#OH THERE ARE UNIVERSAL EXPRESSIONS OF EMOTION ARE THERE PAUL

[dragonomatopoeia]

scientific literacy will give you a fun little rogue's gallery if you're doing it right. a nemesis roster even. for instance i want to smash a chair over paul ekman's head.

#OH THERE ARE UNIVERSAL EXPRESSIONS OF EMOTION ARE THERE PAUL #HOW ABOUT THIS ONE I SHRIEK #AS I UNLEASH A GRINNING CHIMPANZEE UPON HIM

[gildeddlily]

we stan adam (paul bby what are you doing)[about to make this a series]

again with this. about to die because of them (chuuya looks so young in every Stormbringer art I'm crying)

(1. We Stan The Flags)

2. We stan Adam (Paul bby what are you doing)

he comes out of nowhere and pull out this (they were about to kill him and he was like "oh wow you're kinda mean I expected a better welcome")

ADAM STOP the first time I read stormbringer I fell in love with him right here. like the first thing he said I already was head over heels for this beautiful robot (people who don't like Adam scares me. he's so precious. the perfect assistant, fighter and comic relief)

chuuya's so hilarious- he's about to become one of the strongest character of the bsd universe and an european guy he doesn't know crash his mafia birthday party and ignores the attacks of some of the strongest people he knows, and then said guy proceeds to say that he's here to protect chuuya and kneels before him? (I'm already hearing chuuya's voice actor. it's a dream but let me indulge myself)

(me talking to my sister cause I'm a dumbass) yes I already said that, the flags' bond and interactions are so familiar it's making me cry. Albatross is the classic dumb cousin or little brother that deep down is smarter than you but incapable of doing basic things, and Lippmann the successful third-grade-cousin everybody hates cause he gave them inferiority complex (Iceman neutral chaotic forever)

Chuuya's the king of emotional constipation, and they love seeing him express his feelings (they've welcome him in their group and dynamic, and truly cherish him and wish the best for him. they're so honest it hurts) (everybody ab this thing hurts) (I just know that at least once they gang up against him and started showering him with compliments and he almost cried and they were flabbergasted)

HELLO WHAT IS THIS Doc is literally so me guys (yk the voice) wish I was Chuuya rn (not really considering what's about to happen) (but still)

yeah cause Chuuya near him is like a cat hissing at a horse. I can understand Adam for holding him like and Amazon pack, not for saying to a teenage boy's face that he was short but for the rest ofc (he has his programs and he knows what to do but not really and it's so cute) (Chuuya after a year still wishing for his so wished growth spurt is sad) (but I just know that he doesn't care about it, at least not really. he could still smash someone's face with his pinky finger)

Yes Adam it was (I wish for our society to be ruled by robots too) (imagine Adam being your prime minister. maybe someone explains to him social clues) (Chuuya's so confused) (random robot guy tells him jokes and that some overpowered guy wants to kill him)

...Paul fuck is this the way to tell someone you're their "brother" ? A little of decency please (Chuuya's about to suffer so much I can't continue) (I will) Adam's scream was a little terrifying the first time I read it, the "That man is Paul Verlaine!" shout made me shiver and still does. Still love them

The sad thing about this first interaction, is that Verlaine is honestly sad "like the sea at night", and honestly wants Chuuya to believe him, he truly thinks of themselves as anything but humans. He doesn't do it out of malice (one of the reason he's still alive down those fucking dungeons I know it) and it all makes hating on him hard. If you're able to hate characters like verlaine I envy you

It is a call for help, and his personal way of saying "Hey, I've never felt understood by anyone cause I'm not human and I don't feel as one, wanna come with me and be two non-humans together?", but it came out a little bit more like "Let's be non-humans together, but anyone who ever tried to tell u you were human should die, so everyone you love rn. Hope you don't hate me, kiss kiss"

here is why I didn't want to read it. he is ready to listen to Verlaine. Chuuya doesn't think of himself as truly human, so he wants to listen to him, but his first thought is about the Flags, and sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the french guy didn't kill his friends. got to thin ab it now

yes, darling, there's a difference between love and control. I'm sorry no one ever explained it to you, you boyfriend didn't have the possibility to. and like always Asagiri's able to portrait questions like this in his stories, cause it's a difference not everyone understand. or that not everyone cares about. Verlaine probably didn't really care, desperate how he was about having someone to understand him

this makes me hate every panel where Chuuya uses Corruption (hate on Mori, don't hate on Dazai he was the only one to ever give him a choice. well, it was at least a choice from Dazai's point of view. he was like "do what you want, I don't really care if the Mafia fall! just follow your heart<3" but ofc Chuuya would have never let dazai and the Mafia fall. as if. it's still sweet. now cry with me)

He should leave himself suffer and feel. he's not going to. he should. able to dream or not, he will have from hallucinations when drunk or high or whatever situation he's in and see their mauled bodies. he will always remember the room he spent beautiful moments with his family in as covered with the blood of said family.

this is basically self harm bby, stop it. he wants someone to confirm the truth, and is so horrible to himself to ask this to an android (what's thaaaaaaaat) who is unable to say something like "It wasn't your fault, he was to one to kill them. he's more powerful than you, you and your friends couldn't have done anything. he wanted you to give up on your life for someone you met from not even ten minutes. he had already killed them", the truth. he can only analyze the situation without any emotions.

little thing from the first scene at the bar, albatross making period jokes to his bro (he's about to die in his "bro" arms. he's about to gift him his bike as his last words. but he made a period joke)

(first chapter done and I'm done with myself) (and this light novel) (it's everything but light)

#stormbringer #bsd light novel #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya nakahara #the flags #bsd storm bringer #bsd #bungou stray dogs #random thoughts #shut up #love tumblr tags #soukoku #paul verlaine

[decadentparadisekitty]

love advice from the grand duke of hell

it's just funny guys i don't really have much else to say other than that. each, every inch of plot, serves to set up gags. it's my current second favorite story of all time for that reason. Despite how much I want to be the cool analyst 'omg look at this intellectual depth' critic, i am just me. I like blue period because i relate to blue period, and i like love advice from the grand duke because the gags are good stuff.

spoilers under the cut

You can tell me all you'd like about the many, many stories with more intellectual depth (actually maybe ur hard pressed for something topping blue period) but that is not what I'm here for. I want to have a good time. Love advice is giving me a good time.

I love the main couple, because a) i think it's realistic how someone who is unaware of an existence filled with genuine care for others and doesn't know how to express that care effectively and you can be like "she literally manipulated the main guy with a love spell" which yeah not cool but...she's been traumatized to the point she can barely comprehend the world of emotion. She just...doesn't know how to hold back, when to push, how to handle it.

you may then say "she killed his mother" which afterwards i will admit, i saw duchess acting as "elena" just be really cool with paul's pathetic attitude and i was like "fuck yes"

the in universe justification was weak shit for my ship though "i was overcome by emotion" i mean realistic? yes. but dude that reveals violent wiring in the brain that need severe overhaul, i understand the wording's weird but picture a man who when provoked severely, acts in a manner that hurts his loved ones. Like at that point...it's clear something's up with his wiring and being with him in a romantic manner would be dangerous. Same with the duchess.

so i will just admit my reasons for shipping, i saw paul wear the fricking fluffy jacket with the pink shirt and immediately self inserted as elena. i admit it wholeheartedly. i saw the part where paul met the duchess and was like "oh wow she kinda cute i wanna romance a demon lady" and self inserted as paul. And so, I just pretend naphula's alive

i never claimed (in this post) to care much for intellectual depth.

That doesn't make it unimportant, i just don't think stories, the medium i view as mostly fun, really need to depress me, or change my brain chemistry so to speak. Reality does that enough. If I want to think in a new way, I'd prefer to just talk to other people and truly consider their beliefs than to attempt to change myself for the better by watching the right movie.

at the end of the day, i read comics, books, manga, anime, i do that all to destress. i don't think there's much wrong with that.

tv shows made with actual actors i simply tolerate, like maybe my brain's weird but seeing real people with faces ruins stories for me :/ like idk i feel so much more uncomfortable shipping (which is like...my favorite part about fandoms) when im connecting real faces to the ship.

[thatslikely]

A Slow Dance - G.W.

A Slow Dance- George Weasley x Fem!Reader (unspecified house)

Warnings: none! pure fluff <3

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: y’all I’m serious. where’s my George. I need someone like this asap, don’t be shy universe. hope you guys enjoy as always :)

Just a Reminder: song lyrics/thoughts are in italics [I imagined is Put Your Head on My Shoulder by Paul Anka, but any song works]

Taglist: @horrorxweasley @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa 

if you want to be added, send me a dm or an ask!

Requested by the lovely @amourtentiaa [my first request I’ve gotten, and I love it!]

----

“Ugh. Why do you have to sit hunched over your desk studying all the time? Have at least a little fun! It’s our last year at Hogwarts!” A sprawled out George exclaimed from your ruffled four-poster bed with a groan. His handsome face hung off the edge of the bed frame, his upside-down gaze fixed on your distracted figure.

George was always quite needy; it was practically a law of nature. Whether it was running around pulling a record-breaking marathon of pranks, or just tenderly holding his large, soft hand while discussing your favorite novel, he lapped up every ounce of you he could. 

“Georgie, if I don’t do well on my N.E.W.T.s, how do you expect me to get a decent job?” you asked with a bit more bite than you intended. The complex, academic sentences scribbled onto the parchment before you droned through your brain like headache-inducing white noise, which soured your attitude more than you liked to admit. 

It made your heart flutter knowing that George yearned for your care so much, but you had your whole life to spend with the vexatious redhead. You only had the next week to pass your N.E.W.T.s. 

“You’ll always have a job down with me at the shop, c’mon! Imagine: my two favorite things wrapped up into one!” he said, before adding more softly, “plus, you’d look so cute in the uniform.” You couldn’t help your cheeks from heating up at his affectionate comment, which wasn’t intended to grace your ears. 

“I wish it was simple as that, Georgie. While I’d love to work with you at the shop, you know that’s not what I really want to do. You always tell me to shoot for the moon, and this is just part of the process.” You were unrelenting with your studying, which George of course admired, but he was equally relentless in his pursuit of spending time with you, even if it was just for a second. 

The dorm fell suspiciously quiet, which allowed your mind to delve even deeper into your studies. The strokes of your quill grew deeper and sharper into the parchment with focus, the ink-blotted tip eventually tearing a small rip mid-sentence.

A breath that you unknowingly held escaped your lips in the form of an exasperated sigh. You rubbed your temples before picking up the quill and starting again. 

You mindlessly scribed cursive onto the dense paper for several minutes before snapping out of your trance at the jarring noise of a chair’s legs scraping across the hardwood floors. George took the vacant seat next to you, resting his elbow on the surface of the desk. 

His handsome face rested comfortably in his palm, his whole body turned towards you. You could’ve sworn his mischievous but lovable gaze flickered to your soft lips every few seconds like a magnet drawn to its opposite pole. 

Stop thinking about George, and his delicious lips, alluring cocoa-colored eyes, fluffy red hair… think about Transfiguration! 

Your quill-wielding wrist moved in more furious motions, your determination to stay devoted to your academics made your eyes drift to the smug titian-haired boy next to you more than ever. You eventually succumbed to your heart’s desires, giving George a small glance.

The expression George donned shattered your expectations; you expected his eyes to be droopy and half-asleep, jaw-slacked in boredom, evidenced by his disdain of all things school-related. 

Instead, however, his red tongue stuck out to his chin, his index fingers pulling apart his freckled cheeks. His mocha eyes were humorously crossed, fixed on his adorable aquiline nose. He looked utterly ridiculous.

“What’re you doing, Georgie? You look absurd!” you questioned with a hefty chuckle. His eyes lit up with triumph at the laugh fleeing your lips. 

“I’m getting your eyes off that stupid piece of parchment! You’ve been writing nonsense on it for the past quarter of an hour. You need a break.”

“Just let me study a bit more, then I promise I’ll spend some time with you, okay?” you bargained, hoping for compliance. You pivoted your head back to the strewn papers resting on the mahogany desk in front of you, ready to get back into a productive rhythm. 

The welcome rhythm never stayed for long though, for it was always disrupted by George making another goofy face. He’s just being a child, you thought, you’re a seventh year. Ridiculous faces aren’t funny. Oh how wrong you were. 

With every new expression that graced his features, another laugh threatened to escape your mouth. Soon enough, your eyes were steadily fixed on the frivolous ginger, ready for what face he would come up with next. 

Your brain was locked in a battle: George and his loveable humor, versus your Transfiguration notes and passing your N.E.W.T.s. Both were hardy competitors, but in the end, McGonagall’s subject prevailed. George got up from the seat next to you with a huff, blowing a stray red strand of hair up from his forehead. 

He paced around the large room, scheming a way to get your undivided attention. He peeked around the wooden shelves and dressers that stayed pressed against the walls of the dorms, looking for something, anything.

His eyes eventually settled on the record player on your nightstand by your bed. It was a muggle device that his father had ranted about many times before, and he guessed that he could probably figure out how to work it. 

His calloused fingers plucked the top inky-black vinyl record from the stack, feeling the textured grooves engraved in its surface. He set the record in place, dropping the needle not long after. The previously pin-drop silent room quickly came to life with the enrapturing sounds of harmonious chords.

It appeared that even the universe wanted to free you from the shackles of your boring notes, for the vinyl George happened to choose was your favorite song, and a slow, romantic one at that. 

George lightly tapped your back, causing you to swivel around towards him. He had his long, toned arm outstretched to you charmingly, beckoning you for a dance. You gingerly placed your palm into his and he swiftly pulled you out of the chair and into the middle of the floor.

His face was handsome as ever; you only just now realized how much you missed all of him. His gentle touch, his honey-pooled eyes, the pure love pumping through his veins. His hands rapturously rested on your waist, yours’ wrapped around the nape of his neck. You twirled a small section of his red hair in between your fingers, which only made the lovestruck grin on his face grow bigger.

The song continued to echo through the cozy walls of the room, the unified swaying of your hips in sync with the song’s slow beat. You nearly melted in his warm embrace, his arms gradually bringing you closer and closer to his beating chest.

You eventually rested your head on George’s shoulder, feeling the soothing vibrations of his vocal chords humming along with the notes of the song. 

Put your lips next to mine dear, won’t you kiss me once, baby?

As if the song had you two lovebirds under a spell, George slowly brought his lips to yours, giving you a slow and passionate kiss. 

He’d kissed you so many times before, but this time it felt different, in the best way possible. It was as if angels sang when your lips graced his’; you could taste his feelings through the connection, his devotion and longing for you overriding your senses. Your eyes teared up at the wave of endearing emotions that overcame you. 

The sensual dancing continued long through the night, the tender and enchanting kisses and slow sways wiping your mind of the stressful upcoming exams. 

“Feel better, darling?” George breathily mumbled into your ear, the warmth from his mouth shooting directly to your heart, coating your body with goosebumps.

All your hazy, smitten mind could respond with was a simple but passionate, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

#george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #fred and george #george weasley x reader #fred and george weasley #george weasley x you #george weasley blurb #george weasley drabble #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley headcanon #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x any house #george weasley x #fred and goerge weasley #george fic recs #the weasley twins #weasley wizard wheezes #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harrypotter #harry potter fic #hp

[practicalmagicintuitions]

“The fates lead the willing and drag the unwilling”

I was thinking about that last MT podcast HC had when he mentioned stoicism and a book I have but I haven’t read yet. So I decided to deep dive in a little bit because I studied philosophy at the university at a very basic level but I always wanted to know more, so this seems a good occasion. I am also interested in what HC could see in this philosophy school. I think we all know at this point he is interested in things that interest his people, not necessarily him or he is dropping ideas, new things fast. So one part of this will be a summary of stoicism because I feel many people have misconceptions or don’t know what is this just saying this is sh*t even don’t have the slightest idea about it. The other part will be a little HC armchair analysis by me throughout this topic. And I also decided to read the book he mentioned - Viktor E. Frankl Man's Search for Meaning - and maybe I will walk through it or give you a summary if you interested. 

Bare with me, because this turned out to be long, but I had to get out his from my system.

Not soon after the pandemic and the lockdown started in 2020 Penguin Random House said the print sales of Marcus Antonius’s Meditations are up 28% for the first quarter of 2020 vs 2019, while print sales of Letters from a Stoic are up 42% for the same period. The ebook sales rose by 356% . This boom was because of the pandemic but the popularity of modern stoicism has been an upcoming thing for a while especially since people like Bill Gates or Warren Buffet allegedly used stoicism in their business and Thomas Kaplan is supporting a Stoicism Course at Brown University. But unfortunately, modern stoicism has become kind of a ready-made lifehack, a self-helping method, that’s why books like Ryan Holiday’s one could be published and becomes a success. This is where I see modern stoicism’s faults. 

Stoicism seems a good school to support or to follow in the pandemic because this is about we have to accept the things we have no control over. Probably that’s why the sales went up. This is about don’t letting uncontrollable things or events messing with your judgment and clarity. Fear, screams, panic, rages don’t help. And I think we can agree this is true. Aurelius wrote his Meditations in the middle of a battle when his men were dying not just because of the fights but because of a pox epidemic and top of that he was an Emperor. So to maintain his sanity he had become a stoic. He didn’t have an influence on the epidemic so he just accept it and didn’t spend his energy raging about it. 

Stoicism was founded by Zenon around 300 BC. And it was a thriving and popular school without huge wars or pandemics or anything. Back then it was not a reaction to something but a preparation for something. More directly prepare yourself the thing you cannot be prepared for. And probably this is the OG stoicism most valuable teaching that there are events in this world we simply cannot control. What we can control however how we react to those events. Are we remain calm or think this is a catastrophe. Let see a very basic example. We are mortals, we will die no matter what. This is a sure event we have no control over. What we can control that our view on this. Will we panic? Refuse to even talk about death or refuse to make a will because “OMG I will die then!!” Like spoiler alert, it will happen, will or no will. Or we understand our time is limited and try to enjoy it and not see smaller inconveniences are tragedies. I am sure we all know people who think if they spill themselves over with coffee or the handle of the grocery’s bag comes off it’s a pure tragedy and they are capable of thinking about this all day as something it is happening with them always an exclusively. 

Until this, I think it’s all good we can use this in our daily life. What is dangerous in the OG stoicism is that the stricter wing of it thought emotions as a whole or almost all of it cause confusion so you basically should eliminate emotions to have that clarity on life. That’s why Diogenes wrote that the wise is emotionless. And this is the main and very valid criticism again stoics, that with taking away the emotions they basically ripping of humans from something very unique valuable, important, because our emotions make us humans. And because living totally emotionless is kinda impossible this goal is not realistic, so it causes many frustrations ( oh my... even more emotions!) Because think about it, who are described as emotionless? Psychopaths. 

You have cases, events, when your emotions, even overflowing ones are right and acceptable and suppressing them, could be dangerous. Because realistic or not Marcus Aurelius and Seneca and the other stoics idea was not just watching the world and letting things happen, shrugging a shoulder and say nothing, no! Their philosophy and aim were to eliminate the bothering things which not let you think calmly. And since we are talking about philosophy the reality of this in practice is secondary. Critics also think ( and maybe the modern stoicism is going in this direction) that a hardcore stoics care only about themself and their egos while Seneca says friendships are important and in general most stoics accepted positive feelings (to a certain extent).

Stoicism comes back to life mostly in psychotherapy around 1900 by Paul Dubois ( before him there was another new wave of stoicism in the 16th century) and that’s where Victor E Frankle is connected to this topic. I haven’t read his book yet but I know his method is called logotherapy (logos= meaning) and this was born in the deepest existential crisis when his whole family was killed in a concentration camp and he felt he had remained only one personal freedom, the way how he reacts to the circumstances. Frankle invented his own method so he is not just planted some ancient in the modern world but he in fact thought Socrates and his philosophy is his inspiration. I won’t talk about this more until I read his book. 

* I wanted to listen to the whole podcast again, but I couldn’t so I just went to the part we care about now.

So they are talking about morning routines and he mention that one of his teachers in primary school said to him “Always expect the unexpected” This is pure stoicism and while I am not suggesting he is lying I noticed he likes to blend his current interest with his childhood memories like when he said at the WitcherCon how they had to build a fantasy castle in the school (or something) and this was such good preparation for him because he has a fantasy series now. Convenient right?

So he mentioned the teacher and a little later hinting that he is into stoicism lately. Question is, which comes first? The teacher with the stoic idea or the stoicism as a new interest somehow repainted his childhood memories? 

Then he again is talking about the stoic’s way of control. Or does he? 

“ focusing on the thing you can control and make yourself better to control them” 

This was never part of the OG philosophy because that is not about being a control freak. It is actually the opposite. If you cannot control something let it go, not force things to go on your way and if you failed then you let go. 

The next part it’s not about this topic but I have to mention it because I kinda overlooked it when I listed this at the first time.

He is asked about the fitness industry’s mistakes and he said

“I wouldn’t be the kinda person to point my finger at anyone and say there is a big mistake there…. I wouldn’t ever want to point to finger at anyone saying there is a mistake “

So… should I insert the FO post here? And I know the question and the answer was about fitness but he clearly has no problem pointing fingers at people. 

This leads to us again to the control topic. His FO post is creaming about controlling. “ You don’t like the way I am dating? You don’t like I have a covid romance? Then I will tell you what to do and how to behave because I need to have control over my fandom”

When the host asked him about overcoming obstacles he mention the book - Victor E. Frankl Man's Search for Meaning. (he also said it’s difficult to give advice…)

While he is talking about the book (and for me, it’s clear that the host doesn’t give a damn about this) so HC’s whole tone is changed. Just compare when he is talking about MT and training and so on, he is so irritating and unlistenable but here he is calmer, doesn’t use his voice so expressively, doesn’t emphasise that much in a sentence etc. This to me shows he is actually craving after something more, something deeper, something serious. Not just talking about his ties and blueberry smoothies. I don’t think is dumb (I think he has dumb choices thought) I think he could be more both as an actor both as an individual because when he was talking about the book I felt he has a true, genuine interest and it was a one-second opportunity to talk about something interesting not just fart powder.  

I feel his interest in stoicism is an attempt to validate why he is oppressing his feelings. I am sure he does this because he is uncomfortable with his feelings, past and present. For example, I think instead of the bullying his main trauma is being sent away from home to a boarding school and experiencing cold treatment from his mom (the infamous stop calling story). But he oppressing this because I guess all of his brothers he is looking up to loves their mom and he feels he needs to be a good son but questioning his mom means he is a bad one. So instead of admitting that he is hurt and damaged by it he is saying the bullying was his worst experience. 

This means to me he doesn’t understand stoicism, ancient or modern he just wants and moreover, he needs something he can hold and cling to, something that gave himself meaning. As a book’s title says: Man’s search for meaning. And I feel HC does this maybe a little bit desperately. Searching for the answers and this moment he thinks stoicism is the key to finding what he is looking for while in reality, the main problem is he doesn’t ask the right questions. And without them, he won’t find any answer. Or meaning. 

Title quote from Seneca

#pmitarotreadings

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

Girl not everyone can relate to Taylor's music and that's fine. Some of us grew up fat,queer,without a "patriarch" to which we have to prove our femininity for. And some of us don't give a fuck about our father.

It's alright.

Lmao ok anon.

I wasn't talking about Taylor specifically, I was talking about a more general experience with how I tend to abstract stories and concepts down to their barebone emotions and principals to make sense of them. I was just using a recent example to explain it.

Also I REALIZE it's not a universal feeling, that was the point of my post? Very often, when someone explains something to me I'll say "Oh I understand it's like [seemingly very unrelated thing]" and they'll be taken aback and maybe half get what I mean, but I swear up and down that the moment I connected those two things I understood.

Like, the reason I'm into things like analysing the relationship John and Paul had is that, despite their life circumstances being insanely different from my own, I still mostly see some Fundamental Truth about what it means to love someone and connect with them and feel betrayed by them within their story.

And what I'm trying to express is I've recently been learning that that experience of feeling like every situation can be boiled down and then compared to almost every other situation is pretty uncommon.

#ask #anon

[volturicangetit]

A.V/J.V- Loved at last

Summary: After getting rejected by your imprints, Emmett and Rosalie, you needed a fresh start. So you go to Italy where you meet two interesting vampires. Maybe they can show you what’s it’s like to be loved.

Reqeust: YES/no @rexburn12​  : Where Male Reader Was Banished From La Push For Imprinting On Emmett, and Rosalie They Reject Him Which Almost Kills Him, and Makes Reader Extremely Sad and Reader Moves To Volterra, Italy To Work As A Mechanic. Alec and Jane Smell A Amazing Scent They Follow It To See Their Mate Reader At Home Who Looks Sad Which Makes Them Growl in Anger and It Catches Reader's Attention He Looks At Them, and Imprints On Them Making Him Shocked. Since Imprinting Is A One Time Thing For Shifters.

Warnings: swearing, self hate

Wordcount: 3226

A/N: I’m turning 17 tomorrow ( may 19 )! I can’t really celebrate my birthday but at least I can celebrate it with my parents and siblings. Also I’m born on the same day as Jojo Siwa so that....nice?

PART TWO

MASTERLIST

Saying that you ' hate yourself ' can't even express the amount of disgust you feel towards yourself. You know that it's something you can't control, something that isn't a choice. But still feel like it's your fault that you imprinted on not one, but two vampires. You didn't even know that it was possible to imprint on something that died decades ago. The fact that they both rejected you didn't help. You knew that they wouldn't love you but you were hoping to at least be friends.

" You fucking what? " Rosalie screams at the top of her dead lungs. You flinch as she takes a step towards you, lowering your head. " They can't control it, " Carlisle tries to reason, but Rosalie and Emmett ignore him. You feel Emmet wrap his hands around you and lift you off the ground. Within a second you're outside of the house where he roughly pushes you onto the ground, right into the mud. You sit there on your hands and knees trying to regain yourself which is very fucking difficult when your covered in mud and getting soaked slowly by the rain pouring down on you. It was like the universe wanted you to suffer even more.

" Did you seriously think that we would accept you? You're a fucking dog. " Rosalie says as she and Emmet are standing on their porch. It's only now that you see the contrast between you all. They're standing dry in their expensive house while you're laying in the mud, which comforts you for some odd reason. You stand up quickly, pushes some of the rain of off your face.

" Please, you know I wouldn't have come here if I could just go without you. ". Your voice cracks at every word. You came here vulnerable and onto the land of your enemies. If Sam knows that you're here, he will rip your head off. Emmett shakes his head but doesn't say anything. He can't bring himself to do so. Sure, he wants to scream at you. To yell some words at you he knows he's going to regret but it's like his mind has shut off. Rosalie, on the other hand, can't stop the words from flowing out. " Go away, you disgusting thing. "

You let yourself slide down the side onto the floor of your shower. The water streaming down onto your already burning skin is way too hot, yet you don't care. You don't deserve nice warm showers. No, you deserve scolding hot showers that makes your skin feel like it's going to fall off. A sob breaks out of your body, causing your shoulder to rumble along with it. You tried so hard to stop yourself from crying. But now you let it all out. Every emotion, every pent up bit of anger, every sad thought. It all comes it whether you want it to or not. Whines and groans come out of your mouth along with the sobs. You know the other pack members can hear you, not just crying, but also through your mental bond. Their voices and questions of concern are being blocked out by you. The only thing you can hear if your own sobbing and a dull ringing in your ears.

You don't know how long you've sat in the shower, but you do know that you're going to have a ridiculously high water bill this month. When you get out of the shower and have gotten dressed in a simple pair of sweat pants and a sweater you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stop in your track and stare at your own reflection. Your face seems foreign to you. Your normally gleeful eyes are now puffy and look so sickly that you might as well be dead. Your lips are broken from all the screaming and biting at them you've done. It looks weird to see yourself look so broken, but then again, it is said that rejection by your imprint is sometimes not even survived. " What's going on? ". You jump a little as you quickly turn around to see Paul standing behind you. He's leaning against the doorframe, glancing between you and the mirror. " Nothing, you lie. ".

" Oh, come one. We can hear your thoughts, remember? " he says as he taps his temple with his pointer finger. You nod, still looking down at the ground. When you remain quiet, Paul sighs and pulls you into a hug. You freeze at first. He never hugged you, or anyone for that matter. " Those bloodsuckers rejected you? ". You nod as you bury your face into his chest. You needed this. A hug, to help ground you and get you back to reality. " They don't deserve you, you know? ".

" I think I...I think I need to go away for a while, " you keep your voice soft while you speak to try and keep it from cracking. Paul nods before he lets his chin rest on top of your head. " How about Italy? The weather is a lot better there. I know some people there, " Paul suggests. You pull him closer to you. Italy. Nice, warm Italy. Away from Emmett and Rosalie, away from the pack. It will hurt like shit, but it's the best for you. A fresh start. A normal life. No vampires living right next door, no pack fights, no drama between Jacob, Bella and Edward. Just you and Italy. " Yeah, it sounds nice, "

---

Two months. Two months without cloudly Forks. It has done you good. Extremely good. You didn't realize how depressed that place made you until you left. The moment you felt the comforting Italian sun hit your skin was the moment you knew you made the right choice. You didn't talk to Paul's friends a lot. You got a place of your own after a couple of weeks, due to how small the town was everyone who was trying to sell their house was practically begging you to buy their house. You picked up your hobby of tinkering again, now using to be a mechanic though. The town needed one so you were happy to oblige. It was refreshing to have new faces around and a new environment. The sadness that once had its grip on your has disappeared, now only present in dark memories.

You pick up an apple that is laying on your kitchen table before making your way out of your house and towards your work. Not many costumers would come in, if at all. A festival is being celebrated in a nearby town. Naturally, almost everyone in the village has gone there to have a party. You didn't want to do that though, be around people and all. Plus this new free time would give you time to catch up with work and make some preparations for the next day. The walk to your work is short, yet you still enjoy it every day. Back in Forks, you hated the sound of the birds singing but here you enjoy it so much. The birds sing a different song here. One of joy instead of sadness.

" Buongiorno, " you say to your coworker as you walk into the store. Your Italian is far from perfect but it's getting better every day. " Come va? " your coworker, Piero, asks. " Bene. And you? ". He just nods at you with a smile before he resumes to fix what looks like a clock. You really couldn't tell though, most things that come to the store for fixing are broken beyond recognition. You sit down at your workspace and take in the mess that is laying before you. You need to clean that, definitely. You have enough time today to do so anyways

Going for a stroll through the city isn't something the twins would normally do but today was an exception. A sudden rainstorm has been hovering over the area, blocking out the sun and allowing them to go outside without fear. That and the fact that most inhabitants of San Cipriano were now in Volterra for the festival. They dressed down, replacing their usual robes with a dress in Jane's case and jeans and a sweater for Alec. They talked about normal things like the new store that just opened up down the block and books they've read. It feels nice to them to feel so normal. Anyone who saw them would think that they are just a brother and sister enjoying the cool afternoon weather and not two vampires who work for the three kings.

" They have this machine that can induce dreams, " Alec says as he tries to explain the plot of ' Inception ' to Jane. She nods as she only half listens to his story, more focussed on watching a group of children play hide and seek on the other side of the road. The two siblings are sitting on a bench right next to the cemetery, ironically enough. " Sounds fascinating, " Janes says.

Alec nods before resuming his explanation. Jane enjoys seeing her brother so happy. They were both way too serious for their age, not having enjoyed their childhood years as they should have. Seeing him so passionate and happy about something surely put a smile on her face. Alec stops his words however when a sudden gust of winds blows a particularly sweet smell towards them. Both siblings look at each other as they inhale the scent. " Apple, " Jane says

" And rust. Delicious, " Alec adds. Jane slowly points towards the direction of your store. Alec nods and stands up from the bench, getting what his sister means. Both twins slowly stroll to your shop, they want to see who this scent is coming from but at the same time are to content to feel any sort of rush.

The sound of a bell ringing notifies you that someone entered the shop. " Un momento! " you call out from the back of the shop. You quickly wipe the oil that has been building up of your hands with a cloth before making your way to the front of the store to help the new costumers out. The moment you lay your eyes on the twins is when the world stops. You'd be lying to say that they aren't beautiful. Every birthmark on their skins seems so perfect that it has had to be placed there by the angels themselves. A sudden rush of adrenaline fills your body. Every detail about them become highlighted. You know this feeling, you know what this means. You didn't think you could imprint again but here you are, imprinting on the twins. Apparently, your wolf seems to have a preference for imprinting on duos. " I...I...Can I.... ". Your mind can't seem to form words at the moment. It's too busy with taking the twins in, to memorise every single thing about them.

The moment your mind starts to get clearer, you can start to smell them. The dry, campfire-like smell that comes of them suddenly starts to make sense. Vampire. Of course, you had to imprint on vampires again. Jane and Alec also caught the hint of dog and forest in your scent, both realizing that they're in deep shit now. They know you're their mate, they didn't need to notify the other on it. The way they both feel this need to protect you and the way your scent has intoxicated them both said enough. " You're our mate, " Jane says softly. Her usually cold and stern voice now sounds honey sweet.

The realisation of the whole situation only seems to be catching up to you now. The whole two months you spent here, trying to rebuild your life and your mental health seems to be for nothing now. They will reject you. Those words seem to float around your head. You shake your head softly, feeling tears pricking up into your eyes. You take a couple of steps back and away from them. " I-I'm sorry. I can't. Not now, " you say before disappearing into the back of the shop and leaving the confused twins behind in the shop.

You can feel your wolf aching under your skin, begging to be let out. You rush out of the store through the backdoor. You chose your place of work strategically, right next to the forest, which you are very thankful for right now. You let your walls down and let the wolf in you come forth. The ache under your skin stops as your shift begins. Within seconds you're in your wolf form. Tall and frightening for most you stand there for a second, looking back at the store before making a run for it and into the forest. You sit there in your own mind, drowning in your own thoughts as the wolf takes control of your body. Normally, you would try to at least have a sliver of self-control, not now, however. Now you want nothing more than to get lost into the woods.

It doesn't feel like your in your own body, it feels like your floating above it. Memories is all your seeing. Rosalie and Emmett screaming at you. The disgusted looks in their eyes and the harsh words them threw at you without a second thought. They'll do the same. You're sure of it. How could a vampire ever love you? How could someone ever love you?

---

Wet grass brushes against your cheek. The prominent smell of dirt and daisies fills your nose. Slowly, you open your eyes. You're laying on your back, which you only realize now. You stare up at the dark sky above you. The sun is long gone. Now it's replaced by the moon and a thousand stars. It must be later than three a.m. Maybe even later. You should probably move and get inside before you catch a cold but you can't bring yourself to do so. You're to mentally and physically drained from your shift earlier this evening. After regaining yourself, you finally find the strength to get up from the grass. Every bone in your body aches as you stand up for the first time in hours. You stretch a little, getting used to your human form again. Slowly but surely you walk to your front door. The warmth that meets you the moment you open your door falls over you like a blanket. Sudden tiredness washes over you. You let out a jawn as you walk over to your living room, reading to crash on your couch.

Instead of an empty couch, you find two vampires sitting on it, the same there were in the shop earlier. " What are you doing on my house? " you ask. Your body fills with adrenaline again. A warm fuzz fills your brain now that you're around your imprints. " I'm Jane, ". You nod at her statement.

" Cool, and I'm very fucking confused about why you're in my house. ". Both twins laugh a little at your joke. " You got humour in you, alright. " Alec says. You nod, slowly walking a little more towards them. You hate that you're so drawn to them. They like us. You stop in your steps. Why could you hear Jane's thoughts? Is this another part of this weird vampire-imprint thing?

" I'm sure that you have some question, " Alec begins. You cut him off before he can finish his sentence thought. " Yeah like why two members of the Volturi are in my house. ". Both look at you with big eyes, confused as to how you know them. You throw your arms up in the air. " Oh come one, I lived in the same town as the Cullens! You guys came over like every other weekend for Bella and Edward! ".

You sit down on your couch. Letting your elbows rest on your knees so your hands can hold your head up. You let out a deep sigh. Why did this kind of shit always happen to you? " Look, I know you won't want me and that's fine. Just break the news to me, we don't have to tiptoe around it, " you say, just trying to get them to get to the point. Alec's hand is suddenly underneath your chin. He angles your head in a way so that you're looking up at him. " You think we don't want you? ". You nod.

" No, don't ever think that, " Jane says as she sits down beside you. " It's maybe a bit...unusual to have a wolf as a mate but we definitely want you. If you want us. ". You can't help the small smile from spreading onto your face. They want you. They didn't reject you or call you a dog. " Of course I want you, have you seen yourself? You're both hot. ". The twins send each other a smile. Jane gets up from the couch and stands in front of you next to Alec. She holds her hand out for you to grab. " Come home with us. ". You nod at her before grabbing her hand. Finally, you can go to a home where you're loved.

---

The ringing of the phone seems to go on so long that you're afraid you're calling won't be picked up. You wanted to call home, to tell them how well you're doing. You just hope that someone will pick up. Finally, the call gets picked up. " Hello? " Seth says on the other side of the line. " Seth! " you call out happily. The annoyance in his voice is gone in an instant and replaced by happiness. " Y/n! You called! How are you? ".

" Better than ever, " you say happily, glancing over at Jane and Alec who is standing on the other side of the room talking to Demitri and Felix. You know that they are probably listing along to your call but you don't care. " I'm really good. I um...I imprinted again. ". You wait anxiously for Seth's response. " Really? That's great! Who is it? ".

You and Seth continue to talk for another thirty minutes. Back home things are going great for him and the pack as well. Apparently, Emmett and Rosalie are really sorry but you couldn't care less about them. Not now that you have Jane and Alec. " It was nice to talk to you again. Give my greetings to the rest, yeah? Bye-bye. ". You hang up the call. Within a second, Jane and Alec are standing next to you, both giving you a questioning look.

" He's happy for me. Really happy, " you say with a bright smile on your face. Alec grabs your hand and gives you a kiss on top of your knuckles. " See, I know he would be. ". You nod at his comment. You stand there for a moment before pulling both the twins in for a hug. They wrap their arms around you. Sure, it's a little awkward to hug with three people, but it's comforting at the same time. You take in their scent. At first, you hated the smell of vampire but now it smells like home. You feel happy, truly and utterly happy. Maybe someone could love you after all.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST:

@scuzmunkie​ @thanossexual​ @prettyinblack231​

#alec #alec volturi imagine #alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #jane #jane volturi #jane volturi x reader #jane volturi imagine #twilight imagine #twilight #twilight fanfic #twilight x reader #volturi #volturi x reader #volturi imagine #italy #emmett x reader #emmett cullen x reader #Rosalie x reader #Rosalie cullen x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #imagine #cameron bright #cameron bright x reader #dakota fanning #dakota fanning x reader

[tocrackerboxpalace]

Le Rêve - Part 6

Summary: After an unproductive studio session, George and Ringo leave in a hurry. John later returns to find his glasses and another unwelcome surprise.

Things were different now.

Not entirely—they still had the band, the songwriting partnership, the united front for the media and press. It’s just that now, the tour was completed with determination and efficiency, becoming just another box to check off. Now, Paul relied much more heavily on George’s suggestions, and in a fit of jealousy or competition (Who could be sure? What was the difference?), John did the same. Now, Lennon-McCartney hardly wrote together and never wrote alone, needing George or Ringo to be in the space as a buffer.

When Paul had come back into the room that night, George knew he’d found John. He entered wordlessly, immediately throwing all of his belongings into his trunk, and George didn’t have the heart to ask where he was going. He and Ringo simply stared, too afraid to test the waters that were more tumultuous than they’d ever seen.

When Paul had finished packing, he’d looked pointedly at Ringo until the man understood. Ringo pushed himself up out of the armchair and followed him out of the room. He’d returned only minutes later with a sad smile in George’s direction that he assumed was meant to be reassuring, but instead was plain unsettling—a visual marker of the notion that something had changed within the group. Ringo had unpacked his things on Paul’s side, and that was that.

They weren’t allowed to talk about what happened. It was this unspoken rule, but a rule nonetheless—which was rather fine with George at first, anyway. But as time dragged on and the air grew no less hostile, George figured that he would rather talk about it for hours if it meant getting the old dynamic back. He was torn between two opposite poles of the spectrum, a futile effort of trying to please both Lennon and McCartney. There was a bitterness flourishing within him at the recognition of his usefulness only when they didn’t need each other. But objectively speaking, he was given more say, more credit, more songs. He couldn’t complain. Or he shouldn’t complain.

Something about the unspoken rule led George and Ringo not to talk about it with each other, either. George knew Ringo was absolutely dying to; at every uncomfortable or unnatural interaction between John and Paul, George knew a concerned glance from Ringo was coming his way. Ringo needed to talk about things, and George felt right guilty in deliberately ignoring the desire. He was just holding out hope that if no one addressed it in any context, the universe would wash away that it even happened, and the band—their livelihoods—would live on.

The quick succession of knuckles against the side of his head jerked him out of his daydream (nightmare?).

“Hello?” Ringo quipped. “Anyone home?”

George scowled and slumped deeper into his seat. “Barely.”

He and Ringo had been dicking about in the studio for the past half-hour. It was just the two of them—Paul hadn’t shown up, and John, already in a sour mood for the day, had cursed the man under his breath and stalked off. That had been about an hour ago, and when John didn’t return, the remaining boys gave up trying to focus. After a brief quarrel over who dropped the ball on bringing the marbles and playing cards, Ringo suggested a friendly competition over who could butcher “She Loves You” on their respective instruments in a funnier fashion. Which, credit where credit was due, was incredibly entertaining; only minutes before now, George had been rolling on the ground in laughter when Ringo had seemingly pulled a bicycle horn from his arse and honked it in place of the famed McCartney-Harrison “Ooh’s”.

However, as many things do when one has an attention span of about two minutes, the game soon grew tired—the song was only so long—and the pair had resorted to quiet, mindless fiddling on their instruments. In turn, the lapse into silence and thought had led George down his aforementioned neuro-rabbithole.

“Are you all right?” Ringo questioned, lifting an eyebrow in his direction. “Y’just seem a bit… off lately, I dunno.” There was an urge there, a pull. Ringo was nearly leaned forward off his chair.

“Off how?” George mused, entertaining the idea a bit. His tone was light, but his expression was stern. It was clear that they were both acknowledging the Unspoken Thing; it was also clear that it would remain as such.

Ringo bit his lip and shrugged back, evidently noting George’s reservations. “Y’know. Quiet-like. At least, more so than usual.”

George scoffed at the referenced nickname. The Quiet Beatle. As if! Give him a question worth answering, and they’d see who the quiet one was then. Certainly not him. “I’ve just got a lot on me mind,” he muttered, lifting a shoulder.

“You’re more in demand than before,” Ringo pointed out bluntly.

A rub of the temples didn’t do much to soothe the stress in his body. The weight of the emotional and mental burdens he’d carried over the last few weeks was beginning to settle on his shoulders with Ringo’s prodding. A sudden exhaustion clouded over him. “I know.”

“Is that bad?”

George looked at his friend with dull eyes. “Should it be?”

He didn’t need an answer, but it still stung a bit not to get one.

After a long beat of silence, Ringo hastily changed the subject. “Maybe we should call it quits for the day,” he suggested with a half-hearted grin, tapping the bass drum lightly and modestly. It was almost a tick at this point, the drummer seemingly wholly unaware of his actions.

George decided to play along with the shift in energy. “I agree, Ritchie. Feels a bit useless without Their Royal Highnesses around to conduct us,” he added with a roll of the eyes and a giggle.

Ringo hummed in agreement. “Oh, John, oh, Paul, please save us! We can’t even remember what album we’re supposed to be working on!” He cackled at his own joke.

“Help!, isn’t it?” George partly ignored the dramatic flair and turned to flick off the amp. He caught Ringo’s sparkling stare as he reached to unplug his Rickenbacker.

“No, mate. We’ve done that one already. Y’know, the whole ‘film’ bit?”

George blinked. “Right.”

“George Harrison, foremost Beatles expert,” Ringo chided. He glared reproachfully at an imaginary camera. “Don’t do drugs, kids.”

“Piss off!” George tried to glower, overruled by the laughter in his voice. Ringo offered him a hand and pulled him up out of the chair.

“Fancy a smoke?”

George’s lips drew into a wide grin. Based on the context, he knew exactly what kind of smoke he was implying. “Race ya to the car.”

—

“Mind telling me where everyone ran off to?”

Paul lifted an accusatory gaze in John’s direction as the man entered the room, his brow deeply furrowed in concentration.

“How should I know?” John answered, scanning the room fervently. His eyes hadn’t met Paul’s yet, Paul noted with a twinge of annoyance.

“Was there not a session today?” Paul hinted, irked by the idea that John too may have tried to skip out. Sure, Paul had been late, but at least he’d intended on coming.

John paused for a moment, shooting him a critical glare. “You tell me.”

He didn’t feel like trying to defend himself.

After a long moment of staring expectantly, John realized he wasn’t going to get an answer. He huffed and returned to his search, tipping over a chair to peer underneath it.

Paul rolled his eyes and offered the glasses at arm’s length, clearing his throat to draw the attention. John blushed and hurried over to snatch them up. He quickly stuffed them back into his pocket.

In response to the twinge of curiosity in his gaze, Paul only shrugged. “Left ‘em on the settee over there, you did. Just figured you would return for them sooner or later.”

John grunted in response.

Paul raised an eyebrow as the man began to head for the door. “All right, then. Mind at least telling me where you’re running off to?”

“I just came back for me glasses.”

“Came back?”

“You weren’t there,” John muttered, nearly inaudible. “I left.”

Paul stiffened, viciously reprimanding the sentimental twitch his heart gave to John’s response. “’M just late. Got caught up in traffic, is all.”

It was a silly excuse. John quirked an eyebrow at the boldfaced lie, knowing good and well Cavendish was barely a ten-minute walk. Paul watched him chew his lip for a moment before deciding to let it be.

Paul accepted John’s compliance graciously and returned to tuning his bass. His skin prickled as he felt John’s eyes on him, watching him closely. Tensions were still incredibly high between them, on account of the thing-that-happened-but-“never-happened”—and it was taking a lot of getting used to. The feeling was unsettling; time and again Paul would have to physically restrain himself, ignoring the twitching desire in his hand to touch John or biting back a witty comment that only John would understand. The emotional connection they’d had was gone, or at least dormant, and Paul couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was going through that thick head anymore. It even seemed that Ringo and George had a better guess than him.

It was miserable, really, having to pretend that everything was just dandy. There had been a substantial amount of press upon return from the tour, which was more of an irritation than anything else. There, he could slide into his Paul McCharmly persona, the façade already being somewhat of a character. The lie got quite easy to live when one was already acting. But the media circus was relatively quiet now (as it would ever be), and the hardest part was trying to pretend in front of the three people that knew him better than anyone else alive.

He wasn’t even sure who the pretending was for anymore. It certainly did nothing to quiet his mind or soul.

“What are you working on?” It was a half-arsed effort at conversation, but an effort nonetheless.

“Nothing, yet,” Paul answered, frowning in the direction of his instrument. “I’ve got a bit—real simple, for ‘Wait’. Might add some flare to it, might finish it. Might run it through and absolutely hate it and scrap it. Who knows,” he concluded, almost to himself.

“I think we should talk.” John’s voice, quiet, low.

Paul glanced up at him with a start, desperately trying to mask the surprise on his face. John was looking at him with an odd expression on his face, something Paul couldn’t quite put words to. Only then did he realize that it was the first time the two of them had been alone since the incident.

Heart pounding, he tensed. “When?”

“Now.” The answer was definitive.

“About what?” Paul responded sheepishly.

John’s eyes flashed.

Let’s just forget it ever happened.

Paul felt a sudden wave of stubbornness wash over him, feeling hollow at the abrupt activation of the memory. Of course he couldn’t fucking forget it happened. He couldn’t, and he shouldn’t be expected to. None of them should. Paul noticed the sad, wondering gazes from the other bandmates as well. Sweeping it under the rug had been wholly counterproductive to the entire group (though he didn’t entirely want to test the alternative, either). Best case scenario, the whole thing wouldn’t have happened.

But it did. And life was infinitely worse now because of it.

Paul swallowed hard. This was all John’s fault. Paul could have kept the dream a secret for the rest of his life. A few shameful wanking sessions was probably all it would take to get over it, and while he might look at John a bit differently after, at least John wouldn’t be looking at him differently. About a week of awkwardness would likely ensue, and John would make some offhand comment about how Paul was acting queer, and the two would laugh it off, only one of them knowing how much truth the comment carried. It was John’s fault, because Paul could have figured it out on his own.

“You know what,” John answered coldly.

John wanted to be cold? Paul could do cold. “I really don’t,” he countered with sickeningly false innocence. “What’s got you all worked up, Johnny?”

“Fuck off, Paul, you know what I’m talking about. Don’t try to fuckin’ skirt around it anymore.”

Paul’s heart was hammering in his throat, the blood rushing in his ears. After weeks of drowning in his own head, hearing the words come out of John’s mouth so… dismissively was blindingly infuriating. He had been driving himself mad trying not to talk about it, to think about it, to feel it. He’d shoved the memory down with so much force he’d thought his soul would pop, only to watch it helplessly bubble back to the surface. There was no forgetting it, and there was no addressing it. And now, John was breaking the number one Unspoken Rule of the Unspoken Thing like he never gave a shit about them in the first place.

“Skirting ar-? I’m not skirting around anything. I’m truly blanking, Johnny.” He paused, throat too constricted to swallow the massive lump in it. “Are you sure it’s not something I was supposed to forget?” The comment didn’t have near the effect Paul had hoped.

“Every conversation’s got to turn into a fuckin’ brawl with you, doesn’t it?” John crossed his arms, looking like nothing more than a pissed-off older sibling.

Paul was beside himself. His voice cracked, the words coming out in a near-shriek, but he was so furious that it hardly mattered. “With me? Every conversation is a brawl with me?”

“D’you need to bloody hear it again?” John looked minorly inconvenienced. If he’d had a watch on, he’d be sure to check it right now lazily. His demeanor was utterly vexatious, awakening feelings Paul didn’t even know he had. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this upset with someone.

“You think you get some type of medal, standing up in front of me and acting like none of this matters?” Paul was on his feet now, openly striding towards him. Startled, John stumbled backward a step before smacking his back against the wall. “You want a bleeding award?” Paul raised his tone an octave and fluttered his eyelashes dramatically, a mockery on all levels: “Oh, John, you’re so stony and brave, I bet nothing ever rattles my big, strong man!”

“Fuck you,” John whispered, his eyes begging the conversation to slow down. But Paul was on a roll now, and he’d be damned if he didn’t let out all of the pent-up pain John and John alone had caused over the last few weeks.

“No, fuck you. Do you know how hard it’s been? News flash, John. Not everything is about how you feel. Hard to believe, I know.” John opened his mouth to speak, but Paul cut him off. He was practically on him now, pushing John against the wall as he helplessly cowered under Paul’s alarming tirade.

“Do you know how hard it’s been for me? Trying to figure out if I’m a goddamn queer because of you? And how about the sleepless nights, eh? You’ve had those too, I know it.” A sick sense of pride effloresced in Paul’s chest as John’s eyes shot wide with recognition. “Lying in bed and wondering if you’re not who you thought you were. Wondering what when wrong along the way to make you this way, and what the hell you can do about it now. It’s maddening. And you took my right to get an answer, John.” Paul’s voice broke a bit at the next part. “Talking to you was my only hope at figuring this out and you took it away from me. And now we can’t talk about anything anymore.”

When John started to speak again, Paul lifted a final triumphant hand in his face. “I’m not done. Because let me tell you, Lennon, I don’t care if you need to bawl it out or never think about it again. But don’t stand here and fucking bullshit me like this. I know you.”

John straightened against the wall, eyes flashing with a hatred that almost made Paul’s knees buckle. “You don’t have a bloody clue what’s bullshit. Your whole foundation is bullshit. You’re not pissed at me because you’re upset that our pretty union wasn’t consummated, and thus I robbed you of a chance to explore this bit of newfound sexuality.” John’s tone was mocking, saturated with pretentiousness and exaggeration. “You’re pissed at me because I was just another shag you didn’t get to fully add to your sexual conquests. Grow the fuck up, Paul. You want to talk about knowing each other? I know you. You’re the one who’s bullshitting yourself, not me.”

Attacking John back felt like a safer bet than trying to defend himself. “Like you were there for some miraculous consummation? Some beautiful, heart-wrenching dénouement to a tragic love story? You’re full of it. Don’t come for me like you had some higher ground to speak from. We’re not special, John. We don’t have some kind of cosmic soulmate connection where we can read each other’s minds and desires. You and I, as anything, aren’t going to live happily ever after. Go buy into some other fuckin’ fantasy.”

“You were a mistake,” John spat.

“Mistakes happened,” Paul concluded. “I didn’t.”

John gaped at him as Paul pushed off. His chest was heaving, tight with unrestrained breaths, looking like a cornered animal. Though it was impossible to explain, Paul watched in real time as something shattered in John’s soul. He didn’t know what it was, and it didn’t seem like John knew, either. Paul turned on his heel before he could give the sight any more thought.

“You told me to forget it. So that’s what I’m doing. For good.” Paul stalked back to where his guitar lay on the ground. He began to gather his belongings and pack up for the day. “This conversation is over.”

“So that’s it? You don’t want to talk about it?” John called out to him, planting himself in the doorway as Paul made for the exit.

“Get out of the way, John.”

He held his ground and spoke honestly for the first time in a long, long time. “You’re not gonna talk about it, yeah? That’s fine. Fuckin’ beautiful. I’ll talk about it. I love you.”

#the beatles #beatles fanfiction #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #part 6 #chapter fic #ao3 #more angst #there's a happy ending coming soon i promise

[silentxxsoul]

The “I’m unprepared for this lone star wee woo and have zero idea wtf is going on” reaction dump

I legit have no idea what’s going on because I’ve seen all of 5 episodes oh well

Idk what fuckface “not Charlie swan”’s hard on for Owen is but can they just fuck and get over themselves?

Also, honey of course that ice isn’t stable y’all are in Austin and it’s a freeze, there hasn’t been enough time for it to stabilize

Idk about this tarlos setback again but can y’all let them LIVE

Marjan cuffing herself to the 126 🥺😂 and then it snows on lord 😂😂😂

MY BBY CARLOS 🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰 even tho your cuffing her. This poor dude always having to arrest his friends.

Honestly I just want nothing but Carlos, Marjan, Paul, Mateo, and the Ryder fam 💛💛💛 I love grace so muchhhhhh and can’t wait for the Ryder baby I was bitching about by episode 5 of the first season. Wish I knew what happened in between haha

STOP HURTING THE TARLOS PLS I BEG YALL

Wait are Mateo and paramedic lady (Nancy?????) making eyes eyes 👀👀

Ngl that ice thing has me fucked up

Listen idk what Crusty Ass McGee’s name is, and I don’t wanna know it but fuck if he’s still here idk if k want to watch the episodes I’ve missed. I cannot express to y’all how much I don’t t like this mf

STOP STIRRING THE POT YOU GASBAGGING DICK FACE

Also cut your damn hair old ass 🙄

Like, seriously he practically got what he wanted and since he didn’t have the cavalry around him he’s got to keep poking and poking? Fuck offffffff

Can we talk about the half frozen kid in the beginning? Like he’s been under water for a while, and we all know Jack didn’t survive so how the hell is that going to work out ???

Marjan didn’t come to fuck around damn get it girl

“The universe doesn’t speak” ok Eddie Diaz

Carlos’ eyes are a weapon good lord, the emotion Rafael packs into them is *chefs kiss*

I see they’re packing in the high steaks drama that the OG promised with the blackout. Might be unpopular but uh, LS is actually nailing that way better than the OG. Might be the considerable lack of creepy rapist storyline, but who’s to say.

Girrrrrrl the mystery is killing me too

TAKE THEM TO THE 126

I mean the furniture store is fine—OH AWKWARD TENSION YIKES

Save her 🥺

Oh damn I just realized the time, how is the ep already basically over ?!!!!!!

If they leave her rescue as a cliffy 😤🤬😤🤬😤

PAUL NOOOOOOOOO OMG WTF 10/10 DID NOT EXPECT THAT

Daaaaaamm. What an episode. Next week is gonna kill me emotionally, I can feel it.

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers

[pagingevilspawn]

Loving You Is A Losing Game- chapter seven

i actually hate this, so ew. but i’ve forgotten that i write, so i’ll try to type some stuff up tomorrow! regardless, i hope everyone enjoys! click here to read on ao3. 

TW// domestic abuse

~*~

"small town boy in a big arcade. i got addicted to a losing game."

~*~

alexandra: you do realize how crazy that sounds right?

joseph: it's not crazy at all if you ask me.

alexandra: jo, asking for lollipops for your christmas present sounds very crazy to me.

and christmas isn't for like, a while.

joseph: dude, christmas is in two weeks and one day

and plus, i'm settling on lollipops. what i really want is a pony, a shiny, pretty one with rainbow hair, you know those? that's my dream right there

alexandra: oh crap really?

yeah yeah, ha ha. laughing so much right now.

joseph: hate to break it to you, but it's the 10th alex.

and i know, what a shame i wont be able to have my pony. it was at the top of my list this year

next to an ice cream sundae the size of manhattan, obviously.

alexandra: very funny. can't you tell how much i'm laughing.

crap, got to go, robbins is letting me in on an esophageal atresia on a newborn. i'm her favorite you know.

joseph: ugh, lucky.

make sure to kick ass and not kill anyone. that would suck. 

actually... your big head could use some ego deflating. make sure robbins has to save you halfway through. maybe then you'll earn some humility.  

alexandra: wow, you're such great help. so nice too.

joseph: you know it ;)

she turns off her phone, a small smile on her face as she looks out the window, passing by houses that all looked exactly alike; white exteriors with a bright green lawn. the only thing that could help someone tell them apart was the door colors. her and paul had just come back from a dinner with some of his coworkers, but he wasn't talking to her so she decided to text alex. the silence in the car was tense, though she was unable to grasp the reason why.

they'd been texting non-stop since the conference three weeks ago, talking about each other's days, complaining about annoying coworkers and classmates. they really enjoyed having a friend they could just talk to because they felt like it. it was refreshing. they'd never had anyone like that before. in the past they had friends that they felt comfortable around, but it was different when you had someone who understood you so well. not to mention, being able to make self deprecating jokes about their crappy childhoods and receive a laugh in response was so much nicer than the pity stares they were both so used to getting,

she snaps back to reality at the sound of the engine turning off, cutting the music as the expensive car door opens. she sees paul angrily walk out of the car, slamming the door behind him, not stopping by her side of the car to open the door for her like he normally did. (she was actually thankful for that. she was a grown women, she could open a damn door herself)

weird, she thinks, but decides not to question it. her husband had been a bit more moody and temperamental lately, so she supposed it was just that. but the dinner seemed to go really good in her opinion. she got along with his colleagues and paul certainly enjoyed himself, getting to be around all his coworkers and interact freely. she liked to think that his colleagues liked her as well. they complimented her all evening and included her in all of their conversations. though, she did wish that they would've referred to her by her name more, rather than 'mrs. stalder' or 'paul's wife.'

she gets out of the passenger side and shuts the door behind her, walking up to the steps after she hears that paul had locked the car. she places the small clutch she had on the entry table and walks to the kitchen, seeing paul sitting at the kitchen island, nothing in front of him except tea that he had heated up in the minute or so he'e been in there. she kisses his cheek and starts talking, knowing that it would probably help calm whatever he was feeling.

she gives him a smile, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. "it seemed like the dinner went really well, all of your coworkers are super nice and-"

"you talked to steven too much." he cuts her off, sending an icy glare her way, and look she had never seen on him before shining darkly in his eyes.

she cocks her head to the side, "huh?"

he stands up from his place abruptly, making her jump back slightly. "i said," he spits out, eyes narrowing as he stares her down "you talked to steven too much."

she lets out a loud laugh, thinking that he was just joking around and messing with her. at any second he was going to join her giggling, ignoring the way his eyes had only seemed to darken the second the sounds had escaped her mouth."oh, that's funny." she says in between laughs, eyes shining with childish glee. "jesus you really scared m-"

pain.

her words get cut off by a fist coming directly into contact with her face. she feels the stinging sensation burn from her eye to her cheek, her brown eyes watering with tears as she realizes what had just happened. she lifts a palm up to touch it protectively, almost making it seem like it was more real if she touched it.

oh god, it hurt. it hurt like hell. his gold wedding band adding to the impact was sure to leave a scar by the corner of her eye. she'd been punched before, multiple times actually by foster parents and girls while she was in high school, but this hurt so much more. it was so much harder than she'd ever been hit before.

her husband just hit her.

"oh brooke, baby." paul says, taking her into his arms and brushing her hair back immediately, trying to get her to relax into his embrace. "i just got so mad. you just made me so mad brooke. you can't make me mad like that" he tells her, eyes dripping with some kind of emotion she can't place as he places light kisses on top of her sea of brown curls, ignoring the way the way she stood stiffly in his arms, a few lone tears making it's way down her cheeks.  

"i love you. you know that brooke" he whispers, wiping the tears from her face, his hands feeling usually rough against her skin, his touch not easing over the bruise that hard already begun to form.

she nods. it was okay. he loved her. he didn't mean it. he just got angry. it was okay. it was fine. he loved her, it was okay.

she thought she probably deserved it. after all she'd cheated on her husband just three weeks before, and had continued to keep in contact with the man she had cheated with. it was only karma.  

"i'm sorry paul." she apologizes sincerely as he cups her face in his hands, giving her a sweet smile. it wasn't his fault. it was hers.  

"it just better not happen again." he states, eyes burning into hers intently, his grip on her face tightening without her even realizing it. all she really felt was numb, as if all of her senses had seemingly shut down to avoid dealing with the pain that was spreading throughout the side of her face.

she nods her head up and down as she pulls her back into him. "i'm sorry" she whispers into his chest.

he smiled.

and that's when he knew he had her.

____

alex finished scrubbing out of a surgery, shaking off the excess water on his hands, grinning internally. it was always so much better when he was able to help save a kid. the success was just that much more fulfilling. he's about to push the door open when it swings in itself, making him come face to face with cristina, the expression she was wearing was more worried looking than he'd seen in a long time. he'd known yang for a while know, and he knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth would be bad. cristina yang was never worried.

"what do you want yang?" he asks, noting how she had her hands crossed over her chest and was avoiding his gaze.

"there's a merger happening." she says, looking up to meet his eyes to let him know that she was serious.

his narrows his eyes, scrunching up his nose. "what?" he questions. a merger? as in, combing two hospitals into one?  

"you just missed the announcement. apparently we're merging with mercy west." the raven head repeats, a slight trace of fear in her voice, a very unusual thing for cristina yang.

he lets out a deep breath, tugging his scrub cap off and running a hand through his hair as he leans over the scrub sink, gripping it so tightly his knuckles begin to turn white. "i can't loose this job yang." he says to her softly, making her nod in agreement.

"you and me both." with that she walks out of the room, alex not far behind her, both of the surgeons heading up to the resident's lounge to change, which was filled to the brim with chatter, all of the doctors talking about the newest topic, the merger.

meredith sits down next to him, slipping a long sleeved purple shirt over her head when she casts a glance to alex, who was sitting still looking down at his phone's empty screen, seemingly deep in thought, almost as if he was waiting for something to magically appear on it.

the blonde nudges him, snapping him out of his trance. alex sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he buries his head in his hands. "what am i gonna do about iz?" he asks her, judging by her face that she was drawing a blank, much like him.

jesus, this was great. these past few weeks he had hardy been able to look his wife in the eye, because every time he saw her he was reminded that he slept with someone else. not to mention, he was just texting that certain someone just a few hours ago. he was really screwed. izzie had currently been home on bedrest, not being allowed to return to work until two weeks from now, which apparently would also be when the mercy westers would turn up. fucking great. he felt as if the universe was rallying against him at this point, no matter how much he knew that wasn't possible. he dug his own grave, it was just a matter of time before he would need to lay in it.

"she'll be okay." meredith reassures him, but he can tell by the look on her face that she was unsure as well. who knew would end up getting cut? they would need to pull their heads out of their asses and prove that they deserved to stay. none of them could lose their spot. not only because of their job, but also because of the people there. they were a family. they couldn't lose any more of their family. they'd just lost george, and they couldn't lose another.

"evil spawn, put on a shirt!" cristina yells, balling up a shirt from his locker and throwing it at him, hitting him square in the chest as he glares at her. he pulls on the shirt silently and heads out, not bothering to say goodbye to anybody as he leaves the lounge and heads straight to joe's across the street.

he slides onto a barstool, ordering a beer and thanking the bartender with a slight nod of his head. how was he supposed to tell izzie about the merger? he knew that if his wife knew, she would want to return to work immediately, but he knew she couldn't do that. she was still getting her strength back, and standing around on her feet all day surely would delay the healing process. he couldn't risk her getting hurt because he wasn't able to stop her.

he'd done enough recently, even if izzie didn't know about most of it. the last thing he needed was to cause his wife more harm than he already had.

he was going to tell her, he knew that, just not right now. right now he was going to sit on this uncomfortable wooden bar stool and drink his beer and forget he had any problems. he was going to forget about the merger, he was going to forget about him and izzie going at it twenty-four seven, and he was definitely going to forget about the brunette with a fake name who seemed to be on his mind all the time.

he was just going to forget everything, his only focus being his beer and the football game on the small television above the bar. yeah, that sounded like a good idea. a really good idea.

____

okay, so he forgot about two out of those three things.

he was actually doing pretty good for a while, almost a full hour with nearly a beer and a half finished. all he had been focused on was the seahawks playing against the steelers, with the steelers crushing the seattle team thirty-four to seven. not much of a surprise though, he couldn't remember the last time he'd witnessed the seahawks win. it wasn't that they were a completely crap team, it was simply the fact that one; the steelers were much better this year, and two; he hardly ever got enough time to sit down and watch a game. being a resident drained the life out of him, especially since he had finally knew that he wanted to specialize in peds. when he wasn't at the hospital he was reading up new medical procedures in magazines, or occasionally sneaking over to meredith's to watch old ellis grey tapes.  

he was doing really... until he got a text message from jo.

joseph: how was your surgery?

alexandra: wow, you must be bored.

joseph: ...

what makes you say that?

alexandra: really?

joseph: i'm in med school, thank you very much. i have a severe interest in your surgeries. 

alexandra: mhm, sure.

joseph: fine, i'm bored. entertain me. please.

alexandra: that sounds vaguely dirty.

joseph: oh great. how drunk are you?

alexandra: what makes you say that?

haha, two can play that game.

joseph: i'm guessing two beers in?

alexandra: shut up, only one and a half.

joseph: mhm, wasn't too far off

but seriously. i'm bored and am in need of anything remotely interesting. you just scrubbed in on a super cool surgery, i want details

alexandra: fine, baby maria duboir, two weeks old, robbins let me lead the procedure about half way through, coded once, we then shocked her at 150, and now she is stable and in the NICU.

happy?

joseph: yes. very much so

although i do think your OR stories need work

you sound like you have absolutely no idea what you're talking about

alexandra

wow. you're a real delight you know that?

joseph: oh, believe me, i know. don't even get me started on how many times people have complimented how freaking amazing i am

it's quite a common occurrence.  

if i had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, i'd be living on my own private island

alexandra: i bet you would.

seriously though, tell me something. i've got nothing better to do than watch the seahawks get crushed.

joseph: i'm guessing that's sports talk, so i'm just gonna ignore that, since it hate any sport where men look like giant block of cheese, run around a court, or just run in general.

but today's been boring. went to a dinner tonight. fancy stuck-up rich people who laugh with posh accents and sip their champagne way too slowly

fucking turtles.

alexandra: sounds fun.

joseph: you suck. i can literally hear the sarcasm through the phone asshole

alexandra: that's the point. i'll take a sick kid over fancy dinner any day.

crap, that sounded really horrible didn't it?

joseph: it really did

"i'll take a sick kid over a fancy dinner any day" real charming if you ask me. night in shining amour.

alexandra

yeah yeah you know what i mean.

____

they're not sure how long they end up talking for, alex siting at joe's bar and jo lounging on the couch in her living room while her husband was in his study going over and grading tests for one of his classes. before either one of them even know it, it gets to be twelve thirty boston time and nine thirty in seattle. alex's texts had gotten much harder to read, which made sense, considering he was now on his third beer.

jo teased him about it though, finding it more enjoyable than she would've guessed to text a drunk alex than a sober one. he seemed to get increasingly flirtier the tipsier he got. not to mention, all the spelling mistakes he made was definitely one for the books. she had a feeling that it was getting a but harder for him to see which letters where which, considering a few b's were located where there should be d's, and 'm' where they should be an 'n'

alex knows for a fact he's earning many stares from fellow people at the bar because of how much he's laughing (loudly too), but he doesn't really care. if he's gonna laugh, he's gonna laugh. all he could really focus on was the fluorescent lights hanging from the bar's wood ceiling and the frankly hilarious texts coming through his phone. (okay, so they weren't that funny, but everything is always a lot more funny when you're drunk)

jo was thoroughly enjoying herself, laughing more and more as she sank into the couch, completely forgetting about the bruise on her left cheek as she typed away, grinning from ear to ear when the man on the other side responded, words misspelt and random numbers and semicolons popping up from time to time.

they knew that what they had done was wrong. they knew that what they were doing was wrong. but they couldn't stop.

if only they had stopped sooner.

#jolex #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jolex fanfiction #jo wilson #alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson karev #cristina yang #brooke stadler #paul stadler #meredith grey #joes bar #greys #greys anatomy #greys abc #greys anatomy fic #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy fanfiction #jo x alex #alex x jo #affair #loving you is a losing game #camilla luddington #justin chambers #jolex is endgame #screw 16x16 #payton writes

[dynamics-of-an-asteroid]

Dont suppose you have a copy of the interview you could share?

For you, dear anon~

His Dark Materials: Andrew Scott on life after Fleabag and Sherlock

We’ve loved him as both Fleabag’s Hot Priest and Sherlock’s menacing Moriarty. Now, he’s back on our screens in the new series of His Dark Materials. Polly Vernon talks to our TV crush

Andrew Scott is mortified. The actor – formerly Moriarty to Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, then the Hot Priest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag, imminently Colonel John Parry in the BBC’s adaptation of Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials – arrives at the photographic studio, bang on the appointed hour, in a fawn cashmere cardigan with a fine gold chain around his neck, bemoaning “this terrible, terrible eye infection, which is making me so self-conscious. I’m so sorry. It isn’t that you’ve massively upset me before we’ve even started. It’s so annoying. But anyway…”

Scott, 44, is small, vivid, wiry and garrulously Irish, with a face that is not handsome so much as mesmerising, intense, sharply boned, symmetrical, startlingly expressive. Sequences of emotions so subtle and complicated that I can’t begin to identify or keep up with them ruffle his brow from moment to moment. And, yup, the whole thing is rather disrupted by his left eye. This is no light kiss of conjunctivitis. It’s a swollen, red, perma-weeping situation that engulfs the whole socket. Scott turns his face two thirds on to me, so the infection is largely hidden, which would probably help if we weren’t sitting in a brightly lit hair and make-up room with a massive, inescapable mirror fixed to one wall. “Oh God,” Scott says every time he catches sight of his reflection.

Stress?

“Let’s be honest,” he says. “Let’s not skirt around the issue. It’s being overworked and…” Scott’s eye begins weeping. “Oh my goodness. I am so sorry. Really, really very sorry.”

Wanna wear my sunglasses, I ask, holding them out to him.

“That would be a bit more weird, wouldn’t it? I actually did think about that in the taxi, but I thought that would be some sort of weird and screwed Invisible Man-type thing. I mean, it couldn’t be worse. And then we have to go and get our photograph taken. It’ll be one of those pictures where, you know, those creepy pictures… Of people crying?”

That’s what Photoshop’s for, I say.

“Anyway. Let’s just ignore it.”

I wonder if it’s particularly hard to walk around with an eye infection at a point in time where you’re not merely famous, as Scott is – a star of stage, screen and Bond film, winner of multiple awards, including, as of barely two weeks ago, a Best Actor Olivier for Present Laughter at the Old Vic – but specifically famous for being sexy.

In 2019, Andrew Scott became synonymous with, well, sex. While playing a character technically known as the Priest, whom the general public instantly renamed the Hot Priest, the spiritual support turned transgressive love interest of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s supremely popular Fleabag, Scott became a cypher for the nation’s more exotic desires. A deliciously contentious pin-up. Ground zero on an earnest social media debate about whether the Priest’s relationship with Fleabag should be considered abusive, power imbalanced, “problematic”. And that was just for starters.

The Priest’s sexual iconography extended far beyond the limits of the show, becoming the subject of internet memes and real-life merchandise (visit online retailer Etsy for your £12 Hot Priest mug emblazoned with an illustration of Scott in priest’s robes, alongside the word “kneel”, a reference to a pivotal moment between the show’s lead characters, which takes place in a confession box, the climax of which, assuming you haven’t already seen it, you could probably take a stab at). There was an unprecedented upsurge in young worshippers, and women started bombarding social media “influencer” the Rev Chris Lee of west London with nude photographs. There was much foetid fan fiction.

To be publicly defined by so much sex, as Scott still is, a year and a half after Fleabag concluded, and then to be encumbered by something as visibly unsexy as an eye infection, I can see how that might make a chap self-conscious.

Scott isn’t here to rake up all that old Hot Priest stuff, mind. He’s here to talk about the second series of His Dark Materials, a lush, expensive fantasy drama based on the Philip Pullman books, jewel in the crown of the BBC’s autumn schedule. The series was filmed through 2019 and the beginning of 2020 and had all but wrapped before lockdown. Good timing, as it turned out, because the extensive post-production processes, unlike shooting, could be completed in isolation.

Scott’s Colonel John Parry is an explorer, the missing father of the central character, 14-year-old Will Parry. He’s a man who slipped into a parallel universe some years earlier, acquired a “daemon” – an exterior animal-formed expression of his soul, a female osprey called Sayan Kötör, voiced with public-pleasing symmetry by Phoebe Waller-Bridge – and never found a way back to “our” world and his son. I speak as a fan of the books, which you might describe as a darker, existential response to Harry Potter, although honestly? They’re better than that. The show is great, a deft, rewarding interpretation, and Scott is an exciting prospect as Parry.

Did he jump at the part?

“I did, actually. It was definitely something I was into. We were doing a play and it seemed like a fun thing to do.” Scott is one of those who slips into the third person when speaking about himself in a professional capacity.

Had he read the books?

“Yeah,” he says. “I think they’re extraordinary. The truth, but told on a slant. I love the way Pullman tells children about spirituality or religion in such an extraordinary, intelligent way. He doesn’t speak down to them. He talks to children’s souls.”

Given that Pullman effectively kills off God through the course of the books and Scott’s a lapsed Irish Catholic who has suffered his share of shame on account of the church’s grip on his homeland (more on which shortly), I’d imagine Pullman’s books talked to Scott’s adult soul too.

Presumably, he didn’t have to audition. Presumably, he never has to. Too famous for auditions?

“No,” he says. “Although I’ve always thought auditioning is a pretty good thing to do.”

Why?

“Because you’re able to understand, ‘Oh, this is the vibe here.’ You think, when you’re an actor, you don’t have much choice, but I’ve always felt like auditioning is a good opportunity for you to go, ‘Oh well, I don’t much like you either. I think you’re dreadful!’ ”

I don’t care that you didn’t give me that part?

“Yeah.” Scott becomes playfully, theatrically defiant. “I don’t care!” He flicks aside an imaginary rejection with a churlish hand.

Will John Parry and His Dark Materials be enough to eliminate all residual overtones of Hot Priest sexiness from Scott? Maybe. He is a fine actor, no question, entirely transformed from role to role. I saw him play Paul, a narcissistic, fame-addled touring rock star, at the Royal Court in 2014 in Simon Stephens’ Birdland, back when his deeply sinister Moriarty weighed almost as heavily on Scott’s reputation as the Hot Priest does now. I’d watched him become someone else entirely on stage. “Oh, you saw that?” Scott says, pleased.

I quote, “Am I cancer?” at him, his defining line from the play, as evidence.

“Oh Jesus. Oh f***ing hell. Oh my. I’d forgotten that line. ‘Am I cancer?’ ”

The Hot Priest association hasn’t left him yet, which is why I find myself asking what it’s like to be the very definition of sexiness.

“You get invited to more parties.”

Better parties?

“Yeah.”

Better than during his Moriarty phase?

“Definitely.”

It must be fun to find yourself le dernier cri in sexy, according to the whole nation.

“Yeah, that’s fun,” he says. “I didn’t really like being associated with scary. It’s not what I’m interested in being, in life, being intimidating to people. It’s not part of my nature, whereas being sexy to people…”

That is part of his nature?

“Well, they’re very different things.”

They’re both about having power over people.

“I suppose they are, yes.”

So did Scott, bored of scaring people, say to Phoebe Waller-Bridge, writer and star of Fleabag and a long-term friend (they met in 2009 while starring in Roaring Trade at the Soho Theatre), “Write a role for me that will make everyone think I’m just really, really sexy now”?

“That’s such a good belt. Are they two ‘Gs’?”

“Exactly.”

——————————

Andrew Scott is not the easiest interview. He’s utterly charming. Really, just a delight. In between prostrating himself for the offence of his eye and apologising for not turning up the first time we were scheduled to meet (ten days earlier; a delayed Covid test result meant he couldn’t make it), he ensures I have a good time in his company. He is playful. He makes me laugh. His every utterance is delivered as a grand performance. (“Shhhh! Just… Shhhh!” he implores, placing a finger against his lips while expressing frustrations over the mindless jabber of social media, and he does it so powerfully, he compels me to be quiet, breathlessly to await delivery of his next line.) He finds elegant ways to flatter me. He laughs at my jokes and is terribly taken with my belt.

Yeah. For Gucci.

“Oh. Ha ha! I thought it was the Golden Globes. I love the Golden Globes. Ha ha!”

And of course, he’s Irish. Clichédly, melodiously Irish, which makes everything sound softer and jollier than it might otherwise.

As for the actual business of being interviewed, of answering straight questions with straight answers, finishing off sentences, offering more than a slip-slide of vagaries punctuated by vigorous hand gestures, none of which translates into print? He’d rather not.

He tells me, as he’s told other journalists before, this is because he’s interested in navigating the line between “privacy and secrecy”, then says he’s aware he’s sometimes “got away with secrecy under the guise and respectability of privacy”, as if signalling potential incoming slipperiness, which means I prepare to throw every trick in the book at him.

First up: amateur psychology.

Might Andrew Scott’s gayness be at the heart of his reluctance to speak more freely? Perhaps. This is no scoop. He’s been out for almost as long as he’s been famous. “I mean, as a civilian, I was quite young [when I came out], you know? But then, as a celebrity…”

He tails off, allows me to fill in the blanks. This is another of his evasion tactics. I can’t very well quote Scott on the presumptions I make about things he never quite says.

He had to have another coming out?

“Yes. And I have another one coming up.”

He has another coming out coming up?

“Yeah.”

So that will be, what? Tier 3 gayness?

“Tier 3, yeah.”

Scott grew up in Ireland at a time when it wasn’t legal to be gay, which could certainly seed an enduring reluctance towards carefree openness in a person. He invokes the concept of shame more regularly than the average interviewee. He was born in Dublin in 1976 to Nora, an art teacher, and Jim, who worked at an employment agency. He has one older sister, Sarah, and a younger one, Hannah.

He was shy, so started attending a children’s drama course.

Did that help?

“Yeah. Acting to me is not pretending to be someone else. It’s more like, this is who I actually am. The lie that tells the truth,” he says. I am none the wiser. He was clearly talented. He went from adverts to his first starring role in a film aged 17 (Korea, directed by Cathal Black), won a bursary to art school but took a place at Trinity College Dublin to study drama instead, and ditched that six months in to join Dublin’s Abbey Theatre. He’s been gainfully employed in the field ever since.

How Catholic was his upbringing?

“Well, there were Catholic priests in my life,” he says. “None of whom I wanted to have sex with.”

Does it amuse Scott to know he inspired a mass fetishising of priestly ranks? That in 2019, the Hot Priest would make, “Can you have sex with a Catholic priest?” one of the most googled terms of the year?

“Absolutely f***ing mental,” he says.

Homosexuality wasn’t legalised in Ireland until 1993, when Scott was 16.

“I always think, if I’d had a boyfriend then, which I definitely did not…”

No?

“No.”

He knew he was gay, though?

“No. No, no, no, no!”

Was he suppressing it or not thinking about it?

“I would say suppressing. Definitely suppressing. I don’t believe people just don’t think about it.”

An upbeat, cheesy jazz remix of something or other starts playing outside the room.

“Oooh, this is the soundtrack for this bit of the interview,” says Scott. He wiggles his shoulders to the music.

I switch to strict dominatrix interviewer mode. Focus, I say. You were about to tell me something good.

“Oh, shit, was I? OK. I think what’s really insidious is that people don’t ask you about sex or… People wouldn’t say, ‘Are you gay or are you [straight]?’ And the lack of directness is very damaging. They just didn’t go there.”

Does he think his family, friends, the people closest to him knew then that he was gay?

“No,” he says. “I don’t think they did know. Or maybe they have a suspicion, but they think, I want to be respectful, so I’m not going to ask about that. Then [when you do come out], people say, ‘Oh, I’m glad.’ You know? If you do talk about it. So I suppose what I feel now is, talking about sex or sexuality is important. Really important.”

Having said that, “There’s still getting rid of the shame. In a situation like this, 10 or 15 years ago, I would have been…” He fakes shock, horror. “Oh no! Polly’s just asked me about [he switches to a whisper] that.”

Scott will talk about his sex life only notionally. No specifics. For 15 years, between 2001 and 2016, he was in a relationship with the actor turned screenwriter Stephen Beresford (Scott starred in Beresford’s 2014 film Pride). Ever since, he’s refused to answer questions about his romantic life.

And he’s not going to talk about it now, I presume.

“No.”

What if we talk about it opaquely?

“OK.”

Where does he see himself, domestically, in an ideal world? Married with kids whom he’ll, I dunno, adopt or have via surrogacy?

“I like it. It’s bold. Am I going to adopt or…?”

Get a surrogate?

“I definitely think that’s something I would be open to.”

Great, I say, with blatant sarcasm. Thanks. How specific.

“Ha! I’m sorry. OK. Have I got any children at the moment? No. How can I… [explain]? OK. I was with a friend of mine in Dublin…”

His partner?

“No, no, no. Not my partner. Ah ha. I see what you were…”

Teasing. Yes.

“Ha! Yes. So, I was with a friend in Dublin and we were walking around and he was looking at apartments and I was like, ‘What about this place here?’ You know? And he said, ‘No,’ and I said, ‘Why not?’ and he said, ‘I don’t live a heteronormative life, so I don’t want a heteronormative house.’ ”

What’s a heteronormative house?

“Two up, two down thing. He goes, ‘I can live in a loft or a weird space. I don’t need those things.’ He was so proud of it. He really owned it. I think where a lot of one’s pain comes from is when you go, ‘I should want that.’ And so, to answer your question opaquely, I have kids I adore. I love children, genuinely, and I had a very happy childhood. But I also feel, if I don’t have kids, that’s all right. I think I would’ve attached a lot of shame beforehand, with not living a particularly heteronormative life… Even with being gay, there’s a sort of way of being gay that’s acceptable. And I don’t feel that any more.”

He feels you can be unacceptably gay?

“Exactly. Exactly!”

I ask when shame shifted for him and Scott says it was when Ireland voted overwhelmingly in favour of same-sex marriage in the 2015 referendum, which felt, he says, “like acceptance, genuinely. And I remember going out to this gay bar in Dublin and this girl came up to me, this cool Dublin girl, and she said, ‘What are you doing here? You need to go down to, I don’t know, blah, blah, this bar in some park.’ She was saying, ‘This isn’t the right gay bar for you. This is some shit gig,’ when the fact I’m in a gay bar in Ireland [at all] is a miracle to me, and then some person with a half-shaved head is telling me, ‘No, you need to go somewhere cooler.’ ”

His left eye starts weeping again.

“I’m so happy about that,” he says. “Even though I’m crying.”

I ask Scott if he has a game plan when picking roles, if he plots his course from Sherlock villain to Bond quasi-villain (he played Max Denbigh in Spectre) to sex icon, and, if so, what next? “No. Jesus, no,” he says.

We talk about the totalitarianism of social media, which he isn’t on, and share a mutual despair over it. “I thought it was something one would associate with the right, but actually, now it’s [the left] that is very ‘you’re this’ or ‘you’re that’. I find that quite frightening. It actually makes me feel ferocious.”

Is he not worried about being cancelled, of somehow saying the “wrong” thing, according to Twitter sensitivities, then having a thousand voices mobilised against him, demanding his firing, in the style of JK Rowling?

“I’m not,” he says. “I refuse to be. A very intelligent person I was talking to recently was writing a book and he said, ‘I’m going to get a sensitivity expert to have a look. I don’t want to get cancelled.’ I found that frightening.”

Is he rich? “Rich is the absence of worry about money,” he says. He can’t remember the last time he worried about money.

That must be nice.

“Of course it f***ing is. I think it’s a miracle. I really do. I was working in a French theatre in London for nothing – none of us was working for anything – and I remember the artistic director of the theatre talking about the fact we weren’t earning any money as some sort of virtue. I remember feeling really annoyed about that, like this isn’t good.”

This leads to an inevitable conversation about how the arts are suffering with Covid, including a segue down the Fatima route, the much shared government advert that depicted a young ballerina and suggested she retrain in something called cyber. “Her name’s not even Fatima,” Scott rails. “I think she’s called Desire’e. From New York.”

I mean to ask him about his experience of filming The Pursuit of Love with Lily James and Dominic West, stars of their own recent off-screen micro-scandal in Rome, just in case he lets any scurrilous insight slip, but our time’s up and it’s not as if Scott has much form on offering up scurrilous insight anyway.

Still, I feel grateful to him for meeting me halfway on the other stuff. And so I say goodbye to Andrew Scott, the UK’s foremost gay heterosexual lapsed Catholic faux-priest lust icon with a troublesome eye infection.

#''Tier 3 gayness'' is peak comedy #I'm not sure if I should put this in the tag but y'all can reblog if you need it on yours #long post #andrew scott

[nazghoulz]

The Definitive Ranking of Richard Armitage’s Acting Roles, Rated Exclusively by How Hot I Find Him In Screengrabs

Richard Armitage. As a diehard Thorin Oakenshield fan I certainly have a complicated relationship with him, mainly because I can never decide if I find him inherently hot or not. On the one hand, I’m a hardcore Thorinfucker. On the other hand my gay ass sees a headshot of Mr. Armitage and I’m just like, “Oh, no thank you.” So in order to set myself to rights, I have gone through Mr. Armitage’s IMDB and done a definitive ranking of all his 44 screen roles on there, based completely and arbitrarily on how hot I find him in screenshots. (Thank you to all the hardcore Armitage Fuckers who keep wordpress blogs with screengrabs of his various cameos and bit parts; my respect for you cannot be put into words.) I haven’t seen like 90% of these properties, and I didn’t bother to research them, so these are mainly just gut first impressions. I hope this helps anyone else out there who as confused by him as I am. Enjoy ?

44. Father Quart in The Seville Communion/The Man From Rome (2020)   — ??/10

I don’t think this movie is out yet? Idk I haven’t been able to find any stills of him, let alone much information about the movie itself. It’s listed on his IMDB though! And apparently he’s playing a priest...which could be extremely  👁️👁️ if done correctly.

43. Unnamed Naboo Fighter Pilot in Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999) — 1/10

OH SWEETIE NO!!!!! This physically pains me to say this, because I unironically love this terrible movie with my whole heart, but unlike a yung Kiera Knightley’s role (pictured front and center) as Padmé’s loyal body double Sabé, this is probably a cameo that we would all like to forget about. The only thing Richard has to offer is this unfortunate turtle-faced realness. This helmet does him no favors.

42. Man in Pub in Boon (1992) — 2/10

As far as I know this is Richard’s first acting credit on IMDB, and he for sure is working the background extra energy. Go on girl give us nothing! He does have a decent backside though, and it’s better than looking at unfortunate turtle face, so I give this one a 2.

41. Paul Andrews in Between the Sheets (2003)  — 2/10

I can’t really articulate why, but I absolutely despise every screenshot I see of Richard Armitage in this role. He is completely unhot, and not even in a way I can laugh at. He takes no advantage of his assets, he has no charisma, no magnetism, no nothing. This is Richard Armitage at his most white bread rando, in a way that makes me actively dislike him. Pbbbbttth. Bad. Throw this whole thing away.

40. Craig Parker in Casualty (2001)  — 2/10

I don’t know, it’s like the perfect storm of the gelled 2001 hair, the terrible quarter? eighth? zip sweater, and overall, er, skeezy vibes that he gives off that makes him particularly unhot in this role. Perhaps not as reprehensible as Unhot Paul, but still. I think the sheer boringness of this has to count for something. Blech.

39. Dr. Tom Steele in Doctors (2001) — 2.5/10

He honestly looks like a villain in an early season of Alias, which... well. Quentin Tarantino was cast as a bit-part villain in Alias season one, so take that as you will. But at least he’s compelling here, which is why he gets half a point over Unhot Paul.

38. Steven in Frozen (2005) — 3/10

Get some rest, tall child! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends! Also short haircuts do nothing for you, Richard. Styled like this, they just serve to make you look sort of like a sleaze.

37. Peter Macduff in ShakespeaRe-Told (2005) — 3/10

He honestly looks like he could be a guest star in Friends in this one, where he’s a guy named Jason who Ross meets in Central Perk where they find they have a lot in common. Ross introduces Jason to Monica and they really hit it off, but it all comes crashing down because while Jason is sensitive and writes poetry, he also thinks that the Earth is flat. The rest of the episode is trying to get rid of Jason while he becomes increasingly obsessed with Monica, and Ross cannot quite let go trying to prove to Jason that the world is round. Anyway. Macduff Flat Earth Jason isn’t quite as unhot as Unhot Paul, but he’s pretty much on the same level as Tired Steven.

36. Phillip Durrant in Marple (2007) — 3/10

Something about him in this image really makes me want to punch him in the face. It’s huge Peter Parker in Spider-Man 3 energy.

35. Young Claude Monet in The Impressionists (2006) — 3.5/10

I’M LOSING MY FUCKING MIND THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND IS !!! CARNIVAL BARKER !!!!! STEP RIGHT UP TO SEE THE WORST GOATEE IN HISTORY !!! I was actually going to give Yung Claude a 2 but the more I look at this terrible beard the more impressed I am with the boldness of this look, so I had to bump it up to 3.5. Idk. Just look at this. It’s incredible, especially knowing what kind of beard Armitage can grow himself !!!!!!!!

34. Heinz Kruger in Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) — 3.5/10

This is definitely the best looking he’s been so far in this list, but he’s a Nazi in this one, which makes him unsexy on principle. But do I feel a little something when he gets pinned to the ground by jacked Chris Evans with the above look on his face right before he swallows his cyanide pill? Can neither confirm nor deny. They are also truly playing into his inherently sinister bone structure, so I can respect that.

33. Percy Courtney in Miss Marie Lloyd (2007) — 4/10

Even including Yung Claude and Nazi Heinz, I think Nothing Percy is probably the weakest of Richard’s period looks, mostly because he looks like, well, nothing. He certainly doesn’t pull off that top hat like he does in North and South, and the secret to that might be the lack of sideburns. In this one he just sort of reminds me of the asshole fiance in Titanic.

32. Philip Turner in The Inspector Lynley Mysteries (2005) — 4/10

He’s really giving off bargain bin Hugh Jackman as Wolverine vibes here, if Logan’s energy was more “murderer in a Hallmark channel mystery” than “superhero.” Though, given what sort of show this is, that may be the point! Idk, this isn’t the worst. At least he has a decent haircut in this one. Still, I feel absolutely nothing when I look at him. He’s simply royalty-free stock music given human form.

31. Dr. Alec Track in The Golden Hour (2005) — 4.5/10

I could see how this conceivably be sexy in this role, but to be honest, he’s still nothing to me, sorry. He gets some extra points because he obviously worked out for this role and the hard nips through a white undershirt is a commendable look. I whole-heartedly respect Doctor Alec’s thottitude.

30. Daryl in Staged (1999) — 4.5/10

Speaking of thottitude!!!!! This is one cream-faced business boy that I can certainly get into! He looks like the love interest in a pre-Hayes code homoerotic thriller from the early 1930s. I’m sure that’s just because of the lighting and general staging of this production, but hm... demure. Love it.

29. Capt. Ian Macalwain in Ultimate Force (2003) — 4.5/10

Well, he looks like a character from M*A*S*H but with no charisma, or like an extra in The Great Escape who snitches on Steve McQueen to the Nazis. Also in half the pictures I find of him from this he’s wearing this terrible beret, which I know he can pull off because of a role that ranks much higher on this list. Whoever styles this man really needs to pay attention to what sort of headgear they put on him.  

28. Epiphanes in Cleopatra (1999) — 5/10

Speaking of headgear, you know what?? He doesn’t look awful here. A solid 5, perfectly acceptable. I think the helmet does a lot to accentuate the sharpness of his face in this extremely bit part, though the eyeliner definitely also helps as well.

27. John Mulligan in Moving On (2009) — 5/10

Mr. Armitage’s characters can really have potential when a production’s stylist allows him to wear scruff (IN A WAY THAT LOOKS NATURAL, LOOKING AT YOU YUNG CLAUDE). However, as it is with John Mulligan in Moving On here, he just sort of looks like a rando? They’re not playing into the inherent angularity of his face, which for me makes it sort of confusing regarding what sort of emotion I’m supposed to feel while looking at him. As it is, I’m just like, “Yup, that sure is a regular human man, right there.”

26. Smug Man at Party in This Year’s Love (1999) — 5/10

This is the face of a man who less smug and is more DRUNK OUT OF HIS MIND !!!! Idk. He’s cute here, I’ll admit. That’s all I have to say about it.

25. John Standring in Sparkhouse (2002) — 5.5/10

I enjoy the bold choice of giving him wavy hair in this one, but I’m not sure he quite pulls it off. It doesn’t look bad, per se, just... he looks completely nonthreatening. Which I guess could be someone’s thing, but not mine. He honestly looks like a knock-off Will Graham, sans dogs and trauma.

24. Gary in Into the Storm (2014) — 5.5/10

I think the thing that really gets me is that this character’s name is Gary. Who on God’s green Earth looks at Richard Armitage and goes, “Ah yes, you do look like a Gary” ??? I don’t think I know of a single non-American Gary, especially since the name Gary only got popularized after Gary Cooper renamed himself after his hometown of Gary, Indiana!!!! It wasn’t really a name for human men before that!!!! I want to live in the alternate universe where Frank Cooper was originally from Albuquerque and named himself Albuquerque Cooper and this character is named as such. Gary. Really.

23. King Oleron in Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016) — 5.5/10

I truly hate how much his facial expressions in these stills remind me of Thorin, considering how bad he looks otherwise. Like his face his fine, I guess, especially since this is the first instance of his full beard. I’m charmed despite myself! Take me to wonderland, O King.

22. Adam Price in The Stranger (2020) — 5.5/10

For as compelling as people call this series, Richard here isn’t very much so imo. But despite my utter lack of interest, he doesn’t look bad per se. He just sort of has that stubbly white man blandness that colors a lot of his more recent roles. Like, at least his bad mid-2000′s styling had character. This is just the visual representation of a vague handwave.

21. Harry Kennedy in The Vicar of Dibley (2006)  — 6/10

Gosh... floppy hair, cute sweaters... he also seems to be smiling a lot in this one, which is nice! The only thing I have to complain about is that he looks very much like if Bradley Cooper and Hugh Jackman circa Kate and Leopold had a baby, which may not necessarily be too much of a bad thing, but I can’t unsee it.

20. Sgt. John Porter in Strike Back (2010)  — 6/10

Ah, back to poorly suited haircuts. At least he’s a little bit gritter and grimier than we’ve seen so far, and I will say Richard Armitage does look good covered in dirt, as we will see later on. Also he’s got biceps in this one, which, hell yeah.

19.  Ricky Deeming in Inspector George Gently (2007)  — 6/10

I’M HAVING THE HARDEST TIME RIGHT NOW RANKING THIS ONE BC OF THIS INCREDIBLE LITTLE WHITE SCARF-RIDING LEATHERS COMBO!!! WHICH ABSOLUTE GENIUS DECIDED THIS!!!! EVERY SCREENSHOT OF HIM IN HIS EPISODE HAS THIS!!! Part of me just wants to give Stylish Ricky a big fat 10 because I’m gay and adore the sheer audacity of this look, but I still have to be fair and rank his overall aura accordingly. I think he’s a handsome extremely gay-coded motorcycle lad in this one, but he doesn’t exactly rev my engine, so to speak.

18. Lucas North in Spooks (2008) — 6/10

The tattoos really spice this one up. Luke could have been plagued by the problems inherent in Regular Mulligan’s Moving On styling, but this guy has an edge to him. He has a good haircut and 5′ o’clock shadow, which is something I’ve figured out is integral to Armitage Hotness. I feel like if I got to know this character I could possibly find him sexy.

17. Raymond de Merville in Pilgrimage (2017) — 6.5/10

Speaking of bad haircuts, this one is his undoing. This is almost the perfect balance between full beard and short haircut, which is the only way a short haircut works on this man, but they ruined it with this one! They gave him a bad bowl fade, which completely undoes any inherent sexiness that comes with being a knight. Not even the fact that he’s covered in dirt can turn me on at this point, ugh. Guy of Gisbourne he is not!!!

16. Tom Calahan in Brain on Fire (2016) — 6.5/10

Oh hell yes, WELCUM 2 DA DILF ZONE!!! I’m not super duper thrilled with the looks I’ve seen from this movie, but he seems scruffy and comfy in a way that is slightly refreshing for ol’ Richard. This is certainly the best of his normie looks so far. I’m just sad it took them 24 years to figure out how to style him properly for sympathetic roles in a contemporary setting.

15. James in My Zoe (2019) — 6.5/10

It’s another DILF look, slightly edgier than Comfy Tom but none of that sexy tired energy that we’ll see from Ocean’s 8. I don’t know !! Jimmy here doesn’t exactly thrill me, I think I prefer Tom’s flannels to this sharp bomber jacket/white t shirt combo seen here. Oh well! I am extremely  👀 👀 👀 👀 👀 that he can just casually palm that soccer ball like that.

14. John Thornton in North & South (2004)  — 7/10

Alright. I’m sorry. I just don’t find him that hot in this role. Like yeah, he’s got the scruff and the sideburns that work to his advantage, and the setting does make this character inherently sexy, but in some screenshots he screams too much of an aforementioned Kate and Leopold (the best Meg Ryan movie, imo) era Hugh Jackman to me. And if I was particularly into that, I would just watch Kate and Leopold again. I will admit, however, that this rating could be subject to change if I actually took the time to watch this show.

13. Chop in Urban and the Shed Crew (2015) — 7/10

...I’M??? INTO IT??? He’s dirty and scruffy but also has kind eyes.... I feel like this is knock off Will Graham who has blossomed into his own. His run down, grime-covered own. He’s back edging into Bradley Cooper territory, but somehow it works for him in this one. Like, I’m 89% sure it’s the DILF vibes I’ve been getting from the other screengrabs I’ve seen of this role, and this particular flavor of DILF is way sexier than Jimmy or Comfy Tom.

12. Francis Dolarhyde in Hannibal (2015) — 7/10

His Caesar cut doesn’t bother me quite so much in this, probably because he is pretty explicitly playing a villain in a series that doesn’t have any basis in reality. A villain who is ripped, and who can effortlessly throw real Will Graham around. Armitage uses his inherent sinisterness to great effect as the Red Dragon, which is good actually! I think a lot of how hot he is in any particular role really depends on whether the styling allows him to play to his strengths...idk! I’m not usually a huge fan of clean shaven Armitage, but it works for Frank here.

11. Daniel Miller in Berlin Station (2016) — 7/10

As much as I adore this particular look (beard + fade + green army jacket), I have to compromise and give Danny a 7/10 because it seems like the first season they styled him in usual stubbly white man blandness. I’d say screengrabs from s1 are a solid 6, while this might be an 8, so the average is a 7. That’s all I have to say about this!

10. Claude Becker in Ocean’s 8 (2018) — 7.5/10

!!!!! I love him in this role, I about had a conniption in the theater because I absolutely was not expecting him!! He looks perfectly ruffled and scruffy, edgier than either Comfy Tom or Jimmy, which I’m very into. That plus his two borzois (objectively the best looking dogs on the planet) really put Old Claude over the top for me. Thank you, thank you Hollywood stylists for finally figuring out what to do with him for roles as a Normal Man.

9. Richard Hall in The Lodge (2019) — 7.5/10

I don’t know anything about this movie, but it seems pretty spooky, which I’m into. I think Richard is well suited for this sort of horror/thriller role, where his angular features can play into the overall vibe rather than some hapless stylist trying to work around them. He looks like another cozy DILF here but with a bite to him, like someone who would do anything to protect his brood. I mean, he’s teaching this child to shoot! But idk, he also has the potential for Jack Nicholson in The Shining energy, which I also could be....hm... into. Idk. Is this on Netflix??

8. Lee in Cold Feet (2003) — 7.5/10

FUN!!! FLIRTY!!!! OTTER VIBES!!!!! I LOVE THIS, he seems so goofy here, and Armitage doesn’t usually pull off goofy that well! I’ve giggled at literally every screenshot I could find from the four episodes he was in this show, he seems like a real himbo. I’m a huge fan, even if it comes at the cost of dehydration abs.

7. William Chatford in Malice Aforethought (2005) — 7.5/10

Hoo hoo HOO DO NOT JUDGE ME!!!!!!! Maybe it’s just because I’ve been watching the new season of The Alienist and the new dark and gritty HBO reboot of Perry Mason back to back, but sue me, I love the bold choice they made with giving him a pencil moustache here. He looks like a hot Howard Hughes; if cream-faced business boy Daryl from Staged is the young ingenue in the pre-Hayes Code thriller I cast him in, Bill here is the sexy antagonist. I desperately want to hear a perfect Transatlantic accent coming out out of that  mouth. This look fucks and I’m sticking to that no matter what.

6. Trevor Belmont in Castlevania (2017) — 8/10

Ah, yes, speaking of king himbos... do me a favor and look me right in the eye and tell me that you wouldn’t fuck Trevor Belmont. You can’t, can you?????? At least 80% of Richard Armitage’s inherent hotness stems from his voice, and you can’t tell me there isn’t anything sexier than thinking about letting that guy loose in a recording studio and letting him say fuck. Look, Trevor may be drawn that way, but it’s the absolute stupidity coming out of his mouth in that sweet baritone that makes me want to be raw-dogged by 100% pure Romanian beef.

5. Dr. Scott White in Sleepwalker (2017) — 8/10 

Much like I had intimated when talking about Hot Danny in Berlin Station, this is Peak contemporary normie Richard Armitage styling. I honestly think The Hobbit either awakened something in him, or casting directors finally figured out he looks way good with a full beard. His crew cut even works with his whole look, which is a miracle!!!! I think he should be contractually obligated to have a full beard in all of his future roles, but that’s just me.

4. Guy of Gisbourne in Robin Hood (2006) — 8.5/10

I honestly can’t believe I’m ranking Guy so far up here, but honestly, THIS RULES!!!!!! THIS FUCKS!!!!!!!!! Which is incredible due to Guy’s lack of beard, but I’m weirdly okay with it? Like sure, he looks like he’d probably call me a slur in front of his shitty friends, but he also looks like he could tenderly pound me into the mattress in a way that would have me questioning my commitment to the “no emotions” clause of our clandestine no-strings-attached sex agreement. Anyway. Guy of Gisbourne if you see this im free thursday night. please message me back if you’re free thursday night when i am fr

3. Angus in Macbeth (1999) — 8.5/10

HHHNGHGNHNGHGN HE’S SO HOT.....!!! HE’S SO HOT!!!!! Leather jacket!!! Scruff!! Dirt!!!! Flattering beret!!!!! He’s so hot, and the worst part about this is that this was filmed in NINETEEN NINETY NINE!!!!!!!!!!!! Which means we could have always had this, had stylists and makeup artists PLAYED TO HIS STRENGTHS!!!!! He’s so hot I’m getting legitimately angry. Without scruff and dirt this man is nothing. N o t h i n g.

2. John Proctor in The Crucible (2014) — 9/10

Look, I know I have a type. But... this guy is just so hot, Daniel Day Lewis please step aside!!!! Contemporary theater historians describe John Proctor as a “strong beast of a man,” and... hhhHHOOOGH HELL YEAH!!! HELL !!!! YEAH !!!!! Like, his dick got almost his entire Puritan village, including himself, accused of witchcraft and like, looking at this guy, I kind of get it. I would probably go to war over the raw animal beauty of this horrible dirty, greasy man. Sue me, I confess. I saw Goody Osburn with the devil.

1. Thorin II Oakenshield in The Hobbit Trilogy  — 9.5/10

Come on. You knew it was going to be this guy. Look at my icon for christ’s sake. I am completely biased, I cannot look at his pictures objectively. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading, this was a very stupid list.

#rene rambles #this is the worst thing ive ever done tbh #richard armitage

[bybdolan]

Rating all the songs from “Across The Universe” (2007)

Girl (7/10) – A fun intro! Nothing too special, but it’s a bit mysterious and Jim Sturgess is looking directly into my soul, so it definitely draws you into the story. The mashup with Helter Skelter plus the whole protests/wave thing is veeeery dramatic, I dig that.

Hold Me Tight (7.5/10) – A cute lil’ dance scene, some sweet character introduction that immediately highlights Jude’s and Lucy’s different lifestyles… We love to see it! Also: The casting directors really found the most American looking guy ever to play Lucy’s boyfriend (I just assume he doesn’t have a name), huh? That’s talent.

All My Loving (8/10) – It’s one of my favorite Beatles songs, so I am biased, BUT Jim Sturgess really sells it and I love the scene that goes along with it. Him singing it to her in the alleyway feels very genuine and organic. (Side note: Jude you are a fookin’ bastard for cheating on Molly, gee.)

I Want To Hold Your Hand (9.5/10) – Incredible. Showstopping. Revolutionary. Ten times better than the Beatles’ version. Seeing this song from a gay perspective makes it so much deeper… She’s just asking to hold her hand… Wanting the simple things because maybe they can get away with doing that…. Maybe people won’t talk because girls holding hands could just be good friends…. The yearning of it all!!!!! The tenderness!!!! When I first saw that scene and the camera stayed on the girl as the guy was walking away and Prudence kept singing… Cultural reset. Only reason this isn’t a 10 is because this movie has even better scenes! (On a side note: It is hilarious that the school’s team is called Wildcats.)

With A Little Help From My Friends (8/10) – Boys being boys! Dudes bein’ guys, guys bein’ dudes. It’s a fun scene and a fun version of the song. All that’s left to ask is: DO YOU NEEEEEED ANYBOOODAAHHHYYYY? (Side note: Max Carrigan… Sir…. Spare hand in marriage?)

It Won’t Be Long (6.5/10) – Not gonna lie… I have no idea what purpose this scene serves. We never see Lucy’s boyfriend actually meeting her. However, I am not mad to hear Evan Rachel Wood perform this absolute banger, so I’ll take it. The school scenes are fun, I guess. It’s also one of the few times we see the other Carrigan sisters, who disappear for the rest of the movie. Maybe they also got drafted. Or they died. Who knows. They aren’t even there for Thanksgiving. Where did they go.

I’ve Just Seen A Face (9/10) – I don’t care if it is basic or simple… This song is instant serotonin and the bowling scene is so! Much! FUN!!! The chemistry between Max, Lucy and Jude is amazing… I love my dumb children.

Let It Be (12/10) – The full score doesn’t even cut it for this masterpiece. You thought the Beatles’ version was moving? Watch this damn scene. I can’t even think about it without getting emotional. If you don’t believe in a higher power, you will after hearing this song. The acting of both of the mothers is also spot on; when the mother of Lucy’s boyfriend clutches the flag and just breaks down? That kills me. Julie Taymor saying that she wanted the scene to make us empathetic for what’s going on in the world instead of apathic after becoming desensitized from all the violence we see on the news every day makes it much more impactful. I’ll stop talking now. I can’t handle it. EGOT!

Come Together (9.5/10) – It’s fucking Joe Cocker singing Come Together. The musical arrangement is LIT as fuck and the choreography is *chef’s kiss*. Shout out to the hooker girls! You are Queens! Only reason this isn’t a 10/10 is that pimp!Joe Cocker creeps me out. What’s up with that beard?

Why Don’t We Do It In The Road (7./10) – We don’t hear much of the song since Jude and Lucy are talking so much, but Sadie is amazing. Her voice is great. She’s gorgeous. Sadie sexy. I’m gay for Sadie. That’s it that’s the review.

If I Fell (8.5/10) – Evan Rachel Wood I have feelings for you.

I Want You (She’s So Heavy) (11/10) – This is THE scene, okay??? You may argue that the symbolism is a bit too on the nose, but it fits this very imagery-heavy movie perfectly. *Childish Gambino voice* This is America. You can tell that the writers of the movie thought long and hard about what to do with each and every song and it truly pays off in this scene. It is scary, it is weird, it is stunning. It is… Dare I say… Perfect.

Dear Prudence (9/10) – Prudence literally being in the closet… Iconic. This song makes me feel like I am floating. It’s so soft yet euphoric. Love the protest scene, too. Really captures the spirit of the time. (I say as if I was already born.)

I Am The Walrus (8/10) – I want to rate this lower because the whole LSD ordeal serves no purpose whatsoever and doesn’t drive the story further, but… Bono kills it :/ It’s a banger. Sorry Beatles, but Bono is the REAL walrus. There’s no competition.

For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite (3/10) – What’s the point??? Why is this scene in the movie? I guess they all had fun making it, but sorry Miss Taymor, cool set design doesn’t make a good scene. The blue guys are cool though. And Prudence got herself a gf!!! Good for her.

Because (8/10) – Deep sigh… It’s just a very good song. And the transition that shows Max has been shipped away is amazing.

Something (8.5/10) – Greatest love song ever written, blah blah. What can I say. Again: Mr. Sturgess kills this performance. He has the perfect voice for the song.

Oh! Darling (8.5/10) – My parents Sadie and Jojo are going though a tough spot, but they are kind enough to turn their anger and sexual frustration into a show that we can enjoy. And oh boy, we DO enjoy it. Their voices work together so well and the eMoTiOnS!!! Splendid. Good job, guys. Now please make up :( You love each other, after all.

Strawberry Fields Forever (10/10) – I’m spiraling. This song and this scene is god tier. It is beautiful and heartbreaking and simply gorgeous. Just… Wow.

Revolution (8/10) – Jude you are a little bitch but this song slaps. Next!

While My Guitar Gently Weeps (9/10) – Jojo’s voice… Heavenly. Just a damn good version of this song. Bonus points for the Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan vibes near the end of the scene when Jojo and Jude are walking down the streets.

Across The Universe (10/10) – This movie is cranking it up near the end, damn. This is just beautiful. Plain as that. The scene of Jude seeing Lucy and himself from the past in the subway driving past evokes feelings in me that I can’t explain.

Helter Skelter (9/10) – BANGER! Better than the original; Paul McCartney wishes he had what Dana Fuchs has. Works incredibly well with the riot scene.

Happiness Is A Warm Gun (10/10) – INCREDIBLE! Julie Taymor managed to make this song makes sense, wow. Joe Anderson’s delivery is incredible, and the hospital scene is really creepy but in a very very good way. Bonus points for Salma Hayek.

Black Bird (7/10) – I’m always too focused being sad about Max to pay attention, sorry. But it’s Evan Rachel Wood softly singing a ballad. What more do you want?

Hey Jude (9.5/10) – THIS SONG! MAX AND JUDE! T H E Y! All friendship is romantic, bitch!!! I can’t properly express my emotions but let it be known that I cry at the first note of this song. Hey Jude……

Don’t Let Me Down (7.5/10) – My parents are back together :) And they sound great!

All You Need Is Love (10/10) – Get your tissues ready. We’ve reached the end and it is flawless (just like the rest of this movie – except the LSD scenes). You probably will cry of happiness. Love truly is all you need.

Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds (7/10) – A solid banger to finish it all off. Gives you time to wipe your tears away and get carried away on the waves of funky Beatles songs.

#across the universe #the beatles #evan rachel wood #jim sturgess #dana fuchs #julie taymor #musical #film #this is my magnum opus #bono #u2

[thecoleopterawithana]

Did I Ever Take You In My Arms

[Another instalment in the ‘Touching Is Good’ series, following themes previously explored in ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand’.]

The gesture of holding someone or being held in their arms is one of the best-known forms of physical affection. It is no wonder then that the concept makes frequent appearances in romantic songs, including the ones where our young Beatles express their idea of being loved:

Hold me tight Tell me I'm the only one And then I might Never be the lonely one So hold (hold) me tight (me tight) Tonight (tonight), tonight (tonight) It's you, you you you

And if Paul was asking for cuddles in 1961, by February 1963 both John and Paul were offering them, in one of those back-of-the-bus, truly conjoined writing sessions. 

I've got arms that long to hold you And keep you by my side I've got lips that long to kiss you And keep you satisfied

So, I think we’ve established “holding” as one of their idyllic expressions of love. And if John seemed to establish “holding hands” as a shorthand phrase for his desires of physical affection, the next step to a proper full-on hug came to be invaluable in the communication of what they couldn’t say in words:

To Taylor's dismay, the three Beatles greeted them with hugs and kisses. "This is the new thing!" Lennon told him. "You hug your friends when you meet them and show them you’re glad to see them. Don’t stand there shaking hands as if everyone’s got some disease! Get close to people!"

— John Lennon, picking up Derek and Joan Taylor at the airport, 28 May 1967. In Joe Goodden’s Riding So High: The Beatles and Drugs (2017).

John dives deeper into the subject some months later, in a heart-wrenchingly raw examination of his feelings of depersonalization, of becoming adrift “alone on a draft in the middle of the universe”, and how contact (and of the physical kind) with the other Beatles – specifically Paul – helps anchor him to reality: 

If I am on my own for three days, doing nothing, I almost completely leave myself. I’m at the back of my head. I can see my hands and realize they’re moving, but it’s like a robot who’s doing it. I have to see the others to see myself. Then I realize there is someone like me so it’s reassuring. We were recording the other night, and I just wasn’t there. Neither was Paul. We were like two robots going through the motions. We do need each other a lot. When we used to get together after a month off, we used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We’d do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassment… or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other. Now we do the Buddhist bit… arms around. It’s just saying hello, that’s all.

— John Lennon, interview with Hunter Davies (late 1967).

The “Buddhist bit” refers to the practice of “hugging meditation”, as observed by @monkberries in this post. 

Introduced by Zen Buddhist monk and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh in the late 60′s, it rose out of the need to adapt his teachings – mutual understanding as the way to spiritual intimacy – to the body language of the West, as he recounts in his book How To Love (2014):

In 1966, a friend took me to the Atlanta Airport. When we were saying good-bye she asked, “Is it all right to hug a Buddhist monk?” In my country, we’re not used to expressing ourselves that way, but I thought, “I’m a Zen teacher. It should be no problem for me to do that.” So I said, “Why not?” and she hugged me, but I was quite stiff. While on the plane, I decided that if I wanted to work with friends in the West, I would have to learn the culture of the West.

At the core of the practice is the very conscious choice to be aware of the presence of this other human being in your arms, and just how they make you feel. Necessarily, it involves a shedding of the usual “Northern men” hang-ups, in order to enter a state of true communicative openness and emotional honesty.

According to the practice, you have to really hug the person you are holding. You have to make him or her very real in your arms, not just for the sake of appearances, patting him on the back to pretend you are there, but breathing consciously and hugging with all your body, spirit, and heart. Hugging meditation is a practice of mindfulness. “Breathing in, I know my dear one is in my arms, alive. Breathing out, she is so precious to me.” If you breathe deeply like that, holding the person you love, the energy of your care and appreciation will penetrate into that person and she will be nourished and bloom like a flower.

And this phrasing made me wonder if John started to pick up on his idea that “Love is a flower and you have to water it” even back then.

Thich Nhat Hanh goes on to explain the specific procedures of the practice and the philosophy behind it:

Hugging is a deep practice; you need to be totally present to do it correctly. When I drink a glass of water, I invest one hundred percent of myself in drinking it. You can train yourself to live every moment of your daily life like that.

Before hugging, stand facing each other as you follow your breathing and establish your true presence. Then open your arms and hug your loved one. During the first in-breath and out-breath, become aware that you and your beloved are both alive; with the second in-breath and out-breath, think of where you will both be three hundred years from now; and with the third in-breath and out-breath, be aware of how precious it is that you are both still alive.

When you hug this way, the other person becomes real and alive. You don’t need to wait until one of you is ready to depart for a trip; you may hug right now and receive the warmth and stability of your friend in the present moment. (...)

When we hug, our hearts connect and we know that we are not separate beings. Hugging with mindfulness and concentration can bring reconciliation, healing, understanding, and much happiness.

We can see how this technique might have been crucial in helping John come down and become aware not only of others but especially of himself; how it helped him heal and become more confident than usual in the notion that he is indeed loved and not alone. 

For Paul, it was perhaps a difficult, but nonetheless essential exercise in emotional frankness and vulnerability, where he really had to come to terms with his own feelings, and more importantly, open up his heart enough to accept that same love back.

But the perfectly in tune state of ‘67 would soon be disrupted (sadly, but not surprisingly) by a breakdown in communication. 

On the advantages of the new “boat”, John had this to say:

It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists.

— John Lennon, interview with Sandra Shevey (June, 1972). 

So it appears that at some point, John’s need for physical intimacy had been left unsatisfied (due to internal or external pressures remains to be known).

Though earlier, on March of that same year, Paul had made a cover of Gerald H. Nelson and Fred B. Burch’s song “Tragedy”, popularized Thomas Wayne and the DeLons in 1959. It ended up not being included in Wings’ Red Rose Speedway (1973), but the chorus goes as follows:

Oh, come back Have me here Hold me, love Be sincere You've gone from me, oh, oh, tragedy    

What did come out on Red Rose Speedway was a second “Hold Me Tight”:

I've waited all my life for you Hold me tight Take care of me and I'll be right Hold me tight, hold me tight Hold me tight, hugga me right Hold me tight, squeeza me tight Hold me tight, hugga me right Hold me tight, Hold me tight, Hold me tight

Eventually, when re-approaches were made, John and Paul would take up hugging again as a show of affection. 

When I opened the outer door, I saw it was actually Paul and Linda. They’d been singing "We Wish You A Merry Christmas.” I was really surprised and said, “I think you’re looking for the guys in the bedroom.” As they came in, everyone was really happy to see each other. John and Yoko jumped up when Paul and Linda walked into the bedroom. They were obviously excited to see each other again. There was a lot of hugging and catching up, and we had a round of tea.

— Bob Gruen, John Lennon: The New York Years  

They [John and Paul] seemed like giddy school chums. Hugging, patting each other on the back… like high-school buddies who hadn’t seen each other for a long time and really liked each other.”

— Bob Gruen, on the Christmas meeting between the Lennons and the McCartneys (December 1975).

But there was still an ocean between them, and sometime in 1976, John seemed to be in an especially wistful mood, as he sang on a demo of “Real Life”:

Was I just dreaming or was it only Yesterday

I used to hold you in my arms

And now a baby, and a another on the way

[Indescernable] in a farm

Now must we be alone?

If it don’t feel right, don’t do it

If it don’t look right, look right through it

If it don’t feel right, don’t do it

Just call him on the phone

But in the end, just when tentative steps where being taken for there to be more open communication again, the possibilities were ripped from their arms:

If I had known John was going to die, I would have made a lot more effort to try and get a better relationship with him. But when he started slagging me off I was not prepared to say ‘Well, you’re quite right’, because I’m human. My big regret was that I could have told John to listen and put my arms round him.”

— Paul McCartney, interview for the Titbits Magazine (November 1983).

This and other regrets Paul explores in the beautiful song “This One” (first demo recorded on 29 December 1986), where he deals with his past reticence to more clearly demonstrate his love: 

Did I ever take you in my arms, Look you in the eye, tell you that I do, Did I ever open up my heart And let you look inside.

...

Did I ever touch you on the cheek Say that you were mine, thank you for the smile, Did I ever knock upon your door And try to get inside?

...

What opportunities did we allow to flow by Feeling like like the timing wasn't quite right? What kind of magic might have worked if we had stayed calm, Couldn't I have given you a better life?

Did you ever take me in your arms, Look me in the eye, tell me that you do? Did I ever open up my heart, Let you look inside?

If I never did it, I was only waiting For a better moment that didn't come. There never could be a better moment Than this one, this one.

Paul would go on to continue using the promise of hugging and physical affection as a demonstration of love in his music, as heard in the chorus of Flaming Pie’s (1997) “Calico Skies” (written in August 1991):

I will hold you for as long as you like I'll hold you for the rest of my life 

Overall, this lesson in bodily affection as a clear expression of your love is one  Paul would indeed treasure for the rest of his life, as he fondly recollects:

You remember little things about people. I remember sort of seeing [John] and he comes in and gives me a hug and says 'Touching is good.' I'll never forget that. Touching is good. So I do a lot of hugging now.

— Paul McCartney, interview with Jim Axelrod for CBS News (17 September 2005).

#lennon mccartney #John Lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles #McLennon #touching is good #and when i touch you i feel happy inside #Hold Me Tight #from me to you #tragedy #real life #this one #calico skies #the person I actually picked as my partner #macca #johnny #pre chorus #1st verse #2nd verse #3rd verse #solo #quote #meta #my stuff

[deepstheeskimo]

‘The Power of Four’

Right, everyone is picking Lions squads with less than a year to go until the next South Africa tour is meant to happen. Only so much brainpower I want to put into considering the pros and cons of scrummaging abilities though so I’ve gone for the Deeps Cult Lions XV made up of past tourists from of the last 20 or so years.

1. Allan Dell. What better way to start than with a South African born Scottish prop that only got called up as part of the ‘geography six’? In the squad: Andrew Sheridan (built like one of those GM bulls) and Tom Smith (badly underrated player, 

2. Keith Wood. The ragin’ potato. Came to Quins and inspired a character in the first ‘book’ I wrote aged 8. Weird obsession with belly buttons, understandable obsession with trying drop goals from 40 metres. In the squad: Shane Byrne (1- mullet 2- not actually very good) and Andy Titterrell (Pro Rugby Manager 2 legend and extremely small man)

3. Kyle Sinckler. Why? He’s my guy, that’s why. He’s the opposite of that ruddy faced, sweaty tweed rugger culture. He makes me smile.  In the squad: Jason Leonard (The Fun Bus. Non-playing tour captain. Once ruffled my hair - give him all the ale he can drink.) and Adam Jones (The Hair Bear. My sister used to see him all the time in Neath Tesco - give him all the pic n mix he can eat).

4. Martin Johnson. Looks like a character from a Guy Ritchie film, universally loathed by opponents and taped up his fingers(??). Summed up by the saying ‘Last time I saw a mouth like that it had a hook in it’. In the squad: Paul O’Connell (has some weird mythical power about him. Came to Quins with Munster and made south west London echo with ‘fields of Athenry’) and Simon Shaw (his emotional final interview post 2009 third test, aged 37, was pretty special) 

5. Doddie Weir. Could not be anyone else. Farmer strength. Permanently looked 20. Built for Lions tours. Still fighting the good fight. Go on big man. In the squad: Nathan Hines (perma-suspended and a ‘tartan wallaby’) and Maro Itoje (Sometimes it’s not all about drinking and bungee jumping. Itoje’s one of the few that would be able to have an actual conversation) 

6. Peter O’Mahony. One of those players that always grows into a series and ends up being important. Entirely unremarkable player but must be nasty to play against. Can’t actually imagine he’s that nice to be around at all. Big ‘school bully’ vibes. In the squad: Richard Hill (the only one of England’s 2003 RWC forwards that didn’t vote Brexit) and Alan Quinlan (Hit form at the right time, finally being picked in 2009 after a good but near-miss career. Expresses immense pride in selection. Then gouges someone. 12 week ban. If that’s not a cult player then I’m not sure what is).

7. Sean O’Brien. Another one with farmer strength. Thick in the arm, thick in the head but unlike a lot of the others won’t ever let you down. Plus on a tour you need characters and I bet, deep deep deep down he’s actually got a personality. Well, maybe. In the squad: Martyn Williams (a face that belongs in a back office of a mid sized electronics company. Somehow helped to invent modern rucking) and Sam Warburton (picked only so I can annoy people by saying his name as War-burrton’ not ‘Wabatan’ as they seem to say. Also looks like an Easter Island statue)

8. Scott Quinnell. Just rugby league all over. Overweight, comedy accent, illegal use of a plaster cast on his arm, despicable post-career lad culture DVDs and even had a stint on Soccer AM. If you kick him, all the Quinnells walk with a limp. In the squad: Ryan Jones (about the only player to come out of 2005 with credit) and Andy Powell (body of a god, brain of, erm... Great on tour as he’s a six foot five version of that kid in school you could make do anything by saying ‘oh go on!’)

9. Chris Cusiter. Born in Aberdeen which obvs piques my interest. Somehow got called up aged 22 while playing for the ill-fated Border Reivers. Played in Scotland, England, France and Australia and now lives in California running a whiskey retailing business. International. In the squad: Matt Dawson (over the head dummy try) and Austin Healey (absolutely horrible grinding shithouse). The two of these would be encouraged to collaborate on deliberately provocative articles similar to what they wrote in 2001.

10. Jonny Wilkinson. The best player of all time. Note to self, don’t hang around him too much because you’ll look pathetic and probably annoy him. In the squad: Mike Catt (Utility back. My fave) and Finn Russell (Joué Joué 🍷)

11. Ugo Monye. A huge part of my weekends for about 10 years was getting excited every time he touched the ball. Top scorer on his one Lions tour, shock. In the squad: George North (need a scapegoat for when we lose 49-0 to Japan in a warm up game) and Jack Nowell (wouldn’t play a single game, only being taken to let the squad mock him and call him a yokel - bet he’s got a dead short fuse).

12. Rob Henderson. Looked like, acted like, presumably ate like and definitely played like that guy from your local club who played England U16s and let it get to his head. And gut. Crash ball. In the squad: Scott Gibbs (hefty) and Gavin Henson (Insane talent, probably got good stories and even if he’s a prick he’s nicer to look at than some of the other options).

13. Ollie Smith. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Life gave Sir Clive Woodward the entire player pool of Britain and Ireland and somehow he picked Ollie Smith. In my team because he just looks like a nice guy. Defo pro-HS2 and his dad would pick up the bar tab. In the squad: Brian O’Driscoll (meh, guess he gets a place) and Will Greenwood (but only with bleach blonde hair. He genuinely almost died on the pitch playing for the Lions, looks like Shaggy and is a rarity in being a Lions player selected while playing Championship rugby).

14. Dan Luger. Always looked like he’d just come off a 10 hour shift at B&M. Even made skintight shirts look baggy. Played for Perpignan and Toulon before it was cool. Tryscoring machine. Injury prone as fuck.  In the squad: John Bentley (so long as he isn’t a massive sexist like on the 1997 documentary) and Christian Wade (I will never forgive rugby union for wasting his talent).

15. Neil Jenkins. Ol’ dependable. Looks like a man off the street. Can imagine he’s almost always terrified around these peacocking ‘alpha males’. In the squad: Tim Stimpson (remember him?) and Iain Calamity Balshaw (Brendan Laney never played Lions so he’s there to mess everything up instead)

[country-clubs-gf]

Part Two of Embry Call Imagine for @kpopgirlbtssvt

~~~

Ever since Embry told me about the imprint, we’ve been spending almost every waking moment with each other. Or at least we try to. We have pretty busy schedules with me being in college and him staying busy with the pack and patrol.

Still, Embry makes lots of effort to get to know me and be a part of my life while I get used to the supernatural side of the world. It’s definitely a lot to take in. But I can confidently say that I am getting used to him and am warming up to the idea of becoming romantically involved with him.

I often find myself daydreaming about Embry and I in different romantic scenarios and every time I do I get this uncontrollable need to be with him. Imprint bond I guess. At least that’s what Emily tells me. I talk to her all the time about the emotional changes I’ve been experiencing ever since the imprint and she’s been helping me with it. We’ve become really close really fast and I’m so grateful for her already.

It’s getting harder and harder to resist the imprint while I’m getting to know Embry. I mean, we were strangers before and I definitely don’t want to rush things. But lately it’s just sooo hard to not be around him 24/7, and I often miss him as soon as he’s not with me. The feeling is so strong, I think I actually might be falling in love with him already.

As soon as the professor releases us from class, I walk outside the university entrance and there is Embry, leaning against one of the rails on the steps. He looks so good, his black hair swooped to one side, his jawline sharp as hell, his brown eyes taking in the buildings that surround us, although I prefer him without a shirt, he still looks just as good with one on. I resist the urge to run up and kiss him as I approach him.

His eyes meet mine once he notices me walking towards him and he smiles sweetly. “Hey, how was class?” He asks as he pulls me in for a hug, which I gladly return.

“Long,” I reply. “I thought you had patrol this evening?” I ask.

“Sam gave me the evening off,” he tells me. Suddenly I have a newfound appreciation for Sam.

He walks me to his car and opens the door for me. I smile at him as I step inside and thank him.

The whole drive to Emily’s we spend singing along to the radio, doing crazy dance moves in the small amount of space the car seats allow. One of his favorite songs came on the radio and his eyes lit up and a huge smile broke out on his face. He hurriedly turned the volume up and started singing loudly. I laughed at his excitement. It was in this moment that I knew for sure I was ready to be fully involved with Embry. I just don’t know how to tell him.

We pull up to Emily’s and get out of the truck. As if on cue, the rest of the pack comes running up to us in fits of laughter, shoving each other around.

“Hey (Y/N)! Long time no see!” Paul jokes. I was just there this morning because Embry wanted to take me to class.

“Maybe Embry will stop moping around now,” Quil laughs, shoving Embry on the arm. He smiles, clearly embarrassed. He’s cute when he’s embarrassed.

“I miss (Y/N) soooo much!” Jared says in a mocking voice.

“Is it time to go get her yet?” Paul adds on.

They all laugh like hyenas.

“Whatever,” Embry rolls his eyes. I find it super sweet that he talks about me all the time. It makes me love him even more.

We go inside where Emily and Sam are cuddling on the couch. We all sit down next to them, Paul, Quil, and Jared on one couch, Jake in a chair by himself, Seth and Leah sitting on the floor below Paul and Jared, leaving just enough room for Embry and I on a couch across from Sam and Emily.

They all get to talking amongst themselves with the tv playing in the background. I take this as an opportunity to talk to Embry about how I feel.

“Hey, so, we’ve been spending a lot of time together and I really feel comfortable with you and like I’ve really gotten to know you these past few weeks.” I start.

“Me too, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you,” he tells me. I smile.

“Yea I just wanted to tell you...” I really wanna tell him but I feel a huge knot in my stomach from being so nervous. Suddenly it’s really quiet and I can feel everyone’s eyes on me.

“Yeah?” Embry asks, looking at me really intently but also a bit confused.

“I just wanted to say that I really need something to eat,” I say. What? That’s so random, why couldn’t I just tell him?

“Oh sorry! I totally forgot that you probably haven’t had dinner since you got out of class! I’ll go get you something!” He says and practically runs to the kitchen.

I put my head in my hands in frustration. What is wrong with me? I look through my fingers and see everyone with wide eyes. Then they all break into laughter, except for Sam and Emily.

“What was that, (Y/N)??” Jared says between a fit of giggles. I remove my head from my hands and stick my tongue out at him.

“Epic fail! I haven’t seen something so embarrassing since Jacob tried to get with Bella!” Paul jokes. Jacob’s face goes red.

“You can just tell him, what are you afraid of? You already know he likes you, he imprinted on you!” Seth reassures me.

I look over at Emily who is looking at me with sympathy.

“Stop you guys! Give her a break! But seriously, (Y/N), Embry is not going to reject you. Just tell him how you feel. He’s dying to be with you, he’s just waiting for you to say the word,” Emily tells me. They all give me a nod.

“You’re right, I need to talk to him,” I say. “But before that, I need to eat. I’m starving!”

We all head to the kitchen where Embry is making me a sandwich.

“Aww you didn’t have to do that! I could’ve done that myself!” I tell him.

“Really anyone could’ve done that,” Jared says and Emily gives him a look. That shuts him up.

“Do you guys want to go to La Push after we eat? Play a little football? Start a fire?” Jacob suggests.

“That sounds like fun!” They all say. So I guess we’ve established that we’re all going to the beach. That seems like a good place to tell Embry how I feel.

After we all eat, we all pile into Jacob’s truck and drive the little ways down to the beach.

During the drive I’m sitting next to Embry on the bed of the truck and Jared and Paul are sitting across from us. Our hands are almost touching and I can feel the warmth from his body. I look over at Jared who apparently doesn’t know I’m looking because he’s gesturing at Embry to move his hand over on mine. He stood abruptly once he realizes I’m watching and I blush, pretending I didn’t see.

We get to the beach and park. I stay behind as the boys run ahead and start playing football. I help Emily grab the beach towels and some snacks and a cooler.

“So are you going to tell him?” She asks, giving me a knowing smile.

“I’m planning on it, but I’m really nervous and every time I even start to tell him I choke up! It’s so embarrassing!” I exclaim. She gives a small laugh and rubs my arm.

“You’ll be fine, I can tell he really likes you just by the way he looks at you. He looks after you and I’ve never seen him this way. It’s really cute actually,” she says. I smile at this.

“You’re right, I really need to get this off my chest,” I tell her as we approach the boys.

Once we set everything up, Emily and Sam get a fire pit going and I sit on a log near the fire. Embry comes up to me and sits next to me, out of breath from being tackled by the boys during their game of football.

“Do you need some water?” I ask, letting out a small laugh. He nods and I grab him a bottle from the cooler, which he gladly takes and quickly drinks it all.

“Hey, can we go for a walk?” I ask. He nods and stands up, following me out to the shore.

Once we walk a little ways, I start to tell him about everything.

I’m just gonna go for it.

“Hey so, about what I said earlier, I really like you and I’ve really liked getting to know you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy and I find myself missing you even when you just left. This feeling that I have for you is strong and I’ve never felt this way before. Which is why it’s been hard for me to express my emotions to you and I know you’ve been waiting a while to hear this but I’m telling you now. I want to be with you. Only you.” I tell him. He gives me a huge smile and I suddenly feel a big weight come off my shoulders. It feels so good to finally tell him.

He takes my hands in his and leans in for a kiss. I lean in as well and press my lips against his for the first time. Nothing has ever felt so right.

As we pull back, I look into his beautiful brown eyes and before I can even stop myself, I blurt out “I love you.”

He leans his forehead against mine, smiling sweetly at me. “I’ve been dying to hear you say that. I love you too, (Y/N). I have for a while now,” he tells me. I smile and kiss him again.

“Come on, let’s go back,” I say. He takes my hand in his and we walk back to the bonfire. Everyone is sitting around the fire now, watching us intently.

“Soooo, did it finally happen??” Jared asks.

I smile at Embry as we sit down. “Yes, he is my boyfriend now.” I tell them and they all cheer. I laugh at their excitedness and lean my head against Embry’s shoulder, our hands still intertwined. He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it, making me smile.

“It’s about time!” Paul exclaims.

In a way I’m glad I waited for the amount of time I did. Because it couldn’t have happened at a more perfect time or place. Surrounded by all of our friends, at our favorite place. But lately, anywhere with him is my favorite place. And that’s how I intend to keep it.

~~~

Here’s part two! I absolutely loved writing this! I thought it was just so cute! Embry would be the sweetest boyfriend! I hope you like it@kpopgirlbtssvt!

Requests are always open!