#this is a poster for a fake event i made for a class project

[scruffpuppy]

UGH!FEST, the lineup of a lifetime for anyone who is really into indie pop from the time periods of 2007-2017 specifically

[absolutepokemontrash]

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

[miraculouscontent]

I need more Bustier salt. Please, if you can. It’s dumb I know but I just really need it. She is awful. I hate the fact she says these awful things to bullied kids and gets no repercussions.

Caline Bustier was in a generally good mood that day. Outside of Chloe, her students had been extra quiet and it had been a peaceful time all around. She smiled about it while grading papers, believing that all was well in the world.

Then, the door flew open, slamming into the wall so loudly that Caline nearly jumped out of her seat. At first, she thought it might be an akuma, but there was instead a woman standing in the doorway, the intensity of her magenta hair unable to compete with the fire in her eyes.

Caline cleared her throat, a hand to her chest as she tried to calm herself from the shock. “Um... hello,” she greeted, cautious but trying to be polite. “I’m sorry, have we met? I don’t recognize you. Are you the mother of one of my students?”

The woman’s gaze flashed with brief offense, at which point she stormed over, slamming her identification onto the desk; yet another loud noise that made Caline jump.

“I’m Penny Rolling,” the woman introduced. “I’m Jagged Stone’s agent and I’ve worked with one of your students: Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

“Ah.” Caline’s gaze flicked down to the identification, confirming that the information was accurate, then looked back up. “Yes, that’s my student. Is there a problem?”

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Penny replied curtly. “We asked Marinette to make a poster for us, and rewarded her by taking her to an event. Jagged adores her, so he would talk up her work to anyone within earshot.”

“Alright,” Caline said steadily, confused but her tone urging for the rest of the explanation.

Penny’s shoulders visibly tensed as she recounted the experience. “A rich upstart decided to come up to us and talk trash about Marinette’s work. They mocked her poster and called it a rush job, they said that her album cover was amateur, and they criticized the pair of glasses that she made for Jagged; his favorite.”

Caline shifted in her seat, unsure of what she had to do with all of this.

“Jagged was absolutely furious, but Marinette didn’t say a word to defend her work. She stood there and took it, and even told us not to bother responding to them.” Penny’s gaze sharpened. “And when we asked her, she said that she was being the better person, like her teacher taught her.”

At that, Caline brightened, even sitting up straighter in her seat. “That’s wonderful! I’m glad she’s taking my lessons to heart.”

If looks could kill, Ms. Mendeleiv would be using Caline’s skeleton in her next biology class.

Both hands now down on the desk, Penny fumed. “Marinette - your student - was upset for the rest of the event, faking smiles and acting like it felt good to have her work be trampled on just because she didn’t talk back, like that made her better!“

“It does,” Caline retorted, like Penny wasn’t ready to strangle her. “It’s better not to cause a scene. I’m sure whoever treated her wrong will see her example and learn better.”

“Cause a scene?!” Penny echoed. “How about protecting her self-esteem? We were trying to cheer her up by talking about commissioning her for a new project, and suddenly she was hesitating, like she wasn’t sure she’d be good enough for it.”

Caline fiddled with some of her papers despite maintaining eye contact. “It...it can take time. I want positive treatment for all of my students—”

“Especially the ones who bully others?” Penny accused. “She told us about what you did when she gave you a present.”

Caline blinked, needing a moment to think about what she was referring to. “I was being supportive of both of them.”

“Support—” Penny stopped, placing a hand to her forehead and breathing deeply. When she’d calmed, she addressed Caline again. “You took your—” She hissed, changing her phrasing. “—our client’s work, that she did herself, that she worked hard on for you, and gave someone else credit for it after they vandalized her work.”

“I gave both of them credit,” Caline corrected, as if that made it any better. “Chloe is just looking for attention and support.”

“Chloe Bourgeois?” Penny asked, brow raised and mouth gaped. “You mean the rich girl who is known for being doted on by her father?”

“...Yes,” Caline admitted after a moment. Then, remembering something, added, “You supported her when she was trying to earn votes for class representative.”

“Because that’s what we were paid to do!” Penny said, throwing her hand out for emphasis. “And when she interfered in Jagged’s interview to get attention, Jagged shut her down the moment he realized what she was doing.” She pointed at her accusingly. “You were paid to be a teacher. You were paid to make your students behave. If it takes time, then how much time is it going to take? Because we’ve looked into your records and found out that Marinette has been bullied by that girl for years, and you were her teacher for multiple ones.”

The force of Penny’s voice forced Caline back, and she could only respond, “P...punishing Chloe won’t do anything. She needs someone to nurture her, and tell her that—”

“What?” Penny asked, then leaned forward and asked again, “What?”

Caline opened her mouth, but closed it, quieting as she realized how seriously this was being taken.

When it was clear that she wasn’t going to argue anymore, Penny continued, “We’re very familiar with how you punish students and what students you punish. It took all of my convincing as Jagged’s agent to stop him from charging in here, crocodile and all, to confront you himself, so let me make this very clear.”

Propping a leg up on the desk, she hunched over to get as close to Caline as possible, and Caline herself merely sank in her chair, eyes wide.

“If we hear you treating Marinette like this again, you won’t hear the end of it, and we won’t stop at filing a complaint. With Jagged, money is no object when it comes to the people he cares about, and we’ll use every connection we have to ruin you like you’ve ruined Marinette’s confidence. This isn’t a warning, it is a threat, and you’re lucky we’re not taking further action - yet - to protect our client.”

Then, getting off of the desk, Penny withdrew her identification and dusted herself off, needing a moment to adjust her leather jacket and make herself look presentable again. Turning away and marching towards the door, she grabbed hold of the door handle but stopped short of pulling it towards her.

Taking one, final glance at Caline, she said with a glare, “Have a nice day, Miss Bustier.”

Only when the door had shut behind her did Caline finally let out a breath, and it was a shaky one.

[katherinewilliams221b]

For A Greater Good 16/18

Not my gif. Before It’s Too Late

Summary: Kate Williams, young healer and member of the Order,  joins Durmstrang’s staff at Dumbledore’s request. Her mission? Find a Death Eater and survive long enough to tell the story. Set in 1996.

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc/mc

Masterlist

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

[Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

[Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14]

[Part 15]

--

Warnings: mentions of blood and wounds

Classes were over, grades had been hung in the corridor, and Durmstrang celebrated that another year was over. 

Kate was forcing a comb through her brown waves when she heard laughter and hasty footsteps outside her dorm. Returning her attention to her hair, she pressed more insistently on the knot that was refusing to untangle and contemplated the day ahead of her; the Annual Exposition of Dark Arts had arrived and with it, the crushing fear of not leaving Durmstrang anytime soon.

She had told Dumbledore and Rhode she was no auror; she didn’t have training in catching criminals, if that’s what one of these people were.

“Well, it’s not like someone will raise their hand and say ‘it’s me, Kate, take me to Azkaban.’” She murmured to her reflection in the rusty mirror next to the door.

Why? Why had Dumbledore put her there? What was she supposed to do? Almost six months had passed; she had heard from Dumbledore only once, and Rhode was so busy with the school’s events that had practically forgotten why she was there.

But Kate still remembered. She still remembered what happened to Flavia Hodges.

Having abused her locks enough, she attempted to shape them into curls, twirling some hairs around her finger. When she finished, she traced her dragon necklace before securing it under her robes.

Who would be willing to join a Dark Wizard? And why? For a greater good, as Corentin had said? Or maybe for more personal reasons? No one was exempt from guilt, no one was good or bad; Cassandra Steiner was rude and disagreeable, but she was a mediwizard and cared for others; Flavia Hodges was almost murdered and Kent Jorgensen would have protected the man he thought was guilty, but he wasn’t ill-intended and seemed to be a clever man; Leron Angelov was sick and violent with his son, but he had enough problems to be a criminal; Libor Marek was intolerant and prejudiced, adequate characteristics for a Death Eater, but that didn’t make him one; and the only thing that Kate knew about Mer Yankelevich was that she was a liar.

She let out a heavy sigh and made her way to the desk. After grabbing her cloak from her chair and fastening it around her neck, she grabbed the several items she intended to carry with her at all times: her wand, her diary, the list and the trick wand that the Weasley twins had sent her.

The night before, tidying up her belongings, she had found the box that Fred and George had sent her and thought it could be a good farewell gift to Vivien, in case she wanted to give a lesson to Jon Hopkins.

She felt uncomfortable with everything she was carrying on her. The list and her notebook were inside her improvised pockets, and both wands were safely tucked in each sleeve. Impractical for the occasion, but with everyone distracted with the AEDA, it was very easy for someone to slip out of there unseen, and she had no intention of anyone walking into her room and finding those items. After fastening her ankle boots, she headed outside.

 Rhode had not been exaggerating when she described the AEDA as the biggest event of the year; the corridors were ostentatiously decorated with garlands and lights; countless carriages arrived on the castle grounds one after another and the doors to the dining hall were open all day, held up by pillars from which people could grab pamphlets describing the event’s activities.

Tables had been rearranged to form the various displays, and the students were dressed in their finest robes to honour the occasion.

The hustle and bustle of the day made the place unrecognisable, characterised by its usual gloom and darkness.

She advanced through the hall, pausing from time to time to watch project demonstrations and congratulate those taking part in the competition. Her eyes fell on a familiar face next to her; Leron Angelov sat behind a table where a seventh-grade girl explained her work to three wizards who, judging by their golden robes, were the judges.

“The potion lets you transfigure into whatever animal or object at will, only for a few minutes…” she exposed. Kate approached Angelov and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t do that.” Leron stared at her and stopped scratching his arms.

After wandering around for a while, she finally reached her own table, greeted her students and settled wizards and witches filed in and out of the room, delighting in the students’ magnificent works.

She wished with all her might that she could share their enthusiasm.

She gave several forced smiles, for Rhode’s sake, as the organiser of the event she wanted everything to go smoothly, but deep inside she was overwhelmed by a deep worry that she didn’t know how much longer she could bear.

“It’s really ugly.” She overheard one of her students, Greta, referring to her umbrella flower. Several of her children were standing behind a table, presenting their work to the audience.

A single umbrella flower, magically modified to remain a medium size, floated above the table; its vibrant red colour stood out among the sober tones of the place. The top of the plant, usually hollow to do justice to its name, now was decorated with thirty-seven fangs all around the base, giving it the appearance of a weird-looking lamp.

“You should be proud,” she reminded them, “You’ve managed to do something wonderful.”

“It’s still horrendous.” Jon Hopkins commented, wrinkling his nose.

“We’ve done next to nothing...” lamented Micael. Kate raised her eyebrows.

“What do you mean, you haven’t? We needed every single one of your plants, remember they didn’t all germinate, and only one of them got these results. And these posters explaining the whole process? They are priceless...”

They were still not convinced, so she kept insisting “In a few years, someone will want to do the same as you and they will be grateful to have your work as a reference”.

A man and a woman approached their table and after reading a few paragraphs of their report, left without comment. Everyone visibly deflated.

“By the way, where is Vivien? I have something for her...” asked Kate. Micael shrugged.

She looked around, but it was impossible to find anyone among the crowd. She saw a few familiar faces; like Jorgensen chatting animatedly with some seventh year students or Sheyi Mawut, who was making his way through the wizards towards her. There was no sign of any other teacher.

“Well, well! This is the first time in a long time I’ve seen first-year students exhibiting. What have we got here?” Mawut looked at Kate with a smile and she touched two fingers to Micael’s elbow. The boy looked at her and Kate nodded.

“We have created the first umbrella flower with teeth, Professor! It’s one of a kind because the species itself is unique. It floats like an umbrella flower and has teeth like a fanged geranium...”

Kate watched proudly as Micael’s other classmates came up to support him in his rehearsed explanation, some interrupting the speech out of excitement at being able to contribute something.

“And you did this on your own?” Suddenly the children fell silent and looked at the ground or anywhere but Mawut’s face.

“They’ve done all the hard work,” Kate interjected, “Finding the plant, germinating it, growing the geraniums, crossing the two species...”

“How wonderful... can I read your notes?” Mawut let out a laugh as a mountain of notebooks were at his disposal in a matter of seconds. “Maybe just one will be enough.”

The teacher’s kindness managed to relax Kate just a little.

“I’ve got better at my flying practice, Coach Mawut!” Greta commented, “Do you think I’ll ever be as good as Lena?” Kate raised her head at the familiar name.

“I’m sure you will.”

“Who?” she asked to extend that conversation.

“Lena?” Mawut pointed to some drawings and nodded, smiling, “Lena Yankelevich, she was an impressive seeker. Several top teams like the Vratsa Vultures or Heidelberg Harriers wanted to make contracts with her.”

“What happened?” Mawut closed the notebook and thanked Micael for his explanation. Greta tugged at Kate’s sleeve, causing the fake wand to brush against her skin.

“She died, Professor Williams...” she lamented.

“In the middle of a match… She disappeared into the mountains and never came back. Some Muggle climbers were in the area and saw her, and we found her surrounded by three men who had stolen her broom. But we shouldn’t have gone...” He paused and in a quieter voice added, “The climbers got scared when they saw us. There was a lot of commotion and they pushed Lena... down the cliff. No one knew how Lena had come to that situation.”

A witch casually approached the table and wrote something down on a piece of paper. Everyone around her watched in silence as she looked at the plant and then nodded before turning away.

Mawut went to add something else, but Libor Marek joined them.

“This is an unfair competition.... and what is this? A plant?” He grimaced, and Kate glanced at Mawut before averting her eyes to the rest of the room.

Astrid Rhode had stepped on the pallet where her lectern stood. After rearranging her papers, the witch cleared her throat and drew everyone’s attention to her.

“I can’t begin to express how wonderful it is to have all of you here on this special occasion. To honour this event, let me introduce you to Lazar Berović, a former winner of the AEDA thanks to his system to identify and capture chameleon ghouls.” Kate joined the round of applause with little interest. The man in question took Astrid’s place and started his speech.

Her mind drifted to the single hair that had fallen on her sleeve, and she dully grabbed it between two fingers as slowly as she could, making an effort of not listening the ghoul-hunting narrative they were being ‘gifted’.

She had a document whose content had expanded over the last month, completing a full page and a successfully finished project. There was nothing to keep her at that school any longer. Nothing, except the original reason she was there: to find a supposed Death Eater.

But I want to leave.

Would Dumbledore be angry if she returned early? But how much longer would she have to stay?

I want to go home. I want to go to Charlie.

Then come home.

Charlie’s voice again, echoing in her head as if he were talking to her right next to her. This time she didn’t panic, it was the push she needed to make her decision. Dumbledore would have to settle for the list.

But she would be leaving a bunch of children in the hands of a murderer. No, she’d figure it out when she was safe. If anyone wanted the scroll Kate had in her possession, she’d have to flee before it was too late.

The speech was over, and the room filled with the previous murmur of happiness and excitement.

“Excuse me...” Kate stepped away from the group, leaving Micael in charge of defending the front, and made her way to the door.

She hadn’t realised how much she’d become accustomed to the noise until she’d walked a few corridors away from the dining room. With everyone partying in the middle, Kate and the silence went hand in hand all the way to the library. Or at least, that was where she was headed, had she not come face to face with Corentin.

“Ah, Katherine, I was just on my way to the exhibition...” The librarian’s smile crumbled at the sight of her expression.

“Corentin...” she whispered, “I think... I need to get out of here.” They both looked around, but they were alone.

“And how do you plan to do that? With a carriage? They don’t leave until the 20th.”

“I have to go get my trunk and apparate. I don’t know... I’ll jump to Romania and... then to England.” Corentin shook his head.

“I’d recommend three jumps at least.”

“I don’t know that many places! I don’t know where we are!”

“Keep your voice down.” They dissimulated again as two wizards passed in front of them. They greeted each other cordially, and when they were out of range, Corentin grabbed Kate’s elbow. “Everyone is in the Dining Hall. In fifteen minutes the band Rhode has brought will start playing so everyone will be paying attention. Go to your room and stay there until I let you know.”

“What are you planning?”

“We’ll apparate together. We’ll do Sweden, Germany, France and you go to England alone.”

“Corentin...”

“You go. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.” The librarian didn’t give Kate a chance to question him, and she watched him march in his bat form down the corridor.

She turned and broke into a jog towards the side staircase on the ground floor, a shortcut that would take her to her bedroom. She slowed when she felt a presence around her. She sensed desperation by legilimency, and it wasn’t her own. Anger too, even fear.

She turned a corner, but someone was waiting for her. Strong but elegant hands clamped over her mouth and grabbed her robe, pinning her against a chest.. Her pulse quickened, as did her breathing. She tried to free herself from the arm that held her, but it was too strong.

Slowly, the hand covering her mouth slid to the side and reached her neck. Kate couldn’t breathe. She felt the hand tighten around her neck and Mer Yankelevich’s needle-like nails made contact with her skin.

“Give me your wand.” Kate made a movement too sharp for the teacher’s liking and she gripped her tighter. “Slowly.” She tried to take a deep breath, but she had begun to shake in such a way she couldn’t concentrate on her breathing. “Give me your wand, now.”

With an idea half-formed in her head, she moved her left arm to release the wand. Seeing her, Mer snatched it from her hand and jabbed it into her back. “Let’s go for a walk. Don’t even think about running or screaming” They strolled to the other end of the ground floor. They passed by several wizards and in the eyes of the world everything was normal.

Just as the teacher muttered “Incarcerous” the Weasley twins’ wand trap rose into the air and began to hit Mer in the head. Taking advantage of her absent-mindedness, Kate broke free of her grip and ran off in search of the front door. She pulled her real wand out of her other sleeve, knowing Mer was very close behind her.

Just a little closer.

She ran through the sea of people in front of the door, hoping to get lost in the crowd. She glanced back as she went, but there was no sign of the teacher.

She left the castle with bated breath, and hastily pulled her diary from her pocket, muttered ‘Reducto’ turning it into a tiny, almost unrecognisable object, and continued running towards the bridge.

Maybe she could take refuge in the forest, go to the coordinates Dumbledore had given her, maybe the stranger would find her if it was an emergency. She cursed when she remembered she had burned the map.

She was about to reach the other side of the bridge when something hit her from behind, causing her to fall to the ground.

With a scream she hit the stone, and from the ground she saw Mer Yankelevich striding towards her. She looked around frantically, searching for her wand. She reached out and drew the weapon towards her before pointing it at the teacher.

Yankelevich paused, pointing her wand at Kate, and waited for her to rise from the ground. Both witches stared down at each other in a duelling stance, and the spells soon began to explode. Kate fought back as best she could, trying to remember some of Marek’s tricks, but Mer was the Charms teacher and she knew that at any moment she would tire herself out until she lost.

“You’ve got something that’s mine!” shouted Mer between curses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Kate started to walk backwards, trying to go around Mer and turn her back on the castle, but the teacher was quicker and cornered her against the bridge wall.

“The stone! Where is it?”

“I don’t have any stone!” Kate peeled away from the bridge wall, dodging spells with little grace. One in particular made her ears pop, and she could barely hear Mer accusing her of lying repeatedly.

“How did you get in the room?” shouted Yankelevich, “The column broke!” Kate gasped as a stunning spell hit her leg and she staggered backwards. Focused on not falling to the floor, she didn’t notice the parchment flying out of her robes.

“You broke it?” Kate asked as she tried to catch her breath, “Why?”

“It wasn’t on purpose. That’s the entrance to Grindelwald’s room, and I was trying to open it.” She took a few steps towards Kate, pointing her wand at her. “So tell me; how did you get in?” her accusatory tone made the young witch flinch. Kate bit her tongue, physically, to avoid revealing how wrong she was. In case she didn’t make it out of this situation alive, the teacher must not know her way into the room.

With Charlie in mind, she lowered her wand, hoping to give Yankelevich a sense of security. Band music began to play from inside the castle, conveniently deafening those inside and isolating them from the catastrophe that may or may not be occurring on the bridge.

In only an instant, Kate noticed how the teacher got distracted by the sound of the instruments and took advantage of her glance over her head to begin a duelling offensive. Mer defended herself gracefully, dodging and occasionally returning her opponent’s attacks. Kate’s chances diminished with each spell.

Yankelevich turned her back on the castle, and it was at that moment Kate realised her previous oversight. There, at the feet of the person who might be her executioner, the list of Death Eaters’ names lay within her grasp.

“Mer,” she began cautiously, “all this is for your sister? None of this is worth it.”

“What do you know! Do you have a dead sibling? You have no idea...” It was a stab in the heart without knowing it. The internal debate in Kate’s stomach was making her dizzy, and as she considered whether to tell her story, the teacher crouched at the sight of the document. “We all lose loved ones. Angelov, Jorgensen, Marek, myself.” Mer ignored her.

“So this is how Karkarov intended to communicate with the Ministry...” The parchment flew through the air as Kate’s spell impacted against the teacher’s hand. Both witches began a dance of lights and explosions again, swirling around unknowingly gravitating towards each other.

The castle doors burst open and a third wave of spells shot towards them. Libor Marek was almost galloping in their direction furiously airing his wand.

“Mer!”

Kate let out a choked cry as Yankelevich twisted her arm backwards. She had managed to physically reach her and after pulling at her forearm, one hand with threatening nails anchored her neck against the teacher’s chest; with the other, she pointed her wand at Kate’s temple.

Both witches looked at Marek with completely opposite expressions.

“Mer... Let go of the girl.” He warned, holding up a hand.

“Look, your guardian angel has arrived. Day after day, that man has been preventing you and I from having a friendly chat, always sitting outside your classroom, hovering in the corridors without letting you out of his sight,” she turned to Marek, “tell me Libor, what has this girl done for you?”

“This is not about her. You think I don’t know you were seeing Karkarov on the sly? You think I don’t know that you threatened to turn him in to the Ministry? You think I don’t know that you’re the one who’s been trying to get to that imaginary room?”

“It’s real! She got in with the help of the bat she has as a friend. And now she’s going to tell me how.”

Kate couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You knew?” The accusation was drowned out when the grip around her neck tightened. “She tried to kill Flavia! She practically couldn’t speak!”

“And who do you think stopped her from going to the hospital wing to finish the job, huh?”

“Enough.” Mer finished. She forced Kate to walk to the bridge wall and bent her over the stone. She stared straight into the eyes of the abyss; the fog prevented her from seeing the end, if the cliff had one, and she knew that if she didn’t act soon all that would be left of her would be her memory. “I’m only going to ask you one more time. You found the resurrection stone, where is it?”

“There was no stone!”

She felt the needle stick as if it had happened in slow motion. She brought her hand to her neck as Mer released her and managed to drop to the ground just before the barrage of spells between her and Marek reached her. If she was dizzy before, now she was convinced she was going to throw up.

She slid down the stone to the ground as her vision blurred. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, trying to maintain some control over her body. Spotting her wand near her, she awkwardly crawled towards it, avoiding a violet light that flew treacherously close to her.

She tried to get to her feet, but instantly collapsed again. The nausea was increasing, her vision was blurring more and more, her pulse was throbbing. She pushed her hair out of her face as best she could and rubbed her eyes, but she couldn’t quite focus on the dancing figures circling before her.

Corentin was waiting for her somewhere, probably by the door of her room to take her to a safer place. But she couldn’t reach him, not without the list.

Kate frantically searched for the paper somewhere on the bridge, hoping with all her might that the wind wouldn’t suddenly pick up. Moving her head like that did not help her condition, and the migraines she had been experiencing made their appearance to reinforce her misfortune.

Where were the cavalry? Why was no one from the castle coming to the rescue?

A bitter taste rose in her throat, forcing her to spit out some saliva, which to her horror was whitish. 

No one would come to help her. She would have to save herself.

With what little energy she had left, she stumbled to her feet and took a few steps towards the other side of the bridge. The list was at her fingertips, but the world was spinning and twisting, and now both hands were trembling.

The moment her hand made contact with the paper, a spell exploded against the stone above her head. But she couldn’t back out now. She reached out and caught the parchment between her fingers. She pointed her wand at herself, still shaking, and felt the familiar tug in her stomach that would pull her out. Yankelevich looked with terrified eyes at what was about to happen and pointed her wand at Kate.

The green light of the unforgivable curse never grazed her.

  Kate collapsed to the floor of the grimy Grimmauld Place street with a sob. Corentin had warned her about this; I recommend at least three jumps, the librarian had said.

Lying on the floor with her arms stretched out on her sides, she looked to her right; her eyes were full of tears and her arm full of blood. 

I recommend at least three jumps.

She felt herself choked up again. This time, some foam adorned the corners of her lips, while trying to reach her wand with her left hand.

Three weary taps against the ground caused the building in front of her to awaken, revealing the door of the Black family home. Breathing was getting harder and harder, and with her ears increasingly clogged, Kate tried, to no avail, to stop her splinching from bleeding. Without dittany, it would be impossible.

She raised her wand towards the building with a groan. Unable to utter a word, she concentrated on firing several red lights into the windows. Some bounced off the walls and others off the glass, and she prayed it would be enough, for keeping her arm up was draining her strength.

As the convulsions became more violent, her hand fell to the floor with the rest of her body.

Attempting to keep her eyes open, she made out figures coming out of the house; one was a lanky, black blob she likened to a Dementor by the way his cloak moved; the other was much shorter and rounder with a hint of red hair. The rest of the people who rushed at her were indistinguishable.

Severus Snape forced her eyes open with his fingers, wearing a worried expression. Recognising him, Kate screamed, or at least she thought she did. The only sound that came out of her mouth was a painful sob.

“Darling, darling, look at me, it’s going to be alright,” Molly reassured. Kate wanted to shout that nothing was right, that she was in danger, that the man who was pouring the contents of a potion down her throat was a traitor.

The convulsions hadn’t stopped yet, but the unbearable burning in her arm did. She wanted to watch her wound heal, but Molly clutched her tear-soaked cheek preventing her from seeing the amount of blood that had gushed out from her arm.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.”

She choked on her saliva and Molly tilted her head to help her spit out the remnants of foam. Several conversations sprang up around her; all seemed distant, like an echo in a cavern.

When the shaking stopped, the relief was almost immediate. Snape forced her jaw open, emptying a vial into her mouth again. The commotion didn’t seem to end; several wizards and witches combed the street for any Muggle witnesses, and others were busy inspecting windows and doors.

Intense pain engulfed her head and mind. Attributing it to migraines, Kate missed the long, silver strand that shot from her temple in the direction of an unknown wand. She closed her eyes, and with one last deep breath everything went black.

--

[Part 17]

--

A/N: Oooooooooof I dont know how did you react to this I’m so nervous

Tag List: @eldritchscreech​

@meteora-fc​

@cazreadsstuff 

@the-navistar-carol​

@am-i-space​

[hollandspiderling]

Homecoming Redemption || Part Two - The Asking

Summary: After everything that has happened to Peter, all he wanted was to have some sort of normalcy for his senior year. With the new school year finally underway, so far everything seems to be going to plan. He and his friends are trying to not let the effects of recent events get the best of them and everyone is moving forward. Now with the homecoming dance quickly approaching, what will Peter do once he realizes that he needs to find a date? 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: A rom-com series with a hint of angst. Swearing and underage drinking to come. Everyone is 18yrs old in this and all of the Avengers survived the blip. His identity is still a secret after defeating Mysterio because Peter deserves a break and time to breathe after everything he’s been through LOL

Word Count: ~4.6k

Author’s Note: Welp, I tried to write and schedule parts to be more on top of myself, but that was an epic fail. I wanted to focus on spending time with family and friends more during the holidays and preparations for finals sneaked up on me. The future parts will come when I am able to, but I hope this extra-long update makes up for it! I hope you all enjoy this update lovelies, xoxo Astrid. ❤

Teaser | Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Every morning it was a routine for you and Peter to ride the subway to school together. This has always been the case ever since you transferred, and he became your tour guide for the ins and outs of the city as well as Midtown Tech. You’ve grown so accustomed to his presence every morning as he met you at his stop with two bagels and coffees in hand. The only times that you guys did have separate mornings were when you would meet with your council at the beginning of each week. So, it was an odd thing for you to wake up to a text from Peter saying that he wasn’t able to accompany you that Friday morning to class. You’d be lying to yourself if you weren’t disappointed by not having your daily dose of Peter’s morning rambling. It was always his upbeat personality that usually helps set your mood for the rest of the day. Because of how close your friendship was, he was the only person that managed to see the rare times where you’d let down your walls and become vulnerable with yourself. Whenever you stressed about upcoming projects, he’d always be the one to reassure that you had it in the bag and were worrying over nothing.

You sighed to yourself as you aimless watched the undergrounds of New York whizz past you as the subway train left Peter’s stop. It’s been a busy week for both of you for some reason. You knew Peter’s schedule by part so when he texted you that he was staying late the day before and not being able to come that morning piqued your interest. Peter would tell you everything so the vague answers he was giving you whenever you talked to him was picking at your mind. As much as you wanted to bug him about it, you knew you had to give him the space he needed because you trusted him. Whenever he was ready, he’d come tell you whether it was school or Avengers related, you’d wait until he was ready to talk to you.

Now with the last day of the school week ahead of you, you shook your head to clear your mind for the day. There was a lot to do and you needed to start making the spreadsheet and presentation for the homecoming court. As you stepped out of the subway, your eyes squinted from the bright, warm sunrays that were beaming down on you. Smiling to yourself, you took a moment to bask in the small moment you had with yourself. Nodding to yourself, you made your way towards Midtown and began to mentally go over your checklist.

--

Peter anxiously bit his lip as he paced back and forth in front of his locker. Everything that he planned for was finally happening and he was so nervous. He’s never done anything like this before and the fact that he asking you made it even more nerve-wracking. Some people might find it odd because his alter ego is Spiderman, but because of how much he wanted this to be perfect for you, he didn’t want anything to go wrong that day. It was hard to sleep the night before because of all the scenarios that popped into his head and he groaned, letting his head rest against the cold metal.

“I’ve never seen the school this empty before. Parker, you owe us coffee for having to wake up this early.”

His head snapped up and heard two people chuckle at his wide-eyed expression. Seeing who finally arrived, he smiled in relief.

“Y-Yeah of course. No worries, once all of this is done, I’ll get the coffee you want.” He said as Keila and MJ approached him with the big banner being held in MJ’s arms.

“Chill, Pete. There’s no reason to be worried, you gotta believe in yourself.” Keila smirked at him.

He nodded to their words as he rubbed his palms together and pursed his lips together.

“No yeah, you guys are right. I shouldn’t be worrying about it too much.”

“There you go Parker, that’s the confidence that we need. Also, nice change of vibes dude.” MJ complimented with a nod of acknowledgment.

Peter looked down to see what the boys helped him pick out to wear for the day. Kai had lent him a pair of black joggers and Ned helped him pick out a white shirt with a black graphic on it that wasn’t his typical science pun. Alex finished the outfit off with a denim jacket that he found in Peter’s closet when all of the boys came over after school.

“That’s all thanks to us, ladies.”

He looked behind him to see Alex and Kai coming up to them with beaming smiles. Kai had his hands behind his head as he leisurely walked up next to his twin sister and they high-fived each other. Alex slung his arm over Peter’s shoulders and encouragingly gave it a squeeze.

“Don’t worry Pete, Kai and I got everything covered for ya. We managed to get the boys of the team to distract Brad during lunch period. If that doesn’t work out, then Kai and I will handle everything ourselves, alright? All you need to do is concentrate on getting Stark as your date.” Alex smirked.

“Thanks guys, I know that you didn’t have to do all of this, but I appreciate it that all of you guys did.” Peter smiled.

“Oh, but you can’t forget about the best part.” Ned interjected as he came up to the group with Betty beside him as she held the basket containing all of your favorite snacks and small things that reminded him of you.

Everyone exchanged their hellos and with each other and Betty handed the basket over to Peter. She smiled at him and he gave her one back.

“Don’t worry Peter, we’ll be right behind you to support you. I’ll go hide the poster with the girls in the council room since it’s closest to the cafeteria. Alex and Kai will double check with the basketball team after second period and you’ll be scotch free to do your asking.” She reassured.

“Thanks Betty, it’s been a really nerve-wracking twelve hours.” He laughed.

“You’ll be fine Peter.” Ned confirmed as more students began to fill the empty halls.

“Is there anything else that you need from us, Peter?” Kai asked.

Peter shook his head and smiled at them as his grip on the basket tightened. “No, not necessarily. Having your support with me right now before everything else has been the most reassuring.”

“We’re glad to be of help for the greater cause.” Alex joked as he playfully wriggled his eyebrows.

Everyone rolled his eyes and Keila clapped her hands together. They all looked at her and she pointed at the clock. “As much as I would love to continue our conversation of hyping Peter up, it’s almost time for her to get here so let's all disperse so she doesn’t grow suspicious.”

Peter waved at them as he turned towards his locker and began to enter his combination. He hoped with his entire being that everything goes well that day. Grabbing the empty duffel bag, he had from his gym class, he put the basket in it and hung his backpack onto his locker. A soft smile crept onto his face as his eyes landed on the bouquet, he bought from the flower shop next to Delmar’s. Gently putting it into the duffel bag as well, he took in a deep breath and mentally began to reassure himself that nothing was going to ruin what he was going to do for you.

--

You raised an eyebrow to yourself as you noticed a huge crowd forming around the entrance of Midtown and tilted your head. Nothing was happening for the student body, so with curiosity, you began to head over towards the crowd. Some people in the back noticed that you were there and began to shuffle away. Murmurs of your presence spread through the crowd as excited whispers began to surround you and you had a feeling of what was happening. With a sigh, you began to rub your temples because it was too early to be dealing with this. Cautiously, you ascended up the stairs and your eyes landed on the group of boys holding out a poster.

The expression on your face flattened as you read what it said, and you mentally wanted to kill yourself. Rumors of Brad asking you to Homecoming was floating around for the past week and you decided to filter any idea of that actually happening out of your head. You could agree that he certainly did improve looks-wise after the blip, but that added another level of cockiness towards him which didn’t really appeal to you. The poster was decked out in red and gold letters saying, “I may not be a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, but I could be your date to homecoming?”

Girls in the crowd were gushing at how cute the gesture was as you plastered a fake smile on your face. You met eyes with Brad, and you could just feel the sense of pride and cockiness radiating off of him. If anyone knew you, they should know that anything that is affiliated with your uncle was off-limits and seeing how that was the first miss for him, you weren’t sure what else he had planned for you. You were pretty sure that all his smarts went out the door when he realized how hot he was and only put his energy towards getting girls.

“Brad…what is all this?” you asked as you tentatively eyed him once you stopped in front of him.

Crossing your arms over your shoulder and shifting your weight onto one of your legs, you waited for him to respond. He grinned down at you and one of his teammates passed a bouquet of flowers towards him to pass to you. You raised an eyebrow and looked at the bouquet. You accepted it from him and internally groaned. No one knew this except for Peter, but you were allergic to daisies. There were baby ones accompanying pink lilies within the bouquet.

“Thanks Brad, but I’m allergic to daisies.” You muttered.

He grimaced and said, “I was planning on giving you roses, but the market by my apartment ran out of them when I bought them last night. I can take those back from you if you’d like.”

You shook your head and he nodded in understanding. He readjusted his position and smiled down at you. “Well despite the flower mix up, I do hope that you know what I’m about to ask you.”

Nodding along to his words, you scanned the area to see that the council had joined in the back and confusion spread throughout your being when you noticed their expressions. That was something you had to address later, and you filtered it into the back of your mind. Turning your attention back to Brad, you continued listening to him.

“Y/N, will you be my date to homecoming? You’re the smartest and most gorgeous girl I know, and it would be an honor of mine to take you to this year’s dance.”

With all these people watching, you mentally grimaced as you didn’t want to publicly humiliate him in front of half of the student body. Despite having a huge dislike for all that was happening, you swallowed your pride for the time being and gave him a tight-lipped smile. You gave him a small nod and he beamed widely as everyone began to cheer for you guys. Before he could completely celebrate, you dropped your façade as people slowly dispersed to leave you guys alone. You stuffed the bouquet into your backpack to throw away later and closed your eyes as you felt a headache coming.

“What’s wrong, L/N?” Brad asked.

“Brad, we need to talk.” You sighed.

--

Peter sighed to himself as he heard the first bell ring and half of the class filed into his first period. He lifted his head off of his arms from the power nap he decided to make and cussed to himself when he noticed that Flash was making his way towards him.

“Penis Parker!” Flash obnoxiously greeted as he sat on the empty desk next to him.

“Flash.” Peter greeted.

“What’s got you panties twisted, Parker? Is it because of what happened just now?” He cheekily asked.

Peter gave him a confused look and Flash’s eyes widened. “Wait, you didn’t see what happened at the front of the school?”

Rolling his eyes, Peter shook his head in response and turned his attention towards getting his materials out for class. He heard Flash laugh out loud and settled down into his assigned seat that was in the row in front of him and across to his left. Peter watched as Flash turned around to face him and smirked.

“Brad asked Y/N to the dance and she said yes.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he could feel his heart drop to his stomach. There was no way that happened because his group made sure about it. Taking his phone out while their teacher began to take attendance and Flash flipped him off, Peter hurriedly checked his notifications to see that everyone was trying to get a hold of him. He mentally kicked himself for being stupid enough on leaving his phone on do not disturb out of all times and buried his head into his arms. This was not part of his plan and now he lost his chance. Sighing to himself, the rush of thoughts began to move faster than he could comprehend.

Rather than being happy and nervous, the negative emotions he was feeling was getting the best of him. Thoughts of how you were alone and probably grew somewhat closer to Brad when he was gone began to fill his head. Maybe Brad was the guy that you were referring to yesterday and he was always and will only be your best friend. There was still that weight of leaving you alone without meaning to when Thanos happened and both of you spent the majority of your time in Europe trying to get back into the gist of things. You were so patient with him and helped him figure out his problems during Mysterio but he realized that he wasn’t really been paying attention towards you more than he should have. If he did, then maybe he would have had a better chance with you.

The familiar heavy feeling filled his chest as Peter felt his muscles tensing and the shortness of his breath began to overwhelm him. Shaking his leg, Peter leaned against his seat and tightly gripped his desk as he tried his best to concentrate on what his teacher was teaching them for the day. Instead, most of his hidden insecurities got the best of him and his mind spiraled more into the negativity that was spreading throughout his body. It was slowly becoming too much for him and before, he would have cared about his attendance in class. That went out the window when he chose to become Spiderman and that was the only option Peter saw at that moment that was going to help him calm down.

With an anxiously raised hand, he waited for his teacher to call on him.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?” His English teacher asked.

“Can I go to the infirmary; I don’t feel so well.”

She nodded and let him go once she noticed his pale complexion and Peter hurriedly grabbed his things. As much as he would have loved to look forward to his original plans, right now he needed to ground himself. Peter made his way towards his locker and hurriedly grabbed the things he prepared for you. A sad feeling came over him and he made his way towards the nearest trashcan. Opening the bag and grabbing the bouquet he bought you, Peter thought he was ready to throw it away. But as his hand hovered over the trash bin, he sighed. Putting the bouquet back in its place, he sullenly slung the bag over his shoulders and made his way out of school. He didn’t want to see you and Brad together so Peter decided to go to the one place he knew that would help keep him at a better place.

--

You bit your bottom lip as you eyed your phone as the minutes of the clock ticked down towards the end of your last class of the day. There was something off that day despite having an allergic reaction for most of the time. Peter had been missing all day and it wasn’t sitting right with you since he wasn’t answering his phone either. That was something out of the ordinary and once the bell rang, you were going to get to the bottom of this situation. Once the bell rang, you gathered your things and bit your bottom lip as you hurriedly made your way to your locker. Your friends had told you that they weren’t sure where Peter disappeared off to since they saw him that morning, but you couldn’t pinpoint what could have triggered him to leave.

As you grabbed your stuff that you needed for the weekend, you thought of all the places he could be. You already contacted F.R.I.D.A.Y and was notified that he hadn’t gone to the compound. Aunt May said that he hadn’t stopped by the apartment when you texted her during your lunch break and everyone else wasn’t sure where he could be. Sighing to yourself, you hoped that wherever Peter was, that he was okay.

“You okay?”

You jumped out of your thoughts when you looked behind you to find the girls standing around you. Giving them a small smile, you nodded and closed your locker after throwing the last book you needed into your bag.

“Yeah, I’m just worried about Peter…he hasn’t responded to me all day.”

The girls looked at each other as you looked at your phone once more. You felt yourself frown as you saw that there were no new notifications on your phone and ruffled your hair.

“I think I might know why…” Betty said sheepishly.

You raised an eyebrow at her and noticed that all of the girls had the same look on their face. Betty shifted around and said, “I think it’s because I heard Flash confronted him and said something that set him off.”

Hearing Flash’s name made you roll your eyes and facepalmed yourself. Flash was an idiot and knowing how his dynamic worked with Peter, that guy knew exactly how to push his buttons. What didn’t settle with you, was the fact that Peter actually let his words get the best of him. Usually Flash was just an annoying asshole that everyone would just brush off, despite the rare good interactions he had with anyone.

“Well, looks like I have someone’s ass to beat then.” You huffed as you determinedly cracked your knuckles and began your mission to find him.

“Ah, ah, ah not so fast homegirl. I think finding Peter would be more important than that.” MJ coaxed as you felt her and Keila hold you back from hurting Flash.

The other girls laughed as they saw you pout at MJ’s words. “But it’s Flash!” you whined.

“Even if it’s Flash, you’ve been worried about Peter the entire day so I think you can save kicking his ass another day.” Keila chuckled.

“Ugh, I guess you’re right…I just don’t know where he could be.”

“If Peter was triggered by something, maybe he went home?” Betty suggested.

You shook your head and said, “I’ve already checked the compound and his apartment. He hasn’t been answering any of my texts either.”

“Maybe he needed to be in a happy place. Do you know any places that he’d hide at?” MJ asked.

You racked your brain for any ideas and one place popped up in mind. A groan escaped your lips as you slapped your forehead.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why didn’t I think of that before?” you said to yourself as you hurriedly hugged the girls and ran towards the exit.

“Thanks for helping me guys! I’ll let you know what happens.”

You hoped that Peter was still at the only place the two of you promised to be at if the other one didn’t want to be found by anyone else.

--

The bell of the café rang as you entered the small establishment. Soft jazz music filled the air as you scrunched your nose and scanned the place. ‘Oh thank god…’ You smiled to yourself as you spotted the familiar curls nestled on top of his arms. Shaking your head, you quickly ordered your usual drink at the place and quietly slid into the booth Peter was taking a nap at. You set your chin on top of your palm and your facial expression softened. Without thinking, your hand reached out and began to play with his curls.

You felt him move underneath your touch and he sleepily blinked his eyes open. A chuckle escaped your lips as you waited for him to figure out that you were in front of him. He slowly moved into a sitting position and ran a hand through his hair, looking around the café. It was a habit of his to be slightly sluggish when he just wakes up and you cleared your throat to let him know you were there. His eyes widened and he straightened up in his seat.

“Y/N? W-What are you doing here?” he asked.

You gazed at him as he searched your gaze and replied, “You didn’t answer me all day, I was getting worried.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed his phone out of his backpack and he sheepishly smiled. “Sorry, Y/N I accidentally forgot to take it off do not disturb.”

You laughed and thanked the waiter that brought your coffee. Taking a sip of the warm drink, you gave him a look of concern and he shifted his eyes towards the rest of the café. He played with one of the edges of his notebook that was in between you two and you knew he was hiding something from you.

“Pete…what’s wrong? I need you to talk to me.”

He shook his head and looked down as he held his hands together in front of him. “It’s nothing, really. I just overreacted over something little and it led to getting overwhelmed with everything.”

You sighed as you set your cup down and reached over to grab his hand. He looked up at you in surprise but felt himself relaxing underneath your comforting touch. You silently asked him again with a look and he tapped your hands. Taking that as a sign, you leaned back into your seat to give him his space.

“I’ll tell you when I’m ready, but for now as a distraction, tell me about your day. I heard from Ned that you got asked to homecoming and you said yes.”

You choked on your drink and laughed. Peter looked at you with wide eyes as you paused to look at him once more and laughed. “Oh Pete, I only said yes because I didn’t want to humiliate the poor guy in front of the whole school. The way he asked was horrible.”

He gave you a questioning look and you tucked some of your hair behind your ear. “It was disastrous, Peter. Brad bought me a bouquet with daisies, of all flowers. Are you kidding me? I had to suffer from my allergies for the first half of the day and he had the audacity to quote my uncle as a way to ask me to homecoming. It was atrocious.”

You laughed so hard that you accidentally let out a snort. Peter laughed at the bewildered look in your eyes and he smiled back for the first time since you arrived.

“Wow, I-I didn’t expect that it was going to be that bad.” He replied and smiled to himself.

“It was, I wish you were there to see it, Pete. You would’ve seen through the bullshit façade I was putting in front of him. Ugh Pete, I wish you were there today in general. It would’ve been great to just have you by my side today.” You sighed.

He gave you a smile and laughed to himself. Without you knowing, you were giving him the reassurance that he needed. The tension that held within his body was finally being let go as he listened to your day and admired the expressions you showed while sharing what you’ve gone through. His eyes traveled to the duffel bag that was beside him and he contemplated whether or not he should just do it right then and there.

“Peter, what’s in the bag you have right there?” you asked as you noticed his gaze shift towards it.

He stiffened up and Peter suddenly began to grow nervous. You watched as he fidgeted with his fingers and you reached out to give him a reassuring squeeze. Watching as he took in a deep breath, you waited for him to say what’s been on his mind.

“Wouldyouliketogotohomecomingwithme?” he asked really quickly.

You smiled to yourself as you processed what he had just asked you and Peter kept his eyes shut, afraid of rejection. Without trying to give it away, you bit your lip and tried to be as silent as you could.

“C’mon, Y/N…you can’t leave a guy hanging like this.” Peter said as he peeped through one eye.

A giggle escaped your lips as you shrugged, and Peter sighed. He grabbed the bouquet out of the bag and passed it over to you.

“Hopefully this helps settle your answer.” Peter continued and kept looking at you in anticipation.

You felt your cheeks heat up and emotions take over you because of the certain flowers that he got you. Roses were always your favorite because they were your mother’s favorite and sunflowers were another one you loved because your mom had always called you her sunflower.

“Aw Pete…you didn’t have to…” you murmured as you hugged the bouquet to yourself.

He smiled at your expression and sighed in relief. “This wasn’t how I originally planned it, but I’m glad it all worked out in the end.”

Hearing his words, your head snapped up and you asked, “You were planning on asking me?!”

Peter nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck and grabbed the basket before sliding it towards you.

“I was supposed to do this big asking at lunch period, but Flash told me what happened this morning and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I told you that I was overreacting…”

“Oh Pete, it’s Flash. He can go suck it for all I care, and you know better than that.”

“I know, I know…I just-I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay Pete, but to answer your first question, I would love to go to the dance with you.”

You smiled at him before getting up from your seat and leaned over to kiss his cheek. His eyes widened when he felt your lips on his skin and looked up at you as you leaned back into your set. A wide smile came onto his face as he watched you hugged your basket excitedly.

“So, Peter Benjamin Parker, shall we head back to your apartment and devour all of these snacks together?”

Taglist:  (lmk if you want to be tagged! Tagged those who asked and who I think might enjoy this fic || Crossed out means I wasn’t able to tag you!) @averyfosterthoughts​ @ithinkimightlikehim @ homecomIng @meganlikesfandoms​ @tomfiction4​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @procrastinatingismybiggestflaw​ @mrhollandisart​ @yeahimcrying​ @littlebookbengal​ @caretheunicorn​ @mara-twins​ @jackiehollanderr​ @imsocial-not​ @ibookishqueen​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @3tothe1 @babebenhardy​ @kewl-r​ @llamazarecoolaf​ @mrsfortune1306​ @dangerousluv1​ @distracted-paganism​ @stxfxniexreads​ @mybitchborky​ @autty0314​ @problems-in-paradise​ @megaprincesscakes​ @fangirling12566​ @marvel-ousnesss​ @happywobble​ @zabdisamor​ 

[k-writer1998]

Rebel Hours (4/18)

Kwon Jieun always fit her parents’ image of the “perfect” daughter… at least to their knowledge. Away from prying eyes she was like any other girl living life to the fullest doing what she wants. When a little someone named Bang Chan comes into her life priorities are changed, mistakes are made, and her life finally becomes her own.

Fluff

w.c: 2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      This past month, although busy as ever being a criminal justice major, has been like walking on cloud nine and it’s all thanks to a certain rapper. We’ve met up a few times for little study “dates” either at a coffee shop or wherever Chan decides to drag me to and text daily. By passing my feelings, because god knows what they are right now, I truly enjoy the time spent with Chan. He is the first person outside of my friend circle that has made me feel safe with being myself. I even told him my name… kind of. I got tired of feeling the heat rush to my cheeks every time he called me “princess” in crowded places so I told him to call me “Eun.” I didn’t want any association with my family when it came to him, plus this is supposed to be a casual thing so a little white lie won’t hurt anyone. It is a nickname… just one no one uses on me except him. 

      The only hard part was changing from "Congressman Kwon’s daughter Jieun" and her prep school looking clothes to “Eun’s” cute edgy outfits. I know it would’ve been easier to just live my life looking and acting like a proper lady like my parents wanted but that wasn’t me. Although the quick changes were because of Chan, I liked being able to breathe and be who I wanted to be. I was currently in a stall in one of the campus bathrooms adjusting my tied black crop top I just changed into before topping it off with a red plaid button up. Thank god my mom didn’t find skinny jeans “inappropriate” or this would have been a bit harder but the price you pay for freedom right? I finally took off the wig and tucked it neatly into my bag before leaving the stall. It was exhilarating to go out on campus knowing people wouldn’t recognize me, only a sliver of a chance that I could get caught. I spotted Chan sitting under a tree in the park with a smile. He was sitting on his jacket with his back to the tree, his laptop resting on his lap. I plopped next to him, placing my plaid down so I could sit on it, and took a glance at his screen.

“What are you working on?”

      He gave me a secretive smile as he turned his laptop away from me, slightly closing the screen so I couldn’t see it.

“A new track for 3racha.”

“Do I get a peek?”

“Not for free no. What would you do to get a special preview?”

"Hmmm, depends on the price. How about paying for lunch today?"

"But is lunch really worth a personal first listen to an unreleased song?" He teased.

"I mean food is life and it should, but fine. What will it cost?"

"Well they do say an eye for an eye so how about a secret for a secret?"

"I don't think this is the right context to use that saying but I'll bite," I laughed.

      I thought for a moment at what secret I could possibly tell him as I looked into his eyes. I don’t know if it’s the sincerity in his eyes or the tenderness behind his smiles but I’ve been quite honest with him about myself… give or take a few major details.

“Okay I can’t think of something on the spot like this. What kind of secret do you want to know?”

“Let’s see, what is the baddest thing you’ve done? You seem like someone who bends the rules to get your way.”

“I do make a few loop holes but the baddest thing I’ve done? Probably getting my tattoo behind my parents’ backs. Wait, no! The worst was helping you steal that plushie.”

      I laughed while taking out my notes as he gasped in mock surprise. He threw his hand over his heart and leaned into the tree, earning him a playful glare from me at his theatrics.

“Who knew you were a goody-two-shoes.”

“ I hate to break it to you but you’re the bad apple of us two, I think there will be trouble ahead for me if I keep hanging around bad company,” I teased.

“Or you’re a natural who just hasn’t woken to their true calling and don’t tell me you don’t like my company, no matter how bad I may be.”

      He gave me that playful smirk that I couldn’t help but return as we eyed each other for a moment. I made the first move, placing my back onto the trunk of the tree next to him and nudging him as I eyed the laptop expectantly. A soft chuckle fell from his lips before I felt the soft cushion of headphones on my ears. After a few moments my ears were greeted with a powerful track with a slight rock vibe. My lips naturally curled up in a pleased smile as I listened. Once it ended I gingerly took off the headphones and handed it back to him as my initial thought escaped my mouth.

“Well you went hard didn’t you?”

“I mean I can go hard on other things too if you want to find out,” he raised his eyebrows teasingly.

“CHAN! You’re so annoying, shut up,” I laugh.

“Hey you’re the one that said it.”

“And you know what I meant.”

      I playfully shoved his arm and we both laughed. We talked a bit more about the track before we fell into a comfortable silence working on our respective projects. We continued like this for an hour with the occasional conversation or joking in between before we grabbed a quick lunch and I had to head back to campus for my next class. Chan dropped me off at the front gate with a quick peck on the forehead before he had to leave to make it to his own class on time. On my way to change back I felt my phone ringing in my back pocket. Pulling it out my chipper mood soured because whenever she calls it's never good.

"Hi mom, I have to go to class soon but what's the matter?"

"You need to come home for two weeks. We are in the last stretch of the campaign and we need the whole family together."

"Two weeks? Mom that's too much, I'm already busy with all my assignments can't I just meet you at the events?"

"No! We have to arrive as a family and there will be a lot of events back to back so it's unlikely you'll make it back for class on time most days."

"Okay, I'll go to the main office after class and deal with the paperwork," I sigh.

"Okay?"

"... Yes mom…"

      Once the call ended a sigh escaped my lips as I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was as if God was reminding me of the risks if I continue down this path because no matter how much I tried to ignore my feelings, they were there and very clear. I like Chan. I moved off to the side of the walkway and just stood still with my eye closed. There was something calming about allowing the world to move around you as you stay still… A deep breath then I opened my eyes and was about to continue on my way when something caught my eye. A bright splash of color amongst the monotonous posters on the notice board I happen to be standing in front of. It was a flyer for a dance competition that spanned across quite a few campuses. There was a campus aside from my own that my eyes had recognized and the pit I got from the phone call sank deeper into the depths of my stomach.

      I forced myself away to change back and go to class but my mind wasn’t quite there anymore. It wasn’t until one of my classmates had nudged me that I realized class was over. Immediately I headed to the admission office to file for my two weeks leave. On the way to the office I felt a familiar buzz and pulled out my phone. Chan had just gotten out of class and had sent a cute text checking on me. I would’ve been all smiles and butterflies right now but the whirlwind of my thoughts had overpowered any giddy emotion that tried to surface. I swiped it off my screen and shoved it back into my pocket. Back at the apartment I started to pack and along the way Seungmin drifted in to check in with me. He laid in my bed on his phone while I was moving around my room and he casually talked with me.

“Can you survive staying with your parents?” 

“Not really but I just gotta fake it till I make it.”

“How are you going to explain to lover-boy? Seunghee said you didn’t tell him who you were.”

      For a second I froze in front of my closet, the unread text still floating in the back of my mind. I shook it from my thoughts as I continued to grab things and pile them into my suitcase. I was just glad that it was Seungmin with me right now and not his sister, she would have caught on to my behavior. 

“I’ll just tell him some relative got sick and it’s severe so my whole family is checking on them.”

“Do you plan on ever being honest with him?”

“I don’t know, maybe? I’m not really sure how I feel about him,” I lied.

      I let out an unsure laugh and he narrowed his eyes at me before shaking his head. All the boys probably know how much I like Chan by now but I couldn’t let any of them know of what I plan to do. It’s dumb I know but I feel like I have no other choice. I made a promise within myself that I will not let what happened to Minhyuk happen again and if that means breaking both our hearts then so be it. A broken heart is a small price to pay… right?

      One agonizing week passed and I hated it. In the beginning I had told Chan the lie as planned and he was very understanding but “understanding” can only last so long when I’m so obviously avoiding him. Partly I was trying to put distance between us two but also I couldn’t really answer even if I wanted to when there were various events to attend and lots of people I had to pretend to care about. In moments of weakness, where I was run ragged both physically and mental with the show I had to put on, I did text back but even I could tell he was catching a hint. My thoughts were interrupted by my mom calling me down to greet a guest. When I saw who it was I didn’t know if it was heaven or hell sent when I greeted Seunghee. I’ve been trying to avoid her when I heard she was back, using my parents as an excuse but spending so much time with just my parents was driving me insane. Judging from the glare she was giving me behind my mother’s back, I knew I was in for it. Sadly being best friends for so long she could tell when I’m lying so I could only tell the truth. I mentally prepared myself to be ripped to shreds as we went up to my room. 

“How come your home Seunghee? You didn’t tell me you’d be back. We haven’t caught up in awhile, how are you?���

“You would’ve known if you ever answered my calls or messages. My parents need me to attend that one gala for charity or whatever but that’s not the point. Are you going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“Hard way?” She gave me a pointed glare and I sighed, “you’re gonna be mad...”

“God Jieun, what did you do? It has to do with Chan doesn’t it? I swear you better not have done what I think you did.”

      I can see the exasperation in her eyes as I nervously fiddle with my pillow as I hug it to my chest. From her perch on my desk and how she crossed her arms she already guessed what I did but she still wanted to hear it from my own mouth.

“I mean… not completely?”

“Explain,” she ordered.

[silly-goose21]

Looking Backward, Looking Forward

I just submitted my last final of Sophomore year. Here’s a look back at some random highlights, and all of the exciting stuff I have lined up for this summer and next year. 

Sophomore year has been a wild ride, but I am glad to finally be done--and officially be half way done with Washington College. This year, I took 10 classes, had 4 (paying) jobs (Poetry Screener for Cherry Tree, Photo Editor for The Elm, Admissions Blogger, and Associate Editor for The Washington College Review), successfully ran Writers’ Union, hosting a range of events, and probably more that I’m forgetting. I have done a lot this year. Below is a list of random photos I found in my camera roll that I enjoyed and the stories that go along with them that really encapsulate my Sophomore Year. 

Because I worked on The Elm, I got to come back to campus a week early for Publishing Boot Camp. At Boot Camp, Elm Editors learn InDesign and while I didn’t use it as the Photo Editor, I was still interested in learning how to use it so I attended one of the workshops about it. My friend Justin had just gotten a puppy, Gizmo (see above), and I was very excited to meet him. At the InDesign workshop, I made the above poster-thing during the demo. I have since worked with InDesign more and can create [slightly] better stuff, but this poster makes me laugh a lot. 

Every year, my friends and I do Secret Santa and have a Christmas party. Fun fact: for the last two years, I have gotten Haley as my person to give gifts to. Anyway, at the party, we tried to take a group photo and all of my friends were being really loud and annoying so I fake screamed and whoever was taking the pictures got it. I very quickly became a meme (think KIm K exaggeratedly crying) and I think this picture is hilarious.  

I call the above picture “I don’t speak broke” because I took it at the height of the I Don’t Speak Broke meme. Anyway, one night Justin and I were in Larabee working on art projects and he gave me his watch so I could control the music (a necessary factor of the project I was doing). So I had on two Apple Watches with the same band and it was just very funny to me (it is all the more funnier to know that my watch is dead). 

Over winter break and throughout this summer, a group of friends and I watched Avatar: The Last Airbender because Megan and I had never seen it. We would watch at Mary’s apartment because she had a lot of space and a big TV. We finally finished the entire series on Sunday and it was heartbreaking, but a lot of fun watching the whole series with my friends. Fun fact: Justin is allergic to cats but Mary’s roommate has 2 so it’s really funny to me that Justin is smiling while having the cat on his lap (she is a very cute cat though!). 

Last but certainly not least: Gus. For Admitted Students’ Day, my boyfriend dressed up as Gus (sh, I never told you that) and walked around greeting incoming students and their families. I was at the English table representing the department when Gus came over and started reading a copy of The Collegian, which was absolutely hilarious (see Kellen in the background laughing). 

So that’s it. That’s my sophomore year wrapped up into 5 random moments based on 5 random pictures in my camera roll.

This summer I will be in Chestertown working as the Literary House Summer Intern. I am very excited to be working closely with Lit House Staff doing my various duties (see other posts for more details). I officially will be living in Dorchester, which is the Kappa Sigma House, which will be interesting, but my friend Nicole will also be living there this summer so we will be able to hang out.

Next year I will be very busy. I will be taking 5 classes, will be moving back to campus early for Publications Boot Camp as the Student Life Editor for The Elm, the Prose Editor for The Collegian, and a Poetry Screener for Cherry Tree, and will be President of Writers’ Union and Associate Editor for The Washington College Review again. I am very nervous about my new roles, but also very excited to see what next year brings! Have a great summer and see you all then!

[orbemnews]

The man recreating airplane meals to get through lockdown (CNN) — Some of Nik Sennhauser’s earliest memories are of long-haul flights — and of eating on a plane. “The first time I got on a plane I was about five months old,” he says. “I grew up between Austria and Thailand, so I’d be on a plane every two to three months or so. “It was the one place where, as a kid, I would just eat the whole meal without question. “At home, my mom would have to force me to eat stuff, but on a plane I’d just eat whatever I was given. I remember getting on the plane and looking forward to the food.” With family all over the world — his parents in Thailand, his sisters in the United States and Switzerland, and a brother in Spain — flying has always meant “home” to him. And so a Proustian connection was made. The little boy who was “quite obsessed with plane food” and flying grew up into a fully fledged “avgeek,” or aviation fan. A freelance project manager and social media manager until last year, he used his freedom to travel the world, taking flight after flight, and posting videos of his experience on YouTube. “I used to spend all my free time on Google Flights, punching in dates, destinations and budgets; looking at videos of flight reports on YouTube; making my own videos as well — my whole life revolved around flying,” he says. Until the pandemic hit. Nik Sennhauser (left) has been obsessed with airplanes since childhood — seen here at Phuket airport in 1988. SOPLANE Sennhauser — who lives in Glasgow, Scotland, and used to fly every three weeks or so — hasn’t been on a plane since returning from Japan in February 2020. (Sadly it was a night flight, so his last plane meal was a wrap and some breakfast.) And although he’s stopped all his other former hobbies — he finds it too difficult to think of how things were, and of how they are now — he has found a new one. Every weekend, he scrolls through his photos of past flights, picks a meal he enjoyed onboard, and recreates it from scratch. So far, he’s made everything from tamagoyaki (a Japanese omelet) to Austrian spaetzle and Thai curries, recreating dishes from the likes of Lufthansa, Thai Airways, Austrian and ANA. But this isn’t just a question of finding and following a recipe online. Sennhauser also plates the dishes on genuine airline crockery, and presents it as a proper airplane meal. A new lockdown talent It’s a time-consuming project. Sennhauser has never been into cooking, he says — for starters, he wouldn’t have had time before the pandemic. And at the start of lockdown, when people were posting pictures and videos of themselves enjoying fake plane journeys, despite being a prolific poster of life on board, and selfies taken in plane bathrooms, he didn’t take part. But then, he says, on week three of lockdown, “I was really bored and just did it,” making an airline-style meal, and posting a photo. He quickly found a community of people doing the same thing — blogs asking readers to recreate their plane experience, and people posting photos of themselves eating off plastic trays. “I thought, ‘Oh, lots of people are doing it. It’s not exciting anymore’,” he says. So he stopped it. He spent the rest of Scotland’s back-to-back lockdowns ignoring the aviation world. But one day in January 2021, thanks to a combination of “boredom, being stuck at home, and really missing traveling,” he decided to have another go. He already owned a genuine airline trolley, bought on eBay along with airline crockery and cutlery: melamine plates, champagne flutes, retro economy glasses, and china plates and coffee cups from various business classes. Most of it is bought online — there’s a major market for it in Germany, he says — although he admits that, “In turbulence, the odd spoon here and there has slipped off the tray and fallen into my pocket.” So on this cold lockdown day in January, he opened up his trolley and got his plates out. “And I started plating again, just for fun.” He started with a random airline-style breakfast: sausages with scrambled eggs, spinach, plus a pot of ham, cheese and gherkins. Two months on, Sennhauser has a new hobby. He goes through his videos of past flights to look at what he ate onboard, and recreates entire meals from start to finish. He’ll spend the weekend working on Sunday dinner, as well as throwing a breakfast or brunch into the mix on Saturday or Sunday morning. His meals are recreated from scratch, including appetizers and sides. SOPLANE “The amazing thing about it is that I’ve actually become a better cook, because I had to go and research the recipes,” he says, gleefully. “The meals aren’t just for Instagram to look nice; they have to taste good, as well, because they’re actually our Sunday meals, and I have to feed my husband. So it needs to be edible. “So I actually had to go and consult cookbooks and the internet for all these recipes, and I’ve learned to cook all these different things. And I’ve realized I’m quite good at making desserts. I’ve made a bunch of mousses — chocolate mousse, white chocolate mousse, dark chocolate mousse — and they taste much better than what you can get in the shops. So it’s been a bit of a journey for me.” Cooking the meals, he says, “helps me deal with my wanderlust”, and allows him to relive memories of great trips past. His breakfasts and brunches are his own invention — mainly omelets and sausages, as you’d find on a plane. But the dinners are full meals that he’s been served onboard in the past — not just the main course, but also the appetizers, sides and desserts. The schnitzel that made a friendship Although he’s traveled a lot in business class, thanks to a canny use of airline points, Sennhauser isn’t above recreating meals he’s had in economy. One of his favorite recent meals is a recreation of an Austrian Airlines meal — travelers in economy can preorder a tray made by caterers Do&Co, featuring signature dishes including a wiener schnitzel. “Having grown up in Austria, wiener schnitzel is one of my favorite dishes of all time, so I recreated that, along with a potato salad, cucumber salad and chocolate mousse,” he says. When he makes a meal, he plates it on airline-appropriate crockery and posts pictures of the original, plus his recreation, on Instagram. His fellow avgeeks are enthusiastic. “They always say that mine looks better than the real deal,” he says. “But then, you know, I get to spend a whole day cooking this, plating it in my kitchen, whereas on a plane, in the galley, there’s only so much they can do, especially in economy class.” But in the case of the Austrian Airlines schnitzel, Sennhauser realized that one crucial thing was missing: the signature triangular Austrian Airlines plate. He posted his before and after photos explaining that he didn’t have the right plate — and then something wonderful happened. He received a message from another avgeek — David Pauritsch who runs channel Simply Aviation — offering him four of the Austrian plates as a present. It meant that the next time Sennhauser came to make the meal, he could serve it as the real deal. “It shows how social media works,” says Sennhauser, who says that those triangular plates are now his favorite airline crockery. “It brings people who have the same interests together and allows you to do stuff like this, where somebody in Vienna picks up a couple of plates, puts them in a box, sends them off and they arrive in Glasgow, where somebody else can cook and plate food from that flight, and then take a picture and put it up on social media.” It’s this sense of community that he’s been missing during lockdown — and he says that making the meals “gives me a purpose.” “The food has helped me to think about travel and the good times I’ve had without getting upset — there’s a purpose now to go online, watch my old videos and look at the old pictures. And it gives me joy during this time when I can’t travel. It’s helped me deal with it.” Reliving a honeymoon flight Some of the meals have reminded him of major life events. To celebrate five years since their honeymoon, last month Sennhauser recreated a meal from his honeymoon flight to New York. He and husband Graham had flown on SWISS — “in business class because it was our honeymoon” — and were served spaetzle with beef stroganoff and a side salad, plus chocolate mousse with a raspberry coulis. As he does with all his meals, Sennhauser created it all — right down to the spaetzle — from scratch, taking half a day to make it. “It was a nice way to celebrate our honeymoon anniversary,” he says. The magic of airplane food Of course, few people are as fond of plane food as this — in fact, for most travelers, it’s a running joke. But Sennhauser thinks that’s because most of us aren’t giving it a fair go. “I think people who hate it probably have unrealistic expectations,” he says. “You have to take into account that you’re in a metal tube at 40,000 feet being catapulted through the air, and the flight attendant is heating up a meal in an oven — there’s only so much they can do. Also, I think people don’t like to be given just two options. “People compare it to what they can get in a restaurant, but it’s a completely different species, plane food. There’s only so much you can do, and I think people are unrealistic of the circumstances. “I’m not saying it’s better than what you can get on the ground, at all — but if you take into account the amount of work and effort that goes into, it from the person who designs it to the to the team that tests it, the chefs who cook it, the people who package it, wrap it up, put it in the trolley and onto the plane, the flight attendants who then take it out, put it in the oven and serve it with a smile. “It’s a different beast to what you get in a restaurant, and I take that into account. I mean, most of the time it’s not as good as a restaurant, but you’re in a plane! And that’s what makes it magical.” That said, not all his experiences have been good. He picks out an Aer Lingus flight from Dublin to Chicago in 2012 as a low point — “it was just pasta with beef and tomato sauce that wasn’t very good at all — and all I remember about the rest of the flight is that I was very uncomfortable having eaten that meal” — but adds that “it’s probably not fair on them anymore because the airline was going through a rough time.” And before you think he’s a plane food snob, he also mentions easyJet’s previous catering as one of his favorites. “I really liked a croque monsieur that they had, but then they changed the suppliers, I think. And yeah, it wasn’t good enough. But the original was ridiculous — it was fun to be able to look forward to flying easyJet.” His general plane food tip is to plump for the Asian option, if there is one. “Asian food works really well on a plane because it’s flavorsome by default. One of my favorite meals in economy is Thai Airways, because there’s always a curry. The best meal I had was on Singapore Airlines, and I had Singaporean chicken curry for breakfast. “It came in a giant bowl with rice and sweet bread rolls, and I could not stop eating. I really wished I hadn’t stuffed my face beforehand in the lounge.” And although he says a general rule of thumb is to never pick steak, a signature steak dish on SWISS business class he once had, was “not only one of the best meals I’ve had on a plane, it was probably the best steak I’ve had in my life — tender, juicy and still rare inside, not rubbery and gray as it usually is on a plane.” How to DIY airline meals Sadly, Sennhauser doesn’t see post-pandemic plane food being quite as special. “So much has changed over the past year with food on planes obviously, because of restrictions and precautions. The pre-order meals, which were always great fun to take advantage of, many of them have disappeared because not as many people are traveling and airlines have to cut costs. “Austrian Airlines and Swiss have now cut their economy class meals on shorter flights and often scratch their pre-order meal service. So all the meals that I would always look forward to are actually not available anymore, which is very, very sad, but it’s understandable.” He doesn’t have any flights booked right now, although he’s desperate to visit his parents in Thailand, who he hasn’t seen since 2019. But that trip aside, he says his ideal post-pandemic plane food trip would be to Tokyo on ANA in business class. “I’ve seen pictures of their food in business and first class, and it’s just out of this world — we’ve flown twice with them in economy and the food was amazing.” For now, there’s a whole community online, sharing his love of plane food — he tips Nik Loukas, who’s turned his love of plane food into a business, Inflight Feed, as one to follow. Feeling inspired? Sennhauser suggests starting with economy class meals, and trying a Thai curry. “All you have to do is cook some rice and make a curry with curry paste, coconut milk and some meat. And you need a nice little dish to put it in, and there you go. The only issue is plating — I use a small spoon and do it very carefully, bit by bit. Don’t rush it — think it out beforehand, maybe even draw a little picture of how you want it to look. “It takes me three to four hours making these meals, but with the restrictions there’s nowhere else to go so I might as well spend four hours in the kitchen and put out a banging meal.” Source link Orbem News #Airplane #lockdown #Man #meals #recreating

[nimuulap]

[ 5 things I enjoy about myself ]

tagged by the lovely @yuuris-piano ! <3

My stubbornness; honestly man, without if I wasn’t as stubborn as I am right now, I wouldn’t be an artist and I wouldn’t have accomplished so much. I’m grateful that I have the ability to hang on even when I really want to give up or when it feels like I’m up against the world. I see a lot of amazing people let go of projects or just don’t continue something because they’ve given up and don’t feel like they can do it;;; and when I was younger, I didn’t understand why because not giving up just seemed like a simple concept for me back then. Now that I’m older, I understand what those people went through and how it must have hurt, but at the same time, I want to learn from those experiences and keep fighting in order to accomplish what I want to accomplish! <3

My friends and family; asdfjk; i love them TTOTT I can’t begin to describe how grateful I am to have ended up in such an environment with so many supportive and wonderful people ;v;;; Even if I sometimes hate what my parents do or if we end up fighting, in the end, it gets resolved. On top of that, it’s because of our flaws that I’m able to become stronger. You don’t want to live in an environment that’s toooo strict, but it can’t be tooo laid-back. My family fits in the middle :’D My friends are honestly such blessings;;; both online and in real life;;; There’s been so many times I’ve felt down, but they were there to bring me back up. In recent years, I’ve started to doubt myself more, but they’re the ones who reassure me constantly without knowing that they’re doing it :’> sometimes even just talking to them about my thoughts just makes my life so much better. And they write the sweetest birthday cards?? Like some of them are writing novels in tiny little cards asdfjk; and I’m just so touched whenever they tell me how much I’ve done for them (so I write essays as well in birthday cards because they need to know how much they mean to me adsjfk). I would be still in doubt about going into animation if it weren’t for my friends and family. I’d still be in doubt or maybe stuck with my current doujin if it weren’t for the friends that kept telling me that I can do it :’>

Character development?? I just feel like everything happened for a reason. I entered high school all optimistic and enthusiastic, then I fell apart after a year, but then I was “reborn” after watching yuri on ice and just interacting with a fandom again :’> I just feel like I’ve become stronger as a person in these past few years. It wasn’t an easy journey, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I learned how to be more confident, more grateful and happier.

Experience; adsfjk; this sounds so weird but whenever I’m put in a certain art environment, whether it’s at school in art class, or at a local drawing thing, I feel confident just because of my experiences. My free time is only made up of drawing, and just having the experience with commissions, different drawing tasks, conventions, zines and other art-related events or projects... I just makes you feel a bit special on the inside because not everyone gets to experience all of those :’> And it’s not only drawing; it’s coding, layout, posters, graphic design, music videos and just a lot of different projects. One that I’ll never forget was when I had to create an illustrated music video for improvised piano and god that was difficult. It took me such a long time to think of a story, and I just can’t work with piano jazz sometimes adsfjkl;;;; but in the end, the person who hired me was happy with the outcome, and I even got interviewed a few months later ;v;;; So wherever I am, I feel confident about my skills (most of the time??) because of that foundation. Usually, that confidence has an effect on my drawings as well (more confident lines, i’m calm when drawing, etc.)

My social skills; I used to be that really annoying kid in elementary school who also complained about having no friends... So I’m surprised to be where I am now. In most environments, I know how to act in order to get on people’s good sides... But I don’t do it all the time because there’s some people that I’d prefer not be on their good sides ahaha :> Nonetheless, I’m still kind of awkward around some people that I don’t talk to often. But in general, I’m nowhere near concerned about having no friends. I also don’t encounter friendship problems now anymore, and I no longer have any “fake friends”, so I’m pretty happy with where I ended up in my social life! So happy I don’t even notice or remember the mean people ahaha

[oliverphisher]

June Loves

June Loves is a well-respected author who has written over 100 books, including non-fiction and fiction for children, reference books and academic publications, over the past 20 years. June’s combined career as a newspaper journalist, freelance writer, teacher-librarian and bookseller enable her to empathise, comfort and keep young and old writers on track.

She is a mother of four and grandmother of 11 grandchildren and two great grandchildren, all of whom delight in spending time with her. She lives in coastal Victoria with her husband.

Modern Grandparenting: Games and Activities to Enjoy with Your Grandchildren By June Loves

She lives near the beach in Victoria, Australia with her husband. Her latest books are The Shelly Beach Writers' Group and Modern Grandparenting.

Where have I been & what have I been writing lately?

Nearly three years ago I fell down Alice’s rabbit holeand started following signs – Tell Your Story. This Way!I’ve taken lots of detours. Thankfully I can see a light at the end of the tunnel!

Detours

I detoured to assist writers to tell their story via email Q&A’s, I’vepresentednumerous workshops and talks at the U3A, community centres and libraries – even on a cruise ship (which stopped me jumping overboard!)And I’ve completed my book

How to Tell Your Story A-Z. I’ve also been filing through memories to write my complicated memoir.(‘Unfinished!’)

Remembering 1950’s Rural school teaching I’ve been writing a fake tell-all memoir –Miss Abigail Peabody.

(A Mostly True Memoir) (Unfinished!)

Now I can assure fellow writers the process of writing a memoir or an autobiography(your life from cradle to grave) is hard work and it will become your passion.

Many prime ministers and famous celebs dash off auto bio 700-page tomes. Lesser mortals will feel good (or bad) writing their memoirs. A memoir being parts or events of a lifeis doable!

Where to start?

It’s easy to start. Well relatively easy. You have the plot, characters and setting. You can begin at any place but be prepared. It takes a mammoth effort to work through the difficult, seemingly boring bits to the last page.Then you need to take a deep breath. Get ready to revise, rewrite and edit.It will be worth it!

I believe I’ve nailed the essentials you need to ‘Tell Your Story’ in my (Five Steps? or Ten Top Tips?)

 PS: If you’re cashed up you can employ a Publishing Consultant, Ghostwriter, editor/s, or a biographer to assist you in writing your story. (Caution: This couldbe easier or more difficult than writing your story!)

PPS: Leave out writing that could be construed as libel – writing that could be injurious to others. It’s not so much a case of black or white but of the greys between.However it’s your story. If you decide to leavedodgy content in – your story could become a brilliant best-seller novel!Woo Hoo!

Three books: bios or memoirs that have influenced me.

1. Storyteller. The Life of Roald Dahl by Donald Sturrock.

Roald Dahl is my favourite children’s author.Reading his stories kept children sitting on the mat during storytime in my library. Storytelleris a masterly biography and an example of how to include private papers, references and other end-page info in a book.

Storyteller: The Authorized Biography of Roald Dahl By Donald Sturrock

2. I Remember Nothing And Other Reflections by Nora Ephron.  

This book is hilarious musings on ageing by the writer of the New York Times bestseller Heartburn,and writer and director of the brilliantscreenplays When Harry Met Sally, Silkwood and Sleepless in Seattle.

(I poached Nora Ephron’s structure of including recipes from her title Heartburnand used in my children’s novel One Wild Week With My Grandmother.)

I Remember Nothing: And Other Reflections By Nora Ephron

3. Thinking About Memoir by Abigail Thomas.

This book is a perfectly designed, usefulhandbook. I purchased it 15 years ago according to the bookshop tag and it’sbeen hidden in my bookshelf before I thought of writing my memoir. I love Abigail Thomas’s quote, ‘Memoir is the story of how we got here from there.’

Thinking About Memoir (AARP) By Abigail Thomas

What purchase of $100 has impacted on your life in the last six months?

Last week I purchased a pack of Artline 220 Super Fine 0.2mm Fine Line Black pens and I ordered 10 Chunky notebooks online. Both purchases added up to about $100. My comforting purchases are stacked in a cupboard. Now I have a supply of pens and notebooks to record ideas, characters, plots & dialogue – and I’ll be able to capture that best-selling 3am idea!

How has failure set you up for later success?

I believe if you enjoy writing the only way a writer can fail is to give up. And it helps to have a skin like a salt-water crocodile to cope with rejections. Writers have to accept that rejection will be part and parcel of the professional writing process if you want to publish your writing.

Don’t bin or delete a rejection straight away. Sometimes an agent or editor will write encouraging and helpful comments. They may even say they’re interested in reading your work again – if you do a ‘rewrite’.

It’s up to you.

I’ve known editors, agents or publishers to change their mind. They ask to see your work again and they accept your submission after they’ve rejected it!

Rejection can have positive as well as negative outcomes. On the positive side, rejection can inspire you to improve your writing skills.

You can re-evaluate your writing after a rejection – rewrite or stand by what you’ve written.

If you self-publish you don’t have to worry about rejections. Then again online reviews can be dodgy and hurtful. And you’ll probably feel rejected if sales numbers are low.

Do a little war dance and start writing again!

Are there any quotes you live your life by?

When I was a 15-year old and found myself a job as a Lois Lane reporter in a newspaper my grandmother’s advise was to ‘Work Hard! Work as hard as you can!

Be polite and smile!’ This has proved excellent advise in my 25-year career as a teacher librarian, and 24 years as a working writer.

What is the best writing resource investment you’ve made?

My second-hand clunky Remington Rand typewriter I purchased when I was 15. I paid it off in instalments. Then came the Apple computers I purchased (and have loved) beginning in the 80s.

What’s an unusual habit you have?

In winter when I spend long hours at the computer I wear a woolly, faded blue dressing gown over my clothes. I enjoy the startled looks of visitors when they think they’ve disturbed a sick old lady – not knowing this old writer has been living the most exciting life typing chapter after chapter of her scandalous novel.

What advice would you give to a smart, driven, aspiring author?

Make sure you use a correct chair, and your writing space is arranged ergonomically.

Keep a glass of water on your desk. Be organised. Plan daily blocks of time within your week or a set amount of time over a week. Develop a routine.

Don’t wait for the ‘muse’ or for inspiration. Just write! Set yourself writing goals for each writing session. Aim for a word count goal of 500 to 1,000, a set number of hours, or a specific number of scenes. Work to deadlines. File or basket your work so you can locate it at a minute’s notice. (Good practice in working with editors!)

Keep learning your writer’s craft across new media. Appreciate your imagination. It’s a writer’s gift.

In the last five years how have you become better at saying ‘No’?

I’ve finally learnt ‘The Gracious No’ Reply. This is an excellent excuse for writers who are desperate to find time to write. ‘The Gracious No’ conversation can go like this. ‘Are you free to meet tomorrow?’ A writer’s reply, ‘Just let me check my diary.’

Then after the writer checks they’re diary. ‘Sorry I’d love to meet with you but I have to take the goldfish to the vet.’ Fortunately the goldfish recovers! And the writer has time to write.

What marketing tactics should authors avoid?

I haven’t a clue. Obviously dodgy social media but I’m rubbish at marketing. However I’ve made a list of DIY Marketing Tips I intend to follow to market my two novels – The Governess, and The Secret Memoir of Abigail Peabody, and my latest non-fiction How-2 Write Your Life Story A-Z: Everything U Need 2 Know

• Don’t underestimate the value of word-of-mouth advertising. Think locally… contact newspapers, radio & TV stations, bookshops, libraries, and local markets to promote your book.

• Select the pricing of your book with care. You need to check similar books and decide whether to match, undercut, ignore their pricing and/or offer free copies for a certain time.

• Make yourself available for photo shoots, interviews and to write promotional pieces about your book.

• Use marketing tools such as: posters, reviews, interviews, media appearances, podcasts and social media.

• Write short form copy e.g. sound bites, tweets, taglines and headlines to market your life story. Be prepared to describe your memoir in 140 characters or less. Have a list of snappy phrases and sound bites ready-to-go.

• Submit your life story for competitions and to be reviewed.

What new realisation helped you achieve your goals?

Just recently three of my writerly friends have passed away leaving unfinished novels on their desks. I decided I wasn’t going to die with two unfinished novels and a How-2 trapped inside me so I completed my projects. They’re in typescript stacks on my desk and in folders on my computer.

Now I can start writing short story! A definitely shorter project! Or Essays!

What do you do when you feel overwhelmed and lose focus?

I divide a writing project into doable steps – words, pages, chapters? Even volumes!

(I’ve spent two years of my life writing the multi-volume The Macmillan Illustrated Encyclopedia, (First and Second Editions). I enjoyed working through volume after volume. When each volume was completed I took it to the publisher.

I give myself a ‘cushion deadline’ – an easy, or an earlier deadline if I have a professional deadline to meet. (You never know when you have to take the cat to the vet!)

I don’t beat myself up if I have a Bad-writing day, week or months. I accept King-hits from life events. You have to start again. Set yourself a new goal, and a new cushion deadline.

________

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source https://www.thecommunitywriter.com/blog/june-loves-1

[thescriptorium]

[in human skin]

♡ for laila-heartfilia ♡

Mira&Laxus

“We go to the same college but we don't talk to each other but I just saw you sucking someone's blood and you would have at LEAST thought you'd have the common sense to do this somewhere more private" 

Part 1 of 2

Laxus Dreyer was never one for gossip. It seemed a waste of time to him, talking about people he didn't know and relationships he wasn't involved in. If they had nothing to do with him, he found he didn't care. Why would he? It had nothing to do with him.

It was boring. He thought it always would be; until one very particular day where it wasn't.

Whether noticed or not, words implant themselves in your brain. It pops up time and time again, sneaking into the subconscious and laying dormant until one day it just clicks into place. It's a process, it's time consuming.

It comes from the girls chatting on the bench, the whispers that drifted through the library, even the second-long glance of the word on a scrappy poster somewhere.

One too many times, and it had the soft yet startling click in Laxus’ brain.

Not a word, but a name.

Mirajane.

Everywhere, he realized, he's heard it. Just so soft spoken that it became hard to remember exactly when or where. He didn't know her---just the bits and pieces that he could form into some mutated version of his image.

For such a popular topic, Mirajane seemed so intangible. Her presence so far away, as if she were everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

The angel Mirajane. A student with a heart as big as the school itself. She was the foundation, the skeleton on which everything relied on. The invisible crutch the student body needed but didn't deserve.

Counselor, advisor, guide, mentor. Any possible trouble, any unexpected or foreseen problem, Mirajane could fix it. She knew every in and out, every loophole, every neat trick in the book.

Her best friends were professors and administrators, tucked and snug in her pocket. Her devotees eagerly awaited a place right beside them. If she allowed it, it would be her bronzed statue sitting in the quad instead of a man of no name.

Devastatingly clever, and her beauty twice as terrifying. How many times Laxus heard what those horny freshman boys would do to her, how many times she had a girl spewing to her friend in such envy and lust.

Mirajane did not have boyfriends, and she did not have girlfriends. Rumors claiming otherwise were just that, rumors. Not to imply she had short rendezvous’ either---Mirajane Strauss was known for being completely off limits. You could flirt and tease and beg and the phrase she replied was infamous.

You're not my type.

Considering the range of her fans extended from all social and wealth classes---her type could only be constituted as otherworldly. Or, in Laxus’ eyes, no one.

Perhaps she thought no one was good enough her. Fair enough, he thought. He couldn't resort her to that point. Laxus had a type too---not because he thought he was too good for the other girls, but this type always seemed to catch his eye. Too easily, at many times.

Mirajane did not seem his type. She was nice and friendly, selfless and big-hearted. She was a mom. She helped and cleaned and cared for her students. She looked out for them, and Laxus did not need someone looking out for him.

Having his overbearing grandfather watching his every breath was enough for him. Being son of the dean was difficult, but Laxus had proven himself again and again he had what it took to consider that title. And again and again he would have to keep doing it.

The days seemed to drag into another, crawling with gnarled fingers and scuffing feet. The sun bore down on him like it wanted to sink him into the pavement, a soft throb in his head. People distanced themselves plenty at the look waging war behind his eyes. Good. He didn’t want or need to concern himself with those people.

By the time Laxus blinked, it was the next day---awoken with a start. His alarm buzzed 7am. Already a flurry of thoughts came, the list of chores he had to do, the projects he had to finish, the people he had to see. It tumbled through his mind as he got up, got dressed. Sunlight wafted through the window, birds chirping. It took Laxus a moment to steady himself as he gaze drew from the glass, down to the small bottle bleeding orange light onto his nightstand.

From consideration, to debating, to bargaining. He picked up the bottle tentatively, pills rattling around inside, slipping and sliding past the label that printed his name. He could almost feel the strain in his forehead, the cringing headache that twisted a knife into his skull. How dreadfully vapid his consciousness became, a colorful blur of daily events.

His grandfather would want him to take them. His daily dose.

Perhaps that was why he left them on his nightstand, and grabbed his phone instead.

Laxus knew it was childish to refuse doing menial things out of spite for his grandfather. He found he couldn’t help it though. When feeling too helpless, too powerless, it was all that was left to do. Already the day seemed to refresh itself. The sun didn’t feel too hot, the birds weren’t too loud.

It appeared, finally, that Laxus’ mind was clearing up.

Key word: appeared.

While he’d most silently been enjoying the early sights of day, the sun, the coffeeshops, people chatting down every sidewalk, what he did not enjoy was finding a pair viciously making out in the middle of the quad.

It was ravenous, the two. Bodies pressed, her hips straddled---molded with his, skin peeking from the metal bars of the bench facing the fountain. Hair spilled from side to side, over shoulders and grasped in fists.

Maybe because time slowed for Laxus, that they did as well.

He could see the lips that dragged over the boy's skin, perfect and coordinated. She was surreal, her movements, her sway. Like each one was a sharp breath of the sea. With a tilt those lips dragged down his jaw, teeth showing---gleaming---as she neared further and further down. It was her tongue that met the column of his neck first, pink and eager; then the canines.

Laxus could’ve sworn she looked right at him as her teeth sunk into the boy. The vein bulging and impatient beneath her mouth. It wasn’t real, he told himself. How anyone could have such a predatory, animalistic look in their eye. How terrifying one could be.

Not just anyone though.

Mirajane.

It was the hair that gave it away. Snowy white, pale as death. Draped across her shoulders and down her back like a beautifully woven tapestry. Each strand expertly executed to give her such a terrifying sense of beauty.

Laxus had never seen Mirajane before, and he was not sure he was even seeing her now. In such a state. Lips, teeth, mouth---all covered in blood. Her hands stained of it as she kept her prey still, a fox in a deathgrip, snuffed by a wolf’s teeth. The boy offered no resistance; his limbs boneless to the woman above him.

It was a second later Laxus forced himself away from Mira’s eyes, the pits burning him hotter and hotter until his brain felt aflame. He turned---whirled---eyes skipping and jumping to the students surrounding. Someone else must be seeing this.

But no. People walked, laughed. Even the ones passing right by that dreadful bench. How could no one else see this, how could no one care? It was the middle of the day---middle of the quad and yet no one was reacting but him?

Laxus’ feet stumbled with turning back to the bench. Still she sat, drinking and sucking, her eyes lidded in existential pleasure. They seemed to gleam as she felt his eyes on her again, a dangerous playful little light. She was in no rush to move.

Opening again was her mouth, lips a scarlet red as her canines pulled from the flesh. Her tongue followed the path, swirling over the holes now left barren in the boy’s throat, and up the column of his neck.

She wiped her bloodied lips with the back of her hand, eyes fierce as they stabbed into his, still lidded partway. And it was that he last saw before a white light shattered his vision.

Laxus awoke to his shrieking alarm. His heart in his throat, he coughed and coughed, pulling himself from his bed. It took the wind from his window and pure silence to keep himself sane, for him to figure out where he was. When he was. He glanced to his phone, dazzled with missed messages and phone calls from his grandfather.

An entire day---gone. Vanished into thin air. The sun was rising again, birds chirping. What happened to the day?

It was when Laxus tried remembering what he did yesterday that it all came crashing back. Mirajane. The boy. Had that been some lucid dream? A nightmare?

No, it couldn’t of been. It was too fresh, too real. He never remembered dreams as well as he remembered that. But, it didn’t make sense.

Mirajane? The beloved Mirajane? Drinking a man’s blood in the middle of the day, in the most populous place of Fiore University?

It couldn’t be real. But it was. He had no doubt about it.

Laxus sat in his room for a while, trying to catch his breath. His bed creaked and groaned under his weight. After a few short minutes, the silence calmed him. Nothing seemed real anymore. Not even his reality. The days felt fake, made up.

The last thing he wanted to do was think of Mirajane. He had too much shit to do anyways, he had no time to be pondering over whatever the hell that was. Forcing himself to his feet, Laxus continued a normal day. He got dressed, got some coffee. He went to his classes and worked on his projects, thankful to be doing so. With electrical engineering, it was easy to get lost in the work. Hours would pass before he would notice.

In the short times between those moments, walking to class, waiting in line, it bothered him. Mirajane. It was a nudge in his side, a flick of his ear. Mirajane, his thoughts mocked. Teeth clenched, he bit back a sigh. Anything to do with that name frustrated him. People still had the audacity to walk by and act careless to the performance the angel of Fiore put on. What a saint she was.

Mirajane Strauss was something, but she was no angel.

This was the mindset that had Laxus stopped in his tracks. Then charging.

There she was, right across the lawn. Books in her hand, a phenomenal smile on her clean lips. Speaking to a lower classmen that had stars in her eyes. She’d been eyeing him since he exited his building, glances over her shoulder, peeks from behind others. She knew. She knew he knew.

Laxus was not one to play games. Mira seemed to suspect this as she was pulled from her student and brought to a desolate pathway between buildings.

“What are you,” he demanded. He left no room for choice in those words.

Back against a wall, Mira blinked. Her blue eyes were startling, shining. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Laxus growled, “you know what I mean. I fucking saw you.”

Mira’s head tilted, but her tone did not match the innocent gesture. It was stronger, deeper, uttered with curiosity. “Saw me?”

Laxus fisted the hand that laid beside her head, brick chewing at his skin. He leaned in, ever slightly. “Don’t play games.” he pulled back that slight touch, a wise thought rolling through his head. “I fucking saw you,” he repeated, breathless.

Mira changed, frame by frame. Like a reel of film strip, a new scene for each second. Her eyes captured his, the same way it did the day before. They lidded as if she were lost in his, delving deeper and further down twisted paths and caverns. The corner of her lips twitched finally, up into something Laxus did not trust.

“You remember.”

His nostrils flared. “Of course I remember, you were sucking some guy dry in the middle of the fucking quad,” he held in his breath as someone passed, lowering his voice, “In broad daylight---you think I’d just forget?”

Something in the upturn of her smile told Laxus she very well did. There was no humor behind that smile, no joy. Behind it was something poisonous, something harsh and cold and...baffled. It didn’t take a detective to tell: Mirajane did not like surprises.

Laxus was waiting. What for, he didn’t know. An explanation, a witty line, her teeth suddenly on his jugular. But, nothing came. Mira only continued to molest his eyes, switching back and forth, tumbling deeper and deeper inside. It was when a sharp pain hit his head that her gaze finally averted. Her eyes swept over his face quickly, pointedly, until they landed on his forehead. Beneath a few stray hairs was the jagged scar that crossed his skin, deep and hurting.

Ever so slightly, her lips pressed. Her gaze returned to his, the incessant blue brewing a storm behind those bright skies. Such dark clouds that began to peek from the edges of her eyes. They were encapturing, immobilizing. Laxus hadn’t the nerve to speak---anything he thought of to say wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure he wanted to say anything with that look.

That look was something that didn’t exist. It was rage, red-hot anger, utter bewilderment. Stupefying confusion. All mixed and washed into one, paralyzing expression on her face. This was not a look any person could hide. This was not a look that existed for Mirajane Strauss.

Laxus felt her elbow snatch from his grasp. He didn’t realize he’d been holding her this entire time---his body searched for ground to step away. She took one step, two, towards him. Blazing fury aflame in her eyes. Then---gone. She had turned, hair whipping over her shoulder and feet stiff as they carried her away. She still had the grace of a puritan in that motion, swaying and strolling with the breeze.

Laxus had not yet found any words, and at this point he knew he needed none. At least not yet. When he would need those words, was a question in of itself.

The time came sooner than Laxus thought. He was on his way back to his apartment now, finished with classes for the week, most projects turned in. He was tired. The day wasn't nearly over yet, but it felt lazy. The clouds were dark and dreary, the sidewalk still moist. He was perfectly fine walking by himself, listening to the squeal of his shoes, watching them in a daze, until:

“You haven’t told anyone what you saw.”

Laxus stopped short, his shoes squeaking. Off in gloom Mirajane stood, as tall and proud as ever. The bangs she had pinned up sagged a little, covered in small raindrops, but of course nothing else was affected. She'd rather be caught dead than unpleasant---not out of choice, but by mere fate of the gods. Her dress was modest, hanging below her knees, but the bodice did little to cover her chest. By the smirk that followed those words, she knew precisely what he was thinking about with that gaze.

Laxus looked around himself now, finding nothing but a few stragglers here and there. Of course she’d catch him alone like this. There didn’t seem to be anything she did that wasn’t calculated. Perhaps that was why she appeared the way she did now; all of that rage and anger from before vanished. She seemed much more lax, more in control. Careless even, at this predicament. Laxus wondered what kind of face she’d show him next---since she had so many.

“I don’t know what I saw.” he spoke.

There it went again, Laxus noticed, that humorless turn of her lips. Just the corners, barely enough to call a smirk. She pushed herself off the bench she had been leaning against, arms crossed, and strode over to him. Never in a rush, never vulnerable. She walked as if she needed all her sides protected, needed a shield to cover all her corners.

“Where’d you get that scar from?” she piqued. Mirajane did not ask. It sounded---it felt---rhetorical. As if she weren’t really interested, but wanted some kind of small talk to fill the air. She spoke as though she were interested, but not by much.

Wisely, Laxus had a hard time believing she found him for chitchat. No, this was something different. She wanted it, he could tell. It was the long stretch of her steps, the soft tilt of her head. It was how she looked everywhere on him except his eyes. Yes, this was something she needed to know.

“How come no one else remembers what they saw?” he questioned now. Laxus found that boy from earlier, the students that walked past without a whiff of what happened. All of them: their minds blank. Not a clue in the slightest of the thing that lived right underneath their noses.

Mira smiled that plastic, schoolgirl smile. She stopped circling the man resembling her prey and offered a shrug. “If you answer my question, I’m sure it’ll answer yours too.”

Laxus harshened his gaze upon her. He searched her eyes, but nothing showed. Not that it ever did much.

“Lightning accident,” he answered, “it fried all the neurons in my brain.”

She laughed. A short, commercial laugh. He understood why---it was typical. A bolt of electricity just so happened to scar him in the shape of a bolt. It crossed his forehead down to his eye, it was hard not to notice.

Only Laxus didn’t see how this answered his question.

“And those pills you’re supposed to take---they keep your head normal?” Mira inquired now. She began pacing again, a flicker in her eye.

Laxus turned as she did, his eyes forced to follow. Something about having his back to her unnerved him.

“How did you know about those?” he demanded. Had she been watching him?

Again, she seemed to read his mind. She smiled a smile that suggested something else was hiding beneath that skin of hers. That beautiful, flawless skin had some thing living underneath it.

“You should keep on schedule with those, you know,” she advised, beautifully spoken to resemble someone who actually cared for his wellbeing. Another tilt of her head, a dangerously feline gesture. “It’s in your best interest.”

Laxus didn’t understand her choice of words. Nothing ever meant what it was supposed to with her---words had entire separate meanings. It was a threat, he realized, coated in honey and sugar. You didn’t get to the poison until you’ve rolled it over your tongue again and again. By then it was too late; you were dead.

Mirajane was already half gone by the time it clicked with him. He saw her fleeting form, how even her walk changed with the weather since the last he’s seen her. Strong and full of grace.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he called after her. He had to resist approaching her---no matter how inclined he felt to keep her from leaving.

Her dress flew and danced as she twirled on her feet. Back again was the sweet and innocent gaze, the angel of Fiore. All she did was a point a finger to her forehead---his forehead, where the scar was.

“What?” he shook his head, frustration building. “No---what are you? It’s not what everyone here believes. Tell me.”

Mira only continued walking, her steps certain as they found ground behind her. Her eyes were gleaming---like the shine of a polished rock. Her voice strengthened as she drew further and further away.

“Take the pills, Laxus.” she said. It was her demand now, an order that left no debate. It’s in your best interest.

Despite the jumble of questions that piled on Laxus’ tongue, none made it out. She was too far, and he wasn’t crazy enough to be chasing after some thing living in a human bodysuit.

He was crazy, but not crazy enough. 

Not yet.

[nschardin]

Interview with DVC Graduate, Matt Blake

How did you know you wanted to be a designer? (Why did you choose the DVC program at UWM?)

I kind of had an interesting g career path. I didn’t know what I wanted to do outside of high school. I knew I liked art and creating. I got into dead-end jobs and knew had I had to do something other than that so I took tests into what my career path should be, and they determined that graphic design would be up my alley. I started looking into graphic design and the more I read about it the more I realized that this was my passion. I’ve always liked art, but I didn’t like it do be like paintings, I wanted it to be more exact and design offered that.

I started out at UW-Sheboygan and the art professor there I talked to was a graduate of UW-Oshkosh so I was trying to decide besides Oshkosh and Milwaukee. I had a friend in Milwaukee so that’s what ended up drawing me here. I also did a bit of research on UWM and found they had a pretty good program for design so that’s what lead me there.

When did you graduate from the program and what have you been up to since?

I graduated in May 2015 and started out just trying to find a job. I did a lot of interviews looking for more graphics design type roles and eventually I ended up interviewing at Northwestern Mutual because along the way I started to shift more towards web design and front-end design and really got interested in things I was reading about that. I started interviewing for front-end jobs and got an interview at NML and I also got an internship at Student Affairs and IT Services (SAITS) where I did more front-end design type stuff.  Luckily things worked out (at NML) and I worked a year as a contractor in 2015 and they hired me on full-time in 2016 and I’ve been doing that since. So, I’m an engineer now.

What advice would you give current DVC students? How does one succeed in the program?

The one thing - the thing I struggled with the most - was time management. I suffered a little because I got too much into perfectionism and I didn’t rely enough on instincts.  Rather than brainstorming a bunch of ideas, choosing one, and going with it I would spend too much time trying to find the “perfect” idea. Trust your instincts.

What should students know now (is there anything they should start doing) that might help them continue to grow as designers once they graduate?

Always keep practicing. I’m not the not the first one to say this, but networking is really important too. Especially when trying to find a job in design it’s really good to have a good network of people that you can communicate with. So, developing your networking skills along with your design skills will help you the most when you graduate.

People don’t really like the word networking. How do network without feeling artificial?

What I’ve done is go to meetups that had a topic that interested me. I think that’s easiest where you go to someplace where you talk about your passion. I went to one of the NEWaukee networking events and that was one of the worst ones because it felt more like a job fair but they also had this DJ blasting music so nobody could hear me and I could barely hear anybody and they were all business people that I had nothing in common with. I think, if you go to events that are more geared towards a topic, rather than networking or career-finding, you’ll be more successful. You don’t want fake friendships, so it’s tough to network with just anybody.  

If you were to redo the entire program knowing what you know now, is there anything you would do differently?

100% I would take more coding classes. This may just be specific to me, but they offered JavaScript classes and I kicked myself that I didn’t take those. I love coding, I love that kind of stuff. I’d have to go farther back than starting the program over because I started when I was 25 and I was working full-time and going to school, and I wish I would have built more of a portfolio before I started the program. Most of what I had in my portfolio was stuff I made in the classes and I wish I would have had more stuff to show. Before I got into the program I was meeting with professionals in graphic design and they said just create projects. Go out and take a logo that you see and try to make it better and add that to your portfolio. I kind of did that but it was tough working full-time and third shift at the time to do that. I wish I would have put more time into that.

What gave you confidence as a student designer? What gave you inspiration? Has that changed since?

Learning about other designers gave me inspiration. I liked a lot of designers that radically thought outside of the box. I think of Stefan Sagmeister for one. He’s a designer in NY and I studied him and took a lot of inspiration from him. He was kind of crazy and really through himself into the designs and I admired that. I took inspiration from everywhere because that’s the great thing about graphic design is that it incorporates so much. You can draw from music as you make music posters and put lyrics in the poster, and you can take inspiration from that to drive your design forward. I think about my favorite artists and think about their process and that inspired me.

As far as confidence, it was tough. There were times I would put my work up and I would think I had a really cool idea, or unique idea, and people would be like – I remember one where they were like writing questions like “what is this even?” or “what does this have to do with anything?” I guess you just have to suck it up and not get offended and too beat down or demotivated by it. Just realize that anything that they’re offering you is helping you. I think of think – I wish I could think of something that’s a little less embarrassing – but Eminem, I think about how he (and other artists have done this) throws himself out there in front of a crowd of people where they have to do a rap battle or something and because and even if someone is booing him or talking trash about him he kind of feeds off of that and I looked it at it that way. I never thought of myself as Eminem or anything but like, yeah, artists who take criticism and can listen to it.  If someone is saying something critical about your piece, take what they have and use that for inspiration. I definitely wasn’t unaffected by criticism, but I would use it to better myself. Just brush yourself off and throw yourself out there again. Just keep going at it. If you’re really passionate about something criticism won’t keep you down for long.  

What is your favorite part of the design process? Least favorite part?

My favorite part is the building part – the creating. You’ve got the idea and now you’re trying to make it real. Least favorite part? The part I kind of struggled with was the critiquing. And not just because of negative feedback or anything like that but it was hard for me to critique. I know when something looks bad, but it’s hard for me to give feedback in certain situations where the design was really good but what could they improve on? It’s something where you train your eye. It gets better over time. I wouldn’t say I hated it but if I had to pick out a part of the process that was my least favorite, that would be it.  

What do we stand for as designers? What do designers do?

We communicate. At the very core level, we communicate. All artists, in a way, communicate. I think we communicate more directly. If you look at a painting, you can draw a bunch of different feelings from it but if you look at a design it should convey some sort of purpose. We communicate in the way we intend to.

Why does design matter?

I think without it the world would be boring. It matters because it serves a lot of different roles. We’d all be wandering around aimlessly without it.

[srednjeskole-blog]

High School (North America)

High School (North America)

High school is a failed experiment in preparing young people for the adult world All high schools in the country were built around 1960 and were designed to hold about half as many students as they currently do. Nothing seems to work quite right in a high school building. Get a preview of life on a college campus—even while you're still in high school. Students like Emma Gonzalez, who gave an impassioned speech Saturday that made waves around the country, have criticized politicians like President Donald Trump, Florida Sen. Week tehnicar drumskog saobracaja 5: I wanted to build off of the momentum from the 4th week, so I had the students try 28 + 17. This problem gives the same answer as 19 + 26 but it pushes the students a little farther by using 8 and 7. In fact, in only one class a student shared the traditional algorithm, but they did it a little different. Not all schools have big reunion parties. Best advice I can give - contact the academic department at the school(s) you plan to attend and see which AP courses, if any, they will count as units toward their program.

I am happy that you are making people aware of the positive and negatives regarding AP classes. I can say that throughout high school, AP classes within their own subject usually become progressively more difficult. Working students may not have or make the time to complete their work. It tells the story of Tomomitsu Tsuchiya, the captain of a basketball team and Sae Hitori, a senior on the same school. Florida Virtual School and Brodomasinski tehnicar Connections Academy (another well received virtual school) decided to work together and create Florida Virtual School Full Time (FLVS FT) which while being similar to the option of being a homeschool student on FLVS, does in fact issue diplomas upon completion. I think some of our students do not always venture out of state due to the cost of tuition and the fact that we have some pretty impressive schools right here in Michigan.

Do the best you can in those courses, especially sophomore and junior year - those 2 years count the most when you apply to college. That does nothing to show students that they are improving their learning over time. American families volunteer to participate in the program because they want to introduce their own culture to the exchange students and to learn about the customs and culture of a foreign Limar country. Programmes typically designed to provide students with fundamental skills in reading, writing and mathematics and to establish a solid foundation for learning. If you can take less classes, do so, and focus more time on the ones you need to get A's and B's in. I hope you have a good time at your upcoming high school reunion, but you look too young to be going to your 20 year reunion :).

Math projects often incorporate STEM—science, technology, engineering, and math—particularly in middle and high school classes. The mission of Liberty High School, a comprehensive learning community that builds on a rich tradition of excellence, is to educate and equip the whole student by providing academically challenging curriculum and extra-curricular opportunities that prepare every student for the post-secondary path of his or her choice. Even now, several months into the school year, I refer to the poster and ask students if they are fake reading or if they thought about what they read. This is a separate piece of work to the ongoing conversations about ‘operational transfer' of High School sports facilities to Edinburgh Leisure to operate community time (after 6.00pm weekdays, weekends and holiday periods).

Personalization is our defining feature, and with a full catalog of more than 180 elementary, middle and high school courses—including AP, honors, career and college prep, electives, world languages and NCAA-approved core subjects—the possibilities for any student are endless. Senior prom is the once in a lifetime event that most high school students look forward to and spend a lot of time preparing Srednja ugostiteljska skola vanredno skolovanje for. Another great way to meet people and see the sites is to take the ASCA College Tour on Tuesday. That we, women now in our 30s, still care is a testament to John Hughes' script about love across class lines (point for Blane); the meaning of friendship and individuality (point for Duckie); and the evil nature of wealthy high schoolers in crisp, white clothing (point for James Spader).

The above-listed statistics are based on studies the Ayusa research team has conducted with students and parents since 2000. We have so much in common with others our age that it's a special joy to be reconnected as a class through this part of the journey; celebrating old and new friendships with classmates makes this time richer still. Current Students can check classes & assignments here. Looking back on those years, high school was Srednja gradjevinska skola not the most enjoyable time of my life. While all the cattle were gone by the time I was in high school, I still lived on the farm out in the country and wasn't allowed to go out and do anything with classmates. I don't recommend printing on white or yellow, I only did it once, because they are see through and the students were just looking through the paper to find what they were looking for instead of actually playing the game.

Im writing an article for our school newspaper about school pranks, this year the seniors spray painted 2010 ALLOVER, you can still see it in the courtyard and trashcans and some arches, as well as the elevator and staircases (our overseas school is kinda gehto, but its soooo fun at our school) and its rumer a couple people took apart a car and put it back together in the gym. If you're a high school student and math gives you the warm fuzzies, this is an intensive multi-summer program for you. This program lets you finish high school, get a diploma, and attend college at the same time. Local stores or fast food centers employ high school students during vacation or summer. The details of Cruz's online comments came as former classmates, teachers and neighbors have said they long feared Cruz may have been capable of violence.

During the incident, The school was initially placed on lockdown, but started dismissing students as a SWAT team worked on clearing the buildings. This fall, attend the high school fairs—at these events, you can meet with representatives from different schools on the same day, in the same place. For more information, see Stevens' webpage: Exploring Career Options in Engineering Residential Kurs elektroinstalatera programs are also available in Pre-Med Engineering, Pre-Med Biomedical Engineering, Coding, Computer Science, Cybersecurity, Game Design and other STEM topics. My visit was a great experience as I learned so much about what this university offers for students. They are partnering with the College Board to offer a number of resources to help students prepare for the new SAT.

[templeofgeek]

We sat down with Joey Spiotto aka Joebot Illustration.  His unique blend of children’s books and geek culture have been creating a buzz on the con circuit and the artist community.  We talk porgs, art, and all things geek!

Q: How did you come up with the idea of combining children’s books and all things geek?

A: Well I had been working on another series of prints where I turn some of my favorite movies/games/tv shows into vintage children’s record albums. I love the idea of taking something that’s not necessarily for children and making it kid friendly. The next obvious choice was turning my favorite geeky things into children’s book covers.

Q: When did you realize you had this special talent and could make a living out of it?

A: I think my parents recognized it long before I did. I was always drawing as a kid, and my mom was very supportive of it. So I was always taking various art classes growing up. In high school I got serious about my future goals of becoming a professional artist and I kinda geared my education towards that. I skipped “regular” college and went right into art school after graduating high school. Growing up I had great teachers that never said that being a professional artist was not a viable path. I was very fortunate to have supportive parents and great teachers helping me along the way.

Q: Is there a specific genre you never get tired of creating?

A: I don’t think so. The great thing about loving a lot of different things is that there’s always new great things being created to base new projects off of. Great TV shows pop up constantly, we’re getting great new genre films on a pretty regular basis, with music based pieces I tend to stick to the classics, and with video games there’s a constant stream of releases throughout the year. If there’s a great character that I feel can easily translate into my style, and i’m a fan of whatever that thing is, i’ll typically tend to go for it.

Q: What sparks your creativity?  I know it’s cliched but what’s your creative process?

A: Sparking creativity is rarely a cliche… sometimes it can be a challenge. I typically create artwork only based off of things I love. So if there’s something that i’m drawn to, it’s usually pretty easy to come up with an idea based off of it. Unless it’s a commission, I really don’t make artwork based off of something i’m not familiar with and that I don’t like. Creativity can be elusive and so if I find myself getting bored of something, I have to step away and come back to it later. Typically I try to work on something else and then come back to what I was working on, and that really helps. Taking breaks, changing gears, and revisiting a piece.

Q: Have you ever wanted to venture out of the children’s books and into another style?

A: I have another series called “High Fidelity” where I recreate vintage children’s records in the style of the old Disney vinyl LP’s. I just released a book with the help of Kickstarter collecting that series. I’ve been very fortunate to have two pretty successful series of prints that i’m known for, and those have kept me busy so I haven’t had time to work on another idea yet. Like with the “records” and the “books”, i’ll know it when the time comes. Those ideas really just came to me as a spark and I saw them clearly in my mind. They also came to me when I had some downtime, and I’ve been super busy the past few years with work and family life so I think I haven’t made room in my brain for another thing. Recently though I’ve been feeling the need to create my own world with characters that I can give life to, that’s sort of where my artistic passion currently is and so while I have nothing to share now, i’m definitely working towards developing those ideas.

Q: Lootcrate recently turned your designs into figures (which we love), can we expect more figures or other mediums for your art?

A: Thanks so much! That was a really cool project to see come together. I can’t say whether we’ll see more of those or not, but feel free to reach out to LootCrate on social media and let them know how much you enjoy them, and if you want to see more! It’s amazing how powerful a tool things like twitter, Instagram and Facebook can be.

Q: Bob Odenkirk from “Better Call Saul” signed your work, what was his reaction?  and do you have any other interested celebrity stories with your work?

A: Yeah, that was AWESOME! I’m a big fan of Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul. I first became familiar with Bob Odenkirk’s work on the HBO series Mr. Show years ago… the dude is brilliant. I’m a big fan so having him appreciate my work is a huge compliment. Unfortunately I wasn’t around for the signing. I guy that follows me online was working in a studio and Bob had come in to do some work. The guy had my prints and brought them in for him to sign and then was awesome enough to take some pictures and send them my way. I did meet Bob Odenkirk a few years earlier when I was part of an official Breaking Bad art show at Gallery 1988. He’s a great guy, we had a real nice conversation. Living in Los Angeles and working with Gallery 1988, i’ve been fortunate to meet quite a few people who’s work I admire. Joss Whedon, Conan O’Brien, JJ Abrams, and Neil Patrick Harris are just a few people who have my artwork hanging on their walls. It’s kinda surreal because i’m a big fan of theirs and then they become fans of mine through my artwork… it’s all kinda weird, but also pretty cool.

Q: Is there a certain person or event that you credit with making you the artist you are today?

A: Jensen and Katie at Gallery 1988 took a chance on me after I quit the video game industry and found myself unemployed when the economy tanked at the end of 2008. They invited me to a few shows and for the first year I sold nothing… it was pretty depressing. Then I went to Disneyland and found inspiration in Mary Blair’s poster for “It’s a Small World” and I came up with an idea for what I wanted to do for their annual “Crazy 4 Cult” art show. My fake kids record “River Tam & The Fireflies” spread around the internet like wild fire and sold out at the show. That was a huge turning point for me and my career as a pop culture artist. Then along the way more opportunities arose as more and more people saw my artwork. I had another career before this working in film and video games as an artist, but i’m happy to have moved on from that world to where i’m currently at.

Q: Has becoming a parent changed your art?

A: Hmmm that’s a great question. My wife and I have two amazing baby boys, and currently I’d have to say the only thing that’s changed my art is the time I have to dedicate to it. I work from home and while that sounds really great, and for the most part it is, it comes with it’s own set of challenges. I’ve definitely had to become more efficient in my use of time, but that’s still hard because sometimes I don’t have it in me, but they’re both napping and I have an hour window to make something happen.  But I think i’m starting to want to make something that I can share with my children and that goes back to wanting to create characters and worlds and tell stories in them.

Q: When are we getting your interpretation of porgs?

A: Ha! I’m VERY excited for the Last Jedi. I’m going to sit on the fence with Porg related art until I’ve seen the film. What if they turn out to be the Jar Jar of The Last Jedi?!? Then I’ve created a bunch of Porg prints that nobody wants to buy. I remember going to the theater just to see the trailer for The Phantom Menace and thinking “There’s no way this will be disappointing!” (For the record, i’m 98% sure Porg’s will be awesome.)

Q: What are you most excited for this Christmas?

I’m excited to take some time away from my desk and be with my family. This has been a busy year for me, I still have some freelance projects to wrap up and then I have a bunch of books arriving any day that I have to ship out to Kickstarter backers, so my year is far from over, but once those all go out and my work is done for the year, i’m looking forward to trying to relax (i don’t really take time for that…ever) and enjoy being a dad and husband without deadlines hanging around me. Oh and Star Wars. I’m very excited for a new Star Wars movie.

Q: What’s next for you?  Cons? Prints? Projects? 

A: I’ve got a bunch of cons lined up next year, with my first one in March I think. So my goal is to work on my own personal project until Con season kicks in and then get back in the swing of things with new prints. I find myself wanting to write a lot lately, so i’m going to take some time to do that and listen to the spark of an idea I’m currently figuring out. Last time I did that it led me to where I am today, so i’m very excited about this new project and looking forward to diving into it.

Check out Joey on…

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Artist Interview with… Joey Spiotto We sat down with Joey Spiotto aka Joebot Illustration.  His unique blend of children's books and geek culture have been creating a buzz on the con circuit and the artist community. 

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5 World-Class Creatives Celebrate Good Design

Today is the day that the HOW International Design Awards closes for the year. Not long after, winners from around the world across a multitude of categories will be selected by this year’s world-class judges:

Pum Lefebure, Design Army Leland Maschmeyer, Chobani Su Mathews Hale, Lippincott

Vanessa Foley Brian Collins, COLLINS

  To celebrate deadline day, we invited our judges to share with us what surprises them about art and design these days, whose work they’re most enjoying and what they believe is the key to good design.

Celebrate Design: Thoughts from 5 Creative Leaders

HOW: What surprises you most about art and/or design these days?

Lefebure: Art always has the power to surprise me, because I never experience a piece of art the same way. I recently went to The Met and saw a Van Gogh painting I’ve seen a thousand times, but this time I had a completely new experience. The next time, I know I’ll see something completely different again. There’s a reason why art has the power to transcend time—it has the ability to mesmerize and draw viewers in. What surprises me about art is that art surprises me every single time. That’s why I don’t look at design for inspiration; I always look at outside sources. I wish design had that same ability, which is why I’m interested in creating work with an element of surprise. The goal is to make people stop and study, to find new details, and to look at design like it’s a piece of art. At Design Army, we always try to create work that has the same power as a classic piece of art—power to mesmerize, power to engage, power to surprise.

Pum Lefebure in her studio among the art she collects, which includes a Massimo Vignelli calendar.

Maschmeyer: I’m enjoying the resurgence of the folk art aesthetic. I see it all over graphic design: Atelier Bingo, Valentine Reinhardt, Jayde Fish, Jacob de Graaf, Nous Vous Collective, Louise Lockhart, Pat Bradbury, etc. It’s beautiful and welcome. I think it’s also part of a larger trend that is rejecting the austerity of techno-driven minimalism. Included in this collected trend is the desire for “authenticity,” the Food Movements return to the dirt, the aesthetic of the Bernie Sanders campaign, domination of street fashion, finstagrams, fetishising fakes/knock-offs as a new kind of subversive craft (see Balenciaga IKEA bags). It’s a lot of fun. 

Mathews Hale: My design team shares weekly inspiration, which includes art, design and just about anything that grabs our attention. I’m often surprised at how few of the things shared are new inspiring designs. Most of the inspiration is art, exhibitions or pop culture. There seems to be a lack of inspiration or things that “surprise” in the world of design these days.

Foley: I think the thing I find most surprising is the constantly fresh ideas I see in the creative community. Like most people, the majority of work I see from other artists, illustrators and designers is via social media. I follow hundreds of incredibly talented, hard-working creatives and get to see new work from them on a weekly basis, and I always find something new and inspirational in the work they produce.

Collins: The damn sameness of everything. In a world of almost limitless possibility, designers are copying each other​ too much.

​The growing number of designers who confuse fame for mastery. Having a hundred thousand followers on Instagram is fantastic. But does it mean your work is great? Perhaps. But not necessarily.

So it’s good—and sort of surprising—to see so many young designers seeking out global competitions again. The ADC Young Guns Awards just tripled their entries this year. That’s unheard of.​ ​It’s also a promising trend as it provides our community with some needed agnosticism in judging our creative work.

HOW: Is there a specific piece of art or design you’ve come across recently and thought wow? If so, what was it?

Lefebure: The best exhibition I’ve seen this year is Balenciaga’s installation at the Musée Bourdele in Paris. The exhibition resonates with classic black garments displayed alongside large sculptures and various artistic mediums. The juxtaposition of the garments and the art is incredibly powerful, with the black-on-black dialogue mixed with early 20th century sculpture. The variations of black are so fascinating, and I love this type of design work that has limitations. How many different things can be done with the classic black dress? It’s all about the form, the stitching, the construction—the garment becomes a sculpture within itself. You don’t often see dresses from that perspective, and the contrast created with large art pieces is powerful and stunning.

Photos by Lefebure, @pumlefebure

Maschmeyer: This isn’t a new piece of design. It is from 2011. But I came across it recently. That year, New York City’s American Folk Art Museum held an incredible exhibition called Infinite Variety: Three Centuries of Red and White Quilts. Held at the Park Avenue Armory, the event design was epic and made a potentially dusty and boring subject feel contemporary and breathtaking. 

Mathews Hale: Woody Pirtle recently started posting archives of his past client work on his Instagram account. The work he did for Amnesty International is as powerful today as it was when he first did it.

  One of many images for Amnesty International

A post shared by Woody Pirtle (@woodypirtle) on Aug 10, 2017 at 3:29pm PDT

Foley: One of my favorite illustrators is my fellow VACVVM member Teagan White. She is a great example of an artist consistently bringing something new to the table. Her work explores every facet of the natural world, from deathly goings-on in the shadowy undergrowth to gorgeously joyful children’s illustrations of little critters romping in the woods, while always keeping to her signature style of illustration and stunning eye for color. 

White’s album artwork for Amber Edgar‘s single “Honey & Sorrow”  | Source: teaganwhite.com/honeyandsorrow.html

Collins: Yes. ​Two places.

The Clam Shack​. It’s a tiny, old, shingle-covered wood shack sitting at the entrance of Falmouth Harbor off the coast of Massachusetts. A slice of 1940s Cape Cod that somehow got trapped in a space-time continuum bubble. Order at the counter, carry a plate of fried clams and french fries upstairs to the roof and watch the boats sail out to Nantucket Bay as a cool wind blows in from the Atlantic. Every single element—the sign, the menu board, the tables, the dock, the sailboats, the music, the s​mell​​​ and the food—is all ruthlessly designed for one function: to make a summer afternoon perfect.

​R/GA. T​he​ design of their massive new office in New York City​ is extraordinary​​. It​ embodies ​one future not only of design, technology and communication, but ​a ​promising, optimistic ​future of working itself.

HOW: Favorite artist and/or designer?

Lefebure: My favorite artist is Willem de Kooning, whose work is a form of abstract expressionism. I think I learned color from studying his work. He creates the most interesting, complex color palettes, and he expresses color so fearlessly. You can see the energy and intention within each of his brush strokes. I also love that it doesn’t matter if it’s a big or small painting you’re looking at. He approaches every piece with the same intensity, and because of that energy, he’s able to create something powerful. That’s our intention at Design Army as well. Whether big small, we approach every project with tremendous care and passion.

Painting by Willem de Kooning

Maschmeyer: This is a hard question because it changes all the time. Currently, Virgil Bloh captures my imagination.

  “a handmade headache”

A post shared by @virgilabloh on Aug 24, 2017 at 2:08pm PDT

Mathews Hale: I’m obsessed with Christoph Niemann. A designer, illustrator, artist—his work is simple, inspiring and clever. It always makes me smile.

One of Niemann’s animations for the Obama Foundation on “Civic Participation at Home and Abroad.” | Source: christophniemann.com/portfolio

Foley: My favorite artist is the New Zealand bird artist Raymond Harris Ching, as I am (primarily) a bird artist also I feel his work feeds and inspires me in a very direct way, and I’m always looking to his work as a yardstick to measure my own. 

There are many artists out there who paint incredibly well and whose work could be mistaken for photos; although I’m in awe of the skill such artists show, I feel their work is more about the considerable skill of the artist and less about the bird. But with Raymond Harris Ching, I feel the secret life of every bird in his paintings. The work is all about the subject’s character and personality, with exaggerated poses, unusual interactions and even occasional speech bubbles that bring life and vibrancy to his unsurpassable work. 

Collins: Corita Kent. Ray Eames. Rebeca Mendez. Jennifer Morla. Robin Day. Mary Blair. Diane Arbus. Nan Goldin. Mary Ellen Mark. Kara Walker. Louise Nevelson.

If you don’t know them, you should.

Jennifer Morla’s Mexican Museum poster, the work of which she is most proud, she told PRINT.

HOW: What’s the key to good design or artwork?

Lefebure: Good design should please the eyes and activate the mind. To me, that’s the main difference between art and design. Art is dependent on your personal experience—I could look at a painting and fall in love, while someone else might feel nothing. The purpose of design is to create some kind of activation. Of course the work has to be visually stimulating, but it also has to have the ability to create a reaction. Good design must have the power to seduce; it has to be strong enough to evoke some kind of emotion.

Maschmeyer: 1) A concept. 2) A thorough knowledge of the design history upon which you’ll inevitably draw.

Mathews Hale: Good design has an idea, with flawless execution.

Foley: I think perhaps for each person it will be slightly different, but for myself I find balance and organization very pleasing. I’m naturally drawn to work that shows great care in composition and a unity of color within the piece. 

Collins: Th​ere are three.

​1. Listening for what people are not saying. They often want, need or hope for something they have no idea how to articulate. You’ll only hear it if you’re paying attention.

​2. Finishing something early. And then changing it. And changing it again. And then again, before a deadline. Make it new. Make it better. And then, make it new, again. Do not stop.

​3. Avoid thinking of what you do as “problem solving.” That’s an old, meaningless trope. The future is coming at us so fast now that if all you’re doing is “solving a problem,” then you’re already too late. Push out ahead—look, explore, anticipate. Be a problem seeker. Invent the future. Don’t simply react to it.

HOW: How do you stay confident in your creative decisions?

Lefebure: I’ve always believed that the eyes must travel and constantly experience new things. I study art religiously, because that’s where I draw inspiration. Whether it’s Africa, or Paris, or Greece—when you see new things, you’re able to bring elements of those experiences into your work. As you become more experienced and bolder, you stop giving a shit about other people’s opinions of your work. You realize that you know what you like, and you know what you don’t like, so there’s no reason to follow trends. I’ve developed the vocabulary of Design Army over the years, and I know who we are as an agency. At the same time, we continue to be innovative and constantly move forward. At the end of the day, it’s about trusting your intuition and following your gut feeling, regardless of what other people think. What we’re selling to the client is intangible—it’s not 1+1=2; it’s 1+1=5. To be a successful designer, confidence is absolutely crucial.

Photos by Lefebure, @pumlefebure

Maschmeyer: I put my head down and work the work from every possible angle until I erase 90% of my dread. But that last 10% sticks around because you never know what’s going to happen when you present the work or make it public. 

Mathews Hale: I try not to read too many design blogs. Most of them are filled with mindless chatter and not real critical critiques. I also surround myself with talented, creative people.

Foley: This is definitely something I do struggle with. Mostly I don’t feel confident at all, and for a long time that was something that was a huge hinderance to my work, as I would discard piece after piece I wasn’t happy with. Over time and with much perseverance, I learned to fix problem-pieces instead of simply starting over. This really is the only way to learn what isn’t working and more importantly why it isn’t working! The confidence and experience gained from completing a painting or drawing you’ve been on such a journey with is absolutely priceless and something that will serve you well in future work.

Collins: By looking backward into the past. And looking forward into the future. But never looking over my shoulder.

And, of course, it helps to be surrounded by the best people I’ve ever worked with in my life. They never fail.

But if I get really rattled, I whistle​. And it’s often ​​this song from Roger & Hammerstein’s The King and I, a musical my ​Aunt Eileen took me to when I was eight​.

Seriously. As corny as that is, I whistle.

About the Judges of the HOW International Design Awards

Pum Lefebure is the co-founder and chief creative officer of Design Army in Washington, DC. With an entrepreneurial edge, the Thailand native brings global sensibility to American design. Through distinctive creative direction, she dreams up high-profile campaigns for clients such as the Academy Awards, Bloomingdale’s, The Ritz Carlton and Pepsi. Her creative brilliance sets the agency apart, driving their reputation as leading industry trendsetters.

From Copenhagen to Beijing, Pum speaks and judges design competitions internationally. She uses her entrepreneurial voice to represent women in global campaigns, such as H&M’s She’s A Lady. She’s also been featured in Forbes, Huffington Post, Entrepreneur, Elle and recently named Adweek’s Creative100.

Leland Maschmeyer is the chief creative officer of Chobani, which Fast Company ranked as the ninth most innovative company in the world and one of “5 Brands That Matter Now.’”

Previously, he co-founded and led Collins—a design consultancy Forbes praised as defining the future of brand building. Adweek recognized Maschmeyer as a “Young Influential,” Campaign honored him as a “Global 30 Under 30,” and Graphic Design USA selected him as a ‘”Designer to Watch.” He has also served on the AIGA/NY Board of Directors and has taught in the SVA MFA Program since 2009.  

Su Mathews Hale is a senior partner in design based in Lippincott’s San Francisco office.

For more than two decades, she has thrived at the intersection of graphic design and brand strategy. Using the power of design to develop inspiring creations while solving business problems, she has worked with a broad range of notable clients including Chick-fil-A, eBay, Hayneedle, Hershey’s, Hyatt, IHG, Liz Claiborne, New York Public Library, RadioShack, Red Robin, Samsung, Shutterstock, the U.S. Department of State and Walmart.

She currently serves as the president of the AIGA, where she has spearheaded Women Lead, a committee dedicated to celebrating the achievements of women in design, cultivating awareness of gender-related issues, and connecting women both within and beyond the design industry.

Vanessa Foley is a professional artist based in Newcastle, England. Having always lived in the city, which she loves, her heart still lies in the wild Northumberland countryside that surrounds her bustling town. Her love of nature and art are inseparable, and she could never imagine one without the other.

Foley regularly shows her work in notable galleries in the UK and America, and has her work in private collections worldwide. In 2017 she was very proud to be invited to be the newest member of The VACVVM, an international cult of illustration co-founded by Aaron Horkey and Mitch Putnam.

Brian Collins is chief creative officer of COLLINS, an independent brand & experience design company in New York City and San Francisco, California. Throughout his career, Brian and his team have won every major creative award.

Recently, Fast Company, Wired, and Design Week chose COLLINS’ global redesign of Spotify as the year’s best, and Forbes called their interactive music video for Azealia Banks “the future of music videos.” In January 2017, COLLINS was named by Forbes as one of the companies transforming the future of brand building.

Brian has been a professor in the graduate program of the School of Visual Arts in New York City since 2001. He is also a director of The One Club for Creativity, the world’s foremost nonprofit organization recognizing creative excellence in design and advertising.

Feeling inspired?

The judges of the HOW International Design Awards await your work.

Enter the HOW International Design Awards by 11:59pm EDT on Monday, Sept. 11.

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