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Marilyn Monroe


Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller at the “Baby Doll” premiere Dec 1956


Marilyn Monroe . Taken by Milton H Greene



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anonymous asked:

A different slant on Tobias?

“I’ll not ask yer again, lad!”

Tobias sighed and heaved himself up from the chair before the fire, scowling as the cat dived into his newly vacant and well warmed seat.  “I said I’d go after tea,” he muttered, as he walked into the kitchen. He sank down heavily at the table and pulled his boots on, yanking hard on the laces.

“An’ I’ve ‘eard that before an’ all!”  His mother stood in front of the stove, each burner on the hob covered with pans, their lids threatening to lift from the bubbles beneath.  “I asked yer last night, and I ‘ad to make yer excuses. Showin’ me up in front of the neighbours.  It’s not righ’.”

“I’d been at work all day - I was knackered!”

She swiftly clipped him around the back of his ear.  “And none of that shop talk in ‘ere, d’yer hear me?”

“What? Knackered?”  He gave a toothy grin as he ducked his mother’s hand.

“I’m warnin’ yer, Toby. Don’t be talkin’ like that to Mrs Jones.”

“I won’t, Ma.”

“An’ get a wriggle on, yer tea’ll be cold if you don’t shape yersel’.”

“Yes, Ma.”


“Well what?”  Tobias reached across the table for the butter and spread it thickly across his slab of bread, hesitating when he saw his mother’s scowl.

“That’s got to last all week, yer know.  Yer can use the margarine if you want to spread it thick like that.”

“I don’t like margarine on me bread.”  He gave a small laugh at her look of indignation.  “Don’t worry, Ma, I’ll get some more.”

“From where?”  She gave him a cold look.  “I’ve tol’ yer about yer gamblin’ in the pub.”

“It’s not gamblin’! Trade and trade alike, that’s all.” Tobias laid his knife heavily on the table.  “Look Ma, if Jimmy don’t have use for his butter ration, then where’s the ‘arm in swappin’ it for a pint or two?”

She pulled her cardigan tighter.  “A pint or two?  That’s the problem int it, Tobes?  Yer go down the George to make yer swap at ‘alf seven, an’ then yer come rollin’ in ‘ere at midnight, drunk as a lord-”

Tobias scoffed, shovelling food into his mouth.

“Yer’ll never find a good woman wi’ yer carryin’ on like that!”

He paused, and she could almost see the thoughts running through his mind – he’d always been easy to read, even when he was a small boy.  Slowly, he chewed the last of his food before wiping his plate clean with his bread.  “That’s why yer wanted me to look at Mrs Jones’ chimney?”

“…I don’t know what yer mean.”

“Ah, come off it, Ma!” Tobias stood, his rage pinking the tips of his ears, and he pulled his jacket from the back of the chair.  “Yer dint send me there to help, yer sent me there so Diane could have a good look at me, dint yer?  Like I’m summat out yer Littlewoods catalogue for ‘er to take ‘er pick!”

“Toby!  No-”

But with a ferocious slam of the back door, he was gone.

Keep reading

Okay, but consider:

Redhaired Victoire Weasley dating Marauder-esque mischief-making Teddy, who is changing his hair into different colors constantly

Punkette Victoire Weasley being sick of being instantaneously recognized because of her distinctive Weasley hair

Bill and Fleur understanding the impulse but telling her cautiously that they’re not sure if she realizes that she won’t be able to change it back as easily as Teddy can if she doesn’t like it, so “no colors that are unnatural to everyone but Teddy.”

Victoire dyeing her hair platinum blonde to rebel, saying innocently, “What? It could be natural to me." 

Victoire being secretly horrified at the results, because now she looks exactly like Maman, except for Papa’s nose. She doesn’t tell her parents, though, because she’s inherited Fleur’s stubbornness, and anyway, Maman’s always telling her that true beauty comes from within. 

Bonus: Aunt Hermione telling her all about a Muggle filmstar who did the same thing to her hair called Marilyn Munroe. Victoire quickly becomes obsessed.