#ice pick joe fan club

[demonsandpieohmy]

Can’t believe it’s been 50 years since:

“If you were really in love you wouldn’t have missed.” “Time comes for us all Goncharov.” “We’re just meat to them Joe. Remember that.” “I dream of you every night, but I can no longer remember your face.” “If you are a snake, then I am Eve’s trembling hands.”

#truly one of the movies of all time #ice pick joe fan club #goncharov #goncharov 1973 #unreality #lilly rants #1k #2k #5k

[blorbocedes]

fernando/guanyu, hero worship, movie star fernando au

Guanyu justifies spending his sizeable allowance on booking a Saturday night private booth at Flavio Briatore's club with: if he wasn't spending it here, he would've been using it to buy Balenciaga to wear to class. Well, he does wear Balenciaga in the halls of UCLA, but still.

Zhou Guanyu would like everyone to know he is not a stalker.

All of this is publicly available information, such as Fernando's jet landing in LA on Friday, and Guanyu's bookmarked gossip boards confirming Fernando and his girlfriend are well and truly over.

And the Michelin star sushi bar Fernando posted on Instagram story that is impossible to get a booking into, and Guanyu had to beg his father's secretary to use his name.

It's just a hobby, LA is full of celebrity sighting.

Guanyu was five when he first saw Fernando, on a Chinese dubbed telenovela playing a young heartthrob. He was instantly a fan. Over the years, he followed Fernando's career diligently watching him break into Hollywood, and then critically acclaimed movies. Those movies taught him English better than the expensive tutors his parents hired. He remembers staying up late to watch the Oscar's, only to go on a very angry rant on Weibo when Fernando was brutally snubbed. He had posters of Fernando on his wall, followed his career even as it careened to a few disappointing cash-grabs the last few years after a successful stint at directing a one man play. Word on the street is Fernando's producer, Flavio, was using his production company for illegal tax writeoffs.

Guanyu waits, sparkling water in hand and a keen eye scanning the floor; the music slightly muted in his private room with an unopened champagne bottle on melting ice, glittering square table and uncomfortable lounge seats. Maybe Fernando isn't coming, maybe Guanyu's in the club all alone. Maybe he can invite Logan and Oscar next time, and opt out of the private booth in case they're uncomfortable with that. He still remembers the look on their face when they found out he has a personal cleaner come to his dorm.

Just as Guanyu was about to call it quits around midnight, a celebrity entourage with the DJ announcing his welcome -- Fernando walked in.

Even after all this time, Guanyu still feels a little starstruck, like the wind knocked out of him. It's not even the first time he's seen him in person, but the feeling is still the same. Fernando is so handsome, and whatever cosmetic work he's done is tasteful, looking older but striking. Guanyu waits at the bar on the upper floor and sneaks glances at Fernando when he can get away with it, watching him hug Flavio.

Fernando seems to catch his eye, and Guanyu looks away fast - fast, ears burning hot. He knows he's well dressed in his Chanel boots, two older ladies try to approach him and he politely declines, and when he turns around this time Fernando is gone from his seat.

Guanyu tries not to feel disappointment. He stares at his melting ice sparkling water.

"You are my favourite type of fan." The Spanish lilt of the voice by his ear makes Guanyu jump, Fernando Alonso right there beside him. "Beautiful, rich, groupie. Makes the experience rewarding for both of us, no?"

Guanyu wants to protest he's not a groupie but he's stuck on the beautiful, a blush rising from his neck, and Fernando is grinning wolfishly at him. This close, Guanyu feels a little dizzy. He can see his pores, like an HD Getty Image. He actually had a 10 step plan of how Fernando would fall in slowburn romance with him eventually after a carefully planned coffee shop meetcute but this was jumping several steps.

"I keep seeing you, and I don't forget pretty face. What's your name?" Fernando's arm goes around Guanyu's shoulder.

"Zhou Guanyu--Joe, my friends here call me Joe."

"Guanyu," Fernando butchers the pronunciation. "Zodiac sign?" He must've picked it up when he starred in Dragon Warrior: Unleashed in Beijing.

"Bunny." Guanyu momentarily forgets the English word for rabbit.

"Ah. Year of the Rabbit. I remember, from my time filming in Beijing. You are old enough, I will buy you a drink."

Guanyu finds himself being led to Fernando's table, legs walking on autopilot, heart throbbing out of his chest.

"Tell me, bunny, have you ever had a flaming whiskey shot?"

Fernando's grin is shark-like, hand on his shoulder sliding down to Guanyu's waist when he shakes his head no, signalling to his private server.

The rest of the night goes like this: Guanyu's lips close around the rim of his glass, and then it closes around the rim of Fernando's cock.

The sex is an out of body experience. Guanyu is going to compare it to Fernando's sex scenes he has bookmarked when he gets home.

"So, what are you, big Mclaren Heroes fan?" Fernando asks after, referencing his most popular movie that most people know him from, mostly because it was also the film that launched 7x Oscar winner Lewis Hamilton onto the scene. Otherwise, Fernando has just been on the film scene forever, but without the huge blockbuster hits. Guanyu actually thinks the first one is a little overrated, and then the decline in quality in the cashgrab sequels years later that never quite caught the charm of the first one.

Guanyu shakes his head. "I loved you in Minardi. I had a poster. I was 5."

"Jesus, don't remind me, kid." Fernando shudders, getting up. "It was a good run."

Guanyu has a million photos saved of it, but Fernando's back tattoo is still immaculate in person stretching from his nape all the way resting above the dimples of his lower back. He remembers when it was freshly inked and Fernando had posted it on his now abandoned Facebook. There's probably things about Fernando that he himself has forgotten that Guanyu remembers.

"You like?"

Guanyu blushes again, caught. He nods. "It's so cool."

Fernando smiles, maybe a real one this whole evening. "You have to be brave in life, like a samurai."

Fernando puts on a robe, heading to the en-suite bathroom.

Guanyu bolts over to where Fernando's phone is, unlocking it: 3314. He saw Fernando type it before, and it opens. Going to the phonebook, Guanyu saves his number as 🌸🪷💖Bunny🌸🪷💖 (Joe from the club) (Minardi fan Zhou Guanyu); before leaving it back where Fernando kept it.

If he were some lowlife stalker he would've called himself to save Fernando's number, but he's not. He hopes the emoji associations remind Fernando of the good times they had.

The next time Guanyu sees Fernando at the club, he's there with Logan and Oscar, who had invited their friends along too so the private perks and the membership card hadn't been awkward at all -- everyone calling him Joe The Man.

Logan, drunk, collapses on his shoulder with an inconspicuous whisper yell over the music. "Is that, that dude from Heroes?"

He locks eyes with Fernando across the dance hall. This time, Guanyu doesn't look away.

His phone buzzes with a text.

#the core thesis is they both don't see each other as real people here #the recent gif of them inspired this #as well as yandere little guanyu!!! not enough fics of them imo #this is a fic with an audience of 2 mutuals #but if you like it please Lmk! #f1 rpf #my fics #guanando #Fernando/guanyu

[matt-imagines-popcorn]

Wrote these a few weeks ago - just silly little HCs :P

Glass Joe/Aran Ryan [Burnt Bread] Headcanons

Aran, as we all perhaps know - is a gross fucker. No one is safe from his grossness - even Joe, his beloved lover. Sure he might not face it as much as the others do but the few times Aran decides to be nasty toward Joe, it seems nastier then he's willing to give out to the other v̶i̶c̶t̶i̶m̶s̶ boxers. Licking his face, forcing his finger upon his nose after he scratches his ass, threatening to pee on him while showering together (and has - Joe proceed to waterboard Aran), - everything he does just pisses the hell out of Joe.

Don't think it's unsurprising to say that Joe knows a thing or two about bandaging up injuries of any kind (Spending a few years being essentially a punching bag does that!) and isn't afraid to jump in and help some of his fellow boxers out - Aran being very much included in that list. It was hard to get used to but over time Aran grew to love the attention on him. Usually ends up steamy if neither of them aren't too beat up.

Aran is the self proclaimed leader of the Glass Joe fan club, much to the dismay of the clubs founder: Gabby Jay.

Arans immune system is strong as fuck, so when he gets sick, he gets sick bad. The best way to describe it is like watching a bedridden Victorian child. He acts like a big baby about it too, wanting nothing but to be babied. Joe will indulge him for a short while (ignoring the sick man's poor attempts at trying to get physical) till later it becomes apparent that Aran is feeling better and is just playing it up for show.

Now, Joe loves Aran but he willing to fuck him over in this regard. Giving him a full cup of ice with no water, giving him medicine that's actually just sour candy (that one did backfire though as Aran is a sour head), and worst of all, ignoring all temps at Aran trying to kiss him.

Doesn't even take an hour before Aran's suddenly feeling better.

Aran's sisters like Joe, perhaps more so than they actually like Aran. Molly (the youngest sister) probably likes him the best though: Joe has a tendency to spoil the hell out of her with treats and clothes and fun events whenever she visits. Usually, somehow it bites Aran in the ass later but he's willing to deal with anything as long as those two got along.

Can't say the same about Joe's family. Yeah apparently beating someone to a bloody plum and going on to shagging their cousin isn't exactly the greatest way to be familiar with family. Though so far, it's only Jay who seems to have a hatred towards the man. Joe's mom and aunt love Aran and think he's hilarious.

Surprisingly, Aran is the early bird in the relationship, not Joe. He wakes exactly at seven every day (for better or worse) and is usually the one forcing Joe out of bed. Sometimes the smell of his cooking is enough to wake him up but most days Aran just picks him up and throws him back on the bed over and over till he's awake.

On the subject of cooking: Joe can't cook for the life of him. Not because of a lack of skill, but instead horrific luck. Forgetting to set the timer off, mixing in salt instead of sugar (or vice versa), burning his hand - anything that could possibly go wrong will. Aran however has both the luck and skill for cooking and is good at it. He's almost offended when Joe admits he thought he was going to be a bad cook - His mom owns a bar for crying out loud of course he knows how to make a decent meal!

#Punch Out #Headcanons #Glass Joe #Aran Ryan #Ships #Burnt Bread #< fckin love these funky guys

[cyarskaren52]

There really is no one like Ice Cube.

The rapper/actor/labelhead/producer/screenwriter/director/pitchman/league commissioner has done just about everything one can do in the world of entertainment. And to think, it all started with a kid from South Central joining a group his friend was starting from the neighborhood. N.W.A. changed everything, but when Cube made the decision to split from Eazy-E, Dr. Dre, MC Ren and DJ Yella, he set in motion one of Hip-Hop's most storied careers. 

As a solo artist, Ice Cube's social and political voice was even sharper than what had been hinted at in his old group; and over the course of his three-decade career, he's delivered scathing commentary, party anthems, movie theme songs and straight up gangsta shit. He has albums like AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted and Death Certificate that are among the most revered rap classics ever made; and he's dropped club bangers with the best of them. We wanted to salute the variety of that body of work, so we picked the 25 Dopest Ice Cube Songs (Note: No N.W.A. or Westside Connection or Mt. Westmore songs were included.)

#26

"THE BONNIE & CLYDE THEME" - YO-YO FEAT. ICE CUBE [BONUS SONG]

Our BONUS SONG pick is a celebrated classic guest spot! Yo-Yo and Cube team up against for this banger from her third album, YOU BETTER ASK SOMEBODY. 

#25

"PUSHIN' WEIGHT" FEAT. SHORT KHOP

"The Don Mega" and Short Khop teamed up for one of Cube's biggest chart singles in 1997. This N.O. Joe-produced hit raced all the way to No. 26 on Billboard and topped the Rap Singles Charts. 

#24

"GANGSTA RAP MADE ME DO IT"

On this standout single from RAW FOOTAGE, Cube blasts the laziness of politicians and watchdogs using gangsta rap as the punching bag for moral handwringing. As true in the 2000s as it had been a generation earlier.

#23

"WHEN I GET TO HEAVEN" 

One of Cube's most overtly spiritual songs, it was released when Cube had made his much-publicized conversion to Islam. The track finds him taking aim at Christianity, admonishing it as a tool of oppression in America. 

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#22

"AIN'T GOT NO HATERS" FEAT. TOO $HORT

What can you say about icons who have earned a victory lap or two? These two West Coast icons revel in the good life on this breezy track from EVERYTHANG'S CORRUPT. 

#21

"DEAD HOMIEZ"

Ice Cube was only 20 years old when he wrote this elegy to friends lost to violence. He couldn't have known how groundbreaking it was at the time, but the South Central native's tribute is one of the earliest examples of a so-called "gangsta rapper" examining the emotional toll of the streets. 

#20

"MY SUMMER VACATION"

"Snowfall" in the form of a classic rap song. Cube's gift for storytelling and his razor sharp social commentary are both on full display here; as he breaks down how the crack epidemic in America spread from Los Angeles out to the Midwest and beyond.

#19

"YOU CAN DO IT" FEAT. MACK 10 AND TOYA

As far as singles, Cube definitely had a straight-up party phase, and one of his biggest hits as the Y2K era was set to dawn was this hit theme song for NEXT FRIDAY. 

#18

"HELLO" FEAT. DR. DRE AND MC REN

The N.W.A. reunion that fans had been clamoring for finally happened (with the notable absence of the late Eazy-E) on this monstrous single. Even decades later, it feels good to see the Niggaz With Attitudes rolling as a unit like old times. 

#17

"FRIDAY"

The movie that made Chris Tucker a star and showed everybody that even a gangsta could make you laugh. Cube's first comedy turned out to be a cult classic, and the soundtrack featured this anthem for the hood. 

#16

"GO TO CHURCH"

Lil Jon was virtually everywhere in the early 2000s, and Cube wasn't averse to trying on a new style. The rap vet fired a shot for West Coast/Dirty South collaboration with this crunk hit. 

#15

"REALLY DOE"

The sinister opening track for Cube's fourth album LETHAL INJECTION is one of that project's strongest. Cube is in full G'd up mode, and longtime affiliate Lay Law comes strong on this one with the production.

#14

"WHY WE THUGS"

Cube's sociopolitical lens has never left him; and he offered one of his most on-target critiques of American hypocrisy on this epic from 2006s LAUGH NOW CRY LATER. 

#13

"JACKIN' FOR BEATS"

One of the most inventive rap tracks ever made, this classic from Cube's KILL AT WILL EP is also one of the most emulated. Cube kicks one of his most aggressive performances over "stolen" tracks; jackin' everybody from Public Enemy to Digital Underground.

#12

"A BIRD IN THE HAND"

One of the greatest story raps of all-time. Ice Cube delivers a stellar performance as he breaks down the struggles of a newly-released felon, in a system that never really wanted to give anyone a second chance.

#11

"SMOKE SOME WEED"

He might not be as well known for chronic anthems as his homies who were on Death Row, but Cube delivered one of the all-time great marijuana songs on this woozy banger from LAUGH NOW, CRY LATER. 

#10

"WICKED"

A song that channels the anger of the 1992 Los Angeles riots in sound and spirit; Cube unleashes his fury on this thunderous track. The video famously featured Flea and Anthony Keidis of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Cube spits rage at the system following the Rodney King verdict.

#9

"CHECK YO SELF" (REMIX) FEAT. DAS EFX

One of Cube's most famous, and famously controversial, songs, the remix became a monster hit in 1993, with an instant-classic hook from none other than Das EFX, fresh off their own breakthrough a few months earlier.

#8

"WHO'S THE MACK?"

Cube's first solo single features the young rapper examining the game from all angles. As he breaks down everyone from pimps to street hustlers to politicians, Cube makes it clear he's going to a more insightful place than we'd seen in N.W.A.

#7

"THE NIGGA YA LOVE TO HATE"

If Ice Cube has an anthem, it's most definitely this track. Cube gives a breathless performance, highlighting why he's forever going to be controversial—even at this early stage in his career, he knew he'd ruffle feathers. 

#6

"TRUE 2 DA GAME"

Cube bodyslams sellouts of all kinds on this classic single from 1991's DEATH CERTIFICATE. There's a pointed MC Hammer reference, an admonishment of Black men who chase white women as status trophies; and a final thumbs down to Black folks overly invested in the politics of respectability. 

#5

"ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE PROJECTS"

Even though it's early in his discography, it's the song that sets the standard for Ice Cube's storytelling. A frustrated and flustered Cube recounts a tale about trying to meet up with a girl who lives in the housing projects, only to find himself in the middle of a drug bust.

#4

"YOU KNOW HOW WE DO IT"

Cube's first album was Bomb Squad bombast and his second outing was looser, but still hard. After enjoying mainstream success with singles like "It Was A Good Day" and "Check Yo' Self," Cube dropped his most obviously G-Funk-leaning single in this West Coast classic.

#3

"NO VASELINE"

On the short list of greatest diss songs ever, you will find Ice Cube's incendiary firebomb. With his targets set squarely on his former bandmates in N.W.A., Ice Cube unleashes and unloads, aiming and firing at everyone in the group, saving his most scathing indictments for former friend Eazy-E and former manager Jerry Heller.

#2

"STEADY MOBBIN'"

Before his most famous track (more on that in a sec), Cube delivered this bouncy dedication to riding around the 'hood. His storytelling is forever on-point, as he chops it up with the homies, tries to get laid, and, in one of the great rap overshares of all time, apparently takes one helluva dump. 

#1

"IT WAS A GOOD DAY"

There is no other correct No. 1. There just isn't. It's timeless. It's a standard. It's one of the most well-known and beloved songs in the history of Hip-Hop. Cube's ode to a breezy day in South Central, L.A. is the kind of song it seems like everyone can rap word-for-word. That's a rarity, in any genre.

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#hip hop 50 #today in hip hop history #todayinhiphophistory #hiphop #hip-hop #hip hop #hip hop music #hip hop history #hip hop culture #music #history #music history #television #rap #rapper #emcee #mc

[wrestlezon]

aew rampage 9/30/22 liveblog containment zone

dawdled too long picking out grocery store sushi so im like a full 20 minutes late. livebloggin for reals this time tho i got iced tea and everything im amped

acclaimed vs butcher and the blade vs private party

nooo so mean to butcher and the blade dont diss them and their band ;o; us watching caster hold his leg up for the tag team move: lmao?? very excited to see the acclaimed have a new special move: dick and ball destruction its supposed to be a scissor thing but still lmao its nice seeing private party and the butcher/blade wrestle again their little back and forth was pretty cool

backstage with the firm

the gunn club are being sassy backstage. mean to ftr etc etc oh theyre gunnin for the acclaimed huh! we want mjf to interact with max caster soooo bad but

backstage with jade

oh shes so mad. jade on fire oh no its vickie...... oh!!! nyla vs jade!!

lee moriarty vs fuego del sol

dark moriarty is here lmao fuego also has a dark mask. dark fuego its been a while since ive seen fuego. im a fan of the luchas. i also like fuego because he is a silly jobber guy

backstage with hangman and dark order

uno and 10's new masks... i dunno if i like them LMAO maybe i just need to get used to them. they are spookier than their usual ones thats for sure oh no andrade is here causing trouble again. a 10 vs andrade match, mask vs leave-aew-forever? i guess we're gonna see 10's hot face on tv now seriously. he is pretty cute if youve seen him on the wrestlevlogs the firm being catty gossips!! causing trouble! i love ethan page and im glad hes causing trouble with stokely now instead of... dan lambert seriously. what a huge upgrade.

help this ep is moving too fast i cant liveblog it well enough. the iced tea isnt enough. though its probably because im skipping the commercial breaks. thats valuable typing time im missing out on

willow nightingale vs jamie hayter

oh HECK yes now this is the match i was waiting for willow :)c whoaaa jamie hayter's outfit looks soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo good omgggg GIRL YESSS FIGHTTT VIOLENCE why are they not giving willow nightingale all the contract money >:( i hope it is just because wlilow doesnt want a contract and not the other way around. you never know whats goin on behind da scenes AOUGHGHHH NO!!! NOT THE RAMPAGE COMMERCIAL JUMPSCARE DURING THE JAMIE/WILLOW MATCH!!! anyway im enjoying this match. i think theyre gonna make hayter win to push her which sucks because i really like willow ;o; dont make willow job all the time!!!! noooo willow lost... it makes sense.........

warjoe video promo

warjoe is a pretty cute tag team name tbh! also man how cool must it be for wardlow to be tagging with the legend samoa joe.......

in ring promo with ryan nemeth

"not from Philadelphia" LMAO his titlecard tagline hook is here to save us from ryan nemeth heel actions murdered oh! the trust busters are here... are they trying to recruit hook... no way

swerve video promo

its kind of funny/weird how everyone is like "swerve is really really mad about that whole acclaimed thing guys" meanwhile not a primary source in sight, not a word or even a v/o from swerve like true he IS too busy doing cool guy stuff and its not like theyre gonna send a video/audio team off da clock but still

moxley/hangman video promo

:)c yay!! cut a promo against each other LMFAO THE END... "hangman youre in moxley's hometown btw" "aw fuck"

prematch promo with the dark order vs andrade

john silver: "yall are kinda obsessed with 10 lately and its p. creepy btw." that means a lot coming from john silver of the dark order. theyre experts on being creepy perverts alex reynolds and john silver rule. i love the dark order

(upcoming match announcements)

yay!! mjf vs yuta! ohhh!! toni athena willow vs britt baker serena ohhh!! pac vs trent!!!!!!!! TRENT PROMO!!! "and when you hurt one of our friends, we gonna hurt you. we do it legally though. because we're nice boys" the best friends should always be doing promos. rip to the aew editing team but its true and should be happening

john silver vs rush

big fan of john silver the meat man. i hope he wins against rush having him lose and then 10 lose back to back would make me Quite Cross >:( (i mean... theres no way they kick andrade out of aew...) little doc sampson makin sure everything is up to order as rush beats up john silver in front of him tussling around the timekeeper's table nooo!! trashcan move!!! hey if youre gonna do a "the refs need to be more STRICT about THINGS" bit just to get eddie kingston a results-reversal at least be consistent!!! though im pretty sure remsburg is the most lenient of the refs... noooo! john silver lost!!!! im getting preemptively mad!!

i literally did not recognize evil uno in a hoodie. the new mask and him not having his trademark outfit on threw me so off. "who is this yet unknown member of the dark order" i thought hangman!!!!!!!!!! yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hes defending his friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH I JUST REALIZED WHY EVIL UNO AND 10's NEW MASKS THROW ME OFF evil uno's has a half-color split (like 10 used to have) and 10's now does not i do like 10s mask style (i think the slade look is better than what he had before) buttttttt this throws me off maybe thats why i dont like their new masks... hmm

#livezon

[jcamilov06]

@ohneweiterebedeutung you asked me how do I pick my teams 😅 the thing is that it hasn't been the same for all of them, but let me try and explain...

(short version: I often just catch up some random games, become interested in those teams, start researching their history and former players... end up obsessing over the team regardless of the current roster)

When I first started watching club football in 2014, by constant petition from my best friend, he suggested me to start with the premier league, and after watching couple of random games, I remembered how much I liked watching Thierry Henry during the 2006 world cup and realized he played most of his career for Arsenal (in hindsight I'm thinking I could've ended up rooting for Chelsea since Michael Ballack was also one of my favorite players during that time 😶)

I gotta say that for both Borussia Dortmund and Real Madrid, I was slightly influenced by my best friend, because he loved those teams and often than not I remember watching games with him, even though I didn't like football that much at the time. Needless to say I became an inveterate BVB supporter after researching the club history and suffering throghout that infamous 2014-15 season.

Regarding River Plate, I'd say it was mainly due to the 2015 matchup in Copa Libertadores against Boca Juniors, I loved the atmosphere at the stadium when the river player entered the pitch, and all the drama with the pepper spray incident during the second leg of that round consolidated my support for the team ^^ (oh and they also won the libertadores that year hehe)

With Deportivo Cali it was pretty simple: I never really liked América (the other hometown team), and I don't see myself rooting for a colombian team that isn't from Cali, so the azucareros was the choice! (oh and by the time I made up my mind, Cali just reached the colombian league final, so I was able to watched them becoming champions :D )

My first U.S. sport team was the Philadelphia Eagles, and ngl it was mainly because of a videogame 😅 see, I had watched the 2016 super bowl and although I didn't understand the game that much, I kinda like the concept. So I decided to get a copy of Madden and start learning how it is played. At first I went with the San Francisco 49ers because I knew of the name Joe Montana, plus I liked the team name "forty-niners" (I guess this would become relevant when choosing a basketball team to root for haha), but after trying couple of teams, the Eagles caught my attention and by that time there was just one game left of the season. So after I saw them win against their big rivals, I spent the following months to catch up with Eagles game highlights and team history. I still can't believe that the first season I started following and rooting for them, they reached the final and won their first Super bowl!! 🤯

And right after becoming an Eagles fan, I slowly started following some of the other teams from that city (first it was the 76ers, then the Phillies and finally the Flyers, since I never watched ice hockey before that). I felt kinda the same energy with these teams, since they share the same fandom and it seemed like the fans cared for the team in each game (people say philly fans tend to boo their players a lot 😅 I think it's part of their tough love).

#sorry it ended up being this long of a post #idk why I thought it'd be shorter #but yeah... thank you for asking! #I think it is an interesting question to be made #specially like knowing you only have one main team (i don't think i've ever seen you posting about other teams here heh) #idk I remember hearing ''you'd enjoy watching sports more if you pick a team'' #I think I took that serious 😅

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter 6

[December 24th, 1998]

There is something to be said for the peculiar hour of the blue-morning, when a hospital beeps into quiet life. Death rattles behind drawn curtains, expletives are spat over set bones, and shots are taken in the thigh. It is not like Jamie’s Grampian refuge, which springs forth naturally from the earth. Instead, Boston GH scars the landscape, numbing loneliness through morphine drips and the tug of sheer necessity.

It is during this gradual reawakening that Claire hides in a closet, imagines the pink, wet sacs of her lungs contract and expand. She counts her breaths to release the night’s chaos, still lodged deep in her throat.

During the wild evening hours, Claire sees only what exists outside her body. Such an easy thing to do as a doctor, this sudden corporeal separation—a leap into the procedural dance, a temporary loss of oneself to the staunching of blood and the sewing of sutures.

But eventually the window of calm arrives, and the wall of dissociation begins to crumble. Claire, in her closet sanctuary, returns to her body once more, the sight of her arms and her hands like four old friends reacquainted.

Claire hunkers down between two shelves, and relief travels from foot to torso, settling somewhere inside her gut. As always, she has brought her medical bag—a gift from her husband, CER embossed in golden filigree—and rummages through it. As always, she finds the folder and flicks it open, seeking the page that is stowed inside. She is forever tethered to its final sentence, which launches a fresh rip of longing straight to her chest.

And as always, she goes back to the beginning, following the words. Fingers like greedy sponges, text absorbing into skin.

NEW YORK CITY, 11:30AM - The diner hushes when the bell tinkles, announcing the arrival of literary darling James Fraser. He is a giant in more ways than one: six-feet tall, wide-set shoulders, and a critically-acclaimed author with legions of fans. But for all his inches and his clout, Fraser is blissfully unaware of the eyes on his back. When he sits opposite me and shakes my hand, I, like the rest of the world, find him to be impulsively likable.

Sporting one month’s growth of beard and a wrinkled v-neck, it doesn’t take long for Fraser’s roguish charm to earn a complimentary meal. He is quick to thank the waitress, and for not the first time, one has to wonder how the man could possibly be single. Surely his good looks, his talent, and Reformed Bad Boy reputation draws the ladies in?

Point proven: Our waitress lingers, hungry for Fraser’s attention, but he closes his menu after ordering a glass of lemonade. (An odd choice, but then our writing heroes are full of idiosyncrasies, aren’t they?) I almost leap to console the girl, that poor thing, as she runs a self-conscious hand down her apron.

Alas, one gets the impression that it isn’t pickiness keeping Fraser romantically unattached. Nor is it misogyny or closeted homosexuality (despite what those tabloid vipers spit). James Fraser simply enjoys his place in the lonely hearts club—and is perfectly content to stay there, sipping ice-cold lemonade.

Frank’s ring glides across the lines, pauses over “single”. Such a different life, so removed from Claire’s, though here it thrums beneath her hands. Suddenly, her head grows heavier, weighted by the chain draped around her neck. Jamie’s thistle ring dangles there, cold as death. Forever tucked inside her shirts, a secret between her breasts. (Frank lets her wear it, just as she lets him wear his stained button-downs, other women smiling from the collars.)

Fraser’s second and latest novel, Two Centuries in Purgatory, released just last month to stellar reviews. Hailed as a “modern classic” by The New York Times (and truly, it is), Purgatory has found a comfortable seat at the top of the bestseller lists, and shows no signs of losing momentum. Now touring the U.S., Fraser seems nonplussed by the bustle of the Big Apple, his eighth time to our concrete jungle (“I’ve a parade of publisher meetings and interviews tomorrow,” he grumbles). Though he’s a longtime resident of both Edinburgh and Glasgow, he says no city feels like home nowadays. “Where is home then?” I ask him, and in traditional Fraser fashion, he deadpans: “Lost.”

For all his fame and glory, there is something decidedly melancholy about James Fraser. But of course, we all know why. We’ve read his books, haven’t we? We know his story.

Gillian Edgars: Are you enjoying your lemonade, Mr. Fraser?

James Fraser: Aye, verra much so. Lemonade in Scotland doesna taste like this.

GE: Mmmm, exploring the pleasures of America. I like it. Now, shall we begin? Let’s start with Two Centuries in Purgatory.

Claire brings the page a few inches closer. This is not the first time she has read the article, its edges worn to yellowing curls.

A familiar anger sinks its claws into her side as this reproduction of Jamie staggers into a flickering half-life. Gillian Edgars thinks she knows the man behind the book jacket. The entire world, for that matter, believes they can claim the bold-faced names on their hardbacks.

But, Claire seethes, do these people know that Jamie smiles in his sleep? That he’s prone to seasicknesses, could not wink at the waitress even if he tried? No. Only Claire knows these smaller, intimate truths—but still, they are not enough. Jamie is no longer only hers, but a communal being disseminated and shared amongst millions. Strangers have molded her Jamie into something new, into hollow casts of their false impressions.

Without warning, the closet door swings open and Joe Abnernathy leans in. “Knew I’d find you in here,” he says, but he draws up short. His smile falters when he sees Claire on the ground. Falters further still when he reads the headline, "Scotland’s Newest Literary Hero," on the page and on her face.

“Lady Jane, why do you do this to yourself? We’re working, I know, but can’t you try to be merry? It’s officially Christmas Eve!”

Joe kneels down, and levels his gaze with hers—the gentle but silent disappointment of an older brother. Claire holds firm when he pries the clipping from her grasp, the paper snagging the skin of her palm. It glides over and up, a shallow curve that splits into fine, shining rubies. A jeweled J, just at the base of her thumb.

Claire presses the wound to her teeth, tastes the heady, metallic taste of herself. (Later, she will trace the cut with reverence, grateful to be marred, at the very least, by a shade of Jamie.)

Joe tsks and reaches for a shelf, bringing back the first aid kit.

“Perks of hiding in a hospital supply closet. Bandages, everywhere. Take this.”

“It’s fine, Joe,” Claire assures him but accepts the bandaid anyways. “I’m fine—just a bad day and a scratch. See? No significant blood loss.”

“Thought I’d witnessed the first fatal paper cut,” Joe says, but then continues, more softly, “LJ, I thought you’d given this up. That Frank made you promise you’d stop.”

“He did,” Claire replies. “And I did too, for a while.”

Her stomach turns as the memory resurfaces: her husband, feeding the shredder a feast of papers. The machine’s tight-lipped and fanged smile destroying Claire’s collection of articles, her glimpses of Jamie. Frank had held her as the teeth had chewed, tightened his grip when she repeated his words back to him, “Time to leave the past behind.” And afterwards, once the the bin had emptied into the trash, Frank had dragged the bag of shreds to the curb. Claire had looked on, standing in the doorway, a soldier’s wife already in mourning.

(That evening, she almost snuck outside to piece the words together, for old habits die hard and a planet will always yearn for her sun. But then Frank’s arm had risen in the darkness, flopped sleepily across her waist. The weight of it had held her there, and so she’d stayed, picturing the night creatures stealing Jamie away, piece by piece.)

“I just…wanted to see what people were saying. About his new book.” She sighs. “I know I’m being ridiculous. It’s just that…”

“He’s everywhere, isn't he? In the papers, on TV. Saw they’re making a Lifetime adaptation of A Blade of Grass. Jesus.”

Claire nods. “Steering clear of that one.” (But she won’t, of course. Claire will want to see herself and Jamie on that screen, their better, manufactured selves broadcasted in technicolor.)

“You’re really gonna let me down like that, Lady Jane? I thought we’d drink cheap Scotch, put the movie on mute, and invent the dialogue ourselves. Next weekend, the two of us. Drunk and vengeful. Whaddya say?”

“A hard pass, Joe. We’ll be in Oxford for the holidays, anyways. Visiting Frank’s family.”

“Well, la-di-dah. I’ll be on this side of Atlantic throwing popcorn at my TV.” Joe leaps to his feet when his pager beeps. As he walks out the door, his hand flies to his coat pocket and he withdraws a shabby paperback. “Before I forget—a Christmas gift, for the Lady. If you’re gonna scramble your brain with nonsense, let it be Tessa’s ‘membrane of innocence’. Not ‘Scotland’s Newest Literary Hero.’”

Claire laughs and flips through The Impetuous Pirate, inhaling its smell of antiseptic and mildew and the vestiges of long-ago fingerprints. A Harlequin, taken from the hospital waiting room. “Aye aye, captain. But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here in Davy Jones’ Locker for a while longer.”

Joe nods, consoling, before he turns to answer an intern's cries for help.

Alone again, Claire tucks The Impetuous Pirate inside her bag, picks up the discarded article from the floor. For the first time, she notices its publication date, October 20th, was her 31st birthday. She cannot remember the details of the occasion—Did Frank take her to a concert, or to a movie? Buy her flowers or chocolates?—and yet a foreign scene plays so clearly in her mind. It is something cut from the script of her life, the stagehand’s hook pulling her to the wings before she has a chance to speak. Cast in the closet’s dim spotlight, it unfolds as the playact that could have been but never was:

Jamie, in the New York diner, drinking lemonade. Condensation like dew drops, rolling down the pitcher. A young girl in Gillian Edgars’ place, singing a high soprano. And Claire, beside her, blowing out candles in a single huff.

As she slices the birthday cake, this almost-Claire nicks her finger on the knife’s blade. “Kiss to make it better!” the young girl cries, and Jamie does, his lips are on the sting, and then Claire’s mouth. He tastes of citrus, of yellow and sunshine, a marigold paradise in a city of dying autumn leaves. “Does it still hurt, Sassenach?” he asks her. “Not anymore,” she says. And when the little girl giggles, watching them, it is something sacred. She licks the frosting from the candles. “So what’d you wish for, Mama?” she asks, not knowing that, in a moments like these, there is no need for wishes.

Claire’s pager rings, rearranging her memories. Now she remembers her 31st birthday—and knows it did not happen in that diner. On that day, there was no little girl; no citrus kisses in a molting New York.

Instead, Frank had taken Claire to the opera house, a drawn-out affair they had both fidgeted through. Back at home, he had led her to the bedroom and its king-sized bed, had slipped off her dress while she kept her chain on. “Talk to me,” he’d panted, silver thistles against her chest. And when she came, it was not Frank’s body that drew her cries. It was not Frank’s name that rose from her lips.

Claire scans the article, skipping again to the final paragraphs. Here lies the line she reads over and over, the very reason she shells $15 for subscriptions and scavenges in bins for scraps. Anything to discover some evidence of herself, some proof that she still lives in the peripheries of Jamie’s life. And whenever she finds it, it pours into her and lingers, like wine.

GE: Your debut was quite impressive—an instant bestseller, an Oprah Book Club pick, an upcoming TV movie. I’m sure you’ve been asked this before…but allow me to be a hack for just one moment. Let me ask the nosy questions. Let me pry.

JF: I dinna have a fear of rats [SMILES]. Get on wi’ it then.

GE: I appreciate it, Mr. Fraser, I do [LAUGHS]. The protagonist’s struggles in A Blade of Grass—the financial woes, the criminal record, the years of solitude—they seem to mirror your own. Is it accurate to say that the book is autobiographical?

“Randall?” a voice calls from outside the closet. “Randall, are you in there? Mr. Duncan in Room #18 needs to be—”

“Prepped for surgery, I know!” Claire finishes. Her voice is shrill, rising with her goosebumps as she nears the interview’s end. “I’ll be out in a second, Dr. Hildegarde!”

JF: In some respects, aye, A Blade of Grass is autobiographical. Mind, I made a lot of it up myself. Embellished a few things.

GE: Oh yes, certainly. But even without your embellishments, your life does make for such an interesting tale. In a way, your struggles are what made you a literary sensation. But still, I do wonder—do you regret any of it? The gamble, the money, the arrest?

JF: [LAUGHS QUIETLY] I thank ye for the compliment, Ms. Edgars, but I hope my sins are no’ responsible for the book’s success. And for the record, they were largely exaggerated by the press.

GE: Ah, right. We rats are despicable creatures, always desperate for crumbs. But they never fill the belly, not really.

JF: Have ye tried poetry before, Ms. Edgars? You’ve a knack for it [LOOKS AWAY]. But nay, it isna the crimes themselves that I regret most. Whether they were exaggerated or no.

GE: Really? There’s something else [LEANS FORWARD]? Will you tell me then, your life’s biggest regret? Or will you keep me and your readers in the dark, forever wondering what keeps our beloved James Fraser up at night?

Now Claire closes her hand into a fist, forces herself to bleed out from that thin, half-mooned J. She imagines Jamie’s face, inscrutable to Gillian Edgars, but fixed in an expression that she, and only she, can read. And if Claire had been there on that October afternoon, sitting in the diner’s vinyl booth, she would have understood. Would’ve known already what Jamie regretted most, what he would and could not say aloud. For within this precious, final line—their spoken and unspoken wishes:          

JF: My biggest regret? I let the story end early.

(JF: I should have loved her better—God! I should have loved her better.)

_______

I have very few comments about this one, but I will say A) Jamie’s POV comes much more naturally to me—probably because I, like Jamie, love Claire so frickin’ much—so writing this was like pulling teeth. And B) As I was writing this chapter, I knew it was time to bring Jamie and Claire back together. Even I was rooting for them to reunite.

I love Joe and Claire’s friendship, and I wish I’d shown more of it in this fic (although what’s here I think fits pretty naturally). And I have to say...I love Geillis—or the idea of her: witchy, feminist, and confident—a whole lot, despite her Voyager crimes. Here, she is my Outlander version of Harry Potter’s Rita Skeeter, and I could write an entire fic from her voice any day.

#outlander #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #myfic #i am so bad at dialogue!!!!!

[jboofan]

The River where the Moon Rises

She told him she would meet him there, at the river where the moon rises. In his heart Jungkook knows one day she will come.

Chapter 4

Joe-ra blinked hard at the clock behind her. Another late night in the Big Hit studio and another hit song coming she was sure. She had no lyrics for this song just yet, but she had woken from her sleep humming a tune and remembered dancing to it in her dream. She'd hummed it again until she recorded the loose rhythm and had been holed up in the studio every night since.

It was always the same story; most if not all an evening well after closing she'd make her way to the building. She'd nearly been discovered one time when someone had left their bag in the same practice room as her, and after that she waited til late before making her way there. The guards knew who she was, and once in, she made her way to the studio that was always booked under an alias.

Sound proof and safe she was able to record backing tracks of her next album, one she never knew the release date for, but being in the studio let her work on music and visualisation. Maybe she was delusional or overly positive but she hoped that somehow her voice would come back. Too much googling on the subject hadn't done anything to alleviate her fears but keeping some sort of routine anchored her for now. She'd worked her whole life to be a singer, made it and then lost it all.

Perks of a well off family afforded her every hobby she wanted, after music it would be dance. Whether hip hop, jazz, tap or ballet she loved every form. Earphones on, ballet shoes on, to keep limber she'd practice old routines, modify some to newer music or on a bad day she would simply lie on the floor staring at the ceiling. Sometimes grief overtook anything, and lying there silently crying was what she did best.

Knowing for a fact that no one was there to disturb her, it wasn't difficult to visualise the choreography she wanted, even if she couldn't sing the lyrics. Joe-ra always felt the music through dance and it allowed her mental blocks to ease away. Dancing melted away her stress but tonight nothing was doing the trick.

Realising it was a full moon tonight in a wintry Seoul made her way alone to Cheonggyecheon Stream to soothe her soul. Every Saturday she could manage, Joe-ra pulled her coat closer to herself as she watched the almost frozen stream. Eyes closed she listened to the trickle of the water push against the crackle of ice shards as it travelled down the man made stream. The place was usually desserted, and she was pretty sure she'd be in trouble if her manager found her out here so late, alone but none of that ever seemed to matter in the moment.

The picturesque views made a small smile bubble to the surface of her mouth as she took in the twinkling lights, as the sun came into view across a hazy Seoul sky. Joe-ra's memories somehow pulled her back briefly to that night of crazy intense almost mythical sex in that club, promising she would keep in touch, even bravely mentioned that she would meet him here; close to the Cheonggyecheon Stream Steps. But then everything changed.

Joe-ra stared off into the distance. Would he have turned up? She'd dropped her phone soon after and lost a whole bunch of messages, and found when she was ready to speak to him that she couldn't. Oh what cruel irony! She'd played the scenario over and over in her head. Would she have been able to tell him she couldn't speak? Would he have wanted to stay if he had known?

Forlorn of hope, her eyes found the moon. It's large silvery grey figure hovered high in the sky reflected in the ice below.

Ass now numb from having sat there so long alone on the same stone step, and heart feeling colder, Joe-ra willed her legs awake, rubbing her jeans to warm herself up, as she dusted herself off and made her way towards finding a taxi to take her back to the studios.

Sitting amongst the stone steps allowed her to clear her mind, that or run away to her grandmother's home in the country. She struggled to remember the last time she had gone to see her mother's family but now wasn't the time for thinking. It was time to go home, sleep and forget everything.

Jungkook watched a heavily coated woman wait nearby, usually around the same times as he usually did. She was here late today though, not that it mattered to him; she sat back, staring up at the full moon tonight, she was near enough he could see some reflection of the moon upon her face. She was soon up on her feet and getting ready to walk away.

Tonight it was emptier than usual, most likely down to how cold it was, it seemed only him and that woman had made the journey out. He blinked back heavily, his head was full of haziness and he stopped feeling the cold hours ago.

Everyone ignored each other and that was fine with him. No following cameras, no bright lights, screaming fans or struggles with privacy. But his usual late night friend across the stream was leaving and he felt lonely again.

Guess I'm not the only lonely person in this city he told himself, staring mindlessly into the stream a little longer before eventually heading back to the dorm.

Joe-ra walked towards the subway entrance, the walk along the steps wasn't long. She'd noticed the same guy sitting on the opposite side as she always did but he never bothered her, therefore she had no reason to pay him too much heed. She had to cross over the walkway to reach the exit, and the one on his side was closer.

An empty bottle of soju rolled across from the man, as he groaned loudly.

Ignoring him and wanting to simply get home to her warm bed, rubbing her hands together Joe-ra kept walking. The guy's groans were getting louder and it was getting more difficult to ignore him. Then she heard it.

A loud sob escaped him as he fell over several empty bottles at his feet, beginning to wobble now as he tried to steady himself. She walked away stopping near a wall. Damn her conscience. Why wasn't she walking away?

Swearing inward for possessing a shred of courtesy to the rest of the human race, and against her better judgement Joe-ra carefully thought about walking back across the stepping stones linking both banks of the stream toward him and running away.

Jungkook was sure he was drunk out of his mind. He should have stopped himself from reaching for that first bottle, let alone the fifth and then the sixth; but lately his heart just felt so heavy he didn't know how to handle it. Eyes seeing double vision, face firmly on the ground he blinked hard as a pair of black heeled boots walked ever closer towards him.

Oh shit don't let it be the police. Or Nam Joon, please be the police over Nam-joon he sobbed again, half drunk but fully wallowing in his own self pity.

Joe-ra reached in her pocket for a tissue. The idea of touching anyone made her skin want to shrivel up, and she most certainly wasn't going to touch some random drunk. Sighing as she realised she had none, Joe-ra pushed her hand into her coat and used the sleeve to try and paw at him to try pull back his hood with no success.

Getting as close to his face without being too near, Joe-ra studied his face. Nope no idea who this was. She gasped as she saw two full ears with rows of earrings.

A smaller but colder hand moved his hoodie off his face, kneeled down beside him and picked his hair out of his eyes delicately.

Joe-ra sighed. This poor guy's eyes were almost sadder than hers.

Jungkook couldn't see who this stranger was, but they were awfully quiet in their actions. No swearing or shouting. Just sitting him upright, moving his mask carefully which was pathetically hanging off one ear off and brushing it free of the dirt.

Joe-ra couldn't believe her luck. Of all the drunk shits to have stumbled upon, it had to be one of her father's employees. In the most famous band since forever, swaying from side to side and mumbling some rubbish she couldn't uncipher.

Pulling her jumper sleeve out further, she cleaned his face gently of loose grit and stone. His eyes were closed, a small restful smile on his face as her hands moved across his skin, a clean sleeve dabbed his moist eyelids carefully.

Joe-ra moved away a moment, her knees starting to hurt but his arm shot out and grabbed her leg making her wobble and grab his head to stop herself falling.

She shook her head. "Man, I do not want to be you when Nam-joon sees you," she wanted to say, but instead tutted at him, head shaking.

Jungkook sat on the ground holding onto her waist tightly, head against her stomach.

Fighting him off didn't seem to do anything. His grip was solid like someone was trying to take his favourite toy away from him. Nestled against her and getting comfortable he wasn't budging.

Giving up and lowering her head over him, Joe-ra found his hands and held them in hers. After a few minutes Jungkook held them back, realising it was still her hands, and she managed to eventually help him to his feet.

Two cold hands grabbed Jungkook's face and made it stop from falling side to side. Satisfied that his eyeballs were no longer going to roll back, but still very aware that the sun was now going to be rising fast; and with it other people had Joe-ra worried that they would be caught.

Needing to hail a taxi and fast, Joe-ra thanked the submissively drunk that was Jungkook for not struggling or causing a fuss. She held out her hand and he took it. They walked slowly but surely along the walkway, as they reached the steps.

Joe-ra held his warm hand and climbed a few steps, but he suddenly stopped moving. Sleepily he managed a half step suddenly falling on her, causing her to scrape an exposed knee across a step, as his whole weight fell into her back.

Her eyes rolling back in pain, knowing trying to scream out loud would have had no use, Joe-ra resisted the urge to smack him hard instead hitting him in the chest and letting go of his hand in frustration.

Try and do something decent and get injured for it.

Pulling herself upright again and really wanting to push him down the stairs herself, Joe-ra walked off, dusting her hands off.

"Dasi tteona jima," he looked at her drunk and upset. Don't leave me again he kept repeating to her as she realised holding her hand out of his reach made him look around for her and walk towards her. "Why do you keep wanting to leave," he mumbled, "I said I'd come, be here. Stay with you. Why did it take you so long to come? I waited. I missed you. I missed you," he told her sadly, his hands grabbed her face and apologised.

"Mianhe," he hugged her tightly on the steps, afraid to fall she grabbed onto the side rail and him with the other. "I knew you would come. In my heart, I knew you would come. I didn't mean to drink so much," he sniffed, "don't go. I want to show you to them. You're real. And I knew you would come."

Totally confused, and starting to feel sorry for whatever heartbreak he seemed to be going through, she awkwardly patted his back and moved away. Holding out her hand he climbed the steps one by one to hold hers.

Joe-ra used this unorthodox method until they were able to find a taxi, and she literally shoved him into the back of a cab, pulling his hoodie over his head even lower as the taxi driver gave them stand looks.

Clearing her throat and holding out her phone for the plaza location he nodded and turned back to pull away.

A warm hand felt across the seat, found her fingertips, pulling her hand next to his as he tried to pocket her fingers into his jacket. "Jagi, you have such cold hands. I need to give you gloves," he pulled her closer to him, "I need to look after you. Then you won't leave," he snuggled her hands in his. "Cold hands," he kept mumbling as she tried her best to contain her anger at him. Reaching over and pulling his seat belt over him, Joe-ra was sure he even giggled? For someone that Nam-joon had described as a shy muscle bunny, he sure was talkative when he was drunk.

Her finger hovered over Nam-joon's name, she should tell him who she found, but they were nearly home now, and if she was honest she wasn't sure how he was going to react, and worse she get in trouble for being somewhere she shouldn't be.

She stopped. It wasn't like she had done anything wrong so why was she afraid? But if her father found out? Shit she was not ready to even comprehend what would happen if he found out one of his golden boys was getting up no good. She couldn't be associated with that.

His head rolled forward and she cupped it in time and pushed out back. Jungkook held her hands and snuggled into her neck causing her to awkwardly try and strain away from him. She was gonna have to boiled herself when she got home.

Eyes now rolling, she sat as far from him as she could, giving up when his big head kept flipping back and forth as they moved through morning traffic.

"Are you awake? I need your help 148." She typed it quickly hoping he would see it.

Mouth dry as they approached home, Joe-ra was desperate to unbuckle him and get him out the taxi as quickly as she could.

Narrowly avoiding the doorman she managed to get him into the lift where he was adamant he now lie down and sleep.

Punching their floor as hard as her fingers could she had to get him to their private floor to avoid any other residents, the image of her father absolutely pissed off at her actions spurred her on to wildly punch the number until the doors closed.

A quick side glance told her the idiot was still awake and Joe-ra let out a massive sigh as the doors opened to their floor and it was just them. The silence was unnerving, as was the way he wasn't letting go of her hand.

Refusing to leave the lift, Joe-ra kicked him in the ass and he was starting to focus again.

"Are we home my jagi?" he slurred again, enraging her even more. He watched her slender figure impatiently tapping her foot and reached out her hand to him.

"Baby, Oppa missed you," Jungkook grabbed her arm and slid a hand over her shoulder and turned to face her, pulling her into a tight hug. "I missed you so much," he sniffed, hitting his chest, "it hurt so much."

Jungkook hastily pulled his mask off and held her face closely. Big eyes startled and surprised stared back at his.

"Baby," he asked her softly, "did you miss me? Did you think of me?" his voice cracked.

What was that saying about drunks and honest answers? And why did his touch feel not sleazy for use of a better word? Why did she have so much food still in her fridge?

Random thoughts drifted out of her mind as Joe-ra, in the lights saw just how shit faced Jungkook was. Definitely not the same dude gracing the TV, this guy was so drunk and no amount of good looks could mask how pathetic he looked before, or heartbroken now.

Joe-ra nodded her head woodenly.

Jungkook perked up, so happy at her answer. "You did?!" he kissed her cheek. "I'm so soft for you. Don't tell the others." He stared at her until she nodded again.

Jungkook allowed the pretty lady to tuck his hair behind his ear, smiling at the intimate skinship. Reluctantly moving a hand under his jacket and feeling for his waistband Joe-ra yanked on his belt to grab hold of something in case he suddenly started going sideways again.

Groaning under his weight the walk to his apartment opposite to hers seemed never ending. Confident they were no longer about to be found out, Joe-ra let out her breath, and was prepared to drag him by the ankles to the front door if she needed to.

Patting his face to wake him from his stupor she pointed to the digital keypad, hoping he would somehow know his combination to get in. Several minutes of just staring at it and groaning had her ring the doorbell several times hoping someone was in to take this fucker off her hands.

**

Incessant rings of the doorbell woke the guys from their sleep. It was never a good thing to be woken that early especially when their manager wasn't due for another few hours.

Jin, a light sleeper, had the misfortune of opening the door. Before the eldest could get a word out, Nam-joon no longer in his dressing gown but shorts and a t-shirt was rushing toward the shoe rack to grab shoes and check on her.

Unfortunately it was just at the same time as Joe-ra stumbled through the door with Jungkook.

"What the fu—" came a voice, and even Joe-ra knew shit was gonna hit the fan now.

Arm drooping over her, Jin helped walk Jungkook to the kitchen table, the nearest place he could sit himself down.

Nam-joon looked at Joe-ra and then Jungkook as she tried to loosen his vice like grip from her hand. Joe-ra felt Nam-joon's angry face staring into the back of her head.

"Ah," the only sound she could roll as she yanked on her arm free of a sleeping drunk who somehow still wasn't letting go. Whimpering as she rubbed her elbow as it smacked on the table.

Joe-ra's head was pulsing as she realised the magnitude of the situation and to be fair, she didn't really need to be hanging around to witness it. Not when she saw how angry Nam-joon was.

Standing awkwardly with his jacket in her free hand, she made eye contact with Nam-joon as the others slowly made their way into the living room area. Instinctively she held out her free hand to Nam-joon to free her from the drunk mess but she quickly recoiled on noticing that vein in his forehead popping. She knew that look, he was gonna blow and kill them all.

Jimin was trying to not freak out as they watched Nam-joon's eyes start to bulge and slowly turn wide, as J-Hope desperately did his best to wake up their drunk friend, slapping his face repeatedly.

"Ya, pabo wake up," Hope tried to shake free Joe-ra's arm, looking at Joe-ra and apologising for Jungkook but Jungkook had held on for dear life.

"No she's mine," he sniffed now grabbing her with the other hand pulling her into a hug. "I've missed you jagi."

"Um, are we missing something here? He really has a girlfriend?" Jin asked shocked.

Eyes massive now, Joe-ra struggled against him, trying to hold out her hand to anyone that would grab it, as her friend neared. She knew the sibling code, you don't date your brother's friends and she definitely wasn't.

Nam-joon squared in on Jungkook and it really did look like he was going to lunge at the youngest when Joe-ra spotted it and grabbed his arm haphazardly and tried to pull him away for fear of being injured in the crossfire.

As much as Jungkook was still heavily drunk, Nam-joon getting so vexed wasn't going to help right now.

"How? When—" he spoke in English, Nam-joon's anger wasn't letting him get a word out. "Ya," he roared, hands on his waist, trying to digest the situation, "where—" he pointed fingers at them again.

"Why is our yeppeun neighbour here so early? And why is Kookie hugging her?" Suga had arrived in his pyjamas as he read the tense room, in his usual deadpan voice.

"Anneaseyo," he spotted her and gave her a polite nod.

"Um, hyung, isn't that our neighbour?" Taehyung answered confused. "I thought she was Kookie's girlfriend. Our neighbour is his girlfriend? I thought she was American?"

"That," Nam-joon laughed angrily, "is my sister."

#kpop imagines #jungkook #jk bts #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #BTS #bts #jungkook imagines

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter eleven: art whores

After they had had their cups of coffee, and Sam took the honor of checking out of the hotel for herself, she stayed in the passenger seat next to Dan with her shirt off the whole hour long drive up to Boston. He had rolled up his otherwise short sleeves up to his shoulders, and showed off his muscular arms all the while; he also had borrowed a little rubber band from inside of the glove box; his mirrored sunglasses reflected the early morning sunlight the whole entire way up the freeway. Every so often, she took a glimpse behind her to Joey, who had propped his hair over the back of the seat so it would be up off of his neck. He squinted his brown eyes against the amber sunlight and he bowed his head a little bit from the intense glow over the continual skyline of small towns to the right.

“We're gonna swing by another hotel to pick up Frankie,” Dan finally said at one point over the roar of the freeway

“Sounds good!” Sam declared as she gave her dark hair a slight toss back.

They took the next exit off of the freeway into a part of town near the Massachusetts state line: there was in fact a little hotel there and Frank stood under the exposed stone stairwell with his lush dark hair sprawled over his shoulders like the floppy ears of a dog and his mirrored sunglasses upon his face; Sam thought about Joey's old apartment at the very sight of him. He nodded at them and showed her a grin once they rolled up to the parking spot before him.

“Hey, all o' youses,” he greeted them; Joey slid to the seat right behind Dan, and Frank climbed in next to him.

“I like this look, by the way,” he said to Sam.

“I got hot last night,” she explained with a shrug.

Joey muttered something to Frank, which brought a little chuckle out of him.

“What's goin' on back there?” Dan demanded.

“Fuhget about it,” Frank said with a wave of his hand, and he buckled into the other passenger seat.

They rolled out of that spot and doubled back to the freeway for the rest of the way up to Boston.

Sam thought about what Zelda and Belinda had said the night after Cliff died, and she knew she was doing them justice by being in that car with those three men. She was headed for yet another brand new place that she never really knew about before and had only dreamed of in the past. She knew she would have to put her shirt back on at some point, but the feeling the cool coastal breeze on her chest and belly was something she hadn't done before, not even back home in California.

Within time, the skyline emerged under the amber sunlight: Sam spotted a large Cisco sign off in the distance. It seemed like the kind of place that had only cobblestones for streets and had horse carriages all around. When she peered out the window and beyond the freeway, she spotted a few alleyways down below that did in fact have those old earthy faded cobblestones all underneath the lush green oak trees. She wondered if it really was how she believed it to be once Dan took the next exit for the venue, a long low dark building called the Paradise Rock Club, nestled down in the heart of downtown about a block from the freeway: if she didn't know better, Sam swore it was movie theater, especially since the black sign over the front doors read ANTHRAX, TESTAMENT, and special guests THE CHERRY SUICIDES in large white lettering.

“This is also the very first time we're touring here, too,” Dan explained as he rounded the corner to the back alleyway.

“What better way to celebrate than for a couple of dates,” she exclaimed.

“Right?” Joey laughed.

“I guess this place is literally right by the college,” Dan continued, “so we might be seein' a lot of people of your caliber tonight.”

“I hope so,” said Sam. They rolled up to the pale white back door, which hung slightly ajar for them. Once Dan killed the engine, Sam put her top back on and fixed her hair before she climbed out with them. They were alone there, but Frank rounded the back side of the car and joined up with her.

“Can I tell you something?” he started in a soft voice. “This has just been—eating at me for a while now.”

Dan held the door for them, and she and Frank stepped into the cool, dimly lit back hallway first. Joey sauntered past them towards their dressing room, and then Dan followed suit.

“Hey, Joe—wait up—” he called after him, and that left Sam and Frank alone; he took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt collar, and then he ran a hand over his smooth crown of lush dark hair.

“What's up?” she asked him.

“Really hope you don’t get mistaken for a groupie,” he admitted in a soft voice.

She frowned at that. “Why’s that?”

“Because groupies are often seen as whores or just women who sleep around with the band. I don’t want my best friend to be seen like that.”

“They won’t know that, though,” she said, albeit with a nervous feeling in her stomach.

“But that’s always the assumption, though,” Frank insisted. “You can’t stop people from assuming shit about you, even when you know in your heart that it’s not true. Not saying I don’t want you around—not at all. I love the fact you’re going to be with us for most of the summer. But what I am telling you is what you’re about to see when you come along with us more and more. And if you don’t believe me, let me show you what the people have been saying about your girls, the Cherry Suicides. Calling them the ‘n’ word, especially Morgan and Minerva; calling Rosita ‘fake’ because of her nails; calling Zelda a skinny bossy bitch. All kinds of nasty shit. We love and embrace our female fans, but most of our crowds don’t. How have they acted with you and Marla?”

“Like… we’re not even there,” she recalled.

“There you go then. Again, I’m not trying to be ‘that’ guy, but it’s just the truth. If only there was a way I could protect you from it, though.”

“You can always be like, 'hey! Quit pickin' on my friend!' or something like that,” she suggested, but he shrugged his shoulders.

“That's just a worry I've had,” he continued. “Y'know, I see how Joey looks at you, but I just wonder who else out there looks at you and not like that, either. Like you're fresh meat for the taking.” He then lifted his head to the hallway behind her, and she turned and followed his gaze.

“Even when there's duct tape on boots involved,” he said, that time in a louder voice.

Zelda walked up to the door right behind them with Chuck's boots latched onto her feet: the silver duct tape glistened under the low golden lights on the ceiling, still in place after Greg stuck it on with haste and after a few shows under her belt. She had slicked her black hair back with a handful of gel and wore nothing but a stained dark red sports bra and a pair of pearly white gym shorts. Her flat toned stomach already had a layer of sweat all over.

“If I was hot, I would dress like that, too,” said Sam, which brought a laugh out of both of them.

“Nah, I just put my head and body under a hose,” Zelda assured her; she pushed open the door and Sam realized that was the Cherry Suicides' dressing room. “You guys wanna come in?”

“Sure!” said Sam as she followed her inside.

“I gotta get to our room, but I'll poke my head in in a bit,” Frank promised her, and he kept on going to where Joey and Dan had run off to. Sam stood in the doorway for a second and she took in a whiff of the fresh incense in that little room. A vanity mirror stood on the left wall, as well as a small desk and a pair of accompanying chairs: Rosita's hats stood on a small rack on the wall opposite the door, and a long, shabby lumpy couch and a coffee table with a pitcher of water and a little wooden plate of smoldering incense right near the right wall. Zelda fixed her bra and she glanced down at the stains with a wrinkle to her nose.

“Does this thing make me look like I spilled ketchup all over myself?” she asked Sam.

“Sorta.”

“Damn it. It's supposed to be fake blood—I was gonna put some on my shorts once we get closer to show time, too. We're trying to hone in a more gory image for ourselves. You know, something to make people take us a bit more seriously. We have the songs, we just need the image. You thirsty? I'm dyin' of thirst—”

Zelda then reached for a stack of paper cups on the other side of the table and took two out, one for herself and one for Sam. She poured them both some of that icy water from the pitcher and then she raised it for a toast. They both drank it down in unison.

“Frankie was just telling me about groupies and all the nonsense you girls put up with,” Sam explained as she stepped inside more.

“Oh, yeah, we knew right away that was gonna happen with us,” Zelda pointed out as she poured herself a second cup. “We just demand more from the people who claim to support us.”

“I think it's a little harsh, though,” Sam confessed.

“Absolutely!” Zelda brought the cup to her mouth and guzzled it down. “Like I remember it kinda got to me at first, but I'm a Rhode Island chick who's not a rich snob. I look up to Wendy O. Williams, Lita Ford, and Bessie Smith, and also Peter Murphy, Henry Rollins, and Iggy Pop. I gotta be tougher than toenails, so it's part of the shit sandwich we eat. In fact—you heard this from me—that's a song Rose wrote just the other day. Called 'Shit Sandwich.'”

“Is it gonna be on your new album?” Sam chuckled. “We'll see.” Zelda poured herself a third helping of ice water and then she set the pitcher back down on the coffee table and took her seat on the couch. “We have to talk to Aurora some more, and then hopefully—it's the hope, anyways—we'll be knocking on Jonny Z's door soon.” She took a small sip from the cup and crossed her right leg over her left knee. “That's how Testament did it.”

“Do you guys have a manager at all?”

“Who, us? You're looking at her.” Zelda flashed her a wink, and then she stopped in her tracks, and a grin crossed her face. “Why? You wanna do our dirty deeds for us?”

“I'd have to do it plus school, though,” said Sam, to which Zelda shook her head.

“It's not hard—you just have to pick up the phone and shake hands with people. You gotta have a tough skin to do it, too—I mean, you saw us struggle.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” They fell into silence for a moment, and then Sam spoke again.

“How do you cope with it?”

“What, the struggle?” Zelda asked her once she took another sip.

“Yeah.”

“I usually like to poke fun at it. And the three of them do, too—like I said, Rosita wrote a song a few days ago about it called 'Shit Sandwich.' That's just our sense of humor: to be dark and bleak but not over the top with it. We make fun of the struggle because we're part of it.”

“You know, Aurora and I formed a bit of a duo called the 'art vixens'.”

“The art vixens?” Zelda smirked at that.

“Yeah, 'cause she thinks Joey has his eye on me and now she's married to Emile. We're like the vixens now.”

“It's funny, before the wedding, like back when you guys were shopping for dresses, I actually got to talking to Belinda and she told me she liked our name. And I was like, 'thank you, that's real cool of you.' 'Cause our name is very love it or hate it, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“I told her it's akin to a woman stabbing herself in the chest, or a virgin sacrificing herself. And then she made a joke about cherries after that, and I started callin' her Miss Cherry 'cause of it.”

“So the cherries and the vixens,” Sam said.

“Together, we can be the 'art whores'!” Zelda declared.

“The art whores?” Sam burst out laughing.

“Yeah!” Zelda laughed along with her. “Yeah—you, me, Aurora, and Bel. You and Aurora are the vixens. Bel and I will be the cherries. The four of us collectively are the art whores.”

She drank down the rest from the cup, and then Sam helped herself to some more.

“I gotta get you to hang out with Testament more,” Zelda told her in a low voice.

“I partied with them over New Year's,” Sam recalled.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, when they were preparing to record upstate. I got to join them all the way 'til midnight.”

“You gotta do it more, though. Even though Louie and I are broken up, they are literally the coolest dudes. Chuck and Eric are especially nice to Minerva and Morgan, mainly 'cause they're Hispanic boys and they're a couple of black girls, but they're our neighbors, though. I mean, Chuck lent me his boots for god's sake. And another case in point is Louie is still a really good friend to me. He'll call me once in a while and ask me how things are doing. He called me over Christmas and on my birthday. We just—can't really be a couple is all.” Her face fell a little bit upon saying that but she shrugged it off.

“Even Alex?” Sam asked her as she knitted her eyebrows together and took another sip of water.

“Alex is kinda standoffish—and skittish even—I mean, you saw the way he acted towards me when you ladies were shoppin' for dresses—but it's only because he's still breaking in his shoes. I mean, he graduated high school not even a year ago. Graduated and now he's on a lengthy tour with us and the five dicks from Manhattan—well, four of them are, anyways, unless Joey has another place that we don't know about. But he's a good kid, though, Sam. I promise you.” She paused for a second. “I think he's talked about you a little bit. I think—I haven't heard full conversations, but I have heard him mention you a bit before.”

“Who, Alex?”

“Yeah, he calls you 'Cliff's girl.' You know, 'cause you and Cliff were together. But like I said, I never really paid much attention to it so I only ever hear him mention you by the fact you're Cliff's girl.” And then the smirk returned to her face. “So Joey's been keeping his eye on you?”

“Yeah, but it's—platonic, though.”

Zelda squinted her eyes and she rested her elbow on top of the couch next to her.

“You sure? Because I swore that with Mr. Clemente when we first met, and then next I know, we're moving to a little place outside Narragansett together.”

“Wait a minute, how'd you guys work it out, though?”

“He quit Testament for a little bit, 'bout a year. Back when they were still referred to as Legacy and like right before you came into the picture. That was how we were able to work it out for as long as we did, but then he decided to come back because, you know—I was the one paying the rent.”

“So that explains why when they were about to record in that studio upstate, they had another drummer listed,” Sam recalled.

“Right! Right—Mike, I think was his name?” Zelda snapped her fingers twice. “Mike—Mike—something or other. I can't remember what it was now.”

“Ronchette?”

“Ronchette, yeah! Good pull with that.”

The distorted sounds of a guitar floated in from the hallway behind Sam.

“Speaking of Testament, I think that's them,” Zelda said with a nod of her head. “I hear them jammin' all the time. So I kinda know Eric's tone when I hear it.”

Indeed, Sam leaned back a bit but she couldn't see anything. She stood in the doorway and she spotted Eric, Alex, and Greg right down the hall upon stools.

“Little bit of Mercyful Fate,” Greg was saying as he plucked at his thick bass strings.

Alex leaned his back to the wall with the guitar cradled upon his lap. He kept his head bowed a bit so his bangs hid most of his eyes from view; his arms looked a little more toned and  sinewy than before. His playing at such a quick and hard pace and in such a brief amount of time endowed him with much more strength. Sam tucked her hand into her pocket and she felt Cliff's pick inside of there. Maybe she was too hard on him, especially since that was how he saw her.

He lifted his head and fixed his hair, and then he gazed on at her with a grave look on his face. The corners of his mouth were turned a little bit so it looked as though he was smiling, but simultaneously wasn't, like that of the Mona Lisa. Those deep eyes seemed deeper than before; and the black hair dye was starting to fade off from his head: the plume of white over his forehead was trying to make its return, such that it looked rather ghostly over his head.

She thought about that evening in the Bay Area, where he and Greg dueled on the front porch. If only she could see that side to him again. But she had nothing to say to him. If only she could show Alex the Joey she had seen that morning. If only she could show him the other side to him, but she couldn't.

But then he bowed his head again and returned to the three man jam between him, Eric, and Greg, and she returned to Zelda, who had climbed to her feet and made her way across the room to the small fridge in the corner behind Rosita's hat rack. She took out a little fruit cup and then she gestured to one of the hats on the rack.

“D'you hear about this band called Guns 'N Roses?” she asked Sam.

“Yeah?” She vaguely recalled Eric talking about them in the few months before.

“They're awesome,” Zelda said with a twinkle in her eye. “I saw them last month here in Boston—they opened up for the Stones. Completely blew them off the stage. Their lead guitarist had on this big black top hat and afterwards, he chucked it out to the audience and I caught it.” She pointed at the black top hat on the part of the rack closest to her. “Gonna see if Rose wears it tonight.”

“Rose with a rose from Guns 'N Roses,” Sam joked, and Zelda laughed out loud at that.

The two of them hung out in the dressing room for a little while longer until Aurora bustled into the room in a white camisole and a laminated badge around her neck and a clipboard under her arm.

“I was just thinkin' about you,” Sam told her.

“I was, too,” Zelda joined in with a smirk on her face.

“I have some good news, some not so good news, and some bad news,” Aurora said, out of breath.

“Bad news first so it's out of the way,” Sam quipped, and Zelda nudged her for that.

“Okay, the bad news is the label is getting bought out, and Sam—” She fetched up a sigh. “I think you and I are gonna lose our jobs.”

“Oh, no!” Sam gasped.

“Oh, shit!” Zelda gasped with her, and they looked on at each other.

“I hope Marla finds a place to live in Hell's Kitchen because I don't wanna be stuck in the Bronx forever,” Sam confessed.

“No, you don't,” Zelda assured her. “I like the Bronx, but it's not really a place you wanna get stuck in.”

“What's the not so good news?” Sam asked Aurora.

“The not so good news is Emile is moving to Brooklyn.”

“So landlord's gonna be away from his building—sounds legitimate, though. I mean, it makes sense. You guys are newlyweds.” Sam shrugged.

“Now what's the good news?” Zelda chimed in.

“Good news is if all goes well tonight,” Aurora announced, “we just might see the Cherry Suicides en route to a legitimate record deal.”

“Things just have to go well, anyways,” Zelda said with a little wave of her hand. “So no tech problems, no drama, no nonsense, things like that.”

“Absolutely.”

Zelda glanced over at Sam, who raised an eyebrow at her.

“Think we can do it?” she wondered aloud.

“Hell yeah,” Sam told her with an extended hand, and Zelda gave her a low five. “You got those big boots with you. You can so do it.”

Within time, Minerva, Morgan, and Rosita showed up, and the latter set the black top hat upon her head to go with her black lace crop top and matching short skirt. She tucked the signature rose onto the base to make it distinctly her own. Meanwhile, Sam stayed in her spot on the couch next to Zelda and watched the three of them. Even though she wasn't properly asked to do so, just sitting there alone made her feel like a band manager.

She could hear the audience outside, and she wondered what the rest of the place looked like. She ambled across the floor and she stepped out to the hallway: next door was Charlie and Scott talking to each other about something in soft voices. The former nodded at her and his soft black curls fluttered a bit over the top of his head.

“Hey you,” he said to her.

“Li'l Sam I am,” Scott followed with a raise of those thick dark eyebrows. “What'chu doin'?”

“Oh, just hangin' out—I also wanna check out the rest of this place, too.”

“Not much here,” Charlie explained, “just a little bar and a stretch of floor enough for a thousand people.”

“A thousand?” She was stunned by that.

“That's nuthin',” Joey called from their dressing room.

“Yeah, that's nuthin',” Scott echoed him.

“I think that's something,” Sam pointed out, and that got a laugh out of him.

“It's general admission, too—so everyone's either gonna have a bunch of folding chairs or standing up,” Charlie said. He then gestured for Sam to follow him out of the hallway, and he led her to a stretch of curtain at the very end, past Testament's dressing room. She looked over her shoulder and she spotted Louie perched on a small barren shelf on the wall with his white gloves on and his drum sticks in hand. He gave her a little wave, and she returned the favor.

“Right over here,” Charlie gently coaxed her: he pushed the curtain back a little bit, and she gazed out to the small stretch of black stone floor before her, lit up with some yellow and red lights overhead. Indeed, there were a few folding chairs on the floor but everyone else congregated about the place. On the opposite wall stood a small bar with a small crowd around it to boot.

“Nothing to it,” she remarked.

“Nothing to it at all,” Charlie echoed, and he nodded to the left. “That's where we're gonna playing in a little bit.” She spotted the stage adjacent to them. It looked awfully small, but she trusted the three bands behind her. Once the sun hung low over Boston, one of the people at the bar came backstage to check in on the Cherry Suicides.

“We're opening act, so we were born ready,” Zelda told her as she flicked a little fake blood onto those white shorts.

Sam lingered back on the side of the stage a bit and she watched the four of them take to the center. Zelda mounted herself on the stool while Rosita slung her bass down low: she had written “las putas” over the bridge, and Sam eagerly nodded at that. The lights turned low and she realized how small that room truly was once it erupted in noise.

“Hello, Boston!” Minerva declared into the microphone. “We are the Cherry Suicides, straight outta Rhode Island, and we're here to make all of youses into soup! Hit it!”

They opened with that gory song that Sam recalled from that night in L'Amour. The one she and Cliff danced to. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She tried not to think of him, but she couldn't help it. She missed him right there.

There was a loud crack! and she jerked back a bit. She looked around a bit and she spotted a guy near the front had put a fire cracker right near Morgan and lit it off there. But another guy pushed him away and one of the stagehands dragged him out of there.

“Fucking hell, dude, did the room clear out!” Morgan shouted, and everyone laughed at that. Sam swayed a little bit and she shook her head as she tried to shake Cliff away. He was gone, there was nothing more she could do or say right then. But the feelings persisted, at least for the next two songs. The fourth one was “Day of the Dead”, where a true mosh pit finally opened up for them.

They were moshing for the girls. Sam nodded her head at them, but then a guy close to her threw a punch to someone next to him. There was another punch, followed by a third, and a fourth, and the next one after that had been inflicted onto a woman. Zelda stopped drumming right there and she stood to her feet as a brawl broke out before them: several men but a handful of women in there as well. Sam gaped at them and she took a step back.

Even from a distance and over the wall of noise, she made out Zelda saying, “this is bullshit.”

Then someone picked up a chair from the floor and chucked it towards the stage.

“Oh, no,” Sam muttered as another guy threw a chair at Rosita. She ducked and held onto the top hat but it tumbled onto the stage behind her.

“Oh, my god!” Sam yelled.

“Jesus!” Zelda shouted as she bowed out from her drum kit: she picked up her sticks and ducked into the darkness. There was nowhere to go right there, and so Sam lunged to help her. But then something pulled her back.

“What the—”

“Get away from there!” She recognized Alex's big voice right behind her. She turned to find him putting his other hand on her shoulder. He yanked on her other arm and then bowed his head a bit before another couple of chairs sailed right past her ear.

He saved her life, but she wanted to save Zelda from the exact same thing.

“Alex!” she shouted over the wall of noise. “ALEX!” He dragged her off stage and back into that corridor. She tried to force herself away from him but he was such a strong boy. He threw open the dressing room door and all but shoved her inside.

“Stay in here!” he commanded. “No—Samantha, stay in here! It's not safe!”

“What're you—”

But before she could say anything more, he shut the door and left. Fuming, she threw open the door and she poked her head out to the corridor. No one there and the whole wing of the theater was silent save for the out of control mosh pit out there.

She let out a low exasperated sigh. But she spotted Louie and Greg at the other end of the hallway, both of them with spooked looks on their faces.

“What the hell!” she cried out as they came within earshot.

“I know, right?” Greg said, out of breath. “Alex just ran outside to get help and Chuck and Eric both just ran across the street to call the cops—Eric told us to stay here.”

“Yeah, Alex got me off the stage—I was trying to help Zelda, but he got me off of there before I almost got hit in the head.”

“But, man, Zelda's gotta be pretty pissed right now,” Louie told her as he ran his fingers through his smooth dark hair. “I saw her runnin' and she looked furious.”

“I bet she is—Aurora said they were supposed to get a record deal after tonight.”

“Hope they can do it tomorrow night,” Greg confessed as he folded his arms over his chest. “Hope there is a tomorrow night. Those girls are tough but—damn, they don't need all that.”

“Zelda told me they make fun of the fact they get called whores, though,” Sam pointed out. “I say 'kudos' to be honest.”

“Right?” Louie chuckled; the noise on the far end of the hall and on other side of the curtain seemed to die down a bit, but it was all noise from a distance to them.

“You know, that's not a bad idea to run with,” Sam continued.

“What, making fun of what they call you?” Greg asked her with a little toss of his black hair.

“Yeah. Like she and I decided to call ourselves art whores because of it.”

“Buncha art whores,” Louie chuckled some more.

“You guys!” Eric called from the doorway down the hall. In the dim light, Sam saw him gesturing for them to come on closer. “Come on! Come on! The cops are coming!”

“Where are the girls?” Sam demanded.

“They're fine—they're right out here, but come on!”

#fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 11 #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #book three #a skeleton in the closet #anthrax fanfic #anthrax #joey belladonna #frank bello #dan spitz #scott ian #charlie benante #alex skolnick #eric peterson #greg christian #louie clemente #testament band #testament fanfic #testament #long reads #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #writing #oc tag #text

[franciegummstarstruck]

My new JG holiday fanfic, “Fun in Acapulco” 🌞🎅🌲🌶

It was mid-December in 1964- Judy Garland was taking her final bows at the prestigious London Palladium. 

 Judy and her eldest daughter, Liza were performing there in concert for a solid week. Miss Garland's English audience showered the mother and daughter team with love, admiration, and rousing applause. Let's face it, London adored Judy. And it was a mutual love affair. Miss Show Business beloved her British fans. And she developed many good, close friendships with a few devotees who were founders of Judy's biggest fan club based in England.

 Christmas was just around the corner and Judy and Liza flew back to New York to relax for a few days. After the twosome settled into their suite at the Regency Hotel on 61st Street in Manhattan, Judy telephoned her younger children Lorna and Joey. They were staying with their dad, Sid Luft in California since her London concert tour.  To Judy's shock, Sid's attorney answered the phone at her soon-to-be her ex-husband's Los Angeles residence. He callously told her that there was a court ruling stating that Sid had full custody rights of the children. And that he had taken Lorna and Joe to Palm Springs for the holidays. He added that the children wanted to be with their dad for Christmas. Judy briskly hung up the phone and informed Liza of the current situation.

 "That louse has kidnapped the children."

 "What's goin on Mama?"  Liza sympathetically asked. She couldn't help but see Judy's peeved expression on her face.

 "Sid. He got the damned Santa Monica court to rule in his favor about keeping Lorna and Joe away from me, that's what!" Judy exclaimed.

 "Oh, no. How could he do this to you Mama...and right before Christmas!" Liza uttered.

 "Because darling,  Sid Luft is a devious, heartless human being. This is his way of getting back at me for divorcing him." Judy quipped, lighting a cigarette.

 Liza shook her head. 

"But, he's not going to get away with it. I'm calling my attorney."

 Just then, as Judy reached for the phone..it started to ring. She abruptly answered the call, thinking it may be Sid on the other line.

 "Hello, who's is this?" 

"Hello Judy, it's Lana." a soft voice perkily replied.

 "Lana...Oh my goodness.. it's lovely to hear from you. Darling, how are you?" Judy warmly spoke up. 

"I'm doing well, thank you. My agent told me sweetie that you and Liza were in New York. And it just so happens that I'm in Manhattan too for a few days, so I thought I'd give you a ring to say hello and ask if you both would like to spend Christmas with me and Cheryl in Acapulco.. that is if you don't already have other plans?"

 Judy’s luscious brown eyes widened. 

“Acapulco? That sounds marvelous darling. I really didn’t have big plans for Christmas this year, Liza and I are so beat from our London concerts engagements.  And my younger children are spending the holidays with their father...’’

 “So, is that a yes? Oh, Judy you’ll love Mexico this time of year. You and I can relax on the beach and Cheryl and Liza can shop and boy-watch.” Lana giggled. 

“That does sound like the kind of vacation Liza would enjoy."  Judy replied with a chuckle.

 “Wonderful!” Lana said. 

“But, I’m not sure if I should go. My press agent may have some interviews lined up for me here in New York..’’ Judy expressed. 

“Oh, Judy all work and no play isn’t healthy..” Lana quickly remarked.

 Liza, over hearing the conversation in the room.. sprinted over to her mother and rambled in a whisper, “Say yes Mama! It’ll be fun! I've never been to Acapulco!" 

Judy flashed a motherly eye roll. 

"Letting Liza out in Mexico could be disastrous." Judy mused. 

However, she never could say ‘No’ to her children, so Judy accepted Lana’s invitation. 

“Alright, you’ve convinced me girlfriend. And my teenage daughter." 

"Great! I'll pick you both up on my way to the airport a week from today!" Lana cheerfully replied. 

"Ok, darling. Marvelous."

 "Till then love. Bye."

 "Bye-bye" Judy uttered before hanging up the phone.

 By now, Liza was dancing around the room with a broad smile on her pretty face.

 "Ok, darling we have lots to do before we take off for Mexico. I have to call my business manager, agents, and have my hair done." Judy declared.

 Liza nodded, then in a burst of enthusiasm exclaimed, "And I have to pack my French bikini!" 

The airline flight to Mexico was a glorious one for all three ladies. No turbulence and the stewardesses kept plying them with tasty desserts and asking for autographs. It helped Judy take her mind off the fact that Lorna and Joey wouldn’t be spending Christmas with her and Liza. And the minute the girls stepped off the jet, there was a sleek, black limousine waiting there for them on the tarmac. 

“Thank Goodness, I brought my sunnies with me. It’s so bright and warm here!’’ Judy vocalized, slipping on a dark pair of cat eye shades. 

Lana grinned. “Sunnies?’’ 

“You know, sunglasses.” Judy matter-of- factly replied.  

“Oh, I see. Now, I recall that’s what the British call em don’t they? Well, you can’t live without them down here darling. It’s year around sunshine south of the border.” Lana said with a giggle, putting on her large tortoise print shades.

 “I’m not used to it. I’ve been living in England for too long I guess. Mr. Sun doesn’t make an appearance there..”

 Lana and Liza chuckled, following Judy into the town car. 

  Lana was the perfect hostess. The moment Judy and Liza entered the gorgeous beach villa in Acapulco they were showered with attention and shown a good time. The striking blonde actress gifted them with colorful sombreros, embroidered Mexican dresses, and beautiful Mexican opal necklaces. The coral and white stucco home was decked out with hanging Christmas lights and boasted an enormous, sparkling swimming pool with cabanas. And it was only a short walk to the pristine ocean.

 Lana enjoyed showing the girls around town and took them to a quaint outside marketplace where they splurged on ice cream and taquitos And they browsed at a few street art vendors. Judy bought a colorful canvas for 1,000 pesos from a local artist because the children in the painting reminded her of Lorna and Joey.

 Lana’s 21-year-old daughter Cheryl drove Liza around Acapulco and the two enjoyed taco bar lunches in town while Judy and Lana lounged on the quiet white sandy beach soaking up the plentiful sunshine. 

The villa’s living room was filled with an array of bright festive flowers and  there was a beautiful garland draped on top of the colorful Spanish tile fireplace. She ordered a gigantic white Christmas tree which almost touched the ceiling! Cheryl and Liza decorated the tree while listening to Elvis records on the stereo. 

On Christmas Eve, Lana threw a small dinner party for a few close friends who were visiting the region. Noel Coward, Ava Gardner, and Ricardo Montalban were among the tight guest list, as was 28-year-old actor Robert Redford. Judy had met him and Elizabeth Ashley backstage after their performance in the Broadway hit play, Barefoot in the Park the year before in New York.  The strawberry-blond actor wasn't very talkative nor overtly receptive to Judy but his eyes were  fixed on her all evening. He didn’t seem to  take notice of the other beautiful ladies, including the villa’s charming hostess. Which was especially odd, because Lana Turner made a spectacular entrance. Glamorously dressed in a tight-fitting, very chic Edith Head original frock along with several diamond bracelets adorning her wrists. 

 Lady charmer Noel complimented her fine taste in clothes and the spicy rum cocktails that were on hand. Ricardo asked Judy to dance while a little mariachi band played outside on the patio. And Liza sang a favorite Broadway show tune at the piano. Before long, everybody was singing Christmas carols and sipping eggnog. And Judy was asked to sing, 🎶Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas🎶 Then, Ms. Turner’s guests were served an elegant authentic Mexican dinner in the villa’s dining room by the best black-tie caterers in town. After dinner, everyone went back into the living room to talk and play records. 

At one point, Judy excused herself and took off for the guest room to repair a nylon tear. Entering the room, she was utterly surprised to see Robert Redford reclining on top of the bed in the room with a wine glass in his hand.  

“Hi. I’ve just been sitting here thinking of you.” he composedly voiced. 

"Oh My Goodness..you startled me dear!" Judy replied with an uneasy giggle. 

Robert slid off the bed like a stealth cougar and placed his glass on a nearby table.

 "I want to make love to you." the handsome young man directly uttered.

 “What?" Judy gasped.

Robert let out a haughty little laugh. 

"You act like I’m the first guy that’s ever said that to you at a Hollywood party.” 

‘‘Well, it’s been a-while.’‘ Judy quipped. 

 Robert burst out in laughter. 

“First of all, we’re not in Hollywood and secondly, I don’t make it a habit to make love to strange men at dinner parties.” Judy saucily retorted. 

Robert smirked and quickly maneuvered over to Judy, while unfastening his cuff links. 

"But, we're not strangers. Don't you remember, we met in New York last year.. backstage after my performance in "Barefoot in the Park?" 

"Yes, I  remember. But, I still don't know you well enough to accept your hasty invitation. Not to say that I'm not flattered..."Judy said in a teasing manner. 

"So, you're turning me down?" 

"I'm sorry darling, but I do find you resistible." Judy said playfully fastening his necktie. 

"Me? You've got to be kidding. Why I'm the hottest young star in show business." he exclaimed in a joking way. 

Judy just grinned, seeing through Robert's star complex facade. 

 "Well, I guess I better go now. It's getting late and did you know there's still a party going on out there?" Robert bantered. 

 Judy chuckled  watching the young man make his way out of her bedroom.  

"Merry Christmas darling." she added. 

"You know, you're a woman of high values." he stated looking back and then quietly walked out of the room.

 Judy didn't say a word to anyone about the little episode between Robert and herself. She spent the rest of the evening yakking with Lana and Ava about clothes and ex-husbands. Young Mr. Redford left the swaray early and sped off in his little red sports car. 

The next day, Christmas day ..Judy slept in till 1 p.m. Liza and Cheryl spent the day relaxing on the beach with Lana and later Judy joined them. That evening, the ladies feasted on a tamale pie that Judy baked out of leftovers in the fridge and watched an old Christmas movie on television. 

 The following day, Lana drove Judy and Liza back to the airport. The gals exchanged hugs and said their 'goodbyes' before Ms. Garland and Liza scooted off into the terminal to catch their flight. While they were hurrying over to the correct gate, Judy's suitcase buckle snapped open and everything inside spilled out on the floor. A good-looking kindhearted passerby went over to assist Judy in need. 

“Here let me help you senora.” he politely said in a thick South American accent. 

“Thank you so much. It’s the first time this has ever happened to me.” Judy anxiously replied. 

The brown eyed man knelt down and helped Judy put her belongings back into her luggage. And then, the gentleman took off a luggage strap he had on his suitcase and wrapped it around her baggage. 

‘’I’m sure that will hold everything together now.” he uttered. 

 Judy graciously thanked him and took some money out of her purse to repay him for his kindness. 

“Please, there’s no need to repay me. It was my pleasure to help a pretty lady in distress.’’ 

“You’re very sweet. Thank you again.’’ 

The handsome stranger flashed a big, buoyant smile.

Judy and Liza brightly smiled back at him and then continued on their way to their flight’s boarding gate. 

“What a lovely man..” Judy said looking back.

‘’Yes, and don’t you think he looks a little like Gene Kelly?’’ Liza bubbly interjected.

Judy chuckled. 

“Yes, darling.. he does!" 

Liza nodded, clutching her satchel. "Well, they say everyone has a double."

                                                The End

©KristenRaeJohnson

#judy garland #jgfans #liza minnelli #lana turner #ava gardner #robert redford #gene kelly #jugenea #fanfiction #have yourself a merry little christmas

[lankonleafs]

At Long Last: Covid Camp Finally Opens

It’s felt like a full calendar year since we last saw the boys in blue hit the ice in the city of Toronto and boy am I excited for January 13th to roll around. It was the team’s first official on ice day and we had our first look at the new Leafs additions and to say that the fanbase seems excited would be an understatement. 

Sheldon Keefe mentioned his starting forward line up yesterday and it set Leafs Twitter abuzz: 

Thornton - Matthews - Marner Vesey - Tavares - Nylander Mikheyev - Kerfoot - Hyman Simmonds - Spezza - Barabanov 

That is not a typo. Jumbo Joe Thornton is not only a Toronto Maple Leaf - he is slated to be on the number one line with two of the best young players in the NHL. There’s a couple schools of thought with this line. The first being that Thornton can be used as a guy to get the puck off the wall for the young studs. The guy can still dish the puck, if he can get the puck to not only Matthews but to Marner as well this line can put up some big numbers. The one thing that concerns me with him on the line is keeping up with Matthews and Marner’s speed, if he can catch up with them in the offensive zone i don’t think his speed becomes a massive issue holding those two up as they can dictate the play on their own. The second school of thought that has been passed around has been that his veteran presence can help Matthews and Marner stay on track and not lose too much focus if/when the going gets tough. Joe can keep the kids a little loose and take a little bit of the heat off of them. Do I think that this line will stay together for the entire regular season? No, i think he will end up on the taxi squad for the odd game and work his way up and down the line up depending on how the rest of the offence is looking.  

The second line is also intriguing to me. Tavares and Nylander does not surprise me being together at all. The two have seemed to have good chemistry in the past and being able to start together may help them grow their chemistry further. The surprising part of the line is Jimmy Vesey. On a one year “prove it” type of deal, he has a lot to prove. If he can be the player that almost all 30 teams in the NHL were fighting for coming out of college this line could be deadly. 

The line of Mikheyev - Kerfoot - Hyman will be a huge pain in the ass to play against. Mikheyev and Hyman play a similar role where they are both tough on pucks along the wall and annoying the living H-E-double hockey sticks out of opposing teams d-men. Kerfoot is the speedy centre that we’ve all grown used to and may benefit from both guys getting the puck to him. 

And finally, the fourth line. Wayne “I’ll punch your head off” Simmonds was always thought to start on the fourth line with Spezza but seeing his name on the Toronto Maple Leafs roster still makes me smile. Spezza proved last year that he may not be the young gun he once was but can still play at a decently high level and seemed to show up to every game in the playoff bubble. There isn’t a ton of info on Barabanov quite yet but everything i seem to read seems that he will be a stud in the big show if he can be the same player he is overseas.  

Outside looking in to start: Robertson, Boyd, Engvall, Anderson 

These four players were listed as outside looking in but i don’t think that their necessarily out. Robertson was held back from playing in the World Junior Championship in order to participate in Leafs camp which is a huge sign on what the Leafs are thinking when it comes to his future in the NHL. Boyd was always thought to be a guy that may be in this role and be a “fill in” type of player. If a player needs a night off or someone isn’t playing well we will see him in the line up. Pierre Engvall is someone that a lot of fans expected to be in the line up. He has shown some swings in his game and it seems that Sheldon Keefe is a fan of his game. I think he may find his way into a second or third line role. Anderson is thought of to be a Mikheyev/Hyman type player so again, it’s no surprise that he is on the outside looking in as there is only so much room in the line up for that role. I believe he will find his way into a handful of games to give some guys a rest on some longer stretches or when the Leafs need a little more grit in puck battles. 

Today, we had a look at what Keefe projects as the Leafs starting defence pairings: 

Rielly−Brodie Muzzin−Holl Lehtonen−Bogosian Sandin−Dermott 

I LOVE that first pairing. FINALLY, the Leafs have a competent d-man to play with Rielly. If Brodie can play at the level he did in Calgary this pairing should have no issues. Muzzin and Holl seemed to have great chemistry and the two big boys will be intimidating to play against. Lehtonen coming back from the KHL was an early indicator that he had a great chance of making the team to start the season off. He’s a young d-man that put up a point per game in the KHL earlier this year. With him being paired with Bogosian (for now) he should have a little protection to play his game. Bogosian was signed as a free agent after clearing waivers last year by the Tampa Bay Lightning and played some big minutes in their cup win. His added veteran presence will help the young guns in the Leafs room. Sandin-Dermott caught some off guard when this was released earlier today as most fans expected that Sandin would finally make the jump in the top six to start the year. It seemed to be that he could never get his game consistent enough to earn the trust of Keefe and the Leafs coaching staff may be looking to see what he has this year. Travis Dermott signed a very friendly team deal in the off season and most fans are excited to see what he brings to the table for the 2021 season. If he can stay healthy look for him to also jump into the top six.  

As for goalies was there ever a doubt we would see these two listed? 

Andersen Campbell  

Andersen has been a key part for the Leafs in making the playoffs in his time with the club. With  a shortened season Freddie will have to start the season hot and stay hot but with no preseason it could be tough for starting goalies around the league. Campbell was picked up last year and he proved that he can be a true back up and/or take some heat off the rest of the team if Andersen has a bad night or needs a night or two off. By all accounts, he seems to be a huge locker room guy and keeps the players loose. 

So far on paper this is a Leafs team that shows promise. In a shortened season and an all Canadian division the season will be a grind but they have as good as a shot as anyone in their division to make a run. All you need is a seat at the table and anything can happen. We’ll see what the season brings.  

#toronto maple leafs #nhl #hockey

[luckylq42-blog]

Welcoming its newest Jersey boy to the spot light

Sift through to find a good one and see if it's available.)After your account is set up click on "settings" in the menu bar at top right corner of the screen. Make sure all the fields in the "account" section are filled out. Pay special attention to the "One Line Bio".

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[tohidulislam2129-blog]

Tampa Bay Lightning - Detroit Red Wings

The Lightning head to Detroit in the wake of winning out and about in Boston yesterday. The group should battle a genuine aftereffect impact in the event that they need abstain from dropping focuses against the most noticeably awful group in the NHL. In almost every manner, this is a great snare game.

The Lightning beat probably the best group in the NHL in the Bruins the previous evening. The game, which was a potential future season finisher arrangement see, gained out of power as far as genuineness with different line fights. Consuming that kind of physical and enthusiastic vitality will unavoidably prompt an adrenaline dump after the game.

To aggravate the looming headache, the Red Wings are horrendous. It is hard to discover inspiration against such a powerless rival on an ordinary day. In any case, on a day quickly following what occurred in Boston? It appears to be practically sure that the Lightning will battle to find a workable pace game speed today around evening time. What's more, for no reason in particular, the time changed the previous evening meaning the group's typical routine will probably be disturbed.

Indeed, a great group should at present figure out how to win against an awful group regardless of the conditions. Be that as it may, as far as trap game notice signs, this one is setting off all the alerts. So prepare your headache fixes. We're going to require them. About Tampa Bay Lightning The Tampa Bay Lightning are an expert ice hockey group situated in Tampa, Florida. They contend in the National Hockey League (NHL) as an individual from the Atlantic Division of the Eastern Conference. The club has won one Stanley Cup title in their history, in 2003–04. The group is frequently alluded to as the Bolts, and the moniker was utilized on the previous third shirts. The Lightning plays home games in Amalie Arena in Tampa.

The proprietor of the Lightning is Jeffrey Vinik, while Julien BriseBois fills in as senior supervisor. The group is presently instructed by Jon Cooper, who has driven the group since 2013.

In the late 1980s, the NHL declared it would extend. Two adversary bunches from the Tampa Bay Area chose to offer for an establishment: a St. Petersburg-based gathering fronted by future Hartford Whalers/Carolina Hurricanes proprietors Peter Karmanos and Jim Rutherford, and a Tampa-based gathering fronted by two Hall of Famers—Phil Esposito and his sibling Tony. One of the Esposito gathering's key patrons, the Pritzker family, pulled out a couple of months before the offer, to be supplanted by a consortium of Japanese organizations headed by Kokusai Green, a fairway and resort administrator. On paper, it resembled the Karmanos/Rutherford bunch had the more steady offer; be that as it may, it needed to pay just $29 million preceding beginning play, while the Espositos were one of only a handful scarcely any gatherings ready to pay the alliance's $50 million development expense up front.[4] The Esposito gathering would win the extension establishment on December 6, 1990,[5] and name the group the Lightning, after Tampa Bay's status as the "Lightning Capital of North America."

In the wake of being granted the establishment, Phil Esposito introduced himself as president and head supervisor, while Tony became boss scout. Terry Crisp, who played for the Philadelphia Flyers when they won two Stanley Cups in the mid-1970s and instructed the Calgary Flames to a Stanley Cup in 1989, was tapped as the principal lead trainer. Phil Esposito additionally procured previous colleagues from the Boston Bruins of the 1970s, including previous linemate Wayne Cashman as an associate mentor and previous Bruin coach John "Cold" Forristal as the group's mentor. The debut group photograph has him flanked by Cashman and player Ken Hodge, Jr., child of his other Bruins' linemate.

The Lightning knocked some people's socks off in the pre-season when Manon Rheaume turned into the principal lady to play in a NHL game, which additionally made her the main lady to play in any of the significant expert North American games associations. She played for the Lightning against the St. Louis Blues, and halted seven of nine shots.[6][7]

The Lightning played their first ordinary season game on October 7, 1992 in Tampa's little 11,000-seat Expo Hall at the Florida State Fairgrounds. They stunned the meeting Chicago Blackhawks 7–3 with four objectives by little-known Chris Kontos. The group shot to the highest point of the Campbell Conference's Norris Division inside a month, behind Kontos' underlying torrid scoring pace and a breakout season by forward Brian Bradley. Be that as it may, it clasped under the strain of the absolute longest excursions in the NHL—their closest division rival, the Blues, were more than 1,000 miles away—and completed in last spot with a record of 23–54–7 for 53 focuses. This was, at that point, outstanding amongst other ever showings by a NHL development group. Bradley's 42 objectives gave Tampa Bay fans positive thinking for the following season; it would be a group record until the 2006–07 season.

The accompanying season saw the Lightning movement toward the Eastern Conference's Atlantic Division, just as move into the Florida Suncoast Dome (a structure initially intended for baseball) in St. Petersburg, which was reconfigured for hockey and renamed the "ThunderDome."[8] The group obtained goaltender Daren Puppa, left wing objective scorer Petr Klima, and veteran forward Denis Savard. While Puppa's play brought about a noteworthy improvement in objectives permitted (from 332 to 251), Savard was long over the hill and Klima's scoring was counterbalanced by his guarded slips. The Lightning completed rearward in the Atlantic Division in 1993–94 with a record of 30–43–11 for 71 focuses. Another frustrating season followed in the lockout-abbreviated 1994–95 season with a record of 17–28–3 for 37 focuses. About  Detroit Red Wings The Detroit Red Wings are an expert ice hockey group situated in Detroit. They contend in the National Hockey League (NHL) as an individual from the Atlantic Division of the Eastern Conference,[3] and are one of the Original Six groups of the league.[4] Founded in 1926, the group was known as the Detroit Cougars until 1930. For the 1930–31 and 1931–32 seasons the group was known as the Detroit Falcons, and in 1932 changed their name to the Red Wings.[5]

Starting at 2020, the Red Wings have won the most Stanley Cup titles of any NHL establishment situated in the United States (11)[6] and are third generally speaking in complete Stanley Cup titles, behind the Montreal Canadiens (24) and Toronto Maple Leafs (13). The Wings played their home games at Joe Louis Arena from 1979 until 2017, subsequent to playing for a long time in Olympia Stadium. They moved into the new Little Caesars Arena starting with the 2017–18 season. The Red Wings are one of the most famous and fruitful establishments in the NHL; fans and sports analysts allude to the Detroit territory as "Hockeytown", which has been an enrolled trademark possessed by the establishment since 1996.[7]

Between the 1931–32 and 1965–66 seasons, the Red Wings missed the end of the season games just multiple times. Between the 1966–67 and 1982–83 seasons, the Red Wings made the end of the season games just multiple times. In any case, from there on, from 1983–84 to 2015–16, they made the end of the season games multiple times in 32 seasons, including 25-directly from 1990–91 to 2015–16 (not including the dropped 2004–05 season), in 2006 this turned into the longest dynamic dash of postseason appearances in all of North American elite athletics and completed tied for the third longest streak in NHL history. Since 1983–84, the Red Wings have counted six normal season in front of the pack completes and have won the Stanley Cup multiple times (1997, 1998, 2002, and 2008).

Following the 1926 Stanley Cup end of the season games, during which the Western Hockey League (WHL) was broadly answered to be nearly folding,[8] the NHL held a gathering on April 17 to consider applications for development establishments, at which it was accounted for that five unique gatherings looked for a group for Detroit.[9] During an ensuing gathering on May 15, the association affirmed an establishment to the Townsend-Seyburn gathering of Detroit and named Charles A. Hughes as governor.[10] Frank and Lester Patrick, the proprietors of the WHL, made an arrangement to offer the class' players to the NHL and stop alliance tasks. The new Detroit establishment bought the players of the WHL's Victoria Cougars, who had won the Stanley Cup in 1925 and had made the Finals the past winter, to play for the group. The new Detroit establishment likewise embraced the Cougars' moniker out of appreciation for the collapsed franchise.[11]

Since no field in Detroit was prepared at that point, the Cougars played their first season at the Border Cities Arena in Windsor, Ontario.[12][13] For the 1927–28 season, the Cougars moved into the new Detroit Olympia, which would be their home arena until December 15, 1979.[14] This was likewise the principal season behind the seat for Jack Adams, who might be the substance of the establishment for the following 36 years as either mentor or general manager.[15]

The Cougars made the Stanley Cup end of the season games without precedent for 1929 with Carson Cooper driving the group in scoring.[12][16] The Cougars were outscored 7–2 in the two-game arrangement with the Toronto Maple Leafs.[17] In 1930, the Cougars were renamed the Falcons, yet their troubles proceeded, as they normally completed close to the base of the standings, despite the fact that they made the end of the season games again in 1932.[18][19][20][21]

In 1932, the NHL let grain vendor James E. Norris, who had made two past fruitless offers to purchase a NHL group, buy the Falcons. Norris' first demonstration was to pick another name for the group—the Red Wings. Prior in the century, Norris had been an individual from the Montreal Amateur Athletic Association (MAAA), a multi-sport club whose winged-wheel seal got from its cycling roots, and whose hockey group won the main Stanley Cup in 1893. Norris concluded that a red form of the MAAA "Winged Wheelers" logo was ideal for a group playing in the "Engine City" and on October 5, 1932, the club was renamed the Red Wings.[22] Norris likewise put mentor Jack Adams on a one-year probation for the 1932–33 NHL season.[23] Adams figured out how to pass his trial period by driving the renamed establishment to its first-since forever season finisher arrangement triumph, over the Montreal Maroons.[24] The group at that point lost in the semi-finals to the New York Rangers.[25] visit my website.

[love-takes-work]

Steven Universe Podcast Volume 3: Episode 8: Lars with Matthew Moy and Lamar Abrams

This is Volume 3, Episode 8 of the official Steven Universe podcast, looking at all aspects of the character Lars, including input from Matthew Moy (the voice of Lars) and storyboard artist Lamar Abrams.

The official description:

It's an episode devoted to Lars with Matthew Moy, the voice of Lars, and Storyboard Artist Lamar Abrams (who also happens to be the voice of Buck Dewey). Hear about "Bingo Bongo," Lar's Pilipino heritage & love of Ube, and his complicated relationships with Sadie and Steven. You'll also discover the original ideas for Lars' brief death and quick resurrection, his adventures in space, and what both Lamar and Matthew wish for Lars' future (might it involve his own song?)!

This, as usual, is bit long so I’ll do my bullet points of interest, with longer descriptions after the jump.

Highlights:

Matthew Moy took voice acting lessons at Voicetrax and only ever wanted to do voice acting, not on-camera acting.

Matthew auditioned to play both Lars and Steven.

Figuring out a character's voice for Matthew usually involves finding a piece of himself that he has in common with them and using that to connect.

Neither Lamar nor Matthew initially knew the huge plans Rebecca and others had in store for Lars in the distant future.

Lamar thinks Lars always tries to match the energy other characters put out instead of bringing his own energy to the interaction.

Lamar loved being able to show Lars was half Filipino (on his dad's side) using the ube cake.

Matthew thinks Sadie is Lars's closest person (along with Steven) and that even though he sometimes treats her poorly, he is also sometimes his best self around her.

The "Wanted" arc was powerful for Matthew--seeing Lars break down and admit his fears when he was stuck in Topaz with Steven was huge.

The fan reaction to "Lars of the Stars" at Comic Con was powerful for them. And they love that fans ship Lars with Emerald.

Lars is obviously still himself despite how much he's changed--the reaction he has to Sadie's phone photos proves that.

Matthew received a heads-up about Lars's upcoming death several episodes before he had to record it.

Matthew thinks Lars should have his own time-traveling show with the Off Colors.

On the idea of Lars getting a song, Lamar thinks he needs to deal with his feelings more before he'd get one, but Matthew would love to sing and wants Lars to get an intergalactic rock ballad to Sadie.

The detailed summary is below!

[Archive of Steven Universe Podcast Summaries]

McKenzie first welcomes Matthew Moy to the podcast, and he gives an enthusiastic introduction. She asks him about his voice acting background, so he says he studied at Voicetrax for two years wanting to just do voice over work--he wasn't interested in on-camera acting. He found an agent and moved to Hollywood after that. He recommends that if you're interested in something, you can always go to school for it to learn more and see if you can get into the business.

Regarding how he heard about and got the role on Steven Universe, Matthew describes his experience as the "normal" one--he got an e-mail about an audition from his agent, and he recalls that the opportunity was for auditioning for Lars and for Steven. He got a callback for both and they gave him the role for Lars. He really knew nothing about the show besides the pitch, which told him Lars was an angsty teenager who picks on Steven. He thinks he may have been the only adult auditioning to play Steven, which ended up just being a pitched-up version of Lars's voice. He thinks it sounds like "Lars is very excited and on a lot of coffee." Matthew also remembers the pilot version of Lars had dark hair.

McKenzie asks Matthew to talk about what inspires him in voice acting and acting in general. He discusses connection--that when he sees something really good and connects to it, it reminds him that he does this so he can connect with others. He loves that on Steven Universe people can relate to his character. He tries to make his own emotions align with the character's while he's providing the voice.

Regarding figuring out how to voice a character for the first time just based on an image and a pitch, Matthew says the hardest job is when you completely don't "get" a character and have to audition to play them anyway, and of course it's easiest if you do feel like you get them. He tries to find a piece of himself that's in the character to connect with and relate to, and use that to figure out, to build a foundation. For Lars, he focused on Lars's insecurities and interests. He thinks actually everyone can relate to Lars even if they might not admit it. Matthew points out that people always go to the Big Donut for information, and that Lars is a fixture of the human cast who's very important. He's an "average Joe teenage kid." He relates to both sides of bullying--picking on people (though not too much!) and being picked on. He knows where it comes from when someone does that.

When Lamar Abrams joins the party, McKenzie asks him to talk about the complexity of Lars and his role in Beach City and the show proper. Lamar didn't know about the huge plans for his character at first, and so he was just a dude giving Steven a hard time, but his complexity increased as he tried to figure himself out. Matthew remembers reading the description and understood "who this guy is." Matthew says picking on another person often is rooted in actually admiring them or wanting to interact with them, so they mess with them. He knew right then that he wouldn't be a two-dimensional character, though he did NOT know what he would end up becoming later.

McKenzie asks about Lars's first struggles in the show, focused on wanting to be part of the Cool Kids, and Matthew thinks Lars is actually really similar to Steven except he's "the other side of the coin." Where Steven is accepting and goes with his gut, Lars overthinks instead of expressing feelings. Lamar feels that Lars gives back what someone gives to him. He'll find a safe way to engage, giving as much as he gets. He can be vulnerable with Steven, but he hasn't gotten there with the Cool Kids. He IS trying though. McKenzie points out how very different Lars can behave when comparing his attitude to interacting with Steven, with the Cool Kids, and with Sadie. Lamar notes that he tries to match everyone else's energy when really he should just bring his own.

They discuss "the first bingo bongo," and Lamar recalls it as Buck coming into the shop and inviting them to the potluck (which is in the episode "The Good Lars"), to which Matthew had to talk really fast to show Lars's nervous, overexcited acceptance. (Lamar also recalls that Buck asked for a caprese salad, though that was a different Lars/Buck interaction, back in "Shirt Club.") 

McKenzie thought it was so funny that even a really "low-stakes" situation like being invited to a potluck was HUGE to Lars. They discuss how he made that great ube cake and then trashed it because he was too scared to go to the party. Lamar was sad to see food in the trash.

Lamar also was glad the episode gave them the chance to show that Lars was a mixed Filipino character (on his dad's side). He thought Filipino audiences being able to hear his Filipino last name and see that ube cake was a great way to point out his heritage without explicitly pointing it out. Matthew loves ube and recommends people eat it. Lamar recently ate ube ice cream.

McKenzie wants to talk about Lars's interaction with Sadie. Matthew feels that Sadie is Lars's closest person (along with Steven), and that even though sometimes he isn't "himself" around her, other times he's his BEST self around her. 

Lamar thinks it's a very typical teenage thing to sometimes treat your best friends poorly, and they discuss how awful it was to see Lars just deliberately not showing up to the potluck, ditching his friends and not even telling them. (Even though he did get abducted, that was a very Lars thing to do, and it could have been exactly what he did even if he hadn't been abducted.) McKenzie loves Sadie's separate arc with her band, how they're separated and both changed so much. Lamar loves seeing Sadie with the Cool Kids, and it wasn't like Sadie set out to establish a relationship with them like Lars did; it's awesome to see that they forged this out of shared love of music.

McKenzie wants them to talk about "connection" moments with the characters, and Matthew loved the “Wanted” arc--Lars had a literal death and rebirth, and it doesn't get more extreme than that. He transforms emotionally and literally, and that emotion when he was stuck in Topaz with Steven was so raw; they both revealed how they were both afraid. Lamar describes that as Lars confronting his fears.

Next they talk about the episode "Lars of the Stars." McKenzie prompts them to talk about initial reactions to finding out Lars was going to go to space, and Matthew says he "flipped out" and thought it was so cool. He loved seeing the crowd reaction at Comic Con. Lamar describes being surprised that they would do something like that with him when he still had so much to deal with on Earth, but now he has to survive on another planet. He connected with the Off Colors and faced his fears and did what had to be done. Lamar loves to imagine how that must have gone, going from caves under Homeworld to becoming a space captain--stealing the ship, getting the cool clothes, etc. Matthew thinks Lars just must be a genius if he was able to adapt and understand the technology so well.

Lamar points out the corny science fiction dialogue between Lars and Emerald, and Matthew thinks it's hilarious that fans ship him with Emerald. Lamar definitely thinks they have a villain/rebel chemistry. Matthew says they were straight up doing an anime homage (down to the cutaways to give the characters' titles and descriptions). Lamar loved boarding the latter half of the episode, from looking at Sadie's photos on the phone. He loved drawing Lars zooming in on Sadie. Matthew wants people to know Lars is still himself even though he's changed so much. Lamar says characters don't completely flip even when they grow. McKenzie is eager to see Lars interact with the people from his old life. Now that he's a space captain and . . . pink, with a hair portal and a scar.

Matthew, when prompted to discuss his reaction to finding out about Lars's death, says he was given the heads up by Rebecca a few episodes before. Lamar says he feels the death scene moved on to the resurrection scene pretty quickly, and Matthew thinks it was just enough to give that horrified moment grappling with the fact that they DID this on this show. McKenzie brings up the Off Colors' reactions, how they have no idea he's been mortally injured because that isn't how they react when they're hurt. His body didn't poof and it changed colors, and they're like "what?" McKenzie thinks she remembers that the resurrection was pitched as heading up the last episode of the arc instead of ending on it in "Off Colors." McKenzie thinks they made the right choice resolving the resurrection.

On the subject of what the guests want to see with Lars in the future, Matthew wants Lars to meet up with everyone and see everyone's reaction to his transformation. Matthew also jokes about wanting to have Lars on his own show with the Off Colors as an intergalactic time-hopper "fixing crimes" and solving mistakes in history. McKenzie asks about the idea of Lars having his own song, and Lamar thinks characters usually transform somehow through their songs, while Lars needs to get to that point where he's ready to do that before he would get a song. Matthew thinks he needs to master his feelings. Lamar points out that it isn't a failure of his character if he never does get to that point--he's still developed a lot. Matthew would love to sing, but he thinks he doesn't have good rhythm. But if it were up to him, Lars would get an intergalactic rock song ("with EDM bass!") which would be a rock ballad to Sadie. McKenzie suggests Fluorite on the drums.

[Archive of Steven Universe Podcast Summaries]

#steven universe #steven universe podcast #lars #mckenzie atwood #matthew moy #lamar abrams #myblog

[jessicasimpsonsource]

Bio Of Jessica

Hundreds of hopefuls make their way to Nashville every year, looking to stake their own claim to fame in country music. Some arrive with nothing more than a guitar and lyric-filled notebook under their arm, everything they own packed in the bed of a rundown truck. Some, discovered in a honky-tonk or roadhouse in their home town, ride in on the promise of a publishing deal or recording contract, visions of gold records and tricked-out tour busses dancing in their heads.

Very few however arrive in Music City with as much baggage as Jessica Simpson. Not since 1970 when Hank Williams, Jr. signed the biggest recording contract in MGM history has so much doubt and criticism faced a young artist. Unlike Williams who was burdened by the ghost of his legendary father, the shadow Simpson is trying to escape is largely her own. Preconceptions based on her tremendously successful career as a pop singer, a brief marriage on display in a reality program, the subsequent post-marital tumult, headline generating relationships and awkward professional stumbles have woven a tapestry of misconceptions around her.

Early Life + Career

The news last year that Simpson planned to come to Nashville to make a country record was met with a resounding scoff by a chorus of naysayers, many of them members of the very industry she was hoping to join. And that was the polite response.

The quietest voice amid all the din has been that of Jessica Simpson herself. But with the release of Do You Know, her first album on Epic/Columbia Nashville, the doe-eyed Texas beauty makes it perfectly clear she not only has a voice, but a point of view colored by life experience beyond her years, and plenty to say. She hopes to not only quiet her critics, but give the country music industry and audience something else to talk about—her undeniable talent and gift as a country singer/songwriter.

“There is a perception of who I am out there that has little to do with me,” she says quietly but with conviction. “I appreciate the fact that there are skeptics out there, that people may be doubtful and may not trust this effort. But what I want people to know and understand is I don’t have one foot in pop and one foot in country. I have made the commitment to country music. I look forward to reviews, no matter what they are. I look at it as constructive criticism. If anything, it just pushes me to do better the next time.”

Simpson has been pushing herself her entire life, frequently through devastating disappointment and heartbreak. While it is clichéd to tag failure as the starting point for success, the public would be surprised to know how many times the girl who seems to have it all was left empty-handed. Through it all, her family and faith have provided a rock solid base from which she draws strength and inspiration.

Like many country singers, her first musical exposure and singing experience was in church. “My father was a minister and evangelist, so growing up, I was surrounded by gospel music. Living in Texas, we also had a lot of country music. In our home, there were records by Patsy Cline and Willie Nelson, and records by CeCe Winans and Amy Grant. When I was little, I would sing at the places where my dad spoke, we were a duo!”

As time went on, she found herself seeking the spotlight. “As I got older, I started to feel like I didn’t want to be in the choir, I wanted to sing louder than everyone else. If I was in a musical, I hogged the microphone!”

Her early focus was on dance and she was on the competition circuit, which also included vocal contests. When her dance instructor noticed that her pupil had an affinity for singing, she encouraged her to enter a competition, and in her first stab at it, she won. When word came of a chance to audition for the new Mickey Mouse Club, the 12-year-old jumped at it. “I did a dance to ‘Ice Ice Baby’ and an a cappella version of ‘Amazing Grace.’ There were 50,000 kids who auditioned and I got to go to Florida with the final eight.”

She was crushed when she received a letter from Disney saying she hadn’t made it, particularly when so many people she knew did: Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Justin Timberlake, Ryan Gosling and Keri Russell. “My mom told me not to worry, that I would see those kids again somewhere down the road. Even though I didn’t make the show, I think it was then that my parents realized maybe they weren’t being just proud parents, that maybe there was something there within me.”

Not long afterwards, Simpson was invited to contribute to an album recorded with a gospel choir in New Jersey, which led to recording her first solo album—also gospel, in Nashville. Like her Mickey Mouse Club rejection, it was another setback for the 15-year-old. “I was telling my friends and people at my school that I was making a record that would be on the radio. But the label folded right before the record was to be pressed. When you’re that young and someone promises you something, you believe them. I was so disappointed.”

Her grandmother ended up paying for the record to be pressed, and the Simpsons sold it as they toured the Christian music circuit. It was one of those recordings that eventually caught the ear of mega music biz mogul Tommy Mottola who signed her to a pop music deal with Columbia Records and released her label debut, Sweet Kisses, in 1999.

Fast forward through a lightning-fast rise to the top of the pop charts: double-platinum certification for Sweet Kisses, its breakthrough hit “I Wanna Love You Forever”; the 2002 follow-up CD Irresistible which crossed over to four different charts.

It was in making her third album that she was first introduced to the Nashville songwriting community. “I wanted to do some writing for the record and my A&R person at the time pointed me to Nashville, where some of her favorite writers were. I loved it, but the label thought what I was writing with them was too country, and they had signed me to sing pop. I would listen to those demos over the years and knew I would go back to Nashville one day.”

But meanwhile, the whirlwind of her increasingly successful professional life and increasingly public personal life took on a virtual life of its own, with the line between the two becoming nearly indistinguishable. Almost simultaneous with the release of In This Skin in 2003 was the launch of the massively successful reality show documenting every moment of her marriage to new husband Nick Lachey, Newlyweds: Nick and Jessica. Though the program—which ran for 41 episodes until March 30, 2005—ratcheted up both album sales and Simpson’s star quotient, it also contributed to the public’s perception of the blonde bombshell as ditzy and dimwitted, an assessment that family and friends knew to be inaccurate and hurtful.

Far more hurtful was the unhappiness within the marriage that led to its disintegration and very public dissolution. It was during that period that the label was pressing her to make and release another record. Barely two months after her divorce was finalized on June 30, 2006, A Public Affair was released. “It was incredibly hard to promote that record. I wasn’t in a place where I could be honest, and I wasn’t able to be strong enough for the world.”

Though it would be a year before Joe Simpson told People magazine that his daughter was thinking of “returning to her roots” and recording a country record, the journey back to Nashville had begun well before that.

“I took the long way around to get back to where I came from,” she says. “Back where I belong. I think to be able to sing country music honestly, you have to experience life. There is so much honesty in the music, and if you are not honest, the fans will know it. Fans are the absolute lifeblood of country music, and they won’t respond to you unless they believe you.”

The first step was believing in herself and trusting her co-writers. She went to Nashville in 2007 to begin. “The process started with sitting down with these amazing songwriters and forcing myself to be vulnerable. I was so paranoid at the time, so overwhelmed by the tabloids. I wasn’t even living my own life. The first time I sat down to write was with Brett James and Hillary Lindsey. I write things in my Blackberry, and I was telling them some of my thoughts and ideas and they were writing them down. They were respectful of what I was sharing. At that moment, it felt right. I knew that we were partners and I didn’t have to be afraid that they would pick up the phone, call the tabloids and say, ‘Guess what Jessica Simpson is going through?’ I shared so much with my writers. They know me so well now; they know my sadness and my joy, my hurt and my happiness, my disappointments and my hopes. They are some of my closest friends.

“In order to do this record, I had to be vulnerable and I had to trust. After writing sessions, Cacee [Cobb, who did A&R for album] and I would go back to the house we were renting and I would be so emotionally drained. Writing sessions were like therapy. It was hard to go through, but afterwards, you’ve let it go, and you feel so much lighter. The weight of denial is very hard to live with. Writing this record was so freeing to me.”

If the writing—which resulted in her name on eight of eleven cuts—was freeing, the time spent in studios with producers Brett James and John Shanks recording those songs was exhilarating.

“The first day in the studio we cut three songs: ‘Come On Over,’ ‘Might As Well Be Making Love’ and ‘Sipping On History.’ I had been living with the demos for so long, it just happened. With music, when it’s right, it happens so quickly and so easily. It felt so good! I felt like I was back to who I really am.”

Perhaps the last song cut for the record was the most meaningful to Simpson, representing a remarkable gift of grace and redemption from one of her most humiliating public moments. In December 2006, while participating in a tribute to one of her all-time idols Dolly Parton at the Kennedy Center Awards, Simpson botched the lyrics to the song, in front of an audience that included President Bush, and of course Parton herself. “I should never have been on that stage at that time. I had gone through a break-up the night before and I had not been on stage in a year and a half. My heart was there, and I so much wanted to honor Dolly. But my mind was not with it. That night was really the lowest of the low. I apologized to Dolly and she was so kind to me. She said, ‘I wrote the song and I forget the words! Don’t you worry about it.’ In the months after, she would send me little notes of encouragement; she reminded me that we are who we are born to be. She took me under her wing and brought me to another level of faith.

“When we were recording this record I knew I wanted one of her songs. She gave me a batch of 12 songs to listen to, then called and said she didn’t think any of them were right and was sending over some more. ‘Do You Know’ was the first song of that bunch and I knew it was right. I loved it. We cut it and sent it to her and she was so supportive and flattering. Then she offered to sing on it and ‘Dollyize it.’ I just couldn’t believe it. Our voices blended so well together. Listening to that song now just makes me smile. The experience at the Kennedy Center ended up being one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

After a lengthy absence, Simpson is back where she feels happy and comfortable, on stage in front of a live audience. Each performance, she previews each of the songs with a story, sharing with the audience the truth behind the song. “It’s like a live listening party every night. What is so great about this record and these songs is that I don’t have to embellish them. They don’t need a pyro display to get the point across and I don’t have to learn a bunch of choreography. I can just get up there and sing my music, and the songs speak for themselves.

“Coming to Nashville and to country music was both a test and a leap of faith for me. But in this place of honesty and trust and hope, I’ve discovered so many things I left behind along the way. I’ve come back to who I was growing up. I believe if you follow your heart and be quiet, you will find the answers, you will find yourself. I found myself in this record. ‘Do You Know’ is a song and a metaphor for my life right now. Do you know who I really am?”

With the release of Do You Know, the world will receive the most honest understanding yet of who Jessica Simpson really is.

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 26 - TOR - The Eichel Standard

6-4 Regulation Win

Let’s have a moment of honesty. I’ll start. I expected this to be a signed sealed and delivered loss (I think many of us did). I had a rip-roaring time watching that epic Buffalo Bills game on Thanksgiving to the point where I was near dreading a home and home series with the team I hate more than any other in the world (I think many of us did). The Buffalo Sabres, losers of 11 out of 13, up against a hated Leafs squad fresh off the firing and roasting of their former coach rattling off three straight wins, is the setup for a massively painful loss… or a very cathartic win... and a playoff spot at the moment *Heavily suggestive nudging*. We’ll come back to that. One more moment of honesty: I have begun to feel dirty roasting the Leafs fans who file into Key Bank Center in droves as of late. The reality that has been attested to me a dozen times is these are mostly folks who haven’t and may never see a Leafs game in Toronto. They’ve been priced out. Instead of feeling offended that so many thrifty season ticket holders in the lower bowl sell their tickets to Leafs fans… we should really pity these Leafs fans and give them good treatment. They are priced out by an organization that has sucked ass for half a century and not even granted them the dignity of watching it live. Just a thought. I digress. What is the greatest game against the Leafs in Sabres history? Greatest Game Against for this divisional rival actually has scanter options than you might think. There is no Leafs-Sabres game in the top fifteen of the Buffalo News’ top 50 games in franchise history. These teams are rarely good at the same time and the one time they were gave us the only playoff series between the two in the 1999 Eastern Conference Final, a series won by the Sabres I may add. The Greatest Game Against the Leafs in franchise history comes in that series: Game 5. The 4-2 win sealed the second trip to the Stanley Cup Final in franchise history. Like many big moments the team got in the late 1990s it was backstopped by Dominik Hasek being the best goaltender in the world but nonetheless the Sabres won a trip to the biggest series for the organization since the mid-70s so whose complaining? That series allows us to carry the historical playoff edge against the Leafs into a playoff series I now feel is as inevitable as Thanos. I guess we’ll see about that. Last night was a boost, no doubt about that.

Buffalo did what they’ve been good at lately: getting a neat little hot start and getting our hopes up before absolutely roasting our turkey. There are nights where Jack Eichel has a game. There are nights when Linus Ullmark has a game. Last Night they both had a game. William Nylander outmaneuvered Johan Larsson and Marco Scandella back on the other end and suddenly found himself on a breakaway. Linus Ullmark said: ain’t no problem. He scooped it up to thunderous applause. I wasn’t at this game so I’m not going to comment on the Leafs jerseys to Sabres jerseys ratio but from the sound of it both fanbases had the power of applause. Auston Matthews disappeared throughout this game; but the guy who was mature enough for the C did not. This game could be framed as the battle of the Captains. John Tavares broke the scoreless tie late in the first period with a quick shot from Ilya Mikheyev. I think Linus Ullmark was screened by both Leafs and Sabres players on that one. Sometimes it seems as though this club either doesn’t know how to defend the net or defends it so hard the goalie can’t do his job. Either way it was 1-0 after one period. Tavares struck again early in the second period. Eichel and Spezza had both gone to the box creating a 4-on-4 and some space for creative players on the Leafs. This 2-0 goal I feel comfortable blaming on Ullmark. Tavares leads a 2-on-3 and the puck ends up way behind the net. Ullmark splayed out on his belly way too early and JT got his own rebound and tapped it in. I suppose it also would have helped if the Sabres defenders were a little tougher on Tavares but hey, they held Auston Matthews off the score sheet so I’m not complaining, well at least not after the Buffalo Sabres arrived in this game shortly before six minutes into the second period.

Brandon Montour kept the puck in the offensive zone on a failed Leafs zone exit and passed it to Johan Larsson. Larsson goes in and doesn’t see his shot, so he drop passes it to one of the best trailers in the league in my humble opinion: Jeff Skinner. Yes, Skinner on a line centered by Johan Larsson is some interesting strategy from Ralph Krueger and you probably have seen the roasts of the strange deployment. Me, well I’m going to save those roasts for the losses. Skinner ripped off an Eichel-esque wrist shot that Michael Hutchinson never responded to. Just right in. Funny part of this story as we go onto the flowering of the Sabres offense here: man-of-the-people new Leafs coach Sheldon Keefe asked the players what they thought of the difficult backup position they got up there and they wanted Hutchinson called up. Hutch must feel like he got the raw end of that deal, eh? Spoiler Alert: he let six goals in. After the Skinner goal both teams botched a powerplay and as the Leafs’ one expired Jack Eichel came out of the box to pick up a juicy stray puck that had wandered into the neutral zone. Him, Marcus Johannson and Conor Sheary go off to the races on a 3-on-1. Jack Eichel does a Jack Eichel Special and this game is tied. If you watch this team regularly you probably know what a Jack Eichel Special is: quick release wrist shot from the point, preferably on the rush. That’s yummier than Thanksgiving stuffing! The feast had just begun! Marco Scandella shot from the point and Casey Mittelstadt bats at it to create a redirect of the year candidate for the 3-2 lead. Now if you want to find some similarities between these two teams its not hard. One might be that both have enough skill guys to draw defenders out of their coverages. That’s what happened when another Leafs powerplay was ending and Jack Eichel had the puck. He has the puck behind the Leafs net along with 3(?) blue & white defenders… yeah, you know who that left open: Victor Olofsson. Goalofsson is no longer in an exclusive relationship with the powerplay, now he’s taking shots in all situations and he puts the Sabres up 4-2 to put a nice little bow on the first forty minutes of this game.

Almost seven minutes into the final frame Dmytro Timashov get a shot off through the woods and the Leafs are back within one. You can’t sit back in this league, the Sabres have learned that the hard way. But with the Leafs you can’t only not sit back, you need to bury them alive. You have to beat them so bad they’re thinking of their next opponent to beat these guys. The third period was a kind of touch-and-go experience as the Leafs closed in and the Sabres extended their lead. I was in a movie for this game and when I was looking at the scorers afterwards I saw Jimmy Vesey unassisted and thought to myself: three unassisted breakaway goals in the three games? What are the chances? I come to find out it wasn’t a breakaway, but it was one of those embarrassing goals you watch happen and think: “Yeah, that’s going to be showed in a Leafs video session.” They gave up the puck right in the slot and Jimmy Vesey takes it and hardly has to do the cotton eyed joe to get through the defenders right up to Hutchinson. When Vesey got there he put a goal that actually merits the name “Greasy Vesey”: five hole from point blank. Oh, this was the moment this game became cathartic. Not only is Jack Eichel roasting the Leafs, now its his BU drinking buddy tapping in five-hole stingers. Kasperi Kapanen closed the Leafs to within one again mere minutes later on another goal Ullmark probably wants back. And so it would be a one goal game for the last eight minutes until Jack Eichel got the puck in the defensive zone with a Leafs empty net and launched an ICBM all the way down ice into the open cage for the final score line of 6-4. That’s right, the Sabres didn’t just beat the Leafs, they did it in regulation like a bunch of Gs. If we could have a game like that every night a lot fewer fans would be calling Buffalo’s turkey roasted at this phase of the season.

The NHL gave three stars honors to Eichel, Vesey and Tavares but I’m going to change one of those. Jack Eichel was not only good on the score sheet; he literally had a perfect game in zone entries and breakouts. Those are the stats of a leader. If that behavior infects his teammates we won’t be talking about another lost season much longer. If we see players on this team at least showing Eichel’s drive to win each night then what could happen? The answer is beautiful things with the Eichel Standard. Star number two ought to be Linus Ullmark who has secretly been behind some of the Sabres recent almost success and tonight: actual success. Ullmark has a .913 save percentage, which is very much on the good side, having started five of the last seven games. Think about the last seven games, how many of them do you think the goalie came out looking that good? The tide might be turning on this tandem. The time is shortly before noon on Saturday I’m going to post this. A lot can change in the next 24 hours in this league, not to mention the outcome of a second game between these two teams tonight in Toronto; but as of right now the Buffalo Sabres sit in a playoff spot at third place in the division. Say what you will about this club wasting a fantastic October, or losing in spectacular fashion against lesser teams, or even the seeming inability of the GM to rotate out some defensive depth so his Coach can stop rotating good defenseman out of the lineup; this team is not out of it. Not yet. I did Thanksgiving Playoffs last postgame remembering that most of the teams in the playoffs on American Thanksgiving are in the dance come the end of the season. The playoff picture in the east right now is tight AF. No, frustrated we might be game to game this season has all the makings of not being over. Stop writing the epitaph while the body is warm. Being a Sabres fan sucks but you got to give it the space to not suck sometimes.

After the Leafs tonight we have the DEVILS who are just as bad as the last time we checked. After that the Sabres fly out on a Western Canada road trip I’m not too afraid of. I’m not telling you they’re going to create separation in the standings, we’ve watched this team enough to know opportunity is often squandered, but I doubt we’re as doom and gloom about this team when we see the Leafs again in three Tuesdays. Just an idea, I’ll probably be wrong, right? Tampa is also waiting to come alive like a loaded coil sitting outside the playoff picture so I should be more hesitant to get excited, eh? Like, share and comment on this blog to hop on board to remind me when I’m wrong. Happy Holidays, it seems as though we can be happy this holiday season just off Bills energy. Call me a fool but I’ve got some serious Sabres energy going on right now too. Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. The Tim Hortons Rivalry. Let’s make that a thing. Nobody outside Southern Ontario or Western New York knows wtf the QEW is so let’s not name the rivalry after a fucking highway. This is a sleeping giant of a rivalry that we are naming after a fucking road. Think about it. The more you think about “Tim Hortons Rivalry” the more it makes sense.

#buffalo sabres #Hockey #blog #NHL #Toronto Maple Leafs