#the straights really cannot comprehend men and women being friends

[wndaswife]

is it the lesbian experience to constantly have your desire for women be compared to how men desire women. these are the days where i wish desperately to have lesbian friends because im so annoyed having both my straight male friends and my gay friend compare me to how one of my friend’s boyfriends keeps sexualizing his girlfriend

like why tf am i in it now

moreover why can desire for women only be seen in this specific way

it’s so fucking annoying also when ur talking to someone who watches so much porn and also is gay so he cannot see attraction to women in any other way but how porn depicts it so he ends up being just a tiny bit misogynistic

like tell me why this man once showed me a video of this woman who was very obviously pandering to a porn-rotted brain male audience and when i said i wasn’t attracted to it and tried to explain my type he made a joke saying i was into kids…. like i understand it was a joke but he has also said out of disapproval of one of our friends’ boyfriends that he only likes her because she’s a porn category

i don’t really want to rant about gender dynamics and power right now it’s a can of worms but it’s sometimes so lonely being a lesbian because it’s so hard for people to even comprehend desire and interest in women that isn’t sexualized or objectifying

i hate having my love and admiration for women be compared to the only way people can understand interest in women, which is wanting to sexualize them and see them as objects, which is problematic in more than one way

[dr-futbol-blog]

Childhood's End

There sure are a lot of strapping young lads in this episode.

In Childhood's End (S01E06), we start sowing the seeds of jealousy that we find upon multiple instances both Sheppard and McKay express when it comes to the other's interest in a woman or a woman's interest in them (possibly this already started at the end of the previous episode with the handsy nurse; there Rodney was miffed, here Sheppard is miffed). Jealousy due to romantic rivalry between two men would make sense in a heteronormative context (women are paying more attention to my friend when they should be paying attention to me) but, uh. That is not and never will be the case with these two.

McKay mentions Samantha Carter at the outset and while he doesn't see the faces Sheppard pulls, we sure do. The thing is, McKay doesn't even say anything particularly incriminating. It's the mere tone of his voice when he mentions her name that Sheppard seems to pick up on.

Devil's advocate: Sheppard finds it distasteful that a fellow officer is being objectified. He finds 'locker room talk' crass, even though there's barely a hint of it here. Okay. But then he does this:

This lip thing is something that we see Sheppard do when ever he does not know how to deal with difficult emotions (a notable example is following the hug Elizabeth gives him after he survives a suicide mission in The Siege, Pt III). This is self-soothing behaviour.

The episode also starts with an example of something that I really don't like but which clearly stems from McKay's insecurity: indicating that he is of a superior intellect and that Sheppard is dumb ("I'm sorry: Yes, energy field good"). Yes, he also did that to Sam in the very beginning ("I have a weakness for dumb blondes"; let's preemptively insult the attractive person to take the sting off the inevitable rejection). He did actually already start this with Sheppard at the outset ("I knew that, of course. I'm just surprised that you did").

This is also one of the reasons I think 38 Minutes (S01E04) would have worked much better later on in the season: in it, we have another instance of McKay asserting his intellectual superiority over the others ("I apologise for being the only person who truly comprehends how screwed we are!") because he "reacts to certain doom a certain way" and Sheppard, being in the bind that he is, cuts him short real quick: "You've got to stop using your mouth and start using your brain!"

This is something that we return to time and again. McKay panics and starts going off on everyone around him focusing on all the wrong things, and Sheppard cuts through the fog to get his attention back to solving the problem.

In-universe, McKay is one of the smartest people alive. Some have argued even the smartest. According to Daniel Jackson, he could have won the Nobel Prize several times over. Yes. We later learn that Sheppard is of above-average intellect but obviously he is no match for Marty-Stu McKay because no one is.

Only, when it comes to strategy and strategic thinking, Sheppard is light years ahead of McKay.

This is a very good example of that: Sheppard is teaching McKay how to communicate on a mission. Be succinct, to the point, give only the information that is relevant. Clear communication and simplification of data is vital operation protocol, especially in scenarios of certain doom. Everyone knows that you're smarter than them my guy, he's just trying to keep you and everyone else unharmed.

This episode also marks the hilarious beginning of Sheppard's poor sense of direction. In fact, neither of them can keep a straight line with regards to orientation.

Sheppard can orient himself in the sky but not on land. McKay, as we later learn, cannot keep to a straight line on the ground or in the air.

In the episode, Keras and Sheppard bond real quick. The young village elder seems smitten. Good god, he looks Sheppard intensely in the eyes and says: "I’ll be honest with you, Sheppard. There’s nothing I’d like more than to spend more time talking with you… But it’s not possible." You know, like straight dudes do.

Sheppard also seems to like the boy just fine, although how much of his behaviour is designed simply to stop Keras from doing something he thinks is morally bankrupt is up in the air. They are sitting together, walking together, exchanging personal information.

There's also this:

Keras: Would you stand witness? Sheppard: Me? Well, what do I have to do? Keras: Just be there, as I prepare. We gather the strength from those close to us for the Sacrifice to come.

In the few brief moments they have spent together, they've apparently become close enough for him to ask Sheppard to witness his suicide ceremony. He even takes an arrow to the chest for this man he has just met.

What's real interesting, though, and which I'll return to in connection with Teyla's baby later is when Keras asks Sheppard whether he has any children. He responds: "Me? No. Not yet, anyway." Not yet. Not yet but he might want some one day.

The thing is, McKay's entire arc in this episode deals with him and how he is with children. He starts by being extremely annoyed by them like he's a big child himself. Ford tells the kids: "He's just upset because you're smarter than him." But by the end of the episode he has come to care for these children. He keeps them safe and protected, and makes sure that they haven't been hurt or traumatized by the ordeal. The persistence of these children changed him, and now he seems like he might make a great parent some day. And while they are antagonized by him, the kids also seem to really like him.

Now, what possible, possible reason could you have to bring up one character's desire for children in the future and showing what an excellent parent another character would make in the same episode? Hmm?

[loser-female]

I'm sorry that you've gotten hate over having a boyfriend. This is one part of the radfem community that I too, could never get behind (and I'm as misandrist as we come).

I'm a lesbian radfem from a homophobic country and even though I have quite a liberal family, they are liberal for my country's standards, and I don't think I could ever be openly gay here. It's almost surreal to me to see the idea of a political lesbian - sexuality is NOT a choice!

Women's rights, health and safety - my mother, my sister, my female friends and teachers - are and always will be my priority. But if I could evade the stigma that comes with being a lesbian by simply picking to be straight, hand on my heart, I would. But I'm not straight, just like how some radfems aren't attracted to other women. That's just how it is!

It's not exactly "women's liberation"-ish of this community to shame women for finding partners that they love and trust or to assume that straight members of the community don't have the agency to drive their own relationships.

Hi!

Thank you for this message. I cannot comprehend how horrible it is for someone that lives in such counties, but I hope the best to you.

As you probably figured out yes, there is more to the story, and I discovered radical feminism last year, while me and my boyfriend have been together for a decade, we own an house too (I probably should say husband although we aren't legally married, but USians are weird around these things).

To me, I personally got myself a laugh at those anons, but it bothers me that an actual victim of abuse would receive those messages. I'm not even encouraging women to date men, I actually do the opposite(there is a reason why my links are all negative), but it's obvious even to stones that calling people names and wishing them harm is not a way to promote anything. This is why I choose to make people aware of how men are overall terrible partners.

I can get why and understand that my life choices are unpopular, and people are allowed to say "but that's not a good idea". I think that after all "is radical feminism compatible with dating men" is a good question and that there will always be different answers and this is a good thing! But this doesn't mean people are allowed to say "I hope you get abused". I hope no one gets abused. I'm a victim of child mental and emotional abuse and I'd give everything to prevent even a single person to go through this. I'm a feminist because in my utopian world no one gets abused and when it happens there will be community and resources for them. Not people telling them "but I told you so", "but you should know that men are evil" and shit.

That being said I will always support celibates, separatists, febfems and so on. I believe that in our difference there is good and that we can take collectively valuable lessons.

After losing so many years to illness I'm doing the best I can. And doing the best you can involves compromises sometimes. I always pictured myself living alone, but I'm not able to(and it didn't happen anyway). There is so many things my health took from me, and now I'm finally starting to be okay with how things turned out.

About political lesbianism, there were few interesting things going on radblr a couple of weeks ago, it's a really weird and homophobic idea that has nothing to do with women loving women. It's the kind of thing that happens when you hate men more than how much you love women.

I hope your country "will get there" in terms of gay rights soon enough, you deserve to live your life fully in your own truth.

Again, thank you for reaching out to me, but in reality I should have been reaching out to you and reassuring you.

[adflex122]

How to Use Advertising on Social Media to Reach Women

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One word of advice to assist your writing of advertising and marketing advertisements: Men tend to be a lot more likely to appeal to left-brain "logic" terms associated with data, dimensions as well as the aggressive mach variable. Whereas plenty of women very capable of being macho and even competitive, results appear to show that they choose a lot more user-friendly conversation, using terms that bring up "feelings". A man is much more likely to perk up his ears at: "Does your car attract your friends? ": A women on the other hand is much more likely to react while on an empathetic level to: "Do you feel tired? "

Whenever that link is strong enough, and if you are at the same time trying to brand yourself, your event or your business, you certainly will very easily be successful. (A case in point: Canada's Lilith Fair, set about by musician Sarah McLachlan and her friends, and when you get regarded as a quirky chick thing' It is now recognized as a major community yearly occasion, and the majority of women on Canadian Facebook who seem to observe Lilith Fair's basic ads understand immediately what it is all about, simple through the actual words "Lilith" on it's own.

Yet , everybody is actually unique - but data does find a way to side with the "relationship/intuitive/feeling" strategy when it comes to women. The actual moralidad is: Actually be sensitive to your readers' favored communication types and your social media ads may assist your business growth being a lot quicker.

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

WRITERS!!! WRITERS IM BEGGING YOU!!!! STOP MAKING JULIAN LOVE-SICK OVER JADZIA SHE’S BEEN WITH WORF SINCE LAST SEASON AND IT WAS NEVER BROUGHT UP UNTIL THE LAST FEW EPISODES IT’S TAKING AWAY FROM ALL OF THEIR DEVELOPMENT WITH EACH OTHER WHY ARE THE STRAIGHTS LIKE THIS??? DO THEY NOT CARE ABOUT THEIR OWN CHARACTERS DO THEY NOT CONSIDER THAT THERE’S MORE THAN FUCKING ROMANCE TO KEEP BONDS BETWEEN PEOPLE TOGETHER DO THEY ONLY KNOW LIKE... ONE PERSON AND IT’S THEIR SPOUSE????

(on that note I am dreading Ezri/Julian, I know it’s coming and I don’t want it)

[whatwouldmindykdo]

I wrote a little something about coming to terms with my sexuality and thought I’d share it here...

For as long as I can remember I’ve dreamt of my wedding day. As soon as I was able to comprehend the concept of wedding and marriage it became my only goal, my ultimate achievement: I wanted, I needed to get married. This would make me successful and prove my worthiness. I would be happy forever. And so, for years, I’d spend hours imagining the magical day: the dress, of course, and its designer, the venue, the guests, the music, the menu, the bridal party, the decor. And of course, the groom. Because it was always a groom. However, I would find it extremely difficult to imagine him. I could think of qualities I would look for in a partner, but that was it. Looking back now, I think that, more than any of these things, what I dreamt of was being loved and being in love. I was just hoping to find the kind of unconditional love I grew up surrounded by. Not a person but a feeling. An ideal. 

I grew up in what you would probably call a liberal family. My parents are very open-minded, left-wing voters and I grew up having political debates at the dinner table. But it was always about tolerance. Every love is love, they would say. Everyone deserves to be happy, they would say.

This, however, was not true for them growing up. Both my parents grew up in working class families and worked their way into the middle class. As liberal as my parents are, their own parents were rather conservative in thought. 

My father’s parents had grown up on farms. Their own parents, my great-grandparents, lived a life I cannot even begin to comprehend. After the Second World War, as life was changing everywhere, and especially in the countryside, my grandparents left for the city (well, a city, not THE city) to work in factories. They were deeply religious and my father was raised a Catholic. However, he also enjoyed great freedom. He was free to come and go, almost as he wished, to play with his brother and friends. He was free not to work in school, drop out after middle school and go on to work with his father. Which he did, for a while, until he realized he didn’t want to do that his entire life. In other words, he was free to fail, and try again. Would it had been the same thing had he been a girl? We will never know, as he was one of two boys. 

My mother, on the other hand, was not. Her grandparents had been mining workers, as almost everyone in the area. Her own parents had been saved from this life, and pushed to look for work in other industries. They had married young and my mother was the eldest of two. Her parents were heavily involved in political and union movements, pushing for workers’ rights. This gave her an awareness of the political situation and an ideal of what is achievable when you work for it. My mother, however, is also a woman. And as such, her parents expected her to behave a certain way. 

She was expected to be the perfect little girl. Calm, pretty, smiling. Not to take too much space. Do well in school. Be polite. And so my mother tried her best to be this ideal girl. She excelled in school, practiced many sports, and took it upon herself to keep the family together and happy. She eventually went on to work and had to move out to another city, but always close to family as she was sharing an apartment with her aunt. When she found another job closer to her parents, she moved back home. Eventually, she met my father. They dated for a couple of years, but moving in together was unfathomable. Not before marriage. And that’s how my parents ended up married without having ever lived together, something I honestly find quite hard to imagine. Her brother, on the other hand, lived a life closer to my dad’s. He could not roam the streets or drop out of school but he did leave high school without graduating, moving out to work away and never looked back. He introduced many girlfriends to his parents before eventually having a child and getting married, in that order. 

My parents would probably tell you that they raised me and my brother the same way. That not more was expected of me. That I could do the exact same thing he did. And to some extent that is true. We were both expected to excel in school. To be polite and respectful. We were both told we could dream of being whoever we wanted to be. But what had been instilled to my mother was also, somehow, perhaps more sneakily, taught to me. I also had to be the perfect little girl, no excuses. The one that doesn’t move. The one that doesn’t scream or make a scene. The one that helps at home. As Michelle Cliff says in Notes on Speechlessness, ‘I am reminded that a great compliment of my childhood was: ‘she’s such a quiet girl’’.

Instead of rebelling against this system I made it mine: it was my way of taking up space. My way of being remarkable. I was expected to excel at school: I was top of the class. I was expected to be calm and discreet: I would literally never speak. Even today it takes a lot for me to be able to do things I know my parents disapprove. Because I have built myself through others’ approval, and then who am I once they don’t approve? 

What does that have to do with being a lesbian, you may wonder. See, I knew about lesbians. I knew about gays. It was not entirely unknown to me. I saw them on the news, we talked about them at home. But no one in my family was gay, lesbian or part of the LGBTQI+ community, at least not openly. That was not what we did. As much as my family rebelled against capitalistic society, we were expected to conform in certain areas, and this was one. We, as a family, are heterosexuals. And so I unconsciously associated being a good girl to being heterosexual. 

I don’t remember the first time I heard of the LGBTQI+ community, nor do I remember the first time I had a crush on a girl. I am quite sure she was my primary school best friend. I very clearly remember wondering whether I was in love with her or whether that was just how you felt for your best friend (hint: I kinda knew the answer). And so, little me moved on with life. Eventually the feeling wore out, and there was a very intense and dramatic fall out. But that was it, no more questions about my sexuality. Not until I was well into my teenage years, at least. When I made it to university I had began what I would call my transformative journey, learning extensively about feminism, inclusivity and human rights. I was passionate about these subjects and wanted to learn more, and more. I surrounded myself with people who were open-minded, teaching me about these very topics, and, for some of them, part of the LGBTQI+ community. At about this time I began identifying as pansexual or bisexual. I have never been really sure about this. There was no major coming out though. I just stated here and there that I thought love was about a person and their soul, not their gender. Even though I was identifying as pansexual / bisexual, the doubt never really left. I felt ill-at-ease with the identification. Maybe I’m not into labels, I’d think. Maybe. 

Deep down, I knew. I think I’d always known. I would get major crushes on women in films and TV shows. Maybe that’s just identification. I could hardly imagine being in a relationship with a man. Maybe I just haven’t met THE one. I would feel uncomfortable whenever a man flirted with me. Maybe I’m just not into him. 

I just couldn’t imagine being a lesbian. And that’s not to say that I could fathom the very existence of lesbians. I knew they existed, I had a friend as they say. I truly believed that all love is love. What I couldn’t accept was that I was a lesbian. How could I not like men? Good girls like men. Good girls are straight. Good girls get married TO A MAN, and have children WITH A MAN. No way. I must be pansexual. Or bisexual. Not lesbian. 

Funnily enough, the pandemic was a big transitional time for me. I was able to truly connect with myself. Away from the world and the mundanities of everyday life, focusing on what really matters for the first time, I came to a realization. I do not like men. I do not find pleasure in imagining a relationship with a man. This realization was validated by experience. I signed up on a dating app (what??? I know, don’t judge). My immediate reaction was to set up my preferences to women  only (that should have been another hint right?!). However, almost immediately I changed those preferences to everyone (men and women). Why? Because, I thought, by excluding men I might miss out on the one (he’s always somewhere). What if I miss on the opportunity of happily ever after because I renounce to dating half of humanity? And oh boy did I regret that. I was instantly contacted by half the male population of my surroundings (the joys of being on a dating app) and it really felt like it was not for me. I was feeling miserable rather than happy, anxious rather than excited. I switched back to women only and I have felt safer and more myself ever since. 

I guess you could say that I have been feeling rather at peace with who I am. I have come out to a few (selected) friends, in the least dramatic way possible (well, they also are the least dramatic women I know). There remains the question, however, of coming out to family. Because although I have come to term with being a lesbian, I am still scared AF when it comes to coming out to my family and the main reason is: what if I am not lesbian after all (eye roll emoji)? The real reason, though, is that I know that as open-minded as my parents are, a coming out also means a period of adaptation, of understanding what it means exactly. And for someone like me who hates both confrontation and disappointing this feels like a big deal. Selfishly, I wish someone had been there before in my family. That I would not be the first. The trailblazer. The odd one out. The lesbian aunt. But then, I think of my little cousins. And how I could be that person for them. If I allow myself past the fear. 

Thing is, I also truly believe that I will not be able to be fully happy until I come out. I will not be truly happy until I can be who I am fully, knowing that the people who accept it are the ones who love me, for real. But what if that means losing my grandfather? What if it means that people will literally never stop talking about it? 

As much as I have talked about the hardships of coming out and coming to terms with my sexuality, I will also mention that coming to terms with this reality has been a huge relief. It has opened me to a world where love and inclusion are legion. A world where you are accepted for who you truly are. It has given me role models, values and a political awareness that I probably would not have had otherwise. In other words, being lesbian is a blessing because it is who I am, fully. And when I get to be this person, I can finally start to breathe. I can finally start to live. 

My problem lies with mainstream culture and the way it portrays lesbian relationships. I have grown up with the ability of seeing gay couples loving each other, hating each other, flirting, breaking up. Mainstream media and popular culture have very much romanticized gay relationships. What of lesbian relationships then? The reality is completely different. And how could it not be when Instagram still censored the ‘lesbians’ hashtag two weeks ago? When we only have The L Word as a reference? Where on TV and in films have lesbians been given the space and time to actually develop a relationship except in that show? And I’m not even talking about the perfect, happy relationship. Just any relationship. More than 3 minutes of screen time. You’ll have to agree that this is rather recent. 

How different would my life have been if I had seen lesbian couples on TV? How different would my life have been if people had not shied away from lesbian relationships? It is time for pop culture to be inclusive of our people. Little girls need this representation. They need to know that this kind of love exists, is normal, and brings fulfillment. I wish this had been my reality so that I wouldn’t have been mad when Casey from Atypical dumps her boyfriend to explore her relationship with Izzie. Because then perhaps I wouldn’t have been mad at her for doing that. I wouldn’t have been mad at Izzie for being honest. Because that is how deeply rooted my fear of being a lesbian was: I was mad at these two women for having the courage to explore their feelings and be true to themselves, when Casey could have had the perfect ending with Evan. And that is not ok. I need to let go of the idea that the perfect life means being in a heterosexual relationship. Because I know that this is not for me. This will not bring me fulfillment. 

[evolsinner]

⊱┊25

weeks go by and everything was the definition of ‘perfect’. the number of times i sneaked out to meet my sneaky link was endless. i would literally do anything for this human, break the law, anything. he was my everything as i was his.

or so i thought i was.

at lunchtime at school, everything was different. everything was falling to pieces. no part of me was comprehending what was happening except every part of me knew mr killian did not want to have anything to do with me. nothing. nada.

jackshit!

what a jackass!

one moment, he was all over me, and the next,

“it needs to stop, rosé.”

“what?”

“it, needs, to, stop ~ all of it.”

“what are you saying?” i step forward, but he steps back, afraid it’ll attract the attention of the nearby students in the courtyard.

“rosé, none of this is right. we need to stop. i’m sorry.”

it’s like he’s reading lines. none of his words have any depth, any emotion.

“no, i’m sorry because i have no idea where this is coming from.”

he sighs.

“what about everything you told me? what about all the times we~”

“please, rosé,” he has red eyes, probably did an all~nighter, “don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

i shake my head, denying the scene taking existence before me. he seriously cannot do me like this, he just can’t! “you were fine with this just yesterday. what happened? did i do something wrong? did someone find~”

“shoulda never picked you up that night.”

i swear i heard my heart crack.

“forgive me, rosé, it’s best this way,” he turns around.

“c’mon, isaac,” i grip his arm and he pauses. “this..this isn’t funny. you...you can cut the bullshit now,” i laugh; half sadly, half sarcastically. “you got me! haha. wow, so funny! lol.”

he shakes his arm free. “rosé, don’t.”

“isaac…?”

he starts walking away.

“what the fuck?!” i say after him.

jackshit… jackshit again.

“fuck you!” i cry. “fuck you...”

he just keeps walking and walking until he enters the main green doors and they shut after him. i feel horrible. man, i knew i was never good enough for him! guess that’s why they call it a crush, because in the end, you’re just crushed…

-ˋˏ ༻🍷༺ ˎˊ-

i resist talking to larissa or anyone for that matter. i sit down in my seat and he begins teaching as if none of what took place at lunchtime even took place. 15 mins in and not once, not once does this bitch look at me. and that’s a different kind of hurt.

“so, what do you guys think?” he paces back and forth. “do you believe lysistrata convincing the women of greece to retain sexual privileges from their fellow husbands and lovers was a good thing or a bad?”

no one answers. no one cares. normal.

“GOOD,” i respond.

sir stops pacing and immediately looks at me. there’s an innuendo in my response and he’s figured it out in a split second. that being i’m never gonna fucking fuck him ever again!

“miss blackburn,” he scoffs with a small shake of the head, “could you, perhaps, elaborate on that?”

“sure,” i sit up straight in my seat, even though i didn’t study for this class, a while back in a history lesson, they made us watch a stupid movie about this so i remember pretty well what happened. “i believe lysistrata did a wonderful job because not only did she prove to us that what all men really want is to get laid,” i hear a few boys crack up, “but she also ended the peloponnesian war between the greek city~states ~ couldn’t get better than that, sir.”

sir raises his eyebrows, a bit taken aback at my choice of words. “i’d prefer the term sexual intercourse rather than ‘laid’.

“i don’t care what you prefer.”

a few students ‘ooooh’ at my remark.

“hm,” sir pauses before continuing. “well, it wasn’t all good, was it? it did, for instance, inflame the battle between the sexes.”

“no, i don’t think so,” larissa backs me up. “the battle between the sexes was always there. lysistrata shone the light on the inequalities and double standards we women have to face even to this day. like, a man can age and marry whenever he wants to. but when a woman ages, she’s what? considered too old? it’s too late for her?”

“men age like wine... women age like milk...” a girl in the back of the class with pink hair and a blank stare grumbles. “i say men age like the shit traveling down shitty old sewerage pipes.”

“man, fuck you!” some random boy barks.

pink hair girl legit hisses back to him.

“uh, alright..!” sir clears his throat awkwardly.

“this is all bullshit and you know it!” another boy, but this one’s name is adrian. he’s theo’s dealer. “girls want sex just as bad as boys do. this book goes to show that men always do all the hard work while women just sit around, bitching and moping all day, doing fuck all!”

“‘badly’, ‘novel’, ‘playwright’, and ‘nothing’,” sir corrects him, not in the mood for anyone’s shit judging from the look on his face. well, good, because i wasn’t in the mood for heartbreak. guess we’re even now. “and for the love of god, adrian, please watch your tongue.”

“you shut the fuck up, adrian!” i stand up, my seat scrapes against the ground and ends up flipping over. “thinking with your micropenises is the only thing you boys are good at!”

“that’s enough, rosé,” sir instructs.

“i’m being deadass! even at the end of the novel, the messenger had a fucking boner while wanting to arrange so~called ‘peace talks’ when all he really wanted was a good FUCK!”

“that’s fucking ENOUGH!”

the entertained giggles around the class become dead silent. i don’t know if it’s ‘cause sir yelled or the fact that he swore. either way, i glare at him in fury. then i push my desk forward and pick my bag up from underneath it. i aggressively nudge past him and he tosses the whiteboard marker on his desk in suppressed whatever the fuck emotion he’s feeling right now because frankly i really don’t give two shits!

“rosé, wait,” larissa calls out.

“suck a cock, ro!” adrian hollers, tryna get the last word in.

his friends laugh.

“you know what, adrian?! i’ll suck your dad’s! oh yeah, that’s right, you don’t have one!” i scream back.

that was enough to send the class wilding with ‘ooohhs’ and laughter.

“detention for you, adrian!” sir erupts. “and, larissa, get your behind back on that seat!”

as for me, call me a hypocrite, but i now have one thing on my mind. one other person.

[pirate-queen-trafalgar-law]

And all the people say

Written for @in-memoriam-one-piece. Five lives Ace changed forever and the one person who changed his. 

1. Rogue

She had hoped for a girl. A little girl with her father’s wide smile and his eyes, had dreamt about it while sitting by the window and watching the marines interrogate one women after the other. Looking at him, at this little boy  with her eyes and her freckles and her cheeks and her lips and her chin… She couldn’t say she felt bad about him being a boy. He was still beautiful. He was still perfect. This little boy with her face whom she had carried for so long. Her little boy who would never know her. The little boy she would never know. And wasn’t that the worst part of it all? The thing that destroyed her beyond repair. She would never know him. Not really.

Because, see, Portgas D. Rogue was no fool. She knew she was about to die, had known it for all this time, had known since she decided to risk it all for the sake of her baby. Since she bent the rules of reality, did something beyond the realm possibility so her impossible child could life. And here she was hanging on to the last shreds of life just so she could say goodbye.

His face was still red, still dripping with her blood. She hadn’t let Garp take him away to get him washed. She knew she wouldn’t have enough time for him to come back and just for this few seconds she wanted her boy all to herself. Nothing else mattered right now. Nothing except those prexious seconds with her precious boy.

God, before her pregnancy Rogue had never thought much about kids. Sure she thought they were cute but they were also loud and she hadn’t thought they’d be worth the headache. But now her she was witnessing the first seconds of her son’s life. He was crying and it was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. And he himself was so beautiful, so very beautiful.

And while she was lying there, cradling her baby closer, she could feel nothing but gratefulness. She was grateful that she got to witness this-  the first seconds of his life. And while she knew she would miss all the other firsts of his life: His first steps, his first words, his first time on a ship, she could not be more grateful for what she got. For those precious seconds. Even when she craved so much more. Craved so many other things that she would miss. She’d never see him have a family, never watch him grow old, get everything he wanted from this life and more. But she was still grateful because while she would lose so much, she still got his first seconds of life and that was everything.

The life Rogue knew was no more. It was over and while she wished she could start this new life with her son, she knew their paths were meant to be separate. Her life was over while his was just beginning. Rogue thought it fitting: her last seconds of life were the first of his. She couldn’t protect him anymore but she was glad that at the very least she had managed to give him this first taste of life.

And she didn’t know if Garp would keep his promise. If he would keep their- her- son safe but in this moment there was nothing she wanted more than him- her son- have his whole life ahead of him: Not even her own life. Because she knew this was not the end. No, this was his beginning.

With the last shred of energy that she had in her body she managed to sit up and slowly press her lips to his ear.

“We will meet again, I promise, Ace”

Portgas D. Rogue died with a smile on her face and holding on to the thought of meeting her son again in the afterlife. Portgas D. Rogue didn’t know that this day would come sooner than she had anticipated, so much sooner.

____________________

2. Garp

Monkey D. Garp was a marine. He was a proud man who would do about anything for the marines. But Garp was also a man of honor though few would believe it. And so he honored his promise to that- no good son of a- to that man. A part of him contemplated forsaking his promise and taking the child straight to headquarters. But looking at this little tiny baby that fit in just one of his hands, Garp couldn’t- it was just a baby. He had done no crimes, no wrong. He just… existed and not even that was his fault. How could he- how could anyone- blame  this little thing for existing? No, Garp decided, he would at the very least hide the little boy until he was old enough to take care of himself and that was it.

But that was not it.

When Garp first started in the marines his supervisor told him point black that while he was a strong fighter, he lacked cunningness, basic intelligence and he wasn’t able to lie to save his life. It was funny how he remembered that while he stood before the fleet admiral and the three admirals- the four strongest, most important people in the marines- explaining to them that Baterilla had been nothing but a false lead. No, Roger did not have a child, the Cipher Pol had been wrong. He almost could’ve laughed at their relieved expressions. These people were his friends and family people he had fought along side for years now and he had just lied straight to their faces.

Looking at the little boy now, stepping closer to him on wobbling little- adorable, cute- legs he couldn’t say he regretted it. Garp had made many decisions in his life and all of them had been made in the name of justice. But just this once Garp found himself bending to someone else, to this little boy that wasn’t even his own.

And suddenly there was a new dream. Where he once thought the day he would finally be rid of Roger’s little brat couldn’t come soon enough another thought had emerged. The picture of a beaming young man in a marine uniform standing along side his grandfather.

And suddenly the little brat was not Roger’s son anymore. He was a boy who would soon fight next to Garp and make the marines proud.

Garp wondered when Rogers brat had stopped being Rogers brat and become his brat instead.

And Ace had been just that to the very end- his little brat. Even when he declared his intention to set sail shadow and become a pirate, to outgrow his father’s. Even when he had turned down the offer to become a Shichibukai, instead joining up with the Whitebeards. Even when he ended up sitting next to Garp on that execution platform that was meant to be where Ace’s life would end.

Garp had never felt as relieved as he did in the moment Ace was finally free of his shackles and he had never known despair quiet as deep as in the moment Ace fell to his knees with a glowing red fist in his chest.

 ____________________

3. Dadan

Dadan was a coward. She had always known that but it wasn’t like she cared. That was how life worked. You either go and save yourself or, -well, you get yourself killed. She was never too good with words either.

So objectively she was the last person who should be allowed to raise a child. She was selfish and violent and a lousy no good criminal- for crying out loud. So no, Garp-san, I cannot raise this fucking-.

And yet here she was with a baby on her back. A baby that wasn’t just any fucking baby either, no,  it was the son of the pirate king. Because of course it was. And worst of all that good for nothing pirate king was dead so she couldn’t even get child support from him. Because obviously that was how Dadan’s life worked. Sometimes Dadan wondered why she hadn’t gone straight to the marines telling them all about this child. There was no way they would hunt her down when she gave them such top secret information. She quickly dismissed the thought as illogical. What kind of marine soldier would believe her anyway?

Her dismissal of the idea had nothing to do with how cute and tiny little Ace looked when he looked up at her with his big eyes. Even as a baby he was never really smiling. What he was doing couldn’t be called anything but a smirk. And she wouldn’t admit it even on her death bed, it was cuter than everything else she had ever seen in her life.

And years later the same smirk was still on that little shits lips. At this point he was uncontrollable, practically an animal, not that she had ever expected anything else from him. He was reckless and selfish and brooding- and brave and smart and confident- and if one of her men had pulled half the shit he did she would’ve murdered them long ago. He was a danger to all of them and especially to her. God, she really hated that little boy. She really should hate him. But she really didn’t.

Just now watching him stand his ground against Bluejam,- the most notorious pirate on the island and refusing to run away. God, -she could’ve smacked him. So for the first time in her entire life Dadan decided she was not going to run away, instead she was going to fight alongside the little brat with fire surrounding them. Of course it had nothing to do with her caring for him, not at all. But Garp would murder her if something happened to him. It had nothing to do with the fact that she could not imagine never seeing his smirking little face again. Before she started fighting she looked at Ace and told him:

“One day you going to get yourself killed, Ace”

Years later when she learned that he had eaten the fire fruit she couldn’t help but laugh (and feel a twinge of pride for her -little all grown up- brat making a mess of things and leaving his mark on that big world). It would’ve been very convenient the night of the fire, she thought, but of course he would only get it now. Because imagine him making her life a little easier. She decided to smack him for it when she saw him next, that good for nothing brat. Little did she know that she would never get the chance to.

She was holding the newspaper and couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing. Dadan didn’t know pain could feel like this. All the wounds she had gotten in the fire, fighting Bluejam were nothing compared to what that picture of his dead body blasted on the front page was doing to her. In that moment all she could think was that no mother should live to see her son dying before she did.

 ____________________

4. Sabo

Sabo didn’t know what to think of the boy if he was being honest. In the two days since he had teamed up with him they had been attacked by three different people living in the gray terminal. In the two weeks Sabo had lived on his own before he had met the boy he had been attacked… by absolutely nobody.

The boy just didn’t seem to know when enough was enough. Trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went and if Sabo was being honest he wasn’t sure why he was still meeting up with him. Sure at the beginning it had seemed like a good idea. Sabo was just a kid surrounded by dangerous criminals, criminals he couldn’t beat on his own. And then there was this other kid his age who was in the same situation. Teaming up was just the most logical thing to do.

Turned out the kid was even more dangerous than eighty percent of the other people living in the gray terminal. Sabo couldn’t decide if he was lucky the boy was his ally or not. Well, at least he got by. And even though the boy was never smiling or really loving or anything Sabo had wished for while living at ho- no, that place was not his home, would never be his home-  that place. He still felt so refreshed.

Sabo was used to lying, was used to pretending to be someone he wasn’t to get by so he wouldn’t be scorned  for who he really was. He hadn’t been ready for someone like Ace. Someone who was so unabashedly himself, with no excuses, no fear. It didn’t matter who you were or what you did, Ace would stand up for himself, always. Even if it wasn’t necessary. And somehow Sabo found himself envying this, envying him.

All this time that Sabo had spent in that gigantic dump had been passed with his head kept down, with him not trying to bring any attention to himself. If he was being honest it wasn’t much different than living in high town. He was still just pretending. He was still not free.

But Ace was.

Ace did things without thinking them trough. He was brave and strong and nobody messed with him- not if they knew what was good for them. And weirdly enough, Sabo found himself looking up to him. Sure Ace was little on the slow side but that was what Sabo was there for. What he could contribute in their little team. And Sabo wished he could be like Ace. Just as free and wild and brave and strong.

Ace always got them into trouble but Sabo found himself not caring anymore. So what if he did? They always made it out anyway. Ace would get them out of it because somehow Ace had become something larger than life itself to Sabo.

He was the first person Sabo had really talked to since he had ran away. Ace had been his first friend, his first ally, his first glimpse at real freedom. And more important, Ace had been the first person to accept him for who he really was without judging him or forcing him to feel ashamed for being different.

It was a different kind of freedom, a freedom Sabo had never known.

One day, just like that- Sabo couldn’t really tell when exactly it happened- they were a notorious team. Known all over the gray terminal. Ace was the brawn and Sabo was the brain. And Sabo wasn’t scared about something bad happening anymore because with Ace by his side they were safe. Nothing could ever hurt Ace. Nothing could beat him, nothing could stop him, no, he would always come back. And with Sabo by his side, Sabo who could be reasonable from time to time, nothing could stop them. Grinning up to him with the latest treasure they had stolen in his hand Sabo knew they were unstoppable together.

And finally Sabo learned to set his wild side free. He learned how to be reckless, how to be strong and brave and a little crazy. It was something that followed him through life, be it in the gray terminal or many years later in the revolutionary army. Hell, he was best known for being a reckless idiot if you asked his colleagues. He wouldn’t change it for the world, though. Because what was a bigger freedom than just being unabashedly himself?

But by a horrible twist of faith instead of setting the boy that had finally freed him, free, he had somehow forgotten him instead. Had forgotten, that damn unforgettable boy who had changed his life. Forgotten his brother, his first friend and, in some ways, his savior. So while Ace had been in shackles, Sabo had been off in the world. Only finding the missing puzzle piece when it was already too late. Not being able to help Ace like he had helped Sabo, once upon a time.

 ____________________

5. Whitebeard

One would expect after having so many children, the thrill of a new one would eventually die down. But it didn’t. Especially not with his newest son on his hands. Though he wasn’t his son- yet. But Whitebeard knew it was only a matter of time until that would change.

His newest son was all fire and not just because of his devil fruit. Everything about him was fire. His spirit, his way of talking, his way of living, of fighting, just everything about him. But there was something more behind that.

Whitebeard had spent many years out on the sea so he considered himself as someone who had seen everything the ocean had to offer. And he just knew there was something more about the boy. There was an underlying sadness and insecurity -a darkness- that he desperately tried to hide. And Whitebeard had to give it to him: for the most part he was successful. But just not with him.

Maybe that was exactly why he had wanted him to be a part of his family, Whitebeard always had a weakness for outsiders, for the ones who were just a little bit broken. He brought them all together, turning them into one big- at times dysfunctional- family. A family that was always honest with each other, knew everything about each other and stayed together despite anything. And Whitebeard wanted that for Ace. Wanted him to safely share his secrets with all of them one day. But Whitebeard also knew that he could not push the boy since that would scare him off instead.

So he decided to let the brat be. At least for the time being. Let him do as he wanted, let him fight and let him get to know his new family on his own terms.

And surprisingly it worked. Soon enough Ace was not only a part of their crew but also a part of their family. Whitebeard couldn’t say that he was particularly surprised about that turn of events. He had wanted him as one of his sons from the very beginning after all.

So the day  Ace finally searched him out to tell him what had been torturing all this time came. Whitebeard couldn’t describe how happy that made him. Because Ace was finally accepting his place on their side. As one of them. What had him worried though was the look on his sons face when he told Whitebeard about his heritage.

And if Whitebeard was honest even though a lot of things about Ace had not surprised the Yonko in the slightest, he had to admit that one did. The only thing that was more surprising to him was how Ace expected him to kick him out of the crew just for who his father was.

Roger had been his rival, but Ace was still his nakama, a part of his chosen family, his son and Whitebeard took care of his own.

The relief on his sons face made him smile but that smile was soon dying on his lips with Aces next request.

“You cannot tell anyone, oyjai. They’ll hate me”

It hurt Whitebeard to see that his son still doubted how much his family loved him. Doubted them enough to ask for something like that.

“We’re family. Family doesn’t keep secrets from one another” he had told him firmly. But watching the desperate look on his sons face was his undoing. Edward Newgate loved his family more than anything else in the world and he hated the idea of keeping anything from them but he found himself complying to Aces demands and kept quiet about the connection between his newest son and the late pirate king. Whitebeard had no secrets from his family but in this one case he found himself respecting Ace’s wish. He didn’t like it but he was doing it for Ace.

In the end all the hiding had done nothing. The marines had still found out and now there was no longer any secrets to keep. But there was also no Ace anymore.    

 ____________________

+1 Luffy

Luffy was seven years old and the biggest crybaby Ace had ever met. Not that he had met many children if he was honest. The only child beside himself he knew was Sabo. And Sabo was the farthest thing from a crybaby. Even when he and Sabo had been seven they had never cried as much as Luffy did. Moreover Luffy was dumb. Ace had met a lot of idiotic people but Luffy surly took the cake. And also his powers were stupid.

Luffy was seven years old and he looked at Ace like he was the sun. And Ace had never loved anyone more than he loved his little brother.

For as long as Ace lived, it had been him against the world. Him proving that he was not his father. But that had changed when Luffy came into his life. Now his life wasn’t about proofing anything. Now Luffy was his life. Luffy who gave him about twenty heart attacks a day and answered his yelling with an simple “oops”.

Ace knew he was a burden to everyone in his life. Everyone but one. For Luffy he was anything but a burden because Luffy needed him. Luffy needed his big brother to take care of him because he was stupid and reckless and naïve. Luffy needed Ace to fish him out of the water when he had fallen in. Needed him at night when he couldn’t sleep and wanted to talk the whole night away. Luffy needed him to comfort him when he felt all alone. Luff needed him to chase the loneliness away.

When Ace looked at Luffy and he knew without a doubt that his little brother was not only in awe of him but also loved him deeply. He saw it when he brought Luffy his favorite kind of meat to eat, saw it when he defeated another one of the large forest animals and he saw it when he stopped shitty gramps from hitting his little brother.

The only love that was ever deeper than Luffy’s love for him was the love Ace had for his little brother.

The day Ace set sail had been the worst and simultaneously best day of his life. On one side he could finally show the world what he was made of. Proving to them (and himself) that he was not just a monster with dirty blood in him.

At the same time the thought of his little brother all alone scared him more than anything else ever could. Ace worried about Luffy falling into the water, getting eaten and every other horror scenario he could think of in his overprotective big brother mode. It wasn’t like it was far-fetched. All of those things had happened. More than once.  But there was more, he wasn’t just worried about his little brother. The thought of being without him hurt. But Ace knew it’ll be alright, one day out at sea when he had made a name for himself they would met again and then he’d get to be the big brother again.

The worry about his little brother never quiet left him though. Luffy was always on his mind. When he began to form his own crew, when he greeted red hair and even when he finally settled down with the Whitebeard pirates. So when Ace finally saw his brothers first wanted poster, he had been the happiest man in the world. His little brother was out there making a name for himself already- he was safe and fine- and no Marco he was not crying what are you even talking about.

But most of all it made Ace proud. He had taken care of Luffy and somewhat raised him. And now he was proud of the man his brother had become and he could not wait to meet him again.

So when he heard that his brother was on his way to Alabasta he could not help himself. He had to seek him out.

Ace was happy to see that Luffy had not changed at all. He may have been a little taller and perhaps a little stronger but he was still his dumb little brother. His little brother who trusted Ace to protect, to keep him save. To keep his new crew save. And Ace did just that. If shitty gramps who was a vice admiral and one of the strongest men Ace had ever met couldn’t get him, Ace would make sure that some lowly captain wouldn’t touch his little brother either.

Ace met Luffy’s crew and although he had to leave way too soon he was glad to know he left Luffy in safe hands. And this time he could even make sure his brother had an easier time finding him when he was in trouble (which would be in no time knowing Luffy). Sailing away from the little lamb ship his brother was on made Ace heart clinch but he knew they would be able to see each other again soon and really talk. But first he had to prove that nobody messed with his family and got away with it. First he had to take care of Teach and make sure Thatchs’ death was avenged.

And like Ace predicted he and his little brother saw each other again.

Even though he wished they hadn’t. Ace was a failure who couldn’t even take revenge for his fallen comrade and now he had gone and forced his little cry baby brother to came to save his worthless life. Forced him to come to these terrible places filled with terrible people who were out for his blood. Made Luffy risk his own life for him. And Luffy did risk his life, fought his way through all those marines, beating all the odds, surpassing every expectation. And to everyone’s surprise Luffy managed. He managed to free Ace of his handcuffs and now Ace could go and protect Luffy again just like he always had, just like he should. All was good in the world again.

Except it wasn’t.

There was a war going on around them and blood was being spilled right and left. Ace was angry about those lost lives, lost because of him. But looking at his little brother Ace knew that despite being no good he was loved and wanted. Not only by Luffy but by his whole crew and the rest of his family. And looking at Luffy who still looked at him like Ace was the best thing he had ever known, Ace knew everything was going to be alright.

But it wasn’t.

Because he was stupid and reckless and couldn’t keep a clear head and all he could see was the red first coming down on his brother and his body just reacted. He didn’t feel the impact, didn’t feel the heat when the fist went through his chest. He felt nothing but a deep feeling of gratitude and peace in the knowledge that he had managed to stop the blow before it could reach Luffy.

Because even though Luffy had looked at him like he was the sun the truth was it was Luffy who was the sun. If there was no Luffy, there was no light, there were no smiles and no happiness to be found in this world.

Looking up at his little brother’s face he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. His entire life he had fought the whole world, never backed down from a fight but none of that mattered now. Ace would easily let the world win as long as his brother was safe. And despite the look of complete disbelief and terror on his brother’s face, Ace knew was Luffy was going to be fine.

And in the end nothing else mattered to Ace.

___________________

Thank you for reading! A little late but I hope you like it. If you find any mistakes please let me now. Special thanks to @monkey-d-ace

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations - ch2

Ok, I’m already regretting setting myself the art challenge.  It’s hard.  Huge kudos to all you artists out there.  Still, the clue for me should have been in the word ‘challenge’.  No, I don’t know why Alan’s hand is a different colour to the rest of him and shading features is pretty much impossible.  Maybe by the end of the fic I’ll have got the hang of it.  I might have to pick and easier idea for the next chapter

Huge thanks to @willow-salix​ for all the read throughs and pointers.

Earlier parts: One

Chapter Two

The early light of dawn was just visible around the curtain edges in the lounge.  The reflected light off the large screen projection illuminated the figures staring avidly at the screen with a soft blue glow.  The occasion had been deemed worthy of setting up the large cinematic screen meaning the whole glittering spectacle filled nearly a whole wall of the generously proportioned room.

 Jeff sat back in an aged leather armchair shipped specially from Kansas.  The form of it had moulded to his body by the passage of many years although he rarely had time to relax in it now.  Across the room Virgil and John, both on vacation from university, book-ended the sofa; a sleek designer affair that manged to combine both style and comfort.  Both looked sleepy and a little unfocussed.  Virgil had never been a fan of early mornings and it was entirely possible that John hadn’t actually made it to bed yet if he had spent the night engrossed in the stars.  His youngest son, still a child and growing into his talents, sat on the floor leaning back against the sofa rather than sitting on the chair itself.  In Alan’s hands was a cup of popcorn chosen especially for the cinematic treat.  He sat there in rapt awe, barely blinking as he popped piece after piece of white fluff into his mouth.  Jeff nursed his own mug of inky black coffee.  The aroma of the beans filling the space around him with a rich warmth.

 At last the moment they had been waiting for arrived.  Team USA marched into shot; processing around a stadium half a world and many time zones away.  Ranks of the chosen few strode across the screen in all their athletic glory.  The athletes were bedecked in pristine white trousers and shirts topped with navy blue blazers.  Red trim to the lapels completed the patriotic ensemble.   The young men and women chosen to represent their country trailed behind the flag bearer, their lines arranged with military precision. Jeff rather thought the effect was spoiled by the individuals walking out of step with each other and waving to the crowd in the surrounding stadium.  It jarred with his Air Force history which much preferred the uniformity of troops marching smartly in time.

 A squeal broke through his internal criticism of the scene.

 “There he is! There he is!”

 Alan’s voice, still high pitched in its youth, filled the space with an exuberant joy. The cup of popcorn was tilting dangerously towards the floor as the youngest of five spotted his next in line.

 The fourth Tracy son crossed the screen and disappeared out of sight in a matter of seconds and Jeff was forced to pause, rewind and replay the footage several times before Alan had got his fill of the sight.  

Gordon looked happy.  Happier than he had done for weeks.  Happy didn’t do justice to the beaming, grinning individual with sandy blonde hair slightly tinted by chlorine who strode between his fellow countrymen and women. He seemed to bounce along, riding the waves of the atmosphere that swirled around the stadium.  

 Jeff had seen little of his second youngest son lately despite technically living in the same house.  Both had demanding schedules; one filled with work and business meetings, the other filled with school and pool training.  The moment school had finished Gordon had been whisked away to the pre-games training camp, missing both his high school graduation ceremony and the senior prom. The young man on the screen was almost a stranger and definitely an enigma to him.

 Jeff’s eldest three sons were of a mind-set he could understand.  They were studious, clever, indeed highly gifted in their chosen fields.  He had been immensely proud when Scott had been accepted to Yale and then followed him down his own career path into the Air Force.  The young man was making quite a name for himself in the service if the regular updates sent through by old colleagues were to be believed; he had already been promoted to First Lieutenant and it looked like he would soon be a Captain.  Virgil excelled in engineering but also retained a quiet compassion that allowed him to see the world as more than just a set of variables and constants to be manipulated.  John had followed him to the stars and Jeff had no doubt that his quietest son could follow him out of Earth’s atmosphere and beyond just a theoretical study of space travel if he so desired.

 Gordon was evidently gifted too but in a direction he couldn’t quite comprehend. Physical ability was a facet he appreciated and even John had submitted to his requirement for regular structured exercise.  But a strong body needed to be a vessel for a keen mind and Gordon just hadn’t shown any particular leanings towards an academic field.

 He was as proud as any father could be that a son of his had reached the Olympics and at such a young age but he still worried for his son’s future prospects.    

 A sigh from the floor broke through his contemplations.

 “I wish we could have been there for the opening ceremony.”

 “Now Alan, we’ve been through this.  Gordon’s heats don’t start for another week.  I’ve got us tickets to his events and we will be there to see him compete in person but I just cannot spare the time to take you out there for the whole duration of the Games.”

 “But Virgil could have taken me.  Or John.” The voice was a petulant whine now.

 “Virgil and John might be on summer break but they both still have work to do.  The last thing either of them need is to be responsible for you at the biggest international sporting event in the world. Watching sport has never been your thing before.  It’s normally hard enough to prise you away from those video games you play.”

 Both Virgil and John looked infinitely relieved that neither of them was expected to be responsible for an excitable young teenager in a foreign country.  It was bad enough taking him bowling or to the cinema. Alan seemed to be well and truly gripped by Olympic fever, hence them all watching the live coverage of the opening ceremony at some hideous time of the morning rather than watching a recording at a more socially acceptable hour.  It seemed to mean so much to their youngest brother to get the chance to watch out for Gordon live that they hadn’t had the heart to refuse.  It was just as well Gordon had had his few seconds of glory on screen otherwise Alan would have been beyond devastated not to have seen him.  

 “But it’s the Olympics.  And it’s Gordon.”  As if this explained everything.

 “And you will get to see Gordon compete in every race he is in when we fly out next week. Even Scott has managed to arrange some leave so he can join us.  Gordon will be well supported.”

 Alan huffed slightly in response but went back to staring at the screen, the popcorn once again being shovelled in as figures from all nations strode across in a seemingly never ending stream of competitors.

 Once it became clear that Team USA would not be making another appearance Virgil and John sloped off.  Virgil to reclaim his bed, John to find his for the first time that sleep cycle having reverted to a near nocturnal pattern without classes to drag him away from his beloved stars.  Both had willingly joined the spectators in the lounge but the time difference left a lot to be desired and both were exhausted after a long and difficult semester. Jeff followed after but for him the destination was to work rather than bed.  Alan was soon left to watch the conclusion of the carefully choreographed spectacle alone.

 xoxoxox

 Virgil padded towards the kitchen, he socks making no sound on the hardwood floor. He could almost forget that there was anyone else in the apartment.  He had barely seen his brothers all day and Jeff was still at the office.  John had spent much of the day sleeping after grumbling that the city skies really hadn’t been worth staying up for.  He assumed Alan was engrossing in another gaming session. Part of him wondered if he ought to have a word with their dad; his youngest brother seemed to spend an unhealthy amount of time hooked up to a console.

 He paused at Alan’s door, taking a moment to take in the view through the crack. Rather than being strapped into a VR headset as expected, Alan was instead sprawled on his bed.  A screen was propped up on his knees.  The murmured one sided conversation suggested a video call rather than another game.  He wasn’t normally one to eavesdrop but curiosity overcame Virgil as he wondered who on earth Alan could be talking to.  He didn’t talk about any particular school friends and beyond Grandma they had no family to speak of.  He stayed to one side of the doorway out of sight and listened.  If he stood absolutely still he could just about pick up the other voice on the line.

 “The stadium looked huge.  What was it like?  Did you get some photos for me?”

 “Yeah, it’s massive.  Kinda makes be glad I’m not in the track and field events.  No photos though, we couldn’t take cameras in to the opening ceremony.  We didn’t even get to see the show afterwards, just lots of waiting around to go in then straight back to the Village after.  You probably saw more than I did.”

 Gordon then. He figured it must already be the next morning for their absent athlete.

 “Aww. We saw you, y’know.  Who was the cute blonde you were next to?”

 Virgil smirked.  For all he might bounce like an excited puppy Alan was evidently growing up and the hormones were kicking up.

 “Which one? Amber the high jumper or Brad the hockey player?”

 “Amber, I’ll leave Brad to you.  Think you can introduce me when we’re over there?”

 “No chance. Firstly, she already has a long term boyfriend.  And secondly, you’re about five years too young for that sort of stuff.”

 “Hey, I’m not that young.  Not that you’d think it the way things go round here.  There’s something going on and Dad won’t tell me about it.  Since John and Virgil got back Dad keeps having meetings with them in the study.”

 “Rather them than me.  You know as well as I do the study only means bad news.”

 “I don’t think so.  And since when has John ever been chewed out over anything.  It’s not like he ever missed curfew or turned in a bad report card. I don’t know what’s going on but this place is full of secrets.  They all just treat me as a kid though, like I wouldn’t understand.”

 “Try not to worry about it Al.  Why don’t you get John to help you finish that sim you were coding?”

 “Maybe. He just seems so busy though.”

 “Look, I’ve got to go, I’ve got training soon.  I’ll try and call same time tomorrow if that works for you.”

 “Sure.”

 “Don’t forget to eat your vegetables and clean your teeth.”

 “Yes Mom. Now don’t you need to go put some water wings on.”

 “Cheeky brat. Speak to you tomorrow.  Bye.”

 “Bye Gordo.”

 Virgil watched as the screen was put to one side, the smile sliding off of Alan’s face, before continued his journey to the kitchen to grab a drink.  That brief conversation with Gordon was more words than he had heard out of his youngest sibling in one go since he had arrived back home.  He had put it down to sullen teenage moods but evidently Alan could be quite chatty when he wanted to.

 Alan was clearly missing Gordon.  The youngest two had always been close.  Despite Gordon technically being closer in age to John than Alan the sibling friendship pairings hadn’t worked out that way.  Virgil realised how little he knew about the youngest pair beyond Gordon’s swimming.  Since when had Alan been able to code simulations? And what sort of simulations?

 He shrugged it off as a conundrum for another day.  They would be flying out to the Olympics in just a few days and he wanted to get a project plan sent off to his supervisor before that happened.  The meetings with Jeff, which Alan had evidently picked up on, had changed the direction of his post-grad project and he wanted to get the revisions in before travelling.  Bonding time could happen once the work was completed.

[phoebehalliwell]

Can you rank the Charmed Ones from your favorite to your least favorite?

oh boy

okay get ready for some hella long chronology of my life or whatever because i cannot just answer this question in a list. to begin:

era one: childhood

1. phoebe

2. paige

3. piper

4. prue

okay so i never technically like watched charmed proper as a kid as i was like born in the year 2000 but it was just,, always on. like my cousins loved it and talked about it a lot, my parents watched it, and reruns would play on cable in the afternoon after school, so i didn’t like watch it in order or like,, comprehend the plot and stuff, i was just having a witchy good time.

phoebe earned my favorite because she was the funny, cool one with the killer fashion sense (to an eight year old or whatever), but she never did it by pretending to be someone else. she was always true to herself and refused to take other people’s bullshit. she was a classic 90′s girl feminist, and personally, i thought she was a great role model growing up, teaching me that i don’t have to be sidelined by the boys, i can stand up and kick ass and still be classically feminine, which i think really shaped a lot of who i was as a kid.

last was prue because she was the straight man, she was the one to hold her sisters back (especially phoebe) and remind them of the responsibilities and dangers of the world. she was the one who saw it as it is, not as it could be, and as and eight year old i was like fuck that shit! responsibility? accountability? i don’t know her. i definitely viewed her as a representation of the limitations and bitterness of the world.

era two: teens

1. piper

2. phoebe

3. paige

4. prue

i found charmed on netflix the first summer of middle school and subsequently watched it every summer of middle school after that. this time, i was watching it in order, and remember episode that i had seen was i was little and realizing how absolutely batshit out of order it was the first time i was it.

piper became my favorite because she became the one i identified with the most, especially s4 onward. she was tough, and swore a lot, she got shit done, but she was still the glue, the peacekeeper, and she loved her family (& friends if they ever bothered to give her any) more than anything. she was great for that phase in middle school / high school everyone (?) goes through where they feel like they’ve got the whole weight of their future on their shoulders and every single move they make has repercussions and oh jesus what am i doing with my life because, for me, piper really embodied the strength it took to make it through. she suffered and she fought and she lost so much and there were points where she felt like she had fucked up beyond return, but she always made it back, she always kept fighting, and she got her happy ending, she got to live happily ever after, and for me, that was crucial.

prue, yet again, landed in my least favorite because she represented the flip side of this coin. she fought and she sacrificed and she worked so hard and she lost. prue didn’t die happy, and i hated that, so she was my least favorite character.

era three: adulthood (in the loosest terms possible)

1. prue

2. piper

3. paige

4. phoebe

so i stared college in twenty eighteen and as a film major there are a whole bunch of lower div courses you can take and one of them is tv studies. personally, i don’t think enough respect is put on tv as a cinematic art form, but also went we went around to say our favorite tv shows i did say riverdale so yknow maybe i’m not the best judge. for our term paper we had to pick a show and analyze it in respects to the course. i chose charmed, a show that i had not seen in about three years at the time, and began a rewatch. in the span of this rewatch i also started my next gen fic and this very blog.

here prue takes the lead because i feel like i have to pay penance for all those years of hating her. her only crime was being a bitch (read: in charge, content on her own, protective of her sisters from shitty men, a breadwinner, following her dreams), and in a man’s world (fuck you brad kern) that is very much punishable by death. in my essay i did a lot more research than i previously had into the behind the scenes drama in charmed and quite frankly i do think the shannen/alyssa drama was a smear campaign to distract from the uprooting of the shows core value in favor of a more flashy “youth-driven” dynamic. since i’m now like an adult who has to like buy my own groceries and shit (perishable good perish too fast and i hate it!!), i definitely respect her anal retentive ways that i hated so much as a kid. she’s willing the carry the weight that not many others can handle, and while i don’t remotely relate, i respect her a lot.

phoebe fell to dead last in the most recent rewatch because (seasons 4 - 8) she felt such like a character written by men that i really ending up hating a lot of her decisions. season seven in my opinion was her worst, the whole baby mania she was under felt like such a plot contrived by men. like, phoebe was twenty nine and so consumed by her biological clock running out that she brewed potions to force premonitions to have some future child i hated it. the carefree, loving, inspirational, heartwarming phoebe that i remembered inspiring me so much just became a caricature of how sexist men imagine women to be. our tiny little female brains can’t even process the idea of not having children before you’re 30 we simply shut down and forget every lesson we’ve ever learned so we can pop a baby out. and i hate “the bare witch project” she rides a horse naked and ends sexism like we know the writers just wanted alyssa milano naked. the more i watch phoebe’s character the more she feels like and insult than the feminist that inspired me when i was younger.

oof well that was a lot hope i answered your question!!!

[wolfpawn]

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary -  Paige does an interview at the BBC with a host who very much wishes to see if she can pry information from Paige regarding her relationship with Tom but Paige is aware of such.

Tag, @wolfsmom1 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @nonsensicalobsessions@damalseer   @standing-onthe-edge

anyone else who wishes to be added to the tags, just ask :)

Paige tried to settle her nerves. She had done so many interviews before, this would be no different. Yes, they could mention Tom, in fact, she was sure they would, but she had prepared herself for almost anything they could throw at her. Though most of the time, her work in media had been to do with her books, something she was well versed on, she decided to study her new topic of conversation that she was certain she would have in Tom. She read his interviews, she recalled his mother's comments, his conversations with her on different matters and compiled what would be sure-to-be asked questions and appropriate answers that she would need to know to keep up the pretence of a relationship with the actor.

She smiled as the radio station manager showed her where to sit in the studio and offered her some water. “Please, if it’s no bother.”

“Of course.”

She looked at the headset in front of her and took a deep breath before readying herself more.

“Ms Winters?” She looked to the side to see the radio host, Davina Curren looking at her. “Hello, thank you for your time. I can imagine you are a busy woman.”

“Please, just Paige. I am more than happy to oblige. I haven’t been here in over two years. You were in the evening slot then, weren’t you? I remember I used to listen to you on the Underground on the way home from different things. I loved your piece on Aristotle you discussed with the College Professor from London.”

Davina’s face became more animated on hearing Paige knew her work. “Wow, thank you. Yes, that was an interesting piece. Well, as Mike, the manager here would have told you, we will discuss mostly your work and if there is time at the end, some other bits and pieces.”

“Yes, he said. We’ll see what we get through.” She smiled politely.

“Well, we start in three so we will get ready now.” Davina indicated for her to put on her headphones before sitting in her own seat and doing the same. “You put the volume to a level that suits and please remember to speak clearly into the microphone, you can adjust it as required.”

“Okay.” Paige did so to allow her close to the microphone with comfort.

When the light flashed for thirty seconds, she readied herself.

“Can you hear me?” Davina checked.

“I can indeed.”

“Perfect, let’s begin.” The light ceased flashing and turned on fully. “Good morning, Britain, Davina Curren here with you again on this lovely Thursday morning, and my guest today is a woman that has been in a few of the celebrity headlines of late but whose name has been gracing the more prestigious world of literature for the better part of the last decade, Britain's very own Paige Winters, author of many pieces but most known for ‘Rumour Has It’, the Costa book of the year in 2016. Paige thank you for joining us in the studio here today.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“So, we will start at the beginning, what got you into writing?”

“Well, there’s no straight forward answer to that.”

“Surely you had some inkling, even in school?”

“Interestingly, when I was doing my GCSEs, I had this teacher who literally told me I had no right to be doing English. I could not comprehend the work and if I passed, it would be a miracle.”

“Really?”

“No, honestly. She had no faith in me. Thankfully, she retired that summer and the most incredible teacher, Benjamin Shakespeare, no relation to the playwright we checked, came in to fill the void and honestly, I would not be in this profession today had he not sat me down one day and talked to me about why I wanted to keep on English with such mediocre grades. Being honest, I loved English, I loved literature, but that other teacher drained my love of it but on her retirement, I hoped I could regain my love for it. Thankfully, he was able to see I had some potential and allowed me to remain in his class.”

“And that was it?”

“Sort of. I did a piece the summer before and sent it into a competition. I didn't think anything of it, I thought at the time I didn't send it to the right place or it was not good enough, in fact, I did and on the 8th of February, 2005, Blue Peter published my story as part of their short stories book. I knew then that I wanted to write and see my name on the cover of books.”

“That's amazing.”

“Yes, I still have the original Blue Peter book I was sent for writing a contribution to it, my mum has it safe at their house.”

“So you have a Blue Peter badge too.”

“Yes, I do. It is in my jewellery box to this day.”

“That's lovely. So, can I ask, your books, they're not conventional love stories, are they?”

“I personally don't class them as romance if I'm honest. They are stories that have romance in them, yes, it's true, but that is merely a part of it, not the entire basis of the story.” Paige explained.

“Is that how you see life in general?”

“Well, yes. Romance is not the reason to live but an enhancement of the act of living, in my opinion.”

“And your characters are always strong women.”

“Every woman has her own strength, it's not always conventional muscles and power strength. Strength is different things to different people. A person who is kind, even when others are not kind to them. Someone who suffers some form of pain and stands straight again after. I try to display that in my work so women of differing personal strengths can relate to the situation at hand. In writing, you need to make the character relatable for it to resonate with the reader.”

“People seemed to resonate with an alien ice-being with magic more than actual human characters before.” Davina pointed out.

Paige knew she was clearly referencing Loki. “Yes, because of the portrayal of said ice-being and how well the character was acted out. People gravitate towards characters that are well portrayed and in that case, the most relatable and likeable character was the abandoned ice baby, raised on lies who, on realising it was all a lie was acted with anger, resentment, feeling incredibly inadequate, these are things that people feel empathy for.”

Davina looked at her for a moment before returning to other questions. “What book would you say would be a personal favourite of yours that people would not usually agree with?”

“Of my own or of another author's work?”

“Another author's.”

“People are startled when I say this though it is a very common choice but Pride and Prejudice.”

“You don't seem the type for conventional romance stories.”

“But you see, that's the thing. It's not conventional, or it wasn't, not in its day, it was groundbreaking in many respects. I was asked before at a gathering of friends if I could time travel just once into the past, when and where would I choose, and why. I said England, 1813, a week or so after that book was published and my reason being; that for a woman of no significant name, wealth or titles to decline the hand of a man of such considerable wealth and standing and citing her reasoning for such at a time where to do so was unheard of would have been an incredible experience. You know men were appalled by it, women of a certain mindset would have been scandalised by it and amongst them all, young women flabbergasted and enthralled. It would be called feminism in the modern age.”

“But she went and wed him in the end.”

“Yes, once both put aside their pride and prejudice. In it, you also see Elizabeth grow, acknowledge her own faults and become a better person too. I think a lot of people need to realise we all have negative faults we need to look at in ourselves too and Austin married it accordingly in her main characters, but also that people do change or at the very least, acknowledge themselves they are not perfect and work on it.”

“And you have faults?”

“Find me a person who claims they are without fault and I will show you a liar.”

“What would you say is your greatest fault?”

Paige thought for a moment. “I don't know which would stand over others, but I would say that I often lack social etiquette in particular situations. I don't believe in entertaining ideas of grandeur and in my world, many would argue that to be a considerable fault.”

“Many would commend that too.”

“Most people say they like an honest opinion until they receive one they do not like.” Paige countered.

“True.” The radio presenter agreed. “You pride yourself in never having to do too much publicity to sell your books, so I have to ask, do you still feel that way now, in your current situation?”

“I don't follow.”

“Well, since you went public with your current relationship, as I stated at the beginning of the show, you are now in the celebrity news for being with one of the most eligible men in Britain, surely you've noticed the increase in sales for your work? That is mostly due to the publicity of your relationship.”

“Well, I would argue it was not as though it was decided to go public since it was a photographer taking a photograph of a private brunch that alerted the world to this information, not a conscious decision to declare it publicly that made this information known, but yes, I am aware of the renewed increased sales and I have little doubt that that has been in part due to people hearing my name for what is, to them, the first time and deciding to see if they like my work resulting in these figures.”

“Do you think you will become a charity shop book now?”

“I have no idea nor do I have a say in it. I cannot force people to like my work, nor would I wish to force it as I believe in 'a pat on the back, not a pat on the head’. I want to be acknowledged for my work and it's quality, not because of the company I keep or who I may choose to be in a relationship with.”

“So you are not upset that many of your newest followers are only discovering you by these means?”

“Not everyone discovers the same people at the same time. Some only learn about certain authors, actors and singers after they have been around a while, for whatever reason, this is the very same. My soon-to-be sister-in-law only heard of Saoirse Ronan from her part in Mary Queen of Scots even though she has been the lead role in many movies and has been around since Atonement. That is not something to ridicule. People are only hearing of me now because of whatever reason, I am delighted they are and truly hope the like my work.”

“You are close to your family, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I consider family the most important thing in my life, my brother, his fiancée, my parents, they are so precious to me.”

“It must also be hard being in your current situation, supporting your significant other in a role centred around being betrayed when you, yourself have a similar experience.”

Paige shifted anxiously. “Well, I do not dwell on the past, it’s not a healthy way to live life.”

“But you were cheated on by your fiance, weren’t you? And to be with a man now that in many people’s eyes split up a music couple, how do you marry that?”

“I am not sure if that sort of drama-fishing warrants an answer if I’m honest. The only people who need to take account of their actions are those who are the guilty parties, namely, those who elect to cheat, I am told there was no infidelity there and until such time as I am led to believe otherwise, I would not speculate to such.”

“Do you like her, Taylor?”

“I don’t know three things about her. I never really found myself listening to her music, I never was overly into pop, so that is not a slight on anyone. I know the name to hear, of course, I don't live under a rock but I don't know her in any manner that would cause me to form an opinion on her as an individual.” Paige stated diplomatically, uncomfortable with the situation.

“And have you been to the play?”

“I have actually, yes. I quite enjoyed it too.”

“You seem somewhat startled by that.”

“I stated in the not too distant past that I did not feel it to be the best of Pinter's work due to him writing it with the aspect of the one being cheated on as a main point when he clearly cannot comprehend the sensation. The actors and actresses that put their hearts into the roles, the stage crew, everyone backstage, they put everything into this and it shows. I cannot commend them enough, they brought it to life brilliantly.”

“So what is next for you?”

“I am not sure really. I find I am asked that and indeed, asking myself that a lot of late. I still scribble a few things down, to keep myself fresh, but of yet, nothing is really coming to me.”

“Do you think it is partly because of a content home life? Having another you can depend on surely makes you complacent in many ways, I know when I got married, my husband’s income really gave me the security to try and get the job I sought.”

“I think there is a considerable difference between someone leaning on their spouse for support and leaning on those they are not so bound to. I always prided myself, since the day after my A-levels, of having my own income. My parents assisted me until then, I would never deny it, something not everyone is lucky to afford, and I don’t ever plan on that changing. I think it is imperative people have security in themselves if possible when doing something like writing a book. I wrote four pieces that were outright ignored before I ever even got a hint of interest from a publishing house. While doing that, I needed to afford to live and that meant housing that I am fairly sure dogs in a kill shelter reside in, because this is London, after all, and two jobs, one as a receptionist and one in my local all-night cafe. Even now, I make sure I am smart with my finances and this is the life of a writer, I would very much want others to understand, not everyone turns to JK Rowling with millions, or in her case for a short time, billion, in the bank. Even George RR Martin is not as wealthy as people think and though it affords him a comfortable life, writers rarely are that well off and if you are expecting others to fund you, especially in this world, you may be a long time looking.” Paige could see the presenter didn’t like her going off course slightly, but she used a technique to volley the conversation into a more impersonal and vague area.

Davina frowned as she realised Paige would not say or do anything controversial as a guest, to which Paige smiled politely back. “Good sound advice there. What do you think of Tom’s online fans, they are enthusiastic and protective of him, aren’t they?”

“I do believe so, yes. I am not a big fan of social media myself. I don’t do Instagram or Twitter and my Facebook is dormant for nearly two years at this stage. I think personally, I am more at home in a less technological era. I would have done well back in the eighties, I think.” She laughed. “With regards fans, people gravitate towards some people. They hold your attention more than others do and some for the wrong reasons, some for some very right ones. Some people light up the room they are in, they smile and are wonderful people and of course, people would want to be around that and wish to project towards that, I cannot blame them. It is great and alluring quality.”

“You don’t seem to mention Tom by name,” Davina noted.

Paige laughed slightly. “I don’t seem to have to really, do I? I think people will know who I am referencing, those who care for such things, those who do not will be glad not to be bombarded with it.”

“Not really no.” Davina looked at Paige’s polite smile. It was clear Paige was studying every question before answering, making sure not to say anything that could be construed as controversial. “Finally, is there any advice you have for young aspiring people, not just in your own field, but in general?”

“Well, I suppose the best thing I can say is not something I personally have said. But I think it is a great quote. ‘Never, ever, let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. Prove the cynics wrong. Pity them for they have no imagination’.”

*

Tom huffed slightly as he listened to the words Paige spoke on his phone, Luke beside him.

“What’s so funny?” Luke asked curiously.

“That’s something I said.” Tom pointed out.

“She’s done her homework. Oscar said she is thorough, I didn’t realise how much so.” Luke commended. “She handled that perfectly.”

“She’s an incredible and intelligent woman.” Tom agreed.

Luke studied his friend/client carefully, noting the manner in which he smiled as he listened to Paige speak.

[grimelords]

My September playlist is here, 37 songs from opera to bossa nova to a song about marrying Tom Collins to thank him for the sips. I’m hopeful there’ll be at least one thing in here you’ll enjoy

Been Drinkin’ Water Out Of Hollow Log - Mississippi Fred McDowell: I love this song because every other version I’ve ever heard sings it as ‘I’ve been drinking muddy water, sleeping in a hollow log’, but straight up drinking out of the log sounds so much better. Also I just found out that this version I’ve loved for years was the original Alan Lomax recording and not a later one like I’d assumed, which is nice!

Tom Collins - The Sloppy Boys: I have not been able to get this song out of my head since I heard it. “I sent an edible arrangement to my travel agent because they had free booze on the carnival cruise” is a masterpiece of rhyme and the way he screams “hold him in my grips!” is just perfect.

What Means Of Witchery - Gospel: This is a perfect song. I think it’s criminal that Gospel aren’t more widely known and I think I’ve decided to make it my life mission to spread the word. The gospel of Gospel if you will. You don’t have to. I had a long daydream a little while ago about transcribing the drums in this song, which feels like an unresolved brain problem but exemplifies just how much I love it.

A Saint Among Madmen - Helen Of Troy: This is the band the drummer from Gospel was in before Gospel and they’re really really good. This sort of spoken word song is hard to pull off without sounding totally corny and I think him being so low in the mix really helps. It reminds me of some early At The Drive-In instrumental wise. The way it finally kicks off, and the sort of yelping desperate tone to the screams in the second half is just so satisfying.

shimripl casual - Autechre: Another cut I enjoyed from Autechre’s immense new album as I work on comprehending it. I like this song because it sounds like a field recording of a prototype mechanical swamp.

New Rules - Dua Lipa: This song feels like it deserves a marching band. There's just so much going on rhythmically, the dancehall rhythm at the centre of it is constantly augmented by all sorts of other percussion, the great snare work throughout, the perfectly formed tiny fill that introduces the chorus, it's just an absolute feast. I only found out the other day that the guy who produced this, Ian Kirkpatrick, also did Bad Liar - what a year for Ian!

My Girls - Tears For Fears: Hey Tears For Fears did a cover of My Girls by Animal Collective and this might be controversial but I think it's better than the original. It tightens up the structure and differentiates the sections a bit, so that it changes from a slow building jam into an odd pop song. They also draw out the harmonies more so that you really notice how funny it is to sing 'my father's graaave' over and over in a big bass under everything.

Crosses - Zero 7 and Jose Gonzales: Sia's career from before she was world-famous Sia is so interesting because she had like a full 15 years of being notable around the world in a bunch of different ways before it all coalesced into Big Sia. She was a backing vocalist in Jamiraquai's band for god's sake. She also was the de facto vocalist of this downtempo band Zero 7 for three albums, but she's not on this song but Jose Gonzales also sang on about half the songs on this album is! This is a remix/cover of his solo song Crosses but this version really shows the song in a whole different light to the original.

Napoleon Solo - At The Drive-In: Years ago in high school one of about 5 videos I had on my iPod was this version of Napoleon Solo from 2001 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Nlfmqsx1r0 and I would watch it over and over and over. It's also a good example of why Cedric's lyrics are like they are. He just talks like that. He says things like 'they had the acme weight dropped on them' to describe his friends who died in a car crash and you just have to go along with it.

Act Three: No. 27 - A Real Slow Drag - Scott Joplin: Did you know Scott Joplin, the man behind everyone's favourite song The Entertainer, wrote TWO operas?? Because I didn't. One of them is unfairly lost to history but the other, Treemonisha, was written in 1911 but not properly performed until the Joplin renaissance in 1972. This is the big finale and it's partly because of the performance but partly because of the way he wrote it but it feels a lot more modern than any other operas I've heard from the era. Even though it is mostly a march, it feels like melodically and structurally he's drawing on pre-blues and gospel music in a way that presages rock and roll and the influence it's had on all music since - it feels more like a musical than an opera.

Celia - Cults: Cults have a new EP and it's an entirely different sound for them. Pounding, dark, Ochestral Manouveurs In The Dark type synths under their best lyrics in a long time.

Sharp Dressed Man - Xiu Xiu: Xiu Xiu did this ZZ Top cover for The AV club and I absolutely love it. It sounds like Queens Of The Stone Age if Josh Homme’s charisma stat overflowed and reset back to 0. This recording they did later is is great but the original video is even better https://youtu.be/0SG6yDSbtxULazy 

Nina - Greg Phillinganes: This was a recommendation from my friend and yours @megapope and thank god he did because I've had it stuck in my head all month. Written by Donald Fagen from Steely Dan for Michael Jackson's keyboard player's solo album, a true behind-the-scenes hit.

Gobbledigook - Sigur Ros: I was thinking about how after Takk Sigur Ros got so big and famous and rich off advertising money for their beautiful music and then made the best move possible and pivoted abruptly away from ethereal graceful floating melodies hung from the moon by a gossamer string to good old fashioned stompers made of wood. This is another in my very short playlist of songs like this and The Dodos first album where the driving rhythm plus acoustic guitars are the centre of it all. A little genre that I think has a lot left in it to explore.

Betty Dreams Of Green Men - Guerilla Toss: This feels like the energy drink version of Aqua by Eurythmics from last month's playlist. This sounds like BATS to me and I'm excited because there's not enough music like this around. Extremely energetic power music about some kind of 1950s alien invasion.

#NeverUseTheInternetAgain - Homeboy Sandman and Edan: I love this song. It starts out with a sentiment everyone can agree on (facebook sucks, the internet is bad) and quickly veers into 50 year old man gripes (GPS has ruined everyone's sense of direction? you should order pizza over the phone? match.com??) but it's got such conviction in the hook that I'm sold anyway and have pledged to #neverusetheinternetagain.

Vanishing Hour - Helen Of Troy: This is another Helen Of Troy song but it basically sounds like an unheard Gospel song, which is incredible new for me; the guy who will never stop tracking down every cassette and live recording they ever did. I don't know how the membership of Helen Of Troy went beyond sharing a drummer but the vocalist of Gospel is unmistakably in the mix here and it sounds fantastic.

Canon x Love S.O.S. - Justice: Another great cut from Justice's new sort of live album. This whole album has really made me appreciate Love S.O.S. a lot more. It comes back two or three times and I'm grateful every time. It's a perfect glam rock sentiment. Sending a love ambulance because there's a love emergency happening.

Mariners Apartment Complex - Lana Del Rey: I feel like we don't deserve new Lana yet. I'm so grateful but I'm still getting over Lust For Life and she's going to do this to me? Amazing.

I Got Cash - Brooklyn Funk Essentials: Another @megapope find. Perhaps the most powerful song I've ever heard, in the sense that I feel like I'm being personally admonished throughout. The power structures at play here are towering and the beat.. it's funky.

Pray - Jungle: Jungle flat out released five (5) singles before their album came out and they were all so amazing that I was worried they wouldn't have anything left for the actual album but guess what: the whole thing is absolutely gold, and especially this last song Pray. The feeling I get from the hook into the big drop feels like being dropped bodily into a big tub of honey, if there was a way that that could feel good instead of terrifying. It’s just luscious.

Sad Rude Future Dude - Ball Park Music: I googled “haven’t had a friend in years” trying to remember what this song was called and became instantly suicidal at the sheer amount of reddit threads that phrase returned. Which is I suppose exactly what this song’s about: posting on reddit about how the internet has ruined my relationships and brain, but in a very upbeat, singalong way. This song is a good example of how a dynamic drummer can completely elevate a song to another level.

Knuck If You Buck - Crime Mobb: Knuckle up if you're buck wild it's Crime Mobb. The best named crew since Ruff Sqwad. The two women in this (Princess and Diamond) absolutely carry the whole song. Everyone else has got such a mopey boring flow but they both come in so lively and so aggressive you cannot get away from it. Is there a more powerful opener than "I come in the club, shaking my dreads, throwing these bows and busting these heads"? Is there a better line in general than "Crime Mob, it ain't no stopping, it be like Saddam Hussein, Hitler and Osama Bin Laden"?

Deixa - Toquinho: I'm quickly becoming one of these 'the end is near' sandwich board guys grabbing people on the street and yelling at them except about bossa nova. It is criminal how much this whole genre has been reduced to funny elevator music or The Girl From Ipanema as ironic intermission music when it has stuff like this to offer us. I really recommend this whole album, I've been obsessed with it over the last couple weeks and it's just breathtaking start to finish.

The Way - Friends: This band's spotify page is good because it's full of absolutely no-name recordings of Blank And Friends that have fucked up their tagging. Anyway I have never heard a song like this, and I didn't think it was possible to use big 80s pinch harmonic guitars like this but they pulled it off in an absolutely beautiful way.

Mass Grave - Health and Soccer Mommy: Corrin Roddick of Purity Ring produced this new Health song which brings the degrees of separation between Health and Katy Perry down to a thrilling 1 since Purity Ring did two songs on her new album. This really does sound like Health covering a Purity Ring song and that's excellent news in my book. I don't know much about Soccer Mommy but this song has definitely inspired me to check her out so I'll undoubtedly report back on that next month.

(two circles) - Boredoms: I only just made the connection that Yamantaka Eye from Boredoms is the same Eye from from Hanatarash who famously drove a bulldozer through the back wall of a venue as part of a performance. Which I mention only because it really exemplifies just how much of a change of direction Vision Creation Newsun is from all that, just ten years later he's in a totally different direction of building something beautiful instead of tearing music (and buildings) apart at the seams. Nobody knows how to describe this album, it's space rock it's post rock it's experimental but it has something that a lot of that music doesn't - positivity. This whole album is a sun-worshipping positive fever without ever feeling lost or meandering.

Centreline - Ava Luna: I'm mad at this song. At about 1:15 they do an extremely satisfying thing sing the 'line' in 'centre line' in a deep bass and it sounds great. Then every other time that section comes around they either don't sing it or there's something else going on that obscures it and it blueballs you for the whole rest of the song. Other than that it's good, but i'm at war with this song.

Venice Bitch - Lana Del Rey: I am so excited that Lana Del Rey is finally embracing the most often ignored part of americana and facilitating a jam band. This is the last thing I would expect from Jack Antonoff but he did amazingly. It sounds closer to Ultraviolence era than anything else she's done and I'm just plain excited to see what the album is going to be like if this is any indication.

Act 1 Scene 4: This Is Monstrous, Wozzeck! - Alban Berg: I found an english version of Wozzeck and it's one of the best opera recordings I've ever heard. It's just plain mixed and recorded well, which is a rarity when a lot of opera recordings seem like they just hung a single mic somewhere at the back of the theatre and pressed the button. Anyway here's the good bit from Wozzeck where Wozzeck goes to the doctor and the doctor yells at him for "Pissing! Pissing there on the pavement!" See, opera’s fun!

Pop Roll Flow - Clypso: I heard this song on Unearthed when they had Nick Littlemore from Pnau guest programming and I love it. It feels brand new and very familiar at the same time, every sound in it is in absolute hypercolour, and the verse vocal sounds like a cool insect is singing at me. What's not to love!

I Might Survive - Architecture In Helsinki: I always feel like Arcitechture In Helsinki are poised to make like Portugal The Man and have an international superhit off their seventh album. They have been consistently reinventing their brain of weirdo-pop every single album for 15 years now and it feels like they've still got so much more to give. This song especially deserved to be a hit in my opinion, it's pop perfection and I've come around from hating to completely loving the little 'than alive baby!' adlib near the end.

Angels - The xx: My two best friends got married to each other this month and it was beautiful. What's more, she picked the perfect song to walk down the aisle to. I'm so happy to see two of the people I love the most in love with each other, and also when I drove them to their suite after the reception my phone accidentally started playing Merzbow's new album which was good.

Jesus Was A Cross Maker - Judee Sill: I'm so glad I found out about this album. Judee Sill had a crazy life, and her wiki page is a ride but unlike a lot of musicians with a back story her music stand alone - unique, rich and beautiful. Tightly structured and thoughtfully composed for such hippy-dippy christian mythology themes, and melodically beautiful even when her voice isn't quite up to the task. It really does feel like the spirit was moving through her. This song in particular is amazing I have been straight up listening to it on repeat. The phrasing is insane, the self-harmonised vocals sound like they're phasing in a very cool way, the violins break into a Bach figure halfway through - it's just amazing. I cannot stop listening. I've also started a playlist of this, Jesus Is A Dying Bedmaker by John Fahey and Jesus Came To My Brithday Party by The Middle East so I'm absolutely 'on one' as the kids say.

Rappers Convention - Harlem World Crew: another thanks to @megapope for bringing this incredible moment to my attention. A very early rap song that was recorded in the middle of the Iranian hostage crisis and helpfully gives a complete breakdown of the situation in the opening verse before getting back to basics and detailing how much they love partying for the remaining 5 minutes. Music is truly incredible. 

I Need A Lover - John Mellencamp: I'm learning a lot about John Mellencamp this week. Apparently this song was originally on the album 'A Biography' in 78 that didn't get a release in the US because his first album did so badly, but I Need A Lover was a top ten hit here in Australia and was thusly included on his next album a year later and blew up in the US. The other surprising thing is the album version, this version, has a fully two minute long intro before it gets to the song.

High (feat. Elton John) - Young Thug: The Lil' Nutsack song that makes Dewey Cox famous again in Walk Hard is real now and it's good as fuck.​

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