#also thanks to avi for the brushes they were really fun to use on this !!!

[lucasoliko]

Javier painting study because i haven't painted anything in months (and because i love him)

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva is worried about Soonyoung. They learn something new about Yoongi.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. (TW: drinking and vomiting mention) [Masterlist]

Interlude 2: Crossroads Pt. 1

STAR - Jessi

“Road to success but my vision foggy

Thought the rain would never stop”

January 2012

Soonyoung’s birthday was on the first. She threw herself a big party that Aviva tried her best to be engaged in, though she felt more in her element giving Soonyoung painkillers and birthday cake the next morning.

However, as the new year continued, Soonyoung was out more and more partying. She had always been social, but Aviva was worried about the impact it would have on her training.

And then Aviva woke up one night to find Soonyoung throwing up over the toilet. She held back Soonyoung’s hair silently. She made Soonyoung a cup of tea, and tentatively brought up her concerns.

“So what?” Soonyoung said, as they sat on the bathroom floor together. “It’s not like they’re ever planning on debuting me. They have all these younger, prettier female trainees at the affiliate companies now.”

“First of all, even if they’re pretty, doesn’t mean you’re not,” Aviva told her. “Second of all, have you talked to them? Talk to Chief Youngjin or Bang-PDnim.”

Soonyoung shook her head, closing her eyes slightly.

“I don’t care.”

Aviva frowned. “How can you not care? It’s always been your dream.”

Soonyoung sighed. “Maybe I’m just growing up and realizing most people don’t get to fulfill their childhood dreams. I feel like I’m struggling against the tide, Avi. And you know I’ve never been good at swimming.”

“Then I’m getting you floaties,” Aviva muttered determinedly. Soonyoung laughed.

“Keep the floaties for yourself, darling. You know there isn’t room for two people on that piece of wood.”

Aviva groaned. “Fuck the Titantic, you know I hate that movie. We’re getting through this together. You’ll see.”

A few days later, Soonyoung called Aviva late in the night, sobbing, confused, saying she wasn’t sure where she was. Because the two of them had agreed to give each other their tracking details as soon as the technology came out, Aviva was able to catch a cab and get to where Soonyoung was.

“We’ve got to get you sobered up a bit,” Aviva thought. “Have you drank any water? Ate anything tonight?” Soonyoung shrugged. Aviva looked around and spotted a late night hole in the wall restaurant. She dragged Soonyoung inside and ordered her some hot food and tea. It was a cramped space, with one of the only two tables taken already.

It took Aviva a minute to recognize the person sitting at the table, hugging a motorcycle helmet against his chest as he glared at the textbook on the table in front of him.

She blinked. “Yoongi-ssi?”

He looked up. “…Bom-ssi, what’s up?”

“Um… I’m trying to get Soonie to sober up,” she answered honestly. Yoongi glanced over at the other table, where Aviva had propped Soonyoung up.

“Yo~” Soonyoung waved wobbly.

“Wait…” Yoongi smiled at her. “You’re Queen, right?”

Aviva looked at her. “Isn’t that your username on some gaming sites?”

Soonyoung grinned a little sheepishly.

“I was thinking of using it as my stage name…” She squinted suspiciously at Yoongi. “But I haven’t told anybody yet—how’d you know?”

“Some of your beats were open on the computer in the studio when I went there one time,” he told her. “It was good stuff, so I kind of asked around about who did it…” He rubbed the back of his neck, and then smiled at her again. “Anyway, I really liked it.”

Soonyoung’s brow furrowed. “You’re l-lying.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Believe what you want. I don’t sugar-coat things.”

“Don’t you?” Soonyoung wondered. “I thought your stage name was Suga.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s got to do with basketball, it’s not… anyway, you should be careful—if management catches you out drinking…” He glanced at Aviva.

Aviva held her hands up. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“And she won’t tell anyone you’re working a part time job against the rules either!” Soonyoung said confidently. “Cause she’s the sweetest person there is, sweeter than sugar.” Soonyoung tried to wrap her arms around Aviva and snuggle her. Aviva made a face.

“You smell. Eat your food, please.”

Soonyoung gave her a small salute.

“…What part time job?” Yoongi said after a minute.

“Aren’t you working here?” Soonyoung said, her voice a little muffled by the food in her mouth. Yoongi shook his head. Soonyoung scoffed. “Then why are you holding a motorcycle helmet with this restaurant’s name on it?” Yoongi froze.

“Yoongi-yah?” The man at the register called out. “Are these your friends? I said you could sit here and study, but I don’t want you bothering customers.”

“He’s not bothering us,” Aviva said, bowing slightly.

“Eh, I’m done anyway,” Soonyoung said, swallowing her last bite of food and washing it down with the tea. “Come on, Avi.” She dragged her outside.

“Wait.” Yoongi came after them. He pointed at Soonyoung. “You’re scarily observant for a drunk person.”

“Gotta be,” Soonyoung told him. “Can’t be a small drunk Asian girl in the middle of the night in Queens if you don’t got your wits about you.”

“Part of that problem would be solved if you didn’t go out drinking so late,” Aviva thought. Soonyoung shrugged.

“I’d still be small and Asian. Nice that doesn’t matter as much here, but now apparently I’ve got an accent and I’m too tan?” She grunted. “Something’s always gotta be going against me, I guess. I’m so tired of this shit, Avi.”

“I know.” Aviva hugged her.

“And you!” Soonyoung pointed at Yoongi. “You’ve got a part time job, you’re in idol training, and you’re studying for your college exams? When do you fucking sleep?”

“Yah, I don’t want to hear that from you,” Yoongi muttered. “I just wanted… promise me neither of you will say anything about this job?”

“I already said we fucking wouldn’t,” Soonyoung reminded him.

Yoongi looked at Aviva.

“We won’t,” she assured him. Yoongi studied her for a moment and then nodded.

“Where do you live?” He asked. Soonyoung squinted at him.

“I can and will beat you up if you start acting creepy.”

He laughed. “I believe that. I just meant I’d drive you back since it’s so late.”

“Three people on a motorcycle?” Aviva said confusedly.

“No.” Yoongi shot her an amused look. “I have access to the delivery van also.”

Aviva hesitated. “I don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Should be fine as long as I get it back on time. Take it or leave it.”

“…Okay.” Aviva dipped her head. “Thank you, Yoongi-ssi.” Soonyoung fell asleep on Aviva’s shoulder as Yoongi drove them back. Aviva brushed her hair out of her face, frowning. “I should get my driver’s license… see if I can start saving up for a car. If she’s going to keep going out this late, I’ll need a more reliable way to pick her up.”

“Are you saying I’m not reliable?” Yoongi said lightly. Aviva just sighed.

  The next morning Aviva was thinking of sending Namjoon a text when her phone buzzed. She stared down at it. She had Yoongi's number, but the last time he texted was several months ago, to let her know that Hoseok's phone had died and he would be running late to practice.

This morning Yoongi had texted her the name of a driver's ed place, with a discount for a referral.

'thanks!' she texted him back immediately. 'for everything.'

'don't mention it'

Aviva followed up with a text to Namjoon that Yoongi could probably use a little extra support with his studying.

‘I’ll take care of it,’ he told her. Later, Aviva received a text from Hoseok telling her that they’d secretly made lunch for Yoongi. He’d included a picture of the boys crowding around Yoongi, who was rolling his eyes, but also smiling.

Aviva had almost fallen asleep on the couch when she sat up with a start at the sound of the key in the lock. The door opened carefully, Soonyoung nearly tiptoeing. When she saw Aviva, she smiled.

“Hey, sweetie, what are you doing up?” She cooed, slipping off her shoes and then coming to cuddle against her on the couch.

“Waiting for you, duh,” Aviva said, yawning and rubbing at her eyes. “Did you have fun on your night off?”

“Yeah. You would’ve hated it though.” She nuzzled against her neck.

“I can imagine,” Aviva said, squirming at the strong scent of alcohol on her friend’s breath.

“Anyway, I finally did what you suggested. I talked to Chief Youngjin and Bang-PDnim, and ba ba bum!” Soonyoung threw her arms out wide. “Bit Hit has agreed to train me as a producer!”

“What?” Aviva was suddenly wide-awake. “What, but Soon—what about becoming an idol?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it,” Soonyoung said, tapping her nose. “I’ve been thinking about what it is I really wanted from being an idol. I’ve decided that it’s the music that’s the most important thing to me. Preforming would be fun, but I can do just as good working behind the stage as I could on it.” She tilted her head. “Maybe better, even. Anyway, I noticed the production department’s all guys at the moment and that grossed me out so I decided I’d like to even the playing field a little.”

“Well…” Aviva curled more comfortably around her. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Soonyoung said. “And you? Are you happy in the management department, darling? You know I’ve always loved your voice, and you’re not half bad with computers either.”

Aviva laughed. “You’re biased, Soon. My voice is fine for singing in the shower, not for stages and albums. Anyway… I like it in management. There’s some real talent in the trainees, and I want to help see it to fruition.” She frowned. “I’m a bit disappointed I won’t get to manage you like I’ve always imagined, but of course I know you’ll be great at whatever you do, and I respect your choice.”

Soonyoung smiled fondly at her. “You’re too good, Viva. We’re all gonna do great, you’ll see.”

Meanwhile, the rest of the Bangtan lineup was still unsettled. Aviva was busier than ever helping out with the auditions.

[gta-5-cheats]

A Series of Unfortunate Events Is the Same in Season 2, Which Is Both Good and Bad

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A Series of Unfortunate Events Is the Same in Season 2, Which Is Both Good and Bad

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Through a combination of fourth-wall breaking, self-deprecation, black humour, absurdist storytelling, and three interesting children surrounded by an eccentric bunch of adult characters, A Series of Unfortunate Events made a splash with its debut on Netflix last year, successfully bringing Lemony Snicket’s – pen name of author Daniel Handler – best-selling children’s book series to life. Part of that success was owing to Handler’s own heavy involvement: he executive produced the show, wrote more than half the episodes, and even had a hand in composing the opening theme.

That it all worked so well for the most part meant what followed – A Series of Unfortunate Events season 2 arrives Friday, March 30 – would have a tough time: it had to not just top what came before, but also brush out the parts that became tiring over a period. Chief among those was the repeated incompetence of the adults around them and the presenter effect – Patrick Warburton playing narrator Lemony Snicket and providing commentary, exposition, and explanations of language concepts – whose use as plot devices wore thin in the first season.

For better and worse, A Series of Unfortunate Events is more and less as it was. Adapted from books five through nine in Snicket’s 13-book series – a third and final season, already greenlit, will adapt the remaining four books – the second season picks up right where we last saw the unlucky Baudelaire trio: Violet (Malina Weissman) the inventor, Klaus (Louis Hynes) the reader, and Sunny (Presley Smith) the baby with sharp teeth, sitting on a bench in the gloomy boarding school, which becomes their fifth new home since their parents perished in a house fire.

  As always, the children are at the receiving end of a series of unfortunate events, from having to stay in a dilapidated shack filled with crabs and dealing with a popular, entitled girl named Carmelita Spats (Kitana Turnbull) at school, to being thrust into the care of an entire village that forces them to do everyone’s chores and becoming fugitives after falsely accused in a murder. And as always, the evil and scheming Count Olaf (Neil Patrick Harris) who’s out to steal the Baudelaire fortune, is just one step behind them along with his oddball theatre troupe, relying on various disguises to infiltrate the environments they’re housed in.

While the Baudelaires are known for finding something to enjoy despite their perpetual-terrible circumstances, something – or rather, someone – finds them at the start of the second season. Duncan (Dylan Kingwell) and Isadora Quagmire (Avi Lake), who were introduced late into the first season as two of three children of the unnamed parents, played by Will Arnett (Arrested Development) and Cobie Smulders (How I Met Your Mother), attend the same school and become quick friends of the Baudelaires owing to various similarities.

For one, they’re orphans too. The Quagmires lost their parents and a sibling – they’re actually triplets, which becomes a running gag through season two of A Series of Unfortunate Events – in a house fire; they’re also literary adept: Duncan wants to be a journalist and makes quick notes, while poet-in-making Isadora is quite capable of writing couplets that double as clues. The friendship between the Baudelaires and the Quagmires is one of the few bright spots in an otherwise litany of terrible happenings, and it also contains flourishes of romantic interest between Violet and Duncan, and Klaus and Isadora.

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Lucy Punch as Esmé Squalor, and Neil Patrick Harris as Count Olaf in a still from Netflix’s A Series of Unfortunate Events Photo Credit: Joseph Lederer/Netflix

Don’t expect to see much of them, though. A Series of Unfortunate Events continues to be faithful to the books for the most part, which means it’ll keep finding ways to make the Quagmires unavailable for action, and remain focused on its protagonists and chief antagonist. Unfortunately, the latter – Harris’ Count Olaf, if you’re unclear – threatens to overshadow the Baudelaires in the new season, suffocating the screen with detailed explanations of his schemes. Olaf’s characteristics are enjoyable in small doses, but it seems that the writers were having so much fun with his character that they ended up giving him too much screen time.

But the bigger issue is that A Series of Unfortunate Events retreads the same ground in season two. This isn’t always a bad thing – the saying ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ exists for a reason. But having watched the show mine a lot of humour from Olaf’s oddities, Sunny’s adorableness and quasi-nonsensical lines (voiced by Tara Strong), Mr. Poe’s (K. Todd Freeman) coughing fits, and his journalist wife Eleanora’s (Cleo King) happiness over gossip-y headlines, the joy begins to minimise with every new repetition.

Thanks to new guest stars – in addition to Turnbull’s Carmelita – in Nathan Fillion (Castle), who plays Jacques Snicket and actively participates in the story unlike his brother Lemony, Lucy Punch (Bad Teacher) as wealthy new guardian Esmé Squalor, and Sara Rue (Less than Perfect) as an enthusiastic librarian named Olivia Caliban (a change from the books) among others, the show gets a much-needed dose of freshness. Turnbull really leans into the character’s self-assured status, there’s a winning chemistry between Fillion and Rue that blends suave and sexiness, and Punch provides a new dimension both before and after a twist we won’t spoil.

Lucy Punch as Esmé Squalor in a still from Netflix’s A Series of Unfortunate Events Photo Credit: Joseph Lederer/Netflix

Still, the quality of the second season is clearly a step down from its preceding year. Because the setting (and in turn, the additional supporting cast) changes every two episodes – each episode adapts one-half of a book, making for a total of 10 episodes – A Series of Unfortunate Events lives and dies by what those settings bring, how much fun it’s able to have with the new guardians, and whether it allows for the kids’ talents to be showcased. The second-season output goes up and down as the setting changes, and there’s more listening and reacting to Olaf than watching the Baudelaires come up with ingenious solutions for their problems.

The Netflix series is at its best when it’s examining something literary, be it an idiom or the misuse of a word. As always, it’s down to Warburton’s Snicket to explain them in a deadpan manner – from “in the dark”, “on the lam”, “up in the air”, to “red herring” among others – and lay out the difference in the literal and figurative meaning. It’s not always limited to the narrator though, with the show introducing a village filled with crows as a clever way of foreshadowing events. And as before, it continues to have allusions and direct references to real-world things and people, including The Shining, the Emperor Nero, Wuthering Heights, and Henry Heimlich among others.

Of course, the show’s primary target audience won’t catch most of those references. But that’s okay. Hopefully, they’ll be driven to seek out and read up on the topics they don’t know about. And what better role models than the Baudelaires, who demonstrate the usefulness and value of both theoretical and practical knowledge over and over, and how a combination of the two – in addition to a never-give-up attitude – can work wonders. The second season of A Series of Unfortunate Events doesn’t evolve on what came before, but it’s an iteration that won’t make you wish you were watching something more pleasant, no matter how many times Snicket says so.

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[fashiontrendin-blog]

Period Cramps and Pesto Pasta: A Day in Haley’s Life During Fashion Week

http://fashion-trendin.com/period-cramps-and-pesto-pasta-a-day-in-haleys-life-during-fashion-week/

Period Cramps and Pesto Pasta: A Day in Haley’s Life During Fashion Week

I suppose my Saturday technically started at 12:01 a.m., at my brother’s apartment in Bushwick, as I sat on his couch waiting for my SIM card to breathe life into his old phone. It was old and wouldn’t stay charged for more than six hours, but it didn’t have a shattered camera lens as mine now did after my attempt at a fashion week hat trick: leave a show, put on a coat, whine on the phone about my period migraine. Suffice it to say, it didn’t work out and everything was going great. Here’s how the next day went.

Saturday, February 10th, 7:48 a.m.: Friday was so long and I stayed up so late working that I decided to treat myself to an 8:30 a.m. alarm., but I woke up before 8 a.m. due to sleepy delusions that I’d ruined Man Repeller. My subconscious knew we had two stories going live that morning that I had yet to edit.

8:30 a.m.: After fake-sleeping for 42 minutes, I got up, grabbed my computer, and brought it back to bed to work from there, which I sometimes do on the weekends, even though I know I’m not supposed to.

9:44 a.m.: I ‘ve just finished editing and scheduling the stories. I close my laptop and pretend to sleep for five more minutes, then get the hell up because I have to do an outfit recipe for Man Repeller’s Instagram.

9:50 a.m.: I send my boyfriend packing to get us coffees because I don’t want him creeping in the background of my filming and also the thought of him watching stresses me out. The cat can stay though.

10:05 a.m.: I jump in the shower.

10:20 – 11 a.m.: I get dressed on Instagram, which sounds creepy but involves no skin. I end up wearing this:

The answer to my caption is yes.

11:15 a.m.: I do a final edit on another story, email the writer to let her know, then respond to other emails.

11:30 a.m.: Avi comes back with coffees like the angel that he is. We head out to get some food, preferably somewhere with wifi so I can get a little more work done.

11:35 – 1 p.m.: Our joyous morning outing entails:

-Avi getting anxious about stuff he needs to do, I think possibly as a direct result of my being anxious about stuff I need to do.

-Us passing our anxieties back and forth, empathizing with each other and discussing realistic solutions like hopping on a flight back to California where we were last weekend. (It was 70 degrees.)

-Stopping for breakfast at a cafe in Williamsburg where the food is bad and the wifi sucks, which improves our moods a great deal.

1:20 p.m.: It dawns on me that I’m already running late for a show — Eckhaus Latta — which starts at 2 p.m. but which is luckily close to my house. We rush home.

2:05 p.m.: I get to Eckhaus Latta on time. It’s in a huge and beautiful warehouse space in Bushwick.

There are cool looks and camel coats aplenty. A baby in the front row cries in the middle of the show and has to be rushed out like a tiny, hungry prince.

2:45 p.m.: The show ends. I mentally note how much I’ve enjoyed the casting so far this season; it’s felt less box-checky than usual, in regards to race and age, and I’ve seen a lot of makeup-free models and bodies similar to those I see in the wild.

3 p.m.: I walk home nearly doubled over with period cramps. I decide they are the worst period cramps I’ve ever had (but I always say that).

3-4 p.m.: I crawl back into bed like Gollum. I don’t move for an hour, I feel genuinely relaxed and like I could stay there until Monday. (I know I’m dramatic but, after a week of 12-hour work days and poor sleep, I feel tired in the marrow of my bones.)

4:15 p.m.: I map how long it will take me to get to Spring Studios by train for Jonathan Simkhai: 40 minutes. Given I am in bed, I am basically already late.

5:25 p.m.: I get to Jonathan Simkhai and it’s a madhouse! Intimidating, but thank god Harling is here. I find my seat next to her and we spy one Joan Smalls in the front row while we wait for the show to start. Later I see this amazing video of Phoebe Robinson feeling awkward sitting nearby and am utterly tickled, because I felt like that sitting near her just two days prior at Creatures of Comfort.

5:55 p.m.: Harling and I regrettably part ways (she has a show uptown), and I have a two-and-a-half-hour break, for which I have nothing to do.

6 p.m.: I call my sister to see if I can come hang out with her — I miss her and she lives in Nolita — but she doesn’t answer. I decide to walk to Man Repeller HQ instead, like a loser. I call my mom, she doesn’t answer.

6:05 p.m.: I call my friend Adrea and apologize for missing her birthday party the night before. We talk for awhile and it’s really nice.

6:30 p.m.: I get to the office. It’s dark and empty and silent. Since I live in a basement with no door and have three roommates upstairs who are home a lot, I never feel totally alone, and I never quite get the satisfaction of closing a door on the world to complete solitude. Right now, the office offers that, and after a week of overstimulation, it feels like ecstasy. I’m suddenly so excited I have two hours to kill until Pyer Moss at 8:30 p.m.

I don’t even have my laptop, so I can’t work! I take a selfie.

6:42 p.m.: I get a big-ass bowl of pesto pasta from across the street. I’m really hungry after mostly not eating all day. (Remember, breakfast was bad and I gave most of it to Avi.)

6:48 p.m.: I put on David Letterman’s new Netflix show and watch him talk to George Clooney for an hour, which is surprisingly entertaining. I decide that I, too, would have changed my whole life for Amal. I eat some of Edith’s ice cream cake. This is a really cool Saturday night.

8:05 p.m.: Time to go! Should be a 20-minute walk or so. I realize my phone is dying so I steal Matt’s charge cord (sorry Matt, I’ll bring it back!) and head out.

8:25 p.m.: As I approach Spring Studios, I run into Aemilia (Madden, not Diamond), who I like and know through various industry events. She indicates I’m walking the wrong way and I panic and say I have to make a phone call, which is an anxious lie.

8:28 p.m.: I come to my senses and meet Aemilia in line and remember how nice it is to know people at fashion events. Her friend knows someone in PR who is working Pyer Moss and gets us to the front of the line, which is fun but I feel undeserving.

8:35 p.m.: I’m in my assigned seat now, feeling slightly awkward but enjoying all the good outfits in the front row. I decide to introduce myself to the guy next to me.

Me: Hi! I’m Haley.

Him: Hi! I’m Josh.

Me: Nice to meet you, where do you work?

Him: *turns away and talks to his one million friends*

Me: *pretends to cough*

9 p.m.: Show starts. Holy shit there is a live gospel choir here!

9:15 p.m.: The show is moving, political and beautiful. The clothes are so good, but they’re almost secondary. Robin Givhan says it best:

9:35 p.m.: I’m outside, it’s raining, and I realize I left my umbrella under my seat. (Good thing I’m wearing a detachable hood!) I hurry to the subway — I have 45 minutes of trains to take home. I spend them reading Maureen Dowd’s New York Times piece on Uma Thurman, which is great.

10:22 p.m.: I’m home, I’m home!!! I immediately put on sweats, do my skincare routine and brush my teeth. Just as I’m about to get in bed, I remember we have two stories going up tomorrow that I haven’t edited. I go to my desk and work for an hour.

11:35 p.m.: OKAY now I’m ready to sleep.

11:37 p.m.: I get in bed and have never been more comfortable in my whole life. I’m such a baby — this day wasn’t even that crazy, but I decide I just might sleep forever. Good night!

Photos via Haley Nahman.