#Real-Time Ride Tracking App

[melanated-writersblock]

⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.Lunch Rush.⊹˚₊♡⟡˙⋆

[CEO!Husband!Yunho x BlackFem!Exec!Reader]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. Where you and Yunho wanted to start trying for a baby, and with a long lunch break in your schedules, you decide to pay him a visit to try your hand at conception.

content: car sex, semi-public sex, thigh riding, cloth-ripping, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl pls), just a dollop of spit, cowgirl, doggy, full fledged backshots, like 2 creampies?

word count: 3.4k

a/n: This fic cost me 5 FUCKING DOLLARS TO MAKE?!?!?! I had to pay to use a fake text generator, so if any of you have a site or app that I can make fake text messages FOR FREE then PLEASE let me know😭. This was self indulgent but I wanna dedicate this fic to all my fellow Hotteoks🫶🏾 And the bitches that fantasize about getting nutted in and getting it poppin’ in the back of the parking lot (in theory of course)! WwaBRiM (if you can’t tell from the fact the reader is rocking soft locs😛)

‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎

To this day…you and Yunho’s BIGGEST regret in your relationship…is and ALWAYS WILL BE….agreeing to go to the christening of your friends’ 6-month old baby boy.

Everything was beautiful. The ceremony, the cathedral, the way the baby nestled into Yunho’s arms so naturally, and reached out to play with your bangles with such curiosity and wonder. It altered both of your brain chemistries, and you weren’t sure if it was for the better or not.

Your friends didn’t help either, saying things like “Parenthood would look so good on you two!” and “I can’t wait for your baby shower invitations.”.

How could they…….

After you pushed your meetings back to later in the week. After Yunho gave his team a free day when they could’ve been in the office perfecting the play-through on his new game before its release. Two very busy people with very busy work schedules, and you carved out time to come support your friends and their son, and they pay you back with…….

BABY FEVER?!?!

You and Yunho planned your futures out to a T. Go to university, get your respective degrees, join a company that you interned with, work your way up, become the boss, get married, honeymoon in The Maldives and spend your paid vacation days in The Swiss Alps.

Starting a family was definitely in there somewhere, but everything fell in line so well that it got lost. You’re at the top of your games…Yunho, figuratively and literally, with his gaming company being the best in the country and all…and you became the creative director for a top cosmetic brand. It really was all good. But it was lacking. And you both felt it. Ever since that christening.

You felt it every time one of your work partners went on maternity and paternity leave. Every time there were children in the offices on ‘Bring Your Kids to Work Day’. Every time Yunho saw posts or videos of kids around the world dressing up as characters he helped create. Every time your homegirls would send you milestones of their babies taking their first walk, or biting into a lemon for the first time. You two worked hard and accomplished everything you wanted to, everything except starting a family. It resonated for days after that christening.

For Weeks.

Months, even.

The energy around the house shifted. Yunho would steal glances at you as you did the simplest of routines, imagining your belly being round as you sip your favorite tea in the kitchen, waddling from room to room barefoot and pregnant. And you’d watch attentively as he’d play his video games, envisioning a child full of joy as he teaches them how to defeat their first villain. After a while it got to a point where neither of you would hide it. It became all too real, too wanted. And why not? What was stopping you two?

Everything was green lit once you and Yunho put it into the atmosphere and finally discussed it. You both were just about ready to start baby proofing the house and nothing even happened yet, becoming more proactive than you already were. Tracking apps were monitored, routines were tweaked, and everything seemed to be doable…but your work schedules…your jobs were the biggest obstacle. Just when could you slip away for a bit to see each other? When would be the right time to make a ba-

“Hey, I’m picking up my kid so we can go to lunch. I’ll be back in 2 hours!”

Your Editor in Chief pops their head in your office briefly before heading down the hall to the elevator, snapping you out of your rambling thoughts.

…………..Lunch Break.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You reverse your sedan into the space next to him before hoping out and swishing towards the driver’s door, knocking softy. Your ears perk up at the sound of r&b playing and a silent laugh escapes you. The dark windows of the door lower, revealing Yunho in the driver’s seat, fully reclined with the top buttons of his shirt undone and the silver crucifix you adorned him with for your anniversary gleaming.

“For a second I thought you were backing out on me.” He smiles at you, his voice deeper than usual, evidence of a brief stolen nap. “Traffic was hell, I would’ve been here in half the time otherwise.” The door unlocks and you climb in, grazing over Yunho’s body as he adjusts the driver’s seat sitting up slightly, he grabs ahold of you to help you straddle him and closes the door back behind you. And like clockwork, you lean in, beginning your onslaught of abuse on his lips.

Snaking your hands into Yunho’s hair, he moans, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing ever so eloquently with yours. “I missed you.” He says breathlessly between kisses, “You saw me this morning before I left boo!” You tease him, fixing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose that slid down in the midst of your passion, “That’s too long.” He pokes his lips out, and you console him with light pecks to ease his playful angst. “You’re so needy, you know that right?” “And you love me for it.”

Yunho starts to undo his shirt more, a sinister smile on the corner of his lips as he looks you over. “Come here,” You lean into him, your hand placed against his bare chest, the rock on your wedding band a flashy contrast to his skin. “Lift up for me baby.” You lift off of Yunho for a second as he helps you readjust yourself, now straddling one of his thighs. The pinstriped black skirt you wore for work today riding up your thighs. You let out a huff, immediately feeling the pressure of Yunho’s toned thigh on your bundle of nerves. Your black tights and panties not serving as any sort of buffer to the sensations. Your pussy lips spread apart feeling the course texture of his slacks. You let out a staggering sigh, reality finally setting in what you were about to do. “That’s right, you’re gonna ride me and cum all over my thigh, and thennn~” Yunho begins to rock your hips back and forth on his thigh. You lurch forward, your right hand immediately planting on the interior wall of the Rover, “Damn, feels good right?” “Yeah, yes it does. Fuck.”

You place your other hand on his shoulder, stealing support as you rock onto him quicker, a few front strands of your freshly done soft locs coming undone from the high pony you put them in this morning, to his delight. Yunho enjoyed the sight of you working yourself on him, he loved how neat you looked before you climbed in the suv with him, and is obsessed with the thought of how disheveled and fucked out you’re gonna look when he’s done and you climb back out. Fuck, it’s all he’s thought about since you mentioned it in the texts. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to touch you, to feel you, to fuck you, to ruin you, to caress you, to make love to you, to put a baby in you……finally.

You watch Yunho as he closes his eyes, deep in thought, mindlessly guiding your hips against him, as if he’s immediately feeling all of the pleasure that you are in that moment. You begin to rock against him quicker, an impending climax moments away. Yunho opens his eyes, watching you as your moans get louder, less polite, more shameless. You lean your head forward trying to compose yourself as much as you possibly can in this situation, and he smiles at the sight. “I’m close………..fuck, I’m close.” Your hand now caresses his face as you lean your head on his shoulder, hunching him like a bitch in heat. “You’re close?” “Yeahhhh~” “Fuck, you’re gonna cum all over my thigh like that?” “Yeah!” “Yeahhh, just like that?” “Yes! Yes! Just like that!” Yunho bounces his leg softly as you continue to rake against it, riding out your high as a warm dampness spreads on his designer slacks. He moans at the feeling, damn near coming untouched just from witnessing your pleasure unfold before him.

You steady your panting for air. Embarrassed, you pat at the wet spot you left on your husband, “I did not expect that I-“ “I did, you’re ovulating.” Yunho caresses your cheeks fully heated with shame, and kisses you, laughing into the kiss. “I don’t think you understand how hot that was, don’t apologize my love.” He gestures to the passenger seat, helping you off of him and guiding you there to sit tight and catch yourself for a second. He then leans the drivers seat back fully again, stepping over it to sit in the spacious middle seat. He unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way before removing his glasses, tossing them somewhere far in the back seats. He holds one of his hands out to you, patting his thigh sharply with his other, ordering your immediate presence.

You crawl over the front armrest and take Yunho’s hand as he helps you towards him. You start to kneel down in front of him and he stops you, “Nooo no, no, none of that today.” “But I really want to.” “I knowww, and you do it so well, but we’re kind of on a fixed schedule.” Yunho gestures behind you to the time on the soft glowing screen on the dashboard. You sigh in agreement, “I wanted to get you ready too.” “Oh babe,” He begins to undue his belt buckle and pants, his fully hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen as he slides his pants down lower freeing him. “Does it look like I need to get ready?” Your mouth waters, his cock glistening as precum trails down the tip, and you moan at the sight. “Oh my God.” He laughs at your eager demeanor, “Come here baby,” he pats his thighs again signaling you to straddle him once more, your legs on either side of him cushioned by the materials used to adorn the luxury car seats.

Yunho hikes your skirt up higher, sliding his hands underneath to trail down your sheer-tights-clad inner thighs and up to your panties. Your breaths were short, shallow, hesitant. You closed your eyes as Yunho felt you up, getting you worked up again in the process, unbeknownst to himself, or was this all part of his plan? “These weren’t too pricey, right?” He pinches at your tights, “No they weren’t, why?”

****rrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrrrriiiiippp!****

You gasp as you feel the force from Yunho ripping your tights right down the middle, smacking his shoulder. “They weren’t pricey but they were my favorite!” “Shhh, I’ll buy you 10 more.” You lean your head on his shoulder, pouting…until you feel his slender hands move your panties to the side. Your breath begins to get shallow again, feeling his warm tip slide up and down your wet folds. You moan involuntarily, “Awww, come on baby I haven’t even put it in yet.” “I knowww, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” “I do,” You feel him slowly push into you, leaning your head back as you cry out. “This cunt was just waaaiting to get fucked, because today is a little different than the other days,” He picks up his pace, fucking up into you steady but firm, “Today your pussy is a little bit more needy for me,” the recoil of your ass sending vibrations through your lower body as Yunho’s movements are relentless. “Today you’re gonna let me get you pregnant.”

And there it was. Your brain immediately shuts off. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, and so hard-” “Unnnnhhhhhooohhhh my Godddddd!” “Yeahhhhh, yeah let me hear you baby,” You grip the disheveled collar of Yunho’s shirt, completely at his mercy, taking what he gives you. “I’m gonna cum all in this pretty fucking cunt and get you pregnant, I’m gonna make you a Mommy.” “Yunho Please! Pleaseee~” “Please what my love?” Yunho lifts your chin up to meet his gaze, your dark brown eyes staring several miles into his own, communicating beyond a frequency that sound couldn’t even capture in that moment, and he understood every bit of it…but figured it would be fulfilling just to hear it fall from your lips, “Pleaseeee? What.” “Please make me a Mommy~” In seconds, he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he drills into you. “Ahhhhhh!!!!” The sound of your screams, bounce off the interior of the car, and you pray that the seats absorb it all.

“Yesss, yes! Let me hear you Mama. Fuckkkk let me hear you!” “Fuckkkk!” “Uh huhhh~ Fuck! You sound so good taking my dick like this! Ughhhh~” You both were a mess, fully enraptured in pleasure and no longer prisoners to time. You place your forehead against Yunho’s now eye to eye as he continues to lean into you with force, your breathing syncing with his, both chasing your highs. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you.” He asks you with dark eyes, almost as if it wasn’t a request. Suddenly you’re whimpering against his lips, “Yeah you are gonna cum, you’re close, so close for me.” “I’m-“ “I’m gonna-“ He mocks, imitating your whines, “You’re gonna what, cream around me and take this cum like a good little wife?” All you could do was gasp at his sharp remarks, “You’re gonna cum for me like a good little wife? Hm?” “Yeah!” “Yeah? You’re gonna take my fucking cum like a good fucking wife?” “Yes! Yes! Ye- Yes! Yes! Yes!” You gush around him, repeating your words like a mantra against his ear. He returns the favor, “Good Girl” replaying in his surprisingly vulgar vocabulary as he finishes inside of you. You collapse against him for some time. Aligning your heaving chest with his as you both come down. Clammy from the altercation. You swivel around some assuming it may help with the progress, and he moans a little.

“What are you doing?” Yunho laughs at you endearingly, watching you be an unintentional menace. “I don’t know I just thought it might do something.” You giggle some, lifting off of his softening length with your combined messes drooling out of you and down your inner thighs. Yunho takes it all in, shaking his head in amazement at the fucked out state of you. Just as he imagined it, better than he imagined, even. Staring him down, you study his body language, how he looks subtly exhausted but not TOO drained. Almost as if on a bodily timer, your temperature starts to rise again, “You’re plotting.” you narrow your eyes at him. Sucking in a sharp breath between teeth, Yunho helps you up, only to place you over the front armrest.

You squirm as your stomach and breasts make contact with the cold leather. “See I KNEW you were plotting!” “Oh hush, don’t act like you’re not excited.” Yunho makes light work of your tights, pulling off and discarding what was left of it, and sliding your panties off of one of your legs in order to spread them further apart. Your breathing catches at the gust of air that hits your pussy. Yunho’s cock inches away as he works his hand over it. He reaches his hand around holding it out to your mouth, “Spit.”, and you oblige him. He continues to work himself hard again, one hand bunching your business skirt up your waist, exposing your bare ass. His hand slides down to caress it, before landing a harsh smack, resorting back to soothing over the stinging spot. All marks undetectable on your brown skin, he lands a few more smacks on both cheeks, knowing he’ll be safe. You jolt and whine at the barrage of sharp pain and he leans down to pepper the side of your face in kisses, rubbing your attacked spots to soothe the pain.

“Don’t forget to breathe my love.” You didn’t realize you weren’t until he mentioned it, immediately offloading a heavy breath. Yunho clicks his tongue as he braces one hand on your shoulder to hold you in place, fiddling with the bunched up hem of your skirt. Your body stiffens as you feel him use his fingers to collect your cum and push it back into your pussy. You shudder in pleasure, still recovering from your last high, not too far from another if touched too much. You feel him shift behind you again as his cock teases its way past your entrance one more time. “Mmm, You wore this skirt on purpose Mama?” He glides into you with ease, bottoming out effortlessly, and you sink into the armrest, your moan resembling that of a pornstar’s. “You knew you were gonna see me to get this pretty pussy filled, Hmm?” Yunho immediately picks up the pace, keeping his hand firm on your shoulder, guiding you back onto him. “Ooooohhhhh~” “Yeahhhh? You wore this skirt because you knew you were gonna get knocked up with my babies? Huh?” Yunho’s words started to slur as they turned into shameless moans, “Yeahhh~ keep moaning for me, it’s just us here, keep going, I wanna hear youuu~” even he started sounding pornstar-like, it was music to your already ringing ears.

He began to pound into you with fervor, your tits now hanging over the armrest, bouncing violently as you grip the seating of the driver’s and passengers seat to avoid going headfirst into the dashboard. “Oh fuckkkk I’m gonna cum again, shit- shit- shittttt~” Yunho plants a foot on the flooring of the suv to steady himself as he leans flush against your back, engulfing you. “Yes, yes, yessss~ come inside of me pleaseeee~” Your final plea sends him over the edge, ultimately setting off a chain reaction that makes you cum around him all over again.

You shudder with each thrust as he slows his pace gradually before coming to a complete stop, staying in the same position as he bear hugs you from behind over the dashboard. You laugh to yourselves as you match your breathing once more, an exercise you both had been doing since the start of everything. Thank God workers at Yunho’s job actually took advantage of leaving the facility for lunch, or else your windows definitely would’ve been knocked on. Sure, the 5% tint helps, but you’re sure the car rocking would’ve given enough away.

Yunho peels himself off of you and helps you up, sitting you down next to him in the middle seats. You lay your head on his shoulders as the both of you dwell in the backseat, visibly fucked out. Yunho’s shirt hangs open and off one shoulder with a button or two missing, crucifix chain crooked yet still sitting proudly on his chest, even after such a sinful act. Your soft locs were fully down by now, splayed and running down the side of Yunho’s torso. Your skirt and his pants still undone, neither of you bothering to bother with your surroundings just yet. Yet your blouse was surprisingly still somewhat presentable. You both sit in solitude and enjoyment of each other for a little while longer. Yunho looks down at you lovingly, watching as you pull your phone out to do something. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” “Letting the Editor in Chief know that I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day? Noo, I couldn’t possibly…” “Oh well that’s a shame…” You look at your husband, waiting, “Because I told the team to take the rest of the day off.” THAT’S why the deck looked so lifeless. “I can’t believe you set me up!” He peppers your face in kisses one last time.

“Alright, let’s get out of here, we definitely need to change. We’re celebrating tonight.” “Tonight? Forrrrr?” “For theeee…..you know…..” Yunho gestures towards himself then your stomach, and you grin knowingly. “The lunch rush?” “Exactlyyy, the lunch rush.” He says before pulling you in for one last kiss. Yunho helps fix up your appearance before assisting you out of the Range Rover and back into your car. Kissing you for the last time yet again. “I’ll be right behind you.” He starts back to his vehicle, looking over to you, “Oh, feel free to put me in your schedule whenever you have an hour or two for lunch. Just to make sure it takes.” Yunho winks at you, getting back in the car as you both leave work for the day.

‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎ If you liked what you read, please let me know, it gives me hope. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated ‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎

⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.Masterlist.⊹˚₊♡⟡˙⋆

⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.Blacktiny Writers Hub.⊹˚₊♡⟡˙⋆

[withahappyrefrain]

⭐ 60 Fun Meet Cutes ⭐

1) A and B’s coffee orders are identical. Confusion (and promised calls) occur.

2) A always steals B’s parking spot and normally they wouldn't say anything but not today asshole!

3) A and B are seated next to each other at the singles table for a wedding.

4) B owns a bookshop and A really needs this book because their book club meeting is in two days.

5) A is a doctor/nurse treating B for an injury, but B won't stop flirting.

6) A pretends to be B’s significant other because they can tell that creep is bothering B.

7) They meet at the dog park and their dogs won't stop playing with one another.

8) They meet at the dog park and B’s dog won't stop following A’s!

9) They're both at a party and notice the other is sitting alone on the couch so we join.

10) They get volun-told to do a karaoke duet by their respective friend groups.

12) A and B’s families have been trying to set them up for years. They meet by accident.

13) A runs a stand at the local farmers market that B loves (the owner being cute and sweet is a major plus too).

14) They grab the same book at the library.

15) “You have the wrong number, but stay on!”

16) A and B have been set up on a blind date together. Neither one of them expect it to go well, given their mutual friend's track record.

17) A and B both want the last pack of cigarettes. It's not even for themselves, but they'll certainly argue about it.

18) "Hi, I'm pretty sure I saw you on a dating app and while I swiped right, you did not and wow you're beautiful in person."

19) A’s a tour guide for B, who is currently supervising a field trip of twenty seven-year olds.

20) A is B’s least favorite author but they don't realize until halfway through their rant.

21) "Hey, my friend is into your friend. But they're too scared to make a move, can you help me get them together?"

22) They're at the grocery store and A can't reach the item on the top shelf, so B helps them.

23) “Hey, so I helped your grandparent cross the street and they insisted that I meet you, their grandchild.”

24) It's their high school reunion and A is like eighty percent sure B was their lab partner, unfortunately B has no idea what they're talking about.

25) A’s friends insisted on going to a strip club for a bachelor/bachelorette party and A is really enjoying their time talking to B, the hostess.

26) An unexpected torrential downpour happens and they end up taking shelter at the same place.

27) “I'm your neighbor and I swear to God, if you don't turn that music down-"

28) They’re both PhD students and their dissertations contradict each other's and boy, are they going to have some intense eye contact about it.

29) B is A’s child's new teacher and their kid won't stop mentioning that their parent is single.

30 “I'm so sorry, but my friends won't stop bothering me until I get someone's number tonight, it doesn't have to be your real one, I'm just so tired of their shenanigans.”

31) A is the hot firefighter who visits B’s classroom to talk about safety.

32) A and B are paired up for a roller coaster and one of them needs to hold the other's hand to get through the ride.

33) “Look, your date may not want to dance with you, but I certainly will!”

34) They're both celebrities and their fans ship them so A and B do an interview together for their respective press tours.

35) They're both on the bus and A is reading the book B’s been wanting so badly and they gotta know if it's good or not because the waitlist at the library is ridiculous.

36) They're at an art museum and have wildly different interpretations of the same portrait.

37) It's been arranged by their families for A and B to marry as a peace treaty. When they meet for the first time, they bond over their families fighting

38) "Do you mind if I sit here? There are no other seats available."

39) A doesn’t know why their friend's girlfriend invited them to their coworker's nephew's bar mitzvah but they have a stain from the chocolate fountain and B is an angel with their Tide to go stick.

40) “If you don't fix your collar/tie/hat, I will do it myself!”

41) “The food in your grocery store cart looks so good, what are you making?"

42) A sees B at the Renaissance Fair and is determined to give B a rose.

43) They're both at the eye doctor and can't figure out which glasses to buy.

44) They end up sitting next to each other in a movie theater during a horror movie, and cling to each other for moral support

45) A owns a flower shop and B just needs the courage to go inside and say hello.

46) B’s dog somehow got out and A find it. Yes, it's late at night but from B’s voice over the phone, A knows they need to return this dog STAT.

47) A has always signed up to bring the dessert for their work's potluck. Who does B think they are taking their slot?

48) A’s friends signed them up for a dating app and set them up on a date with B without A’s knowledge.

49) B’s running an adoption event and A doesn’t even like animals but my God, is B so damn cute with them.

50) They're spies who have to pretend to be a couple for an assignment.

51) They’re professors who teach the same course but disagree over teaching methods.

52) A is B’s friend's asshole boss and B is just trying to drop off C’s lunch without strangling A.

53) A’s a witch who run a shop. B barges in, asking about the best curse to give someone (without killing them of course).

54) A is a hairdresser at a fancy salon and B shouldn't be spending $150 on a haircut but they need to talk to A.

55) A is a personal trainer and B is their client and A knows they need to keep it professional but it's really hard!

56) A is the photographer and B’s the caterer for the worst wedding ever.

57) It's the county Fair and A has lost their niece/nephew, so they ask B for help.

58) A is having a horrendous case of writer’s block, B works at the cafe A has been staying in for the past few days and is very concerned.

59) Hades and Persephone AU bc why not

60) A is a tattoo artist and it's B's first time getting a tattoo.

[academiclifexd]

Finding Your Balance: Academic life and Everything in Between.

School isn’t just about projects, exams, and assignments. It’s also about exploring passions, joining clubs, making friends, and discovering what truly excites you. Whether it’s sports, music, student government, or volunteering, extracurricular activities add color to academic life. But let’s be real, balancing schoolwork and activities can feel overwhelming. The key? Finding the right rhythm so you can excel in both without feeling pressured.

Why Balance Matters?

Balancing academics and extracurriculars isn’t just about keeping your grades up while having fun. It teaches essential life skills, including:

• Time Management – Learning to prioritize tasks helps prepare you for college, work, and other things.

• Personal Growth – Extracurriculars help build leadership, teamwork, and creativity.

• Stress Relief – Activities you enjoy can be a great escape from academic pressure.

How to Manage It All

1. Know Your Priorities

Not all activities carry the same weight. Academics should come first, but extracurriculars can complement your learning. Decide what’s most important to you and organize your time properly.

2. Make a Schedule

Use a planner, calendar, or even an app to track deadlines, exam dates, and activity schedules. A structured routine helps you stay on top of everything without last-minute stress.

3. Don’t Overload Yourself

It’s easy to want to join every club or team, but spreading yourself too much can lead to burnout. Pick activities that genuinely interest you and align with your goals.

4. Use Your Time Wisely

Waiting for a ride? Review your notes. Have a free period? Get a head start on homework. Small pockets of time can make a big difference when used effectively.

5. Stay Organized

Keep track of assignments, deadlines, and schedules so nothing gets forgotten. A tidy workspace can also improve focus and productivity.

6. Learn to Say No

If your schedule is getting overwhelming, it’s okay to step back. Prioritizing your mental health and well-being is just as important as excelling in school and activities.

7. Ask for Help When You Need It

Whether it’s a teacher, leader, or family member, don’t hesitate to reach out if you’re feeling stressed or struggling to keep up. Support from others can make a big difference.

Balancing school and extracurricular activities isn’t always easy, but with the right mindset and strategies, it’s absolutely possible. It’s not just about managing time, it’s about making the most of your academic journey while enjoying the experiences that shape who you are. So go ahead, chase your dreams, and find the balance that works for you!

[wrongbodies]

The Worst Science Convention I Ever Went To, pt 2

I was seated unceremoniously near the front of the school bus that the teacher had yanked me on. I was still reeling from seeing Randy's nerdy face in the camera that I was barely aware of what was happening around me. I kept staring down at the camera app hoping it was just some weird prank that quack Dr. Lark was putting me through. Or maybe we were still in the drifting experiment?

That was clearly just desperation, though. I could tell this was real. I pinched myself a few times, or when I ran my hands over my face. The sensations were too real. Nothing like the drifting, where it felt surreal and fantastical. No, I was now sitting on a school bus trapped in the nerdy body of some random high schooler.

I searched my pockets and found a wallet. Opening it there was barely anything here. 3 dollars, a library card (well-worn), and then a learners permit with Randy's face peering out like a deer caught in headlights.

"Randall Parker" I said aloud. That was his name... and mine for now. If we can swap back. I felt my stomach sinking as I realized that the fire may have destroyed the experiment... I need to get in touch with Dr. Lark. And Randy. Fuck. He's in my body... what is he going to do? I dread to think about what havoc he could wreak.

I spun out in my mind as the bus drove back towards the high school. I did see that the rest of the class were nearly as nerdy as Randy is. Seems like an elective field trip for this class... I just wonder if any of these kids are friends with Randy? No one has tried to talk to me, but then again, we did just escape a massive fire. Everyone seems pretty quiet.

The bus pulled up to a high school I didn't recognize. Some special high school it looked like, nothing like the school I had gone to. There was already a group of people waiting to receive us. When the bus opened its doors, we filed out and onto the sidewalk. I was just realizing how I wouldn't recognize Randy's parents. Would they be here to pick him up?

I didn't have to wait too long before a woman screeched "Raaaandy" and pulled me into a big hug. She was large, almost comically so when compared to Randy's bony body. The fiery red hair was a giveaway though. She started to pull me towards the nearby parking lot when I was tugged yet again by an unknown individual.

This time, a somehow even scrawnier boy with white-blond hair and swamp green eyes had my attention. He was sweaty, and clad in a shirt that read "Ballard Polytechnic High School Track and Field."

"Oh Randy, I was so worried about you!" He said, a deeper voice than expected coming from his slight body. What was more surprising though was when he leaned in, pulling my shoulders towards him, and planted a long, wet kiss on my lips. I lurched away, but he was holding on. He did give me a brief look, surprise or confusion - I couldn't read his expression.

"Are you ok, babe?" He asked.

"Bradley, he is probably just still shaken up from the fire. If you want to come with us and have dinner you can. He'd appreciate it, I'm sure." The woman said. I really need to find out her name... does Randy call her "Mom" or "Mother?" I could see him saying it either way...

The car ride was awkward. Randy's Mom had me sit in the back with Bradley, who appears to be his boyfriend. He was very clingy, apparently. He didn't sit on the far side of the seat. Instead, he slid right over to the middle, and buckled in. Then he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and leaned into me.

I was playing into the "shocked survivor" role because I had no idea how to respond to male affection like this. I was strictly into women, and the closest to other guys I got was goofing around in the locker room. This guy seemed smitten with Randy though, which... do gay men have completely different taste in men than women? In my own body they would practically throw themselves at me and my friends. And I wasn't the dating type, either.

Randy's home was similar to his mother in a way. It wasn't huge, but it had this aura of being welcoming, warm, and a bit overbearing. Knicknacks were all around, almost overwhelming the tables and other surfaces across the house. When we shuffled inside, and kicked off our shoes, I started to wander until Bradley steered me to Randy's bedroom.

"Are you ok, babe?" He whispered, as he shut the door behind him. I paused before responding, looking around the room.

The room was a haven for a dork. Dark blue walls, a slightly off-white carpet, were about all that was neutral in the room. After that, shelves full of manga and fantasy novels lined the edges, a desk with an impressive computer dominated a corner of the room, and then a bed that looked lumpy - likely due to the huge pile of laundry left haphazardly on the quilt was leaning a bit. And then the closet with clothes actually trailing out of it. Various sweaters, pants, and other random articles of clothing seemed to indicate a whirlwind had been through the closet.

"Randy?" Bradley asked, softly. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, as he rested his chin on my shoulder. He nuzzled in, planting a warm kiss just behind my ear. I knew my face would be bright red. This was too strange. I wasn't Randy. I wasn't gay. I was definitely not a dorky high school boy.

But why was my cock reacting?

I shifted, and Bradley let go. Turning to him, I started to say something but he ambushed me with a kiss. He pressed his skinny, sweaty body against me. This time, despite my initial misgivings, I gave in. This felt wrong to Seth. But maybe being in Randy's body this was just normal? I couldn't tell, and honestly this was turning me on. So maybe I could enjoy it for a little bit.

Bradley pulled away. "Ok, let's get you out of these smoky clothes. Can I borrow something too? I feel gross."

"Sure." I started to reach for the closet door but he guided me to the bed and sat me down.

"I've got it!" He said. I had to admit he was very sweet. He was affectionate, and seemed to genuinely care about my - or Randy's wellbeing. He tossed some clothing aside until he found some sweats and a tee for himself. Then he pulled out a onesie pajama outfit. It looked like some kind of pokemon?

"Really?" I asked. I was very skeptical of this choice.

"Of course, handsome. You love this, especially when you've had a rough day. This feels like a perfect day to put this on." Bradley explained.

"I suppose..." I murmured. I slipped it on, and felt like an absolute loser. Bradley seemed to find it endearing.

"My umbreon, my love." He cooed, and pushed me back to the bed. He kicked the laundry mound off the bed, and tumbled in next to me. "We don't have much time before your mom will finish dinner. But let's cuddle, ok?"

"Fine by me." I responded. He snuggled up to my body, nestling himself into the crook of my arm. "This is nice."

"It is. I know today was scary. But I'm here now." Bradley whispered lovingly.

This was absurd. I don't know what I'm doing. This felt strangely good, even though I was certainly not gay, and still reeling from being trapped in this nerdy body. In the back of my mind I kept thinking about getting in contact with my real body, and then finding that scientist to see about reversing this all.

But first... a little more cuddling wouldn't hurt. Just a little.

[puck-luck]

baby boy hughes (2) | beaquinn

saturday, august 21, 2032 10:34 A.M.

August is fun for a few reasons– first, it’s the last month of summer. Second, Bea and Quinn have made it a tradition to rent out a bungalow in Litchton every August so that they can spend time with Honey and Trevor. Third, Bea and Honey’s hockey-playing husbands have started a summer hockey camp in Litchton during the month of August. This year, it’s been Trevor and Quinn and their two teams of fifteen, practicing and learning the game and having weekly scrimmages.

That’s where they are now. Bea and Honey are sitting on the bleachers, watching a gaggle of elementary schoolers crowd around the puck to try and get a touch. Both Quinn and Trevor are calling for them to spread out, but the kids either can’t hear them or they would rather be the one to win the puck despite their coach’s shout.

“Oh, motherf–” Honey cuts herself off, but covers Luke’s ears. He’s sitting on her lap, playing with Honey’s wallet– he likes the zipper. Pennies keep dropping from the compartment, but Honey said she’d pick them up later. She looks at Bea. “Do you have a tampon? Or a pad?”

“Um, I don’t know. I’ll check my purse.” Bea unzips the bag and rifles around. “I thought you weren’t getting periods anymore. You told me the shot was finally working for you for real. No side effects.”

“It did, when I was still getting it,” Honey explains. “We switched BCs. I’m on the pill now instead of the shot.”

“Why’d you switch?” Bea can’t find a tampon. She starts to look again.

“We figured the pill would be easiest to get off of if we wanted to start trying,” Honey replies with a shrug. “We’ve been married for three years. Trev’s ready for a baby. I think we should wait a little longer. We’re trying to find a compromise, and the pill is what we’re at so far.”

“You didn’t tell me you were thinking about it,” Bea says. 

“I’m not sure yet. I like that it’s just me and Trevor right now. I’d still feel a bit like a teen mom if I got pregnant right now.”

“You’re turning thirty this year,” Bea laughs. “And I don’t have anything. I really thought I did. We can duck out to go to Food Lion and grab some before the game is over.”

“Okay, but you have to check me when I stand up,” Honey says. She shifts Luke in her arms as she stands up, making him drop the wallet. 

Luke lets out an indignant shout and starts wiggling in Honey’s arms. “Relax, bud, I’ll get my wallet,” Honey tells him. “Don’t throw a tantrum.” She bends over at the waist so that Bea can get a good look at her jeans, which are unblemished for the time being.

Bea pats Honey’s behind. “You’re good. Let’s go. I’ll drive if you put the guy in his carseat.”

“No way. I saw how he fought you on that at Mexico the other day. I’m not his mom.” Honey passes Luke to Bea, tucking her wallet into her purse. Luke is pouting, but he’s not screaming. Bea can work with pouting.

The fight to get into the carseat is just as frustrating as the time at Mexico that Honey is referring to. Luckily, Luke’s got a ministick in the backseat that he can use like a drumstick, adding a nice ambiance to the car ride. He’s reluctant to let the stick go when they get to Food Lion, so Bea carries him into the store with the stick in hand. 

Honey grabs a pack of tampons and heads to the bathroom. Bea considers grabbing a pack of her own, expecting that her own period ought to be coming soon. It’s been a minute since Bea had her period– it must have been around her birthday. Maybe it was before. She hesitates for a second, then goes to pull her phone of out of her back pocket. Luke tries to grab it, but she manages to hold it out of his reach. She navigates into her period tracking app.

Your period is 34 days late.

Bea’s jaw drops and she stares at her phone. That means her period was supposed to start soon after her birthday and didn’t. In her mind, she echoes Honey’s sentiment from earlier: “Motherfucker.”

Honey comes back from the bathroom and grins. “All good. Let’s go check out.”

“I think we have to buy something else,” Bea says. She hands her phone to Honey and watches the girl’s eyes grow wide. 

They take the pregnancy test in the Food Lion bathroom, the same one that Honey had just used. She holds Luke while Bea paces back and forth in front of the sink. It’s the second-longest three minutes of her life– the first was, of course, when she did something similar in her own bathroom nine months before Luke was born.

When it’s positive, Honey hugs Bea and squishes Luke between their bodies. They buy one more thing before leaving the store: a Best Big Brother shirt for Luke that’s as ugly as most grocery store shirts are, but Bea likes it. She wrestles it over Luke’s head before she belts him into the carseat to drive back to the rink. 

Bea hopes that Quinn will read the shirt and understand its meaning this time. When she’d learned that she was pregnant with Luke, she’d shelled out for a “Daddy 43” Canucks jersey that had taken two weeks to get to their apartment, which meant that Bea had had to wait two weeks to tell Quinn that she was pregnant. He hadn’t gotten the hint right away. Bea remembers how he’d said “Oh, this is sick, baby. Way to plan ahead.” and Bea had to say, “Quinn, no–”

Hopefully, he’ll read the shirt and get it this time. She’s got an hour until he’s off the ice for the day, so she’ll just have to see then.

wednesday, september 22, 2032 6:52 P.M.

“How’s my best girl feeling?” Quinn asks when he gets home. 

Bea’s got a lasagna going in the oven, so she’s been playing with Luke in his high chair while that cooks. She’s sitting at the table with a stack of kid’s books to her right and two superheroes in her hands. Luke is banging his Batman along his high chair tray and shouting gibberish.

Today marked ten weeks since Bea’s birthday, which is the day that she’s now certain is when Quinn knocked her up. Just like last pregnancy, ten weeks in, she’s not feeling good. Two years ago, she was able to lounge around all day and park herself in front of the toilet when need be. This year, she’s got an 18-month-old toddler running around. He does not want to be contained in the bathroom all day, no matter what Bea does to make the trips fun. She bought bathroom crayons and told him that he could draw on the walls. Luke didn’t care. He’s getting harder and harder to entertain as he grows.

Bea blinks at Quinn, able to feel the dark circles under her eyes and green tinge on her cheeks. She hasn’t stood up from the table since she and Luke sat down, knowing that she’ll probably only make it as far as the kitchen sink before she throws up again. “I hate you,” she says.

Quinn laughs. He picks Luke up and frees him from the high chair, kissing his chubby cheek before setting him down on the floor. 

Luke toddles away, probably up to no good, but at least Quinn is here now. He can run off and be the savior if Luke gets into trouble.

“You do not,” Quinn tells Bea, brushing her hair out of her face and greeting her with a kiss. He leans against the table, standing next to Bea. “I’m sorry you’re feeling sick, sweetheart.”

“I think I threw up every hour,” Bea complains. She pouts at Quinn from her seat at the table, putting Luke’s toys aside. “And Luke didn’t want to hang out with me. After lunch, I was putting him down for his nap, and I had to throw up in his little trash can because his diaper was rank, and do you know what he said to me?”

She despises the way Quinn’s lips quirk up, already stifling a laugh. He thinks their son is the funniest kid ever. “What did he say?” Quinn asks.

Bea puts on her best toddler voice. “Ew, Mama,” she quotes. “All done bleughhh.”

Quinn snorts and claps a hand over his mouth, shoulders shuddering. “He did not.”

“He did! He told me to go away once I got him in the crib, too.” Bea crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in the chair. “It’s not like I can help it.”

“He doesn’t mean it,” Quinn assures her. “Luke’s not even two. He just doesn’t understand.”

Bea sighs and rolls her head back on her shoulders. “Can you put Luke down for bed tonight?” she asks. “I want to take a long bath.”

“Sure, Bea,” Quinn says. “I’ll rub your shoulders tonight too, if you want.”

He knows how horny she gets when he’s touching her, especially now that she’s pregnant. All of her senses are heightened and Quinn is taking full advantage of it. “You’re playing with fire, Hughes,” Bea tells him.

Luke comes speeding down the hallway, neon orange plastic puck in one hand. He’s dragging the stick that Quinn accidentally left in the laundry room behind him with his other hand, dangerously close to catching the blade on the base of the lamp in the front hallway. “Dada, play,” Luke requests, knocking Quinn’s thigh with the puck until Quinn takes it from him. Luke’s transitioning the stick to his other hand and swinging it like a weapon because he has no spatial awareness, so Quinn picks him up and wrestles the stick from his grip. He trades the puck back to placate the toddler.

Quinn leans down and kisses the top of Bea’s head. “Think about it. It would be so nice to have all of that tension just… melt away,” he teases. He thumbs over her lip and winks, then disappears down the hallway with Luke.

Bea lays her arms on the table and uses them to cushion her forehead. She takes a deep breath. She can hear her boys starting up a game of floor-hockey in Luke’s room and allows herself to relax. Quinn has effectively tagged in for the night, which Bea is happy about. She needs a few minutes to herself.

The oven beeps. Great timing– just when she’s free, the lasagna is ready.

wednesday, april 6, 2033 12:10 P.M.

Bea runs through her mental-checklist for the umpteenth time:

Honey has Luke. Check. 

She got very pale when Bea asked her to be in the delivery room and stammered out that she’d really prefer to be on Luke duty instead. It’s fine. Trixie said she’d sub in.

Trixie is grabbing a smoothie for Bea. Check.

The doctors said it would be fine for Bea to get some natural sugar in her system after the birth.

Quinn is going to call after practice. Check.

She’ll tell him that she’s in labor then. Check.

They’ll decide on a name then. Check.

He’s got a game tonight, then he can probably fly back tomorrow. She can also manage until their Florida roadie is over in three days. The playoffs are another story, but that’s in a few weeks. She has time to figure that out. 

Bea can probably convince her mom to come to Vancouver and watch the new baby while she takes Luke to a playoff game. It’s the first year since he was born that they’re in the race for the Cup and he’s really excited to see Quinn play. He’s always excited to see Quinn play, but Bea thinks that Quinn has managed to explain to Luke that they playoffs are special, and that’s what’s got him so excited. 

There are so many moving parts. Bea kind of wishes that she and Quinn had waited another month or two to get pregnant, right before the start of his season, so that he would be home for this birth.

She hopes practice is over soon. Honey, Trixie, and Bea had waited two hours before coming to the hospital because Bea had insisted it was fine. Luke took eighteen hours total, so she assumed Baby #2 could wait until after lunch.

She was wrong.

Baby #2 is coming much faster than Luke did.

Bea’s not actually sure she can hold him in until after Quinn calls. The contractions are getting very close together and, last the nurse checked, she was at eight centimeters. 

She’s standing now, using the bed as an anchor. Bea’s trying to bend forward at the waist to get a stretch in, but it’s making her lightheaded. Last time this happened, Quinn was standing beside her and rubbing her back, whispering in her ear and reminding her to breathe. Now, Quinn’s about four thousand miles away and in the middle of practice. 

They weren’t even expecting Baby #2 to come today. It’s a stroke of luck that Bea has people with her– Trixie happened to take an extra week off to hang out with Bea before the baby came. Honey’s only in town because Trevor played Seattle on Thursday and she wanted to come up to Vancouver for the weekend. He– because Bea’s pretty certain that it’s a he again– was scheduled to come on Monday. He’s a bit early and she’s not complaining, per se, because she loves her baby already, but he couldn’t wait until his dad gets home?

The nurse knocks on the door and enters, bringing Trixie with her. “Hi, Mrs. Hughes,” the nurse says softly. She touches Bea’s shoulder. “I need you to get on the bed so I can check how dilated you are.”

“I feel like I have to shit,” Bea grits out, lifting her head to eye the woman. “Does that tell you anything? I read somewhere that needing to shit means that you’re ready to push.”

The nurse considers her words. “It’s not uncommon. Let’s just check you first, then I’ll let you know if we’re ready to push.”

Bea maneuvers her way onto the bed and breathes shakily. The contractions hurt, even with the epidural. She’d come to the hospital thinking she’d be brave and try to go all natural, but she was not strong enough for that.

The nurse reaches out and measures Bea’s dilation, nodding to herself when she pulls her hand away and disposes of her glove. “I’m going to get the doctor,” she tells Bea. “I think you’re ready. Try not to push until I get back, okay?”

Bea nods and agrees, but her heart is pumping out of her chest. Once the nurse leaves, Bea covers her face with her hands and whines. She feels completely distraught. This wasn’t supposed to happen until Monday. They don’t even have a name. They have options, but they haven’t decided. They wanted to wait until the baby was born to learn the gender and choose a name.

Trixie helps her sit up and ties Bea’s hair into a knot. “I know it hurts, but we’re almost there,” she murmurs. “We’re so close to adding to your little family, Bea-girl.”

“It’s not that,” Bea cries from behind her hands. She sniffs and squeezes her eyes shut. “I want Quinn.”

“Oh, darling,” Trixie comforts, sharing a frown with Bea. She leans into Bea and gathers her up in a hug. 

“He should be here,” Bea continues. “I can’t do it.”

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Trixie says. “I’m sorry, Bea. I’m here. I’ll help you however I can.”

Bea feels a wave of hot tears fall over her cheeks and she sobs out loud. She hates Florida. She hates hockey. It’s not fair that she’s doing this without her husband, not when she knows he would want to be here just as bad as she wants him to be here.

She barely has time to think about that once the doctor enters the room. It’s the same doctor who helped deliver Luke, so she knows her, but Bea doesn’t want her to be here. Bea can feel Trixie stroking her hair and holding her hand and reminding her to breathe between pushes, but Bea would rather hear a different, deeper voice instead. At one point, Bea can hear her phone ringing, and it’s Quinn’s ringtone, but no one responds to her when she begs for them to answer it. They’re too focused on the baby, which she gets, but she needs to talk to Quinn. She needs him.

She’s exhausted by the time she’s done pushing. It’s only after her doctor lays the baby on Bea’s chest, after she delivers the placenta, and after everyone but Trixie and the nurse from before leaves the room that Bea is able to ask for Quinn again. She’s still crying a little bit. So is the baby on her chest and Bea is touching him reverently. Not only was she right about him being a boy, but she feels oddly comforted by the wailing. The baby knows that something is missing too. He wants his dad just as bad as Bea does. 

“Call Quinn,” Bea repeats again, looking over at Trixie. She’s about to grab Bea’s phone from the table.

Trixie lets out a little chuckle. “Okay, Miss Impatient. I’m getting there.” She taps around on Bea’s phone, then hands it over as it starts to ring. 

Bea holds the phone up so that both she and the baby are in the shot. He’s still gross from the birth, but the nurse is flittering around the room and straightening things out. When they first got to the hospital, Bea was very clear about wanting to have skin-to-skin time with the baby for at least thirty minutes, unless there was a medical emergency. He can get all wiped down and cleaned up when she’s ready. The goop isn’t hurting him.

Quinn is quick to pick up and Bea starts crying again as soon as his face fills the screen.

“Oh my God,” Quinn says first. He covers his mouth and adds, “Holy shit.”

“I had the baby,” Bea explains, her voice shaky.

“I can see that,” Quinn replies. He seems caught between surprise and laughter at her obvious statement. “Are you okay? Is– are they okay?”

“Everyone’s fine, I’m fine, he’s fine. I just miss you,” Bea laments with a sniff. She wants to wipe under her nose, but both of her hands are covered in baby-goop from touching the little guy, and she really doesn’t want that on her face. “I want you here.”

“Oh, sweet Bea,” Quinn exhales. He scrubs his hand over his scuff. “Who’s with you, baby? You’re not on your own, are you?”

“Trixie,” Bea says, turning the camera toward her sister, who is folding a blanket. She waves to Quinn. “Honey’s with Luke.”

“That’s good,” Quinn acknowledges. “Okay, yeah, that’s good. You’re not on your own. I’m so sorry I missed it, Bea.”

“You couldn’t help it,” Bea replies. Her rational thought is coming back, but her sentence only brings a fresh wave of tears. 

“I know, but I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” Quinn asks. He waits for Bea to nod, nodding along with her. “What’s the baby like, sweetheart? You said we had another boy?”

“Mhm,” Bea hums. She tilts the phone down to capture his face. He’s not really screaming, but he’s mouthing along her skin like he’s searching for her nipple. Bea recognizes the newborn tic and wonders if it’s a thing every newborn does or if it’s something just her boys have done. 

“He looks hungry,” Quinn laughs.

“I know, one sec,” Bea sets her phone down and pulls at her shirt, freeing one of her breasts and adjusting so the baby can latch on. The nurse has wandered closer, in case Bea needs help, but she’s got the muscle-memory down. Bea picks up the phone again. She doesn’t miss how Quinn quirks an eyebrow at the reveal of her skin. “We need to pick a name.”

“Do you have a favorite? Between the three?” Quinn asks.

Honestly, Bea doesn’t. Between Noah, Logan, and Patrick, she doesn’t care. She knows that ‘Jack’ is going to be the middle name– they decided that a long time ago, before Luke was even born. Even if their second baby was a girl, her middle name would be Jack. Bea thinks that could be pretty cute, with the right combination. She’s always loved the name Noah and Logan was Quinn’s favorite suggestion of his own. They’d decided on Patrick together, since Luke had a family name from the Hughes side and Bea thought it was only fair if they considered a family name from the McLean side. Patrick for Trixie was a lot better than Cecil for Cece.

Bea shakes her head. “They’re all good names.”

Quinn agrees. “Well, take a little time, get to know the guy, and let me know what you choose. I’m happy with whatever you pick, baby. You did all the heavy lifting, so I think it’s fair that you get to choose your favorite name.” He pauses, smiling when Bea frowns at him. He concedes a bit, knowing that Bea is against an executive decision. She wants to choose together. “Between you and me, I think ‘PJ’ has a nice ring to it. ‘NJ’ might not work if we think about how annoying his uncles would be.”

His comment draws a laugh from Bea. “Good point.”

Quinn stays quiet for a moment, just watching Bea through the screen. He licks his lips, then presses them together. “I am sorry that I couldn’t be there. As soon as I’m off the phone, I’m going to go find Coach and see how fast I can get home.”

Bea takes a deep breath. “Well, now I kind of want to let you go so that you get here faster,” she says, her voice teetering on the edge of joking. 

Quinn sees right through it. She might be trying to joke, but he can tell that she really does want him there. “Then I’m on my way,” he says, easy as can be. “I love you. I’ll text you as soon as I know the plan, okay? I’m going to try to be there by tonight.”

Bea relaxes into the pillows. He probably will charter the team plane himself if it gets him here faster. Quinn has proven time and time again that he would move mountains for his family. “I love you.”

“See you soon, baby. And actual baby,” he adds belatedly, winking at Bea through the screen. “Send me a picture of him as soon as you can, okay?”

“As soon as we get off the phone,” Bea promises. 

She hesitates to hang up and so does Quinn, which makes them laugh. Quinn is the first to go, but he’s also the first to text. 

It’s your choice, but I’m leaning towards Patrick. It’s the best way to thank Trixie for helping my best girl through today❤️ see you soon sweetheart

Bea smiles at the text and puts her phone down on the bed beside her hip. She looks down at the boy in her arms, still greedily gulping down his first meal. Bea touches the fine, sparse hair on his head and traces his wrinkly, pink cheek. Patrick Jack, she says to herself. She feels a tear of pure joy form in the corner of her eye and looks up to the ceiling before it can fall on his perfect little face. 

[meazalykov]

across the pond

lauren james x black!reader ( requested by my mutual @pinkyqil )

summary: you surprise your girlfriend at the euros final

you’ve never pulled an all-nighter in your life before, not like this anyway. sure, you’ve stayed up late cramming for exams, but this is different. 

the glow of the computer screen in front of you blurs with each passing hour. your eyes feel gritty, and your fingers ache from typing, but you don’t stop. you can’t. there’s too much riding on this.

you lean back in your chair, running your hands through your thick, coiled hair, tugging lightly at the roots in frustration. 

the clock on your laptop reads 3:47 am, and the words on your screen are starting to swim, but you push through. you have to. you can’t afford to let anything slip, not with how close the semester is to finishing. 

not with how much pressure you’re under.

columbia isn’t forgiving when it comes to deadlines, and you knew this when you got accepted. 

you also didn’t anticipate how difficult it would be to balance school and life, especially when your girlfriend is lauren james, playing at the highest level of football with chelsea and the england national team.

you check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time that night, no new messages from lauren. 

the last one is still there, sitting unanswered in your text thread, where the argument escalated and left the both of you simmering in frustration.

“you don’t get it, laur. you don’t know how this feels. you’re a footballer, not a college student.”

you regret saying that the moment it you said it, but you were so tired. so frustrated with the assignments piling up and the guilt you felt for not being able to make it to london to watch lauren play in the euro final against germany. 

and lauren? she had been so excited, so insistent that you come, that you be there to watch her on the biggest stage of her career.

“and you think i don’t get pressure? you think i don’t know how it feels to have people depending on me, waiting for me to perform? come on, y/n. that’s not fair.”

you can still hear her voice, quiet but sharp with disappointment, over the phone. that conversation ended hours ago, but it’s still looping in your mind, like some background track you can’t shut off.

you don’t have time to dwell on it now. you stare at the paper in front of you, force yourself to focus. 

the library is quiet except for the occasional rustle of paper or the sound of someone else’s fingers tapping on a keyboard. you’re one of the few people left at this hour, the kind of student who lives in the library when finals loom.

you shift in your seat, the wooden chair creaking under your weight, and refocus on the words in front of you. you’re so close to finishing. if you can just get through these last couple of pages, you can make it. 

you’ve already mapped it out in your head — finish the work, book a flight to london, and surprise lauren before the final.

it sounds simple, but it’s anything but.

the hours stretch on, but eventually, your fingers slow down, your paper complete. 

relief washes over you, your muscles relaxing for the first time in what feels like days. you save your work, upload your assignments, and lean back in your chair with a long exhale.

you did it.

now comes the real test.

you grab your phone, fingers shaking slightly from exhaustion and adrenaline as you pull up your flight app. 

there’s one that leaves JFK airport in three hours, direct to london, and your thumb hovers over the “book now” button for a second, before pressing it. the confirmation comes through almost immediately, and for the first time all night, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. 

you’re going to make it.

you quickly gather your things, tossing your laptop into your bag and making a mental note to grab some coffee before heading to the airport. as you make your way out of the library, the cool early morning air hits you, waking you up slightly as you pull your jacket tighter around yourself. 

hopefully the chairs on the plane are comfortable in comfort plus, since you’ll get your overdue sleep on the plane. 

your mind is racing with thoughts of lauren and the final. you’d said some things you shouldn’t have in that argument, but now you have the chance to make it right.

the cab ride to the airport is a blur, and before you know it, you’re boarding the plane, settling into your seat with a sigh. you shoot lauren a quick text — nothing too revealing, just that you’re thinking of her and you’re sorry about how the conversation ended. 

you doubt she’ll reply before the final, but it’s something.

you close your eyes for a moment, trying to rest before the flight takes off. the exhaustion from the all-nighter pulls you into a light sleep, but you’re too anxious to fully relax. your mind keeps going back to the moment lauren told you about england making it to the final, how her eyes had lit up, how excited she was. 

you’ve never seen her so happy, so ready for something. you didn’t want to let her down, and now, at the last minute, you’re determined to show up for her.

by the time the plane lands in london, you’re awake from sleeping on the whole flight. the moment your phone gets signal, you shoot a quick text to leah, who’s always been a good friend to both you and lauren.

“hey, i’m in london. didn’t know if you had a spare ticket? i know it’s late to ask.”

you’re not even sure if she’ll respond, she’s probably completely focused on the final, but a minute later, your phone buzzes.“

“hi!!! i got you. meet me at the stadium.”

your heart leaps, excitement flooding through you. you’re really going to make it.

when you arrive at the stadium, it’s already buzzing with energy. fans in england jerseys are everywhere, and you can feel the excitement in the air. you make your way to the designated section leah mentioned, slipping past security with the ticket she arranged for you.

you’ve never been in the friends and family section for a game this big before, and it feels surreal to be surrounded by people who are all here for their loved ones, just like you are.

the match is electric. england and germany, battling it out on the pitch in front of a roaring crowd. you feel every emotion as the game flows, biting your lip, clenching your fists every time lauren gets the ball. she’s playing brilliantly, and you’re bursting with pride.

then, chloe kelly scores. you jump to your feet, screaming along with the rest of the crowd, your heart pounding as england pulls ahead 2-1. 

you can barely contain your excitement as the final whistle blows, and england are crowned champions. the stadium erupts, and you find yourself screaming again, jumping up and down with the other family members and friends of the players. 

the joy in the air is palpable, infectious.

and then you see her — lauren, holding the trophy, her face a mixture of disbelief and pure happiness. you watch as she celebrates with her teammates, grinning from ear to ear, and your heart swells. this is everything she’s worked for.

as the celebrations wind down, you linger near the edge of the family section, watching as the players start making their way over to their loved ones. 

lauren is laughing with leah and georgia, the trophy still in her hands, when she suddenly pauses.

“is that—”

her eyes widen as she spots you, standing just a few feet away, talking to jess. her jaw drops, and for a second, she looks like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

you grin, waving slightly as her eyes lock onto yours.

“y/n?” lauren says, her voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

you take a step toward her, closing the gap between you as she breaks into a run, practically throwing herself into your arms.

“you’re here,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion as she pulls back to look at you, her hands cupping your face.

“there was no way i was going to miss this,” you say, grinning as you brush a curl out of her face.

her smile is blinding, and she leans in to kiss you, soft and sweet, her lips lingering on yours as the world around you fades away for a moment.

“i’m so proud of you,” you murmur against her lips, and you feel her smile grow even wider.

“i’m so happy you made it,” lauren whispers, pulling you into another hug, her arms wrapped tightly around you as the noise of the celebrations swirls around you.

and in that moment, standing there in the middle of a stadium full of thousands of people, with lauren holding onto you like you’re the only thing that matters.

you know you made the right choice. there was no way you could’ve missed this. not for anything in the world.

masterlist

thank you for the request pinky I hope you liked it :D

[luulapants]

Do you have any tips to be more punk in 2025 specifically for minors?

Hey, great question! Let's take a look at our list and see what still applies and what we can flip around for you.

Cut fast fashion - Still applies! Try clothing swaps with friends.

Cut subscriptions Analyze your media consumption - Do you tend to play phone games that are psychologically manipulative? Are algorithms taking you to content that makes you upset? Track your screen time, think about what's being sold to you, and resist only consuming the media that is fed to you.

Green your community self - Forget touching grass, find ways to touch dirt. Spend time outside in nature. Go for hikes, look at trees, track how plants and animals change over the seasons. You're part of the natural world, so go connect with it!

Be kind - Still applies! Try handing out more compliments.

Intervene - Still applies, and especially applies to bullies, including teachers. This can be as simple as saying, "That was a really messed up thing to say. I think you owe X an apology."

Get closer to your food - Still applies! Try packing your lunch.

Use opensource software Reject Web 2.0 - Before you try to learn Linux, people your age need to start by learning some basic computer and coding skills. My generation was given computer classes and had social media that encouraged custom coding. Yours has been deprived of this education and given prepackaged web content. Reject AI. Right click + inspect element + fuck around. Learn Raspberry Pi. Become the cyberpunk hacker you want to see in the world.

Make less trash - Still applies! If mom won't let you start a compost in the backyard, propose starting one at school!

Get involved in local school politics - Know what's going on with your school board, with school administration. Start an underground, uncensored school newspaper with the real dirt.

DIY > fashion - High school is where a lot of adults learned their bad habits about keeping up with appearance/fashion demands. Refuse to buy in now and make homemade the new cool.

Ditch Google - Still applies! And also check your app settings to see if you have apps with unnecessary permissions.

Forage - Still applies!

Volunteer - Still applies! There might be fewer opportunities for minors, but you'll never know until you ask. Don't be afraid to be the only young person at the volunteer session.

Help your neighbors classmates - Offer to study with students who are struggling. Become someone people can trust to tell if their home situation is difficult. If you have friends who don't get enough to eat at home, bring them home for dinner. Check on people.

Fix stuff - Still applies! This can be a fun activity with friends, too. Let's all hang out and see if we can fix this busted stereo!

Mix up your transit - Still applies! Is taking the bus considered lame at your school? Do it anyway.

Engage in the arts - Still applies! Pay attention to art events that your classmates are putting on. Go to the school play - or join! Stop in the art classrooms to see what people are working on.

Go to the library - Still applies, public and school libraries! Talk to the librarians - they know things. Find out if there are after school programs you can take advantage of.

Listen local - Even more local! Stop by the band room after school to listen to practice. Does someone in your school have a band? Listen to them, cheer them on! Start a band! The great thing about punk music is that you can be really, really awful and still sound punk as hell.

Buy local Barter local - Lots of young folks don't have much control over or access to money, but that doesn't mean you and your classmates can't engage in barter. Figure out what you have to offer that other people might want, and trade for stuff you want. I used to cut hair and pierce ears in exchange for weed and rides to the mall. Maybe you can sew a friend's jacket in exchange for them bringing you a homemade lunch.

Become unmarketable - Still applies! PLEASE do this.

Use cash Steal ethically - Before engaging in shoplifting, make sure you know who you're stealing from! Stealing from Walmart is morally correct. Stealing from a family-owned grocery, a local coop, or a local artist? That fucking sucks, dude. Don't do it.

Give what you can - And only what you can. We ask a godawful lot from teens. You're in school all day, you're doing extracurriculars and maybe working and doing homework. You probably don't have a lot of money. You probably don't have a lot of time. But maybe you can bring your elderly neighbor's trash cans up from the street. Find the small actions that you have space for.

Talk about wages - PLEASE! If you have a job, this applies to you even more. Why? Because the adults working at your minimum wage job probably can't afford to be rabble rousers, but what do you have to lose except your shitty part-time Panera job?? A teenager who doesn't actually need their job to live has the opportunity to be the voice of truth in any workplace.

Think about wealthflow Resist indoctrination - Education systems are being gutted. Algorithms are feeding us misinformation. Cocomelon probably gave you ADHD or some shit - Jesus. It's a mess. Do what you can to practice critical thinking, expand your literacy, read stuff that seems boring. Start a book club or philosophy club with your friends. Ask who's profiting from a given situation. Resist knee-jerk reactions. Becoming an educated, thoughtful person is one of the greatest acts of resistance a young person today can engage in.

[seijorhi]

Etched in Red: Ruby (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Hinata Shoyo x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.3k

tw: stalking, yandere themes, implied dub/non-con.

“I… have to go,” Kenma sighs. “Bye, Shoyo.” The last part’s tacked on like an afterthought, his attention already drawn over his shoulder, fixed on something Hinata can’t see. The source, no doubt, of those two loud thumps. 

Hinata doesn’t bother hiding his smile, signing off with a wave. It’s not the first time their video chats have ended this way, he’d wager it won’t be the last. Come to think of it, he had mentioned something about a stray a few weeks back. Maybe…

He shakes himself free of the thought, glancing down at the time on his open laptop and– shit. He’s gonna be late. 

It takes all of fifteen minutes for him to throw on some half decent clothes and bike across town. These days, with the sponsorships and all, he doesn’t have to work so hard, riding over town delivering food all night. 

He doesn’t have to, but he chooses to. 

On Friday nights, at least. Usually around six-thirty. He waits on the sidewalk, flicking through the app, declining, declining, declining, until he spots an all too familiar order. His face lights up. 

Accept. 

Being that he’s already parked out front of the restaurant, it means he’s got a little time to kill, but that’s cool, too. The staff know him by name, share knowing, vaguely amused looks when he pokes a head in to see where everything’s at. 

“Won’t be long, Shoyo,” one of them tells him, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he walks on by. They never actually ask which order he’s there to pick up.

And it’s habit, more than anything else, that has him checking said order when it’s called. Normally, a quick glance is all it needs, but… his smile fades, head tilting a little. There’s too much food. Almost twice the usual. 

The girl at the counter shrugs before he can even ask. “That’s the order we got. Girl’s probably got a friend coming for dinner.” Her eyebrows waggle, telling Hinata exactly what kind of friend she’s thinking of. “Either that or she’s real hungry.”

A wave of unpleasantness creeps under his skin, his insides twisting. He thanks her all the same, quick to bundle the food in the carry case and settle on his bike. By now, he knows the route like the back of his hand, he’s ridden it so often. He could do it blindfolded, in the dark–

… Were you having friends over? 

You don’t usually, not on Fridays. Sometimes you come back to the apartment tipsy and late, but you haven’t ever brought anyone back with you – aside from that one time, with the tall, loud girl who wouldn’t stop trying to drag you into impromptu karaoke. He’s never seen anyone else though. You’re like him, aren’t you? A creature of habit, routine. Six-thirty every Friday, the same order. 

Is it the tall girl again? Another of your girlfriends? 

Someone… else?

That uncomfortable feeling returns. Would it make a difference if it really was just a friend?

Before he knows it, Hinata’s out the front of your apartment, heart thudding away like his chest’s full of lead. Normally, you’re already there on the steps, waiting for him, because he knows you watch the tracking app like a hawk, because that’s what you do. That’s the routine – your routine; six-thirty, Friday night, you and him, on these steps. It’s his.

Hinata doesn’t realise his hands are shaking until he goes to grab your food.

“Shoyo?”

He whirls, expression bright. There you are. Lovely and beautiful in the golden light of dusk, smiling back at him like nothing’s wrong. The sight alone should ease the static beneath his skin, loosen the knots in his stomach, but it doesn’t. His smile feels too tight, his cheeks aching with it. 

Who are you having dinner with?

He doesn’t realise he’s actually spoken the words aloud until you blink at him, offering a somewhat sheepish reply. “Oh, you noticed that, did you?” How could he not? “A friend from back home. She’s staying with me for a few days, and since I apparently never shut up about this place, and it is a Friday night tradition…” you trail off, shrugging easily. “Here we are.”

Right. A friend from back home. Robotically his arm jerks forward, holding out the food for you to take. 

“Thanks for this,” you continue, blissfully unaware of the absolute, chaotic mess currently wreaking havoc inside of him. “It’s kinda weird, right, how you’re always the one picking up the order? They should really just cut out the middleman and hire you on retainer.” You’re joking, of course, the giggle tells him that much, and Hinata forces himself to chuckle along with you. 

“Same time next week, then?”

Do you hear the same faint tinge of desperation he does? He really, really hopes not. 

“You betcha,” you shoot back with a wink that seizes his heart with an invisible fist, already turning to make your way back inside to the warmth of your apartment. To the friend from back home who’s no doubt waiting for you.

From up above, a shadow moves across the window he knows is yours.

Not a date, Hinata reminds himself, just some nameless, faceless girl she used to know. One who’ll be gone soon enough. Back home, away from you. 

Honestly, it should be a relief. 

So why does it feel like his blood’s about to boil? Like the floor just opened up beneath him and everything’s falling apart? Standing on the sidewalk, hands flexed at his sides, his breath comes out in short, choppy pants. 

On wooden legs, he stumbles back to his bike. Kicks a leg over the frame and settles himself down, hands wrapped around the handlebars in a white knuckled grip. And still, he doesn’t move.

He can’t even think over the deafening roar in his head. 

This – Fridays – they’re his. Yours, yes, but his, too. And this girl, she’s… she’s intruding. She doesn’t belong. She shouldn’t be there.

And if she’s up there, what’s to stop others from stealing as well? 

Across the street, there’s a sudden banging noise, and Hinata turns just in time to see a scrawny looking tabby dart through the mouth of an alleyway. A stray.

For a while, longer than he’d probably like to admit, Hinata stares after it, his brain ticking over.

With one last, lingering glance up at your window, he huffs out a sigh and pushes off.

—

One thing Hinata learned during his stint as a delivery driver is that if you buzz the wrong apartment and someone’s home, more often than not they’ll let you in anyway. 

It’s only Wednesday. He’d been good, waited the four agonising nights while your friend took up space in your apartment. But she left today, and Hinata knows you, knows that you’re probably exhausted from having to put up with her, that you don’t have any plans tonight other than curling up on your couch and watching TV. 

You won’t mind him showing up instead, even if he maybe – probably – should’ve waited ‘til Friday. 

The food he’s got isn’t from your favourite restaurant, either, it’s from his, and he’s pretty confident you’re gonna love it. He brought flowers, too. Just in case. 

Excitement thrums through his veins, jittery and bright, and, unable to help himself, he bounces on his toes.

You answer the door wearing pyjama shorts and an worn, faded tee and Hinata beams because you’ve never looked prettier, even when that cute little crinkle scrunches between your eyebrows, “Shoyo, what–”

Right now, he’s supposed to say something charming, or funny, maybe. Something to smooth out the confused expression he doesn’t wanna call a frown. He should be a gentleman – he got the flowers and the food, he even went out and bought the fancy, expensive cologne Heitor recommended because Nice goes nuts for it. 

There was a plan. Or, sort of a plan.

It didn’t involve him dropping the flowers and the food on the floor, lurching forward like a man possessed to haul you into a scorching, life-altering kiss, pushing you back into your apartment and kicking the door shut behind him, but holy shit–

It absolutely should’ve.

[fourstarsoutofnine]

To get away.

Chapter one; out of the woods.

(Player is farore reincarnate au)

Part 2, part 3, part 3.5, part 4

A/n:(in the fashion Of that old disney blue-Ray commercial)here we goooooo! Please lmk what you think. Reader uses she/her pronouns per the poll winnings.

Warnings:feelings of dread. Talk of anxiety.

12:22 am. Swapping through the same four apps, you felt stuck in the dreaded reality you lived in. Sure, your life wasn’t bad by most means, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a looming, general sense of malaise and doom that hung over you like an ugly tapestry of unease. You hated this feeling with everything in you. It made you want to scream and run, despite not knowing what exactly it was you were running from. You supposed that was that old “fight or flight” reaction everyone talked about. You always figured that was reserved for extreme situations like a kidnapping or mugging or that sort of thing, not your usual run of the mill anxiety. Yet, here you sit with your thoughts and music playing in your ears to try to drown them out. And though the effort was valiant, it was no match for the ever-trumping anxiety and need to leave. You went to sleep that night figuring it was just another normal bad night. You prayed to who or whatever would hear for a way out. You had no idea you’d be answered.

You woke to the sun shining in your face and birds chirping awfully loud. It was odd, considering the sun was never this bright in your room and you could never hear the morning birds so clearly before. Then, something blocked the sun from reaching your face. When you opened your eyes and put your hand up to block the remainder of blinding sun from your vision, a boy faded into view. Bright blonde hair, blue shirt with a lobster, and a confused grin.

“You alright, lady???”

“What?” You respond, confused. You knew who this was. You figured it to be a dream.

“I asked if You’re Alright! We found you just laying here!” Who you knew to be the hero of the winds said and helped you sit up.

“No noticeable wounds, so that’s good.” A man knelt by you. His hair was roughly the same color, but a bit lighter. He had strange markings on his face, which you knew to be from the fierce deity mask. This was the hero of time. “Do you remember how you got here?”

“Anything you could tell us will help. Anything at all.” Another said. Pretty boy, tall in stature, slender, and what you thought to be the textbook definition of devilishly handsome. The hero of warriors, no doubt.

“I—uhm—“ you stuttered out dumbfoundedly, trying to process everything. You felt shellshocked and didn’t know what to do.

“Let’s back up away from her, she’s clearly overwhelmed…” a soft voice said, which was all too needed to your anxious ears. The hero of the skies pulled them back and you sighed, resting your elbows on your knees as the ends of your palms dug into your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself from this wild dream. This was crazy. Of course it was a welcome escape, these men were your heroes—a title they knew all too well and some carried like a burden—but they’d helped you in ways they could never know, and ways you could never tell because they weren’t real….so why are they standing in front of you, looking worried? You sighed deeply and opened your eyes. “I don’t know how I wound up here. At all… the last thing I remember is going to bed, and—then I woke up here… that’s it…”

“Strange… but oddly enough, not the strangest we’ve been through.” The hero of time helped you to your feet. “Well; looks like you’re along for the ride, stranger. What’s your name?”

“Y/n…”

“Y/n. Well, you’ll be safe with us. We’ve got ground to cover, so we should get back on track.” He led you back to the path. You were met with the sight of the other heroes of hyrule. They, however, were met with a sight that looked more like doe-eyed fear. Innocent and frightened.

The hero of twilight offered kind a kind and welcomed you into the group; as did the hero of wild, and hyrule. The hero of warriors looked at you with a smile, but it was easy to tell he was more trying to gauge your character. He was a captain, and knew all too well from the hero of the wild that often traitors to the crown disguise themselves as innocent travelers down on their luck. When he saw no sign of that he was quick to welcome you and check to see if you were alright. This, of course, left only the veteran and smith. The smith was kind, but a bit cautious of you. The veteran was cautious and indifferent. According to your story, it seemed like someone just picked you up at night and dropped you off here, which was a little sketchy if you asked him. Also filed under odd and sketchy was the marking over your hand. The triforce.

“Old man.” The veteran called. “I gotta talk to you.”

The old man looked at you, a silent ask if you were alright. Upon your offer of a nervous smile, he nodded and smiled back, walking over. You turned back to your quiet conversation between yourself, the traveler and the champion. They were asking you plenty questions on how you wound up asleep in the forest, each of which gave you no room to answer before another one arose.

“The mark on her hand.” The veteran pointed out.

“I noticed it too.”

“Is she a Zelda? She’s clearly not a Link. Not to mention, the mark is on her right and not her left hand.”

“Precisely. I don’t think she’s a Zelda, but there is something odd about this.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for anything off about it. It’d be good to tell the captain, too. He’s observant.”

“Right. I suppose we’ll talk again once we make camp tonight.” He nodded and went to the head of the group, saying something to the captain that you couldn’t hear, and waving a hand in the air that signaled the group to continue moving. This would be an interesting adventure, you determined. You couldn’t wait to see where it leads.

[sgiandubh]

Tools of the trade

Came home an hour ago from a reception I literally fled (busy week in this respect, unfortunately). And I kept being internally nagged during the short taxi ride, by what is probably at least this season's Anon. Landed in @bat-cat-reader's inbox with regard to Marple's most recent innuendo:

I had to know more about this, since I had no idea such deep diving tools were now available for pretty much everyone. Here's the gist of how it works, in pics and a quick review:

What Snoopreport promises its subscribers is to basically keep them posted on the targeted accounts' online behavior patterns...

... without the need to publicly follow them on Insta (sounds familiar?)...

...leaving no trace (zero accountability, because it uses only public data: this can be interpreted differently, in a different legal system/context, since several European countries, as I already discussed, have more protective legal provisions for a person's right to his/her own image)...

... at minimal costs (I suppose the most cost-effective, if we assume this is one of the used monitoring tools, would be the small business pack, allowing the super sleuth to track 10 different accounts, for peanuts):

A review of this product I have checked here (https://www.techuntold.com/snoopreport-review/) points out the obvious Achilles' heel of this app. Snoopreport obviously does not work for private accounts:

Which brings up a logical question: could the (in)famous 'resource' be S's private Insta account, in which case it would be very difficult for the sleuth to admit stalking it? Is it even technically possible to stalk a private Instagram account and remain unseen?

The answer to the latter is yes: other actors of this apparently very lucrative market, such as Glassagram (https://glassagram.com/), do not have Snoopreport's scruples and monitor even private accounts.

I think this is pretty self-explanatory and to be honest, it gave me the chills:

Serious reviews (https://www.techuntold.com/glassagram-review-spy-instagram/) are raving about this one, calling it the best app on the market, mainly because you can save all the snooped content on your own device:

... and the price, for stalking (their own choice of vocabulary, not mine, for once) an unlimited number of accounts is reasonable:

Best of it? They've been around since 2017.

In a nutshell: is it legal? it would seem so, in the US, not so sure about the UK/EU. Is it moral? It's up to you to decide what to think of a firm which has no problem admitting to encouraging stalking (but hey, don't listen to the nutcase here, huh?) and uses completely different real-life situations (infidelity, kids' monitoring) to assert its legitimacy and utility.

What I mean by this very long and illustrative post is this: you do not need inside sources/information to have one day the idea of crossing what is obviously (at least in my book) a red line. You just have to be able (lots of free time), willing (asserting power over a very thirsty and not so digitally skilled audience) and voilà: a Super Sleuth is born.

It is one thing to analyze and speculate, based on open sources, to your heart's content. It is a different affair altogether to obsessively monitor someone, with so much detail and personal (& financial) investment, over a substantial period of time. I will die on this hill and you will never change my mind on this one.

Is the emperor naked? I wouldn't venture speculating. What I do know, is that this emperor is a very, very sad one.

[therapeutic007]

🌌 Schizoid Personality Disorder: Finding Comfort in Solitude Life with SPD often means cherishing your inner world more than social interaction, and that’s okay. You’re not “cold” or “distant”—you just thrive in ways that many people don’t understand. Your ability to reflect deeply, create meaning in solitude, and maintain boundaries is a strength, even if it feels misunderstood.

💡 Tip: Build a routine that prioritizes your needs and respects your love for space while gently exploring ways to connect on your terms.

☀️ Schizoaffective Disorder: Balancing Mood and Mind Living with schizoaffective disorder can feel like riding emotional and mental rollercoasters at the same time. Whether it’s mood episodes, hallucinations, or racing thoughts, your journey is one of navigating two worlds at once. But that makes your insight, empathy, and depth truly special.

💡 Tip: Mood tracking apps, grounding exercises, and a strong support network can help bring balance. And don’t forget—rest is just as important as action.

🌿 Schizotypal Personality Disorder: Dancing Between Worlds STPD is all about living in a world that’s a little more magical, mysterious, and connected in ways others might not see. Your unique perspective and creativity are gifts, even if socializing feels tricky at times. Those quirks and deep thoughts? They’re what make you unforgettable.

💡 Tip: Find creative outlets (art, writing, music) to channel your imagination and build connections with people who appreciate your authenticity.

💛 Common Threads While each condition is distinct, there are some shared experiences worth celebrating:

A profound ability to think deeply and see the world differently. 🌌

Resilience in navigating a society that doesn’t always “get it.” 🌱

Unique perspectives that enrich the lives of those who take the time to understand. 🌈

💬 Remember: You’re more than any label. Whether you’re someone who loves solitude, feels deeply, or sees the world in vibrant layers, your experiences are valid, your strengths are real, and you are not alone. 💙

Sending so much love to everyone out there navigating the “schizo-” spectrum. 🌟 You’re doing amazing, even if it doesn’t always feel that ________

Recovery Workbooks :

Schizoid Personality Disorder

Schizoaffective Bipolar Type

Schizoaffective Depressive Type

[the-alan-price-combo]

Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon)

All Sections | Supporting One Another (1965-1968)

“[Eric] was one of the biggest influences on my music career, and gave me a tremendous insight into blues music.” - Alan Price, Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon).

It happened. It had to happen.

From March 12th to March 17th, 2024, @/tealightwhimsy (who I will be referring to as Tealight), my mother, and I all traveled to London, England. This was my first time ever on an airplane, ever getting a passport, ever traveling out of the country, and ever in a city bigger than Detroit - saving up every cent myself in order to make the journey. And before you think I only made this trip to have my own「Domino's App feat. Hatsune Miku」 moment… I promise I didn’t, haha. I made this trip to see Alan Price, yes, the real Alan Price with my own eyes! He performs in Barnes every second Thursday of the month, always delighted to play these small concerts to this day, and I wanted nothing more than to show my support and appreciation for that.

However, since we would quite literally be in the neighborhood, I thought to myself… Why not see if we can watch a very particular episode of Alan’s 1968 television series at the British Film Institute in Soho while there? It was entirely possible to do so, after all! The journey getting to this point was a bit of a complicated one -  and I’m not just talking about the eight-hour-long plane ride - but it was incredibly worth it for the rich, detailed, and affectionate footage Tealight and I bore witness to. Alan Price and Eric Burdon… on screen together… having fun…

The Price of Possibility -

So, my first exposure to the international treasure that is Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) was in February of 2021, in a Discord group with a couple of Animals friends and I. One of those friends had randomly sent an image of that Music Echo/Disc Weekly photo (featured at the beginning of this section), plus the caption, that I eventually found out was from August 3rd, 1968. By eventually, I mean over a year later, when Tealight had discovered that huge archive of British magazines and I found the Music Echo issue it came from. However, at the time, my mind was absolutely blown. To contextualize things even further, this was still during my satirical “Alan and Eric were acting like petty divorcees in their 20s, lmao” phase, so outside of a few of those super affectionate Animals photos I had seen up until that point (the Pepsi-Cola bottle photoshoot, the photo of Alan holding Eric’s hand, etc.), this was my first time seeing a pleasant, non-antagonistically skewed representation of the pair, with a nice caption to boot. I started to put the pieces together… Eric flew over to “especially to appear on Alan’s new TV series ‘Price To Play”? You had “a great loon”? You guys did “What’d I Say”?!?

It goes without saying that this very much changed my perspective, even if just a little at the time. And I was eager to find this episode, if at all possible.

Doing a bit of quick, preliminary research at this time - again, in early-2021 - didn’t exactly come up with much, only some vague IMDb listings about the episodes and an old forum talking about the episode. I assumed that Price to Play, in its entirety, was just lost media, which was disappointing, but not surprising. Most televised footage from that period was filmed and scrapped like clockwork, with old film being quickly erased after airing in order to be reused. Even the incredible, culturally impactful Ready, Steady, Go! wasn’t safe from this practice, despite the star power behind it. Most recordings were archived thanks to eager fans manually saving the footage to tapes, opposed to studios themselves keeping track of the footage. Alan’s show undoubtedly suffered the same fate, and I had made peace with that - even after confirming the context behind it via the full Music Echo article.

That was until Ray Davies turned everything on its head.

You see, on August 5th, 2022, the BBC Archive’s Facebook page decided to post a random little clip from Price to Play: August 5th, 1968 (with guest star Ray Davies) (from the Kinks). Out of context, it’s just a generally fun clip, watching these two semi-awkward introverts talk about songwriting with one another. Especially funny considering that six years later, on a show called The Midnight Special, Ray Davies would host the June 7th episode (with guest star Alan Price). But I digress; what the BBC Archive thought was just an innocent, celebratory collaboration video they were posting completely blew the mind of a mentally ill lesbian who just woke up one Saturday morning and needed a Dr Pepper.

This… revealed a lot of things to me (Alan’s impeccable late-1968 style of dress, for one), but chief among them was the fact that Price to Play, in some form, was safe, archived, and stored somewhere in the BBC’s vast vaults of chaos. I should also mention that this was around the time I initially finished the bulk of this essay - a couple of months before posting it, in fact, just working on the revision stages. I hesitated to include information about the BBC Archive’s post as not to get anyone’s hopes up… but I certainly got my own hopes up. I didn’t know what to do with this information quite yet, but it was encouraging to know something was out there.

Then, four .gif files changed everything. AGAIN.

On January 3rd, 2023, I was scrolling through the desolate, yet familiar-to-me, depths of Animals tumblr when I came across a .gif set of Eric performing that I hadn’t seen before. It was posted by a user named @/sonand-daughter-1974, who has sadly deactivated since then, but I had reblogged these gifs before they did so. And that first .gif I saw completely threw me, because my eyes were immediately drawn to the keyboardist in the background who did an overly-dramatic hair-flip as he played. An overly-dramatic hair-flip I’ve seen many, many times before… Not to mention, the stage and set Eric was standing on reminded me of the set where Alan and Ray had been chatting in that clip the BBC Archive posted.

The full .gif set!

…Wait… WAIT.

Was this footage of Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon)?!? I messaged Tealight immediately. 

Honestly, this was a dumb question to ask, even if rhetorically, because quite obviously, it was. Eric and Alan are wearing the same shirts as the Music Echo photo, the set is the same as the Ray Davies clip… yes, this was indeed what I was looking for. Just to confirm things further, I replied to the post, asking the blogger about the context. Their replies are now gone due to being deactivated, but I remember them saying something along the lines of there being a clip of what they thought was Eric performing “What’s I Say” on the BBC Archive’s YouTube channel back in 2015.

…Well, there it is. I guess it was just the pure adrenaline coursing through my veins, dampening any shyness, but I ended up spontaneously emailing the BBC Archive’s official email account at 11:53 pm with a request for information about Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) - just wanting to know if the footage was being archived, both the (with guest star Eric Burdon) episode and the others. To which I promptly got an email back the next day saying that they, indeed, had access to all of the episodes, even sending me a handy link to the British Film Institute’s online database! As it turned out, the August 12th episode was indeed featured there, right in the archive! Only accessible via VHS, but STILL! IT WAS THERE!

I ended up talking to someone at the British Film Institute at this time, as well, but with the episode only available via VHS, and thus only allowed to be digitized following a booked research viewing, I was at a temporary dead end. Not a distressing one, of course, as it honestly just meant a lot to know that the footage still existed at all. But I had reached the end of my actual search, with only the hope of the BBC Archive’s social media team potentially digitizing clips to post on one of their accounts. Why those other clips were removed off of YouTube, I have no idea… which implies something was digitized at some point, but I digress.

Anyway, at this point, Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) had settled comfortingly in my brain, always as a possibility to emerge yet again, either through more lost tumblr gifs or a surprise clip on Facebook one Saturday morning. That was until the idea of traveling to London to see Alan was beginning to come to fruition… plane tickets and all, and we realized this would actually be possible to do, if I set up an appointment with the BFI. Their viewing center was in Soho, not terribly far from where we would be staying in Chiswick - right down the street from the tube station, in fact! All I had to do was pay a small booking fee and fill out an online research viewing form for Tealight and I, where I had to cite this very essay as the “non-commercial” research I would be using the footage for. Yes, this long, meandering essay about Alan Price and Eric Burdon’s relationship got me into a prestigious British film archive to watch some of the footage they’ve stockpiled… and I’m proud of that fact.

With all of that being said… March 14th, 2024. We would actually watch Alan Price himself perform right in front of our eyes later that evening… but first, we made a special stop in Soho to see a different type of performance, on the -1 floor of the British Film Institute. For research.

Let’s talk about it now.

Pure, Unadulterated Enjoyment and Affection -

Finally using the three pages of notes I hastily scribbled down in a corgi-themed notebook during the hour of viewing time we were allowed… Also, I should mention: the lady who took us to our viewing room was actually the one I had corresponded with for a year up until that point, which was really neat! She was incredibly nice to us, and never questioned why us silly Americans were going out of our way to watch such a niche piece of television… but I guess the citing of my essay on my booking form said it all, haha.

Alright, the moment you all have been waiting for: the episode proper. Prior to this, Tealight and I had no idea what the structure of this episode was going to be like, all we had was the context of the Ray Davies clip, the fact Alan was going to talk about music history, and that Alan and Eric were going to do “The Story of Bo Diddley”, “Don’t Stop The Carnival”, and “What’d I Say” at some point. That just made the anticipation rapidly evolve into pure excitement…

At the beginning of the episode, a sketch of Alan Price appeared on the screen. I audibly asked who drew it, to which Tealight replied, “Eric.” This cannot be confirmed, but it’s the right answer. He is an artist, after all.

The episode starts off with Alan and the Alan Price Set (on the verge of becoming the Paul Williams Set, if not already), doing a performance of “Loving You Is Sweeter Than Ever”. This song was originally covered by the Four Tops, with Alan later covering it for his first album, The Price to Play, and it’s certainly an… interesting choice, for an opener. With a later explanation following the performance, it was primarily chosen due to being a Motown piece, but the lyrical choice and contents also gel extremely well with the surrounding context of a “long-time coming” reunion between these two musical giants; one of them desperate to work with the other again in some form.

Following this first song, Alan talks about the general theme of the following episode: rhythm and beat in pop music, and their Spanish and African influence. He directly mentions Motown, “short for motor town”, and its respective groups, which I found very charming, as a metro-Detroit resident myself. Alan then proceeds to talk about the Old World discovery of the Americas, and the slavery/systematic racism that was enabled by said discovery. Which, while blunt, definitely deserves to be talked about in a candid, straightforward manner, even if by a white guy. It’s no secret that, if you want to be really particular about things, the Animals and other British/non-black R&B groups are technically “appropriating” black music, however respectful they are. “Appropriation” in its more neutral definition, opposed to outright negative, as they still put their own spin on the style, practically worshiped the original artists, and were highly enjoyed by black audiences… but still appropriation. However, Alan shedding light on the history is a great thing to see, especially since this program he hosted was intended for younger audiences: shedding light on specific musical styles an audience might not know the details about. He does the subject justice, even if he uses a bit of “it was okay 60 years ago, but not really now” terms.

Alan talks a bit about the history and rhythm style of “chain gangs”, before going into his own rendition of “Work Song”, which is an absolute treat to hear him perform. The Animals covered “Work Song” themselves (a stellar performance of it was featured on The Ed Sullivan Show in October of 1965, and eventually released on some reissues of Animalisms), and I’m also familiar with Georgie Fame’s version, so hearing also Alan perform it with a jazzy touch was a nice surprise.

After this, Alan talks about the brass bands that arose in the United States following the Civil War, due to the ease of access of these instruments to the black population. The brass Set members then do a stripped-back version of “When the Saints Go Marching In”, before Alan joins in for a cover of “Watermelon Man”. A performance that surprised my mom when I told her about it after the fact, since she actually played that song in a jazz band when she was in high school!

Then, the segue to end all segues occurs, with Alan talking about the introduction of string instruments to the Americas via the Spaniards, and the adoption of guitars by black musicians, turning it into a beat instrument instead of a purely melodic one, backing up the singer. It’s here that Alan mentions Bo Diddley, and the Newcastle Art College student that introduced Alan to his music… in which Tealight and I proceed to implode in on ourselves.

“...and one of the people who I listened to as a young player was an American blues guitarist called Bo Diddley. I first heard of Bo Diddley from a friend with whom I played in the early days, when he was at art college and I was working in a tax office. And his name is Eric Burdon.”

The footage then cuts to Eric, now standing in the center of the stage amidst the Set. He glances around a little, before (quite obviously) locking eyes with Alan, smiling when he does so.

“He was one of the biggest influences on my music career, and gave me a tremendous insight into blues music.”

While Alan’s speaking here, the footage is still focused on Eric. However, when Alan says “...gave me a tremendous insight…”, that’s when Eric turns to smile at him, and you can actually hear Alan smile in his voice as he speaks!! Yes, you’re going to hear me talk about the subtle inflections of Alan’s voice in this analysis, because that’s what you do when your favorite musical relationship in classic rock has a collective 75 minutes of footage in circulation featuring them.

“In my hometown of Newcastle, he was wholly responsible for the popularity of rhythm and blues, and with himself, I started a blues band which came to be known as the Animals.”

Now, the footage cuts to a photo from The Pepsi-Cola Photoshoot… a new photo we had never seen before! If you want a brief refresher on what The Pepsi-Cola Photoshoot is, it’s the photoshoot from July 4th of 1964, when “Rising Sun” was on track to top the charts, the Animals celebrating with a refreshing glass of… well, Pepsi-Cola. Such iconic images as “Alan looking up at Eric”, and “Eric nearly holding Alan’s face” and “Alan with his knee on Eric’s thigh” come from this series of photos, with this outtake resembling the latter photo. It’s at a bit of a higher angle… and you can see just how tucked against Eric that Alan is because of it.

I have this on a shirt...

Anyway, this photo hangs on the screen for the rest of Alan’s little speech, slowly zooming in on the pair.

“Bo Diddley was one of our heroes. And it was like a dream came true when one night, in Newcastle, we had the pleasure of meeting Bo, and one of his band played with us.

“And on the first LP that the Animals made, we had a song which told of this great event for us. Eric Burdon wrote it, and he called the song ‘The Story of Bo Diddley’.”

The dramatic zoom-in on the photo then quickens, before Alan starts out with those cutting opening notes of “The Story of Bo Diddley. If you haven’t heard it before, here’s a link! It’s a great homage to both Bo Diddley himself, “and the rock & roll scene in general” - with so many fun lyrical references and a general cadence that makes Eric seem like he’s improvising the lyrics, on both the album version and this live rendition - which isn’t too far from the truth.

Alright, now… we’re at the main event. Alan Price and Eric Burdon, performing together again. And it’s just as magical as you can imagine. Even with as straightforward of a rhythm as that initial “Bo Diddley” riff, you can really hear the way in which Alan adds little flourishes to further embellish Eric’s voice. Not to mention, it’s just interesting to hear Eric’s “New Animals” voice singing Original Animals’ tunes… like all of Eric’s performances, he never does things exactly like the album, which just makes particular live renditions all the more special.

At the 16:12 mark, the mystery was officially solved. This was where that previous .gif set was from, featuring Alan doing the hair flip and Eric clapping out Johnny Otis’ “Hand Jive”. It was from “The Story of Bo Diddley”! BBC Archive, please put this back on your YouTube channel! PLEASE.

And, just like the album version, we receive a duet…

Eric:

“In a little old country town one day

“A little old country band began to play

“It had two guitars and a beat up saxophone

“When the drummer let go, those cats begin to roam”

Eric and Alan together:

“Oooh we oh oh

Ooh la la that rock and roll

Ya hear me oooh we oh oh

Oooh la la that rock and roll”

Now, while on the album version, it sounds like Eric’s voice being layered, super keen-eared Price-Burdon fanatics might recognize that harmony from the 1982 Newcastle City Hall performance they did together. They didn’t do the entirety of “The Story of Bo Diddley” during this concert, mind you, just this little section, but the ease with which they did it suggested quite a bit of familiarity. And here they are, doing just that! During this entire duet, Alan is staring right at him as he plays, smiling as he sings, and Eric is turned towards him.

That’s not the only duet that hit us like a truck! During the “Hard Day’s Night” section of the song, Alan also duets with Eric! …Gosh, you two… just because they couldn’t be Lennon-McCartney as songwriters, their musical dynamic is still something wholly unique to them. No duet during the “I Wanna Be Your Man” bit (makes sense 👀), but Eric does begin the section with, “Way down in the deep south, way down in Richmond-Surrey… A pair of lips, a pair of hips, belonging to Mick Jagger…” which makes Alan vocally laugh! A little “heh..” and all!! If you’ve seen my Alan Price Laughing Compilation (pinned post on @hide-your-bugs-away), then you know Alan’s laughs are a wonderful thing. ERIC MADE HIM LAUGH!!!!

Of course, this all leads to the climax of the song, with the actual “Bo Diddley” call-and-response, which Alan and Eric leap at the opportunity to do. Mimicking one another’s vocal inflections, glancing at one another as they do so… my jaw hit the floor when I saw all of this. When the song ended, Eric gave a relieved little “Wooo!”, to which Alan responded with another smile-in-his-voice “heh..” Alan, please………..

“I think that because Eric has played such an important part in my musical approach, it’s only right that he should continue with us for the rest of the program.”

Now that Alan’s finally got Eric performing on stage with him and the Set after all these years, he isn’t going to let him slip away that easily…

Alan then talks about the music that emerged from the West Indies, following this explanation with a performance of “Don’t Stop The Carnival”. Which, yes, Eric indeed does duet with him on! Only the chorus, and as backing vocals, but like the “Before We Were So Rudely Interrupted” outtakes, it’s just interesting seeing him perform a song that Alan is so heavily associated with!

Now, for the part that blew the fragments of our minds to atomic particles.

“In our part of the world, that’s where Eric and I come from - the Northeast - the singer is called a ‘chanter’. And now it so happens that one of the really important things for the blues, or, in fact, any kind of rhythmic song, is you’ve got to bring it to a climax. And the best and most effective way to organize a chant is to have a lead singer singing any sort of phrase. For example…"

Alan then turns to Eric, a huge smile on his face. “Do you feel allllllright?”

Eric shrugs, with his own coy smile framing his face. “...I feel… fine?”

“Are you sure you feel… fine?” Alan responds.

“I feel.. I..I feel alright!” Eric nearly collapses into laughter, and when the camera cuts back to Alan, he’s trying to hide his smile with a covert brush to his nose.

A little artwork depicting this exchange! They weren't standing next to each other, but I can still imagine it...

Yes, Alan and Eric shared banter with one another, right there on camera. I know this might seem like small potatoes for folks whose favorite musicians and songwriting duos have tons of readily accessible videos and interviews available of them, but as I said before, Alan and Eric barely have any, so this little bit of footage means the absolute world to us. Confirming the fact that, yes these two have a legitimate good time together, even independent of actively performing. They know how to joke, affectionately push one another’s buttons, and have a laugh. This is just so validating when the common consensus of Animals fans seems to be that these two despised each other and never got along. I respectfully disagree.

“This call-and-answer routine is the perfect way to achieve this simper. Perhaps the greatest favorite of Eric and meself  is Ray Charles. And he’s an American blues singer whose recording of ‘What’d I Say’ has become the most classic for rhythm and blues. And it’s only right, and fitting, that we should close with this number. See you next week.”

Here it is… here it is. The whole Ray Charles. Honestly, it’s still incredibly hard to gather my thoughts on the performance of “What’s I Say” here, even eight months later. It’s kind-of like my difficulties describing why the Golden Trifecta of Animals Songs (“How You’ve Changed”, “I Believe To My Soul” and “Worried Life Blues”) are so great because they just… blend so well with their instrumental and musical styles. Made all the more difficult that this is pure, unfiltered, unmitigated, uninterrupted Price-Burdon content. Playing the song that literally brought Eric to the church hall where Alan was playing ten years previously.

I think now is as good of a time as any to do a deep dive into Alan and Eric’s body language and emotions when they perform throughout this episode, with “What’d I Say” serving as the perfect demonstration of this. Since “The Story of Bo Diddley” was mostly Eric’s vocals, and “Don’t Stop the Carnival” was mostly Alan’s, this particular song finally depicts, in both a vocal and a visual sense, more of a balance between them. They trade verses with one another, with one adding little audible noises in the background as the other sings the actual lyrics. And if you’re familiar with the original song and wondering… Yes, they do the call-and-response moaning bit. Twice. 😐 Alan also does his backwards-back-arch-while-shaking-his-head-to-get-hair-out-of-his-face-thing when Eric starts singing, so do with that information what you will.

I’ve mentioned this a handful of times now, but the most obvious indicator of the pure joy they feel while performing together (besides the quality of the music, of course) is Alan’s expressions. Oh, Alan’s letting a lot go here. I won’t show any of the covert pictures that Tealight took of our computer screen, out of respect for the archiving services… but when we showed my mom a couple of the pictures after the fact, she audibly said that she had never seen Alan look that happy before. Like, legitimately, he had the biggest smile that you could possibly imagine, all dimples and smile lines around his eyes and… agGhgh. Alan’s eyes are a give-away as well; you see, Alan usually doesn’t like playing with his eyes open. Much like his musical inspiration in Ray Charles, Alan prefers to purely play by feel. Not to mention, playing on the stage and in front of others makes him quite anxious, so closing his eyes just helps him calm down and lose himself in the music.

“Basically, I dislike being on stage. I don’t like performing in front of people. I used to be very shy. I still am. I still close my eyes and ignore the audience. Which looks like bad taste sometimes - as though I’m disinterested - but really, I’m embarrassed. I often get the horrors sitting in the dressing room. Sometimes in the middle of a number I shut my mind off and think, ‘Just what am I doing here?’” - Alan Price, Music Maker, July 1967.

So, yeah, this is a guy who's prone to panic attacks backstage and frequently, if not always, dissociates while performing in order to not have a panic attack in front of a live audience. Which just makes those moments where he does open his eyes while performing, to communicate with his band members, all the more meaningful. Not to mention, what it means when he smiles as he does so… He’s actually relaxed, in other words. Enjoying himself… and not having a panic attack. The fact that he’s doing this while sharing the stage with Eric speaks volumes, and it’s not a one-time occurrence either - he does it during the New Musical Experience Poll Winners Concert from 1965 as well, among other performances.

Playing around with a more detailed, painterly style to use on occasion... and depicting the smiles. THIS IS HOW THEY WERE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER, I'M NOT KIDDING.

These elated emotions aren’t exclusive to Alan, of course, as Eric is also all smiles throughout the episode as well, especially that last song. Frequently turning his head to glance at Alan, which is thankfully a little easier than usual, as Alan’s not positioned behind him like he usually is. Alan’s beside him, allowing the camera to actually catch moments where they’re both on screen, looking at one another. And Connie proceeds to throw a handful of confetti in the air.

The episode then ends on the finishing notes of “What’d I Say”, with Tealight and I in complete awe, five minutes left to spare before our allotted booking time was up. And, less than seven hours to spare until we met The Actual Alan Price later that evening, but that’s a story for another day…

Meaningful Satisfaction: There’s More to Come -

Like every facet of this passion-project-turned-essay of mine, I did this for the sake of the positivity present in the Animals’ general dynamic as much as I did this for myself. I wanted to satiate my own (and Tealight’s) burning curiosity, of course, after years of knowing that something Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon)-related was out there. However, beyond receiving that vindication I had anticipated, I wanted the world to know just how much these two got along and enjoyed one another. Previously, if you wanted to be extra uncharitable, you can look at that Music Echo caption and assume Eric was dragged there primarily against his will, or was only roped in via money. We only had Alan’s excitable side of the story, of course. But now, I’ve seen the results of this collaboration with my very eyes. Like the affectionate sleevenote Eric wrote, those quality sounds, that dynamic, the passion on display between them and for the music… it can’t be forced. It has to come from two individuals that wanted this, and wanted this to work. It’s no surprise that when this collaboration happened, it was when Jefferies was finally out of the picture for the New Animals. Nothing was forced; everything was natural.

This footage was, honest-to-goodness, incredible to witness. It’s the two of them, in the 60s, having an absolute ball together like it’s still 1959 and they were just beginning to learn about one another. I absolutely love that 1982 concert of theirs as well, which is also just the two of them, but the affection is nearly stifled by the undercurrent of what was to come in ‘83. It doesn’t at all ruin the experience, of course - I mean, they literally hug and it looks like Eric kisses Alan on the shoulder at the end - but again, the cynics can point at the time period and dismiss it on that basis alone. With this performance in 1968, though, it establishes the fact that their relationship is so much more than anyone seems to give them credit for back in the 60s.

If I may be a cynic myself for a moment: besides the general narrative about the Animals that seems to be perpetuated nowadays via hearsay, I think the bias against purely written materials with no visual reference whatsoever, be it through images or video, is one of the reasons why these positive aspects of their history are so frequently glossed over. There’s the fact that most people aren’t actively seeking out these obscure, 60-year-old sources when they’re learning about the band, of course, but it’s also a bit… disheartening that the main biographies/documentaries published/released about the Animals and Eric don’t even try to dig them up or reference them, instead relying purely on all of the band members’ bitter, present-day accounts. And that’s not to say these vintage articles aren’t written with any sort-of bias in mind themselves - they’re meant to be sensationalized, after all - but as I mentioned before, you can’t fake the intent behind the things that happened between Alan and Eric, mentioned in these articles. However, this 1968 footage of Alan and Eric performing together, completely independent of the Animals, and having a good time doing so, finally provides a clear, visual reference of their relationship, entirely on display. No more having to assume articles are written with toxic positivity in mind; absolutely no room for nuance. Price-Burdon had a spark between them.

Something I find charming in retrospect about Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) is the fact that Alan never actually interviewed Eric, like he did with Ray Davies. This was probably because the episode was more a history lesson, if anything, with Eric as a relevant guest cameo, but I really don’t think an interview or co-hosting was necessary. It’s all information that Alan can easily relay himself… and it’s information that he learned from Eric. Eric taught him about the blues, the styles, the artists, the feeling… and now, he gets to sit back and listen to Alan teach an entire audience of eager listeners, of all ages, everything he taught Alan. I just think that’s very neat… “full-circle”, and all.

I also like their outfits in this. “Eric has pinstripe pants”- the last note I wrote. 😐

Anyway, 5500 words later, I should probably wrap this up, haha. I’ll probably only ever do full-section updates like this when big discoveries like this are uncovered, like if those Ready Steady Go! episodes ever resurface, or that cinéma vérité documentary about the Animals is ever released (I’d probably write a separate analysis for that), or something major along those lines. Tealight and I are considering traveling to London again to see Alan, and if we do, I’d definitely want to try and watch the other episodes of Price to Play and write an analysis of those, too. I truly love and appreciate Alan to pieces (no hetero) so just seeing this previously “locked” content and being able to share it with other Alan and Animals fans would be incredibly meaningful for me!

Also, if any clips from Price to Play: August 12th, 1968 (with guest star Eric Burdon) are ever released online, I’ll definitely add supplementary visuals, whether through images, gifs, or actual video, to this section. I’m just using my art and other reference images at the moment - again, out of respect for the Archive and the work they’ve done preserving and digitizing this for us. Holding out for the possibility that Price to Play becomes available on streaming sometime…

Alright… time for a Dr Pepper and to draw more funny Animals art… Alan and Eric art… wAHHHH!!

All Sections | Supporting One Another (1965-1968)

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[celeluwhenfics]

hihi I don’t know if you’ve ever talked about this before and I missed it but here are a few things for you to rant more on pHORSEsuasion as there cannot be too much of it for us to delight.

How was the story and character of Rowena born? Like, if you could remember and retell, the moment you first realised to yourself that you would be writing her in the fashion of Austen? Was it a very long journey that slowly took shape, or an idea that hit you square on the head?

Is there a set time and location you have to write the fic out? Anything from real life that inspires you and you take inspiration from? I think I remember you loving horses (in a club?) and that sparked the love for Rohan? …or is it an anecdote of one of the many Rohan buddies on tumblr….😭

Is there a playlist, specifically, you’d have for the story?? A pinterest board perhaps? 👀 anything about pHORSEsuasion please

On a scale of 1-5 how much would you say the ideas and thoughts relating to the fic occupy your mind throughout the day?

thank you in advance if you ever get around to answering and talking more about this beautiful fic <333 i also read the short about “the creek game” which is utterly amazing.

don’t you worry overmuch about taking your time to work your best on the chapters! even in these intervals your nice story occupies my mind frequently just to think of Bréda

Hi! Thank you so much for your ask! It makes me happy and giddy that someone is still thinking of pHORSE (and dear Bréda! ❤️) even as chapter 2 is taking a long, long time to come out. I've been hard at work on it. It is coming SOON!

It's exactly as you say: the idea hit me square in the head. I hadn't interacted with LotR in a decade, didn't know AO3 or fandom communities existed. I watched the movies with my partner one weekend, and as I tried to fall asleep that Sunday night, the idea of Éomer as Captain Wentworth sprang all formed in my head. And when that horrible pun found me as well, I knew I was onto something. 😅 The next day I wrote the outline, and in its broad lines it hasn't changed since, it only got more refined and detailed as I reacquainted myself with canon!

I am a horse girl! But I don't ride anymore for various reasons. Not much of the story is related to my real life, although every natural landscape, historical tidbit or little everyday situation can inspire me. (Oh yeah and I almost forgot to mention, but last month I went to Bath to see the original setting of Persuasion for myself...) I mostly write at home on the weekends, but I also have written LOTS of thoughts and ideas on the Notes app on my phone, either on the bus, at work, on runs... I've also been known to stop in my tracks in a grocery aisle or step off my bike to note down an idea or a line of dialogue!

I always write in complete silence (and I don't have pinterest), but in a past life I studied musicology with a speciality in early music, therefore YES, there will be some very specific musical references, which I will share on this blog of course! I've done a post on the two songs mentioned in chapter 1. There won't be any music in chapters 2 and 3, as it's a very bleak time in the story and silence takes a lot of room, so to say. (But I have a Borodred one-shot WIP that I don't know how to wrap up, that is very musical, you might see it one day!)

*nervous laughter* I would say it varies between 2 and 5. It's been months, and every day it's somewhere in my mind. Which is not always convenient, because I have a PhD to do!!! And at some point since my brain wanted to think about it 12 hours a day no matter what, I lost a lot of sleep over it. I had to find a better balance, because sleep is important, and once again, I have a PhD to do, on a subject I'm very passionate about!!! But, yeah, if I could write all day every day and churn out chapter after chapter for my lovely readers, I would!

Thank you SO MUCH for your ask, I'm always super excited to talk about pHORSE! Even if there has been no recent update, the project is very much alive, I'm working tirelessly on it and thinking about it all the time. Don't hesitate if you have more questions! And stay tuned!!! 👀