#Philly street style

[21504]

Rainy days. Any days w/ you.

[privatepartyprincess]

Open mic night / open house at @recphilly 🎤🔥 I enjoyed myself so much. The vibe was so free and open ⚡️👽🎀

[theworldisyonces]

The Renaissance World Tour: Show 24 - Lincoln Financial Field Stadium - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (7/12/23). ⁣⁣⁣⁣

[instructionsonback]

SHOP: gettothecorner.com/welcome/embiidindeed

[bantuotaku]

Christopher James: "Skorch World Energy 🔥🌍⚡️

Shop Now www.SkorchWorld.com

Source

[syoungmaxx]

wanna be me ? I got the recipe 😭

Everything made by me !

[atinylittlepain]

Split Seam

steve harrington x f!oc

part of the girl boy series

18+ allusions to smut, stuffy family dynamics, overall just a fun time tho

a/n | marriage done the standy way, this was fun to write :')

...........................................

It’s raining in Philadelphia and chocolate hearts are on sale at the CVS down the block from his apartment. Valentine’s cards too, pink and purple and red and everything must go. He buys a bottle of seltzer and a chocolate rose. When he gets to the station he unwraps the red tinfoil and takes a large bite out of the bloom. He’s starving, didn’t get lunch at the office today with the usual end of the week scramble of numbers and numbers and suits and numbers. But he’s only got an hour and change on the train. He can hold out, Hershey’s aside. 

He’s done this train ride sixty-two times now. This is number sixty-three, but he’s not keeping track. All he knows is that it still feels like relief when he’s seated and the train starts moving. It’s always felt like a relief to be moving in the same direction as her again.

They’ve gotten this right, he thinks. As right as they possibly could, at least. The first year of what Andy called moderate-to-long distance was hard. Awkward phone calls with long swaths of silence, calls that were missed altogether, crossed wires, cataclysmic blowouts that were and weren’t about the things they argued about. But they’ve made it this far, nearly two years of this perpetual back and forth ache that’s only soothed with train rides, with closing that gap. 

There’s been three apartments in New York, and he’s pretty sure he likes this last one that she’s in the best. Greenwich Village, old brick and pock-marked sidewalks and tall windows that wash warm over lightwood floors, and he likes being the one making this trip because he likes getting to see her in a space that feels like her. And he likes this too, the same as the first sixty-two trips, she’s waiting for him at the station, that brief moment, miracle, within which he sees her but she doesn’t see him. Checking her watch and running a hand back through her hair, in her brown leather coat, sharp and smooth and too cool for a banker from Philly, but she’s here for him, smiling big, smiling everything when her eyes finally catch his. 

This always the same too, a soft, sweet rejoining, her hand curling at the nape of his neck, other arm slung over his shoulder and here, here, she presses her lips to his cheek, her nose sliding in line with his and hi, baby, another kiss, quick, and he’s home. 

“They have you staying late again, don’t they? Or did you get all dressed up just to see me?” Little tug to his tie as they thread through throngs of people, out into the cool damp night in as close of a tangle they can be without getting heckled for it on the street. 

“Catch-up from the holidays, or at least that’s what everyone keeps saying.”

“Right, right, crunching numbers and murdering secretaries American Psycho-style?”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” Little squeeze to her hip, little mean as they continue their walk back to her place. Her grin gets lit up by the neon creeping into the oncoming night. 

“Kidding, your colleagues however, well, yeah.” Well, yeah, Andy had come into town right before Christmas to go to his company holiday party with him, and had gotten into not one, not two, but three verbal altercations with his co-workers about the invisible labor of women, as well as the recession. Not that he would admit it, but he had been impressed, and maybe a little flustered, watching her hold her own amongst the suits. They had left early on account of said flustering, as well as the little snap he had given to one of the suits who told him something about needing a muzzle for that one. The partition in the company-ordered limo was raised when they got back into it, the green velvet of her dress hiked up and up and up exposing sheer black nylon and skin, and they both had forgotten all about the suits and the snap by the time they got back to his apartment. He still gets a little hazy, sweet gauze in his mind when he thinks about it. 

“How are the feminists this week?”

“Oh you know, angry, hairy, generally awesome and oppressed. I turned in my third draft on Wednesday.”

“That’s amazing, honey. It must feel good to be almost finished.” 

“It feels good to finally get my advisor off my ass. Bigger and better things, et cetera, et cetera.” He knows not to ask after bigger and better, having made the mistake once of asking if she had heard back from any of the PhD programs yet. She had smiled a watery thing, and promptly dissolved into a pool of sound and tears, too much, don’t ask. She’ll tell him when the news comes in, he knows, though there still remains a selfish slice of him that hopes and hopes and hopes UPenn comes back with a yes, and she answers with a yes too. But for now this is enough, here, and stopping her on the stairs up to her apartment to press a curved kiss to her mouth, so proud of you, honey. She beams, scoffs, thank you, and it drips with sheepish sweetness, her eyes rolling up to hide the truth of it, but he still catches it, lets her believe he doesn’t when she tugs him into her apartment. 

It’s true what they say about absence and fondness, at least in the case of Sylvia, who lately has been greeting him with a desperate peel of cries, twining around his legs with such a fervor that he has to try hard not to trip over her. No petting though, she still likes to scratch if it isn’t on her terms. 

“Nice flowers.”

“Thank you, someone sent them on Valentine's day.” A veritable flame of roses sits preening in a vase on her kitchen counter. He had asked for the biggest, the best, no expenses spared because he’s making money now, real money, and any gifts for her have to be a sneak attack because of it. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Mmhmm, you better watch out because it looks like you have some competition from another suitor.” She lays the accent on thick, her family’s accent, soo-tah, throws in a waggle of her fingers, ring glinting for good measure. The ring, and the whole ordeal of it. There had been no family heirlooms left to ask Frank and Kitty Broder permission for, just a nervous conversation the day after Thanksgiving, the one before last, sweating hard beneath his collar and hands shaking. Because while Andy is anything but traditional, Steve picked up pretty fast that this was not quite the case with her parents. A fiance of the second oldest had clued him in on as much the first time Steve was brought home to meet the family, summer break and a big reunion, plenty of hands to shake and names to forget. And the second oldest’s fiance had sidled up next to Steve with a sloshing glass of prosecco and the grin of someone who had figured this whole production out. Somewhere between the mafia and the Vatican, you do the math, man. 

Frank was unmoved, tolerant of the idea at best, considering him over the dark rims of his Buddy Holly-esque glasses, a stylish man, tall and thin man with a slick of gray hair and a thick gold ring that could blind you if it flashed the wrong way. He only had one question for Steve which, mercifully, he could answer correctly. Yes, he told Frank, raised Roman Catholic, though he left the non-practicing part out. Meanwhile, Kitty was already designing the invitations in her mind. 

And that wasn’t even the hard part. Because yes, hasty by some judgements (Eddie’s), and unlikely by other judgements, given Andy’s views (Robin). But he knew, he knew, spent a few months looking for a ring in the evenings when he’d get off work. When he did find one, he didn’t even wait a week, letting the black velvet box burn a hole in his pocket on the train ride to New York that very same weekend. And the proposal itself was simple, no fuss or fanfare, if not a little nerve-wracking. He spoke honestly, plainly. He spoke love. And he’s never known relief like he did when she smiled and told him there’s no one else I’d ever say yes to, baby. So maybe it’s hasty, and maybe it’s all skewed a little unorthodox. But it’s theirs. 

“They better act fast then, got that appointment tomorrow and all.”

“Did you bring all your documents?”

“Driver’s license, social security number. We’re set, honey.”’

“I’m still not changing my last name.”

“No, I know, I don’t care about that.”

“My mother is pissed about it, apparently so is yours.” 

“I think when all this is said and done, those two are gonna leave their husbands and move in with each other.” 

“God, that’d be good for them, or maybe terrible.” 

“Little of both, probably.”  One of the stranger outcomes of this whole wedding thing, the alliance that’s formed between Diane and Kitty. Though maybe not that strange, he thinks, certainly plenty of common in between them. At the very least, this wedding wouldn’t be happening next month without the pair of them leading the absolute battle charge of planning they’ve accomplished. Kitty’s words, knowing my Miranda, she’d be happy with a shotgun wedding in Reno, and Andy hadn’t disagreed, happy to leave all the cake and the flowers and the tulle up to their mothers. Steve was more than happy to stay out of the fray too.

“You didn’t eat lunch, did you?”

“How can you tell?”

“Steve, you never eat lunch. I ordered Thai before I left to get you,Tom Kha Gai and egg rolls, the usual. It should be here soon.” 

And the rest of the evening is very boring, very mundane, a third-floor window lit up warm, and framed inside of it, them on the couch with a smattering of takeout boxes. His tie undone and hanging loose around his neck, top three buttons of his shirt popped as well. Warmth and salt and sour sating him, he goes slack when she tries to teach him how to properly hold his chopsticks, moreso enjoying the feeling of her hands fidgeting with his fingers, her careful concentration. He goes right back to using a fork when she’s finished, grinning at the roll of her eyes. And afterwards, stomachs full and eyes heavy, worn weary from their respectively long weeks, they get into the shower, all kind touch, simple pleasure, her fingers kneading back along his scalp and his hands soaped and slipping over her skin, working into the spots that he knows ache, satisfaction in her sighs. 

Soon, he thinks, hopes, this won’t be a thing they have to ration, all this touch, all this sense, all this closeness. This will simply become the thing they do every night, getting into bed together and talking about things that don’t really matter while their bodies relearn one another. He wants these things in a near dizzying way, big, bold, brazen want that simmers and sighs in her presence, tired kisses, and it’s enough, her hand in his hair, and it’s enough. 

He wakes up the next morning bleary-eyed with want, eager for this early morning appointment at the county clerk’s office, because this is another step, big step, making it even more real step. They both seem to feel it, quiet over the rims of their coffee mugs, smiling, and what? What? What’re you smiling about? It’s a big day, isn’t it? Yeah, nervous? No, you? Not at all, no. And he means that when he says it. There are few things in his life that he has been so certain about. 

And yes, maybe they had a romantic idea of how this would go, but it really is just paperwork in a dimly lit cubicle, and signatures here and here and yes, wedding will take place within sixty days. Steve tries to make a joke about cousins, and is only met with a blank look from the clerk, and a swift side-eye from Andy. 

But when the paperwork is signed and there’s a manilla envelope with their wedding license in his hand, there is a lightness, a lift, a giddy kick, like kids getting away with something when they leave the office. Tucked in close to each other, a little oblivious, and maybe a little obnoxious, and a man walking the other way lets them know as much, bumping right into Steve’s shoulder and watch it! And without missing a beat, Andy’s head whipping around and hey, fuck you, we just got married! Which, well, technically not, but it still makes them both laugh a breathless thing, wild, wind-bitten smiles. And they’re still running on all that flare and fluster when they get back to her apartment, open-mouthed kisses and greedy hands and she has to hold him back by the lapel of his coat to grin an awful thing and you wanna see the dress? 

“You have it?”

“Yeah.”

“Like, here, right now?”

“Yes, Steve, it’s been fitted and everything. Locked and loaded and ready to blast me off into marital bliss with you, et cetera, et cetera. Now, do you, or don’t you, want to be the first, the very first, to see it on me in all its matrimonious glory?” 

“Isn’t that bad luck?”

“Baby, please.” She groans, pressing her forehead against his, and really, he’s just giving her a hard time, because he knows what this means to her, beneath all the snark. The first to see it before anyone else, before the rehearsal, and the aisle, and all the family that neither of them really care to have present. A moment for them, just for them, and no one else. 

“You really want me to see?”

“Mmhmm.” Quiet, crackling murmurs, whispered between smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’d like to see.” 

“Go sit on the couch, I’ll be right back.” And so he does, a little shake in his hands, a little burst and batter of his heart against his ribs. Nervous now, and he’s not sure why, the ticking of the clock pulling taut and loose all over like melted taffy. And then, and then, the padding of bare feet, and the hard rush of blood in his ears, and the sweet exhale when he does finally see her. 

“Honey.” Bordering on pained, the word is said with a sigh, and he’s not going to, no, no, just a little flush of heat behind his eyes and in his throat and Andy’s baby, don’t cry makes him sniff hard and swallow, his hand settling on her hip when she steps closer between his legs. Smooth white silk and simple, and her hair is still gathered in the clip she tucked it up into this morning and she’s still wearing a smear of Vaseline on her lips and she’s the best thing he’s ever seen, he thinks. Tells her as much and she smiles big, chin tucked down and her thumb stroking along the column of his neck where her hand is loosely curled. 

“Well, thoughts?” 

“Wow, just wow, yeah, no other thoughts.” He knows she’s going to start wilting under any more compliments, never one for them, a warbly Steve that makes him smile, squeezing at her hip, coaxing her to c’mere, c’mere, even as she resists his pull.

“If you fuck up this dress we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Not gonna fuck it up, just come a little closer. I wanna, uh, look at the stitching.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” Even as she says it, her smile is starting to slip and spread, another shuffled step closer as his hands splay across her low back, and lower, and lower, and a squeeze that’s just a little mean, making her laugh while he starts to hike all that silk up and up into his hands. 

A few weeks later, when he’s met with the sight of her in that dress in a very, very different context, all he can think about is that afternoon. No one will ever know that he got to see her first in that dress, before anyone else. Nor will they know that they spent the rest of that afternoon splayed on her living room floor with the fabric of her dress bunched up around her hips and his hands curled into the plush of her thighs and his mouth, open and taking, watching the dip and fold of fine fabric, the arch of her back, pleasure for pleasure’s sake. No one will know that in the after, his hips stilled and flush against hers, both of them panting and preening into each other’s kisses, they found the smallest tear at her hip, and that she couldn’t be mad about it, not even a little, when he sunk back down between her legs and laid his apology at the open hinge of her hips. 

He’ll find that tear again, when the vows are said, and the family and friends are clapping, and they’re walking down the aisle together, his hand on her hip. He’ll find the tear then, the perfect secret shared between them in a quick glancing smile.

[moonlightrosebud2000]

Annabelle beating Tamika at video games, on the Xtra that popular gaming console as shown from the holiday Xmas special.

Playing on Sunny Bridges’ flat screen TV in his master living room, while sitting on his couch.

Annabelle would learn some gaming tricks and strategies from Philly Phil and Lil’D since they both like to game on the Xtra a lot of times.

Unlike taking on her tough friend, Tamika, Annabelle’s totally smart, always up for a challenge, and can take on any level of game that she can conquer.

However Tamika isn’t a gaming fan or pro like Annabelle, so she always has on her orange “KICK BUTT” bracelet whenever she and the smart a teenager are competing in a video game on the Xtra.

[Also P.S, those drawings, they’re are actually the outfit sketches I made for Annabelle and Tamika to wear in today’s CO3K post.

Just to give y’all the idea on what the original concept of these fashions totally are.]

I gave Annabelle a smart style with some accessories to complete her cool look, like an apple ribbon headband to go with her top and a red ruby jeweled necklace which was actually a secret gift from Philly Phil.

and I gave Tamika a street style with a touch of Flava, along with her orange bracelet that she wore in the episode “Prank Yankers.”

Sorry I really couldn’t include the words “Kick Butt” in the bracelet, but her wrists were totally small and tight.

[st0rmyskies]

Incredibly Specific Scenarios™️ Coming out to find their car blocked in by other parked cars.

Toad's back at it again at Krispy Kreme. I've chosen to interpret this as "parallel parked and the person both behind and ahead of them are on their bumpers."

Time - It starts off as general annoyance. He stands there, looks around for a minute to see if anyone appears to be the owner of the offending vehicles. Of course, this is in vain. Then he's getting into his car, trying to eek it back and forth in the space without hitting anyone or the curb. As soon as he taps the first car, his temper is going to flare badly. He's going to sit there in a huff for a minute or two getting more and more annoyed until he just starts rolling forward and back, forward and back, tapping both cars repeatedly until he can get out of the space somewhat unscathed. The urge to get out of the car and physically lift one of the other vehicles is strong in him, though.

Twilight - Well, shit. Ain't that just his luck. Twi is so polite that he's likely going to rock back and forth in the parking spot trying diligently not to hit anyone, but with his big ol' rusted farm truck there's no way he's not going to put a scratch in either the luxury sedan parked in front of him or the minivan parked behind. This country boy is going to leave an apology note and his phone number as though he's the one to blame. He'll never hear from the other driver.

Wild - He doesn't even remember parking his car here the other night, let alone how long ago he parked it here in the first place. Did he park up on that other guy's ass that close? When Wild gets into the car he'll realize that he's out of gas anyway, so he's likely going to figure out public transit for the day and forget all about his car come the evening.

Champion - He's the type to grab the bumper of the car in front of him and try to lift it at least partially out of the way. In peak condition, he'd probably be able to. And he's going to leave that fucking car half on the curb as he goes on his merry way.

Warriors - Oh. Oh. Are you kidding me??? Wars is going to pace around, squawking on the sidewalk and pointing at the situation, waiting to see if any neighbors peek curiously out their windows at him and come out to own up to the situation. When no one does, he's going to take some photos of the situation demonstrating just how close both of these assholes parked to him, and then go back inside and pester Sky in to driving him wherever he wants to go anyway.

Sky - This boy doesn't parallel park his car, ever. Crimson is his mid-80s sleeper car that's in pristine condition and is kept in storage in an unnamed location in Castle Town. Not for any serious or nefarious reasons, mind you, but because he would simply rather die than let any of the guys know where he keeps his baby. He visits her at least twice weekly to wax and pamper her. If anyone blocks in his garage, he's calmly calling to have them towed.

Legend - Well well, if it isn't someone's lucky fuckin day. Legend has zero regard for the condition of his own shitty little beater car, let alone anyone else's. He's getting out of that pickle Philly-style. Did you know that there's a lot of "play" in the brakes of most cars? To the tune of maybe a foot, in some cases. Such that Legend will pull forward into the car in front of him until hit hits the one in front of them, then backward to the same effect, and so on and so on, maaaany more times than is strictly necessary for him to get out of his parking spot.

Hyrule - Please, if you will, imagine a dead-eyed Hyrule at 6:00 in the morning getting into his car, blocked in on the street, and just. Laying on the horn. Long and loud. Just sipping his coffee and waking up the entire fucking block until someone comes and pounds on his window to ask him What the fuck, sir!!? and he can roll it down and calmly ask, "Is this your car? Do you know who it belongs to? I need to get to work."

Four - Is already doing the mental trigonometry of how many rounds of forward-and-reverse it's going to take to get his vehicle out of there. He's going to eek that thing back and forth with precision until he can get out, so help him Hylia, even if it takes him all fucking afternoon.

Wind - He's cursing, he's spitting mad, he's keying that asshole's door and taking a photo of their license plate to doxx them later. Nevermind the fact that he was probably the one to park unnecessarily close to them in the first place. He gets so mad that he decides it's not even worth the errand he was going to run, so he heads back inside to do whatever it is this little gremlin does.

Dark - Bold of you to assume he can park.

Shadow - Hope you weren't fond of those tires, asshole. Shadow will only slash 3 out of 4 of them, though, because if any less than 4 tires are flat you can't make an insurance claim on it.

[roadtogracelandx45]

Courage Under Fire |Pre War 3| Band of Brothers

some how I missed posting this. opps.

master list

part 2

ao3

wattpad

@marycorleone

Pre War Three 

Dec. 1941

Bill looked up when he heard the slamming of the front door that led to the Stewart house, Olivia had just stormed out of the house and was going down the short flight of steps. 

"Hey Doll, what's wrong?" he asked, pulling himself away from the small group of friends that he was with playing dice. 

"My fucking mother is what happened." She cursed, patting the pockets of her skirt for her pack of smokes, cursing again when she didn't find them. 

Amused about how flustered she was, Bill pulled his own pack out and held it out to her.

"Thanks." She muttered as she took it from him. 'She comes in and is acting like she runs the whole goddamn place. Overrides Andie."

Katherine McHale was James Stewart's ex-wife and the mother of the twins, Marla and their 5 older brothers and a woman who hated that she birthed two girls and took her anger out on Olivia who was the favorite from the time she was born.

"What is she even doing here?" He asked shrugging off his coat to put it over her shoulders, if there was one thing about Olivia that he would always remember was that she always hated the cold weather. And Philly got to be freezing compared to Charleston. 

"Mine and Bobby's 18th birthday, she thinks that because 18 years ago she had to get cut open to have us, she deserves a party too."

Bill was all too familiar with Katherine McHale, she came once or twice a year to see the kids with whatever man she was with at the time. And she always raised a fuss wherever she went. Olivia's hair wasn't done in the right style, the clothes she was wearing were too raggedy. She was too much like a tomboy, she shouldn't be chasing after her brothers or Bill and his brothers. She wasn't the perfect version of the southern belle that Katherine had envisioned.

And Katherine hated it.

"She is sleeping with Marla and me too. We have to say the rosary every night and in the morning." 

Bill couldn't help himself. He started laughing, she sounded so defeated and angry that it was almost funny.

"It's not funny Bill! She is sleeping in my bed with me! Do you know how uncomfortable that is?" She questioned as she finally lit the smoke she had in her hand, "She read my diary! While we were at school. She knows everything."  

"Everything?" Bill paused in lighting his own smoke surprised, he knew that both Stewart girls and James kept journals and recorded everything in them.

"Mhmm," She hummed through an exhale of smoke, "She threatened to send me to the convent that Aunt Cissy is thinking about joining because I lost my virginity." 

 "You what?" He was surprised and hurt that she actually did that, especially after it being such a hot-button topic for them and the whole reason why he ended up cheating on her with Evie.

"Yeah, after the deb ball." She answered, her eyes focused down the street to the mail truck that was slowly making its way down the street. From what he had been told about the party from not only Olivia but Robert who went as one of the other girls' escorts there had been a lot of drinking before, during, and after the party, and well into the morning hours. 

"Don't look at me like that Billy, it just happened." She didn't feel like she had to explain herself to him, sure, they had done everything but the deed when they were together. And she felt guilty about it but she couldn't bring herself to do it. They had tried, twice, but nothing ever came of it but frustration on Bill's part. 

"You can't really be mad about it. You slept with Evie numerous times. You made your choice and I made my own. We are both our own people." 

"I know," he admitted as she slid closer to his body for his heat, he knew there was time she wanted to forgive him and take him back then he would make the same mistake with Evie and set them back to square one. 

A place that Olivia and Evie could never get past.

Mostly out of hurt on the former's part. 

It was a vicious merry-go-round that never stopped. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the shouts of laughter and curses from the boy down the street playing dice and the quieter laughter and conversations from the older men including their fathers.  Bill almost felt at peace with her leaning against his side, humming softly. It almost felt right for them to be like this. 

"Olivia Franklin!" Katherine exclaimed coming out of the house startling them out of their peaceful moment and for those playing the dice game down the street to stop and look. 

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like Katherine?" She sassed in return, "I am smoking. I am not fucking."

 Bill turned his head so it was buried in her hair to cover up his laughter. Sometimes she was so serious that everyone forgot that she was just a girl. 

"Olivia, who taught you how to talk like that?" Katherine put her hand on her heart trying to settle her rapidly beating heart. She held her free hand out to tick off names, "Uncle Finn, Grandpa, Great Grandpa, Great Great Grandpa, Great Grandma. My brothers."

  "Me." Bill laughed, "Henry."

"Papa G." She added with her own laugh, but with Bill's dad, it was Italian curse words, words that Bill never really picked up. 

 "Basically anyone really," Bobby added, he had come down the street with a stack of mail. He held out a smaller stack that included a small box to his twin who grinned. "You definitely made an admirer out of Nix. And his family. I am sure if he wasn't getting married on the 18th, there would be a formal engagement proposal in that stack of letters."

 His eyes went to Bill who was glowering with anger and jealousy. There had been several times in the past few months when Olivia went out with one of the other boys in their class where he had reacted the same way. Bill was very set in the mindset that Olivia was his and his alone. And her dating was messing stuff up for him. 

"I am going to go inside and read these." She said before handing the unfinished smoke to Bobby and going back into the house. 

"Nix as in Lewis Nixon? Helen's cousin?" Katherine asked, blocking her path back into the house.

"Yes. Lewis Nixon. Who is getting married in a few weeks. That I will never marry." Olivia was firm on that, she cared for Lewis and he cared for and loved spoiling her but they were both holding out for that great love.

And they knew they weren't it for each other.

 "Great guy, though, great in bed." She smirked before pushing past her mother and into the house. Her twin's laughter followed her as she shut the door and went up the stairs.

 "Katherine, just let her go." James Sr, the twins' father said having come down the street, worried that his ex-wife was going to slap his daughter again. 

"Did you hear what she said to me?" 

"I did but as of Sunday she is an adult and she can say and do what she wants."

James had always raised his daughters to be equal to his sons and she would have the same chances at least within their family if not the real world. He knew that she had dreamed of going to get her nursing degree but they couldn't afford it so she was going to settle for volunteering at the VA hospital in hopes they would hire her into their program. 

They were all too proud to take the money from Fredrick, who had been extremely adamant that a chunk of money be left to Olivia, Robert, and Marla. And that money can be used for school or weddings. 

"Do you know," Katherine spat, "that she is having premarital sex?"

James had put two and two together after the deb that he went down for, and honestly, he couldn't get mad at her for doing the same thing that her brothers had done.

"Yes, as long as she doesn't end up pregnant before she is married, it's fine." 

"I knew I should’ve raised them. She wouldn't be doing this."

"No, she would just be dead and buried in the Stewart family cemetery." Robert spat as Bill slipped past them into the house to go check on her. 

Thankfully Marla took the younger kids to the park and weren't home yet and were out of the line of fire for Katherine. 

"You don't know that Robert."

"Yes! I do! If it wouldn't have been for Lewis stepping in, you would have killed her last summer."

"That isn't true!" 

**

Bill knocked on Olivia's bedroom door once and slipped into the room just in time to see the window close. 

"You good?"

 "Fine." She returned, shrugging off his coat and holding it out to him. 

He took steps to take it back from her but instead pulled her to him, dropping the coat to the ground. 

"Bill? What're you doing?" He shook his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Finally, he kissed her like he had wanted to since she came back from Charleston.

  "We can't do this." She muttered putting her hands on his chest to push away from him.

 "Who is going to stop us babe?" She chewed on her bottom lip in thought before raising herself up on her toes and kissing him again letting him pull her in closer to him. 

Maybe she needed to stop being so straight-laced and doing things for herself. 

She had always followed the rules and was a good daughter, sister, and friend, and looked at where that got her. 

A whole lot of nowhere and hurt. 

And it was time to not be like that anymore.

***

December  7th, 1941 

South Philly 

"You are so going to hell." Marla teased her sister who came out of the confessional booth, her cheeks flushed, a smirk playing on the corner of her mouth. 

"So? Adam and Eve did the same thing. If God didn't want us to do stuff like this then he wouldn't have created man and woman or given us temptation."

The younger Stewart sister laughed and looped their elbows together, ever since this thing with Bill started, her sister became a new Olivia, one that she enjoyed. 

It was a mix of the old Olivia and the one from Charleston, so they were getting the best of both worlds.

"Did Bill say anything about what he wanted to do tonight with you and Bobby?" She asked, they were the last two to leave the church. 

Bobby had fled the first chance he got, followed quickly by their brother Lee and his pregnant wife.

 Their father had stayed home with the other grandkids who were too young to attend a full two-hour-long mass and he was using the twins' birthday party that night as another excuse to not attend church. 

Their stepmother Andie was teaching a Sunday school class so it would just be them. 

"No, he had to go right to the factory for work." She said, "He was going to try and get Bobby on too." 

"Daddy won't like that." the younger girl mused as they started down the street towards the house, "he doesn't even like you going down to the VA hospital." 

"I know he doesn't but that's the only way I can get into the nursing program. If I get picked.”

'You could just join the Red Cross."

"Shut your mouth Marla Elizabeth. You know what Great-Great Pawpaw would do if he knew his precious "Liddy" was in the Red Cross." Olivia personally thought there was nothing wrong with the Red Cross but her great-great-grandfather and in turn great grandfather had issues with it.  

"Just a suggestion." The younger girl shrugged before pausing by the corner store that had the news playing, "The Japanese have bombed Pearl Harbor." 

 "What did they just say?" One of the other girls that was passing asked stopping dead in her tracks like most of the other people on the street.

"Shh." Olivia hushed as she gripped her sister's hand desperately.  

"Liv, aren't Nicholas and James there?" Marla asked, squeezing her cold fingers.

 "Nicky is. So is Uncle Tommy." She answered, "Jimmy is on the Enterprise I think." Her heart was jumping from her throat to her stomach like it was its business. 

"We need to get home now," Marla commented she knew that her father or older brothers who were still home preparing for the twins' birthday party weren't going to leave to hunt them down like they would have if they hadn't just got this news. 

 "Liv!' she demanded, pulling her hand again. The older sister nodded her head numbly and let her pull her to the house.

**

To both Olivia and Marla's surprise, Bill was sitting on the couch next to Bobby who stood up once his sisters came into the living room, he crossed the room quickly and pulled them both into hugs. 

"Everything is going to be okay." He assured them, he had been repeating that since he had turned on the radio when he got home. "I am sure they are safe." Bill held his hand out to Olivia who pulled herself away from her brother and took it. He tugged her until she was sitting on his lap.

 She curled into him almost instinctively, her fingers catching the ones that were resting on her hip. 

That's where Evie found them almost an hour later, cuddled up on the couch, lips moving in silent prayer, they had all known even without the president announcing it that they were going to war and the boys. Almost all the boys in the neighborhood could be drafted and the ones who couldn't be drafted would try and join up. They both knew Bill well enough to know that he would do this. Same with Robert. 

Evie was sure the first thing tomorrow morning Bobby would go down to the recruiter's office and join up. 

And Evie worried for Liv, the twins had never been separated by far distances. They had thought it would be good to try and separate them when she was going to Charleston but there was a fit thrown, and it was agreed that he would go with Olivia and Marla. 

Honestly, Evie couldn't see the twins not being with each other, their dad tried to separate them when Liv was going to Charleston but Bobby rarely pitched a fit for himself. Pitched one. He refused to be away from his sisters and he would have run away to be there.

It was that freaky twin thing. 

"Evie." Olivia's voice shook her out of their thoughts and she turned to look at the girl, she was surprised to see her holding her hand out to her.   The girl took it and sat down on the couch next to the couple, as messed up as it was, maybe this was something that they needed to get their friendship back on track. 

[jpbjazz]

LÉGENDES DU JAZZ

MAX ROACH, LE BATTEUR ACTIVISTE Né le 10 janvier 1924 dans le township de Newland, dans le comté de Pasquotank, en Caroline du Nord, Maxwell Lemuel Roach était le fils d’Alphonse et Cressie Roach. Max avait quatre ans lorsque sa famille était déménagée dans le quartier de Bedford-Stuyvesant, près de Brooklyn. Sa mère étant chanteuse de gospel, Max avait baigné très vite dans un environnement musical. Après avoir joué du bugle (flugelhorn) dans les parades, Roach avait commencé à apprendre le piano à l’age de huit ans. Deux ans plus tard, il était batteur dans des groupes gospel. Roach venait tout juste de décroché son diplôme au Boys High School de Brooklyn lorsqu’il avait été invité à remplacer Sonny Greer avec l’orchestre de Duke Ellington qui se produisait alors au Paramount Theater de Manhattan. Il avait aussi joué au Georgie Jay’s Tap Room, où il avait accompagné son camarade d’école Cecil Payne. Roach avait fait ses débuts sur disque en décembre 1943 avec Coleman Hawkins.

Plusieurs batteurs de jazz avaient influencé le jeu de Roach, en particulier Philly Joe Jones. Roach expliquait: "Jo Jones was the first drummer I heard who played broken rhythms. I listened to him over and over again. But a lot of people inspired me. Chick Webb was a tremendous soloist. There was Sonny Greer, Cozy Cole, and Sid Catlett, who incorporated this hi-hat and ride cymbal style. Then I heard Kenny Clarke. He exemplified personality and did more with the instrument. It affected me."

Après avoir joué avec Benny Carter, Roach avait connu un des tournants de sa carrière au début des années 1940 en jouant avec Charlie Parker et Dizzy Gillespie dans des clubs comme le Monroe’s Uptown House (dont il était devenu le batteur maison en 1942) et la Minton’s Playhouse de New York.

Roach avait été un des premiers batteurs avec Kenny Clarke à adopter le style bebop. Roach avait joué dans les groupes de Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk, Coleman Hawkins, Bud Powell et Miles Davis. C’est avec Parker que Roach avait réalisé certains de ses plus enregistrements les plus novateurs, notamment pour les disques Savoy en novembre 1945, lors d’une session qui avait marqué un point tournant dans l’histoire du jazz. Le travail de Roach avec le trio de Bud Powell avait été particulièrement acclamé par la critique. Roach avait décrit ainsi sa collaboration avec Parker: "Everything was on the edge with Bird, you never knew what he was going to do musically, but it always worked out."

Roach, qui avait toujours apprécié la musique des Caraïbes, s’était rendu à Haïti à la fin des années 1940 afin d’étudier avec le batteur traditionnel Ti Roro. En 1949, il avait également participé à l’enregistrement de l’album ‘’Birth of the Cool’’ de Miles Davis.

UNE RENOMMÉE CROISSANTE

Roach avait étudié les percussions classiques et la composition à la Manhattan School of Music de 1950 à 1953, où il avait décroché un baccalauréat en musique. En 1990, la Manhattan School of Music lui avait décerné un doctorat honorifique. Roach avait d’abord envisagé de compléter une majeure en percussions, mais il s’était ravisé après qu’un professeur lui ait déclaré que sa technique laissait à désirer. Comme Roach l’avait expliqué avec humour: “The way he wanted me to play would have been fine if I’d been after a career in a symphony orchestra, but it wouldn’t have worked on 52nd Street.”

En 1952, Roach avait co-fondé les disques Debut avec le contrebassiste Charles Mingus. Il s’agissait d’une des première compagnie de disques de l’histoire à être entièrement gérée par des artistes. C’est Mingus lui-même qui avait enregistré le célèbre concert du 15 mai 1953 à la salle Massey Hall de Toronto. Le concert mettait en vedette Roach, Mingus, Charlie Parker, Bud Powell et Dizzy Gillespie. Les disques Debut avaient également publié un album intitulé ‘’Percussion Discussion’’, une improvisation libre entre une batterie et une contrebasse. À la fin de 1953, Roach avait décidé de s’établir dans la région de Los Angeles, après avoir obtenu un contrat pour remplacer Shelly Manne au sein des Lighthouse All Stars.

En 1954, Roach avait formé un quintet avec le trompettiste Clifford Brown, le saxophoniste ténor Harold Land, le pianiste Richie Powell (le frère de Bud Powell) et le contrebassiste George Morrow. Lorsque Land avait quitté le groupe l’année suivante, il avait été remplacé par Sonny Rollins. Le quintet était un bon exemple du style hard bop qui avait aussi été popularisé par Art Blakey et Horace Silver. Roach avait participé plus tard à l’enregistrement des albums ‘’Saxophone Colossus’’ et ‘’Freedom Suite’’ de Rollins.

Le quintet de Roach et Brown est considéré comme une des meilleures formations de jazz de l’histoire aux côtés des Hot Five et des Hot Seven de Louis Armstrong et des quintets de Charlie Parker et Miles Davis. Au cours des huit années suivantes, la réputation de Roach n’avait que croître. Durant cette période, Roach avait accompagné plusieurs artistes émergents comme Bud Powell, Sonny Stitt et Miles Davis. Malheureusement, Clifford Brown et Richie Powell étaient morts dans un accident de voiture en Pennsylvanie en juin 1956. La mort de Brown et de Powell avait plongé Roach dans la dépression et l’alcoolisme. Il avait fallu plusieurs années à Roach pour s’en remettre.

Le premier album que Roach avait enregistré après le décès de Brown et Powell était intitulé ‘’Max Roach + 4.’’ Après la mort de Brown et Powell, Roach avait continué de diriger des groupes de petite taille. Son nouveau groupe était composé de Kenny Dorham (il a été remplacé plus tard par Booker Little) à la trompette, de George Coleman au saxophone ténor et de Ray Bryant au piano. Grand innovateur, Roach avait élargi la forme standard du hard bop en utilisant des rythmes de 3|4 sur son album de 1957 intitulé ‘’Jazz in 3|4 Time.’’ À la même époque, Roach avait enregistré une série d’albums pour les disques EmArcy qui mettaient en vedette les frères Stanley et Tommy Turrentine.

En 1955, Roach avait accompagné la chanteuse Dinah Washington en concert et en studio. Le concert de Roach avec Washington au festival de jazz de Newport de 1958 avait été filmé. Quant à l’album live de 1954 ‘’Dinah Jams’’, il est considéré comme un des meilleurs disques de jazz de tous les temps.

UN ARTISTE ENGAGÉ

Particulièrement impliqué dans le mouvement des droits civiques et opposé au racisme sous toutes ses formes, Roach avait été invité à participer en 1960 aux célébrations entourant le 100e anniversaire de la proclamation d’émancipation d’Abraham Lincoln. La réponse de Roach ne s’était pas fait attendre: il avait enregistré ‘’We Insist !’’ (sous-titré ‘’Max Roach’s Freedom Now Suite’’), un album particulièrement revendicateur dans lequel il avait chanté en compagnie de son épouse de l’époque Abbey Lincoln sur des paroles écrites par Oscar Brown Jr. Pour Roach, la carrière de musicien de jazz était indissociable de la lutte contre le racisme. Il expliquait: “I will never again play anything that does not have social significance. We American jazz musicians of African descent have proved beyond all doubt that we’re master musicians of our instruments. Now what we have to do is employ our skill to tell the dramatic story of our people and what we’ve been through.”

En 1962, Roach avait enregistré ‘’Money Jungle’’, un album en trio avec Charles Mingus et Duke Ellington. L’album est aujourd’hui considéré comme un des meilleurs enregistrements en trio de l’histoire du jazz.

Au cours des années 1970, Roach avait formé M’Boom, un ensemble de percussions. Tous les membres de la formation participaient aux compositions et jouaient de plusieurs instruments. Parmi les membres du groupe, on relevait Fred King, Joe Chambers, Warren Smith, Freddie Waits, Roy Brooks, Omar Clay, Ray Mantilla, Francisco Mora et Eli Fountain.

Impliqué de longue date dans l’enseignement du jazz, Roach avait été recruté en 1971 par le chancelier de l’Université du Massachusetts à Amherst, Randolph Bromery. Premier musicien de jazz à enseigner au niveau universitaire, Roach avait contribué à établir une majeure en jazz dans cette université. Roach avait enseigné dans cette institution jusqu’au milieu des années 1990.

Au début des années 1980, Roach avait commencé à se produire en solo, ce qui avait contribué à démontrer que l’utilisation de plusieurs instruments de percussion par un seul artiste pouvait répondre aux besoins d’un concert en solo tout en comblant entièrement les goûts du public. Roach avait composé des pièces inoubliables pour ses concerts en solo. Un album live avait même été enregistré par l’étiquette japonaise Baystate. L’un des concerts en solo de Roach est disponible sur vidéo, et contient les prises de l’album ‘’Chattahoochee Red’’, qui mettait en vedette un quartet composé du saxophoniste ténor Odeon Pope, du trompettiste Cecil Bridgewater et du contrebassiste Calvin Hill.

Roach avait également enregistré quelques albums en duo. La plupart de ces enregistrements sont composés d’improvisations libres avec des musiciens d’avant-garde comme Cecil Taylor, Anthony Braxton, Archie Shepp et Abdullah Ibrahim. Sur un de ces duos, on entendait même Roach improviser sur le célèbre discours ‘’I have a Dream’’ de Martin Luther King. Roach avait aussi enregistré des duos plus traditionnels avec Dizzy Gillespie et Mal Waldron.

Dans les années 1980, Roach avait également composé de la musique pour le théatre, notamment sur des pièces de Sam Shepard. Roach avait d’ailleurs été directeur musical d’un festival organisé en hommage à Shepard. Intitulé ‘’ShepardSets’’, le festival avait été présenté au MaMa Experimental Theatre Club en 1984. Le festival comprenait les pièces ‘’Black Dog Beast Bait’’, ‘’Angel City’’ et ‘’Suicide in B Flat.’’ En 1985, George Ferenz avait publié ‘’Max Roach Live at La Ma Ma: A Multimedia Collaboration’’, un enregistrement en concert qui reproduisait la performance de Roach dans le cadre du festival.

Grand innovateur, Roach était tellement audacieux qu’il créait constamment de nouveaux contextes pour ses performances, ce qui avait souvent donné lieu à la formation de groupes exceptionnels. L’un de ces groupes était le Double Quartet. Ce dernier était formé des membres de son quartet régulier, à la seule exception que Tyrone Brown avait remplacé Hill à la contrebasse.

Un autre des groupes de Roach était le So What Brass Quintet, un groupe à l’instrumentation inusitée qui était composé de cinq cuivres (deux trompettes, un trombone, un cor français et un tuba) qui étaient accompagnés par Max Roach à la batterie, sans instruments à cordes ni bassiste. Le groupe comprenait Cecil Bridgewater, Frank Gordon, Eddie Henderson, Rod McGaha, Steve Turre, Delfeayo Marsalis, Robert Stewart, Tony Underwood, Marshall Sealy, Mark Taylor et Dennis Jeter.

Loin de se contenter d’élargir ses frontières musicales, Roach avait passé les années 1980 et 1990 à rechercher de nouvelles formes d’expression musicale et de performance. Il avait même joué un concerto avec le Boston Symphony Orchestra. Roach avait aussi joué et composé avec la chorale gospel de Walter White et les John Motley Singers, en plus de se produire avec des compagnies de danse comme le Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, la Dianne McIntyre Dance Company et la Bill T. Jones|Arnie Zane Dance Company. Roach a également collaboré à un concert de hip hop mettant en vedette Fab Five Freddy et les New York Break Dancers. Lorsqu’on demandait à Roach pourquoi il évoluait dans un univers aussi éclaté, il répondait que selon lui, il y avait toujours existé une relation étroite entre le travail de ces jeunes artistes de couleur et l’art qu’il avait pratiqué durant toute sa vie.

Roach avait également fondé le Max Roach Double Quartet, une combinaison de son propre quartet avec le Uptown String Quartet dirigé par sa fille Maxine.

Même si Roach s’était produit avec plusieurs sortes de groupes dans le cadre de différents styles musicaux, il avait toujours continué de jouer du jazz. Après avoir joué avec le Beijing Trio, avec le pianiste Jon Jang et le joueur d’erhu (une guitare à deux cordes orientale) Jeibing Chen, Roach avait enregistré un dernier disque avec le trompettiste Clark Terry. Amis de longue date, Roach et Terry Ils avaient souvent travaillé ensemble, tant en duo qu’en quartet. Roach avait livré sa dernière performance publique lors du 50e anniversaire du concert de Massey Hall. En 1994, il avait également collaboré à l’album ‘’Burning for Buddy’’ du batteur Neal Peart de l’ancien groupe de rock progressif Rush.

DÉCÈS ET POSTÉRITÉ

Au début des années 2000, Roach avait dû ralentir ses activités à la suite de problèmes de santé. Atteint de la maladie d’Alzheimer, Max Roach est mort le matin du 16 août 2007 à New York à l’âge de quatre-vingt-trois ans. Roach avait passé ses dernières années au Mill Basin Sunrise à Brooklyn. Il laissait dans le deuil cinq enfants: deux garçons (Daryl et Raoul) et trois filles (Maxine, Ayo et Dara). Roach avait quatre petits-enfants: Kyle Maxwell Roach, Kadar Elijah Roach, Maxe Samiko Hinds et Skye Sophia Sheffield. Son gendre Fab Five Freddy, un pionnier du hip hop, était réalisateur et artiste. Souvent comparé à Art Blakey dans le cadre des concours couronnant le meilleur batteur, Max Roach avait été un des musiciens les plus innovateurs de l’histoire du jazz.

Plus de 1900 personnes avaient assisté aux funérailles de Roach à l’église Riverside le 24 août 2007. Roach a été inhumé au cimetière Woodlawn dans le Bronx. Dans son hommage funéraire, le lieutenant-gouverneur de l’État de New York, David Paterson, avait comparé le courage de Roach à celui de héros comme Paul Robeson, Harriet Tubman et Malcolm X. Paterson avait déclaré: ‘’No one ever wrote a bad thing about Max Roach's music or his aura until 1960, when he and Charlie Mingus protested the practices of the Newport Jazz Festival."

Roach s’est marié trois fois. Roach avait épousé sa première femme Mildred en 1949. Roach avait eu deux enfants avec Mildred, un fils, Daryl Keith, et une fille, Maxine. En 1956, Roach avait rencontré la chanteuse Barbara Jai Johnson qui lui avait donné un autre fils, Raoul Jordu. Le couple ne semble jamais avoir été marié. De 1962 à 1970, Roach avait été marié à la chanteuse Anne Marie ‘’Abbey’’ Lincoln, qui l’avait accompagné sur plusieurs de ses albums. En 1971, la troisième épouse de Roach, Janus Adams Roach, avait donné naissance à deux jumelles, Ayodele Nieyela et Dara Rashida. Sur le plan religieux, Roach s’identifiait lui-même comme musulman depuis une entrevue qu’il avait accordée à Art Taylor au début des années 1970.

Le batteur Stan Levey avait un jour décrit l’importance de Roach en affirmant: "I came to realize that, because of him, drumming no longer was just time, it was music." En 1966, sur son album intitulé ‘’Drums Unlimited’’ (qui comprenait quelques pièces qui étaient entièrement composées de solos de batterie), Roach avait fait de la batterie un instrument à part entière en démontrant que celle-ci pouvait être utilisée comme un instrument solo capable d’exécuter des thèmes, des variations et des phrases rythmiques cohérentes. Roach décrivait d’ailleurs lui-même sa conception de la musique comme une ‘’création de son organisé.’’

Max Roach a remporté plusieurs prix et récompenses au cours de sa carrière. En 1988, Roach avait décroché une bourse de la MacArthur Foundation, devenant ainsi le premier musicien de jazz à recevoir cet honneur. Roach avait été élu Commandeur de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres de France l’année suivante. Roach a aussi été nommé Jazz Master par la National Endowment of the Arts en 1984. En plus d’avoir remporté à deux reprises le Grand Prix du Disque de France, Roach a été admis au temple de la Renommée de l’International Percussive Art Society ainsi qu’au Down Beat Hall of Fame. Roach a également été intronisé au sein du North Carolina Music Hall of Fame en 2009. Roach avait aussi été nommé ‘’Jazz Master’’ par l’Université Harvard.

Roach était également récipiendaire de huit doctorats honorifiques. En 1986, la paroisse de Lambeth à Londres en Angleterre avait nommé un parc en l’honneur de Roach. Le batteur avait d’ailleus inauguré le parc lui-même en mars de la même année à l’invitation du Greater London Council. Lors de ce voyage, Roach s’était produit en concert au Royal Albert Hall avec le batteur ghanéen Ghanaba et plusieurs autres.

c- 2023, tous droits réservés, Les Productions de l’Imaginaire historique

SOURCES :

KEEPNEWS, Peter. ‘’Max Roach, a Founder of Modern Jazz, Dies at 83.’’ New York Times, 16 août 2007. ’Max Roach.’’ Wikipedia, 2022. ‘’Max Roach.’’ Encyclopaedia Britannica, 2022. ‘’Max Roach.’’ National Endowment for the Arts, 2023. ‘’Max Roach Biography.’’ Net Industries, 2023. ‘’Roach, Max.’’ Encyclopedia.com, 18 mai 2018.

[privatepartyprincess]

[nitrateglow]

I actually managed to finish Chu Chu and the Philly Flash.

You have Alan Arkin and Carol Burnett as a homeless ex-athlete and a street performer trying to get money from the mob in exchange for a Macguffin that fell into their hands. It's supposed to be funny and then heartwarming, but it all lands with a thud. The ingredients are all there for a delicious concoction, but it's like everything got burned up in the process.

It took me multiple times to finish this. Like I know I'm a glutton for punishment, but some of the stuff in here made me cringe so hard-- doubly so since Arkin and Burnett normally fire on all cylinders for me. There's just... so much shouting and shrieking... like there's a scene where something catches on fire and Burnett just shrieks long and loud at ten second intervals while the shenanigans happen. Arkin shouts a lot of his dialogue. I had a damn headache by the end.

It's sad because Chu Chu has its moments. There's a scene where Arkin has to deliver the Macguffin to a hotel room where the mobsters are waiting, but right as he's coming up the hall, there's a violent altercation among the mobsters that signals to Arkin that he's going to be mixed up with some psychotic people if they see him. He has this deadpan reaction that's damn near Keatonesque. And then there's a touching moment between Burnett and Arkin when they share their sad backstories at her downtrodden apartment. In that moment, I felt this whole project might have been better as a lowkey '70s style hangout movie rather than a madcap comedy.

Ah well. That's life.

[babymorte]

9. Describe your perfect mate?

52. Is there anyone you’ve given up on? Why?

40. Have you ever written a song or poem for someone?

67. What is your idea of the perfect date?

74. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?

9. someone who is kind and patient, especially with me because i get overwhelmed super easily. has a good sense of/can match my humour. same interests/match my nerdness, willing to go on all the adventures and nature walks with chonks uhhh...this is actually kinda hard

52. sadly i've given up on quite a few people. i'm just kind of tired of giving chances and being let down and screwed over. i'm honestly a lot happier now for it

40. i feel like i had to in school for like mothers day or something as a kid but not like on my own cuz i have zero talent for writing but i think that sort of stuff is so cute

67. either spending the day in philly like going to south street or old city or china town and then a show at night and before we go home we gotta go to lorenzos for pizza

or

spend the day outside on nature walks or hikes, get dinner somewhere, preferably a ramen spot cuz hello, and then either watch horror movies n chill or play videogames all night...then horror movies n chill

74. im so lame cuz im really not all that superficial. like overall style...aesthetics if you will.

vaguely nsfw asks

[destinyc1020]

Americans don't have their traditional food,they still everything,just look on NY all best street food owners immigrants. British not much better so we picking from 2 types of shit

That's basically my point actually haha 😄

"American food" is a conglomeration of a lot of varieties of foods from all over the world due to the immigrants in our country, so that's why the food is so much better here imo 😅🤷🏾‍♀️

There's so much to choose from, and over the years of course we've put our own style to things as well.

Each state and region of the country has their own little cuisine that's awesome too though. Personally, I think the east coast makes the best crab cakes lol.... 😌

The Midwest has some of the best BBQ I've ever had.

The south has some of the best soul food too. 😁👍🏾

Philly prob makes the best Philly cheesesteaks, etc.

So yea, the US has its own personal spin on various types of food, but it varies by region, and it's a conglomeration of a lot of varieties of cuisines. 😊

[stromer]

how do you want the draft to go??

overwhelming response (two people in total) to my previous post :p so here are my dope takes that i wish the NHL would take seriously regarding the 2023 draft:

i do not take actual draft order into consideration for like any of these... because ch*cago ruined my life and draft order attempted to ruin idgaf war hero jeichel's life SO!!

bedard to the ducks

i think it's pretty obvious this was the spot i wanted bedsy to land. the whole OC boy experience was something i was rooting so hard for. he needed to discover the healing powers of a double double animal style clowning on zegras. like i've said before, his horror filled eyes would only get worse with one trip on the I5.. and i think it would've made him an even better hockey player somehow 🧪

he REALLY needed to be a canuck. common fact. but those freaks fucked around and found out horrifically. at least they played meaningful hockey when it was supposed to be MEANINGLESS. thank you very much to those orcas. you just lost connor bedard cuz anti-tank kuzmenko had bananas to eat. and quinn. that freak

2. leo carlsson to the sharks

in a perfect world, leo carlsson will never know the saw trap under construction that is Ohio. and the fact that he even knows where it is on the map is already too much for me to bear. if my lovely sharks had actually committed to a really good tank... i would’ve bought a jersey. i will use the power of my delusion to ensure this DOES happen actually. that's a guarantee cuz don't i deserve to be happy?? give me another swede MIKE!!! you keep taking ekky away from me, u capital L Loser so give me another one

in another universe i think leo to philly would be fucking bonkers level big brain 🧠 i only say this cuz i think he needs to hangout with joel farabee IMMEDIATELY. i found leo's tiktok and he's on there being so fucking silly goofy lipsyncing to GUNNA??? hooping to Lil baby??? even hit the griddy?? new era of orange and maybe leo should be there

3. adam fantilli to the HABS

this choice was mainly inspired by this comment adam left on cole's instagram and it got me THINKING. known jhughes fan boy adam fantilli has been going to work getting in with the NTDP boys and i think this is a solid choice somehow. can't really elaborate more on this, just a feeling i'm feeling.

again, in a world where jackets didn't commit to the bit of being so completely morbid awful nasty gross, adam going there so he wasn't too far away from his other half luca would've been good with me. the umichification of OHIO.. c'mon 〽️

and of course the reality of the great chances he's a future duck hasn't been lost on me. i think he's going to be a great addition to the canadian heist that will force zegras into more team canada jerseys.

plus he hit a matthews celly once. and i think that means he goes somewhere where it would be eaten up

4. will smith to buffalo

with a name like will smith he's got to go somewhere that i KNOW bitches will serenade him with the fresh prince of bel air theme song (like he assumedly has been all his life) and what better place to do this than the sabres. a team for silly goofy guys is where i think will smith and his NTDP taught silliness could thrive. also the athletic clowned on him for not being able to skate like jhughes despite being the n.1 center in the NTDP this year. whiteboy hockey looks can haunt you apparently .but my son you will go to a place where it doesn't matter because the vibes are too strong. cuz i said so

however, streets are saying he might be coming to the sharks. no surprise considering will is a future boston college student athlete and mike grier starts acting up anytime someone with BOSTON connections is in his sights. like a rabid dog with no self control. so, maybe bordy will be in contact with smith soon via insta DM?? and maybe i wouldn't be mad about it

anyway... all of these boys are haunted regardless of where they get drafted because they got invited to vegas to watch stanley cup final game 2.. and we all know that was a monstrosity so. Permanently scarred pre draft, here's how i would've saved them.

THE END!