#kind of like. when you amass too many photos on your phone and need to save them to an album on google photos so you can delete them from

[awanderingdeal]

Never too late - 4 - 5

A continuation of Leo and Regulus' attempts (antics) to give Regulus the childhood he never had.

CW: All content warnings relate to Part 5: piercings and food talk

Please message me if you feel I need to add any content warnings

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist

Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.

4. Take photos! Candids, selfies and posed group shots. They’ll hold the best memories.

“Merde, what are you doing?” Logan asked, resting his head on Leo's shoulder as he peered at the laptop.

Leo grinned, tipping his head back slightly so he could press a kiss against Logan’s cheek, “I’m getting inspiration.”

“That cleared a grand total of nothing up,” Logan huffed, circling the sofa so that he could flop next to Leo. “Oh my God, no. I thought I had deleted everything from back then” he groaned, reaching to close the lid of the device.

Leo swatted his hand away with a scowl. “First of all, I am offended that you never told me that you used to have bangs,” he gestured to the image of a young Logan on the screen, laughter bubbling in chest. “Second, I think you may have caught most yours, but you failed to check your tagged photos.”

Logan sighed again, apparently resigning himself to the fact Leo was going to trawl through the photos no matter what. “Is there at least a reason that you are torturing me like this?” he asked, curling into Leo’s side.

“It started off as me finding inspiration for classic high school photos to take with Reg, but now I’m just looking at how adorable you were at 14.” Leo chuckled.

***

“I want to be on the top!” James yelled, earning a snigger from Finn.

“No, Logan needs to go on the top, he’s the smallest and I’m not breaking my back for you idiots,” Kasey said from where he was braced on all fours.

“He’s actually very heavy. Like a tiny ball of muscle,” Finn said. Logan seemed conflicted as to whether he should be thanking his boyfriend or reprimanding him, the confused frown making Leo smile, but he figured he should intervene before a full on argument broke out.

“Maybe we should ask Regulus where he wants to go? These are his photos after all,” Leo suggested, turning his gaze onto the man in question.

Regulus threw his hands up, shaking his head. “I was coerced into this madness,” he defended. “But if I must participate then I want to go on top. At least then I don’t get squashed when this goes wrong.”

“O, yee of little faith,” Thomas scoffed, making a dramatic show of stretching his limbs.

“I’m retiring after this season, I’m too old for this,” Dumo groaned as he joined Kasey on the floor.

“You say this every season,” Kuny laughed, taking the spot next to Pascal and nudging him in the shoulder.

“Alright, Cap. I think you better go on the base too,” Leo said, laughing at the scowl he earned. It appeared that Sirius had been trying to make himself blend into the cushions in the hopes he might get out of the photo, but Leo wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “For Reg?”

“Regulus doesn’t even…” Sirius began to argue, but he was interrupted by his brother’s low chuckle.

“I have suddenly changed my mind. Come on Sirius, don’t be a spoil sport,” Regulus teased.

Sirius opened his mouth to start a rebuttal, but all that came out was a resigned sigh, and the man heaved himself to his feet, getting a loud cheer from the rest of the team. Once he had taken his spot, the rest of the pyramid seemed to form easily. James, Remus, Leo, Logan and Finn all climbed on, until eventually it was Regulus’s turn. With a little help from Timmy and Olli, the man managed to take his place at the top of the pyramid.

“Okay, Sergei, take the photo,” Leo instructed, feeling parts of the pyramid begin to shake.

“Which button is -” Sergei asked, before a semblance of a smile crossed his face. “Oh, found it.” Just as the words left Sergei’s mouth, Leo found himself tumbling to the floor, several of his team mates on top of him, a chorus of grumbling in several different languages erupting as they clutched various body parts.

“If anybody has broken anything, I am not explaining this to Coach,” Sirius declared, from under James and Finn.

“Did you at least get the photo?” Dumo asked.

“No, we need to do again,” Sergei grinned, a groan reverberating around the room from the rest of the team.

***

Regulus wiped his hand across his cheek so subtly that he nearly missed it, but the redness in his eyes was obvious.

“Are you crying?” Leo asked quietly, feeling the muscles 0f his forehead tense into a concerned frown.

“I’m fine,” Regulus said, blinking rapidly, shutting the scrapbook perched on his lap with a little more force than necessary. Leo had spent hours compiling the photos taken over the last few months into it: the forming a pyramid, two dozen or so polaroids taken at various events, a fair few with peace signs; the transition of Regulus slowly becoming more comfortable with the action obvious with each one, another was a take on the classic shoe circle only with hockey skates. Somehow James had snuck several selfies of himself into the mix.

“No, Reggie, what’s the matter?” Leo pulled the book from Regulus’s hands and put it on the coffee table, turning so that he could face his friend more easily.

Regulus shrugged, playing with the sleeve of his shirt, a nervous habit Leo had picked up on over the past few months. “I...I just never really had any friends in high school. It’s kind of hard when you’re taught to see everybody as competition, you know? So, I don’t really have any photos that aren’t stuffy family portraits or media shots. I didn’t realise that bothered me until now.”

Leo bundled Regulus into a hug, his friend making a disgruntled sound as he found himself pressed against Leo’s chest. “Just accept it,” Leo huffed, wondering how he had managed to find himself saddled with so many emotionally constipated hockey (or ex-hockey) players.

5. Find your style - change your hair, get a new piercing, buy a new outfit. Go wild!

“Hey, Reg,” Finn waved, mumbling through a mouthful of cheese.

“Harzy! Do you know how much that cheese cost?” Logan scolded, his expression somewhat more horrified than Leo would deem reasonable, “Please respect it.”

Leo grabbed his jacket, patting the pocket to ensure his wallet was inside. He rarely used his physical cards anymore, but it gave him far too much anxiety to rely on just his phone. “We’re leaving now. Try not to kill each other while we’re gone. It would be tragic to lose both of my boyfriends in one day,” he said, dropping a kiss first on to Finn’s cheek and then Logan’s.

“Bye Reg,” Finn waved again.

***

“Thank you,” Leo smiled at the cashier as he took his purchases from them. He looked down, noting that between the two of them they had amassed nearly twenty bags. Leo wasn’t usually one to spend money frivolously, but he had found himself swept away by Reg’s enthusiasm. Apparently when he wasn’t being stuffed into tight button ups and tailored pants, Regulus really rather enjoyed fashion. Finn would have been proud of the multiple pairs of trainers they had acquired so far. Still, they probably had enough for today.

Before Leo had a chance to suggest a change of activities, Regulus beat him to it. “Do you want to get some food?” he asked, the grumble of Leo’s stomach answering the question with no need for any words. Regulus laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes. Are you good to get Thai?”

Somehow over the course of filling their stomachs with curry and Pad Thai, an innocent comment about how Regulus would look cute with a piercing resulted in them walking into the nearest studio that had decent reviews. Regulus had changed into one of his new outfits: a loose black and white striped shirt, a pair of black pants cuffed at the legs and chunky white sneakers because his old outfit was deemed unsuitable for getting a piercing in.

Leo had just finished up getting his lip done, pamphlet of aftercare instructions clutched in his hand, and was waiting for Regulus to come out of his room. The boy had refused to tell him what exactly he was going to get done, and the anticipation was killing him. A few minutes later, Regulus pushed out the door to the small room and Leo’s eye was immediately drawn to the light catching Regulus’ eyebrow.

“Oh my God!” Leo exclaimed, wincing as the movement sent a surge of pain through his lip. “You look so good,” he added, moving to inspect the barbell peeking through Regulus’ brow.

“Thanks,” Regulus blushed at the approval. “Yours is cool too. Logan and Finn are going to freak out.”

“They sure are,” Leo chuckled. “Alright, I’ll settle this and then I’ll drop you back home?”

***

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Regulus scowled, reading the instructions on the back of the box of dye for what Leo was sure was the fiftieth time.

“I told you, you haven’t been a teenager unless you have made some questionable fashion choices,” Leo countered. “Except I’m going to look amazing with blue hair so it’s not really questionable.”

“Well, it can’t be worse than this anyway, right?” Regulus grimaced, gesturing to his bleached blond hair.

“Noughties boy band members would be jealous,” Leo laughed.

“It’s a shame it is neither the noughties anymore, nor am I a boy band member,” Regulus replied, shoving the box into Leo’s hands. “Just do it.”

A little over an hour later, Leo was nudging Reg in front of the mirror. “Okay, this was definitely not a mistake! We look amazing. I am taking up a career in hairdressing if I get injured,” Leo declared, holding his hand out for a high five. Whilst Regulus did return it, it was less enthusiastic than Leo had been going for. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I like it,” Regulus shook his head, dragging his fingers along the short sides. The cut wasn’t that different to what it had been before, other than a slightly more dramatic fade. “Just feels weird. My parents would die if they could see me.”

“Well, I think we look badass,” Leo said, running his hand through his own blue hair. He’d left the front long and floppy, deciding to go wild and undercut the back. “Come here, let me take a photo.”

Leo was glad that Regulus had finally learned that while he was not one to throw a tantrum, he did have his ways of getting what he wanted and it was easier for everyone if Regulus just compiled most of the time. The post had barely been up on their Instagram pages for more than 3 minutes when Leo’s phone began to vibrate, Logan’s flashing onto the screen.

“Regulus! Why did my little brother just call to tell me that he wants to dye his hair blue?” Remus yelled up the stairs as Leo picked the call up.

And if drug stores all over the country sold out of blue hair dye the next day? Well, Leo guessed there were worse trends to have started.

[joy1579]

a starry night (jumin x artist MC)

a teeny tiny ficlet I wrote this afternoon because i didn't feel well and spent all day in bed which meant i didn't have time to do the head canons i wanted. but i said i wanted to upload something everyday so i was determined to do something. now i need advil. hope you all enjoy!!

MC doesn't feel at home in the penthouse so she decides to add a personal touch in the form of a mural on the living room wall. Jumin appreciate her effort.

this is 1250 words of fluff. its straight sugary sweet fluff and romance, like it implies something once but that’s it.

The penthouse still didn’t feel like home after the wedding. You stood in the living room hand on your hips as you surveyed the pristine white walls.

“even the art is monochrome” You sigh. You swore you would go insane if you didn’t add some kind of color to the room. “Elizabeth? What do you think? Doesn’t it need some color, and maybe some shelves for you to climb?” you ask as the Persian cat sat to your left surveying your soon to be canvas. Stooping to scoop the blue eyed beauty from the floor you smiled. “let’s surprise daddy shall we? I’ll ask if we can paint and decorate tonight but you and I have to keep the details a secret okay?” the cat mewled softly and tapped your hand with one of her free paws making you giggle at her confirmation of your pact.

That night Jumin came home late and you couldn’t wait to see him. You were practically bouncing as your husband put away his coat, hiding the sly smile that graced his lips as he took extra time to straighten his coat in the entry way closet. You tried not to groan as he slowly begins to remove his shoes.

“darling I know what you’re doing and it’s not fa- “you begin to whine but he cuts you off swiftly with the kiss you had been waiting for.

“I’m sorry my love. I couldn’t help myself.” He admits running his fingers through your long hair. “have you eaten? Should we get dinner?”

“oh no I haven’t eaten yet but first I have something big to ask” you say pulling him gently into the living room “honey bunny do you mind if I paint that wall?” you point to the wall in question which had already been stripped of what little decorations it had had on it that morning.

“darling I’ve already told you. this is your home you may decorate however you want, paint all the walls if you want” he chuckled

“I don’t need to paint all the walls. Just that one” you announced proudly extricating yourself from his arms to stand facing the wall planning out your new project. “I’ll go shopping tomorrow for everything I need. Oh I was thinking of setting up something for Elizabeth too. If that’s okay”

“of course my love. Have I ever told how beautiful you look when your planning things?” he said hooking an arm around your waist and spinning you to face him.

You laughed at that “you may have mentioned it” Of course he had. He had told you, you were beautiful so often you could have sworn it was carved in your soul at this point and yet, hearing him say it always made your heart jump.

“good.” his simple answer was low and sure as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and bent to capture your lips in a gently commanding kiss. You couldn’t help the satisfied hum that rose in your throat as your arms found their way around his neck. When you both pulled away it was in a mutual contentedness. “I’ll call the chef to prepare dinner. Would you care for a glass of wine on the balcony while we wait?”

“sound lovely. You call I’ll get the glasses and wine then meet you out there.” He hummed in agreement already pulling out his phone.

 Over the next few days you gathered paints and shelving to start your project. You would need a lot of paint for everything you had planned, and something to hang while it was being worked on so that it could stay a surprise for your husband. Once the painting was started you struggled a bit keeping Elizabeth the third out of trouble. The kitty seemed so intrigued but all the blues and golds you had amassed she couldn’t keep her paws of it, so that task fell to you. Slowly but surely though the wall came together and then something struck you. You had to add something. Something personal. That night Jumin noticed the loss of one of your wedding photos in the bedroom but you assured him you only need a reference and it would certainly be returned soon.

“am I to assume the mural you’ve been working so hard on is nearly done then” he asked while drying your hair after you two had shared a relaxing bath.

“so close. I think you’ll like. I hope you’ll like it anyway. Elizabeth seems excited to play with her part at the very least” you chuckled to yourself.

“I’m sure I’ll adore it. After all it was painted by my very favorite artist.” He murmured grazing his lips against your neck making you shudder.

“Jumin,” you sighed as you felt his teeth scrap against the junction of your neck and shoulder “I think its time for bed darling” you just barely managed before he swept your feet from under you to carry you bridal style towards the bedroom.

“absolutely.” He growled as he continued to nip and suck at your neck.

It was done. After nearly two weeks of work it was done. You couldn’t wait to show Jumin and judging by the clock he should be home any minute. So you collected your paints and locked them away in the studio Jumin had set up for you. You were putting away the last of the navy blue when you heard the door open. You dropped everything and ran to your love.

“HONEY BUNNY” you cried as you leapt at him. He caught you in his arms easily his smile wide and genuine. “I finished it. come on” you said excitedly. You pulled him towards the living room but paused and spun on your heels to face him. “close your eyes. Cover them. I’ll lead you don’t worry” and so you did. Leading the blind CEO along by the hand with gentle instructions as you situated directly in front of the wall. “okay. Look” you whispered standing behind him so he could see all of it.

Silence. Such silence it made you nervous. His face was unreadable, even to you with all your practice and you were sure he hated it.

Your rendition of Van Gogh’s starry night adorned the wall with only one alteration. The silhouetted peak that originally sat in the left foreground had been swapped for the silhouette of you and Jumins Wedding photo. You had spent so many days focused on the life size silhouette perhaps it was too much. Normally your husband didn’t know the meaning of moderation but you could understand if he thought you had marred a classical masterpiece with your change. You supposed you could repaint it, if he hated it that much. Though you would have to remove the small climbing shelves you had put in the major swirls of the piece for Elizabeth to jump between.

Just then you felt Jumin spin you and Kiss you fiercely. “never has anyone ever been so perfect as you my love” he muttered against your lips stealing your breath as he kissed you again. Your head was spinning from the affection as he pulled you tight against himself. “I love you, and I love your work.”

“you had me worried, with all your silence you meanie” you chastised him playfully and resting your head on his shoulder. “so it’s okay”

“it’s perfect”

[angrylizardjacket]

and everything that goes with it; i thank you all

A/N: So........ ash v. social media v. borhap cast i guess??? no-one asked for this, but i love them.

[aydtd]

It definitely starts as a joke.

“Hey, Ma Rocket?” Joe’s filming on his phone during a costume trial. With her arms crossed, Ash is partially hidden by Rami who’s spinning, the frills of his shirt fanning out around him. She’s frowning, thoughtful and pensive, but when Joe calls, she turns to him, eyebrows raised and expectant.

“Aye?” She’s not smiling, mind obviously still pondering over the fit of Rami’s costume, but it’s a clear enough acknowledgement that Joe’s response is clearly spoken through a smile.

“You responded; you’re the on-set mom now.” He declares. Ben laughs from somewhere off camera. “No takebacks.” Joe follows it up with, but Ash is already wearing a longsuffering look of resignation. The video cuts off before she can flip him off, but her movements are too deliberate to be misconstrued as anything else. The video is released almost a full year later, once the NDA has been lifted on the movie and Behind the Scenes pictures and videos start flooding out, but at that point the joke had moved beyond being just that.

Ash is not hard won; kindness and respect win her loyalty easily, it’s just that those traits are sometimes hard to come by in this industry, and she’s often dismissed because of her age, especially by younger performers. Bohemian Rhapsody is different, of course in part because they all know who she is by virtue of who they’re playing,

Joe’s not her favourite, not officially, and neither is Ben, much to his quiet disappointment; officially her favourite is Karen, and everyone else is tied second, but each of them holds a very special place in her heart and soon that begins to bleed into her social media, as well as some of theirs. Ash gets Instagram at Joe’s behest, only a month before the world premiere of Bohemian Rhapsody. It’s not as if she’s lived her life in obscurity, but come the turn of the millennium, her time at the edge of the spotlight had mostly come to an end, and she had been able to continue her work behind the curtain of pop culture for almost twenty years. This was all new, and unexpected, but she tried to take it in stride.

So she follows the cast, of course, follows Roger and Brian and the Official Queen page, as well as any of her friends or former clients she can find, and much to their horror, her children. Okay so her son isn’t horrified since he’s a public figure and he doesn’t use it for personal photos, but both her daughters have posted pictures of themselves in bikinis, and they thought they’d be safe since Roger followed them after the photos were posted, and at least he never went back and liked any of their old photos. Ash likes every single photoeach of her children has even posted, and all three are a little horrified.

That’s a cute one of us at Bonfire Night!! Is one of the many comments she leaves across the entire timeline of Astrid’s Instagram history, this particular one being from a 2014 photo, and so Astrid herself posts a screenshot of her mother blowing up her notification on her story.

@joemazzello what have you done

Joe subsequently posts a screenshot of a set of DMs between himself and Astrid on his own story.

Yesterday @ 3:47am

@astro_winnie: then tell him to change his oil

@astro_winnie: what a heathen

Today @ 1:21pm

@astro_winnie has mentioned you in her story

@joemazzello: What exactly are you accusing me of here?

@astro_winnie: mum didn’t have an Instagram yesterday 🤔🤔

@astro_winnie: I don’t know how but this is your fault

@joemazzello: she’s just having fun 😂😂

@astro_winnie: SHE LIKED MY BIKINI PIC FROM 2 YEARS AGO IM DYINg

The whole conversation is captioned ’Well anyways, go follow Ma Rocket @rockettaylor49’. The following picture on his story, posted ten minutes later, is a clarification that he isn’t actually Ash’s son, that it’s just a nickname. Even so, Ash’s actual son gets a photo with him at the premiere and caption it ‘brother from another mother (probably) @joemazzello’ and it goes viral on both Tumblr and Twitter.

Ash’s first official post is a picture of herself and Freddie, a Polaroid of the two of them aged beyond belief, taken in 1969. It’s the only photo she had when she was still in uni, and even she seems surprised to see it. Roger finds her staring at it, expression blank as she looks at where they keep it, pride of place, over the mantle. Without even asking, he understands, and he presses a kiss to her temple.

’@rockettaylor49: My favourite client helped me with this caption, he said I should remind you all that you can have more than one love of your life, and that that love isn’t necessarily romantic. To me, Freddie was family from the moment I met him, and I love and miss him every day. Freddie & Me. 1969.’

The post is flooded with love and support and more heart emojis than you can shake a stick at, and it’s not long before she’s amassed a large following. The only outlier in the initial comments comes from her second daughter, Cate.

@cate.astrophy: @rogertaylorofficial got upgraded to favourite client. nice.

The entire rest of the family, as well as a few random unknowns, like the comment.

Ash’s aesthetic is surprisingly clean; old photos from back in the day, old initial costume designs in sketchbooks, the paper gold with age and colours faded, but still with her initial notes scribbled neatly around the edges. The only modern things she posts are photos of shopping bags filled with fabric she’s just purchased, and photos of her friends and family.

There’s only one selfie on her page. Its Ash, poorly framed if only to keep Joe in focus behind her where he’s leaning against the door to a trailer and double over with laughter, with Ben glaring through the window at both of them.

’@rockettaylor49: Trixie gave me a selfie stick and Ben tried to confiscate it when he heard me say 'selfie’ so he was locked out. Usually I was with Roger on the other side of the door back when Deaky was locking us out of places… What a terrible influence he was!! But anyways here you all go, my first selfie. Me & Trixie featuring My Disrespectful Boy, Ben. 2018.’

The way the cast call her ‘Ma’ definitely started out as a joke, mostly between Joe, Ben, and Ash, but it slowly spreads to the others.

“Where’s The Golden Boy?” Ash calls on set, holding a cap for Rami, who was warming up. It’s rather endearing, the way he jogs to her wearing a smile.

“Here, Ma, what do you need from me?” 

“Hat.” Is all she says, presenting it to him. They’ve always had a soft spot for each other, having worked together on Night At the Museum and it’s sequels for several years. He was one of the last to pick up the habit of calling her ‘ma’, after spending so long calling her Rocket, but he’s grown into it, they all have. Even some of the crew have taken to using the nickname, or some variation.

And maybe she leans into it, leans into her age and her wisdom, and they know they’re sort of telling her story too, but there’s a disconnect when they look at her, at her greying hair and the deep laugh lines around her mouth, and they forget who exactly she is. Though sometimes, rarely, they’re given sharp reminders.

There’s a video on Gwil’s phone that he later puts on Instagram once he has her permission, and the NDA has come to an end, of Ash on the set of Live Aid. She’s sitting on the edge of the stage, legs hanging over the edge, and Roger’s in front of her, at the perfect height to rest his chin on her knees. 

“Do you think you can still do that impression of yours?” Roger’s voice is barely audible, but he’s grinning, and Ash cards a hand through his short, white hair.

“Which- oh, the Freddie- oh Christ,” she laughs, “this’d be the place for it, aye?” And she starts clearing her throat, about the time that Roger spots Gwil and his curious camera.

“Sorry, was just trying to catch a video of the empty stadium,” Gwil’s voice can be heard, and Roger laughs, which causes Ash to turn. Seeing Gwil, she smiles, and nods at the camera.

“You’re gonna wanna get a video of this,” Roger grins, nudging Ash’s knee, and she turns an amusing shade of pink, struggling to her feet. Gwil rushes forward to help her up, but Ash brushes him off.

“I used to do this with Freds to help him warm up, and whenever I was side of stage,” she says, a strangely fond smile on her face as she reminisces, “I’m no singer, never have been, this is probably as close as I’ll get,” she warned, looking straight at the camera.

Taking a deep breath, she clears her throat, and belts out ‘ay-oh’. As if being summoned by a siren, everyone who can hear her, responds in kind. Smiling, pleased, she continues with the bit, as does everyone else, slowly gathering around her. It sounds uncannily like Freddie, and she holds an arm out to Rami to join her in leading the gathered crowd, which he agrees to with a bright grin, which ends with him yelling ‘hey, hey, hey, Hammer to Fall!’ and Ash, as well as the rest of the crew, bursts out into laughter.

The video’s posted with the caption ‘Ash Mercury in her prime’. All three of Ash and Roger’s kids comment about how they hadn’t heard her do that in so long, and not for the first time, Gwilym finds himself marveling at what it would be like to have Ash and Roger as actual parents.

Once the camera’s off, Ash  talks quietly about how she and Freddie used to practice it, because he couldn’t teach Ash to sing to save his life, but he’d be damned if he couldn’t teach her this.

“He was like, an actual brother to her,” Ben says quietly when he and the other three boys are gathered together, checking in before they finally started filming.

“Yeah, it’s crazy to think some times; she took his last name for a full fifteen years," Rami muses, and there’s something that warms in his heart whenever he catches Ash’s wistful gaze as she watches them perform, quietly grateful.

There’s a few videos here and there from set from Ash, little moments she finds endearing, usually set to music;

She catches her son, Barney, and his partner dancing to Seaside Rendezvous alone in the makeup truck, joyful and bright, they sway together to the beat as her son sings along, and his partner laughs fondly, pressing their smile against his chest as he tries to make kazoo noises.

When Cate, her middle daughter, comes to set, she takes a seat by the piano and plays the opening for Seven Seas of Rhye.

“That’s the one he wrote for you, isn’t it?” She turns, beaming, and Ash sits beside her. Again, Cate plays the opening, and Ash hums along, out of key, and Cate swallows her own gentle laughter, instead singing along.

Karen Gillan has a perm in order to play Ash, but unlike Joe, she appears to have no trouble in it, actually takes great pride in it. Ash has caught the rest of the cast, on several different occasions, using it to take photos of themselves with a stunning, ginger beard, which amuses her to no end, as it was something Roger was want to do on occasion when he got bored back in the day.

On the night of the Oscars, at the afterparty, Ash uploads two videos in the same post, one from set, and one from that night. They’re simply captioned ‘Me & The Champions. 2018/19′.

The video from on set is from the final day; Ash’s hands are shaking the camera slightly, but her voice is loud and clear, ringing throughout the set; 

“Where are my kids?” And like clockwork, Ben, Gwilym, Rami, and Joe all come out from various places, followed by Lucy and Karen, all giving her fond looks.

“Oh man, I’m gonna miss my set-mom,” Joe looks like the thought genuinely pains his heart, and as the realization dawns on the others, there’s a fond and faintly forlorn expression mirrored on all their faces. Joe’s the first to go in for the hug, despite Ash’s faint ‘oh Jesus Christ, Trixie’, but they all soon join.

The second video is from right after the Oscars awards ceremony, when most of the cast and crew who’d been attending are doing photo opportunities, and while Brian and Roger are already with them, Ash had hung back.

“It’s so good to see all my kids in the one place!” She calls, and Joe’s expression lights up as he hears her voice.

“Ma, we won!” Rami holds up his Oscar with delight, already a little tipsy, as were the rest of them as they crowd Ash, all wrapping her up in a group hug. Someone’s humming We Are The Champions. Ash suspects Joe. But she takes delight in the moment anyways, pride flaring bright in her chest.

[enkisstories]

Just like them (part 6)

Park Avenue 1554 November 17, 2038 1:14 am

They say the android rights movement was kicked off when the painter Carl Manfred returned home from a party and found the light switched on in his workshop.

Daniel Phillips-no-longer had just returned home from a coffee shop at Capitol Park and found the door to the terrace ajar. It was everyone’s guess what would start from that point… The real question was, had someone come in, and was still sneaking around the apartment, or had the burglar already left?

Now normally Daniel would have taken out his phone to make a call, to prove a point. But in this situation time was of essence, so he started dialing the DPD in his head. However, the signal didn’t get through. None of his thought-commands left the android brain, Daniel realized. He couldn’t make a call, browse the internet, or connect to the various household electronics. Something was jamming his signals, effectively putting the android into flight mode.

There was a shadow, then an incoming signal, that the deviant rebuked, and then something heavy impacted on his head. The last thought that crossed Daniel’s mind before temporarily shutting down was that Tina Chen had been right: He really wouldn’t have needed to worry about the missing apartment key. The still not repaired door alone had been an invitation to a burglar.

And the first thought upon waking up again, sometime after sunrise, was that said burglar must have been an android, because their first impulse had been to wirelessly shut down Daniel before they had went for the baseball bat.

“Kin-betraying swine!” Daniel hissed. “Just you wait, I’m going to unleash Connor on your sorry ass!”

The apartment’s new inhabitant took a few minutes to take inventory of what was missing. He was in luck, because most of the irreplaceable stuff in the flat was of low monetary value and therefore hadn’t been of interest to the burglar. All the family photos and little mementos were still there and what had gotten taken wasn’t really needed, especially not when you didn’t eat and were able to watch TV in your own head.

Daniel fed the fishes and the pet rat, a half-starved white-and-black patterned fellow that he had taken in after his owners had fled Detroit in a hurry. Then he left the apartment again to personally report the incident to the police. The deviant also didn’t like the hum behind his forehead that had grown quieter, but wouldn’t subside altogether. He decided to swing by an Android Zone for a checkup later, just to be on the safe side.

Entering the precinct Daniel realized that it was his third visit in as many days.

That’s three times more than in my whole life before the revolution! Am I living here now or what?!

The reception was manned, once again, by an ST300 android, no longer Tina Chen acting as a substitute. Only now the ST300’s nameplate read “Rika” and the LED on the android’s temple was missing. Rika smiled at the arrival, but before so much as a greeting could get exchanged, Detective Reed stormed out of the restricted area, drawing everyone’s attention. The man was muttering under his breath - lots of “fuck”s, but Daniel also recognized a short phrase: “team building measure my ass”.

“This is the detective you will want to talk to, Mr. Daniel”, Rika told Daniel after he had explained what had happened to him earlier. “Mr. Reed of the android related crime section.”

Gavin turned around sharply.

“Unless it wants to turn itself in, whatever it has to say won’t fall into my responsibility.”

“But it does!” Daniel insisted. “I was attacked by an android tonight!”

The statement was met with a gleeful grin: “You tin cans are duking it out amongst each other now? Works for me! Well, it was nice having known you, “Mister” Daniel. Now vamoose!”

The detective proceeded to grab a package from the counter, growling “Your locomotion software bugged or what? This is the last time I’m coming out here to fetch something!”, to what Rika replied in her usual friendly voice that she’d make sure to send the parcel to his desk via UPS next time and put it on Mr. Reed’s expense report. Daniel was certain that the human hadn’t really listened to the reply, because if he had, he’d exploded into violence.

When Gavin strode back towards the barrier, Daniel stepped into his way.

“There was a crime committed by an android. Against a person. That sounds like the textbook description of what your section is about!”

“And I fucking told you just now that it isn’t my job to investigate this shit!”

“Is, too!”

“Is not!”

“That your last word?”

“Yes. Now piss off or I’m going to have you removed by force!”

Daniel shook his head.

“Damn, Mr. Reed”, he said, “I wish we’d met earlier! Like by the swimming pool on our terrace, in a starry summer night in August…”

The detective contorted his face into what might pass as a smile. It had to be a smile, because it was… truth be told, it was endearing.

“Yeah”, Gavin nodded. “I’m sorry Captain Allen shot you off that roof.”

He took a step closer towards the PL600 and then suddenly slung his arm around the machine. Daniel didn’t understand what had caused the change. Just a moment ago they had been shouting at each other, but now Gavin was almost hugging Daniel. It was astonishing! Sympathy? From a human?

Gavin drew the android closer.

“Cuzz if he hadn’t done that” he hissed, “you wouldn’t have dozed through the Recall in our archive, but went straight to the Recycling Center where you belong!”

He pushed Daniel away, laughed out loud and was still laughing when the android left the police station.

 After getting turned down at the DPD, Daniel sought out the other 50% of the android related crime section at their home: Hank Anderson.

“…and thus Reed refused to even create a case file”, he finished his recounting of the encounter.

A genuine smile crossed Hank’s face, but Daniel had once again learned to not trust those. And indeed Hank said: “Sweet! Maybe we can put him on probation now!”

“Isn’t anybody going to do something about my attacker?!”

“Yes, yes, I’m getting to that”, the detective grumbled. “Just let me grab a bite before we drive back. I’m not exactly running on happy thoughts and sunshine here.”

“Who is, these days…”

Together they went to the kitchen, from where weird noises had emanated all through their discussion already. Now Daniel saw what had caused those: Connor was standing at the stove, making war against scrambled eggs and the butchered remains of something green.

After watching the RK800 for a while, Daniel spoke up:

 “You know what’s even more pathetic than me, Connor?”

“Yes: Gavin!”

“Take another guess.”

Connor was now stabbing the eggs, probably taking inspiration from something he had seen at a crime scene. Gooey particles escaped the carnage left and right. Daniel almost couldn’t bear watching the sight, and when Connor reached for the salt dispenser, he grabbed the RK800 by its wrist.

“Don’t, Connor! In the name of all the good that may be left in the world, don’t do it!”

Confused the deviant hunter replied that he had forgotten to add the salt before, to which Daniel replied that substituting it with sugar now wouldn’t help.

Connor put down the presumed salt dispenser and started rummaging for the real one in the cupboards.

“Can’t the lieutenant just eat something at the police station?” Daniel pressed. It wasn’t just that he was in a hurry. At this point even the contents of a random evidence bag ought to be less of a health risk than the RK800’s kitchen experiments.

“What’s your gripe? Hank likes my food!”

“I highly doubt that. Eating your “food” is like playing Russian Roulette.”

“Hank… used to like that, too. - And besides, you could lend me a hand here!”

“Sorry, dude, can’t help you. My cooking app got corrupted when someone shot at me.”

It was a lie, but not a too obvious one. A few of Daniel’s apps had indeed suffered from the deviant getting shot, others had stopped working due to deviance in itself and for others yet again the subscription had run out. Daniel was able to live in the apartment Caroline was still paying rent for, unaware of who was using it at the moment, but he didn’t have disposable money to renew those subs. However, out of all the skills the android used to have access to there were two and a half that Daniel considered his “native” skills, related to activities that contributed too much to his identity for him to ever lose his expertise: Cooking, Parenting and a little Driving. In these areas the deviant had amassed actual experience of the kind not even a full reset could ever clear completely.

Eventually Connor served Hank the sugar-free, but almost sufficiently salted, scrambled eggs on toast. The human in turn produced a slim package from his jacket’s inside pocket that he held out towards the guest.

“Bubble gum? No? Cigarette, then?”

“We’re androids, lieutenant. We don’t…”

Daniel didn’t finish the sentence, because Lt. Anderson was grinning at him like a man who knew more about a subject than that smug teen across from him. And hadn’t he seen another PL600 chew bubble gum just the day before?

“There… seems to be a lot I… don’t know about deviance?” Daniel tried and Hank’s expression changed to one indicating something close to respect.

“I don’t think I’m ready yet to try any munchies, Lieutenant. But even so – thank you!”

(to be continued)

[themurphyzone]

Part 1

My idea for NegaGosalyn in the DT17verse.

Rosie King-Fisher was named for her distinctive red hair, as it was the first thing her parents saw when she hatched out of her egg. 

They lived in a mansion in one of the nicest parts of St. Canard. 

Rosie’s parents were rich and they loved Rosie a lot. When she was five, her parents went out for a date night and they entrusted her care to the household staff for the evening. Rosie’s a sweetheart, but she knows how to up the cute factor to coerce the staff into letting her stay up past her normal bedtime.

Even so, a maid puts her foot down when it reaches 11:00 pm and tells Rosie that she needs to go bed. Rosie refuses, and the two get into an argument, and Rosie’s throwing the typical don’t-wanna-go-to-bed tantrum.

The phone rings, and a butler walks past the quarreling parties to answer it.

The maid and Rosie argue even as the butler motions for them to quiet down so he can hear the other end.

Then he drops the phone, and the maid and Rosie glance over to him, confused as to why he’s clutching the table.

“Send Rosie to bed and call an emergency staff meeting,” the butler tells the maid when she rushes over to check on him.

Rosie asks what’s going on, but the maid doesn’t reply. Rosie’s scared. She knows something’s not right as she watches the staff speak in hushed tones and hurry downstairs as fast as they could despite their sleepiness, but the maid leading her back to her room doesn’t offer an explanation. The maid hastily rushes Rosie through her bedtime routine, tucks her into bed, and leaves without giving Rosie the chance to demand a story or lullaby. 

Rosie gets out of bed, pressing her ear to the door. She doesn’t dare open it for fear of getting caught. 

“Money.” 

“Thief.” 

“Outside.” 

“Gone.” 

“Orphan.” 

The words are all jumbled and confusing and Rosie doesn’t understand how they all come together. She falls asleep on the soft carpet by her door, and that’s how the maid finds her in the morning. 

The funeral was held a few days later. The staff attended out of respect, but they would all pack their bags and find new employment eventually. None of them could take Rosie in, and she had no next of kin either. 

Rosie had to go into an orphanage. The staff put together several small photo albums that Rosie could take with her, along with a simple suitcase that contained a week’s worth of clothing and a single stuffed animal.

The adjustment was hard for Rosie, both due to the loss of her parents and because of the drastic change in lifestyle. Rosie wasn’t used to making her own bed and cleaning up after dinner. The staff always took care of those things. It was hard, and Rosie wound up pitching a fit many times in the first couple days.  

Many prospective parents came by and looked around. Sometimes they spoke to Rosie, sometimes they didn’t. But she was still reeling from her parents’ death, and often didn’t want to talk for long. They all moved on, interested in some other kid instead. 

After several disinterested parents, Rosie began watching the other kids to see how she could make herself more appealing for adoption. 

They liked politeness. They liked cuteness. They liked sweetness. 

Rosie’s fits decreased in number over the months. She began to wear pink dresses and snow white socks with the little laces on them, tying her bright red hair in pink ribbons. 

She began to ask for everything politely and sweetly, often to ridiculous extremes. The workers were slightly worried, but they were relieved they didn’t have to calm her down much anymore. 

Rosie presented herself to prospective parents, curtseying upon meeting them and answering questions politely. But it still wasn’t working. 

Then she notices all the other kids have some kind of talent. Soccer, hockey, playing doctor, doing miniature experiments with any objects they can scrounge up. 

Rosie figures she needs a talent to make herself appear even more noticeable, but it needs to be something cute. One day, the orphanage workers bring in a bunch of arts and crafts supplies along with many different socks, then allow the kids to make sock puppets. 

It’s fun for the first day, but most of the other kids lost interest in it after a while. But not Rosie. She loves covering the socks in glitter and making up voices for them. 

Soon she takes to making puppets out of spare fabric and materials, and she’s amassed a collection before long. 

Still, Rosie worries that making sock puppets talk in silly voices wouldn’t be considered cute by most prospective parents. 

Then an orphanage worker calls her into the main office one day and introduces her to a visitor. The man turns out to be a talent scout, and he’s searching for a child to provide a voice for a character in an animated movie. When he brought his idea to the orphanage staff, they immediately recommended Rosie since she spent a lot of her spare time making up stories for her puppets and acting them out. 

Rosie shows the scout her puppets, telling him their names, ages, occupation, stories she’s made up with them, etc. Impressed, the scout asks Rosie if she would like to voice act in an animated movie. 

Rosie says she’s never done that sort of thing before, but the scout shrugs it off, saying that this particular director didn’t mind if she hasn’t been trained in this sort of thing. Sure, they’ll acclimate her with the studio, give her a few lessons, but a child’s voice will bring out the raw emotion the director hopes to capture. 

Rosie slips back into Polite Mode, curtseying and saying ‘I accept your offer, sir.” 

But mostly, Rosie wants to see if there’s anyone at the studio who’ll adopt her. 

An agreement is settled on: Transportation will be provided for Rosie to bus her to and from the orphanage when she goes to the studio. As Rosie is a minor and has no relative to help her, the studio will appoint someone to manage the pay she’ll receive. 

On Rosie’s first day at the studio, she meets the director of the animated film, who introduces her to several more experienced voice actors who welcome her with open arms. It’s a little daunting, but Rosie shakes their hands anyway. She searches their faces, wondering if it was possible to get one of them to adopt her. 

The director decides to give her a grand tour of the studio to help acclimate her to the environment. They take her around in a golf cart, and Rosie thinks it’s cool, but she forces herself to remain in her seat and just smile instead of screaming about how awesome the ride was. 

If she wants one of them to adopt her, she has to be good. 

They tell her story after story, making her giggle, then there’s a sudden commotion at one of the lots. 

“CUT! WE GOTTA DIG HIM OUT!” someone shouts. 

“DON’T CUT!” a voice screams. “DARKWING DUCK ALWAYS POWERS THROUGH THE PAIN!” 

Everyone around Rosie groans and rolls their eyes. 

“Pay them no mind, Rosie,” the director says as he steers the cart toward the loud disagreement. “That’s where they film the TV show Darkwing Duck. They’re always having trouble on the set because their lead stupidly insists on doing every stunt himself. I guess we’d better help them out and make life a little easier for the saner people on their crew. You don’t mind if we make a small detour, right?” 

Rosie shakes her head, and the director brings them over to the lot. Several people are gathered around one of the actors, whose foot is pinned under a heavy appliance. 

Oddly, the actor seems more concerned about filming than getting his trapped foot out, and he’s yelling at everyone to stay out of the camera’s range. He’s dressed in a purple blazer, mask, and cape, and Rosie vaguely recalls seeing him on the only TV in the orphanage, but she’s never paid much attention to the show because liking violent TV shows wasn’t something a little girl would do (at least, some of the prospective parents she saw gave her that impression). 

The adults get out of the cart and go to assist the TV crew, telling Rosie to stay in her seat. The trapped actor scoffs at the newcomers. “Don’t you have some happy feel-good kiddy stuff to film?” he asks scathingly. 

The director rolls his eyes. “Nobody’s gonna watch you try to get yourself unstuck, Starling.” 

“Oh yes, they will,” Starling retorts. “I’m inspiring kids to get themselves out of sticky situations like this one.” He winces in pain, trying to pull his foot out, but grits his teeth and lies flat on his back, giving himself a quick breather before trying again.

Everyone rolls their eyes in frustration. 

Rosie knows she’s ignoring directions, but she gets out of the cart and cautiously approaches the adults. As she gets closer, she can tell that Starling’s foot is red and swollen, and he should probably get some medical attention because she’s pretty sure his bones are crushed too. 

Starling is the first one to spot her, and his beak scrunches up. “What is this? Another kid actor here to get ruined by some hotshot director’s grandiose dreams of the next blockbuster?” he snorts. 

“Hello, Mr. Starling, sir,” Rosie says. “My name’s Rosie King-Fisher, and this is my first day at this studio. The director and his crew have been really nice to me so far. How come you’re not letting them help you out?”

“Because Darkwing Duck doesn’t need help from anyone,” Starling scoffs. “He can get himself out of his own jams. So back off, kid.” 

“Is someone gonna have to cut off your foot?” Rosie asks. Her stomach churns at the very idea of it. “That’s what they did in this movie once. We didn’t get to see the ending because one of the orphanage workers turned it off, but a man tied a band around his leg and sawed through the entire thing to get free from the giant rock the bad guy dropped on him.”  

The adults around her make funny faces, some turning away and disguising barks of laughter as coughs. Starling didn’t seem to think it was funny though, and his face paled as his eyes flickered nervously between Rosie and his trapped foot. 

“I, uh, suppose it would be detrimental to Darkwing Duck’s duty to defeat despicable denizens,” Starling swallows. 

The appliance is finally moved off his foot, and sure enough the bones appear to be broken. Starling protests as he’s whisked off for medical attention, claiming he was still well enough to keep going. 

Meanwhile everyone else is half-amused, half-shocked that a little girl defeated Jim Starling. 

[makistar2018]

Inside Taylor Swift's Personal Diary Entries: Read All of the Biggest Revelations

By Tomás Mier August 24, 2019

Photo: DIA DIPASUPIL/GETTY

Lover of Diaries

Fans got an inside look at some of Taylor Swift’s most personal thoughts when they bought the deluxe version of her new album, Lover.

Along with some behind-the-scenes recordings, each album featured a 30-page booklet with excerpts from her personal diaries — some even from she was just 13!

“I’ve written about pretty much everything that’s happened to me. I’ve written my original lyrics in those diaries, just feelings,” she said on an Instagram Live announcing the booklets. “It’s everything from pictures drawn, photos of that time in my life, I used to like tape stuff in my diaries.”

Here are the top 10 takeaways from her personal diary entries.

Photo: CHRISTOPHER POLK/GETTY 

Swift the Lyricist

If the diary entries are filled with anything, it’s a deep dive into her song lyrics.

“Red” was born on a long flight — and everyone she played it for loved it.

“Its [sic] so different than anything we’ve done,” she wrote in 2011. “I can’t even tell you how alive and worthwhile I feel when I’m writing a new song and I finish it and people like it. It’s the most fulfilling feeling, like getting an A+ on your report card.”

The diaries also share early versions of “All Too Well” and songs like “Long Live,” “White Horse,” “Holy Ground” and “This Love.”

In a 2014 entry, she writes about the creation of her ultra-hit “Shake It Off.”

“The best way I know how to describe it is that the chorus just fell out of the sky,” she wrote in 2014.

“We all went home and I wrote the first and second verses and brought them in the next day. We wrote this chanty cheer leader bridge that I absolutely LOVE,” she continued.

As for the album cover that would accompany “Shake It Off,” she wrote that she “saw it within 10 seconds.”

“The craziest moment came when something caught my eye. The cover photo is photo 13. I kid you not,” she wrote about the polaroid cover to 1989, which she accompanied with a sketch.

Photo:  HENRY LAMB/BEI/REX/SHUTTERSTOCK

A Glamorous Gala

In a diary entry, Swift writes about being invited to “this event called ‘The Met Gala.’”

To an 18-year-old Swift, that day was “THE party of the year.”

“The paps started SCREAMING for me. It was crazy,” she wrote in May 2008. “We made our way up the red carpet, posing for everyone. All of the women looked so glamorous in their gowns.”

Along with meeting Anna Wintour, George Clooney, Julia Roberts and Giorgio Armani at the event, she wrote that “models stood as decorations, standing still and wearing gorgeous gowns.”

Once inside, she lists “every celebrity ever created” at the event, including Scarlett Johansson, Tom Brady, Beyoncé, Victoria Beckham, Tom Cruise and Jon Bon Jovi “who called me over to talk to him.”

Photo: LARRY BUSACCA/GETTY 

Borchetta's Beginnings

Weeks before the release of Lover, a public feud involving Swift and her old label Big Machine made headlines when the label’s founder Scott Borchetta sold the label (and ownership of her masters) to Scooter Braun.

But years before, Swift had nothing but kind things to say about the label founder who signed her.

After meeting with Capitol Records and not being offered “the deal I would want,” she met with Borchetta — and left with feelings of excitement.

“I really loved all the stuff he said in the meeting, and he stayed for the whole Bluebird show,” she wrote in November 2014. “And he’s SO passionate about this project. I think that’s the way we’re gonna go, I want to surround myself with passionate people.”

A meeting with Borchetta also made “Sparks Fly” as she came up with the name of her second album.

“We were talking about the record and I had this epiphany,” she wrote in April 2010. “I didn’t talk in interviews about how I felt about much of what has happened in the last two years. I’ve been silent about so much that I’m saying on this album. It’s time to Speak Now.”

“Scott freaked out. He loved it,” she wrote in April 2010. “We have a title, ladies and gentlemen!”

Photo: SPLASH 

"The Hunters Will Always Outnumber Me"

Swift also opens up about the lack of privacy that comes with being a celebrity — and how she’ll never get used to seeing “a group of people staring, amassed outside my house, pointing, camera phones up…”

“They could never imagine how much that feels like being hunted,” she wrote.

Swift compares her “mostly perfect life” to “being a tiger in a wildlife enclosure.”

“It’s pretty in there, but you can’t get out,” she described in the August 2013 note.

“No matter how big my house is or how many albums I sell, I’m still going to be the rabbit,” she added. “Because the hunters will always outnumber me. The spectators will stand by, shaking their heads, going ‘that poor girl.’ But the point is, they’re still watching. Everyone loves a good hunt.”

But her feelings about being “hunted” also translated into worrying about her generation’s obsession with taking photos “so that they can spend all day checking the comments underneath.”

“They will never truly experience a moment without attempting to capture it and own it,” she wrote, comparing pulling a flower from the ground to take photos. “Nevermind that picking a flower kills it, the same way taking a picture of a moment can ruin it altogether.”

Swift has notably kept comments off of her post to improve her mental health.

“I’m training my brain to not need the validation of someone telling me that I look 🔥🔥🔥,” she wrote in Elle. “I’m also blocking out anyone who might feel the need to tell me to ‘go die in a hole ho’ while I’m having my coffee at nine in the morning.”

Photo: AL MESSERSCHMIDT/GETTY

From Fearful to "Fearless"

Though Swift is now known for her jaw-dropping stage presence, as a young singer she wrote that she would “get stage fright every time I walk onto a stage.”

“I wish it wasn’t so, but I can’t blame my mind for freaking out about performances,” she wrote in 2010, days before releasing Speak Now. “Criticism of my performances has been the biggest source of pain in my life.”

“I sometimes feel like my college degree is in acting like I’m ok when I’m not,” wrote a 20-year-old Swift.

But even as a burgeoning singer at just 13, she would get hate while on stage. During one performance, her guitar pick broke in half and fell while she was playing.

“There was this huge silence! It was awful! I had to bend over and pick it up in front of everyone!” she wrote next to the broken pick. “And while I was singing, this guy was shouting stuff like, ‘Go on, b*#@! Sing that country bulls#*%! Go on motherf—!.’ It was awful.”

Photo: SCOTT GRIES/GETTY IMAGES

Done with Dieting

In her diaries, she also candidly writes about sticking to a diet as a teen.

Soon after Thanksgiving 2006, she returned to Nashville to her “own comfy bed” and planned to go out to eat with her best friend Abigail Anderson during a day off.  

“Oh and I’m dieting again,” she wrote right after.

“Over the holidays I didn’t watch what I ate and man its [sic] so weird how fast I can gain or lose weight… It’s crazy,” she ended the note. “So I’m going to lose some now.”

Earlier this year, she wrote about finally being okay with gaining weight.

“I learned to stop hating every ounce of fat on my body,” she wrote in Elle. “I worked hard to retrain my brain that a little extra weight means curves, shinier hair, and more energy.”

The “Daylight” singer also said that she’s constantly working on her body image.

“I think a lot of us push the boundaries of dieting, but taking it too far can be really dangerous. There is no quick fix,” she said. “I work on accepting my body every day.”

Photo: CHRISTOPHER POLK/GETTY IMAGES

"I'ma Let You Finish, But..."

“Ahh… the things that can change in a week…” wrote Swift in a Sept. 18, 2009 journal entry.

Five days had passed since Kanye West crashed Swift’s Video of the Year acceptance speech at the MTV Video Music Awards, but the whole ordeal was all she — and everyone else — could think about.

“If you had told me that one of the biggest stars in music was going to jump up onstage and announce that he thought I shouldn’t have won on live television, I would’ve said ‘That stuff doesn’t really happen in real life,’” she wrote.

“Well… apparently…. It does,” she ended the note.

Little did 19-year-old Swift know that West would cause more tumult in her life seven years later. In an August 2016 note, she simply wrote, “This summer is the apocalypse.”

The “apocalyptic” summer came when West referred to the singer as “that bitch”in his track “Famous” and featured a nude version of the “Shake It Off” singer in its accompanying video.

Then, Swift said she never approved of the lyric after his wife Kim Kardashianleaked a phone call conversation between the two singers.

“Being falsely painted as a liar when I was never given the full story or played any part of the song is character assassination,” she wrote then. That “Cruel Summer” ordeal would go on to inspire her sixth album, reputation.

Photo:  SPLASH NEWS

A Joe Alwyn “Love Story”

Like in Lover’s lyrics, Swift doesn’t hold back about her deep feelings for boyfriend Joe Alwyn in her personal diary.

Clearly writing about Alwyn, the singer confessed about wanting to keep their relationship under wraps as much as possible.

“I’m essentially based in London, hiding out trying to protect us from the nasty world that just wants to ruin things,” she wrote in a January 2017 note. “We have been together and no one has found out for 3 months now. I want it to stay that way because I don’t want anything about this to change or become too complicated or intruded upon.”

“But it’s senseless to worry about someday not being happy when I am happy now,” she concluded. “OK. Breathe.”

But Swift wasn’t always so sure about love being real — especially when it came to Valentine’s Day.

“I somehow feel like it’s my destiny to roll my eyes at happy couples and resent Valentine’s Day. I also feel like I’m the girl before ‘the one.’ I’m not ‘the one,’” she wrote at 19. “I’m the girl you think is the one for you, and when it doesn’t work out with me, you meet the next girl and realize she IS the one.”

And as a mere 13 year old, she imagined the first time she’d have her first kiss — and about being “such a romantic.”

“I just dream about looking into someone’s eyes and feeling something I’ve never felt before, you know?” she wrote. “I just never was able to put a face to my fantacy [sic]. But something tells me that my first kiss is really far away from happening!”

Photo:  LARRY BUSACCA/WIREIMAGE

The Night Before...

Before the 2014 Grammy Awards, Swift was confident her album Red would take home the biggest award of the night.

“It’s the middle of the night and I was at the Clive Davis party tonight which means… the Grammys are tomorrow,” she wrote. “Never have I felt so good about our chances. Never have I wanted something so badly as I want to hear them say ‘Red’ is the Album of the Year.”

Though she was up for four awards that year, Swift would head home empty handed.

Though she had won that award two years prior with Fearless, it wouldn’t be until her 2014 album 1989 that she’d take home the coveted prize again. In her 13-year career, Swift has won 10 Grammys from 32 nominations.

Photo:  MICHAEL LOCCISANO/FILMMAGIC

“This Might Be Worth Money Someday”

Though her diary entries are filled with some insight into the more complicated times in her life, the entries also feature some cute memories of her youth — including her middle school class schedule, some song lyrics and memories about listening to Sugarland for the first time.

Accompanied by drawings and the number 13, in her first journal entry, she signs her name and writes “(That could be worth money someday!! Just kidding hehe).”

Under “Journal #1,” a 13-year-old Swift writes a poem: “The world is as big as you make it / Never be shameful to fly / When a chance comes you should take it / May you never be scared of goodbye…”

After performing at a school talent show, Swift wrote: “I ❤ SCHOOL!”

Reminiscing on the grand day, Swift wrote, “I got a standing ovation and everything.”

People

[abrclub]

ABR Club Exclusive: Interview with Kip

If you've ever stopped by the merch table at an August Burns Red show, there's a good chance you've met their merch guy, Christopher "Kip" Hondru. Having been a fan of the band for nearly ten years, Kip and I developed a casual acquaintanceship through many merch table transactions over the years. While following ABR on The Phantom Anthem Tour in January and February, I had the chance to meet up with Kip in Milwaukee, WI where he gave me a tour of the historic Eagles Club venue and sat down afterwards to talk about tour life, photography, and how he spends his time when he's not on tour.

Photo by Ray Duker

David: How did you get the nickname Kip? Do you prefer Kip or Christopher?

Kip: It's something my sister called me when I was younger. Friends and family always call me that, and it just kind of stuck around. I'm told that Kip is a nickname of Christopher. In regards to which name I use when I'm introducing myself to somebody, it depends on who I'm with. If I'm with my friends, I'll introduce myself as Kip. If I'm some place where I'm by myself, I'll go straight to Christopher. I do like that name a little better, but I'm not picky. I was named after my grandfather, so I think that's why I like the name Christopher. I use Kip when I'm selling merch for ABR, unless I'm trying to be funny. Then I'll give them a funny name. Sometimes it's fun to mess with the kids [laughs].

David: How did you get introduced to ABR, and how did you start selling merch for them?

Kip: I grew up with a lot of the guys in the band, went to the same school (Manheim Central), and rode the school bus with JB. I've known Brent since second grade, so I've always been around and would always help out here and there with local shows. When I was in college I would go out with them during the summer or on weekends when time allowed it. In 2009 I came on full-time when our previous merch guy was looking to get out of it. I wanted to stop my 9-to-5 job and go on tour because my friends were doing some cool stuff.

David: Did you go to Manheim Central from 1st through 12th grade?

Kip: Yup, born and raised. JB and Brent went as well. Matt was homeschooled, and Jordan [Jordan Tuscan, the original bassist] was homeschooled along with Matt. Jon Hershey, the original singer, was in my grade. I knew him longer than I knew Brent, probably by about two years. JB was in the grade above us. Josh Bowman, our tour manager, was in JB's class.

David: What's it like in Manheim with August Burns Red? Does everybody know them, or know of them?

Kip: A lot of people do. When I meet someone and they're like "oh what do you do?", I tell them I work for a band. They'll ask "what band?" and I'll say August Burns Red, and they'll be like "oh I think I've heard of them!" or "oh I saw them in the newspaper the other day!" [laughs].

David: Where did you go to college, and what did you major in?

Kip: I went to The Art Institute of Philadelphia from 2003 to 2007 and majored in photography. I really excelled at digital output and large format printing. I also did a lot of traditional film photography as well and would mix the two mediums together, scan the negatives, and then print them out digitally. I used specialized cameras called large format cameras, which are unique to work with and something I enjoyed.

David: I know you have a camera collection. How many cameras do you have in your collection? Do you use them?

Kip: I'm not sure, maybe over 200. Not all of them are work. I try to use them, but other things have kept me busy recently. I always try to keep a camera around or on me. I have one on tour with me, but I've only shot two pictures so far [laughs]. A lot of what I shoot doesn't need to be rushed around, so I'm just amassing images. I have a spreadsheet of the cameras in my collection, but it's not up-to-date. I kind of stopped adding to it and recently sold a lot of cameras.

David: It's always surprised me that you're really into photography and collect cameras, yet you don't use Instagram. Why is that?

Kip: I was never much about posting and sharing a lot of things. I never really got into that. I'm trying to stay off my phone much as I can [laughs]. It becomes an annoying habit.

Editor's note: If you want to check out Kip's photography, visit www.christopherhondru.com.

David: You used to post on Twitter a lot about things that happened at shows while selling merch and you started the Shoes Got Weird photo series. What happened to that?

Kip: I just lost interest in that stuff. I do think that photo series was funny, as a quick off-the-hip kind of thing. That hashtag came out of one particular tour I was on. I was working for The Devil Wears Prada, and they would spend a lot of time at the mall on off days, so I would be walking around the mall with them killing time. We would walk into shoe stores, and I would be like "dude, shoes got weird! Look at these!", and then it just became a thing [laughs].

David: What's your favorite part of selling merch?

Kip: I can't pinpoint just one thing. It's a combination of a bunch of stuff, like traveling with my friends, seeing new sights, and continually meeting new people. Like you for example, and getting to recognize your face and getting to know your name, seeing you come back time and time again, and seeing how stoked you guys are as fans. It keeps me going just as much as it keeps the guys in the band going and excited. It'll be sad the day I stop touring, because I won't be able to see everybody who I'm acquaintances with as easily.

David: What are some of your favorite ABR merch items you've sold over the years?

Kip: I like selling guitar picks. They're fun, unique, and collectable. I've become a pick collector myself because of selling them, and I've met lots of pick collectors through that. Now I save some picks for certain people because I think they're great guys and I want to make sure they get some picks. I've got two of every pick we've sold ever since we started selling them at the merch table. Someday I'll put them all in a frame of some sort.

David: What are your favorite cities, venues, and places to eat on tour?

Kip: A lot of people ask me this question. My quick answer is I like a lot of the smaller college towns, particularly in the Midwest, like Spokane, Washington; Lawrence, Kansas; Tulsa, Oklahoma; Des Moines, Iowa; Missoula, Montana. Those are cool because they're smaller towns, so if I wanted to check something out it's not far away from the venue. I usually have limited time before a show to go check something out, so if I'm close enough I can maybe ride my skateboard there in half the time I could walk there. It's usually a cool cheeseburger joint, burrito shop, or a bar/brewery that I'd like to check out, maybe a skatepark sometimes.

David: I didn't know that you skate. Do you use a longboard or a normal skateboard?

Kip: Cruiser board, and some longboarding. Not as much as I used to. I used to skate in the skatepark when I was younger. I'm not trying to do any tricks anymore [laughs]. I'm strictly cruising around. I like snowboarding a lot. I don't get to do that much, so that's where longboarding comes into play. Being on Warped Tour really got me into that because it had a lot of parking lot space, so it was an easy way to get around. We had a group of friends who liked to skate and we would find cool hills. That was always fun and something I enjoyed about going on Warped Tour.

David: So do you bomb hills a little bit then?

Kip: Yeah [laughs], I'm not trying to get max speed, but I will carve pretty fast.

David: Besides cities, what are some of your favorite venues?

Kip: One of my favorite venues right now is The Fillmore in Philadelphia. It's a newer one, beautiful, it's good on all fronts. It has good parking for us, and there's an easy load-in. It's also in a cool neighborhood. There's lot of things to do around there. I also like Philadelphia a lot. A venue a lot of us like in in Belgium. It's called AB Brussels. It's a scenic venue too and state-of-the-art. It's completely soundproof, like you'll walk outside and have no clue there's a metal show going on inside [laughs]. It's in a historic town with lots of cool architecture, which is something I enjoy about touring. I like architecture and history and being able to see something that had some kind of tie to the past and is still around. This building (the Eagles Club) is an example. I really dig that stuff. Anything that's an old theater that's still being used is cool to me, especially if I can find an old picture of what it used to be.

David: What do you do when you're not on tour?

Kip: A lot of different hobbies, odd jobs, and things to make money where I can here and there. I don't actually look for other tours, but if they fall in my lap, sometimes I'll take them. Lately I've been really involved with making cider. I've been a longtime home-brewer, so I started making hard cider and learning about apples and different apple products. Living in Lancaster County, PA, there's a lot of farm history and barns that I'm intrigued by, so I'm exploring local history back home through the history of the apple.

David: What's your favorite kind of beer?

Me: I like all kinds of beers and ciders and the whole gamut of the spectrum. I don't have an absolute favorite, but I definitely like something that's very flavorful and hopefully 100% real ingredients and no adjuncts if that makes sense. That sounds kind of nerdy [laughs]. So like a good farm-based or orchard-based cider, rather than random ciders you're gonna find at any bar.

David: If someone is visiting Lancaster, what would you recommend they check out?

Kip: Drive into the country side if you can. Go see the farms and see an Amish buggy. There's lot of cool things to see in the city as well. There's Central Market which is the oldest farmer's market in the country. There's good food and stands to get produce. There's tons of restaurants and cafes. A lot of people like Prince Street Cafe. I like a lot of bar restaurants like Pressroom, Taproom Spring House, Lancaster Dispensing Company, The Fridge, Quips Pub, Lancaster County Brewing Company, Horse Inn, and Isaac's Restaurant.

David: Is there anything else you would like to add?

Kip: Come to the 15-Year Anniversary Show! We haven't talked about it yet, but we might do some cool merch items there. This is the first time it's on the record, I haven't said this to anyone else, but there's a small chance I might bring some of my personal poster collection there. I have a flat file cabinet at home with photos and posters I've collected over the years that have been piling up.

[darling-louis]

My Favorite

Synopsis: You’ve been a stagehand for the boys ever since their first tour. So far, you had done a great job at avoiding your favorite member (Liam), so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself. Eventually, your luck runs out.

Word Count: 3.5k!

“What’s up guys?! We’re One Direction!! Although you probably already knew that,” You chuckled at Liam’s little joke. “Anywayyyy, how’re you all doing tonight?!” The crowd roared. You could hear Liam’s voice ring through the speakers of the venue, which inevitably made you grin. “Good! We’re gonna start with an oldie, let’s see if you lot remember it.” The beat to C’mon, C’mon starts playing, one of your favorites. It reminded you of when you first met the boys, all that time ago.

During their first tour, you were given the job of making sure everything was plugged in and set up for the boys. You got paid a hefty chunk of cash every month and you definitely weren’t complaining since you were secretly a fan of the band (Though you tried to keep that part of your life on the down-low so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself). During the set-up and practice for one of the concerts off of the first album, you had accidentally tripped on one of the thousands of cords towards the back of the stage and were thoroughly embarrassed—not to mention extremely red. You tried to get up and hobble around, but it hurt too much and you just ended up back on the ground wincing in pain.

The boys were walking onstage, about to warm up for their practice. They were all having one big conversation about which Kardashian was the sexiest (Liam had the most to say on this topic), and went up to their mics. On the way there, Liam turned around and saw you sitting on the floor, obviously in pain. “Are yeh okay, love?”

“Uhm, not really. I think I sprained my ankle. I can’t seem to get up on my own, so looks like I might spend the rest of my life right here on this stage.” You made a sad attempt of a joke to hide your nerves since this was the first time you’ve ever spoken to your favorite member of One Direction. You mentally face-palmed yourself.

Liam chuckled, “Not if I have anythin’ to do with it. Seems like I ‘ave to Save You Tonight,” he winks at you, which made you blush immensely. Liam helped you up and let you lean on him while walking you to a chair towards the back of the stage. You could still see the boys from where you were, which was good. Watching them practice always brings a smile to your face. It’s crazy how much energy they have, you’re always tired, yourself. You’re essentially Sleepy the Dwarf.

He sat you down in your chair gently and you gave him a grateful smile, which he returned. That’s why Liam was your favorite, he was always so polite and kind. He reminded you of a little puppy.

“Payno where are ya?!” you heard Niall yell up from the front on stage.

Liam gave a small sigh while giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Ni! Had to save a damsel in distress!” he yelled back.

“I gotta go, but I hope your ankle is okay.” Liam started jogging towards the front of the stage, but not before he told one of the crew members about your ankle, who said they would “get right on it.”

You smiled to yourself as you watched the boys practice and jump around rambunctiously on stage. Your first interaction with Liam wasn’t that bad, you thought.

—————————

“Mate, are ya sure you’re alrigh’? You’ve been in your head all day.” Niall asked. The boys were all walking back to the tour bus, they had just finished up practice.

“Yeh, jus’ thinkin’.” Liam replied. Truth is, he couldn’t shake the thought of you out of his mind. Ever since saw you on that floor and heard you make that terrible joke, you’ve been in his thoughts. “Say, mate, d’ya know who that girl was? The one I helped before we practiced?”

Louis snickered. “Ohhhh, so that’s where ya‘ve been! Payno’s little damsel in distress, hmmm?” He elbowed Liam jokingly, poking fun at him.

“I dunno mate, I jus’ can’t seem to get her out of my head.”

Harry speaks up, “Actually, she’s been here since the first tour, but I guess you were too busy with Danielle then.”

Liam blows a raspberry. “D’ya know which bus she stays on?”

“Probably the one for the setup crew, genius.” Zayn jokes.

“Am I really the only one who hasn’t noticed her before? I’ll catch up with you lot later. Save me a drink.” Liam glares at Niall before turning and jogging his way towards what he assumed was your tour bus.

—————————

You were comfortably laying in your bunk in your pj’s (some random pajama pants an old tee that you threw on), just scrolling through your instagram feed. You had amassed quite a bit of followers since you worked for 1D. A few times, one of the boys had tagged you in some behind-the-scenes photos, but never Liam. Then again, he was with Danielle when you joined the team, so he probably didn’t notice that you even existed, with her being so breathtakingly gorgeous and all.

A knock at the door interrupted your endless scrolling. You groaned. Jake probably wanted you to do more work because no one had told him that you were injured. There’s a serious communication problem with some of the people on this team. You went up to get to door, already pissed off with the rest of the team.

“Jake! Look bud, I can’t work right now! Maybe no one has told you—“ You voice caught in your throat when you opened the door to see the beautiful, puppy-of-a-man, Liam James Payne standing right there before you.

“Sorry, love. ‘M’not Jake, but maybe that’s a good thing…?” Liam furrowed his fuzzy brows, trying to figure out what you were on about.

You were thoroughly embarrassed, and were turning quite red. Liam saw this and tried to utter some sort of comfort, “Don’ worry ‘bout it, don’ be embarrassed! I just came by for a friendly visit!”

Now it was your turn to furrow your not-so-fuzzy brows. Liam hadn’t so much as glanced at you during these past few years of working for the band. Why did he want to start now? “Okay..have a seat?” You motioned to the nearby couch. Liam took a seat, you sat on the loveseat across from it, within reaching distance of him.

Liam grinned up at you like a child. Even though you were extremely confused, Liam didn’t miss a beat. He didn’t let the conversation dry out or go dull even once. Part of the “Payno Charm”, you guessed.

“So, how have I not known about you? The boys say you’ve been here ever since the first tour.”

You let out a small chuckle. “Yep,” you popped the P as you said this, “But then again, I’m just one of the many stagehands. Nothing significant about little ol’ me.”

“I know nearly everyone on the team. Maybe you were avoiding me, huh?” Liam joked, or maybe he was flirting. You couldn’t tell.

The funny thing is, his theory actually made sense. Since he was you favorite, you were always super worried about not making a fool of yourself in front of him. You hadn’t meant to avoid him, it just happened. Whenever he walked up to the guys, you finished your conversation and left, immediately getting butterflies just from the sight of him.

“Y/N? Wait a minute…you were avoiding me weren’t you? I was only joking!” He looked a little upset at this. This certainly wasn’t what you wanted.

“Want to know the truth?” You started apprehensively, playing with the loose thread on your pajama pants while looking at the floor.

“The truth is always the best route.” He nodded, telling you to go on.

“This is embarrassing...but ever since you lot were on the x-factor I’ve been a huge fan. You were always the one I rooted for the most, even with your outrageously long side-swept bangs,” Liam shook his head and laughed at this part. You continued, “I guess since I’ve admired you for so long, I was terrified of making a fool of myself when we met, even more so than I was with the other boys—which doesn’t really make sense, since you’re the nicest. Geez, you probably think I’m some weird fangirl now.” (You didn’t mention the fact that you had a blog specifically for Liam).

“Y/N, you didn’t faint or cry when I came up to yeh earlier today, I think it’s safe to say that you’re not some ‘weird fangirl.’” He gave you another one of his signature kind smiles. You smiled back, which only made him smile more.

You sat like that, across from but close to each other, just smiling and looking at the other one’s eyes. “Pardon me if I’m being too forward, Y/N, but I think you’re absolutely, gobsmackingly gorgeous.” Your inhaled sharply, taken by surprise. He didn’t look away from your eyes as he said this, like most guys would. He was confident in these type of situations, you thought.

You kept your gaze at his eyes, not daring to look away. The room was dead silent, except for your (what you imagined was heavy, being as flustered as you were) breathing.

Liam reached his hand across the space between the couch and the loveseat, slowly taking yours in his. You closed your eyes gently, savoring every moment, never wanting it to end. When his hand gently slipped across yours, your heart sped up. You shuddered at the feeling of his soft, slightly calloused hands. He held it lightly, giving it a reassuring squeeze. When you opened your eyes, he was still gazing intently up at you.

Suddenly there was rapid knocking at the door, startling you both, making Liam drop your hand. You involuntarily pouted, mentally killing whoever was outside.

“Oh, Paynooooo,” you heard Louis sing through the door. “I don’t see a sock on the door, so I’m assuming the both of you are doing something G-rated, like playing checkers.”  You heard what sounded like Niall snicker behind the door.

Liam rolled his eyes and groaned. He got up from the couch as you remained seated, not sure what you should do.  “Oi! Stuff it, Lou!” Liam shouted as he made his way to the door, opening it to reveal the two boys, both with amused smirks on their faces. You blushed and pretended to busy yourself with your phone.

“You’re needed at soundcheck, Payno. Truly sorry to interrupt you kiddies.” Louis winks at you.

“Another one? They’re really bustin’ our chops after Zayn’s mic stopped working last concert, huh?” He looks back to you with sad eyes, “Sorry, Love. We’ll catch up later, yea?”

“Yea..” You can’t help but feel somewhat deflated and depressed as the boys left you alone with your thoughts. You figured it was time for a nap, you could never go wrong with one of those.

——————

After soundcheck, the boys were filled with energy, not to anyone’s surprise. They all decided to go to the nearby beach for a quick dip before dinner. Liam was definitely in the mood for some surfing, and so was Louis. The two rarely got the chance to enjoy a nice wave with all the touring they do, not to mention the fact that two full-size surfboards take up so much space on the bus.

As they’re all walking down the beach, people are already starting to notice. Paps are here snapping pictures, how they knew the guys would be here, nobody knew. Liam cheekily posed for a few of them, just to lighten the mood. The others ignored them for the most part.

Who they didn’t ignore is their fans, who came up to them while tanning. Only a few, maybe 4 or 5. Regardless, they were all happy to sign something and snap pictures with the girls. It was nice when fans were pleasant like these were, not overbearing and screaming. Once they got a few hugs and pictures, they went on their way. Plus, it made the guys feel good when they saw the smiles on the girls’ faces. They were somebody’s reason to smile, that feeling never got old.

As Liam and Louis separated from the rest of the guys to go catch some waves, the talking and joking ceased. Both boys were admiring the mesmerizing sound of the waves crashing upon the shore. The water was a striking color of blue today, almost too pretty to touch. That’s what Liam thought of Y/N, too pretty to touch. Just like that, she consumed his thoughts again. Both boys went on their own conquest to find waves to ride, giving congratulatory smiles and a thumbs up whenever the other successfully caught one.

—————

The sun was setting as Louis and Liam jogged back towards the rest of the group, surfboards in tow. Zayn was trying to bury Niall, who was snacking (nevermind the fact that they were literally about to leave for dinner), and Harry was reading a book of poetry with the last rays of sunlight.  

“Can’t leave you three alone for anything, can we?” Louis sassed, referring to Niall’s new home in the sand.

“Oi, maybe this time Niall won’t burn!” Zayn joked, still shoveling sand onto the poor irishman, who was seemingly unphased by what was happening.

“You know who else we can’t leave alone?” Louis wriggled his eyebrows towards Liam, who sighed heavily. “Big Payno here, was about to get some with lovely little Y/N earlier.”

Niall and Louis both snickered again as they recalled what happened earlier. Liam was glad the sun was setting, otherwise the other boys would tease him endlessly for blushing so much.

“Hush up, Louis! I don’t need all the tabloids in the world knowing about my sex life!”

“Oh, so you admit it!” Louis jumps and claps his hands together excitedly—he really is a little kid.

“Guys, I think I’m in trouble with this one. There’s something about her...Something that makes me want to know her and protect her from the world.”

“Spoken like a true softy,” Niall joked, “‘Though if ya keep at ‘er, maybe you’ll ‘ave more dan a softy, eh??”

“NIALL.” Liam chucks his towel at him, narrowly missing and hitting Harry instead, who was still in another world filled of poetry.

“Oi!” Harry shouts angrily.

“Sorry, H.”

Zayn clears his throat and speaks up, “Though on a real note, Liam, I think you should seriously go for it. Regardless of if it works out or not, I really think that you’ll both enjoy your time together, and that’s really all that matters, mate. She’s a great girl. I’ve had only a handful of conversations with her, but she’s always so bright and cheerful, like yourself. I think you two would be rather cute together.”

Liam blushed again, even though none of the boys could see it since it was now fully dark out.

“Guyssss,” Niall started whining, “Can we pleaseee go get some dinner now?”

“Idea: Maybe we could even invite Y/N. We can be Liam’s wingmen and what-not.” Harry pipes up. A true sap for romance, he was.

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll shoot her a text.” Zayn replied, pulling out his phone. “I got her number awhile back when she used to get a few of us coffee often. I’m telling you, Liam, she’s basically the female version of you.” Zayn lightly punches Liam in the shoulder, both boys grinning.  

Needless to say, Liam was pretty excited for dinner, and not just because of the food.

—————

You were in your trailer binge-watching Catfish when your phone chimed, signaling that you had a text. When you picked up your phone and saw that it was from Zayn, your interest definitely piqued. He hadn’t texted you since last month. Weird.

Z: Do you want to come to dinner with me and the lads? We can pick you up. Its that seafood place right by the beach

Would Liam be there? Man, you hoped so.

Sure!, you replied.

Z: Good! Be there in 30 minutes :)

Now, what were you going to wear?

——————

You all were seated at a large round table, waiting for your food. You sat in between Liam and Zayn, ever so thankful for the invitation to join them for dinner.

“Oh, come on! Everybody has a favorite member!” Louis rolled his eyes. He’s been trying to get you to rank all of them for the past 5 minutes. Quite a bugger, he was.

You blushed and looked quickly at Liam, who shrugged. Finally, you gave in to Louis’ seemingly endless torment.

You gave an exasperated and over-dramatic sigh. “Fine, Louis. From most to least favorite, it’s Liam, Zayn, Harry, Niall, and then you.” You purses your lips and narrowed your eyes at him. Serves him right.

Louis raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m all the way at the bottom?! This is a disgrace. You’re a disgrace Y/N.”

You roll your eyes. Such a drama queen, always has been. The other boys snicker at your sass towards Louis.

“So Liam’s your favorite, eh?” Niall smirks and looks between you two.

“This is why you’re second to last, Horan.”

——————

You woke up to a rapid knocking at your trailer door. You looked at the clock: 3 AM. Nobody in their right mind would wake you up this early in the morning, it must have been something horrible.

You groped around in the dark for the doorknob, your eyes not fully adjusted to the pitch black of the room just yet. Finally finding it, you poked your head out a tad to see Liam. He was swaying slightly. A big, dopey grin broke out on his face when he saw you. “Y/N!”

You swung the door open fully, letting him come in. He was obviously drunk. Why he was at your door, you had no idea. Nevertheless, a drunk Liam was still a Liam. “Y/N, d’ya know yeh have the prettiest eyes I think I’ve ever seen?” He hiccuped and grabbed your hand, pulling you onto his lap. You were too tired to react any differently.

“Say, that bed looks mighty cozy. ‘Aven’t had a good cuddle in a while….Can we cuddle, Y/N? You’re so warm and pretty, please let’s cuddle.” He was rambling at this point, but a cuddle did sound good to you, and who were you to reject your favorite boy? You nodded and made your way to the bed.

“I’ll be the big spatula. Spoons are bad.” You chuckled at this. Liam sounded just like a child. At least he was a happy, cuddly drunk.

He flopped onto the bed and sloppily got under the still-warm covers. He held his arms out for you to get in, and you happily obliged. He sighed when you were pressed up against his chest. “Been wantin’ this for awhile, Hun. You don’ even know.”

Your heart sped up in your chest. This was just like a dream. You only hoped that when morning came, and he wasn’t drunk anymore, he wouldn’t be upset by what he was doing right now.

You nestled into his chest, his arms tight around you. He smelled like expensive cologne that you wanted to breathe in forever. You were lulled to sleep by his rhythmic breathing.

—————

When you awoke, you were still held tight in Liam’s arms. You shifted a bit, trying to pull the covers up over the both of you. You froze when Liam shifted and groaned sleepily.

He sat up with a fright, looking around wide-eyed and confused. “Y/N?”

“..Yea?” Here it came. The regret and embarrassment.

“Did we sleep together?”

“Yes. Well, we fell asleep together, nothing happened except for cuddling,” You looked at him sheepishly, “You came to my door at 3 AM drunk and begged for a cuddle. You even used your little puppy dog eyes.”

Liam chuckled roughly, voice still scratchy from the night’s rest. “Well, I’ll have to thank Drunk-Liam next time I see him. He seems to have more confidence than I do when it comes to the ladies.” He brushed a few strands of hair from out of your face as you both laid across from each other, tangled up in the covers. “Yeh look mighty pretty in the mornings, Hun. So pretty, you’re not letting me think straight. And your lips…” He traced them with his finger, “...I could kiss you right now, you know.” He whispered.

You shuddered. “You’re very welcome to do it.”

And just like that, Liam shuffled closer to you and closed the space between both of your faces. His lips passionately, but softly, against yours. Your hand went into the dip on his side, his went around your back, pulling you closer towards him, lips never leaving each other.

You finally broke free for air, both gasping. You’d dreamed of that since you were a teenager, but he didn’t need to know that. Even with all the fanfictions you wrote about him, this kiss wasn’t like anything you’d ever imagined—it was so much better. Liam Payne was quite the kisser.

[foryouandbits]

Please write it! If you want to...I understand that pushing fic writers can be stressful. I guess I just mean that I would love to read it if you want to write it!

Okay, okay, twist my arm, will ya? This is not at all angsty, but here is Jack and Bitty getting into a fender-bender, and Bitty showing that he’s been in Boston for far too long. Rated T for swearing and implied sexytimes. (Read on AO3)

They were both in the car when it happened, headed from the Haus to Jack’s apartment for the weekend. It was one of those rare times their schedules synced up for more than a day – Jack was coming off the high of winning yet another home game, and was headed into a four-day weekend before travelling to Carolina to start their next away trip. He still had practice, as usual, but it seemed almost like a vacation, getting to sleep in his own bed for so many nights in a row. Bitty, on the other hand, had a game Sunday afternoon, but he was looking at almost forty-eight hours of Jack time.

Rush hour hadn’t quite started yet, but it was getting there as Bitty maneuvered Jack’s car through city streets toward the highway. It was another rarity – getting to drive Jack’s car. Most of the time Jack drove, fiercely protective and unwilling to budge when it came to Bitty’s safety, but when they left the Haus Bitty asked, “Can I drive this time?” and thoroughly expected Jack to say no. However, Jack tossed him the keys and Bitty stared at them for five full seconds before he sat behind the wheel.

He was never going to be allowed to drive again.

Bitty could have gunned it through the yellow light two blocks from the I-95 onramp, but years of experience with Jack’s old man driving made him think twice about it and instead he came to a hard stop just before the white line. The person behind Bitty seemed to think he could have gunned it through the yellow light too, because as the car came to a complete stop, a surge and a sickening crunch pushed both forward into the automatic airbags.

“That motherfucker hit us!” Bitty yelled after the collision of his face with the airbag.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked immediately. Jack’s seatbelt was off and his hands were already on Bitty’s arms to check for damage. “Bits, look at me. Are you okay?”

Bitty had spun in his seat already, looking out the back window at the car behind them. There wasn’t much to see since the collision had popped the trunk, but Bitty could see the crinkle of gray metal that was the rear of Jack’s car. Bitty returned to facing forward in his seat only when Jack physically spun him in that direction.

“Yes, sweetie, I’m fine,” said Bitty with a passive hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. We’re both fine. Excuse me while I get out of this car and give that asshole back there a piece of my mind.”

“You’re not supposed to leave the car after an accident! I’m calling 911 right now. Are you sure you’re okay? Is your neck okay?”

“I’m fine, Jack,” said Bitty through his teeth. He unbuckled his belt and opened the door, despite Jack’s grasping hands attempting to keep him in the vehicle.

The other driver was a forty-something man with a horrible mustache and a Patriots sweatshirt. He was also out of the car and headed toward Bitty with both of his hands up in the air. “Where the fuck’d you learn to drive, kid? Get your ass back in Rhode Island where it belongs.”

“Listen, asshole,” yelled Bitty, “I’m from Atlanta. I know about traffic. I also know about red lights, which you apparently don’t.”

“That light was barely yellow! You had plenty of time to go through it!”

“And you had plenty of time to stop! Just give me your damn insurance card so I can go home.”

The man’s face fell and Bitty felt cold all over.

“Ah,” he said, “you see… I’m kind of… in between insurances right now.”

“You don’t have insurance?” Bitty yelled. “Did you spend all your money on Patriots’ gear?”

The window lowered, drawing Bitty’s attention from the man’s increasingly red face. Bitty looked at Jack, who was leaning over the center console. “Bits,” he said. “The cops’ll be here in a minute. Get back in the car.”

“Not right now, Jack, I’m dealing with this asshole who doesn’t fucking have insurance,” said Bitty.

“Yeah, you should get in the car, Bits,” said Jack.

Instead of getting back in the car, Bitty took out his phone and began to take several pictures. The back of Jack’s car was crunched beyond repair; Bitty would be surprised if the insurance company didn’t total it. The front of the culprit’s car was equally destroyed, but by the looks of it, the vehicles took most of the impact. Bitty could already tell his neck was going to be sore in the morning, but it wouldn’t require medical attention. Bitty was sure to get the other man’s license plate in the shot, just in case he decided to skedaddle before the cops arrived.

“Stop taking pictures of my fucking car,” the man said.

“I’m taking as many pictures as I can so you can’t even begin to say this is my fault. I stopped for a red light. You didn’t stop at all,” said Bitty.

“Bittle!” yelled Jack through the window. “Get back in the car!”

Bitty didn’t, more riled up with anger than common sense, and continued to walk around both cars taking photos with his phone with little regard to the other cars on the street that were honking and yelling out open windows for them to clear the road.

“Stop taking pictures of my car!”

“Bittle!”

Jack finally got out of the car as well and took two steps toward Bitty, who was still snapping pictures. “Bitty,” he said. “Get in the car. Let’s get off the road before you get hit by someone trying to go around us.”

“Holy shit,” said the man. “You’re Jack Zimmermann.” Bitty shot an annoyed look at him; he no longer had any edge of a threat to his voice.

“Yes, and you just hit my car,” said Jack. “We’re going to pull over and out of everyone’s way. My boyfriend has pictures of your car, so I suggest you do the same. There’s the cops now.” Jack nodded toward flashing lights down the street, headed in their direction. “Bittle. Car. Now.”

Bitty made his way toward the driver’s side, but Jack pushed him in the other direction. “No, you’re never driving this car again.”

Bitty buckled himself into the passenger’s seat and quietly allowed Jack to pull the car out of the street and into the parking lot of the gas station at their intersection. When Jack shut the car off, Bitty reached for his belt buckle again, only to have Jack place a gentle hand on top of his.

“No,” Jack said firmly. “Stay here.”

“But the cops –”

“I’ll handle the cops. You stay here. That man was thirty seconds from punching you in the face.”

“He’s just an asshole without insurance,” said Bitty. “He could have seriously hurt us. You’re okay, right? How’s your neck?”

“I might get it checked by the team doctor tomorrow before practice, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine,” said Jack. “Are you okay? You look okay – but are you okay? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you riled up like this. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear this much in my life, even when… well. You know.”

Bitty could see the smirk on Jack’s lips as he let his last sentence linger, which caused an unexpected change in Bitty’s blood flow. “Do you like it?” Bitty asked.

“I do,” said Jack quietly.

“Hopefully this won’t take long,” said Bitty. “I’m amassing quite a bit of aggression right now. I need to let it out.”

Jack’s pupils dilated and Bitty squirmed in his seat.

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Jack.

Ten minutes and a couple of name drops later, Jack and Bitty were in an Uber back to the apartment with assurances that everything would be handled by Boston PD. Thirty minutes after that, Jack tossed Bitty onto their bed with a request to continue swearing a blue streak, and Bitty, still incensed from the accident and Jack’s reaction, was happy to oblige.

[arplis]

Arplis - News: How to Keep it Simple with Your Camper Van Conversion

If you have dreams of traveling and camping in a photoshoot-worthy campervan, youre not alone. Lots of people are inspired by the beautiful campervan conversions they see on social media. But do you really need your camper to look like something out of a catalogue? Or do you simply want to live and camp comfortably while traveling?

The reality of converting a van into a campervan is that everything you add has the potential to create more work and more issues when youre on the roadnot to mention the upfront time and money youll need to install every fancy feature you find on Pinterest.

When I bought my GMC Vandura and started living in it part-time, simplicity was my focus. I wanted to seriously downsize my life, so I didnt want to fill my van with too many extras.

The Key to a Successful Campervan Conversion? Keep it Simple.

The van life movement is rooted in minimalism. The VW van-dwellers of the 60s didnt have Pinterest to source ideas from. They lived and camped in their camper vans as a way to escape the confines of too many possessions. And the recent resurgence of van-love, now replete with a hashtag (#vanlife), grew in tandem with the tiny house obsession, along with the idea that less is more. People wanted to reinvent the American Dream, without expensive mortgages and working their lives away to pay the bills. They wanted to get outside more. Mobile living (including tiny homes, vans, RVs etc.) offered a simpler version of comfort, along with mobility, freedom, and low-cost living.

Kelly S. is keeping it simple with her 2002 Chevrolet Express camper van conversion.

But as this alternative lifestyle has turned into mainstream clickbait, the minimalism is sometimes overshadowed by expensive Sprinter van build-outs and elaborate rigs.

Now, dont get me wrong. I love a gorgeously curated interior. I bet you do, too. But the reality is I dont have the budget or the time for all the bells and whistles. And when Im sleeping at campgrounds, I really dont need them. If youre looking to turn your van into a camper van, you might not be interested in the fancy build-outs either.

Whether youre parking at campgrounds or boondocking, you dont have to spend tens of thousands of dollars in converting a van into a camper van.

Lets break down the things you do need in your simple camper van conversion

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Camp fire in the woods

. . . . #campfire #campfirecooking #camplife #camping #campinghacks #adventure_culture #adventureland #adventurers #outdoorliving #gooutdoors #vanlifecamping #vanlifeexplorers #vanlifeproject #welovecamping #Mountkidd #rvparklife #summeradventure #coupleswhocamp #campgoals #campvibes #weliveinavan #modernnomad #modernmillennial #lifeofadventure #twogirlsonevan #exploretheoutdoors #explorers #lesbianswhocamp #gaysinthewoods

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Two Girls One Van

(@two_girls_one_van) on May 30, 2018 at 3:29pm PDT

5 Things to Focus on for a Simpler Campervan Conversion

I spoke to some fellow vanlifers some of them live in their vans full-time, others camp in their vans on weekends to round out my own advice on what you need for a simple van conversion.

M own camper van conversion is a 1986 GMC Vandura. Its old and creaky and slightly unreliable, but (most of the time) I love it, and its perfect for camping.

A Bed

The bed is the foundational difference between a van and a campervan. (Related: once you have a bed in your van, its officially an RV, according to AAA, and youll need their RV coverage if you ever want a tow. I discovered that on the side of the highway in Seattle.)

Ive seen vans with the backseats removed and a mattress thrown in. Ive even seen a hammock strung up inside of a van, which can be easily removed to maximize living space when youre not sleeping.

My van came with a bed that folds into itself to create a bench seat. Its similar to this one, built by @gnomad_home:

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Everyone has been asking us how our couch to bed situation works in our #van! So we decided to make this little #timelapse video for you all to see! Thanks for all the questions and compliments so far, and feel free to keep 'em coming!!

A post shared by Jayme

John

Nymeria

Delilah (@gnomad_home) on Mar 5, 2017 at 12:43pm PST

But I keep mine out like a bed all the time, and find the bed works fine for sitting and occasionally working on my laptop. If I did a camper van conversion myself, I wouldnt bother with the fold-up feature.

The vanlifers behind Two Wandering Soles built a super simple platform bed in the back of their Chevy, and they offer detailed instructions on how to make your own.

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The sleeping area! A custom cut (bigger than) king sized mattress! It fills the back of the Doka and creates a HUGE bed!

>>>

@Vanlifeing_com >>> #ThisisVanlifeing Captured by@vwdoka

A post shared by Vanlife Calendar 2020

(@camper.lifestyle) on Jun 21, 2018 at 12:11pm PDT

When it comes to bedding, Im a big fan of an excessive number of pillows. And Im kind of in love with my Pendleton wool blanket. But now that the weather is warming up, its much too hot. I love the concept of the Rumpl blanket its made out of sleeping bag material which stays nice and cool, but also keeps you warm. Plus, my dogs hair wont stick to it, like it does with the wool blanket. I dont have one yet, but its on my list for summertime van camping.

Power + Light

Theres something special about being in the van at night. I drove miles up into the coastal mountains of Oregon to reach Horse Creek Campground on my first van camping trip. The dark tunnel of dirt road was eery, as I drove further and further away from civilization. But then I reached the nearly empty campground, turned on my collection of Christmas lights, strung around the vans ceiling, turned off the headlights, and felt right at home.

The thing is, if you want to do anything in your van at night, youre going to need light. Ive amassed more and more Christmas lights, which I plug in to The Lycan Powerbox from Renogy. If I want to read, I also turn on a little lantern I have hanging over the bed.

My lights, computer, and fan can all run at once from The Lycan Powerbox. So I have power for camping or working in a Starbucks parking lot (as Im doing, here).

I have a foldable lantern in the storage compartment over the drivers seat in my camper van conversion, so I can see to find my clothes. And a few smaller lights scattered around the van, so theres always one in arms reach when I climb in and need to see before I accidentally step in my dogs water bowl.

The UCO Gear Sitka Lantern is another appealing option. The extendable arm can give you light from above, which is especially handy when cooking or reading.

Im also a big fan of battery operated twinkle lights. Theyre not great for reading, but they give my van a cozy vibe for nighttime relaxation.

My dog, Jackson, likes the twinkle light vibe. He does not like it when I shine my headlamp in his face to take a photo.

Because you can never have enough options when it comes to your ability to see in the dark, I also keep a headlamp on hand. Ledlenser Headlampsare so much brighter than most headlamps Ive tried. Stick one behind your gallon of water for a makeshift lantern when its not on your head.

Fellow van camper Kelly S. also keeps it simple when it comes to lights:I didnt want to mess around with wiring a van, storing an extra battery, figuring out how to charge an extra battery, etc, so I have hooks on the ceiling for battery powered LED lanterns. This way, theyre portable too, and you can use them outside of the van!

Econoline-dweller Rachel loves her LED lights for keeping things simple, too: For lights I have an LED strip that plugs into USB and I just use those little backup phone batteries and switch them out and charge them through my lighter while Im driving.

Shelly S. is hooked on LUMINAID. I get the Cairn subscription box, which is how I received the initial run of this awesome little lantern and have been stuck to it ever since.

Water

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We recently upgraded our water tanks. We bought 3 taller tanks that fit in the same space as our 2 old tanks. We now have ~ 15 gallons of water which can last 1-2 weeks depending where we are and what we're doing. Great decision. #garageviews

A post shared by Megan Cable (@meganmcable) on Jun 7, 2018 at 2:49pm PDT

Rule number #1 with any type of camping: Bring more water than you think youll need. This isnt hard when youre van camping theres plenty of room! But you have a bunch of options when it comes to water storage.

Kelly S. shares how she sourced her best van ideas from traditional tent camping, including water.

For water I have a 7-gallon aquatainer. If you need drinking water? Theres a spout right there! Coupled with a tub on the floor underneath the split, you have a sink to wash your hands, too! Having it bungee corded in place for transport works great, and then if you want to spread out somewhere you stop, you can take it out!

Related Reading:

This Family is Building a Modern Camper Out of Free Materials Found on Craigslist

When it comes to water storage, you really cant beat the classic big blue jug. The Reliance Aqua-Tainer 7 Gallon holds plenty of water for a summer weekend of water drinking, dish washing, and the occasional foot rinse after a barefoot stroll around the campground. Just make sure you have a way to secure it to the floor when youre bouncing down dirt roads.

As for showers, if your van is strictly for camping, then you can usually rely on campground bathrooms for bathing or simply embrace the dirt while youre out there.

If you want to get a little crafty, you can add a makeshift outdoor shower to the roof of your van with ABS piping and a hose.

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One afternoon last spring, we wandered into a Home Depot and stared up at the black ABS piping in the plumbing section. Keith figured there had to be some way to make a shower outta that stuff. Wed mount it to our @yakimaracks roof rack, the sun would warm it up, and gravity would send it down. And thats exactly what it does. Simple. Just like everything else we have goin on in this home of ours. We dont have a fridge, we have a cooler. We dont have LED lighting, we have an old string of Christmas lights. We dont have air conditioning, we have wet rags and a tiny tower fan we got for 9 bucks. We dont have a toilet, we havethe groundand Starbucks.. What Im saying is, you can install plumbing in your van if you want toyou can spend months on end googling every tutorial on earth if you want toyou can pay big money to build out the most well-equipped vehicle around if you want to We simply hope to serve as a reminder that you dont necessarily *have* to.

A post shared by Brianna Madia (@briannamadia) on Apr 3, 2018 at 7:50am PDT

Since I sometimes spend several weeks in my van, I wanted to have a place to wash my face and brush my teeth. I relied on disposable face wipes and gym bathrooms for the first few months. But then my friends at Wood Intimations built a gorgeous sink that is super simple and looks great and its been a game changer.

The pump faucet draws water from a 4 gallon jug beneath the sink, and gray water drains down into a hole in the van floor, so I dont have to empty anything.

It also provides some much needed counter space, and a little shelf for storing those tiny things that always get lost in the van, like the remote to my twinkle lights and my chapstick!

Organization

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TO ALL WEEKEND WARRIORS

. . #doit #doitagain #comfortzone . . #ontheroad #optoutside #wanderlust #nature #vwcalifornia #vankit #freedom #solitude #stayandwander #wilderness #rygg #vegan #croatia #roadtrip #issiontour #vanpuppy #explore #adventure #vaninterior #handmade #bagdesign #travel

A post shared by VANTALE (@van.tale) on Jun 8, 2018 at 8:31am PDT

Organization is so important for your sanity when living or camping in a camper van conversion. Even if youre a minimalist guru who wears one outfit and lives off protein bars, youre going to manage to collect more stuff than you think.

And if your lighting isnt great, its going to be even more difficult to find that stuff.

Staying organized will make you feel like you have a handle on the whole #vanlife thing. Organization can be as simple as a few plastic bins that can slide under your bed. Just make sure you know exactly what youre storing in each of them. (Clear storage containers are ideal so you can see whats in there when you inevitably forget.)

Shelly S. camps in her 4Runner. Its not a van, but the same concepts apply, she tells me. Organization is important for her, too. Mountainsmith has some nice storage cubes soft sided and stuffable. That being said, you can do about the same with those free cloth shopping totes, stored in either a cardboard box or a plastic bin.

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#HELP All right Vanlifers or Van designers or Anyone reallyI need your help! I have this space. All this space. Crazy right when you live in a van, usually it's the complete opposite. So.what the heck do I do with it!? I'd prefer not to put any more storage or I'll just fill it with crap (most of this stuff in the back is not mine). I don't need a pull-out kitchen or a place to store bikes, adventure gear. So other than turning it into a bedroom and renting it I'm at a miss.. Any suggestions???

A post shared by Sian Knox (@exmouth_vanlife) on Dec 22, 2017 at 9:07pm PST

Leah W. recommends as few belongings as possible for staying organized. My biggest recommendation is really paring things down to what you NEED. I had one set of basic utensils, one pot, plate, and bowl, a one burner stove, etc. A small toiletry bag, one duffel bag of summer clothing, one duffel bag of winter clothing. She agrees with Shelly about using bags for organization. While most people are fans of creating boxes for organization, we found that sturdy-ish bags worked best.

I went to the Container Store and bought a couple of soft containers with attached lids. Because the structure of the containers is fabric, theyre easy to stick into places where they barely fit, like the storage area above the driver and passenger seats of my GMC Vandura.

Hooks have also been a sanity saver for me in my sometimes not so organized camper van conversion. I keep a jacket and a couple of shirts that I dont want to be all wrinkly, hanging on a hook by the door. I always know where they are, and I can reach extra layers if I get cold at night. I also have a hook for my headlamp, because that is something that always gets lost.

When it comes to food storage, youll need to think about uninvited house visitors.

Store your food in closed containers or bins, advises Leah W. We started our trip with our food in an open crate, and quickly had mouse friends also enjoying our snacks.

Related Articles:

Truck Bed Tents

Off Road Campers

The post How to Keep it Simple with Your Camper Van Conversion appeared first on The Dyrt Magazine.

(function(){if(window.instgrm)window.instgrm.Embeds.process()})() Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/how-to-keep-it-simple-with-your-camper-van-conversion

[kootenaygoon]

So,

Chris was asleep in my passenger seat, wearing a leprechaun dress.

We’d connected on the last day of Kamp Festival, the pair of us haggard and semi-conscious in my fold-out chairs. Chris was monologuing about her festival experience. She told me she jumped off a cliff, she overcame her fear of heights, she was proud of herself. She told me that these grown-ups playing in the colour games had legitimately reverted to their childhood bullying ways, making things all ultra-competitive instead of fun. Of course. 

“But I’ve met some amazing people here,” she said. “Like I think I’m going to remember these people for a long time.”

I could tell by how long-winded and earnest Chris was being that she was on something strong, maybe acid. She was about to crash hard, and everyone was packing up camp to leave. Becca had left for the coast with a Victoria DJ she knew, so I was all by my lonesome when it came to paying for gas. Chris offered to pay $40 for a ride home, but I didn’t accept it. I just wanted to make sure she got home safe, because she wasn’t going to be sober any time soon. I couldn’t imagine leaving her with a stranger.

Once we pulled out of the Kamp venue on to the highway, we were pretty much immediately stuck in a line-up. Chris put down the window and stuck her bare feet out into the wind. A minute or two later she’d slumped into herself, snoring gently, her head lolling slightly from side to side. I knew it wasn’t a big deal, that people did drugs like this all the time and woke up fine, that she wasn’t necessarily going to overdose in my passenger seat. My legs vibrated along with the music as I ground my teeth in concern. What if she had taken fentanyl or something? What if I arrived backed in Nelson with a corpse for a passenger?

“Hey,” I said, taking her arm. “You’re feeling okay? You’ll let me know if you need to puke or anything?”

She nodded. “I’m good. I’ve got some water here. I think I’m just going to sleep, if that’s all right. You can keep the music up, if you want. I like it when there’s music playing while I sleep. It fucks with my dreams.”

Did she she say that, I asked myself, or did I?

Aussie Chris lived with Chelsea up in Rosemont, and knew Blayne from before. She was a server at Vienna Cafe, a night club kid in her early 20s. She was biracial, half-asian, with a smattering of freckles under her eyes and shoulder-length brown mermaid hair. She was on a one-year visa and was looking to hit every music festival she could while she was in the country. When it came to partying, she was a professional. I liked her style a lot. She had a busy intellect. 

As we sat idle during the ferry crossing, I reflected on the last few days. The thing with Becca had ended on a bad note. We’d never spent this many days together in a row, and she was starting to realize what a drag I was. She was also less than thrilled to hear me talk about Paisley non-stop, whining that I would never get over her or that I was still processing things.

“I don’t mean this to be patronizing, because I do think you’re awesome, but I think you should consider therapy very seriously. It seems like you’re in a dark place, and I don’t know how to help you.”

“I never said I needed help.”

She laughed. “It’s like you have this giant sign over you that reads: NEEDS HELP. In an adorable way, but it’s alarming too. That you’re living in this constant state of desperation. Honestly, I think Nelson might be bad for you.”

While I pulled off the ferry and back on to the highway, I nudged Chris to pull her legs back into the cab. We needed the windows up. I thought about my job at the Star, and how repetitive the work was becoming. We’d hit all the available topics when it came to your typical small town goings-on, but we lacked depth. The real story was all these fucking overdoses, but they seemed to be outside our reach. There was a shroud of silence over these deaths, so they didn’t end up having a public record. I wondered how much was being kept from me, what angle I’d been missing. Why all this secrecy?

I wanted to help.

The reason I named my UBC thesis manuscript “Whatever you’re on, I want some” was because I was despairing about a friend lost to heroin addiction, also named Chris. We had grown up together, gone to the same youth group and camp together, but somehow he’d ended up trapped on the Downtown Eastside, en route to becoming a derelict soul. I gave up on him. That’s what made me feel guiltiest, was that I abandoned him. At a certain point I realized it just wasn’t healthy for me to know him anymore, no matter how close we’d been as teens. Addiction had defined our relationship, had ended it, and I wanted to understand why.

“I’ve been really into the paintings you’ve been posting,” Chris said, stretching out her arms as we slalomed through the woods. Slocan Lake looked just as infinite as ever. I turned down the music. “All the self portraits.”

I nodded, pretended to be embarrassed. “Yeah, I’ve just done a few now. I was inspired by this painter John Cooper, who I interviewed for the Star. He’s this guy in his 70s with like hundreds of students in the Kootenays and he’s a fucking legend. He knows Tom Robbins,” I said.

“His colour choices are really trippy, like lots of purple and crazy bursts of the whole rainbow for mundane things. Like he’ll do a rusted out car but suddenly it’s neon green with purple highlights, you know?”

She nodded, looking out the window. “I like paintings that have psychedelic elements like that. Paintings that take you somewhere beyond natural.”

I lit a joint. “And the guy’s crazy. You can just feel it in his work, this extra electricity. When I interviewed him he kept me on the phone for like 45 minutes talking. He tells all these crazy stories about the 60s and he’s just fucking hilarious. He’s known as the Toad Road painter because he’s painted the same rock like a hundred times.” 

“Hilarious.”

“Oh, and naked ladies. He paints lots of naked chicks.”

Chris had heard about my photo shoot with Blayne, and had talked to Chelsea about appearing as a model in one of my shoots. She had experience, so she would be completely comfortable in front of the camera. I’d been amassing subjects over my years in the Kootenays, shooting every kind of woman I met every way that I knew how. 

I loved them all. 

From there we continued to weave and dip, the RAV humming along like a space ship, as we worked our way through the joint. Chris told me about how she’d watched Joe Nillo live-paint at Kamp and how incredible it was to see him channel the festival’s energy into his canvas. She was roommates with the subject, Kylie, so she could see through all the goddess window dressing.

“It’s hard to tell whether he’s in love with her, or the painting.”

I laughed. “Why can’t it be both? He can channel his love for her into the work, even if they’re not together, right? He can remember the good things about her, the things he fell in love with. Those things don’t become irrelevant the moment you break up. There’s still meaning there.”

Chris looked at me, bemused. She knew I was talking about Paisley. “Listen, man, I’m just saying Joe’s got this way of channeling whole narratives into these images. They’re the sort of paintings you can sit down and read them like a book.”

“Like they have little details you have to look for?”

“Exactly. And that one you’ve seen isn’t his trippiest painting by far. We’ve got a bunch of his pieces still back at our house, I’ll show you. His paintings sing.”

Eventually Chris fell back asleep, as I was passing through Winlaw. From there I hurtled through South Slocan with my music back up, and back on the highway to Nelson. I thought about Joe Nillo and John Cooper, how they each embodied an approach to art that I could try to emulate. Like Joe I could produce work that was spiritually-infused, so that engaging with it feels like a religious experience. And like John I could gleefully go mad, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all while revelling in the universe’s exquisite beauty. I was sick of being just a journalist, of being constrained to reporting facts. I wanted to be a painter, an artist. I wanted to tap into the magic of the Kootenays and shoot it into my veins.

“I’m so full of love I feel like I’m going to paint the walls with my gore,” Chris said, but by then she wasn’t Chris anymore. It was the other Chris, from my childhood. He stared straight ahead from his passenger seat, angry.

“You remember that time we had a contest to see who could stay in that freezing lake longer, up my cabin. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah, I won. But you hogged the warm shower for like half an hour.”

“So who was the real winner?”

“I don’t even know what to feel about you, man. Like at least you’ve found a clean supply so I don’t need to read your headline yet.”

He laughed. “You act like you know how this is going to end, but you don’t.”

“This ends with me punching you in the head as hard as I can.”

“The first rule of fight club is you do not talk about fight club.”

I turned back in my seat, and rubbed my forehead with a knuckle. It was Bob Dylan playing, so I stuck with that for a moment. It was a song I associated with my high school drama teacher, Mr. Van Camp, who sang this drunkenly on the last night of our provincial theatre festival: People are crazy and times are strange. I'm locked in tight, I'm out of range. I used to care, but things have changed.

“If you were a character in The Wire,” I said to Chris. “You would be Wallace.”

“And what would that make you? Poot?”

I smiled and glanced over my shoulder to where Andrew Stevenson was sitting surly, his muscled arms crossed as he looked out the window. Beside him was Ryan Tapp, listening to an iPod with his sunglasses on. If things got bad, these two were always nearby to step in. I had more power than people realized, than even I realized, but I was still figuring out how to harness it properly. If my life was The Wire, I wanted to control which character I was going to be. 

“Are you, kidding?” I said, reaching behind my seat to grab my grey shotgun. I felt the cold barrel in my palm as I pulled it into my lap, pointing it in Chris’ direction. I brought the barrel to his lips, and then his chest, and finally to his groin. I snickered with sinister pleasure.  

“Bitch, I’m Omar.”

The Kootenay Goon

[somiibo]

6 Ways to Improve Your Freelance Business

Running any kind of business is difficult. It doesn’t matter if it’s the traditional brick-and-mortar business or freelance business.

All endeavors of this kind require a lot of time, effort, money, and commitment. Committing to your goal is necessary if you want to succeed and make this freelance journey your full-time career.

Of course, growing and improving a business is usually difficult. And since you run a freelance business, you need to be aware of the fact that your field is a bit different from the rest.

Fortunately, below you can find some great tips that have worked for other successful freelancers. They will help you better manage your freelance business and grow faster.

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Taking finances to the next level

So many freelancers often forget how important it is to keep track of all transactions that go in and out. They believe that they don’t need to run books since the income is most likely not as big as that of larger companies.

However, this is one huge misconception. As a freelancer, no matter how much you earn, you need to take good care and have proper financial records. You need to put as much care into your finances as you put into your clients’ projects.

For example, you could use one account for day-to-day life and that will be your spending account. The second account is dedicated only for taxes. It would be wise to have one more account where you put money for rainy days or retirement.

Many pros advise that freelancers should open three accounts and categorize them as it was mentioned above.

Also, don’t think that some fees are too small to be taken note of. Keeping a record of every single dollar you earn and spend is essential, especially in the starting phases of your freelance business.

If you are moving cash through PayPal, you can use a PayPal fee calculator. No fee is too small to be neglected, so make sure to keep track of all of them.

Your image has to be spotless

Seeing that you are a freelancer, you most likely have a website of some form where people can see what you have to offer.

That website is, therefore, the face of your business, so it has to be spotless. You need to do everything you can to make it functional and easy on the eye. For this, you can use some tools for freelancers to make it an easy task.

You should also think in terms of SEO. For instance, if you have a blog and social media pages, you should do some digging and find out how you can boost your posts so that your website can get more traffic.

In some cases, guest posting can really do wonders, but sometimes you have to invest in online ads.

Finally, don’t forget the importance of having a mobile-friendly website. More and more people nowadays use their phones to do all web browsing. So, if your website isn’t as good as it should be on the phone, you might lose potential customers.

Up your social media games

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Social media platforms have never been more popular. There is no end in sight of when that popularity will reach a plateau or decrease.

So, you have to optimize all your accounts and pages for your business. Keep your presence there professional, do not engage in political humor, religious talk, or profanity. This should go without saying, but some people forget that nice manners go a long way.

The profile picture should either be your logo or a professional photo of yourself. Also, the username needs to be professional, not a nickname.

Clients would much rather take a look at some professional-looking accounts and consider hiring them instead of the ones where profile photos look like the crazy selfies of Generation Z.

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Finally, do know that the most important platforms nowadays are Facebook, LinkedIn, Instagram, and Twitter. Of course, there are some other prominent names too, but these will be enough for a start.

When you start posting on these accounts, make sure that you share enough posts on every platform. This is the way to play the social media game effectively across different platforms.

Once you deal with these major things you need to cover, you can start investigating how you can further perfect your social media game, find out about the best time to post on Instagram, what hashtags you should use, who you need to follow, and so on.

Pro tip: You should consider the benefits of following social media metrics. Whenever you see a drop in the figures, you should reevaluate your game and think about your next steps.

Engage in networking

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Networking allows you to make the most of your personal and professional relationships to further improve your freelance business.

When you meet people from your industry or other freelancers, you will get to learn some things you didn’t know. Even if you need help, there will be someone who will gladly assist you with whatever you need.

On top of that, asking for advice from experienced freelancers can never be bad. You will get important inside scoops that you can make great use of.

For instance, that is why LinkedIn is so good. The platform is designed to help people find jobs, advice, and better their skills so that they could advance in their careers. Therefore, networking is definitely something that you should take advantage of.

Learn to say no

This one might seem easy, but many freelancers struggle with it.

Imagine that you have a client you’ve been working with for a long time. As time goes by, you become better, grow your business, start making more money, and that the client becomes a low-priority client.

The project you have isn’t as important since you now have bigger and more lucrative projects. So, what will you do when you find another project that is even better than your current ones? How can you free up some space to take a good opportunity?

You will have to say goodbye to your low priority projects and clients. Of course, if you are a good performer, if your work is valued, most clients will try to keep you on board.

And, that is when it becomes difficult to say no. But you need to do it. It’s for your own good. Such a situation will require you to say no. So, try to be as professional as possible and part ways politely. Always leave some space for future collaborations. Never cut ties completely.

Amassing too much work is not good for anyone. With too much work, you have to put in a lot of effort, you might even have to seek reinforcements and the work you produce usually suffers.

Always remember that quality shouldn’t suffer because of the quantity. And that is exactly why saying no is important.

Don’t be afraid of asking for referrals

Freelancers always make good use of referrals. So, don’t be shy, but ask for them. Marketing your business through this method is often the best way to go.

If a client is satisfied with your work, they will be glad to refer you.

A lot of consumers are influenced to a great extent by their peers to make purchases. And it’s the same in the world of freelancing. When you get a referral, you gain more popularity and you grow your client base too.

A great thing to do would be to further motivate your clients to make referrals by giving them incentives such as discounts or even free products. If you see that referral marketing is working wonders for you, you should award those who have been spreading the word about you.

Referral marketing can really be effective, especially if you are just beginning. So, make sure to take advantage of it and also reward those who helped you find new clients.

Read more on Somiibo's Social Media Marketing Site.

[theadmiringbog]

*wakes up and looks at phone* ah let’s see what fresh horrors await me on the fresh horrors device 

–@MISSOKISTIC IN A TWEET ON NOVEMBER 10, 2016

--

A more recent project that acts in a similar spirit is Scott Polach’s Applause Encouraged, which happened at Cabrillo National Monument in San Diego in 2015. On a cliff overlooking the sea, forty-five minutes before the sunset, a greeter checked guests in to an area of foldout seats formally cordoned off with red rope. They were ushered to their seats and reminded not to take photos. They watched the sunset, and when it finished, they applauded. Refreshments were served afterward. 

—                 

Bird-watching is the opposite of looking something up online.                 

--

They write: If you can have your time and work and live and be a person, then the question you’re faced with every day isn’t, Do I really have to go to work today? but, How do I contribute to this thing called life? What can I do today to benefit my family, my company, myself? 

To me, “company” doesn’t belong in that sentence. Even if you love your job! Unless there’s something specifically about you or your job that requires it, there is nothing to be admired about being constantly connected, constantly potentially productive the second you open your eyes in the morning—and in my opinion, no one should accept this, not now, not ever.                 

--

Audre Lorde meant it in the 1980s, when she said that “[c]aring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”                

--

As Gabrielle Moss, author of Glop: Nontoxic, Expensive Ideas That Will Make You Look Ridiculous and Feel Pretentious (a book parodying goop, Gwyneth Paltrow’s high-priced wellness empire), put it: self-care “is poised to be wrenched away from activists and turned into an excuse to buy an expensive bath oil.”                

--

Thinking about sensitivity reminds me of a monthlong artist residency I once attended with two other artists in an extremely remote location in the Sierra Nevada. There wasn’t much to do at night, so one of the artists and I would sometimes sit on the roof and watch the sunset. She was Catholic and from the Midwest; I’m sort of the quintessential California atheist. I have really fond memories of the languid, meandering conversations we had up there about science and religion. And what strikes me is that neither of us ever convinced the other—that wasn’t the point—but we listened to each other, and we did each come away different, with a more nuanced understanding of the other person’s position.                

--

The life force is concerned with cyclicality, care, and regeneration; the death force sounds to me a lot like “disrupt.” Obviously, some amount of both is necessary, but one is routinely valorized, not to mention masculinized, while the other goes unrecognized because it has no part in “progress.”                

--

Certain people would like to use technology to live longer, or forever. Ironically, this desire perfectly illustrates the death drive at play in the “Manifesto of Maintenance Art” (“separation, individuality, Avant-Garde par excellence; to follow one’s own path—do your own thing; dynamic change”)30. To such people I humbly propose a far more parsimonious way to live forever: to exit the trajectory of productive time, so that a single moment might open almost to infinity. As John Muir once said, “Longest is the life that contains the largest amount of time-effacing enjoyment.”               

--

Poswolsky writes of their initial discovery: “I think we also found the answer to the universe, which was, quite simply: just spend more time with your friends.”                

--

... he said, with an epiphany he had while accompanying a fellow clergyman on a trip to Louisville: 

In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all these people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. It was like waking from a dream of separateness, of spurious self-isolation in a special world, the world of renunciation and supposed holiness.       

--

My most-liked Facebook post of all time was an anti-Trump screed. In my opinion, this kind of hyper-accelerated expression on social media is not exactly helpful (not to mention the huge amount of value it produces for Facebook). It’s not a form of communication driven by reflection and reason, but rather a reaction driven by fear and anger. 

Obviously these feelings are warranted, but their expression on social media so often feels like firecrackers setting off other firecrackers in a very small room that soon gets filled with smoke.                

--

Our aimless and desperate expressions on these platforms don’t do much for us, but they are hugely lucrative for advertisers and social media companies, since what drives the machine is not the content of information but the rate of engagement. Meanwhile, media companies continue churning out deliberately incendiary takes, and we’re so quickly outraged by their headlines that we can’t even consider the option of not reading and sharing them.                

--

To stand apart is to take the view of the outsider without leaving, always oriented toward what it is you would have left. It means not fleeing your enemy, but knowing your enemy, which turns out not to be the world—contemptus mundi—but the channels through which you encounter it day to day. It also means giving yourself the critical break that media cycles and narratives will not, allowing yourself to believe in another world while living in this one.                

--

Standing apart represents the moment in which the desperate desire to leave (forever!) matures into a commitment to live in permanent refusal, where one already is, and to meet others in the common space of that refusal. This kind of resistance still manifests as participating, but participating in the “wrong way”: a way that undermines the authority of the hegemonic game and creates possibilities outside of it.                

--

A crowded sidewalk is a good example: everyone is expected to continue moving forward. Tom Green poked at this convention when he performed “the Dead Guy,” on his Canadian public access TV show in the 1990s. Slowing his walk to a halt, he carefully lowered himself to the ground and lay facedown and stick-straight for an uncomfortable period of time. After quite a crowd had amassed, he got up, looked around, and nonchalantly walked away.                

--

So to a question like “Will you or will you not participate as asked?” Diogenes would have answered something else entirely: “I will participate, but not as asked,” or, “I will stay, but I will be your gadfly.” This answer (or non-answer) is something I think of as producing what I’ll call a “third space”—an almost magical exit to another frame of reference. For someone who cannot otherwise live with the terms of her society, the third space can provide an important if unexpected harbor.                

--

Herman Melville’s short story, “Bartleby, the Scrivener.” Bartleby, the clerk famous for repeating the phrase, “I would prefer not to,” uses a linguistic strategy to invalidate the requests of his boss. Not only does he not comply; he refuses the terms of the question itself.                

--

Facebook abstention, like telling someone you grew up in a house with no TV, can all too easily appear to be taste or class related.                

--

We need to be able to think across different time scales when the mediascape would have us think in twenty-four-hour (or shorter) cycles, to pause for consideration when clickbait would have us click, to risk unpopularity by searching for context when our Facebook feed is an outpouring of unchecked outrage and scapegoating, to closely study the ways that media and advertising play upon our emotions, to understand the algorithmic versions of ourselves that such forces have learned to manipulate, and to know when we are being guilted, threatened, and gaslighted into reactions that come not from will and reflection but from fear and anxiety.                

--

“In short, when the inattention stimulus falls outside the area to which attention is paid, it is much less likely to capture attention and be seen,” the researchers write. That’s intuitive enough, but it gets more complicated. If the briefly flashing stimulus was outside the area of visual attention, but was something distinct like a smiley face or the person’s name, the subject would notice it after all.                

--

As an artist interested in using art to influence and widen attention, I couldn’t help extrapolating the implications from visual attention to attention at large.                

--

In a post about ad blockers on the University of Oxford’s “Practical Ethics” blog, the technology ethicist James Williams (of Time Well Spent) lays out the stakes: We experience the externalities of the attention economy in little drips, so we tend to describe them with words of mild bemusement like “annoying” or “distracting.” But this is a grave misreading of their nature. In the short term, distractions can keep us from doing the things we want to do. In the longer term, however, they can accumulate and keep us from living the lives we want to live, or, even worse, undermine our capacities for reflection and self-regulation, making it harder, in the words of Harry Frankfurt, to “want what we want to want.” Thus there are deep ethical implications lurking here for freedom, wellbeing, and even the integrity of the self.

--

In an effort to make the user aware of persuasive design, Nudget used overlays to call out and describe several of the persuasive design elements in the Facebook interface as the user encountered them. But the thesis is also useful simply as a catalog of the many forms of persuasive design—the kinds that behavioral scientists have been studying in advertising since the mid-twentieth century.                

--

Vivrekar lists the strategies identified by researchers Marwell and Schmitt in 1967: “reward, punishment, positive expertise, negative expertise, liking/ingratiation, gifting/pre-giving, debt, aversive stimulation, moral appeal, positive self-feeling, negative self-feeling, positive altercasting, negative altercasting, positive esteem of others, and negative esteem of others.” 

Vivrekar herself has study participants identify instances of persuasive design on the LinkedIn site and compiles a staggering list of 171 persuasive design techniques.                

--

“knowing your enemy” when it comes to the attention economy. For example, one could draw parallels between the Nudget system, which teaches users to see the ways in which they are being persuaded, and the Prejudice Lab, which shows participants how bias guides their behavior.                

--

Or that the woman in front of you in line who just screamed at you is maybe not usually like this; maybe she’s going through a rough time. Whether this is actually true isn’t the point. Just considering the possibility makes room for the lived realities of other people, whose depths are the same as your own. This is a marked departure from the self-centered “default setting,”                

--

Last week, after a meeting, I took the F streetcar from Civic Center to the Ferry Building in San Francisco. It’s a notoriously slow, crowded, and halting route, especially in the middle of the day. This pace, added to my window seat, gave me a chance to look at the many faces of the people on Market Street with the same alienation as the slow scroll of Hockney’s Yorkshire Landscapes. Once I accepted the fact that each face I looked at (and I tried to look at each of them) was associated with an entire life—of birth, of childhood, of dreams and disappointments, of a universe of anxieties, hopes, grudges, and regrets totally distinct from mine—this slow scene became almost impossibly absorbing. As Hockney said: “There’s a lot to look at.” Even though I’ve lived in a city most of my adult life, in that moment I was floored by the density of life experience folded into a single city street.                

--

When the language of advertising and personal branding enjoins you to “be yourself,” what it really means is “be more yourself,” where “yourself” is a consistent and recognizable pattern of habits, desires, and drives that can be more easily advertised to and appropriated, like units of capital.                

--

In fact, I don’t know what a personal brand is other than a reliable, unchanging pattern of snap judgments: “I like this” and “I don’t like this,” with little room for ambiguity or contradiction.                

--

The fact that commenting on the weather is a cliché of small talk is actually a profound reminder of this, since the weather is one of the only things we each know any other person must pay attention to.                

--

(“bland enough to offend no one”)                

--

The professional social media star, a person reverse-engineered from a formula of what is most palatable to everyone all the time.                

--

Everybody says that there is no censorship on the internet, or at least only in part. But that is not true. Online censorship is applied through the excess of banal content that distracts people from serious or collective issues.                

--

Our interactions become data collected by a company, and engagement goals are driven by advertising.                

--

Mastodon... They allow more granular control of one’s intended audience; when you post to Mastodon, you can have the content’s visibility restricted to a single person, your followers, or your instance—or it can be public.                

--

... forming any idea requires a combination of privacy and sharing. But this restraint is difficult when it comes to commercial social media, whose persuasive design collapses context within our very thought processes themselves by assuming we should share our thoughts right now—indeed, that we have an obligation to form our thoughts in public!                

--

A counterexample would be the sparse UX of Patchwork, a social networking platform that runs on Scuttlebutt. Scuttlebutt is a sort of global mesh network that can go without servers, ISPs, or even Internet connection (if you have a USB stick handy). It can do that because it relies on individual users’ computers as the servers, similar to local mesh networks, and because your “account” on a Scuttlebutt-powered social media platform is simply an encrypted block of data that you keep on your computer.                

--

In #NeverAgain, David Hogg writes that “[a]nger will get you started but it won’t keep you going.”                

--

Before long, the conference would be over, and I would have missed most of it. A lot of things would have happened there that are important and useful. For my part, I wouldn’t have much to show for my “time well spent”—no pithy lines to tweet, no new connections, no new followers. I might only tell one or two other people about my observations and the things I learned. Otherwise, I’d simply store them away, like seeds that might grow some other day if I’m lucky.                

--

Seen from the point of view of forward-pressing, productive time, this behavior would appear delinquent. I’d look like a dropout. But from the point of view of the place, I’d look like someone who was finally paying it attention. And from the point of view of myself, the person actually experiencing my life, and to whom I will ultimately answer when I die—I would know that I spent that day on Earth.                

--

“I would prefer not to.”

[kadobeclothing]

Can TikTok Become Fashion’s Next Big Frontier? – WWD

LONDON — TikTok started off as Gen Z’s virtual playground. No one above the age of 18 could figure out how to create those snappy 15-second videos that featured users magically changing outfits in seconds, performing complicated dance routines or doing hilarious voiceovers. But now in the midst of isolation and a constant search for new content — and a good laugh — the parents of the original users — and the broader Millennial demographic — are wanting in on the action. In the last few month, some of the biggest names in the fashion and beauty arenas — from designer Olivier Rousteing to influencers Negin Mirsalehi, Brittany Xavier, Camila Coelho, Tina Leung and Chiara Ferragni — have all joined the platform, which has become the most downloaded video app in the world, according to data platform Sensor Tower.

Rousteing, who initially raised eyebrows when he started showing a more personal version of himself on Instagram over six years ago, is now one of the first luxury designers to turn TikTok-er, showing as many videos of himself dancing and working out as he does of behind-the-scenes fittings.

Balmain’s Olivier Rousteing draping on a bust form.  Courtesy Photo

“On Instagram, you can show how you’re a good designer, you can show editorial work, because its aesthetic [is centered around] beauty. But TikTok is offering a new aesthetic which is more about acting and human interaction. Fashion encourages us to have this kind of seriousness but TikTok is teaching us to show our funnier sides,” said the designer over the phone from Paris. “It feels more fresh because not everyone is on there. Instagram was much more spontaneous years ago, but now everyone is on it and trying to get more followers, more celebrities [to grow their accounts].”

The influencers joining echoed his thoughts about wanting to explore a more spontaneous, less filtered version of themselves on the up-and-coming platform. “When I first started exploring the app, I found myself scrolling through it a lot, sometimes even more than through Instagram,” said Mirsalehi, who now counts 459,000 TikTok followers. “What struck me is the variety of content, it also has a sense of realness, it’s much more unfiltered compared to other platforms. To put it simply, I just find it really fun; it makes me happy.  

Negin Mirsalehi’s TikTok feed. 

This lighthearted approach to content, could fill in the relatability gap the influx of staged imagery and sponsored or gifted products created on Instagram. But does the platform also have potential to influence the way we consume fashion, in the same way Instagram does? Or is this Vine 2.0, bound to go boom then bust when isolation measures lift and users have less time on their hands? According to Rousteing, current cravings for authenticity mean that TikTok is bound to change the way we consume. And since brands are now more well versed with the impact of social media marketing, they will likely be less resistant to jumping on the bandwagon. “The moment that TikTok becomes bigger you know that your front row won’t be filled with Insta-girls but with TikTok-ers. In a way it’s a repetition of something that existed years ago. But I do believe that it will happen,” said the designer, adding that there’s also an opportunity to bring a more diverse set of talents to the forefront.

“I’m sure fashion might first dismiss it as silly, but I don’t think it is. It’s a lot of work to make [a video] work on TikTok. On Instagram, you can just take a picture looking pretty and add a filter. TikTok is 20 or 60 seconds of action, you need to create something out of nothing and it requires an element of talent that you didn’t explore before. Can you sing or dance, or do you have any other talents other than just looking pretty? I think it will create a whole new generation [of social media talent],” he added. There might be a particularly high demand now that the world is in isolation, but TikTok isn’t going anywhere post-quarantine and it’s only a matter of time until monetization tools become more widely accessible, agreed creators and influencer marketing experts.

Brittany Xavier  Lexie Moreland/WWD

“I believe TikTok will always be a high-consumption app with many users simply scrolling without creating content. Post-quarantine life will not affect that,” said Brittany Xavier, one of the platform’s earliest adopters. She joined after seeing how much her 13-year-old daughter was using it and is now among the most followed fashion personalities on the platform, with 1.6 million followers. The platform’s age demographic has also been widening significantly and the content diversifying to include more beauty tips, fashion outfit ideas and personal stories. “The TikTok audience is definitely younger but with every app I notice that the age range gets older over time,” explained Mirsalehi. Does this mean that it’s only a matter of time before shoppable content and digital campaigns by brands start showing up on the platform? According to a TikTok representative, there are already a number of ad formats in place, including ‘Top View,’ which allows a brand’s video to be at the top of a user’s feed, and ‘Hashtag Challenge,’  which offers brand-sponsored viral movements, encouraging users to generate content with a branded theme. The likes of Converse, Calvin Klein, Balenciaga and Nike have already made use of the current formats, according to TikTok.

TikTok reaches over 1 billion users.  Courtesy Image.

“TikTok already has an influence on the way we shop and consume content. This week alone, I purchased three items I saw on the platform. With video content, consumers can experience how an item is worn and styled much more easily than a static photo,” added Xavier, who has already forged brand partnerships with the likes of Asos, Michael Kors and Amazon on the platform. “Brands and creators alike should approach each social media platform with a strategic point of view that understands the audience.” Mirsalehi added that while the frequency and type of content posted is bound to change over time, she sees the same potential for new types of brand partnerships: “It’s all constantly evolving, different streams of content and audiences are emerging day by day. It will take some time for brands to get used to it, but Instagram wasn’t built for partnerships either,” she said. Many companies currently joining are primarily seeing the platform as a brand-awareness tool and an opportunity to talk to their Gen-Z audience directly, but partnerships are slowly arising, too. Glow Recipe, a fast-growing brand based on Korean beauty skin-care trends, is a new joiner and has amassed 12,300 followers and 416,000 views in a matter of a few weeks, with its videos on self-care routines or skin-care hacks. Founders Sarah Lee and Christine Chang said the quick-fire growth also presented an opportunity to connect with emerging musical artists and commission original music tracks for their videos.

A post by Glow Recipe. 

For those who are diversifying their content to TikTok videos, there’s also an opportunity for new cross-platform promotions and to engage their existing Instagram audiences in different ways. “My growth and engagement on Instagram has increased since starting my TikTok, which means my TikTok videos are reaching a new audience discovering me on Instagram. Video content performs so well on Instagram — more than regular photos,” said Xavier, pointing to a TikTok video gone viral she posted on April 4. It reached 22 million views on TikTok and helped her gain 12,000 Instagram followers the following day. Influencer marketing experts are also seeing the opportunity and broadening their portfolios to native TikTok talent, as well as expanding existing talent contracts to include TikTok. “Influencers are monetizing through brand partnerships that now include TikTok videos,” said Reesa Lake, partner and executive vice president of brand partnerships at the marketing and advertising agency Digital Brand Architects. “Sometimes the campaigns are stand-alone programs that live on TikTok. Others include YouTube and Instagram, with TikTok now being added onto existing contracts. In terms of on-site monetization, not all creators have access to the tools but it is only a matter of time.” DBA has already started working with native TikTok influencers like Riley Hubatka, Seth Obrien, Sterling Monett and Amelie Zilber and is also seeing its existing fashion and beauty talent achieve quick growth given the spike in screen time during this period of global isolation. “While COVID-19 may be fueling the growth, it will be up to the talent to maintain and continue to engage with their audience after. People will spend less time on their phones but will remember who they connected with and continue to follow as long as the content applies to them,” added Lake.

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source https://www.kadobeclothing.store/can-tiktok-become-fashions-next-big-frontier-wwd/

[caseymidkiff]

“I Am From” Poetry

Our 5th-7th grade students wrote poems modeled after George Ella Lyon’s poem “Where I’m From”. The poems turned out simply beautiful, full of striking imagery and fine detail. Some students would like to share their writing with you...

Where I am From 

by Kai

I am from pine trees that are so very tall

From youtube and video games

I am from the L-shaped house with greenish siding

Linoleum floors with hardwoods underneath

Huge backyard and high-voltage powerlines

I am from celebrating the winter solstice

And Thanksgiving at my grandparents’

From Mom and Dad and Niko, Nana and Grandpa

I’m from homeschooling

From North Carolina, Asia, and Europe,

Tacos filled with ground turkey and guacamole

From my Big Daddy’s house where he collected toys that I could not play with

The trip to Oregon and up to Washington

The digital files on the computer that hold all of our memories.

Where I Am From 

by Samantha

I am from my siblings,

 my mom, and my dad.

I am from my stuffed animals,

The ones I have amassed among the years.

I am from trees,

The chocolate tree that fell.

I am from a blueberry bush,

The berries we never ate.

I am from road trips,

To Boston and back.

I am from my dad’s cooking,

Turkey -beef tacos and fish.

I am from California

Until we moved when I was 3.

I from the bright red back porch,

Where we could climb under,

 until we got scared of snakes.

I am my bright red hair,

That skipped a generation.

I am my name,

After relatives that died long ago.

I am from the jungle,

A short patch of trees and bushes in the front yard.

I am from Judaism,

From a Sunday school I have just begun.

I am from a house of bricks,

Tennis balls banging on it day and night.

I am from video games,

A different virtual world.

I am from books,

Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, graphic novels.

I am from tv shows,

Preschool shows I had to watch.

I am from my daydreams,

Fairies, magic and mermaids.

I am from art,

Doodles said to help me concentrate.

I am from homeschooling,

Co-ops that didn’t work out.

I am from my friends,

Here and far.

I am from my family, 

My mom and dad, 

my sisters and brother.

This is where I am from.

Where I am From

by Shane

I am from TV

From Legos and Minecraft

I am from the white brick cube 

With many decorations inside

I am from crepe myrtles in the front lawn

And the pretty pink flowers that grow on them

I’m from Christmas and madness

From my brother Thomas and my Dad

I’m from comedy movies my family and I watch and amusing board games we play

From “be kind” and “use words not actions”

I’m from Cristianity, God and Christ

I’m from New York and Cuba

Potato chips and salad

From the time my dog got lost and everyone was searching

The iced tea my mom always drinks 

And the pictures on her phone

From the great memories stored in the garage, the hockey net, my dogs, and the pool 

My Life

My house is a brick box

Surrounded by trees, bushes, and flowers

Basically a forest

Warm fire on the holidays

Crackling 

Logs turning to ash slowly

A loving dog, a bloodhound

Sophie was super sweet

Lying beside me when I was sick

The winter solstice

Gathering family

Turning pages of the solstice story

-Béla

by Allison

I am from an apple tree

A two story wooden  brick home 

Fun, cute, awesome 

I am from the daisy’s beautiful white petals 

I am from snowboarding and kidneys 

From dad and mom  

Watching Simpsons and hiking 

I am from sushi night 

And from scrap books filled with family photos. 

by Odin

I am from the creaky dresser drawer that never fit right

From hair goop and basketball shorts

I am from clover and clay

Comforting beneath my bare feet

From the turkey at Thanksgiving

And cookies at Christmas

I am from Great Grandpa Jerry

Who died at 98

And Old Papa Mike

Whose napping superb

I am from the booming of thunder and the 

Flickering of lightning

From sunshine and pool time 

And gorgeous moonlighting

I am from the excitement 

That comes with a long forest run 

From shade and shadow 

In which I hid from many a-wandering sorrow

by Aiden 

I Am From .... (this stuff)

I am from the paint that never dries on our front porch wall,

From crepe myrtles, which are literally everywhere, along with Legos,

I am from the large bricks that cover the front of our house, 

The stories that I wrote and Calvin and Hobbes, 

From Harry Potter,

From the yellow blossoms that never grew until we moved the sandbox, 

I am from the sky, which is blue in case you didn’t know,

From the board game closet that’s always overflowing, 

I am from Christmas and birthdays, 

From my mother and father, from my younger sister,

From “mm hm” and “Hm mm”

From the hospital (where most people are born)

From everything i just said

by Sophie

I am from the whitewashed brick, the cool tile floor,

 I am from the city apartment only a few blocks away from the Pentagon

 with loud street noise and the first snowflake I had ever seen, 

I am from a townhome,

 I am from the living room littered with a wheelchair, fracture boot, scooter, and crutches,

 I am from the old brick box,

 the green landline, 

and icebox,

 the old decrepit shiplap that even Chip and Joanna couldn't resurrect,

The smoke-stained walls,

 the door that leads to nothing, 

the renovation after renovation 

I am from the hibiscus as much the pine,

 whose sweet nectar I would drink, and who’s needles I would braid

I'm from Richard and the Bretons

From Astrid and the Laurenceaus,

 I'm from the road trips to Miami and beech mountain.

 From “wap kraze kay-la-non”

 I'm from Miami and Haiti

creole shrimp, and banana pezé  

From the fall and Mom’s broken foot that changed our lives forever 

The hurricane that left them without power for a year. 

I am from those cringy facebook pictures,

everything from the embarrassing photos of coke bottle glasses and train track teeth,

 to the cute baby photos and funny pics.

 I am from the photos that tell us about our history and the importance of family.

The I Am Poem

Divyansh 

I am from the pencil lead & the leftover eraser dust.

From the Cheerios and the Newest Apple Phones.

I am from the papers downstairs: written on and valued, usually scattered on my desk.

I am from the water that is fluid and fresh.

I’m from Diwali, the festival of lights and celebration, the adventurous firecrackers we burst I always remember.

From my beloved mom (Vinita) & my amazing dad (Jagat).

I’m from the Math & the Art.

From the saying “Don’t get too attached to anything, but your soul, because that is the only thing that will carry on with you”

I’m from India’s Gulab Jamun and Pani Puri.

From the hair of my dad, thick and black. 

The hands of my mom all colorful after making a painting.

Downstairs in the basement, there was a folder packed with my family river rafting and more.

Forgotten until needed. 

by Victor

I am from Hong Kong

I am from the hammer in Donkey Kong

I am from the ghosts in Pac-Man

I am from the Made In China symbol

I am from the burritos at Chipotle

I am from the chicken sandwiches at Popeyes

I am from the default skin in Fortnite

I am from Lifeline in Apex Legends

I am from Steve in Minecraft

I am from the chicken minis at Chick-Fil-A

I am from the amazing name Victor

I am from the shoes at the store

I Am From

By Julie 

I am from “No passion, no life,”

From, “What really is your dream?”

I am from slipping off a rock and falling into Lake Eno,

And the smoke-filled streets of Putuo, Shanghai.

From falling asleep to 11-inch music posters, which I long to own,

The loud, yet satisfying, loud Sunday family dinners,

And the money-filled red pockets of Lunar New Year.

Yet along with fulfilling my dreams of piano and swimming,

I am also from self-doubt and pretending to be okay.

From an endless amount of classes,

And long nights of, “Will I be able to make it?”

“Will I ever be good enough?”

And, “What will happen if I don’t?”

I am from oversized T-shirts, and conservative leggings,

But most importantly, from the essence of friends, family, and hope.

Where I am from

by Esha

I am from inflatable yoga balls

From Ticonderoga and Under Armour

I am from dozens of marigolds 

Bright, glossy, the color of a yellow school bus.

I am from the brick steps that lead up to the porch

Tall, rusty filled with dozens of ants

I am from the blue and green courts, filled with intersecting lines

From the tennis ball poster perched awkwardly on my door

I am from spicy taco shells

From four square and freeze tag

I am from “Hurry up!” and “It’s a big a deal you know!”

I am from the large squeaky doors, that always took a while to shut

From oversized T-shirts and comfy sneakers

And from the awkward karaoke I sang in the shower,

Which I thought no one could hear.

[seeds-of-purple-watermelon]

Read More Pinch of Nom: Kay Featherstone on why being ‘ordinary’ helped with the pair’s success

The following post Pinch of Nom: Kay Featherstone on why being ‘ordinary’ helped with the pair’s success is republished from Healthy Food Guide by the Healthy Food Guide team

Imagine spending a Sunday afternoon concocting a recipe for strawberries stuffed with cheesecake as a treat for your slimming club, then posting it online and waking up Monday morning to find it has gone viral overnight.

This is exactly how the publishing phenomenon of 2019, Pinch of Nom, was born. Sales of the cookbook have been record-breaking: 500,000 in its first five weeks (Jamie Oliver’s 30-minute Meals took eight weeks to hit the same figure) and it’s still selling 11,000 copies a day.

The weight-loss community can’t seem to get enough of the 100 ‘home-style’ slimming recipes. The public appetite for hearty dishes, such as chicken parmigiana and Cuban beef, without the extra calories is so great Pinch of Nom has now been joined by the Pinch of Nom Food Planner (Bluebird, £9.99) – a simple food diary that includes some recipes – and a second cookbook is due out in late autumn.

Getting started

The authors of Pinch of Nom – Kay Featherstone, 33, and her partner Kate Allinson, 47 – joined a Slimming World club together three-and-a-half years ago with a target of losing a combined 30st. By making healthy tweaks to popular family dishes, they’ve already shed 12st between them (Kay has lost 7st and Kate 5st).

The pair began posting their own recipes online, but added both Slimming World Syns and Weight Watcher’s Points. From a standing start, their Pinch of Nom blog was visited 60,000 times a month within six weeks. They now have more than 1.5 million followers. Such is their success that the very club that gave the pair its blessing to use the Slimming World Syns on their Facebook page and website recipes is now asking for this information to be removed. The duo posted a statement on their Facebook page at the beginning of July, saying: ‘We found a welcome space and a few friends who we shared some recipes with [at Slimming World]. This sharing of recipes became a little bit bigger and here you find us today!

‘Slimming World recently contacted us again and asked us to remove its trademarked terms from our website. While we’ve been using them fairly and with its blessing, we completely respect its wishes, so of course we’ll comply with these requests, in the same way we always have.

‘Therefore, over the coming weeks, we’ll be removing the Syn values from our website and you’ll see a few more changes regarding the use of the name Slimming World and its trademarks, as requested. These changes are superficial, though – you’ll still get the same amazing recipes from us.’

Try Pinch Of Nom’s easy chicken curry

  Now a runaway success, how did Pinch of Nom come about? The name was inspired by a phrase that Sesame Street’s cookie monster used when he was devouring cookies. ‘I knew Kate’s sister Lisa hated the word “nom”, so I chose it to annoy her! It seemed to stick in people’s minds,’ says Kay.

Kay and Kate then filmed recipes on their mobile phones, teaching themselves photography and food styling as they went along. Suddenly their followers were starting to lose weight, too, and the Pinch of Nom Facebook group was growing at a rate no one could have anticipated. ‘It became apparent that there were many people out there who were dieting but had not yet reached their goal weight, who had jumped on and off the weight-loss wagon and felt neglected by the large diet companies,’ they write in their book. ‘We started to create a space where those like us, who were still on their journey, could feel just as important as those who had reached their destination.’

‘Ordinary’ appeal

The non-starry couple, who met online 14 years ago, seem the antithesis of what we’ve come to expect from the celebrity chef/cookbook trend. They live with Kate’s father and two cats in Merseyside. ‘We only knew three people who would buy the book for sure,’ says Kate. ‘So it’s been a crazy couple of months, and my feet haven’t touched the ground.’

While they’re not reclusive, they’re pretty private people. ‘We have no plans to be on chat shows,’ says Kay. ‘We don’t want to be famous. It’s great that we’ve sold so many books, but it’s always been about the food and not about us. We’re really boring and ordinary, anyway… Our holidays are spent in Scotland in an Airbnb rental cottage with views of a loch, and I’m excited right now because I’m about to start a new cross stitch!

  Pinch of Nom’s shakshuka is fiery, nutritious and easy to make

  ‘There are no pictures of us in the book and only one picture of each of us on the website,’ she says. ‘Somehow, we’ve amassed all these followers who like our food – it’s still sinking in, to be honest.’

Simple recipes

Being ordinary appears to be the secret of their success – their recipes are simple and made with pared-down ingredients you’re likely to have on hand already.

‘The aim of the book was to provide simple, delicious, light recipes that don’t feel like diet food,’ says Kay. ‘If you slip off the wagon, we want you to feel it’s not so hard to get back on again.

‘You get lots of recipe books that call for ingredients you’re never going to use again. There’s nothing worse than when you need to clean out your cupboards and you’re like, “’What did I buy that for?”’ The recipes are cost-conscious, too. ‘I’m certainly aware of my budget and what’s in my cupboard from week to week, and that’s what people care about,’ says Kay.

‘Ours are the kind of recipes where everyone can achieve the end result – nobody wants to follow a recipe with 30 steps and then get one wrong. We simplify the dishes as much as we can, and we know they work.’

The pair have a team of 200 taste testers who try every recipe. ‘We know they’re going to work because they’ve been through the mill,’ says Kay. The only thing that has changed is that they decided they wanted their dining table back, so these days they write recipes and test them at their new headquarters.

Following a dream

Cooking was what brought Kay and Kate together, and they shared their passion for food by launching two restaurants on the Wirral with Kate as head chef. Sadly, things didn’t go exactly to plan.

‘Running a restaurant is really hard work, and we were putting in 120-hour weeks,’ says Kay. The opening of the second restaurant coincided with Kate’s mum being taken seriously ill and the pair had to take time out to look after her. Closing the restaurants seemed the most sensible thing to do. ‘I don’t think there’s a day that goes by that we don’t remember it,’ says Kay. ‘Losing a business is a hard thing, but it certainly spurs us on.’ It seems to have made them happier, too. ‘Cooking for people and teaching them how to cook are two very different things, and we much prefer things the way they are now.’

The stigma of being overweight

Kay believes people need to change their attitude to those who are overweight, and describes her own weight-loss journey as one of the biggest battles of her life. ‘I was bullied at school because of my weight and for being 6ft 1in tall. It wasn’t fun back then,’ she says. ‘I’ve had phrases thrown at me as an adult, too, and there have been choice words about both of us in the comment sections of online newspapers when we’ve done interviews. But if you stigmatise someone for how they look, they will just get depressed and may even get bigger than they were before. People don’t realise the challenges others may be facing. I believe attitudes need to change.’

Kay also believes that genetics can play a part in obesity (her father is overweight), and she is acutely aware of trying to lose weight herself and helping others to do the same. ‘It’s one of those battles. For people who are significantly overweight, losing it will be one of the hardest things they do – it certainly has been for me.’

Kay refuses to put a timetable on the pair’s target of losing 30st. ‘I don’t know how long it will take, and we’re not the type to say we’re going to lose a stone this year,’ she says. ‘Things have been turned on their heads the past couple of months, and I don’t want to add that pressure to the mix. We’re certainly both a lot more self-conscious about how we look now because of photos in the press, but our feet are firmly on the ground. We’re trying to lose weight for life rather than just for the moment.’

She says Pinch of Nom isn’t about telling people they have to follow a certain diet plan. ‘We started it after joining a slimming club, but we don’t make too much of it because we’re not here to dictate which diet people should follow. I believe people should be free to make whatever choice they want. They can use our recipes as part of a specific diet plan if they wish – we have a hell of a lot of calorie counters using them.’

Kay says the Pinch of Nom online community is supportive and has a we’re-all-in-this-together attitude. ‘We try to keep it positive. Occasionally we’ll get an influx of trolls, but we block them as soon as we can,’ she says. ‘We’ve all got each other’s backs. We live in a time when there is so much negativity and people are pulling each other down, but we have this community and we just want to raise everybody up,’ she says.

Eating together again

‘We’re all about creating recipes that anyone can enjoy. You can cook these meals and other people wouldn’t necessarily know that you’re trying to lose weight,’ says Kay. Inevitably, when a book is as successful as Pinch of Nom, there will be those who are gunning for it. Many criticise the inclusion of recipes such as meatball pizza and sticky toffee pudding in a book that says its recipes are ‘slimming’. But, Kay says, it’s about crediting the reader with common sense. ‘My response is that you wouldn’t eat the whole thing and you wouldn’t eat some of these dishes every day. The recipes have been made healthier by swapping out higher-calorie ingredients – they’re lower in calories, fat and sugar.’

The cookbook contains everyday light dishes, weekly indulgences and recipes for special occasions. Key ingredients include low-fat dairy, low-calorie spray oil, sweetener, gluten-free breads, oats, pulses and beans, protein, lemons and limes, eggs, herbs and spices, frozen veg and tins of tomatoes.

Looking ahead

Kay and Kate are already busy writing the new recipe book, and the other event on the horizon is a possible wedding. ‘It’s something we’ve talked about, but we don’t like big events. It will happen sometime, but right now we have a whole load of stuff going on.’ To the undisputed approval of dieters everywhere, they certainly do.

The post Pinch of Nom: Kay Featherstone on why being ‘ordinary’ helped with the pair’s success appeared first on Healthy Food Guide.