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angelrari · 9 months

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gossip girl · pt. ii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hi! thank you so much for the comments and the love gave to the first part. i am so excited about this!! i hope you like this part a lot!

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gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

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the event was extravagant. the guests were all notable people, from celebrities to businessmen, and the tables were perfectly decorated, filled with the finest wines and delicious food prepared by the best catering in town. it definitely was a party to remember, that would be talked about for years and it would solidify jolie's reputation.

"hi, sweetie". you heard a familiar voice say behind you and quickly you turned around.

"oh, hey mom. you look gorgeous". she smiled at the compliment and grabbed the hem of her dress to show off, which made you smile back to her. "where is it from?".

"chanel. it hasn't been the same since karl passed away, but virginie viard does things right, sometimes". she showed her disappointment with a wry face. "you also look fantastic, sweetie".

"thank you, mom". you took a sip of champagne. "where's dad, by the way?".

"oh, he's talking to the red bull kid. what was his name? martin? marcus?".

"max, mom".

"exactly, him. your father decided to invest in red bull a few years ago, after charles and you broke up, and it seems like the kid made him win a lot of money". she explained. "you know, your father doesn't know how to have fun without involving business in it".

"i guess somethings never change". you said and she nodded in agreement.

"look at them". your mother said and discreetly signaled with her gaze. jolie and arthur were dancing together, looking like they were having the time of their lives. "they remind me of-".

"charles and i". you interrupted. "i do feel that way too, but jolie keeps saying they are just friends".

"your sister is ambitious, maybe a little too much, and she won't settle for a formula 2 driver".

"i know". you sighed. "maybe i have to remind her i started dating charles when he was in formula 2".

"please, do. i'd love to have a leclerc in my family and now that you won't-".

"mom!". you interjected and she laughed in response.

"they are nice kids! and their mother is a wonderful person". she added and you rolled your eyes at her words. "anyway, you should go and talk to charles, he asked me about you earlier".

"let me get drunk first, maybe that way it will be less awkward".

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the autumn wind made your cheeks turn red and your hands cold. you were at the rooftop of the casino, where only a few people were. you were exhausted from avoiding charles and léa. somehow seeing them together made your stomach turn. what if they already felt this way when charles and you were dating? were there signs? did you miss them?

"y/n". you heard someone say and jumped at the sound of their voice. you turned around to face them, with both of your hands on your chest, feeling the heartbeat increase rapidly.

"oh, god". you breathed out, embarrassed by your reaction. "you scared me, max".

"sorry, i didn't mean to". he quickly apologized, smiling back at you.

"don't worry". you said. "how have you been? it's been a long time since i last saw you".

"eveything's good, yeah. i've been working a lot, but that's not exactly new, and things have been working well for me so far". the dutchman explained. "how about you? your father told me you were studying at harvard?"

"yeah, i just finished a master in business administration there and i came back a couple of days ago. i rushed it a bit to be able to attend to jolie's birthday today".

"and how come you're here?".

"to be honest, i kind of wanted to avoid some people". you answered and he laughed.

"right, charles and léa".

"i didn't name anybody!". you quickly replied and he chuckled.

you stared at the sea, feeling max join beside you. a cold wind breeze made you shiver and you moved your hands up and down your arms to warm your body up. max, who had noticed, took off his black blazer.

"here, take this".

"oh, no, you're gonna be cold and-".

"please". he pleaded and you nodded. he placed the black blazer and your shoulders and you smiled sincerely.

"thank you, max".

"it's nothing". he said and looked ahead of him. "i'm trying to get away from your dad and his friends". he confessed.

"i feel you, they just don't know when to stop. my mom has been also chasing me, telling me to go talk to charles and, please don't tell him, but that's the last thing i want to do".

"don't worry, i understand. it mustn't be easy to see your ex and the girl who used to be your best friend together".

"it's not". you agreed. "it's just- many things come back, you know? i do wish them the best and i hope their relationship lasts, but somehow it makes me question so many things. i keep thinking when did all of this start and if they liked each other when charles and i-. fuck, sorry, i'm drunk and i'm talking too much".

"it's okay". he reassured. "i know you probably don't like the advice i'm about to give you, but i think you should talk to them".

"i know, but léa hates me for leaving and i don't wanna mess things up between charles and i more. jolie and arthur are such good friends and i am scared of the consequences. i just- i don't want to start a war".

"you know this way you will never find peace, right?". he asked and you nodded. "you're gonna see them often. that's the downside of monaco. you're gonna attend the same events and you're gonna hang out with the same people". he turned around and his blue eyes starred directly at yours. "there's just no way to avoid this".

"i know, but i'd rather not do this tonight". you confessed. "thank you, max".

"what for?".

"for all of this. you probably have better things to do and here you are listening to my problems".

"well, you're helping me hide from your father, so i think that makes us even". he joked and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"i will keep your secret too".

"please, do". he begged. you starred at the moon, but he starred at you. "what are you thinking?".

"about how to leave this party without my parents noticing".

"well, i've got an idea". he said. "follow me".

max put out his hand to you and you took it. you followed him to the elevator and when you reached the first floor, where the party was taking place, he slyly guided you to a back door you didn't know it existed.

"you know, most times, when we come to the casino, we enter through this door". he explained. "people who don't want to be seen use this".

"right".

max quietly opened the door, praying nobody would be outside, but unluckily your dad and his friends were smoking near the exit. you looked at max, who starred back at you worried, grabbed his hand and started running so your father wouldn't stop you.

"y/n!". your father exclaimed.

"sorry dad! see you!". you said still running to max's car.

max took out his car keys and opened the door of his porsche for you. you sat on the front passenger seat and, a few seconds later, he joined you, sitting on the driver's seat.

"i swear the adrenaline rush i've got it's better than when i race". he said chuckling and afterwards he started the engine of the car.

the city lights let you appreciate the ocean blue in his eyes. max focused on the road ahead, but his smile didn't fade. he was attractive. hands on the wheel and eyes locked on the road, you could sense the confidence on his driving and somehow you felt safe.

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taglist: @cha-hot @carlandonorri-s @raizelchrysanderoctavius @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @crlsummer

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 months

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Binary Star

Part II

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he’s done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Part I

P.S. Academic rival -> CEO!Gojo

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When he spots her name in the stack of papers his HR left on her desk, Satoru gets a brain freeze for a second. Couldn't be the girl he had once studied together with, no. It's been what, more than ten years since he had last seen her? It must be some other woman wearing the same name.

But he can't just leave the paper be, immediately taking it in his hands while the manager makes a confused face: Satoru only looks at the candidates' profiles when they are aiming for the high management positions in his company, nothing less. This woman, however, applied for the middle-level position, only recently becoming a senior at her old job. Why is the CEO looking at her CV so intently?

All Gojo sees is the name of the school they both graduated what feels like a hundred years ago, and he knows it's her. It's the girl who was his one and only rival, someone he had finally considered his equal when they both were fighting for the position of a valedictorian. It's her. He can finally understand what has happened.

Not that he wasn't searching for answers right after graduation. Knowing Shoko sometimes hung out with her, he was showering the girl with questions until she groaned something about the family of his classmate moving and that it's likely he would never see her again. She didn't tell why. Said she had no idea.

It's true, Satoru sees now: his old rival did move god knows where, nearly half across the country to a place he didn't even know existed. Some tiny city, he thinks as he googles the college she attended only to realize that it is, in fact, a community college. Community college? For someone as talented as her? Was she out of her goddamn mind? Even if she, for some unfathomable reason, didn't want to go to Harvard like him, despite her scholarchip, she could have chosen any other decent place with her marks. How could she do this to herself?

He continues reading the resume, the memories of her annoyingly pretty face fresh in his mind as if it all happened just yesterday. Internships at some tiny companies, assistant positions, and other entry-level jobs she should have never taken in places he has never heard of either... Until she finally moved here about two years ago and started slowly climbing the career ladder. Unfortunately, her CV leaves Gojo with more questions than answers he expected.

"I want you to interview her," he finally says to his HR manager, who's been shifting in her seat impatiently ever since he had taken the printed papers from her desk. "And if she says yes, I want to know when she'll come."

He isn't sure why he's doing it. It's been far too long to be holding any grudges, and, honestly speaking, he isn't angry at his old school rival. Curious, perhaps? This must be it. He just wants a closure of sorts. He wants to know why she has abandoned everything she believed in, even if it's selfish of him to be prying into her past. Clearly, something had happened. Something horrible.

Did she get pregnant, maybe? Gave birth? Remembering her father, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the reason they had to move. And yet, she didn't seem the type to do something like that... Not when he had never seen her speaking to boys outside of school, and even then, she would only be talking to them about lessons and future college or university prospects.

He has to have some patience, Satoru thinks. Surely, she'll accept the interview and come in person.

And she does, walking in the building - Gojo watches her from above, peering down from his fancy cabinet with enormous windows - just two days later. She looks somewhat different - not that he didn’t expect her to change after all these years - but there's the same air about her, he can feel it in his bones. It makes him strangely nostalgic, and he starts to itch to go down and talk to her the second she waltzes into the office of his HR. He needs to know why she left. Her secrets are making him restless like a child.

He needs to see her face when she realizes he's both the owner and the CEO of the company she wants to work for.

After giving her about 10 minutes, Gojo runs down the building as if he's a boy chasing an ice cream truck. He needs to see her. The itch that has been dormant for almost ten years is almost unbearable now, and he has no time to waste before she disappears again from his life.

"Yuki, I have a question..." he starts as if he has no idea she's conducting an interview at this very moment, making a surprised face and almost shouting the name of the woman he once called his equal. "Woah, I can't believe it! Is it really you?!"

Satoru knows it's not right to be that happy about her baffled - if not fearful - expression, but he can't help himself. Here she is, the girl who could never shut up in class whenever a teacher asked them a question, sitting in the office he built with the money he earned, not borrowed from his father. He is where she has always wanted to be, Gojo is sure. Geto would probably smack him for being a smug bastard in front of a woman who surely has nothing against him, but Satoru feels ecstatic.

Until he sees she is not only scared: she is terrified. Why? Is it because her old rival ended up doing much better than her? She must be feeling upset and jealous, but she shouldn't be horrified. There's nothing to be scared of. Is she worried she won't get this job because she thinks Satoru is a manchild who can't forgive her for their silly school competition?

Or is she scared of him?

He doesn't like the thought.

"I'm so happy to see you!" He adds with a too-wide smile. "What are you doing here?"

It's concerning how she bites down on her lower lip, nearly ripping the thin skin covered in lipstick.

Thankfully, Yuki finally acknowledges his presence with an awkward smile, "Mr. Gojo, good morning. I apologize, but we are in the middle of a job interview. If it's alright with you, I'll come see you a little later."

The woman in front of him still doesn't utter a single word, and he feels like she'll escape him again if he lets her. With a dramatic sigh and a smile so wide it's a wonder how his face hasn't cracked yet, he announces to her, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry for interrupting! But you'll wait for me after your interview, alright? We can go grab a coffee together! It's not like it's against our company policy, right, Yuki?"

If eyes could kill, he would definitely be dead by now because his HR is ready to stab him with a fork she once stole from a cafeteria and is now keeping in one of her drawers. Satoru isn't that suicidal yet, so he quietly leaves her office before his old rival can utter a single word.

Now, this is about to get interesting.

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Tags: @minshookie29 @mononlogue @whore-for-hawks @theoriginaluzisimp @khatte @brooke-gvf @nimuelis

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #yandere #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader

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universalitgirlsblog2 · 30 days

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🍥💗YES , I CAN🍥💗

💗This is part 2 of my series - Love , me II

🍥Alot of times people underestimate our abilities, they will impose their limiting beliefs on you too . It can be hard when you don't get support from someone you need it the most but make sure that someone isn't you. You should always be there for you.

💗Elle Woods proved her loser boyfriend wrong , he broke up with her because he thought that she was another dumb blonde . He underestimated Elle , however Elle didn't care. She believed in herself. She proved him wrong. Warner was imposing his own limiting beliefs too , he himself got wait listed. He got in Harvard because of his privilege, not because of his intelligence or hardwork. Most of the time when people are saying that we can't do something , they are telling us their own ability.

🍥Failure isn't the end of the world, Rejection isn't the end of the world. Criticism isn't the end of the world. They are blessings in disguise. You can use these things to make yourself the best version of you.

💗There are countless examples of people who weren't supported or others didn't believe in them but they still achieved their dreams . They proved others wrong. Being delusional and believing in yourself is the key .

🍥When people are saying that you can't do or achieve something which you really want to , the worst thing you can do is take their words personally. Don't take their words to heart. What they are saying is a direct reflection of their own limiting beliefs. Moreover , they are not the CREATOR of your reality. You are the creator of your reality.

🍥" Anytime someone tells me that I can't do something , I want to do it more " - Taylor swift

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natashaslittlegirl · 1 year

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Romanoff's Assistant

Just graduated from Harvard with a master's degree in psychology, Y/N looks for a job and finds it in a not-so-expected way at Romanoff's company, the most famous psychology studio in New York. (october 2022)

Boss ! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant ! Reader

Warnings: +18 MINORS DNI. Mentions of child abuse, lots of mommy issues, abusive mother, psychology's cases, +18 lenguage, smut, threesome (not many warnings because is really soft)

NEW FANFIC VERSION (Wattpad's old version)

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Characters / Story's aesthetic / Playlist / Additional information in chronological order

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff's Masterlist Romanoff's assistant account

#Romanoff's Assistant #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #wanda maximoff #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff smut #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen smut #black widow #lizzie olsen #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #wanda maximoff fic #wanda marvel

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sbrown82 · 1 year

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THE FULL HISTORY OF THE MICK JAGGER & MARSHA HUNT (A.K.A. “BROWN SUGAR”) RELATIONSHIP!!! (PART 1)

First, some background on the model, singer, actress, novelist, playwright, activist, icon, 60s goddess, and the woman who inspired one of The Rolling Stones’ greatest hits, “Brown Sugar”, Marsha Hunt. She is often described as London’s own Josephine Baker and is celebrating her 77th birthday today!:

Marsha A. Hunt was born on April 15, 1946 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and is the youngest of 3 children. Her mother, Inez “Ikey” Hunt, worked in an airplane factory during World War II, and her father, Blair Hunt Jr. graduated from Harvard and became one of America's first Black psychiatrists.

Marsha was raised in a middle-class neighborhood mostly by her mother, aunt, and grandmother who had roots in the deep south (Mississippi delta) and who she’s described as an “extremely aggressive and ass-kicking independent woman.” Her father committed suicide when Marsha was 9 years old (but she never found out how or why).

After moving out west to California with her family, she graduated high school at the top of her class and later attended UC, Berkeley in the mid-’60s where she wanted to study psychological anthropology.

While at Berkeley, she became friends with a slew of interesting people like activist Mario Savio and Huey P. Newton, who later became one of the founders of the Black Panther Party.

[TOP LEFT: Marsha’s mother Inez Hunt; TOP RIGHT: Marsha’s father, Blair Hunt Jr.; BOTTOM LEFT: Marsha at her home in Philly with her father & siblings, Pamala & Dennis; BOTTOM RIGHT: Marsha’s high school graduation photo in 1964.]

Even though she thrived academically and was very involved in student activities, she became bored with college life and wanted to experience life outside of the country and pursue her real passion – music. In early 1966, she sold her car and some books, and trailed off to London with only $1.83 in her pocket.

Around that time, London was THE city to be in, and was even dubbed “Swinging London” for being the epicenter of art, culture, fashion and of course music, especially due to the popularity of famous acts like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones.

When Marsha first arrived, she slept on the floors of mutual friends, took odd jobs (including one as an au pair), and even appeared as an extra in Michelangelo Antonioni's box office hit film, “Blow-Up,” which also featured the British rock band, The Yardbirds.

SHOCKINGLY, in that same year she actually saw The Rolling Stones in concert for the first time during their UK tour at the Royal Albert Hall in London because she wanted to see Ike & Tina who were the supporting act on the bill. Girls were going crazy over the Stones, but of course, she was more impressed by Tina’s show-stopping performance! (Purrrrr 💅🏿)

[LEFT: Marsha in 1966; RIGHT: The Rolling Stones performing at the Royal Albert Hall in London with Marsha in attendance.]

After roaming the city, making new friends, and trying to find steady work, Marsha ended up auditioning for a blues band fronted by British blues musician, Alexis Korner, who was looking for backup singers. Coincidentally, he was the exact same guy who gave The Rolling Stones their start back in 1962. Later on, she was offered another backing gig for Long John Baldry’s band, Bluesology. John is also a longtime friend of The Beatles and The Rolling Stones.

Though she loved music and worked really hard at it, Marsha always claimed that she was never a good singer. People in England just assumed she was because they thought all Black Americans had talent.

She then lived with English blues singer, John Mayall, who actually wrote a few songs about her including, “Marsha’s Mood” and another song coincidentally called “Brown Sugar”. Around this time, she became good friends with the founding members of Fleetwood Mac, famed British artist Kaffe Fassett, and keyboard player for Bluesology, Reg Dwight (a.k.a Elton John).

[LEFT: 19 year old Marsha sporting a wig in London; RIGHT: Marsha with a young Elton John].

Around the time Marsha broke things off with John, he was also putting a new band together, which included a young guitarist named Mick Taylor, who showed up at the audition without a guitar. He later became another good friend of Marsha’s.

In late 1966, Marsha met musician Mike Ratledge from the British rock band, Soft Machine. At the time, she was having trouble getting a visa extension to stay in England, so the two got married on her 21st birthday. She later claimed it was a marriage in name only as they were not romantically involved and “never held hands and never kissed".

[LEFT: Guitarist Mick Taylor & John Mayall in the mid-60s; RIGHT: Marsha’s “husband” Mike Ratledge of Soft Machine.]

That same year, Marsha’s hair started to fall out from using chemical relaxers, and after wearing wigs for a while, she finally cut it all off and vowed to never straighten it again. Hence, why she started sporting her iconic afro hairstyle which made her quite a showstopper in London.

In 1968, she found luck when she was cast in a buzzy new rock musical with an ensemble cast called “Hair.” The musical became an instant hit in London’s famed West End. And even though her character “Dionne” only had two lines, she suddenly became the face (or the hair) of “Hair”. The show was a huge success, and also became quite a sensation and a social landmark because it highlighted controversial subjects like drugs, casual sex, profanity, nudity, and anti-war rhetoric. While there, she met another close friend, actor Tim Curry.

[BOTTOM: A poster of the hit musical “Hair” that debuted in the Shaftesbury Theatre in the West End, 1968.]

Her life completely changed overnight and she instantly became a PHENOMENON, attracting wide media attention. In fact, after the musical’s opening night, the editor of British Vogue sent her a huge bouquet of flowers and wanted her to pose for a photo session, which ended up being a 4-page spread with a written profile. Marsha was also the first Black woman to appear on the cover of Queen magazine as well.

[LEFT: Marsha pictured as the first Black woman on the cover of Queen magazine; RIGHT: Marsha photographed for British Vogue in 1969.]

She immediately became a sex symbol, celebrity, and the face of the “Black is Beautiful” movement, which was already taking over America in the mid-60s. This helped her snag lots of modeling gigs and everyone wanted to photograph her. (I mean, sis was booked & busy!!!)

[BOTTOM: More of Marsha’s most iconic shots. *The melanin was melanating, 4C afro was on deck, eyelashes poppin’, lips bussin’...she was a *bad bitch*!!!]

In March 1969, she signed a contract with Track Records, the same independent label that also repped the British rock band, The Who and Jimi Hendrix, as she later said, “There was one luxury that London celebrity afforded me: the freedom to be myself without a single apology for my gap, my freaked-out hair, my brown skin, my slave-class ancestors or my radical views.”

Around this time, she also had a short-lived love affair with Marc Bolan, the singer and founder of the English rock band, T-Rex (even though he was much shorter than her 😂.)

She scored a few minor hits during her underrated music career with singles like a cover of T-Rex’s “Desdemona” and her debut single, a cover of “Walk on Gilded Splinters”.

[BOTTOM: Marsha performing the T-Rex cover “Desdemona” live.]

The record soon went to the charts, and that spring, she was asked to perform on various shows, including a popular British TV program called, “Top of the Pops”. During her live performance on the show, the tight bolero suede top she wore nearly came undone and partially exposed her breasts, a wardrobe malfunction that gave her the reputation of a “bad girl.”

NOW…Here’s the part y’all have been waiting for. Get your popcorn. Y’all got it? Ready? Good!!! 🍿

After her performance aired, Marsha soon received a phone call out of the blue from Jo Bergman, the then secretary for The Rolling Stones on behalf of the band’s frontman Mick Jagger who was actually watching the show live, asking her to pose semi–nude for a publicity photoshoot to promote the band’s new single, “Honky Tonk Women”. She said, “The picture was going to be of a girl dressed like a sleaze bag standing in a bar with the Stones and they wanted me to be the girl.”

[BOTTOM: Marsha performing "Walk on Gilded Splinters” on ‘Top of the Pops’ in May 1969. This was also the exact moment Mick Jagger first laid eyes on her!]

dailymotion

Marsha, who was not a Stones fan, was already established and didn’t really need the extra exposure. She later declined because she had her reputation to think about and said she “didn't want to look like [she'd] just been had by all The Rolling Stones.” She also claimed, “The last thing [Black women] needed was for me to denigrate us by dressing up like a whore” among a band of white men.

ENTER MICK JAGGER:

When she tried to get in touch with Mick to say, “thank you, but no thank you”, he later returned her call in an attempt to change her mind and even suggested he come over as he was very intrigued that a girl would turn him down.

Mick then showed up at her apartment around midnight as she claims, “He was framed by the doorway as he stood grinning with a dark coat ... He drew one hand out of his pocket and pointed it at me like a pistol. His silly 'Bang' was precisely the icebreaker we needed to get over my ungracious hesitation before I invited him in, not sure how to salute a notorious rogue who rings me just before midnight and suggests he pop round on a pretext of loneliness.”

They talked for HOURS, well until the sun came up about any and everything from music to social issues and politics, and according to her, Mick “made me squeal whenever he used Melanigian slang (aka Black vernacular/AAVE).” 🙄🤦🏾‍♀️

Marsha didn’t really find Mick physically attractive at first, stating, “He wasn't beautiful or even striking” however, he was boyish, open, direct, yet seemed quite awkward and shy. She found it a relief that he was nothing like other musicians she’d known or the image the media had portrayed him. He was incredibly charming, intelligent, funny, radical, and straddled the racial line, much like she did. She also quickly noticed that he had a penchant for Black women, as he claimed “They [Black women] just do something to me”.

The two of them had a lot in common and just clicked right off the bat. And things eventually turned hot as they ended up having sex. From there, they embarked on a passionate, but very private, deep romance and year-long affair, at a time when interracial relationships weren’t widely accepted yet.

Marsha didn’t expect to hear from him again, as he had a wide selection of women to choose from, but surprisingly, Mick wanted to see her and talk all the time, mostly because she was great to look at and he could count on her. Marsha said, “He knew that I adored him and that he could depend on me…he realized I respected him as I respected myself.”

Mick’s friend and interior designer Christopher Gibbs once said often when he dined with Mick, women who had slept with him would come up to the table and “he’d have absolutely no idea who they were.”

[LEFT: Mick photographed at the Shaftesbury Theatre in London to see the new musical “Hair” for the first time; RIGHT: Marsha performing in the show.]

1969 was a very rough year for Mick. He was having trouble with his band The Rolling Stones (which he was practically running by himself) because the founder and guitarist, Brian Jones, was becoming increasingly unreliable and spiraling out of control due to his deep drug addiction and legal troubles that led to him having difficulty getting a US work visa to go on an upcoming tour. Mick’s personal life was also a mess because his long-term girlfriend at the time, pop singer Marianne Faithfull, was also a very serious (and sloppy) drug addict, who often embarrassed him and became more dependent and difficult to be around. Things had gotten so bad between them, their relationship grew to be strictly platonic by this time.

Mick and Marianne were quite destructive together and often found themselves in legal troubles due to drugs. Marianne was also quite messy as she previously slept with Mick’s bandmates Brian Jones, Keith Richards, and even left her husband, John Dunbar, for Mick who was dating Black soul singer and former Ikette, Pat “P.P.” Arnold, when they first met.

P.P. also later claimed in her autobiography “Soul Survivor” that the three of them would often engage in drug-fueled threesomes much to Mick’s delight.

[BELOW: Soul singer & former Ikette, P.P. Arnold, who dated Mick from 1966-1967.]

While in London, Mick was still messing with P.P. who later became pregnant with his baby in 1967, but they both agreed to have an abortion, partly due to his growing relationship with Marianne.

[BELOW: Mick arriving at a courthouse with his then girlfriend, singer Marianne Faithfull in 1969.]

Marsha on the other hand, was stone-cold sober and didn’t do any drugs (NOT ONE), which was like a breath of fresh air for Mick, though he dabbled with hashish, LSD, and marijuana among other drugs himself. But unlike those around him, he was able to control his habit.

Even though their relationship quickly turned sexual, they were really, really close friends. Mick often retreated to her home to relax, he told her all his secrets, his troubles – he just trusted her. He was completely enamored of Marsha, who many describe as warm, intelligent, sensitive, funny, and very easy to talk to. He liked that she didn’t go gooey-eyed and weak-kneed in his presence like most (white) women/female fans did. Instead she had a crisply forthright manner and was almost quite “butch”. The Rolling Stones then manager was even quoted as saying that Mick was “obsessed” with Marsha as she was very exotic, and he even gave her the nickname “Miss Fuzzy” due to her afro hairstyle.

Ironically, Marsha enjoyed their well-kept relationship and is one of the only people who often calls him Michael instead of Mick, to distinguish him from his Rolling Stones rockstar persona.

Since Marsha was a fellow recording artist, they were able to be seen together in public without any arousing suspicion—in any case, London still had almost no paparazzi. They would often go to the same parties or events, even with Mick’s girlfriend there, and no one questioned it.

Mick would often pop into some of Marsha’s studio sessions with her band White Trash, and everyone around would be in awe of him.

Later, after officially firing Brian Jones from the band, Mick and the rest of the Stones were in desperate need of a new guitarist. Marsha promptly suggested her good friend, Mick Taylor (Yes, Stones fans – thank Marsha Hunt for that one!), as a replacement for Brian just days before he was mysteriously found dead (he sadly drowned in a swimming pool at his home) on July 3, 1969.

Additionally, when Mick sought a replacement for Jo Bergman, the secretary who handled all The Rolling Stones affairs, Marsha also suggested her friend and tour manager, Peter Rudge - (The same guy responsible for getting the Stones all those huge tours in massive stadiums. Again, thank Marsha!)

Two days after Brian’s death, the Stones played a free concert before a crowd of over 250,000 people in Hyde Park, London, which was previously planned to debut their new guitarist, but turned into a memorial/funeral for Brian. Mick invited both Marianne (who looked a hot ass mess and was in withdrawal from heroin at the time), and Marsha (who showed up looking sexy af with her titties bustin’ out of her buckskin suit) to the concert, and rudely and distastefully opened the show with a song called, “I’m Yours and I’m Hers.”

[BELOW: Mick & Marsha at The Rolling Stones tribute concert to Brian Jones in Hyde Park, London on July 5, 1969.]

Marianne who sat on the other end of the stage with her 4-year old son Nicholas and the other Stones wives/girlfriends, actually saw Marsha that day as she was placed right above the stage in the scaffold VIP section at the request of Mick so that he could look at her while he performed. She later said, “I saw her [Marsha] you know. And she was stunning…If I’d been Mick in that situation, I might have done exactly the same thing.”

Mick arrived at the concert with Marianne that afternoon, but left with Marsha and spent the night at her place where they made love.

A day after the concert, Mick kissed Marsha goodbye, and flew with Marianne to Australia to shoot a biographical film they were both cast in called “Ned Kelly,” based on the infamous bushranger. However, Marianne who was reeling from the recent death of Brian Jones and a horrible miscarriage just a few months earlier, overdosed on 150 Tuinal barbiturates while traveling with Mick, and fell into a coma in their hotel room.

[LEFT & RIGHT: Mick & Marianne arriving in Australia to film “Ned Kelly.” Marianne slipped into a coma just hours later from an attempted suicide.]

At the last minute, Mick was forced to film the movie without her, but phoned and wrote to Marsha, who was extremely frantic and worried about his mental health and emotional well-being, almost everyday. She was scared that he didn’t have the stamina to deal with yet another crisis. He sent Marsha over 10 handwritten letters (some even written on the same headed stationery paper of Chevron Hotel where his girlfriend just tried to kill herself) about his deep feelings for her, his experience filming on set, being in the Australian outback, his new interests, the historic day of the moon landing of 1969, future career plans, his regret at missing her performance at the famous Isle of Wight Festival, and other aspects of pop culture (including “John & Yoko boring everybody…”). The letters also reference the recent death of his former bandmate Brian Jones, Mick’s increasingly difficult relationship with Marianne, and another letter even had the full original lyrics for The Rolling Stones song “Monkey Man”, which was later rewritten.

Mick’s letters also went on to mention the foul Australian winter weather and an unpleasant virus that swept through the film unit, a fire that destroyed most of the film’s costumes, along with various other accidents – including a prop gun that backfired in his right hand. He was just having a real shitty time. So, he found solace writing to Marsha.

His letters to Marsha showed how pensive and romantic he was. He said things like,“I feel with you something so unsung there is no need to sing it...” and “If I sailed with you around the world, all my sails would be unfurled.” He also thanked her for being “so nice to an evil old man like me”. And in another steamy note, Mick promises Marsha: "I will kiss you softly. And bite your mouth too."

[RIGHT & LEFT: Mick’s private letters sent to Marsha while filming “Ned Kelly” in Australia during the late summer of 1969.]

Mick also celebrated his 26th birthday while filming in Australia and Marsha sent him a huge package of books (which he loves) and albums, including her friend John Mayall’s record “Brown Sugar.” Along with his gifts was a note stating how she missed him desperately.

While still trying to rehabilitate his hand from the prop accident, Mick toyed with a new guitar he had and started work on a song he had in his head, which was partly inspired by Marsha and that he initially titled “Black Pussy.” He decided that name was a little too direct and changed it instead to “Brown Sugar” with the lyrics:

[Verse 1]

Gold coast slave ship bound for cotton fields Sold in the market down in New Orleans Scarred old slaver knows he's doing alright Hear him whip the women just around midnight

[Chorus]

Brown sugar, how come you taste so good? Uh huh Brown sugar, just like a young girl should

[BOTTOM: Recording of “Brown Sugar” by The Rolling Stones later released on their Sticky Fingers album in 1971.]

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Mick later confirmed in a 1995 Rolling Stone magazine interview that the song is a double-entendre: “brown sugar” being the street name for unrefined heroin and of course also meaning his seemingly equal addiction to having sex with Black women. The song was a huge commercial success and ended up becoming a huge #1 hit around the world, making it one of the Rolling Stones’ best-selling records to date.

[TOP: A movie poster of “Ned Kelly” which was released in June 1970; BOTTOM: Mick with his guitar composing “Brown Sugar” during filming.]

While Mick was still filming overseas, Marsha was booked to perform at the iconic 3-day outdoor concert, the Isle of Wight Festival on August 30th, 1969. At the time, it was the biggest open-air concert in music history and she was the only woman billed to perform. She was there alongside acts like The Who, Joe Cocker, and even Bob Dylan who hadn’t been onstage in three years.

Mick told her in a letter that he was so proud of her and promised her that he was “there in my head and in my heart.” Keith Richards, Charlie Watts and his wife Shirley, and Jo Bergman were also in the audience watching Marsha perform.

Marsha also made headline news as she wore custom-made leather shorts to which the press ran with and by the next fashion season, short shorts were featured in every fashion magazine. She was the first person to popularize “hot pants”.

[BELOW: Marsha performing with her band White Trash at the Isle of Wight Festival in 1969 with members of The Rolling Stones looking on in the audience.]

After Mick came back from Australia, Marsha was offered a part in a film called “Welcome to the Club” which is a comedy about three Black USO performers sent to Hiroshima in the 1940s to entertain the troops on an all-white base. The film was being directed by Walter Shenson, who had produced The Beatles' films “A Hard Day's Night” and “Help” and shot it entirely in Copenhagen, Denmark.

She was also asked to fly back to London to shoot another cover for American Vogue which was shot by photographer Patrick Litchfield. (They‘d never had a Black woman on the cover before.)

Mick began touring in America again, his first since 1966, and with the number of girls he had access to, she knew he was keeping himself busy on and off stage.

[LEFT: Mick on stage at Madison Square Garden during the Stones’ 1969 tour; RIGHT: Marsha filming “Welcome to the Club”.]

He even started a short-lived relationship with yet another Black singer and Ikette Claudia Lennear, as well sparking up a fling with Devon Wilson, a notorious rock & roll groupie and the girlfriend of Jimi Hendrix who famously wrote the song “Dolly Dagger” about their affair.

[LEFT: Mick arriving at Madison Square Garden in November 1969 with Devon Wilson; RIGHT: Mick backstage at the same event with singer Claudia Lennear.]

But on December 6, 1969 - everything changed dramatically when an 18-year old concertgoer was stabbed and killed during the Stones’ free concert at the Altamont Speedway in California by the Hell’s Angels Motorcycle Club, who was the band’s security. Members of the Hell’s Angels blamed Mick for the incident and subsequent to the concert, put a hit out on him and threatened to murder him. This marked the third major tragedy to happen since Mick and Marsha met each other.

[BELOW: A scared Mick looks on as 18-year old Meredith Hunter is stabbed to death by the Hell’s Angels in front of the stage while the Stones performed at Altamont Speedway.]

Marsha stayed with Mick after the chaos at Altamont, which the media dubbed “The Death of the ‘60s”. By this time, he had officially split up with Marianne and moved Marsha into his house on Cheyne Walk where she helped him to transition and readjust his life. It was then their relationship intensified!

This is around the time she got a chance to know some of Mick’s friends who lived on the same road, including Keith Richards and his girlfriend, actress Anita Pallenberg, who just had a son, but was hooked on heroin. She thought they were both nice, but they’d visit or show up unannounced to their home all the time. Their hard drug-taking also scared Marsha, so she kept her distance and didn’t voice her opinion.

She also met Mick’s parents, Eva and Joe Jagger, along with his little brother Chris who was a bit of a hippie and had just returned from India with his American girlfriend. They both had no work, no money, and nowhere to stay, so Marsha kindly gave them a job, one included painting her new apartment.

That Christmas, Marsha got Mick a puppy and Mick, for the first time, told her that he loved her.

Marsha was in a good place. Opportunities were coming to her fast, she had a new apartment, and she was in love with Mick. She had newfound stability and independence.

In January 1970, they were having dinner at the celebrity hotspot restaurant Mr. Chow’s when Mick said that she’d be a good mother and that they should have a baby together. Prior to this Marsha thought she was just another girl he fancied, as he was a notorious womanizer. But the talk of having a baby made her feel special to him. Her feelings for him were so deep that she also claimed, “I would have died for him.”

She knew Marianne miscarried around the same time Keith Richards’ son Marlon was born. Mick also missed family life with Marianne’s son Nicholas, so wanted to give having a baby a second try.

This fool literally made Marsha take out her birth control and IUD coil, they proceeded to have sex like rabbits, and when she found out she was 3 weeks pregnant, she told Mick who was ecstatic.

Marsha literally said to him, “Listen, if you’re not ready and you changed your mind about this, it’s okay.” She was totally ready to get an abortion. But he assured her that it was what he wanted and he was happy.

They had their first argument when it came time to naming their baby. Mick wanted a boy who he could send to the prestigious Eton School (the all-boys school where Prince William & Prince Harry attended), and he proposed that they call the baby ‘Midnight Dream’. Marsha wasn’t having it and even said, “Imagine sticking your head out of a window to call your child home and yelling, 'Midnight. Midnight! Time for tea.’”

She'd known that he and the band were leaving England for tax reasons and moving to France in the coming year. The Stones were also gearing up for their upcoming European tour.

Even though she loved Mick, he was young and she claimed she was “all for Mick doing his own thing”. They were supposed to be the sophisticated embodiment of an alternative social ideal — parent-hood shared between loving friends living separate lives.

This was around the time of the sexual revolution and people were exploring different types of relationships. Marsha didn’t find gratification in being “Mr. So and So’s” wife, plus Mick wasn’t the marriage type either. He was the type of guy to get up at 2pm to start his day - so marriage was sort of off the table. Though, unbeknownst to Marsha, Mick has thought of proposing, she claimed their relationship “thrived off her being supportive” and she loved to see him “run free”. And since she grew up in a matriarchy, the ideal of a man and woman living together seemed nice but unnecessary. They agreed that Mick would be a good absent father while he made his music and toured with The Rolling Stones, and Marsha could still have her own life and career. It was all very modern!

Marsha also feared that her association with Mick would crowd out her own identity. She didn’t like the limelight because it was a discomfort. She also never wanted to be known as Mick Jagger's girlfriend (can you blame her? So many of his girlfriends tried to commit suicide). Like him, she wanted her own independence.

By June 1969, Marsha told her band and the press that she was pregnant, but did not give up the name of her baby’s father. However, one little clever ass reporter actually found out it was Mick Jagger and threatened to print it. She thought of suing but asked the Stones PR team to link him to another girl. She managed to get through her pregnancy without a media frenzy or being linked to Mick even though they had stepped out together many times, and he was ready to have it reported.

While Mick was away touring in Europe, his phone calls got less frequent. The tour was a bit crazy, and although Mick invited her to go to Paris, he knew she'd refuse – she didn’t want to get caught up. But he told her he was lonely and had met someone in Paris that he was taking to Italy. Her name was Bianca. She was Nicaraguan and spoke little English. Mick didn't mention her again, but after the tour, Marsha knew that she had moved to his house in England.

His publicist sent her an invite to the premiere of his corny movie, “Ned Kelly,” but he didn’t show up. He also invited his parents to the event and it was there she realized that the bastard didn’t tell them that he had a baby on the way. Mick hardly lavished praise on his parents and even once told the press, “I owe them nothing. They are my parents, that is that…but there are no dues to be made by me to them!”

By her third trimester, having a baby became her whole reality and his passing fancy. He started to forget that the baby was HIS idea.

Despite Marsha carrying his child, practically all references to her and the baby were quickly airbrushed out of his life. Chris O'Dell, Mick’s PA in the early ‘70s was even quoted as saying, “I never remember him talking about their child. In fact, I wasn’t aware of a baby being around at all. It was almost like [his first child] didn’t exist.”

Marsha was put in a difficult position because it was too late to go back and sometimes he’d phone her like nothing ever happened. She claimed his mood would change so quickly, he was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. She also said, “I've discovered that he can burn hot and suddenly cool to below zero.”

She started to worry that he didn’t care anymore, so, she tried to squeeze in any and every piece of work she possibly could to hold her up during and after her pregnancy (tv shows, photoshoots, etc.). She also volunteered at a local mental-care center in the autistic unit caring for a 12 year old boy to keep from feeling useless.

[BELOW: A heavily pregnant Marsha performing in late 1970.]

At the same time, Mick also did a lot of peculiar interviews, either stating he wasn’t interested in having children or flat out dissing Marsha. During a 1970 interview with London’s Daily Mail newspaper he even said, “For me, life has always got to be on the move and exciting. I love kids, I really do…but it’s not something I’m thinking about.” He of course failed to mention that Marsha was expecting their first child.

[BELOW: Mick during an interview referencing Marsha & his unborn child in 1970.]

Once it was time for her to give birth, a hard-up Marsha was ashamed and reluctant to ask him for any contribution because he never once offered. Mick ultimately gave her a measly £200 to get by, which came with a note saying “I know I haven’t done right by you” and he also “loaned” her a ring he always wore.

She had initially planned a natural home delivery to keep the press at bay and because it was the “it” thing to do at the time, but was told by her OB-GYN that her baby was in danger and that she had to go to the hospital the next day.

On November 3rd, she dragged her own luggage and hailed a taxi to the hospital only to be told there weren’t enough beds. Panicked and scared, she went back home quite sure she was going to die from an unassisted childbirth.

When she went back to the hospital the next day for an induced labor, she checked in with her married name “Ratledge” to protect herself (and Mick). On November 4, 1970 after hours of labor, she gave birth to a girl she named Karis and phoned Mick first and then her mother. That day was the first time Mick actually told his now girlfriend, Bianca, that Marsha and his baby existed.

While waiting in the maternity ward, the nurses also forgot to feed Marsha who was so hungry. But being on The National Health, she didn’t complain.

When she checked out of the hospital, Mick sent a bouquet of red roses, a miniature muse figurine for the baby, a silver spoon, and some cheap Indian earrings for Marsha. He “dropped by” two days later to see his baby but was in a hurry to be somewhere else.

10 days later, he paid another rushed visit, but she eventually took him to the side because she wasn’t in the mood to entertain his detachment. And she was kinda like, “Hey! What’s up with you? Why don’t you call or come around more often for the baby” trying to get some genuine reaction out of him instead of keeping her at bay with the polite chitchat bullshit, in which he snapped and yelled at her, “I never loved you” and told her that she was “mad to think that he had”. Of course Marsha, hormonal, stitches still in, burning and all, did not expect for him to stab back and immediately started to cry, which only made him more angry. The piece of shit even had the audacity to threaten to take her newborn baby away from her if he chose. She stopped and in a stern voice said, “Try it! I’d blow your brains out!!”

In that moment, the loyalty she had for him was gone. She had no choice but to push forward and tried to find as much work as she could to support herself and her baby.

[BELOW: Marsha & Mick after the birth of their first child Karis Hunt in late 1970.]

READ ‘PART 2’ HERE!!! ☕️☕️☕️

#marsha hunt #mick jagger #the rolling stones #brown sugar #rolling stones #interracial couple #black women #karis jagger #music #history #rock history #rock & roll #musicians #thread #gossip #old school tea #1960s #1970s #sbrown82

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loneberry · 9 months

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September 11, 1973: On the 50th Anniversary of the Coup in Chile

Today marks the 50th anniversary of the coup d’état in Chile, when a fascist junta led by dictator Augusto Pinochet overthrew the democratically elected socialist government of Salvador Allende. For those of us who are on the left, the story should be familiar by now: Allende had charted a ‘Chilean way to socialism' ("La vía chilena al socialismo") quite distinct from the Soviet Union and communist China, a peaceful path to socialism that was fundamentally anti-authoritarian, combining worker power with respect for civil liberties, freedom of the press, and a principled commitment to democratic process. For leftists who had become disillusioned with the Soviet drift into authoritarianism, Chile was a bright spot on an otherwise gloomy Cold War map.

What happened in Chile was one of the darkest chapters in the history of US interventionism. In August 1970, Henry Kissinger, who was then Nixon’s national security adviser, commissioned a study on the consequences of a possible Allende victory in the upcoming Chilean presidential election. Kissinger, Nixon, and the CIA—all under the spell of Cold War derangement syndrome—determined the US should pursue a policy of blocking the ascent of Allende, lest a socialist Chile generate a “domino effect” in the region.

When Allende won the presidency, the US did everything in their power to destroy his government: they meddled in Chilean elections, leveraged their control of the international financial system to destroy the economy of Chile (which they also did through an economic boycott), and sowed social chaos through sponsoring terrorism and a shutdown of the transportation sector, bringing the country to the brink of civil war. Particularly infuriating to the Americans was Allende’s nationalization of the copper mining industry, which was around 70% of Chile’s economy at the time and was controlled by US mining companies like Anaconda, Kennecott and the Cerro Corporation. When the CIA’s campaign of sabotage failed to destroy the socialist experiment in Chile, they resorted to assisting general Augusto Pinochet's plot to overthrow the democratically elected government. What followed was a gruesome campaign of repression against workers, leftists, poets, activists, students, and ordinary Chileans—stadiums were turned into concentration camps where supporters of Allende’s Popular Unity government were tortured and murdered. During Pinochet’s 17-year reign of terror, 3,200 people were executed and 40,000 people were detained, tortured, or disappeared, 1,469 of whom remain unaccounted for. Chile was then used as a laboratory for neoliberal economic policies, where the Chicago boys and their ilk tested out their terrible ideas on a population forced to live under a military dictatorship.

It shatters my heart, thinking about this history. I feel a personal attachment to Chile, not only because my partner is Chilean (his father left during the dictatorship), but because I’ve always considered Chile to be a world capital of poetry and anti-authoritarian leftism. The filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky asks, “In how many countries does a real poetic atmosphere exist? Without a doubt, ancient China was a land of poetry. But I think, in the 1950s in Chile, we lived poetically like in no other country in the world.” (Poetry left China long ago — oh how I wish I’d been around to witness the poetic flowering of the Tang era!) Chile has one of the greatest literary traditions of the twentieth century, producing such giants as Bolaño and Neruda, and more recently, Cecilia Vicuña and Raúl Zurita, among others.

To commemorate the 50th anniversary of the coup, the Harvard Film Archive has been screening Patricio Guzmán’s magisterial trilogy, The Battle of Chile, along with a program of Chilean cinema. I watched part I and II the last two nights and will watch part III tonight. It’s no secret that I am a huge fan of Guzmán’s work, and even quoted his beautiful film Nostalgia for the Light in the conclusion of my book Carceral Capitalism, when I wrote about the Chilean political prisoners who studied astronomy while incarcerated in the Atacama Desert. Bless Patricio Guzmán. This man has devoted his life and filmmaking career to the excavation of the Chilean soul.

Parts I and II utterly destroyed me. I left the theater last night shaken to my core, my face covered in tears.

The films are all the more remarkable when you consider it was made by a scrappy team of six people using film stock provided by the great documentarian Chris Marker. After the coup, four of the filmmakers were arrested. The footage was smuggled out of Chile and the exiled filmmakers completed the films in Cuba. Sadly, in 1974, the Pinochet regime disappeared cameraman Jorge Müller Silva, who is assumed dead.

It’s one thing to know the macro-story of what happened in Chile and quite another to see the view from the ground: the footage of the upswell of support for radical transformation, the marches, the street battles, the internal debates on the left about how to stop the fascist creep, the descent into chaos, the face of the military officer as he aims his pistol at the Argentine cameraman Leonard Hendrickson during the failed putsch of June 1973 (an ominous prelude to the September coup), the audio recordings of Allende on the morning of September 11, the bombing of Palacio de La Moneda—the military is closing in. Allende is dead. The crumbling edifice of the presidential palace becomes the rubble of revolutionary dreams—the bombs, a dirge for what was never even given a chance to live.

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mybeingthere · 4 months

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Cousin of Edward Gorey, Ken Morton, recalls: “Cats were the only love for Edward. Even more, according to somebody, he loved cats more than people. Perhaps, in some ways, they replaced him family. And in his house cats could do what they wanted. For example, sleeping on his beard, shoulders when he was watching TV, on the table at which he worked”.

Artist and author Edward Gorey (1925-2000) was a child prodigy. He taught himself to draw by age two and to read by age 3, he skipped early years of school. Prior to college he served in World War II from 1943 until after the war. After which he attended Harvard where he was very active in numerous artistic interests and then went on to become an illustrator for Doubleday Anchor. There, he designed more than fifty covers and became recognized as a major commercial illustrator. Gorey moved through multiple other publishing houses before going free-lance in the mid-1960s. It’s said that he created covers for over 300 books of other authors in addition to his own, personal creations.

As early as 1939, Gorey began exhibiting his delightful art and in 1953 he published what is considered one of the early pre-cursors to the graphic novel movement, The Unstrung Harp. It didn’t take long for Gorey’s writings and art to begin receiving serious critical reviews and praise.

In 1972 he published his first anthology, Amphigorey – this is the book by which I discovered his works and fell ever after in love. I went on to collect Amphigorey Again and many of his individual prints and books of art. I love his quirky cross-hatch prints and books so much that I began attending auctions in search of first editions and signed works. Perhaps my favorite is The Gashleycrumb Tinies in which “N is for Neville who died of ennui.”

What I love most about Gorey is that his creations refuse to be categorized. All of his artwork seems to come together in a tone of casual, impending doom. His work is so N is for Neville_Goreycompellingly original that their specific aesthetic is referred to as “Goreyesque.” Part of their delightful eeriness is how all the art and stories seem to unfold in a setting that feels somehow outside of time. As if he has bottled a moment we would never stumble across in life but feel is all too familiar to us in its absurdity. Most of all, his works, even his commercial work, reflects what all of us as artists desire most. He lived how he wanted and made work that called to him. Many people believe that his life was his art but I believe his art was his life as a self-actualized individual.

https://necessarywhimsy.com/.../artist-introduction.../

https://www.edwardgoreyhouse.org/.../edward-gorey...

https://www.newyorker.com/.../edward-goreys-enigmatic-world

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joannaliceevans-fanficblog · 3 months

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Evermore: The Proposal

Hi everyone! So, this One Shot is a flashback, to when Ari was a Sargent Major and Reader was a Freshman in College.

It's your first year at Boston College and you are working towards your degree in English and your teaching degree. Your roommate, Holly, has been nothing but amazing. She's a history major specializing in World War II. At the same time, you were on a soccer scholarship. You could have gone to Syracuse, Chapel Hill in North Carolina, or UConn. But you decided on Boston College since it’s closer to home.

Your family asked why you didn't apply for West Point or the Naval Academy or even the Air Force Academy. You could have because you had the connections because your uncle was in politics, your dad was a West Pointer and your aunt was at the Naval Academy.

But you didn’t because staying close to home was your choice.

You didn’t have class on Fridays, but you had soccer practice and a game tonight against Harvard. You reached for your phone before it went off. Yawning, you looked at the time 3:10am.

“Too early!” You mumbled to yourself and kicked out the blankets. Rubbing your eyes and you reached for your glasses and let out a long moan. You carefully got out of bed and grabbed your essentials. After getting ready for the day, you placed on your workout clothes, grabbed your cleats and your sports bag then you were out the door.

After a long day of practice, you made it to your dorm room and went to rest, before getting back to the field for tonight’s game. Your parents, Holly, and your cousin Eric will be there as well. It’s a big game, and it’s against your rival team Harvard. But there is one person in the world that is missing. Ari.

Ari is your best friend and finally made things official just a few years ago, even if you and he were an item long before that. You have told your parents. It was a no-brainer that the both of you have strong feelings for each other. It’s hard at first too. A few gals tried to go after him. And you have to admit, Ari is an eye catcher. You had doubts when he’s away but he's proven to you that he wants you and that he loves you.

But since he’s in the Army, he’s not home as often. Since he’s in training at 501s Airborne Division in Fort Liberty, North Carolina. Phone calls were rare and emails were the only way to communicate. Occasionally you would get a package from him. The long distance is hard and you sometimes would cry yourself to sleep because you missed him.

You arrived at the Newton Campus Field along with your teammates. As you walked in, you immediately went to your locker and went to get changed. You placed on your white jersey #10 (the date of your birthday), your shin guards, long socks and finally your cleats. Then your coach came in and told everyone that it was time to warm up.

You were on the field stretching with your teammate, Jenny, when you saw your parents in the stands. You waved at them then you saw Holly along with Erica and to your surprise, Andy. You laughed and flipped him off to which he laughed.

“You flipped your family off?” Jenny asked.

You turned your head and laughed, “I did, one of my best friends is in the stands with my family.” You said and continued your stretching. It was soon after when the game started.

When halftime came, you heard the announcer call your name and you stepped over to the middle of the field. You couldn’t understand why you’d been pulled away from your teammates at halftime. As you waited for the announcers to quit talking, you scratched at your arm. The main one said something that grabbed your attention, “Her boyfriend of two years, Ari Levinson, has been away serving our country in the US Army.”

Hearing Ari’s name made your heart flutter and a smile crossed your face. Your college mascot approached you holding a bouquet of roses. Confused, you took the flowers. A cheer erupted as a video started to play of you and Ari together. You looked up at the stands where Holly was grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

You were so entranced by the video that you completely missed the mascot starting to come out of his costume. The cheers and clapping got louder. A voice broke you from your reverie, “Y/N, turn around.”

You froze. That was Ari’s voice. Slowly, you turned. What you found in place of the mascot’s head was Ari’s. A grin was plastered to his face as he continued to come out of the costume. Your hands covered your face and tears came pouring down your cheeks. You jumped into his arms. Ari caught you and held you for a moment and you showered him with kisses. Then he placed you back down onto the ground. A microphone was placed into his hands.

“Y/N, over these past many years of knowing you, I have found someone irreplaceable. You are kind, generous, feisty and loving. Your heart is full of love and so ready to give. You make me smile with your beautiful laugh and your giving spirit.”

As he stepped from the costume, Ari’s uniform came into view. He pulled his cap from his pocket and adjusted it on his head, “You have been so supportive of my desire to serve and you take every deployment with patience and grace. When I am away, the only thing that keeps me going is imagining your face. Seeing you on those occasional calls makes me feel at home. You are my home.”

Your eyes widened and tears began to fill them as Ari lowered to one knee. Your hand flew to your mouth. Ari reached into his pocket, “I want nothing more than for you to be my home for the rest of our lives. Y/N will you marry me?”

You were still in shock, and you wanted to say yes, nothing was coming out. But Ari knew, he could see it in your tear stained eyes. He took the ring from the box and he slipped it onto your left hand. You then jumped into his arms and kissed him once more.

Ari let you go and you went on to finish the game. And as the game ended with a 2-1 and with Boston College winning, you had something else to celebrate too. After celebrating in the locker room, your parents, Holly, Andy, and your now fiancée Ari were waiting outside in the hallway. You were showered and changed. By the time you walked out, you saw Ari changed and still looked amazing. Your parents took you, Ari, Andy and your roommate to a nice dinner in Boston.

“So, I assume all of you were in this?” You asked, taking your seat next to your now fiancee.

Your mom, let out a giggle and your roommate did the same. You then also looked at Andy and he laughed.

“Well the proposal was something I wanted to do for a while, but my commander granted me an early leave. So I told your parents, they helped me with the planning. Holly talked to your coach and he made this happen.” Ari said, leaning in and kissed the top of your head.

“I just happened to be in town for the weekend, so I decided to come see your game too.” Andy said, giving you a wink.

“Well, you all are masterminds. I had no clue.” You say, as you grabbed the menu.

One year later, here you stood in the middle of the garden of St. Cecilia Catholic Church. With your bouquet in your hands, and you facing the gazebo. The nerves were rising, and you weren’t sure why you were this nervous. It’s just Ari and no one else. You have waited for this day to come, and it was finally here. You haven’t seen Ari since the summer and since then he’s been busy with new training and preparing for his deployment in Germany.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you smiled to yourself. You turned around slowly, you were speechless. Your beloved Ari was standing there in his Army uniform, with his barrett, his coat showing his medals, his new rank of Sergeant Major and his saber at his side. You saw tears coming down his cheeks and you reached up to wipe them away. He placed his hand onto yours and you both smiled. Ari then placed his other hand onto your cheek and he placed a kiss on your forehead.

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