#no brand really makes (old school) main pieces for ya

[gurorori]

bein a guro lolita is so sad actually.

[gothpanda]

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch. 14: Well I Don’t Care

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

A/N: practice social distancing. Wear gloves if you can. and WASH YA HANDS. 

WARNINGS: Drugs

Tag List: @madamsixx​

Read on Ao3

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JANUARY 2nd 1984

Sammi stood behind the white cashier counter, glancing back down to the watch on her small wrist multiple times. She forced a smile at a customer as she rang up all the clothes on the table, trying her best to be a good employee. Her eyes looked up at Amanda and Britney, seeing them organize a whole rack together. They muttered amongst each other, Amanda hanging up clothes as Britney placed the right sizes in order on the rack. Sammi tried to calm her breathing, waiting for her and her friend's shift to soon end. Tapping her two fingers rapidly, staring into space with any sound around her becoming nonexistent. Sammi felt her heartbeat out of her chest, seeing the time hit 9:50. Her palms felt sweaty, taking a grip on the table trying her best to calm down.

“Sammi,” a woman says, snapping Sammi out of thought. A slim tall woman stood by the side of the cash register, looking down on the young brunette. Sammi swallowed away the knot in her throat, wiping her hands on her jeans. “I heard you wanted to speak to me?” the woman asked. Sammi nodded, seeing Amanda and Britney stand behind their manager. They looked at Sammi with confusion, seeing the nerves of her face. Both of them kept their distance but still tried to hear the conversation.

“Yes Meredith, could we go to your office please?” asked Sammi. With a nod, Meredith and Sammi traveled to the main office. Amanda and Britney glanced back and forth to each other, walking to the breakroom to clock out for the day. Meredith closed the door behind her having Sammi take a seat in front of a metal desk.

“So what did you need to talk to me about? Everything good with school?” Meredith asked, settling into her seat. Sammi looked down at her hands, rubbing them anxiously. She bounced her leg up and down fast, resisting the urge to flip her hair or bite her nails.

“I’m not taking classes this semester,” said Sammi, pressing her lips tightly. Meredith raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear this. “I just needed a break for this new year,”

“Oh, is this why you wanted to talk? To switch to full time because it would be perfect for right now,” Meredith asked. Sammi shook her head, looking away from her boss.

“I came to tell you that I need to quit. I can’t work here anymore,” Sammi said, looking at Meredith straight in the eye seeing surprise turn into shock. Sammi swallowed hard, gripping onto her knees. She could hear a pin drop in the office, waiting for her manager to say something.

Meredith blinked for a moment, “What do you mean you’re quitting?  You’ve been here for four years,”

“I got a job offer to tour with my brother’s band. We’re going to be gone for 5 months and their manager needed an assistant,” said Sammi.

“You would rather drop out of school and quit your job for something that will only last 5 months?” Meredith asked, raising both of her eyebrows and tapping her pen against the desk.

Sammi lowered her gaze, moving a piece of hair out of her face. “I’m not dropping out of school. I’m going to go back after this tour but it just something that seems right in the moment,”

Meredith nodded, “Well I hope everything goes good for you, Samantha. But I want you to know, your job will not be here after you come back. You couldn’t even give a two weeks notices like a professional,”

“I didn’t expect you to give me my job back. I understand that my quitting is permanent,” Sammi mumbled.

“In that case, clock out and I wish you the best, Samantha. Enjoy the rockstar life,” Meredith said, getting up from her seat, opening up the door for Sammi. Sammi slowly walked out of the office, catching up with Amanda and Britney. Entering the backroom, Sammi grabbed everything out of her locker, ignoring her friends calling out to her.

*

“I don’t fucking get it, Sammi! How the hell can you just quit your job for Motley Crue?!” Britney yelled in the passenger seat as Sammi drove down the congested streets of Los Angeles. Sammi leaned her head against her fist, propped up against the car window. Her eyes stayed glued to the road, not budging to speak to her roommates.

“You’re throwing away everything for a band that almost always treats you like shit!” Britney shouted to Sammi.

“Finally someone listens to me,” Amanda muttered in the backseat with her arms crossed, smirking at the situation.

“You are the smart one here, and yet you are making a stupid decision!” Britney rambled on.

Amanda rolled her eyes, “I think her brain cells got killed from partying with them,” Sammi bit the inside of her cheek, gripping hard onto the steering wheel to not say a word.

“Like what is it Sammi that makes you want to be around them? Tommy, I get it but really?! You want to be up their ass?!” Britney questioned in a high-pitched voice. “You have a real-life outside of them,”

“I thought we concluded all those guys are just skeezy assholes?” Amanda said, leaning forward.

“Amanda, shut up!” Sammi shouted, whipping her head back at Amanda, shooting daggers. “Can you stop staying the guys treat me like shit? I’m over it,”

“Yet Vince says he’s only nice to you because of Tommy and Nikki fucks with your emotions. You’re just setting yourself up for disaster!” Britney said, frowning at Sammi.

“My life isn’t over because I’m going on the road with them, Britney!” Sammi yelled, holding tight onto the steering wheel. “I’m 20 years old who can decide for myself and this is what I decided to fucking do,”

“Maybe Amanda was right about you losing brain cells,” Britney mumbled, Sammi side-eyeing her.

“When are you even leaving if you just quit?” Amanda asked, wrinkling her eyebrows together.

Sammi rubbed the front of her forehead, “I’m leaving on Saturday,” Sammi mumbled. Britney scuffed as Amanda laughed sarcastically in the backseat.

“Why the hell are you just telling us?!” asked Britney.

“When did you even agree to do this?” Amanda asked in a raised voice.

“Last month…” Sammi mumbled. Britney and Amanda both rolled their eyes in unison, making Sammi angry.

“You lost all of your common sense or what?!” Britney shouted.

“Why the hell are you freaking out like this?! Seriously, Brit, I thought you would’ve been telling me to go with them! You’re always on team Nikki or Vince! You even freaking told Vince my class schedule without even telling me!” Sammi shouted, glancing towards Britney.

“Yes because I thought he was going to change and be different, but then I see him flirt with a stripper in Hollywood! So guess what he’s still bad, Sammi!” Britney snapped, looking outside with her arms crossed.

“Okay well I don’t care, Britney! He’s a fucking grown man that can do whatever the fuck he wants! He fucked Amanda so I don’t give a shit,” Sammi shouted.

“Shut up about Vince and I having sex, Sam. That was almost a year ago, you’re gonna have to let that shit go,” Amanda shouted, “Oh, by the way, was Nikki with him, trying to wrangle up another poor girl?” Amanda asked, smiling menacingly.

Inhaled sharply, Sammi rubbed her eyes for one moment to try to calm her breathing from the yelling in the car. In her gut, Sammi knew not everyone around her was going to agree on her decision. Her parents tried to give her advice as much as they could, but they trusted Sammi enough to choose a good path. Athena still stood by Sammi, telling her it was going to be great. She just didn’t think both of her friends were going to disagree. Britney was always on her side for everything she did, making her confused about their argument. The car ride remained silent driving down the busy city streets. Britney kept her eyes away from Sammi, seeing all the buildings pass by them fast. Amanda stayed slouched in the middle of the backseat, checking her brand new manicure. Sammi focused on the road, getting closer and closer to finally being home. She wanted to relax and wait for Saturday to come.

“So Sam, are you gonna make a fool out of yourself and try to get with a rockstar while you’re gone?” Amanda asked, with an evil grin. Sammi only shot her middle finger to Amanda, turning around the corner to their condo complex. Britney ran a hand down her face, looking at Sammi clench her jaw as her eyes looked cold. Pulling up to the shared condo, Sammi threw herself out of the car, slamming the door shut. She bolted to the front door, disregarding any thought of her roommates with the mission to head to her room. Amanda and Britney lagged behind Sammi, keeping their distance as much as possible.

“Should we go talk to her?” Britney asked Amanda, taking off her jacket to hang on the coat rack. Amanda mimicked Britney, looking up the stairs as she pursed her lips out. The skinny blonde shrugged her shoulders to her friend, throwing her jacket on to the sofa. Britney only shook her head for a moment, slowly feeling dread come into her emotions. With a knowing look, Amanda and Britney climbed up the stairs in sync. In the corner of the second floor, the girls were able to hear muffled music blasting behind Sammi’s door.  

Amanda marched up to the bedroom door, kicking it open to scare Sammi. The first thing to be seen in the room were two extra-large suitcases, both filled to the brim with all of Sammi’s clothes. Britney shook her head, turning off the radio on the desk as Amanda sat on the bed. She looked at one of the opened suitcases, curling her upper lip at the choice of clothes. Black and leather being mixed in with what Amanda considered normal articles of clothing. Sammi took hold of the last two jackets that hung in her closet to toss into one of the suitcases, glaring at her roommates. Britney stood by the foot of the bed, crossing her arms.

“How the fuck are you going to pay rent? Or bills? Do you just think because you’re gone, we’re going to have to deal with it?” Amanda asked, scowling with an icy stare. Sammi only huffed with a forced smirk, dragging her suitcases against the wall. On the top shelf of the closet, Sammi pulled out a thick yellow envelope taped up on the seal. With all her force, Sammi threw the package against the wall, almost hitting Amanda. Amanda held her arms in front of her face from the object to protect herself. Britney reached for it, opening to see a stack of twenties and some hundreds wrapped in rubber bands.

“Here, $2,000 for you to shut the fuck up, Amanda,” Sammi said lowering herself down to Amanda’s face. Amanda clenched her jaw, standing up to Sammi with a red face and icy stare. The two stared at each other down, the silence between everyone in the room. “You may think I’m fucking stupid not listening to you for once. But unlike you, I’m responsible with my money, Miss. My Parents Always Bail Me Out,” said Sammi, leaving her room with two suitcases in hand.

Sammi stumped outside, feeling droplets of water fall onto her skin. Lightning brightened the sky for a moment followed by the distant sound of thunder roar. Sammi unlocked her trunk, trying her best to lift the heavy bags. A backpack and duffle bag sat in the trunk already, being tucked away for over a week. Slamming the top shut, Sammi heard the footsteps of her roommates coming towards her. Thunder growing closer in the atmosphere, feeling rapid droplets of rainfall onto the girls and the concrete.

“Sammi where are you going?” Britney asked, placing her hand on the drivers' side to block Sammi.

“I’m leaving. Why wait until Saturday to get away from you two,” Sammi said, shoving Britney’s arm off the door. Britney slammed her bodyweight against the car door again, making Sammi shoot daggers to her. Amanda sat on the edge of the hood of the Impala, crossing her arms. “Just let her go, Britney. Told you she wasn’t going to listen to us,” Amanda said, flipping her hair.

“And why should I?! Why should I stay or listen to two people who’ve been yelling at me all night for something that doesn't involve them?!” Sammi shouted, giving Britney a strong push off of her car. Britney almost tripped on her feet, stumbling into the arms of Amanda. Sammi yanked the door open, falling into the driver's seat with a slam of the door. The blonde girls stepped away from the car as they heard the sound of the ignition start. Pulling out of the parking spot like a bolt of lightning, Sammi sped away from everyone, heading down the streets of L.A with tears welling up in her eyes. Sammi wiped the corner of her eyes, trying her hardest to see through the blur of the rain. Rain poured harder, resembling the sound of bullets against the car. Sammi drove aimlessly for what felt like hours, passing the city life. Like a creature of habit, Sammi turned around corners left and right until pulling up in front of a luxurious apartment complex in Hollywood Hills. She stared at the building for a moment, thinking of what to do.

*

A puddle of water gathered at Sammi’s feet, rainwater dripping off her drenched hair and clothing. Sammi wiped away water from her face, raising her fist to knock gently on the white apartment door. If she strained her hearing hard enough, Sammi was able to tell someone was playing music inside, giving her hope that someone was home. No footsteps could be heard coming to the door, making Sammi anxious about her decision of coming here. She didn’t know what to do and felt anything was better than being stuck in her room to hide. What felt like 30 minutes, Sammi let out a huff as she stepped away from the door. Suddenly the sound of a man stops Sammi in the middle of the hallway.

“Sammi? What the hell are you doing here?” Nikki asked, drinking out of a half-empty glass cup of whiskey. Sammi shut her lips tightly, shrugging her shoulders at the man who seemed to slowly grow intoxicated. Nikki stepped towards Sammi, scowling down at her with his signature smirk. Sammi held her breath for a moment, piercing up with big eyes looking into Nikki’s hazel. “What’s wrong, Princess?” Nikki asks again.

“Can I crash here please?” asked Sammi, wrapping her arms around herself as she felt a chill run down her body. Nikki pretended to think for a moment before nodding and leading back to his apartment. Sammi followed his path, stepping into a dim minimal studio apartment. Nikki only had his mattress in the corner of the room, one dresser, and an almost empty kitchen. The first thing Sammi did was take off her soaked shoes and socks, ripping off her jacket to place on the kitchen counter.

“Sorry for the lack of furniture. I’m not gonna stay here long so might as well not glam up the place,” Nikki said, refreshing his glass with straight whiskey with another glass for Sammi. He turned to see Sammi shivering next to him, almost being able to hear her teeth chatter. Instantly, Nikki paced over to his drawer to find a thick long sleeve shirt and pajamas. “Here change into this. You can’t be getting sick on us,” Nikki said, placing his hand on the small of Sammi’s back to lead her to the restroom. Sammi gave a tight-lipped smile to Nikki, closing the door. Nikki rubbed his eyes for a moment, grabbing the glasses and bottle before sitting up against the wall on the bed. He sipped slowly, tapping his finger against the glass as he listened closely to Sammi finish up in the restroom to see her come out.

Sammi grabbed a thin blanket thrown on the bed, wrapping herself with the fabric as she sat at foot of the bed, her back against the wall. Nikki handed over the filled whiskey, “This should warm you right up,” Sammi accepted it carefully, drinking a big gulp of it without a flinch of the classic burn. Nikki scooted closer to Sammi, fixing pieces of her wet hair. They stayed silent for a moment, only hearing cars pass by from the window. Nikki playfully tapped Sammi’s foot with his own, gaining a small smile from the young girl. Sammi looked to the side of her, meeting Nikki’s stare. “So, what happened to young Sammi that she had to come to my place. The last place on earth she would ever come to,” Nikki asks.

Sammi rubbed the front of her head, letting out a slight groan. “I got into a fight with Amanda and Britney and I just couldn’t stand the idea of sharing the same space as them,”

Nikki narrowed his eyes, taking another sip of whiskey. “To the point where you would rather be with another person who’s not on your nice list?”

“You were kind of my last hope…” Sammi mumbled, Nikki, raising an eyebrow.  “I drove to Vince’s place but I had a feeling he might’ve had an extra guest with him. Tommy and Athena told me they were going to crash at my parents, so that was a big no. And I have no idea where Mick lives,” Sammi said, finishing her glass of whiskey. Nikki huffed, shaking his head with a smirk back on his face.

“Well hey at least you know I’m always here if you need me. But seriously, what happened to make them pissed at you?”

Sammi bit her lip, “I didn’t tell them I was leaving with you guys until tonight after I quit my job. They kept saying how you guys treat me like shit and that I was being stupid. I’ve never fought with them like this,”  

Nikki refilled Sammi’s and his glass, listening attentively to her. “Wow, what do you tell them to think we treat you like shit?” Nikki asked, getting a glare from Sammi only to smile back at her.

“Well Vince fucked Amanda so there’s that,” Sammi mumbled as she sipped her whiskey, soon realizing what came out of her mouth. “Please don’t tell Vince, Nikki,” Sammi asked Nikki, seeing him with raised eyebrows. Nikki drank from his glass to keep him silent at the news with a devilish smirk on his lips. “Ever since they’ve met you guys, it’s always been hot and cold with them. Amanda says she’s fine then says mean shit while Britney does nice shit then says mean shit all of a sudden,” Sammi said, taking a deep breath in and rubbing one eye while getting comfortable by Nikki’s side.

“Not gonna push the Vince and Amanda thing, but your friends sound like the ones that treat you like shit, which I’ve mentioned before,” Nikki said, wrapping an arm around Sammi having her fall deep into his side. “And this is coming from the person that’s a shit friend,” Sammi rolled her eyes, drinking away her sorrows.

“I should’ve just told them and dealt with them yelling at me sooner,” said Sammi.

“Well, I’m gonna be optimistic for a moment and say everything will work itself out. It’s a good thing you’re coming with us for some time,” Nikki said, drinking straight from the bottle. Nikki played with the ends of Sammi’s damp hair, feeling her breathing become calm.

“I told Tommy about Roxie and I hooking up,” Nikki whispered, making Sammi push herself up from his side. She unwrapped the blanket around her, sitting on her knees right in front of Nikki with scrunched eyebrows.

“When did you tell him? He hasn’t told me anything,” Sammi asks.

“Almost two months ago I would say. We were drinking at his place and he started venting about how he felt like shit for hitting her in front of you.  It just came out like word vomit. I didn’t say you knew though, I thought that would make Tom sad,” Nikki said, giving a lopsided smile with a shrug added to Sammi.

“Damn… what did he say when you told him?” Sammi asked

“He had a feeling she wouldn’t stop being a groupie. I told him I was strung out on coke and she threw herself at me. Not a great excuse but it still worked for him,” said Nikki, running a hand through his unteased hair. Sammi scuffed as she took the bottle from Nikki, taking a swing of the rest of what was left. Nikki gawked at Sammi who drank the whiskey, trying his hardest to keep his hands at his sides. He couldn’t help but see Sammi’s beauty even with his hazy intoxicated vision.

“I guess he really does love you if everything seems to be normal,” Sammi mumbled with a yawn, feeling the alcohol run-up to her head. Nikki didn’t say anything, only completing whether or not to grab another bottle for the night for the two of them.  Letting the bottle roll off the bed, Sammi threw herself down on the bed. She brought the thin blanket on top of her body.

“Did your heart grow two sizes when you told him?” Sammi muttered, closing her eyes to drift to sleep. Nikki chuckled with Sammi, taking his t-shirt off that he tossed in the corner, laying down next to Sammi.

“If I say yes, will you be my friend again and be nice to me?” Nikki asked, moving a piece of Sammi’s hair out of her face. Sammi threw a part of the thin blanket on top of Nikki, cuddling up against his chest. Nikki wrapped his arm around Sammi’s waist, bringing her closer against him. Sammi buried her face against Nikki’s neck, feeling fully warm again and started the feeling of drifting to sleep. Nikki relaxed with Sammi around him, petting her hair as he too drifted off for the night.

*

JANUARY 7th, 1984

Up and down in the bus parking lot, roadies gathered up every equipment needed into the multiple buses. It was nothing compared to the boys' last tour, having even more of everything. Sammi stood in the middle of the chaos, scoping everything out with curious eyes. She saw Ozzy’s management talk business as they checked off all the boxes needed to have a smooth start. Doc checked his boxes, making sure the boys were present and everything was fit for them. Sammi knew she had to start her designated job, but so far she’s just been in the center of observation. Nikki approached Sammi, swinging his arm around her shoulders, offering a cigarette for her between his two fingers. She smiled generously at Nikki, graciously taking the cigarette by her mouth and pulling out a lighter from the pocket of Nikki’s leather jacket that she wore.

“Excited to be our babysitter, Princess?” Nikki asked, letting out a huff of his cigarette. Sammi caught the eyes of Vince from a distance, seeing him almost bit his inner cheek shooting daggers at Nikki. Sammi only looked away from him, inhaling the smoke of her cigarette. “Excited as I’ll ever be if Doc was ever going to tell me what to do,” Sammi said, pulling Nikki toward the rest of the boys with Doc in front of them.

“Okay hope you all ate a pretty good dinner because Portland is a 15-hour drive if everything goes smoothly,” Doc announces to the Crue, hands on his hips like a man in charge. Sammi glanced at the rest of the guys as she finished up her cigarette, seeing each one try to concentrate on their manager's words. Even with the sun already gone down, Mick hid behind his sunglasses to not show a single emotion. Tommy drank a beer in his hand, slightly jumping on the balls of his feet ready to head into the bus. Vince appeared less than thrilled, trying his hardest not to glance too much at Nikki and Sammi. “The point of driving at night is so everyone sleeps and is rested for the morning,”

“You never told us what we’re going to be doing when we get to Portland. The first show isn’t until Tuesday” Nikki asked, stepping on his finished cigarette.

“You’ll see when we get there in the afternoon, Nikki. Now everyone on the bus, we’re leaving in 20 minutes,” Doc said clapping his hands together, making everyone follow his words. The group dispersed, climbing into a big red and silver bus that fit everyone perfectly. “Also, this time there is no back bedroom, so everyone must stay in a bunk. There are enough for everyone,”

“Awe but I wanted to share with Sammi,” Nikki says sitting on the first available seat at the front. Tommy and Vince whipped their heads to Nikki, frowning at his words while seeing Sammi playfully flip him off. “Keep dreaming rockstar, '' Sammi said, walking past Vince and Tommy with a coy smile on her face. Vince followed Sammi, wrapping his arms around her shoulders from behind. Sammi politely moved Vince’s arm off of her, moving along of aisle. Tommy switched his glances between Sammi and Nikki, silently praying to himself for the next five months. Mick took his place on the first lower bunk, dropping his light backpack on the thin mattress. Sammi looked at the bunk, debating if she would be able to climb up even with her short stature.

“If you want, I can carry you up to your bunk every night, Sunny,” Vince whispered in Sammi’s ear earning a sweet giggle. “What a coincidence, I was just gonna ask you the same thing,” said Sammi with a playful smirk, Vince wanting to flip her off. She wandered to the last set of bunks, opening the curtain of the bottom bed, thinking for a moment. Feeling Vince come closer to her, Sammi turned to him “I get the bottom and you get the top?” Sammi asked.

“Don’t be surprised if you see me curled up in a drunken ball before you,” Vince said, taking off his jacket to throw in his bunk. Following suit, Sammi crouched down to sit perfectly in her new small bedroom. She dropped her backpack that was filled with her personal belongings and a book for the journey. Tommy sat down in the middle of the aisle in front of Sammi, taking a peek of her things with his regular goofy smile. Vince crawled into the bunk, laying on his side and resting his head right on Sammi’s lap. Sammi only smiled down at him, twirling pieces of hair around her finger.

“I still can’t believe we’re gonna get to tour with Ozzy, man. He’s the fucking legend,” Tommy said, patting at his knees fast with a smile growing on his face. Nikki and Mick walked down the aisle, Nikki sitting down next to Tommy while Mick tried his hardest to stand up comfortably.

“You can’t believe a lot of things, Drummer. It’s been a year and you still act surprised all the time,” Mick said, leaning against the restroom door. Sammi giggled at Mick, “Tommy is forever going to be excited about any little thing in life. Has been for the past 22 years,” Tommy pouted for a moment as everyone around them chuckled with Sammi.

“It’s going to be a mad five months. Think you’re gonna be able to stay up with us, Princess?” Nikki asks, shooting a smirk to Sammi. She kept her gaze down to Vince, twirling his hair as he looked up at her. Vince could see the small flush color buildup on Sammi’s cheeks.

“I’m going to have to if I want to get freaking paid, but I’m pretty sure I can handle you guys. Mick actually follows the rules no matter what, so that won’t be a problem for me. I can just try to beat the shit out of Tommy if he won’t listen. And it takes a few times for Vince to fucking listen to me,” Sammi says, pinching Vince’s nose tight, making him squirm.

“I listen to you, I just like to take a peek of what happens when I don’t but then I do,” Vince said, taking a hold of Sammi’s hand. Sammi shook her head with a smile, noticing the guys eye her and Vince. Nikki couldn’t help but look so unamused. As he rolled his eyes, Nikki got up from the floor to his bunk, fetching out 4 perfectly packed 8-balls. He passed one to Mick then threw two in the laps of Tommy and Vince, waving the last drug in his fingers. Tommy smiled happily with the drugs in his hand, Vince crawling out of Sammi’s lap to sit on the floor with his two friends. Sammi followed the boys' pattern, sitting in between Vince and Tommy.

“I figured I would give a little gift to everyone to start off this tour. I just don’t know if the future Dr. Samantha Bass would like to accept it,” Nikki said, standing over Sammi with the last 8-ball right in front of her. Her eyes became glued to the white powder, feeling the angel and the devil on her shoulders whisper to her. Sammi quickly grabbed the coke from Nikki’s hand, “I’m not gonna be Dr. anything for a while so might as well take it. It’s only polite,” Sammi said smiling up at Nikki having him pat the top of her head. Sammi hid the coke in the pocket of the leather jacket, keeping her head low. Vince and Mick exchanged looks with each other, stuffing the 8-balls in their pockets. Clapping interrupted the circle, turning heads to the front of the bus.

“Alright! We are heading out. It’s already midnight so I suggest everyone go to sleep now. I don’t want any grumpy adults on this bus,” Doc said, looking at everyone in the aisle. Everyone groaned in unison right as Sammi stood up from the floor, looking through her bag for a change of clothes. She soon felt a T-shirt gracefully fall right onto her head, grabbing it to see Vince give her a lopsided smile. Sammi held the baggie t-shirt in front of her, seeing a faded Budweiser logo. “You can wear my shirt to sleep under one condition,” Vince whispered, pressing right up next to Sammi.

“Which is?” Sammi asked, raising one eyebrow.

“You give me the 8-ball that’s in your pocket. You’re not snorting any of that,” Vince said, resting his fingers on the open pocket. Sammi looked past Vince to see Nikki swing a whole bottle of Jack Daniels for himself at the front of the bus. He checked Sammi and Vince with eagle eyes, not listening to anything Doc and Tommy were discussing near him. Sammi let out a huff, taking off Nikki’s jacket to pull out the drugs.

“Only because I know you care about me,” Sammi said, smiling sweetly to Vince. Vince grabbed the 8-ball, kissing Sammi on her forehead.

“Good girl. Just because you’re around rockstars doesn’t mean you have to act like them. Get some sleep, Sunny,” Vince said, hiding the two 8-balls under his mattress with a smirk on his face to Sammi.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you listen to your own words,” said Sammi, grabbing the shirt of the night and heading to the restroom.

Vince went to sit in the front, seeing Nikki glare at him. He only shot him a smile and grabbed a bottle of whiskey for himself. To what tour will bring them.

[authorlmfletcher]

Miraculous Valentines Stories: Day 9

 Cupid (AKA The Black Cat Takes Charge)

Read all our Valentine’s Stories from the prompts provided by @wearemiraculous​ here: Ao3 or FFnet

                 ______________________________________

Plagg couldn't take it anymore. He was going to lose his mind. This kid needed to get a grip already.  If he had to listen to one more moping sighfest about the lack of development in the love department, Plaggwas going to lose his mind.

Adrien flopped on the bed face first with a pathetic sounding moan, leaving Plagg rolling his eyes.

There really was only so much a kwami could take. Especially since he knew that the kid's love interest really did love him back, but the stupid rules of Miraculous magic made it physically impossible to share any of that kind of information. This called for more cheese. Lots more cheese.

Gulping down camembert in a fashion that others might consider unhealthy, Plagg wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he contemplated what exactly he should do with the kid.

Adrien shifted, flopping onto his back and lying starfish style on the bed.

"Why does there have to be another guy, Plagg? Why can't she just love me?"

Suppressing the groan that threatened to escape, Plagg shoved more cheese into his cheeks and simply made some non-committal grunts. Cheese was easy to love. It never loved someone else instead or thought you were annoying.

"Lots of other cheese in the fridge," Plagg quipped, cramming another chunk in.

"Ya, but Ladybug is like Camembert. She is my favourite." Blinking, Plagg paused in the ravenous devouring of his cheese collection. The kid was using cheese to describe Ladybug? Crap, this was worse than he thought.

Swallowing one last piece for confidence, Plagg landed softly on the pillow beside Adrien's head.

"Listen, kid. Love is overrated.”

“What do you know about love know anyway?” Adrien huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes. For a moment, Plagg considered biting the hand that now rested near him. How frustrating could one kid be? His eons of existence suddenly weighed heavy on him. Definitely too old for this crap. Eternity was easy. Moody, lovesick teenagers were impossible.

“Hey, SugarCube.”

He knew she’d show up sooner or later. She always did when he visited in the middle of the night, lounging on the balcony chair beneath the stars. And just like always, her disapproving glare filled him with joy.

“I said not to call me that. What are you doing here?”

“Too much drama. That kid is dragging me down with all his pouting. Can’t you get your Ladybug to do something already?”

Tikki’s sigh in response wasn’t quiet.

“We can’t do that, Plagg. You know that. They can’t know each other’s identity.”

As much as he loved Tikki, Plagg vehemently disagreed. Especially with Adrien. This was getting out of hand and this kid needed SOMEONE to love him. A frustrated rumble threatened under his usually aloof attitude.

“That’s dumb,” he growled, making Tikki roll her eyes in exasperation.

“Just go back to Chat Noir. Let things happen as they are supposed to.”

He didn’t want to let things happen as they were supposed to. He wanted to make that kid happy. Maybe, just maybe, he needed to take matters into his own paws. Plagg’s stomach rolled.

This called for more cheese.

It took rest of the night, but finally he found matching pictures of Marinette and Ladybug, leaving them open side by side on the computer screen, in the exact same angle. Surely the stance, the pigtails, the gleam in the exact same coloured eyes would tweak something. Anything.  But the kid just clicked the pictures shut without a blink.

At school, he dared to hide in Marinette’s little bag where she kept Tikki. The look on Pigtail’s face was priceless when she opened the bag and found both kwamis. Tikki glared dangerously - knowing he was up to something, but he just yawned and stretched without a care in the world.

“Plagg,” Marinette hissed, “why aren’t you with Chat Noir?”

He shrugged.

“He’s nearby. I’m just spending time with SugarCube.”

Tikki’s groaned in frustration while Marinette paled.

“Don’t listen to him, Marinette. Plagg is trying to cause-”

A loud crash in the distance snapped Marinette’s head up. Tikki’s glare intensified.

“Go to Chat Noir. NOW.”

He stuck out his tongue at her before rushing back to Adrien, who didn’t look overly thrilled.

“Where were you?” he growled, throwing out his fist to call his transformation. Plagg just shrugged.

“Hanging out with Ladybug,” Plagg drawled, enjoying the look of surprise on the kid’s face before getting sucked into the ring. That would leave some questions for later.

Maybe he should have taken a tally of all the different kinds of glares he was getting in a single day, Plagg mused while Adrien rambled on about how important it was the kwami stay hidden. When finally the kid sank onto the couch in a flop and the glare turned to a soft plea, he knew it was showtime.

“Why were you with Ladybug anyway?”

A casual, nonchalant shrug.

“She smells nice. And SugarCube loves when I come for snuggles, even if she likes to glare at me first.” Adrien’s eyes narrowed.

“So you know who she is?”

Another shrug.

“Yep.”

A long pause as the kid considered.

“Can you tell me?”

“Sure. Ladybug is M- blech .” Stupid magical bubbles. With a growl, he flew to the computer desk, clicking the mouse with vigour to pull up a picture of Marinette but, in typical black cat bad luck fashion, the computer froze.

“Nope. I can’t tell you, apparently.”

Being Cupid was stupid. Plagg's new motto felt appropriate as Adrien missed yet another clue. If Plagg didn't know better, he would swear the kid was actively trying not to see them. It wasn’t that the kid was dense or oblivious. Blindness is real, especially when there’s a heart involved.

Gross.

It was a good thing he needed cheese to recharge and not wine because at this rate, he would die from alcohol poisoning with the amount of bolstering he needed as he attempted to somehow get through to the kid.

Every time Marinette talked to him, Plagg poked Adrien’s chest from inside the pocket. Every time an akuma alert went off, Plagg asked about Pigtails and where she went. Every time Adrien moped about another rejection from Ladybug, Plagg “accidentally” sent Marinette a text with the word “hi.” Casually leaving pictures of Marinette open on the computer.

He even went so far as to whine incessantly about needing cheese bread until Adrien finally gave in and visited the bakery to get some. Marinette blushed behind the counter as she prepped the order.

“What is your problem, Plagg?” the kid asked as Plagg shoved the freshly baked amazingness into his mouth. “You have never been this annoying before.”

“Trying to be Cupid here, kid.” The kid looked puzzled.

“What?”

“I’m trying to help your love life.”

Adrien blinked in surprise, staring blankly at Plagg.

“By begging me for cheese bread?” Plagg nodded, gulping down another chunk. Pigtails’ family sure knew how to make great bread - this stuff was delicious.

“Why?”

Plagg stopped chewing long enough to make sure he looked Adrien right in the eye.

“Your friend smells nice. And SugarCube likes it when I visit.”

Another blink. Plagg groaned and gave up, stuffing the rest of the bread down his throat.

Time to step it up to the next level.

Plagg’s eyes followed the kid around his room as he prepared for school, chatting away about something to do with Ladybug. He always chatted away about something to do with Ladybug.

Tikki would likely kill him, but it was time to do something drastic.

The moment the door of the car opened at school, Plagg made a noise to draw Adrien’s attention before making a beeline for the locker room. Unable to call after him, the kid jogged behind, trying to find out where Plagg was going. Plagg waited just out of view from the rest of the kids until Adrien stepped into the room.

Glaring eyes connected with his, making Plagg grin before phasing through the door to Marinette’s locker and finding somewhere to lounge until Pigtails arrived.

“What are you DOING?” Adrien growled from the other side of the metal. “Get out of there!”

“Nope. I like Pigtails. She smells nice.”

A loud thump on the door made him jump a little.

“Come on Plagg. What if Marinette sees you?”

That was the point.

Sounds of shuffling in the locker room got quieter before a loud ring of the morning bell. Pigtails and her habit of being late. Feet smacking against the tiled floor echoed through the now-empty room. Plagg wondered if Adrien had left or was waiting still.

The locker door flung open, revealing Marinette’s flustered face. When she saw Plagg, her mouth made a perfect little “o” shape before she gasped out his name.

“Hey Pigtails. Morning.” He took his time stretching and yawning.

“What are you-?” Her voice was cut off by the sudden and surprising appearance of Adrien beside her, making Marinette jump and screech in response.  It was so incredibly hard not to laugh at the expressions on both their faces.

Plagg struggled to keep his typically haughty attitude as Marinette floundered in an attempt to prevent Adrien from looking into her locker and Adrien tried to keep her from noticing the kwami on her shelf. These two needed to be their dork selves together.

As if by divine destiny, both their phones vibrated loudly with an akuma alert. Adrien’s eyes darted to Plagg in a panic, unsure exactly what he was going to do in order to get transformed. Plagg was enjoying this far too much, leaning farther back into his lounge to wait.

“Go Marinette. Get somewhere safe.” The kid even started pushing Marinette towards the exit. She just eyed him nervously, glancing over her shoulder at the still-opened locker door. It looked like maybe Adrien would actually get the girl out the main locker room so it was time for action.

“Tikki!” Plagg shouted. Definitely going to be a fun way to die at least. “Pigtails needs you.”

That made the kid freeze in surprise, a wide-eyed gape as he stared at Marinette in a brand-new light.

“Milady?” he breathed, making her stumbled backwards in surprise.

“Chat?!”

Tikki flew out of her hiding spot in the little bag, buzzing angrily in his direction with her brilliant blue eyes practically shooting daggers.

Plagg grinned.

Mission accomplished.

                            ________________________

READ THIS STORY: 

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22507936/chapters/54087523

FFnet: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13490619/9/Love-Bug-A-Series-of-Miraculous-Love-Stories

[portbayrp]

Trigger Warnings:

cult mention. child neglect mention. depression mention. 

                               ABOUT THE CHARACTER.

★ ━  ( eva green,   cis-female,   she/her )  ━ ★   just to be clear, ya didn’t get this information from me.   The person you’re lookin’ for is     YAENA MADELEINE BOYLE.  also known as     YEN.    Last I heard she was born on   MAY 1ST, 1985    in    NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA,   but she’s been livin’ in   LAKE OSWEGO,    for about    FOUR MONTHS.   Word around the districts is, this doll,    YAENA    can be    SELF CENTERED,   UNAPPROACHABLE,   &    HAUGHTY,   but i gotta tell, ya, alls I seen is good things, like the fact that she’s   LOYAL,   PASSIONATE,    &    CREATIVE.   I guess that depends on how well ya know ‘em, though.   the last thing ya need to know is that she works as a   FREELANCE COSMETICS BRAND OWNER.  I don’t know much about what that’s all about but I do know that’s all I can tell ya the rest you gotta find out on ya, own.    ━     ( ooc:   grace,   gmt+3,   26,   she/her )

                           BIOGRAPHICALLY SPEAKING…

growing up he was exposed to;

Yaena (also called Yen or Maddie from her middle name) is half French (mom) and ½ Irish, ½ American (dad side). She was born in New Orleans to parents who belonged to an obscure little hippie cult that traveled and moved every other week. She moved from state to state for years and years on end, was home-schooled, lived on a boat somewhere in the Deep South for a while– until her nearly broke parents send her away to live with her grandma at the age of 15.  Yaena never had a stable, structured childhood; her parents were neglectful and never truly cared about any of their children; the environment she grew up in was challenging, at best, as she lived with strangers and moved often and was also kept away from school and other such activities.

She really spent her entire childhood bottling up every ounce of anger / negative emotion out of fear that expressing herself would set her parents off / desperately wanting to be a “nice kid” to make them care, so every time she speaks up or lashes out or throws a tantrum or voices her opinion, now, she’s doing it for her younger self.

That’s the main reason she’s fine with people not liking her. She’s very self aware and she understands that she can be a lot to handle, and that she isn’t for everyone, but stifling herself / her feelings for someone else’s comfort isn’t a compromise she’s willing to make. She won’t do that to herself ever again.

all about the family & their relationships;

She stills talks to her grandmother and treasures her above all others; she hasn’t spoken to either of her parents in nearly two decades now; she also has an older brother, whom she last saw a few years ago before he moved to Europe– they still email and call each other but are not very close; she has some half siblings most of whom she hasn’t even met

the road to portland starts with;

Yaena moved to Portland after a traumatic break up to get away from everything that had been reminding her of everything she had lost; she was desperate and quite depressed, much unlike her usual character; her friend had recently moved back to Portland (it’s her hometown) and when Yen brought up that she’s thinking of selling her New York apartment and moving away, she suggested Portland. Portland has really provided her with the perfect opportunity for a fresh start.

her occupational perspective;

She is extremely passionate about her cosmetics brand company and works super hard to ensure her products are of the best quality possible (and ethically created in every sense of the word: vegan and locally produced). Other than that, she’s saved quite a significant amount of money during her fashion-journalism career, but apart from whatever she makes off old blog posts and republished articles, all her current income comes from YMB Cosmetics.

where her passions reside;

She is passionate about art, fashion, homemade cosmetics and lotions and natural remedies (which is how she got the idea to start her company). She is truly obsessed with the occult, tarot reading and astrology and loves to collect obscure tarot decks, candles and other such herbs, as well as talismans and various art pieces and decorative pieces. Other than that, she is very politically aware, and even though she is not one to heatedly discuss politics, she always privately, quietly supports organizations whose causes she believes in.

additional notes;

Yaena (also called Yen or Maddie from her middle name) is half French (mom) and ½ Irish, ½ American (dad side). She was born in New Orleans to parents who belonged to an obscure little hippie cult that traveled and moved every other week. She moved from state to state for years and years on end, was home-schooled, lived on a boat for a while– until her nearly broke parents send her away to live with her grandma at the age of 15.

There, she was able to settle down and thrive; unlike her parents who never really cared about either of their children (she has an older brother), her grandmother was loving and protective, a refined, elegant and well traveled woman who would teach Yaena more about life in a year than her parents had in well over a decade; her grandma had been a widow for nearly a decade by that time and had cultivated a deep interest in the occult, in tarot reading, herb growing as well as making her own cosmetics and perfumes; an interest she would soon pass on to Yen who went on to graduate high school with remarkably high grades and move on to attend college to become a chemist, hoping to one day work in a lab, only to drop out a year later and switch to journalism after earning a scholarship.

at the age of 22, armed with an impressive collegiate CV, she moved to New York after being offered a writing job by her college supervisor who ran an online, high end fashion magazine. Throwing herself into her work, Yen worked hard for years and years on end, sacrificing personal luxuries and relationships, building a name for herself in the fashion industry and travelling around the world.

she impulsively got married and then divorced within less than half a decade. Her husband (Maddox) had been nearly 15 years older than her, and after realizing that he would never want children with her and not being able to reach a compromise, they called it quits.

As a child, she moved around and lived with uncles and friends of her parents or members of their weird, nomadic cult in a short amount of time and that’s where she gets the crippling fear of being unlovable and the overwhelming desire to start a stable family of her own– and this is part of the reason she and Maddox were completely unable to reach a compromise and stay together.

Yaena loves passionately and selfishly; she is impulsive and stubborn; selfish and cold hearted and decisive; she is extremely smart and creative and hardworking but she can also be extremely distant, closed off and snobbish.

she is adventurous and loves to travel and learn new things; she is not afraid to take risks and she is not afraid to do everything on her own.

she has an immense love for plants

she has just moved to [ PORTLAND ] and is currently living in a renovated over half a century old cottage near the woods.

she is currently taking online classes to complete her chemistry degree and has launched her very own cosmetics brand (just over a year ago) after quitting her luxurious writing job and selling both her NYC and her LA apartments.

she’s been in an on again off again relationship for nearly two years now, and although she’s crazy in love with him, she’s actually moved all the way from New York to [ PORTLAND ] to get away from him and the whole situation.

She has a really nice expensive car and drives like a goddamn maniac who doesn’t care if she lives or dies, but she has never gotten so much as a speeding ticket.

[burnitdownsasha]

BAD INTENTIONS (SHIELD)

lA/N: This took me so long to get up I am so sorry :( school has got me shlumped, and I feel like it really sucks  xx (pretend the gif is from raw hehe) (also not my gif). The theme song for Y/N is WWE Star Theme 1. I will also create a master list with all the parts. 

Taglist: @ambrolleignsgirl90 @bethany99stuff-blog @ofheroesandvillains @queenofthearchitect 

Chapter 2

MONDAY NIGHT RAW

“NXT! NXT! NXT!” The crowd chanted in the arena followed by echoes of kicks and punches. Bodies flying all over the ring and over the top ropes. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. A head start to the main roster via one win of this battle royal. 

There were only four of us left. Bianca. Taynara. Aliyah. Me. The three of us looked to Bianca and then each other. I nodded and they started walking and backing her in the corner. Before I could join them both Taynara and Aliyah pivoted and I felt two elbows smashing into my face. My back hitting the canvas with a forceful thud. 

I tried rolling out of the way towards the ropes. Aliyah kicked my side back pushing me back towards the middle of the ring. Her and Taynara pounding their arms into me. 

Bianca took this opportunity and grabbed Taynara by the hair, running and throwing her over the top rope by the barricade. Aliyah realizing what happened stands moving to close line Bianca, but fails. Being caught in the face by a kick. I crawled over to the corner holding onto the bottom turnbuckle pulling myself up by the ropes.

Bianca and Aliyah going at it throwing punches trying to take each other down. They eventually moved towards the side of the ring near the ramp. Standing near the ropes. I took this chance to stand on my feet and charging towards them. In one swift move I scoped one leg each tossing them over the top rope. Both hitting the floor. 

The bell sounded and my arm was raised. A smirk plastered on my face, my hand checking for any blood from my mouth.

I was breathing hard, trying to keep myself up. I climbed onto the middle ropes raising my arm up.

“Style and grace, I’m never gonna be done, Lean on me, Now welcome to the queendom...” 

The mixed reaction of the crowd carried on until Stephanie McMahon made her way into the ring. A crew member handed her a mic and paced away. “Y/N! Congratulations,” Stephanie clapped her hands. “You won the battle Royale, So now tell me. Which brand will you be heading too?”

I knew what I wanted since I cause the whole reason for this battle royal. I was after one thing. A little bit of revenge. From one specific person. Sasha Banks. 

She always needed to have the spotlight. We used to be such good friends in NXT. Until she decided one day that she wanted Bayley as her other half instead. So she dropped me, like an old rag. Then she heated things up more by blindsiding me all of the time. Attacking me when she felt was needed. Especially when I was #1 contender for the NXT championship. Sasha bombarded me backstage after earning that rank, spraining my ankle and putting me out of action for a couple weeks. The opportunity had been taken from me and given to someone else. 

 I took the mic from Stephanie's hands. Raising it up to my mouth. 

“I want in right here. On Monday Night Raw.” 

A knowing smile on her face. The crowding cheering for me.  I handed it back to her. My music went off and I was out. Stepping through the ropes walking back up the ramp with a slyness in my step and my hands behind my back. 

I knew I was making the right choice. This was for me. I was goi-

“Hey watch watch where you're going!”

I rolled my eyes dusting off my shoulders. “I think you should watch where YOU’RE going,” I pointed my finger at Sasha. To my pleasure she didn't take very well to my pointing. “So you're on raw now huh? Thats odd because we don’t take in wannabe trash.” 

“My love the only trash around here is you,” I stepped closer to her getting in her face. Our faces close and threatening. Sasha shoved my shoulders causing me to stumble backwards. 

This was bringing back old memories. Some that I wish I could change or forget. But I can't. 

“Excuse you.” It was even my first full day on the main roster yet and here we were already at each others throats. “You’re the one who needs to be excused rookie.” This time it was my turn to push her. “Shut up Grimace!”

Sasha pushed me again this time with more force. I threw myself at her legs taking her down. Throwing elbows down onto her face while she covered herself with her arms. 

After a couple more seconds I felt myself being lifted off of her and being held up by my torso. I grunted and wailed my limbs around trying to get free. “Come on Y/N relax. Stop fighting it,” a deep voice pulled me away from the scene of the ref attending to Sasha on the floor. I stopped struggling because I obviously wasn't going to get out of this grip.

I let my head fall back to see Roman Reigns holding me up tight. I groaned and looked back over to see Sasha walking away. “Thanks for nothing Reigns, I almost had her by the hair,” I scoffed. He chucked and put me on the ground and I ran my fingers through my hair.

Roman Reigns was one of my favorite people while we were in NXT. He was always my voice of reason. Whenever I tried getting into an unnecessary fight he was always there to pull me out of trouble. Unfortunately. 

“Yeah yeah, I'm helping ya out babygirl. You need to stop being so reckless. Don’t want to lose an opportunity before you have the chance to take it.” A tiny smile took over my face and he reciprocated. “Bye Rome,” I waved and turned on my heel. 

I walked through the halls of the arena watching everyone talk amongst themselves on business and others their personal lives. This atmosphere was so different from that of NXT. Everything was bigger and better. More extravagant in the smallest ways. The rustle and mumble in catering was the most intimidating to me. I grabbed my plate of unhealthy deserts and sat on a crate right outside of the room. 

I felt someone walking up to me while I was mid brownie. “I miss those eating habits.” My mouth full of deliciousness and now saliva after seeing the man that stood before me. No longer a blond streak in his hair and a different championship around his waist. 

“Hey,” a muffled mouth full from me. Seth chuckled and sat himself right next to me. “Ya mind?” I shook my head and scooted over slightly to make room for him. I felt slightly uneasy because he was staring, like literally staring right at me. I kept eating and looking at my feet swinging back and forth. Heat rising to my cheeks, I was trying to keep my composure. Say something to him you idiot. 

“Want some?” I asked Seth with my mouth still full. He smirked and took a piece from my plate. “You know......

.......you look really good with your mouth full.” 

[lady-divine-writes]

Need for Speed:New York - Chapter 2 (Rated NC17)

Summary:

It's been years since high school graduation, and Kurt and Blaine are living the lives of their dreams in New York City alongside their best friends, Nick and Jeff. Car racing behind them, they're working towards the future - Kurt and Jeff at NYADA, Blaine and Nick at NYU. But soon after moving from their tiny apartments to a bigger loft, bits and pieces of Ohio start to weed their way in to their lives - along with some New York grown angst, causing rifts that hopping behind the wheel of a Mustang might not be able to solve.

Notes: This was supposed to upload on Saturday, but I need a little positivity today, so I'm indulging. But there will be another chapter up Sat/Sun. Thank you all for your support <3

Read on AO3.

“A new bed, a new dresser, a new desk, a refrigerator … wait. I thought the loft came with a refrigerator?” Blaine said.

“It does, but it’s from the 50s,” Kurt said, racing down the sidewalk to the NYADA main entrance with his phone pressed to his ear. “It’s retro chic, but I worry about its energy efficiency.”

“Do you wanna get rid of it or …?”

“No way! Are you kidding? It’s too trendy to get rid of. We’ll use it as a show piece or something. We just can’t put food in it. Or plug it in.”

“O-kay. You know, it’s a good thing we’re getting such a good deal on this loft seeing as we’re rebuying every piece of furniture we own.”

“Not every piece.”

“Most of them.”

“It’s a good investment. As far as I’m concerned, the furniture we have is full to the brim with bad juju.” Kurt hurried through the double doors as a throng of other students walked out - a group of theater majors so enthralled in a debate over whether Williams, Shaw, or O’Neill were the best playwright of their time, they didn’t see Kurt until they ran into him. “The dresser’s way too small, the couch cushions are flat as pancakes, and the legs of the bed are shot from moving it in and out of the kitchen all summer long.”

“Are you sure that’s the reason our bed’s legs are shot?”

“That’s the one I’m going with while I’m out in public.”

“And I’m guessing an exorcism is out of the question?”

“I’m not too sure the Catholic Church would be eager to help us. Besides, you honestly think that would be cheaper than a trip to IKEA?”

“Hmmm … probably not.”

Kurt sighed, sliding his messenger bag, then his coat, off his shoulders and shaking out the rain. “I’m sorry. Is this too much? I think I kind of jumped into this without consulting you first.”

“No, no! Not at all! I’m not complaining, I swear! I’m just bustin’ your chops. I think it’s adorable. And it’ll probably be cheaper in the long run to buy brand new stuff than to cart our old junk to the new place.”

“Exactly,” Kurt concurred even though that particular argument hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Plus, I fully support any opportunity you find to spread your designing wings. Speaking of, you’re letting me foot the bill for this shopping spree, right?”

“Absolutely not! 50/50. That’s the arrangement.”

“If that’s how you want it, darling. But you know …” Blaine’s voice slid lower and Kurt grinned, knowing that something suggestive was about to come out of his boyfriend’s mouth “… I could pay the bill, and you could work off your half in trade.” He growled, and even though Kurt rolled his eyes, certain parts of his body rose to the occasion.

“You wish,” Kurt said, willing away the erection that sprang up like a Pavlovian dog at Blaine’s growl, which, at any other time, would be followed by his boyfriend on his hands and knees. That was difficult to accomplish from across town. “Come on, let me go! I have to get to my first class. I’m already late enough to not show up!” Damn Jeff and Nick for not coming home last night, Kurt thought as he carefully folded his soaked coat inside out and draped it over his arm. Since their normal five a.m. shenanigans didn’t wake Kurt up, and his alarm never does, he was late getting ready, late for the train, and now, he’s just plain late for the day.

Honestly, that was on him for linking his circadian rhythm to his friends’ sex schedule.

But late for his first class meant his day was shot, so he might as well go home and keep packing, right?

Sounded reasonable to him.

“Alright, alright, alright! Get to class! Do all the things! I’ll see you later this afternoon, and then maybe we could do a little house warming celebrating of our own.” Blaine growled again, and Kurt re-positioned his sopping wet coat over the front of his jeans so as to not to make a scene.

“You order a pizza and I’ll grab a sleeping bag from the apartment on my way over.”

“It’s a date. Bye, darling.”

“Bye.” Kurt hung up the call. He shivered when the doors behind him opened, ushering in a breeze that spiraled through his damp clothes and straight to his bones. He started down the hall, trying to remember whether or not he’d left a change of clothing in his locker in the costume closet. If not, he could always borrow something. What plays were going on right now? Much Ado About Nothing? Waiting for Godot? Cat on a Hot Tin Roof? There had to be a pair of jeans and a semi-fashionable button-down shirt in there that would fit him. Or he could throw caution to the wind and dress up in a brocade vest, a long coat, and pantaloons. With the risky outfits he wore during high school, period dress was something he hadn’t tried. NYADA seemed like the perfect place to explore those vistas in fashion. Maybe he could start a trend. He was interning at Vogue. He needed to do more to stretch boundaries, be bold, start a movement.

Get dry. Because the longer he waited, the tighter his jeans became. They were tight enough as it was. Squishing his junk was not the fashion statement he needed to start today.

A familiar voice stopped him before he could convince himself to go to his second lecture dressed like Benedick … or Beatrice.

Not just stopped but skidded to a halt, nearly rolling his right ankle in the process.

“Hello, gorgeous. I think you forgot your bag.”

“Sebastian?” Kurt spun around. And as implausible as it seemed, Sebastian Smythe was standing behind him, Kurt’s messenger bag slung over his shoulder. He looked dryer than Kurt, so he couldn’t have just gotten there. But why was he there at all? “Oh my God!” Kurt opened his arms and hugged him without giving it a second thought. “We haven’t seen you in forever! I thought you were overseas! What are you doing in New York?”

Sebastian returned the hug single-armed. ““Haven’t you heard? I go here now.”

Kurt stepped out of Sebastian’s embrace so quickly, he almost succeeded in twisting that ankle. “Wait? What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He brought his left arm forward, showing Kurt a stack of books he held clutched in his hand. The top one Kurt recognized right away as Intro to Theater. That happened to be the class he was missing this very moment. The second was A History of Shakespearean Dress Making, the elective Kurt had fourth today, and the third … The Beginner’s Guide to Mime? Kurt didn’t understand. Wasn’t Sebastian attending Oxford or something? Why would he be in New York taking theater, mime, and dress making? It didn’t make sense. “Wha---what, are you … did you really … how in the hell did you …?” Kurt went silent, mouth open as a dozen questions clogged up his throat like rush hour traffic.

He flashed back to his own audition for NYADA – the grueling hour spent in the April Rhodes Auditorium singing his prepared musical theater piece and sight reading another. He had to juggle set design, costume, and choreography all at a professional level to prove that he had what it took to go to this school. Jeff, who auditioned in dance, had to prepare two separate solos – one classical ballet and one hip-hop. At an additional placement interview, Kurt had to prepare another musical theater piece as well as deliver a monologue, and Jeff had to come up with three more dance routines – jazz, interpretive, and contemporary.

Kurt knew that Sebastian had music in his arsenal. He was co-captain of The Warblers at Dalton, but that was show choir. They sang top 40 hits and pulled off some synchronized swaying – nothing to the level of a NYADA audition. Kurt attended the last Warbler concert of their senior year with Blaine. Sebastian had a solo. Kurt remembered thinking he had a decent voice – better than decent, actually.

But that was about it.

Afterwards, at a mixed crew going-away party, Sebastian drank three beers and smoked a joint – something Kurt would never think of doing as a performer. His body was his instrument. He wouldn’t do anything that might put it out of tune.

Going to a school like NYADA wasn’t only about talent. It was about passion and sacrifice. Sebastian never said a word about wanting to join the arts professionally. Was he keeping it a secret – maybe from his dad? Maybe his life was like George the janitor’s and he was waiting for his moment to break free.

Could he have actually made it into NYADA?

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold up!” Sebastian juggled the books in his hand to grab his phone and snap a pic. The flash went off in Kurt’s face, but he didn’t even blink. Sebastian looked at the image on his screen and chortled. “Oh yeah! That's a keeper!”

“I still don’t … I don’t … how did you …?”

“I don’t go here, ya psycho!” Sebastian snorted, setting the books down on a nearby chair. “I came here to see you! The tuition here’s highway robbery, and the audition requirements are insane! You really have to commit yourself to a life of suffering and poverty to want to go here, no offense.”

“None taken, you useless walnut. Then where did you get those?” Kurt pointed at the books.

“I borrowed them from the library. I thought it would give me provenance, help me look the part.”

“A-ha. So you came here looking for me, and when you couldn’t find me, you went to the library and grabbed those books to pretend you go here on the off chance I’d walk through the door and you could pull this elaborate prank on me?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Kurt chuckled. “Yup. I guess it did. You’re one lucky bastard.”

“That, and I ran into Jeff about half an hour ago. He said you’d probably be along soon.”

“He should know. He’s the reason I’m late, the jerk. You still haven’t told me what you’re doing in New York?”

“Yeah …” Sebastian glanced down at his feet, worrying the linoleum with the toe of his sneaker “… well, after a few laps around the world, I got bored and decided it was time to settle down for a while. So I thought I’d come back to the states, go to school and finish my degree.”

“What degree?” Kurt asked, deciding he could afford to miss one Intro to Theater class to catch up with an old friend. Besides, this information was bordering on gossip, and Kurt wasn’t one to kick gossip out of bed.

“Originally, I was going to go into law. Become a states’ attorney like my dad. But it seemed empty to me. So I gave it some thought and asked myself – when was the last time I really enjoyed myself? The last time I was really happy? Aside from driving, the answer to that was music. And since I didn’t see myself becoming the next Dale Earnhardt, Jr. …”

“Mmm … probably not …” Kurt teased.

“… I applied to the music therapy program at NYU.”

Kurt’s nose scrunched. “The same program Blaine’s in?”

“Yup.” Sebastian’s eyes sheepishly found his sneaker again. “I’ll admit, I got the idea from his Facebook posts. It looks like something he really enjoys. Something that adds value to his life. That’s something I need more of – value.” He pinched his lower lip between his teeth. “That doesn’t make you uncomfortable, does it? I mean, I know we all have a past and everything but …”

“But we’ve gotten over it,” Kurt said. “I swear. Color me a little bit shocked, but that’s all. How big of an asshole would I have to be if I said ‘I know you finally found your purpose in life, but you need to give it up and leave’?”

“Pretty big,” Sebastian agreed.

“That doesn’t mean it’s open season on my man or anything.”

“Dammit!” Sebastian snapped his fingers in mock disappointment. “I’m heading his way now, and I was hoping for a little bathroom bj action.”

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest. “Nice.”

“I’m kidding! Kidding! Please, don’t hate me … or murder me in my sleep.”

“Hmph! I’ll think about it.”

Sebastian nodded, the last dregs of laughter fading in his throat. “All joking aside, I wanted to connect with you first. I wanted you to hear from me instead of Blaine that I was here.” Sebastian looked Kurt up and down, but not in the way he used to. Not in a way that made Kurt’s skin crawl. This was a different Sebastian Smythe. A new Sebastian Smythe. Kurt hoped this one stuck around for a while. “You look good.” 

“Thanks,” Kurt said, grateful that Sebastian overlooked the drowned rat aesthetic he was still sporting. “So do you.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. You look happier. More ...” The first word that jumped to Kurt’s mind was mature, but he thought that would make him sound conceited “… put together.”

“It helps when you leave drama behind you and get your shit straightened out. Maybe now I can focus on the important things.”

“If you need anything, let us know,” Kurt said, offering Sebastian one last hug.

“I will.” Sebastian wrapped his arms around Kurt’s torso and gave him a squeeze. He slipped Kurt’s bag over his shoulder, adjusting the curled strap for longer than necessary. “I have to go. Time to head over to NYU and bug your boyfriend.”

“He’ll be at lunch in about an hour. You can catch him at Kimmel Marketplace. Oh, and if you see Nick, do me a favor and punch him in the shoulder for me. I have to hunt down Jeff and do the same.”

“Of course, but why?”

“Oh, they know what they’ve done.”

***

“So, you’re moving, huh?” Green eyes narrowed to judgmental slits, waiting for Blaine to answer.

“Uh … yeah,” Blaine replied, fishing through his bag for his notebook. He was supposed to have three, but he could only find two. He smirked, wondering if Kurt had grabbed it by accident, seeing how distracted he was when he ran out to catch his train this morning.

Blaine felt slightly guilty for that one. Kurt blamed Jeff and Nick’s absence for his lateness.

But Blaine had been doing the distracting.

“And whose idea was that?”

“My boyfriend wanted to move and I thought it was a good idea, so … yeah.” Blaine grunted, pulling out each item one by one and stacking it neatly on the cafeteria table. “That’s pretty much how that went down.”

“I see.” Paul brushed a lock of blond hair out of his face and sipped his coffee, perturbed by this recent development. The apartment Blaine lived in (though Paul had never been there) was only a few subway stops away from NYU. Everything Blaine could ever need was here on campus. Everything. So he didn’t need to move. But apparently that wasn’t Blaine’s decision to make. His boyfriend did.  “Where to?”

“A loft out in Bushwick.”

“Bushwick?” Paul’s whole face crumpled in disgust. “Where the hell is Bushwick? It sounds like a slum.”

“It’s in Brooklyn. It’s actually a pretty nice neighborhood.”

“But what about all that travel? It’s still Brooklyn.”

“It’s not that big a deal. Besides, it’s worth it. You should see the place. It’s enormous!”

Paul smiled, the piercings in his dimples mirroring the glint in his eyes. “Is that an invitation?”

“Sure. I guess. I mean, I should step up and host study night now that I have the space. I’m sure Kurt won’t mind. I can probably connive him into making some snacks. He’s an amazing cook.”

“I’ll bet,” Paul said dryly. “You know, the course load only gets harder from here on out, so I hear. You really should consider living closer to campus.”

“I don’t know if you’ve been looking at the classifieds lately, but places near campus cost an arm and a leg. I’d like to keep mine for now. I’m not even in grad school yet,” Blaine said, chuckling at his own joke.

“Maybe you could find someone to bunk with during the week,” Paul suggested, sliding closer while Blaine had his back turned, head deep inside his bag, “and go to your loft on the weekends. I know a couple of guys who do that.” He snapped his fingers as if he just came up with a genius idea. “I have a fold-out couch. You can bunk with me whenever you’re working late, or you’re too tired to ride the subway … or you don’t want to go home.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’d miss my boyfriend too much.” Blaine yanked out a handful of letters from Kurt and piled them on top of his text books. Paul watched, his lip curling once he noticed the flowery handwriting. “I can handle the extra commute. I’m a big boy.”

Paul grinned, looking Blaine over behind the safety of Blaine’s back, stopping when his eyes reached his ass. “I’m sure you are.”

“Anderson! Hey, Anderson!”

Blaine grinned to his eyebrows before he looked up. He’d recognize that voice, booming his name, anywhere. He’d heard rumors. He didn’t know if they’d be true.

Apparently, they were.

Walking through the cafeteria crowd came Sebastian Smythe, sauntering toward him, reminiscent of the first day they met in the commons at Dalton.

God! That simultaneously seemed like yesterday and ten years ago. Where had the time gone?

“Are you kidding me? Where in the hell did you come from?” Blaine leapt out of his seat and into Sebastian’s arms. “Last I heard, you were in London? Madrid?”

“Paris,” Sebastian said, lifting Blaine up a foot off the ground just because he could. “I just came from NYADA. Had a little fun scaring the shit out of your man. He said you might be here. Speaking of …” Sebastian’s smile dropped like a lead balloon when he caught sight of the guy  with the bottle blond mop and garish crayon red tips glaring daggers at him, as if he and Blaine had been enjoying an intimate lunch and Sebastian was intruding “… who the hell is this?”

“This is Paul Johnson,” Blaine said. “He’s my lab partner this semester.”

Sebastian didn’t offer him a hand. Paul didn’t offer one either.

“Yes,” Paul said, “but we’ve known one another since freshman year, so …” He left it open-ended, as if there were a whole history of him and Blaine understood within the invisible brackets bookmarking that unfinished statement. It was pretentious, and as a once pretentious person himself, it rubbed Sebastian the wrong way.

Blaine, however, didn’t seem to notice.

“Paul Johnson?” Sebastian huffed. “That sounds like a stripper name. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Stripping is a noble profession.”

Paul’s jaw locked tight. Blaine clapped Sebastian on the shoulder.

“Play nice,” he said. “So, what’s up? Did you get your books and shit? Do you know what classes you’re taking?”

“Haven’t got my books yet, dad,” Sebastian teased, “but I have my course list.” He handed Blaine his phone with his schedule listed on the screen. “According to this, I’ve got to get myself one of those …” He gestured dismissively at Paul.

“Too bad you weren’t here a few weeks ago. We could have been partners.”

From the corner of his eye, Sebastian saw Paul grimace.

“Wouldn’t that have been a hoot? Then I could have kept you out of trouble. Now I’ve gotta stalk your ass.” Another glare from Paul, but this time Sebastian matched it and held it, not blinking until Paul backed down … which he did, returning to the task of sulking inside his coffee cup. “Hey, do you happen to know where Nick is?”

“Uh, I think he’s at his internship already. Brown, Smith, Simon, and Kent on 5th Avenue. Why do you ask?”

“I’m supposed to punch him. Per Kurt’s request.” Sebastian pounded his left palm with his right fist and side-eyed Paul. “I could punch you instead. Something tells me Kurt would approve.”

“Ha … ha …” Blaine stepped between Sebastian and Paul and gave his old friend another hug. “It’s good to see you again, man, but unfortunately, we’ve got to get back to work.”

“Yes,” Paul said, his smug smile replacing the perma-glare on his face, “we’ve got to get back to work.”

“And I’ve got to swing by admissions,” Sebastian said, ignoring Paul, “but we’ll get together soon, right?”

“Absolutely! Did Kurt tell you about the new loft?”

“Nah. We only had time for a small make-out sesh. We didn’t get that far.”

Blaine raised an unamused brow. “You’re full of the jokes today, aren’t you?”

“He’s full of something,” Paul grumbled.

“Just excited to be back. And tryin’ to keep you on your toes. I’m harmless ... mostly.” Sebastian bumped the table with his thigh. Paul’s coffee cup tipped, sending him scrambling to catch it before it could fall off the edge.

“Right,” Blaine said, mildly confused. “I’ll shoot you the deets and you can come by for dinner. Otherwise, we’ll see you around campus?”

Sebastian threw a look over his shoulder, and since Paul had been boring holes in his back the whole time, willing him to move the hell on, he was in prime position to catch it. “I’m looking forward to it.”

[illbefinealonereads]

Blog tour day! Keep scrolling to learn more about How to Build a Heart by Maria Padian, and read my spoiler free review.

HOW TO BUILD A HEART by Maria Padian Algonquin Young Readers Ages 12-18 ISBN: 9781616208493 On sale: January 28, 2020 256 pages $25.95

All sixteen-year-old Izzy Crawford wants is to feel like she really belongs somewhere. Her father, a Marine, died in Iraq six years ago, and Izzy’s moved to a new town nearly every year since, far from the help of her extended family in North Carolina and Puerto Rico. When Izzy’s hardworking mom moves their small family to Virginia, all her dreams start clicking into place. She likes her new school—even if Izzy is careful to keep her scholarship-student status hidden from her well-to-do classmates and her new athletic and popular boyfriend. And best of all: Izzy’s family has been selected by Habitat for Humanity to build and move into a brand-new house. Izzy is this close to the community and permanence she’s been searching for, until all the secret pieces of her life begin to collide. 

“Two years ago my mother, who is Latina, attended a Habitat for Humanity fundraising luncheon,” says Maria Padian, freelance writer, essayist, and author of the young adult novels Brett McCarthy: Work in Progress, Jersey Tomatoes Are the Best, Out of Nowhere, and Wrecked. “She and my father, a blond Irish guy, were among the donors, and my mother was unnerved to see the Habitat family, who was of Mexican origin, marched up on a stage for all the nice, wealthy white people to applaud—especially the teenage daughter, who looked like she wanted to disappear. My mother completely empathized with the awkward teen, her teen-angst exacerbated no doubt by her feelings of ‘otherness’ in that company. I realized right then that I needed to write that kid’s story. Unlike my mother, whose first language is Spanish, I barely speak a word, and I didn’t grow up identifying as any sort of racial/ethnic/cultural minority. Writing HOW TO BUILD A HEART has been a way for me to explore my own questions about identity, as well as to step into my mother’s skin. I’ve been able to write these characters because this is my family, from my Spanish mother to my Irish father to my North Carolinian husband. This book is my love letter to all of them and our crazy quilt of a family.”

Advance Praise for How To Build A Heart

“A Pretty In Pink story about grief, family, class, and first love.”

—Bustle

“Padian masterfully portrays the internal struggles Izzy goes through in her Catholic faith… An absolutely enthralling depiction of family and self-discovery.”

—Kirkus Reviews (Starred Review)

“Padian takes a familiar theme—a girl hiding her background from others—and makes it fresh with her protagonist, Izzy Crawford… The characters around her are well-defined and support Izzy and the plot well. Throughout the novel, Izzy's strength, candor, and humanity shine through.”

—Booklist

“Padian creates a world that the reader can easily dive into. Anyone who’s ever been a self-conscious teen will see themselves in Izzy.”

—Book Riot

“Padian creates a compelling world with relatable characters and deals with serious issues without feeling heavy-handed…An excellent classroom or book discussion starter. Hand this to readers who are ready to tackle these issues with a lighter touch.”

—School Library Journal (Starred Review)

Praise for Maria Padian’s Wrecked

“Revelatory, deeply real, and urgently important.”

—Nova Ren Suma, author of The Walls Around Us

“Outstanding, powerful, and important…This is hands down, one of the best sexual assault reads in YA.”

—Book Riot

“Powerful, suspenseful and illuminating… With intriguing, flawed characters and a gripping storyline, Wrecked by Maria Padian offers readers a view of a college sexual assault case that is as engrossing as it is important.”

—Shelf Awareness for Readers (Starred Review)

“Padian’s latest boasts a swift, excellently crafted plot, exceedingly readable prose, and painfully relatable characters.”

—Booklist (Starred Review)

“In the face of recent college rape trials, readers will be rapt and emotionally spent by the end. An important, devastating new perspective on an all-too-timely subject.”

—Kirkus Reviews

“Padian’s characters come beautifully to life in this enthralling and powerful novel. They allow us to step into their shoes and wonder how we would act, what side we would choose and if right and wrong can be defined as sharply as the world wants them to be.”

—The Middlebury Campus (Middlebury College, VT)

“This is an important and, unfortunately, timely novel…This isn’t just a book that all young men and women should read; it’s gripping and human enough that many will want to. Shelve and display alongside Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak and Courtney Summers’s All the Rage.”

—School Library Journal

“Padian excels at showing the messy aftermath of a sexual crime in a college community…This is a novel about truth and the damage done—to a community, to a person, and to relationships—when hard truths are hidden.”

—Portland Press Herald

“A fast-paced read…With down-to-earth characters and a relatable setting, Wrecked hits close to home.”

—The Bowdoin Orient (Bowdoin College, Brunswick, ME)

About the Author

Maria Padian has a bachelor’s degree from Middlebury College and a master’s degree from the University of Virginia. She is a freelance writer, essayist, and author of young adult novels, including Brett McCarthy: Work in Progress, Jersey Tomatoes Are the Best, and Out of Nowhere. Maria lives with her family in Brunswick, Maine. Visit her online at mariapadian.com and find her on Twitter: @mpadian.

Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary

Rating: 4/5 stars

Review: How to Build a Heart is an absolutely beautiful story about finding your place. The writing seemed so sincere, and it flowed really well. I really enjoyed how it was paced, it kept the story entertaining and dynamic. The dialogue was amazingly written as well, it had really good back and forth between the characters and it wasn’t dull as it sometimes can be. On the subject of the characters, they were well-developed and brought to the page in such a convincing fashion. They were really easy to connect to, especially Izzy. Feeling like an outsider is a common thing teenage girls deal with, and I feel like that was exactly why she resonated with me. She brought me right back to my high school days. All in all, How to Build a Heart is wonderful read that had me hooked from the beginning. I recommend it.

[canaryatlaw]

okay, so. most of the day was fairly boring lol as expected but tonight of course was super awesome. I had set a 1 pm wake up if you’re not already awake alarm but I ended up waking up to my phone buzzing right at 11 am, it was a Chicago number so I answered and chatted with this guy from this legal company that does boring shit like document review and is doing like part time temporary hiring projects, which would obviously be a short term fix as I’m still looking for full time employment, but they pay like $20 an hour (and you don’t technically have to be licensed for some of their stuff, so being that I am licensed I miiiiiight get to do some more intense stuff for more pay? Idk, have to see) so I have an 11 am Skype interview scheduled with them for tomorrow morning to chat about that stuff. I’m obviously not like dying to get this job or anything but it’d be nice to have some income while I’m still looking, like if I did like 15-20 hours a week that’s $300-$400 so that’s not insignificant. I’m just gonna be super upfront with them about the fact that I’m seeking permanent employment and if I start anything with them there is a solid chance I will up and leave with fairly short notice, and if they’re not okay with that then we won’t do it, but I get the feeling since a lot of their shit is short term they’ll probably be okay with it. So after I got off that phone call I looked up the number for Ulta and called them to push back my haircut appointment which was booked for 12, I was trying to do think if there was somewhere I could plant myself downtown and do a Skype interview to then just run to the appointment but I obviously don’t want to do like, starbucks, and beyond trying to sneak into my old student org office at school (that’s no longer mine obviously) there’s not very many options, so I was hoping we could just push the haircut back a bit till like 2 and she happened to have an opening then so that was perfect because she gets booked up fairly consistently, so I lucked out there. After that I was lazy and went on my phone for a bit before getting up and going on my laptop at the kitchen table while I ate breakfast and then eventually moved over to the couch and was just listening to podcasts while on my computer for a while, then ended up watching the pilot of the new amazon prime show “Hanna” that’s not actually premiering to March but they were making the pilot available for like 24 hours after the superbowl for some reason and I was fairly intrigued by that (I never did actually see the movie its based on) and it was okay I guess? I wasn’t like super enthralled in it but I may give it a try for a few episodes when it comes out. The main actress is pretty good, but she’s a lot older than I thought she was (she actually turns 19 like, today) when I thought she was more like 13 or 14. and she’s apparently not been in much of anything up to this point, so good for her. After that I just turned the tv off and listened to more Panic music since I downloaded a bunch last night on top of what I downloaded after the concert last week so I could be more familiar with that while doing some computer stuff and trying to get some more Batwoman comic reading done. I was trying to see what they had on DC Universe before switching over to Comixology (which I have to pay for) but they only have issues 1-12 of her new 52 run which is apparently significantly longer than that and I burned through those very quickly, and the other ones on there are basically just one-off appearances in a random Batman story. So I guess I’ll read those then see what I can get on Comixology (they apparently have a subscription thing now which may be more affordable than paying for each comic, I’ll have to see what’s the deal with that). Around 4:30 I started getting ready, tried to do my make up very carefully and ended up trying to use my liquid eyeliner on my bottom lid which I normally don’t do but I like accidentally got some on there when trying to get it on my top lid (not sure how I managed to do that) and wanted to see if I could do the rest. It turned out pretty good in the immediate aftermath at least, but when I got home it had migrated down my face a good bit which is basically my biggest pet peeve with black eyeliner so I probably won’t be doing that again (I’m gonna see if I can find a better one at Ulta/Sephora tomorrow, since I’ll be at the Ulta and there’s a Sephora down the street and I want to find something that’s a Sephora brand product. There’s apparently also a Sally’s around there which I may also hit up for some hair dyeing supplies). But I finished getting ready and got on the bus at like 5:30 to meet Jess at her work so we could go straight to the concert from there, I was supposed to get there slightly before she got off so she could use it as an excuse to leave but the bus was being uncooperative (as public transit often is) and I ended up not getting there until like right when she got off, but it wasn’t a big deal because we weren't really in a rush being that we knew Panic didn’t actually take the stage until like, 8:30 lol. We stopped at a mcdonalds drive thru on the way where we got twenty nuggets, two cokes, and a medium fries (it’s always a debate about how many nuggets to get, because Jess is like “but I want more than 10″ when we’re splitting 20 but it’s more expensive to order 30 nuggets than it would be to order 40 nuggets and that’s just way too many (we did try that once) so I was saying we could do a 20 and a 6 piece but ended up just going with the 20 for us to split. Drove the rest of the way out, the concert was out by the airport which is a bit of a hike but we’re used to going there because most Chicago cons are in a venue that’s right by there. There was fairly massive traffic getting into the venue, and we had some momentary panic (no pun intended) regarding paying for parking because we didn't have any cash and didn’t know if they’d take card, but luckily they did so that crisis was averted. of course it’s bullshit that they’re charging $25 to just park in their giant ass parking lot, but that’s life for ya. Once we parked we had to kinda run to the venue because it was cold and we were both bumming it without our regular coats (I had a leather jacket on) so we were happy when we got in there. Got in without issue, climbed up the stairs to the top level of course and found our seats. We were literally like, the furthest section back on the side before the other seats just weren’t sold because you couldn’t be able to see (the other half of our section was actually closed off) but despite that we actually had a fairly good view and could see most of everything, just mostly from a side view and sometimes the back, lol. I was pumped though because I spent like all of last week wishing I could relive the concert and now I was getting to do that, so I was very excited. The new perspective was interesting, we got to see things from different angles which was interesting, like him popping up onto the stage when he first came out and just jumps up so it looks like he just gets shot out at fairly high speed lol. The set list was the same of course, except I’ve been listening to the music all week and actually knew the vast majority of the songs this time and could sing along, so I felt accomplished for that. I did manage to take a good amount of videos that I posted all on my instagram story if you want to check those out (@ racheleiley) and this time I didn’t ugly sing while recording lol so they’re better quality than the ones from last week. But yeah it was really good, I still got super anxious and cringey when he was on the floating piano above the crowd and very clearly not strapped into anything and like, going to the edge of the platform and I like, couldn’t watch because it stressed me out too much lol but thankfully he made it back okay. When Girls/Girls/Boys came on we hadn’t gotten the little paper colored hearts to put over our cell phone lights this time because we were in the reject section that was mostly empty, but it was still enjoyable and he definitely had no less than 10 pride flags thrown onstage at him during it which he picked every single one up and draped them over him and he was like “this is a record” which was great. But yeah, I really enjoyed all of it. When he came back out for the encore someone threw a little teddy bear onstage and he was like “aw, this is the cutest teddy bear, I’m keeping this” and put it in his back pocket as he kept performing and it was really fucking cute lol. He must be in really good shape to be doing this sometimes multiple times a week because it’s so much energy expended and his voice is so strong to be able to handle it (makes sense that he did a stint on Broadway). But yeah, I enjoyed it a lot and got much better videos this time so I’m pleased with that. Once it ended we managed to get out of the parking lot relatively quickly, definitely a lot quicker than we expected because we kinda cut around part of the line to get to the exit faster (sorry not sorry 🤷🏻‍♀️) and then made it the rest of the way home, and Jess made me walk back to my place from her apartment instead of dropping me off which she could’ve VERY EASILY done, but she was being a butt and trying to get payback because she always has to make the walk when we hang out at my place (which we do the vast majority of the time). So I walked home, thankfully it wasn’t too cold, and then spent a while uploading the videos to my instagram story because it was being uncooperative while at the concert so I had to do them all after. My roommate got home shortly after I did and somehow managed to leave her keys in the front door, but now our front door wouldn’t unlock, so she was gonna go around the back to get to the front and asked if I had my front door key, which I thought she meant the front door to our apartment, so I gave her that she disappeared. Not long after I could hear someone calling my name so I went to the front door and was like ??? yes??? but she wasn’t at the door and I was thoroughly confused as to where she could be until it occurred to me that maybe she was locked outside, so I went down the backstairs to the back door where she was in fact stuck, we had a slight miscommunication on the key situation and she couldn’t get the front door of the building to open because I gave her the wrong key, whoops, but we got it figured out and fixed the door situation so that was good. After that was settled I got in the shower and started getting ready for bed and now I am here. I’ve been writing this post for about 40 minutes and it’s now 2 am, I have to get up at at least 10:30 tomorrow to make sure I’m presentable for the Skype interview so I think I should get to bed now. Goodnight loves. Have a lovely Tuesday.

[melchixr]

The Color Green

@imtrashandimproud said:  I REALLY LOVE YOUR FANFICTION OF MELCHIOR AND MORITZ BEING SOUL MATES! PLEASE GIVE US MORE! 

So here’s a “you’re colorblind until you meet your soulmate” and a “private school” au all in one. it feels really good to be back! 

Words: 2022

“Mom! Which one of these is the blue one?”

Melchior almost slipped on the hardwood kitchen floor once he jumped off the bottom stair. But the adrenaline that had picked him up out of bed and carried him all the way down the floor made him catch his balance once more. Mrs. Gabor sat patiently at the table, admiring the excitement on her youngest son’s face.

“The one on the right,” She responded, gesturing with her coffee. “Bring it here, Melchior. Let me write blue on the back.”

Melchior stood, waiting as he watched his mother fetch the label’s and marker. She placed one on the back of the brand new tie, writing ‘BLUE’ in the familiar short, fat letters. Her handwriting had graced the tags and tongues of almost every clothing item Melchior had ever owned. “Here you go, Mel-Mel,” She cooed and placed the tie around his already popped collar. As she tied the time, Melchior brought his slender hands up to halt her chubby one’s.

“Mom, I know how to tie a tie.” He stated, but Mrs. Gabor’s glared insisted as she continued her work.

“You’re practically grown, Mel,” She sighed. “My last birdie is about to leave the nest.”

Melchior scoffed, stepping away from his mother’s doting hands. “Mom, all I did was transfer schools. I’m not graduating.”

She placed a gently hand on Melchior’s shoulder, pulling him down to kiss his cheek.”I know, honey. Don’t be a smart-ass.” As her son turned to leave, she noticed the soft pink lipstick mark on his cheek. With a smirk, she let him go back up the stairs, knowing full well he had no way of noticing for quite some time.

“This is Mrs. Knuppeldick. She teaches French and European history,” Wendla said in her official, Junior Class President voice. Then, quickly switching to a much quieter tone, she added: “Don’t forget to bring a pen to her class. And don’t make fun of her name. She’s a total bitch.”

Melchior just giggled. He felt at ease with Wendla, with her wide eyes looking up at him brimming with joy. He wondered how anyone could be so happy when they were stuck in what looked like the most uncomfortable dress Melchior had ever seen. If it was anything like the cardigan he had just been given, it must’ve made her want to claw her skin off. “And across the hall in M6 is Mr. Sonnenstich. You might not have him, he’s math one and two, which you killed off in your old school right?”

“Uhhh….Is that algebra?”

Wendla chuckled and pushed a strand of what looked like dull black hair behind her ear.  But her smile still shone in a way that was still obvious to Melchior. “Yeah, that’s just freshman and sophomore algebra.” She sighed and pointed towards the back entrance of the main building. “Now, you got your locker already, right?”

“No, not yet…” Melchior muttered as she lead him out into the courtyard. The whole school was fairly old, in brick which just seemed gloomy and overpowering when put against the grey sky. The most jarring part of the whole campus was across the courtyard, where row upon row of brand new lockers had been put into the old stone.

In the center of the stone yard, a large stone fountain babbled with a constant stream of water. The school’s mascot, a lion, sat at top with water shooting from his mouth. The school’s crest lined the edge, with a noble three dimensional lion’s head protruding from them. It was huge, and must’ve been around longer than electricity. But still, two scrawny boys stood on the ledge like it was a play structure.

“Let me see your schedule!” Wendla stated, snapping Melchior from his fountain-themed trance. He handed her the piece of paper from his pocket. As Wendla read it, Melchior let his eyes wander back to the teenagers. It was hard to tell the two apart, as they both had pale white skin, dull dark hair, and wore plain, grey sweaters in Melchior’s eyes. The only difference between them was the fact that one of them was kneeling before the other taking pictures of his companion walking aimlessly along the edge of the fountain, arms out like a child trying to keep his balance. “Oh, your locker is the one on the top of the third red row.”

Melchior’s head snapped towards the lockers. Oh fuck. They’re color-coded.

“Oh,” Wendla sighed after a moment of silence, filled with the sound of the pair at the fountain chuckling. “Are you still colorblind? It’s alright, they have numbers. Yours is thirty-”

“No, I’m not. It’s fine,” Melchior insisted, charging towards the lockers. He looked them over, guessing at the different tones of grey. If he recalled correctly, red was sort of darker than the sky’s shade of grey. Or his skin’s sort of grey. So he moved nervously to the shade he hoped was his best guess.

“Melchior, uh…. I said third row red.”

Melchior threw what he hoped was a charming smile. “Really? I thought you said GREEN!” he laughed and moved over two more rows. Wendla cleared her throat and he moved over one more in a sort of blind prayer.

“That’s blue, Melchior.”

As Melchior felt his face turn bright red, he turned around to see Wendla’s ashamed eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, a figure came bouncing into Melchior’s sight.

“Heya, need help with your locker!” The boy said with a smile. His face was soft and warm, with a huge smile filling most of it. His hair was dark, laying like a mop over his freckled face. “I got ya! What was it, Wendla?”

“Third row red, very top,” The girl giggled. “Thanks for the help.”

The smiling boy moved back to around where Melchior started, “This is the one you need, buddy,” He told Melchior, who shuffled over awkwardly and started turning the dial as he read them on his schedule. As he did, Wendla slowly moved to stand beside him.

After a few moments, she pushed another strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry, I just uh…. Saw the lipstick mark on your cheek and thought that you….uh….had already found your color.”

Melchior turned with eyes wide. “What? Oh...Oh my god,” He gasped and began furiously wiping at his left cheek with his scratchy cardigan sleeve. “No,no, that’s my mother’s. I didn’t see it.”

Wendla and the smiling boy laughed softly, like they knew something he didn’t. He wanted to shove his head into the locker and slam the door shut repeatedly until either his head popped off or the world stopped existing outside of the locker. But at the moment, he could seem to get it open. He was hitting all the numbers, but it still wasn’t opening, no matter how much he tugged.

“It’s alright,” The smile-y boy tried to change the awkward tone of the interaction. “I got that for you, buddy. Can I see your combination?” Melchior shuffled to the side and let the boy take his place and his schedule. “Your name is Melchior, right? You’re the new guy?” He asked, reading from the piece of crumpled paper.

“Yeah, I sure am.” He replied as the boy began to turn the dial.

After a few more seconds, the locker swung open, revealing the sharpie covered insides. “Your old school didn’t have lockers?”

Melchior, already flustered, shoved his new books into the locker,” No,” he insisted. He hated looking dumb. But yet here he was, looking like a fool in front of two fairly attractive people in a brand new place. “My dad just didn’t want me going to my old school anymore.”

“Why’s that?” Wendla prodded. Melchior thought to himself that kids that grew up going to a prep school must not pick up on verbal cues.

Melchior attempted to shrug it off. “Something with leading a riot against common core in the lunch room.” He turned away from the locker to see the surprised faces of his companions. “Oh, I’m uh….not the only one who got suspended but….my dad didn’t want me there because there was a….bit of a stigma around me.”

A silence that even Smile-y boy could break hung around them. Melchior avoided their eyes once more, instead electing to close his locker and study the paint chips intently, which were a shade or two darker than the paint. Wendla cleared her throat, as if she were about to say something to get them somewhere else and on a different subject. But before she could giggle and charm her way out of the odd situation, the sound of shoes hitting hard stone approached them quickly.

“Ernst!” A slightly whiny voice called to the group. A second later, Melchior felt a hand grab his shoulder to turn him around. Instead, it just shoved him as the person grabbing him let go out of what Melchior assumed was shock.

The color red was shocking. It was vibrant and aggressive, attacking Melchior eyes with rich and deep shades. It was profound and simple in the same way that sent shivers down his spine. The paint chips were a earthy brown, coarse and rooted in what made Melchior smell dirt and wine and rain. He saw his hands touching the dial. A tanned and sunkissed beige that made his skin prickle with heat. His usually dull mole on the back of his hand was a gentle brown. His cardigan was a cavernous navy blue. His shoes were a bright purple he was surprised his mother let him leave the house in.

“Holy shit,” The whiny voice behind him whimpered. “That’s...That’s what blue is.”

Melchior had never turned around faster in his life. A boy stood behind him, a mop of wild black curls that looked like fuzz from a torn up dog toy or couch cushion perched atop his head precariously. Beneath it, a pair of eyes stared, full of shock and what might have been tears. They were green, an elegant and sharp color that looked right into Meclhior as he looked into them.

Green was suddenly Melchior’s favorite color.

“Holy shit,” The boy with a pale, sunken face cried out. His skin was still the same as it was before the color. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” he kept saying, thin hands reaching out to touch Melchior. He let the boy touch his cheek, his cold fingers displacing Melchior’s flush. “You’re real. You’re real. You’re real and….and….” He paused, pulling his hand away. “Fuck. I’m uh...I forgot my name, holy shit.”

“Well I’m Melchior,” His voice came out rougher than planned, like he was on the brink of tears. He may well have been.

“Moritz, Moritz Stiefel,” The boy seized my hand from anxiously fixing my hair and shook it. “What’s your last name?”

Ernst and Wendla laughed, finally catching onto what was happening. They stood back to watch the action.

“Gabor. Melchior Gabo-”

“Moritz Stiefel-Gabor,” Moritz cut in. “has a ring to it. Or Gabor-Stiefel. I like that more. Oh man, I’ getting ahead of myself. Do we kiss now or do we have to go out and wait or…”

Ernst let out a hearty laugh and cut between the pair of lovebirds. “Sorry, Melchior. I forgot to introduce you to my friend, Moritz. Moritz, this is the new kid, Melchior. But you’ll get to know him plenty better.”

With a nod, Moritz let out a weak chuckle. He looked like he had been holding his breath until this moment in his life and finally let it go. “Melchior, nice to meet you. I know it’s your first day but would you like to cut lunch with me?”

Looking to Wendla for approval, Melchior saw the straight-laced model-student give him a sly nod. Upon looking back at Moritz, the realization hit him that the boy he was smiling at was the boy he’d be spending the rest of his life with. “Of course. Why not?”

[leonardoflint]

LEONARDO FLINT is one of the lead vocalists of OMEN, and that’s about as much as people know about him.

PAST:

in a modern setting, the flints are still socialites, mingling with royals and CEOs, profiting off of their large estates, their many foundations and, of course, old money. loads of it. they made a pretty picture, the core family being the loving couple, their eldest son and main heir, and their adorable twins.

when the eldest became too much to handle, they shipped him off to boarding schools overseas, where they claimed he was ‘having an enriching experience’. the twins, meanwhile, began making their rounds through the poshest boarding schools inside britain at a very young age - the summers and other holidays were when they met up with arturo. just like in the magical verse, he didn’t need a wand to hurt them.

leo got impressive marks while he rubbed shoulders with some of the richest kids in the land, played in recitals, was incredible at sports, had secret breakdowns - ‘ he’s cambridge bound ‘ they’d say. leo nearly applied, but then he and lemon had a better idea.

OMEN took a couple of years to properly gain some footing, but by the time they were 19, the twins were signing a label deal and releasing their first album. it became one of the quickest selling debuts in britain, and soon they were a national sensation

PRESENT:

since then they’ve released three more, the latest being their most critically acclaimed so far. fame jump started a quick pace leo can’t seem to get out of, and the sheer number of fans (compared to the smaller wizard population) and of media exposure is overwhelming

he’s become even more secretive, protective of his well crafted image, and that has only allured the public even more. leonardo flint is intriguing. part of one of the most famous bands in the country and in the world, apparently friends with half of the people on earth, yet all of his social media is private but for one, mostly handled by his team, which he just uses for live streaming moments like ‘hey guys, i’m getting ice cream. what’s your favourite flavour? mint? i hear ya, hannah. ‘

no one really knows much about him, except from what they can gather from the songs and from his interviews ( in which he never really tells much about himself, something some people have realised ).

OMEN has won !! a couple of grammys !! and a lot of other awards. they are quite the established band

dark pop aesthetic is taken to the MAX in a modern au

lemme talk to you about something that means far too much for me: OMEN music videos

individually, they’re masterpieces. they’re not crafted to expose the lead singers, they’re a part of the story. simplistic, full of symbolism, they’re the kind of stuff people make video-essays about. OMEN music videos don’t make much sense if you just look at them, but if you watch them, pay attention, understand what the components mean, you’ve got a rich story.

collectively, they are a narrative. there are easter eggs of each other and of other albums in each. there are clues about what connects them all. symbology carries over, or transforms within the video into something new. fans and even some more casual viewers or critics try to piece them all together, and many theories float around. their music videos are the epitome of a ravenclaw - riddle within a riddle within a riddle.

I WANT TO WATCH OMEN MUSIC VIDEOS

so so so much thought is put into them. i live for this shit

gossip magazines have been claiming he and MARLENE MCKINNON are a couple and leo has made sure the woman keeps his existence in her life as secretive as he keeps all of his. gotta stay on brand

let’s take a sad turn. in a modern verse, there’s more information about mental health going around. in modern verse, the pressures of the internet and the massive amount of fans is terrifying, crushing leo, already struggling in regular verse. his cracks are so much more visible now, and he keeps spilling out of them. leo’s been avoiding any sort of confirmation, but he very well knows that he’s massively depressed, and his work has suffered, his social life has suffered, he has suffered. he’s doing his best, and definitely should get some help (sigh).

gets people talking about him after every award, because he’s always going around hugging people, making pals, loudly singing along to the ones on stage, entertaining the entire row. he’s a Delight ™

has houses Everywhere, but his favourite place to stay outside of britain is new york. he loves their vibe, loves the music scene there, also is a huge musicals nerd and just… yes.

[forloveoflibertea]

To Be Remembered | o n e

[ originally published on Wattpad : May 23rd, 2017 . unedited . word count: 2,196 . updated January 23rd, 2018 . ]

o n e

« w h y d o y o u w a n t t o k n o w w h o i a m ? »

'"Who am I?"

'"Only you can know who you are, child; no one else can command you to become someone you are not. You are, at your innermost core, who you truly are—only you can know, only you can choose to bare your truest self to the world."

'"And if I do bare my true self? What then?"

'"The world is beautiful, but cruel. It does not know us, in the same way that we do not know its truest extent. To bare one's true self—to bare one's heart—makes us vulnerable. If you bare your true self to the world, there is no telling to the extent of the pain you will go through. I tell you, my child, only bare your truest self to the one that you love, the one who can accept who you truly are."'

He blinked tiredly at the screen, the light reflecting off of his reading glasses. With a huff, Arthur shut off his laptop directly after saving and closing the file. He pinched the bridge of his nose, blindly pulling off the glasses and placing it atop his nightstand.

Green eyes gazed at the ceiling, glazed over in thought as they idly followed the white pinpricks which were supposed to resemble the stars in the night sky. He'd long finished his homework, the papers neatly tucked into his binders, which were, in turn, carefully stashed into his messenger bag. That wasn't the problem, nor was his elder brother's distinct absence from his own house.

Arthur had met Antoinette, Camden's wife and his sister-in-law, as he'd tried to silently stalk up the stairs as soon as he'd come back to the house that afternoon. Or it was more that Antoinette, the French bitch she could be, successfully ambushed him after fifty tries ever since he'd traveled across the pond to live with his brother and his wife, and had persuaded him to join them for a disastrous dinner. (A cynical Briton forced to sit before an eccentric French woman do not a successful heart-to-heart over dinner make.)

The problem was that, as much as Arthur tried, he couldn't seem to get rid of that look in the American boy's eyes during that History class. There was incredulousness there—that was already a given—but what bothered the Briton was the smallest glint of sadness he'd managed to get a glimpse of in that tiny moment that their eyes met.

He didn't understand why that bothered him—after all, he didn't know the boy personally, aside from the occasional rumours he overheard.

"Alfred F. Jones," he muttered under his breath, the name rolling off of his tongue. The American was rather popular in the campus populace—both with the females and males, what with the widespread 'fact' that the boy was bisexual. (Although, with hearsay from the popularity-crazed teenagers who went to World Academy, Arthur could only take what they said with a grain of salt.)

A stereotypical all-American cliché—high school American football quarterback, energetic, and an everyone-loves-me kind of bloke, from the Briton's occasional (unintentional) eavesdropping on the rumour mill. But there were odd occurrences: the first was that the boy—now a Junior, like Arthur—had quit the football team the school year before, when he was a Sophomore, after building up a reputation of being the 'Golden Boy' of the academy. (Or, as Arthur could gather from what he heard through the grapevine, as the 'Crown Prince' of the social hierarchy.)

It only proved to become even stranger by the fact that no one really knew what the true reason was behind the sudden—and completely unexpected—event. The second odd occurrence was that Alfred F. Jones seemed to join the so-called 'Suicide Squadron' shortly after what was widely known in the campus as 'The Tragedy' and 'The Apocalypse'.

The third was that no matter how much Arthur tried to dig deeper into the true essence of those two events, he couldn't get a single clue from every student he came across. Each one had their lips zipped tight, and immediately left after he posed the question.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

What a troublesome web of mysteries.

—

In World Academy, there were three unspoken rules which every student—both in the Social Hierarchy and out of it—already knew by heart, and the corresponding punishments labeled to each.

The first rule: Each student must be subject to one caste only.

There were two primary castes: the Royals and the Commoners. The Royals consisted of the highest-ranking in the Hierarchy, and were made up of the most popular and the richest students. The Commoners were neutral students, or those who were average in everything a high school student considered to be important: looks, luxury, and intelligence. The Commoners were the middle class in the Hierarchy.

The second rule: No student should ever associate with one who is not from their own caste without permission from the King.

To be allowed communication with a Royal for a Commoner was treated to be a special privilege. There was a strict criteria that the current King of the Hierarchy, Ivan Braginski, followed, and thus there were limited allowances for a student to mingle with someone who wasn't from their own caste.

And the third: Associating with the Suicide Squadron or anyone rumoured to be in cohorts with the Bad Touch Trio will immediately be punished.

These were the three unspoken rules of World Academy—and Arthur Kirkland, being a newcomer to the lions' den, unwittingly branded himself a 'Rogue' as he broke the rules.

—

"Say, Arthur, why do you always want to remain anonymous?"

The addressed Briton turned around, catching the stare of the green-eyed brunette. He offered a polite half-smile as the girl tapped at the printed sheets of the articles he had left upon her desk for her perusal.

"It's better this way." He said, and the girl—Elizaveta Héderváry, the Editor-in-Chief of the campus paper—frowned heavily. She stood from her seat, sweeping up the papers to wave them in front of the mildly startled Briton as she approached him.

"Don't you know how many of the students love the works you've been submitting to the paper ever since you came in that first week?" She demanded, advancing towards the uneasy Briton, who backtracked a step with each inch she moved forward.

He remembered the first time he'd gone to the school paper office with remarkable clarity. (And an underlying embarrassment.)

It had been the Friday afternoon of his first week at World Academy, just after his final class for the day. He'd planned to spend it the way he had the entire week after school: hiding out on the rooftop of the main building, writing and discarding what he wrote until the sun lingered just above the horizon in the few moments before it finally sunk and gave way to the night.

Arthur never liked to go back to his brother's house; the layout of the entire edifice reminded him too much of their home back in England. Camden had even tried to recreate the look of Arthur's own bedroom back at the old house, perhaps to alleviate the 'homesickness' the teenager didn't have. But there were too many memories lingering in every nook and cranny which resembled the old house, too many voices crowding his mind and begging his attention.

Too many regrets he could never erase.

So he spent as much time at the campus until he was forced to go back to the house. And that afternoon, as he was heading out of the main building, he met Elizaveta, who had been locking up the school paper clubroom. Or it would be more accurate to say that he literally bumped into her, and the impact sent his papers flying every which way.

He had apologized, of course, and had almost regretted doing so when she grabbed him by the shoulders and screeched, "I found you!" (Later, Arthur would realize that she had found out from whom the anonymous poem he'd left at the school paper office's submissions box earlier that week came from due to the similar handwriting both pieces—the one he'd left and the one she was clutching that day—had.)

"Your poems alone garnered so much praise, Arthur," her voice quieted, and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. When Elizaveta got going, it was extremely difficult to stop her. "Why don't you want anyone to know who's the writer behind these beautiful pieces?"

The brunette held up one of the articles, and Arthur glanced at his own looping script.

"I wait on these shores for one who'll never come back;

I wait beyond seas, beyond oceans of tears I lack."

"'And I turn away from hope, from hope that's gone,'" Elizaveta whispered, as the Briton looked away, "'And I turn to these lands, where forever I wait alone.'"

"It's better this way," Arthur repeated firmly. "Who would want to know someone like me, lass?"

Who would want to know someone who's given up on himself long ago?

The Hungarian girl smiled, and she turned around, walking towards her desk, upon which she perched herself with a knowing grin. "Oh, you never know, Arthur."

She jutted her chin in his direction, to which he elegantly raised a brow in questioning. Elizaveta merely grinned even wider, raising a hand and waving towards someone in the boy's general direction.

"Hello, Alfred!"

Arthur immediately turned around, and guarded green eyes met with amused blue. He forced himself to maintain his usual façade, crossing his arms across his torso as he regarded his fellow Junior.

The American strode into the room, nodding his head in recognition to the only girl in room with a bright grin. "Hey, Liz. Mattie's been looking for ya'; apparently, he needs your help with keeping a tight leash on the BTT again."

The Hungarian sighed, shaking her head as she hopped off of her desk, smoothing out her black Fall Out Boy tee, which was paired with a checkered skirt and ankle-high boots. (Arthur internally approved.) "Let me guess: Gil's at it again with some of the Royals, isn't he?"

Alfred nodded, stopping just a yard or so away from the Briton with his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his jacket. "Pretty much." He agreed, tilting his head in the direction of the door. "Also Franny's been flirting with the King's sisters again, while Toni... Well, I haven't seen him anywhere today."

"When will that French idiot learn that Natalya can turn his skinny ass into a freaking shish-kebab?" Elizaveta grumbled as she slung her bag over her shoulder, stomping her way to the door. (The Briton carefully kept his distance.) She turned to look at the two, tipping her head in the direction of the door. "Better get out while I'm still here; the lock on this door's been busted for a while now, which means that if somebody closes it with too much force, anybody who's still inside might get stranded for hours, and you do not want that to happen to you. Just ask Kiku—that happened once."

Arthur immediately sped out through the doorway, waiting for the Hungarian to follow suit as Alfred did the same. He kept his head turned away as Elizaveta passed by with a wave, which he returned, rather reluctantly.

He made to walk away, perhaps go up to the rooftop if he still had time, when the American reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened, abruptly whirling around on his heel to face the boy.

"What was that—"

"'Who would want to know someone like you', huh?" Alfred said, and Arthur narrowed his eyes, shoulders hunching defensively. The damn American had the nerve to listen in on a private conversation.

"What's it to you?" He uttered calmly, his tone of voice betraying the underlying current of tension which threaded through his taut muscles. It had been one of his few moments of weakness, a question of bitterness he'd unknowingly let slip in front of the only person he considered an acquaintance in this school, and now this enigma—this Alfred F. Jones had overheard him.

He couldn't have been more careless.

Alfred was a mystery—a mystery he was in the process of unraveling, and perhaps in doing so, he might unravel the mystery about himself that he tried so hard to protect.

He couldn't let anyone know who he really was.

"Well.. I guess you could say that I want to know you." He smiled, and still Arthur remained tense, unable to relax.

"Why?" He finally managed after a brief moment of silence which stretched between them. "Why do you want to know who I am?"

Alfred only smiled wider.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out, Artie."

It was when the American had started to walk away that Arthur let loose an outraged shout at the bloody insufferable nickname.

—

Notes:

Camden Kirkland — OC! Scotland

Antoinette Kirkland (neé Michel) — Nyo! France

[chlostertalks]

NBA City Editions: 2020-2021

I didn’t make one for 2019-2020, but I may make one in retrospect when I have time.

Past editions: 2017-18, 2018-19, 2019-20

City Editions are hard to top each year–shoutout to the various teams among these franchises working with Nike to make this possible. While this is a critique, I can’t knock their hustle in creating new uniforms each season. 

via @ConradBurry 

FLAMES

IG: @nba

Miami Heat: While it’s not even the best of the Vice editions (Vice, Vice Nights, Sunset Vice, Vice Wave), every launch and surrounding visual and piece of merch has been stellar--each Vice launch even had their own unique secondary colors! Sunset Vice with the orange, Vice Wave with the highlighter yellow, Vice Versa with the lavender...besitos. It’s so Miami and it’s an excellent case study on marketing and design. I also like that the last of the Vice editions is called Vice Versa–so clever. 

Brooklyn Nets: They have no excuse to run out of ideas. Basquiat (and former owner Jay-Z’s love for his art)? FLY. Basketball is an art form–the court is the canvas. I also think this opens doors for teams to collab with brands and estates; I hope one in particular comes true if you read all the way through this piece. 

San Antonio Spurs: FINALLY a City Edition! They kept passing their Military Appreciation Night jerseys as City Editions–I was hoping they’d mix it up this year, and did they ever! I love the ode to the Fiesta Spurs logo and warmups of the 90s. The court steals the show–fit for the Alamodome! 

Phoenix Suns: FINALLY a City Edition! Much like the Spurs, the Suns kept passing the Los Suns uniforms as City Editions. While one can argue that the Camelback Mountain grid pattern is similar to past Nuggets and Jazz uniforms, the Suns did something fresh, new, and exciting for their franchise. I also like the font used for “the Valley” across the chest. While Kelly Oubre on a horse is one of the first photos I saw of the jersey, he still gets to rock a fire uniform with his new team this season. 

Toronto Raptors: I love that the Raptors returned to their notable font of the 90s with last year’s City Editions, and that they continued on the same path this year. There isn’t much info on the new editions yet, but I’m assuming that the underline represents a claw mark. What will further set it off next season is if they use the 90s Raptors font to spell “North.” 

Golden State Warriors: They listened to their fan base and got it right. Dub Nation faithful were upset that San Francisco was on Warrior jerseys last season, though the players never wore Oakland on their chests during their years at Oracle or in the town in general. 

Los Angeles Lakers: A nod to Elgin Baylor during season 75 of the NBA. An ode to the land of 10,000 lakes. I love honoring our older legends while they’re still here. I also love that the jerseys are icy.

I DIG

IG: @nba

New Orleans Pelicans: New Franceeeee! Much like the Spurs and Suns, the Pelicans kept passing older concepts as City Editions. New Orleans is known for so much more than Mardi Gras, and I love the new approach to classic French roots. 

Minnesota Timberwolves: It’s simple, but clean. The North Star also fits their brand. 

Charlotte Hornets: again, simple, clean, and on-brand. 

Portland Trail Blazers: I like the homage to Native Americans and the Portland Oregon sign. 

Memphis Grizzlies: Tennessee as a state is known for music, but most only think of Nashville and country music. Memphis was home to Stax Records, a staple in soul music. The Stax logo is the inspiration for the font across the chest. Two of Stax’s biggest artists were Otis Redding and Isaac Hayes. I love the concept and the reveal video (below), so yes–I can dig it. 

Los Angeles Clippers: I had them in the flames column last year, but this year is stacked. I still like the Old English font though. 

Chicago Bulls: it’s giving me Chicago the Musical, Gilded Age, Roaring 20s vibes. I love it. The design on the sides reminds me of Frank Lloyd Wright. 

OKAY

IG: @nba​ 

Washington Wizards: alternate logo!

Sacramento Kings: Their best city edition yet, but I don’t understand the checkered pattern making a comeback. I guess it was all in chess. 

Utah Jazz: Houston Astros/Red Rock formation, but make it black. 

Orlando Magic: I like the throwback to the original Magic font, but the orange (while it is the state fruit) is an overkill. 

Cleveland Cavaliers: would be eh but it is creative. Colin Talboo deciphered the fonts for Cleveland’s ode to rock and roll; it features a range of artists from David Bowie and Nirvana to the Sex Pistols and NWA. Cleveland has a notable rock history, from hosting the first rock concert to being home to the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame. It’s a fitting tribute to the genre that put the city on the map. 

Boston Celtics: I love the take on the championship banners, but their banners are boring in design because old school. 

Atlanta Hawks: it pays homage to Dr. King, but for now, it just feels like his name on a jersey rather than a tribute. I wish they took a page out of last season’s OKC’s tribute to the bombing victims (the design on the sides of the uniforms represent the chair monuments at the National Memorial) and found a creative way to use MLK’s likeness or use the Ebenezer Baptist Church font in the unis. However, the stained glass court design is unique. 

Atlanta Hawks/LinkedIn 

EH

IG: @nba​ 

Philadelphia 76ers: It’s kinda weird having houses be the main focal point of a jersey, but the 76ers organization went a very unique route in paying tribute to Boathouse Row and their lights during the bicentennial. 

Houston Kings Oilers Rockets: The reveal video had nearly everything to do with the city of Houston but the Oilers (might be a Titans issue, but still). The Astrodome has been home to a great many things over the years–you have to give us more. At least throw a “Luv ya Blue!” reference in there or something! Speaking of the video as a native Houstonian, they left out a lot about the city, like how we have one of the world’s largest and best medical centers, or DJ Screw and other notable rap artists of the 90s, or how the biggest recording artists from the city were in Destiny’s Child. Being that Oilers colors are now on a basketball uniform, the look gives me Sacramento Kings vibes. 

Denver Jazz Nuggets: the color is of the Denver sunset, but it doesn’t help that the Jazz already had red and nature as prominent themes in past City Editions.  

Oklahoma City Thunder: It’s doing a lot of things, and it’s hard for me to make the connection to Oklahoma City. 

Milwaukee Bucks: The Great Lakes remind me of Michigan more than Wisconsin. 

Dallas Mavericks: beautiful play on Pegasus but it doesn’t really have anything to do with Dallas.

OOF

IG: @nba; Twitter: @desusnice

Indiana Pacers: It feels like something they’ve worn before. Maybe the FloJo font on this would set it off? Idk. 

Detroit Pistons: IT’S BORING. The whole thing is boring. Retire it after this season. Alex Breeder designed some concepts–if the Nets can partner with the Basquiat estate, and if the Grizzlies can pay homage to Stax Records, the Pistons and Motown can come together to make a Hitsville USA uniform. 

New York Knicks: So far, there’s no confirmation of this leak, but if this is truly the City Edition...yikes. 

[skygemspeaks]

My family is going to be moving houses at the end of June, and since I’ve started packing away my books, I thought I might as well share some of my books with y’all and give some book recs while I’m at it!

First up is the LGBTQ+ books I own. Unfortunately, I don’t have very many given it’s kinda difficult to find ones with plots that I like. (I contemplated whether or not to include the wtnv novel in this one, but seeing as it’s not centered around Cecil and Carlos, I decided to leave it out for now).

But anyways, here they are:

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz - A coming-of-age story about two young Mexican boys, Aristotle “Ari” Mendoza and Dante Quintana, who are as different as can be, but who somehow manage to forge an unbreakable connection that spans from childhood to adolescence, and beyond. Ari is angry and confused and from a broken family. Dante is gentle, and emotional, and is “crazy about his parents”. Dante knows he’s gay. And Ari has no idea what to make of his relationship with his best friend.

This one is super sweet and isn’t in the picture because it’s with Natsu at the moment. But it’s really thoughtful and adorable, and I just love Ari and Dante to bits and pieces. Definitely a must-read, guys!

Beautiful Music For Ugly Children by Kirstin Cronn-Mills -  About a young trans teen named Gabe who recently came out to his best friend and parents. The book is about him trying to make peace with who he is. Mostly, he does this through his love of music, and his bond with his next door neighbour, an old man who helps him get his first radio show, where he quickly develops a following of fans who fall for his unique taste in music and his quirky personality. 

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell - A Harry Potter-inspired fantasy book with an absolutely fascinating magic system. We follow an orphaned chosen one who’s just trying to get through the his last school year at his magic boarding school, the Watford School of Magicks, while the entire magical community somehow expects him to save them from the villain who’s been stealing their magic. And not to mention having to deal with his archnemesis vampire roommate who has probably been trying to kill him since the moment they met in first year. But after being broken up with by his girlfriend, and invited to his aforementioned archnemesis’ house over Christmas break, needless to say nothing is going as he would have expected. This entire book reads like some kind of strange, drarry roommates au fanfiction, and it’s absolutely GLORIOUS.

every day by David Levithan -  “A” doesn’t have a body of their own. For every single morning of their life, they’ve woken up in a different person’s body, with no friends or family or life to call their own. And it’s all fine. A’s gotten used to it, made peace with their fate. They’ve learned not to get too attached to anyone, learned not to attract too much attention or interfere too much with the life of the body they wake up in. That is, until they somehow find themselves falling in love with the girlfriend of one of the guys whose body they’re borrowing one day. I actually had to consider for a while whether or not to include this book, because a lot of the most important bodies A inhabits throughout this book are male bodies, and the main female lead is straight. But A themself is nonbinary and pan. They identify as whatever gender the body they’re in is, and are attracted to people regardless of their gender. Loved this book to bits and pieces, really bittersweet. It has a sequel called “Another Day” which is focused mainly on the Rhiannon, the female love interest, but I haven’t read that one yet since I’m not terribly interested in her.

Fan Art by Sarah Tregay - This one is....very juvenile. And by that, I mean it’s one of those idyllic, clichéd ya romances that we all like to pretend we don’t like, but that has all the tropes that we just adore in fanfiction and that we inevitably end up finishing in one sitting. It’s about a high schooler named Jamie who’s recently realized he’s head over heels for his (seemingly) straight best friend, Mason. Cue teen drama and angst and mutual pining. A really cute, light read with an adorable little comic near the beginning.

More Than This by Patrick Ness - Seth attempts suicide by trying to drown himself, and is pretty sure he succeeded. He felt his skull bash against the rocks after all. Only...he wakes up, naked, thirsty, starving, and utterly alone. He has absolutely no clue where he is, but the abandoned, crumbling, overgrown streets seem somehow vaguely familiar to him.

A suspenseful, thrilling, heartbreaking post-apocalypse with a gay protag that absolutely definitely has room for a sequel, though I don’t think the author has any plans to write one.

Openly Straight by Bill Konigsberg - Rafe Goldberg is openly gay, and has a pretty good life. His parents are super supportive, he’s popular at school and has lots of friends, and no one really cares that he’s gay. But he’s getting tired of always being labelled as “the gay friend”. He just wants to be a “regular guy” and not “the gay guy.” So when he transfers to an all-boys’ boarding school, he decides to become “openly straight” instead. But just when everything was going perfectly for him, it all starts unravelling when he finds himself falling for one of his new friends.

I have mixed feelings about this one. I enjoyed it quite a bit while I was reading it, but the ending left me quite unsatisfied, and after having some time away to think about it, I’m not entirely sure I like the main character very much. He’s kinda really manipulative. Read at your own risk.

Proxy by Alex London - Sydney “Syd” Carton is a proxy. Rescued from the wastelands as an infant, his debt to the city was bought by a huge corporation that sells the lives of orphans like him to various rich and powerful people, who buy them as scapegoats for their own children. Syd’s patron, Knox Brindle, is exactly the rebellious, asshole bad boy that every proxy dreads. When Knox breaks an expensive vase, Syd is beaten. When Knox crashes a car, Syd is forced to donate a dangerous amount of blood to keep him alive. When a girl dies because of Knox’s aforementioned car crash...Syd gets the death penalty. His mad attempt to flee his fate leads to the accidental kidnapping of his patron and has the two of them branded as terrorists, leading to a crazy, cross-country chase that will change their entire world as they know it.

This book. Is literally one of my favourite books in the entire fucking world. Hands down the best dystopia book I’ve ever read. The characters are absolutely fantastic, the character development is fucking amazing (Knox somehow ended up becoming my fav character???), the world is rich and vibrant, and the book is beautiful and thrilling and utterly heartbreaking. If you read just one book from this entire list, let it be this one. It also has a sequel, for those of you interested, though I haven’t read it (and don’t plan on it either), so I can’t really vouch for it.

Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan - When two boys from completely different social circles and personalities somehow stumble across each other on one mutually crappy night, their shared name brings both their lives careening together in a strange, complicated, and downright frustrating way.

This one....was kinda dark. It was funny, because one of the Will Graysons is an edgy lil emo kid who thinks strictly in lowercase and writes angsty poetry and he’s absolutely adorable. But it also addresses some very real hardships and struggles that both gay and straight teens have to face. 

[jobinterviewghost]

You can only submit entirely new text for analysis once every 7 seconds.

It's main. We've trailer fever. There's no doubt about it. In a world where Netflix and chill is the standard and luring us to go out and catch a flick is getting harder, a trailer can lead a film to worldwide success or miss its mark in the box workplace. As an outcome, we have actually seen an extraordinary effort put into the crafting of spine-tingling teasers and tantalising trailers.But the fact remains-- not all trailers are made equal.Here at Guy of Many, we are huge fans on

all things'film'. Whether it be our least preferred Japanese ghost-girl returning when again to make a throat noise that nobody wishes to hear, or Martin Lawrence plainly ageing while Will Smith remains immortal-- if the trailers red-hot, we'll have a look and let you understand about it. Without further ado, here is Man of Numerous's list of Must-See Film Trailers in November 2019. Bad Young Boys For Life Trailer # 2 Even in the pre-trailer trailer, there was a dickload

of shots fired, so you know you remain in for what you're trying to find. Without ruining the whole thing for you, this trailer show that ya boy's Mike LOAWWWWREY & Marcus are getting on in years-- Marcus more than Mike, clearly-- and they've been matched up with a younger, more millenial group-- and the old-fashioned v new school small talk occurs from there. And the surges. And the swearing. TBH, we couldn't be more pumped for this godamn action-movie work of art to-be, so make certain to examine it out when the film hits cinema's in January.Cats Trailer # 2 The movie with an alleged 300 million dollar budget, Felines could have bitten off more catnip than it can feasibly chew-- in spite of

its star-studded

cast. In this trailer, we see that the value of the movie depends on Idris Elba & James Corden's performances( thinking about just how much time they are afforded in 1 minute and thirty-eight-second trailer )and that Jason Derulo might have devoted profession suicide.Sonic The Hedgehog New Trailer Aptly called a'new 'trailer, thanks to the utter clusterfuck that was the film maker's interpretation of how' live-action'sonic must look, the 'brand-new sonic 'is happy, not

absolutely terrifying-- turns out that

cyber-bullying substantial corporations is, in truth, a fantastic way to effect change. The trailer informs us nothing new by way of plot, nevertheless, we do get to see a bit more Jim Carrey being, well, Jim Carrey. Which's got to count for something, right?The Invisible Male Trailer # 1 Starring Elizabeth Moss and backed by Blumhouse Productions (The Conjuring, Insidious )comes a very terrifying concept for a film: what if your ex-partner was a domestically violent, sadist piece-of-shit who obviously passes away(yay) however then returns, and now he's undetectable. So essentially able to emotionally and physically abuse with even more effectiveness. We 'd go so far regarding say 'set off warning' on this trailer because the filmmakers have not. The SpongeBob Motion Picture: Sponge On The Run Trailer # 1 Including this trailer out of sheer due diligence, as for some bewildering factor, there are numerous adults who indulge in a little Spongebob Squarepants, although god understands why. However, we do get to gaze upon His holiness, Keanu 'carry your shopping to your car'Reeves

, who does function in a quite sweet cameo A.K.A there is a millenial producer on the film.Jumanji: The Next Level Final Trailer The revamp that we didn't know we required but really ended up delighting in general, Jumanji: The Next Level is the family Christmas motion picture that's kinda actually for adults-- and we recommend it. The gang are all back in the game, however this time it's glitching, indicating the characters get to meta-perform a lot more than the very first film, so cue Jack Black being extra as

hell. Which once again, we're great with. The Nick Jonas cameo, however, less so.Fantasy Island Trailer # 1 Simply taking a moment to appreciate how far the Scary genre has actually come, and to toast Blumhouse for making what appears to be yet another amazing scream-flick with an original facility. Starring Lucy Hale, Fantasy Island enables its guests to play out 1x fantasy of their picking-- nevertheless, not everybody selects something light and fluffy. As you can picture, individuals will die on Fantasy Island. Which is kinda why you 'd even consider buying a ticket to this movie.The Irishman Final Trailer Whilst this author is quite over discussing Scorcese's The Irishman, a few of you might still be frothin 'for it, so here it is, for the last bloody time: The Irishman Final trailer reveals us that Scorsese is not in a laughing state of mind. In some way grittier and more severe than a number of his other movies, the evaluations remain in and kid, they are radiant. Backed by presumably powerhouse performances from Joe Pesci, Al Pacino and Robert Deniro, we're specific that Martin the motion picture genius has actually done it once again, folks.The Lender Trailer # 1 In

what extremely well could be a great film, but will most likely fly under the majority of people's radars, The Banker stars Samuel L. Jackson and Anthony Mackie and is a story of conquering prejudice, by being cleverer than your opposition. In this case, the opposition is a racist America in what appears to be the 1950's. Slicker and funnier than you may expect, the Lender is absolutely one to catch on Blu-Ray or Youtube Movies if you 'd prefer to conserve your movie theater spending plan for something with a couple of more explosions.The Grudge Trailer # 1 In what is a very fucked trailer that will stir up awful memories for Millenials who can still feel the injury of the very first western franchise, The Animosity looks to be less ugly, and two times as frightening as its predecessor. Warning: that prepared throat noise features greatly in the latter half of the trailer so it would be our tip to view with the lights'on '.0 SHARES

[wordsofphandom]

What I Wouldn’t Do - A Phanfiction Part III

At a book signing, Phil, a succesful author of children’s books, meets the five-year-old Dylan and his gorgeous single father Dan. Though they are instantly drawn to each other, certain issues, let alone a lively five-year-old complicate things for Dan and Phil, and they have to find out just what they would - or wouldn’t do, to be together.

parent!phan / fluff/ angst/ singlefather!Dan / children’s author!Phil / Dil Howlter (kind of)

Wordcount: 4.1k Warnings: none

Part III Phil loved Christmas time in London. There were lights everywhere, making the cold and wet streets look cosy and magical. Pleasant smells were coming from the shops, the cafés and the booths that had popped up at every corner and in every park. And not to mention the music and the cookies and the heartfelt ads. Yet, there was one event, coming up this weekend, that Phil did not look forward to at all; the Christmas Party at his publishing company. In the last few years, this festivity had been quite fun. Phil had met lectors, designers and other authors (and had even made out with an up-and-coming YA author in an unoccupied office last year), had drank some sparkling wine and had had a great time all together. This year would be different; everybody would be asking him about the movie deal, and when they heard that he hadn’t decided yet, would try and persuade him to sign the rights away – or keep them, depending on who he would talk to. This pending decision was bugging Phil. The trip to L.A., two weeks ago, had been fun and exciting, but it hadn’t really helped him make up his mind. Hazel was all for it – she thought it was a great opportunity for him and his brand. His mum was against it, as she feared it would commodify his characters too much. And while she loved spending holidays in Florida, she also had a healthy mistrust of most things American. But they weren’t on the forefront of Phil’s mind. He kept thinking about Dan. After their last meeting had ended in a disaster, he had seen neither Dan nor his son, and he was missing the two of them a lot. It was crazy, considering he didn’t truly know the two and had only met them a couple of months ago. Regardless, Phil knew that they were the main reason he was still sceptical about the deal. If he were to sign it, he would be spending much more time on the other side of the planet – far too far away from the little family he wanted to be part of. Not that him becoming a part of the Howell family seemed like a probable option at the moment. He had messed up so epically he would be thankful to catch a sight of either Dan or Dylan from across the street. On the day of the party, it was the Saturday of the second advent weekend, Phil spent most of his time in his office. The Kitten and Tomcat characters that he was working on were starting to get a story. Repeatedly, Phil drew them in a shelter. Maximillian was fiercely protective of Felix, and the two of them lived in constant fear of separation. Although Phil was not sure whether he really wanted them to take their story in that direction, it was a fun idea to play around with. Outside, it was raining dreadfully, so Phil truly was not tempted to leave the comfort of his flat. But he did have to face the weather eventually, when he walked from his front door to the cab. Just those few steps got his coat soaked. As usual, the party was an informal event and it took place at the office building where Phil’s publishing company was based. The entrance hall as well as the big conference room on the ground floor and several smaller meeting rooms were refunctioned to host the employees and the guests. A large Christmas tree had been set up in the hall, and there even were presents underneath. Phil was going to give his editor Eloise a present, but he hadn’t brought it. After all, Christmas was over two weeks away. “Mr Lester” someone called him. He turned his head and spotted fellow author Catherine Liu, waving at him, so he walked over to her. She was standing in a group with several other people Phil didn’t know. “This is Phil Lester. You all know him. He’s Daddy’s favourite child” Liu said, a cheeky, but slightly sardonic grin on her face. “Says the enfant terrible” Phil countered, earning some laughter from the others, including Liu. The novels she wrote were infamous and controversial, and in fiction, they were the antithesis to Phil’ books. “Tell me, Lester, what are you working on at the moment?” Liu asked. “A new book. It’s a story about a kitten and his father. That’s all I got right now” Phil was glad to tell the others, who seemed pleased with his answer. “My daughter loves your books” said one of the men. “She’ll be so excited when I tell her I met you”. Flattered, Phil smiled at him. “What’s her name?” “Marissa”. “Tell me, Mr. Lester, do you have kids?” Liu chimed in, smiling sweetly at him. “Uh, no” Phil said, somewhat sceptical. “How about you?”. “Certainly not! I’m not the mothering type… But do you have a wife? A girlfriend?” “No, I’m single” unfortunately, he added in his thoughts. “Why? Are you interested?” Liu laughed dryly. “I’m not asking for myself” she said cryptically and would not say anything more. Eventually, Phil just accepted it. They chatted amongst the group for a while, then Phil moved on to the buffet which looked wonderful. He loaded as much food as he could possibly balance onto a plate, grabbed a glass of sparkling wine and sat down at a table. He was not left alone with his food for long, though, as Richard George took the seat next to his almost immediately. Mr George was CEO and editor-in-chief at the publishing house and keenly interested in the movie deal. If it was only his decision, he’d have sold the rights straight away. “Philip!” he exclaimed, grabbing Phil’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “It’s great you’re here. What a party! Are you enjoying yourself?”. “Yes, Sir” Phil answered dutifully. “Excellent! Listen, son, I don’t want to bother you for long, I know there’s plenty of people who want to chat with you tonight, but I was wondering about L.A…. How was it? Have you arrived at a decision yet?” “L.A. was great, Sir. But…” Mr George’s face fell. “You don’t want to sell the rights”. “No, I just don’t know yet”. “As is to be expected. I know it is a big step for you, either way”. He put his hand on his arm. “May I give you a piece of advice? I saw you talked to Miss Liu earlier. As you know, she’s had three of her books adapted into beautiful films. She’ll be delighted to answer you all the questions you may have”. Phil had not known about her films. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to talk to her”. “Excellent!” Mr George kept staring at him. “Oh, you mean right now?” “No, not at all. Please do take your time” he was quick to assure Phil, but the wavering of his smile gave him away. “Okay then… Sir” Phil said. In one go, he emptied his champagne, stuffed the last little canapé into his mouth and left the editor-in-chief at the table to make his way over to Catherine Liu again. On the way there, he grabbed two more glasses of champagne, one of which he handed her when he arrived at the table she was standing at. “Hey” he said, somewhat awkwardly. “Lester! Back again so soon? And here I thought I’d chased you off with all my questions” she laughed. “Yeah, actually, you did a bit” She laughed again. “Sorry about that. There’s a bet amongst the authors…” Phil raised his eyebrows. “A bet? About me?” “About your sexuality” she clarified, sipping from her glass. “Oh, that… What did you bet on?” he wanted to know. “Nothing. I thought it was undignified and wanted to end it”. That, Phil hadn’t expected. “Thank you!” he said wholeheartedly. “No worries” she smiled. “I definitely wouldn’t like it if people bet on my sexuality”. “They don’t. As far as I know, at least” Phil said. “Great!” she exclaimed. “I’m bi, if anyone’s asking”. “Me too” Phil admitted. She clinked her glass to his. “Good to know we’ll have each other’s backs”. Phil smiled at her, warmly. Catherine Liu had always been a little scary to him, but this conversation was going great. “There’s actually something you could help me with…” “Okay, shoot!” “I’ve heard that –“ But at that point, his mobile phone started ringing.

When Dylan was about one year old, Dan and Jess had sat down with Jess’s parents and had discussed who would take care of Dylan. For the first six months, they had lived together – Mummy, Daddy, Baby – in a small flat in Wood Green. After that, Dan had had enough and he had moved out, leaving Dylan behind. He had gotten his own flat and a promotion, and he had asked Jess if he could take Dylan. Jess had happily agreed. If it’d been entirely up to her, she’d have handed over her son and never seen him again. When her parents had heard, they’d gotten involved. So, that day, on one of the hottest days of the summer, they’d met at Dan’s new flat and they had laid down the rules: Dan and Jess would continue to share custody, but Dan would be the primary care giver. Dylan would mainly live with Dan, but Jess would have him every second week from Thursday evening to Monday morning. Back then, it had seemed like a good idea. An idea, that Dan had been happy with. He wasn’t anymore. Every “Mummy-weekend”, he spent anxious and restless, waiting for Monday afternoon to arrive, when he could take his son home again. It would not be different this weekend. On Thursday morning, Dan packed a bag for him, while Dylan ate porridge in the lounge. “Are you excited to see Mummy today?” Dan asked, when he was finished with the bag. “Yes” Dylan said. “But when will I see Phil?” Guilt tugged at Dan’s heart. “I told you, Dylcakes. It’ll be a while until we meet Phil again”. “But why?” Dylan asked. “You know that Phil is very busy”. Sulking, Dylan hopped off his chair and went into the hall, to put on his school coat, while Dan put the bowls into the dishwasher. Before he went to meet his son in the hall, he took his lunch from the fridge and looked at the calendar that was stuck to it with magnets. Nothing planned for tonight – no one to distract him from worrying about Dylan. “I meet Phil all the time” Dylan informed him, putting on his shoes. “Why can I see him not?”. Dan smiled. “It’s ‘can’t I see him’” he corrected Dylan. “And Phil really is busy these days. I think he’s working on a new book”. It was his best attempt to distract Dylan, but the little boy suddenly had tears in his eyes. “You’re lying! Phil doesn’t like me anymore” he said. Seeing his son like this made Dan want to cry, too, so he scooped him up in his arms and hugged him tightly to his chest. “No, that’s not true, Dylan. Phil likes you very much. I promise”. “Are you sure?” Dylan snuffled.  “Yes, I’m absolutely sure” Dan said.  “But why can’t I meet him?” Dan grabbed Dylan’s reading bag, his overnight bag and his woolly hat with his free hand, then managed to open the door and step outside. “It’s because Phil is very cross with Daddy” he explained, prompting Dylan to look up to him with huge eyes. “Why?” “I was very mean to him”. Dan started walking down the road, taking the route to Dylan’s school. Usually, he did not carry him on their walk, but today, it seemed appropriate. After all, Dan did have to confess to something. “Why? Do you like Phil not?”. Despite himself, Dan chuckled. “It’s ‘don’t you like him’, love. And yes, I like him very much. But adults sometimes do mean things to people they like”. “Then you have to apologize” Dylan said, quite sternly. “I want to play with him again”.  “You’re right, I should apologize”. If only it was that easy, Dan thought.

When they arrived at school, Dan kissed Dylan Good Bye, an odd feeling of premonition in his stomach. He wished Dylan didn’t have to go to Jess’s this weekend. Occasionally, when Jess had been exceptionally neglectful, Dan revoked her privilege to see Dylan. But she’d been on her best behaviour two weeks ago, so there was nothing he could do. He watched Dylan disappear in the classroom, then he went to work, which was rather uneventful. He spent his lunchbreak with two colleagues and in the afternoon, he went shopping. Very rarely, he took Dylan on a shopping trip. Even on his own, being surrounded by too many people stressed him out, but having to keep his eyes on his son at all times gave him a headache. That meant he was in desperate need of a new pair of jeans. Except for the one he was wearing that day, all the other jeans he owned had a gaping hole somewhere. The city was crowded; Christmas was two weeks away and people wanted to shop for presents, marvel at the lights or drink mulled wine. Despite feeling uncomfortable, Dan managed to buy some presents for his parents and his brother, and he even bought a woolly blanked for Jess. Maybe he was trying to bribe her, to take good care of his son. He bought a pizza on his way home and arrived quite late. The flat was cold and quiet, and while Dan ate his dinner in front of the TV, he felt a bit lonely. Without meaning to, he thought of Phil, and he already had his mobile out, his thumb hovering over the phone button, when he decided he wouldn’t call him. Almost two weeks had passed since that dreadful morning, and still, Dan wasn’t sure exactly who to blame. Himself, probably… But he was still angry with Phil, too. Maybe it was the best after all to never get in contact with him again. Dylan would be sad, of course, but he’d forget soon enough. It should have been a comforting thought but Dan only felt sadder and lonelier.

Friday was exhausting; Dan spent the entire day waiting for a disaster, that never happened. On Saturday, he slept in. When he woke up, a thick and heavy rain was drumming onto the windows. He slipped on some sweatpants and a t-shirt and went into the kitchen to get some coffee and some breakfast. The world outside was soaked and grey. Dan liked this sort of days. It was the perfect excuse to go right back to bed – which he did. With a mug and a steaming bowl of porridge in his lap, he watched a few episodes of his favourite anime and afterwards had a very long, very hot shower. It was almost 3pm when he was dressed and ready to go out. In the afternoon, he met up with a friend. Originally, they had planned to see an art installation at Kensington Garden, but since it was still raining, they went to the V&A instead and visited their exhibition about bridal gowns. Afterwards, in the lobby, they were discussing what to do for dinner. Dan was leaning towards Indian food, his friend wanted Chinese. Suddenly, Dan’s phone started vibrating in his pocket. Jess was calling.

“Hi Jess” Dan answered, already exasperated. “Don’t freak out, but we’re at the hospital”. It felt like a punch in the stomach. “What?!” “Dylan fell on his head and had to get stitches”. “What?” “He had to get stitches. He’s alright though”. “He had to get stitches! He fucking isn’t alright!” Dan said quietly, trying to supress his anger and fear. There was a pause. When Jess finally answered, she sounded annoyed. “I’m just calling you out of courtesy. I don’t have to tell you anything”. “Yes, you fucking do! He’s my son! Where is he?” “We’re at the University College Hospital” Jess answered, reluctantly. “They want to monitor him for another two or three hours, but you don’t have to come”. “Of course I’m coming!” Dan said, “Dylan needs me”.

Everything was over and dealt with when Dan arrived at the hospital. Dylan had gotten three stitches at the back of his head, but the wound was mostly invisible underneath his thick, curly hair. He’d been examined by an expert for traumatic brain injury and been put into a bed on some light pain killers. He’d slept for about an hour, but now he was awake and happy. “Daddy!” he shouted excitedly, when Dan entered the room. Jess was sitting next to him on the bed, so Dan sat down at his other side and pulled him into a careful hug. “Hello my love. How are you feeling?” “Good. I got a lolly” Dylan said. “See” Jess said impatiently. “He’s fine”. “Is that what the doctor said?” Dan asked anxiously Jess frowned. “She’s going to be back in 30 minutes to tell us”. To pass the time, they watched some TV together. The hospital room was meant for two children, but for now, Dylan had it to himself. Snug between his parents, watching his favourite show, he seemed very contend. When the doctor arrived, she took one look at Dylan and immediately declared he didn’t need to spend the night. Just to be sure, she asked him and Jess some more questions, tested his reflexes and shone a small torch into his eyes. “Your son was lucky” she explained to Dan and Jess. “He isn’t concussed and the wound is superficial and should heal nicely and quickly. You can take him home now. Just make sure he gets a good night’s rest. A day like this can be very exhausting for such a small body”.

Outside, they hailed a taxi. “Where to?” the cab driver asked. Dan gave him his address. “Absolutely not!” Jess exclaimed. “I’m taking him home, Jess” Dan said. “He should sleep in his own bed tonight”. “He’s got a bed at my place, too. And it’s my weekend! He’s coming with me!” Dylan, sat in the middle between them, looked from one to the other, lost. “You got him into hospital! Don’t you think you’ve done enough this weekend?” “You can’t do this! It’s against the rules. It’s my weekend!” Jess shouted. “Shut up!” Dylan screamed, interrupting his parents. Stunned, they looked at him. “Are you done?” the cab driver asked, audibly annoyed. “Where to?” Dan said his address again, and this time, Jess didn’t complain.

They spend the cab ride in icy silence. In each hand, Dylan held one of his parents’, but even he didn’t say anything. Obviously, the events of the day had worn him out. Dan couldn’t blame him. Bleeding from a head wound and having to ride in an ambulance must have been terrifying. He could blame Jess though. He was so angry at her. When they arrived, Dan payed the driver while Jess and Dylan got out. Jess had picked up Dylan and was holding him to her chest. Seeing that, Dan got even more angry, though he could not explain why. “Let’s go” he said and headed down the stairs to open the front door. Fortunately, Jess did follow him und she and Dylan got inside. “Will you please let Dylan down?” Reluctantly, Jess put their son on his feet. They all took off their coats and shoes, and Dan send Dylan to go brush his teeth. “It’s way past your bedtime, my love”. “That’s not fair!” Jess said, as soon as Dylan was in the bathroom. “It’s my weekend!” “Yeah, well, I don’t care about fairness” Dan threw his phone and his keys onto the couch. “All I want is for Dylan to be safe. He needs to rest”. “He can rest at my place!” “Can he, though?” Dan said bitingly. Jess crossed her arms in front of her chest. “It’s my weekend! You have him all the time!” “God, Jess! He’s not a toy!” They were getting louder. Usually, there was a rule in Dan’s mind that he would never shout at Jess when Dylan was around, but she so deserved to be shouted at. “I know that! He’s my son, my son! You cannot take him from me!” “Take him? You basically abandoned him at my door step!” “That was years ago!!” “Like you’ve gotten any better! You weren’t fit to care for a child, and you aren’t now”. There were tears in Jess’s eyes now, her cheeks and her neck were burning red. “I try so hard!” “Trying and failing, obviously”. “Dylan, what are you doing?”. In his pyjamas, Dylan was standing in the hallway, Dan’s phone to his ear.

Phil got his phone out of his pocket and gazed at the screen. “Dan Howell” it said. He looked at Liu apologetically. “I’d better take this” he said calmly, not giving away the excitement he felt. Finally, a sign of life from Dan. He took a few steps away from Liu and answered. “Hello?” “Phil?” That was a child’s voice. “Yes, it’s Phil. Dylan, is that you?” “Hello”. Phil had to take that as a yes, he supposed. “Hey, buddy, how are you?”. “Mummy and Daddy are fighting” Dylan informed him. Suddenly, there were some muffled noises and Phil could hear Dan’s voice saying something along the lines of “not allowed to use my phone” and “who did you call”. Then: “Phil, are you there?” “Hey, Dan” Phil answered, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Uh… hey” Dan said, sounding quite awkward. “Sorry, sorry about that… I was distracted and Dylan got my phone”. “It’s fine… he said you and Jess were fighting? Is there anything I can do?” “Um, no… uh… that is, if you don’t mind… You don’t have to…” “What is it?” Phil demanded. “Well, if you’re free right now, maybe you could come by and look after Dylan? I’d – not now Jess! – I want to talk to Jess without him listening in. Is that at all possible?” Phil looked around. His editor Eloise wasn’t here yet, the prospect of talking to Mr George again was frightening and Catherine Liu was also intimidating. He’d much rather spent his time with the Howells.

“Sure, I’ll be right there”. “Thanks, Phil. You’re a lifesaver!” They hung up and Phil went back to Liu. “Hey, sorry, something’s come up and I’ve got to go. Can we get back to this later?” Catherine raised an eyebrow. “Sure, no problem”. They exchanged phone numbers, then Phil hurried outside and hailed a cab.

When he arrived at Dan’s flat, he rang the doorbell. A few moments later, the door opened and Dylan fell forwards and hugged Phil’s legs. Phil swallowed. “Hey, Dylan”. “I missed you” Dylan’s voice sounded muffled against Phil’s jeans. Smiling, Phil bent down and plucked the little boy from the ground. Dylan wrapped his arms around his neck and put his head against his shoulder. Embraced like this, Phil went inside and met Dan and Jess, who were sitting silently at the kitchen counter. Jess gave him a once-over and wrinkled her nose. “Oh, it’s him” she said. “Yeah, I told you” Dan said. “You’re not sleeping with him, are you?” she asked, making Phil flush. “Not in front of Dylan, please” Dan scolded her, but Jess only shrugged. “Phil has never slept here” Dylan informed them. “Can we have a sleep over?” That made Dan and Phil both smile. “We’ll see” Dan promised. “For now, he’s going to stay here with you, while Mummy and Daddy go out to discuss some grown-up things” He turned to Phil. “Will you be okay here?” “Sure!” Both Jess and Dan kissed Dylan Good Bye, then Phil carried him into his room and sat down on his bed with him. Looking already much sleepier than he had minutes earlier, Dylan climbed off him and under his blanket. “May you please stay here until I sleep?” he asked, looking up at Phil drowsily. “Of course!” Dylan patted the bed beside him. “Lie down” he commanded. So, Phil kicked of his shoes and lay down next to him. Contend, it only took Dylan a few minutes to fall asleep, but Phil stayed with him longer. It was very peaceful to lie there with the sleeping child and to listen to his steady breathing. After a while, when he was certain Dylan would not from the movement, Phil got up and tiptoed into the lounge, where he sat down on the couch. He watched a bit of TV, but mostly, he wanted Dan to come back. He wanted to talk to him, about what had happened, to apologize. Maybe, he wanted to hold him. But two hours passed, and then a third and Dan still wasn’t home. Eventually, Phil turned off the TV stretched out on the couch, and slowly, he fell asleep.

[deathghost8]

Battle shout definitions Preface

Here it is. massive post combining thought that happened as the battle shout fully emerged as my brand of all disciplines. Fragment - battle shout chapter - Combined story telling segments (Curated from the different WIP posts) EDIT NOTES - these are fragments from my social pages where I am in the battle shout and adventure basics thought. It’s incomplete as it only goes back to a gengar picture in my feed. There is more I still need to add. — Newer to older (will create a 2nd one that is in a final decided order for a reader, may jump between different moments in the time line, kept to a minimum for helping comprehension ——— Whoever offers human growth / wellness at either no cost or a much lower cost than previously widely available is winning in capitalism. I hope to invent the No Cost solution, following the footsteps of tech brands and passionate innovators of our time. Games and medicines altering my state of mind provided me a space within which to BECOME me. They offered me the lesson of re sociating, once I started practice a desire to learn it. Here are some of the problems I inhabited and the solutions I learned after using medicines - ---calorie /nutrition deprivation : solution - making eating easier with hacks like prep, (paper dishes/cutlery), getting timing right, the decision to Breakfast and eat it slowly - replacements like the Soylent drink - medicines that fix appetite IE cbd ----hypervigilance - maybe haven’t fully escaped this one yet. It’s an ongoing conflict - using Medicines that reduce my physical anxiety cortisol which comes through as wheezing escalation attacks and very bad sleep - sleeping correctly makes me feel calmer, breathe/think clearly Medicine examples - coffee, reishi mushroom, cannabinoids, magnesium, L theanine, Lemon balm, Sleep specific - L tryptophan, Zinc, valerian root, doxylamine (unisom) -----Escapism - learning how to use mindfulness and writing to transform my self avoiding into Self Actualization ------Counterdependence - Realizing that sharing/affection and giving affirmation would make me feel good, letting me treat ppl like I deserved their attention (as a provider) not gonna stand by saying nothing while they try to trash gaming and say we are giving kids screen / media addictions, when the only things I even really know I learned from gaming, mostly online blizzard and/or adventure gaming. I’m gonna teach what I learned. It’s battle shout. how we are failing worst as a so called civilized population: Educating the youngest. We are not doing it. We are not prioritizing growth and wellness for the children here. We are breaking their families, parents and guardians instead of supporting. Dehumanism is institution. *witnessing your smiling face is the deepest privilege I will experience in living* We are not gonna save anyone until we recognize that growth is about including everyone, recognizing their individual passions and curiosity, recognizing that they themselves will be the only ones to decide how to be that self, Monetary Value will only every Destroy us all. EVERY one is struggling and i care about EVERYONE, humanity needs a bigger solution than a Lifeline reaction to the symptoms rather than the cause. {If you or someone you care about is struggling, please know you are not alone. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is available at 1-800-273-8255 in the U.S. or find support worldwide at ‪https://www.befrienders.org/ }‬ —schools where all gamers, creatives, learners are accepted so that human wellness growth can be placed above the falseness of Monetary Value -- available at nowhere because no innovator yet has cared with their entire life's mission to save those we currently discard. The school I'm trying to invent has a simple Main Value - School is Lunch. The target priority is non monetary. *Monetary Value will not measure our success* Human growth measures it. Human currency. what I would do with the elusive Lottery / Genie situation is create the Ultra Library whose only mission was to include as many human beings in growth wellness as possible, to offer them the place, resources, nutrition, and community safety to build the life they want to create IN essence I am trying to invent a school. I have a seething hatred for the failure of Public sector school, dealing with both neurodiversity concerns and non child centered curriculum design. Self educating is superior. Curation can only help existing curiosity and passion. my huge dream is to innovate the third place concept in fusion with educationalism, gaming cafe, the concept of Feeding every learner because it's more educational- the ultimate capitalism winner is the one whose Patrons flock simply because it is Better. =high contrast videos with songs of numbers, counting, vehicles/ramps, and piles of balls=The young children find these things very amusing. - the wise old teachers find the fact very important to distribute, although they themselves do not find it amusing they find the fact that the tiniest students are amused very important for distribution.== []2[] Operating vehicles or consuming alcohol are the most dangerous and pointlessly risky activities done by anyone (who doesn’t do employment that is specifically danger facing). Most are not qualified for these activities. It’s not safe, please leave it to the professionals few. Giving, the act of providing because I want to see human growth and learning. That’s my freedom to practice. Dehumanism makes it into a crime, after valuing it zero. Dehumanism Institution perpetuates the idea that giving, feeding, teaching, expressing can be penalized as crimes. These are the pillars of MY free speech. Giving, the act of providing because I want to see human growth and learning. That’s my freedom to practice. (Scott Warren who faces up to 20 years in prison for giving food & water to 2 men who needed help in the Arizona desert.) What I’m talkin about is this anti educationalism. Shocked ? That we aren’t already Veterans for standing rock +500K decent human beings SWARMING the sites where this has happened to tell them we won’t stand by as bystanders to Deadly Dehumanism. We are complicit in these deaths. I am not gonna be quiet about this, my brand is built upon radical educating, lifeguarding, human growth. That also means opposing bully bigotry. []3[] There is a bullying situation regarding the spectrum. Happening to one of my closest humans. It is making her suicidal (no one can handle endless mistreatment, then mental health slides) - I learned how to fight off the suicide ideas because I was in a kind of rock bottom near that for 10 years - ultimately, I defeated the boss, and I learned the strategy. learn to Tank at the front of it for the people I’m trying to educate, and keep them here on our Alive team. This is the real deal why I am the tank. The battle shout is to Shine the truth and save your life, you the most brutally dehumanized by the institutions of this economic-dystopia She has to be given the feeling she does have the power and the choice whether to stay here with us, alive. Educationalism is the desire to be surrounded by growth allies, and free from anyone who thinks a decision that reduces or infringes your growth and learning is either ok or even debatable with you Can we get Birth insurance ? I want it to function like life insurance, in the event you are born, the insurance policy covers some assurances. Wait, no, that’s not an insurance plan, that’s what School is meant to be I’ll be over hear spamming battle shout and taunt if you come at me debating seriously over contexts whose choices are outcomes that don’t abuse and compromise a child’s school environment, or hurting the child’s emotional and basic wellbeing. My Aggro will not be exceeded! Let us consult YouTube, young one. Where’s the one about the baby Shark? I will find it for u most easily. If u ever get mad at someone u got road rage or someone is gank camping. Just tell them Yo dude please go hug urself! The time has come To Learn Bout Eating breakfast! If u don’t eat it, ur brain won’t think right, ya Dingus!! Wake up and eat this health, that’s your grade. Welcome to school. Favorite offline activities - social prompt - Activities that take place on beds, furniture or desk. Followed by wandering whether by land, air, or foot. Followed by culinary making. I identify toward the feeling that being burly means being kind - a defender, a watcher, a lifeguard. So it’s cool to see brands grounding themselves in this type of thought. burly man coffee promoted by a podcast i watch Brands that literally hold up kindness and human growth as a piece of their identity are the brands with sanity to shine light in the darkness of economic institutional dehumanization No game except maybe the sims had a soap item, demonstrated a buff benefit for soap. Soap knowledge is something that legitimately is part of human excellence - mind efficiency - educationalism ^^highlight$$ What I am concepting is the fact that valuable education is about human cognitive expansion, making this brain run the way its optimized to run, repetition, medicines/enhancers, the basic sensory reboots. Thinking better, clearer, bigger, quicker, learning ABOUT thinking. {schools get blamed for inability to solve the inequality economics} Entirety of the problem: the loss of investment into human growth and wellbeing. Capitalism forgot human currency value, then got surprised when everything turns shit? School IS lunch. We don’t need schools/tests/graduation. Kids will unschool just fine for the rest, if they are fed, safe, and able to have rest and resources and tech so they can iterate Failure during Curiosity. We need to care about human wellbeing, within our economics. Parents can and will educate. Most of the educating that needs to happen can only really be done by them. Gaming zen works for human growth bolstering because it follows the pattern our brains already know - repetition, the core block of neuroplasticity. This the overarching purpose of my Adventure Basics educational learning plan. As a creative first it’s my quest to harness games, adaptogens, and shamanism/lucidity/psychadelics to find transcendence. We can pair ego repletion with deeper Re-ssociation as an ultimate healing / neurogenesis. This will allow us to grasp mental wellness and human creative excellence. ** [intent statement as disciplines] From the multi disciplinarian standpoint- •Nintendo console 8 - 64 bit thought •Logic puzzles / riddles •classic adventure / role playing •classic FPS •classic dungeon crawl •Modern Adventure (games less about puzzle solving and more about finding all paths in a very large and breathtaking expanse) •Attention + Sensory rich interactive experiences •Primal Rage - the use of violence and intensity in musical and gameplay aesthetics •Cave human Dominance and roles thought deriving from gameplay, aspects of being Front edge protector of the tiniest most important Clan members •Economics Core freedom ideal - the belief that all interaction must be voluntary and the belief in a Best unity of gathered Wills ||||||Final crusade - educating to be correctly seen as: self evident truth about human growth, spanning nutrition, medicines, tools/games/challenges and driven by self voluntary []4[] School is Breakfast Lunch and Dinner plus freedom to explore one’s own sparks to ideas This is what I am teaching with my Wow Classic Adventure Basics educational Learning plans! ~~ One of my most important lessons about video game wellness is a thought from Mike ‪@MikeLICSW‬ Langois, that taking command of a powerful or attractive identity gives us strong boosts of mental ability and cognitive balance ultimately, for small attention cost. Ego repletion. It’s proven fact generosity makes u happier person. Why is this - the act of giving sparks gratitude to come forth. Gratitude literally saves, while angry kills u. This is the difference between troll griefing and community support