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thecozywhaleshark · 5 years

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King of Hearts (pt. 1)

A/n: ok big oof big oof big oof I’ve just started this series and get ready folks it’s gonna be a real long one and a real steamy one and i’m excited to continue it

Word Count: 3962

Warnings: Escort Jin. A little smut (fingering). Swearing. It will only get worse from here. This is the tame part.

Summary: You are a famous writer who can’t exactly show up to an event alone... so you hire an escort... his name is Jin

Staring anxiously at the phone before you, you tapped your fingers on your desk and tried to decide.

This was not the greatest idea you’d ever had. But it couldn’t be that bad, right? You’re not that pathetic … right? This is a thing people do… right? And nobody would ever know… right?

You sigh and bury your face in your hands.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid book party. Stupid publisher’s meeting. Stupid erotica writer with no stupid date.

Of course, you could always show up alone, but that would spark questions.

A wonderful writer like you with no date? What a shame. So pretty too. How are you getting your inspiration? Are you between boyfriends? Do you have many one night stands?

Questions you didn’t want to deal with. How do you tell your sponsors and publishers and everyone who worked on making your books boom that you haven’t been on a date in over three years? Haven’t had sex in just as long? That your sex life was so dry even the desert probably pitied you?

You stared at the website open in front of you and moved your hand over your cell phone. It’s just one night. And for totally innocent reasons. You typed in the number, put it on speaker, and waited.

The phone clicked and a friendly woman’s voice purred through the speaker:

“Heart Escort Services, this is Cindy, how may I help you today?”

You swallowed. Of course her voice sounded like sex. Just like her trade.

Quiet, you don’t know anything about her. Don’t judge. You’re the one calling the line.

“Hello? Is anyone there? I swear to god Jeremy if this is you I’m going to report you to security because you can’t keep calling to listen to my voice and jerk off you mother-”

“Um, hello.” You stammer, and the lady on the other end goes quiet for a moment.

“Oh! I’m so sorry about that. Thank you for calling Heart Escort Services, how can I help you?”

You fiddle with the string of your hoodie and bite your lip. “Do you have male escorts?”

“We sure do! Do you have any specifics?”

You laugh nervously. “Someone handsome?”

She laughs lightly. “Honey, all our men are handsome. We are a highly sought after escort service. Not just anyone can be an escort.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You can feel yourself blushing furiously even though you knew it was just a phone call. You bury your face in your hands.

Lord God please, smite me from above.

Honestly, you didn’t care who your date was. You could always tell your publisher at the next event that it ended up being a short term fling.

“Um, do you have anyone available on March 23? I just need someone to um… escort… me to an event? It’s from 7-10pm.”

You cringe. Did I really just say ‘escort me to an event’ to an escort service? Smooth.

Cindy hums on the other end of the phone and you hear flipping – probably some sort of planner for the escort’s events.

“Alright, we have three men available on the day you requested at the time. Would you like me to give you their names and descriptions?”

You don’t want to choose. You just want a date. “Um… no… I’m not too picky.”

Cindy chortles. “That’s a first. No really, honey I’m going to need more than that. You’re paying for the service right? Then it’s okay to be picky.”

Oh, well when she puts it like that…

“Uh, what or sorry, which? Of the three is the most sociable? It’s a really social night and I need them to be able to hold their own in a room full of strangers if that’s okay? And um, younger? I’m only 24…”

You hear more clicking and humming from Cindy as she decides. “Okay, hun. I have a 26-year-old Korean man named Jin. He’s honestly one of the more talkative escorts that we have. I’m sure he would do great at your event. Just so you know, if you want him the entire night it will cost extra..”

“No!” you almost shout, then quickly backpedal. “I mean, no. No, sorry I don’t want him for the entire night. Just 7-10.”

“Alright, 7-10 it is then. Where should he meet you?”

You thought for a second. You were going to need to walk in with him. The event was at the Cedar Valley Hotel ballroom on 2nd.

“Can he meet me at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd Street?” It was down the street from the hotel, at the end of the block. They could walk up and in together.

You heard some more typing and pencil scribbling before Cindy spoke again. “Jin will meet you at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd on March 23 at 6:45 pm. He will be wearing a black suit and a red tie. Please remember that we only take cash, and you will pay him for his time.” You nod and quickly scramble over your desk for a sticky note and pen.

Jin. Black suit. Red tie. Christine’s. 6:45pm.

Cindy tells you his charge and you write it under the time with a note to make a trip to the bank, surprised at how high it is.

Of course he is dummy. He’s an escort. This place is high rank.

High, but not unreasonable you reasoned. You had the cash. He must be really good at what he does. But so were you.

“Thanks, Cindy. Anything else I should know?”

She laughs again on the other end of the line. “You should really have considered taking him for the night. You, missy, are missing out.”

You find yourself blushing furiously again and hang up. Pushing your hands through your hair and letting out a long breath.

You’re really doing this. You just hired an escort. You laughed to yourself and got out of your chair. If only your mother could see you now. Wouldn’t she be so proud?

You walk over to your closet and begin to flip through it. Black suit. Red tie. Black suit. Red Tie. What did you have that matched that?

~ three weeks later ~

You stepped out of your taxi and fidgeted with your dress, pulling the hem down. You hadn’t realized how much it had shrunk when you decided to risk throwing it into the washer instead of taking it to the dry cleaners, and now your originally knee-length black pencil dress came down only to mid-thigh. You checked yourself out in the reflective glass of the café.

Simply cut black pencil dress – classy with just a little bit of décolletage and leg on display.

3 1/2-inch heels – as high as you can go without falling while you walk.

Simple crystal earrings.

Loose low bun with just the right amount of face-framing.

Black and silver beaded clutch.

You walked into the café and headed to the bathroom.

Makeup on point. Just touch of the red lipstick – red to match his tie – and you’re good.

You step out of the bathroom, putting your lipstick in your purse and sit down at one of the tables by the window, glancing at the time.

6:37 pm. You’re early.

You sip a glass of water nervously, trying hard not to bite your fingernails.

Please be here. Please don’t be late. Please be at least cute.

You swirled the condensation left from your glass on the table with the tip of your finger and looked at your phone again.

6:39pm.

God, those three minutes seemed like an eternity.

At 6:45pm on the dot, the door of the café dings open and a tall, handsome man strides in. He has purpose in every step, and you can’t stop yourself from staring as he glances around the room, sees you, and turns on his heel coming your way, dropping into the seat opposite of you.

Damn. He’s hot. Like really hot. Stupid handsome hot in a suit and tie. Nobody looks that good in a suit. And shoulders. SHOULDERS. How the fuck –

“Are you y/n?” he asks casually, crossing his legs and looking at you with one eyebrow quirked.

“How-how did you know?” you stutter, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear.

He leans forward and gives you a grin. “We’re the two best-dressed people in this establishment.”

You look around you and laugh. You definitely were. Two people in formalwear in a place that suggests jeans and sweaters.

“I guess the formal dress would give it away.” You smile at him and he grins back, putting you more at ease.

Stupid handsome guy has a nice smile. Of course he does. Shut up, y/n.

“I’m Jin.” He holds out his hand.

You shake it, trying to give him a warm smile and not look creepy or freaked out. “Y/n, but I see you already know that.”

“I hear we’re going to an event? What kind of event?”

You fold your hands in front of you to stop them from fidgeting. “I will tell you, but you can’t laugh.”

He leans forward even more, resting his face in his palm. “Ooo, this sounds interesting.”

“I’m serious.” You try to pull a serious face and he sits up and folds his hands in front of him too.

“Serious.”

You nod. “Okay. So this event, it’s a publisher’s dinner. Fancy thing. I’m an author, and it’s important. Help’s me keep in contact with my sponsors and donors and team who made my publishing’s possible.”

“What kind of books do you write?” he looks genuinely interested. You hesitate and decide to tell him a half-truth.

“Uh- romance. Romance novels. Real cheesy stuff.”

He nods and you can see him trying to hide his smile. You give him a side-eye. “Shut up.”

He works his jaw and takes a deep breath. Trying to hold his laughter. “I’m not laughing.”

“Yeah, but you want to. I can see it.”

He smiles then, a big one this time. “Hey wait you’re the one who just referred to her own works as, and I quote, ‘real cheesy stuff.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers and you laugh.

“That’s because it is!”

“If you think it’s cheesy, why do you write it?”

You look back down at the table with a smile and swirl the water on your table in a squiggly line. “Because people like cheese, it sells well.”

He laughs. “I bet.”

“So anyway, I can’t exactly show up to this meeting alone. Everyone thinks that I get my ideas from experience… when I do not.” You blush and look down again.

“Because you use your brain.” Says Jin and you look up, surprised at his answer.

This is the first person to know what I mean without teasing me about my lack of a sex life...

“Exactly! Nobody wants to understand that I’m using my own brain and imagination and information that I researched and read instead of personal experience.” You roll your eyes and give him a big smile and he chuckles.

“Because people are idiots and want to think they know everything,” he replies and you nod in confirmation.

He gives you an easy smile. “So a publisher’s party for a cheesy romance novelist who just wants them to stay out of her personal life. Sounds fun.” He stands and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You softly place your hand in the crook of his arm. “Well now, don’t I feel fancy.”

He laughs and puts his hand over yours. “If we are playing a fake couple, we better start acting like one, dearest.”

You find yourself turning red again. Damn it easily blushing face stop it. “Of course… honey.”

He grins at you. “That’s the spirit!”

Together you walk down the street and into the hotel lobby. The desk clerk gestures you on towards the ballroom and you easily are able to find it. Taking a deep breath you place your hand on the door and look at Jin.

“You ready?” He asks, and you nod.

“Let’s do this.”

“You forgot my pet name, pumpkin.”

You roll your eyes and open the door, giving him a sugary sweet smile over your shoulder. “Sorry, babe. Now come along dear, I simply must introduce you to my publisher.”

He grins and wraps his arm around your waist, and you can only pray you can pull this off.

You had been at the party for over an hour now, and Jin had been great. Really great. He introduced himself as your boyfriend, and he had been making it really fun as you played pretend. Currently, you were talking to a group of your publishers and sponsors, and Jin was winning them all over with his quick smile, easy charm, bad dad jokes, and of course, his good looks. The conversation had drifted from small talk to your books quickly, and you hated it. You hated when the attention turned back on you, and you hoped nothing too revealing would be said that outed your real writing to Jin.

“And the entirety of chapter 57?! Whoo! I tried some of that out with my husband, and I have no idea how Emilia did it! We only did one of the things mentioned you know, and I’ve never been more exhausted in my life!” chimes in Julia, your publisher, fanning herself with her hand.

“Emilia?” whispers Jin, leaning down to get to your ear. “The main character in one of my books, baby,” you whisper back and Jin nods, straightening up.

“Ah yes, Emilia.” He says louder. “I love her.” You bite back your grin as your publisher coos over him.

“Of course you do, who wouldn’t?! You’re such a supportive boyfriend for reading all your books!”

So far, so good. We’re safe.

“Y/n, you do write some of the best erotica I’ve ever read in my life. Where do you learn it all?” asks Marilyn, one of your sponsors, patting your arm gently.

Shit. I jinxed it. So much for hoping nobody brings it up.

Jin chokes on his drink and tries to hide it with a cough, grabbing your arm gently. “Sorry, ladies, gentlemen,” he nods at your publishing team. “I think I’m having a coughing fit. Y/n, sweetie, would you mind stepping out to get some air with me?”

You rub his back in mock sympathy. “Sure, darling. Are you okay?”

“I just think I need some air, peanut.”

You can’t help your smirk as you show him to the balcony. As soon as you get through the glass doors and they close behind you, Jin doubles over laughing. “You write erotica?! You??”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Hey! That’s mean.”

He leans against the balcony rail and tries to steady himself. “Wait wait wait… sorry, but the lady who writes best-selling erotica… hired an escort?! Oh, my god.”

You sigh and lean against the railing. “Are you done?”

He gasps for air and wipes tears out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. I’m good.” He straightens his tux and takes a deep breath. “I’m a professional.”

You roll your eyes. “You sure act like one.”

He smiles at you, but it’s not mean. “You’re easy to be around. This is a fun job. Normally I have to work with a lot more stiff old people.” He makes a face and you laugh.

You both stand in the cold air in silence for a few moments and he takes off his jacket, placing it around your shoulders.

You try to ignore the shiver that does down your spine when his fingers brush your bare arms and look down at it and pick up part of it with your fingers, trying to act like it’s no big deal.

“What is this? Special treatment? I didn’t know I got the deluxe deal! Oh me oh my!”

He scoffs. “I may be an escort, but I’m a gentleman.”

You nod. “Very gentlemanly.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

You smile. “Are you sure you won’t be cold?”

He gives you a soft smile. “What? Oh, I’m fine. I’m very warm actually. Steamy. Especially now that I know a little of Julia’s sex life.”

You laugh. “I wish conversations got better than that, but unfortunately, when you write about sex, that’s all anyone ever wants to talk about.”

He nods. “I understand that. When you’re an escort, that’s all everyone wants to talk about too.”

“Wait.. isn’t it your job to talk sex?” you giggle and he nudges you with his elbow. “Usually there’s not that much talking” he winks and you laugh.

“Okay dude, TMI.”

“TMI?! You’re the one who writes erotica! Descriptively!” he cries and you laugh again as he shakes his head.

You are both silent for a few moments before he speaks again. “Okay, but, really, what happens in Chapter 57?”

You feel your lips quirk up in a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He looks at you incredulously. “You’re going to leave me hanging?”

“Yes, you just laughed at the fact that I write erotica!”

“I was surprised!” He defends, placing his hand over his heart. “You told me you wrote cheesy romance. I feel betrayed.”

You laugh and shove him with your shoulder. “It is a cheesy romance novel…. That just happens to have a lot of smut.”

“I told you about my sex life!” he accuses and crosses his arms, pouting. “I want to know about Chapter 57.”

God, he’s cute when he pouts.

You shrug off his jacket and hand it back to him as you walk away, smirking over your shoulder.

“Then you can buy it online or at a bookstore. It’s called Wildcard. I’ve heard it’s quite popular.” You open the door and gesture him to move. “Now come on, I think you’ve recovered from your choking hazard and I have more people I have to talk to.”

He puts his jacket back on and follows you back out into the decorated ballroom, mumbling about being left on a cliffhanger and what the frick was Chapter 57 and how you’re so mean to him, really princess, you can’t give your favorite escort a brief rundown?

You ignore him and link your arm through his again as you wade back into the room, getting called over almost immediately by your editor, who wants you to meet some more people.

At the end of the night, you take him to a secluded hallway in the hotel and pull the money out of your purse, watching him count it as you rub your arm nervously.

“Hey,” you say, and he looks up, raising an eyebrow. “I just, wanted to say, thanks… for saving my ass in there… you really did me a solid by being my date tonight.” You laugh and look away, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Well… you did hire me…” he trails off, tucking the cash into his coat pocket.

You blush. “I know, but still… thanks. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.”

You flick your eyes to his briefly and he looks around the hall before striding forward and cupping the back of your neck, kissing you.

You gasp in surprise and he easily slips his tongue in. You find yourself clutching at the lapels of his coat as he deepens the kiss, his other hand sliding up the side of your thigh, under your dress.

You pull back and look at him wide-eyed as he slides his hand up towards your panties. “Jin?”

He smirks and continues to slide his hand slowly up. “You overpaid. I thought you didn’t want me all night?”

You feel your cheeks redden, but your gaze can’t leave his face. “I-I just tipped you.”

He licked his lips and pressed them back to yours before kissing his way down your jaw. “I think you wanted a little…taste, baby” he whispered huskily as he nips at your neck.

I should turn away. I should push him off. It was just a tip… but OH what did he just do to my neck?? god, do it again..

You moan softly as he works his way down your neck and cups you through your panties. Your heart pounds against your chest as you choose to ignore your logical mind and do something you’ve never done before…

Oh, what the hell.

…just let it happen.

You spread your legs a little further for him and moan in his ear as he begins to rub you through your panties.

“So wet for me? Already? And here I thought you just hired me as pretty eye candy,” he grins against your neck as you grab his hair, tugging his mouth back to yours, desperate for something, anything.

He slides his fingers under the side of your panties and you bite his lip when he teases his fingers up and down your folds, sliding against your slick.

“Ooo, you’re a feisty one, I see,” he smirks and nips your mouth right back, sliding his fingers slowly against you.

You had never been this turned on in your life, despite having past boyfriends who had tried and a few hookups… but none of them had ever felt this good. Had made you feel this good.

“Jin,” you moan, bucking your hips into his hand. “More.”

“As you wish ma ’lady” he nips harshly at your neck and you yelp, but he quickly lavishes over it with his tongue, soothing as his finger drags your slick to your clitoris and he begins to circle it slowly.

The back of your head hits the hallway wall, exposing more of your neck to Jin’s lips as you have to bite your own hand to stifle your moans when he slips a finger inside you.

He moans against your neck and pulls away from it with a pop, resting his forehead against your own.

“God, y/n, you’re so tight,” he whispers, pumping his finger in and out of you and then adding a second.

You buck your hips against his hand and he beings to curl his fingers up, grazing your sweet spot so deliciously as he begins to make out with you again to soften your moans.

He works you like this for a little while and you start keening, panting his name into his mouth while your hands clutch at his hair and shoulders to keep your balance standing up.

It’s all so much, too much, for someone who hasn’t been touched like this in years, and you find yourself burying your face into his chest when he presses his thumb to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and you come hard over his fingers, moaning his name.

He works you through your orgasm and as you come down you blush red again, realizing that you just let an escort, that you paid for, get you off in a back hotel hallway.

You hide in his shirt a few moments longer, trying to breathe until he gently pushes you off his chest and slides his fingers out from your underwear. You pull back, your hands still on his shoulders and he smirks seductively as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, making you blush harder.

He then shoves that hand in his pocket and backs away from you, giving you a two-fingered salute with his other hand.

“See you around, y/n. That was fun.”

He winks and turns, strolling out of the hotel doors, leaving you open-mouthed, panting, and wondering why that had been the best orgasm you’d ever had.

Part 2

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jeanstoppable · 4 years

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20th & 21st OF OCTOBER

~change the channel~ (substitute)

~island in the sun~

(A/N: I cannot, for the life of me, make these prompts shorter. But anyways, here’s some more of my Cyberpunk oc and a bit of world building)

WARNING: Mentions of Drug Use/Dark themes

The door shut with a soft click, the metal barrier cancelling out the harsh and turbulent noise of the downpour outside, as a clear ping pierced the silence of the room, signalling the automatic lock being completed.

I tossed the drenched sling bag somewhere on the floor, hearing it land but not bothering to check where, and started peeling the equally wet jacket off my torso, leaving me in a sleeveless black top.

I should take a shower first. I thought. But my legs didn’t move towards the bathroom to my far right, instead my eyes were fixated on the desk beside my bed, and then gradually brought them up on the old painting displayed right above it.

Later. This can’t wait. Heart and mind decided, I shuffled over to the desk in a sense of urgency, grabbed the painting by its sides and then plucked it from the hook. Flipping the frame around, a black plate covered the back of the canvas. With familiar ease, I slid my fingers across the upper corner edges and found the latch, successfully unfastening the plate to unveil a couple of worn-out journals hidden inside. Untouched.

A breath of relief escaped me, my fear of the notebooks being discovered momentarily disappearing.

I picked out the one I’ve been using as of late—the tenth one if I recall correctly, since I’ve already used up every bit of space from the others—and opened the journal where it had a bookmark.

The yellowed blank pages were a frequent sight as I ran a hand across the smooth surface while my other hand pulled a pen from a cup that was also holding a heap of markers and then started writing my thoughts—

It was a common enough phrase.

“CHANGE THE CHANNEL”

It doesn’t pique interest, at least to...someone like me, so it shouldn’t raise any suspicions, right?

I hovered the nib of the pen slightly above the paper, thinking if I should continue to write about the news we’ve received today. It was shocking enough that I even had to pinch myself a couple of times to see if I was dreaming or not because the news wasn’t just good nor great---it was the best fucking thing I’ve heard in years and it also just happens to be the one we’ve all been waiting for.

Setting down the pen, I reached for the hidden compartment again, took the very first journal I owned and then absently flipped through the filled pages, the crisp, crinkling sounds tenderly jogging my memory.

I stopped at the beginning of the notebook, a reminiscing smile graced my lips as I traced the old ink with the tip of a finger.

Don’t let anyone steal this.

I snorted, of course, this was written on the day I got my ass beat and left without so much of a coin in my pocket—thus, I was forced to resort to stealing. Strangely enough, this journal was the first thing I stole and to this day, I can’t seem to remember the reason why but I do remember how awful the act made me feel, the feeling lasted for days.

Nonetheless, those feelings subsided after getting accustomed to this lifestyle. Crime practically lived and breathed under my skin, these hands and feet of mine becoming my very own accomplices.

I closed my eyes as the usual barrage of emotions washed over me: disappointment, disgust, anger, hate—so much hate and all of it was directed at the only person I can blame at the moment.

Well to be fair, not once did I deny the indisputable fact that I hated how my life turned out, how everything turned out considering that there’s no one even left to impress, no one to see me pretend as if I wasn’t so horribly broken-down on the inside.

I hated how I was still here, anchored by some self-righteous bullshit I’d placed like a burden on my shoulders that one miserable night, a burden that still stubbornly carries the promise of changing the lives of so many other people.

My gaze landed on the scribbled date at the top of the page.

It’s been 6 years since the incident.

I breathed out my nose unevenly and closed the book with a snap, pushing it aside as I returned to the previous journal and picked up the pen to finish today’s log.

It’s happening.. It’s finally happening.

Today marks the fucking day of something revolutionary as we received reports, genuine physical reports, of a planned coup in all of five districts. And I know there had been a lot of them in the past and those who participated lost their lives after being executed on the spot… However, this time around, my gut tells me otherwise.

I think I mentioned this in my previous logs; it’s about the power balance shifting. It began to tip since last year and it hasn’t stopped till now. I fiercely believe that the power will eventually find its way back to us, as it rightfully should.

This was a long time coming after all. Years and years of effort had been put in just to dethrone those who forcefully robbed us of our lives and not just that---Our identities.. Our Family and friends. The voice itself of the public.

Letting out a tortured laugh, I wrote the end of the log:

CHANGE THE CHANNEL

Simple, dismissive and yet it holds the power of treason. It speaks the word of rebellion. I’m not afraid anymore because this phrase will take us one step closer to freedom.

. . .

“...Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Positive.”

I cast my partner a skeptical glance.

“...I’m 80% sure.” He nervously admitted, purposely avoiding my prodding eyes.

A huff of disbelief slipped past my lips as I demanded from him, “What did the message say anyway?”

“It was a recorded message programmed inside a toy, it only said the time and the address before self-destructing. But like I said, I don’t think I got any of the information wrong.”

“Maybe you misheard or missed something because this—”

I swallowed the sentence and did another scan of the building in front of us, our position from an empty terrace across the street granting us to overlook the supposed meeting place, the rendezvous as it turns out was a grand and luxurious night club.

It seemed that access was only given to those in the upper class but since it was fairly new and as far as rumors go, I heard it has an eccentricity to it, so the club wasn’t bustling like the other similar establishments scattered in the district. Still, entry to the venue remains as a privilege only to those who can afford to waste money, in this economy.

I eyed the flashy neon sign just above the main doors with slight distaste and a growing curiosity.

Island in the Sun

The name certainly snatches attention.

After seeing a bunch of people dressed in stylish clothes walk out, I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling a tiny bit insecure about what I’m wearing.

Hell, nothing about my attire was fancy by any means so I shot my partner another worried glance, “Do we really have no further means of communication with them? Do we really have to enter through the front? Can’t we just, you know, sneak inside a window? I mean, we don’t—we’re not—”

I gestured to his clothes and then mine, “We’ll stick out like sore fucking thumbs.”

“You do make a sound point.” He murmured and then lowered his goggles to finally address me, his grey orbs illuminated by the numerous bright neon signs, “I never expected our sponsor to be this...shameless? They’re practically waving their wealth in our faces, makes me wanna take a swipe at them.”

“Arman,” I quietly sighed, “What are we getting ourselves into?”

Is this what having cold feet feels like?

My partner surveyed me for a instant before having the nerve to roll his eyes, “Just treat this as one of our regular heists, Sonya. Aren’t you the least excited to experience what it’s like partying with the upper class?”

I stayed silent, not bothering to tell him that I did have prior experience, and just rubbed my temples, a headache forming at the prospect of how tonight will go.

“Time for a channel change.” My partner winked, his wise words partnered with the small gesture cracked my lips into a smile.

He then put a hand under his chin, thinking carefully as he relayed more of his thoughts, “And maybe get laid by the end of the night.” This time, I was the one to roll my eyes and got a glower from him in exchange.

“You could use it as well… When’s the last time you—”

“Shut the fuck up, Arman.” I tried snapping back but it turned into a laugh instead.

He only grinned toothily, looking guilty but proud, “Less nervous?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Wait.” He said all of a sudden.

I raised a brow in question, my hands already gripping onto the rails, poised to scale down at any moment.

“Clothes.” Arman waved a hand and I grimaced.

“Ah yeah, right.”

A terse silence passed before we both launched smirks at each other, the same heinous idea forming in our minds as he pointed towards a closed clothing shop a few blocks away.

“What say you for one more heist this evening? It won’t be as grandiose as the previous ones, I’m afraid.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

. . .

Your ass looks nice in that.

Yeah? I’m taking this one then.

...Well?

Your ass always looks great, Arman.

So you’re saying mine looks better? Thanks.

Wear a skirt and then we’ll talk.

Oh, Sonya, just watch and learn.

. . .

I leaned against a street light, scrutinising our target club while waiting for my partner to finish finding the ‘perfect outfit’ as he called it, his words not mine. In the end, I settled for a wine coloured fitted dress with a criss-cross pattern exposing my back, a black corset on top, a semi transparent blazer for my shoulders, and then I picked out simple knee length combat boots—in case the deal goes awry and we had to flee.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I peeked over and my jaw dropped as soon as I laid eyes on Arman.

He was wearing a skin tight turtleneck black dress, showing off his lean but toned figure, a beautiful velvet burgundy blazer that looked amazing on his broad shoulders and then his shoes were thick polished combat boots, almost same as mine, the only difference was his heels were an inch higher, making him look taller than he normally is.

I whistled in pure awe, “Damn, Island in the Sun is about to get a whole lot hotter.”

A smug expression graced his handsome features when he walked past me, swaying his ass deliberately, “Told you so,”

I huffed at his haughty but rightfully placed attitude and caught up to him, looping an arm around his, “Well, won’t you tell me—am I your designated arm candy or are you mine?”

“Why can’t we just be both?”

We toned down the volume of our conversation when we neared the establishment, Arman breaking off as he walked up to the main entrance. It was as we expected, one of the large bouncers blocked him immediately and then pointed to the side towards the long line of people waiting for their own turn.

Arman straightened his shoulders and crossed his arms, “We have an appointment with your employer.”

The bouncer examined my partner from head to toe, not looking the least convinced although the second after, he pressed a button on his collar, “Can you direct me to the boss’ line?”

“Hey!” A voice shouted off to the side where the line was, “Wait in line like the rest of—”

I whirled on whoever was speaking and gave them my most vicious glare, that person stopped in the middle of their sentence and then promptly averted their eyes. I scoffed at them.

“Boss, there’s two individuals here that say they have an appointment with you.” The bouncer said, nodding while listening to his receiver and then finally turned back to Arman, “I apologise but the boss doesn’t have any more appointments for tonight.”

Arman took this information calmly and then leaned in, a hand covering his lips as he whispered something to the bouncer, keeping his voice as quiet as possible.

The bouncer’s eyes widened, stared at Arnan and me before ultimately stepping aside, handing us two glowing yellow bracelets, “I’m sorry for the delay, the boss is expecting you.”

My partner brightened and accepted the bracelets, holding me by my wrist as he ushered us past the main entrance. Still confused about the whole ordeal, I reluctantly put on the accessory without saying a word, the bracelet giving a weird sting when it made contact with my skin, and then followed Arman inside.

“What was that?” I asked the moment we’re left alone.

“Did you forget why we’re here?” He quipped back cheerfully and the realisation struck me later than I would have liked.

“...What do you think this is for?” I changed the subject to both our glowing bracelets, raising mine to my eye level just to get a good look at it.

“I don’t know. Gimmicks?” Arman absently rubbed his, faintly knotting his eyebrows and then started inspecting the empty hallway we were walking through, “For a club named Island in the Sun, it doesn’t seem very hot.”

We reached the end of the hallway and the doors opened upon sensing us, revealing another set of corridors, three to be exact that split into different directions: There was muffled music coming from our right, while there’s really faint sounds of people chattering to the left, and then nothing from the one ahead of us.

I took a step towards the middle corridor, figuring it was where we needed to go but Arman blocked an arm in my way, “Don’t you want to check out the other rooms? We might as well explore before we get kicked out after our appointment.”

My expression definitely disapproved of the idea and he could see that, although I think I might’ve surprised him when I agreed to his request, “No more than five minutes.”

His grey orbs gleamed with excitement, “I’ll go this way,” he pointed to the right, “Take the left.” With that said, Arman pivoted and headed for the direction with the music, and I walked towards the left corridor.

The doors were glass so I’d seen what was inside while waiting for them to open.

I scrunched my brows in bewilderment at what awaited me. The room was massive so to say and furthermore, it has a second floor filled with—What were those? There were these weird opaque bubbles that had a hatch on the front with a keypad beside it and almost all of them were lit, vague silhouettes of people moving to and fro inside but nothing more than that.

My eyes landed on the pit with a glass dome in the centre, a couple of people were lounging on long circular couches whilst socialising with each other. I was so focused on the bizarre scene that I didn’t notice the doors sliding open and the cyborg standing off to the side, making me almost jump when it had announced itself.

WELCOME. WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

“I---uh, what...does that mean exactly?” I awkwardly rubbed my nape, feeling the need to occupy my shaking hands as I peered up at the cyborg.

WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DEMONSTRATE HOW OUR ISLANDS WORK?

I simply nodded and the cyborg’s eyes immediately flashed bright, projecting a hologram into the empty space between us, leaving me to watch in wonder as a 3D model of one of the bubbles appeared.

ESSENTIALLY, OUR SPHERICAL ISLANDS ARE DESIGNED TO SERVE AS ADVANCED PRIVATE SUITS FOR SPECIAL CUSTOMERS. ITS CURVED WALLS ARE BUILT-IN WITH HIGH POWERED LED SCREENS THAT LETS YOU PROJECT ANY KIND OF SCENERY YOU’D PREFER AND IT’S ALSO COMPLETE WITH FURNITURE THAT CAN SATISFY TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOUR NEEDS.

The holograms changed and now it showed one of those glowing bracelets.

WHILE YOU’RE INSIDE THE CLUB, WE WILL ALSO EXCLUSIVELY PROVIDE YOU WITH OUR CLUB’S HOTTEST PRODUCT TO MAKE YOUR NIGHT BETTER AND MORE ENJOYABLE.

I frowned, asking warily, “Product?”

I’M PROHIBITED TO EXPLAIN ANY FURTHER DETAILS OF THE PRODUCT. HOWEVER, YOU CAN FIND OUT FOR YOURSELF THROUGH ONE OF OUR ISLANDS, THE PIT, OR IN THE PARTY ROOM.

Something cold settled in my stomach, “The party room...it’s the room opposite this one , right?”

CORRECT. NOW, THAT YOU ARE AWARE OF OUR CLUB’S COMMODITIES, WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCURE AN ISLAND?

I shook my head, about to refuse the offer when a question crossed my mind, “...How much is one island?”

The cyborg turned off the projection and turned its gaze downwards, scanning my bracelet through its lens.

NO PAYMENT NEEDED FOR VIP CUSTOMERS.

“VIP...?” My throat dried up as I covered the bracelet on my wrist with a hand, “I...won’t be taking an island, thank you.” The cyborg merely bowed and then went back to its corner, waiting for someone new to serve.

“Shit, I have a bad feeling about this.” I said to myself, returning to the intersection from before and making my way towards the party room.

The moment the doors slid open, the music hit me and my eardrums in full blast. I winced at the intensity of it and more so at the large crowd dancing and grooving to the loud beat. It was difficult to even hear my own voice. I internally groaned, how am I supposed to find him at this rate?

Keeping my eyes sharp despite it being extremely dark and the occasional blinding strobe lights, I moved through the mob of people pressed against one another, awkwardly bumping into some people dancing and then sometimes getting pushed back. I bit my lip, refraining from picking a fight as I held on to my rapidly waning patience.

All of a sudden, someone slapped a hand to my ass and the leash briefly snapped—I quickly rounded on that person, a fist almost flying out when I saw that the hand belonged to a man a couple of inches shorter than me with a greasy sneer on his face.

“Do that again...” I fisted his shirt and followed with a violent promise, “And you’ll go home left-handed.” I threatened, my voice brimming with spite.

Once I saw the frightened understanding in his eyes, I released him and turned away. “Arman, you better show yourself right now.” I growled.

Finally, I spotted a familiar burgundy jacket behind a pillar and I set my sights on it, carelessly pushing my way through, ignoring the curses and rude remarks of the people I shoved because I have had enough of this.

I shouldn’t have to search for him.

As I got closer to the pillar, I only noticed then that he was making out with someone. Oh you’re dead. My fingers shot out to grab the shoulder of the man I’ve been searching for, ready to cuss at him till his ears fall off.

“Oi! What the fuck happened to five minutes?!”

I halted as I met face to face with a stranger, and not at all my partner, “A-ah, I’m sorry I thought you were—“ My eyes flicked towards the person standing beside them.

“Arman!” I shouted, obviously relieved to see him alright but then remembered I was still pissed off, “What the hell? I was looking all over for you!”

His eyebrows creased for a moment before a loopy smile graced his lips, “Sonya! I’m sorry, I got a bit distracted…” Arman’s gaze trailed off to the side but at the same time, he gripped the waist of the man he kissed earlier closer to his body.

I gawked at him. Honestly speechless. But then I lashed out a hand to circle around his wrist, the one with that damned bracelet, and discovered that the yellow glow was at half now.

This was their exclusive product.

I fumed as I took out a spare light from the pocket of my blazer and yanked his head down to my level, “Let me see your fucking eyes.”

I shined the light on them and noticed how bloodshot they were, his pupils were unusually blown wide. I cursed again, letting out my frustrations, “Arman, you’re blazed!”

“What?! No, no, no. I-I haven’t taken any.” He stumbled over his words, making me doubt him even more.

“Excuse me.” A new voice piped in.

I flipped my attention to Arman’s...date? Lover? Who the hell cares, I completely forgot he was even there, “Aren’t you being a bit rude? Who are you anyways?” The man asked snobbishly while squinting at me.

I glared back, a dangerous smile framing my painted lips, “I’m his girlfriend. Who are you?”

“Sonya!” Arman yelled in disbelief.

The man mouth hung open and then tried explaining himself, “I-I’m—“

I held up a finger, “You know what, I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Locking an arm around Arman’s, I pulled him away from the man and roughly dragged him across the dance floor and towards the exit.

Once we got back to the main hallway, I let him go and stared him down with my arms placed on my hips, “What was that, Arman?” I gritted out, trying to be as calm as I can without blowing a fuse.

“Give me a minute.” He panted, “It’s so damn hot, ugh.”

“What are you saying, you’ve only been in there for less than twenty minutes.” I looked at him confused but then clearly saw the heavy perspiration forming on his skin, “Hey...you’re sweating really bad.”

“I’m sorry, Sonya.” He apologised, breathing large gulps of air while leaning on the wall, “I’m sorry you had to cover for me back there.”

My gaze softened as I stood beside him, “It’s nothing…”

“I know I really screwed up for not being careful, but I swear—Sonya, I swear I didn’t take any drugs.” Arman gripped my arms, looking me wildly in the eyes.

“Don’t worry..I believe you.” I assured him, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “It might’ve been that stuck-up date of yours, did you notice him touch your bracelet while you were together?”

He opened his mouth and then clamped it shut, a deeply disturbed expression slowly contorted his features, “Yeah...Yeah, he did.”

I let out a rough exhale, controlling the rage that sweeped me off, now twice as strong, “If I ever see that fucker—“

A hand on my shoulder pulled my attention back as I faced Arman, letting him see the murderous expression on my features.

“The appointment.” He reminded me softly.

“...Right…right. Are you sure you’re okay now?”

He pushed off the wall and gave me a tiny smile that broke my heart.

“...You know, you’re giving Tilly a run for her money—I mean, showing up to a sponsor’s meeting high? Not even she has the balls to do that.”

Arman chuckled, a dark look passing his expression as he bitterly said, “I bet that they’re expecting us to attend already intoxicated.”

I hummed in agreement, “So, our first sponsor’s a drug enthusiast, huh?”

“Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

TBC

(A/N: I WAS SUPPOSED TO INCLUDE MEETING THE BOSS BUT ITS TOO LONG wowowow, these prompts are now integrated into my story, I swear I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this—but ANYWAYS. I’m kinda living for this unhinged oc of mine, and this duo?? I had so much fun writing about theit dynamic. However sad to say, this will be the last of them for now... as it goes, i must move on to other ignored ocs PEACEEE)

#alkinktober #inktober prompt #myoc #mywriting #cyberpunk oc #cyberpunk #cyberpunk fic #THIS WAS #SO MUCH FUN??#I am also loving this duo

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thebiscuiteternal · 5 years

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Ahkay, time for the other half of the studio scene. For those of you interested, this timeline is now known as the “bug duo au”, though if I ever collect it into a proper fic, it’ll have a more proper name.

---

Soft instrumental music played from speakers tucked under one of the mirrors. Some kind of new agey stuff that Jan -Jan!- had said she kept around for the models or work crunch days.

It was nice.

And so were the peanut butter cookies dipped in chocolate that Tikki was happily scarfing from her new spot inside Marinette’s backpack.

“Hey, share those!” Marinette hissed low enough not to be heard over the music.

“You already had three.”

“And you’ve had five! Share!”

“Mrowr.”

Marinette and Tikki both froze at the realization that Maggie was intently watching them from the back of the couch. Marinette carefully pulled out one of the cat’s treats from the bag and held it up. “You saw nothing,” she said, then threw it. Once the cat had jumped to chase the snack, she sighed and laid back against the armrest.

She’d already finished half her homework, or at least half of what she knew she had. She’d have to talk to Alya later about whatever she’d missed. She grabbed the bottle she’d been drinking out of -some kind of really good vanilla soda with a label she couldn’t read- and swigged the last of it before getting up to throw the bottle away.

“How come you’re in Paris? Are you moving here?”

The questions came without her meaning for them to, and she flushed and covered her mouth. At Jan’s laugh, however, the tension eased.

“Oh, that would give Sophie and Greer both heart attacks,” Jan said with a grin, twirling her pen and tucking it behind her ear. “No, I was asked to be one of the international judges for the competition Cheshire is sponsoring. I figured I’d just arrive a few weeks early and make a working vacation of it.”

“Oh.” Marinette tossed the bottle in the recycle and then scowled. “Wow, now it’s really not fair I couldn’t compete.”

“Hm?” Janet asked, and Marinette’s face turned even redder at the realization she’d said that out loud.

Well.

Too late to take it back now.

Marinette awkwardly scratched the back of her neck as she turned back towards the couch. “I tried to apply for the competition, but I was five months short of the cutoff age.”

“That so?” The click of the woman’s shoes on the wood floor made her lift her head, and Jan was approaching with a casual stroll and an encouraging smile. “Got anything with you?”

Marinette swallowed hard, then felt something gently bump her hand. Looking down, she found Tikki holding her sketchbook from inside her backpack and beaming.

Okay.

Deep breath, exhale, then she pulled the sketchbook out of her bag.

Jan accepted it as gently as if it were an actual portfolio, then sank onto the couch and patted the empty spot next to her. “Relax, kiddo,” she said when Marinette stiffly sat down. “No pressure.”

“No pressure,” Marinette managed to repeat in a strangled voice.

“I mean it. Breathe.”

Deep breath, exhale, and she settled deeper into the cushions, drawing her knees up to her chest in a comfortable curl. “Okay,” she said, and Jan took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze before starting to page through the drawings.

“Good grasp of color and form... You pay attention to the shapes of your intended models, good girl.”

“Is that weird?”

“You’d be amazed how many designers treat their work as something to be displayed on a hanger instead of a body. This is good stuff... Hm. These two pages,” Janet said, letting go of her hand to hold up the sketchbook. “They’re quite a bit different than the rest.”

“Oh. I was... I was trying to impress someone,” Marinette said, not sure whether or not she should say whom the someone was.

“Do you like them?”

“Huh?”

“These pieces. Do you like them? I promise, there’s no wrong answer.”

“Well...” Marinette bit her lip, remembering the sheer amount of stress that had gone with the work in question. “Honestly... not really.”

“And I’ll tell you why. There are two kinds of critics in the design world. Those who genuinely love it, seek out new things, and encourage innovation, and those who use their status to force everyone to cater to their particular tastes. With the first, you get this-” she said, flipping a few pages of Marinette’s beloved designs. “With the latter, you get this,” she continued, going back to the greys and muted blues that had plagued her for weeks.

“So... how do I deal with it when I’m actually out in the design world?” Marinette asked. “I mean, the good critics are picky too, right?”

“True. So I’m going to give you just a little bit of homework, and whether you want to actually do it or not is entirely up to you. I want you to pick some well-known critics, but don’t read their reviews or articles. Instead, I want you to look at the designers they’ve critiqued, before and after. Then I want you to think about which ones you can tell actually have your interests in mind and whether it’s worth indulging those that don’t.”

Jan handed her the sketchbook, and Marinette clutched it to her chest.

“Do I have to turn anything back in to you?”

“Nope. This is completely advisory, so what you do with it is entirely up to you.” Jan pushed herself to her feet, then pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Though you might want to eat dinner first,” she added.

“Dinner?” Marinette dug out her own phone, then squeaked. “Dinner! I gotta go!” She practically threw her books back in her bag, barely managing to not squish Tikki, then bolted for the door, only to grab the doorframe. “Uh, thanks! I mean nice to meet you! I mean-”

“You’re welcome, and feel free to come back any time,” Jan replied with a wave.

Marinette took the stairs two at a time and nearly ended up tumbling down the last few before she managed to regain her balance by grabbing the rail. But didn’t regain her balance fast enough to avoid colliding with someone coming up.

“Goodness, child! Those stairs are crooked enough without bodies falling down them,” Sophie said as she steadied her.

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was,” Marinette said, shifting her backpack. “Um- Actually, before I go, though, can I ask you something?”

“Certainly.”

Marinette pulled out the business card she still had. “It’s been bugging me since I got here, but how did you know to let me in? Anybody could have one of these, right?”

“Oh, not at all.”

“Huh?”

Sophie adjusted her heavy glasses. “Ms. van Dyne has two cards. One for meetings and potential clients, and one for those who need them. You have the latter.”

"Need...?" Marinette stared down at the card.

“If you need a place to hide from bad days-”

Oh.

“Are you alright, dear?” Sophie asked. “I could-”

Marinette gave her a bright smile. “I’m great!” she said, then hopped off the last step, a light giddy feeling propelling her out the door almost at a float. Once she’d made it down to the sidewalk, she inhaled sharply and held the card up before her eyes.

A simple little card. A card she could use any time she wanted. A card that brought her a safe place and and peace of mind and... dare she even think, a mentor.

Deep breath, exhale.

“Everything okay?” Tikki asked from her bag.

“Everything’s perfect,” Marinette replied, stuffing the card in her pocket and beginning the jog home.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette cheng #janet van dyne #ladybug #wasp #the wasp #bug duo au #fanfic

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twyt-podcast-blog · 5 years

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❝tea with yours truly❞

—grab your cups and let me serve you some hot pipping tea.

today’s episode: the mgas.

unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know what time it is. it’s been five seasons now. it’s the freaking mgas. mnet global auditions that never feel global but who cares? am i late to start talking about it? no. why did i decide to wait? because, i’m over it. i’m over survival shows. i’m over having a heartbreak and being an emotional wreck when my faves are eliminated. that’s why i decided to wait and to stalk. lol. i binged watched freaking four episodes of it. even then, i did not miss the entire season. i was a bit impatient. everyone’s talking about it. everyone’s balls and ovaries are bursting left and right. my bad, if you thought that this podcast is suited for work, you’re listening to the wrong podcast.

before anything, i just want to say that i’ve caught myself listening to luxe’s every night. it was really a good song. y’know, royal, trc, sphere, kt and...nova...are going to recruit new trainees for their companies, but what about the groups that they already have? see, royal’s luxe haven’t been around since march. their main rivals are still fresh in the memory. i’m talking about trc’s k.arma and kt’s eclipse. eclipse even got a summer comeback. the best time to come back honestly with all the festivals. sphere’s convex came back in april. that’s not too long ago. then, you have nova ( /sighs;) i guess that nova is in need of trainees so that they can one day debut something. anything. didn’t i ever tell you guys that, as a little child, was obsessed with jewelry. i didn’t have their talent though.

anyways without further ado, here’s my opinion, as if anyone really cares about it honestly, about the first four episodes of the mgas. i got my notes. it’s all opinions. my opinions. yes, i’ll be biased; however, i expect y’all to bother to check the episodes and performances to make your own opinions and faves.

oh, i almost forgot, today’s drink is starbucks’s matcha frappucino. it’s summer. we drink our tea cold, but doesn’t mean that what we are spitting isn’t pippin’ hot.

episode one started with a nice little shot of the places where the auditions were taking place. cute. there’s a lot of hopefuls. then, we get to see the ceos that we love so much ( /chuckles;) then, they do some lowkey scripted chitchat. you know “oh, it’s a new season again” “i know right.” “i can’t wait to meet the contestants and sign trainees who will probably never get the chance to debut” lol. speaking of contestants, there are 100 people. let me tell you who caught my attention. first, there’s this one named kim seungmin? seunghun? legit, he was imitating animals. like, top pick of the episode. yes, i’m weird like that. to be honest, the entire episode, the ceos were savage. but, i don’t blame them, because sweeties it’s freaking season 5 so you’re supposed to bring it. period. you’ve seen the show at least once, you should know. lot’s singing, dancing, rapping. y’know. it’s what you expect. by the way, an ex-member of convex freaking showed up. i was shook. like, i remember that there were redemption stories since mga season 1. but, it was usually former contestants given a second chance or trainees. a freaking ex-member. it’s freaking romeo under a new alias? i mean you guys know the rumors...but he left allegedly for personal reasons. i have the highest of expectations on him. like, i feel for his fans from back when the season two of the mgas happened. the rollercoaster ride of emotions. i feel for y’all. i’m not gonna lie to y’all. the first episode...i mean...i’m binge watching so i didn’t really take the time to really find my top picks.

let’s move on to the next episode.

episode two: the way episode two started was weird. i mean i can’t be the only who watch that little moment involving...let check my notebook for the names..ah yes, choi yena, wang jackson and son hyejoo. it’s been five seasons... doesn’t the mgas have the budget for seats for all the contestants? as for the skinship moment, y’all know that the fans are out there being like “i ship hyena or yejoo”. anyways. moving on. episode two is, in a nutshell, more singing. more dancing, more rapping. it’s also leads to the first round of eliminations. as i mentioned before, i’m not here for the heartbreak. i know that through binge-watching, i’m not getting emotionally attached to nobody. i’ll cry moving forwards from episode four and onwards. rappers who come up and perform their own stuff. i support you. i kinda expect rappers to be able to pen and to have the courage to take the stage with their own work. does that discredit the other rappers? no, i just happen to love the creative rappers and we all know tiger jk love them too. over the years, the rappers with creative genius had more chances to land in trc. it’s just how it is. so, yeah, choi yoona caught my attention. the whistling rapper, na jaemin too. i like him. recycle boy, hwang minhyun seems to have left an impression because they replayed his clip. oh, and, see, the girl hyejoo who had a moment in the beginning of the episode had another highlight moment. she switched from dancer to rapper and promoted a self-made song. should i make her a top pick? i mean she fits what i like. maybe, if she’s still around in episode four. i’m just gonna say one thing...that guy...park jinyoung. yes. biased? maybe. i mean give me a man with a guitar and that voice. mhm. so, at the end of the episode, they go through the elimination. they also reveal the top three for each category. who am i not surprised for? freakin’ minho.

up to this point, the people i got my eyes on are still alive. there are two episodes left tho. like i said, i didn’t dive into everything. i’m playing catch up. on top of that, i had to have my eyes on my picks. anyways.

i’m taking this moment to take refresher but also talk about our sponsor. so, we are sponsored by this lovely game reminiscent of that one otome mobile game that destroyed our sleeping patterns. if i love you is nice f2p game where you decide to use a dating app. you will be texting, chatting, going on dates and receiving phone calls from waifu or husbando. the upside is that you don’t have to set alarms and to miss on work or school. now back to the mgas.

episode three: so, isn’t just me or interviews are meh. i mean maybe it’s because i just want to reach episode four as quickly as possible so that i can get into the social media aspect, but, some of these interviews...chile. y’all sound so cocky and cocky isn't cute. i could also blame the editing, because it’s mnet. you can’t expect a snake to be nice. it’s the duo performances. man, it’s a staple since the first mgas. i am watching and i’m loving every single second that i am given. the groups overall are really strong. i already brought up names and they didn’t disappoint me. i’m not going to go to deeply on episode three, because episode four is right down in the corner. i kam already seeing myself getting attached, but i can’t deal with a double heartbreak back to back. i need to calm down. i am betting after watching this top 3 that minho is simply gonna ride smoothly. he was in the top in season 2. he bet it’s gonna be the same for season 3. like, everything he did was great. it’s like everything he touches turns to gold. also, two of my picks were eliminated. i’m talking about jinyoung and yoona. see, i should have waited until i reach episode four before i freaking choose the people i’m rooting for. anyways.

all this binge-watching without a chance to really watch highlights on naver as led to the last episode to have aired.

episode four: my children, we made it. all caught up. it’s essentially the second round of the duo performances. they were nice. i want to say that i feel genuinely bad for the contestant lee nakyung. so, first, the ceos commented on how she had been throwing away her jacket every performances. i got to admit that you can’t use the same trick over and over and over again. then, they said that she had better chemistry with minho? that was sad. the way it was edited it pretty much gave the vibe that nakyung is nothing without minho. he was the partner. i feel like everyone who will partner with minho, who’s a vet, might get similar backlash that minho is their saving grace. the girl’s talented. mnet, i know that the comment was about her lack of chemistry with her new partner, but your editing really sucked. sorry, i had a lot of feelings about this above all. anyways, like the hopefuls are very good this season. like, i see no holes. at the end of the day. it is still a competition. then, my friends, they panned on two empty seats. so they brought back the people who were eliminated, bitch. my eliminated faves were separated, but, y’know what, i’m okay. also, i’m sorry that wang jackson was not on list, but then, he did that with park jinyoung. they did that. also, i didn’t give ryujin or sia the attention they deserved. i had to go back and watch their performance to understand why they were top three. ladies, yes. yes. YES. i hope i conveyed my opinion well. minho, again, top three. no surprise there. so, back to the returning kings. they are my picks. y’all know that i’m jinyoung biased at the moment. i got other people on my radar. i’m sad that hyejoo was eliminated. was rooting for her. nakyung, i’m gonna shield her and protect her from harm. i will fight. now, i can finally get into it. maybe some of you were expecting your names to be shouted out. moving forward with episode five, i will be able to really go in-depth with the performances and the people. i also get to check their social media and to see what kind of people they are.

#[ ooc: hwasa’s twit chorus plays. it's a nod to the show's acronym: twyt ]#.twytpod #rkmga5

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putthison · 7 years

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Put This On’s 2017 Holiday Gift Guide

Tis the season for fretting over what to get the people. To help with the endeavor, every year, we write about our most recent favorites. So, coming just in time for the holiday season, here’s our 2017 gift guide -- things that would be awesome for anyone in your life.

Before we get started though, we’d love it if you’d check out stuff from our beloved sponsors. The Hanger Project has some wonderful shoe care products; Proper Cloth sell cozy knitwear (probably hard to gift their MTM shirts without your friend knowing); and Chipp’s grenadines are among the most useful ties anyone can own. Dapper Classic’s socks make for nice stocking stuffers; Huckberry has things for the outdoorsman; and Twillory has both whimsical and basic button-ups.

Additionally, we have some wonderful gift suggestions in our shop, organized by various price tiers. Throw this corner kick charm on a chain and you have a necklace, or give that clotheshorse in your life this Duke of Windsor themed shoehorn. Our Gentlemen’s Association subscriptions could also be that year-round gift that keeps on giving -- a handrolled and handsewn pocket square, made from fabrics picked out by Jesse, delivered to your friend’s doorstep every month.

OK, to the gifts!

Muth's Mudjeskas

I grew up in San Francisco, eating special occasion candy from See's and Joseph Schmidt's Chocolates. A few years ago, a gift guide from Sweethome turned me on to Muth's Mudjeskas, sold through Muth's Candies in Louisville, Kentucky. They're caramel-covered marshmallows, but that hardly begins to describe them. They ship well, everyone loves them, and if I am frank, they trounce their California competitor, Scotch Kisses from See's, in every category. This year I may try the chocolate-covered ones. -Jesse

Brass Kaweco Sport Fountain Pen

I’ll admit, I am not a pen guy. My handwriting is almost illegible, and so I've always preferred a keyboard to the manual writing experience. But a few months ago in London, I stumbled upon the Kaweco Sport, an inexpensive German fountain pen. The base models are plastic, but the one I bought is made from brass. It's a compact pen, but the hefty metal and large cap make it feel substantial. It's comfortably less than a hundred bucks, writes beautifully, and is handsome as hell. A real "pen guy" probably has ultra-particular tastes you'll never be able to accommodate, but the Kaweco is a great option for someone who’ll enjoy an upgrade from the world of rollerballs. -Jesse

Glerups Wool Slipper Boots

My wife walked around the house barefoot for decades, unbothered by cold or dirt. My toesies are always frozies, so I never took off my shoes. (I know, I know, but I have wood floors and live in California, where the elements don't follow you indoors). Then my wife’s feet started to hurt and her doctor laid it out for her: you need to wear some support anytime you're walking on hard surfaces. The answer was boiled-wool slippers like these, from Glerups. They keep your feet cozy without overheating, and they have a bizarrely compelling style. Glerups are the option recommended by the product review site The Sweethome, and I trust their judgement. -Jesse

[Pete’s note: I also dig these Tyrolean wool slippers, which have thin leather soles. They're like sweaters for your feet.]

John Hodgman's Vacationland

Hodgman took a hard turn in his new book, Vacationland. His first three books were compendia of imagined facts. They were deeply personal, but they weren't real. Vacationland is a genuine memoir, a story that follows Hodgman through three parts of life: growing up as a prematurely middle-aged child in a ramshackle house in Brookline, Mass; inheriting his family's summer home in Western Mass; and buying a home in his wife's family seat of Maine. It's very funny, but it's also beautifully written, and ultimately becomes a consideration of the pleasures and responsibilities of adulthood. A perfect gift for the dad who has everything. -Jesse

Manufactum Map Case

The map case has always struck me as the perfect man's purse. Unlike a big shoulder bag, it's modest in size, but it still has enough distinctiveness from a lady's bag and enough military heritage to feel like a man could wear it. In other words: it's useful enough for a woman, but PH-balanced for a man. The problem with map cases is that the real deal -- often made for European armies in the 1950s and ‘60s -- are made of vinyl and ultra-low-quality leather. Their form is appealing, but the reality is not. The other day, I got a doorstop of a catalog from the German retailer Manufactum, and I was thrilled to find that they have remade the German map case with real grown-up leather. -Jesse

Felt Hats by Barbara Keal

Years ago, when we were shooting Put This On in London, I met Guy Hills, the proprietor of Dashing Tweeds. Guy is a crackling ball of joyful, boyish energy. He rode around on one of those giant-wheel bicycles, showed us the riverboat behind his house, and told about his tweeds. He also showed us a hat his family had bought him for Christmas. It was a breathtaking concoction from felted wool, a ragged animal crown that reminded me of Where the Wild Things Are. "My friend Barbara made it for me, don't you love it?" And frankly, I did. I'm no furry, no costume-wearer, but it was genuine art. It was breathtaking. So I asked for one for Christmas from my family. It's one of my most treasured possessions. She takes commissions, although they can take a while to make. -Jesse

Ray Barretto’s Acid

Ray Barretto was one of the great bandleaders of Latin music. He was an accomplished jazz player, accompanying acts such as Art Blakey and Lou Donaldson as a conguero. When boogaloo hit in the early ‘60s, he had one of its signature hits, “El Watusi.” By 1968, Barreto was making salsa with the legendary Fania Records. He was music director of the Fania All-Stars, perhaps the greatest salsa band of all time, and making records under his own name. Acid is more than just a bit of trendy psychedelia. It's a genuinely thrilling record, with salsa, boogaloo, Latin rock, and jazz all in a blender. You don't need to know those genres to appreciate them either because, ultimately, it's dance music. It jams. If this one doesn’t thrill you, you're dead inside. -Jesse

Aurora Shoe Company

I was flipping through a Japanese fashion magazine the other day, and was stopped short by these handmade shoes from Aurora Shoe Company. They were in a section featuring the editors' personal favorites and I could see why. They're profoundly dowdy, but immensely charming. The Middle English has full size runs for me (including narrow) and is pretty great, but the one I saw was the West Indian. Sadly, they only carry that one in sizes up to 11 womens, which is a 9 mens. Great if you're a Japanese fashion editor, but less great if you're a giant American oaf. -Jesse

Children’s Books, Who Needs Donuts and Radiant Child

Is there a picture-book-aged kid on your list? I've got three kids myself, and am a real snob. These are two books that meet my standards. Who Needs Donuts is a strange and hilarious story about a boy obsessed with collecting donuts. He learns the true meaning of love. It has the anarchic, deviant quality that animates Maurice Sendak and insane, riotous pictures that you can look at for hours. One of those stories that gets its hooks in deeply and you're not sure how. Radiant Child is a new picture biography of Jean-Michel Basquiat by Javaka Steptoe. Steptoe is a gifted artist himself, and his pictures were built from fragments of Basquiat's past, like literal window frames from the places he lived. He also isn't afraid of the deepest emotional resonances of Basquiat's life and work. The book is largely driven by Basquiat's relationship with his mentally ill mother, and the subject is presented beautifully and movingly. Steptoe's own mother struggled with mental illness, and in reading, an adult can see the ways Basquiat's story is animated by Steptoe's. -Jesse

A Small Vintage Steiff Animal

The world is full of Steiff collectors, the world's greatest manufacturer of stuffed animals. There's a reason, too. Steiffs have immense charm, they're distinctive, and more than a little bit beautiful. They also make great gifts. The older, smaller ones are generally well under a hundred bucks on eBay or from a local antique shop, and you have your choice of a century of creatures. You can go with a classic bear, but I love the more unusual beasts, such as lobsters or ride-on turtles or this tremendous fox, which may be begging for a treat? -Jesse

(Derek’s note: for the menswear enthusiasts among you, A Kind of Guise routinely makes parkas with Steiff’s signature wools).

A Plant (and an Accompanying Planter)

I like giving art or decorative objects as gifts (although they can be risky if you don’t know someone’s taste pretty well). Another good gift in this category is a simple houseplant—an easy and almost universal present. Houseplants have been undergoing a bit of a renaissance recently, so the availability and variety are broader than they were a few years ago. The snake plant is easy to care for and doesn’t need much light or attention. One of my favorites (still reasonably small—fit for a desk or countertop) is a staghorn fern. Air plants and small succulents can also fit almost anywhere and will require minimal care. If you know someone likes plants and has some space, step up to the monstera, whose distinctly shaped leaves you’ll recognize from Aloha shirts. You can find decent selections online from stores like The Sill, which also offers a 30-day guarantee, your local garden store, or even Ikea. -Pete

Lizzy Goodman’s Meet Me in the Bathroom

If the Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and LCD Soundsystem were in regular rotation on your first generation iPod, you'll appreciate Goodman's oral history of the New York scene in the ‘00s. Goodman interviewed dozens (hundreds?) of musicians, managers, DJs, and journalists and chronicles how rock 'n' roll re-took over the world from limp late-era alternative rock and Limp Bizkit. The stories they tell are enjoyably revealing, overblown, and gossip-y. Sample quote from James Murphy: “This is me dancing. This isn’t the drugs dancing. This is the drugs stopping myself from stopping myself from dancing.” -Pete

A Watch Winder from WOLF

If your friend owns mechanical wristwatches, a watch winder could be the perfect gift. There’s a lot of debate on whether they’re necessary -- a winder may or may not extend the life of a watch -- but they do eliminate the need to wind automatics. That can be nice if your friend owns watches with certain complications (e.g. setting the date, which can be annoying if you haven’t worn a watch in a while). WOLF makes some wonderful winders. Handsomely designed and constructed from reliable parts, these are fully programmable so you can set the number and direction of rotations (a good way to customize the winder to best suit your watches). They’re also a beautiful way to display special timepieces -- something to decorate on your friend’s dresser or bookshelf. -Derek

A Handsome Mach 3 Handle

Gillette’s Mach 3 has spread into almost every medicine cabinet since it was first introduced in the late ‘90s. It’s the safety razor most men, including me, have stuck with since learning how to shave in high school. Stock Gillette handles, however, are pretty ugly -- cheap, plastic, and dinky looking, they’re an eyesore on countertops. You probably can’t get your friend to switch shaving habits, but you can give them a better Mach 3 handle. British brands such as Edwin Jagger sell some handsome ones, although I prefer the more distinctive hand-turned designs found on sites such as eBay and Etsy. They’re typically hand carved from a block of wood, then lacquered with an epoxy to give the surface a shine and water-resistant finish. I like them in buckeye burl woods. Mine, pictured above, was purchased at this shop. They no longer have the handles in burl wood, although you can find them elsewhere. -Derek

American Trench’s Speckled Wool Socks

Everyone hates cold feet, which is why warm socks make for an easy, even if pedestrian, gift (get it? Pede? Feet? Ok). I like these Donegal-style wool socks at American Trench. They’re cozy, designed to be worn with boots, and made at a Pennsylvanian factory from hardy Italian yarns. The flecks of color give some nice visual interest without being overdone. Kinda pricey at $30, but a two pack runs for $45 and you can keep a pair for yourself. Hard to go wrong with any of the colors, although I dig the yellow ones most. -Derek

A Fancy Ass Cheese Knife

Everyone has that one friend that loves to host parties. And thank God, because without them we’d never leave our homes. To show your appreciation for their efforts, give them a fancy cheese knife. It’ll allow them to serve up some delicious appetizers, add something to their party decor, and give you an excuse to duck out of awkward conversations at said gatherings (“Is that, is that cheese? Excuse me”). Chelsea Miller sells some lovely looking knives. She makes them completely herself, from start to finish, at her workshop in Brooklyn. The metals are sourced from recycled farrier rasps; the wood harvested from her family farm in Vermont. They have a wonderfully elegant and rustic style about them, and would be something your friend and others can use for years. -Derek

Billingham Camera Bag

It never fails to impress me how many people are interested in photography nowadays. Unfortunately, most camera bags aren’t terribly great looking -- black ballistic nylon designs with cheap plastic details, they look like the sort of things carried around convention halls. If you have a friend who’s a budding photographer, give him or her a Billingham instead. They’re made in England and look like repurposed traditional fishing bags (Billingham actually started as a fishing bag manufacturer). The interior is padded to protect camera equipment, but the exterior is made from a handsome mix of cotton canvas and leather. You can find Billingham bags new at their webshop or second-hand on sites such as eBay and Etsy. They also used to make camera bags for Banana Republic -- pre-Gap, back when the brand was still a solid safari-themed outfitter. Extra points if you can find one with that heritage. -Derek

#Gifts #Gift Guides #Holiday Gift Guide #Christmas

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rosierues · 7 years

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Yuuri (on my wall)

A quick one-shot, because the idea made me smile. I’ll be back with more Manifest Emotion soon, though :)

Title and AO3 link: Yuuri (on my wall)

Rating: Teen for Yuri’s potty mouth

Summary: Victor wishes he had a collection of Yuuri's memorabilia. Yuuri doesn't think there is any.Yuri Plisetsky knows better.

Victor insisted on bringing the stupid pork cutlet bowl’s creepy as fuck poster collection back to Russia with them. It now covers an entire wall of their flat, and Victor likes to pose next to it. To his credit, the pork cutlet bowl, who has enough of a sense of shame to balance out Victor’s complete and utter lack of it, tends to turn red and stammer in horror whenever he does it (unless he’s drunk and Yuri does not need to think about that, thank you very much. He’s already scarred for life). Over the next few months, more posters get added—multiple versions of their disgusting paired skate, and several new and shiny ones of Pork Cutlet Bowl in his latest costumes. It’s almost sweet, in a grossly egotistical way.

And then one day, Yuri overhears Victor saying mournfully, “I can’t believe they never made any official merchandise for you before now, Yuuri. I would have collected it all.”

Yuri chokes on his drink.

And Pork Cutlet Bowl, the lying little piggy, says, wide-eyed, “Oh, I was never that important, Vitya. Why would anyone make posters of me?”

Yuri chokes again, so badly he starts coughing.

Mila hits him obligingly on the back and asks, “Something wrong, baby?” Her voice has that note that suggests she’s caught the scent of a secret and won’t rest until she ferrets out the truth.

“No!” Yuri snarls and then, because her eyes are still narrowed, he lies, “Beka sent me a picture of a cat on a rollercoaster.”

She ruffles his hair, laughs at him, and wanders off to torment Georgi.

To be safe, Yuri texts Otabek. Send me a picture of a cat on a rollercoaster. Quickly!

Otabek texts back, Should I ask?

No. Just do it!

Otabek sends three. Hah. Yuri wins all round.

But it gnaws at him, especially once he realises that the idiot who shares his name actually meant what he said—he genuinely believes that nobody ever made any merchandise of Japan’s top figure skater. How the fuck is that even possible? He must have signed the contracts—must know he has sponsors.

Otabek, over Skype, furrows his brow thoughtfully and says, “Didn’t he also not notice that he was engaged to Victor? Even after he bought the rings and proposed himself?”

Yuri beats his head against the desk a few times. “I hate him. I hate Victor. I hate them both.”

“Of course you do,” Otabek agrees with him. “That’s why you called me at two am to rant about them.”

Yuri lifts his head just enough to give Otabek a Look.

Otabek looks stoic, but his mouth is ever-do-slightly tilted at the corner in the way that means he’s laughing inside.

Yuri hates everybody.

All the same, he can’t quite get it out of his head, especially after he goes online and sees how expensive vintage Yuuri Katsuki memorabilia has become since the stupid piggy squeaked his way to a World Championship win. Some of it you just can’t get anymore, even if you’re stupid-rich and profligate like Victor. And Victor knows this too—Yuri’s heard him bemoaning it to Georgi over lunch.

And it’s annoying, okay—annoying on the same level as the stupid Yuuri vs Yuri whiteboard Mila’s put up in the changing rooms, just out of his reach (it started as quads landed in practice, until Yakov banned that when accidents started happening, and now she changes the terms every week. Last week it was Claiming to be average vs Screaming on ice. This week it’s Caught kissing his fiance when he should be practising vs. Caught messaging Otabek when he should be stretching which is totally unfair because some people, unlike her, know how to multitask).

Yuri stares up at the posters of tigers and bands that cover his walls and tells himself that it’s none of his business and he doesn’t fucking care and Victor’s too annoying to deserve nice things anyway.

Except…

Except every time someone mentions posters, Victor’s doing that stupid wistful pining face that he wore for weeks after Sochi, and though Yuri obviously doesn’t care about that, anyone who walks into the Apartment of Gross Idiocy right now might assume that the pork cutlet bowl is a stalkerish weirdo superfan (which he is, of course) and not that everything they’re seeing is evidence of Victor Nikiforov’s over-romanticized egotism. And that’s just not fair.

So that’s the only reason Yuri hesitates at the end of his next phone call with his grandpa and mutters a request.

Kill me, he messages Otabek later. Kill me now.

Can’t. Too tired to walk to St Petersburg.

Do it remotely.

Too poor to hire assassins. You’ll have to live and suffer for another day.

Yuri goes to sleep grinning to himself triumphantly.

Grandpa brings the box with him next time he comes to visit. It’s covered with dust from the attic, and the corners are a little soft with age, but everything inside is still in good condition—Yuri checks and no, he doesn’t linger over certain items. He’s just being thorough.

“Are you sure you want to get rid of all this, Yurochka?” Grandpa asks. “You used to love it all so much.”

Yuri hunches his shoulders. “Yeah, well, I grew out of that crap. It’s dumb. Only little kids like that stuff.”

Grandpa eyes the posters currently covering his walls and then turns a wry look at Yuri. He doesn’t say anything, though, but changes the subject to ask after Potya. Yuri makes him pose for a selfie (with Potya, of course) and posts it on Instagram.

Otabek is the first to like it. Yuri sends him a message that says, Your turn!

He was only hoping for a cat picture, but a few hours later, Otabek posts a picture of himself with his tiny, impossibly ancient grandmother and a ginger cat that takes up both their laps. All three of them have exactly the same lack of expression.

Yuri saves it to his phone and spends the next few days showing it to everyone he knows, even after Mila changes the whiteboard targets again.

Yuri waits with the patience of cat (heh) stalking its prey until Pork Cutlet Bowl next leaves the country for a meeting with his sponsors (“Bring me a poster, Yuuri,” Victor calls forlornly as he vanishes through the departure gate). That evening, Yuri invites himself over to eat Victor’s food and play with his dog. He takes the box with him, taking satisfaction at the smear of dust it leaves on Victor’s perfectly polished table. He leaves it there to swerve into the kitchen and open the fridge.

“What’s this?” Victor asks, sounding puzzled.

The quality of the leftovers in Victor’s fridge has definitely gone up since the stupid piggy moved in. Yuri snags a bowl of gyoza and trails over to the microwave. “Some old crap I’m getting rid of.”

“So you brought it here?”

Yuri shoves the food in the microwave and leans back oh-so-casually. He watches as Victor flicks the box open with the tip of his finger and then goes still before diving in to seize the topmost poster. It unrolls in his hands to show Katsuki Yuuri in mid-triple axel, his face intent and his arm raised towards the sky. It’s the sky blue and white free skate costume from his victory in the Junior Grand Prix Final, and Yuri feels the faintest twinge of regret—it had taken weeks of frustration and wrestling with bad google translations to get that delivered from Japan.

Victor gazes at it as if it was the real Yuuri, and then lifts his face to stare at Yuri.

“Yurio?” he breathes.

“Not my name, old man,” Yuri mutters. “Like I said, old crap. It was taking up space in the attic.”

Victor does weird heart-faced things with his face, freak of nature that he is.

The microwave pings and Yuri retrieves his food and slithers back towards the sofa. He says, with the glare he usually saves for Mila. “If you breathe one fucking word to him, I’ll… I’ll…” He can’t think of a threat dire enough.

“I’ll stay quiet,” Victor promises, miming zipping his mouth shut. That’ll be the day.

Yuri slumps on the sofa, making room for Makkachin, switches the TV on, and eats Victor’s dinner as the man himself makes embarrassing squeeing sounds behind him. After a while, he puts his plate aside and goes to mock Victor (and if the mockery includes the odd muttered bit of information like, “And that’s the limited edition figurine in the Olympic jacket,” and “there’s only fifty of those in the world with his actual signature on, so don’t crumple it, fuckwit,”, it’s just to make it clear that he knows the exact extent of Victor’s stupid crush).

When Yuuri gets back from Japan to be greeted with Victor’s new collection, he’s absolutely mortified. Yuri knows this because he talks about it all week.

“I didn’t even know they made all that,” he keeps saying. “Vitya, where did you get it?”

Victor, for once in his fucking life, remembers his promise and keeps his mouth shut.

Yuri pretends not to be listening, staring at his phone intently even as Mila wanders past with a whiteboard pen.

He’s got better things to do. Ignoring the cacophony of idiots around him, he scowls at eBay. There’s an official poster of Otabek Altin with his gold medal from the last Four Continents which would fit perfectly on the back of Yuri’s bedroom door.

Band posters are for dumb kids, after all. Yuri thinks it’s time to collect something new.

#yoi #yuri plisetsky #victuuri

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runningblogofanunfit30somet-blog · 5 years

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Brighton Marathon - 14th April

Second marathon of twelve! YES 12!

Ah man, my head was all over the place after Manchester. The high of getting that PB and the crash of tiredness and aches just had me all over the shop. Unlike Manchester, I only had a week to prepare for Brighton, unpacking, getting the laundry done and repacking ahead of my trip down to East Worthing on Friday after work. Typically early at the station so treated myself to my favourite pre marathon food - sushi! If you’re running a marathon you are absolutely allowed to indulge right? Those are just the rules! The train was PACKED but managed to squeeze myself into a seat. I’d forgotten it was the start of the Easter holidays for some which is the only explaination for why it was so busy at 8pm on a Friday. Panic set in when it was announced that the train SPLIT at Heywards Heath. FFS the signs could’ve been a little more helpful especially as they said that the train went all the way to Hove which is where I needed to change. Mad dash to the front of the train, suitcase in tow was not exactly planned but managed to get to Hove and change for the final leg into East Worthing.

The room was beautiful and was grateful for a shower when I arrived. Cooked breakfast in the morning too - YUM!

Saturday comes and I head into Brighton to pick up my number, nerves starting to creep in as I suddenly realise that my body doesn’t seem to be aching from Manchester only 6 5 days before, but my heads just not in the game. Tiredness and a weird week at work I think BUT I had arrived, registered and I was doing it regardless.

I managed to time it just right both missing the queue and the rain to go and collect my number. I mostly hung around the CALM tent all day to meet the other runners and just chill out ahead of the run. It got to 6pm though and I had frozen my tits off in the rain and just needed to head back to the B&B, eat and sleep ahead of the big day.

As is typical, I couldn’t sleep or at least what sleep I did get was minimal. Taped up, showered, hair done, nails cut, the alarm goes off at 6:30am and I head down for an early breakfast where I meet Martin, another runner.

I decided on grabbing a cab to the start pens and offer Martin a lift as I’m heading down anyway and there’s no point in us both paying to get there.

Heading towards the event village and start pens I can feel the usual butterflies in my belly. The routine of getting your number on, dropping of your bag and waiting in the seemingly endless queues for pre race piss is all part of race day. I manage to find CALM and join in for the group photo. It’s always so emotional when you hear the stories and reasons why others are running. It’s such a personal cause and makes it all hit home a bit.

Betsy and Seedy are kind enough to offer to stick my suitcase in their boot as it’s too big for the baggage lorries - FUCK! A quick walk to the car and back served well as a warm up and they are honestly so lovely too. It was a nice way to calm the nerves and I decided that I would drop back a few pens to start the race with them. There was no pressure to hit my previous personal best of the previous week, just getting around it would be enough for me. 2 marathons in the space of 8 days? I must be mad!

The race starts and I feel the excitement surge into adrenaline as we pass cameras, commentators and supportive family and friends and then I was flying, or at least it felt like that - looking back, those early hills really hit hard if you weren’t ready. However, the first few miles seemed to effortlessly drop away, most likely because I made the most of the downhills and let gravity do the work for me. It was around the 5km mark I bumped into Lizzy who came down to support me! SO GOOD TO HAVE FACES IN THE CROWD. I cannot stress this enough! Supporters really do give you the boost you need.

This was perhaps also my downfall though, the surge of energy and excitement perhaps threw my pace off. I was aware I wasn’t being as fast as Manchester but that didn’t matter. What did matter though was that I wasn’t being consistent or keeping an eye on my hydration. This would come back to haunt me later.

At mile 5 I saw Lizzy again who, with endless encouragement tells me I’m doing really well and keeping a good pace and sends me on my way again.

Down another hill was mile 6 and the official CALM cheer point and THEY are just amazing. The wonderful Hannah Goodwin takes the best action photos! Another surge of energy sends me on my way out along the sea front, towards miles 7, 8, 9, 10 and 11. I pass the CALM cheer point again at mile 12 which, after almost an hour of ENDLESS FUCKING HILLS, is the high point I needed to send me into the second half of the marathon.

This is where I started to fall apart.

As I pass the halfway mark, the lead woman passes me the other way. I still have another 14 (ish) miles to go and she’s fucking finishing!

The crowds were immense in and around the park and seeing the guerrilla CALM cheerers were the spark that really kept you going. Until mile 14.

There was a very unhappy rumble in my belly. Passing a church with a “toilets open” sign was indeed the sign from god that day as I went into full evacuation mode.

10 minutes were spent locked in silent terror in that toilet. I was asked by a kindly woman if I was okay and explained, I’d had a bit of an upset stomach and managed a smile and returned to the race.

At mile 15 I managed to spot Ally in the crowd! Another kindly face to spur me on when my body was defying me to continue. She gave me a hug, electrolyte water, energy gels and the much needed encouragement to will my now aching body into movement.

The toughest part of the race was ahead. The rolling streets and endless turn backs, seeing runners both ahead and behind you made it really difficult to judge where exactly you were and what time you were heading for.

The absolutely could crushing part of the race though was between miles 18 - 22, a dockyard industrial estate, with few spectators, no view, no music, just you, the road and thousands of other pained runners. Seeing Paul run the other way past me, had me in tears. He stopped and gave me a very much needed hug to will me on just the few more miles to the finish.

The sea finally came into view and I knew I was close to finish. Ally and her wonderful face was there again, this time trying to live stream as I run past for my uncle in America. A hug, some more water and more encouragement than I deserved and I was back on my way. Just round the corner, there was the lovely Lizzy again who jogged with me for a bit which was so nice. Having someone alongside you in your pain, telling you how well you’re doing is really the best. She was just soo good to me on that day. A little way further still and Shona was there shouting my name! She was across the road so I couldn’t stop for the much needed hug but with only half a mile from the finish I had the end in sight.

5:10:38

A respectable time and I’m not even remotely ashamed or embarrassed. I was not on form that day physically or mentally but I did it. A sixth of my challenge complete.

Feeling pleased with myself and loaded up with all the freebies the marathon sponsors were willing to throw at me, I made my way to the CALM tent where I happily tucked into snacks and cider and basked in the tired celebration of other runners and endless energy of the supporters. That day belongs to them. I wouldn’t have made it round if it were not for their support. Genuinely and sincerely.

The train back to Brighton was slow and full but I had Shona’s lovely company and hugs aplenty. She even treated me to cab ride home to save my legs.

That race, was beautiful but tough. It’s one thing to respect the distance, because 26.2 miles is a bloody long way, it’s another thing to misjudge it though. The hills, the heat and the wind combined with exploding guts and a head not quite in the game gave me a new definition in which to judge my ability.

I did it. Onwards to Newport.

#brightonmarathon 12marathonsin12months #running #CALM #yesIcan

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wildgrave · 7 years

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what do u love about ur friends

idk which one of ya sneaky bastards sent this but i’m not gonna complain b/c i will take any possible opportunity to gush about my friends.

update: this got entirely out of hand and i just wrote about like... everyone i talk to. if u talk just ctrl + f ur name (but don’t feel bad if you’re not in here b/c i’m doing this off the top of my head and can’t remember everyone!! also a lot of these are hs friends who don’t have tumblrs but u asked anon so)

i honestly love them all for different reasons tho!! i’m not going to tag everyone but: thanh is great for a straightforward answer & we have the same awful sense of humor which is basically 8 years of memes to reference (also she says no romo a lot which i find rly funny for some reason??). hannah is super loving and supportive and always looking out for me. jessie is wry and clever and honestly has every reason to get annoyed at me 24/7 but somehow doesn’t. whitten i talk to every day and is super rational about my problems which is helpful when i need solutions (also dank memes). gaby is great b/c we both have a lot of the same interests (feminism, art, fashion, shit-talking ppl, etc) and gets riled up about my problems which is great when i need someone to get angry with. colette also gets angry, usually angrier than me, about my problems and is the best person to offer to beat boys up (b/c i know if she gets drunk enough she will fight anyone). kathleen is great b/c we always end up doing something ridiculous and it’s fun and makes a good story. brooke is the fucking funniest person i have ever met and thinks she’s punk rock but is secretly boujee as fuck. amber also thinks she’s punk rock, but has the softest, purest heart of gold of anyone i’ve ever met (also she comes up with the most ridiculously hilarious ways to proposition me). claire and i can talk about absolutely anything and send each other close ups of pimples but also take nudes of eachother and honestly if thats not true friendship then what is?? sofie is honestly brilliant and always has clever comments to make and i’m lowkey in love with her to this day and i mean, if you’re not a little in love with your friends wyd?? mila is so sweet and i can have fun with her doing anything, like we don’t even need to go anywhere we can just have philosophical talks on my bed and it’s chill. sammy and i have only chilled irl once but she’s really quiet and nice but occasionally makes rly snarky comments about straight ppl which are hilarious. lucy is never on skype but when she is we have a fuckin field day and she’s so petty but like... in a funny way? i’ve only hung out with andie once (which i’m trying to change before she goes back to vegas) but she’s so into musical theatre and i love reading her tweets about it b/c i love how passionate she is! dylan makes awful decisions on the daily like... blowjob competition? rly dyn? and it’s so funny to hear about and he gives ridiculous but funny advice and is super australian and always says “bruv” which is super funny to me. jenna i’m p sure is going to be running the world in two years (also holy shit she’s graduating college?? my bb girl is growing up :’)). adja is so funny b/c i thought she was super by the rules in hs but now she’s a wild child. aidan (as in the senior in hs, not the one my age) sends me #relatable memes and even tho we don’t talk often it gets deep as shit when we do (but i lowkey don’t trust him b/c of his opinions of iron fist smh). allie is in my race & ethnicity class and is just nice all around and we DM eachother on twitter sometimes like ‘what was that awful presentation in class’). nick from polisci is so knowledgeable about politics but makes the issues funny w/o being offensive and shannon (also from polisci) dresses rly cute and we have fun conversations & the three of us have a funny group chat for our presentation. quinn is such a wannabe edgelord but is honestly so pure and a good friend. asmaa is the sweetest possible person and we always tease quinn together. ricky continously gives me a hard time about everything but in a funny way and patiently explains WoW lore to me. JT is also fun to play WoW with and makes me feel like a baby b/c he’s and old man. rebecca’s steadfast belief in drarry makes me smile and i love her writing. harri is one of my many wives and her snapchats are amazing (as are her boobs). kinzie i rarely talk to but i can still hit up sometimes like whats up bitch today i had sex while listening to wtnv. cassie, becca, and eleanor are all rly cool and super pretty and nice to chill with and i love their art and photography and general personalities. georgie gave me the sweetest poem and letter last summer when i was feeling down and we have similar aspirations and i’d love to work with her in my career sometime! marko and henry are married istg but anyway marko is such a genuine, honest person and henry is an amazing writer and i loved english with him and it’d make me happy if we were closer. lena is my protege and i am an awful mentor b/c i never see her since i graduated but she is my child. layla is the baddest bitch i have ever met, her nails are always amazing and we can be catty together and blast nicki minaj. sarah is so funny b/c everyone thinks she’s reserved and studious and stuff (and she kinda is) but once you get to know her she is the sassiest person you will ever meet. my sister and i fight sometimes over me stealing her clothes constantly but we bond over how our parents drive us up the wall and also she cooks a lot which means i can steal food. the entire volstovic cycle fandom (dani, scarlett, anna, crystal, etc) are all amazing creators of things and honestly an inspiration. rimsha is the hardest working person i have ever met and i love hearing about her succeed. brady is my fellow gay (tho tbh 90% of the ppl on this list are gay b/c we flock together) and i love him for his snarkiness. all the boys i sat at lunch with in high school (garrison, rex, arun, etc) are such memes but i didn’t realize how cool they were until we graduated and now i’m like, damn i should’ve paid them more attention even tho i saw them every day. my boyfriend is my friend and he’s the most politically active person i have ever met, and he’s such a dweeb, and he makes me smile whenever we’re together (even when i’m trying to be angry at him). feihong acts like a fuckboy but is pretty dang cool if i’m being honest; he’s rly dedicated to what he does. carly and i don’t talk but i appreciate her paintings and selfies and funny tweets from afar. morgan and i were at a fidlar concert once together and we both couldn’t survive the mosh pit (also her instagram captions are fuckin hilarious am i right or am i right?). kelly is a goddamn klepto but we always have fun together drinking coffee and talking about pens and i love and support her art and she does the same for mine. charlotte is chill and i miss just hanging out in her basement b/c she’s such a gemini but in a good way. the ppl i sit with on campus (sumaiya, alex, zuri, etc) are always having interesting convos and share food and it’s a good time. my cousin and her husband (nat and ron) are the most punk ppl in their 30s and they introduced me to the punk scene and i miss them b/c they moved back to kansas. shakey’s photography on insta makes me feel pensive and i want to go to philly just to meet her. miki i’m not super tight with but her writing is a+ and makes me cry and i love rping with her. rina is such a cool mutual and her art is dope. lea is also a cool chic and i love her hair and want her to bake my wedding cake. mousse is so nice to everyone. ellie and i only talk like twice a year at family parties but we can always dive back in and pick up where we left off. the ppl i party w (other aidan, jakob, justin, etc) are dumbasses (i use that term endearingly) but i’m 98% sure they’ve all carried me to the toilet when i’ve been puking my guts out at a party. marley was that friend that ended up going to yale and no one was surprised so i admire her success but also she was always kind to me and always asked how i was doing with my mental illnesses. renee and maria and i bonded over ib art and sga and generally being over-worked by our sponsor. alanna was another one of my proteges who i need to keep up with better b/c she’s badass and funny and has the best eyebrows ever. i don’t talk to sidney anymore but we went thru so much together and supported eachother a lot a few years ago and i still love em for that. eddie is such a dweeb, everytime i see him (which is a surprising amount considering he lives in miami) we act like nothing has changed and go at eachothers throats. rachel m & galen have both grown so so much since i met them and i’m proud of them. rachel s is so fun to talk about hoe things with and laugh at eachother. marco has the best finsta of anyone ever. danny and i talk over snapchat every so often (like every month or so) and we have the weirdest convos like?? let’s name your imaginary lizard. zamzam (from my creative writing class last semester) was super fun to hang out with when she came over and actually everyone in that class (xander, leah, olivia, will, etc) were excellent writers and hilarious and we all bonded. victor is such a bro honestly he’s funny and is very attentive (actually listens) and is fun sober or not. sandra i’ve known since i was a baby and never really talked to until recently but she’s so nice to talk to about small things. alyssa i stalk obsessively on goodreads b/c who else can read that much, istg girl you’re a cyborg (but like a pretty one). rp buds that i haven’t mentioned so far (mario, mackenzie, etc) i value a lot for their companionship and writing. there are tons of ppl from hs that i wish i had gotten to know better when i was there (julia, drea, tina, both erins, bridget, etc).

and yeah there are more ppl but those are mostly ppl i talk to at parties or dm occasionally or wish i was friends with but admire from afar. anyway. this got long. I JUST LOVE PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

#Anonymous

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2ndinooo-blog · 7 years

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Above Creativity

Sharpies have been around for many years. When you think of sharpies you think of creativity, We’ll, at least I do. Sharpies are colorful permanent marker, pens, and highlighters.The company had a down fall back in the 1930-1964 during the great depression and that;s when the founder changed their name from Sanford to Sanford Ink Company which started producing Sharpies. The first celebrities to endorse the product were the talk hosts of NBC Johnny Carson and Jack Parr and in the 90s celebrities throughout the US only used sharpies when it came to autographs. Sharpie changed the permeant ink revolution.

Sharpie has three main social media platforms: FaceBook, Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram.

Facebook: Their Facebook page has over 3.5 million likes and followers. Their content is based on the month and what is trending. For the month of October they had several Halloween spectacular videos. The company is also known for sharpie challenges. About every other month Sharpie comes up with a new challenge and post it on their Facebook page since it is, the one with the most views and have it has more followers it is the perfect one to post the challenge. Of course, there is a prize attached to it and it varies through out challenge. Viewers and followers like their challenges because they feel a sense of connection with the company since they get featured on their social media. When it comes to connecting with their consumers, Sharpies do one heck of a good job. They are constantly asking for feedback and reviews and in return you might be surprised with a new Sharpie.

Twitter: Their twitter feature several of their fan work. Followers get inspired by other followers since Sharpie is only the marker producer and the final product is done by their consumer. In other words twitter is the right page to produce your original work and who knows you might get featured on their Twitter or you might get a retweet. On their twitter account they have been very interactive with their audience. In their Twitter account they also display how every lasting their product is and its resilience. As a consumer’s point of view I think that if you see how well the product really is, it makes the product a lot more approachable a desirable. Lately, they have been responding to consumers if they have any questions about their product. This is something not many companies do. Most of the time if you have an issue or complain you would contact customer service. But hey, not with Sharpie, you just tweet them out and they will respond to you in regards of your comment or concern. Pretty sweet!

Tumblr: When you visit Sharpies Tumblr page it sure is colorful and poppin. Bright and bright colors is all you see. It’s actually quite nice and enjoyable. Maybe not the average person might like it, but for artistic purposes it is well formated. A lot of creativity in one page that they can spare on to their Instagram.

Instagram: This social media platform can use some help since it is the one most millennials are utilizing now a days. They do have a good count of followers but not as much content. They can produce more original content on the platform to gain new users and followers. Yes, they have a lot of original work, just not feeling the platform as much as I liked their Facebook. Some suggestions can be having Instagram giveaways, challenges, and videos of fans doing their artwork.

Sharpies have now sponsored major events like Nascar and they have worked closely with some celebrities. Maybe it’s time they work on a Youtube channel to expand their creativity. Many people might not know that Sharpie teams up with well known school and office supply brands to give back to their communities. Sharpie has collaborated with Josten’s $10,000 scholarship for several years now to award creative student and Starbucks to redesign their coffee cups. The Starbucks collaboration was phenomenon because it gained attention to those who dislike art.

Majority of Sharpie’s content is based on what fans produce and their work. It is amazing to see that the sharpie can produce a great product and fans expand their creativity. The brand is all about standing out being original.

"The Permanent Marker born for unique, unruly, courageous, outrageous self-expression that never, ever fades from glory. We are THE BOLD ORIGINAL, genuine article, and cultural icon of Permanent Markers.” Sharpie Brand

#sharpies #creativity #exploreart #original

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maneaterwithtail · 7 years

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More Praise of DC Gene Yang

I finally got my hands on the second volume collection of Superman's Adventures. At least the ones that were penned under Gene yang. I have to be honest I think choosing Vandal Savage as the big bad was much more appropriate. He's human enough so that it doesn't feel like we're getting a cosmic space flea from nowhere. And he ties into things that I think work very well with Gene's work. Particularly how Humanity's drive for ambition and to create Perfection and virtue can all too often Peter into cruelty and abuse.

It also creates a more appropriate theme between Clark, godhood, and of course the villain. In short we get an examination of ambition without necessarily vilifying ambition. We see why it always comes to a negative end point for both Clark's own sense of justice and why we ourselves would oppose it. These are things that Gene explored in a previous work that naturally he got to do much more coherently, The Shadow Hero. there he is taking a version of a golden age superhero and putting him in a knockoff version of The Golden Era of the Detective Comics with lots of social commentary. Okay there are also elements of Marvel and the strips and the character that he's Reinventing originally came from the House of Ideas. One aspect that he's always negotiated with, at least since American Born Chinese, is the fact that the very culture that he's a part of comes with a sense of conflict. He has a Heritage that very much interest him but also is in conflict with the ideals that he wants to live up to. Of course this also ties into the whole broken father figures thing.

The idea that Vandal Savage is in fact a hidden chosen one who has sponsored the Arts and society and ultimately wants to create the strongest Clan seems very romantic. Hell in this Game of Thrones world it even seems like something you would want to do. Who doesn't like to build their own faction and Kingdom Civilization and Minecraft say not enough that pandering the the illusion won't make you a millionaire? But we also see there's a reason why as a whole we try to move away from that.

Simply put even before we invented democracy as the Americans practice it or whatever no one liked being subjugated to a distant figure who basically will do everything that they wanted. In short his villains always seem to be a variation on a Fallen Hero and they always have a sense of connection with the hero but it's more deeper than them necessarily being father and son. It's more along the lines of he starts with a crisis or problem and then has two men react in two different ways to it. We even see why the first was seduced, the person that will ultimately end up on a bad path. There's usually some good attached to it as well. And certainly power and strength.

But inevitably because the path is based on self satisfaction it's all going to fall apart in a terrible way. Vandal Savage is pretty good for this, particularly as Lex Luthor in some ways has become too cuddly. Let's face it if you could be a bald, fit, superjeenius who employed millions and got to be an a****** because you were an expert at everything well I mean that's practically the protagonist of like 4 out of 7 TV dramas right now. Fuck it IS memetic Iron Man!!! Likely always has been an ideal.

Unfortunately then we run into the fact that comic book publishing even when you have one major author is so dominated by events and weirdness that even in this one collection there are enormous gaps in the story. However he's often able to do a pretty damn good short. Such as the use of Fight Club in order to keep the gods sustained on a ritualized form of worship and belief.

I mean I've always come to him for his sort of magical realism urban fantasy style trappings. Wee get right down to it you can't talk that without thinking superheroes and one way or the other. Being the children of pulps and many ways the modern language of how we deal with such Myths among us (USA USA, I know Europe and Britain does it different). I mean let's face it and this one he had effectively a secret Shadow Emperor have his sons and daughters attain power from the sky and then decide what to do with it. That is a freakin maxi-series right there!!! Likely start of a franchise. Why didn't he bottle this idea into a set of novels and webpublish!!

Hey as a result of Vandal Savage's takeover attempt did any of his suddenly empowered children ever decide that they were going to fight for Humanity instead of prove that they were part of the strongest Clan for Daddy? Also I'm not sure, intentional or not or maybe he just had a very strong editorial mandate, but i like the fact that he kept one characterization I always heard about Vandal Savage. His rhetoric and intellect may increase but at the end of the day he's still that disgusting barbaric caveman obsessed with being the strongest and the center of the world. .

This always ends up proving why Vandal should never try to make himself a leader. But he always ends up being so or a shadow before 1. He just can't seem to resist acting brutally in an act of self rationalized pettiness and cruelty and amusement. I do like however that he always does this in light of a very palpable Injustice or ignorance. Again he sees the same or similar problem but he uses the solution in the most cynical and authoritarian way and not because of genuine sense of law but it's always an excuse for self-aggrandizing.

And while Gene yang did alter vandals origin, I think he did it in a way that makes sense. Vandal is not bad because he's a caveman. He's bad because he refuses to accept anything outside of himself having authority over him. I also like how he writes Superman as flawed if only in a narrative sense because while he does mean well you can easily see that Clark does have something of a paternalistic complex and loves to avoid issues. He gets condemnative and annoyed with Lois for revealing his secret to the point that he can't forgive her despite the fact the circumstances were nowhere near as simple as he starts to remember them. This is contrasted with Superman's own relationship with Steve Trevor. He ends up craving power in order to fill a sense of validation. And he often is avoided reflection of his own negative character traits and flaws. Despite the fact that he really really loves being powerful and righteous and praised and looked up to. I love the fact that he feels this temptation. Because it feels like a very American one and Superman is a very American superhero Which was the nice touch. Gene always seems to remember the human element. How cool is it that Clark basically got bro manced by a fallen Sun Daddy?

But again I guess if you only read one sentence I want to ask did any of the children of Vandal Savage when they were empowered by the comet end up being well a decent person? Obviously when you're suddenly drunk on a high of super Juice from the sky and a guy appears and says hey want to keep this High going beat up Superman I can totally get why you get on that s***. But you got to wonder where there's some people who are all like you know what yeah I've heard this picture before it sucks thanks for the powers dad I'm going to go fight for the people I actually believe in

#Superman #Gene Yang #Vandal Savage #overall thoughts #Green Turtle #The Shadow Hero

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