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virtueangel · 3 years

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limitless.

chapter eighteen.

wc: 2,090. original publish date: november 12, 2020.

"Oh my god, finally," Vincent whines once JFK pulls his car into the parking lot.

"Hey, why are you complaining? I'm the one who just had to drive for three hours," JFK replies. "Besides, you could've chosen a closer destination."

Van Gogh gives Kennedy a warning glare. "Hey! No fighting today!"

John shrugs. "You started it."

Vincent takes a deep breath. "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot." He unbuckles his seatbelt and leans across the centre console to give JFK a kiss on the lips, deep and slow.

Kennedy grins. "That's more like it."

The boys climb out of the car, and Vincent is immediately hit by a gush of icy wind. He pulls his letterman jacket tighter around himself, one hand flying up to his head to secure the bandages. His fiery orange hair dances in front of his eyes and whips him in the face. JFK smiles to himself, taking in the way the boy's freckles pop out against his flushed cheeks. He never really could deal with the cold.

"So, why'd you bring us to the ocean?" John questions, locking the car before turning back to Van Gogh. He bends an arm against his hip and holds it out to the smaller boy, who wraps his hands around his boyfriend's biceps. They step off of the concrete of the parking lot and onto the sandy beach, linked just like that.

"Because it's actually sunny today. I thought it might be nice."

JFK stifles a laugh, looking down at bundled-up Van Gogh. "And how's that working out for you?"

Vincent bats at Kennedy playfully. "Don't start with me."

JFK leads them down the beach, towards a huge, barnacled rock close to the shoreline. The sand is harder and wetter over here, which Van Gogh is grateful for. He doesn't like when the dry sand collects between the laces of his Keds. It's such a fuss to clean out and it always stains the white laces brown.

The ocean is calm, but small waves still lap at the sand. The water fizzes and leaves sea foam on the beach, bits of rocks and shells and plastic trapped in it. The waves crash in a syncopated fashion, the sound a low enough hum to fall asleep to. Vincent gazes out across the water, smiling reservedly at the view. The sun reflects off of the emerald water, and the ocean seems to last forever. He imagines walking right into the surf with his clothes and shoes on, letting the waves submerge him and pull him into the abyss. What a heavenly way to die.

"I wish I knew where my sketchbook was," he murmurs, delicate fingers still wrapped around JFK's bicep. "I don't think I'd draw this. It's too grand for that. I'd paint it."

"In your sketchbook?"

Van Gogh shrugs, eyes still taking in the ocean. "I don't have a canvas."

John grins, but not in his over-eager toothpaste model fashion. He grins in contentedness, in reservation, in affection, in... love. "I'll be your canvas."

Vincent turns to the boy, sure he's joking. "I'm sure you'd love having oil paint on your washboard abs."

JFK laughs and shakes his head. "You're probably right."

The two stand there for some minutes longer, just basking in the shimmering sun and letting their noses fill up with pleasantly salty air. It's been so long since either of them have gone to the beach. Exclamation! is a landlocked town in a landlocked state.

"Do you want to take a walk?" Kennedy whispers after a while, hesitant to break the silence.

"I think that would be okay."

They start walking, slowly. They haven't gotten very far when Vincent says, "Wait."

JFK stops. "What is it?"

Van Gogh unwraps himself from John and bends down to untie his Keds. He slides his shoes off of his feet, hopping on one foot as he takes his socks off. He balls his socks up and places them in his shoes.

"You wanna carry those...?" Kennedy starts.

Vincent shakes his head and tucks them into a split in the rock. "You wanna take off yours?"

JFK bends down to untie his sneakers. He pulls his socks off, not bothering to remove them one at a time. He doesn't care if the bottoms get dirty. He balls the socks up and shoves them into his sneakers before handing them to Van Gogh, who stacks them up next to his own shoes in the rock crevice.

They resume their walk. Vincent slides his hand down JFK's arm until it meets with the taller boy's hand, warm and rough against his small palm.

"Your fingers are so long," JFK says.

Vincent giggles nervously. "That's such an odd comment to make."

John shakes his head lightly. "It's not a bad thing."

"I like the way my hand fits in yours," Van Gogh says.

JFK smiles, his insides melting, warm and gooey like a fresh chocolate chip cookie. "Good, because I like the way your hand fits into mine."

Vinnie speaks after a while, the fizz of the sea foamy waves suddenly deafening in the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay."

Van Gogh takes a deep breath, letting the rise and fall of his chest soothe him. "What's your favourite thing about me?"

Jack grins. "My favourite thing about you?"

Vincent nods.

JFK goes silent, taking a moment to think before answering. "There isn't just one thing."

"You can give me more than one," Van Gogh says, hoping he doesn't sound too hopeful as his mouth pulls into a giddy smile.

"I like the way you look in the mornings, when I wake up and you're still asleep. I like the way your hair falls over your eyes and the way the t-shirt you sleep in is too big for you and the sleeves go all the way down to your elbows. I like the way your cheeks flush pink in the cold, and I like the way you tie your shoelaces. I like the way you can focus so hard on the book you're reading that you don't even notice the world around you. It's like your book is your world. I wish I could do that. Fall into something, the way you do."

"It gets boring after awhile," Vincent offers. "Or sometimes I get too lost and it's jarring when you say my name."

"Well," JFK starts. "I'm sorry."

"Is that it?" Van Gogh asks after a second. "Those are all the things you like about me?"

JFK smiles. He opens his mouth and closes it, trying words out on his tongue before saying them out loud. "I like watching you when you pick at your nails. I know you probably don't mean to do it, but... I don't know. I guess there's this fluidity about it. Your fingernails are so healthy and long, it's just... god, I don't know. This is kind of embarrassing." The taller boy laughs at himself, his cheeks turning pink.

Gogh blushes. "You can keep going, if you want to."

John laughs goodheartedly, but intends to continue nonetheless. He's not done. He won't be done for a while. Every thought he's ever had about Van Gogh rushes back into his head -- they've been best friends since they were in grade school. But they were never really just friends, were they? All those Friday nights that JFK would spend at the boy's house keeping him company while his parents were away; all those times Vincent would call him in the middle of the night, begging him to come over because he couldn't fall asleep in an empty house and how JFK would always going over, no matter how late it was -- none of that is something just friends do. He thinks about every time Vincent's gaze would linger on him a split second longer than normal and how he always pretended not to notice. He thinks about how Vincent's is the only contact in his phone that is a nickname followed by a string of emojis instead of a mundane first and last name. He thinks about how he took books off of Vincent's bookshelf without asking just because he wanted to read the same words the boy had, just because he wanted to know his fingers were grazing over spines that Vincent's had. He thinks about the times he'd let Vincent paint his nails, about the times he'd let Vincent pick out his outfits for school. How both of them had thought their relationship was a friendship that everyone had -- how they'd neglected to pick up on the signs that everyone else had noticed long ago.

"I like the way you wear a yellow raincoat and matching rain boots when it's wet outside. I like the way you always put the pillows on your bed in the same arrangement, and I like the way you dance to music even when it's playing through your earbuds. I like the way you mouth the words to the book you're reading when you're concentrating really hard. I like the way you hold your pencil when you're drawing, like it'll float away if you loosen your grip even a little bit. I like the way you bend over when you're writing -- really writing -- with one elbow bent on the table and your fingers threaded through your hair. I like the way you actually use one of those little plastic hourglasses with the yellow sand in it to time yourself while you're brushing your teeth. I like the way you're the only person I know who actually brushes their teeth for two minutes."

This last part earns a stifled laugh from Van Gogh.

"But most of all, I like the way that you sing along to music in the car, how you keep your voice low because you don't want me to hear you but of course I still can anyway."

"Do I sound horrible?"

JFK shakes his head. "No."

Van Gogh smiles, looking away. He's never felt like this before, like... he's exactly where he's supposed to be. He isn't worried about being left alone on Friday nights, or insecure about the way he constantly reorganises his bedroom. For once in his life, he doesn't feel uncomfortable or like he needs to run away. He wants to fall, fall into JFK, and he doesn't need a rope for security.

"The ocean is freezing cold," Vincent says, because that's the only sentence he can reach for.

Kennedy grins and slides his arms out of his letterman jacket. He pulls his red and white striped sweater over his head next before unzipping his khakis. He stands in front of Vincent wearing only his white t-shirt and underwear. Vincent sighs and takes off his own layers until his outfit matches JFK's, and they walk into the surf, hand in hand.

"Jesus fuck, Jack," Vincent exclaims, a salty wave pushing into his thighs.

JFK wraps his arms around Vincent, pulling the boy close. Van Gogh buries his face in John's t-shirt, now soaked and smelling of salt. He doesn't mind, though. He'll take whatever warmth he can get.

Kennedy rests his chin on Van Gogh's head, kissing the boy's bandage every once in a while. He shivers a little bit, but he ignores the cold setting into his skin. He pulls Vincent closer, and the boy wraps his arms around JFK's midsection. John gazes out across the water as Van Gogh shuts his eyes against his boyfriend's chest.

The world is silent except for the calm lapping of the waves and the fizzing of the sea foam. Except for the temperature of the water, it is perfect -- no freights honking in the distance, no seagulls screeching overhead. Vincent slides his hands underneath JFK's shirt, feeling the warmth radiating off the skin of his back. His pale legs turn even paler as they erupt in goosebumps, but there's nowhere he'd rather be.

JFK lets out a low laugh from his throat, and Vincent draws back from his chest.

"What?" He asks, looking up at the boy.

John's face falls soft, and his bottom lip surrenders to the faintest trace of a quiver. "I'm in love with you."

Van Gogh shifts his bodyweight and leans back, curving his chin up so his mouth meets JFK's. They share a kiss, deep and slow, the salty ocean burning their bare thighs.

"I was hoping you might be."

It's the closest thing to I love you that he's ever given anyone.

#limitless.#clone high #clone high jfk #clone high van gogh #jfgogh

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mhdiaries · 4 years

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Wave 3 Toralei Stripe Diary

July. Two. Five.

Ooh they’re telling math jokes now...

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi!

The math geeks I’m stuck on this bus with think that this is funny. So funny in fact, that the harpy sitting in front of me shoots milk out of her nose when she hears the punch line. I don’t think it’s funny at all. I’d rather be listening to the music I have stored on my iCoffin but two hours into our five-hour ride home my iCoffin gave up the ghost. It should have lasted the whole trip and then some except that one of my math camp roomies “accidentally” unplugged my iCoffin charger last night when she plugged in her fright light. I don’t even know why a ghost needs a fright light. What? Was she afraid she would trip over something and go “bump in the night?” I realized what happened when we woke up this morning but we had to leave first thing so I didn’t have time to put a full charge on it. At least I got enough battery life to block out the two hours dedicated to the singing of “X Number Bottles of Ghoul Juice on the Wall.” To add to the misery the seats on this bus only have room for two monsters and Meowlody and Purrsephone are of course sitting together which left me stuck in a seat next to a troll named Teala who had never been away from her bridge for more than a day until she came to math camp.She cried herself to sleep every night. Not that any other monster but me noticed but then again I notice everything. I also noticed Teala wasn’t laughing at any of the math jokes either. In fact she seemed to be more miserable than I was. Well now, here I was thinking she was missing her bridge but if that were the case why didn’t she seem excited about going home? “Dish,” I said. She turned and looked at me for a moment and then stared back ahead. “Okay - suit yourself then,” I said and then tried to curl up in the seat to take a cat nap which I had almost accomplished when she said; “My boy-fiend broke up with me...by text...the first night of math camp.” She still wasn’t looking at me but she wasn’t crying either. “He was my first real boyfriend and...and I don’t know why I’m telling you ‘cause you don’t seem to care about any monster besides yourself and you’ll probably figure out a way to use this to make me even more miserable.” I didn’t show it, but that really hurt. Just because I enjoy the chaos that a good practical joke brings doesn’t mean that I’m intentionally cruel does it? I don’t think it does and besides; where’s the fun of kicking some monster when they’re already down? It’s a lot more fun to see the surprise on a monster’s face when they think they’ve got it all together and you can “help them” see that they don’t. So I said, “Guess you better tell me the whole story then so I can do a thorough job.” That actually brought a ghost of a smile to her face. Teala told me that her ex boy-fiend was applying to colleges and that he decided he needed to keep his “options open” in case he might meet his “intellectual equal” at school. At first I didn’t believe he actually wrote that and then she showed me the text. “Does he really think he’s that smart,” I asked. She kind of shrugged and said, “He’s scary smart but not as good at math as I am, especially withy differential equations.” She told me he really wanted to get into this one school because his favorite mad scientist taught there. I’d never heard of the school but I knew who the mad scientist was because Mr. Hack made use watch a bunch of his videos in class. The videos were deadly boring but the mad scientist had this odd accent and strange speech pattern. I used to mimic his voice in class to make Mr. Hack jump. I’d wait until Mr. Hack’s back was turned and then scream, “Huhhacckkk - theeese stuuudannts reeelease youuu wuh-ill ah-yuat wa-unce!” It cost me several days in detention and a trip to Headless Headmistress Bloodgood’s office the last time I mimicked the mad scientist but even Mr. Hack admitted he couldn’t tell the difference between the scientist’s voice and my imitation of it. We talked about a few more things and then Teala finally fell asleep. I was able to finally fall asleep as well but not before having to hear another math joke followed by an explosion of milk from the seat in front of me.

July. Two. Eight.

I went to MH today to pick up some pictures I left in the FearBook office. When I was done I went up to the belfry. It’s a good place to keep an eye on things without other eyes watching you. It’s also a good place to take a nap. Usually the hunchback who rings the bells...the bells...works up there but he was on summer vacation in France or somewhere so I had the place to myself; until Spectra came floating through that is. She thinks that she’s very stealthy but it’s almost impossible to sneak up on me and I heard the rattle of her chains long before she actually appeared. I pretended to be asleep for a moment then with my eyes still closed I said, “What do you want Spectra?” “Oh, hello Toralei. Did you hear the news?” Most monsters don’t trust anything they hear from Spectra. I know better. There’s always an element of truth in her “news”. You just need to know how to listen. Here’s an example; Spectra told me she heard that Nefera is moving back to town and will be taking over for Ms. Kindergruber in Home Ick. Not only that but Ms. Kindergruber is also going to quit teaching to become a roadie for her favorite rock and roll band. Now as much fun as it is to imagine Ms. K. climbing stacks of amps while wearing a sleeveless leather vest, bandana and steel toed boots it’s not going to happen. Although when compared to the thought of Nefera actually “lowering herself” to teach, it’s practically a done deal Ms K will be hitting the road. I’m pretty sure out of that confusing jumble of information the one true fact is that Nefera is moving back to town and probably sooner rather than later...now there’s a monster who enjoys kicking some body when it’s down.

July. Three. Zero.

Got an email today from Teala, the troll girl I sat with on the ride home from math camp. Apparently her ex boy-fiend told her that he got a call from the mad scientist he wanted to study under. The scientist told her ex that his test scores indicated a “skuhh-ill weeeakness in diffuhh-wrenntial eeeequay-shunns” and that her ex should find some monster that was intellectually superior and “geeet sah-ummm tuutorr-ing”. Her ex was certain it was the professor since “no monster could fake that voice.” He also apologized to Teala for being an arrogant jerk and asked if she would tutor him in differential equations. Teala told him that she would have to check her schedule. Sometimes it is just purrrecious the way things work out for the beast.

August. One. Three.

I bought a ball of dragon thread today for Sweet Fangs. It’s just about the only material that’s strong enough to survive more than one play session with her. I don’t know what I’m going to do when Sweet Fangs gets bigger because I’m probably going to need the whole dragon and I’m not sure mom and dad are gong to be good with that.

August. Two. Five.

M&P came over today. They’re like my sisters and I can’t imagine how boring unlife would be without them. We do just about everything together and some monsters even think we’re related but we’re not. Not that it matters since we don’t really care what other monsters think anyway. We are who we are and any monster or monsters that want to try and herd us better get ready for a long miserable day. Today we weren’t worried about being herded, today was a brainstorm session. Our mission, repay Cleo de Nile and her minions for not only ruining our perfectly planned graduation prank but also for taking away part of our valuable summer vacation by “arranging” our trip to math camp. Knowing that it was Cleo who got the better of us is almost as irritating as being wet or having my fur stroked the wrong way. I can’t believe that I actually helped her when she first wanted to be a part of the Fear Squad. Cleo didn’t even know how to do a cartwheel, much less a round off. So I took her under my claw and taught her everything I knew and since I’d been doing gymnastics from the time I was a kitten I knew a lot. I finally got Cleo to the point where she started to “get it” and instead of being a liability she started contributing. I figured that for all my hard work and leadership Nefera would make me the Fear Squad captain when she graduated. Only she didn’t - she passed it onto Cleo. I can still remember what Nefera said to me when I confronted her about it. “I didn’t want Cleo to succeed - I wanted her to be humiliated but since you helped her, you get to deal with the consequences.” Then Cleo acted as if she deserved to be the captain and that she automatically knew everything there was to know about leading the Fear Squad. She should have showed some humility and stepped aside. She didn’t so now it’s up to me to teach her some new lessons and I can’t wait for class to be back in session.

August. Three. One.

There’s a meteor shower tonight, which will give us the purrrfect opportunity to practice the three D’s. Divert. Design. Demure. First I divert attention away from myself - although tonight the meteor shower should do that for me, next I design a “surprise” for my intended victim student and then after the unexpected happens I demure - “Oh my, what happened here?” More later...

Ended up scraping the three D’s tonight, mostly because the meteor shower diverted me. I was supposed to meet M&P at this coffee shop down close to the beach - it’s the only time I go to the beach since sand + water + fur = unhappy werecat - but they were late so I grabbed a catnipuccino and waited. The owner turned down the lights of the shop so it was almost dark and then the sky was falling. The ghouls showed up just as somewhere down the beach a monster started playing guitar and I said, “Just because we’ve got nine lives doesn’t mean we need to rush through this one.” And we didn’t.

#monster high #monster high diary #toralei stripe #text post #wave 3

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pixiegrl · 3 years

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"your cheeks are so red, it's so cute!" with cashton pls?

Hi Mandie! I know you asked for Cashton but this ended up being Cake. I hope you still enjoy it! It’s inspired by the Sandi Tree my local area does.

It’s on ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181931

Luke’s giddy. It’s the first Christmas in a while that they’ve spent in LA, on a break from touring and recording. It means that Luke gets to spend time with Calum, something that’s rare for the two of them. They’ve been dating for almost five years now and it feels like this is the first time they actually get to relax and spend the holiday season together. It’s also the first Christmas in a while that they get to spend in the warmth and sunshine of LA. It means they’ll be missing out on a wintery Christmas, but Luke will gladly take this over the cold any day.

It also means that Luke and Calum can finally go to the tropical Christmas land that the local beach by their house boasts. Since there are clearly no pine trees or snow to be found in LA, the locals have created their own version of it. It’s a 20 foot sandcastle-like tree, carved and decorated into a Christmas tree. There’s also other sand sculptures in the area, seasonal or not, done by local artists. Luke’s been trying to go for years, but with the band’s schedule, it’s never lined up properly until this year.

“Calum! Let’s go,” Luke calls. He’s been standing by the doorway for what feels like ages, waiting for Calum to finish whatever it is he’s doing. Luke’s antsy to get there before the crowds do, wants to get up close to the tree and see everything.

“You’re so impatient. I’m just trying to feed the dogs before we go,” Calum says, exiting the kitchen. Luke rolls his eyes, grabbing the car keys and Calum’s hand, tugging them both out the door. Calum calls at Luke to wait while he locks the front door. Luke’s already in the passenger seat, messing around with his phone to pull up music for the drive and getting the car ready. Calum laughs when he gets in the driver seat, realizing that Luke’s playing their pop punk Christmas playlist.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” he says, snorting when Alex Gaskarth yells “And it goes Merry Christmas, Bitch, kiss my ass.”

“Of course I do. How else would I set the mood for us?” Luke says, giggling when the song fades out and starts on “Santa Stole My Girlfriend.” Calum hums along, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time to the music.

“Thanks for doing this,” Luke says.

“What’s to thank? I get to spend quality time with my boyfriend, going to see a tree, and enjoying being on break. This is the best gift for the holiday.”

Luke grins, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Calum’s cheek. Calum smiles, grabbing hold of Luke’s hand and holding onto it while driving. Luke doesn’t care if it’s terribly impractical or dangerous, he’s enjoying this. Calum’s right, the best part of tonight is getting to spend time together.

Thankfully, the drive is short enough and the parking lot isn’t too full, so they park quickly and get out. Luke’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, walking as fast as he can to the entrance. Calum laughs, picking up this pace to match Luke’s until they pass under the archway and into the festive area.

Luke’s breathless when they get in and he looks around. It’s gorgeous, dazzling lights covering the palm trees and shops all around. It’s like something out of a movie, bright and shining, Christmas music playing in the background. Luke laughs, delighted when he realizes everyone walking around them are dressed up like elves, pointy ears and striped leggings. Luke squeezes Calum’s hand, pointing in delight at a small group of them.

“It’s not nice to point, Luke,” Calum says, all bubblegum smiles, bright and sweet.

“But look! How great is it!” Luke giggles, waving at the elves when they glance over. Calum laughs, tugging Luke’s hand, leading him along the pathway set out by the signs. Calum insists that the path they follow doesn’t matter, but Luke thinks it’ll be more fun that way. It’s set up like that for a reason, so it must be the best way possible. Calum rolls his eyes, but allows Luke to tug him in the direction of the arrows.

There’s a series of smaller sand sculptures besides the big tree. Luke laughs, pointing at the octopus one, playing different instruments with his tentacles, “Ollie and His 8 Piece Band.” Calum’s favorite ends up being the one of The Beatles as walruses, getting Luke to take a picture of him in front of the walrus Paul McCartney.

“Are you going to post it?” Luke asks, curious when he hands the phone back to Calum.

“Obviously. The greatest bass player and walrus Paul McCartney has to be posted online,” Calum says. Luke laughs in delight, snorting slightly at the end of this laugh. They loop their way around to the other ones, more sea creatures in little silly poses, crabs and starfishes hanging around.

The tree itself is impressive when they finally get to it. It’s huge, 20 feet if the sign is to be believed, a giant sandcastle covered in lights and carved to look like palm tree leaves. There’s a mermaid carved into the side, glowing in the red and green lights. There’s some tropical Christmas themed music playing, the lights dancing along to the music. Luke stops, staring up in awe at the tree itself.

“Can you believe it’s all sand? That must take forever to do. Look how much detail there is,” Luke says, pointing at the strands of hair the mermaid has. Calum hums in agreement.

“They even have a little musical crab for their The Little Mermaid knock off,” Calum says, pointing to her little crab friend, holding maracas.

“Oh hush. It’s still impressive,” Luke says, smacking Calum on the shoulder. Calum laughs, wrapping an arm around Luke’s waist and pulling him in close. Luke snuggles into Calum’s side, staring up as the lights shift to blues and purples, flashing along to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

“Your cheeks are so red. It’s so cute,” Calum says, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to Luke’s cheek. Luke blushes.

“I’m just cold,” He says, pouting.

“I can’t believe you’re calling this cold. We’re in LA. It’s still technically warm here.”

“Well, it’s windy and it’s still chilly. I’m allowed to be cold.”

“Lets get some hot chocolate then. I think it comes with little mini marshmallows. You deserve it,” Calum says. Luke perks up, nodding excitedly at the mention of marshmallows. Calum grins, pull Luke in the direction of where they’re selling food and drinks. He ends up purchasing two hot chocolates and a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie for them to split, waving Luke away when he tries to give Calum money.

“We’re on a date Luke. Let me pay for my boyfriend,” He says, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the girl working behind the register. She laughs as she takes the money, handing over Calum’s change, making their drinks before handing it and the drinks over. Luke mourns the loss of Calum’s hand in his when they have to break away to grab their food.

They find an empty table nearby, sitting down. Calum scoots his chair closer to Luke’s, grabbing the cookie and breaking it in half for them to slip. Luke reaches for his half, breaking off a small piece and taking a bite. It’s good, warm and gooey, filled with chocolate chips and Reese’s.

“What?” He asks, when he realizes Calum’s watching him eating.

“Nothing. It’s just cute watching you get excited over a cookie. You’re my boyfriend, I’m allowed to watch you be adorable,” Calum says, tongue poking through his teeth as he smiles. Luke laughs, leaning over to press a quick, chocolatey kiss to Calum’s lips.

“Sap.”

“It’s Christmas. I’m allowed to be sappy about my boyfriend for the season,” Calum says. Luke rolls his eyes, bumping his knee against Calum’s. They keep drinking their hot chocolate in comfortable silence, Luke enjoying his cookie, pretending that he doesn’t see Calum watching his every move, smiling softly in the bright glow of the Christmas lights.

They take the last of their hot chocolate, holding hands as they make one last lap around the lights before heading back to their car. They cross under the entryway again, Luke laughing when he sees the mistletoe hanging for the archway. Calum looks up, grinning when he sees the little sprig of leaves.

“Well, it is tradition,” Calum says, leaning forward. Luke meets him halfway, cupping Calum’s face in his hands, pressing their lips together. Calum’s lips are warm and chapped, tasting of chocolate and peanut butter. Luke pulls back, giggling. Calum’s grinning widely, eyes scrunched up at the corners, fingers hooked into Luke’s belt loops.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Calum says, pressing another kiss to Luke’s cheek.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Luke says, lacing his fingers through Calum’s as they walk back to their car. Luke’s decided this is the best Christmas ever.

#5 seconds of summer #cake #Luke Hemmings #calum hood #this is short and cute and I’m sorry it’s not cashton but #have some calum #my writing

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fangirlunderground-blog · 6 years

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Meta Monday

I got involved in fandom in the mid-90s when I was around 14 years old. My cousin @lyndanaclerio sent me VHS recordings of the Sailor Moon dub, and I fell in love... I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before.

Since then, I’ve been in a lot of different fandoms: from manga to YA, Tolkien to Xena, Harry Potter to Teen Wolf, Star Wars to Marvel, and countless mini-fandoms along the way. And I’ve met a lot of cool people online over the years — older and younger alike, including my best friend of 15 years — on all sorts of platforms. I’ve built myself fandom homes on shitty GeoCities fansites and moderately less shitty sites I made from scratch; on Yahoo! Groups and LiveJournal; on AO3 and Tumblr... and that’s nothing compared to others!

But, last week, I turned 36, and according to some, I’ve already overstayed my welcome in fandom by at least a decade. I guess I’m supposed to put all my comics and collectibles on eBay, swap out my fanfiction with whatever the fuck a beach read is, and spend the rest of my life cloistered in my house where I won’t offend society. (I mean, I’m kind of a hermit, but that’s not why.)

And let me be clear here: by some, I mean some. While there is indeed a frightening trend here on Tumblr, in which some young people have embraced bizarrely conservative views about women and sexuality, with the Trumpian rhetoric to match, I think the problem is bigger than that. I recently talked about the pressure I felt to abandon fandom when I was 25 when Tumblr was still brand new, and nothing like it is today. It’s clear there were (and are) more societal forces at work than just a toxic sub-culture on a struggling platform.

So, this post isn’t about the vast majority of young people in fandom, nor am I here to yell “get off my fandom, you pesky kids!” when no one ever said that to 14-year-old me. In fact, this post is as much for fangirls as it is for fanwomen because you deserve to know that getting older doesn’t mean giving up the things you love. But you don’t deserve to tell others to conform just because you’re uncomfortable that they exist. There are already enough toxic fanboys trying to keep women out of geek culture, so don’t help them hold the gates closed from the outside.

And if you are older, and already let that shit drive you out of taking a more active part in fandom, I’ve been there, and I get it. But you can still come back; not just on your private Tumblr, or your secret AO3 account, but for real and any time. One of the most freeing choices I’ve made is to stop pretending I think all of this is stupid. The world needs more quirky, eccentric women, anyways.

Sorry this one is so long, but apparently I have FEELINGS this month — especially after the Bog of Eternal Stench I had to trot through while researching this one — and there are a lot of people who’ve articulated them better than I did here (see the following meta recs). I promise we’ll move on next week! As always, let the authors know you appreciated their work by engaging however you can. And if you ever feel alienated on this site, please feel welcome to talk to me! 💛

Fandom - Ageism

Adults in Fandom by @littlesystems, [...] There are a lot of different factors at play with the current fandom purity thing. It’s primarily being driven by minors, which is why I’ve used that as a stand-in, but there are older people who are obsessed with this and younger people who aren’t. Nuance! Exciting stuff. I think the two biggest drivers here are a genuine but misguided desire to make fandom a better place, paired with plain ol’ run-of-the-mill sexism. I’m not the first person to say this and I know others have said it better, but here are my two cents. (Mirror Link)

Age and Experience in Fandom by @tppfandomstats, This month’s @threepatchpodcast episode, When I’m 64, looks at fandom and aging. To go along with these discussions, here are some demographic stats from a few fandom surveys on the age distribution in our online fandom communities. (Mirror Link)

Age Appropriate Activities by @telesilla, So this post, another in a long series of “find a bridge club you embarrassing old ladies” posts, came around. And I adulted hard all day and it just really pissed me off and caught me at a bad time. (Mirror Link)

Ageism in Fandom by @badtech-reblogs, Seeing yet another post about ageism in fandom and I’m trying to do some root cause analysis. That ageism in fandom is tied up with misogyny is a given. There is almost no age too young to start ridiculing a woman for her hobbies and interests, and even young girls are expected to have a maturity and patience beyond their years. The misogyny is coming in from the larger world outside of fandom like how misogyny, ableism, anti-blackness etc. seeps into all subcultures. (Mirror Link)

Ageism in Fandom: Too Old to Fangirl? by @ravenmorganleigh, @vulgarweed, et al. Most Fandoms are comprised mostly of women, young and old. It’s interesting to me when Young Women– who are the most likely to champion women’s rights can turn around and show their youth-bias when it comes to Older Women in Fandom. (Mirror Link)

Fandom culture wouldn’t be where it is now if it wasn’t for Old Fandom by @thepalmtoptiger, I almost forgot that ageism in fandom is a thing. Apparently once you hit 25/30 years old you’re supposed to stop having interests in things. People need to freshen up on their fandom history and realize that fandom now wouldn’t be what it is if it wasn’t for older fans. (Mirror Link)

Getting older doesn’t actually feel like anything by @catchmewhispering, The hilarious thing about growing up, that all the ageist people here are gonna very harshly realise, is getting older doesn’t actually feel like anything. You don’t “turn into” an adult, it’s just another year that passes and, sure, it might become easier to make decisions or figure out how to fix a sticky situation but overall, you don’t suddenly Enter Adult World and never have a goofy thought or a messy moment ever again. (Mirror Link)

The idea that you will someday be ‘too old’ for the stuff you find fun by @freedom-of-fanfic, [...] The idea that you will someday be ‘too old’ for the stuff you find fun now is a long-standing cultural message that I’m sure many anti-shippers - many adolescents of all stripes - have absorbed. that message caused adolescent me to think I would outgrow fandom, and I don’t think that message has particularly changed. (Mirror Link)

If other people in fandom are older than you, by definition, they have been your age by @codenamecesare, [...] If other people in fandom are older than you, by definition, they have been your age. When fans write about younger characters, we’re not peering through a keyhole at young people now and creeping on them. We are drawing on our own experiences, thoughts, feelings and memories of what it was like when we were that age. (Mirror Link)

I’m old as balls by @warlordenfilade, [...] Just realize that with 30+ year old franchises there will be 30+ year old people who grew up with the franchise and still love it. Tumblr may be a relatively recent platform but fandom as an institution is waaaay older than I am and the Transformers fandom in particular has fans in their 40s and 50s whom I am personally acquainted with, fans who have adapted from photocopy fanzines and snail mail mailing lists to bulletin boards, newsgroups, forums, and, yeah, tumblr, in their many years of fandom. (Mirror Link)

I wish we’d stop telling each other - and ourselves - that there’s a point at which we’re too old for fandom by @vantasticmess, I spent every year from 14 to 25 telling myself that eventually I’d grow out of fandom: I would get too old to cosplay and I would write my own original stories instead of ‘just’ fanfiction. After all, adults don’t write fanfic and adults don’t make costumes for themselves. Adults get married and have kids and make costumes for their kids and write real stories and get published. (Mirror Link)

“like, i’m not saying that adults don’t have a place in fandom.” by @porcupine-girl, @melifair, et al. [...] Fandom is vast and encompasses a multitude of interests and age groups. We all fandom responsibly, and those who abuse that at the expense of someone vulnerable or impressionable are not tolerated. This does not mean that anyone specific group of fandom should be limited. Nor does it mean that the only entertainment media created ever should be accessible to all viewing audiences. Young fandom will grow to understand this, not only in fandom but in life. (Mirror Link)

“Lmao 30-year-old women don’t belong in fandoms. Go knit or have kids or something.” by @rainbowloliofjustice, @the-salt, et al. [...] It’s the fact I don’t get what these people think happens when you turn 18 it’s not like the second you turn 18 you just immediately lose interest in everything you were interested in at 17 and from then on only like strictly ‘adult™’ things. A lot of people who were in fandoms as teenagers stay in fandoms as adulthood. Fandoms aren’t minor-only spaces and never have been and there’s literally nothing wrong with adults in fandom environments. (Mirror Link)

Older fans are crucial to the survival of fandoms by @muchymozzarella, [...] Not ONLY because they’re literally the ones keeping fandom afloat (AO3 wasn’t created or maintained by kids, let’s just say), but because older fans generally don’t attack or bully or fuck up a fandom by being aggressive or volatile or overzealous, destroying any enjoyment of a medium. (Mirror Link)

PSA by @bugsieplusone, I’ve been sitting on this post for a while because it probably reveals more about me on a platform that I’d rather not reveal but here goes. I’d like to talk about fandom and ageism. If you are older, you are: Allowed to like things, Allowed to create fan works, Allowed to discuss things with other like minded fans, Allowed to participate. (Mirror Link)

Reblog if Older Fans Are Welcome In Fandom by @cameoamalthea, For many fandom is a life long passion that starts young, but being a geek isn’t something you have to grow out of and put away. I didn’t start cosplaying until my 20s (I couldn’t have, and probably won’t be financially secure enough to do all the things I want until my 30s). (Mirror Link)

tumblr’s disgust for older people in fandom by @bai-xue, @awkward-smiley; [...] I’m young now, but I was scared that I wouldn’t be over fandoms when I got older. I’m sick of it, how about we all just like what we like and not judge people? (Mirror Link)

you are never too old for fandom by @hils79, [...] You are never too old for fandom and if you think that’s true I pity you when you reach whatever arbitrary age you think is the cutoff point. (Mirror Link)

You are reinforcing a stereotype by @asocialjusticeleague, @olderthannetfic, et al; [...] Whenever you question a woman’s right to this space because of her age or parental status, you are reinforcing a stereotype that has effects that reach beyond that one situation. The expectation, for example, that 40 year old men be catered to when writing comics, but that characters of interest to 40 year old women are obsolete or unprofitable. (Mirror Link)

#meta #fandom #antis #ageism #age #women #meta monday #fangirlrecs #mm41

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purrincess-chat · 6 years

Text

More Than Just a Friend CH3

I finished! This chapter is a ride, but hopefully it’s an enjoyable one~

Read on AO3

Chapter Three

Adrien felt energized in the days following his dinner with Marinette. He spent a lot more time at the Dupain-Cheng household, having dinner, playing video games, enjoying afternoon tea with Marinette and her mother. There was no sign of the crying boy from the other night, and his high spirits transferred into other aspects of his life too.

“Oof!” Kagami grunted as Adrien knocked her back and scored another touch. “You've certainly been in a good mood lately.”

“I've got amazing friends. Why wouldn't I be in a good mood?” He said, offering a hand to help her up, though she swatted it away and stood up on her own.

“Friends? Or friend? You've gotten chummy with Marinette lately,” She pointed out with a sly grin, and Adrien chuckled good naturedly.

“I'm enjoying spending time with her. Is that so wrong?” He asked with a shrug.

“Not at all. I think it's good for you, and I actually have a challenging opponent now.” Kagami lunged forward, and Adrien parried, quickly delivering a riposte.

“I had dinner with her family the other night. Mr. Dupain is an amazing cook, and they're so interested in what I'm doing. It's nice to be around people who actually show up to dinner and want to talk to me,” He said as their sabers clashed.

“Well, I'm glad you've made nice with the in laws. Send me an invite to the wedding.” She said with a laugh, driving him back.

“I will.”

Kagami stopped short as their blades clashed above their heads and pushed her helmet up with her free hand.

“You certainly have a different attitude now than you did a few days ago,” She remarked.

“I've just kind of accepted it at this point. Besides, there are worse people to have everyone think I'm in a relationship with. I mean, it could be Chloe,” He said pointedly.

“No, it couldn't.”

“Yeah, you're right…” They both shuttered a little. “By the way, are you going to her pool party later?”

“I planned to. Kim challenged me to a chicken fight, and I don't intend to lose.” A competitive glint flashed in her eyes that Adrien knew all too well, but it fizzled out just as quickly as it had come. “What about you?”

“I have a photoshoot beforehand. Swimsuit catalog.” He shrugged. “But I’m planning to stay afterward.”

“Convenient.” Kagami nodded, pursing her lips. “Will your girlfriend be there?”

“I had to convince her to come, and Chloe to invite her. The feud between those two is deep seated,” He sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Do you think I could fix them?”

“Not unless Chloe gets a major attitude adjustment.”

“Yeah, that’s the challenge. I can see Marinette being the bigger person, but Chloe…” He shook his head. “Maybe I’ll just stick to helping them avoid each other for now.”

“Probably a wise choice,” Kagami concurred. “Have fun at your photoshoot!”

* * *

“Adrikins!” Chloe latched onto his neck and peppered his cheeks with kisses the moment he walked through the doors to the lobby.

“Hey, Chlo,” Adrien said with a nervous laugh as she linked her arm through his and led him to the elevator.

“So, for what purpose did you have me invite that dirty brat anyway? She’s going to ruin the whole party with her ugly swimsuit. Though, I suppose Myléne is coming too, so I guess she won’t be the worst dressed…” Chloe remarked, examining her nails, and Adrien suppressed an audible sigh.

“Chloe, have you ever considered that you and Marinette could be friends if you’d stop being so mean to her?” He winced sheepishly when her head snapped to face him, eyes narrowing into an icy glare.

“And why would I want to be friends with her? I honestly can’t fathom why you even bother either,” She said bluntly, placing her free hand on her hip.

“I suppose that answers that,” He grumbled under his breath. It was worth a shot anyway.

“Do you need me to be in your photoshoot with you? I’m sure they’ll sell way more magazines if I’m on the cover.” She asked, fluffing her pony tail.

“Uh, I think I’ll be fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck, untwining his arm from hers.

“Well, if you change your mind I’ll be in my room.” She winked, and Adrien offered an unconvincing grin.

“Adrien, my boy. Let me see that pretty face of yours!” Vincent cheered, grabbing Adrien’s chin and tilting his face every which way. “You are looking very good, ah who am I kidding? You always look good, but today there is this glow about you, no?”

“Uh, is there?” He shrugged his shoulders, as he was ushered off to makeup and wardrobe.

While his makeup artist set up, he took the opportunity to pull out his phone and send a text to Marinette. Normally he’d leave his phone in the car for a shoot, but he could indulge a little while he got ready. Besides, he was attending a party afterward, so it was better that he had it on him anyway.

You’re still coming to the party, right?

Across town, Marinette examined another swimsuit in the mirror, turning to see different angles. She’d already tried on three different suits, but she wanted to look her best for when she saw Adrien. Initially, she hadn't planned on going since it was Chloe’s party, but Adrien had asked her to go himself! She just couldn’t say no to those eyes.

“Tikki, what do you think about this one?” She asked aloud, adjusting her top.

“I think it looks just as good as the last one,” Her kwami complimented cheerfully.

“Yeah, but the last one wasn’t good enough. I want Adrien to notice me,” She said with a pout. “Can you imagine, Tikki? Adrien in his swim trunks, the sun reflecting off that golden hair. What if he asks me to rub sunscreen on his back? Oh, Tikki, I’ll just melt!”

“This is coming from the same girl who hugged him while he cried at dinner just a few nights ago,” Her kwami recalled, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a pointed brow.

“Well, that was different. He looked so sad, and he needed someone to be there for him.” A small frown curled on her lips as she recounted that night, cradling him in her arms. He’d felt so fragile, and she had no idea what he was hiding underneath his usual sunniness.

The chime of her phone snapped her out of her trance, and she paced over to read the message, nearly dropping her phone in excitement when she saw who it was from. Adrien was checking in on her! He wanted to make sure she was coming to the party which meant that he wanted her to be there which meant that he was looking forward to seeing her! Right?

Yeah! I’ll totally be there! She sent back before tossing her phone aside on the chaise and tugging on her pigtails.

“Okay, Tikki, out of all three swimsuits, which one is your favorite?” She asked frantically. “The pink one piece with the frills, the tankini with stripes, or this bikini with pink polka dots?”

“I think you look good in all of them, and I’m sure Adrien will think so too.” Tikki said, and Marinette scowled with disapproval for her answer. “But if you’re looking to catch his attention then I think that one will work best.”

“Okay. Then it’s going to have to do,” She said, pulling on her cover dress and stepping into her sandals. “We’re gonna be late, come on!”

Adrien smiled down at the message contently before he was ushered out onto the pool deck. Hopefully they could wrap this shoot up quickly, and he could have time to decompress before the party. Plus he could mentally prepare for dealing with Chloe and Marinette at the same time. As much as he wanted to spend time with Marinette, he knew Chloe would have a thing or two to say about it, and once one went off, the other was soon to follow.

He had often wondered why those two hated each other so much, but he supposed it probably had something to do with Chloe being...Chloe. It was still so strange to him that the Chloe he knew growing up was someone completely different around others, and part of him believed that if Marinette could get to know the Chloe he did that they could be friends. Not that he foresaw that happening any time soon, but a boy could dream, couldn’t he?

“No, no, you are losing focus,” His photographer growled, leaning his head back in exasperation. “He needs something to keep his attention. Can we get a beach ball or a-”

Adrien followed his gaze to find what he had fixated on to see Marinette timidly surveying the scene from the door. What was she doing here so early? Had she come to watch his shoot?

“You, girl!” Vincent pointed, and she startled a little.

“Sorry! I-I didn’t know you were in the middle of something. I’ll just wait downstairs.” She gestured with her thumb, but Vincent shook his head.

“No, no, come here. Let me look at you.” Vincent beckoned her, and she approached cautiously, uncertain of what to expect as he looked her over, tilting her head, lifting her arms, touching her hair. “Get her in a Gabriel suit and some makeup, but lightly! Don’t cover up those freckles.”

“You- what? What is happening?” Marinette squeaked as a team of people toted her off, and Adrien winced sympathetically, knowing all too well how insistent they could be.

“We’re going to give you someone to flirt with for a few shots to get your mind back in this thing. Don’t worry, we won’t print any of them, so just have fun, eh?” Vincent nudged him with his elbow.

“Uh, sure.” Adrien shrugged, and within a few minutes Marinette reemerged dressed in a Gabriel brand bikini and light makeup. He felt his cheeks flush a little seeing her so exposed, but when she seemed uncertain, he gave her a reassuring smile.

“There she is. Perfecto! Now, don’t worry about the camera. The camera loves you, so just act natural but also fun and flirty. Pretend that you like each other,” He instructed, gesturing to Adrien before pulling up his camera.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just focus on me, okay?” He whispered as she took her place by his side, and he placed a hand on her hip. “What are you doing here so early anyway?”

“I thought the party started at noon,” She said, smiling up at him under Vincent’s direction.

“No, it starts at 2.” He replied through a grin, pulling her closer and touching his forehead to hers.

“Excellent! Keep it up! Feel the summer romance!” Vincent cheered from the sidelines.

“Your text said 12.” She said pointedly, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Oops.” He winced.

“Less chit chat, more goo-goo eyes!”

“Is he always like this?” Marinette whispered as they readjusted.

“Just be glad he’s not talking about spaghetti.” She laughed at that, and Adrien couldn’t help it either.

“Good! You two are happy to be together!”

They managed to contain themselves only to break down again when their eyes met for a different shot. For the first time in a while, Adrien was enjoying himself on a shoot. Sure, modeling was fun, but sometimes his shoots were just so routine. He hadn’t had genuine fun like this on a shoot before, and he used the energy to be a bit bolder with his poses, running his fingers through her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist, gazing lovingly into her eyes…

Of course it was all just acting. He knew what it felt like to be in love, and seeing as Marinette was a good friend, being around her was easy and natural. It wasn’t hard to push past the boundary of friendship into love, and when Vincent finally sent her away, he felt a twinge of longing, wishing to reach out and insist she stay. He could have spent hours with her, but he knew that their time was limited and finished up the rest of the shoot quickly.

“Alya, you won’t believe what happened!” Marinette latched onto her the moment she walked through the door. “I got to be in a photoshoot with Adrien!”

“No way! Girl, give us the scoop,” Alya demanded, pulling her aside followed by the rest of the girls asking questions.

“Well, I got the time wrong, so I showed up two hours early, and Adrien was in the middle of a shoot. His photographer saw me standing in the doorway and decided to put me in to help Adrien. I felt like I was floating.” She clasped her hands together over her heart with a dreamy sigh. “He’s so professional, and we had to snuggle close together. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest!”

“You have got to get your hands on those pics, girl,” Alya said, and the rest of the girls nodded in agreement.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I mean, they probably deleted them anyway.”

“Bummer. You could have added them to your Adrien wall,” Alya teased, nudging Marinette with her elbow.

“Hey! Not so loud!” Her cheeks flushed as she clamped a hand over her friend’s mouth, and they all erupted into a fit of laughter.

Kagami stood by just close enough to overhear their conversation, and a smile curved on her lips. When she saw Adrien emerge on the deck again, she made her way over to him purposefully. He examined her smug expression with narrowed eyes, laying his towel over one shoulder then folding his arms over his chest.

“You modeled with Marinette today.” Was all she said, and Adrien cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah, it was my photographer’s idea,” He said with a shrug. “It was fun. Marinette has good energy.”

“That she does.” Kagami nodded in agreement. “I think you two work well together.”

“We’re good friends,” He stated curtly. “How long are you going to be on this idea that I’m in love with her?”

“Just until you realize it,” She said with a smirk before sauntering away casually, and Adrien pursed his lips sourly.

“Adrien!” He turned to see Marinette waving to him from across the deck, and his countenance brightened as he moved to meet her halfway.

“Adrikins!” Chloe cut in, tackling him affectionately and planting kisses on his cheeks, knocking Marinette into the pool in the process. “There you are. Come sit with me.”

He flashed Marinette an apologetic wince, and she rolled her eyes but offered him a reassuring smile, knowing all too well how clingy Chloe could be. Still, Chloe wasn’t entirely impossible to escape, and once she distracted herself with ordering Kim around, Adrien slipped away. The only problem was he couldn’t see Marinette anywhere. He spotted Kagami lounging in a chair across the pool, and she pointed down purposefully, so he gave an appreciative wave and sneaked over to the stairs.

Marinette was down below at the bar, chatting casually with Myléne and Alix when he approached. Her friends exchanged scandalous looks when he greeted, and quickly excused themselves back up to the pool deck. He didn’t bother paying them any mind, as he was quite used to their classmates’ antics by this point, and he wanted to speak to her privately anyway.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” She asked, swirling her drink a little.

“I’m enjoying it a lot more now that I got away from Chloe,” He said, and Marinette rewarded him with a laugh. “I’m kidding. She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”

“I dunno. I feel like I know her pretty well, and she’s still pretty bad,” Marinette said pointedly, taking a sip of her juice.

“I guess it’s different for me than it is for you…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I know you’re not a model, but for what it’s worth, I had way more fun with you than I ever have with a real model.”

She perked up at that, a smile brightening her features. “I was really nervous, but I dunno, I liked it...Hey, is there any way you could get your hands on those photos?”

“Vincent usually sends them all to my father, but I’m sure if I asked him I could get copies of the ones we took together. I’m sure he won’t mind.” He shrugged, and she giggled giddily, seemingly pleased by that response.

“Awesome! I just want to put them on my wall,” She said then, seeming to catch herself, added, “N-Not that I just put up pictures of you on my wall or anything. I mean, there are some, but I put up lots of pictures of my friends around my room. It’s not weird.”

“Really? That’s so awesome of you.” His eyebrows raised in surprise, and she twisted a strand of hair around her finger guiltily. “I’ll hang up some of us in my room too.”

“You’re going to put pictures of us on your wall?” Her eyes widened, and he backpedaled quickly.

“I- um, is that okay?” She blinked a couple of times before shifting her gaze to her lap and nodding. “Can I...request one thing?”

“What is it?” She looked up again, and he felt his cheeks heat up when her eyes met his.

“Uh, can we take a couple more together? Some not professional ones just...with my phone?” She stared at him in shock for several moments, and he averted his gaze with a wince. “It’s dumb, sorry. We don’t have to.”

“No, no, no!” She waved her hands frantically. “I want to. I would love to take pictures with you.”

He smiled jovially, pulling his phone from his pocket and draping an arm over her shoulders. She eyed his arm for a moment, a delighted grin replacing her shocked gape as she leaned her head against his, and after a couple serious pictures, Adrien made a goofy face, prompting a laugh from Marinette, a soft, melodic sound he could get used to hearing. As such, he made several more faces, seeking reward in her laughter as she made a few of her own. It wasn’t often that he got to take pictures like that, so he looked over them fondly when they finished.

“I’ll send you these if you want. I’d love it if you hung them up,” He said, glancing up from his phone.

“Y-Yeah, totally!” She said with a nervous titter. “So, should we get back to the party?”

“You go on up, I’ll just be a sec,” He said, waving her on, and as she climbed up the steps back to the pool deck, his phone buzzed in his hands with a new email from his photographer. Strange. He never usually got emails from him.

Great stuff today! I was reviewing the film and thought that you might want some of these since they’ll never see the light of day otherwise. You two make a great team!

Au revoir,

Vincent

Adrien clicked the attachment and downloaded the photos, swiping through them with a small smile. They really did look like they were in love, and even he was convinced of it by the end. He’d come to terms with people believing it, and it didn’t bother him per se, though he didn’t want it to impact Marinette in any way. From the day they met, Adrien had always considered Marinette a friend, and he valued her friendship more than anything. Marinette was kind and nurturing, brave and self-sacrificing, talented beyond compare yet so humble and meek…

He lingered on the last photo, fixated on the light in his own eyes when looking at her. Maybe there was a reason that so many people believed that they were in love if he always looked at her with such fondness. Marinette had always been an enigma to him, but someone he wanted to be close to. Were those feelings really deeper than he realized this whole time? Could he be in love with her, and just not know it?

His heart hammered hard in his chest, and the temperature in the room seemed to rise in an instant. Was he in love with Marinette? No. He couldn’t be. He only had eyes for Ladybug...right? After all, she was amazing and smart and beautiful, and...so was Marinette. But Ladybug was a superhero and his partner! Not that any of that really mattered to him, but it was different because he was a superhero too!

Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the bar and sighed. Maybe he did have feelings for Marinette. Somehow they’d snuck up on him and made themselves at home. How long had he felt this way about her without realizing? How long had other people seen it when he had no clue? All that time paying special attention to her over everyone else, silently rooting for her, taking extra care around her to make her feel more comfortable. How had he never noticed before? How had he never realized that he was in love with Marinette?

The thought of it left him dumbstruck, completely and utterly speechless. He was in love with Marinette. It was a simple statement, and yet it made his palms clammy and his heart flutter. One small sentence running through his brain held so much power over him and filled him with so much turmoil and happiness and confusion.

Oh, Kagami was never going to let him live this down, but Marinette was incredible. Every bit as incredible as Ladybug, and she did it all without the mask. She found a way to be a hero in her own right, looking after others, giving her time and talents freely to help anywhere she could. She’d even saved Adrien when he needed it most, and remembering the way she held him tightly in his moment of weakness made his feelings much less muddled and scary. The feelings were there, clear as day, and he accepted them just as he had with Ladybug. Of course, he still loved Ladybug dearly, but now Marinette was there too, burning just as passionately.

Perhaps it was time to stop delaying the inevitable. Ladybug had rejected him after all, and so long as Hawkmoth was around, he doubted that she would ever change her mind. But Marinette and Adrien didn’t have to worry about Hawkmoth. With Marinette, he didn’t have to focus on a mission or figuring out a way to keep everyone safe when they were together. He could just be with her, and something about that realization brought a smile to his lips as he traced her steps up the stairs back out to the pool where the classmates had all gathered.

“C’mon, Marinette! You’re up!” Alix was saying when Adrien joined the scene.

“Uh, I dunno. I’m not really good at chicken...” Marinette ran her hands along one of her pigtails. “Besides, I don’t have anyone to partner with.”

“I’ll do it,” Adrien volunteered, and all heads snapped to face him.

“You- wha-”

“Then it’s settled. Let’s go!” Kim beckoned them, and Marinette stood agape while Adrien emptied his pockets and slipped into the pool.

“Climb on my shoulders,” He said, kneeling down in the water.

“Are you sure- I mean, is it okay?” She cupped her cheeks with furrowed brows, biting her lip.

“Totally! I think we can take them. Let’s show them what we’re made of.” He winked encouragingly, and after a slight hesitation, Marinette awkwardly climbed on his shoulders, balancing as he stood up and took position across from Kim.

“The rules are simple: The first one to knock the opponent off of their base’s shoulders is the winner,” Max explained, holding up an arm. “Ready! And...fight!”

Alix and Marinette locked hands, pressing against each other with equal strength. Adrien was a bit surprised by how well Marinette held up. She was stronger than she looked which only made him like her more. Maybe he had a thing for small girls who packed a mean punch.

“Come on, M!” Alya cheered from the sides.

“Knock her off, Alix!”

“You’re tougher than you look, Marinette,” Alix complimented with a grunt.

“Thanks, I, uh, lift a lot of flour at the bakery,” She said, gaining the upper hand and shoving Alix off-balance enough to teeter her off Kim’s shoulders.

The crowd was a mixture of boos and cheers from their friends, and several of them shouted taunts at Kim and Alix for losing. Adrien offered a hand to help Marinette down before extending his fist to her with a wide grin.

“You were amazing,” He said, gently trailing his thumb along her shoulder and bringing a blush to her cheeks.

“Hey!” They turned to see Kagami perched challengingly atop their fencing buddy’s shoulders. “My turn.”

Adrien and Marinette stiffened, exchanging nervous glances as their friends broke out into more taunts and cheers. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through all the way, but before he could back out, Marinette tugged his shoulders back down and climbed up once more.

“Let’s show them what we got.” She winked when he shot her a questioning look, and he echoed her determined grin as they lined up.

“You’re going down, Marinette!” Kim yelled as he and Alix took their seats along the edge, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“This is gonna be over quick.”

Marinette’s confidence never faltered as they started the round, and Kagami surged forward aggressively. To his surprise, Marinette held her own, shoving back and refusing to be overtaken. Kagami seemed irked by this and pushed harder, forcing Adrien back a step, but he planted his feet and kept his balance.

“You are stronger than you look, but I’m stronger!” Kagami pushed back against Marinette’s hands hard, gaining the advantage as Marinette’s back bent, and she waved her arms in an attempt to regain control.

However, Kagami celebrated too early because Marinette found her hold as she shifted to catch Adrien’s shoulder with both hands, swinging her legs around to kick Kagami from her perch before awkwardly flailing onto one of his shoulders. He caught her before she could slip off, holding her up as their friends erupted into cheers of disbelief, and Adrien felt a new sense of admiration and awe.

“That was totally awesome!” Alix gaped. “You’ve got to teach me that move!”

“You were amazing!” Adrien breathed up at her, and she giggled, running a hand along the back of her neck before Adrien felt his foot get pulled out from underneath him, sending them both toppling backwards into the water.

When they resurfaced, Kagami stood with her arms crossed and a displeased scowl on her lips. Adrien turned to help Marinette, ensuring that she was okay and pushing wet hair out of her face with a worried frown. He scooped her up, despite her insistence that she was okay, and she covered her face in embarrassment as they turned to face Kagami again who wore a much different smirk this time. She gave Adrien a pointed look, and he bit back a smile and shrugged as he carried Marinette over to the steps and out of the pool, setting her down gently on a chair where Alya wrapped a towel around her shoulders.

As their classmates flocked around her to gush, Adrien couldn’t wipe the smile from his lips. It seemed as if he had found himself a new partner, and this time, he intended to win her heart.

#miraculous ladybug #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #my writing #more than just a friend #adrinetteapril2018

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kinghoranshit · 3 years

Text

This is Love (LT) Ch 18

Word Count: 1,976

The soft cry of Daisy filled my ears through the baby monitor. Despite how exhausted I felt, I didn't complain as I started to get up. Someone gently touched my upper arm and I looked back at Louis.

"I've got her, my love. You sleep."

I only nodded and laid my head back down on the pillow. But it was no secret I wouldn't sleep until she stopped crying. Soon, I could hear Louis talking to her.

"What are you crying about little love? Mum's trying to sleep. I'm trying. You should try... Are you hun- oh no."

I laughed to myself. Daisy hadn't stopped her fit as Louis talked, and she only quieted down some after he changed her.

Louis's soft, slightly raspy voice flowed through the baby monitor as he sang.

"You can't go to bed without a cup of tea. Maybe that's the reason you talk in your sleep..."

A smile spread on my lips as I drifted off into sleep.

***

Louis carried Daisy in his arms as our feet sunk in the sand. I held her carrier and the duffle with diapers, bottles, spit up rags, extra binkies, clothes, a few toys, wipes, etc. We had everything.

Despite how inseparable Katie and I were before, we hadn't seen each other in a few weeks. Of course, her and Niall visited to see Daisy, but I didn't leave the house much with her. Nothing had quieted down yet; not in this fandom. I'd still left a couple times with Lou for store runs and coffee outings. That was it though. With Katie so close, we didn't need to risk anything.

Our risk level today went out to a cliff and jumped off with no hesitation. The four of us met up at the beach. Well, not four, there are five, couldn't forget the little one, and technically it was six if you counted the little one in Katie.

I made a funny face at Katie when we made eye contact. As we hugged, Katie asked, "Whose bright idea was this?"

"I think I recall it being yours, love."

"I don't know. We're too exposed, and I look like a fucking whale."

Louis scoffed, "Watch the mouth."

Niall came over, furrowing his eyebrows. "She can't understand our words yet. Also, your mouth is worse." He wrapped his arms around Katie and pecked her on the cheek. "And you're a beautiful whale."

Katie rolled her eyes. "Okay, Horan."

"I'm telling the truth, love," he scoffed.

"Yeah? Sometimes lying would be better."

"I said you were beautiful!"

Katie pointed a finger at him. "But you still said I was a whale."

Now, Niall rolled his eyes.

I laughed a little at their banter. Daisy made sounds of delight and it made me laugh even more. I turned around to look at her and I babied, "Are uncle Niall and aunt Katie funny? Are they? Yes, they are!"

Her blue-green eyes lit up and she smiled. For three months old, she definitely showed her emotions. It was pretty easy to tell. And she had some hair grown in; it looked red at the moment. Lou and I had a bet going on as to what color her hair would actually be. Of course, I was betting it'd be red and curly like mine.

I reached out to take her from Lou and cradled her in my arms. Immediately, her hands clung onto one of the shoulder straps of my red, white polka dotted one-piece. It was better that than my hair, which I put up into a ponytail for two reasons--cause it's hot out and so she didn't pull on it.

"Hey, Lou, love, could you please lay out the blanket?" I asked as I bounced Daisy a bit and held her tiny hand so she wouldn't grip my swimsuit anymore. She had started to reach for the bow in the front.

"Of course," he replied, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I blushed. You'd think I'd get over the open affection in public.

Lou pulled out the neon rainbow striped blanket and laid it out onto the sand, so perfectly there weren't any wrinkles. He was such a perfectionist sometimes. I may or may not have been the one to push him to get better with cleaning up after himself. It was a good change to make.

I noticed Niall had taken off his white tee and only wore his sunset patterned trunks now. He looked at Katie and gestured towards the water. "You coming?"

Katie gave him a look. "You honestly think- Yes, I'm coming."

Niall only smirked and shook his head. He took her hand in his and they walked out to the shore.

"How long do you think she'll stay there?" Lou asked, pulling his own black tee off and only wore his navy blue trunks.

I shrugged. "I can't imagine long. The water is probably gonna be too cold for her. Also, she won't be able to take the wave hits."

He nodded with a slight smirk. "I give her ten minutes. Max."

"I say five," I bargained.

We looked at each other and stated, "Deal."

I settled Daisy and I on the blanket. Daisy sat in her yellow, white polka dot bikini with a small blow up beach ball in her hands and I sat down with a book. Not just any book-- Katie's. It was called 'Grey Eyes'. I remembered planning this one with her, but she never let me read it. And then she went out and actually got it published. That little noob.

So far, it was a really good read. Of course, I vaguely remember what was going to happen. For the most part, it was all a surprise to me.

"Damn that water is cold," Katie cursed as she grabbed a towel from their bag and wrapped herself up in it.

I looked over at Louis. "I win."

He rolled his eyes. "You, two, lovelies enjoy your chat." He jogged out to the water where Niall was messing around with this other guy he must have just met. Oh wait, no, it was Ollie. I didn't know he was coming. That's alright. They'd have their lad time.

"What was that all about?"

"Lou and I made a bet as to how long you'd stay in the water. He said ten and I gave you five."

Katie bust out laughing. "I would've done the same if it was you."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't have gone in. I'm not going in today either."

"That's so true. And you wore a swimsuit why then?" Katie cocked a brow.

"Katie, it's a beach. You're supposed to wear a swimsuit."

She rolled her eyes. "Not always."

Daisy gurgled a little and made a slight cry.

"Oh no, is someone not happy?" Katie babied and reached over as well as she could to pick her up. She rested Daisy on her belly so she was sitting on it. Katie continued to make faces and she pretended to bite her fingers, which made Daisy giggle now.

I smiled. "You seem to have the parenting down already."

"Pft. Just this part. Taking care of Daisy for her first couple weeks was a disaster. I'm terrified for when our son is finally here."

"You got dis!" I cheered, making her laugh under her breath.

"Thanks, Mads. You know... This didn't turn out to be that bad of an idea."

My eyes went wide and I shook a finger at her. "Don't say that! Now it's gonna end badly."

"You're being paranoid," Katie replied, beginning to bounce Daisy now. "Plus, with one call, there will be guards here in five minutes flat."

"Right..." I nodded slowly. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Katie brought Harold. I smiled widely and reached out to grab his case. Then I proceeded to take him out.

Katie made a gasp of excitement. "Is mom going to sing to you?"

I smirked a little. "No... Aunt Katie is."

Katie looked like she lost a little bit of blood. "What?"

"Sing Fairytale, please? I'll strum. I remember," I stated, giving her an encouraging smile.

I could tell she was debating it. Then she looked as if she told herself a mental 'fuck it' and she nodded. "Alright."

As Katie started to sing the first words, I came in with the strumming.

"It was like a fairy tale. I was your princess. You were my prince.

Along came the wicked witch. Cast a spell on you. Locked me up in the tower.

If you could break the curse. You'd come get me out. Be my night in shining armor.

Oh, how sweet, our story. We were meant to be. Alas, you don't remember me..."

She sung the rest, smiling, and made 'oops' faces when she thought it was an awful note. I noticed a few people start to crowd around and Katie held Daisy closer to her. Both for protection and comfort.

The small crowd of beach people clapped when the song came to an end and we said our thank yous. They didn't stay long after that, which was okay. They didn't seem to be adequate fans of One Direction where they'd know who we were. They just wanted to stop to hear the song, that's it.

I started to play 'Somewhere in Neverland' as Katie built a sandcastle "with" Daisy. Daisy sat next to her and watched, playing with some of the sand herself. She didn't know what it was and it intrigued her enough to get her hands dirty. A bath would be in order later anyways.

The rest of the day was quiet as the boys did their thing and we did ours. Eventually, we all gathered to head back to Lou and I's house for dinner.

"Mads, we should make your chocolate chip cookies too. I'm craving them so bad," Katie stated, starting to set the bag strap on her shoulder, but Niall ended up grabbing it from her. Her response was to roll her eyes and she mumbled, "I had it."

I made a small laugh. "Of course."

There was a time back when we were going to school and it was the summer before our second year, where Katie was on mother nature. She was so irritable that week. Normally, she didn't really take anyone's shit, but that week she really wasn't. Especially with the two kids we used to nanny. That day though, I was nannying them, and she texted me. I decided to make some chocolate chip cookies for her, and the boys. I couldn't get a recipe to load, so I made up my own. My family picked them apart, but Katie loved them and everyone else loved them.

My smile faded as I heard a side comment from a guy walking by us.

"Look. It's the pregnant cunt and the Irish dickhead. Their baby will look like a little gremlin, I'm sure of it."

My eyes went wide and I gasped a little. My gaze went straight to the two who were the target. Katie and Niall's faces were emotionless and they continued to walk. Didn't say a single word. Honestly, I was shocked. I almost wanted to say something.

"Hey! That wasn't very nice, dickbag!"

My statement made no difference as the guy was already gone.

Katie snickered, "Dickbag?"

"Aren't you upset?" I asked, genuinely concerned, and also didn't want to talk about the horrible name I came up with in a matter of seconds.

"Not really." She shrugged. "Like you put it, he's a dickbag." She looked over at Niall, smirking a bit. "Besides, if he does turn out to look like a little gremlin, he'll be the cutest damn gremlin ever."

Niall stifled back a laugh as we finished packing up the vehicles.

Next: Ch 19

[Masterlist]

#Louis Tomlinson #LT #Louis Tomlinson fic #Louis Tomlinson fanfiction #LT fic #LT fanfiction #fic #fanfiction #romance #drama #comedy #This is Love

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malibu-92 · 6 years

Note

I dare you to answer all of them but skip the ones you've already answered

LETS DO THISthe numbers didn’t copy & i’m not going thru & adding them again fight meAA means already answered i guess

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

is your room messy or clean?

messy always

what color are your eyes?

blue!!

do you like your name? why?

i love it!! i think it’s pretty & uncommon

what is your relationship status?

lol

describe your personality in 3 words or less

awkward but confident

what color hair do you have?

naturally brown but it’s dyed auburn red!

what kind of car do you drive? color?

none lol

where do you shop?

my mom buys me clothes from kohl’s & jcpenney if i had a job & therefore my own money to spend i’d buy all of my clothes from this vintage thrift store downtown that i love

how would you describe your style?

favorite social media account

tumblr or pinterest

what size bed do you have?

twin

any siblings?

in theory

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

minnesota cuz it’s cold & there’s hippo campus

favorite snapchat filter?

i don’t have snapchat so idk

favorite makeup brand(s)

how many times a week do you shower?

favorite tv show?

the x files

shoe size?

9.5

how tall are you?

5’9”

sandals or sneakers?

sneakers

do you go to the gym?

describe your dream date

concert

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?

uhh i think a $20 & some change

what color socks are you wearing?

black & pink

how many pillows do you sleep with?

do you have a job? what do you do?

i babysit occasionally but nah

how many friends do you have?

idk enough

whats the worst thing you have ever done?

exist tbh

whats your favorite candle scent?

hm probably rose but i also really like apple, pumpkin & vanilla scents

3 favorite boy names

idk but i rly like the name blaise

3 favorite girl names

there are so many to choose from…… i like names that start with k

favorite actor?

??? i don’t pay much attention to actors oof

favorite actress?

who is your celebrity crush?

zach sutton

favorite movie?

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

i used to all the time but i barely have time anymore!! my 2 faves are lord of the flies & to kill a mockingbird

money or brains?

do you have a nickname? what is it?

momo & pieps

how many times have you been to the hospital?

zero for myself but i’ve visited other people like maybe 7 or 8 times

top 10 favorite songs

do you take any medications daily?

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

what is your biggest fear?

how many kids do you want?

whats your go to hair style?

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

who is your role model?

what was the last compliment you received?

what was the last text you sent?

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

i cant remember honestly maybe like 9 or smth? i just kinda made that up

what is your dream car?

like a vintage volkswagen anything

opinion on smoking?

lung cancer

do you go to college?

im 16

what is your dream job?

writer

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

neither i wanna live downtown somewhere

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

yea

do you have freckles?

i don’t have a ton on my face but my arms are covered

do you smile for pictures?

yup

how many pictures do you have on your phone?

sooo many

have you ever peed in the woods?

nah

do you still watch cartoons?

when i babysit yea & i would definitely still watch the show gravity falls if it hadn’t ended

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

i’ve never tried wendys nuggs actually

Favorite dipping sauce?

bbq

what do you wear to bed?

one of my dad’s old t-shirts w shorts in the summer & fuzzy pants in the winter

have you ever won a spelling bee?

ish? i won a classroom spelling bee & i was supposed to go to like a local competition but i had a more important conflict

what are your hobbies?

reading & writing poetry, journaling, singing, dancing

can you draw?

kinda

do you play an instrument?

my own vocal chords

what was the last concert you saw?

i haven’t been to one in sooooo long omg. all the somewhat good bands have been at bars that i’m not allowed to go to & all my faves haven’t come to my city :/so it was the buzz beach ball music festival in kansas city in september, where i saw middle kids, marian hill, spoon, hippo campus & foster the people

tea or coffee?

coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

starbucks

do you want to get married?

at this point in time, no. very much subject to change

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

um i’m still trying to decide if the extremely slight & vague feelings i may or may not have qualify as a crush or not but for the sake of this question we’ll say they do & go with: c. h.

are you going to change your last name when you get married?

depends on their last name lol

what color looks best on you?

blue or burgundy i think

do you miss anyone right now?

yes

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

open cuz we have bad circulation upstairs

do you believe in ghosts?

undecided

what is your biggest pet peeve?

people saying “awww” with that stupid ass fake sympathetic smile when i tell them smth im upset about

last person you called?

my mom

favorite ice cream flavor?

mint chip

regular oreos or golden oreos?

regular duh i’m not a barbarian

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?

rainbow

what shirt are you wearing?

im wearing a blue & purple striped turtleneck

what is your phone background?

rn its a pic i took of a box of colorful sequins cuz i thought it was christmasy im probably gonna change it soon

are you outgoing or shy?

depends on who i’m with & how much caffeine i’ve had but usually shy i guess

do you like it when people play with your hair?

NO IF YOU TOUCH MY HAIR & I WILL SLAUGHTER YOU & YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY

do you like your neighbors?

it’s about half & half. i have a good friend who lives across the street from me & i live by some nice old people but i also have some neighbors who are complete assholes.

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?

at night yea

have you ever been high?

nah

have you ever been drunk?

nah

last thing you ate?

a rolo

favorite lyrics right now

“try to live up to the person you pretend to be” from mr. know-it-all by young the giant is a solid life motto

summer or winter?

winter

day or night?

night

dark, milk, or white chocolate?

milk

favorite month?

what is your zodiac sign

sagittarius

who was the last person you cried in front of?

my parents i think

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littlespacestars · 7 years

Text

Voltron Beach Headcanons

So, my mom and I have been traveling around and going to beaches and all that fun stuff until the lease for my apartment is up in a couple weeks. So, have some Voltron beach headcanons!

[[Art based on some headcanons]]

Shallura (established)

Shiro’s self conscious about the scars on his body and initially wears a wetsuit.

Eventually he becomes comfortable enough to just wear swim trunks, and Allura makes sure to apply a liberal amount of sunscreen on his scars every couple of hours.

Allura and Shiro nap and relax on the beach on their towels under the shade of an umbrella.

But you know after their nap they're going to tear it up on the waves and get competitive and playful.

They dominate at the game “chicken”. So much.

Especially when Allura’s carrying Shiro on her shoulders. No one can stand a chance against them. They're a powerful force when teamed together.

Lance was tackled off Hunk’s shoulders in seconds.

He saw his life flash before his eyes and then afterwards he high fived Shiro because it was so awesome.

If you thought they were unstoppable as chicken partners, wait until you see them play volleyball. Because they annihilate everyone.

Shiro and Allura feed each other the planet’s Earth equivalent of ice cream.

They hold hands as they walk along the beach, away from the others, around sundown.

Shiro writes their names in the sand in a heart, like a smitten highschooler. Allura adores it, even though she can't read it.

She learns how to write her name in English in the sand and practices it over and over until it's as pretty as Shiro’s.

Klance (slow burn)

Lance is psyched to challenge Keith to surf boarding, because he knows he’ll have an advantage.

Keith is actually pretty damn good at surfing, for his first time.

Lance pretends to be completely unimpressed and says it’s just beginner’s luck.

He's actually immensely proud and amazed.

Eventually he compliments Keith about it:

“Okay, not bad. You're actually kind of a natural.”

“What was that? I couldn't hear you? Was that a compliment?”

“Shut up, mullet.”

They insist on being a team for any of the sports they decide to play.

Hunk

He is the best surfer. Literally the best compared to the others. But he doesn’t show off or anything, because he just wants to relax and have a good time. He doesn’t want to be competitive about it.

Hunk knows how to weave hats and baskets out of palm leaves. Mostly because it helped calm his nerves as a kid.

He also knows how to make lei and uses whatever he can find on the alien planet’s beach to braid them (flowers, vines, shells, etc) and give them to the team.

He used to make lei back at home for his little sister.

You know he likes checking out all of the food shops by the beach and talking with the locals.

They exchange tips and recipes.

They adore him.

He helps fix some locals’ boats. In exchange for him helping, they offer to take everyone out on the water, which calms Shiro’s nerves because Lance talked about pulling inner tubes behind Blue on the water (which is a big no-no).

“Uh, Lance? I don't think Shiro’ll like the idea of you taking a gigantic, sentient war machine lion out on the water to pull a couple inner tubes behind it.”

“Why not??”

Hunk makes some pretty intricate sand castles. Big enough for Pidge to lurk in.

He makes sure to bring plenty of sunscreen, because he's paranoid about everyone getting burned.

Showing Shay the ocean is definitely on his list of things to introduce her to.

Pidge

Initially tries staying as covered as possible.

It immediately becomes impossible once she realizes how damn hot it is on the beach.

She settles for one of those zipup capri wetsuits with the tank top. Or swim trunks with a surf shirt (rash guard?) and a visor.

She tries staying in the shade with Coran, Shiro and Allura, and her tablet, but it's still too damn hot and she's sweaty and dying and there's weird bugs that won't leave her alone.

Sand is also terrible. It's all over her. How did it get everywhere so fast?

Pidge caves and joins the rest of the paladins in the water.

She spends most of her time slung over an inner tube watching the boys goof off.

She also takes an interest studying the marine life along the shore and takes samples to be studied later.

She takes a liking to going underwater with a snorkel and goggles to check out the fish, but she's sure to stay close to the shore, because deep water freaks her out.

Pidge gets Hunk to give her piggyback rides along the shore.

Pidge miraculously doesn't burn to a crisp, thanks to Hunk. She gets a weird little tan stripe along her forehead because of her visor though.

Keith

He's never been to the beach before, so he isn't sure what to expect at first.

The first time he jumps into the water and resurfaces, he looks like a drowned kitten.

He accidentally gets ocean water in his mouth. A lot of it. He is not pleased.

Despite putting on plenty of sunscreen, because of Hunk’s insistence, Keith still gets sunburnt to all hell somehow.

He looks like an actual tomato

Lance teases him so much about it

Shiro scolds him and he has to help put Aloe on Keith every hour or so, because Shiro’s tired of hearing it.

Keith’s the one who insists on starting a game of beach volleyball. There isn't a place set up for volleyball of course, so he pulls together his own volley net and marks out the court in the sand

He and Lance make a good team™ against some of the locals who take them on.

Lance

You know this boy LOVES the beach. It's no Varadero Beach, but it's an ocean and he's going swimming, dammit.

He's the one who insisted they have a beach day.

Lance tans very gracefully and has never burned in his life. He’s sure to use sunscreen anyway, because he’s all about keeping his skin healthy.

He's sure to get a bunch of selfies with the local beach babes.

Permanently has a drink poised in his left hand whenever he's not in the water.

Lance is an incredibly strong swimmer

He knows all forms of swimming and does them gracefully.

Except when he pretends to be a dolphin.

He makes sure to bring music. Loud, loud music that he can dance to.

He starts a dance-off on the beach.

Which of course escalates into a full-on beach party with the locals.

Coran

Coran mostly camps out on the beach with everyone’s belongings (sunscreen, inner tubes, surfboards, umbrella and towels, etc) sipping on some Nunvil and whatever’s native to the island.

He basically acts as a lifeguard when he doesn't fall asleep.

He falls asleep a lot, but usually no one can tell behind his ginormous sunglasses. Unless he's snoring.

He also takes pictures, because he's Space Uncle.

He wears an old-timey white and blue striped one-piece swimsuit. The kind from the 1900s, to match his mustache.

Allura

Probably has a similar vintage 1900s swimsuit like Coran’s (complete with sleeves and a skirt basically)--but after showing Lance, he insisted she needed to go to the Space Mall and get something more modern.

“Allura, you're 10,000 years out of style. We’re fixing that.”

She purchases a wetsuit for practical use, and a bikini with a floppy sunhat.

“My stars, these are much more practical than my old swimming suit. I can actually move around in these.”

Cue Shiro dying at seeing her in a bikini, because wowie zowie.

A lot of locals flirt with her. Like, a lot.

Shiro also flirts with her. A lot. He might also give some of the aliens who're hitting on her disapproving looks. A lot.

Allura has never played volleyball in her life, but she can spike a volleyball so damn well. It's like she was born to do it.

Easily throws Lance and Keith into the water so they can do cool flips.

Shiro

He starts off high strung and stressed when he gets to the beach, but it's easy for him to relax and have some fun once he sees the rest of his team having a great time.

He wears a looooot of sunscreen to protect scarred skin. He probably puts a white strip of zinc oxide across his scar and nose.

The sun may not love Shiro, but Shiro loves the sun.

It makes him so happy, guys. It puts him in such a great mood. He is so happy to be outside.

When he and Allura are on a team during volleyball, he's the one who sets the ball just right for her so she can spike it.

Helps Hunk grill things by the beach. Probably because it's the one form of cooking he's actually really good at.

The paladins insist that's a Dad Trait and 100% makes him a dad.

“But I’m only seven years older than Hunk.”

Lance convinces Shiro to bust out some dance moves.

He’s actually not bad at all. Maybe rusty, but definitely not bad.

He helps Pidge dive for really good seashells.

Shiro and Keith definitely draw out a circle in the sand and spar. Because they’ve gotta be ready to battle in every environment, obviously.

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davidastbury · 5 years

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July 2019

#3 ... Winter Nights ... 1965

The boyfriend wanted to go out for a drink but she didn’t feel up to it. He asked her why she had an aversion to pubs; why she never appeared to be comfortable in them. She replied that she didn’t have an aversion - she just did not feel like going out - as simple as that.

Their conversation became a bit testy. He began to probe her past and she said more about her upbringing than she had ever done before. She mentioned her father’s oppressive, controlling nature; how she had tried to please him, but nothing seemed good enough. Strangely, the boyfriend defended her father; this totally amazed her; knowing that despite there being no chance of mutual liking or respect, there was some sort of masculine bond that over-rode everything she said. She became angry and cranked up the dispute until it became heated. The boyfriend grabbed his coat and stormed out.

Later at the pub, things looked different. He began to think that he shouldn’t have upset her. She was right and he was wrong.

Back at the flat, she regretted what she had called him - she had been unfair - she was wrong and he was right.

Winter Nights 1965

Cheap rented room in Whalley Range. She’d tried to fix up curtains - tried to make it nice. No TV and burglars had stolen her radio. It was a large room; a leftover from a different world; you could see it in the high ceilings, the double dado rails, the missing interior shutters; the grandeur of the chalk coloured fireplace with its florid carved scrolls, now reduced to housing a sad little electric fire.

These were nights of twilight and shadows; when it seemed as cold inside as out. When the yellow streetlights leaked through the draughty windows and the twigs of the giant chestnut tree scraped across the glass.

And they huddled together. They couldn’t have been happier. Nights of cider and cigarettes - of sour metallic kisses - nights when he couldn’t get enough of her - nights when he was insatiable for her quick mind, her breath, her hair, her voice, her face, warmth, smell.

And the world could not offer anything better to him - nothing compared with their nights in that cheap rented room in Whalley Range.

Russell

I will never know how he navigated the perilous seas of adolescence. How he got through the deep waters - the rocks - the currents - the sharks! I will never know what became of him ... but of this I am sure :-

He was, and would always be a friend to every creature; he would never harm or be cruel to anything. He lacked (lamentably, according to at least one teacher) a competitive component in his character - he didn’t mind losing. Although his parents had spent a small fortune on musical instruments and lessons, the piano etc would only be items of fun and amusement. He was splendidly un-neurotic - pleased with his own genial personality and his dark, beetle-browed face. Things might not have been as rosy as I am painting them; there was a stammer and he chewed his finger nails down to the stumps; but that was all - he didn’t appear to be worried about anything and the stammer and twitches were just ... well, what Russell did.

In my little stories I have tried to describe Russell and what it was like being with him. Of course I cannot get near to it. He was extraordinary in his simplicity - he wouldn’t cheat you or try to get the better of you - he would listen to what you told him and wouldn’t repeat it to others - he wasn’t critical about things he couldn’t understand, such as my fondness for his sister; or why the grinning gardener at home was always putting an arm around him.

But the definitive image for me is when the two of us were once crossing a field. The grass was long and the sun burned our necks and legs. And Russell was ahead of me - he turned round, laughing, arms windmilling, falling backwards into a future where I would no longer know him.

Ava and Andre

Andre Previn, as a naive seventeen year old, was playing the piano at a Hollywood party; melodies by Rogers and Hart, Kern, Gershwin.

He spoke of how Ava Gardner came across to him - ‘She sat on the bench next to me. She listened to me play, quite attentively, and then asked an incredible question: “Would you like to take me home later?”

The innocence Previn missed the subtext and declined. Two years later, and more worldly wise, he was at another party playing the piano. Spotting Gardner once more he finished playing, ambled over and asked: “Can I take you home later?”

As he recalled: ‘She gave me a radiant smile of pure sweetness, patted my hand and said - “Go fuck yourself, kid”’.

home in Missoula,

home in Truckee,

home in Opelousas,

ain’t no home for me;

home in ol’ Medora,

home in Wounded Knee,

home in Ogallala,

home will never be.

e loved telling it. He was a natural mimic and relished imitating the policeman’s accent and facial contortions. Lorna would fall about laughing even though she had heard it all many times.

The policeman asked Ian where he had hidden his drugs. Ian replied that he didn’t have any drugs. The policeman said he wasn’t happy. Ian said he was sorry.

‘I’m not happy at all!’ - said the policeman.

Ian looked at him sympathetically.

‘I am not satisfied ... and I am going to have to take down your particulars.’

(Lorna would be snorting with laughter)

Policeman - ‘Name?’

Ian - ‘Ian Smith’.

Policeman - ‘Address?’

Ian - ‘33 Orchard Grove, Heald Green.’

Policeman - ‘Occupation?’

Ian - ‘If you had asked me that question on Friday I would have said “subscriptions manager for American scientific journals. And if you ask me that question next week I would tell you that I have launched my own magazine.’

Policeman - ‘A magazine eh? What sort of magazine?’

(Everyone fell about laughing)

Russell and the Ambiguity ... 1957

We were all squeezed into the back of the car. Russell was sprawled and taking up too much room. Caroline’s friend was proprietorial with Russell - she was quick to push him, give him little slaps, rumple his hair etc.

So Russell was sprawling and the girl had flipped her bare legs across his lap; he looked back at her and giggled as the dog, wriggling with suppressed excitement, licked his face.

Caroline pretended to be bored and reaching back slid the glass panel which isolated the driver. And then she looked at me - and I looked away, and then looked back at her and she was still looking at me - and then I looked away again and didn’t look back because I knew she was still looking at me.

When we arrived we ran on the beach. There wasn’t much wind and our kite wouldn’t stay up. The tide was out leaving the sand ribbed, mile after mile; the sea glittering far away. Russell got sand in one of his eyes and Caroline’s friend offered to get it out with her tongue. He refused her offer and she approached him on all fours like an animal. Russell was lying on a striped beach towel, hands over his eyes. She pounced on him and they were both laughing.

Caroline was trying to pull a soggy ball from the dog’s mouth. He was shaking his head and growling. I was confused about what was happening - I was confused by Russell’s unsuspected maturity - his easy way with the girl - something totally unknown to me.

So I write about the ambiguity I felt that day - the medley of delicious confusion, which even now, all these years later, still evokes an image of innocence melting into the thick broth of adolescent lust.

Russell 1958

I loved visiting Russell’s house with its sloping lawns, Walt Disney turrets and French windows. I loved seeing his glamorous mother drifting through the airy rooms, feigning distraction but actually as sharp as a needle - and his genial, businessman dad - and Caroline, his gorgeous older sister who was the white-hot focus of my burgeoning adolescent ecstasies. And Russell himself, gifted and utterly delighted at being who he was, totally selfish but also capable of astonishing kindness, as are many young boys.

They were the happiest family I have ever known - but there was something else ... there had once been another daughter, a sister of Caroline and Russell’s. I cannot remember how I discover this, and being aware of Russell’s wincing sensitivity I never enquired.

Only later, much later, did I understand that the entire home atmosphere and every aspect of their lives was coloured by the missing child - that her presence filled the whole house.

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mhdiaries · 4 years

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Wave 3 Howleen Wolf Diary

On the 20th of July

Clawd got to go away to football camp, Clawdeen got to go to Gloom Beach with Draculaura and Frankie on the Stein family vacation, and I have to stay at home this summer cause my parents think I’ve got some “growing up to do.” It is so not scare! I’m just as mature as Clawd and Clawdeen. I hardly ever chew anything I’m not supposed to anymore, Clawdeen says I don’t take showers but that’s not true - I just don’t take them as long as she does! I don’t think age has anything to do with being mature either cause I have this friend who is a gargoyle and she’s like way older than me - okay well it’s not like gargoyles count their birthdays the same way as werewolves do but she is totally not mature. I mean she likes a new boy like almost every day and most of them are not even that cute. I would never do that - you know not like a boy if he wasn’t cute cause I would so like a boy who was sweet and nice to me even if he wasn’t totally creepy cute. I can keep secrets too which my other who’s a banshee can’t do. If you tell her something she like screams it out at the top of her lungs. Even Clawdeen totally treats me like I’m still a little cub. Not only did she take all of her most creepy cool clothes with her to Gloom Beach but she also put a lock and chain on her closet. Whatever... I’m going to sleep in her bed and eat all the snacks she left in her mini-fridge. Then I’m going to let every monster know how miserable I am by not talking for the rest of the summer. Yeah, that’ll really show mom and dad how mature I am.

On the 25th of July

Ode to Cushion

Cushion is my hedgehog. She is sharp and poky. Cushion eats worms. My sister thinks eating worms is gross. My sister has to leave the room when I feed Cushion. Would you like another worm? Good Cushion. The End.

On the 30th of July

Some days I wish I had a remote control that let me change the channel on my style - cause right now I feel like I’m totally stuck watching the same lame... lol that rhymed... show over and over. When we were cubs, Clawdeen and I could watch the same episode of a TV show over and over and never get bored. I can still quote entire shows by heart and sometimes just saying a random line like, “Well, it’s certainly uncontaminated by cheese,” can make us laugh til we howl if I say it at the right time. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the remote control. I’d love to change the channel on the show my hair is starring in, because I really hate how it ends. Oh well, hopefully dying it orange to go with my favorite color of blue will make it easier to watch. Now I just have to decide do I turn up the volume to 10 by combining stripes and plaids or maybe I’ll mix a jean vest, knee socks and hiking boots with one of Clawdeen’s haunt couture skirts and make it go to 11.

On the 1st of August

Clawdeen came home today and she actually gave me a hug when she saw me. I guess I kind of missed her a little, or maybe a lot, too. She is my big sis after all, even if she is a pain in the fang sometimes.

On the 18th of August

I was in a boo funk this morning and I must have sighed one to many times cause Mom told me if I was going to mope around the house and get in her way then I either had to grab a broom and help her clean or go mope somewhere else. I think “mope” is a funny word... it sounds like it could be a character in a cub’s book... “There once was a mope who wouldn’t use soap and though its mom begged it always said, “Nope.” So I took my mope and went to the Maul. I didn’t really have enough money to buy anything cool but I went anyway. Going to the Maul always makes Clawdeen happy doesn’t matter if she’s by herself or in a group. It only makes me happy if I’m hanging out there with my friends - who were all doing something else today. I saw Heath Burns and Deuce haunting out butt I only said “Hi”. Deuce is cool but Heath is... Heath. Clawdeen says Heath’s like a stray puppy; “If you feed him anything he’ll follow you home.” So I kept on walking and didn’t stop to talk. I looked through a few shops and was going to head home when I walked by the music store and heard some monster playing a guitar. It sounded pretty clawsome and I just had to go in and check it out. What was even more clawsome was that it was a ghoul who was playing. I was totally staring at her... lame I know, but honest to claw it was like some kind of magic spell... okay it was still lame to stare. Then she turned around and caught me staring. I thought she was going to be mad but instead she waved me over. I found out that her name is Operetta and that she is going to be starting at Monster High in the fall. Her hair is redder than mine and she’s got this creepy cool beauty mark on the left side of her face that goes all the way down her arm. She also has this accent that’s a total howl. I asked if she would teach me how to play but she said “No.” I was disappointed but she explained that she loved playing and singing more than anything and if I took lessons from her she would expect me to love it just as much as she did. She told me that she didn’t think I was at that place yet but she did show me a few cords and I picked up what she taught pretty quick. I did sign up for a week of free lessons at the music store and who knows, maybe it’ll be something that I really love doing and not just because it makes me stand out from the other monsters I know.

On the 21st of August

At soccer practice today a ghoul who played on a werewolf cup team came and played a practice game with us. She was really creepy cool and a scary good player. She was so good that I was only able to steal the ball from her a couple of times during the game. After practice was over our coach asked her to talk to the team and give us some pointers. When she was done talking and the team was leaving, she and the coach called me over. I thought I must have done something wrong but she just wanted to tell me that I had a of talent and could be a really great player if I kept working hard. Then my coach told me that I was already a better soccer player than Clawdeen was at my age. I don’t think my feet touched the ground all the way home. No monster has ever told me that I was better than my sister at anything. Well, technically my parents are always telling me that I’m the best at being who I am and that Clawdeen could never beat me at being me but that’s totally different. Anyway, I was planning on telling the story to the whole family over dinner just so I could see the look on Clawdeen’s face but somehow it didn’t feel right to do that so I kept it to myself. When dinner was over, Clawdeen and me had to clean up and right in the middle of doing dishes she told me that she ran into coach at the Maul. Then she said, “He told me he thinks you could be a better player than me if you keep working hard.” The next thing I thought she was going to say was something like, “Over my cold dead spikes.” Only that’s not what she said at all. Instead she kind of smiled and said, “Well duh, tell me something I didn’t know.” I must have looked like a wolf caught in the moonlight cause then she said, “What?” “It’s not like he said you had a sense of fashion or anything.” Then I squirted her with the sink sprayer, which started a massive water fight. Clawd came in right in the middle to try and “alpha” us into stopping. It worked. We stopped attacking each other and started soaking him. It took us an extra hour to mop up, but it was so much fun, I don’t know what could have happened to make Clawdeen change so much over one summer.

On the 31st of August

I love our family cookouts. It’s one of my favorite things we do in the summer because all of my older brothers and sisters who’ve moved out, and have their own families now, show up with all of my nieces and nephews. There are cubs running everywhere, kisses and hugs, laughing and crying and sometimes you have to yell just to be heard. It’s crazy chaotic and a howling good time! The food is amazing too and there’s lots and lots of it. Draculaura usually comes over too which might seem strange that a vampire would come to a werewolf gathering but she’s such a part of the family that when she doesn’t show up to one of our cookouts everyone is bummed she’s not there. My dad even leaves part of the grill open for her tofu hotdogs, which aren’t bada if you put enough batchup, monstard and onions on them to disguise the taste of the tofu =). We also have a monster softball game in the open field behind our house. This year we played until it was almost dark, and the stars were just coming out; then they started coming down! We all ran to the house and grabbed blankets and sleeping bags and ran back out and just lay there watching them fall. You’re supposed to be able to make wishes on falling stars and they’ll come true, but there were so many falling that I ran out of wishes for real things and started wishing for silly things. I hope wishing that ice scream would appear every time I snap my fingers doesn’t cancel out my wish for perfectly straight hair. Oh well, it’s probably not likely either wish would ever come true but it was fun to hang out on a perfect night and pretend someday they might. Hee hee another rhyme.

#monster high #monster high diary #wave 3 #howleen wolf

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bongaboi · 6 years

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LA Sports Peanut Gallery

The Bruins’ hire of Chip Kelly deserves an eight-clap.For the first time since Pepper Rodgers, I am legitimately excited for UCLA football. And for the first time in many years , I think our crosstown rivals should be legitimately SCared!!

Richard Katz

Los Angeles

Maybe as a USC alumni I’m not as dazzled by the Chip Kelly hiring as the Bruin faithful, but he’s been out of the college wars for nearly six years, his NFL and “rest year” record is 28-36, Oregon was put on probation when he left, and everybody in the world now runs variations of the “blur” offense and hurry-up that he used with the Ducks. He seemed rather disinterested and aloof from his players in Philadelphia and San Francisco, so are the Westwooders overrating him or is my Trojans bias too pronounced? We always said, “UCanLoseAgain.” Fight on!

Richard Cole

Encinitas, Calif.

UCLA can’t have it both ways. Fire a coach on his birthday and sacrifice $12 million when he leads young men and is respectable and actually conforms to the way an academic school should run a program? Spend another $23 million on a replacement with a history of NCAA violations to replace him? And then “defer” action on three students acting as thieves who create an incident in a foreign country who were likely to spend at most a year in the program and have nothing to do with academics the school pretends to espouse?

They could have suspended the kids, hired a new defensive coordinator to go with a good offensive coach (Fisch) and acted like a good academic school should. Need an example of how things should work? University of Wisconsin, which had Elite Eight basketball, top-five football and a fully moral group of students and coaches in a very high academic environment.

Robert Goldstone

Corona del Mar

Sports and political talk seems to make us all dizzy and irrational. Chip Kelly has had his day at Oregon and then flopped in the NFL. So now UCLA, which desperately needed a defense to go with a decent offense, hired, at huge cost, a strictly offensive coach from the past. Dan Guerrero knows nothing about football and this will finally prove it.

Warren Larson

Sunland

It is amazing to read the fawning reaction to Chip Kelly’s hire. Most recently, he went 2-14 in San Francisco, which more closely resembles Oregon than Los Angeles. Dan Guerrero looks to attempt to recover from an otherwise universally fatal 0-3 head football coach pick history by chasing old glory. Good luck, Dan, Chip and UCLA faithful.

Konrad Moore

San Diego

Whoever said that sports figures, jocks and coaches are stupid, obviously weren't referring to Chip Kelly, who convinced UCLA to pay him $23.3 million for a five-year deal, despite the fact, that his record for 2016 was 2-14.. Maybe one should point a finger at an athletic director, who ignored one of UCLA's greatest, and most successful coaches, when he said, "be quick but don't hurry".

Robert C. Thompson

Marina Del Rey

It was good to see UCLA work toward putting the ugly China shoplifting scandal behind them by going out and hiring one of the dirtiest football coaches of the last decade.

Rob Osborne

Manhattan Beach

Bill Plaschke had his giving-of-thanks column, now here's mine. I give thanks that the nattering phony moral arbiter (with a very suspect agenda) of Los Angeles sports does not have a vote within the UCLA athletic department. Hooray to UCLA for ignoring Plaschke and choosing Chip Kelly.

Jon Udell

Santa Monica

Bum Phillips was right when he said “How do you win? By getting average players to play good and good players to play great. That’s how you win.” Chip, you won with kids UCLA overlooked like my son and you kept your promise that he’d leave Oregon knowing how to tackle life. Thank you, good luck and go Bruins!

Gordon Peppars

Cheviot Hills

With the all the recent sponsorship and coaching happenings at UCLA, maybe they should switch their uniform colors from blue to green like Notre Dame.

Daniel VonSpanielle

Malibu

When I told my husband that Jim Mora was fired, he said, " They should have fired Guerrero." When I told my son the same thing, he said, "They should have fired Guerrero."

Irrespective of whether Jim Mora should or should not have been fired, I believe in the adage, "It isn't what happens to you, but how you handle it." If Jim Mora, one of the nicest, most decent human beings on the entire planet, is going to be fired, could someone please have waited until the last game was played, and it wasn't his birthday?

Judith Webb

Sherwood Forest, Calif.

Ram it

I don't hear anyone saying that the youngest head coach in NFL history is "too young" anymore.

Vaughn Hardenberg

Westwood

The cheapest ticket for a Rams game is $100 for a really bad seat. USC tickets are half that price. The Rams will undoubtedly make the playoffs this year. As ownership most likely hadn't factored a home playoff game into their budget, perhaps they can do the working class fans a favor and have some lower-priced tickets that will allow a huge section of the Rams' fan base to actually see their team in person.

Rich Hardt

Long Beach

It's interesting that The Times news space for ex-jock, so-called vice president for business development, and chief critic Eric Dickerson to pontificate on the changing fortunes of the team he once deserted. I'm sure filling empty space with the comments of a crashing, boring whiner like Dickerson will excite Rams fans everywhere. His presence and mouth has made him the Rams version of LaVar Ball. So what happened to Les Snead?

Lawrence M. Kates

Los Angeles

What do Robert Woods, Nelson Algholor, Marqise Lee and JuJu Smith-Schuster all have in common? Can you spell Lane Kiffin?

David Crain

Hacienda Heights

No tanks

During Bill Plaschke’s tenure as a sports columnist for the Los Angeles Times he has performed many roles for the Southern California sports community — court jester to someone with thought-provoking ideas about the state of sports.

His advocacy of the Clippers tanking the remainder of the season is reprehensible. Just because other NBA teams may have taken such actions does not make it right. One can only hope that The Times examines the appropriateness of continuing to give Mr. Plaschke a forum to advocate such nonsense.

Robert Matthews

San Clemente

With his customary hyperbole, Bill Plaschke writes that the Lakers' Lonzo Ball "is learning under the most pressure of any professional rookie in Los Angeles sports history..." Some might nominate another vaunted rookie who performed in a much tighter, seven-game pressure cooker: Cody Bellinger, the Dodgers' top power hitter, striking out 29 times to set a World Series record, with untold millions watching his every swing.

Lonzo's got an 82-game Lakers rebuilding season to find his confidence and outside shot, with zero playoff expectations for at least another year or two. By then, maybe his overreaching father, LaVar, will be all grown up and able to let his more talented son enjoy the glory he will have earned.

J. M. Wilson

West Hollywood

That was a pathetic Lakers loss to the Clippers on Monday night. From Luke Walton's chaotic and random substitution patterns, to guys firing up ridiculous, wild shots down the stretch in the fourth quarter. They can't close out the Clippers with Gallinari, Griffin and Beverley out of the game? All this after four days of rest and a "competitive" practice Saturday. The Lakers are a chaotic team with no flow or plan for closing out games!

David Waldowski

Laguna Woods

The Clipper Curse? How can something be labeled a curse when it is consistent with the way a team has been performing over a number of years? That label doesn't mean that the team's been playing well; it is an excuse for how they're playing. Lousy.

Patrick Kelley

Los Angeles

The comic pages in the paper need a bit of pepping up, and I never cease to get a good laugh when I read about LaVar Ball's inane drivel in the various sections of The Times, so I suggest a new comic strip titled "LaVar's Family Circus." (Apologies to Bil & Jeff Keane).

Dan Bradvica

Whittier

Rim shot

On Nov. 27, Zach Helfand described missed USC shots against Texas A&M as clanging off the rim. In reality, the rims are too tight at Galen to “clang.” He may be confused with Pauley’s loose rims.

David Marshall

Santa Monica

Showing his stripes

I guess with all of the personal issues Tiger Woods has had over the past few years, he is no longer interested in public opinion. That would explain him playing golf with the president. But because he lives in America, he has the right to continue to make bad decisions.

Russell Morgan

Carson

The Los Angeles Times welcomes expressions of all views. Letters should be brief and become the property of The Times. They may be edited and republished in any format. Each must include a valid mailing address and telephone number. Pseudonyms will not be used.

Mail: Sports Viewpoint

Los Angeles Times

202 W. 1st St.

Los Angeles, CA 90012

Fax: (213) 237-4322

Email:

[email protected]

#los angeles times #sports

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quoththesaven · 7 years

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Mall

I met Cady by the fountain in the mall at eleven in the morning, across from the store with kitchen supplies and the jeweler. She arrived seventeen minutes late, and was carrying a shopping bag from the candy shop in her left hand. She wore a pair of overalls and sneakers, and wore a vibrant geometric patterned shirt under the denim. Her hair was crimped and she had a blue eye shadow on that matched the rectangles on her tee. She was always one to keep with the style and never the time.

We decided to look through the shops and eat the fresh licorice she just purchased before grabbing a meal in the food court and going to catch a matinee horror flick. We checked through a store where she bought a pair of bright green high-waisted shorts, and she bought a necklace that was made of recycled bottle caps off a guy with a table outside of a boutique. I never really bought anything when we went shopping together. She never noticed that, either. Not until today, at least.

“Mar, look at yourself,” I have my hair straight today, a light blue headband and a button-up of the same color, and a plaid skirt, and knee high socks, and my old and beat-up Mary Janes. “You look like a… a typical Catholic schoolgirl.”

“I am a typical Catholic schoolgirl,” I add before being interrupted again.

“No, Mar, you’re missing the point. It’s the summer of 1996: you are sixteen years old now, which practically makes you a woman. And you don’t even have class except for on Tuesdays.” I looked at her, as if asking if she had a point. Being my best friend (well at least of all girls), she knew what I meant, and went on her rant. “My point is, today is Wednesday, and you’re still in uniform.” She did have a point about that one, I suppose.

“After the movie, you’re coming back to my house, and I’m going to give you a makeover.” We passed the shop with all of the fancy and expensive clothes, and prom and homecoming dresses. They have a display outside their store—the only store to have a display—and we always stop and have to pick one. She chose a bright orange puffy-shoulder dress with yellow stripes on the skirt, and I chose a long dark blue ball gown with nothing at all sparkly or not fitting.

I didn’t know why she asked for later, until I saw a girl walk up to her and hug her. I forgot about this being a double-date with Chris. I suddenly dreaded the day even more than I did pre-makeover-mention, and regretted looking like I haven’t yet finished adolescence. He found me outside five minutes prior to our entry. He liked Cady, but didn’t care at all for Jennifer. I really didn’t either. She was like that dress Cady chose. There was a reason it was on sale. But it didn’t really matter about that. She isn’t the type to stick to one thing, or, person, for the matter of “Jenny Jenkins, Junior in tdTmJournalism”, or the type to want to go to school events like prom.

The movie was okay, but I really couldn’t pay all that much attention to it, as much as I may have tried. For much of it, Chris tried the same old classic and lame moves like yawning and putting his arm around me to try to get me to stop watching the movie entirely. Sometim nes he really seems like the stereotypical teenage boy trying to get some at every chance he can. But other times he doesn’t seem like that at all. Like when we were leaving the movie and it was raining, he spun around the light post, singing, and it was just so much fun to play in the puddles. He often says a lot of sweet things, too, but my mother raised no ignorant female.

It was a special day at the pediatric ward this afternoon, as Justice and Isaac were going around to all of the kids and their visitors (more than one, today) and inviting them to cafeteria at three thirty to play games and make friends. Justice came up with the idea herself. I think that’s a great way for these poor children to be happy for even a little while. Cady wanted to go today, and when she brought it up to me after we dropped off her date, Chris invited himself along. Michael did say he wanted to meet the ever elusive Christopher Hale. I just don’t know how well this will go down.

We reach the hospital in Mallory’s tiny, grey, and aged car with little time to spare. Michael was happy to see Cady, but soon realized why he normally isn’t when she hugged him extra tight, squeezing his now un-casted yet still healing arm. He was very professional with Chris, as he had to be, for he was the one pushing the wheelchair as I dragged along the things connected to his IV for his pain medication. Not to mention, he’s the understudy who wants to be the lead so bad he’d hit Chris with a car. Not literally, of course. That was probably way too soon.

Nurse June, whom Isaac calls Juniper, says a few words that I don’t pay attention to and brings out with Daisy a pile of boxes of board games like checkers and chess and Battleship and Monopoly. Justice picked out a game I never heard of before. Isaac read from the box that a group of kids staying here played this game every Monday night. There were cards inside, of all kinds, as well as game pieces of different colors, dice, an old game board, and instructions.

PLAYERS: 2-8

HOW TO PLAY: Set up the board and choose a piece for each player. Roll the die to see who goes first. Go around the board in clockwise order. Choose the appropriate card for the space landed on.

For a truth or lie card, write down the honest answer on a piece of paper, and hide it from the others. Have the other player(s) bet on whether the player has told the group the correct or incorrect answer. If the player stumps the group, the player moves ahead as many spaces as there are other players (not including themselves). If they have not, each player moves ahead or behind one space accordingly, depending respectively on whether they guessed it right or wrong.

For a dare card, complete the dare within fifteen minutes, or whenever the dare permits. If the player does complete the dare, they may move ahead one space. If they do not, they move back one space.

For a category card, list the items the card specifies in counter-clockwise order. Whoever messes up in thirty seconds per each turn, they move back one space.

HOW TO WIN: Reach the end and answer trivia questions about the other player(s). Once the player in question to win has answered three correctly, they win the game.

It sounded easy enough; just truths, dares, and lists. I liked making lists when I was little. I still do. It helps me think clearly. We went around, youngest to oldest, just because it was easier that way. Justice went first, and she moved her piece the appropriate four spaces. It was a dare card. “Confront the last person who was angry with you behind your back.” Justice is the kind of little girl that everybody loves. She kept it for the next person who chose a dare.

Isaac got categories and it was presidents; of course, Justice did not know many, so he helped her out as much as he could. Chris lost. I was next. I chose dare. That meant I got her card, and she got mine. “Tell the group what you think a cool job would be but would never be able to/could/would actually do.” She announced that she had a fascination for boats and the water. She loved to swim and go to the beach. She had not been to the beach in years. She said she wanted to be a pirate. I know that the purpose of this question was not to say pirate, but it was cute, so we went on.

The person who was last angry with me was his father, and he knew that. It was silent for a while. Michael attempted to take his turn, but Cady urged me to call them, “right now”. I didn’t do it, and somehow managed to pull an excuse out of thin air. “I cannot perform this dare currently, but...” the game instructs me to read in the event of my failure to do so, “...but that is simply because said person is at work at this time.” Michael then quickly rolled the die to reveal his space to be a truth card.

“What was the name of my first pet?” Michael wrote his answer, and I wrote mine, knowing it so easily. I was the only person to get it, as expected for it being such an out-there question, and it was then Cady’s turn. She had a list, and it was planets. A shorter one, it ended as fast as it began. The cycle continued, in a fairly boring fashion. No big secrets, no big dares. Isaac did have to ask Nurse June on a date, though, which as expected, was hopeless. Lastly, was Chris, for the win against the crippled boy. It was a truth or lie card.

“Who was the last person you thought about?” I guessed his mother, for some unknown reason. Cady and Isaac guessed his dad, and Justice guessed a sister he doesn’t even have. It was all looking to be stumped, allowing Chris to keep his secret, until, the final guess was made accurately. Michael became the winner of the game, and Chris absolutely would not share the truth with anyone. Michael said he would keep his secret.

As we cleaned up the game, Cady and I returned them, and she whispered, “I think I know what he wrote..” I didn’t say anything to respond, but she acted as if I did. “I think it was a girl he might find, hot, or something..” I pretended like I didn’t care, but I was all-ears. “Perhaps, a blonde with short hair, who he’s been eyeing up all afternoon..” Oh. Of course. How could I be so naive? To think an actual college boy--or any boy, for that matter--with a face like his and a personality to match would pay any real attention to me.

Rejoining the group, I grab my jacket, and the Johnson kids went back to Justice’s room before I knew it. Cady offered to take Chris home, hoping to make a move. I let her go. Wheeling Michael back to the room, I look out the window to find Cady driving off. Michael laughed after the door was closed. He told me he wasn't laughing at me, but at Cady. “She wasn’t the name? And he doesn’t--? And now she’s--” he nodded, and laughed much harder, until it hurt. He finally settled down, and told me the truth card’s answer for the victory: none other than the on-stage Juliet.

#tiamus #mine #ya

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mhdiaries · 4 years

Text

Diary of Toralei Stripe

Better have nine lives if I catch you reading my diary.

July. Two. Five.

Ooh they’re telling math jokes now...

Q: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?

A: Pumpkin Pi!

July. Two. Eight.

July. Three. Zero.

August. One. Three.

August. Two. Five.

August. Three. One.

#monster high #monster high diary #toralei stripe #wave 3

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mhdiaries · 4 years

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Diary of Howleen Wolf

No, you can’t read my diary... duh!

On the 20th of July

On the 25th of July

Ode to Cushion

On the 30th of July

On the 1st of August

On the 18th of August

On the 21st of August

On the 31st of August

#monster high #monster high diary #howleen wolf #wave 3 #text post

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