#can I please have my emotional support it man paul back. he understood me. he knew what I needed :(

[vcrnons]

it’s just me and the guy from IT who remoted into my pc and keeps clicking around my screen with no idea what he’s doing against the world

[tarlosprompts]

such a lonely heart

Prompt: “But, I have been very unhappy since you left. I just want to know what I can do to bring you home.”TK to Carlos

claimed by vic. 

I’m sorry I didn’t answer to your ask nonnie, but, tumblr isn’t letting me. I really wish I did justice to your prompt! I hope you guys enjoy is as much as I enjoyed writting it! 

(Inspired by this post)

read on ao3

TK and Carlos had an… interesting relationship, to say so. If anyone asked them about the other, they could answer that it was the best two years of their lives, with a nostalgic smile forming on their face.

They had the kind of relationship anyone wanted.

They cared for each other. Everytime one of them wanted to speak about something that was eating them alive, was trapping them inside their minds, the other could listen without second thoughts, whatever their day had turned into. They could guide and advice them if they wanted to, or they could just be there holding them (the physical touch was way important than actual words), reassuring them they would support them until the end of the line. If one of them was injured by the job, after being anxious all day until they see with their own eyes that their loved one was indeed okay, the other could take care of them, 'heal their wounds', treat them like their life was depending on it. Because, according to them, that is love.

They needed each other. Every time they could work on the same call, they could steal a small kiss or a quick hug from one another. After a lond day at work, the other could wait for them with open arms, a warm and intimately atmosphere surrounding the house. They had a home to come back to, a specific person to come back to. Because, according to them, that is love.

It was those moments. The small kisses they were stealing, the little hugs they were sharing. TK putting his forehead on top of Carlos' shoulder every time they interacted. Carlos putting a hand on top of TK's waste, holding him steady. The way their feet tangled once they went to bed. The "behind the back" hugs, touching their forehead on the others back, that made each other's heart run miles of marathons. Touching their foreheads when the other cried, either due to a hard day they had at work, or because they just needed to cry their heart out. Brushing their lips together, smiling teasingly before the actual kiss.

Saying the first 'I love you's' did take them a lot time. TK was scared of loosing him after he came across his own feelings, Carlos was afraid he might was pushing to far. So, they maybe hadn't said the words with ease, they were showing it with every move and touch they shared together.

However, according to most people, all good things must come to an end.

"I don't think I can do this anymore Carlos."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's just, our lack of work, the way I always have to worry if you'll ever come back, you worrying about me if I ever come back… it's too much for me right now!"

Carlos' gaze was blank and TK cursed the time and place Carlos had learned to hold back his face and body expressions because he really needed to know what the other man was thinking, "So what are you suggesting?"

"I think we should call it quits."

And then, just like that, TK was out of Carlos' life and Carlos was out of his.

The first two months had not been easy. TK was feeling many emotions at the same time, overwhelmed, but, he knew he could move on from this. He did in once the past, he could do it again. Although, Carlos was not Alex. Carlos was a unique kind of person. He was under TK's skin, a part from his heart, his own soul, was, and always will be with him. TK knew, he understood, that, which made the whole 'getting over Carlos' operation much more harder than he wanted to. Sometimes he even wondered why he ended thing, other times he caught himself ready to either text the man back or even call him, just to make sure if he was okay. He still cared about him, still kept wondering if Carlos had made it hope safely. I he was okay after a difficult call. Because that is love, and he knew it.

Months passed by, it became easier and easier for TK. He even went on calls without anxiety eating him alive, praying to whoever was listening to, not land on Carlos while he was there. Now the two men we very profesional with each other everytime they met, not letting a single feeling get in their way of doing their job right. That, for TK, was a big win.

TK knew what he was doing. He knew how to lock his feelings away, how to look away, where to yell, scream, punch. He was used to it, by now. He knew how to control or where to direct his emotions. However, what he heard next, still, caught him on guard.

"I though you and Carlos had broken up?!"

"He have, Mateo.", his tone was steady. He did not want to show his confusion on why did probie brought up one of the few things that used to make him still want to wake up to see the light of the sun the next morning, or how hard his heart was pounding now. He and Mateo were tasked to go and grab some supplies from the store that Paul needed to finish tonight's dinner. "Why are you asking?"

"Oh, nothing serious, I just happen to meet Carlos the other day and he was wearing on of our old AFD hoodies. You know, the black one with the hood? The first one we got when we were first recruited by your dad."

And that's when TK lost it, nearly dropping the things he was currently holding inside his hands.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yes Mateo everything's fine. Let's pay end get out of here."

The ride back to the station was quiet. TK kept his gaze on the road, not flinching once, while Mateo kept glaring at him occasionally. TK knew Mateo wanted to ask, he wanted to know, but, TK was beyond glad he did not bring the topic back into the light because, at this moment, he did not know how he would've react in the mention of Carlos. Even thinking his name gave him the chills.

000

It was past midnight. TK's mind was running marathons. He could not sleep. All he could think about was the conversation he had earlier with Mateo. All old feelings coming back with such a rush. As if they never left. Correction, they actually never left.

He was now sitting on his bed, his legs crossed, staring at his phone for the past fifteen minutes, debating if he should or should not. "fuck it", with a small sign he pressed Carlos' name and waited for the other man to pick up. The second he was about to give up-

"Hello?"

TK kept staring blankly sometimes at the wall across him sometimes at his own phone. He had not heard his voice, talking like this, without any trace of professionalism, for so long. He missed it.

"TK?"

TK cleaned his throat before speaking, "oh yeah, Carlos, hi. I'm sorry for calling you this late!", his voice yay more pitched and high than he wanted it to be, "it's late, again I'm sorry, I'll just hang up-"

"It's alright, I was not sleeping anyways."

Silence.

"TK? Are you still there?"

"Oh, yeah, yes! I know it might sound odd but, can we meet at the park in a bit?" he sounded so pathetic he wanted to punch himself in the face.

"Um, yeah sure?! See you in a bit."

After hanging up, TK let a sigh, feeling like the biggest weight had left his own body. Before he got up and started putting clothes on him, he stayed a few seconds laying on his bed, watching his dark sealing like a piece of art, his breathing steady.

000

When he asked Carlos to meet him in the park, he did not know the reason why. He did not believe the man could agree meeting him in the middle of the night, after being apart from each other, this long. He just wanted to see him. He just missed him.

"So…", Carlos was now staring at him. The two men were sitting on a wooden bench, silently watching the black sky, that was somethings changing colours due to the small light the stars were giving. It was a peaceful night. Not many cars where on the road. A small lamp was shining, making the darkness look a little less scary. Just a little. The world was sleeping and yet, TK was there, in the middle of the night, right next to the love of his life. If he could still call him that.

"I think it's time for me to go-"

"I miss you Carlos", he could not hold it back now, "I miss you so damn much. I thought by pushing you away, I could protect you from being hurt if anything happened to me. I though that if I pushed you away, I could protect myself from hurting. I thought I could move forward but, I have been very unhappy since you left. I just want to know what I can do to bring you back home. I need you Carlos! I've been dealing with all these emotions, trying desperately to hold them back, to avoid them. You mean so much to me Carlos. You're under my skin, the fuck can I do?"

Both men were crying. Carlos kept watching him, not saying a word, just, being silent. TK could not deal with it, "talk to me, please! Say something, yell at me!"

“We can’t keep doing this. It’s one way or the other. I love you to damn much but, if we’re going to do this thing, if we're going to try this again, it’s either all in or all out. I’m not going to just keep dangling for you.”

“It’s not that easy, I know...I love you too, and I want to be together. I want you more than anyone I’ve ever been with before.”. Not waiting for an answer and, without hesitation TK grabbed Carlos, bringing him for a watery kiss, not wanting to waste any more time. Carlos places his hands on his waste, bringing him close, deepening the kiss. Both tried to be as close as possible, tried to make up the time that was already missed.

"Just so you know, I know you've been wearing my AFD hoodie the months we were together." TK attempt to light things a little did not went the way he though, but, he was not complaining.

"In my defence, it was the only thing I had left from you. I did not know that to expect. It was my shield of armor. As you said, you're under my skin man, the fuck can I do?"

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

↬ i’ll cover your deep heart and even your pain.

date: june 2020 / august 2020.

location: ash’s apartment studio / wellness retreat / ash’s apartment studio again.

word count: 1,866 words.

summary: ash writes a song for youngjoo’s birthday and decides to put it on his album.

triggers: n/a.

notes: creative claims verification. mentions of youngjoo ofc. i kinda... don’t... hate this 🥴

early june 2020.

he starts at home, where he usually does: in the comforting walls of his studio. it’s dark outside, but it’s the same level of low light it always is in his studio. the only sign of the late hour is the state of artistic drive his brain is in. a natural night owl, writing comes easiest at a late hour, a small blessing among few he has that has helped him survive life as an idol. 

youngjoo’s birthday is approaching and he needs something to give her. there’s no guide to shopping for your friend-question-mark-slash-hook-up-question-mark-slash-ex girlfriend-question-mark-slash-muse-question-mark. believe him, he’d searched both google and naver to try to find an idea.

the answer should be obvious. self-expression for ash comes far more easily through song than anything else. he’ll shower a lover in gifts if they ask him to, but she’s not his lover and they’re both too secure in their careers for an exchange of gifts, no matter how extravagant and expensive they may be, to hold all that much value based on sheer luxury alone. everything else, everything that would lend itself to sentimentality, feels like either too much or too little. there’s a line ash has to toe to keep from implying they’re more than they are without offending her by demoting her role in his life to that of a mere acquaintance.

a song can be shaped entirely by ash himself. he’ll be the auteur of its tone and content and everything it conveys. the problem ash has realized is that that turns back on him, forcing him to question what it is he wants to convey to her.

he’s written her a song once already. kind of. not really. he’d written songs to her and about her, but never directly for her. woo ah had taught him well enough that even showing him any of those songs is a bad idea, and yet here he is.

it’s obvious he needs to keep it simple. anything too romantic and it’ll come off as a confession. he doesn’t have a confession he’s looking to make, to start with, and even if he did, confessing on her birthday would be terribly self-centered of him. no one with half a brain and respect for others would believe that’s the right move to make.

what does he want to tell her? there’s a lot, but it’s easy to shift through and eliminate everything that wouldn’t be appropriate to make this song about. pulling to the forefront the specifics of what he can and should tell her is harder.

he abandons that and instead pulls out his one of his favorite guitars, his black gibson les paul, and sets to playing around with chord progressions and suitable keys. there’s a melody that bounces around in his head and he sends it soaring into the air through the strings, not satisfied until he finds a way to shape it into the kind of rolling comfort youngjoo provides him.

youngjoo’s a composer, a master with notes even if ash knows she doubts her lyrical ability at times. if words fail, he can hope she’ll connect with him in the heart of the song.

if he’s lyrics, so forward and obvious and often messy in execution under the excuse of heavy emotion, then youngjoo is the melody and harmonies that lay underneath, steady, strong, and deep.

mid-june 2020.

another night, he returns to the composition he’d written and he puts the instrumental on repeat as he pulls out a pen and a notebook and writes youngjoo a letter. if that’s what he wants to do through the song so badly, what better way to start than to do it for real? it’s not something she’ll ever read, but he'll have it.

------------------------------------------------------

dear joo,

letters are romantic like no other form of writing that exists other than, perhaps, song itself. at the risk of sounding like one of those old men who complain that all the kids do these days is text, it wouldn’t be so bad to bring letter-writing back. it’s comforting to read a letter, isn’t it? there’s something so permanent yet fragile about written words on paper. it’s comforting and delicate all at once. that’s how you make me feel sometimes. you’ve seen parts of me i worry about you having seen. on late nights like this without anyone else around, i get terrified that the sides of me that aren’t perfect are going to be the ones that cost me you from my life.

i know what you’d say if you read this. ‘don’t be silly. you’re perfect the way you are, ash.’ you’re always so much better and so much more loving than i give you credit for, but it’s not your fault i don’t give you enough credit. i know the woman you are. i’ve been your friend a while now. once upon a time, you even granted me the privilege of being your lover. i know you. knowing you so well is why i can’t get you off of my mind.

i’ve thought so hard about what i think you want to hear from me. i think about that a lot, actually, even when your birthday isn’t approaching. what do you want me to say? what do you want me to do? what do you want me to be? but none of that is what you’d want me to do, i know, so i’m now beginning to think it would be better if i didn’t think too hard about that. i’ll think about what i want to tell you.

song is a gift. i don’t believe in a god or a greater design, but music is the closest thing the human race has created to true divinity. in music, we can express everything we can’t say without a melody or a rhythm or a harmony to support us.

i’ve been thinking a lot about you lately, about us, and about this world we live in. there are days i feel so empty that i ache with the coldness of it. do you have those days, too? you must. i don’t know if you know i realize this because i’m in my own head so often, but i know my life isn’t the only hard one out there. i’m lucky in so many ways i take for granted. i know your relationship with your parents isn’t what you deserve it to be, and i know your heart is so big that you’ll do anything to see the good in anyone who crosses your path, even if it hurts you in the end. it may have seemed like i blamed you for it when we were together, but i understand you didn’t hide your feelings from me on purpose. i’ve never fully understood that about you. we’re so different in that way. but, now, it worries me more than anything. are there other feelings you don’t show me? fear, sadness, hurt?

i hope you know that you can share all of those emotions with me. i won’t judge you for them and they won’t be a burden to me. i meant it when i said i wanted to be a light for you. let me shine for you when your world is dark and let me be your blanket when you feel cold both inside and out.

i’m a greedy man and i want so much i shouldn’t, but please know that you allowing me to be that would make me happy. if i could return a fraction of the comfort and peace you’ve brought me, being able to give you that for your birthday and beyond would be the greatest gift i could ever give you.

yours, ash

------------------------------------------------------

the letter turns easily into lyrics after that. the letter is compressed into something much shorter, but it’s brief and to the point, avoiding the detours and scenic walks his stream of conscious letter had taken him on. it isn’t his most winding, poetic feat of storytelling, but he has no intention of it being. this isn’t a song meant to touch any listener who hears it. this is a song meant to touch one listener.

recording it comes similarly easily, and he insists on recording the song in one take. half an hour passes and he stops. there are times he’ll spend hours upon hours recording one song in the studio, but this song doesn’t need that. to fret over every intricacy of delivery and vocal technique would be to strip the song of its rawness, to present it as overly polished and perfected, and he already tries so hard to be some idealized version for himself in front of youngjoo already.

this is honesty.

august 2020.

the draft he sends youngjoo before he performs the song for her isn’t what the finished product of the song ends up being. it’s rough and short in comparison to what he ends up turning in to bc entertainment, but he’d had no intention of turning it into the company in the first place when he’d started. it’d been meant to be only for her, but as his album falls more and more into place, he realizes, in a lot of ways, it’s become a reflection of the past year of his life. it’s only natural that an album he’s played such a role in writing ends up as such, and songs inspired by youngjoo are all over the track list. when he looks back on it, she’s been a big part of his life for the last several months. some of his saddest moments had been with her, and that’s more than clear from the songs he’s written about her, but his happiest had been, too. his birthday and her birthday both stand out as times his self-hatred and internal resentment had been pushed away for long enough for him to genuinely smile in a way he remembers.

youngjoo won’t be the cure for his problems, much like he can’t be the cure for hers, but it’s times like their night together at the retreat that make ash want to try harder to solve his problems himself. this song, this piece titled ‘joo’ that he’ll undoubtedly need to rename, listening to it reminds him of the better person he can be if he lets himself. in a turn of fate, the song he’d meant to be a comfort to youngjoo also comforts him in the knowledge he’s capable of more than destruction. 

the song deserves a place on his album and he’s prepared to fight for it. so much of the album is dark, because that’s what he’s felt so much lately, but this one isn’t. the orchestral outro is added completely of his own accord, a further representation of how youngjoo makes him feel in their best moments together: light, dreamy, and nostalgic for days they’re supposed to have left behind them.

when he sends it into bc, it’s the only track in that email, and he includes a note, bolded and underlined so they can’t pretend they didn’t see it: this has to be the last track. it’s the final piece of the story.

[ohtheseboysilove]

Ghost from the past VII [Roger Taylor x F!Reader]

Words : 3, 300 K +

Warnings : language, angsty angst 

Summary :  Reader and Roger are in love and happy. Until Ally, first love and ex-girlfriend of Roger come back after years of silence, bringing chaos in their perfect life.

Note : hahaha beginning of the end...or not ? Still not sure, together or not together ? Don’t know yet but the finish line of this story is really close ! I still adore reading your fantastic messages and comments, so please don’t stop, you’re the best lovies xx (please don’t hate me for this chapter haha ily guys)

🌼Requests are open 🌼  ☀ Masterlist ☀

@/ none of these gifs are mine xx

The two following weeks were tense. And sad. Seth still refusing to see his father and Roger was completely devastated. Both of you didn’t understand why suddenly the little boy was so angry about the situation, he did complain in the past but never at the point of ignoring his dad. It was five years old, after all, you couldn’t always understand how their little brains works. The drummer was an empty shell, trying his best to gain back the attention of his son but, sadly, he was as stubborn as his father.

“Baby, I made breakfast. You want some?” You asked sweetly as he entered the kitchen, an empty cup of tea in his hand.

“I’m alright, thank you darling” He sounded off all the time, like he wasn’t really here. You knew his mind was thinking about a solution to see Seth, Ally was refusing him any visit, claiming that the little boy didn’t want to see him. It was true, Brian paid them a visit to be sure she wasn’t making things worse but Seth was still angry toward his father. He was only five years old but he already understood that Roger was the reason of his mum’ sadness. “Oh and I cancel our trip to Vegas...I’m not in the mood to partying, I hope your understand my love” The blond gave you an apologetic smile, kissing lightly your hairs.

Before you could replied he was already gone. Probably to Ally’s place, desperate to talk to is little boy. You felt exhausted, the situation was awful and, a part of it was your fault, not directly but still. Your presence was complicating things for Roger and Ally, the thought of leaving was more and more present in your mind, heavier at every tears on the drummer’s face.

It wasn’t only Seth, even if he was a big part of this painful idea but it several little things that made you think it was maybe for the best. The fact that Ally would never stop trying to have Roger back ; Also that Freddie, bandmate and best friend of the blond was definitely on her side ; Roger’s pain to miss the daily life of his son ; His past with Ally, always in the back of your mind ; The number of people who thought their were together whenever there are with Seth ; The gossip magazines which were dragging you in the mud, calling you awful name for breaking a family ;

There were so many warnings, you avoided them all but after six months of this situation, you were tired. Maybe it was really time for you to go after all. You picked the phone and called the man who, you know, would be totally honest with you about this thought of leaving.

“Hey Fred, it’s (Y/N)...do you think we could talk face to face someday ?”

***********************************************************************************

Freddie organised a dinner at his place two days later and invited everyone, giving a chance to Roger to see his son and maybe fix the problem. You didn’t say anything to the drummer for now, you weren’t sure of what you will do, he didn’t notice your sadness, drowning in his own. You supported him the best you could and he told you how grateful he was for that but you couldn’t stand him so sorrowful, it wasn’t a healthy situation. Seth barely spoke two words to his dad, adding weight in your decision to take a break with the drummer, maybe not a total break up but some time to think about what was the best for the future.

At the end of the dinner as everyone was saying goodbye, Freddie asked to talk to you.

"I don’t think it’s a good idea Fred" Roger immediately stepped in front of you, in a protective gesture. "You said enough last time” You stayed quiet, half hide by the drummer’s frame, relived that he took your defence but also guilty to talk about leaving him behind his back.

Freddie sighed awkwardly and scratched his neck.

"Listen, I just want to apologise to your lady. Can I spoke to her or you’re gonna bit me if I come too close ?" 

Roger raised an eyebrow, the singer wasn’t the type to apologise so he was rather surprised. The blond looked at you interrogatively and you squeezed his arm, a reassuring smile on your face. 

"I will wait for you in the living-room” He pressed a kiss on your forehead and threw a last warning glare to Fred before waving a last goodbye to the others who were leaving.

Freddie and you walked in his giant but beautiful garden and he sat on one of the bench, gesturing you to do the same, Paul stood behind him, his hand on his shoulder. The singer turned and asked him to leave which he did, reluctantly. 

"First of all, (Y/N), I’m really sorry for my behaviour since Ally came back, I had been completely awful to you and I dearly regretted it" You nodded slowly, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I think I own you an explanation for my mean words to you with Ally around"

“I think I already know the answer Fred. You want them back together” You murmured with sadness, it was never pleasant to feel not wanted. “I got it, she was...is your best friend and she still in love with Roger, I know that”

"It’s not against you, I swear” Freddie put his hand on top of yours. “I can’t...I can’t picture Roger with someone else than Ally. I did it when she left and you arrived but...but now she is back with Seth, I just think it’s gonna happen anyway”

"I think you’re right. I feel like I don’t belong in this group since she is back, or with Roger. I feel like I’m just in their way, ya know ?" He shifted uncomfortably in his seat but nodded sadly. “I think I should take a break with Roger. Maybe giving him the opportunity to see if he could...go back with Ally and Seth. I owned him that after all he did for me, I just want him to be happy. What do you think Fred ?” You asked with a weak voice, you were terrified of his answer.

Freddie moved his hand away and rubbed his eyes before lighting a cigarette.

"I think it’s the right thing to do”

He could have punched you right in the stomach it wouldn’t have hurt as much as his words just did.

"Ye–yeah ?" You blinked furiously as you felt your eyes watering.

"You asked me to be totally honest, I’m being honest” He took a quick puff, shaking his head. "I’m putting my friendship with Ally completely aside alright ? I speak as Roger’s friend and yours, even if I didn’t act like a friend these past months. But for your sake and them...a break could help all of you to see in this mess”

Your bit your trembling lower lips to prevent any tears to spill as your stomach was twisted painfully. 

"I love him so much Freddie" You replied with a shaky voice. "But I feel like I’m not enough anymore" He stayed silent, his eyes filled with guilt, he was causing you pain and it hurt him too.

"I know you do, you wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for him. Talk to me (Y/N), it’s not my decision, it’s your, I can only you give you my feeling about it” You chocked a pathetic sob as he replied to you, sadness covering his face.

"I...I’m just exhausted to feel like I have to fight for him, for our future, all the time" You replied, your voice cracking under the mix of emotion rolling through your system. “It’s not his fault, I know he love me but there so many things which went wrong since Ally came back, I don’t know if I can handle all of this during years, Fred”

"Darling, you situation is...fucking shitty. I can’t imagine how hard it had been for you, I should had talk to you rather than be a little bitch” A noise between a sob and a laugh fell from your lips as you shook your head, sharing a glance with Freddie, both of you smiling sadly. “Roger love you, I know he does, it’s obvious. This is so unfair, I...I love you okay ? I’m not trying to be mean but he could...eventually live without you, he couldn’t do that with Seth, it’s his son, he is his priority. And I do think that...even if he said he don’t love Ally anymore, they could go back together for Seth and be a happy family”

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, he wasn’t insensitive to your state but he was sure to do the right thing.

You couldn’t contain your watering eyes anymore, streams of salty tears soaking your burning cheeks. After Ally, now there was Freddie who was also convinced that Roger will go back to her eventually. You felt completely helpless, seeing your future with the man who, you were sure, was the love of your life slipping through your fingers. 

"That what I thought too” You whispered weakly, your gaze staring intensely at your engagement ring like it would disappear at any moment. 

"Maybe we’re wrong but for both of you, giving him the chance to see how life would be with Ally and Seth could be a good thing. And I know you can’t build a life with all the doubts you have, it’s not fair for you either”

“You’re right. I will...I will speak to Roger. Explain the situation and then...we will see” You slowly stood up and wiped away your tears and drooling nose. “Thank you for your honesty. I knew John and Brian would just say to stay with him no matter what”

“If he decide to stay with you (Y/N), I will be happy for the both of you, you know ? I regretted my horrible comportment toward you, I don’t know why I acted like this. I think I wanted to scare you away for Ally but it was really stupid, I’m sorry again darling” He opened his arms timidly and you gave him a thigh hug, every inches of your body felt like a tone of brick at the sadness of what became your life.

“It’s alright Fred, we all do mistakes. I’m not rancorous” You smiled through your tears and sighed deeply, just the though of saying Roger in few minutes made you sick.

“And (Y/N)” You turned around and Freddie had a serious face, unusual from him. “You don’t have to be ashamed about how you feel about the situation, most of people would have ran away with all the shit which happened to you. You’re not weak to ask for a break, you’re just human. I know I couldn’t handle a situation like yours, I think you very brave”

A wave of warmth spread around your chest at his words and you smiled softly before leaving without another word. You would tell Roger that you and Freddie had teary apologies, reason for your rather destroyed and broken appearance. It wasn’t even a lie but only half of the truth.

*****************************************************************************************

After you made the decision to take a break with Roger, you decided to tell him at the end of the week. You already had everything plan, you would left during the three months of summer, going in somewhere you always wanted to visit. This absence would give all the time for Roger and Ally to reconnect...or not. And you also deeply needed this time alone. These past months had been so hard and intense for you, it was vital to take some rest away from this chaos that became your life. The fears, the cries, the pain...you wanted to forget all of this and saw how you would experience this break from London and the craziness.

You spent this week literally glued to your fiancé, well the most you can. Every kisses, every caresses, every intimate touches were feeling like they were the last one and maybe it would be.

It was friday night and you were leaving tomorrow, you needed to tell him. Tonight.

“Someone is being very greedy these past days” Roger murmured as you forced him to take his tee-shirt off as soon as he put a step inside your flat, kissing every inch you could reach of him.

“Roger, I need you” He fell on the sofa and grabbed your hips, putting you on his lap as he gently sucked onto your neck a love bite. “Please, baby, want you now” You whined as you fought with his belt, your fingers shaking as you tried to put aside what you were supposed to tell him.

“Alright, needy girl, why are you in a such hurry ? I’m not going anywhere” The drummer captured your lips for a deep and hot kiss, hands flying to your bottom, squeezing it playfully. “Are you going somewhere or what ?” He joked as your hands explored his bare torso, trying to remember how beautiful he looked.

You stopped every movements at his words, looking at him like a deer caught in the headlight.

“What ?” He asked when you didn’t replied to his kiss. “What’s wrong ?” You moved away from his thighs and sat next to him, feeling already overwhelmed with the conversation that would follow.

“Roger, I need to tell you something” The blond frowned at your serious tone and put a hand on your knee, rubbing it gently. “I...I thought about it a lot and I– I think we...we should take a break” You bit harshly your lower lip to calm down your nerves as the drummer looked at you like you were crazy.

“W–what ? What are you talking about ? It’s...it is because I pushed back the wedding ? We can get married tomorrow if you want, I–“ The sadness and panic on his face crushed your heart but you were sure it was the good thing to do.

“It’s not because of our wedding Roger, I just think...I feel like I’m in the way between you and Ally and it’s exhausting. Always wondering if you’re really done with her or not” You murmured before sniffled silently, you couldn’t look at him.

“Baby, I already told you a million time that I love you, fucking hell ! I don’t give a shit about Ally, we’re done !” He grabbed your hands, pressing them with fear. “You can’t just decided to both of us to take a break (Y/N), I won’t let you go, do you hear me ?” His voice was trembling but his eyes were filled with determination.

“Roger listen, I’m not breaking up with you okay ? I...I need time to think about all of it…I need to think if I can bear with a life like the past six months” His big baby blue eyes were shinning with tears as he slowly understood what you meant. “I love you, more than anyone but I can’t marry you if I’m not sure if we have a future or not. Seth don’t speak to you anymore and I feel like it’s my fault, because you’re with me and not with his mum. And maybe if I wasn’t here, you would be with her instead, being a happy family”

You rubbed your eyes, chasing the tears away because if you started crying now you wouldn’t finish this conversation.

“I...I don’t know what you want from me (Y/N), how can I convince you that I will never go back with Ally ?” You glanced at his thumb, as usual it was caressing your beautiful ring. The gesture made your heart sank. “Tell me”

“I’m leaving tomorrow for all summer, I have a flight in the morning” He gasped loudly, the feeling of treason covering his face, guilt was all over yours. “I want you to spend your time with your son and Ally, see if there still something between you two. I don’t want you to marry and then one day you regretted it because you still have feelings for her” You wiped away a tear from Roger’s cheek, it was even harder that you though. “I’m not saying we are over, okay ? I think it’s the best if both of us take some time apart, deciding what we want to do with the situation. I would be sad if you choose to go back with Ally but I won’t be mad, I want to give us a chance to be completely sure”

“I don’t need time away from you (Y/N), I know I want you, please don’t do that” He murmured with a broken voice and couldn’t contain the tears to roll on your face.

“You’re saying that because we’re always together, maybe deep inside you, feelings for Ally are still there and I don’t…I can’t continue to live with this fear, I’m so afraid that in the end, you would go with Ally and Seth and I will be all alone...” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you let your head fell on his chest, soaking his bare chest. “I need a break from all this pain Roger”

“I didn’t know you were feeling like that baby, I’m sorry” He croaked, his own body shaking with silent cries. “Do whatever you need to feel better, okay ? If...if you want me to give another try with Ally to be sure of my feelings, I will do it for you”

“Promise you will to do it for real ? Not just pretend. Use this time with Ally and Seth, as a family and if something with Ally happen, at least I would have my answer” You murmured with a weak voice as he nodded slowly, wiping his red nose. “I want you to forget about me during these three months and only focused on what make you the happier. No phone calls, just pretend I don’t exist”

He closed his eyes momently like if your words were painfully hitting him.

“If it what’s you want (Y/N)” He picked up his clothes and slowly stood up, sliding his tee-shirt over his head. “I’m sorry for these past months, how hard it had been for you but I hope our love would be enough to make you come back home” He cupped your wet and burning cheeks, pressing a painfully sad kiss on your lips, tasting salty tears and goodbye. “I love you”

“I love you too Roger” You replied in a whisper, he grabbed his keys and jacket before disappearing behind the door, the silent of the flat echoing through your ears.

You wiped your face with your top and took a deep sigh, even if you felt crushing with sadness and guilt to have caused pain to the drummer, your heart felt a bit lighter. Relieve flooding through your veins, you did it, it was hard and maybe you will regret it if Roger stayed with Ally but at least all your doubts will be gone. Whatever he or you chose to do, it would be for the best.

You made your way to your room and started packing clothes in the big backpack you bought for the occasion. You had decide to not stay in the same place but rather travelled between New Zealand and New Caledonia, two countries you wanted to deeply visit since forever, it was your chance. You will use your saving money and stayed in cheap hotels, improvising when it would be needed. The most important was that you will clear your mind and really think about what you wanted for your future.

With or Without Roger.

**********************************************************************************

tag list : @16wiishes @borhapqueen92​ @thewinchesterchronicles @khaleesi2017 @hawaiipeople-blog​ @witchbloodsworld @broken-pieces @spideyyypeter @vanitysfairr @glowingez @queenmaracasandlove @yourealegendroger @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing @launopeach​ @fearless2tobeme @awkwardangelshezza​ @queen-turtle-boiii @blushingwueen @fandomnerdxox @hahahaitsmagic @a-crowd-of-newsies@capsparrowtara

[artificialqueens]

The Dark Side of Beauty {Witney} Fic Challenge -C*NT

A/N: Hi! i’m trying to show more versatility so I decided to write something for the fic challenge! The words I chose were: Tragic, Glass, Silver and I quadruple checked to make sure I used each and every one of them! This is an angsty Witney one shot, I’m really sorry about it but this goes over some pretty heavy topics. I wanted to show that what you see isn’t always the truth when it comes to Courtney Act. Also thank you so much for all of the feedback on AHAHAM and The Lost Princess, hopefully I will be updating those soon ♥️

Huge TW: Mentions and graphic descriptions of self harm, eating disorders, depression, and obbsessive behavior. Please read at your own risk, it can be very very triggering if you are suffering from an eating disorder or are currently self harming.

Courtney had always been a fairly confident person all throughout her life. Growing up in Oz had given her an overly positive attitude, where the people said what they meant and meant what they say. They didn’t lay sugar coated back handed compliments on you one by one until you shattered. Even if they did, they would never direct any hate or criticism towards Courtney. The thin blonde had always been placed on an untouchable pretty pedestal. In Oz she felt invincible, yes she had made mistakes many times over throughout her Australian Idol experience and in the drag community down under, but her mistakes had never been looked at with a magnifying glass.

So you can only imagine how much of a culture shock it was when she came to America, where her fame really took off.

It had all begun with Ru Paul’s Drag Race.

In one way or another, she was always slept on throughout the competition despite winning two challenges.

Courtney had come up with a variety of expensive and unique looks for each of her runway outfits, but was famously accused of ‘resting on pretty’ While her sisters got away with infamously not cinching their waists and wearing the same silhouette 15 times, she was ridiculed and told by bitter drag race fans that she had skated through to the top 3 in a bra and underwear.

She remembered one moment on the show in particular where she had been excited to wear her runway outfit with the large purple blanket. It was almost like a two in one look. She had blindfolded herself with a sleeping mask as she walked slowly down the catwalk. A pillow was placed behind her head, and her body was surrounded by the royal purple comforter. When she hit the center of the runway, she ripped off the blanket to reveal a matching purple bra and underwear set. She had spent the majority of her time in the work room styling her wig so that it reached to the high heavens.

Her look was a concept, showing her ability to the judges that she could think outside of the box.

Alas, that’s when the infamous “resting on pretty” comment came out of Ru’s lips, and instead of taking it to heart she incorporated it into her merch.

Of course she hated the saying with every fiber of her being - what was so wrong with being pretty? But she decided she’d rather make money off of it then freak out about it. She had decided she would just work twice as hard as most Ru girls to prove to people she was more than a pretty face, or a gender bent drag queen from Oz.

She focused her attention back on the video of Bianca that a fan had sent her. They had captioned it “BDR jokes about Diet’s.”

There was a point in time when a few months after drag race had ended, Bianca had put on around 10 pounds of weight. Courtney, trying to be a supportive friend, had suggested she try out the vegan diet. She had been vegan for a long time now, and had successful results ever since. She hardly ever gained weight, and always kept a lean figure which was perfect for being a female impersonator.

“That girl is a vegan! Did you know that? I don’t know about you, but I don’t hate myself that much, I’ll just stick to being a vegetarian!” Bianca roared to the crowd.

There was scattered laughter in the video before it died down. She frowned, unsure of her emotions about the subject.

She listened to Bianca go on and on about how Courtney’s version of dessert was a square of dark chocolate after a show, how she’d rarely have mixed drinks, and how everything she ate just had to be vegan, gluten free and organic.

Courtney had no idea that she seened so intense with her diet, so to show versatility she decided she would eat more carbs. She would continue to watch her weight carefully of course, but made a mental note to be sure to eat more sweets in front of people

Courtney clicked away from the video and sighed. She knew Bianca was just trying to poke a little fun, but she really didn’t even know the reality of what she was saying.

Her downward spiral and obsession with food started with that video. Of course, Bianca wouldn’t think twice about her jokes because Courtney was supposed to take it lightly and roll her eyes like she always did. She was an insult comic, Bianca would say, and that it really didn’t mean anything. Courtney would nod and reassure that she understood because that’s how she was raised. She was always a good sport.

It was all great, until one day when it wasn’t.

——–

4 months later

Courtney was pulling her long sheer purple dress over head before one of her shows, when she noticed that there was a clean tear in it, right under her breast plate.

“Gained some weight huh?” Willam eyed the tanned blonde as she tugged at the unforgiving fabric. “You’re still not fat at least.”

But she was. Courtney had never stretched, ripped, or tore a garment before in her life. The fact that one of her very favorite expensive dresses was now ripped was devastating to her.

She didn’t think she had gained too much weight. She had allowed herself 10 pounds, which was what she had put on after lightening up on her diet. But now she was seeing things she couldn’t unsee.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, she noticed her thighs touched now. Before she had a flawless thigh gap, the envy of many other queens and women all around the world. Her stomach was slightly sticking out, likely bloated from the sugary cocktail she had consumed at the bar with Willam.

Lastly, her arms had more meat on them slightly wider than they used to be. The sleeves of her dress fit snugly. She probably couldn’t even move the microphone in front of her chest without destroying the garment further.

“Willam, I can’t get this to look good - what am I going to do?” Courtney panicked, shuffling through her suitcase.

Willam shrugged, noting how frantic Courtney had become but taking it with a grain of salt. Court was the kind of person to cry over her favorite chips being discontinued, it really wasn’t anything new.

“I don’t know, pull an Adore and wear a tank top and shorts?” Willam suggested.

“Please, at least TRY to be helpful.” Courtney groaned exasperated. She eventually found her long geometric cut out dress that hugged her snugly, but still fit despite the weight gain. She said a silent prayer in her head and thanked the universe for stretchy fabric.

“I guess this will just have to do.” Courtney sighed, taking the purple dress off delicately, trying not to rip it further. Maybe Bianca could fix it for her.

“You look hot no matter what, big or small.” Willam sighed, eyeing his girlfriend jealously. Courtney looked seriously sexy with curves, almost like a real woman when she was dressed in drag. Willam was fixated on her ass as Courtney smoothed the fabric over her stomach self consciously.

You look hot no matter what, big or small.

The words kept ringing in her head. All night, throughout her performance that’s all her mind could fixate on.

She had grown large.

She had gained weight.

She had done the unthinkable.

No, gaining 10 pounds wasn’t a big deal for a lot of people, especially someone who had started out at a healthy weight. But Courtney was obsessed with control, what had she allowed herself to do? Her body had transformed into something she wasn’t used to, and now she had to get it back to what it was before.

She decided she wouldn’t eat or drink for the rest of the night.

————

After she left the club that night, she ran into Bob in the streets of New York. Smiling, she ran up and embraced him in a large hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” Courtney gushed, feeling relieved to be out of the limelight and away from fans. Willam had gone home early to rest up for a show, which was why she had left the venue rather quickly instead of getting drunk with fans like they usually did together.

“You too, gorgeous-”

“Hey, I know you!” A heavy set man ran up to them, huffing and puffing as if he had been chasing after them for blocks.

“You do?” Courtney asked bewildered, smiling politely but not sure where the man was going with this.

“Yeah, you’re that impersonator-from Las Vegas!” The fan slurred

“I am?” Courtney grinned, eyeing Bob holding his iphone out in front of them. “Who do I impersonate?”

Humor me, she thought.

“You-uh, oh god I can’t put my finger on it right now, uh. Oh! Britney Spears!”

Bob was cackling, much like Bianca at the remark. Courtney wasn’t laughing though.

Not even a random fan knew who she was anymore.

“Yes!” Courtney chimed, not missing a beat. Not letting her true emotions of not being recognized show.

“You’re beautiful!” A random woman called as she walked by.

Was she really though?

She nodded to the woman smiling, muttering thank you as she looked back at the drunk fan. She crossed her arms in front of her stomach, trying to hide her bloated belly and disguise her expanded waist line.

“And I don’t care about you because you stay here in New York City, and I can see you for free!” The fan exclaimed to Bob, continuing to stumble over his words.

“Yep. Who cares about me right?” Bob deadpanned, shrugging.

“I should get going Bob.” Courtney muttered. “It was good to see you.”

Bob smiled and embraced her in a side hug before she walked away.

“Good to see ya, Derrick.” Bob called playfully.

After tonight, Courtney vowed to go back to her vigorous strict vegan diet. She would not be mistaken for Derrick, or anyone other then herself ever again.

——————

It wasn’t just one comment that got Courtney to lose 30 pounds after that night, and continue to engage in obsessive behavior. It had been multiple. Over time, everything had piled up inside and the only way Courtney had known how to handle it was to control her eating habits.

So she stopped eating. She would allow herself one meal a day, a handful of almonds and a couple of glasses of water. The weight practically shredded off of her, her collar bones prominent and her jawline sharper than ever before.

To make sure no one got suspicious, she would wear pads almost 24/7. This was her way of controlling her environment. No one had read her in months, and some of her sisters had even said she looked different, glowing even.

“Court, are you okay? You seem so distant.” Willam asked concerned, showing some emotion other than arrogance for once.

“I’m fine.” Courtney nodded, not meeting Willam’s eyes. She was dressed in her long australian flag gown, paired with cherry red lips and sleek blonde curls.

Willam didn’t know that Courtney had restricted herself to only eating once a day. When someone was considered beautiful like Courtney, they didn’t pay attention to what she ate all day. They either accepted that she starved herself to get her body the way that it was, or didn’t care enough to be concerned.

They hadn’t had sex since the weight loss. Courtney knew that if Willam saw her body underneath all of her clothes that he would be mortified. Her ribs were prominent, hip bones jutted out significantly. She had even lost her six pack, due to the lack of muscle that she had left from her not eating.

“Okay. So I’ll see you after your show right?” Willam asked hopefully.

“Yeah, definitley.” Courtney answered unenthusiastically as she sprayed her blonde wig one last time with a layer of hairspray.

Willam was exhausting, always asking questions and had become incredibly needy lately. Courtney had learned to shut him out and just give him blow jobs to keep him satisfied. She knew it wouldn’t stay like this forever. He was beginning to get more and more suspicious of her behavior.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” Willam said defeated, leaving the room swiftly.

God, she didn’t deserve him she thought as she watched him leave the room.

She wanted to have sex with him so badly. She wanted to tell him so badly how much she had been struggling lately. She just wanted him to ask.

If anyone could just ask how she was doing, she would tell them. She would burst at the seams and tell them everything.

But no one ever asked a pretty girl questions like that.

She sighed as she fluffed her hair one last time, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She moved closely to it to double check for any imperfections.

Something felt different about tonight, and Courtney didn’t know what.

———–

Courtney appeared on the stage, smiling as the bright lights fixated on her in front of her microphone. She felt nervous, anxious even, which was unusual for a seasoned performer like herself.

“Hey guys!” Courtney exclaimed. The crowd roared, clapping enthusiastically for her as she curtseyed in front of them.

Play up the positivity.

Force the smile.

She smiled cheekily and looked down towards the crowd, spotting a couple near the front whispering. She felt her heart stop as she wondered if her outfit had ripped or something. She smoothed down her dress self consciously and pushed a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear hoping that she had fixed whatever she had messed up this time.

She decided to take a sip of her white wine before she began her first song. Tonight, she was going to start with her cover of Stayin’ Alive, as a mantra to herself. She had needed to hear that song more and more lately. Maybe the more she sang it, the more she’d actually want to stay alive.

Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man: no time to talk Music loud and women warm, I’ve been kicked around Since I was born And now it’s all right, it’s okay And you may look the other way We can try to understand The New York Times’ effect on man

The song blasted through her vocal chords and out of the speakers, tears streaming down her face as she let the reality of the lyrics sink in.

Whether you’re a brother or whether you’re a mother You’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive Feel the city breakin’ and everybody shakin’ And we’re stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive Ah, ha, ha, ha, stayin’ alive

She breathed deeply, partially letting herself rest and partially trying to pull herself together.

She had to finish the song. She had to show that she wasn’t just pretty. She had raw talent too.

Well now, I get low and I get high And if I can’t get either, I really try Got the wings of heaven on my shoes I’m a dancin’ man and I just can’t lose You know it’s all right, it’s okay I’ll live to see another day We can try to understand The New York Times’ effect on man

She was feeling herself getting more choked up. This was her song, even if it was written and performed many years ago, she was relating to this song so much.

She tries so hard, harder than anyone else in the business to stay relevant.

No one understood the pressure she put on herself to be more then what people said about her.

Shakily, she finished the song; proud that she was able to still do it justice even in the middle of an epiphany. The crowd applauded and cheered, but then she started listening to what the crowd had thought were sweet comments.

“You’re so beautiful!”

“I wanna rest on pretty!”

Courtney’s head was spinning, the smoke from the machines fogging up her vision and giving her a headache.

Why didn’t her fans understand her? Why didn’t they see how hard she worked every single day to become more than just a beautiful drag queen?

Courtney had worked so hard over the last couple of years, from involving herself in an American Apparel Ad campaign, to being in a music video with Little Mix and in countless performances in between. She had shared the stage with big names and not so big names, and had been courteous and professional at all of her shows.

Her head was throbbing, a scream wanting to come out of her as she began to breathe heavily in a panic.

She was too strict on her diet, so she eased up. Then she was too fat, so she became strict again.

Now her she was, back at square one: she was just pretty. Or beautiful. It didn’t matter to anyone if she ate 1 potato chip or 2 bags worth. It didn’t matter to anyone if she wore an expensive gown or a potato sack. It didn’t matter if she performed with Miley Cyrus or her boyfriend Willam.

It didn’t matter.

Her talent didn’t matter.

She didn’t matter.

All that mattered to her fans was her vanity, her image.

She didn’t want to be known for her image anymore. She wanted to be known for her talent and hard work, just like her season 6 sisters were.

Just like Willam.

And Alaska.

Even Miss Fame.

“Damnit, I am more than just a pretty face! I have talent! I have charisma. Why don’t you all see it?” Courtney shrieked, throwing her glass towards the crowd. After an audible gasp, she turned her back away from them and fled the stage.

Courtney ran down the steps backstage and to her dressing room, locking herself in it. She heard a heavy knock on the door shortly after but ignored it. Whoever it was knocked a few more times before they gave up, leaving her to her own devices.

No one cares, everyone just gives up.

It was just her and her dressing room mirror now.

“What is wrong with you Courtney?” Court asked herself, staring into the mirror. Her blue green eyes looked manic, bloodshot even. Her mascara was smeared in neat black lines down her cheeks, she even cried neatly. She licked her palm and flattened it across her face, dragging it down her neck, removing her foundation and contour in one smooth motion.

“I’m not pretty anymore!” Courtney exclaimed, proceeding to do the same on the other side of her face. Her lipstick had been smeared down her chin to her sharp jaw line.

“What will people think? What will people say to this?” Courtney laughed maniacally, snapping a photo and immediately uploading it to instagram.

courtneyact: not pretty!

The notifications began almost instantly but she didn’t care. She stared at herself in the mirror, the edges of Shane’s face and Courtney’s blurred by the ruined makeup.

She kept her wig on and decided to look down at her phone.

adoredelano: you’re right, you’re beautiful courm! no matter what!

“No!” Courtney yelled, slamming her fist into the silver mirror. A loud shatter broke the otherwise silent room, and shortly after Courtney felt her right hand stinging.

You’re nothing more than a pretty face.

“Lies!” Courtney sobbed, grabbing a piece of broken mirror off of the floor. “I am more then my beauty.”

She stared down at the sharp edge of the piece of broken mirror in her hand, placing it against her chest.

“This isn’t beauty.” Courtney murmured, watching herself drag the sharp edge across her pectoral muscle. A ribbon of blood followed the blade and gushed quickly out of her. She repeated it again and again, in different spots. Some on her leg, others on her arm, some even on her stomach.

She felt dizzy, and finally succumbed to her hand injury and cuts collapsing onto the floor of her dressing room.

————–

After Willam had called Courtney 5 times, she rushed over to the club where she had performed at. Running inside, she sprinted towards the backstage to the last door on the right. A large gold star hung on the door with Courtney’s name on it.

Willam knocked on the door loudly.

No response.

“We’ve been trying to get her to come out for 30 minutes now. Here’s a key. She’d probably want to see you more than us anyway.” A backstage attendant said, handing her the small gold key.

That was odd, Willam thought. Usually Courtney was out in 15 minutes tops. Even then, she usually left the dressing room door open for anyone who had any questions.

Willam sighed, pushing the key into the hole and twisting it.

When she opened it, she was not expecting what she saw.

“Courtney? Courtney!” Willam exclaimed, rushing to the broken girls side. She shook her wildly, not even caring that she was getting blood all over her brand new Versace dress.

No response. Courtney looked pale and unlike herself, her makeup was all but a couple of messy streaks all over her face. A single piece of broken mirror was stuck in her right hand, that had smaller shards stuck inside of it.

“Courtney please don’t leave me. I’ll do anything, please I can’t lose you!” Willam sobbed, holding her close to her.

One of the managers of the club came rushing in, distraught written all over her face as she observed the sad scene before her.

“U-um, would you like me to call an ambulance?” She stuttered.

“I needed you to call one 10 minutes ago! Call now!” Willam barked, still watching Courtney. concerned. He checked her pulse and realized she was still breathing, even if it was faintly.

“Thank god she’s still breathing. I would’ve sued you motherfuckers. I’ll pay for all of the damage so don’t worry about that. Just get the fuck out of here and get her some fucking medical attention!” Willam exclaimed frantically. She felt like she was going to be sick. She couldn’t lose her Courtney, not right now. Not so soon after Warner.

The manager rushed out and Willam hummed to herself as she rocked Courtney in her arms.

Being pretty wasn’t always pretty. Sometimes, being pretty was an awful, tragic mess.

[istartedbelievinginitmyself]

Review of Harry Potter and the cursed child (play)

Hello!. So on Sunday 1st January i finally got to see Harry Potter and the cursed child in the Palace Theatre in London. And here is what i think:

It was absolutly incredible!!! One of the best shows i have seen so far (and i saw a lot of shows on west end). It was beautifully artistic and it nearly made me cry several times which means a lot.

The Plot

I know a lot of people don't like the plot, but it worked so great on stage. I loved the plot, it was exciting until the end. It is not perfect of course (there is nothing that's perfect not even the original books) but the plot was very good, i loved the time travelling and it served it's main purpose: character development. Other than the books or fantastic beast cursed child is not about adventure or about the world and the plot so much, but it's about interesting characters and character development, mainly about the development of Harrys and Albus' father son relationship. So the main focus is not on the plot, but on the characters. So i will move on to the characters.

    The characters/actors

I saw the whole main cast (which made me really happy) so here we go:

  Harry James Potter

I saw Jamie Parker as Harry Potter and i can't say enough how amazing he is. His performance was one of the best performances i ever got to see on a stage and this man is so talented it's not normal any more. His portrayal of Harry's pain about his relationship to Albus and about his haunting memories of the past was beautiful. His screams in Harry‘s nightmare scenes were bonechilling and we see how much Harry as a young adult with all this preasure on him is still haunted by his past. At the beginning of the play Jamie plays Harry very sorrowless and happy, we see what a loving father he is and Jamie Parker has great charisma on stage. With the developement of the plot however, Harry gets more and more stressed, there is a lot of preasure on him and Jamie‘s portrayal gets darker and he shows us the troubled but beautifully complex and very emotional human being. We see how much he loves his son and is trying to be a good father, but he has no idea how to show Albus his love. Harry as an interesting character is beautifully written and Jamie Parker brought Harry from the books to life on stage. I think he is perfectly casted and one of the most talented actors on the west end.

    Albus Severus Potter

I saw Sam Clemmett as Albus Potter and he was amazing. His portrayal of Albus shows how angry Albus was and we understand why he is so angry. Everyone expects him to be like what they think Harry was: a perfect human being (which Harry of course wasn't ). It must be very very hard to see that all your siblings go to Griffindor and are popular and you are sorted into Slytherin. He makes Harry‘s fame responsible for his suffering (and bullying in school) and that's why he behaves the way to Harry as he does. He doesn't want to see the famous Harry Potter he wants to see his father which is very hard for both of them. The most important scene in the whole play is the blanket scene in part one act one. The scene was tragically beautifully played by both Sam and Jamie and you could see that they both understood their characters perfectly.

Sam had great on stage chemistry with Jamie and Poppy (Ginny ) and with Anthony (Scorpius) of course. These two boys were brilliant together. Sam is an amazing and very young actor and we will definetly see more of him in te futute.

      Ginny Potter

I saw Poppy Miller as Ginny and she was awesome (you will hear this a lot). In the movies i never really liked Ginny and i don't think Bonny Wright did much for her character, it was so refreshing to see the strong and fierce Ginny we love so much from the books. Poppy portrays Ginny as a strong woman, a loving mother and as a very supportive wife (she has one moment when she doubts Harry, but this flaw and her apology just made her character more interesting and beautiful). She and Jamie had amazing chemistry and the kiss was so adorable. My favourite Ginny line, which is perfectly presented by Poppy, is when she answeres Draco with "my son is missing too!" Poppy literally screams this line and it's such a strong moment (Draco‘s /Alex' reaction is priceless).

     Hermione Jean Granger

I saw Noma Dumenzweni as Hermione and you can tell me whatever you want but this woman was born to play Hermione Granger. She is one of those very rare actors/actresses who have such an authority when they enter the stage. Her Hermione was so strong and fierce as i remembered her from the books and she played such an amazing Minister of Magic (i really can't imagine Emma Watson playing Hermione as Minister of Magic, it really wouldn't fit for me as i always found Emma to be not strong and bossy enough to play Hermione). But Noma also has some beautiful soft scenes in the play e.g. in her kissing scene with Ron (they are a perfect couple) and this one scene after they changed back time and she sees Rose and then fully realized that her daughter didn't excist in the other universe and they share a very heartbreaking hug. I don't care about her skin colour or that some idiots think that she is too ugly to play Hermione, she was incredible and perfect in my eyes.

     Ron(ald) Weasley

I saw Paul Thorne as Ron Weasley and it was such a delight watching him. Ron has a lot of funny moments in the play , which paul played masterly, he is trying to be the light in those dark moments, but at the same time he is still the good friend we saw in the books. He stands up for his wife and his friend and Paul made me love Ron even more. He had amazing chemistry with Noma and their kissing scene was so cute and heartwarming.

     Rose Granger Weasley

I saw Cherrelle Skeete as Rose. When reading the script book first i didn't like Rose that much, but Cherrele managed to let me see the Hermione part more in her and i actually really liked Rose in the play. She gives a very energetic performance and had some good moments with Scorpius. I think i saw not enough of her to properly judge her, but i think she is a very talented young actress.

     Draco Malfoy

 I saw Alex Price as Draco and he was amazing. In the first part he portrays Draco as we all know him from the books (at the beginning he is a little brat), but the more we get into the play we see the real Draco, he loves his son more than anything like Harry does (and yes they have a lot of father son issues too) and he gets more and more in touch with Harry, Ginny and Ron and Hermione as he has the same problem as Harry, his son is missing. To see Draco working with the golden trio makes a really great dynamic at the end of the play. I also love that through Alex incredible acting we see how lonely Draco always has felt and that he indeed is not a bad human being but a very interesting and developed character.

    Scorpius Malfoy

I saw Anthony Boyle as Scorpius Malfoy and i tell you if Jamie Parker wouldn't have been such an incredible actor this young man would have totally stolen the show. It's very hard to describe Anthony's acting and his high voice but this young actor is something special. I don't think anyone came out of the theatre not totally in love with Scorpius Malfoy. Anthony has perfect comedic timing and he was so talented in the more silent scenes (i swear i saw a tear in his eyes). Whoever will play the part on Broadway has some big shoes to fill and in my opinion has to go with a totally different interpretation of Scorpius because you can't imitate Anthony Boyle.

Before this blog gets even longer i won't go into detail about the other actors, but i have to especially mention Esther Smith as Delphi and Paul Bennett as Snape for doing an especially great job.

     The special effects

Please don't ask me how they do it! The special effects are incredible, they are like real magic and with some tricks i still have no clue how they do it . I was sitting there with my jaw open and it was just magical. I can’t even say what i loved best it was all so amazing. But please never let the Dementors near me again. They were so creepy and frightening, amazingly made, but so creepy, not to even mention their terrifying screams. I never felt that horrified in my life before, i guess that’s the biggest compliment i can make the person, whoever designed them.

      The costumes

All of the costumes were beautiful and fitted the characters very well. I loved how flowy the cloakes were, what looked really good in the dance numbers. I especially liked the costumes for the alternate Voldemort timeline, they were all black and so beautifully elegant especially Scorpius‘, Draco's and Snape's costumes.

      Things i didn't like

There wasn't much that i didn't like and it's really just nitpicking, but every great thing always has some flaws that's normal.

First of all i had some problems with some specific actors, mainly with the actor who played Bane. He was so over the top that it was nearly hilarious to me. Maybe he had a bad day or just is not my cup of tea.

As much as i loved Paul Bennett as Snape his voice was way too special to play Voldemort as well, it was a little bit outputting as it was very clear that it was the same actor. Normally theatre can hide it very well when an actor plays multiple roles, but that really doesn’t work with Paul Bennett. I really loved his Snape (which means a lot form e as a hardcore Snape fan), but because he was so special and fitted so well to Snape, it was to me as Snape tried to pretend he is Voldemort, which felt really weird to me. And i really didn't like that they went with no nose ,new body Voldemort as up to my knowlegde he only looks like this since book four. I guess they made it so the audience can recognize him better.

The last things i wasn't too fond of (but didn't hate either) were the Trolley Witch (it was very cleverly made and funny just a little bit too much for me personally) and Delphi. I loved Esthers portrayal of her especially at the beginning and i don't have anything against the idea of Voldemort having a child and overall i liked Delphi, but they could have developed her character a little bit more at the end, that's all.  As i said nitpicking.

All in all it was one of the best days of my life and the show is amazing and i love it with all my heart. If you have a chance to see it: DO IT!!! It is one of the most beautiful Harry Potter related things i have seen and please don't judge it too soon by just reading the script. The script is very empty without seeing this wonderful show bringing it to life

I know this blog is very long, but i hope you enjoyed <3

[ajwmagickl]

2016 Fic Writing Review

Tagged by @canoncannon.  I lost my first draft of this but I’m trying again! Thanks for the tag. 

1. List of works published this year: By word count… The First Night. My second fanfic, and the first time I’ve ever written smut.  It took two counseling sessions, but by golly, I got it out there!

Brothers.  My first fanfic ever in my whole long life.  I was terrified but found out that the Desus community on AO3 is kind and supportive.

A Bedtime Story. This is an out of place little story that didn’t get many hits, but I love it  all the same.  I got the idea from @canoncannon, who promised a fluffy bunny story where everyone lives happily ever after, and I TOOK THAT TOO SERIOUSLY.

The Second Christmas. This was for DWG Holiday Bingo.  I can’t think of little bitty boy Daryl without just wanting to hold him in my lap and cuddle him and tell him everything’s gonna be okay.

Between the Lines. A collection of short ficlets, most drabbles pulled from longer fics because they didn’t fit for one reason or another, but I like them enough to share them.

The Quilt. SO fun to write.  One of my favorites, because Jesus is always so controlled.  I like to knock him for a loop once in awhile.

Candy Cane. Another bingo prompt, another fun one to write!  It was supposed to be longer but I didn’t have time to finish it, so I just stuck a fork in it and called it done.  But it wasn’t done.  Eep.

The Ritual.  A short, dark fic that also had a wonky ending.  It was part of another fic and ended up trying to stand alone.  It might’ve been too ambitious.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why): I worked hard with the characterizations on Brothers, and I’m pleased with how that turned out.  It was just the right amount of fluff and brotherly love.  I’m also pretty darn proud of The Quilt because it was so much fun and made people laugh.  And even though it didn’t get a lot of hits, A Bedtime Story is one of my favorites because it’s so odd.  

3. Work you are least proud of (and why)? The Ritual, because it’s unfinished and I feel like there could’ve been so much more there.  And The First Night, because I felt like the writing was inconsistent and the flow stunted in places. That fic and The Second Christmas both have places I rushed through and should’ve revisited.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:B

From Chapter 2 of Between the Lines, Jesus is contemplating the complexities of all that is Daryl Dixon:  “No, this man was all heart, muscle, bone, and raw emotion; untamed, with a piercing intellect, an instinctual courage, and an uncanny resourcefulness. The confusing part, Paul mused, was that the hunter seemed to have no self-awareness of his attributes, but instead carried the weight of his faults like a yoke.”   Someone actually pointed this paragraph out in a comment and it made my day.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received: NO DOUBT, that’s when I gifted A Bedtime Story to CanonCannon and she (she? he? sh/he?) and she listed her favorite parts.  And it was such a strange little fic, but I felt UNDERSTOOD. :)

6. Share a time when writing was really, really hard: 

It always feels really, really hard.  I fight fear every time.  I write and post even when I think it’s all garbage and I wish I were a better writer.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: I think it was writing The Quilt, because it was pretty effortless writing which is a miracle, and it required very little editing.  Plus, I’ve never written or even thought much about fetishes, and I didn’t really expect to have Jesus be the off-kilter one in this story, but it was fun.  

8. How did you grow as a writer this year: I took the plunge and started writing and posting, and I learned that having a crappy fic or two out there doesn’t matter.  The courage does.

9. How do you hope to grow next year: I feel like I’m still trying to find ‘my voice’.  I can write most honestly in humor, but man I try to write serious stuff it’s like walking across a slimy riverbed - I slip up very easily and feel like I’m always trying to right myself.  Also, I have some multi-chapter fics I’ve been working on that I want to post.  But I need to get to a certain point with them before I put them out there.  I don’t trust myself to finish if I don’t have an endgame in mind.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): SO MANY… some of the Rickyl writers are amazing (Katietheinspiredworkaholic, TWDObsessive) and the Desus writers Mugatu, Waredness, Sherstrader, and of course CanonCannon (can I just stop mentioning you now, I’m getting embarrassed), cougarlips and oxeyegen (I know I’m forgetting some) really impressed, influenced and encouraged me.  I went back to the earlier fictions of some of my favorite writers and found out that they got better and better the more they wrote, and that really helped me out.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

You mean besides my total and complete life obsession with The Walking Dead and Desus?  Yeah, but it came up in a counseling session so shhhh....

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Even if you have no idea what you’re doing, do it anyway.  That’s all I got.  

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I have two multi-chapter fics that still need fleshing out before I post them but I’m really excited about both of them!

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. Well, since I have one follower and they tagged me, I’ll just leave it here.

#desus

#darus

#daryl x jesus

#fanfic

#writing

[omegasupremeconservative]

The MAGABomber Story: What The Media Isn’t Telling You

Is The Mail Pipe Bomb Story A False Flag Or Is It Real?

Americans are sometimes skeptical, cynical, and pessimistic. We are bombarded everyday by large amounts of information, some research into advertising has suggested that the average person sees up to 4,000 ads everyday. My point is more than ever we have to practice “getting out of the matrix” and instead of being sheep and simply believing what we are told and what is reported, we need to question everything and ultimately believe our own instincts aka “trust our own gut”.

I live in the Washington, DC area, you have to be very careful wearing a MAGA hat, contrary to popular belief many liberals are intolerant, they are emotional and tend to believe everything the media says about Donald Trump and his supporters. Make America Great Again is racist to many people in the DC Swamp and they believe Trump supporters are Nazis.

With that said how can this man living in South Florida not a place friendly to Donald Trump be driving around in a van fully covered with Trump stickers all over every window? How wasn’t he pulled over by police for having stickers covering up literally every window (see picture below).

MAGABomber Van

From Rush Limbaugh: “This van, every window has stickers, decals, bumper stickers! There are so many of ’em, you can’t see out these windows. The first reaction I had when I first heard — when I first was told and believed it — that this was the guy’s van, my first reaction, “How in the world does a van like that in south Florida not get defaced?”

If you are a Trump Supporter wearing any kind of MAGA gear depending on where you live you will be attacked by unhinged Democrats, liberals and progressives. There is no doubt about this and the media could care less. Look at this report of 133 attacks on Trump Supporters. Just putting a Trump bumper sticker on your car will get your car keyed up and defaced in many places but if you have an Obama or Hillary sticker your safe. People have gone mad when it comes to Trump. The point is unless you live in a place that is very conservative and Trump friendly you usually wouldn’t find anyone behaving like this.

Key MAGABomber Details The Media Won’t Ask

According to this article Cesar Sayoc is a registered Democrat. Here is a screenshot of his profile on MyLife before the internet police scrubbed it.

Cesar Sayoc Was a Registered Democrat

The mail bombs didn’t even have the correct postage stamps on them another red flag. If this guy was supposedly smart enough to put together a bomb how come he wasn’t smart enough to put the proper postage on the packages? See pictures:

Mail Bomb Package 2

How did the authorities apprehend all these mail bombs so quickly?

“The USPS does not deliver to homes of anyone under Secret Service protection like former presidents Clinton and Obama. All mail addressed to their residence is delivered to the Secret Service field office. Therefore, the reports that bombs were delivered to the homes of 2 former presidents is an absolute LIE!” -> (this comes from a Twitter account called @RedWaveSurfer but I can’t confirm the actually account). This information is still accurate regarding how USPS handles former Presidents mail.

Bill Mitch on Twitter wrote this

Wait let’s see. “Bombs” sent in envelopes creating maximum suspicion (because they look and feel like bombs). You send them from the same district you are actually in. Your van is covered in Trump stickers to point of being ridiculous.

This guy WANTED to be caught.

— Bill Mitchell (@mitchellvii) October 26, 2018

All the stickers on the suspected bombers van haven’t faded, if you are living in South Florida where it’s usually hot and you have these many stickers on your vehicle how come none of them are faded? In fact they look brand new.

The so called MAGABomber was homeless living out of his van, how did he have the means to put together fake bombs and mail out 13 IED devices?

His Twitter profile which has more than likely been removed by now is skeptical, he was only following about 30 people including President Trump but he had another Twitter account where he followed mostly liberals. Was this guy bipolar?

His Twitter account also looked like it was just created the hallmarks of a false flag operation. Take a look at any real Twitter account from a Trump supporter and you will see a long trail dating back to 2016 at the very least.

He was tweeting the same type of content over and over, another red flag that this was a troll account or a sock puppet account, his social media account was NOT REAL in my opinion.

Check out YouTuber TrutherTalk (you must subscribe to her on YouTube) give her point of view on the so called #MagaBomber Cesar Sayoc story.

Watch Shepard Smith Try To Make Trump Responsible For The So Called MAGABomber Attack

I was surprised to see Chris Wallace debunk the subtle attacks from Shepard Smith.

Watch Ali Alexander’s Breakdown On The Bomber Hoax

Please listen/watch this video, Ali Alexander has the same attitude as me. “When the gatekeepers tell you not to think”, its because they want to think for you“. This is what my entire website blog is about, thinking for yourself, expanding your mind your perspective and point of view. Get used to using your mind and thinking on a regular basis. Don’t rely on the media to tell you the truth, that goes for all the major media outlets including Fox News. Some people think that because I am conservative I love Fox News, let me be clear I don’t trust them either but “sometimes” they put out truthful information.

Check Out A Lionel As He Discusses The #BombHoax

FBI Director Chris Wray came out last Friday October 26, on the same day they captured Cesar Sayoc to give a press conference. He confirmed that 13 devices were sent out via mail. Each device consisted of PVC pipe, a small clock, a battery, some wiring and what is known as “energetic material”. He makes it clear that these are NOT hoax devices. Much of the rest of Director Wray’s conference was dedicated to applauding the work of the men and women of law enforcement for their effort in catching this criminal. I agree and applaud our law enforcement and thank them for everything they do!

Director Wray made a statement that is very concerning towards the end of his press conference saying “there may be other packages in transit now“. What makes him say there may be more packages? What evidence does he have? Is law enforcement not confident they captured the mastermind? Then he says if you have any information to please call us. This is very alarming and it seems this situation may not be over yet.

We still don’t know what the motive was for sending these bombs that didn’t work? Are we supposed to believe that a homeless deranged Trump supporter who used to be a Democrat decided to send 13 IED devices in the mail with the wrong postage stamps, misspelling many of the “targets” names on the labels, sending one of the packages to the wrong address, and intentionally making sure none of the bombs go off? Why would he do that? Are more bombs coming? Is this going to happen before the 2016 Midterms. Is Cesar Sayoc a complete idiot, a patsy or a criminal mastermind?

Dan Bongino a former Secret Service Agent weighed in saying this:

“I believe this person is going to be caught expeditiously in the coming days. I believe who it is…. I better not say too much…is going to surprise you. I think it’s going to surprise a lot of people what’s going on behind the scenes with this,” said Bongino, adding that the culprit wanted the devices to be detected.

“Bongino also suggested that the individual deliberately designed the bombs not to go off because none of the packages exploded and some were constructed with shoddy plastic piping.”

Dan Bongino mimicked something that Director Wray said during his press conference saying that he is worried that there will now be a “tactical shift” from devices that didn’t go off, to devices that WILL GO OFF. I pray to God this isn’t true.

The mainstream media seems to be content with blaming this all on Trump’s rhetoric but they have yet to really do a deep dive and ask tough questions. The first question would be WHY?

President Trump has openly said at rallies he hopes his political enemies like Elizabeth Warren, Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, Cory Booker, or Hillary Clinton run for President. This is all on tape and public record. He WANTS them to RUN because he believes he will beat them easily. He has bragged about it. If you understood President Trump’s personality you would know he takes pride in winning. Winning for Trump isn’t having someone else win for him and it’s certainly not having some deranged criminal send pipe bombs in the mail to his political enemies.

Paul Joseph Watson Chimes In On The Mail Bomber

Check out this video from Patriot Douglass Ducote Sr. Founder and CEO of Veterans United For Justice also retired US Army and veteran law enforcement officer as he explains from his vast military and law enforcement perspective that “there is way more to this than what we are being told”.

Of course there are contrary arguments and voices on the other side. Check out these guys from The Damage Report who seem to be reasonable liberals (I think they are liberal but I could be wrong) ask the question if this #MAGABomber story could be fake. Specifically they discuss the van the alleged perpetrator drove in this video.

Their conclusion so far is:

They say “take it with a grain of salt” that this guy Cesar Sayoc is a genuine Trump supporter.

“He is about as Trump Supportery as you can be”.

“That combined with his long list of targets that he chose, an enemies list of Donald Trump effectively that he was able to compile from Donald Trump’s statements and speeches..makes it pretty clear”.

My analysis and perspective:

I am a genuine Trump Supporter, there is no way I would stick all these stickers on my vehicle, why on earth would I block all my windows including my rear windows with Trump stickers? Whoever thinks this is a genuine Trump supporter is misguided. Most Trump supporters are in the closet because they live in cities where the liberals are unhinged and intolerant and it will cause problems for them to “come out” as a Trump supporter.

This van is strange and I bet you can’t find one genuine Trump supporter with a vehicle like this. Many of these stickers don’t even make sense to me as a Trump supporter.

Trump supporters will wear MAGA hats, a MAGA shirt of some kind, that is usually about it. We aren’t draping ourselves with Trump gear from head to toe even at a Trump rally and we certainly aren’t pimping out our vehicles with MAGA, PENCE, and all this other nonsense that liberals think Trump supporters are into.

Hopefully we have no more bombs, I pray we don’t. We still don’t know why the bomber did this, if he did it, or if we even have the right guy. Could there be others? Donald Trump has been President for almost 2 years, he has given over 100 rallies, if these rallies were so violent and divisive in nature wouldn’t there be more Cesar Sayoc’s out there? Wouldn’t there be more tragedies if Trump rallies are so divisive? The Trump rallies are fully televised for all to see I challenge anyone to point me to what Trump has said at any rally that would cause a person of sound mind to commit an act of violence.

Any nut-job, crazy psycho can be triggered by anything or nothing at all so the mental stability of a person is key. These accusations against Trump for his so called “divisive rhetoric” is ludicrous when he is doing what every politician on the planet does which is make derogatory remarks against his political opponents.

      The post The MAGABomber Story: What The Media Isn’t Telling You appeared first on Alternative News Source, Research and Analysis.

source http://ugetinformed.com/politics/the-magabomber-story-what-the-media-isnt-telling-you

[recentnews18-blog]

New Post has been published on https://shovelnews.com/the-creator-of-bojack-horseman-comes-from-a-home-of-funny-jews/

The creator of 'BoJack Horseman' comes from a home of funny Jews

Jerusalem draws in animation bigwigs from all over

Antisemitism czar slams German cartoon as ‘Nazi propaganda’

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Bojack Horseman. (photo credit: YOUTUBE SCREENSHOT)

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While growing up in Palo Alto, Raphael Bob-Waksberg was a serious consumer of popular culture. He would watch TV for hours on end and view movies over and over until he memorized them. In particular, he was a huge fan of “The Simpsons.”

“We used to talk about Bart and Lisa at the dinner table as if they were real people,” said his mother, Ellen Bob.

Nowadays, the conversation around American tables is more likely about “Bojack Horseman” a successful Netflix animated series created by Bob-Waksberg. The show’s fifth season premiered on Sept. 14.

In addition, Comedy Central recently acquired the rights to reruns of “BoJack Horseman,” reportedly making it the first Netflix show to enter TV syndication in the United States. Season 1 reruns are scheduled to begin on Sept. 26.

The show is an adult drama-comedy set in an imaginary Hollywood populated by humans and anthropomorphized animals (the eponymous main character, BoJack Horseman, has a horse’s head and man’s body), and has catapulted Bob-Waksberg’s career to new levels in the real Hollywood.

In addition to his work as head writer and showrunner for “BoJack,” Bob-Waksberg is developing new shows for Netflix and Amazon. He’s also writing a book of short stories scheduled to be published next year by a major imprint.

The 34-year-old’s success has come as no surprise to family, friends, rabbis and teachers in the Bay Area who nurtured his creativity and independent thinking from an early age.

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“I think Raphael was really headed in that direction since his teen years,” said family friend Nechama Tamler, a longtime Jewish educator who early on recognized his writing and performing talent.

Simultaneously sad and funny, but mostly funny, “BoJack” is a satire about the elusive nature of happiness. It has gained praise for its intelligent writing that does not adhere to the typical sitcom formula, and there is no emotional closure at the end of each episode. It’s an ongoing, frustrating effort for characters to learn and grow from their mistakes, and to grapple with the meaning of existence.

The titular character, the deeply flawed BoJack Horseman (voiced by Will Arnett of “Arrested Development”), struggles after his successful acting career flounders. Fans still recognize BoJack for his role as a young, single guy who adopts three orphans in a popular late 1980s sitcom called “Horsin’ Around.” However, now he’s a 50-something depressive addicted to alcohol and drugs. Critically, he lacks the required self-awareness to stop from hurting himself and those closest to him.

When Todd (voiced by Aaron Paul of “Breaking Bad”), a slacker who lives on BoJack’s couch and suffers the equine actor’s constant indifference, has had enough of BoJack’s apologies, he yells at him: “You can’t keep doing shitty things and then feel bad about yourself, like that makes it OK. You need to be better … You are all the things that are wrong with you. It’s not the alcohol, or the drugs, or any of the shitty things that happened to you in your career, or when you were a kid. It’s you.”

The message is that there are no easy answers, and that making amends takes hard work. Ultimately, actions speak louder than words.

Bob-Waksberg’s father, David Waksberg, recognized the Jewishness of this value immediately.

“When a friend asked me about it after the first season, I said it was about teshuvah,” he said, using the Hebrew word for the Jewish concept of repentance.

For his part, Bob-Waksberg wasn’t quite sure how to answer when asked whether his Jewish identity influences his writing, and in particular the melancholic humor of “BoJack.”

“Asking me that question is like asking a fish how much being in water has affected it,” he said.

Bob-Waksberg grew up in Palo Alto in the late 1980s and 1990s with two younger sisters, Becky and Amalia, in a family that was — and still is — very involved in the Jewish community. David Waksberg worked to free and resettle Soviet Jewry, and is now the CEO of the San Francisco-based Jewish LearningWorks, the central agency promoting Jewish education in the Bay Area. Ellen Bob ran a Judaica store (Bob and Bob) with her mother for 26 years, and in 2011 joined Congregation Etz Chayim as executive director.

Humor was always central to life at home.

“We like to laugh … big belly laughs,” Ellen Bob recalled. “David is a great storyteller and joke teller. He would regale the kids with routines from Steve Martin, Woody Allen … and songs from Tom Lehrer. I’m more of a wisecracker. Like my son, nothing gives me more pleasure than to make someone laugh.”

She said she is always pleased when her son makes a point of telling his interviewers (and there are many) that his was a happy childhood, and that BoJack’s family is not based on his family of origin.

“I’m delighted to be known as Raphael’s mother, as long as people don’t think BoJack’s mother is based on me,” she said, alluding to Beatrice Horseman (Wendie Malick), a neglectful and abusive heiress to a sugar cube company who appears primarily in flashbacks.

In looking back on his childhood and adolescence, Bob-Waksberg pointed to Mid-Peninsula Jewish Community Day School (now Gideon Hausner Jewish Day School), the Palo Alto Children’s Theatre and the Gunn High School drama program as other outlets where his creativity was rewarded.

“In school, there were a handful of teachers who understood me. And there were many who didn’t. I didn’t make it easy for them,” he joked.

Rabbi Sheldon Lewis, rabbi emeritus at Congregation Kol Emeth in Palo Alto, recalled Bob-Waksberg as “not an easy student” in the religious school.

“It was because he was so clever and beyond his years in creativity, humor and mischief,” he said.

Despite having grown up in the Palo Alto academic pressure cooker, Bob-Waksberg was never saddled with any expectation that he would become a doctor, lawyer or founder of a startup. His parents were always supportive of his creative leanings.

“It was pretty clear to me that he was going to need to figure a way to make a living through the arts because it was the only thing he knew how to do,” his mother said.

Like “BoJack Horseman,” the shows Bob-Waksberg is writing for Netflix and Amazon are also animated. It’s not a format the graduate of Bard College in New York originally planned to work in when he moved to Los Angeles after trying his hand at comedy writing in the Big Apple.

In his spare time, he collaborated off and on for a decade with his high school friend, illustrator Lisa Hanawalt, on a cartoon featuring human-like animals, which became the basis for “BoJack.” Hanawalt is now a production designer and producer for the show.

The program was in development with Michael Eisner’s company, Tornante, for a couple of years before it went to Netflix, which wanted it to be put into quick production for a summer 2014 premiere.

“I didn’t know I would get into animation. I was initially writing for live action, but ‘BoJack’ is the one [project] that went,” Bob-Waksberg said.

He said this decade has been an exciting time to be working in animation, and that he has an appetite for more.

“Animation is a format, not a genre,” Bob-Waksberg said. “There is a lot to do in animation for adults. What has been done in the past has been limited in scope and has lived in the shadow of ‘The Simpsons.’ The new shows I am developing are about women, which is really fresh.”

Much has changed for Bob-Waksberg in the past few years. On the personal side, he was married a year ago.

Bob-Waksberg and his wife have not yet found a synagogue in Santa Monica that feels like the right fit for them, but they welcome Shabbat on Friday evenings at home.

“My wife grew up more observant than me, so she has been a good influence and has helped me reconnect to Jewish practice,” Bob-Waksberg said. “We even had benchers [blessing booklets] at our wedding, which surprised my parents.”

Professionally, Bob-Waksberg has become more aware of his role and responsibility in the pop culture universe. First, he checks himself as to whom he hires, ensuring that he brings in writers and cast members of diverse backgrounds.

Additionally, he doubts he would now make some of the jokes he made about anti-Semitism, the Holocaust and Nazis in the show’s first season.

“Those jokes were made in the spirit of Mel Brooks, in the sense that you have to laugh at the things that scare you,” he said. “But now I think a lot about how what is said on ‘BoJack’ will be perceived by the audience.”

Speaking to that point, Bob-Waksberg recalled how, as he was growing up in Palo Alto, other kids would tease him with anti-Semitic taunts they had heard on the Comedy Central animated series “South Park.” The writers of that show meant it to be satirical and did not intend to actually be anti-Semitic, but that was lost on Bob-Waksberg’s young tormentors.

He would hope that viewers take dialogue from “BoJack” in context, understanding that it is not what the writers are saying, but rather the flawed characters’ thoughts or opinions. However, Bob-Waksberg said he is more averse these days to taking a writing risk, lest the point be lost or weaponized.

“If we make jokes that are bad for society,” he said, “then it is on us.”

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Source: https://www.jpost.com/Israel-News/Culture/The-creator-of-BoJack-Horseman-comes-from-a-home-of-funny-Jews-567244

[catholicwatertown]

First World Day of the Poor message released

(Vatican Radio) The Vatican on Tuesday released Pope Francis' message for the First World Day of the Poor which will be observed later this year on the 19th of November.

  Please find the English translation of the message below: 

  Message of His Holiness Pope Francis

for the First World Day of the Poor

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

19 November 2017

  Let us love, not with words but with deeds

  1.         “Little children, let us not love in word or speech, but in deed and in truth” (1 Jn 3:18).  These words of the Apostle John voice an imperative that no Christian may disregard.  The seriousness with which the “beloved disciple” hands down Jesus’ command to our own day is made even clearer by the contrast between the empty words so frequently on our lips and the concrete deeds against which we are called to measure ourselves.  Love has no alibi.  Whenever we set out to love as Jesus loved, we have to take the Lord as our example; especially when it comes to loving the poor.  The Son of God’s way of loving is well-known, and John spells it out clearly.  It stands on two pillars: God loved us first (cf. 1 Jn 4:10.19), and he loved us by giving completely of himself, even to laying down his life (cf. 1 Jn 3:16).

            Such love cannot go unanswered.  Even though offered unconditionally, asking nothing in return, it so sets hearts on fire that all who experience it are led to love back, despite their limitations and sins.  Yet this can only happen if we welcome God’s grace, his merciful charity, as fully as possible into our hearts, so that our will and even our emotions are drawn to love both God and neighbour.  In this way, the mercy that wells up – as it were – from the heart of the Trinity can shape our lives and bring forth compassion and works of mercy for the benefit of our brothers and sisters in need.

2.         “This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him” (Ps 34:6).  The Church has always understood the importance of this cry.  We possess an outstanding testimony to this in the very first pages of the Acts of the Apostles, where Peter asks that seven men, “full of the Spirit and of wisdom” (6:3), be chosen for the ministry of caring for the poor.  This is certainly one of the first signs of the entrance of the Christian community upon the world’s stage: the service of the poor.  The earliest community realized that being a disciple of Jesus meant demonstrating fraternity and solidarity, in obedience to the Master’s proclamation that the poor are blessed and heirs to the Kingdom of heaven (cf. Mt 5:3).

            “They sold their possessions and goods and distributed them to all, as any had need” (Acts 2:45).  In these words, we see clearly expressed the lively concern of the first Christians.  The evangelist Luke, who more than any other speaks of mercy, does not exaggerate when he describes the practice of sharing in the early community.  On the contrary, his words are addressed to believers in every generation, and thus also to us, in order to sustain our own witness and to encourage our care for those most in need.  The same message is conveyed with similar conviction by the Apostle James.  In his Letter, he spares no words: “Listen, my beloved brethren.  Has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?  But you have dishonoured the poor man.  Is it not the rich who oppress you, and drag you into court? ... What does it profit, my brethren, if a man says he has faith but has not works?  Can his faith save him?  If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and in lack of daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled”, without giving them the things needed for the body; what does it profit?  So faith by itself, if it has not works, is dead’ (2:5-6.14-17).

3.         Yet there have been times when Christians have not fully heeded this appeal, and have assumed a worldly way of thinking.  Yet the Holy Spirit has not failed to call them to keep their gaze fixed on what is essential.  He has raised up men and women who, in a variety of ways, have devoted their lives to the service of the poor.  Over these two thousand years, how many pages of history have been written by Christians who, in utter simplicity and humility, and with generous and creative charity, have served their poorest brothers and sisters!

            The most outstanding example is that of Francis of Assisi, followed by many other holy men and women over the centuries.  He was not satisfied to embrace lepers and give them alms, but chose to go to Gubbio to stay with them.  He saw this meeting as the turning point of his conversion: “When I was in my sins, it seemed a thing too bitter to look on lepers, and the Lord himself led me among them and I showed them mercy.  And when I left them, what had seemed bitter to me was changed into sweetness of mind and body” (Text 1-3: FF 110).  This testimony shows the transformative power of charity and the Christian way of life.

            We may think of the poor simply as the beneficiaries of our occasional volunteer work, or of impromptu acts of generosity that appease our conscience.  However good and useful such acts may be for making us sensitive to people’s needs and the injustices that are often their cause, they ought to lead to a true encounter with the poor and a sharing that becomes a way of life.  Our prayer and our journey of discipleship and conversion find the confirmation of their evangelic authenticity in precisely such charity and sharing.  This way of life gives rise to joy and peace of soul, because we touch with our own hands the flesh of Christ.  If we truly wish to encounter Christ, we have to touch his body in the suffering bodies of the poor, as a response to the sacramental communion bestowed in the Eucharist.  The Body of Christ, broken in the sacred liturgy, can be seen, through charity and sharing, in the faces and persons of the most vulnerable of our brothers and sisters.  Saint John Chrysostom’s admonition remains ever timely: “If you want to honour the body of Christ, do not scorn it when it is naked; do not honour the Eucharistic Christ with silk vestments, and then, leaving the church, neglect the other Christ suffering from cold and nakedness” (Hom. in Matthaeum, 50.3: PG 58). 

            We are called, then, to draw near to the poor, to encounter them, to meet their gaze, to embrace them and to let them feel the warmth of love that breaks through their solitude.  Their outstretched hand is also an invitation to step out of our certainties and comforts, and to acknowledge the value of poverty in itself.

4.         Let us never forget that, for Christ’s disciples, poverty is above all a call to follow Jesus in his own poverty.  It means walking behind him and beside him, a journey that leads to the beatitude of the Kingdom of heaven (cf. Mt 5:3; Lk 6:20).  Poverty means having a humble heart that accepts our creaturely limitations and sinfulness and thus enables us to overcome the temptation to feel omnipotent and immortal.  Poverty is an interior attitude that avoids looking upon money, career and luxury as our goal in life and the condition for our happiness.  Poverty instead creates the conditions for freely shouldering our personal and social responsibilities, despite our limitations, with trust in God’s closeness and the support of his grace.  Poverty, understood in this way, is the yardstick that allows us to judge how best to use material goods and to build relationships that are neither selfish nor possessive (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, Nos. 25-45).

            Let us, then, take as our example Saint Francis and his witness of authentic poverty.  Precisely because he kept his gaze fixed on Christ, Francis was able to see and serve him in the poor.  If we want to help change history and promote real development, we need to hear the cry of the poor and commit ourselves to ending their marginalization.  At the same time, I ask the poor in our cities and our communities not to lose the sense of evangelical poverty that is part of their daily life.

5.         We know how hard it is for our contemporary world to see poverty clearly for what it is.  Yet in myriad ways poverty challenges us daily, in faces marked by suffering, marginalization, oppression, violence, torture and imprisonment, war, deprivation of freedom and dignity, ignorance and illiteracy, medical emergencies and shortage of work, trafficking and slavery, exile, extreme poverty and forced migration.  Poverty has the face of women, men and children exploited by base interests, crushed by the machinations of power and money.  What a bitter and endless list we would have to compile were we to add the poverty born of social injustice, moral degeneration, the greed of a chosen few, and generalized indifference!

            Tragically, in our own time, even as ostentatious wealth accumulates in the hands of the privileged few, often in connection with illegal activities and the appalling exploitation of human dignity, there is a scandalous growth of poverty in broad sectors of society throughout our world.  Faced with this scenario, we cannot remain passive, much less resigned.  There is a poverty that stifles the spirit of initiative of so many young people by keeping them from finding work.  There is a poverty that dulls the sense of personal responsibility and leaves others to do the work while we go looking for favours.  There is a poverty that poisons the wells of participation and allows little room for professionalism; in this way it demeans the merit of those who do work and are productive.  To all these forms of poverty we must respond with a new vision of life and society.

            All the poor – as Blessed Paul VI loved to say – belong to the Church by “evangelical right” (Address at the Opening of the Second Session of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, 29 September 1963), and require of us a fundamental option on their behalf.  Blessed, therefore, are the open hands that embrace the poor and help them: they are hands that bring hope.  Blessed are the hands that reach beyond every barrier of culture, religion and nationality, and pour the balm of consolation over the wounds of humanity.  Blessed are the open hands that ask nothing in exchange, with no “ifs” or “buts” or “maybes”: they are hands that call down God’s blessing upon their brothers and sisters.

6.         At the conclusion of the Jubilee of Mercy, I wanted to offer the Church a World Day of the Poor, so that throughout the world Christian communities can become an ever greater sign of Christ’s charity for the least and those most in need.  To the World Days instituted by my Predecessors, which are already a tradition in the life of our communities, I wish to add this one, which adds to them an exquisitely evangelical fullness, that is, Jesus’ preferential love for the poor.

            I invite the whole Church, and men and women of good will everywhere, to turn their gaze on this day to all those who stretch out their hands and plead for our help and solidarity.  They are our brothers and sisters, created and loved by the one Heavenly Father.  This Day is meant, above all, to encourage believers to react against a culture of discard and waste, and to embrace the culture of encounter.  At the same time, everyone, independent of religious affiliation, is invited to openness and sharing with the poor through concrete signs of solidarity and fraternity.  God created the heavens and the earth for all; yet sadly some have erected barriers, walls and fences, betraying the original gift meant for all humanity, with none excluded.

7.         It is my wish that, in the week preceding the World Day of the Poor, which falls this year on 19 November, the Thirty-third Sunday of Ordinary Time, Christian communities will make every effort to create moments of encounter and friendship, solidarity and concrete assistance.  They can invite the poor and volunteers to take part together in the Eucharist on this Sunday, in such a way that there be an even more authentic celebration of the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, Universal King, on the following Sunday.  The kingship of Christ is most evident on Golgotha, when the Innocent One, nailed to the cross, poor, naked and stripped of everything, incarnates and reveals the fullness of God’s love.  Jesus’ complete abandonment to the Father expresses his utter poverty and reveals the power of the Love that awakens him to new life on the day of the Resurrection.

            This Sunday, if there are poor people where we live who seek protection and assistance, let us draw close to them: it will be a favourable moment to encounter the God we seek.  Following the teaching of Scripture (cf. Gen 18:3-5; Heb 13:2), let us welcome them as honoured guests at our table; they can be teachers who help us live the faith more consistently.  With their trust and readiness to receive help, they show us in a quiet and often joyful way, how essential it is to live simply and to abandon ourselves to God’s providence.

8.         At the heart of all the many concrete initiatives carried out on this day should always be prayer.  Let us not forget that the Our Father is the prayer of the poor.  Our asking for bread expresses our entrustment to God for our basic needs in life.  Everything that Jesus taught us in this prayer expresses and brings together the cry of all who suffer from life’s uncertainties and the lack of what they need.  When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he answered in the words with which the poor speak to our one Father, in whom all acknowledge themselves as brothers and sisters.  The Our Father is a prayer said in the plural: the bread for which we ask is “ours”, and that entails sharing, participation and joint responsibility.  In this prayer, all of us recognize our need to overcome every form of selfishness, in order to enter into the joy of mutual acceptance.

9.         I ask my brother Bishops, and all priests and deacons who by their vocation have the mission of supporting the poor, together with all consecrated persons and all associations, movements and volunteers everywhere, to help make this World Day of the Poor a tradition that concretely contributes to evangelization in today’s world.

            This new World Day, therefore, should become a powerful appeal to our consciences as believers, allowing us to grow in the conviction that sharing with the poor enables us to understand the deepest truth of the Gospel.  The poor are not a problem: they are a resource from which to draw as we strive to accept and practise in our lives the essence of the Gospel.

  From the Vatican, 13 June 2017

Memorial of Saint Anthony of Padua

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[footyplusau]

Six degrees of Bob Murphy: Different views of a Western Bulldogs legend

Paul Kelly, Wil Anderson, friends, even his publican on what Bob Murphy means to them as the Western Bulldogs captain prepares for his 300th match.

Photo gallery

Photos: Bob Murphy marks 300 AFL games

PAUL KELLY Musician, songwriter

Dear Bob,

In show business, things aren’t always within your control. So it was that I found myself flying home from Dublin via Abu Dhabi last grand final day. We were three hours from landing when the game started. I paid for a wi-fi connection and managed to get score updates that clicked over every couple of minutes. By the last quarter a large swathe of passengers around me were tuned in to my announcements. With five minutes to go I called it for the Dogs just before all electronic devices had to be switched off as the plane prepared to land. Jubilation all round.

That night I watched every second of the replay on TV and, like many others, I suspect, wept as Luke Beveridge draped his premiership medal around your neck. Like many others, too, I’d been barracking for you and your brothers throughout your seemingly Quixotic finals campaign.

You’ve been called the “spirit of the club”. It’s a cliché overworked. But, in your case, perfectly apt. Cruelly injured for the whole season and unable to join your brothers in the heat of the final battle you were the animating force, the touchstone, the one everyone turned to and sought out.

Before the grand final you wrote about the loch locked inside of you, the secret sorrow at the deep heart of joy. You and Keats. “Ay, in the very temple of Delight veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shine.”

Things may not have turned out the way you imagined in your childhood dreams, your adult hopes. But something bigger, wider, deeper happened. Your particular trial made the whole a greater triumph. Your absence from the field made you even more present in the story. Your constraint generated enormous power.

Congratulations, Bob, sprite of the club. (Sprite – a legendary creature with magical powers). Congratulations, tough elf, on 300 bone-jarring games. Congratulations and thanks for it all, the great long story you’ve told. Your story isn’t done yet. It will run long after we’re gone.

Rock dogs: Bob Murphy and Paul Kelly at the Community Cup charity footy match in 2012. Photo: Craig Johnstone

WIL ANDERSON Comedian

 I remember distinctly the first time I saw The Artist Formerly Known As Robert Murphy play for the Dogs. As a fellow Gippslander I was excited to see this player who had been described as having the skill of a young Robert (Robbie not Bob) Flower.

But when young Robert took the field wearing the number 22 on his back, it seemed like the club was so poor they had got him a guernsey two sizes too big in the hope he would grow into it.

Physically he probably never did – I have a theory the reason he ended up wearing number 2 was, when they took the jumper in, his shoulders weren’t wide enough for two numbers – but 300 games later he is a giant of the club and the game.

Sometimes as footy fans I think we are disappointed when the way someone plays on the ground doesn’t represent who they are off it. But that has never been the case with Bob.

On the field his greatest skill is that he makes those around him better, and in turn makes the game better. And that’s what he’s like off the field too. A unique individual who loves being part of a team.

So congratulations, Murph. As Bulldogs fans, we’ve had way more than our two Bob’s worth. In fact there’s an idea. Is it too late to clone him?

A tribute to the many styles of Bob Murphy over 300 AFL games.

JOHN SCHULTZ Champion Footscray ruckman, 1960 Brownlow Medallist, mentor

I first met Bob during the pre-season of 2000 when I was fortunate to act as a mentor at the induction of the 1999 draft players. Former players are often asked to speak to inductees to explain what they can expect. We, past players, are always interested in the composition of the team each year and when you speak at an induction you forever have a special interest in these players. I found Bob to be a particularly interesting person; he certainly thinks outside the square and is, in many ways, not your typical league footballer. I recall him lobbying to retain the old tree stump in the property room, the stump that the boot-studder had used for many years as a support when he worked on the boots. I think Bob thought it had historical significance.

What a draft year that was for the Western Bulldogs. Bob, Daniel Giansiracusa, Lindsay Gilbee, Mitch Hahn, Ryan Hargrave and Nathan Eagleton. They formed lifelong friendships and Bob and Gia, who is now a Bulldogs coach, still do part of Bob’s pre-game warm-up together.

When Bob seriously injured a knee in the dying minutes of an exciting game against the Hawks on Sunday May 10, 2016, he only needed five more games to achieve the dreamed-of footballer’s goal of 300 games. It was an especially cruel blow because Bob had a similar injury in 2006 and he knew the hard work that the recovery would entail. His dilemma was whether to retire then or at his age try to recover the fitness and form that would assure him of a place in the side. Thankfully he decided to play on and what a joyous celebration it will be when he runs onto the ground on Saturday.

Class of ’99: draft buddies Daniel Giansiracusa and Robert Murphy Photo: Sebastian Costanzo

DIEGO ORTUSO Osteopath

In 2008 we struck a deal with a handshake, a so-called gentleman’s agreement, Bob and me. “I will get you to 200, but you have to get yourself to 250.” Back then he was injured, low, uncertain, hurting – but I knew he would get better, he just needed to become whole again. He couldn’t even see himself making it to 150 games, but he worked hard – physically, emotionally and mentally.

I used to tell him in those dark days, “I begin the treatment and will help bind your wounds, but it’s you who finishes it and heals them.” He is smart. He understood what needed to happen. He trusts me and I trust his health. This is the basis of our relationship. He bestows upon me the great privilege of caring for that which is most precious to him – his health. Even more importantly, the health of those he loves most – his family.

You can judge the size of the man by the size of the things that bother him, and recent setbacks have changed the way he views the horizon. But Bob understands perspective. In treatment we talk all sorts of things – about his body, what worries him, what’s on his mind and what’s in his heart. He’s not a tortured artist, though – he loves stories and he laughs easily, which can only be a good thing in the magnified world he exists in.

They also say you can judge a man by the company he keeps. Bob is wise enough to realise you only become better if you surround yourself with people who are better than you. He definitely has that in Justine. She is his wife, adviser, confidant, right-hand woman, the mother of his children and the real captain in his most important team. My wife describes Bob and Justine best. “When I’m around them I just feel like hugging them all the time.”

I’m proud to have watched the young rebel become a wise leader. Proud that he picked himself up from the ashes again. Proud that he stands up for what he believes in. Proud that on the field he can once again “move like Jagger”. Proud to call him my friend.

Murphy has had two knee reconstructions, 10 years apart. Photo: Martin Philbey

BEN HUDSON Former teammate

He cares for people, and that’s probably something not as common in footy circles. He’s the first to admit he’s not your typical footy nut, but you can see how the young players at the Bulldogs admire the way he goes about things, and he shows that care and empathy that goes beyond when they cross that white line.

I was lucky enough to share car rides with him to training, so I got to listen to his music and see what he wore into training. His fashion is left of centre and his music is the same, but that’s what makes Bob unique and such a loveable character. He’s pretty quiet and likes to keep to himself. Probably, in all honesty, he hates all the attention he’s copping his week.

When Luke Beveridge gave him his premiership medal, that’ll go down as one of the greatest sporting moments. When Beveridge let him lift the premiership cup, it was very emotional, but at the same time you could see the passion and care and what it meant to him, but also to all the supporters in the west. For that iconic moment, he got to share that moment that not many captains or players get to do. You’d have to ask him how he felt about not being able to play, but I reckon, at that split second, he didn’t care.

People’s beard: Murphy has described Ben Hudson as one of his his favourite teammates, while “Gia” is like family. Photo: Paul Rovere

PATRICK WALSH Publican

I’ve always said that if somebody was going to marry your sister you’d be pretty happy if it was Robert Murphy, and if you needed someone to find a target on their non-preferred side you’d be equally pleased.

We met for the first time in my pub, not long after he wrecked his knee for the first time. I was struck by him from the start – he was interested and interesting. Always admirable qualities, but especially so for someone who lived in the rarefied air of AFL. I felt like we were from a similar place. We talked about music, travel, love, family, writing, Guinness and sunscreen, occasionally arguing about football despite the vast difference in our qualifications.

We’ve covered a fair bit of ground since then and my understanding of a footballer’s life has changed how I watch the game. What hasn’t changed is that I’m very proud of my friend.

Usually after Christmas we have a kick, where he does all the running. I have never got a better appreciation of how good he is than in these moments. It’s like standing in the straight as the ponies head for home. If we get interrupted by his kids, or someone else’s, his football face goes and the other Robert seamlessly appears. Then it’s back to business, and just so you know, even when he’s easing into it, the ball smacks into your hands well before but exactly where you expect.

An osteo (Diego Ortuso), a publican (Patrick Walsh) and a footballer (Bob Murphy).

To mark his 300th game, Real Footy is republishing Murphy’s best-loved columns for The Age at our Facebook account. Enjoy, share and request a favourite.

The post Six degrees of Bob Murphy: Different views of a Western Bulldogs legend appeared first on Footy Plus.

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