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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

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Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool.

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike.

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list.

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint.

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it.

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #birch #fully completely #series #sequel #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #thor #mcu #marvel #au #biker!au #biker au #biker boys of birch #bucky barnes #korg

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itsblosseybitch · 4 years

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Well Dunne by Fred Schruers (from Rolling Stone magazine, November 7th, 1985)

The star of ‘After Hours’ knows how to produce a lot of laughs

The day Warner Bros. previewed After Hours at its Burbank, California, studio for a randomly selected public - “People who may have been coming out of Wendy’s on La Cinega” is how Griffin Dunne puts it - leading man Dunne and his co-producer, Amy Robinson, joined a line of cars stop-and-going through the gates to the studio. As he tells about it now, a month later, he mimes the part of a power-buzzed security man clutching a walkie-talkie: “Get these people out of there...Can’t let the audience see you, sir...We’re at Building C, walking the producer and the star over now...”

They hid Griffin in the projection booth till the lights went down. Then he sneaked in and listened. Very happily. “They laughed. Went crazy. You couldn’t hear the dialogue.”

A lot of his best lines got lost in the hubbub then, no? Dunne lets his swivel chair rock down from a perilous two-legged tilt and gives the serious, almost beady-eyed take meant to remind you what an alarmingly hostile world we live in: “Let that be the most serious of my problems.”

In fact, Dunne has hardly any problems just now that stand much chance of knocking him from the embrace of the bitch goddess Success. Costing roughly $4 million and described by director Martin Scorsese as “an experimental, psychological farce,” After Hours took only one September weekend to show it would clamber out of cult status and be recognized as something the studio could platform into a nice little hit.

As a producer, then, the thirty-year-old Dunne is at speed. The grudging credit the industry gave him for co-producing Chilly Scenes of Winter, at age twenty-three, and added to with 1982′s Baby, It’s You (OP NOTE: This is an error. Should be 1983), must now give way to admiration. As an actor, he’s got many people besides the studio guards referring to him as an arriving star. He’s onscreen in virtually every frame in After Hours, and his highly expressive face, which seems to be hastily if handsomely thrown together, accented with dark eyebrows and riveting brown eyes, is undeniably crucial to our comic appreciation of the very odd goings-on during the protagonist’s interminable night among the sexually flawed denizens of artsy SoHo. Whether recoiling from the kinky come-ons of Rosanna Arquette’s Marcy and Linda Fiorentino’s Kiki, feeling mousetrapped by Teri Garr’s Julie, marked for slaughter by Catherine O’Hara’s Gail or imprisoned by Verna Bloom’s June, he’s a catalog of nearly nuanced lab-rat reflexes.

The key to Dunne’s performance is clearly reaction, as Amy Robinson points out: “It was imperative in this movie that the character be very likable. Otherwise, why would you want to spend this hour and a half going through such trials and tribulations?”

Adam Brooks, who directed him in this year’s unkindly received Almost You, judges Griffin to be just the right everyman for this opening up in Scorsese’s work. “He’s alone, like other Scorsese heroes, but not obsessed. He’s more like us - a child of computers and television. Lonely, but not driven.”

“A lot of people say Griffin looks like Dudley Moore, but I think he’s a lot more like Jack Benny - his comedy works when he’s surrounded by a lot of crazy people, crazy events. He’s charming, endearing. What’s great about After Hours is that the charm gets defeated at every point and ends up being a kind of vanity - so you’ve got this nicely mounting hysteria.”

The Joseph Minion script for After Hours - dispatched to Griffin after being handed to Amy Robinson by Minion’s film-school professor, director Dusan Makavejec - caught the actor’s fancy on page 2. He could sink right into the role of Paul Hackett, a lonely and bored word processor who meets an enticing girl at a coffee shop. “I understood the speech patterns, the other characters and the tension. And the situation of a horrible date. Of being with somebody, trapped in a situation. I’m looking around the room, going ‘How do I get out of here? And how the hell did I get in here?’ Which is a pretty funny basis for a movie.”

“My only criterion for directing Griffin,” says Scorsese, “was ‘I don’t believe you. For all you know, you’re pleading for your life. If I don’t believe you, I’m not gonna print this take, and we’ll just continue till I believe you.’ He had to get in touch with something in here, he had to plead for his life. And that was - fun.”

Thomas Griffin Dunne was born June 8th, 1955, in New York City, the first of three children of Dominick and Ellen (known as Lenny). His father was a Connecticut-bred, Williams-educated stage manager en route to producer status; his mother was an actress and model raised in Nogales, Arizona, by her Mexican mother and her cattle-rancher father, Thomas Griffin. Dominick worked on everything from Howdy Doody to Playhouse 90, and when colleague Martin Manulis moved to Los Angeles in 1956, Dominick took his work and family went as well.

They settled in then quaint Beverly Hills (”Not the Iranian gun boutiques they’ve got now,” grumbles Griffin), where Griffin hung out with other showbiz whelps, like Carrie Fisher, until heading east to a prestigious old prep school. One unfortunately whimsical day, under the influence of a notorious Moby Grape album cover, he extended his middle finger toward the camera in the football-team photo. By chance, two years later, the headmaster glanced at the photo; the punishment was five swats.

(OP NOTE: I actually contacted Fay School about this photo, and they claimed they didn’t have it. In hindsight, I should have tried a different approach because, to quote Mandy-Rice Davies, “Well they would, wouldn’t they?”)

Next stop was a less stodgy boys school in Colorado, where he won a plum role in The Zoo Story as a sophomore and became “Joe Theater” on campus. By senior year, he was preparing for his greatest performance, as Iago in Othello. The evening before the big day, Griffin and a friend were in a dorm room contentedly smoking dope when the door swung open. They smothered the joint just in time to look up at the school’s “one badass” faculty member, who asked, “What’s that smell?” “There was the longest pause,” recalls Griffin. “Finally, I said ‘What smell?’ “ The smoke, he says, “just poured right out - mocked me.”

Griffin, sent packing, hitchhiked home quite certain that his proper trade was acting. He got a bit part in Medical Story as an intern hooking up an I.V. line amid much medical palaver, but they changed the diagnosis on him at the last minute. Frantically trying to memorize the new bit during a five-minute break, he burned his lip trying to light a cigarette and went before the camera lisping, sweating, shaking, and bereft of words. Actress Linda Purl took pity and wrote his lines on her forearm, where the I.V. was to go. “It was such a classy move,” he says.

Still, deciding he’d better learn the trade from scratch, Griffin migrated to New York and joined the legion of struggling actors. He was catastrophically nervous at auditions: when he went before the stern Uta Hagen to apply for her acting class, he “went up” - completely forgot the text he’d prepared from The Catcher In The Rye. So he improvised, giving the story that morning’s trip downtown as Holden Caulfield might tell it. She was alternately rapt and chuckling, and signed him on. But he was soon shown to be the dunce of a class full of working actors. Finally, one day after he set a prop door up backward for a solo exercise, then frenziedly tried to shove it the wrong way through the jamb, she took him aside and told him he was simply not ready for her class. But he begged her one more chance, and the next day he skipped forward several exercises to do an imaginary phone call. He wowed Hagen and the class and went on from there.

As he built off-Broadway credits, Dunne lived in various shabby apartments and worked odd jobs, notably, selling candy and popcorn at Radio City Music Hall, where he was stung by the indifference of the Amazonian Rockettes: “They certainly had no time for a guy in a polyester zip-up baby-blue jacket with a cadet hat and shoes two sizes too big that had belonged to an usher who died of old age.”

He met Amy Robinson, who had gone from Scorsese’s Mean Streets to searching for work, at a party. With a third actor, Mark Metcalf, they became upstart movie producers by optioning Ann Beattie’s Chilly Scenes of Winter. Joan Micklin Silver came in as screenwriter and director, and they got studio financing to make a cult prestige item. It marked the beginning of a time of happy overwork for Griffin. He came back from shooting a TV film called The Wall in Poland (opposite Rosanna Arquette) to do the play Coming Attractions, which he then left to do John Landis’ film An American Werewolf in London.

He had come back to work full-time on producing Baby, It’s You when horrible news came: his sister, Dominique, a promising young actress, was strangled to death at the age of twenty-two by her boyfriend, a chef at Ma Maison.

“It brought all of us who were left together for every moment for a year between what happened and the verdict,” says Dominick Dunne. “It’s never for a moment not a part of you. The point is, you have to go on, you have to cope, to live your life. He threw himself into his work.”

Baby, It’s You was completed that year and dedicated to his sister. Then, even as he helped with script revisions to After Hours, Griffin was before the cameras in Adam Brooks’ Almost You. It’s about a couple suffering from the young man’s restlessness, and though Dunne and Brooke Adams agreed to do it while they were very much a couple, by the time it got financing, they were just friends. “I guess you could say they had a lot to work with,” says Brooks. “but that never interfered with the production.”

Griffin’s been seeing New York actress Ellen Barkin lately; she was on his arm for the New York premiere of the film and afterward was a proud but not proprietary presence as he accepted congratulations well into the night from a buzzing crowd of friends at a downtown restaurant. He was due to head cross-country for promotional chores, but he’s got further plans for his unusually hyphenated career. He and Amy Robinson have optioned the hit play The Foreigner, written by the late Larry Shue. And after the rigors of making After Hours on a nocturnal schedule, Griffin is very happy to have the phone plugged back in and the shades up.

(OP NOTE: As I mentioned in the transcript for the American Film article, The Foreigner never materialized as a feature film, though Robin Williams was attached at one point. That’s all the information I have about that at the moment.)

“I noticed that Griffin is the kind of guy who gets around a lot, parties a lot,” says Scorsese, “and I knew the hardest part of his job was sustaining the anxiety for eight weeks of shooting.” The director pauses for a grin that demands to be called devilish. “So I told him, ‘No sex for eight weeks. We’ve got careers on the line here. I don’t want you up at night talking, wasting your time and your precious bodily fluids.’

“Really, the idea was to contain him and keep him in this night world for eight weeks, ‘cause his performance depended on anxiety, and if he was satisfied, he would never be able to get that.”

Dunne, reminded later of the challenge, tips back his chair and grins to himself. “Aw, that was easy to live up to,” he says, then waits a beat to settle into the deadpan expression that is such a comic weapon for him. “Did you ever try to get a date a six-thirty in the morning?”

#griffin dunne #rolling stone #rolling stone magazine #vintage magazines #archive #journalism #martin scorsese #after hours #amy robinson #after hours 1985

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wheresthetylenol · 6 years

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Here we go..

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

Dilip - Geek, NoMBe - Miss Mirage, Starfucker - Kahlil Gibran, Icarus Moth - Needles, Skrillex - Would You Ever, and Duumu - Love Spells just to name a few.

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? Julian Casablancas

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad “He died of a heart attack on August 3, 1924, at the age of 66, and was buried near his home in a Roman Catholic cemetery in Canterbury.

4: What do you think about most? What’s really in it for me?

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say? I love you too baby. See you tomorrow!

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on? With.

7: What’s your strangest talent? I can whistle 4 different ways.

8: Girls… (); Boys… () Lame question imo.

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you? No but there have been many many diary entries.

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar? Probably when I was a kid haha

11: Do you have any strange phobias? I fucking hate moths.

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? Don’t think so.

13: What’s your religion? I haven’t decided.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Leaving my house.

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? In front!

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band? The Strokes

17: What was the last lie you told? I hope you guys have a good night!

18: Do you believe in karma? Yes, very much so.

19: What does your URL mean? It’s from Christmas Vacation.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength? Pizza, and my personal hygiene

21: Who is your celebrity crush? Mary Elizabeth Winstead

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Yeah I sure have!

23: How do you vent your anger? Spending more time on hobbies or just going for a walk.

24: Do you have a collection of anything? I collect e-juice bottles I guess

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Neither really, but talking on the phone

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become? Not yet, but I feel very close

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love? Other people eating, and hit markers in Overwatch

28: What’s your biggest “what if”? What if when you die the light at the end of the tunnel is you being born again?

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens? I don’t believe in ghosts but there are definitely a countless number of alien species out there

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. My mouse, and a coaster on my desk

31: Smell the air. What do you smell? Home!

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to? Hillyard haha

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast? West Coast any day

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? Tay Swifty

35: To you, what is the meaning of life? To fall in love and be very comfortable.

36: Define Art. Anything where someone is using creativity, and people who observe that believe it as such

37: Do you believe in luck? I used to

38: What’s the weather like right now? Cloudy, I think it’ll rain tomorrow

39: What time is it? 3:34 AM

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? Nope

41: What was the last book you read? H20 - Virginia Bergin

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline? Not really, it’s too strong.

43: Do you have any nicknames? Jordy

44: What was the last film you saw? Bohemian Rhapsody, it was fantastic!

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? Just a big gash on my forehead when I was a kid

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly? I’ve never tried

47: Do you have any obsessions right now? Girls!

48: What’s your sexual orientation? Straight

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you? Yes, plenty and still to this day

50: Do you believe in magic? No

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Not for long!

52: What is your astrological sign? I’m a Libra

53: Do you save money or spend it? Spend, but I really want to save.

54: What’s the last thing you purchased? Vodka :)

55: Love or lust? Love

56: In a relationship? Yes

57: How many relationships have you had? 11 or 12?

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Yep

59: Where were you yesterday? I was at a basketball game

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? Nope

61: Are you wearing socks right now? Yes

62: What’s your favourite animal? Dogs :)

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? Charisma, and good energy

64: Where is your best friend? He’s at his place

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr. lucidforests, showerthoughts, tattoosideas, archatlas, and bestfoodpictures

66: What is your heritage? I dont have one

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM? Netflix and chill

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name? Satan is a title

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off? Of course i have

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend? Yeah, I talk to myself just as much as anyone else

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? I would get fired in a heartbeat!

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? a.) Yes, I would have to as tragic as it would be.. b.) Party like it’s 1999! c.) No, I think I would be ready

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love. That’s a really tough one.. I think I could manage with just love.

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? Zelliack - Call Me Old Fashioned

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number? 0720

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? Great sex!

77: How can I win your heart? Show me yours

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity? No boredom is way better

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? I chose music

80: What size shoes do you wear? 10.5

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone? Enemy double kill xD

82: What is your favourite word? Fuck, Ass, Bitch

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. Love

84: What is a saying you say a lot? Fuck me, dude.

85: What’s the last song you listened to? Miami Horror - Sometimes

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours? Blue

87: What is your current desktop picture? I’ll post it

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be? I don’t know really haha

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on? Question 88

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do? Freak the hell out!

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power? I would love to be able to get $1,000 every time I reach into my pockets

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again? My early teens, I loved all the good times me and my friends had back in the day!

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? Getting caught trying to steal money from my older sister

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be? Tove Lo

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? Perth, Australia

96: Do you have any relatives in jail? Not for a very very long time

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car? No thank god haha

98: Ever been on a plane? Yes, we went to Disneyland

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say? I would tell everyone about my dream to be a professional producer, open an awesome record label, start a dope XM radio station and make bank!

Wow, I can’t believe I made it through this, if you read most of it, shoot me a PM. I would love to chat haha

#personal

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clydesanders-rp-blog · 7 years

Text

Full name: Clyde Micheal Sanders

Pronunciation: CLY-DE

Nickname(s) or alias: Clyde

Preferred name: Clyde

Current age: twenty

Astrological sign: Leo

Element:Fire

Title: MR

Label: The misfit

Gender: Male

Preferred pronouns: He/him

Sexual preference: bisexual

Romantic preference: Grayromantic

Resides in: Princeton, NJ

Current occupation: student

Language(s) spoken: english

Native language: english

Current marital status:

( &&. background )

Reason behind name: his mother named him after clyde barrow

Birth order: first born

Ethnicity: CAUCASIAN

Nationality: American

Species: human

Religion: catholic

Political views: none

Financial status: rich

IQ: 127

Hometown: Santa monica, CA

( &&. physical appearance )

Looks like (or face claim, if applicable): cole sprouse

Height: 6′0

Weight: 170

Shoe size: 12

Figure/build: slim

Hair colour, Dyed?: raven

Hair length: short

Eye colour: green

Glasses? Colour? / Contacts? Are they coloured?:

Shape of face: round

Facial hair:

Do they shave/wax? Where?:

Skin tone: white

Tattoos: none

Piercings: none

Birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: birthmarks

Dominant hand: right

If painted, what color are their nails/toenails?:

Usual style of clothing: casual

Frequently worn jewelry: gold rolex

Describe their voice, what accent?: none

What is their speaking style (fast, monotone, loquacious)?: loquacious

Describe their scent: soap and cigarettes

Describe their posture: normal

( &&. legal information )

Birth Name: (if changed)

Other names they go by:

Any speeding tickets?: yes

Have they ever been arrested?: yes

Do they have a criminal record?: no

Have they committed any violent crimes?: no

Property crimes?: no

Traffic crimes?: yes

Other crimes?: no

( &&. medical information )

Blood type: o positive

Date/time of birth: 8/4/97 , 9am

Place of birth: santa monica, CA

Vaginal birth or cesauren section?: vaginal

Sex: Male

Diet: regular

Smoker? / Drinker? / Drug User?, Which?: all

Addictions: cannabis, xanax and alcohol

Allergies: none

Do they get occasional checkups?: yes

Ever broken a bone?: yes

Hospital visits, what for?: overdoses

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: none

Any medication regularly taken: none

( &&. career information )

Past occupation(s): modeling

Why are they no longer working as it?: disagreements with the boss

Do they enjoy their current occupation?: yes

Why do they do it?: for fun

How did they end up in their current occupation?: personal manger

How long have they been in their current occupation?: 3 years

( &&. personality )

Direct quote from them: ‘ life is too short so do what you want to do’

Positive traits: warmhearted, affectionate, helpful

Negative traits: moody, ill tempered, impulsive

Likes: working out, music, reading, sleeping

Dislikes: crowded places

Strengths: photography, science

Weaknesses: Math, flirting

Insecurities: his nose

Fears/phobias: being stuck in tight spaces

Habits: playing with hair , biting nails, shaking leg

Quirks: always chewing gum

Hobbies: photography

Guilty pleasure: xanax

Desires: to travel the world

Wishes: to go back in time

Regrets: not forgiving his mother for leaving

Secrets: he was involved in a drunken hit and run

Turn ons: neck kisses

Turn offs: spitting

Kinks/fetishes: being tied up

Superstitions: opening an umbrella inside

Lucky number: 7

Pet peeves: People Who Don't Cover Their Cough/sneeze, animal cruelty

Their motto: you only live once

( &&. favourites )

Food: pasta

Drink: mountain dew

Fast food restaurant: olive garden

Flavour: vanilla

Word: dope

Colour: red

Clothing: gucci

Accessory: gold rolex

Candle scent: apple cinnamon

Store: apple

Instrument: guitar

Game: call of duty black opps

Occupation: student

Animal: dog

Holiday: halloween

Weather: cold

Season: fall

Book: hunger games

Artist: eminem

Band/group: linkin park

Song: what’s my age again by blink 182

Movie/film: Constantine

TV show: south park

Sport: lacrosse

Sports team: the giants

Quote: ‘live fast die young’

School subject: english

Possession: ring

Name: clyde

Number: 7

Emoji: purple devil

Mythological creature: Zeus

( &&. skills )

Talents: photography

Special powers/abilities: none

Ability to drive a car? Operate any other vehicles?: yes

Can they ride a bike?:yes

Do they play any sports?: yes

Anything they’re bad at?: singing

Do they have any combat training? Why?: N/A

( &&. firsts )

Childhood memory: hearing mom and dad arguing

Crush: the girl from next door

Email address: [email protected]

Job: photographer

Phone: iphone 7

Computer: mac

Kiss: the girl next door

Love: N/A

Sexual experience: in her bedroom

( &&. childhood )

Best childhood memory?: opening presents on christmas

Worst childhood memory?: getting an ass whooping from dad

What were they like as a child?: energetic

Any crushes growing up?: brother’s best friend

Did they know/like their parents?:yes

Worst influence on them as a kid?: brother

Did they have a lot of friends?: no

Were they heavily punished?: yes

Anything they wish they could cut out?: ass beatings from dad

Were they more feminine or masculine?: masculine

Were they an early or late bloomer for puberty?: late

Do they still know any of their childhood friends?: yes

Did they have any chores? What?: dishes and garbage

Describe their childhood home: mansion

( &&. this or that )

Expensive or inexpensive tastes?: expensive

Hygienic or Unhygienic?: hygienic

Open-minded or close-minded?: open

Introvert or extrovert?: introvert

Optimistic or pessimistic?: pessimistic

Daredevil or cautious?: daredevil

Logical or emotional?: emotional

Generous or stingy?: generous

Polite or rude?: polite

Book smart or street smart?: both

Dominant or submissive?: dominant

Popular or loner?: loner

Leader or follower?: leader

Day or night person?: night

Cat or dog person?: dog

Closet door open or closed while sleeping?: closed

( &&. family relationships )

Father: Michael Bryan Sanders

Describe their relationship: rocky

Mother: Hayley Lockwood

Describe their relationship: estranged

Brothers: Bryan elton sanders

Describe their relationship: love/hate

( &&. other relationships )

Best friend: N/A

Childhood friend: peter vega

Enemy: brice evans

Past romances: N/A

Pets: dogs

Heroes: superman

( &&. social media )

Do they have a Facebook? Twitter? Instagram? Vine? Snapchat? Tinder/Grindr? Tumblr? YouTube?

If so; Name on Facebook: Clyde sanders

Twitter handle: @clydesanders

Instagram user: @clydesanders

Vine user: none

Snapchat user: @snap-clyde

Name on Tinder/Grindr: none

Tumblr URL:

YouTube channel:Clydesandersvlogs

( &&. musical tastes )

Theme song: Heathens top

Can relate to: crawling linkin park

Makes them happy: always blink 182

Makes them sad: i miss you blink 182

Makes them dance: wake me up before you go

Loves the most: heavy linkin park

Describes them: numb linkin park

Never gets tired of: leave out all the rest linkin park

Would like to be played at their wedding: i was made for loving you ED sheeran

Would like to play at their funeral: 27 MGK

( &&. miscellaneous )

Do they have a fake I.D.?: yes

Are they a virgin?: no

Describe their signature: cursive and neat

How long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse?: until the end

Do they travel?: yes

One place they would like to live: bora bora

One place they would like to visit: Egypt

Celebrity crush: megan fox

What can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: general

Place(s) your character can always be found: beach

When does your character like to wake up?: late

What’s your character’s morning routine?: normal

What does your character eat for breakfast/lunch/dinner?: poptarts, anything that’s good

How does your character spend their free days?: clubbing

What’s your character’s bedtime routine?: normal

What does your character wear to bed?: boxers

If your character can’t fall asleep, what are they thinking about?: life

What has been their greatest achievement?: making 8 mill on youtube

What is their idea of perfect happiness?: finishing school and getting married

What or who is the greatest love of their life?: girlfriend

On what occasions do they lie?: none

Most marked characteristic: eyes and hair

What is one thing they’d most like to change about themselves?: nothing

How would they like to die?: sleeping

Do they snore?: no

Do they chew their pens/pencils?: yes

Can they whistle?: yes

Do they believe in the supernatural?: no

Have they ever cheated on anyone?: no

Have they ever been cheated on?: yes

Has anyone ever broken their heart?: yes

Have they ever broken anyone’s heart?:no

Are they squeamish?: depends

Have they ever killed anyone? Why? How?: no

Have they ever seen anyone die? What happened?: yes, a friend got shot during a shoot out

Are they a lightweight?: no

#gogreek:task

1 note · View note

imonthatnextnext · 5 years

Photo

CONQUEST'S SNEAKER OF THE WEEK: The Air Jordan 1 Retro High OG Defiant I can't lie, The Air Jordan 1 is definitely a Top 3 choice (Probably top 2) as far as Jordan retros go for me. At the same time, I fear that @jumpman23 might be in danger of running these shoes into the ground with increasingly questionable colorways that create a straight 'dud' of a shoe. Initially thought that when it came to this sneaker, but more and more, I'm really starting to like it, even love it, and that shoe is the Air Jordan 1 Retro High OG Defiant 'Tour Yellow' version WHY I LIKE IT?: According to @snkrs: From the court to the streets, the influence of the Air Jordan I is unmatched. The silhouette quickly transcended its purpose and 'Defiant' celebrates the music community who adopted it as its own—alternative rock. For a DIY aesthetic, the red swoosh treatment takes inspiration from leather jacket’s stitching details and removable patches. Black leather on the upper and a contrasting yellow swoosh salute to ‘80s album colors and irreverent streetwear that defined alternative rock at the time All that stuff is well and good, and especially for the hardcore rock enthusiast that I am, it makes it seem like the perfect it. However, I wasn't convinced that this sneakers was aesthetically pleasing to the eye at first, but on closer inspection, this sneaker is actually very dope. The design works, the leather used on the shoe is phenomenal and it actually looks really amazing on feet (@jumpermankris' recent on feet YouTube video for this shoe really convinced me of that). WOULD I BUY IT? Honestly, I think I would. I don't know if I can personally afford to right now BUT, I'm interested in it. If you are too, hit up @stockx for your size. They've been incredibly slept on up to this point Written by Jason Andre Roberts aka CONQUEST #CONQUEST #CONQUEST44 #CONQUESTSneakerOfTheWeek #AirJordan1RetroHighOG #AirJordan1RetroHighOGDefiant #AirJordan1RetroHighOGDefiantTourYellow #AirJordan1 #Jordan1s #JordanRetros #Sneakerhead #Sneakernews #Instakicks #IGSneakerCommunity #EngagingTheCulture #ImOnThatNextNEXT #Style #Fashion #Rock #DIY #Defiant #Hypebeast #SNKRS #Jumpman #Jumpman23 https://www.instagram.com/p/B0tBLaYANHy/?igshid=1cllkf3i4cd5p

0 notes

writingandchocolatemilk · 7 years

Text

A World Beyond Main Street

Anonymous said : I wish you would write a fic where Prussia and someone who isn't Canada or Austria or Hungary or any of Prussia's more popular ships were on a world wide journey as humans and something bad happens

Soo how about some platonic, German Brothers brotherly love ?

On AO3. On FFn.

The gutter groaned under Gilbert's weight.

Well, it wasn't the actual gutter, Gilbert thought, digging his nails into the metal. It was that part of the gutter that dripped down the side of the house, bringing the water from the roof to the ground. That Gilbert was attempting to climb.

"Oh, fuck," Gilbert breathed.

The whole thing gave a jolt. Gilbert released it, trying to twist, but he still slammed down on the ground. The wind rushed out of his lungs.

He lay in the grass, attempting to suck in air, writhing, back arched.

It was called a fucking downspout. Gilbert blinked the tears out of his eyes.

Plan B was pebble. Except there weren't any pebbles, so Gilbert ended up throwing his sneaker at the window.

"Ludwig!" Gilbert hopped over to his shoe and threw it again. "Damn it, Ludwig!" Gilbert whisper-yelled.

The light flicked on, and Gilbert stood crouched, ready to run if it was the wrong room.

"Gilbert?"

Gilbert waved, grin so wide it hurt his face. "Hey!"

Ludwig looked over his shoulder, back to Gilbert, and then leaned slightly out of the window. "What are you doing here?"

"We're going to find Dad!"

Gilbert couldn't see Ludwig's face in the dark, and he didn't say anything, either. Maybe he didn't want to find Dad. Maybe he was happy with his new family.

"Hey!" Gilbert gestured vaguely at Ludwig in the window. "Get dressed! We have to get far enough away so they won't find us in the morning. Dress warm, wear sneakers. Ludwig, come on!"

"Hold on." Ludwig shut the window.

Gilbert blew into his hands. Fuck, fuck. Ludwig was waking up his fosters. Or calling the fucking cops. He was taking too long—Gilbert had brought enough clothes for the both of them, but had he told Ludwig that? Shit.

Finally, there the front door opened, and Gilbert grabbed the backpack and darted over. Ludwig had an oversized coat, sneakers that were probably too small.

Gilbert pulled him into a hug.

"Fuck, I missed you."

Ludwig squeezed him. The squirt must have grown three inches since Gilbert had last seen him. "I missed you."

Gilbert laughed, wet, nearly crying. "I missed you, too." Gilbert held Ludwig at arm's length. "We're going to find Dad. Come on. I'll tell you more once we get away from this fucking prison."

Gilbert shrugged his pack further onto his shoulders, and they set off. It wasn't a bad neighborhood, all things considered. There were trees, at least, some grass here and there. Ludwig's fosters even had a yard. Lucky fuck.

"We have to cut through a bad part of town," Gilbert said, lowly. "So keep your head down, hands in your pockets."

"Where are we going?"

"We have to get out of the city."

Ludwig's eyes widened. He grabbed Gilbert's arm. "We can't leave the city."

"Why the fuck not?" Gilbert pulled away and kept walking, gesturing. "Come on. It's already later than I would have liked."

Ludwig walked at his heel. "Gilbert, what are we doing?"

"I already told you." Gilbert said, voice louder, cracking in the middle. "Come on."

Thankfully, Ludwig fell into step. Gilbert's heart pounded in his ears at every person passing them on the sidewalk. The knife in his pocket felt very heavy, and he gripped it, but it didn't make him feel any better. Just like he was a kid.

It took two hours of Gilbert frantically checking his watch to finally hit the suburbs. But even then, Gilbert couldn't shake the weight off his shoulders.

Ludwig broke. "Gilbert, where are we going?"

Gilbert looked around, chewing his lip. "Alright." He smiled. "Alright." He unzipped his backpack and grabbed the road map. "See this?" He pointed at the route, highlighted in red marker. "This is the way to Dad's house."

Ludwig looked at the map, eyebrows furrowed. "Gilbert—"

"Look, all we have to do is, like, thirty-five miles. That's nothing, especially if we're walking all morning. No one's going to expect us to go west. And I brought food and—"

"Gilbert, he doesn't want us."

Gilbert looked up at him. "Don't say that."

Ludwig's eyes were round, and he was worrying his lip. "He gave us up."

"No, our mother gave us up," Gilbert snapped. "She left him. He probably doesn't even know she—what happened to us. Our last name? Not many people have it. This had to be the guy."

Ludwig looked at the map again.

"Come on, Ludwig," Gilbert said, leaning closer, grinning. "Can you imagine? No more fucking foster houses, no more different schools. We can live together!"

"Alright."

"You mean fuck yes!"

Ludwig's mouth twitched into a smile.

Gilbert grinned back, then flipped up both their hoods up. Gilbert walked quickly, mouthing street names to himself. He had studied the route a thousand times. A thousand times. He knew the way.

First it was the fathers leaving for work, headlights in the early morning mist. Then the school buses, clean of graffiti, of thirteen-year-olds smoking dope and cigarettes. Then squealing children being wrangled into car seats.

Gilbert clenched his fists at the unfairness of it all.

It was good they were both tall for their ages; had Ludwig been shorter, some concerned mother might have stopped and asked them where they were going. But they walked by houses with lawns and trees and golden retrievers without so much as a passing glance.

Ludwig wasn't next to him.

Gilbert whirled around, but Ludwig was only a few feet behind.

"Shortstop, what're…" Gilbert saw the park, the swing-sets and slides.

Ludwig's attention snapped back to Gilbert. "Sorry," he said.

Gilbert checked his watch. They had been walking for over four hours, almost five. "Fuck it, do you want to swing?"

Gilbert marched over and threw his backpack on the ground, collapsing onto the swing gratefully. It was the most comfortable seat he had ever felt.

Ludwig swung next to him.

Gilbert jumped up and ran behind Ludwig, giving him a huge push. Ludwig let out a squawk, legs kicking wildly. Gilbert gave him another great shove, whooping. A laugh ripped from Ludwig's throat, childish and light, and Gilbert cheered.

Ludwig dug his heels into the dirt when Gilbert moved away, stopping himself. He smiled, cheeks red, hair a mess, eyes bright. "I'm hungry."

"Same. Come on." Gilbert stood and continued to walk, digging through his backpack. "Here, Poptart. I have plenty, and I have cash, so we can get pizza or burgers or something later. But right now we have to keep walking."

"Thank you."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "No problem, your majesty."

At twelve, Gilbert's feet began to blister.

At one, he took them off, walking on the asphalt in thin socks. He gave his shoes to Ludwig. They wore the same size; Gilbert was four years older.

At two-thirty, Gilbert's socks had to be replaced.

The houses grew further and further apart. It was mainly a few scattered trees, shrubbery. It was flatter than Gilbert had seen in a long time, the land stretching towards the horizon, with just gentle dips and hills. It grew flatter all the while.

It must have been fields out here, but now it was just plots of weeds. Houses were boarded up, windows, doors. The graffiti had reappeared, but instead of stray dogs, Gilbert swore he saw rabbits skipping away from them.

Gilbert's heart stopped when he heard sirens.

He grabbed Ludwig, looking around, and dragged him off the road. He kept Ludwig's head down and walked fast, leading them toward what looked like a barn.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Gilbert hissed, voice hoarse. "How did they find us, fuck, fuck."

He practically threw Ludwig into the barn, dragging the doors shut behind them. He held his ear to the door, holding his breath.

"Did you tell anybody?" Gilbert hissed. "Did you? Ludwig!"

Ludwig sat in a pile of hay and rat droppings. "I left a note," he whispered. "I just told them not to worry."

"Fuck," Gilbert said, dragging the word out.

Gilbert checked his watch. Four p.m.—so twelve hours. Would they really be after them that fast? There's no way.

The sirens neared. Gilbert felt nauseous. Felt the knife in his pocket. He wanted to cry. The noise was on top of them, in Gilbert's head, his mouth. And then…

"I think it's going," Ludwig whispered.

Gilbert slumped against the door. "Thank God."

The barn must have been used for shelter before. There were beer cans and cigarette butts. Gilbert walked around, checking for hobos. The arches of his feet burned; his heel sent shooting pain up the back of his foot. It didn't take long for him to collapse at Ludwig's side.

Ludwig's head kept dipping down, then snapping upright.

"We walked like twenty miles," Gilbert said, sitting up. He grabbed his backpack, offering it to Ludwig. "Here, eat as much as you need to, I have plenty."

Ludwig devoured the four Poptarts, a bag of chips, three apples, and three water bottles Gilbert had brought. Gilbert ate a bag of chips himself.

Gilbert leaned against the barn doors, head resting back, utterly exhausted. If anyone tried to come in, they'd have to knock him over first. Ludwig laid down, his back to Gilbert. The setting sun set his hair aflame, a halo around his head, the dust motes holy angels.

"Gilbert?"

"Fuck—" Gilbert kicked out, jolting upright. It was night now—the barn utterly dark. "Is everything okay?"

"Do you remember what Dad was like?"

Gilbert blinked, swallowed. He could feel the dust and hay coating his tongue. "Sort of. Well… I… just have… this one memory of him."

Ludwig shifted in the dark.

Gilbert let his head rest back. "I was so little, you know. I don't remember our house or… anything. But I think he…" Gilbert licked his lips. His back was sore, his feet were sore, he was starving. His neck was stiff. "He had just come home from work."

Gilbert closed his eyes. "He came home and lifted me into the air. I had run towards him. Put me on his shoulders. I remember laughing and…" He rubbed his fingers together. "Touching. His hair."

"Was he tall?"

Gilbert smiled. "Yeah. He was."

"Do… Do you remember Mom?"

The smile disappeared. "No. I don't. I don't want to, either. Neither should you."

Silence.

Gilbert cracked his neck. "Ludwig, why did you leave a note? They wouldn't have suspected anything. Is that why you took so long?"

Ludwig didn't answer for a long while. "I… I don't know. It felt like the right thing to do."

"They're only housing you for money, you know," Gilbert said stiffly.

"I know."

Gilbert checked his watch, lighting it up.

"Gilbert?"

"We have to leave in two hours, go back to bed."

Ludwig must have rolled over towards him, because his voice was louder. "I didn't know there were places without so many houses."

"What?"

"Like… There aren't any houses out here. Just giant yards. It's nice."

Gilbert laughed. "They're fields. For farms and stuff. Have you really never been out here? It's not far."

"No, none of my fosters ever brought me."

"You never just tried to run away?"

"No!" Ludwig sounded offended by the very idea.

Gilbert let his head flop back again. "Go back to bed. Love you."

"Love you."

The sun doesn't rise at four in the morning. This was the second morning Gilbert was glumly reminded of this fact when his watch buzzed him awake. It was cold, and for a long few minutes, Gilbert was sure his toes had frostbite. But after he put on the remaining pairs of socks on his feet, they warmed up enough for him to move around.

He ran water over his hands and face and changed clothes. He had Ludwig do the same, listening to the dribble of water on the barn floor.

"Why do I have to change clothes?" Ludwig whispered. "The ones I'm wearing are warmer."

"In case anyone saw us yesterday. This way, no one can identify us because of our clothes. Come on," Gilbert said, blindly handing Ludwig articles of clothing. "I want to get out there walking."

Gilbert squished his feet into Ludwig's old shoes, finding them to fit surprisingly well. They both ate an apple each as they walked, and shared the remaining bag of chips. Gilbert wanted to hold off on the last water bottle, but decided against it when Ludwig descended into a coughing fit.

"Next gas station we see, I promise," Gilbert said, "we'll get some real food."

They walked for two hours, and when the sun finally showed where they were, it was nowhere. The land spread out from either side of them to the horizon, where Gilbert thought he saw a cornfield. Clouds gathered there, trapped over the farm. For now, it was a pale lavender morning.

Other roads occasionally cut through the street they were walking on. They, too, stretched forward into the sky.

At seven, a building appeared on the horizon.

At seven-thirty, they reached the gas station. It was a twenty-four hour deal, and Gilbert purchased the old pizza from the night before and water. With the last of his money, he got Ludwig a Twinkie. They ate the pizza as they walked, grease dripping down their fingers.

"Did you get napkins?" Ludwig asked, flicking his hand.

"Nah, sorry."

The clouds finally reached them at eight-thirty. It made Gilbert strangely claustrophobic, without that endless sky.

"The air is cleaner out here," Ludwig said.

Gilbert jumped. He looked over his shoulder. Ludwig stared around, blue eyes wide. He kept swiveling his head around in giant circles, fascinated. Gilbert faced forward, feet throbbing, neck still stiff.

"It doesn't smell like cigarettes," Gilbert said. "Maybe we could just live out here. In that barn. We could start a farm. Make our own bread."

"I'd like that."

Gilbert looked over and grinned.

They came to an intersection with a lonely light directing no cars. Gilbert checked the map, just to be sure. Rain came down in fat pats on his head, the street.

Gilbert pointed. "Right, we take a left here, and Dad lives on this street."

Ludwig looked down the street, standing on the tips of his toes. "We're going to live out here?"

"I guess so," Gilbert said, putting the map away. "That's pretty rad. Come on, almost there, and then we can have a real meal and a shower."

Ludwig smiled.

The rain poured. Gilbert couldn't see ten feet in front of him. It was colder now, Gilbert's teeth chattering. Ludwig was slowing down, and he had another coughing fit, hands on his knees. Gilbert flipped his backpack to his front.

"Come on, get on my back, I'll carry you."

Ludwig blushed. "No, I can walk. I'm fine. The faster we walk, the sooner we can get out of the rain, and I'm just going to slow you down."

Gilbert bit his lip. Looked around at the puddles collecting in the ditches at the side of the road. Flipped his backpack around. "Alright."

The house was… smaller than Gilbert had imagined. He hadn't even realized it was a house until Ludwig stopped and looked at him, eyes wide. Gilbert had hoped for one of the suburb houses, something big with an SUV in front, a wreath on the door. This house was… small and squat, white, peeling paint.

Gilbert squinted through the rain. "That's our house number."

It was stupid for him to have expected anything different.

Gilbert walked to the front door, Ludwig holding his hand. They looked at each other. Gilbert squeezed Ludwig's hand. Then, he let go and knocked on the door.

The sound was very small in the rain.

A man with long, blond hair opened the door. "Can I help you?"

Gilbert couldn't speak. His throat closed on him, and his eyes grew hot and itchy. He took a shuddering breath. But still—

"Dad?" Ludwig said.

The man blinked at them. Their father. Gilbert's father.

"Dad?" Gilbert rasped. "It's us. It's Gilbert. And he's—he's Ludwig."

"Ah," their father said. "Boys."

Gilbert let out a sob, and Ludwig rushed forward, hugging his father.

Their father froze, arms raised in the air, looking down at Ludwig hugging him. Then, slowly, he reached down and patted Ludwig's back.

Gilbert couldn't move.

"Come in, out of the rain. I've just finished making breakfast," their father said, loudly, too loud. "Are you boys—"

"Yes," Gilbert croaked, "starving."

Their father served them cold scrambled eggs and bacon on paper plates. It was the best food Gilbert had ever eaten. They sat in silence, eating, staring at their father, who sat stiffly in front of them, reading a newspaper.

…

Gilbert launched himself towards his father, but was slammed against the table. He snarled, kicking back against the police officer, tears and snot blurring his vision.

"You fucker!" he screamed, trying to scratch at the hands holding him down. "You mother fucker! We're your kids!"

The officer handcuffed Gilbert, the metal cold, cold.

"I'm your kid! Don't you want me!?" Gilbert was hauled backwards, to his feet, but they wouldn't support his weight, he couldn't walk, he couldn't— "We walked for miles!" he sobbed as he was dragged through the living room.

"Please, Dad, please!"

Ludwig stood by the cruiser, eyes wide, staring at Gilbert. Gilbert felt the strength leave him, felt shame and embarrassment seep through him. Felt his cheek burn from where his father had slapped him.

Ludwig didn't look as Gilbert was put into the cruiser.

#aph prussia #aph germany #APH German Brothers #writing #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #hetalia #gilbert beilschmidt #ludwig beilschmidt

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worldslyrics · 4 years

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COOLER THAN A BITCH Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics, Gunna Sang this song Which is very beautiful and attractive song. COOLER THAN A BITCH Lyrics is released on 2020. COOLER THAN A BITCH Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics song is a great choice for you, If you want to be a singer then Sing this hot and lovely COOLER THAN A BITCH Lyrics which is sang by your favorite singer Gunna. COOLER THAN A BITCH Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics

COOLER THAN A BITCH Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics

{Intro} Hey Hey

{Chorus: Gunna} Cooler than a bitch (Cool), let the thing twice, my shooter in a ‘Vette Tenth grade, bought a Frank Mueller off of licks (Yeah) Percocet feelin’ like I’m cruisin’ on a ship (Woah) It’s your birthday, put some diamonds on your wrist (Ice) Everything be golden, had a Patek on the wrist (Yeah) Strokin’ on the toe, watch her bitin’ on her lip (Stroke) I fly across the globe and I call another hit (Fly) They wipin’ ’cause they know how slimey it can get (Slime) I rather take the top off and bottom off the bitch (Bottom off the bitch) These favorite rappers burnin’, they be runnin’ out of hits (Runnin’ out of hits) Say the wrong word, and I’ma shoot him in his shit (Yeah) Used to big dogs, you a poodle, I’m a pit (Shoot him) I trust these hoes just as far as I can spit (As far as I can spit) Just broke another Audemar if you like it then you get it You stand the money tall, if you broke we ain’t at peace (Yeah)

{Verse 1: Gunna} I feel like a rocket I’m all outer space Got pretty girls with me, I make sure all of ’em straight I dress that bitch, I put her in some Prada and bape Young Wunna international in all fifty states Listen, I might buss some nigga Big crew with a machete Smoke gasoline, I met three young lady Card never did, I just spend without a limit Three Rolls watches and they all got baguette’d I got ten bad bitches, I keep all of ’em happy I didn’t {?} my bitch, buy her a gold Patek She can suck a good dick, get the Benz for ‘matic This a rich nigga, come and feel my fabric Young Gun-Wunna, I got hundreds in my pants and my jacket Chandelier in the ceiling think we fucking in the palace And the real be gettin’ to the millions It gon’ open nigga status, open nigga status

{Verse 2: Roddy Ricch} Pull up to the Maybach, hmm, in the driveway Traphouse, had bitches count hundreds in the room How you play me? You a street nigga havin’ loose lips Got a lot of new shit, Eliantte chain like the bottom of a ship Got my niggas in the feds gettin’ loans when they get out Keefa had to bring the Bentayga with the kit out Got five bitches runnin’ off the dope at the penthouse She ain’t tryna give me no neck, she had to get out So my young shooters go weigh some shit Big brother taught me how to sip Actavis When I pull up Mulsanne, she get crackin’ on the dick Lil’ shawty gave me brain, I almost crashed the whip Denim, Saint Laurent, what’s your shoe size? Fucked her, I don’t came about two times I got {?} on top the rooftop, yeah Big {?} suicide, yeah

{Outro} Ice Yeah Slime Runnin’ out of hits Yeah

COOLER THAN A BITCH Lyrics-Gunna Lyrics

Artist: Gunna Released: 2020

#worldslyrics #lyrics #songlyrics #latestlyrics #newlyrics

#Worldslyrics #Lyrics

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its-zhangjiashuai-us · 5 years

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Sports shoe discount

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#volcom #puma #SKECHERS

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theconservativebrief · 6 years

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Unlaced is Nike’s new “curated destination for female sneaker lovers.”

(In other words, it is a small store.)

It was announced at Paris Fashion Week in February and launched online in March. It’s hitting brick-and-mortar stores later this month, and this new round will be curated by Sarah Andelman — the famed co-founder of Paris’s Colette, the concept store (1997–2017, RIP) that arguably kicked off the modern, nonstop proliferation of brand collaborations, crossovers, and general hype.

It’s 2018, Nike is trying to include women in sneaker culture, and this is news. How’d we get here? Why does it matter? Has it actually been unclear whether women have feet?

In a February press release, Nike itself laid the problem out fairly bluntly: “As sneakers transcended sport and initiated street-style trends, collaboration became an integral component of sneaker culture, blossoming into a symbiotic relationship between brands and external creative communities. That community has been predominantly male.”

The “community” Nike is referencing is the $20 billion global sneaker industry, which has grown alongside the evolution of sneakers from a utility object to a fashion statement. Historically, it’s been all about boys. This includes big brands like Nike, but also the big blogs — like Kevin Ma’s Hypebeast media empire and Marc Ecko’s similarly enormous Complex — and the shoppers and the redditors and the $1 billion resale market and the scammers and the icons. Nike’s signature Jordan brand was designed exclusively by men from its advent in 1984 all the way up to 2010, when artist and filmmaker Vashtie Kola became the first woman to design an iteration of the shoe.

“In pushing new female voices, Nike is challenging the sneaker status quo,” Nike claims in its press release. But women already have their own sneaker communities. There are thousands of them in the women’s streetwear subreddits. They’re largely influenced less by the major blogs and more by their own, slightly less high-profile heroes like designer Aleali May, Small Feet Big Kicks founder Jess Gavigan, and streetwear vloggers like Jennifer Tiffany, Andrea Kyriacou, Karen Yeung, Julia Dang, and Maya Nilsen.

New Nike Air Jordans designed by Virgil Abloh, available in women’s sizes. Nike

It’s not that women don’t participate en masse; it’s that participating is harder because brands have largely ignored them. The biggest pain point for women in sneaker culture is that the most coveted shoes often aren’t even made in their sizes.

While all major brands have women’s sizes in certain styles, many of the most popular classic styles and almost all buzzy, limited-edition collaborations come only in men’s sizes. (For example, Tyler, the Creator’s many GOLF le FLEUR* collaborations, the majority of Virgil Abloh’s Nike projects, most limited-edition Nike Jordans, almost all of Kanye West’s Yeezy styles, and dozens of others.) Women find themselves left out of the major “drops” that hyped-up teen boys get to celebrate, or — as a patch solve — they wind up buying the largest possible kid sizes in boys shoes, which are often made with cheaper materials.

Nike’s new women-oriented Unlaced project will tackle that problem by offering “unisex sizing on select classic Jordan styles,” expanding sizing for the wildly popular Nike Air Force 1 and Air Max lines, and breaking with its tradition of collaborating almost exclusively with buzzy male designers by hiring two super-famous women — cult favorite British menswear designer Martine Rose and avant-garde Japanese jewelry designer Yoon — to create new ready-to-wear clothing lines and sneakers. It’s a start, but is it enough? And why so late?

Progress on the woman’s sneaker front has come in dribs and drabs. Last summer, Nordstrom’s director of creative projects, Olivia Kim, designed a limited-edition reimagining of the Nike Cortez, a classic style introduced as the brand’s first track shoe in 1972. The other major contribution to women’s sneakers that season was almost laughable: a Nike and Swarovski line of ultra-feminine shoes coated in crystals. There’s not a single mention of them in the entire women’s streetwear subreddit. (One opinion, from me: They are hideous.)

In the lead-up to Unlaced, Nike also had a 14-woman design team work on a line of reimagined Air Force 1s and Air Jordan 1s, which came in styles called Explorer, Lover, Sage, Rebel, and Jester. They’re objectively cool. The company also made women’s sizes available for the hotly-anticipated The 10 line, designed by Kanye West’s creative director Virgil Abloh. Abloh then designed Serena Williams’s Queen line for the brand, which debuted this summer. The attempts are getting markedly better.

The Nike Air Force 1 Lover XX, from the all-woman design team behind the 1 Reimagined line. Nike

But this is not altruism; it’s just smart business that took way too long to figure out. It wasn’t really until 2014 — when Rihanna was named creative director of Puma and French luxury brand Céline sent a pair of Air Force 1–inspired sneakers down the runway — that Nike started sitting up and paying attention. To test the idea of a women’s sneaker shop, Nike had Nordstrom’s Olivia Kim curate a small selection of women’s styles for Nordstrom in the fall of 2016.

Nike VP Amy Montagne became the general manager of Nike Women in 2014, and she has been open about Unlaced as a way for Nike to push its women’s business from a $6.6 billion annual endeavor to an $11 billion one by 2020. In 2017, sales of “athletic footwear” were up 2 percent overall, but 5 percent among women. Women’s sneaker sales are growing faster than men’s, and the market is not yet saturated. Nike still has time to take a huge chunk of it: Amazon’s Zappos has a relatively small section (called “The Ones”) dedicated to women’s sneakers; Adidas just nabbed Kylie Jenner as its spokesperson and partnered with Refinery29 to make 50 pairs of women-specific Ultra Boosts; and Puma is almost embarrassingly dependent on Rihanna, who now has plenty of other business concerns.

On the internet, the counterpart to a “hypebeast,” a guy who gets excited to spend money on the latest clothes and shoes from the most hyped-up designers and celebrities, has been “hypebae.” It’s not a compliment: It refers to a girl who dates a hypebeast and wears his clothes. The women’s version of the publication Hypebeast is called Hypebae (it launched just two years ago), but the active users in the women’s streetwear subreddits rarely use the term.

There’s some concern that Nike’s pivot is similar — expansion via condescension. Reddit user jetejypsy, who did not want to be referred to by name, is active in the major women’s streetwear subreddits and tells Vox that she appreciates expanded size options for sneakers but doesn’t love the other elements of the Unlaced project. They’re what you’d expect from a brand trying to cater to the trope of a lady shopper: vaguely referenced “special packaging” and “one-on-one appointments” with guest stylists in stores.

“It makes streetwear culture approachable for [women who want] their skinny jeans, flannel, a [pumpkin spice latte], and some kicks. I think this service was made for them, not women already in streetwear, and that makes sense because at the end of the day, there’s more of them and Nike wants their money.”

Nike’s ad campaign for the 1 Reimagined series, which launched in January. Nike

She wishes sneaker culture weren’t so oriented around men’s fashion, leaving her without many resources for figuring out how to style her shoes with full outfits. But she doesn’t see Unlaced as much of a solution. “By adding the extended sizes, it’s like Nike is saying ‘doesn’t matter your gender, we can all rock dope kicks!’ But the rest of the features are kinda saying ‘females are different and they have different shopping needs and we need to treat them different and special’ and I don’t like that. I don’t want to see other companies do that.”

Stefanie Knoblich, a 22-year-old redditor from Germany, echoes her, saying, “I don’t see a point in Nike trying to make sneaker culture more appealing for women … women are an equal part in sneaker culture. What these companies could do to improve things is to sell every sneaker in every size.” Callie Fontana, a 22-year-old streetwear redditor from Baton Rouge, says sneaker companies spend too much time trying to “make all their sneakers pink, and what their idea of ‘feminine’ is.”

She adds, “I think both sneaker companies and sneaker culture media should just strive to make sneakers be unisex.”

I’m loath to oversimplify, but it sounds like the solution this whole time has been: Just sell the same sneakers in every size? Yeah, just sell the same sneakers in every size.

Original Source -> Nike is finally taking women who love sneakers seriously

via The Conservative Brief

#IFTTT #The Conservative Brief

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facesofopioids-blog · 6 years

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undefined

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💜💙💚This Post Can Be Shared!💚💙💜 Spotlight Sunday "Escaping the Shadows" By: Amanda Skye My name is Amanda and I was born in California on June 30th 1990. To protect the information of family, I will not get into too much detail about my early years aside from key components that lead to the decisions I made as an adolescent. My parents had 4 children, my two older brothers, me and my sister. We were raised in a drug filled home and my parents struggled to feed us. My aunt, uncle and grandparents did their best to help where they could but ultimately both of my parents were hooked on methamphetamines so you can imagine, it wasn’t the best upbringing. In 1995, my grandparents moved us all to New Jersey. My sister and I lived with them for a while until my parents were able to afford an apartment for all of us. They got off of the meth at this point. We moved to Franklin NJ where I was made fun of for being overweight and wearing dirty hand me downs. My brothers both being a few years older than me, made friends and began partying. My sister and I were the best of friends. I smoked weed with my oldest brother at around age 9. By the age of 11, I was blacked out drunk for the first time. It didn’t take long for me to get involved with the wrong crowds and activities. I hung out with other kids who couldn’t quite find their place and we would get high on whatever was available. At around age 13 I had a flashback. I stopped in place and spaced out remembering horrible details of being molested by my dad. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but I still can’t explain where such vivid memories came from. After some digging around, I found out that these memories were in fact true and was still living in a home with the man who did this to me. My father passed away last year on August 20th 2017. I do not want to speak ill of him but I also am tired of keeping my story a secret. This is my first post admitting what he did to me for strangers to read. I can’t recall each time that it happened, but he wasn’t the only one. I had been sexually abused many times before I hit my teens. Like any person would, this lead to me acting out, cutting myself, failing all of my classes and becoming your typical “product of her environment.” I hated my dad and on top of the abuse he’d already put me through, he was also mentally and physically abusive as well. By the time I was 18, I had done handfuls of different drugs but had some how turned all of my grades around and graduated high school with honors. In 2009, my dad moved to North Carolina and this is where things really went down hill. After graduation, I no longer had choir (which was basically what had kept me motivated to stay in school) my house became the party house it always was when my dad wasn’t around, but this time there was no stopping it. I had been doing opiate pain pills not realizing the affect they were having on my life. I thought I could stop at anytime. I met a guy in December 2009 who introduced me to heroin. I cried my first time sniffing it because I knew what I was about to do to my life but I couldn’t stop myself. I was shooting up within a week. That relationship was not only physically abusive, but I was sure he would kill me. When I’d try to leave, he would hurt my animals, try to drive my car into on coming traffic or beat me so bad that I would stay. He once threatened “I could kill you and no one will ever find your body.” One day I had had enough and I escaped him. I turned myself into jail on warrants I had accumulated to make sure I stayed away from him. I thought for sure with him out of the picture that I would stop using heroin. I was wrong. My addiction grew even more fierce. At this point I was about 22 years old. My family and I were evicted from yet another apartment and my mother, brother and I decided to make our way to New York. We found a shelter to reside in for a while, and I was able to stay away from dope for the most part, but it didn’t last long. Fast forward, I found myself in yet another toxic relationship (he did not abuse me) where we were constantly getting high together. I bounced around from place to place, state to state, shelter to shelter. Till eventually all of my luck ran out and I wound up homeless. I milked my mom for every penny that she had, would throw fits and threaten her if she didn’t give me cash or bribe her anyway I could. A lot of my story is jumbled at this point because it would be very hard to go in depth about all of these years. After a lot of hardship and pain, that boyfriend and I decided sleeping on the streets was our best option, no rules, we made hella money panhandling and it was still kind of warm out. The weather started to change and it got colder and colder, the money started to stop being as good and the next thing I knew, I was crying everyday of my life wondering how I was going to continue living that way. The highlight of everyday was praying I had enough of a cotton shot left to get me through long enough to pan handle some money to cop. Waking up was so hard. It was soooooo cold. We would bundle ourselves under the blankets people donated to us and breathe in them to produce heat. We were sleeping on a mattress that we dragged from Brooklyn to Manhattan in a park by the Brooklyn bridge. Every day I’d wake up cursing God for waking me up again. Getting out of those blankets was horrific. I’d be so dope sick that I’d have to get up, find a tree to urinate as well as defacate behind, while bystanders walked all over the place. It was humiliating. I had stooped to the lowest of low and saw no way of making it out. I contemplated my suicide daily. I nearly got frost bite on my feet from walking around in shoes a size to small that were soaked from the snow. We would sometimes try to sleep in the subway station when it rained or snowed but would be woken up by police saying we had to get out. One day we had gone to go cop some dope. It was January 21st 2015. I was so dope sick that I could hardly walk so my at the time boyfriend went to get the dope while I waited in front of a bodega near the projects we shot up in. A man with the kindest eyes I have ever seen approached me and began to ask me my story. I lied to his face, but he was persistent. He eventually got my story out of me and took two pictures along with it. I had no idea this guy was well known and had a blog/page called Humans of New York. Long story short my photos and story went viral. The people who didn’t know the truth now did and I found out when a young girl approached me as I was panhandling in the subway station. “You’re the girl from humans of New York!” Confused and embarrassed I asked what she was talking about, she then proceeded to show me my photos that had gone viral. I was livid and mortified. That day we went with the little money we had collected and were on our way to cop. While sitting on the subway platform I began to plot my suicide. I was crying but could no longer feel. I was numb. I was weighing out my options, either I jump in front of the next subway that comes through, or I continue on living a miserable life. My mind was made up. I pictured my mom identifying my body, how much pain I would cause my family and thought about what I would never get to do. In the midst of that pain, God reached out to me and I felt a glimmer of hope. I decided in that moment that tomorrow was no longer an option, I was going to a state funded detox. I explained it to my boyfriend and told him I couldn’t wait anymore. I shot up that night looking for a vein for 45 minutes as blood gushed down my arm. He looked at me and said “you’re really done aren’t you?” I didn’t have to answer his question. I went into a detox where I stayed for 6 days. As soon as I got out, I was high again. I decided to look at the comments on my photos and all of the horrible and mean comments were replaced with strangers telling me they believed in me and offering hope. Among 15,000 comments I came across one from a woman who owned her own treatment center. She offered to fly me out to California and help me for free. I agreed but still had a hard time believing I would go through with it. I postponed for about 4 days and in those days I drank, shot heroin and cried. My last shot of heroin was on 2/7/2015. The next day I was flown to California. My life has completely changed. I had some bumps in the road with my behaviors but ultimately did not relapse at all. I stuck with it, got involved in my program and started working. I have been able to build a life I never thought I would have. As I shared in a previous post, I lost my brother Michael to an overdose on 3/12/2017. I did not get high. I wanted to but I did not. I miss him everyday of my life. I try to live sober in his memory. 5 months later my dad died from lung cancer. I had been able to forgive him and my last words To him just days before he died were that I loved him. I was able to be there to help my family through both of these tragedies. I was able to show countless others that there is no reason to get high again. I was able to prove to MYSELF that I am worth it. I have 3.5 years completely sober. I have a daughter due any day now and a wonderful boyfriend, home and relationships with my family. I call to check on them. I work in recovery and am blessed to be able to live a sober life without the need for drugs or alcohol. Some days are hard, just because you get sober does not mean life gets easy. In fact, it gets harder. Adulting is tough, walking through deaths of loved ones is horrific but I feel so much more accomplished than I ever have in my life. Today I live for so much more. I may not be perfect but I like who I am. Recovery isn’t easy but it’s 100% worth it. Sorry for the length of this story but it feels good to let it out. Thank you for taking the time to read this and god bless everyone. If you’re still struggling, you can make it out too. Never give up. https://m.facebook.com/groups/1685500114824029?view=permalink&id=2331108240263210

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mobbtown-blog1 · 6 years

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errica Benton awoke to the sound of short waves breaking against smooth rocks on the Pier 6 Pavilion. She yawned and flounced her hair, balancing out the streams of Starburst and Carnation extensions tangled together after last night’s impromptu pillow fight with her bandmates; Kimber, Aja, and Rayna collectively known as, The Holograms. The day before, Jerrica as her alter ego, Jem, performed at the pavilion with her band and was now spending the weekend held up in the Ritz-Carlton Estates, occupying the penthouse condos previously inhabited by bestselling book writer, Tom Clancy. Jerrica slinked out of the Queen sized bed careful not to disturb the other inhabitants; she stood in bay window overlooking the harbor replaying sections of last night’s show in her head. She was pleased with the laser and smoke filled spectacle and decided to reward herself with a bump of “Bolivian Marching Powder”. A small yet non-committal indulgence she picked up in Central America while fighting for the rights of migrant farmers and plantation worker in the Coca Fields of Ecuador. Jerrica looked over at the bed intent on waking her posse to start the day and use her bump to its fullest advantage. However, the bed was empty. She checked the bedside alarm clock, it was noon, far later than she hoped but still enough time to get her life in the Charm City. She ruffled the sheets and thought to herself; “They must have gotten up early and hit up Blue Moon for brunch. I hope they bring me back an order of Captain Crunch French Toast. I wonder if the French know about French Toast; Do the French get royalties every time someone says French Toast? Oh my God, Do I owe the French Money for saying French Toast a million times? O.k. if I stop saying French Toast now maybe my debt won’t be so high. Where are these bitches?” Jerrica reached under the bed and pulled out a designer high heel shoe; from it, she retrieved a small Silver Star shaped earring. She pressed the amulet into her lobe and gave it a tug; a familiar cybernetic voice filled the palatial waterfront estate. “Hello, Jerrica.” “Hey, Synergy; incredible show last night, you almost surged the power grid, though. Be careful with your use of light balance next time, we almost left the city in complete darkness.” “As if Baltimore isn’t already dark enough,” Bantered Synergy. “Excuse me?” Jem perplexed. “The temped climate change due to excessive humidity in the area causes an extended amount of overcast in the mid-Atlantic region thereby blocking out the sun throughout large portions of the day. What did you think I meant.” “That, I thought you meant that, and I was right, because I’m good at Meteorology.”

“Jerrica, I’m afraid there has been a bit of a kerfuffle.” “Yeah, I know, The Holograms rolled out and got brunch without me. Don’t these heifers know who they came here with? I mean I do two things when I’m out on tour; I shut down shows and I open up brunches, I mean I put the “B” in Bellini. “My life is so odd right now and I guess that’s why I just can’t even.” “Jerrica, I assure you, the holograms are not at brunch. They have been kidnapped by an unknown assailant and jettisoned off to Hunger Island as tribute to, Katniss Everdean.” “What the flip?” “She heard about the “Jem movie” and is intent on sabotaging the property. She plans on force feeding the girls and killing them with calories.” “It’s just a movie we can all premier at the Cineplex and fill seats. Nothing wrong with little friendly competition.” “That’s just it, Jerrica, Katniss mind has been so warped by the Hunger Games tributes that she now views any form of competition as a mortal threat. Anything she views as an impediment to her success, she must destroy.” “Katniss Everdean must be stopped. I have to save my friends, but how am I supposed to save my girls without the help of my girls?” “Not to worry, Jerrica, I’ve called in some backup to aid you on your mission.” “Well don’t be shy, tell me who it is, ooh is it the Battle Beasts? Is it Action Man? He’s so macho. He makes my queso ooze. “Actually, Jerrica, you’ll be receiving support from you old adversaries, The Misfits.” “The Misfits, why them, they don’t have a horse in this race?” “Actually, it was Roxy who proposed the team up; she’s still indebted to Ban-Nee for teaching her how to read. That and Stormer teamed up with your sister Kimber some time ago and released an album. Pitchfork gave it an 8 of 10.” “I don’t read Pitchfork; the writing is a bit too bloated for my taste. They tend to write as if their review is far more important that its subject matter and that turns me off.” “Jerrica, even the group’s leader, Pizzazz is committed to the cause. Although she doesn’t particularly care for you, she seems to harbor an even deeper animosity toward Katniss.”

“That’s all well and good, but I’m not sure I feel comfortable teaming up with the Misfits. They think their songs are better than mine.” “Oh, Darling, Jem, their songs are better, but you are far more glamorous, and your glamour makes you; truly, truly, truly …OUTRAEGOUS! “Now Jerrica you must morph into Jem, team up with the Misfits; fly to Hunger Island, and save your friends from Trans fatty fatality. Are you ready?” “Send all my calls direct to voice mail, I gotta go rescue my bitches.” Jerrica gives her amulet another brisk swipe, her body emits pulsing neon light as luminous as a quasar erupting in the Milky Way Pavilion. With her new formed alliance she is Jem and the Misfits, and on this day they will; Taste the Hunger. “I wonder if Eric has anything to do with this; he could be the unknown assailant. He’s always involved in some crazy scheme to sabotage me off the board and steal my half of the Starlight Music Company. I don’t know why he wants this company so bad he doesn’t know anything about music. I guess that doesn’t make him any different than any other music exec.” Jem snickers to herself and rubs her pointer finger across the glass dinner table, and inspects the tiny pearl flakes stuck to her finger tip. “No blow left behind.” She wipes the residue across her gums in anticipation of the Misfits arrival. The penthouse elevator chimes the doors open and out spill its contents; Roxy (Guitar), Jetta (Sax), Stormer (Keytar), and Pizzazz (lead vocals). “Hi girls,” “Don’t say hi to me, Say thank you,” Sneered Pizzazz, the group’s leader and Jem’s mortal adversary. “Thank you” “You got us a lift out to Hunger Island, or do you need us to hold your hand through that too?” Synergy interjects. “G.I. Joe Staff Sargent Roadblock is gonna give you an airlift in the Eagle Hawk Helicopter. He’s on the roof now.” “Wait, let me grab my sunglasses.” “You won’t need sun glasses when you travel with me, because Pizzazz brings plenty shade.” “O.k. well I definitely need to find my phone so I can live tweet what you just said.” “Status updated,” intoned Synergy. The girls ascend the elevator to the roof and are greeted by the decorated officer award winning chef and all around jovial guy: “Roadblock is here and it’s clear to see/ that you need a ride so come along with me/ Put on your seat belt and your parachute/ but you don’t need to wear a helmet cause your hair looks cute/ don’t be a litter bug, girls/ knowledge! “And knowing is half the battle,” Cheered Stormer. The girls all took a Xanax and pretty much slept through the 8 hour helicopter ride to Hunger Island. They conveniently awoke within a two minute eta, enough time to receive landing instructions from Roadblock; Use your parachutes to land after the ride/ when your boots hit the ground you’ll meet your guide/ Good luck on your journey, I’m sure you’ll win/ I hope to see you again/ before we get to Heaven/ I’m a Lutheran ya’ll/ Faith!

The girls floated safely to the ground nestled in a redolent tropical field of lush island frutex. They dumped their shoots, teased their hair, took a few selfies and updated their Instagram accounts. “Made it to the Island in one piece”: Hash Tag; • blessed • free rap concert • free the holograms • roadblock raps like them old heads from the70’s • can’t even believe this island has Wi-Fi • if there’s a Starbucks on this island im staying • My stage name is Pizzazz but My Street Name Is Rohypnol Cause I Stay Knocking Dumb Hoes Out and Fuckin they ass up. • No homo. • I wonder if this island breeds small dogs As the girls tuck their phones away and begin their trek, a soft glow of light beams through the tree tops, intercepting the girls’ slow procession. “Hello, Ladies, I’m actor, writer, director, and now temporal tropical tour guide, Phillip Seymour Hoffman.” “I’m here to guide you, because im featured in the Hunger Games trilogy, so I’m quite familiar with the terrain, and I’m also a blue chip actor usually employed to give mediocre storylines artistic credibility, like the Film, Almost Famous, and the story you’re in right now. “Phillip Seymour Hoffman, you dead right?” asked Jetta. “Yes. I am dead.” “Yeah, I read about you, because I recently learned how to read. They found you in an apartment in Tribeca, right?” quizzes Roxy. “No, it was Chelsea.” Hoffman stated ruefully “You were surrounded by what, like, 50 bags of dope, some shit like that?” “Well, yeah something like that,” he stumbles over his words foolishly. “’50 bags of heroine is a lot of fuckin dope, you buy your shit from Sam’s Club or something?” “Did you think they was gonna stop making dope after they sold you yours.” “Did your dope dealer not have change for a 1000 dollar bill so you just bought it all?” “Alright I get it, I bought too much dope, and obviously I did, because I’m dead now. O.k.? So can we just move on and get this over with please? I’m trying to help you save your friends life!” “I appreciate all the help and everything Phil, I really do, but I just don’t see myself following a fucking junkie through a jungle. Oliver Stone wrote three movie about that shit and none of them end well so I’m gonna respectfully request that you jump back in whatever shallow grave you hopped your pale ass out of cause Pizazz can’t fuck with you, I loved you in Capote, though. Keep your ass moving on through to that other side, baby boy. “ “Oh, my God Pizzazz, he was our only way around the Island, Why did you run him off like that?” “I mean we don’t have a map or anything, we gonna die on this Island like those kids in that book I was supposed to read in middle school, but I didn’t cause I was still illiterate back then” whined Roxy. “That fat jerk was gonna sell us into white slavery the first chance he got. Besides we don’t need no week man telling us where to go and what to do. Shit the island has Wi-Fi. Just pull out your phone go to the google home screen the nearest me browser is gonna pop up. In that search bar put in kidnapping. And boom three kilometers that way. Just then a camouflage Jeep crashes furiously through the bush. The driver adorned with long blond silky trestles’ flowing downs his back and across his German issue naval officer blouse hops rapaciously from the driver’s seat and advances on the girls. “Need a lift old friend?” “Riot?” Jem says pensively. “Jem is it?” Riot says casually. “It is,” she says with obviously inflection. “Or is it Jerrica?” He says haughtily; as he laughs with arrogant conviction. A collective gasp falls over the cluster of girls. Jem is caught off guard and before she has time to deny the claim her face tells a truth her words could no longer hide. “But how,” she asks still shell shocked. I’ve always known who you were Jerrica. Many years ago when you were just a little girl I knew your father. We were inventers and visionaries. We partnered up and created the Synergy technology together. It took many years to complete and during that time I became close to you and your father, you in particular, Jerrica. I took you to the park, I taught you how to ride a bike I helped you with your schoolwork. As you got older my feelings matured into something deeper, more complex, something I could not quite process. At the same time my feeling for you were maturing the Synergy project was also coming to fruition. I was proud of the project and I wanted to share it with the world. The advancements were unlimited, but you father had other plans. He wanted to keep the project secret and use it for more ethical practices whereas I wanted to mine it for its commercial value. We were at an impasse and instead of fighting I left with my half of the research. I kept the telecommunication half and he kept the light manipulation half. “Wendell Wasserman, my dad’s doting assistant, I remember you. You were a kind man, leery, but sweet. You just up and disappeared when I was 14. What happened to you?” I moved back to Austria, sold my half of the Synergy technology to a Japanese mobile communication firm. I got a facelift. I changed my name; started a glam rock band-Pink Lipstick. We had an international top ten hit. Maybe you’ve heard of it…”Walk you home from school” “Walk you home from School, I remember that song. She recites a few bars… I watched you grow up as a baby in your father’s arms Then you grew into a lady and fell under my charms I want to fall into you when I Walk you home from school “Oh my god was that song about me?” “Yes Jerrica, It was about you, it was always about you. I moved back; started a new band-The Stingers, I even grew this luxurious flaxen mane and still you rebuff me at every turn. Well the honeymoon is over baby! I want that Synergy technology and I want it now or you and you friends will die. Just then a righteous arrow pierces the sky. And lands square in the heart of Riot. “Oh shit, I got blood in my succulent hair, and I think I’m dying…nope…I’m dead, yeah, I’m definitely dead. “ “Katniss Everdean” I presume. Hissed Pizzazz. “Was it the bow and the arrow that gave me away?” “I only asked because I could not tell you in person from your movie posters, they make you appear much more, slender, than you really are. I was worried about your health. It’s such a relief to see, in abundance, that your thighs really, do touch.” “Yes, they do, just like my two, Golden Globes.” “Ah, Miss Everdean are you gonna force feed us a ton of carbs? I really don’t want to fuck my diet up.” Stormer asked. “Ah, no that was all that twisted pedophile, Riots plan, he kidnapped me too. He didn’t try anything too direct just a lot of foot baths, finger and toe nail polishing, and he brushed my hair three times a day. When he saw you all flying in he dashed out here and that’s when a nest of Mocking Jays came and loosened me from my bindings. I followed Riot here, and well you saw the rest. Hey you guys wanna watch My Little Pony Friendship is Magic?” “There’s cable and internet on this Island too?!?” squealed Jetta, because it’s been a while since she had a line. “No, well yeah, but, Riot also kidnapped The My Little Pony crew. They’re outback with the Holograms frolicking in a waterfall made of rainbow sprinkles. “ “Oh, my god he was gonna make the girls eat the My Little Ponies, gross.” Conjectured Stormer. “Guy’s I’m sorry I never told you all that I’m both Jem and Jerrica” Pizzazz, finger combed her hair, briskly turning a side eye glance to her arch rival and smirked. “Bitch, we knew.”

The End. Jem and the Misfits “Taste the Hunger” Written By Mike Smith [email protected]

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paretoblog-blog · 7 years

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How to Buy Casual Shirts for Men

Streetwear - assume australian streetwear brands Pharrell Williams or Kanye West - two icons of the streetwear look and two people who are persistently noted on any "best dressed" record. Opposite to some stereotypes related to hip-hop trend, streetwear these days, is a clear, tailored look, just with a special, laidback vibe than mainstream style. Though a casual graphic t-shirt is an essential streetwear merchandise, throwing a blazer on prime is a fast, sharp-trying way to gown things up, a pattern that has been absorbed by the mens streetwear shoes mainstream.

If we needed to strip streetwear all the way down to any gadgets, I'd say a dope pair of denims, a pleasant t-shirt and a clean pair of kicks. It's a blend of skateboard and sneaker culture. Everyone had a pair of Jordans and that helped foster the sneaker motion. That love for Michael Jordan, and his footwear, laid the framework for a look that has melted collectively as every separate model has advanced on its own after which as one. Following designer shirts for men the lineage of streetwear will lead you down a number of different roads. The foundations had been laid in the late 1970s, with the initiation of hip-hop and the urban wear that accompanied the attitudes and way of life of the music; then gained traction within the Nineteen Eighties, when surfboard designer Stussy created an underground line, skate-pleasant clothes, which went mainstream as skateboarding surged in popularity.

So where does streetwear go from right here? As with different fashion genres, traits ebb and stream; evolve and dissipate. Huge, dishevelled clothes has developed right into a more couture-sort fit, while busy patterns have shifted into solid colors. As for the future here on The City Store co.uk, it is exhausting to predict however, the previous few years have had an eighties theme; people wearing skinny-sort jeans, classic Levis, rave colors and throughout prints, however now it should be more clear, easy

In order to appeal to the youthful technology quite a lot of the designers are starting to create clothing lines that are able to supply a extra 'road' aesthetic and enchantment. pareto Streetwear is a highly appealing model influenced by hip-hop, skateboarding, and 80s nostalgia and is of particular curiosity to the teenagers and younger adults. Typically, it has been the hip-hop influence that has helped see the major enhance in the popularity of the streetwear impressed clothing lines.

Streetwear provides an ideal alternative the youngsters and young adults to stay in contact with the latest style traits and keep up-to-date with the adjustments happening on the road. Streetwear as a trend type has been extremely common for a major time, with earliest forms of this clothing line going again to the early 1990s. It is usually a popular choice of clothes all internationally, from Europe, US, Asia, Africa, and lots of different areas of the world.

Even though you might properly find this clothing line to be quite expensive, especially with some of the more unique collections, it is not always essential to pay excessive cost if you recognize where to shop for essentially the most engaging prices. On the whole, there are several ways to assist entice essentially the most competitive charges in the market, and would possibly include:

Buying out of season - If you wish to stay in touch with the road aesthetic, but favor to keep away from the high costs with the initial launch costs, you might need to store for clothing lines after they start to attain the top of the season. Typically with the top of season lines the costs are diminished to make way for the most recent stock to reach in store, so a t-shirt or jacket that was at fall worth just some weeks in the past might now be fairly affordable to buy.

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All in all, if you need a assorted and huge collection of streetwear clothing and accessories, you'll certainly discover quite a lot of highly enticing objects which could be found at nice prices if the time is spent looking the best costs obtainable.

You do not realise how good the buying is in Glasgow until you spend a day trekking its streets, if, you could have come from wherever outdoors of London, you'll love what Glasgow has to supply, extra shops than anywhere and loads of good streetwear stores, properly 3, but nonetheless good.

I've determined to listing my top eleven shops, those I would visit when out purchasing, point out my competition i Wikipedia Here hear you say, yes, I do say, the more individuals who realise Glasgow is the No1 buying vacation spot the better.

1. TK Maxx on Sauchiehall St (prime finish) is the place you will discover bargains if your fortunate, if not you'll find nothing of interest, I bought an incredible pair of Brown Leather-based Air Max for ?25 18 months ago, only now starting to crumble, however the comfiest shoes ever. Additionally acquired a terrific case for after I'm on my travels, snazzy 'lil thing for a lot cheapness.

2. Subsequent on Tub road is the city legend that is Fats Buddha, Vinyl Toys, Graffiti Supplies, Lifestyle and Clothes by manufacturers like Carhartt, The A whole bunch, Kikstyo, Recon, navigate to this blog Penfield, Zoo York, Volcom, Nike, Dc's, Reebok. Voted greatest store in Glasgow by an unbiased panel of my family, however worth the visit, simply to see the shop canine Maisie.

three. Goodlife is across the highway from Fat Buddha and is uber-expensive but it's Glasgow's only Excessive end Streetwear Boutique after all, promoting mens streetwear clothing uk Original Fake & Alife, good mix of manufacturers in such a small place, but the retailer has its following, coming from a far for its model combine.

Not sure the exact story, however it looks like Goodlife has closed its doors.

four On Buchanan st you'll find this company whore that's Urban Outfitters, in sale time there are nice bargains to be had, real mixture of manufacturers in right here, and a number of the dwelling-wares are not to be sniffed at, price a go to.

In case you are American or visited considered one of these shops in America you may be stunned how poor the British model is in comparison with the American, completely different brand mix, horrible staff and no atmosphere.

5. Further down Buchanan st you will find Hugo Boss, I love this store, for years now i still like to go to it, great layout and a few their explanation good product, wonderful fits and boy do they match like they need to. Glasgow's first real designer title on Buchanan St, go visit.

I virtually bought the managers job in right here many many moons ago, however it wasn't to be, pretty shop nonetheless.

6. Just round the corner you'll find Aspecto, this lads retailer, only place for Stussy, and good for Adidas, Carhartt, North Face & Camper, Y3, Evisu and the like. Nice shopfit, looked nice at the time, so price a go to.

7. You need trainers, the place else to go than Size on Union Road, huge retailer with good vary of apparel, the perfect store in Glasgow for footwear, except the footwear are uncommon, then the workers get first shout on them. That is the place for footwear, the 2 Chris's all the time have a smile for you.

8. All the time a sucker for Shops, and House of Frasers all the time hits the spot, the cookware dept rocks, Menswear has now relocated to the primary floor and a ton of money was spent on it, now it is the GREATEST mens clothing area tank top made from men's underwear in Glasgow by a mile, the Paul Smith part is gorgeous and once more the Paul Smith part is beautiful, great wallets and saving up for the headscarf just now. Frasers is value an hour or so of your time, its just of Argyle St.

9. Footlocker, just at Argyle St is where your Jordan craving will be satisfied, good number of nikes, esp Air Stabs, good range of clothes and a separate girl's floor make this a vacation spot not to be missed. Footlocker is at all times a should visit place for sneakerheads.

10. Focus are on Argyle St and Glasgows sole Nike SB stockist, different manufacturers include Diamond, Supra, Krew, Cliche. Skateboards are Focus's forte and so they serve Pareto mens streetwear the Glasgow market well, they've a superb repute now and go to it just for an Obey t/shirt. Good workers and a pleasant ambiene make this a worthy addition to my listing.

eleven. Lastly you may walk not far away from Focus and discover Cruise on Ingram St, a legend in Glasgow and nonetheless doing what it does best, feeding manufacturers to the plenty, CP Company, Stone Island, Y3, BBC make a go to essential. Beautiful Shopfit as well, seize a Paul Smith wallet whereas your there.

It is crazy to not do your clothes and accessory purchasing on-line. No matter your style, you'll find more of what you want and cheaper on-line than you will https://www.pareto-clo.com within the retailers. Throughout the board, from high style manufacturers that are featured in Vogue to urban grunge like Volcom, you'll find it online.

Imagine being in Tokyo, New York and London all of sudden. That is what purchasing online is like. You'll find everything there, but you do not even have to go away your home.

You know you're going to be on-line rather a lot anyway, so why not get essentially the most out of it. Tear your self away from the gossip websites and take a look at a great on-line street or surfwear outlet. You won't believe how a lot stuff these guys have got to promote.

The nice websites make it straightforward so that you can discover what you want. They have an easily navigable homepage, for starters. Say you are just on the lookout for a T-shirt. Scroll down the sidebar and click on the T-shirts hyperlink and you will have dozens of brands and hundreds of T's to select from.

Maybe you want a selected brand and do not want to trouble with the others. Just do a search or click on on the model name. Is not that easier than shuffling by way of the racks at your downtown store?

What happens once you're shopping in a "real" store? You are looking for a brand new hoodie, so you go to the hooded sweatshirt racks and rummage via them till you either find what you want or do not. On a busy day, you'll be preventing for a spot at the display racks, too.

Now take into consideration how simple it is to buy on-line. You just click on on an icon or text hyperlink that claims "hoodies and sweats." If it is Volcom you want, you may click on that brand funny mens tank tops and check out the complete range of their gear and simply find exactly the hoodie you need. You may definitely have extra to choose from than you'll even at the very best downtown retailer.

What about worth? Doesn't transport expense make procuring on-line more expensive? Take into consideration the overheads related to having a storefront and evaluate that with Here is Social Profile the overheads that a web-based store has. Regardless of the place you live, getting your gear on-line will almost surely be cheaper than shopping for from the outlets.

There are a number of essential issues a person needs to consider when shopping for clothes: fashion, consolation, and worth are three of the most important elements. Sometimes, an individual might want to costume up for a special day and must be a bit choosier in what she or he wears, however round ninety% of the time, an individual can wear pretty much anything she or he desires. Whether or not working errands, hanging out with friends, and even lounging round the home, an individual ought to attempt to discover inexpensive, snug clothes that he or she likes to wear.

Most of a person's wardrobe most definitely falls below the category of streetwear. Streetwear consists of casual garments that they feel comfortable sporting just about wherever. Basically, if an individual isn't dressed up, the clothes they are carrying could in all probability be thought-about this model, too. Many people have totally different styles, but one thing remains constant: round ninety% of the people out in a social setting are carrying denims and both t-shirts or hoodies. These are examples of outfits that would be considered streetwear.

The definition of streetwear covers a big selection of clothes, and there are lots of brands, categories, and worth ranges of clothes to select from. In addition to brand names, there are thousands of totally different styles of clothes on the market. Corporations make emblem t-shirts and hoodies with hundreds, if not hundreds, of various designs. From company streetwear shops logos, to elaborate display printed designs, to single color t-shirts, there are designs on the market for everyone's tastes in style. Some people enjoy sporting darker, toned down, earthy garments while others take pleasure in carrying extraordinarily vibrant colors, it's all a matter of private desire however there are decisions for everybody.

In addition to t-shirts and hoodies, there are also many different corporations that make quite a lot of totally different designs of jeans. From model new, immaculate, crisp trying denim denims to pre-worn, stone washed, mens streetwear blog distressed denims, there are denims on the market for anyone's fashion. Along with various kinds of jeans, there are additionally many alternative matches of denims, from relaxed match, to tight match, to boot lower.

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mrmulattojones · 7 years

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8, 18, 28, 38, 48, 58, 68, 78, 88, 98

8. Which artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?I usually use poetry, but every now and then, I'll write something in prose and it'll work just as well to get that shit out of my system.18. Tell us something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought upI became full deadass when I went to New York! I bought some Tims (Timberland shoes for the unaware) that I thought were pretty fucking dope. As soon as I put them on, the world looked different, B. I started talkin and walkin like I was from Brooklyn or Queens (it honestly fluctuated depending on who I was talking to and how hyped I was about where we were going) in the 90s. Now my boii Luis and I just call each other "Shun" (=son) when we see each other.28. Sunrise or sunset?FUCK. Ummm.....I'm gonna go with sunset. Don't get me wrong, I love the way sunrise looks in the fall/winter - often, there are clouds blocking the sun so that orange/red light, moves around them and it's just gorgeous. However, sunset throughout the year is fan-fucking-tastic because in fall and winter, the days are shorter which means I'm more likely to get more sleep, and in spring and summer, it gets cooler as the sun goes down. 38. Tell us about your pet peeves.I honestly have a lot; I'm not about to go into detail about 'em, lest I offend some good people who mean no harm lmao48. What was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same as today?Yes and no. When I was a kid, I was afraid of the dark, clowns, dolls, and the Ring.I was afraid of the dark because one time there was this anime I was watching (it looked like Inuyasha but I swear it couldn't have been because he had black hair and I don't think Kagome was in it and I've long since been unable to find it) and the villain in this particular anime was a mass of darkness, that could literally come out of shadows/manipulate darkness. Shit bugged the fuck outta me.Now not so much. In fact, I keep my room in a constant state of darkness - provided I'm not reading.I was afraid of clowns because of the miniseries It, and because there's something not right about a grown ass man in some fuckin make up trying to be the campiest of funny for little kids. That shit still scares me. I'll straight murder a clown, b.FUCKING DOLLS, YO. Dolls were the bane of my existence. My mom had this small porcelain dolls - that also coincidentally looked like clowns - and I swear those motherfuckers would be looking at me every time I walked in my room. (Side note: my mom and I lived with my grandparents for a while when I was like aged 7-10 and we had to share a room.) Anyways, them shits were terrifying because of their frozen faces and their glossy eyes and their GOD DAMN CLOWN COSTUMES FUCK THOSE GOD DAMN DOLLS. But I also hated dolls because of Chucky and I feel like that's a valid reason. Basically what I'm saying is, I'm not too terrified of dolls anymore, but if it's dressed like a clown, I ain't fuckin with it.The Ring. This chick made me terrified to watch blockbuster movies, b! Then, I was terrified to close my eyes when in the shower because of that one scene where the lady is washing her hair and the fucking hand comes through the drain and the water turns black (I'm pretty sure that was in the ring, it's been so long since I've watched it, which reminds me, I should probably get that too) 8 year old me was terrified. Now, I don't really give a shit lmao58. Who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? Why?Oh the Vodka Aunt is easy, that's my best friend Luis. That sack of shit just fucking looooooves his vodka. Only hard liquor he'll drink.The wine mom though, is kind of....difficult to pin down. I'd say it would be his fiancé, but idk if she's heavy into wine or not.68. What's winter like where you live?Man, you know where I live! Lmao, winter here is weak. Doesn't rain like it should, it's just a humid chill.78. Are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?I used to be on the hateclub, but now I'm pretty indifferent. I think people just went overboard with it.88. Are there any artistic movements you enjoy?The 20's basically: Surrealism, Cubism (artistically), jazz (musically)The 60s: a good portion of Postmodern art and sculpure, i.e. Collage, photographyThe 90s: the Hip-Hop movement, which includes but is not limited to breakdancing culture, graffiti culture, and obviously the music genre.Now: street art. The documentary "Exit Through the Gift Shop" kind of hit me at a pivotal moment in high school, definitely recommend it to those who haven't seen it.98. When's the last time you went hiking? Did you enjoy it?I was 10 years old, went hiking with my cousin and his dad. I don't remember where, but in retrospect it probably wasn't that big of hike, it was like a medium sized hill. I remember thinking that the trail up was so long, and I was wondering when we would come back down. I remember thinking that I was not in the proper hiking attire: baggy jeans, a polo, a fitted hat and some brand new Jordan's (that got fucked up due to the hike) was NOT what should've been worn, and I was pretty mad lmaoI don't remember the way down, but I remember the way up, and when we got to the top, we saw the city, and it was the most beautiful thing I'd seen. I fell in love with the view of the skyline and how the sun kissed the rooftops as it began its descent with an orange tint in the clear blue sky. I remember thinking "damn, I put all that work in for this? Worth it!"

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