#oh actually you have to pay a shit tonne of money for this

[girlishguitarist]

I always feel so weird when I see companies making mega expensive “punk” and “goth” clothes. I used to know this other person who kept on wanting to get into the goth scene, and another one of my friends literally was so willing to help her and get her started out with like music recs and clothing tips and she’d constantly tell us. “Oh, but dressing goth isn’t accessible for me. I don’t have the money.”

Which y’know makes sense, not everybody has the money to drop on getting goth clothes. Especially when your priorities are literally keeping a roof over your head and paying bills. We’re all from working class families here. But then we just kind of realised she was referring to the shit you’d find on like… Killstar or Dollskill and everything made a lot more sense. It’s been making me think. Ever since alternative subcultures such as goth, such as punk, even grunge tbf have made their way into mainstream fashion trends on the internet it’s made people believe that the only way you’re able to get clothes to “dress the part” is to fork out shite tonnes of money to these ridiculously overpriced online clothing stores. (You don’t even have to dress goth for example to be goth because it’s a music based subculture but that’s a whole other thing.)

The way trends are today with this whole, “aesthetic” thing along with the consumerist HELL that is fast fashion sparks a wave people just buying swathes of overpriced clothing to hop onto a clothing trend that is actually ripped from a subculture they don’t really understand? Like part of the whole core of these subcultures is that we are anti-consumerist and anti-capitalist. You are a fucking joke.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking negatively about people who truly want to get into these subcultures. There is nothing wrong with that at all, of course there isn’t. I’m talking about people who will see a fashion trend and just hop onto it and really have no idea what they’re doing. (This is part of the reason why I believe it’s unlikely we’ll ever have a new subculture as big as previous ones ever again because of just how everything is a trend now.)

Fashion that has been born from these subcultures has always been DIY. Making your own battle jackets, thrifting pieces of clothing and tweaking them to be how you want. Like… I don’t know about you babes but I don’t think goths in the 80’s were getting their clothes from fucking Hot Topic.

The fact that companies are now and have been making ridiculously priced pieces of clothing to capitalise off of: 1.) People who want to hop on trends because they don’t want to make the clothes they just want the style now, and 2.) People who want to genuinely get into subcultures such as punk and goth but may be misguided as to where to get clothing just makes me so fucking mad because it makes getting into the fashion within these subcultures seem inaccessible and consumerist-ridden when they’re absolutely not meant to be.

[gloriousmooseman]

I wrote a tiny lil fic inspired by this ICONIC video.

@hellhoundlair it was so funny I couldn't resist.

Sam steps out of the hot shower and grabs the towel from the rail, starting to pat himself dry. He pulls on his jeans and shirt and leans his head over, letting his hair fall over his eyes as he uses the towel to get the dripping water out when he hears a laugh coming from the shower over the still beating water.

“Dude, you’re such a girl. Why not go the whole mile and put it up in one of those turbans girls use?” Dean’s voice travels right through the glass between them and Sam just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, man. Hurry up. I want to actually get groceries for once and I need you to help me write a list.”

Dean scoffs and turns around, scrubbing his face and letting the water run down his backside. “Yeah, alright. Gimme a minute.”

“Okay,” Sam calls out as he opens the door, about to step out when Dean calls out again.

“Hold up, don’t forget to leave me the towel.” Sam grabs at his shoulder, realising he’s about to leave with it, and turns around, placing it neatly on the rail, as if it will dry at all in the next few minutes.

Sam shuts the door behind him and walks down the hallway into the main area of the bunker. He opens the fridge. Once again, they’re out of milk. For a grown man, Dean sure goes through a hell of a lot of milk, Sam thinks.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas’ voice comes out of nowhere, as usual, and Sam whips around, damp hair slapping him lightly in the face. 

“Cas! Hey, man. What’s up?”

Cas seems to ignore the greeting and asks, “Where is Dean? I have something for him.” 

Sam almost chuckles at the bluntness but responds, “I just got out of the shower, he’s still in there. He should be out in a few minutes.” Cas tilts his head the way he always does when a human interaction confuses him. 

“You were showering… together?” His voice sounds hesitant.

Sam raises his eyebrows, “No, I mean, uh, he showered straight after me, I, um, just got in first.”

Cas looks as though he is about to ask another question when Dean walks into the room, towel around his waist. “Oh, hey Cas. Hey, Sammy, do you wanna not dry your hair with our towel next time? It’s so wet, I’m practically still dripping.”

Sam’s eyes widen as he tries to signal to Dean to keep his mouth shut, but Dean continues talking, “Like I know you think you’re a girl and all, but you could at least use the hand towel for your luscious locks.”

Cas tilts his head once again, this time at Dean and asks, monotone, “Do you and your brother share a towel but shower separately? That seems impractical.”

“No, we-” Sam starts but is cut off by Dean’s confused voice.

“What? No, we shower together and then whoever gets out first just leaves the towel for the other one to use. There's only one in the bathroom. Plus showering together means we save a shit tonne of money on water bills.” Sam nearly chokes, looking at Dean frantically, but it’s too late, the damage is done.

“I thought you two didn’t have to pay bills for this bunker. And do you not have a whole cupboard of towels?”

Oh, shit.

[realasslesbian]

just in case anyone is wondering exactly how successful the government propaganda around robodebt has been; this bro literally could read my whole-ass submission, to the robodebt royal commission, which has for months now been loudly investigating the tonnes of illegal shit that the government did via robodebt, shit that eventually ended up costing him, a tax-payer (presumably), $1.9 billion in legal fees, which is the literal biggest government fuck up in a courtroom, in the entire history of Australia, but apparently the government brainwashing has worked so well for him that he still has no problem with anything the government has done, and instead is choosing to come after innocent victims of this atrocity, because that’s what the government has hardwired his singular brain cell to do, and this sort of mindless government bootlicking isn’t even particularly rare, I’m still getting loads of people harassing me about my robodebt, and how I should just pay whatever fake debt the government wants to hold me hostage over, as though if someone told them to do the same they’d just be like ‘oh sure please have tens of thousands of my dollars, no need to actually prove I owe anything, or even how you came to that particular sum of money, also thank you so much for ruining my life and killing thousands of people, just a top-notch job, I love Australia uwu’ like, as if they would just be that way if it were them in this situation, but anyway I just genuinely don’t understand how all these people can be so wilfully stupid, like, it doesn’t even matter what side of politics you’re on, if you’re supporting the government over robodebt victims then clearly you’re a fucking dunce who will shoot themselves in the foot just to keep sucking off the prime minister of the day

[enbyincrisis]

Fuck it I'm going to say something controversial. Podiatry majors are the worst and I hate them.

[honestlyvan]

Bulkhead Week Day 2

Favourite friendship: "Don't worry, big guy, they ain't ever pay me enough for this shit either."

We love a good defection, don't we?

William goddamn Fowler always had too much meat on the bones as a character for a kid's show to realistically handle, but that's not gonna stop me from having feelings about how he goes from approaching the Autobots with the wry wariness of a seasoned spy to actually, honest-to-Primus being on their side as the stakes of their war actually start dawning on him. And even before then, our introduction to this guy is that he's straight-up ready to die to buy some time for them (from his perspective, he'd know that if they could snag him, they could track him -- and if they could track him, it would be trivial to backtrace his route, so thank god the Decepticon intelligence department doesn't ever do its job right) just because they happen to be his problem to deal with.

He's also such a great example of Bulkhead's tendency to only warm up to his in-group -- the two of them start out with some pretty extreme horn-rattling b/c Fowler's job is to threaten the Autobots into behaving themselves in the most diplomatic way possible, which Bulkhead responds to by going "hey, fuck you too buddy" and threatening him right back. He mirrors his hostility in a way where it's really easy to read him as having clocked what Fowler's mission is and thinking that niceties are wasted on a spy -- and in his defense they kind of are, because Fowler's priorities at first are firmly in the "contain these alien clowns the best you can".

And they kinda stay at cool co-operation from thereon! Until Fowler meets Wheeljack, which is definitely the point where the gears really start turning in his head, and he goes "oh shit, they're like me. Not just, like, people, but they're like me". Like, you can tell that he suddenly gets it, because during the Great Fuckening Of The Plot in Season 2, he goes out of his way to try to relate to Bulkhead as a person, rather than passively assuming the duties of a commander like he's done in the past, and would you look at that. Now Bulkhead has a reason to be nice back at him :)

Fowler is incredibly underutilised, but he's underutilised in a way where I get it. After all, you need to take a few steps back and think broader to see how him "picking" the Autobots slowly unfolds in the background. It also requires really chewing on the backstory implications of a former Ranger, now working as a G-man, and a former Wrecker, now the Prime's bodyguard, a lot of which would probably be pretty tonally unsuitable for the show itself.

Fowler is also underutilised as a comedic foil, which is a trait he shares with Bulkhead, actually -- I'd pay good money for stories where the two of them are just in the background, watching the general melodrama of the plot unfold like "watcha make of this, two-tonne?" "Scrap, I dunno. Not the weirdest thing I've seen on this assignment, though". I've got a big need for stories where Bulkhead gets to be the adult in the room, and Fowler is just the best sounding board for him for stories like that because he is also, quite literally, the adult in the room, lmao.

[aw-eather]

Heather Watches SG1 s7ep17&18: Heroes pt1 and pt2

 Watched 23/06/2020

Well here we go friends. I’m torturing myself for the sake of making y’all laugh and also because I have a LOT of feelings about this two parter and NONE of them are good. I can’t be the only one so lets see who else agrees with me! 

This is about to get long and very swear word heavy so avert your eyes if you aren’t into that <3 Just letting you know I use some VERY strong language this post. I’m Australian so the word isn’t uncommon for us to use and we use it as a term of endearment in some parts too but I just wanted y’all to know. 

This turned into the biggest one I’ve ever done too with 362 dot points... read if you dare

Well here we go

I’m probably gonna cry a lot

I love Saul Rubinek. 

I adore him in Warehouse 13

Artie Neilson is like the dad I didn’t have

but fuck me if I don’t hate Emmet

This WHOLE two parter is pointless and just serves to kill of a character that didn’t need to die 

Anyway getting into that a little early on

Fuck the defence department. 

You haven’t spoken to Space Dad of Texas

The most unorthodox

JFC this ass hole

I’m calling him AssHole for the rest of the episodes

Of course they don’t want them here, he’s a dick 

Hammond’s little smile

This whole episode feels sombre and sad

and we’re three minutes into the two parter

this whole thing is about to fall to shit

credits

i’m not even excited for the credits

because I’m hurting

last time I watched this I’d started crying the second it started so I’m doing much better this time 

I love watching them go up the ramp  to the gate

its nice

end credits

NO ONE ASKED YOU SAUL

that was a bomb

but NO ONE ASKED YOU 

And Teryl Rothery as Dr. Janet Fraiser

FUCK OFF

He doesn’t have time

He’s busy

Lol coughed on his hand and went to shake Saul’s hand

dead

memos... as if Jack’s ever read one of those

Sam is so awkward

I love her so much

It is nothing short of extraodinary 

she is nothing short of extraordinary and we know this

but again

NOT ONE ASKED YOU ASSHOLE

and grand empress of scifi

grand empress of my heart 

goof ball

the list goes on

god she’s so awkward’

but so adorable 

Thats fine

please annoy Daniel 

What was it like to be dead ffs

TRANSCENDED? DID YOU PAY ANY ATTENTION???

What else is he supposed to say?! He DIED he doesn’t REMEMBER ANYTHING

Daniel’s right

Its fascinating 

LOL DANIEL YOU STUPID IDIOT THATS HILARIOUS

I love Daniel when he’s pissing off people i hate

Bill <3 

Personal microwave oven... nice

And its only taken you 7 years

so glad you did though

Odd that he was on fire

but we never see that happen any other times

“He does this all the time” poor Siler

Sam looks so happy when talking technobable and about her doohickeys. 

I adore her

And honestly all that shits fascinating 

still 32 minutes left... 

honestly if it weren’t for me talking about Janets death, I’d never watch these again. 

They are genuinely some of the worst episodes of SG1

I said what I said

“Sure. Its really cool. Steam comes out of it and everything”

She’s gonna kill someone

WALTER

Thats right

FUCK OFF SAUL

DOESN’T MEAN THERE WASN’T ANY GOA’ULD HERE RECENTLY

I love that they take odds

but this scene is only here to set up the character that is the reason Janet dies

because Janet shouldn’t have been off base

but we’re not going to talk about that are we? 

The episode would have played out the same if this man had died

Anyone can die in war

Doesn’t matter if they’re a parent etc

but nah

we gotta - 

sorry I’ll stop

SHE’S SO HOT 

JACK YOU IDIOT

As if he read the memo

THERE SHOULD BE A CAKE

Obviously he can’t tell you much because he was DEAD

OMG TEAL’C

HE’S NOT SAYING A WORD

BECAUSE HE FUCKING HATES THIS GUY MORE THAN I DO

SAUL SHUT UP

LITERALLY NO ONE CARES 

GO HOME

“Dr Jackson is going to die when he sees this”

“What again?”

my dude you have NO idea

This is what happens when you go poking around

you get ambushed

because it was all a fucking set up

no explination of WHO set them up tho... it was just a set up

what

a

joke

wooooooow

they took it out with a WALL

NOT THIS FUCKING ARSE HOLE

KINSEY JUST PISS OFF 

WE DON’T LIKE YOU

WE DON’T WANT YOU

GO SUCK A ROTTEN TOMATO

EVEN SAUL IS BORED OF YOU

AND HE’S THE MOST BORING MAN I’VE EVER MET

leave Jack alone

YES JACK

Its not slander if its TRUE YOU WANKER

NO YOU HAVE NOT

PAST AND PRESENT YOU ASS

JFC

Who cares what the president wants

I am 90% sure Jack just called Kinsey a limp dick and I’ve never been prouder? 

“deep and unyielding love for you, sir” SHUT UP JACK YOU GOOSE 

Well Mr Bregman can such a toe

Fancy arguing with Space Dad from Texas

OH FUCK OFF SAUL

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

NO ONE CARES

HAMMOND IS RIGHT

PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE IF YOU’RE THERE

PEOPLE ARE GOING TO GET HURT

YOU HAVE NO RIGT TO BE THERE

Sam joking around with Teal’c is so sweet

I love them and their friendship so much

Gah!

OF COURSE THERE IS A CHANCE THINGS WILL GO WRONG YOU NARCACISTIC FUCK

ITS LIKE TO GO MORE WRONG WITH YOU THERE

I’M SORRY I’M YELLING SO MUCH I JUST HATE HIM WITH MY ENTIRE BODY.

Well is he wrong? 

Because you’re an absolute arse, thats why it doesn’t matter

Shots of your ass serve us all well O’Neill

“How do you feel about Colonel O’Neill”

She wishes to kiss him, sir. 

And potentially much more but we shall no discuss that here

He is amazing

Time outside of work... what are you insinuating

Good cover

Like family

First and foremost her superior officer

Secondly your LOVER

because I pretend Pete doesn’t exist right now

OH THIS SCENE

Actually that was pretty cute Daniel

And you’re right it is fascinating

At some action? 

So you can be a dick and use peoples death as entertainment? 

Fuck me 

His job is the inscriptions

seriously fuck this guy

I love how Sam’s face goes from he’s right its boring to aww Daniel, he didn’t :O

I love their friendship

But it nearly could have cause people like oh, I don’t know, YOUR BOYFRIEND, SAMANTHA, stalk people

shouldn’t have stayed as long as you did

if y’all hadn’t stayed

this wouldn’t have happened

Janet my love 

I’m crying

wow Jack has been hurt a fuck tonne

he didn’t give permission

Saul is an ass

I’m literally fighting tears right now

I fucking love her so much 

You never know what to expect but you do such a good job sweetie 

I’m so proud of you

The more she talks the more proud of her I am

and the more of a loss it truly is that she goes

because she’s fucking incredible and she has so much heart 

her little laugh fucking STOP

My heart is literally breaking 

AND DR FRAISER

STOP

THEY WOULDN’T HAVE JUST WALKED INTO AN AMBUSH LIKE THAT ON ANY OLD DAY

WHY NOW

WHO WROTE THIS FUCKING SHIT

FUCK OFF SAUL

THIS IS RIDICULOUS

HER GIGGLE STOP I LOVE HER 

SHE DESERVED MORE

DO NOT GO

JANET NO STAY

BABY

and we end there to go to part two

this episode felt weird

it feels like is a drama inside a drama does that make sense? 

It kinda feels like 200

like it feels fake and like its about to cut to a shot of them sitting around a table, flabergasted and with their heads in their hands

So Robert C. Cooper wrote it

I just wanna talk buddy... just wanna talk

THEY AIRED THIS FUCKER THE DAY BEFORE VALENTIES DAY?!?! WTF SYFY?!

Alright starting episode 2

SAUL FUCK OFF YOU CAN’T BE THERE

JANET BABY DON’T GOOOOOOO

I AM CRYING

I have my pillow pet who is named Janet

She was a gag gift about 7 years ago and I was watching SG1 at the time

but also she just looked like a Janet

She’s become a staple in my life and I love her 

Anyway she always gets me through these episodes

credits

still not into it right now

should have skipped them this episode tbh

end credits

Ordered chocolate cake

it arrived

i’m happy with this choice

I don’t give a fuck about them deciding what happens in the fucking video

Good answer Daniel

I could also watch Major Carter’s head talk all day

They didn’t stand a fucking chance out there

They ran into that situation totally unprepared

which they would never have done normally

this whole two parter is fucking bull shit

and then they pit Jack and Janet against each other... like who are we gonna be more upset to lose in this moment

Fuck Jack

baby noooo

I can’t take this episode ffs

Lol Walter being cute

Get out of there

You cunt

get that fucking camera off 

fuck this guy

no Sam

fuck off 

leave her alone

punch him in the face

oh Sam honey I’m so sorry

she lost her best friend

FUCK OF SAUL

JESUS 

HER BEST FRIEND JUST DIED 

SHE’S IN PAIN

YOU DO NOT GET TO DICTATE WHETHER PEOPLE GET FILMED WHEN SHE’S CLEARLY IN PAIN

I’LL TURN YOU OFF YOU FUCKING ARSE HOLE FUCK YOU

don’t sit there all upset like your day has been ruined

And now we have them making us think Jack died so that we worry about him the entire episode instead of Janet

because who cares about her right?

FUCKING WOOLSEY

I literally just screamed

i hate him

this episode can’t get any FUCKING WORSE

I also question the decision. 

No offence Space Dad of Texas

but it doens’t make sense that you chose to do what you did

I’m sorry but it doesn’t 

FUCK OOOOOOFFFF WOOOSLEY

Hammond visiting Carter <3 

Ah Barrett

So Woolsey is a corrupt piece of shit

Whoda thunk it

I’m crying again

Poor Hammond

Poor Sam

Talking at the memorial man

OH GOOD MORE WOOLSEY

BECAUSE THIS EPISODE ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH...

Fuck him

And the truth is that you’re a dick, moving on

Daniel has a point... and I hate saying that but he has a point

I love Sam

Daniel doesn’t give a fuck

Go Daniel I’m proud of you

OH NOT SAUL AND THE F U C K I N G CAMERA

NO PISS OFF

This is cruel

to make us see her death

to show us her literal dead body was too fucking much

I’m sorry but this would have been just as powerful if Simons had died

Hes a good kid

but this would have had the same impact

I’m sick of this man

I’m sick of this shit

OH MY GOD GO THE FUCK AWAY YOU PIECE OF SHIT

Which is why you bastards should not have been in the fucking field

It was of a man dying

end of

Yeah but what they do every single day doesn’t mean show us JANETS DEATH

Sharing it with the world won’t make him feel any better about one of his best friends getting show you mole

Good, Woolsey again

suck my dick

So this guy put money values on peoples heads

and he got command of Atlantis? 

Yeah fuck him I’m not watching s5 of Atlantis

to be fair $27 million is a lot of money

but its still peopls lives

fuck off you smarmy git

I would love to see him tossed out on his arse

He can do that

fuck off you don’t get to say in whether or not you’re there or have a right to be there

you’re invading on peoples privacy

you’re an ass

The Tape

Fuck the N.I.D

I actually feel really bad for Daniel

fuck you Bregman

so excited to see people’s deaths

I had to pause for a moment

because I just saw Janet die

and its cruel

We didn’t have to see her death

knowing it happened was bad enough 

physically seeing her dead is like salt in the wound

Janet deserved so much more than this

hope you’re happy bregman

sam visiting Jack

hurts because i love the cute moment

but it hurts

because we shuoldn’t have had to lose janet for this

Cassie... my heart is broken

the way he looks at her when she starts crying and the hug  like he has been there with her so many times 

its all so sweet 

and they’re so in love but they can’t have each other

its rude 

Poor Simon... 

Poor Sam

watching her cry is so hard

and Teal’c 

guys i’m not sure i can finsih this

ok sorry I’m back

Gotta pick up Cassie

Cassie 100% lived with Sam right? 

Oh Teal’c... i love you so, so much you sweet angel

and the little hug.. their friendship is beautiful

I’m so sick of Bregman at this point

and them being in the room where Daniel died, where Jack chose to get his symbiote, where they saved Cassie and Sam and countless others, where they helped Teal’c

Janet was so strong, so wise

oh Daniel... I’m sorry 

It does but others don’t need to see it Daniel

Oh fuck I’ll be back after the memorial

its such a beautiful memorial

and Im glad they chose Sam to talk 

I’m gonna say some more in my final notes

its hard right now with the tears

I still think you’re an absolute arse, Saul

This was kinda sweet actually

oh they named the baby Janet

i’m never gonna stop crying 

Oh Jack

he’s so unimpressed

what a stupid way to end it

sorry but that was shit

Final thoughts

i genuinely hate these episodes. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever watch them again. Even with another watch through.. they’re not as well written or directed as other episodes, they’re unbelievable in the cannon of the show and breaks their own rules, not to mention the sheer heartbreak

Bregman is one of the most unlikeable characters in the show. If Simmons had of been alive he could have been in the episode too just to add to the trifecta of cunts!

Cassie should have been at the memorial

they make you think Jack is dead so we won’t worry about janet to what? make it more of a shock? because it doesn’t work. It should never have been designed to make us feel relief at Janet’s death because it wasn’t Jack! It doesn’t do her justice. 

Janet Fraiser was a smart woman with a massive heart. She was brave and strong and she cared for everyone even when they were arseholes. She had a bit of fun with SG1 sometimes too. She was an incredible Dr, mother and friend.  Janet was tiny but tough. Something that i aim for. I’m 5ft2 so basically the same as Janet and believe it or not i’ve had people question my ability to be a good teacher because noone will take me seriously. Janet always made me feel like people would take me seriously and that even though I’m small, I can do big things. She encouraged me to be a good person with a heart of gold. Her death hits really hard for that reason. but also because she was an incredible character who deserved more than what she was given. Hardly any screen time and then murdered to make some sort of point that didn’t need making??? Not to mention she’s mentioned twice in the next three seasons and when she “comes back” in Ripple Effect she spends almost no time with Sam which makes exactly 0 sense. 

Someone recently said they heard she was killed because the writers didn’t know how much more time they had and wanted to wrap some stuff up? Lets not forget that they made the end of this season a huge cliff hanger... but I’m still not sure what we could wrap up with her death? She had a fucking child!

Any way I won’t be watching this again. I’m sorry this isn’t much fun but hopefully you’ve got a giggle out of me swearing at the idiots 

I love you all for reading this and supporting me posts, they’re usually pretty fun to make honestly!

[bucky-iss-bae]

Little Miss CEO - (Billy Russo x Reader) - Part 2

Part 2 of Little Miss CEO - Hope you all enjoy as I said my writing needs a hella lot of improvement. I am reading it as I’m posting it but my eyes keep missing mistakes and I know the story already, but please tell me any feedback x 

Fandom: Marvels The Punisher

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 4000 ish (Sorry) 

Warnings: Swearing, cheating is mentioned, betrayal is mentioned, mentions of his scars x 

Summary: Billy and Y/N get set up by their friends, but they clash heads more than they get on. He thinks she’s a gold digger bitch and she thinks he’s Mr Obnoxious, are either of them, everyone else thinks that they’re too stubborn for their own good and probably get on.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy, any feedback is welcome x

Masterlist 

Little Miss CEO - Part One    

Little Miss CEO - Part Two 

“Sorry about Friday night,” Karen said to me on Sunday, both of us sat there with Wine and blankets, I had a long weekend at work, and have a long week ahead of me at work. Today I’ve stayed away from it all, but it won’t be the same for tomorrow.

“It was nothing. A warning would’ve been nice. But nothing that I couldn’t handle”

“Did... what did you think when he said where he works”

“Honestly. It just connected a few pieces. I didn’t have an opinion of him, but he gave himself his own rep so I don’t really care, why would I care?”

“He is nice. Just when you get used to his arrogance or know how to handle him”

I snorted, “Don’t plan on seeing the nice side of him anytime soon then”

“How was work yesterday?” she asked changing the subject.

I nodded, “It was good. Really good. Got a lot of big clients a lot of changes have been happening, just expanding really”

She smiled, “That’s good then. I’ve been trying to chase a few news stories. Small ones though. For the moment until there’s something radical that needs happening”

I laughed at that comment, “Wow, let's go cause some hell in New York City huh?”

“We’ll leave that to Frank yeah”

I smiled and shook my head, “So the dickhead from Friday is his best friend?”

“Yeah, they are. But I mean he is your type” She shrugged like it was nothing.  

I grimaced, “His personality is a bit of a turn-off. I mean everything else sure. His beard, fashion sense, he’s pretty attractive, it only takes someone so far though right?”

“So you’re not affected by his scars?” She asked.

I shook my head, “Should I be? You’ve seen my family, the guys I work with”

“Since that happened he’s had more insecurities. That’s why he’s got such high walls built around him”

“Makes sense. He treats you nicely though right?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent. He’s honestly so nice Y/N. I mean I think you two would be cute”

I nodded, “I also think I’d find a few matches on Tinder. Or better yet I’ll find a good match when I’m ready?” I suggested.

“Alright. I won’t say anything” She said sipping on her wine.

I thanked her and we carried on gossiping. I just hope I won’t be supporting a hangover tomorrow morning considering I’ve got to be up for 5am.

5am came and went. I had tonnes of paperwork to be doing in the office. Had different classes. Considering my experience and my teams experience we had a wide range of clients going from professional athletes to those who are willing to pay good money to get into shape. And let me tell you my results since day one have been phenomenal. As has every member of my team.

But another thing that involves a lot of paperwork is when other companies want to work alongside me, either sending their workers in and training them up. Or potential mergers, or just to help businesses grow.

“Miss Y/L/N you have a meeting today with the CEO of a security firm coming in at 1pm.”  My secretary said walking into my office, my office is actually really nice, you wouldn’t expect this building to be a gym, you wouldn’t expect this office to be someone’s office who initially started as a personal trainer.

“I’ve got it scheduled in. He hasn’t said much about who he is or what company he runs, I’m sure he’ll have a hell of a pitch though, all suits do”

She smiled, “I’ll call you when he’s here and send him in”

“Thanks hun” I smiled at her. I had showered from all my sessions this morning, got changed into some more, professional attire. My work was all organised now it’s a matter of getting on top of it.

“Miss Y/L/N, we’ve got Mr. Russo here from Anvil security here for you”

My eyes widened and I paused what I was doing, I looked up at her and tried my best to compose myself, she hadn’t completely opened the door, so shit I’ve got to compose myself and let him suffer.

“Bring him in,” I told her.

She bought him in and he thanked her with a charming smile and declined her offer of a drink before he turned around and faced me.

“You.” He said with a scowl forming fast on his face.

“Afternoon Mr Russo” I smiled at him whilst motioning towards the chair opposite me, “How can I help you today?”

“you didn’t say anything about running this place”

“No I was too busy being a gold digger” I shrugged,

“Shit” He grumbled whilst leaning his head back and running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it” He grumbled,

“You apologising because you’re realising I’m a potential client?” I asked him.

He stuttered a bit before answering, “Damn, you know you don’t have to be so upfront about it”

“I do though. I like to know what my client's motives are. I mean I know you’re an arrogant prick. But hey who knows you might change my mind”

“Will I though? You seem like someone pretty set in your ways”

“No... I mean as soon as I see someone’s true colours or what they can really get like I know that everything else I need to take with a pinch of salt. Until they convince me otherwise of course”

“So this. Right now is me convincing you otherwise?”

“We’ve been here for a minute, and you’ve already acted differently than you did in the space of two and a half hours”

“Well, this isn’t a set up first of all. I actually knew I had a meeting with someone I don’t know. But turns out I actually to briefly know you, let’s not forget, I fit your criteria of what you look for in a man. Maybe I can charm you and make you forget about Friday night?” He managed to turn into a smooth talker pretty quickly within the last couple of minutes.

I snorted at that, “See, the physicality’s of my type may have been pointed out. But, not the personality, I’m afraid you don’t fit that no matter how much you try to charm me. I mean you’re acting completely different than you did”

“I had a bad day Friday. Drinks were the last thing on my mind”

I nodded, “Alright Russo. You treat me with respect from here on out, business or not. Next time our best friends drag us to drinks. We respect one another. I’ll give you a chance alright”

“It couldn’t have been that easy to convince you”

“Oh no sweetie. You’ve not convinced me of anything just yet. I’m pushing that aside, and I’ll bring it up when I need to unless you make me realise there is a different side to you that isn’t driven through business and money. But instead a genuine side. Having a bad start with someone isn’t good. So we’re starting again. If you disrespect this until we do get to know one another then it’ll make me realise. If we’re good, then we’re good”

“I can see how you and Karen are best friends. Where did you meet?”

“I was one of her first friends when she moved here. How about you and Frank?”

“We met whilst serving. Became brothers, became family”

I nodded, “How about Curtis”

“Similar circuits. The three of us all have similar military pasts” He shrugged, “How did you end up starting this business then? I’ve seen your clients. Your partners, and I’m pretty sure what I know doesn’t begin to tell me what this business is about”

I rose my eyebrows and this is when we started talking business. Getting to know each other’s businesses, but also kind of getting to know one another.

“It looks pretty professional you know. Considering it’s an independent gym”

I smiled and stood up going to the window with him.

“It is professional. It's more than just a gym, it’s a lifestyle, a company to help people. I’m aiming to be the best in my business”

“I can see that. I didn’t realise that you were, or are so successful” He stated side eyeing me.

“So what, me being successful makes me a different person than I was a few nights ago”

“Nah. Seeing someone holding down a business like this, becoming successful on their own, it makes a difference because if someone were to look at you, they wouldn’t see a CEO instead a pretty face, but then you have obviously have a stronger personality that people would be intimidated of, I mean you put me in my place a few days ago” He shrugged,

I snorted, “Well, tell me what a CEO looks like and what I look like”

He smiled, “What do you think? What I also see is someone who isn’t stubborn or cocky like I thought, you’re headstrong. I assumed that you were someone that well you’re not”

I shook my head, “Being a new business, being a female, and being within the fitness industry, I have to be headstrong. I can’t let people walk all over me, what they know about me doesn’t concern me. It’s about what I know what I’m capable of, and the trust my team put in me”

“I can see that. I owe you an apology. I misjudged you. I assumed that you were someone who saw someone in an expensive suit and thought the way some girls do. But then I told you who I am. I probably did overreact but sat here with you today, you’ve not been scared, you’ve treated me with respect. Thank you for not judging me on what you know of my past”

I smiled at him, “Nah. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be scared of you. As much as you might try to be intimidating walking around with your fancy suit. It’s going to take a little to a little more than a few news stories to make me scared, especially if Karen trusts you. I mean you don’t seem as Arrogant as a few nights ago, that’s a good start”

“How about I make up for a few nights ago? This time I’ll pay for drinks?” He asked

I looked across at him with a smile on my face, “Is this what you do huh? Come in, charm me with your business plans and then take me for drinks? Is that your play... or is this still business?”

“Let's say it’s me taking advice off of my boy Frank”

“Uh huh? But I’m playing with you, as long as you pay this time I’m down”

“Thank you by the way. For covering my tab a few days ago”

“I ordered them, I didn’t mind paying for them. But, I was pissed at you and hoped to never see you again”

“That’s too bad for you then yeah?” he asked he a slight smirk on his face and amusement clear in his eyes.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be better company this time. We’ve managed to talk for the last hour”

“Let's be honest now. Business talk is different right?”

“That’s true. So where are we meeting after work then?”  

“The same bar as a few days ago?”

I nodded, “Sure, I’m sure Karen will be over the moon”

He let out a laugh, “Curtis and Frank are the same. After you left a few days ago, they said I would cave. But I mean goddamn, look at you.” He said eyeing me up.

I smiled and looked up at him, “I know I’ve got a pretty amazing body” I said cockily whilst letting out a laugh,

“Whether that was a joke or not on your behalf. I’m in no position to deny the truth”

My jaw dropped, “Ok cool. No this is stopping, so if we’re done, I’ll get my assistant to walk you out. And I’ll see you tonight yeah? And if you’re going to be all suited up again, I’m 100% sure I’ll feel underdressed”

“As long as you’re not in gym wear I’m sure you’ll be fine” he winked, “oh and I’ll get rid of the suit if you really want”

I smiled and he soon left.

I sat at my desk to realise, the same Billy Russo I was slating down, is actually a really bearable guy. I mean he has cocky jokes. He knows he’s good looking but the scars have really knocked his confidence. And I’m sure if I can peel back his personality a little more. Realise he’s not who he was a few nights ago, then I might actually like him and he might actually be my type. And that’s just tragic because it means Karen is right.

**

“So, where did you say you’re going tonight?” Karen asked,

She had a poker face, well aside from her eyes. She looks so excited but her lips were pursed together.

“To the bar. Listen, Karen, don’t. It was business anyway.”

“But he’s not that bad right?”

I nodded, “He’s alright. Doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten what he’s like though”

She sighed a dramatic sigh, “And when you’re both old and grey together, you’ll still be mad at him about that”

I shot her a glare, “Shut up weirdo. I’m not getting old and grey with anyone. Maybe you, that’s about it”

She snorted out a laugh at that, “Uh huh. Anyway, what you wearing for this date?”

“Um. It’s not a date. So anything”

She rolled her eyes but helped me pick out an outfit. It wasn’t over the top. It was going to a bar with a friend... an acquaintance.

I got a cab to the bar and felt so incredibly nervous, the main reason I got a cab because that means I can drink, and drinking means I’ll calm my nerves. I hope. I mean that’s one of two ways.

When I got there I hadn’t seen any sign of him and went to wait at the bar, getting myself a beer to start off with. I waited for about 10 minutes, thinking the dickhead had stood me up. I kept on checking my phone to see if I had gotten any messages off of him.

“Hey,” He said coming up to the other side of me, he wasn’t actually wearing a suit. Instead he wore a sweatshirt with a leather jacket on top. He looked different. Still incredibly good. But different.

“Was starting to think you stood me up, Russo. Thought you wanted to stay on my good side” I smirked.

He grinned, “Got caught up with a few things”

“Was it choosing your outfit. Surprised that you had anything that wasn’t a suit” I grinned

He started to laugh at that, “It was difficult. Finding something to wear. How long have you been here?” He asked changing the subject,

“Not long, about 10-15 minutes.”

“Sorry” He said whilst sitting beside me, “What you drinking?” He asked me, he then ordered himself a drink, and the two of us started talking last week Friday hadn’t happened.

I don’t know why I was nervous at the start. I mean this morning I was fine. But that was business, Friday, I didn’t know him, he was an obnoxious prick. Today. I don’t know if he’s himself, but this seems like the most real side of him.

He was funny, he was nice, and this isn’t a date but we were sat there laughing and getting to know one another. He told me about how longs he’s known Frank, how long he served. Heck he even got as deep as his childhood. And that is some deep stuff. I told him about myself, my family and life and it was nice talking to him. I did get to know him and it was different in comparison to Friday. He wasn’t so strung up.

“I’ve actually really enjoyed tonight,” I told him with a smile, “But then again considering I had Friday to go on, I’m sure nearly anything would’ve been better”

He started to laugh, “you’re not letting that go any time soon are you?”

“Oh hell no. You’ll always be Franks rude friend who made assumptions on someone and then regretted it when you walked into their office”

“Nah, I regretted it when you left. Frank kind of gave me a lecture, told me that you wasn’t like well, that you’re not a hoe, someone who goes after people for their money or their looks. Not like I have much of that left anyway”

I snorted at that, “We both know that you’ve still got your looks alright”

He rose his eyebrows, “Wow, you really think I do huh?”

I shrugged, “I’ve got eyes. Of course, I do. I mean you’ve even lived up to having a good personality today”

He huffed out a laugh and looked around, “Thank you. Call me vain, or conceited, but since all this has happened. I know I’m not as good looking as I one was”

“Maybe then, do you realise its literally a personality that matters.” I reminded him, “Like someone can look the part, they can have a full bank account, but if they have a shit personality then well they’ve got nothing really”

He smiled at that, “Growing up, that was what mattered. You learned to know people for who they really are. I learnt the hard way. But I still learnt.”

“Learning the hard way makes you question everything” I grimaced,

“Why do you say that?” He asked me,

I shrugged, “I’ve always had the perception that most men are only after one thing. That they’re essentially scum. I have my reasons. But still... fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.”

“Someone fucked you over?” He asked.

I nodded, “it was years ago, but it makes me question someone's motives, makes me question any friendship I have. You can ask Karen. My ex-best friend and an ex of mine went behind my back. I caught them once, was kind of confused, was easily manipulated, was dumb as fuck, and well, the second time I snapped. Shouldn’t have stayed in contact with either of them. But now, they’re still together, whenever I go back to my old neighbourhood, they’re stuck I guess. They live from paycheck to paycheck. They’re struggling. We still have mutual friends and I hear enough, but it still makes me second guess not only friendships but also relationships. Like how am I going to get fucked over this time, will my best friend go and sleep with my boyfriend and will I be made a joke out of”

He grimaced and looked a little pissed at what I said, “Neither of them deserved you. You should be proud at how far you’ve come”

I nodded, “He didn’t support anything I did. Nor did she really. Called me stupid for having a dream, a few years later, I’m making big bucks, happy with my lifestyle. Happy with the amount of money I’m making happy with what I do. It was literally my dream, and she, I respect what she does but she’s a nurse, works in the same hospital as my sister does.”

“Have you spoken to either of them since well you left?”

I nodded, “Yeah. Kind of. I see them around sometimes. Mutual friends, birthdays, baby showers, weddings. All that shit”

“Damn, all your friends on that part of life huh?”

“Yeah, I mean a lot of them are either childhood sweethearts. Or I don’t know, my lifestyle is different from theirs. I grew up differently to them. My first priority was raising my siblings. So I’ve done what they’ve done just differently”

“Damn, so it’s more like everyone gets on with their own lives?”

I nodded, “I’ve got my main girl. That’s all I need”

“Yeah, that’s Frank and Curtis for me. Sometimes big groups. It doesn’t settle well”

I snorted at that, “Trust me it doesn’t. I mean I told you what happened, all of my friends and his friends knew. I was basically a joke. But this I found out after the second time, then learnt they had all known from the beginning. So that’s tragic, it’s better to keep smaller circles sometimes”

“That’s pretty shit on a trust level. These people were supposed to be your friends but sometimes these things can fuck you up for real”

I nodded, “I’ve grown from it, I’ll say that”

“Your brothers ever fuck him up?” He asked,

“I don’t know. But a few days later. Someone threw a brick into his car, and well really fucked up his car, then another day someone broke into his house, police tried to pin it on me because all of my stuff was missing from there. I didn’t do it by the way, but still they, whoever done that kept scaring him and her for a while until well. I told them to stop and it wasn’t worth it”

“So you know who done all of this?” Billy had a massive smirk on his face, “I give respect to whoever fucked up that guy's place”

I shook my head with a smile of my own, “Honestly I’ve not been in a relationship since. They try to use it against me I guess. But then I drive away in my car that’s worth more than their house so it’s all good”

Billy full on started laughing at this, “Wow. I can’t even say anything bad against that.”

I shrugged, “Its life. They peaked in their late teens early twenties, I peaked in my mid-twenties”

“Well, I think, I think I peaked when I was in the Marines. But then, I had a downfall, as you can tell” He said motioning to his face, “But after everything that happened I’m trying to build my life up again”

“You had a big fall didn’t you?”

“My past caught up with me. I mean at least I’m not pretty boy Billy anymore” He had a grimace on his face but shook his head, “Basically. I’ve sorted out all the bad from my past. And I also realised at a young age to never let anyone screw me over I guess”

“You really hate them don’t you?” I asked him, “Your scars?”

“Yes and no. I feel like they’re a reminder of my past. Whenever I look at myself I see the person I once was, but then I’m happy that I’ve also got these scars to remind me of how far I’ve come and the shit I’ve gone through.”

“That’s a positive outlook on it” I nodded whilst taking a sip of my drink.

He gave a bitter laugh at that, “Well, you can only be negative for so long. I kid you not, you’ve got me at a good stage in my life”

I smiled at that, “Same. But good, I’m happy that I have. Hopefully, It’ll be good here on out huh?”

“Well, considering the path I’ve taken, I want to say the same. But it’ll be a rocky one”

“Yeah? Whys that?”

He smirked at me, and leaned back, “Well, Y/N, that’s a story for another time”

“Another time huh?” I asked him squinting my eyes at him and a teasing smile on my face.

“What about an official date? Friday night?” He asked giving me a hopeful look.

I pursed my lips and nodded, “Alright Russo. You wanna pick me up at 8 then?” I asked him.

He smiled at that, and we agreed that he’ll pick me up at 8. We both caught the same taxi back, I got to mine first, I said bye, and let me say I was pleasantly surprised with how the evening had gone.

Little Miss CEO Part 3

**

Tagged List for ‘Little Miss CEO’ 

@thebabblingbookworm  @bilesxbilinskixlahey   @utterlyhopeful​

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(If you want to send in any requests please to at any time and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can my loves x - Fandom List ) 

Thank you so much honestly, anyone, who reads this I appreciate you so so much and whoever likes it please anything would make my day x  

[autismgavemychildvaccines]

ALRIGHT YE WEE FUCKSTICKS

I’m a little upset by an earlier posts that regarded having to ration insulin or dying from diabetes sans insulin is a violent act. And not for it being wrong; It’s not. I’ve been an EMT. I’ve watched people die. More than once. And it never was fucking peaceful. At the body level, the body fucking fights death, y’all. Unless that person is totally 100% ready to yeet off this mortal coil, even if the mind is out, that body still fucking tries its best, and by God it’s a violent struggle. A struggle that in way too many goddamn cases, it loses. Not because it fucking needed to, but because we, the medical and public health and national community has deemed it fucking so. And for that, to anyone who has lost anyone due to health inequity, I apologize. We all fucking failed you. And we’ll probably keep fucking failing you, despite our best efforts.  Actually, you want to ride down this lane with me for a minute? Because I got shit to show you. You see, I work in a very specialized field in Public Health. Basically, should the worst happen, should a pandemic rise, or tonnes of ashes fall, me and a small team of people are expected to lead any and all efforts to keep your asses alive, whether from a command center or in the field. And we (mostly, still government work after all) work our asses off to try to make sure we’re ready for that day, or week, or several fucking month period, every day. Well, more realistically, every grant cycle. Because that’s what we’re expected to perform on. We don’t think 10 or 20 or 50 years ahead in any realistic sense outside of natural disaster scenarios (which will be worsened by climate change, Katrina bout to get a goddamn sister in fuckin Alaska, y’all, and she aint gonna be fucking around either). No no, we think every 5 years, and then down to every year. And then down to every quarter. We think about tabletop exercises and full scale exercises. Which, don’t get me wrong, are crucial to learning how people will react in roles or what sort of logistical hurdles you’ll face in a fuck-all environment. We think about project periods. And here’s the thing with that short term view. It robs people of health equality, and health equity. Think about it. What if there was a district or city of county or state that went “Hey, we want to hire 3 disaster epidemiologists to do a comprehensive risk assessment and determine long term risks to the community, then we want to use some funding to help address those problems?” Well, that’s fucking neato, kiddo, but aside from having to essentially rejustify their reason for hiring these folks and doing their project (which to the discretion of some disconnected desk jockey, could be modified and fucked with) every basically 3 months? And what if those reporting situations took up 25-50% of their time? Aint that a motherfucker? Aint that a waste of time and money? Oh, and speaking of money.... I forgot. You know how much money as a state or territory you’re given on average for getting both themselves and healthcare facilities ready for some crazy shit? $8,000,000. For a lot of states, that comes to less than a dollar per fucking resident. And those states can keep at max 12% of that to cover the costs of grant administration, program work, and actual, you know PUBLIC HEALTH WORK AT A STATE LEVEL INCLUDING GETTING READY FOR RUSSIA TO BUST AN ATOMIC NUT OR A FUCKING HURRICANE TO GO “LEMME SEE DAT ASS, BOI”. And local health departments get funding b based off of a raw population model. So a big city who couldn’t expect to help everyone in their county with all $8mil might get like, $750,000. And a small county of 9 or 10,000 people might get $3 per person. And like. I know it’s not all the funding we realistically get. We can kind of 3 card monty the grant game and squeak by every year with a bit more than what’s above, but never by too much. But look. No matter how that dollar depreciates, we still can only work with what we’re allowed by elected officials at the federal level decided was a good idea. We have to pay salaries to keep people able to do this fucking grant work, we have to pay for all our time reporting and filing paperwork to “prove we did something public health related”. And all that time, we’re doing that instead of going out there and making results happen.  With more time, we could do that. With more funding we could do that, as we could get more help. That would end up meaning better response and recovery work, and more preparedness and mitigation work, meaning overall less death due to disaster or health inequity at large, as one could argue that those who can’t afford to stay alive is in fact a public health emergency. Funny, I bet we could actually say that if we had even the smallest glimmer of hope to solve it and not just look like fucking idiots with all the mouthing off, none of the fucking solutions.  But look, what I’m getting at is this. Health Inequity is not just violent; It’s fucking warfare, y’all. We can fund programs to end this kind of shit. We’re rich enough as a country to, and honestly with coordinated effort, all of the world could prevent a shitload of preventable diseases. Doing that would be merciful, kind, respectful, and compassionate. But we refuse. We let other people die, because someone has forced their will upon us that we should sacrifice you, the poor, to a fucking idol whose head is that of our first president. And the b**** of it is, if they don’t get you by paying up until your dry and die, then some other group will get you by finding it more profitable to let your community flood than to do what is right.  TL;DR: Public Health and the Health system in general are fucked, and we are sorry, but we were beat down by the fucking stingy ass, would rather bail out banks for billions than save entire populations for millions ass bureaucrats, and greedy ass CEOs that gut any ability for tackling relatively easy problems.  I want Equity. I want Equality. And I want help.  

[geeangel]

this was supposed to be like 2 sentences whoops

dont get me wrong... im very excited for luigis mansion 3 (working title) and Animal Crossing 2019 (srs no title drops tho?) but uh............ nice ports?

idk do we need to re-release wii games on the 3ds? i understand the angle nintendo has with the wiiu games, the console sold like shit and not many ppl got one so theyre bringing a lot of good games to a new market but...... its all fucking ports rn. and imo we DONT need ds-->3ds ports period lol. like that was just last gen for their handhelds. what abt all the bitchin gba games? i guess maybe they dont know what to do stylistically with pixel art games in a “remastered HD 1080p60fps LIMITED EDITION featuring DANTE from Devil May Cry”

i mean you know where they COULD sell gb/a games??? heres a hint: nintendo has ALREADY done this on 3 previous consoles.. hmmmmmmm.. AHA!!!! THATS IT!!! we charge people $35 CAD a year so they can play from a selection of 29 NES titles!!!! thats what people want right??? they want to pay  $35 dollars to play 20 29 of our TOP games from 35 YEARS AGO

but be real how many of you have played minish cap? that game is BOMB and i know a lot of zelda fans whove never touched it (same for gb zelda games but thats a diff story) the gb/a was really one off my first consoles and i loved it to death. i think i played more gba games on my ds lite than ds games and i missed out on a TONNE of good games

like i know this wasnt meant to b a massive direct and i wasnt expecting a lot from it but.... it was just a whole lot of ports & remasters which is... fine but the switch market is just going to be flooded with them and it makes me sort of worry for the future of its library

and i thought this when it was announced but. pokemon lets go eeveechu is like the lamest thing ever. fire red and leaf green were great remakes imo but oh huh looks like were not making money off of gen 1 pokemon games anymore since we made them legally unattainable unless youre willing to pay for the original/remake cart and a working gb/a to play it on and well we dont make any money from THOSE sales BETTER RE-RE-RELEASE IT WITH A SPECIAL BUNDLE AND A $65 CAD POKEBALL (at least that switch actually looks nice. that smash ultimate bundle was BORING AF)

idk i think ppl feed too much into nintendo hype and cream themselves over PENDING TITLES with NO FINISHED IN GAME FOOTAGE

also NOTHING ON PRIME 4????????????? U WANT ME DO DIE?????

[xdawndragonx]

Pikapuff's Backstory

@pikapuff @dramaticmari

For the Villains! AU

Tia was actually a very kind and sweet girl before becoming a villain.

When she was born, she was a special child that had been diagnosed with the "Quirk" gene for a select few evolving humans. Special, gifted humans.

Because of this, Tia was, at first, actually incredibly popular in school. From Nursery (Kindergarten), to the few beginnings of Primary (Second Grade).

But her popularity began to shrink downward after that joyous amount of time, for you see, Tia's quirk began to manifest as a very special type of transformation quirk, and the only way she would be able to aquire it would be by blood ingestion.

This scared many of her friends off, and they began to avoid the poor girl out of fear, hate and disgust.

She just didn't know what when wrong in her life.

People would write hidious phrases like "I hope you get aids" as well as "I bet you're lying that you have to get blood for your quirk so you can hurt us." Onto her desk during times in which she wasn't there to watch it. So, she developed the habit of just drawing on some spare scraps of paper and scrapbooking them into a small scrapbook, sitting at her desk the whole entire time.

Tia herself, remained kind inside. She was, however, slowly breaking down to depression. The cycle of abuse would continue as she walked around the hallways, listening to people call her "Freak", "Rabid dog" and even "Blood-sucking wrench" behind her back.

As she grew more, more and more friends began to leave her, giving half-hearted excuses as to why. And Tia knew that they weren't true herself. She was dumbstruck at how her friends could just lie to her like that.

She snapped. She changed. She was bitter and had a blank expression now.

All of them left her. All except one.

Alex. That was the name of the friend that still hadn't left her yet. Just the thought of that one last friend sent Tia smiling. They had met before Tia even became popular for her quirk, and had the most tightened bond two friends could have.

Alex was Tia's salvation. Alex kept Tia sweet inside. Alex kept Tia sane.

With Alex being the only reason Tia was still willing to get out of bed to go to school, the small girl slowly began to become more and more infatuated with her and before she knew it, she had fallen in love.

But, alas, tragedy struck.

Alex had a crush, and Tia was certain that the person Alex loved wasn't her.

"Alex, people are going around saying that you like Daniel at school... Is this true?"

"Wha-? Who told you that? Haha, silly you Tia, I like someone who's tonnes more cuter than Daniel."

"But Daniel's the cutest boy in class! Who could you possibly like?"

"Well, they're cute, sweet, determined as ever and always persevering through hard times. I really idolise them and they're super cool. They so good at drawing, being funny and I really, really like them."

Tia's world shattered with that conversation. Being friends with Alex just wasn't enough anymore. She wanted to be more. She needed more to continue living. Alex's description on who she liked didn't sound like a tad like her. And so...

"I'll become what you like. Wait for me Alex. I'll come to you and we'll both be able to escape this place."

Tia? Who was Tia? She was Alex's lover. Forever together. Always.

Tia began to break several school rules. Never caught though as they were always performed sneakily.

She'd go to the infirmary to sneak in some blood samples during Lunch. Even though she usually never left Alex's side, Tia had to make this sacrifice for her love.

She turned into many other children, boys, girls. She tried to use their forms to see if they were the one that Alex liked so much. All of the attempts failed, for Alex didn't seem to have interest with any of them.

After getting frustrated, Tia had thrown a tantrum in the Infirmary, to let off some steam. She smashed the glass containers of Painkillers and left the section of blood samples open in plain sight. She ripped up student documents and cried all the while, blotching the ink on the papers.

"Why won't she just love me?"

And then, she got caught.

It never crossed her mind that she might have gone mad, insane. Crazy.

Nothing about the true roots of why she threw that tantrum was reported about her, but she was excluded from her school after messing up so badly. All they reported was how Tia's power was incredibly dangerous. It was actually well received by her parents as they dispised the school after letting all the bullying happen to their child.

Of course, not many people cared about her exclusion. But Alex did.

"Tia! Are you okay?! How did you get excluded?!"

"Calm down Alex. I'm fine! Really. The teachers just decided my Quirk was too dangerous... So they finally kicked me to the curb."

"Urgh! Those ungrateful scum! I'll make them pay!"

"No don't get yourself in trouble Alex!"

"Why not!? They've hurt you so much for just having a stupid power that's not even that useful!"

"It's okay now Alex, really. As long as you're with me, I'll be fine."

"... Promise me Tia?"

"Pinkie-promise."

Years later, Tia and Alex still talked with each other. Now, they were both in Secondary (Middle School).

Even so, in her new school, Tia was barely around. She skipped most of her school days and wandered around Town instead.

One day, while wondering around Town, Tia found the cutest little ring-blade she had ever seen. It was a ring that had a flower's print pattern, but also had a button on the underside on which her finger laid. With a hard push downward, a think, small, spike would pop up from the ring.

It was perfect for her quirk. Perfect for winning Alex's heart.

The only bad thing was that it was being sold at a Black Market store.

She went in disguised as a 34 year old man who had tattoos covering a majority of his body. Said tattoos screamed of "Beware", simply the perfect candidate for doing so.

"I'd like to buy this ring."

"Pfft. Why? For a girl I'm guessing?"

"N- Yes. I'm gettin' it for my girl who also in the gang. Extra protection."

"Hahaha, you don't do a very good job of lying."

"What? Wait, how did you-"

"So you were lying. I didn't think the trick would work on you. You aren't what you seem, aren't ya?"

"Hmph, I should of known... Fine. I'll reveal myself but only if you don't judge me.

"Deal-"

...

"You're a quirk wielder? Hmmm- Pretty good at your crafts for being a small schoolgirl."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, give me that ring. I'll buy it fair and square."

"Hmm.. Quite a strange choice for a young girl, but then again, I won't judge. Pay up and you'll get what you want. And, why do you want this anyway? Strange one you are."

"It will help my Quirk. In order to transform into someone else I need to consume blood. That will help me get blood quicker in a more discrete way."

"Ah... I see... How old are you?"

"Ha. Like I'd tell you."

"Smart one."

"Flattery gets you no where. Only Alex will have my heart."

"Oh?"

"Shit, shouldn't of said that. Here, just take the money."

"Hmm... I think I like you. Say, you said that your heart belongs to a little someone, right?"

"Don't just call Alex "someone"! She's kind, perfect, so beautiful and honest... If I was the Moon, she'd be the Sun! You shouldn't even say her name."

"Yeah yeah right. Lemme guess, you and Alex aren't a couple, aren't you?"

"W-Wait, what?"

"I knew by how you described her, you're very protective of this person and if you really were together, your description of her would be much less... Idolised."

"Hmph, stop wasting my time and give me the ring already, the money is on the table."

"Nu-uh-uh~ You're not getting this yet."

"Why not? I need that ring!"

"Hm... How about this then? I'll let you work for me. I don't care about your age but your Quirk power... It is very, very powerful, not to mention useful. I'll make sure you get paid and work hours can be fit to your schedule. To top it off... I'll give you training so this girl you like so bad can finally love you, plus that ring for free. All you have to do is come here for a little on weekends so you can meet your work partners, then you've got the job."

...

"Deal."

"Pleasure doing business with you."

Ring. Ring.

Now, Tia works for "heLPless". A squadron of mix and matched villains that all have different ambitions and types of evil within them. Tia isn't as bad as some of the people in the group. She stays happy and is close to many of the younger members of the group. She still has a healthy relationship with Alex and is beginning to try going back to school.

"I'll get you soon Alex, once I can finally win your heart I will leave this nest and fly with you, free."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AhaaA. I HOPE YOU LIKED THAT TIA! I'll fix it up if you don't like some parts! I hope you like it!;;;; ówò

-Sem/Dawn out~

[bohomouse]

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Is it normal, to list things you hate about the opposite sex, on a first date? I rock up to the coffee club, and before I sit down, he greets me with "God, I hate it when women wear tonnes of makeup. I like that you came here without makeup 😉 I think its cute to Actually see a pimple." I exclaimed, "Shit !! I missed a spot !!" This dickweed doesn't even pay for my onion and garlic sandwich. When that happened, I felt it was time to list the things I don't like about men: ...ahem... ▪ They make more money then me... ...pay for my Fucking SANDWICH !! It is a crock of shit, when a stranger tells you he HATES you because of eyeshadow, lipstick and foundation (Hates you... like you hate hitler and voldemort kindof hatred...), and thinks that a little compliment would smooth things over. "You're beautiful. Babe, you are Gorgeous !!" As if these words will turn me into a blushing southern belle, fanning myself, saying, "Well bless my stars, you think I'm pretty. You completely shit on my WHOLE gender, but you think I'm pretty. Oh my, oh my !! Take me in your glistening, muscled arms. Take me away !!" By the end, I awkwardly declare that I have to leave, for reasons... As I walked out, I thought to myself 'this is the perfect opportunity to flip him off'. So I turned, raised my arm, flipped the birdy, then I proceeded to apologise to the old lady whom walked up behind me... the worse part was I screamed "C**t !!" before I noticed her 😅😅 And that's my Valentine's story ❤❤ @art #bohomouse #sarahjones #humor #artistsofinstagram #instaart #instaartist #funny #comedy #humour #funnyshit #instavid #funnyvideos #artist #hilarious #comedian #thinkpositive #aussiesofinstagram #psycho #pinup #funnygirl #😉 #😂 #bohemian #rant #pissed #stupid #mad #tinderfail #fail #valentines (at Townsville, Queensland)

[gaiatheorist]

Testing boundaries.

OK, I did it, I went ‘out’. No big deal for most people, but I’m not most people. I’m socially awkward, and have, historically, had a tendency to get catastrophically drunk, to avoid just lurking in the corner, like an unwanted ginger standard-lamp. As it turns out, I don’t ‘need’ the booze, which was fortunate, because it was quite expensive.

I’d seen the ‘flyer’ for the Twitter meet-up a few weeks ago, and just dismissed it with “Can’t go.”, because it was 2 hours travel away, and an unnecessary expenditure. Some time on Thursday, I’m not entirely sure when, I started looking at train-prices, and dabbling in the arena of ‘could go, if...’ That’s abnormal behaviour for me, and I’m still not entirely certain whether it was turning-away-from this episode of poor emotional well-being, or holding my nose, and jumping straight into it.

Crowds freak me out, unfamiliar locations make me uneasy, I don’t cope well with excessive noise, flashing lights, and the proximity of unknown-people. I know, let’s travel to another city, alone, and spend a few hours in a pub, with a bunch of strangers! Add to that the facts that I’m probably more neurotic-protective than most, and never really went ‘out’ much on my own for 20 years, and my anxiety probably burned off the three glasses of wine before I eventually threw myself back in through my front door. (Without falling out of the taxi, which I did last time I was ‘out’. No, for anyone familiar with my back-story, or PIP-assessors, I didn’t fall off the toilet, either.) 

Yesterday, I went ‘out’, this waffly-blog is likely to be the very dull story of how I didn’t get murdered, or wake up in a gutter with my pants on inside-out. I know I ‘should’ have saved the money I drew out of the cash-point, but, in my off-centre logic, it was ‘spare’ money, left over from last month’s salary, and I virtually never do anything for myself. (Yes, there was a really weird side-thought about ‘What if the washing machine breaks, and I have to do my laundry in the bath for a month?’ I wouldn’t be doing my laundry in the bath, washing machines are relatively easy to reverse-diagnostic repair.) Welcome to the less than wonderful world of ‘What if?’

First up “What if somebody takes a photo, and I look half-dead?” Well, that’s easy, I DO look half-dead, but I tend to dye my roots on pay-day anyway, so I’ll at least look less like I’ve walked through cobwebs if I do show up in the background of someone else’s photo. I’m not ‘big’ Twitter, nobody’s going to want to snap a selfie with me to prove they’ve met me.

Next, “I have NOTHING to wear.” Don’t be an idiot, you have cupboards full of clothes, as was demonstrated by pulling EVERYTHING out of said cupboards, and raging at myself for putting things ‘out of the way’ instead of ‘away’. I’d wanted a particular top, I’m not as emaciated as I was this time last year, but I didn’t want the glockenspiel look, people have a tendency to try to make you eat pies when they can see your ribs, and if you complain that wheat doesn’t suit you, the automatic assumption is an eating disorder. I’m a pain in my own arse, because once I’d found ‘that’ top, I decided I didn’t want to wear it, and settled on another one. 

“Is that going to be enough money?” It’s going to have to be, and that will ensure you don’t go overboard with the drinks. (Half-grinning, because it turned out to be exactly the right amount of money to cover my slight miscalculation.) 

“Where’s my make-up?” Ah, remember when you threw a tizz about the ‘expectation’ that women should tart themselves up, and smear tonnes of crap on their faces to be deemed acceptable? Remember your ‘refusing to be aesthetically objectified’ tantrum, when you threw the make-up in the bin? It’s in the bin. Your entire make-up collection now consists of the one mascara that hasn’t completely dried out, a black eyeliner pencil that needs sharpening, and the boy has had off with the sharpener, and several red lipsticks. Challenging.

“Why is my hair so shit? Why won’t it behave?” It’s shit because you’re overwhelmingly stressed, which in turn leads to you not eating properly, the combination of stress and poor diet is responsible for the fragile hair, and the hair-loss. It won’t ‘behave’ because it’s part of you, it is ‘behaving’ entirely as it always does, which is like a dead ginger mop. (Interesting couple of minutes on the train, where I realised I’d used some gel the boy had left here to stop the frizzy-cloud effect, but not scrunched it through, leading to stiff tendrils here and there, and a very difficult to manage urge to shout “It’s not spunk!”)

“What if I miss the train?” Just get the next one, you nine-tonne mega-idiot, you’ve already allowed additional time for when you invariably get lost. “What if there are no seats on the train?” In that case, you’ll regret wearing five inch heels a bit sooner, won’t you? “What if I get on the WRONG train?” Seriously? This was getting tedious, bearing in mind I hadn’t even left the house. Occam’s razor is applied to my thought process even less often than razors are applied to my skin. I’m Stig of the Dump, and I ALWAYS start at the most ridiculous-unlikely, and work my way back from there. I’ve generally completely forgotten what the ‘problem’ was, by the time I’ve explored all the disturbing tangents my brain likes to send me off on. “What if I trip over something?” can very quickly morph into “What if I’m murdered, I don’t think I closed the living room curtains, and next door will assume I’m ‘in’, and nobody will realise I’m missing.”

Given the cyclic nature of my peculiar anxieties, and the fact that I’d imagined myself murdered and dumped in the canal about seventeen times before I even put my impractical boots on, the logical thing to do would have been not to go. I’m not logical, and I’d set myself the ‘task’ of travelling, alone, from the arse-end-of-nowhere to Leeds, having a couple of drinks with a load of strangers, and then finding my way back without my head being discovered in a bin, and my body only being identifiable by my tattoos. No, I don’t know why, either.

Neurotic-protective. I’d let different people know where I was going, which is awkward, because of the cross-over. I was ‘going’ as @GaiaTheorist but I’d also notified two real-world people, and alluded to my plans on my tiny, locked Twitter account. (Not Fakebook, though, the ex is on there, and the boy would flip shit if he knew I was trotting off out unsupervised. Oh, and there’s the “Well, she can’t be THAT ill if she can go out!” tangent.) Welcome to the messy web that is me, remembering to use the hashtag on the Gaia Twitter so I could be ‘tracked’, but not mentioning the # on my quiet-Twitter in case I was cross-referenced-outed. I’m like a really shit James Bond.

I set off earlier than I’d originally intended, and stood, freezing cold, wearing make-up in the day-time at the bus stop. (DID I lock the door?) The USB charger-point on the bus didn’t actually increase the battery-power on my phone, because I kept flicking between screens, checking routes that I knew I wouldn’t remember. (What if the battery completely dies?) Two kids on the bus appeared to be having a game of “Who can make the most annoying noise?”, and I had an intense desire to bang their heads together. The man on the seat in front of me for half of the journey had appalling body odour, and I could smell wee from somewhere else. I realised I’d forgotten to put any painkillers in my bag, and hoped that I wouldn’t have to use the hospital codeine, that’s probably expired by now.

The reason for setting off early was to make sure I didn’t get stuck in a queue for the automated train-ticket machine. I didn’t actually know where the ticket machines were, and had a bit of a panic about “What if I buy the wrong ticket, or the machine over-charges me?” I walked into the ticket-office instead, and managed to ask the man behind the counter for the right ticket. No biggie for most people, but, when I’m anxious, I sometimes muddle my words. I was anxious. I didn’t however end up with a yearly Oyster card or anything, so that’s a bonus. I’d also set off early so I could empty my bladder in the interchange toilets. I’d already walked past the toilets, and my fucking stupid head won’t let me ‘walk backwards’. I was half an hour early for the train, standing outside, in the cold, concentrating so hard on not ‘jiggling’ because I sort-of needed a wee that my thigh decided to do that weird tremble-spasm thing it does sometimes. Nice. In those heels, I’m a touch over 6ft, I’d just re-dyed my hair a fairly intense shade of auburn, I was wearing scarlet lipstick and heavy eyeliner, and my leg wouldn’t stop shaking. I had sufficient personal space.

Train. OK, there are seats, so I wouldn’t have to stand for an hour and four minutes, with my left thigh having its own personal disco, I also didn’t use the toilet on the train, due to five inch heels, and the aforementioned disobedient thigh. About ten minutes before Leeds, I found all the stiff bits in my hair, the person behind me might have thought I had headlice with all the fluffing and scrunching going on. (I’m SO 1990s, ‘scrunching’ my hair is still pretty much the only thing I do to it.)

Train station. In a very boring aside, the last time I alighted from a train in Leeds, I walked in the wrong direction for 20 minutes, completely lost, and alone, in a city I didn’t know. It was bad enough then, when I was trying to find a training venue in the daylight, it was dark by the time I hit Leeds, and I was wearing heels and lipstick. I excelled myself by getting lost IN the bus station, which didn’t help with the general panic situation. That tripped-out to me not text-messaging the person I was going to contact, because I ‘had to’ save my phone battery for emergencies. I’m a knob. After several laps around the train station, becoming increasingly aware that 5-inch heels don’t make stairs or escalators easy, I found the right exit. I also ‘found’ a probable homeless man, who offered me the use of his cigarette lighter. Then he asked me if I had a boyfriend. Of COURSE I do. Would I go out with him if I didn’t have a boyfriend? Well, I couldn’t answer that, because I DO have a boyfriend, but thank you very much for the light. Yes, I have a spare cigarette for you. Yes, enjoy your evening too, I’m going to meet some friends now. At that point, I pulled a ballpoint pen out of my bag, and stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans, in case of needing to stab sex fiends/muggers in the eye. Off I strutted, in my impractical heels, with my imaginary boyfriend. In the wrong direction.

I don’t know Leeds at all. I had a vague idea of where I should be going, but I have no sense of direction, and irrational anxiety about being mugged for my phone, so I’d wandered about, trying not to look lost for a while before I caved in, and tried to get Google maps to work. I CAN read a map, but reading a map in stilettos, on cobbles, while you’re having a massive panic about being mugged for your phone is a whole different kettle of fish. I’d saved the photos of the maps on my phone in case I didn’t have enough signal for Google maps, but a static map is only any use if you know which direction you’re walking in, and I didn’t. I managed to get the voice-directions working on Google maps, but couldn’t really hear it over the traffic, cursing myself for not bringing the earphones, but aware that wearing earphones, on your own, in the dark, makes you more vulnerable to muggers, sex-pests, and people who might cut your head off and put it in a bin. I then had an irrational burst of anger at the bits of the instructions I could hear “Walk east...” Which way is east? The sun had already set, so I couldn’t walk away from west to ascertain east. There’s a compass feature on the phone, but that would mean coming out of the ‘map’ app. I had many strange and interesting things in my bag, but not a compass, I only went to Brownies twice, remember?

I found the bar about half an hour before the thing was scheduled to start, and ‘stuck’. I accidentally tweeted a photo of the outside of the bar on the wrong account, in a desperate “Somebody come out and get me?” panic, and then deleted the bloody thing, because I like my quiet Twitter as it is. I didn’t know if I ‘could’ go into the bar before the thing was due to start, so I stood outside, like an absolute pillock, absolutely resolute that I WASN’T going into another bar to sit on my own with a drink, in case someone mistook me for a prostitute. So I stood on a street corner. Like a prostitute.

I eventually made my stupid legs take me inside the bar, and realised I didn’t ‘know’ anyone in there. Well, of course I didn’t not everyone has their face as their avi, do they, and the ‘function’ was in a back area. 17 million people pushed in front of me at the bar, and, when I eventually was served, I didn’t count the change from my allocated £20 for drinks, but it looked like a glass of wine was over £6. (I’m SO Yorkshire-stingy.) Shitsticks, not counting fire-escapes, that I’d have no idea where they came out, there was only one entrance/exit, which disturbed my not-claustrophobia PTSD ‘knowing where the exits are’ thing, and would have led to a panic-loop if I didn’t MOVE.

I moved. I found the event organiser, and introduced myself with “See my comfort zone? It’s all the way back over there.” I babble when I’m anxious, and I was very anxious. I wrote my @-name on a sticky label, and wondered where to put it, not wanting to draw attention to my ‘impressive rack’, but the alternative being my forehead. Then I stood in a corner, like a 6ft ginger spider. Some boys rescued me, and I didn’t realise I was talking to a man I’d followed, and interacted with for years, because I didn’t want to stare at his sticky-label. I drank my wine slowly, because I was only ‘allowing’ myself two drinks, then had a minor panic about ‘spacing’ alcoholic drinks with non-alcoholic ones, and wetting myself on the train home, which was lovely. 

Other than Venus’ funeral, that was the first Tweet-up thing I’d been to. Contrary to popular misconception, we didn’t all stand about staring at our phones, but it was still weird. Not in a bad way, in an “Oh, I don’t think I follow you, do you know so-and-so?” way. Pointless fact about me: when placed in a situation where I feel uncomfortable, my default-setting is to make it MORE uncomfortable, which makes the initial uncomfortable-thing more bearable. I used to think that was the alcohol-impulsivity, that would often see me presenting strangers with teaspoons, sweets, or all manner of jumble from my bag, but it’s not, it’s just ‘me’. By the time the only other person there I’d ever met arrived, and asked me to hold her cut-out-ferrets-on-a-stick, and her drink, I’d already produced a neon pink bra from my bag, and was wondering who to give the vibrating cock-ring to. You can’t take me anywhere.

I drifted about, giving people bouncy-balls, and yo-yos, and spinning tops, and mini-slinkies from my bag and pockets, I let lots of complete strangers put their fingers in my craniotomy scar, and I was generally a bit of an arse. Not a complete arse, because I couldn’t risk missing the train home, and ending up sleeping on someone else’s hotel floor. I sleepwalk, and talk in my sleep, and I hadn’t brought a change of pants. I only hugged a handful of people, and I didn’t lick anyone, if I am in any of the pictures, it will only be in the background. I didn’t fall over, and, when I showed one of my tattoos to someone, I did it out of the way, around a corner.

I knew I couldn’t walk back to the train station, so one of my babysitters took me outside, and managed to phone me a taxi. I missed the train I was supposed to catch, and had to get the next one. A gaggle of drunks boarded, and one sat next to me, it was bad enough when she started to do the drunk-wobble-falling asleep thing, it was hideous when she vomited into the aisle, but at least it didn’t splash on me. I’ve been in that state myself, and I don’t ever want to be that drunk again. Her ‘friends’ weren’t interested, which shook me up, and made me wonder where I’d be able to put my phone if I had to perform CPR if she asphyxiated on the vomit, after they just hauled her into the toilet and left her there. 

Missing the ‘right’ train also meant I missed the last bus from the city centre, and had to phone a taxi. Warpy-wrap-around-head phoned one from a company that DBS checks their drivers, and text-messages you the registration plate for the car. I had my ballpoint pen in my hand, and was ready to send the text-message out onto Twitter if the driver started going the wrong way. He didn’t, but that’s a worrying train of thought to have when you’re on your own, and going back to an empty house. I managed to cobble together enough money for the fare and a small tip, so had stayed within-budget for the night. I tweeted a photo, to let people know I was home safe, and I’ll periodically flick onto Twitter today, to check if I’m in the background of any photos scratching that spot inside my left nostril. 

I did it. There was no real point to doing it, other than to prove I could. I have no unexplained bruises, I won’t be the subject of any gossip, and I managed to get myself there and back without incident. There’s something to be said for going out and not getting drunk.

[pen-parker-blog]

Ah the return of the Hangover Blog. Oh how I have missed thee.

So last weekend I travelled up t’North (as it is properly known to us Southerners), to Manchester to see Scratch Night Girl-ish, performed by the amazingly talented women of No Door Theatre (Click here for last weeks post). There is something odd about jumping on a plane and landing the same country you have taken off in.

  Not quite the sun kissed beaches of Majorca

  Although a trip to the tropical paradise that is Manchester did hold significance for me, as this was in fact the city from where my Mother hailed from and called her home growing up. So I was excited to walk the streets my Mum had walked down many years earlier, although she did have to break it to me, that perhaps things would have changed in the 30 or so years since she has lived there.

I’d like to think Johnny has been there forever

Still, even though we hadn’t left the country, this was all still so new to me. Having spent all my life in the South of England, I was excited to share the same experiences as my Northern brethren and live the life they live. So we went to a bar, got served by a southerner, and consumed Italian food and beer. Eee by Gum, don’t get much more Northern than that my son!

Did someone say alcohol?

So after watching Girl-Ish we were lucky enough to hang out with the cast and crew of No Door Theatre, and what happens when you find yourself in an enclosed space with a bunch of theatre types, near a flowing stream of alcohol? Well you suddenly find yourself on a night bus into the centre of town to go out clubbing – Wait what? How did I get here, you know my views on clubbing! I’m a grumpy 60 year old trapped in a 25 year old’s body! Problem for this inner curmudgeon is that his travelling companion is a young fresh faced University student who is way cooler than myself and leaps at the opportunity to venture out into the alcoholic’s equivalent of that cave in the  Dagobah system.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Once you’ve fallen out the taxi and stumbled back to your hotel room, having a full blown argument with the fucking key card lock – because I can never work the bloody thing, why can’t we just have keys like normal people, because I have to shove that card in every which way about a dozen bloody times before the damn thing gives way…. followed by a mere 4 hours sleep where really bad leg cramp suddenly wakes you up at 5am to remind you how much of an old man you are, you realise perhaps you shouldn’t have consumed that much alcohol when you have to check out at the ungodly time of 10am. The regret also sinks in, along with the pounding inside your head, as you ride the bus into town over a dozen potholes, even though you pay an insufferable amount of money each year on road tax, so why the hell don’t the pot holes get filled in? Don’t the Council even think about the poor hungover man dying on the bus? Then once off the bus, you have eight hours to kill..in a city you’ve never been to before…with a hangover… whilst this shit is going on.

This man is my hero

Thankfully the two of us survived dragging our carcasses through the city of Manchester, avoiding the temptation to fall asleep in a Costa Coffee, or throw up in a public toilet, to take in some of the sights this city has to offer. These included, but were not limited to, seeing a police woman give chase and tackle a man to the ground, people failing to pay attention to on coming trams, an oddly large number of hen party gatherings, and whatever the hell is going on here.

As far as hangovers go…. yeah this was a pretty horrid one. I don’t know what it is about hanging out with other theatre types, but the alcohol always seems to flow a lot thicker and faster. Or maybe it’s just my crippling alcoholism…. Nah can’t be that

Anyways, the pair of us made it o the end of the day with our heads held high, (literally we were having to physically hold them up) to make it to the airport, and enjoy the fun ordeal of me starting to panic as I think about just how in the flying hell does a giant hunk of metal, with dozens of people inside manage to get itself from the ground into the air when it must weigh a bloody tonne and- Oh wait we’re back home… that was quick!

And breath

I always love writing Hangover Blogs for this site, although the actual experience of the hangover is not one I am keen to repeat. So I’m happy to leave it a while before having to endure another one.

So next week I am London bound for the 28 Plays Later meet up. Meaning I will once again be in an enclosed space….with a load of theatre types….near a flowing stream of alcohol

Hangover blog it is. 

DAVE

P.S – Cheeky plug time. This April I will be performing in Yt2 Theatre’s production of the Simon Stephens play Birdland. We are taking the show up to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival this year, but before then we are hosting two performances at the Hanger Farm Arts Centre in Totton, Southampton. If you are in the area, or even if you’re not, you should really come and check out what will be a truly fantastic piece of theatre. And hey, maybe we can get drunk afterwards, because that’s what us theatre types do right?

Tickets can be purchased here

Manchester Hangover – Up t’North Ah the return of the Hangover Blog. Oh how I have missed thee. So last weekend I travelled up t'North (as it is properly known to us Southerners), to Manchester to see Scratch Night Girl-ish, performed by the amazingly talented women of No Door Theatre (

[jivingcryingboy]

Being In A Band

There's a always that situation for a musician when someone, like your girlfriend's mum, uncle, another parent asks you, "What do you do?" And you answer "I play in a band." Now, I've seen this first hand and it can go a few ways. One way is that the girlfriend's mum, or whoever it is, gets very interested and their eyes light up because it's an interesting journey and so on. The second way, which is common, is for the person to suddenly pause as if you've just told them their daughter is pregnant, kicked their dog and pissed all over their toilet seat. "Oh...that's nice", meaning that their girl's partner is someone who is broke and goalless and cannot provide for their daughter.

Now I'm not having a go at people who react like this. Usually these reactions are from people who don't play music and are casual music listeners at best. And ultimately, these people are only going to understand when you point towards the radio and go, "That's my band" or "Here's the paycheck". And yes, ultimately, even for the musician there does have to be some kind of success in terms of making music especially before huge responsibilities like a raising family come your way. And I don't mean success as in playing at Wembley or lots of fame, I mean earning money out of music so you can keep making music and doing what you love best.

And if that's not possible, you get a job on the side to fund the music you love doing. Making a living out of 'popular originals music', is hard. Extremely hard.

If you want to become a lawyer or an engineer or a doctor, there is some kind of path to get there. A very hard one, don't get me wrong, but there is a some kind of visible path to get there. You can't just stroll in to a ward and do an operation. You have to revise, take exams, get experience working in a hospital environment before you become a doctor. Making a living out of original music, there is no straight path. It's pinball. Some people take years to get there, some people are overnight successes, some people are rejected over one hundred times before they get a break, some people get lucky first time, some people never get lucky. There are no exams, no scale of how good or bad you are, no league tables, no nothing.

And that's the other side to all of this; everything is subjective. Good and bad have no significance. In sport, there are ways of tracking how good a sportsman is. Granted, there are subjective and aesthetic issues, but there are statistics to help you along the way. In music, we fall into that 'Art' category. That fucking word. For example, a single turd could be sitting in a white room at the Tate Modern and it could be considered the greatest statement of the 21st century through many eyes. Through other eyes however, it's just a turd in a white room. How is this special turd making such a statement? But I guess that's the beauty of it all. You could be watching a band, enamoured by their music whilst standing next to someone who can't wait until that band finishes. If you are a musician, an artist, a novelist, screenplay writer etc. you are in a game where there are no rules. For the people who get there, I reckon some of them don't even know how they got there.

'Art' is funny thing. It's as meaningless as it is essential. Whether you create some form of art or not is insignificant. We are all indulged in TV series, video games, films, novels, songs, paintings, theatre shows, whatever it may be. Most of them fictional. It is a natural human desire to wear a mask and pretend to be someone else whether you are performing or spectating. For me, if there is ever a specific definition that sums up 'art', it is the desire to be and to feel something more than ourselves. To express ourselves outside our human boundaries. Yep, I just did it. Pretentious art talk. Fuck it. I'm that pretentious guy at the party who says he writes songs. So even those people who don't fully understand someone's pursuit in this particular area, even they are indulged in some art form through whatever medium.

I keep banging on about there not being a 'good or bad' in music. I'll try and explain. Our debut EP was released not so long ago and I always try and get it reviewed. I emailed one particular website where I got a reply of which I'd never seen before. The guy emailed back and basically told me that he, the reviewer, does not pick what he reviews, 'tippers' do. Tippers are people who tell reviewers and blogs what to write about. It's a bit like keeping up with the latest fashion trends; if more people search for 'so-and-so band' on google, they'll review them, and people are more likely to click on the reviewer's page. Another website I found stated that you had to pay for the review. And if you put out that little bit extra, you get to be on the 'Upcoming Artist' Section.

Even though it sounds like I'm complaining, I'm not. It's just the way it is. I think there was a time before social media where this concept was less blurry. Before the internet, it was more about the music. I won't bullshit too much, image still played a massive part, but when the internet came along it introduced so many more factors that artists had to deal with. In social media, not only is it about music, it's about marketing, branding, audience, image, current events, being quirky and so much more. Quirkiness is everything. You can't just play your song and expect anything anymore. You have to play a song, live streamed with piano-playing cats, five people playing one guitar, juggling at the same time, looking gorgeous, crazy clothes, no gravity rooms, bla bla bla. The music becomes a passenger. This is why we have music videos. Audio is no longer enough. That's why we did our music video down Bold Street. Don't get me wrong, it did fit the song, but just releasing the track by itself won't get you anywhere. If you scroll down the Facebook feed right now, literally right now, (come back though) count how many videos there are. There's a tonne of them! So many! Why? Because it grabs your attention. Cats, racist people, accidents, Donald Trump. You have to punch someone in the face to get their attention. I think it's not about being good or bad, it's about being quirky, loud and different, even if it's shite, it doesn't matter

I know you can get magazines and blogs who rate albums out of five/ten stars but that's complete bullshit as well. Critic's Choice, IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes spoon feeding you your opinion before you've even made it. There used to be so much analysis about Kurt Cobain's lyrics, a ridiculous amount of people weighing in about what they thought Kurt meant, when Kurt actually for the most part did not really give much of shit about the words he was writing at all. I'm not gonna get started on the whole concept of criticism but there's a lot of vagueness going on there as well. In my opinion.

One thing I do know for sure is that you need money and to be fair, that could be said about everything in life. Uni fees are sky high, so many educational paths are laminated in debt. Maybe this is a naive point. Earning money though from your own songs is sticky.

https://www.theguardian.com/…/how-much-musicians-make-spoti…

The Guardian did a post not so long ago regarding stream revenue for artists. I think it was round the time after Taylor Swift kicked off and left Spotify. What this says ^ is that if, like us, you are an unsigned artist, in order to earn minimum wage in America ($1,260 per month) your songs must be played 180,000 times per month. That's for Spotify. That's $0.001 per click. 2% of all Spotify artists actually achieve minimum wage out of their music. There's torrenting, youtube mp3 converter files, the way to make money out of music bands on our level is touring. And that's another drama.

So why do it? Why be broke, play songs that maybe no one cares about and set yourself up for failure? I don't think there is a definitive answer to this as everyone has a different take on it. In my case, and I can only speak for myself, I guess it's meaning. A phenomenal piece of the makeup that constitutes to be living. Talking as someone who tries to write songs, creating something is such a beautiful thing. To give birth to little worlds, stories, characters that exist in my own creative realm is for me personally, the one thing I am most thankful for. Even if the next tune I write is the worst thing you've ever heard, even if you listen to the song and think, "please, never sing again", the feeling of creating something, making a story is priceless, indecipherable even. I also think what everyone forgets is that for the people who are pursuing 'originals' music as a career, we are in such a fortunate position; a position in life where we have the opportunity and capabilities to actually pursue music. We're not struggling to feed our families, we're not fleeing our countries because of famine and war, we are in a place where we can choose an artistic way of life, even if it doesn't pay well. For many people, the idea of even trying to make music is so far way from their reality as the restraints of their lives do not allow them a single chance to prove themselves at it. You get this one life, yolo, do what makes you happy. If you want to be a musician, work tirelessly to be one. Those people who look down on you, laugh at you are people probably not happy with how their lives have gone. Just do it. If we can continue to make and play music then job done. Even if it goes nowhere, I can be proud of what we have done, proud to say I was part of a music video down Bold Street, proud to say we released music knowing I felt emotions that would not have been possible for me to feel anywhere else. Through the difficult times we have had, music never lets you down. If anyone ever locks into our songs and tunes in to what we are doing, gets the same feelings as we got when we listened to our favourite bands for the first time, that is biggest cherry on top you can ever ask for.

[theelectricfilmdiary]

We spent two glorious days walking the streets of Paris, and despite the constant rain it was amazing. Nine hours was spent on a bus travelling from London to Paris – via the channel tunnel aka chunnel, which was kinda freaky: locked inside a bus, in a large train, in a tunnel, under the sea for 40 minutes …..still gives me the shivers!

When we arrived in Paris, it was dusk and we made the decision to avoid the trains, busses and wrong turns (not to mention the arguments where we blame each other for being lost) and caught an Uber to our accommodation. We got lucky with a driver who had spent three years in the states learning english and we chatted away with him about Paris. He told us a bit about the local culture and the goings on with the numerous recent terror attacks. Feeling slightly more educated we were dropped at our gorgeous lil’ apartment in the 4th Arrondissement. The apartment was super cute; small and cosy but had everything you could need and was a perfect haven to return to each day. It was about 8:30pm by the time we arrived and unpacked so we walked to a nearby supermarket and stocked up on cheese, baguettes (of course), olives and cured meats as well as an AMAZING bottle of red wine, and watched… French Kiss! I know, cliché, but it’s so funny. Well sated we then fell into bed.

Morning arrived (11th Jan) and we got up, made a coffee and then departed for a day of site seeing. The first stop – a bakery where I had my first authentic French croissant – and holy fucking shit it was good – too good.  I’ve been ruined for life now!  The next stop was the Père Lachaise Cemetery. Sounds a bit morbid and weird that we would visit a cemetery, BUT there are a tonne of famous musicians and writers (as well as a host of others) buried there and it has become a bit of a tourist attraction in its own right. The first grave stop was that of the one and only Jim Morrison of The Doors. The grave was sectioned off because unfortunately some extreme fans are partial to theft (headstones) and there is one recorded incident where a group of students dug two meters down in the hopes of recovering his hallowed bones before being caught. There are now a couple of hidden cameras recording the grave site visitors. Weird. The next stop was Edith Piaf, an extraordinary French singer who I absolutely love. We also tried to find Oscar Wilde’s grave site, but after searching for about 20 minutes we gave up – more to see in Paris aside from graves anyway…

James, as per usual, needed to pee so we stopped in a cafe and ordered one of the days many espressos so we could use the luxury bathroom facilities (luxury at this point is anything that doesn’t have pee –  or worse – on the floor/toilet seat/walls etc and also provides the most basic of amenities – toilet paper and hand wash).  The coffee of course was better than most we had tried throughout this entire trip – and soo much cheaper than the ones we had in London, Denmark etc – though you have to drink it at the bar, otherwise you pay more for the pleasure of your seat.

From the cafe warmth we strolled the streets until we reached a market selling produce, clothing and nick nacks. The food – OH MY GOD – each vendor (fish mongers, bakery/patisserie’s, fruit and vege, fromagerie (cheese), butchers, Pate and terrines (yes a stall just for them), jams and sauces, olives, flowers, everything you could imagine) had their wares displayed so beautifully – it was art itself. Every part of it was quality too. We came across a stall selling hot food for lunch, french stews, chicken, beef – all doused in amazing gravies and sauces. We had been told that street/market food in France is amazing and that you should try it if presented with the option, so Jim ordered up the vegetable stew with couscous…. SOOO GOOD. We stood on a side street digging in while the rain sprinkled down, and a passer-by commented “bon appetite” – no shit a Frenchman actually said that haha.

We walked along the River Seine admiring the beauty of the Parisian buildings and architecture until we hit the Notre-Dame de Paris – not before being harassed by a few wandering gypsy types trying to scam money out of us. We declined and were promptly sworn at… ahh Paris. The cathedral was beautiful, the front arches ornately decorated with hundreds of carvings, and the inside… dark, brooding, and the stained glass windows shone down a multitude of colours and images. The entry was free also which was great for us backpacking on a budget. After spending about an hour in the cathedral we walked outside to the Point Zero des Routes de France square in front of its big doors and watched people scaring flocks of pigeons into the sky – James of course had a go and leapt/skipped through them like an overgrown, semi-bearded child. Great photos.

From there, another pee stop for James and another espresso – seriously half of the conversations this trip have been based around his bathroom requirements… to which he blames the cold… rather than the two gallons of water he consumes each day. We walked the last hour of daylight home – our feet nearly bleeding stumps by this point – I actually have a bruise on my foot from walking so much. I ran back down to the supermarket and got more bread and cheese, salmon, beans and their rotisserie chicken and potatoes. Perfect dinner to finish the day – We sat in front of the laptop and watched something… so tired I can’t remember!

The morning of the 12th, we were up and out of the unit – this time the agenda was Paris Catacombs, Eiffel Tower and Arc de Triomphe…. Not seeing the Louvre this time unfortunately… we have done so many museums and galleries over the past weeks that we were more keen on seeing the behemoth-monument side of things. Croissant and espresso breakfast was consumed and we walked our way to the nearest metro station where we caught the train to the catacombs. GUESS WHAT?!? They were closed… only through January of course. Apparently we chose a particularly good time of the year to travel. Every city seems to do their renovations just after Christmas. Makes sense really…

So. Rather than getting back on the train we decided to walk… feet be damned… to the Eiffel Tower (we had noticed it towering away in the distance). On the way through some side streets we passed a store which only sold art and books by one of Jim’s favourite artists  – Jean Giraud, aka MOEBIUS. He’s a French comic book artist who creates really bizarre, colourful, other worldly scenes. Kind of futuristic/sci-fi as well. He also inspired the look of the film The Fifth Element. We walked in and looked through all the amazing prints while chatting to the store manager. Before leaving, we bought a poster print as well as a signed print of one of the artists comic book pieces from Blueberry, which is his longest running comic book and is set in the wild west. Moebius died in 2012 so it was pretty cool that Jim got to visit his only store and get something signed by him.

On to the Eiffel Tower – not before yet another bathroom stop… then we were queuing up for security searches, and tickets before being bundled into a small room sized elevator with a hundred other tourists and slowly ascending to the second level of the tower – The third and top most floor was closed… I know… big surprise aye! The view was great though, despite the rain and clouds covering the sky, you could still see a surprising amount of Paris. It was fecking cold. We held out as long as we could taking pictures and looking around before getting friendly with more strangers in yet another elevator. We could have taken the stairs but as I mentioned earlier… our feet are bleeding stumps at this point.  Once back on the ground we walked the short distance over to the Arc de Triomphe, again it was surrounded by tourists. It is massive though, much bigger than we had imagined and is covered in colossal stone sculptures. Beautiful.

A train ride later and we were back on our side of town. A patisserie stop later… more croissants, a lemon tart, and mille feuille….healthy aye. We enjoyed our sugary treats with coffee back at our apartment as night closed in and rain started to pour rather than drizzle (for shizzle). The wind howled up and down our apartment alleyway and we munched away on scrambled eggs for dinner. The next day we were to be up, packed and catch a train to Orly airport for our flight to Lisbon, Portugal so a few movies later it was lights out.

The morning of the 13th of January flew by in a blur of coffee, meticulous packing, and train tickets. Before we knew it we were sitting in the departure lounge drinking Italian beer and prosecco. Paris was amazing, and we wished we had a few more days to explore… next time we return it will definitely be spring or summer. Winter was still great… it’s just a lot was closed and it was cold and raining most of the time which made getting around that bit more draining.

One thing I will mention to anyone planning to visit Paris, or any European city for that matter, is always watch where your walking… dog shit is plentiful, and Jim experienced a good caking a couple of times… hahaha

View from the Eiffel Tower

Dinner at the apartment – night two

Fontaine Saint Michel, Paris

View from the Eiffel Tower

The Eiffel Tower

The Eiffel Tower details

Inside Notre Dame de Paris

Arc de Triomphe details

Paris street art

Paris street details

Fontaine Saint Michel, Paris – Details

Paris street details

Arc de Triomphe details

Fontaine Saint Michel, Paris

Inside Notre Dame de Paris

Arc de Triomphe details

Moebius art shop

Sweet treats and coffee at the apartment

Railway overbridge, Paris

The Eiffel Tower

Inside Notre Dame de Paris

Paris

Arc de Triomphe

This is how our bakery treats came wrapped – so cute

Arc de Triomphe details

Paris, la ville de l’amour et merde de chien… We spent two glorious days walking the streets of Paris, and despite the constant rain it was amazing.