#ARE WE GON A SEE HIM ON A RUNWAY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

s-i-m-p0 · 2 years ago

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Epel felmier x childhood friend! Reader

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Today was epel's birthday and I decided since he can't come home and visit I'll come to him.

So now I'm stood infront of epels dorm with a small present bag. I am so nervous, I feel like a fish out of water everything here was so fancy, while I was in denim-shorts with a red flannle shirt and adorned on the back if my neck was a staw hat and Simple brown boots were on my feet caked in dirt and muck.

"Bonjour mademoiselle, how may I help you," a thick french voice asked. "Oh! Umm...,i'm y/n,jm looking for epel felmier,he's my friend"

"Ah! Of course,mon cheri, follow me" I nod and start following the figure. We enter fancy dorm "ehem!" I spin around to see a more fancier looking man with hair dyed purple at the end.

"Rook whyd you bring in a muck?" "Ah!, Roi de Poison, this is y/n, a friend of epel from his village"

This 'rou de poison' dude eyed me suspicious and slowly circled me. "Hmm, you do have good bone structure but you dotn look suitable enough to see epel right now in you're...state"

I send him a weird look. "Hey! I'm just dropping off gifts from us from hone then I'll be gon-"

"Sh! I won't hear it, rook, to the salon" he started to walk away and rook grabbed my arm draging me along behind him.

I was pulled into a seat infrotn of a vanity decorated with all kinda of make up.

"Rook, give me a hair brush and the hair spray" my hair was unbraided from its plat and a brush was draged through my hair.

My head was pulled back. "Keep you're head up," the dyed haired hissed pushing my head back up.

"So tell me,mon cheri, how come we didn't meet you when we visited?"rook asked curiously.

"Oh I was hunting some animals to feed mine plus other familys"

In the reflection I could see the one behind me grimace.

"Oh! You have a hunting group?" "Yeah we call it 'hunters of artimis' after the Greek god"

Rook nods.

"Now we've finished your hair...time for make up...oh the great seven please epel and sit still."

"Oh beautiful vil, they're from the same place, I'll say they'll be co-operative"

This new named vil person sat next to me and opened up a make up pallet.

"Tell me more about your hunter group, please mademoiselle"

"Well we use different wepons; bows,swords,spears and sometimes Poison in winter"

One side of my face was lightly grabbed and tilted.

"You've used Poison?" Vil asked Intriged now by our conversation.

"Yes, the alchemist make Poison that's harmless to humans but extremly deadly on animal

We don't tell the village about the alchemist but a small portion of the village is part of it"

He let out an odd chuckle. "Face me" he ordered.

I shuffle round and face vil as he starts on my left side. "How can a Poison be deadly to animals and not humans?" He asked.

"Well, we had done some test on dead trees that had animal remains on and we tried on some human bones..." I grimace with vil remembering the testing process "and human bones we bought from a neighbouring village who's culture is too sell the dead on

Then we added hyoblplical acid with HASIC2 ( i have no idea what that is i made it up) and got the results we needed"

I suddenly glinch as cold liquid was pressed on my face. "What was that?!" I panic moving back slightly. "Foundation, now come back closer I'm nowhere near done"

~~~~after all...that~~~~~~~

"Now you're outfit, rook something poofy or layed down"

"Hmm...I'd say poofy but not met-gala poofy, Roi de Poison"

He nods and grabs a few dresses from the rack. "Why... you know what never mind"

Considering this dorm I couldn't ask why they had dresses because nearly everyone here looks as a fem-boy (not that its a bad thing!!!)

I was unceremoniously pushed into a changing room. "Come out when you're done" vil ordered I sigh I just wanted to say happy birthday to epel, deliver gifts and go back home,not have a runway show.

I removed my clothes (and shoes) and slip into this fancy weird outdated dress. Slowly I step out aqwuardly "no," "no" "agreed"

This prossess happened til I just grabbed one at random and decided that is the one.

I close y eyes tightly and grab a dress hoping for the best.

My hand grabbed one that felt comfy in my hands and had no weird spinening. I open my eyes to see a lovely lilac dress

I put it on easily and step out. "Alright I'm open with a runway can I just see my friend?" I beg crossing my arms.

"Hmm, suits you well enough don't you agree rook?" "Oui"

A unrelated sigh left my lips and I grab my clothes from the changing room.

Rook took them and placed them in a bag "I'm sure these heels will fit fine"

I nod and slid them on. "Can I see epel now?"

"Yes,follow us" a exhausted groan left my mouth as I follow holding my stuff.

We ended in a ballroom filled either people chatting away in groups and food along one side of the room with drink on the other.

"Y/n?" My head darts around for that familiar voice. I lock eyes with epel. "Epel!" I yell running up to him full speed.

I lock arms around his neck as his lock aroudn my waist spinning me around.

When I was placed down a few 'awws' or cheering was heard.

"Y/n, baby, you look so Pomefiore like" he laughs. "Well someone found me when rook tried to take me to you and decided a fashion show was ideal" I laugh along pointing at vil.

Epels arms stayed around my waist with his head resting on my sholder.

Vil and rook aproched "so, epel, you baby potato are dating her, a potential model lf tried hard enough" I roll my eyes "you wish drama queen"

Third person;

Y/n laugh with epel "oh! I have to show ya the gardens there amazing!" Epel grabs his beloved hand and

I sigh taking in the moment and rest my head on epels chest. "I love you" i mumble "me too, my sweet apple"

As the clock struck midnight epel picked you up bridal style and carrier you inside.

"It appears baby potato has found love way before we knew rook" vil laughs.

(these are all from my drafts help)

#epel felmier x reader #fem reader #twisted wonderland

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zaffrenotes · 3 years ago

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[TRR: WD106] Avoiding A Blunder

Summary: Prince Liam has to fill in for Crown Prince Leo, and Murphy’s Law is put into motion at the end of his trip. Chaos ensues, condensed Wacky Drabble style. Fic Rating/Warning: M; alcohol consumption, minor health/medical emergency, anxiety/angst Author’s Note: All main characters belong to Pixelberry/The Royal Romance, I’m just borrowing them * Fictional versions of IRL individuals are included with affection; any other characters mentioned in this piece are my creation * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 106: You’re gonna get us busted! * You have @the-soot-sprite and @ao719 to thank for this ridiculousness, lol - Soot reblogged a photo, Betsy sent me this request

and...this is what my brain came up with (PS - thank you both for the movie discussion) * For the purposes of this story, Triydalia is a fictional country that shares a border with Thailand * Word Count: 1999 😅 (7 minutes reading time)

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I'll tag you in the comments): @/ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @/the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @dcbbw @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @ladyangel70 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @yourmajesty09

Liam was used to filling in for Leo at a moment’s notice; participating in conference calls with ambassadors for early morning updates when Leo overslept, and attending meetings with ministers when Leo went AWOL. He’d grown accustomed to his brother’s antics, but he wondered how Bastien managed to keep his position, when he’d lost track of Leo’s whereabouts countless times.

While Leo spent more time avoiding his duties as Crown Prince of Cordonia, Liam dutifully took on the extra responsibilities in stride. It often meant partitioning his already packed schedule to sit in on vital cabinet meetings or dining with visiting dignitaries, but sometimes Leo’s vanishing acts gave Liam the opportunity to travel.

Though their ambassadors handled the majority of day-to-day relations with other countries for trade, Constantine preferred to meet face-to-face when he could. One such time, a lingering cough turned to walking pneumonia, restricting Constantine to as much bed rest as possible. It also meant sending Leo to Japan for a meeting with the Prime Minister in his stead.

It would have been fine, if Leo hadn’t pulled another one of his disappearing acts.

A week later, Liam was seated on the royal jet on his way back from Tokyo, navy attache with espresso brown leather trim in the chair next to him. Across from him, Maxwell chatted with Anya over various Thai dishes. On the other side of the plane, Drake was in a heated discussion with leggy blonde Anitah while the ladies’ petite friend Donna observed in silence, fighting back a grin. “You’re an imbecile if that’s your opinion,” Anitah declared, raising her hands up in the air. “Are you sure that’s the hill you wanna die on?”

Drake smugly sipped from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “I’m right and you know it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Liam asked, relieved to think about anything other than what was in the bag and why it was so important he hand deliver it to his father.

“Fight Club being a better cinematic masterpiece than The Princess Bride,” Drake replied. “You guys agree, right? If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, you’d want to watch Tyler Durden fight the system instead of some…” he paused to sneer at Anitah, who crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at him, “...story about a swashbuckler rescuing a princess? She’s not even a real princess!”

“Fight Club is such a guy movie though,” Anya argued, turning in her seat to face Drake. “Princess Bride appeals to men and women, with a much larger audience.”

“Okay, that’s two for Buttercup,” Drake sighed. “Maxwell? Li?” He looked at his friends expectantly.

“Fight Club, definitely,” Maxwell said, nodding his head. He’d spent the better part of the trip doing everything to get into Drake’s good graces after the octopus incident on the first night in Tokyo.

Before Liam could respond, a commotion from the front of the plane made everyone’s heads turn, where a pair of Kings Guards and two flight attendants were seated near the galley. One of the guards slipped into the cockpit, rushing out a moment later in Liam’s direction, as the jet slowly tilted to the right. “Apologies, Your Highness. Do you or any of your guests happen to speak Triydalian?”

Anya slowly raised her hand. “I knew a bit when I was a kid, but I haven’t used it in years.”

The guard motioned for her to join him. “Please come with us, miss. The pilots need a translator.”

“Is everything alright, Remy?” Liam peered past the guard, eyes widening at the sight of the other guard and one attendant hovering in front of the other attendant in a chair.

“We need to land the plane, Sir,” Remy answered, ushering Anya up from her seat. “Ramona passed out. She’s breathing but unresponsive.”

Twenty minutes later and after a jarring landing, they’d arrived at a small airport in the Republic of Triydalia, at the edge of one of the country’s many jungle forests. Calling it an airport was generous - it was more of a cleared dirt path in the middle of the jungle with a shack for an airport tower, and a man that looked like more of a hunter than an air traffic controller. After a choppy conversation that required pantomiming and hand signals, Anya left with Remy and the man from the tower to fetch a tribal doctor, while Anitah and Donna assisted the other member of the cabin crew to look after Ramona. They were warned to remain as quiet as possible and to stay inside the jet.

Minutes passed by in tense observation; Anitah and Drake continued their debate in low whispers, growing louder as they defended their choices. Liam could see the pilots discussing something pointedly as they checked readings on the instrument panel and worked on calculations. One of them stepped out, claiming that he needed to stretch his legs, and walked cautiously down the runway. When he returned, the other pilot joined him outside, despite the original warning to stay inside. Liam peered out the windows and checked his watch, worrying about Anya and Remy, along with his father’s instructions to avoid delaying their return.

While the remaining guard headed towards the back of the plane to pace back and forth for the eighth time, Liam took it upon himself to speak with the pilots. The air was thick and stifling the moment he stepped outside. Around them, there was nothing but green, green, and more green from the wilderness that surrounded them, abuzz with tropical birds and insects. At his side he carried the blue attache, remembering the promise to his father that the bag wouldn’t leave his sight. He spoke in a hushed tone when he approached the pilots. “You’re doing more than just stretching your legs, aren’t you, Captain?”

Both men grimaced slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Even if we pulled back to one end of the runway, we’re still at least five hundred feet short of clearing takeoff.”

“What if we worked to try and clear the brush on either end?” Liam offered, looking off into the distance.

“There’s no way to clear out the trees, even the young ones,” the co-captain answered. “We might be able to take off if we could drop some weight, but the larger concern is the longer we wait, we increase the risk of encountering someone who doesn’t want us here.”

Liam nodded gravely; months of civil unrest in Triydalia meant rebel groups assembled faster than the government could contain them. There was no guarantee of anyone’s safety, stranded on a remote runway. There was no telling what was wrong with Ramona while she was unconscious, and therefore no way to treat her without the aid of a doctor. Ensuring the safety of the crew and his friends could have been avoided altogether if Leo didn’t constantly opt out of handling the duties of his station. In that moment, Liam abhorred the never-ending list of responsibilities thrust at him as a result of having to pick up the slack for his brother, knowing if their roles were reversed, Leo would manage to find a way to leave Liam to solve problems on his own.

“Could you excuse me for a moment?”

He’d barely finished asking the question before walking into the tall grass by the edge of the runway. Ignoring the pilots’ calls to return, Liam sprinted into the dense greenery, dodging between vines and scanning the ground for tripwires until he could no longer see the plane over his shoulder. When he finally stopped running, he bent over, hands on his knees as he gulped in air. Liam looked down at the blue bag in his hand, wondering what on earth was so precious to reduce him to a courier.

Shaking the bag did nothing; it felt practically empty, though he could tell something was inside. He couldn’t open the bag to check, since Prime Minister Abe and his father were the only ones with keys, and PM Abe handed him the sealed bag when they parted ways. Liam wanted to throw the infernal “murse” the ladies had good-naturedly teased him for into the bushes. Perspiration dotted his hairline, and he let out a primal scream, before taking slow, deep breaths to quiet the worrisome thoughts racing in his head and bring his heartbeat down to normal.

Cursed courier bag in his right hand, Liam braced his arm against his torso, pinning it in place with his elbow when he bent his other arm up towards his face. Curling his fingers into a relaxed fist, he pressed his lips against his thumb, thick brows furrowing in thought. All around him, wild birds called to one another amidst the chittering clamor of insects hidden in the foliage. He was so busy running through scenarios in his head that he didn’t hear the quiet click of a camera, turning to look up only when he heard a branch snap in the distance.

“Watch it! You’re gonna get us busted!” Donna hissed to Drake. She pocketed her phone, elbowing Drake in the ribs as they crouched behind large leaves. She ticked her head in Liam’s direction. “Go get your boy, none of us are safe out here.”

After some coaxing, Liam headed back to the plane with Donna and Drake, walking briskly through the jungle, eyes trained to look for anything out of the ordinary. Liam was alarmed when he heard and then saw the engines running, until Drake explained the pilots were burning off fuel to lighten the plane. They’d begun to walk up the steps, when Maxwell popped out above them. “Whoo!” Maxwell exclaimed, digging for another snack from the container he cradled in his arm. “Feels like a sauna out here!”

“Lower your voice, Maxwell! Please!” Liam seethed. His features pinched together in disbelief. “Are you...eating? Now?”

“You know I stress snack,” Maxwell replied, shrugging his shoulders. He shoved another cookie into his mouth.

Liam’s eyes lit up and he took the stairs two by two, knocking on the cockpit door before swinging it open. “What if we unloaded whatever’s not bolted down? The decor, dinnerware, the food and drink?”

“That...would certainly help,” the captain replied, looking back over his shoulder. He turned to his co-pilot. “It could be enough to get in the air after burning off the excess fuel.”

“You heard the man, Maxwell,” Liam said, offering his friend a nervous grin. “Get Drake to help you start unloading the plane. Has Ramona’s status changed?”

“Donna found the first aid kit just before she took off with Drake to go after you. Anitah found some smelling salts that gave her a rude wakeup call. Turns out her insulin pump shorted and she just needed some juice.”

Several more minutes passed as the group removed whatever they could from the plane, leaving piles of cookware, food, throw pillows, and even seat cushions to lighten the load. Drake whined when they gathered up the liquor, but he stuffed a bottle of whiskey in a cabinet by his seat. They’d nearly finished when Anya and Remy returned, running on foot. “That thing better be ready to take off!” Anya hollered, motioning for everyone to board. “Rebels on our tail! Time to go!”

Everyone scrambled back onto the plane; Liam relayed the urgency to depart to the pilots, who rapidly went through their flight checklist. Remy pulled Anya up onto the steps and they all clamored to buckle into their seats, the sound of gunfire in the air as the jet rolled forward and lurched up into the air, barely clearing the canopy.

Adrenaline pumping and breaths shallow, Liam looked around at his friends and the crew, thankful they were safely in the air again.

Liam thought he was having a stroke at twenty-four when he saw the contents of the bag. Constantine smiled with glee at the small gold cat, one paw raised.

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whom-the-hell · 4 years ago

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𝓗𝓸𝔀 𝓘 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓱𝓪 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓴 𝓸𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓼...

1A class:

⥅ Deku: I feel like Izuku would try to walk on heels, but when he would he would either break the heels or one of his bones.

⥅ Uraraka: She would be a very slow walker when it would come to heels. She wouldn’t be able to walk very fast because she isn’t very used to them. I do feel like she would wear those small heel heels (if that make sense).

⥅ Bakugou: I just KNOW that he’s SO good in heels. He can dance, fight, train and do anything with them.

⥅ Todoroki: He can stand in them like a statue but that’s it. When he walks, he looks like a broken robot trying to move his legs, he isn’t relaxed, he has no elegance in the way he walks and it’s just horrible. But hey, he will then ask how to walk in them and try to walk in them again.

⥅ Iida: He would fall a lot and try to use his hands to stop the falling. He would try to talk to the heels to just stop making him fall and stumble over.

⥅ Kirishima: He wouldn’t fall, but he would definitely stumble over on air and catch himself by holding onto the wall or anything in general. He wouldn’t be able to last 20 seconds without stumbling over something.

⥅ Denki: He would try to be goofy and walk like a model but fail miserably and end up breaking the heel on one of the pair. He would also try to dance but would suck at it and look like a duck trying to shake his booty.

⥅ Sero: I have this headcanon of him just taping a chair and sitting down on it with heels on while singing the song “Chandelier” from Sia. Denki would probably record all of it too.

⥅ Mina: She walks perfectly! She’s our queen that is amazing at anything she does.

⥅ Tsuyu: I think she would be very uncomfortable in walking in them. She isn’t used to wearing something like that on her legs, because of her quirk. She would mostly just sit on the floor and stare at the heels.

⥅ Hagakure: I think she would be good, we can’t see her, but she’s good.

⥅ Jirou: I feel like she is more of “be comfortable” than stylish, so I think she wouldn’t be very good in walking in them. In fact, she would be almost like Todoroki. Very stiff and doesn’t know how to move.

⥅ Aoyama: He looks like those runway models in heels. He will absolutely SLAY in them. He will pose, dance, flex and so on. Some of us should really take some classes from him.

⥅ Ojiro: I feel like he wouldn’t be able to walk in heels and just fall when he tries to stand up, so I think he would just lay on the floor with them on like “what am I doing with my life?”

⥅ Koda: Him? In heels? Nah, he rather talk to animals and be outside. His first question when he sees heels would be “what is that”.

⥅ Sato: He would try to walk in a straight line and succeed. He would be surprisingly amazing at it even if it was his first time.

⥅ Shoji: Kakashi 2.0 wouldn’t even put them on. He would be scared of them, like they’re some kind of creature’s that can hurt him.

⥅ Tokoyami: He would put them on and walk in a straight line like it was nothing. He would notice how people are looking at him and be like “was that supposed to be hard?”

⥅ Momo: She would stumble then and there, but other than that she would be really good in walking in them. Literally walking in her louis Vuitton heels and money just falling out of her bag.

⥅ Mineta: He wouldn’t wear the heels; he would smell them. He would want to know if there were hot girls walking in them.

The big three:

⥅ Mirio: He would suck at walking in heels, but laugh whenever he would fall and say that it’s a first time for everything.

⥅ Tamaki: He would look down from the anxiety and embarrassment he would be receiving. He would also stumble quite a bit and fall a couple times.

⥅ Nejire: She’s just like Mina, she can do ANYTHING in heels. She likes wearing heels a lot, and thinks that they’re comfortable.

Pro heroes (some):

⥅ All Might: Yeah no, he can’t walk in heels for the life of his. He can’t even stand without him just falling in some way and waving his hands around for help.

⥅ Eraserhead: He tries to use his quirk by thinking that it’s going to help in some way. He will swear any time he falls or stumbles over too.

⥅ Endeavor: SHOTOOOOOOOOO- Yeah but if seriously, he is like this big, brick wall that can’t move his legs. He can’t even move his head because he would just fall.

⥅ Hawks: BRUH HE’S SO GOOD LIKE JDEFJKSDBVJK. He will literally go out and do his hero work in heels if you just ask him to, and he will have no problem with it. He will randomly put on heels and dance in his room at 3am if he feels like it too.

⥅ Miruko (Mirko): I feel like she would be a bit uncomfortable by them, but she would get the hang of it over time and start to like them. She wouldn’t see the point in wearing them on a normal day though.

⥅ Midnight: She is a GODESS at walking in heels. Like an angel that just came from heaven herself.

⥅ Mt. Lady: Same like Midnight. She walk’s amazingly and I'm jealous.

⥅ Fatgum: He tries to walk like a hero would, and he’s good at it until he comes half way. At the start he walk’s well, doesn’t fall, doesn’t trip. But when he gets a bit too confident in himself, he will fall.

Villains (some):

⥅ Shigaraki: He will make Dabi hold him if he falls too much. Shiggy will not be able to walk nor stand in one place. He will probably just fall and die.

Dabi: OKAY BUT- I JUST HAVE THIS FEELING OF HIM SLAYING IN HEELS. Like he would walk better than the girls and pro hero women 😀✋

Overhaul: He will be SO bad at walking in them. He will literally hold into a chair or desk and not let them go when he’s standing in heels.(idk how he gon hold on to anything with that arm situation of his, but let’s just imagine his arms are still okay-) Will also probably ask someone to burn them, or he will burn the heels himself.

Toga: Fuck heels- She HATES heels. She can’t stand them- Just one look on those devilish shoes and she will literally freak out.

Kurogiri: He wears shoes? WAIT WHA- Omg he wears shoes and I didn’t even notice... Anyways, he will wear them if Shigaraki says for him to wear them. He would still suck tho.

Stain: He just refuses to wear them. You can’t make him, unless you kill Endeavor or All Might.

Twice: The one second, he walks like a king, the other he is laying on the floor and crying-

Kurono: “What are heels...?” Boy- He will wear them if Chisaki makes him (Overhaul). He will also suck at it but wear them when he has alone time and train so he hits the goal of walking perfectly on them.

Mr. Compress: He LOVES heels in secret. So, when somebody asked him to try them on and walk in them, he knew his time has come.

(Side note! Are you good on heels? I know I bought a pair recently and boy, do I look fabulous- I do need more experience but I think I’m good at walking in them.)

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erikismybitch · 6 years ago

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Drillmonger:Conclusion part 1

This conclusion will be 2 parts .

It was finally happening. After nearly a year of flying as an international crew member , she was finally flying to Africa. And because the universe hated her , as she thought , Candy was running late . In her heels and uniform she ran through the terminals in search for hers . She was at the Heathrow Airport in London, a major connecting hub and a middle ground for overseas flights .

By faith , Candy made it to her gate , spotting the passengers lined up to board the plane . They couldn’t start the process without her .

“I’m so sorry you guys , my Uber driver got lost!” Candy lied to the other crew members . Truth was , she had overslept.

“Girl they are pissed that we are six minutes behind schedule “ she teased . Candy knew her as Maria, a bubbly Mexican girl who she’d flown with before . They weren’t necessarily friends, but they could relate to each other . Candy laughed and dragged her carry-on down the tarp and onto the plane.

This flight was a long one . It would take them eleven hours to fly into the beautiful East African country of Wakanda. Candy began to quickly do her pre flight duties . She stocked food in the rolling carts , made sure the blankets made it to each seat and all entertainment tablets were functional.

“We are now boarding” the head Flight attendant warned to the crew .

Candy stood in economy awaiting the passengers. As soon as the people began to load , she assisted them with their carry-ons and stowaways . There was such a shift in Candy’s work ethic . Usually her smiles and upbeat speech was a part of the act . This time it was genuine . She would be spending three full days in East Africa. On the third she had to head back to work . Her itinerary was already planned , three days full of exploration. The historic museums , hiking through the beautiful mountains and eating everything she could fit in her mouth .

The plane taxied along the runway and awaited take off . Candy stood in the middle of economy and did the safety belt and air passage demonstration . The pilot informed them of take off and the crew took their seats .

Once they reached the correct altitude the pilot turned off the seat belt sign and everyone was free to move about the cabin.

What Candy didn’t know was that her trip plans would soon take a shift . Erik was taking the long journey to visit his family after four years .

Erik was on that very same flight .

Candy had been so distracted by her lateness that she didn’t see him waiting in line to board the plane. But he saw her and it made him happy... it made Erik very happy.

Seeing her was like a light , that lead him from the darkness that had been his life without her . She looked good , he missed her. At first instinct he wanted to walk up to her and hug her. Even if that was too much , he just wanted to feel her body on his. It had been so long, even a handshake would do .

“Alert: B-2”

Flashed across the call screen. It flashed each time a passenger called for assistance.

“B-2, that’s in first class right?” Candy asked the group . They all let out a laugh at her naiveness, even Maria who spoke up first .

“Yeah, you’ve never served first class?”

“Always economy “ she told them .

Maria told her that she was assigned to first class for this flight. And that first class passengers were almost always ass holes. Maria asked if Candy wanted to switch and she complied .

The alert signaled again . Why not, Candy thought . She figured she might meet someone with connections and they could suggest some great places to go on this short trip .

Candy walked carefully to the first class section of the plane . Seeing nothing but a man with headphones and a beanie seated in B-2. The famous smile that was always plastered on her face slowly faded as his face came into view. She couldn’t believe that Erik was before her.

A year had almost passed without any communication on his part . Candy felt that she had finally gotten to a place where she wasn’t affected by his absence. She had blocked his name from her brain. She had even had sex with other men.

Then what was this feeling of silent panic . Erik hadn’t even opened his mouth to speak a single word . He looked up at her and slid his headphones off of his ears. Erik’s dimples imprinted in his cheeks with his small smirk . “Can I get a blanket or somethin’? “ he spoke as if this transaction was platonic . As if he and Candy had no history at all . “Please?” He let off his full blown smile now, after he noticed that Candy wasn’t the least bit amused.

“Sure thing “ Candy gave him an answer just as platonic as his question . She avoided looking into his actual face and walked to the back of the plane. Maria noticed the look on her face upon her return . She just assumed that the first class passenger was rude . “I told ya”

“It’s not that” Candy told her .

“What is it ?”

“Just a familiar face”

Maria asked if it was an ex boyfriend, Candy told her it was . She didn’t want to get into the actual details of their situation . Maria offered to take the blanket to him also . Candy thanked her because she didn’t have to do her that favor .

The flight was five hours in . Candace was off her A-game. Erik’s presence really threw a wrench in it. She dropped a drink on a passenger, she got a food order wrong , she even chipped her nail. Seeing how stressed out she was, the lead attendant advised her to take a quick break . She sat in the back and took a couple sips of cold water. Her hands were shaking . Fuck him for making me feel this way! She screamed out , but only in her head .

“Alert: B-2”

Unfortunately her break was cut short . Candy was the only person in the back who could answer the alert . She looked around for Maria, she was tending to a passenger .

“Do you think you can check on B-2, everyone is busy” the lead attendant called softly to her . She obeyed his order and dragged herself to the front of the plane . The lead had just asked her to take this break. “Fuck” she mouthed and approached his seat . She wasn’t smiling , nor did she say anything .

“How you been?” He asked , Erik had been purposely pressing the call button all flight . He finally reached Candy.

“I’ve been busy Erik, like right now” Candy’s voice cut at him with so much venom , it caught the attention of his seated neighbor .

“You mad at me or something?”

Candy let out a huge breath of frustration . She wanted to scream at him, and release all of the pain he had caused her. This situation wasn’t worth her job, she had worked too hard to get here .

“Do you need anything sir?”

“So I’m sir now?” Erik laughed , and how cute he looked when he laughed angered her . She kneeled down and leaned in close to him. Then spoke only for his ears to hear .

“Don’t press this fucking button anymore ”

“I ain’t mean t-“ he began to speak but Candy stopped him.

“Sir, do you need anything else ?“ Her friendly hand patted against his shoulder.

“Nah, Im good”

————

This wasn’t the first time Erik had seen her. He was in her city not long ago . For the first time since the last time they had spoken.

“Hope you didn’t scratch my shit” Erik has gotten to a point where he was rude with everyone. Especially when thoughts of Candy clouded his brain. He was speaking to the hotel valet .

The gentleman gave him keys to his rental car. Compliments of a night club, a midnight matte Ferrari 458. Erik was scheduled for an appearance that evening . It was moving past midnight and now was the perfect time to go. He and a few other socialites were getting paid for it .

The only thing . Being this close to Candy without seeing her bothered him. Next month would make it month seven since he indirectly broke things off. After he left her house and never spoke to her again.

It came to the point where he was passing her exit , he found it funny that he remembered it . Even only after visiting her once . He remembered everything about her . The way she laughed at everything, even if it wasn’t traditionally funny . How she smacked when she drank out of a cup . Even her hate and sustain for football.

“Because I don’t understand all the rules , it’s so stupid!”

She told him one night as they laid naked in a Las Vegas Hotel . They had sex all night , and in the morning Candy almost missed her flight from exhaustion.

He pulled his phone out and swerved through the lanes , Erik was tempted to call her ... but it would be no use . Especially after she sent those many unanswered texts to his phone .

You unfollowed me , what going on?

Erik , so after everything ... this is it ?

I don’t know what I expected from you .

Fuck you .

Erik had read those texts over and over throughout time, even the ones from the beginning. When they were happy . He couldn’t delete them yet.

Someone’s Horn honked as he sped to the exit and tapped into his mental memory to find her house . Erik knew she was home. He had checked her Instagram story earlier .

Erik parked his car directly across from her house. The lights were off and he didn’t see her car in the drive way either . He glanced at the clock .

It’s 12:46 am. Where the fuck was she at this late?

He wasn’t quite sure what to do , or why he was there. Walking to her door wasn’t an option, Candy made it clear through texts that she hated his very existence. Erik had avoided coming to her city for just this reason

It was 1:03 when her living room light came on. Erik was just about to leave . He spotted London through the thin white curtains. She came into view , in her robe and bonnet . Unknowingly Erik’s face turned at the sight of her. “Wheres my girl?” he said to himself . He tapped impatiently on the steering wheel.

London fiddled around the living room for a couple of moments then cut the lights off again. He gave himself another moment before he pulled off , just incase .

Still nothing .

Erik started his engine with the smack of his teeth and left .

“And what was you gon’ do if you seen her?” He downtalked himself as he sped back to the freeway . He put the club address in his navigation and set off to have a good time tonight . Erik would get drunk off the free bottles of liquor and have a cute girl come with him back to his hotel .

Only he didn’t . He spent his night disconnected from everything in V.I.P. Sulking in the corner. Thinking of how much he missed Candy and how much better he felt with her in his life .

______________

Candy was so happy when the plane landed and all the passengers exited the aircraft . She and the others did a cleaning sweep and de-planed . When Candy walked into the gate, she spotted Erik standing . She knew he was waiting for her . His back was turned and she had the option of not being spotted. She watched him for a second , still looking from behind at his wide back and commanding stance . She thought about a time in the past . Where she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head between his shoulder blades. He pushed her away screaming about how “...he didn’t do shit like that!”. Candy laughed to herself because later on he did the same thing to her . Only, she didn’t push him away. She never did .

Something told Erik to turn around , when he did he saw her . Candy was stuck , he was walking towards her now. She looked around , oddly enough it was just the two of them .

“Can you give me a second?” He finger tipped his hand around her arm so she wouldn’t get away .

“I’ve given you too many seconds “ Candy took her arm back and placed it at her side.

“All I need is one more”

He walked over to a near by seat and sat down. Erik slouched inwardly and spread his legs for comfort . Candy couldnt help but to find his dick . With a straight face she snuck a peak at his print through his pants . That thing was worth listening to , or listening to Erik. Right ?

She sat down directly across from him . “We don’t have much time, we have a shuttle taking us to our hotel “ Candy noted the time , the shuttle would be leaving in twenty six minutes.

“You good, I’ll have my people take you to your hotel”

“You can’t control this situation like you always do, I’m catching my shuttle “ Candy contested with unnecessary attitude , Erik felt it . He clinched his jaw, trying not to scare her away with what he really wanted to say . “And who are your people ?” Candy asked .

“My family, that’s why I’m here”

She had forgotten that he was from here, Erik told her that it had been a long time since he had visited . “What’s the occasion, a funeral or something?” Candy’s expression softened.

“No, nothing like that” he expressed as if he was saddened by something . Erik knew just how to play on Candy’s emotions. She couldn’t help but to get up and take the seat next to him .

“Why did you decide to come back ?” She asked again.

“As corny as it sounds, I’ve been doing some soul searching and it lead me back home “

Erik grazed his fingers along Candy’s hand . It was resting along the armrest , until she allowed Erik to hold it . His gentleness surprised her . In the past she had to show him how to be this way . He leaned his head into her vision, making sure she looked into his eyes.

“Soul searching ?” Candy repeated .

“I been thinking a lot about you “ he tightened his hold , it made her wince .

“After all this time” she glanced at a monitor near by and clocked the time. “I gotta go”

Candy attempted to lift from her seat but Erik pulled her back down. It wasn’t alarming, he was still being gentle .

“Think I can see you , while you’re here?” He asked . Candy hesitated and thought of an answer , that let him know that she would be here longer than overnight.

“I’m only here for three days and I have plans”

She stood up, he let her hand go as he stood with her . Erik let her know that he only needed a small moment of her time . She agreed to call him once she got things settled at her hotel .

“Me being on this plane , it has to serve a higher purpose. Things happen for a reason” Erik stressed , as if he was trying to further convince her to see him .

“I told you I would call you “ she read right into him as she gripped her carry on and began to walk away . She only had a few minutes to catch the shuttle.

“Don’t make me come find you !” He called out , grabbing the attention of strangers around him. He had no shame , because he would .

#whats going to happen #will there be smut #sorry its so short

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brattywriters-anonymous · 6 years ago

Text

A Rose In Harlem

OC x Erik Story

Based on Teyana Taylor’s VII & KTSE

@chaneajoyyy

Warnings: Implied smut! Language, Angst.

X: Show & Prove

The morning of the show

Syd woke up from what she felt was a dream. It had been the most sleep she’s gotten all week, a solid six hours. She checked her phone, 7:10 AM. She remembered tapping out and closing her eyes around 1:30 AM. What seemed to slip her mind was Sin being next to her. She jolted up at his beautiful naked frame. He was still sleeping, his hair fell every which way. She smiled to herself remembering his kisses sporadically falling across her collarbone and chest as their bodies moved in unison. She glazed her fingertips where his lips once were and smiled even harder. Her phone going off snapped her out of the daydream.

“Hello?” “Syeda! What time are you gonna head out for the show? The venue is gonna be available for us at seven.” “I’ll be there then, Ayana.” Yasin must’ve been a light sleeper because her loud whisper woke him up. He rose with a deep loud groan while he yawned, in which Yani heard loud and clear. “Gi--Girl! You got sum?! You and plumber bae got it in last night!?” “Shut up Yani! Shhhh!” “Nuh uh! Syeda Mariposa! I heard his fine ass! I know we been stressed out and shit too! And I know you bitch! You gave it up!” Yani gave Syd a round of applause, “I was beginning to wonder wtf was wrong with you. It’s almost been a year since you got them walls beat!” Syd brushed past Yasin with a smile and closed the bathroom door behind her, “It’s only been nine months. If you must know, nosey. Yes, I did. and He’s not just plumber bae anymore. He’s my bae.”

“Yaaaassss Syd! I’m proud of you! Making strides in fashion and in love! I’m inspired, I may stop playing and give your mystery neighbor a call.” “Girl, he’s in Berlin. He said he’ll be back next week though, if you forreal.” Yani sighed, “Yeah, I’m forreal, mami. It’s about time I finally settle down too, and he’s nice.. I guess. I can try him out, see what he’s about. Plus, him not always being around is a plus because you know how I likes my space!” Syd giggled at her friend, “Yeah, don’t I!” “Yeah, yeah! Bitch, you don’t gotta be so inclined to agree.” “Bitch you not gon act like we didn’t try living together before I moved in here and you didn’t throw me out!” Yani’s tone changed to a matter of fact-like as she replies, “I didn’t throw you out! I simply gave you options for new places to live.” Syd sucked her teeth, “Bitch, you threw me out.” “Whatever! Let’s agree to disagree on the matter! Besides, you may wanna get some good morning dick because we got a long day ahead of us! Get some for me too while you at it! A bitch is in the office and I haven’t had none since before the holidays.” Syd cringed, “Ew. Girl Bye!”

Erik woke up to a warm feeling below him, as his eyes blinked open a few times he realized what was going on. “Oh shit! Good morning.” Gina decided to wake up her interest with some morning head. Her head was slowly bobbing up and against this pelvis until his member got hard and long enough that it activated her gag reflex. “Relax that throat baby.” She moans at his request and eased her way back down to his pelvis again, collecting more spit down his shaft. She placed one hand on him, maneuvering it up and down as she slurped him up like a melting cone on a July sunset as his head flew back on the arm of Zig’s couch. He gripped her by her hair and pulled her face up to his, their lips played against one another as she sank onto him.

“Good morning.” She finally replied to his previous greeting before kissing him again.

The evening soon approached as Syd hopped in the Uber XL with all of her clothing, accessories, and materials in tow. Yani was already at 583 Park Avenue, waiting for her to arrive. She’d been recieving texts and calls from all of the models, some invited guests, Myles, and Yasin even though he’d just left her sights hours before she departed from her house.

“Hey baby. I know your nerves are on ten! Just breathe! You got this. I’ll see you once it’s done.

-Sin”

Syd clutched at her heart in joy at her new boyfriend’s support. The uber driver stopped as close to the service entrance as he could, “Alright, we are here Miss Syd. You need any help?” “Uhhh...yes please? Thank you!” Allen, the driver, unloaded Syd’s belongings and escorted them into the venue. Yani came outside to help him as Syd’s attention fell immediately on set design. The contractors put down the black glitter floors already and Iyo was setting up his laptop to the projector. She slipped backstage to find her MUAs hooking everyone up as she saw the last model finally arriving to set.

Gina waltzed in the show as if she was the hottest thing since Takis, strutting like she’s on the runway backstage, and she was twenty minutes late. Not only that, but she showed up needing a visit to a hair stylist and makeup. “Syd, hey girl. Listen, I’m sorry I had a long day. Me and E..” “I’m sorry but, this has to do with the show..how, exactly?” Gina giggled, saying in a boastful tone, “Me and E lost track of time, that’s why I’m late.” Syd gave her a glance over and stopped as she looked back up at her, “Hm, so that’s why you let him tag you up on the night of my fashion show too?” The right side of Gina’s neck was riddled with dark hickeys. Syd was really disgusted at the display that stood in front of her.

Gina just smiled, “I’m sorry, I’m sure GiGi can cover it up.” Syd muttered, tight lipped, “She wouldn’t have to cover shit if you could’ve remembered you had a job to do tonight and it’s all about image.” Gina rolled her eyes, “So do you want me to see if she can do it or not? Ya know, you’ve been giving me shit since you met me.. You got a thing with Erik I don’t know about? That your man that showed up last night don’t know about?” Syd had it, she stepped up on Gina really slow, looked her square in her eye as she stated, “What you do with your personal time with Erik or anyone else is of no concern to me. However, when you come into the most important night of my life, and possibly yours if you pull this off, looking freshly fucked less than two hours before showtime..that is my concern. So what I need you to do is firstly, get up with Nina and Xierra, see if they can work a miracle with what’s on your head. I’LL have a talk with GiGi and see if she can cover your shit up. And trust me, after this show, you’ll be out of my hair.”

Gina scowled, “Okay. If you say so..boss.” and with that, she disappeared. Syd hasn’t been so mad in so long. Professionally speaking, she was mad at Gina. Personally speaking, she was conflicted. Her and Erik hadn’t spoken in weeks, so she knew she really technically couldn’t be mad at him for getting with Gina. Hell, she got with Yasin. Yes, it was unexpected, but damn. She just wasn’t expecting for Erik to get back like that. Syd shook off those personal feelings and thoughts, she immediately began to dress her models that were finished with makeup. Syd dressed her models one by one as they came out.

Von, Sam, Johan, Levi, Jade, Deanna, Phoe(nix), Sevin, Nina, Essence, Xierra, Leon, Warren, Cass, Omir, Cayson, Nadia, Zaniya, Jorge, King, Tammi, Quanna, Lyric, and Gina.

Well, as Gina finally got up from Gigi performing makeup surgery to cover up her night before, Syd actually needed to cool herself down so Myles ended up dressing her. Gina was sizing him up as he was cascading the clothes on her, “Girl, I’d be barking up the wrong damn tree. This is strictly professional! Get the damn clothes on!”

Syd stepped out front where she caught a glance of Erik on the phone. She just leaned against the wall of the building, knowing it was facing East, she bowed her head and started her second prayer of the day. Her and Yasin did the first of the day together when they finally got out of bed. She hoped for a perfect, smooth show; for sound and production to go off without a hitch, and for her show to receive rave reviews. Her head rose and met Erik’s. “Wassup princess, you good?” The second thing Syd instantly took notice of was Erik’s matching hickeys on the left side of his neck. She hung her head back down, “Yeah. I’m good. Nervous that’s all.”

“You got this Syeda. Just breathe, relax. I think someone wants to congratulate you though..” She lifted her head and saw Ziggy with a huge bouquet of Sunflowers, Syeda’s favorite flower, and the hugest grin, “I heard my fly ass neighbor was gon kill her fashion show tonight!” Syd’s face lit up as she held on to Zig for dear life, “Greg! Ahhhhhhh! Thank you for coming! But how? I thought you were working?” He sighed, “Well, Tony wrapped early so I hopped on the first flight out. I couldn’t miss your big day if I didn’t have to!” Syd accepted her flowers, “My favorite!” “Only for you Miss Syd!” “Thank you so much Zig, I feel so much better! You can go ahead and grab a seat.

“Well, well! Looks like Someone beat me to the punch!” Syeda’s ears perked up at her man’s voice, she turned her attention to Yasin. He had on a black velvet two piece suit with a white button down, his hair in a high bun. Looking like he belonged on her runway tonight. Syd’s smile became impossibly wider, “Hey, you.” Yasin wrapped his arms around her and gave her multiple pecks on her lips. She momentarily forgot about the two men behind her. Erik loudly cleared his throat, stoically stalking them with a look of dislike, “Oh, my bad. I don’t think you two ever met, Yasin, this is Zigg, my neighbor. Zigg, this is my man Yasin.” “Ya man?” Erik questioned Syd in joking tone, Yasin replied, “Yeah, Erik, was it?” Erik stood opposite of Yasin, sizing him up, “Yup. That’s me.”

Yani was right on time, “Syd, I--” She quickly pieced together the scene she walked out to, “I need you inside. You need to get dressed and into makeup.” Syd grabbed Yasin’s hand as she instructed everyone to just grab a seat and the show would be starting in thirty minutes.

Syeda decided on her look for the night, her blazer dress was accompanied with her black turtle neck underneath and her boots. GiGi gave her a fire gold glitter eye shadow, snatched her face with a mean contour and golden highlighter, and set the look with the bold ombre burgundy to red lip. Syd decided to wear her hear in a slick curly ponytail with her signature two sideburn pieces, and of course, keeping true to where she came from, she bought a new set of heart shaped gold bamboo earrings with her entire name spelled out, matched with her necklace her father gave her. She stepped out of the green room to all of her models, Yani, and Myles. Everybody wooped for Syeda’s look for the night.

“Daaaaammmn Mami! You looking hot tonight! Muy Muy caliente!” “Gracias, Jorge!” She bowed to her homie and continued, “Ok everyone, this is it! It’s crunch time. Just to give you a little run down for the confirmed guest list; reps from Chanel, Yves Saint Laurent, Pink Pyramid, Hermes, plenty of my partners from undergrad have their own fashion lines, photographers looking for models, Ford Models, L.A. Models, and even more. Ya’ll dreams are right past that curtain. I need ya’ll personalities and confidence. Shine like the stars you are, Alright?” Everyone yelled, “Alright!” she continued, “Alright! To UPTXWN!”

The show was every single thing Syd prayed for. The models ATE. The crowd looked satisfied with the show. Byron snapped pictures of everyone walking up and down the runway, Syeda was a nervous wreck the entire show. Biting down on her nails holding on to her best friend’s hands for dear life when she wasn’t changing out her models with her. They finished all of the models final looks she stood behind Gina, as she was the last model to walk out before her. Gina sized her up and rolled her eyes, Syeda gave her a smug look as Yani caught it, she stated, “That bitch is dead to you after this, and if anyone in here asks about her to me, her ass is grass.” Syd just nodded. Every model walked onto the platform and a mic was handed to Yani as she announced her best friend, “And now, the creative behind the UPTXWN styling brand, Syeda Diaz!”

The entire crowd rose in applause as each side of the platform was filled with all twenty-four models, twenty-three of which were following suit in applause. Gina just painted on a fake smile for the spectators. Syeda did her walkthrough and waved each way down the runway. She caught glimpses of all of the faces she’s seen while making a name for herself in the high fashion world as well as the faces of old classmates and her boyfriend. Her face went blank when she saw a face she’d never thought she’d see ever again, her ex boyfriend. Marcellus.

🌹

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ofstarsandvibranium · 7 years ago

Text

Fashion Baby

Fandom: Star Wars (Model AU??)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: You’re going to walk in the Galaxy Fashion Show and you’re excited because your boyfriend, Poe, will be performing for it.

A/N: I was inspired after I watched videos of Bruno Mars performing at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show 2016. And y’all know that I thoroughly believe that Bruno Mars is Poe’s favorite singer.

Poe was hounded by paparazzi as he arrived to the venue where the fashion show was being held.

“Poe! Poe! Are you excited to perform for the show tonight?”

“How proud are you of Y/N for being able to walk in the fashion show?”

“Are you gonna be able to keep your eyes on Y/N while there’s other women around?”

That last question made Poe’s ears perk up. He stopped and turned to the reporter who asked that question, “Yes, I’m gonna be able to keep my eyes on Y/N because I love her and she’s a goddess. I’m proud of her no matter what she does and I’m very excited to see her on the runway while I perform.” Without another word, Poe turned on his heel and went through the backdoor to the venue.

His manager and friend, Temmin “Snap” Wexley patted him on the back, “You handled that well.”

Poe shook his head, his jaw clenched, “I hate when they say stuff like that. I’m a loyal boyfriend. I love Y/N. Why can’t people understand that? I’d never cheat on her.”

Snap rested his hands on Poe’s shoulders, “Hey, I know this. Y/N knows this. Relax. Don’t let it get to you.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“Poe!” Poe’s ear perked at the sound of your voice. He looked behind Snap to see you strutting towards them. Your hair and makeup done, but you wore a silk pink robe around you and gold heels.

Poe smiled as he met you half way, “Hey, baby. Lookin’ stunning as usual.” He kissed your cheek knowing you’d scold him if he messed up your lipstick.

You smiled, “Thank you, handsome.” you straightened the bow tie that he wore, “You prepared for tonight?”

“Not really.”

You looked at him confused, “Why? You were pumped at rehearsal yesterday.”

Poe gave you a sheepish grin, “Because I know once I see you out there I’m gonna get distracted and forget the lyrics.”

You rolled your eyes and swatted his chest, “You’re such a flirt.” You looked behind Poe to see Snap looking down at his phone, “Lighten up a bit, Snap!”

Snap’s head shot up and he gave you a smile, “Fight me, Y/N.”

“Gimme the time and place, Wexley.”

Poe chuckled, “Alright, get your beautiful butt back to work. I’ll see you in a couple of hours, ‘kay?”

You nodded and kissed his cheek, “Bye, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too, gorgeous!”

Poe and Snap then walked to Poe’s own dressing room. Snap kept his voice hushed, “So, you gonna ask her tonight?”

Poe shrugged, “Maybe. If I find the perfect moment.”

Snap nodded, “I have faith in you, Poe.”

The fashion show was in full swing already. You’ve walked up and down the runway several times now. Every once in a while, you’d hear Poe from the audience yell, “WOOHOO! THAT’S MY BABY! THAT’S MY BEAUTIFUL GIRLFRIEND!” and you couldn’t help but smile wide every time you were out there.

Now, it was time for Poe to perform. You sent him a good luck text before he appeared onstage to which he replied with a thanks and the kissy face emoji.

Poe was now onstage donning a gold suit with black lapels. The lights reflecting off his suit and making him shimmer. He held the mic to his mouth and yelled, “How you doin’ Galaxy Fashion Show?!” the huge audience broke out into cheers and screams. Poe smiled and then nodded to his band and the music started playing.

Hey, hey, hey I got a condo in Manhattan Baby girl, what's hatnin'? You and your ass invited So gon' and get to clappin' Go pop it for a player, pop-pop it for me Turn around and drop it for a player, drop-drop it for me I'll rent a beach house in Miami Wake up with no jammies (nope) Lobster tail for dinner Julio, serve that scampi You got it if you want it, got, got it if you want it Said you got it if you want it, take my wallet if you want it, now

Your friend and fellow model Rose came up next to you watching Poe on the screen backstage, “He looks amazing!” Poe walked up the runway as he sang, models walking around him and posing at the end of the strip.

“Y/N! You’re almost up!” You slipped off your zip-up hoodie and tossed it onto your chair. You raced into line behind your other friend and fellow model, Gwen Phasma.

Jump in the Cadillac (Girl, let's put some miles on it) Anything you want (Just to put a smile on you) You deserve it baby, you deserve it all And I'm gonna give it to you

You then started walking onto the runway. You fashioned a red lace dress that fanned down into a beige tulle skirt. You walked along to the music, your hips swaying left and right. You had a big smile on your face.

Poe turned around just in time to see you strutting towards him. He broke out into a huge grin. His eyes shined with so much love and pride. When you neared him, he took your hand and kissed it.

Cool jewelry shining so bright Strawberry champagne on ice Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like Sex by the fire at night Silk sheets and diamonds all white Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like

You continued to walk with him as he sang and you sang along with him. The audience and photographers were loving it. Poe let go of your hand so you could pose at the end of walkway. You gave the crowd a wink and then went strutting towards backstage. On your way, you blew Poe a kiss and he received it with a smile.

I'm talkin' trips to Puerto Rico Say the word and we go You can be my fleeka Girl, I'll be a fleeko, mamacita I will never make a promise that I can't keep I promise that your smile ain't gon' never leave Shopping sprees in Paris Everything twenty-four karats Take a look in that mirror (take a look) Now tell me who's the fairest Is it you? (is it you?) is it me? (is it me?) Say it's us (say it's us) and I'll agree, baby

For the rest of the song, you and the other models changed into your other outfits and walked back out. Poe always walked beside you as he sang. He would wink and send you kisses. All of which made you smile wide and blush.

Finally his song ended and you were the first one to walk onto stage for his next song. When you were walking onstage, he came up to you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

Ooh, don't we look good together? There's a reason why they watch all night long Yeah, know we'll turn heads forever So tonight I'm gonna show you off

When I'm walkin' with you I watch the whole room change Baby, that's what you do No, my baby, don't play Blame it on my confidence Oh, blame it on your measurements Shut that shit down on sight That's right

Poe joined you at the end of the runway. As you posed, so did he...terribly. He mocked every angle and pose you gave. You broke your facade and started laughing you ass off. Poe had to stop singing for a little bit because he started laughing too.

We out here drippin' in finesse It don't make no sense Out here drippin' in finesse You know it, you know it We out here drippin' in finesse It don't make no sense Out here drippin' in finesse You know it, you know it

Now slow it down for me baby 'Cause I love the way it feels when we grind Yeah, our connection's so magnetic on the floor Nothing can stop us tonight

Eventually, the song came to an end and you were done walking for the night. You collapsed with a comfortable sigh into your makeup chair.

“You did great out there, Y/N!” Rose exclaimed as she ran up to you and hugged you with delight.

“Thank you! So did you!”

“You and Poe were so cuuute! You’re all over instagram and snapchat! Look!” Rose tapped on several icons on snapchat and they all showed pictures and videos of you and Poe. Many of the captions were “SO. CUTE!” and “RELATIONSHIP GOALS!”

“We do look pretty cute,” you said with a smile.

“Hell yeah we do.” Poe said as he appeared by your side.

You jumped and held your hand to your chest, “Oh shit! Babe! Don’t do that!”

Poe giggled and kissed your cheek, “Sorry. Hiya, Rose.”

“Hey, Poe! Great performance!”

“Thanks! You guys looked so beautiful out there.”

“Not as beautiful as this one though,” Rose said with a teasing smirk.

You rolled your eyes, “Get outta here, Tico.”

Rose laughed, “Alright. See you at the after party!”

Poe moved so that he stood in front of you. He leaned forward and captured your lips, “You really were beautiful out there. Fucking gorgeous.”

“So were you, Poe. You did amazing out there.”

“Really? ‘Cause I was freaking out. I only felt better when you’d be up there with me.”

You giggled and smoothed down Poe’s hair, “You’re such a softie, Poe Dameron.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars #au #model au

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leightaylorwrites · 7 years ago

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Leigh Dissects YA Fiction: They All Fall Down (Chapters 9 - 12)

Chapter Nine

Levi certainly wasn’t grieving Olivia’s death…

Of course not. Why would he be grieving his ex-girlfriend? That would imply that he cares about anyone other than you and with this being a YA book, it’s unlikely that a romantic lead would be so complex.

[...] his open varsity jacket making his shoulders look even broader.

A specific sport isn’t named. Does the author think all varsity athletes get the same jacket? There are emblems, symbols, and other things that are specific to certain sports. This is what happens when you base your YA book on your own nerdy high school experiences and don’t do basic research: you get things wrong.

“Why is everyone so certain Levi Sterling is going to jail?” I demand.

You can’t demand a question that has to be answered by multiple people when you’re only with one person. Also, didn’t you, like recently, say he might’ve been a murderer or rapist?

I nod sympathetically, supposing that’s a legit enough connection for a guy like Josh to shed a few tears.

Because for a masculine boy to cry, it has to be legitimized.

Was he kidding? Girls like Olivia and the rest of them on that list didn’t hang out with nerds like me. But guys don’t always know that.

Okay, even if we’re going with the ridiculous idea that people don’t have friends in different circles, the same would be true for boys. Geeky boys and jocks wouldn’t hang out. Why wouldn’t he know this?

“I missed you last night,” he says right into my ear, with a secret, sexy voice that should have every cell in my body jumping up and down.

You’ve spoken for a total of three minutes.

“I had…” Movie night with mom. “Something else to do.”

Why can’t she just tell him the truth? I get it’s geeky but it’s not like you were committing a crime.

A flicker of distaste crosses his expression as he conciders what could possibly have been more important than his game, and his gaze shifts in the direction where Levi had been. “Out with your parolee?”

Dora doesn’t tell him the truth about her whereabouts as a way for the author to throw in cheap tension. If she had a legit reason or given an explanation (like how I said spending time with her mom is ~geeky~), then it would’ve worked. Without that, this is just lazy writing.

“Good thing, ‘cause they're saying he was there and was having a deep and heated conversation with Olivia before she died.”

Did this book have an editor?

“Good thing you weren’t with him.”

He’s said good thing twice in the past quarter page. Either the author discovered a new phrase while writing this chapter, or someone stans NCT.

“Listen, I know it’s not going to be really fun under the circumstances and all, but a bunch of kids are getting together at my house tonight. Will you come?”

Y’all really about to have a party when someone just died. I get the popular kids are supposed to somewhat suck but there’s sucking then there’s being horrible people.

“We’re changing clothes, you freakazoid!”

Outdated reference is outdated. Most of this author’s demographic does not know that song. Has she ever spoken with an actual teenager? In this century?

“His parents passed away many years ago.”

Please be related to the cult I’m probably totally wrong about.

“I never got into the house but I’ve heard it’s amazing, with an indoor swimming pool and a ten-car garage adjacent to some of the prettiest parts of Nacht Woods.”

Good Lord. First, it annoys me when characters who are loaded go to public school with a bunch of people who are nowhere near as rich. School zoning doesn’t work like that, with only one megarich kid and everyone else being middle class. Second, why are we getting this awkward splooge from Generic BFF’s mom instead of having this description when Dora gets to the party later????? Why is this writing so bad? Where is the editor?

“The grandfather, who’s retired, of course, made a killing on Wall Street, as I understand it.”

What is this SENTENCE?! I suck at grammar and sentence structure and all those technical things but damn, I know I could do a better job at this editor who works for an actual publishing house.

“Really hit it huge in the go-go eighties.”

“Where’d they go-go?” Kayla asks, making everyone laugh.

Not me.

“It’s the idiots who can’t handle the peer pressure. But, okay, you girls use common sense.”

Fucking hell. If they’re pressured into drinking then they’re not idiots. That’s why it’s called PRESSURE. And why are we acting like people with common sense don’t drink? They’re not mutually exclusive.

“(...) I’d love to just sit around that table for house with a family that is so whole and happy. But I only have myself to blame for that.”

Shut your melodramatic ass up.

Chapter Ten

God save me.

(..) what feels like a half-mile-long driveway (...) At least fifty cars are in the drive and along the street.

Driveway. It’s called a driveway. You just used it in the last sentence.

She’s cute - and has to be freezing - but, really, nothing extraordinary to look at.

What a fucking bitch. Honestly, Dora, please die.

“We’re going into the woods.”

Yes, now it’s the point in the book where a Native American burial ground is invaded by drunk suburban white teens who literally have no respect for the land. This includes our protagonist. And if you’re thinking she’s going to mention how wrong and disrespectful this is, bring your expectations of this author down. No, further. FURTHER. Yes, that low.

“We’re at Meesha mound.” She leans closer and lowers her voice. “Indian burial ground, you know. Cool, huh?”

“Very.”

To be fair, Dora says her “very” is sarcasm but like?? Nothing is done or said about how horrible it is that they’re doing this. Or even the improper and offensive usage of “Indian.”

She misses my sarcasm and takes me down a dark path.

Obviously bad metaphor is obviously bad.

“I like Sisters of the List,” Kylie Leff says, leaning into Amanda. “We’ve been blood sisters since kindergarten.”

Can I return this book and get cult lesbians instead? Side note, if you want to watch something about a cult lesbian, AHS: Cult was AMAZING and its best season since Coven.

She holds up a single knuckle and Amanda meets it with one of her own in the most feminine and lackluster knuckle tap in history.

We get it. Fem = bad, hot fem = bad, weak fem = bad.

Why was Dora expecting some epic knuckle punch when Kylie only used one knuckle? Does she think she has super-strength?

It’s Candace Yardley, number ten, who up to this point has been virtually silent. Once again, I take a second to admire her dark good looks; she is runway perfect.

Why is this book so racist?!! Having the Asian character be silent until Dora is ready to comment on her ~dark good looks~?? And she has to be at the bottom of the list? What IS THIS?!

She smiles at her best friend.

How many times must we be reminded that Kylie and Amanda are gal pals, heteros, and that this book has no room for lesbians? Petition to save Kylie and Amanda from this hetero dumpster fire.

I take the vodka bottle and let a few drops touch my lips, the flavor like bitter grape cough medicine.

One, you can’t taste much with your lips. Two, that’s not what vodka tastes like.

“You bitches cray.” She sings the last word on a laugh. “But I need to get fried.”

Let’s play “spot the Token black character.” I think the usage of the word cray is a testament to how old this book is. Back when white authors thought it was fun to use cringe aave. You gon finna catch me is SHAKING.

“Thank god that chapter is over” - me after every chapter.

Chapter Eleven

“YOLO, baby girl. Which translates into ‘have some fun.’

Petition to have white authors never write black characters again.

I can smell beer, and the sound of rap is barely drowned out by loud boys and girls laughing. Really? On the night after the girl they all planned to vote for class president next year has died? They either don’t care or… they don’t understand death.

You fucking asshole, Dora. Some people have different coping methods. And, how would you know they don’t care or understand death? Do you think you’re the only person in your whole school who has lost someone?

They don’t know how permanent death is. But I do.

Earlier, we learned that Generic Good Boy is a fucking orphan. He lost BOTH parents. You lost ONE brother. Shut up.

“Like I said… YOLO.”

Stop. I’m begging.

“You know what I remember about you in middle school?” (...) “You were hydrogen in our Dress Like an Element Day in science.”

Listen, I like the fact that Dora and GGB have natural chemistry as characters whereas Dora and GBB are forced like hell. But could the author not think of a more interesting element? Why would GGB remember this in particular? Even if he thought Dora was cute, it would make sense for the element to be something less common and therefore more easy for the reader to see why it was so memorable.

“You’re the Latin expert.”

She’s a junior in high school.

“(...) he lives to meet pretty girls.” The way he says it makes me feel like I really am one of those pretty girls.

Because he just told you his grandfather likes pretty girls? An old man? That makes you feel pretty? Really? That?

“Wait--I want to kill her, er, say hi.”

Ignoring this horrible attempt at humor, Dora is upset with her friend for drinking at a party. I’ll point you to Dora’s weird grape cough medicine vodka from her cult meeting in the woods.

“I play on two travel teams--hey, Ryan--and lots of these kids are from all over this side of the state.”

They came all the way out here for one party? Are there no parties in their own neighborhoods?

“Kenzie.” The older man nods in approval. “Of course.” Flashing an easy, wide smile, he looks down--way down--at me. Instantly, I can see where Josh gets his gifts--his height, the build, the sort of raw masculinity mixed with charm that rolls off him. That’s hereditary, I suppose.

I just threw up.

This man is at least sixty, given that his grandson is a high school junior. And Dora just spent a paragraph lowkey lusting after him. I haven’t witnessed something so grossly uncomfortable since Throne of Trash the series we don’t acknowledge.

“You were absolutely correct, Josh. She is a refreshing change.”

Get it? Because she’s not like those other girls.

“You’ve taught me everything, Josh says, a respectful note in his voice. “Including how to pick quality girls.”

Women aren’t avocados.

He pats my hand and shifts in his seat. “Let’s change the subject. I understand you’re on that list that does nothing but objectify lovely teenage girls.”

You can’t call out the list for objectifying them when 1) you’ve done that since you met Dora, 2) you act like a fucking pedophile while you’re touching her, and 3) you follow up the fact that the list is objectifying the girls by calling the girls “lovely.”

“But his legacy lives on, right back in Nacht Woods.” He angles his head toward the back of the house. “He’s buried there, too.”

So not only has this author disrespected Native Americans with using their burial ground for horror aesthetic reasons, but she’s also allowed a white character to be buried there.

“Not him, per se,(...) but the things that mattered to him. I made a place to honor him.”

I know we need exposition but it makes no sense here. They’ve spent half a page talking about this dead dude, rather than the scholarship Dora wants.

“How do I apply?”

“No application necessary, dear. You just have to finish the ropes course Jarvis built in Nacht Woods (...) You look fairly athletic.”

Oh my god. How many ways can this author metaphorically shit on this burial ground?

“Quit hittin’ on my chick, Rex.”

Dora’s next thought is her freaking out about Josh calling her his girl, which okay, I get. But… shouldn’t she be a tad bit concerned about this creepy pedo man who just offered her a scholarship as long as she completes The Hunger Games?

“She’s a total brainiac (...) I think that’s hot.”

“Quite,” his grandfather agrees.

I’M NOT MAKING THIS SHIT UP

Chapter Twelve

I haven’t had anything to drink since my one sip of grape vodka, but Molly’s borderline tipsy(.)

We’ve got clarification that her vodka was grape flavored (ew) but what the hell is “borderline tipsy”??? Either she’s tipsy or she’s sober. Tipsy is the full in between of sober and drunk.

“But the weirdest thing of all was the texts disappeared about ten minutes after I got it. I can’t find it in my deleted texts, nothing.”

SHE TRIED TO SEARCH DELETED TEXTS AND WAS SURPRISED WHEN SHE COULDN’T FIND ANYTHING ASHJLDFASHLJL

(...) ready for dark looks from my list sisters(...)

We’re really using this name?

But I won’t tell these girls that. They’re wack.

I love 2001 slang.

Also, you guys don’t know how hard it is for me to not make a Malibu’s Most Wanted reference right now.

Having to post all my notes/opinions means I’m having to read over some of the book again and if you can believe it, these are considered the good chapters compared to what comes later.

Using my irritation as free entertainment? Enjoy my writing as free entertainment, too. I’ve got a freebie book called Epic here.

#leigh reads it #leigh dissects ya #tafd review #long post #tafd

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worldslyrics · 4 years ago

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Go Stupid Lyrics-Polo G Lyrics, Polo G Sang this song Which is very beautiful and attractive song. Go Stupid Lyrics is released on 2020. Go Stupid Lyrics-Polo G Lyrics song is a great choice for you, If you want to be a singer then Sing this hot and lovely Go Stupid Lyrics which is sang by your favorite singer Polo G. Go Stupid Lyrics-Polo G Lyrics

Go Stupid Lyrics-Polo G Lyrics

Ayy Gang, gang, gang, gang (Mike Will Made it) Lil Capalot, bitch, ha Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up

{Polo G:} Hit the strip after school, couldn’t wait till I got outta class Used to stare at the clock and shit Before all this rap shit I was gang-bangin’ And doin’ high-speeds on the cops and shit And I’m straight from the Chi’ but I ball like a king up in Cali’ And shoot like Stojaković Keep applying’ that pressure, I go on the run It ain’t no lettin’ up, ain’t no stoppin’ it Had to tell my lil brother to chill, gotta stay in the house Come outside, he be poppin’ shit You ain’t heard about us? Well, you need to go watch the news Niggas know we be droppin’ shit Got the feds on my ass in the hood ’cause they think I’m the one Who been buyin’ them Glocks and shit I’m just focused on music, they say my last tape was a classic But I got some hotter shit I be rockin’ a show, or if I’m not up in the stu’ Then I’m fuckin’ this cash off Don’t you know Polo G, skinny-tall with the dreads That lil nigga be rappin’ his ass off Yeah, I heard he got surgery, still wanna climb from the back Just to see if her ass off Go like horrible rockets, we blast off Tried to throw us some bullets but we made ’em fumble Like no, you ain’t gettin’ that pass off Spin the block, now I’m takin’ my mask off Hit the gas like we racin’, speed off in them foreigns And leave tire marks on the asphalt It’s gon’ be RIP once your ass caught He like frontin’, we knockin’ his cap off ‘Nother day, a new chain on, mack boss All this ice got me freezin’ like Jack Frost

{Stunna 4 Vegas:} That boy a bitch, that’s his damn fault If you play, then you late, we could crash out When I up in his shit, man, it’s man down And be all like pullin’ them bands out DOA, bitch, I get your mans out A rockstar from the block, I stand out Came from nothin’, I flip my advance off When I hit the game with my flow, niggas ran off (No cap) Fuck it, I’m not your average Joe When I leave the house I tuck it I’m rich, I don’t shop on no budget He clutchin’, my lil youngin want him a bucket I hop on this bitch and run it If I said it, I seen it or done it These lil niggas never robbed nobody Ain’t caught no body And ain’t gettin’ no money (Cap) Where I’m from it’s sports or gunplay We looked up to the killers and dealers But even them niggas won’t make it out one day Didn’t fuck my first M, I’m bein’ here, hood fame Took off like I was on the runway I’m a star but still personal one way Then niggas talk but they won’t play We let them guns sing like the choir on Sunday

{NLE Choppa:} Yeah, yeah Hop on the scene and I’m thuggin’ Big Glock on my hip, so you know that I’m clutchin’ Catch me a opp, I’ma down him in public The police keep askin’, I’m changin’ the subject The way I grew up, man, a nigga was workin’ Why the fuck you got a gun you not gonna bust it? And I’m huntin’ success, I ain’t doin’ no ‘Tussin Trippin’ niggas who chase it like he David Ruffin I ain’t gon’ cap, I don’t even like rappin’ But I love wrappin’ them bodies and shit Fuck the bitch and when I get done I’ma up my Glock and then rob the bitch Catch a nigga when he clock out I’ma get him wacked at his job and shit And I don’t know why the police keep fuckin’ with me ‘Cause they ain’t stoppin’ shit, yeah Spin on your block like a remix Shoot him in the face, get his teeth lit Extended clip like a broomstick Shoot a flick like Netflix Scratch a opp off the check-list I just bought a gun off Craigslist Shooter, I really burn, I’m leavin’ a stain Only thing you see is red shit If the police behind, we kick dirt My gun need some drawers, it got nuts Whole gang we strapped, don’t test us ‘Cause if a nigga play he gonna get bust, yeah In the lead, I’m top shotta Don dada, got the bombs like I’m Gaza Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Go Stupid Lyrics-Polo G Lyrics

Artist: Polo G Released: 2020

#worldslyrics #lyrics #songlyrics #lyricssong #lyricswebsite

#IFTTT #WordPress

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wiltezzmusic · 5 years ago

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20k Winds - YYACO x Deltahedron by Deltahedron Lyrics below. Vocals @yyaco #SCFIRST LYRICS ___________________________________________________ 20k winds Better get a windbreaker Runnin on two rivers I woke on a wind waker and Again in a taxi Wit bravado in the backseat We aint rubbin elbows if you ashy Te ferri like selassie Best hurry to the runway Don’t worry what your mom say Just Chalk it up to child’s play Imma need an offiday Mind racin Body pacin Movement is the motive Explosive and out of focus Feelin like the locust On the map to magnum opus This is show biz! So shake that money maker We gon see you later earn your 40 acre 24/8 Been a LA laker baptized in this river Water kinda dirty Get the city fuckin witcha We throw hands But we gon smile for the picture Flash, then dipped n got whiplash Go figure Waitin on a volkswagen bus Mint paint job, white top is a must messiah aint the chauffeur The ayatollah sober Thought i told ya It ain't over Till i push the boulder Strut king tut Legacy don’t rust If i drop my grand tomb Ask him im from axum Survived my umbilical cord A miracle of sorts Possessed by possessions That I cannot afford Explains why i look suspicious in stores Same ones starin want me holdin the door Darkskin italian Flirtin like im fluent a sick mannequin Cuz I’m Still the illest student will settle for literary status 6 tracks 2 hat tricks Too good for your mattress Download for free on The Artist Union

#IFTTT #SoundCloud #Bass #Heavy #Dark #Alternative #Boom #Trap #Boomtrap #Summer #Winds #SCFIRST #Lyr

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raystart · 7 years ago

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Find Friction, Forget Logos, F*ck Buzzwords, Fight Assholes, and 42 Other Ways You’ll Do the Best Creative Work of Your Life This Year

It’s the end of 2017. That means, like many people, we’re taking a moment to look at the year in review.

Woof.

It was a whiplash-inducing kind of year. Before we burn some sage to cleanse the air for 2018, we’re rounding up what we’ve learned to help us better focus and answer the question: Where does the best work that we can make start? With ourselves? With our collaborators? With a martini or two?

We broke our learnings down into five parts: self-improvement, honing your craft, client relations, collaboration, and ‘big picture,’ which is a fancy way of saying everything we couldn’t fit neatly into another category. Onward!

Self-improvement

Self-comparisons and one-sided competitions are toxic. Ignore ‘em. “I have learned that comparison and competition are enemies of the artist,” says writer Mike Sager. “How did he get that assignment? How could she win that award? How many books did she sell? What’s his hourly rate? All that should matter is the piece of work that sits before you. There is you. There is your art. At the elemental level, nothing else matters.”

Safeguard your freedom to pursue happiness. Amos Kennedy Jr. quit his job as a systems analyst to become an letterpress printer, taking a major pay cut and sacrificing security to pursue his craft. “We have this model of working forever for somebody and then retiring and going off to play golf. And that’s the good life,” he says. “We aren’t taught to be independent and free… That freedom that we so long for is, basically, an ability to express ourselves and just be happy.”

If you’re going to strike out on your own, have a little cushion. When you take the leap, give yourself a timeline and some cash runway, or else you might wait forever. “I had six months’ worth of savings,” Ugandan photographer Sarah Waiswa says of ditching a corporate career and striking out on her own. “I told myself, ‘If I can’t create a sustainable career as a photographer in six months, I have my Masters to fall back on, and will get another job.’… It’s easy to wait for the perfect time to leave your job, but fear will kill your dreams.”

Don’t approach your next project with a pre-planned excuse. Researchers believe about 70% of us will experience a period of career self-doubt, a common workplace symptom known as Imposter Syndrome. This can lead to shame, anxiety, and giving yourself a ready-made excuse for when things go wrong. But new research shows how you can fight back against the self-doubt and rebuild your confidence.

If there’s a barrier to your calling, find a way around it. Photographer Diana Zeyneb Alhindawi covers unrest and turmoil in places like the Congo, South Sudan, Uganda, and Rwanda. She started out as a humanitarian aid worker in Congo, but when her colleagues were evacuated during a crisis and the photographers were allowed to stay, she embarked on a new photojournalism career. Now she stays in conflict zones long after everyone else has left the field, lending a different kind of hand to those in need.

Find the subject that will make you a student for life. “I was bad at everything in school,” Todd Hido admits. But once he discovered his interest in photography, Hido pulled a 180. “I wanted to go to school because that’s where the darkroom was and I found something that made me excited about being there,” he says. “Ever since, all I’ve ever done is photography… I’ll be a student of photography until the day I die.”

Don’t call Beyoncé. She’ll call you. Laolu Senbanjo wasn’t searching for Beyoncé when he left his human rights law career in Nigeria to open an art gallery. “[The gallery] was my safe haven where I could create magic with people who understood me,” says Senbanjo, who later moved to Brooklyn. Shortly thereafter, Beyoncé got wind of him, and Senbanjo answered a cold call from the singer’s reps to bring his Afromysterics design aesthetic to her album, Lemonade.

Get fluent in financials. “If a designer is able to translate something like a creative brief into a business brief, that gives you a huge leg up,” says Amazon Music’s digital design and UX lead Marisa Gallagher. “It’s a craft in that you’re learning how to speak with the right language.”

Be the person who sticks up for you. “I wish I knew not to be so hard on myself and not to beat myself up so much,” says Debbie Millman, host of the podcast Design Matters, reflecting on her 20s. “I wish I knew not to take everything so seriously in terms of my worth and my value. I wish I had spoken up more and stuck up for myself.”

Adopt the perspective of the age you feel, not the one you are. “I’m surprised to find myself with the chronological age of 77, when really I feel as if I’m still somewhere between the ages of 14 and 28,” says Sydney-based painter Ken Done. The key is “keeping your eyes open and trying as best as possible to get the most out of every day.”

You should have the right to disconnect. And you should use it. France has passed a bill that bans bosses from contacting employees past 5 p.m. and on weekends. The rest of the world can take a hint. France’s “right to disconnect” legislation is a recognition “that asking people to work crazy hours just isn’t helpful economically,” says Katrina Onstad, of The Weekend Effect: The Life–Changing Benefits of Taking Time Off and Challenging the Cult of Overwork. “We’re so tethered to our workplaces and our devices that that concept seems almost sacrilegious or a sign of weakness.”

Never give up, at least until you’re ready. “When you get booted out, look at that as the beginning to create something new,” says animator Floyd Norman, reflecting on when Disney forced him into retirement at age 65. But Norman wasn’t done yet. He returned to the Disney lot, found an open office space, and kept right on working on his own designs. “You’re in charge of your life, not the corporation… Always remember—it’s not over until you say it’s over.”

Be as big a fan of yourself as Kanye West is of Kanye West. When was the last time you Tweeted something like, “Hi Grammys, this is the most important living artist talking,” or “I’m not even gon (sic) lie to you. I love me so much right now”? If it’s been a while, take a page from Mr. Yeezy himself who reminds us he’s got our backs: “I am of service to the world with my art and I just want to serve more.”

Stay gold, Ponyboy. “Try a bunch of stuff,” says artist and author Adam J. Kurtz, “Be a little reckless, smoke weed one time, kiss someone nice, stop trying to be cool—it’s not working, it never works—and generally let yourself live.”

Honing your craft

Break with Tradition While Master Calligrapher Aoi Yamaguchi has respected the spiritual and aesthetic customs of her craft, she’s also branched out from the tradition to make it her own. “I do calligraphy in various formats to make a living from teaching, logo work for clients and businesses, and commissioned work for personal collections,” says Yamaguchi. She’s even turned her handwork into live performance.

Don’t do something well over and over. Do something new over and over. Ivan Chermayeff, the late graphic designer behind the familiar logos of Barneys, National Geographic, and NBC, stayed creatively active late in life. “People who want to retire want to do other things,” said Chermayeff. “Travel. Plant a garden. I don’t. I’ve been doing those things every day my whole life.” Just as in his craft, Chermayeff demanded novelty and new terrain from his golden years.

You don’t have to be a 9-to-5 person, but rhythm can help your creative flow. Australian hand-letterer Gemma O’Brien says she’s not a 9-to-5 person, but she is most productive when she sticks to a routine of working overnight (from 4 p.m. to 2 or 3 a.m.) With calls and emails at a minimum, she’s able to tap into a “distraction–free” zone. “I just feel like there is something about nighttime where I get in a less alert state, and that allows me to relax and do the work,” she says. “It’s deadly quiet, and from the attic I can see the moon. Sometimes, if I have a really hard deadline, I can also see the sun come up.”

Draw every damn day. Laura Seargeant Richardson, creative director at Argodesign dodged her mother’s suggestion to be a writer in favor of design research and strategy. But she still looks back with regret on not building a deeper habit of drawing. “While I have an eye for design, while I can creatively direct designers of all types,” she says, “I can never bring my ideas to visual life in a gratifying way. If I had to do it all over again, I would trust my instincts and draw every damn day.”

Plan you next road trip around inspiration. Is there more to vacations than planning where you’re going to eat? Well, yes. These artist studio museums aren’t a bad place to start.

Put revision ceilings in your contract. In one of her first client jobs, designer Kelsy Stromski lost thousands of dollars in billable hours struggling to interpret opaque feedback through untold rounds of revisions. “Now I show clients a few rough concepts early on (rather than perfecting dozens of options) and my contracts clearly note that each project includes two revisions, with additional rounds charged at an hourly rate,” she says.

Size doesn’t matter. Unless it does. Stefanie Weigler and David Heasty, the husband-wife team behind Triboro Design, focus on being selective rather than trying to get everything that is out there. As a result, the studio can dedicate itself to special projects like branding for Everlane and customizing a typeface for Vanity Fair’s “Best-Dressed List.” By staying small, Weigler says, “we have better control of the work and a lower overhead that allows us to not take on every project.”

Just do it. Cedric Kiefer, cofounder of Berlin-based studio onformative, believes you shouldn’t overthink decisions, big or small. “I used to think that a concept would be more valuable the longer I worked on it. After a while, you learn that the simplest idea is usually the best one.” Kiefer lives the impulsive mantra he preaches. He founded his studio without ever having met his cofounder in person and moved to Berlin. “I think if we had thought about it too long, we might have missed our chance,” he says.

Client relations

Does that buzzword mean what I think it means? #leverage “There is a big gap between our understanding of what ‘innovation’ is in a digital agency versus what clients imagine innovation is,” says Pauline Ploquin of Struck. “For them it’s the shiny object and virtual reality. Those are not a long-term strategy.” What is Ploquin excited about? “The next frontier is the mind of the consumer,” she says, “We are geeking out on neuroscience, rather than just virtual reality.”

Avoid “small” changes that create a ripple effect of additional work. Clients will always see the opportunities for a nip and a tuck in everything that comes their way. And who doesn’t want to make their client happy, right? But whether it’s a changed word in a mission statement, or a logo color shift, those small tweaks can have a resounding (and time-consuming) effect on all the already completed work in your project. The founder of the San Francisco firm Elefint suggests putting up workflows, shortening feedback loops, and making clear SOWs to stymie client’s small changes habits.

Ask Psych 101 questions. Graphic design icon Louise Fili is a client whisperer. She brings the same care and attention to client meetings that she brings to her logo designs. “Whenever any students ask me what I recommend that they do to become a designer: Take a Psych 101 class,” Fili says of preparing for dealing with clients. Often, her questions aren’t too different from those a therapist would ask. “They’re nervous. I talk them off the ledge, and then it’s usually fine.” Her favorite question to ask an antsy client? “What are you afraid of?”

Kill the deck. “We are doing much less documentation,” Michael Burkin of Doberman says of new ways to foster client collaboration. “Our brave and creative clients have much more interest in spending the time we have together to iterate rather than us create a bunch of decks that we present to them and then wait for feedback and waste a lot of time on.”

Make a five-year plan, a ten-year plan, and a hundred-year plan. Bill Makky runs a sculpture casting foundry in Brooklyn. His clients? Some of the biggest names in the art world today. And the art world of yesterday, too. Makky stores extra castings of bronze sculptures as an old-school form of insurance: an artist might not sell every edition of a sculpture in their lifetime, but their estate might sell one years after their death. Makky himself became an expert on intergenerational business planning, stewarding the bronze sculptures that his father and previous owners contracted decades before Makky took over the foundry.

Build up trust to last a lifetime. “Politics is about who you know,” says Pete Souza, on becoming the chief White House photographer to President Obama. “You can be the best photographer in the world, but if an up-and-coming senator is already connected to a competent photographer they like, chances are they’ll chose them if they decide to run for president… There are dozens of photographers in the country who are more skilled than me, but I believe I was the right person for the job because of the way I worked with President Obama.”

Know where your clients’ bonus comes from. Dave Snyder, Firstborn’s executive creative director, has helped brands like Pepsi, Mountain Dew, and Jet.com strategically reposition themselves. He says to earn clients’ trust, you must genuinely understand what’s driving them and it’s okay if it’s partly the cash. Learn where their bonus comes from. Then, he says, “you’ll have a better opportunity to position your ideas in a way that will earn them more money.”

For Pete’s sake, be on time. Erik Spiekermann, a German type designer and entrepreneur, who juggles multiple businesses, lives by the clock. “I’m always on time. And everybody who is not drives me crazy,” he confesses. “It’s rude and inefficient.” The Edenspiekermann founder learned this the hard way after constantly arriving five minutes late to meetings. One day he calculated the four-figure dollar value of this wasted time and says, “From that day on, I realized I could be five minutes early.”

Collaboration

To get to know a city’s design community, find peers at its indie bookstores. There really is no better way to connect with a new place than browsing the shelves of the city’s best bookstores, meeting fellow design and art bookworms. If you’re looking to explore in a new place, visit a design bookstore and you’ll find your community.

Work with people who make you laugh. Roz Chast is well known for her portfolio filled with decades-worth of New Yorker cartoons. But, the artist has a litany of collaborative projects as well. From children’s books with Steve Martin to illustrating for Patricia Marx, Chast says it’s important to share a sense of humor with those with whom you collaborate. Especially, if you’re trying to make your reader laugh. It makes for a more successful product, and it’s a heck of a lot more fun.

No silent disagreement. “Speak up” is one of the mandates at the design agency Big Spaceship. It’s a culture choice certainly; there’s nothing worse for workplace culture than unexpressed disagreement. But founder Michael Lebowitz says the commitment to open communication is just as much about giving space for new ideas as it is about office relationships. “I have a lot experience in what we do, but I don’t have the perspective of someone who has a 23-year-old’s interface with the culture right now,” says Lebowitz. “An intern’s view is as valuable as mine, just in a completely different way.”

The fight that’s worth it is the one for common ground. Ettore Sottsass, an 80-something Italian architect, was asked to build a Silicon Valley house for David Kelley, the 50-something American founder of the design firm IDEO. With different aesthetics, but a mutual admiration for each other, the two sparred and experimented until the final product managed “to express the vision of both architect and client.” The two learned habits of argument and negotiation that meant both could walk away feeling like a “winner” with their friendship intact.

Allies matter. Know who has your back. Photographers documenting combat zones or natural disasters may be vying for coveted print space. But, on the ground, it’s important to know who can let go of the competition. “When you’re in a war zone and you’re working with someone who’s competing with you, it just doesn’t feel safe — and it is already not safe,” says photojournalist Annabell Van den Berghe. “You have to be with somebody who has your back.”

Historically speaking, we’re at ‘peak asshole.’ Plan accordingly. To paraphrase Shakespeare, some people are born assholes, some people achieve being assholes, and some people have being an asshole thrust upon them. According to Robert Sutton, we have to watch out for that last one. He notes our workplaces come with all the trappings of “power imbalance, sleep deprivation, people who are overworked, overcrowded, and in a hurry.” Work to diffuse the effect of these powerful forces on yourself so that you don’t wake up to see that the office jerk is in the mirror looking back at you.

Never underestimate the power of the dinner table. While WeTransfer founder Nalden (yes, just one name) envisioned his company as a service to make virtually sharing files easier, he still believes that, “in the end, people make the difference, so you want to look them in the eyes, have a laugh or two, and collaborate and make decisions together. That’s why you need to have people on the ground.”

The bigger picture

Use your communication skills to empower social change. Designers and the creative industry have the skills to resist and organize, to inform and educate. During this global period of instability, designers must use their particular talents to strengthen grassroots causes and challenge exclusionary political ideas.

Design to match your medium. Francesco Franchi was one of the darlings of the Italian design magazine community. Then he took on a new challenge: newspaper. Now, as managing editor at la Repubblica, he’s knee-deep in news cycles and breaking headlines. One of the most important tenets that he brought over from the design world is an understanding that not every channel should try to do everything. Franchi’s strategy separates out the online newspaper from the print. “It’s about keeping breaking news as digital,” he says, “And then thinking about the paper as something more luxurious; something you can read on the weekend.”

Can’t change the technology of a product? Transform how people connect with it. Changing the formulaic makeup of condoms is an uphill battle against government regulation. So, Tiffany Gaines and Claire Courtney co-founded Lovability, a company that’s repackaging condoms in discreet breath mint-style tins in hopes of shifting consumers’ perceptions. “We’re able to do these minor things that actually do a lot of heavy lifting in the anxiety battle. It transforms anxiety into power,” says Gaines, adding, “It needs to be more like lipstick, something that makes you feel sexier and braver and bolder when you use it.”

Bone up on your health sector knowledge. “We are seeing a growing interest in design strategies applied to healthcare,” says Barry Katz, author of the Silicon Valley design history Make It New. “Biotech is now poised to make the same sort of move that software and electronics did toward the consumer markets.” Katz smells a whole new design space there. “That’s an enormous opportunity for design,” he says.

Discover your inner Benjamin Button Architect Daniel Libeskind didn’t create his first building until he was 52. “There is an immortality to being creative,” he says. “As your work continues, you become younger. You discover youthfulness—braver, bolder, more confident, more adventurous. You discover possibilities.”

Need help telling your story? Connect it to larger life themes. Start writing your story by finding universal pursuits and truths in your narrative (or your brand’s). Then, incorporate the one-of-a-kind details and experiences that bring your unique perspective to life. Norma Jeanne Maloney, for instance, is a Texas sign painter whose story of sacrifice for a creative passion is all too common, but whose Old West saloon-inspired lifestyle and cowboy hat sets her apart. Add action, conflict, your own style of voice, and leave readers with pearls of wisdom to apply to their own lives.

Forget the logo. Everyone else will too. “A logo is a clunky piece of communication, unable to adapt to changing environments,” says Martin Lorenz of Two Points. Lorenz points out that as communication becomes increasingly context-related, the static logo will be much less important compared to the ability to develop flexible visual systems that are responsive to their environment. Look got the future and direct your thinking toward the information channels built for flexibility.

Design = business strategy. “Design in the most classic sense is a potent business strategy,” says Firstborn executive creative director Dave Snyder. “That’s not to say it’s only about business efficiency. Everything needs a high level of craft,” he says. But ultimately, for Snyder, design is first and foremost a business choice, and a good one.

Design for friction. Yes, everyone loves an easy solution. And sure, who doesn’t love having access to takeout at 10 p.m. at the push of a button? But what if the very thing technology trumpets most proudly—convenience—is getting in the way of the most important interactions—the ones that present challenges, build character, and widen our world view? Airbnb experience design manager, Steve Selzer, says that a designer’s golden apple should be moments of friction, not convenience. And that the question designers should ask themselves is not, ‘What product…’ but ‘What future do I want to create?”

Additional reporting by Zoe Zellers and Steven Thomson

#startups #text #startup #advice #busieness #howto #news #tech #love

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aqlyrics-blog · 7 years ago

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She On My Dick Remix

New Post has been published on http://purelyrics.net/lyrics/rick-ross-she-on-my-dick-remix/

She On My Dick Remix

–Intro: Bruno Mali– Maybach Music Slide, hoe, watch this I’m drippin’ dressin’ on these hoes, nigga Get your bitch, nigga She gettin’ real friendly, nigga Talk to these niggas

–Verse 1: Meek Mill– Richest nigga in the city so she on my dick Shawty know she fuck me good and like she caught a lick My daughters took that for the feds, went and bought a brick Said welcome back, gave ’em some keys on some reporter shit, woah Whippin’ the white, we might just ran through a brick in the night Give ’em a price, Lord a number when he flip it twice Still in the trap, bitch on her back while I’m out for a bite I’m on some shit, these niggas ain’t lit, I give ’em a life, woah She on my dick, she on my dick Got that word, that pussy good now she on my list Rose Patek, look like duck sauce on my wrist Young nigga, Bentley trucks parked on my strip Standin’ on the corner like I’m King Kong And [?] stop with that .40, playin’ ding dong And back and forth, ain’t no rappers like ping pong She fuck Rozay, she on my dick, we sing the same song, woah

–Chorus: Rick Ross– She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She seen my moves, she on my dick (woo) The richest nigga, yeah, she on my dick (woo)

–Verse 2: Young Dolph– I used to torture, gave him back his life He got it wrong if he think I’ma fight him War cries on all on my lil’ homies homicidal 300 soldiers like I’m Leonidas I flips them yams and gave my man a Merci We pop them bottles every night like it’s our anniversary Hot in Dade County, they gon’ try to stretch him One APB and they’ll apply the pressure I know them hot boys, she say I’m the coolest That coolin’ kid’ll have that chopper coolin’ I took a 50k right to my jewler Even though a nigga got it, I be actin’ Jewish No Master P, they got me feelin’ foolish She hold my dick, I let my gangster bitch hold down my toolie Yeah, she got potential so I had to school her I text her papi, he send me my moolah

–Chorus: Rick Ross– She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick (woo)

–Verse 3: Bruno Mali– I tried to spread the bitch but she on my dick Told her jump up in this whip, come and drive a stick I might buy a purse, I might pay her rent She a all-star, first round draft pick She call me at the gas station pumpin’ gas I pulled up at the Chev, run up, drop off a couple bags Fish tailin’ off the lot with somebody’s thot When she met me, I was in a drop countin’ guap Said she fantasize ’bout a real trap nigga She on my dick so hard, she came before I put it in her Ha, young, rich, black, trap nigga With a fuckin’ 7 figures A huncho on my wrist Pull up in the whip with the shit and blow your bitch a kiss All of this ice on me make it hard for you to miss Every time you see me, look like I just hit a lick, woah

–Chorus: Rick Ross– She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick (woo)

–Verse 4: Rick Ross– Rims stackin’ on the rear, album of the year If I want to see her, well then here come the lear Clear the runway and double in [?] The baddest bitches only ones that come to see us Jewels every every day, I’m burnin’ loud (that’s me) On the top floor and I’m the biggest earnin’ now (that’s me) Shittin’ on these niggas, Tweet, see ’em in the streets I’m only talkin’ money so we rarely speak I got the bitch a buzz and she fell in love Now she climbin’ out the deck, fuckin’ with a thug Had my skully on when I fuck her in the tub Dirty money, buy Chevys, only one I love She love it how I’m livin’, such a wise decision In the history books, never in my feelin’s Pussy wet enough, I think I got her drippin’ Still on my lap, I could count a million

–Chorus: Rick Ross– She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) She on my dick, she on my dick (woo) Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick (woo)

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samanthasroberts · 7 years ago

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A Definitive Ranking of the Best Hair in the Star Wars Universe

With each new Star Wars movie, fans wait to see how their favorite characters, new and old, will be styled. And, with some of the most iconic and influential hairstyles in pop-culture history, the franchise has a high bar to clear when it comes to its characters tresses. Because as Yoda says, “Hairdo. Or do not hairdo. There is no try.”

But how do the buns, braids, blowouts, helmet hair, and headdresses in a galaxy far, far away rank when pitted against each other? We have your definitive, character-by-character guide to the best and worst looks from Naboo to Starkiller Base. Coif it up!

Note: We concerned ourselves with hair, and hair only. That means no heads that are shaped like hair (looking at you, Bib Fortuna).

Best Hair

Alamy

1. Leia Leia is a basic choice to top our list, but no hair in the history of film is as iconic as the stylethat spawned millions of parodies, Halloween costumes, ill-advised earmufffs, and people who think its hilarious to hold up cinnamon buns next to their faces. George Lucas has said that the revolutionaries of Pancho Villa were the inspiration for the buns, but others have pointed out that the look more closely resembles the Fallera hairdo from Spain or the Hopi “squash blossom” buns.

Regardless,Leia doesn’tget nearly enough credit for her other styles: Her Hoth crown braid, Bespin look with the braided loops, and her coiled twisted braid situation from the final scene of the original trilogy (dubbed “the hot plate special” by the crew). Props for being the only woman in history to make hair jewelry look cool when hanging out with a giant slug gangster and kudos to her chic, but no-fuss updo in The Force Awakens. Because when youre busy running the rebel uprising and chasing after your good-for-nothing, rogue-ass son, theres no damn time to mess with your hair. We salute you and your fabulous tresses, General Organa.

Alamy

2. Padme Yasss, Queen of Naboo! One of the only good things about the prequels is Padmes sense of fashion, ranging from her iconic wedding dress to her ombre, goddess-style flowing gown. But the real showstopper is her hairfrom gravity-defying updos and bejeweled headbands straight out of a Coachella fever-dream to headdresses that would even put Sarah Jessica Parker at the Met to shame.

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3. Kylo Ren Ah, the mane that inspired a whirlwind of tweets and such think pieces as Why Is Kylo Rens Hair So Shiny and Voluminous? An Investigation. With hisfollicularlyblessed lineage, it only makes sense that he never suffers from helmet hair, even after a long day of stomping around with stormtroopers, attacking villages, and interrogating rebels. The hair game is strong with this family.

His hair is, of course, a throwback to the longer hairdo sported by his role model and grandfather, Anakin, while Anakin was being lured to the Dark Side (well get to that soon). Like Samson, do the men in their family derive dark energy from their locks? And, if thats the case, why is Anakin-as-Vader bald? Maybe thats the real answer to why Ren’s hair is so big: Its full of secrets. Hair secrets.

Alamy

4. Rey Nicknamed “Three Knobs” on set, this updo looks cute from the front with early-aughts-inspired sidepieces and wispies. From the side or back, though, things get questionable. Why three buns? Whats so wrong with one? Rey doesn’t seem super concerned with fashion, so were left to believe that its a utility thing. Still, we’re game for this look because, well, they’rein space. Things are allowed to get a little weird.

Also, a million points for her goddamn eyebrows. Dont tell us that she hasnt gotten her hands on some wax while scavenging on Jakku because we will call you a liar.

lucasfilm

5. Dorme Only in Star Wars could a style this outrageous look fit into the background. Padme’s handmaiden rocks a kawaii-as-hell hair bow that puts even Girls’ Shoshanna to shame. “Hair bows” (as in bows styled with actual human hair, not cute cloth bows with a clip) are a very real, and wonderfully strange, thing. But we’re pretty sure its impossible to make one IRL with this much volume using only natural hair. Please, though, someone make a tutorial to prove us wrong.

Alamy

6. Poe Dameron Poe has some luscious, swept back locks that pair well with his clean-shaven face. Like Kylo Ren, he somehow manages to avoid helmet head. This is very excellent hair. It’s amazing he doesn’t have a line of people from across the galaxy lined up to run their fingers through it.

Alamy

7. Lando Calrissian Lando might bethe first majorblack character in the Star Wars universe, but we have to assess some minor demerits forrockinga perm. But well cut him some slack because if “hair” includes facial hair, he takes the cake with his groovy-ass ’70s mustache. This look transcended Billy Dee Williams role in Star Wars. Not only was it an essential component of his signature confidence and swagger, but we maintain that it’s the reason that Williams became the spokesperson for Colt 45 beer. Were you hiring him or the ‘stache, Colt? Be honest.

Jonathan Olley

8. Jyn Erso We call this look The Bridesmaid. Its nothing as revolutionary as Jyn herself in Rogue One, but its certainly very pretty and easy for fans to replicate with side bangs, face-framing pieces, and a little bun at the nape of her neck.

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9. Mon Mothma Caroline Blakiston once said she opted to use her own mid-length red pixie cut for her role as Mon Mothma, and were glad she did. This look, while later co-opted by Justin Bieber, became an essential ’80s style.

Alamy

10. Bodhi Rook This undercut/ponytail combination is very Burning Man. Its a little dirty, but also kind of sexy in a yoga-teacher way. Conclusion: He can rook our bodhis anytime.

Alamy

11. Finn Finn’s fashion is best defined by the on-trend Resistance fighter jacket gifted to him by Poe. His hair, thougha classic cut we call the Your Always Grumpy Unclehas never been on trend. Never ever. But Boyega fans can take heart: His hair as seen in the Pacific Rim 2 set photos is extra :fire emoji:.

Alamy

12. Han Solo Though Han is a total babe, his hair is a little fluffy and we cant stand a middle part. What else do you expect from a stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking Nerfherder? Still, he’s got a good head of hair and we can’t knock those retro sideburns. We also like his conservative, tapered cut in Force Awakensa solid look for an older Han.

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13. Luke Skywalker Baby Skywalker starts out with a retro ’70s feathered mop. A little dated now, but very “of his time.” When we meet back up with him in Force Awakens, he has transitioned to a scruffy hair/beard combo. Very old-school Jedi. Though, dear hipsters, the next time you think that this is a cute look, think of the fact that the make-up and hair folks working on the film thought this would be the best way to show that someone was literally cloistered away on a fucking island for decades.

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14. Sabe Her style makes for a crazy-couture, runway-ready look. Its not easy imitating the queen, especially when that means you have to wear giant hair croissants on the side of your head. (What is up with these people and hair that resembles pastries?) Kudos to her for rocking it.

Alamy

15. Chewbacca One of the few characters who is literally covered in hair from head to toe, his routine includes a complex combination of hair oil, holding spray, careful shampooing, a special hairbrush to comb out the snarls on his butt, and wand-created curls. Seriously.

Chewie is at his best when his locks are wind-swept and looks significantly creepy when his hair is brushed smooth. Whats with the volume? Is his forehead just super long or is he wearing a Bump It? We advocate for him getting a Border Terrier-style trim. Google it and you will agree.

Alamy

16. Anakin Skywalker This one is tricky. Anakin has, at points, both very good hair AND the definitive worst hair in the galaxy. Lets start with 20-something Anakin’s wind-blown surfer hair, a look thats later copped by his psycho grandson, Kylo Ren. Carefree! Classic! Two thumbs up! On the other hand, young Anakin has a freakin’ rat-tail. You say Padawan braid, we say rat-tail, and it doesnt matter because, when it comes down to it, we can all agree that its gross. We cant decide if he looks like he just walked out of a Hot Topic with bad rubber bracelets and a t-shirt from a band hes never actually heard or if hes a recent escapee from a hippie commune. Just: nope, nope, nope.

The “Really? You Could Do Better” List

Alamy

Obi-Wan Kenobi Specifically, young Kenobi played by Ewan McGregor. Rock me, Sexy Jesus?

Alamy

Qui-Gon Jinn The half-up, half-down look needs to crawl back to the ’90s and die there. In recent years, some millennial celebrities (ahem, Ariana Grande) have tried to make this a thing again. We maintain that encouraging anyone to wear this look is straight-up irresponsible.

Alamy

Ewoks They need a trip to the groomer. Maybe a nice puppy cut blowout like a Shih Tzu? We say yes.

Alamy

Yoda Real talk: Yoda needs to own his hair loss and go bald. If you want to feel truly creeped out, look up Yaddle, another member of Yodas species, and imagine how your favorite pint-sized, green Jedi might have looked in his younger days.

lucasfilm

Queen Jamillia Girl, you look like a sunflower.

Lucasfilm

Salacious Crumb Zero points to theweird dude who you might recognize from hanging out withJabba the Hutt. He could use a shoulder waxing and some kind of hat to cover those little tufts on his head.

The Wild Card

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Captain Phasma We have no idea what she looks like under the helmet. Will actress Gwendoline Christie keep her carefree, battle-ready, Brienne-of-Tarth messy chop? Or will she revert back to the real-life long blonde locks that she sported pre-Game of Thrones? Or maybe shes got something wacky going on under there that we havent even thought up yet. The options are literally endless.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/05/27/a-definitive-ranking-of-the-best-hair-in-the-star-wars-universe/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/05/27/a-definitive-ranking-of-the-best-hair-in-the-star-wars-universe/

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allofbeercom · 7 years ago

Text

A Definitive Ranking of the Best Hair in the Star Wars Universe

Note: We concerned ourselves with hair, and hair only. That means no heads that are shaped like hair (looking at you, Bib Fortuna).

Best Hair

Alamy

lucasfilm

Alamy

Also, a million points for her goddamn eyebrows. Dont tell us that she hasnt gotten her hands on some wax while scavenging on Jakku because we will call you a liar.

lucasfilm

Alamy

Jonathan Olley

lucasfilm

Alamy

10. Bodhi Rook This undercut/ponytail combination is very Burning Man. Its a little dirty, but also kind of sexy in a yoga-teacher way. Conclusion: He can rook our bodhis anytime.

Alamy

lucasfilm

Alamy

The “Really? You Could Do Better” List

Alamy

Obi-Wan Kenobi Specifically, young Kenobi played by Ewan McGregor. Rock me, Sexy Jesus?

Alamy

Ewoks They need a trip to the groomer. Maybe a nice puppy cut blowout like a Shih Tzu? We say yes.

Alamy

lucasfilm

Queen Jamillia Girl, you look like a sunflower.

Lucasfilm

Salacious Crumb Zero points to theweird dude who you might recognize from hanging out withJabba the Hutt. He could use a shoulder waxing and some kind of hat to cover those little tufts on his head.

The Wild Card

Alamy

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/05/27/a-definitive-ranking-of-the-best-hair-in-the-star-wars-universe/

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tune-collective · 8 years ago

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13 Times Rihanna Showed Off Her Rap Skills

When Kendrick Lamar shared the track list for his new album DAMN. earlier this week, fans and critics immediately started wondering about his collaboration with Rihanna (upstaged perhaps only by the sight of a then-puzzling U2 feature).

The Rihanna song, aptly titled “LOYALTY.,” sparked many memes, which referenced an “awkward” run-in between Rihanna and Lamar’s rumored rival Drake.

“Kendrick Lamar Ft Rihanna – ..LOYALTY” pic.twitter.com/h8imD2NQSX

— Rellington Beats (@TyRellington) April 11, 2017

Jokes aside, the rollout of the Compton emcee’s latest on Friday (April 14) definitely delivered on the hype, with Rihanna’s appearance being just part of the mass conversation about the project.

RiRi’s feature is another reminder that she possesses the ability to ebb and flow between rapping and singing, succeeding in bringing her Bad Gal persona to life every time. Her bars always come at her most braggadocious moments, sometimes carrying the flagrant fire of Lil’ Kim or Future. Inspired by her mentor and idol Jay Z, Rihanna has had an extensive history of rapping on her songs since Good Girl Gone Bad and subsequent acknowledgements as the Princess of Hip-Hop and R&B.

Here are 13 examples of her wearing that crown:

“Lemme Get That” (2007)

After releasing softer dancehall and pop with R&B uptempos and ballads on her first two studio albums, “Lemme Get That” became the first example of Rihanna spitting on wax like a true emcee. On Good Girl Gone Bad, the singer manages to drop bars about gold-digging (“I bought me a Benz, you buy me the yacht/ A girl need a lot, the girl need some stocks/ Bonds is what I got, bonds is what I got”). Backed by a snare-powered and trumpet-enhanced beat, the singer received help from hip-hop’s biggest pop playmakers — Timbaland, Jay Z and the song’s hypeman, The-Dream — to pen the lines. Their creation could have worked very well as an answer to Kanye West’s “Gold Digger.”

“Wait Your Turn” (2009)

Marketed as a promotional single for her darkest studio album to date, Rated R, the football alluding “Wait Your Turn” infuses Rihanna’s rapping with a dubstep instrumental. The singer opens her first verse boasting about her greatness (“there’s so much power in my name/ if you pop off and you say it/ stadium gon’ do the wave”), before making one of her most notorious claims: “I’m such a fucking lady.”

“Hard” (2009)

Backed by trap royalty Jeezy, Rihanna punches harder with Rated R‘s track successor to “Wait Your Turn.” With bars such as “never lying, truth-teller/ that Rihanna reign just won’t let up,” the singer earned an edgier street cred on radio. She blazes her second verse with a quadruplet rhyme scheme attacking her nemesis (“All up on it, know you want to clone it/ Ain’t like me, that chick too phony/ Ride this beat, beat, beat like a pony/ Meet me at the top, top, top, getting lonely”). Alongside Beyoncé’s “Diva,” this song became one of the premier examples of early trap&B ruling radio stations.

“Raining Men” (2010)

Rihanna has even dabbled in hip-pop with some help from the scene’s leading enforcer, Nicki Minaj. On the Weather Girls-inspired track from the cheery LP Loud, Rihanna and Minaj rap about their dime (perfect ten) appeal and men being disposable. The lead artist takes shots at men’s intelligence with the lines “All you need to know that I’m a 2 times 5/ load it, cock it, aim it baby, boom bye bye/ set your standards lower baby you’re aiming too high/ matter of fact your friend looks better, so goodbye.”

“Who’s That Chick” (2010)

The superstar has also brought rapping to her Euro-dancepop side. We can’t forget how Rihanna switches her flow in this David Guetta-produced electro club banger. Her flow goes from Ke$ha-style pop-rap to Cockney vernacular to American southern grit in a matter of seconds. Although the song was a moderate success on the Billboard Hot 100 (a peak of No. 51), Rihanna’s spitting about being an international magnet for attention helped the song reach the top 10 overseas.

“Cockiness (Love It)” (2011)

As one of the standouts on the sexually-charged Talk That Talk, “Cockiness” started a period where Rihanna as an occasional rapper started to become second nature for radio. The song’s overtly sexual rap-singing (“I want you to be my sex slave/ anything that I desire/ be one with my femin-ay/ set my whole body on fire”) and punny innuendos (“suck my cockiness, lick my persuasion”) — over a Greg Kinnear sampling beat — worked as one of the singer’s edgiest sounds to grace the airwaves.

“Birthday Cake (Remix)” (2012)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WimjkqmQy7U

Like most commercially successful rappers, Rihanna took a moment of personal chagrin and capitalized on the aftermath (and subsequent forgiveness) to offer a club banger. In the extended remix of Talk That Talk‘s little-over-a minute interlude, the singer enlisted the help of Chris Brown, much to the dismay of the general public. In the last minutes of the song, Brown starts off the third verse rapping about his share of having “cake.” Rihanna takes over with the bridge of a half-rapped, half-sung verse (many interpreted “sweeter than a rice cake, cake” as a dig at Brown’s then on-and-off again girlfriend Karrueche Tran) before dropping bars in a nursery rhyme-ish fourth verse.

“Phresh Out the Runway” (2012)

Rihanna opened her seventh studio album, Unapologetic, by getting trappy with the production and vocals. Later on, it would become a sight to see as the future fashion icon strut on Victoria’s Secret runway spitting the lines “How could you be so hood/ but you so fucking pop/ How could you be so fun/ and sound like you selling rocks.”

“Pour It Up” (2012)

It’d only make sense that Rihanna would rap over the answer song to Juicy J’s “Bandz a Make Her Dance.” In the feminine take of the strip club anthem, the entertainer gloats about receiving endless money and being self made. Similar to Unapologetic‘s other rap track, “Runway,” “Pour” also plays on trap Mafioso hip-hop vibes.

“Bitch Better Have My Money” (2015)

An interesting takeaway from Kendrick Lamar’s MAD. was the lyrical reference to Rihanna’s former, scamming accountant in “FEAR.” That same accountant would become the inspiration behind the gruesome, killer music video for “Bitch Better Have My Money,” where the singer refers to the individual as “the b—-” who owes her money. Looking back on all the drama, it’s safe to say that Rihanna put out her first proper diss record — albeit, the intended subject probably wouldn’t be able to spit back a competitive response to “shit, your wife in the backseat of my brand new foreign car/ don’t act like you forgot/ I call the shots, shots, shots.”

“Pose” (2016)

If Rihanna were a full time rapper, fashion would be one of her main topics alongside money. ANTI‘s grime and trap&B infused bonus track, “Pose,” hits upon both of those subjects as the singer finesses broken, staggered rapping into a party track that stunts on the haters.

“Nothing Is Promised” (2016)

The industry darling paired with the penmanship of Future and the production of Mike Will Made-It to generate a hit that warns about fame and love. Feeling herself (and her success), Rihanna channels her collaborators’ energies while she discusses balling out and “never put[ting] money above” a love interest.

“LOYALTY.” (2017)

In her most recent effort, the self-referencing “Bad gyal RiRi” trades between rapping and singing with Kendrick Lamar — harping in on DAMN.‘s motif of reversing. The songstress’ quick mention of “I’m a natural” attests to her rap skills and how far she’s come in the submersion of hip-hop and R&B as a supergenre. It’s fitting that the song interlopes Jay Z’s turn of the millennium Roc-A-Fella Records jaunt “Get Your Mind Right Mami,” as Rihanna has remained loyal to Jay Z since she was signed under him in 2005. “LOYALTY.” also works as a 2017 spin on one of her favorite rapper’s discography, 2Pac, as the song exhibits similar thematic content over an affected West Coast beat.

This article originally appeared on Billboard.

https://tunecollective.com/2017/04/19/13-times-rihanna-showed-off-rap-skills/

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krissysbookshelf · 8 years ago

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Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek of: The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas!

Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil by a police officer. Khalil was unarmed. Soon, his death is national news. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil’s name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr.

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ONE

I shouldn't have come to this party.

I'm not even sure I belong at this party. That's not on some bougie shit, either. There are just some places where it's not enough to be me. Either version of me. Big D's spring break party is one of those places.

I squeeze through sweaty bodies and follow Kenya, her curls bouncing past her shoulders. A haze lingers over the room, smelling like weed, and music rattles the floor. Some rapper calls out for everybody to Nae-Nae, followed by a bunch of "Heys" as people launch into their own versions. Kenya holds up her cup and dances her way through the crowd. Between the headache from the loud-ass music and the nausea from the weed odor, I'll be amazed if I cross the room without spilling my drink.

We break out the crowd. Big D's house is packed wall-to-wall. I've always heard that everybody and their momma comes to his spring break parties—well, everybody except me—but damn, I didn't know it would be this many people. Girls wear their hair colored, curled, laid, and slayed. Got me feeling basic as hell with my ponytail. Guys in their freshest kicks and sagging pants grind so close to girls they just about need condoms. My nana likes to say that spring brings love. Spring in Garden Heights doesn't always bring love, but it promises babies in the winter. I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of them are conceived the night of Big D's party. He always has it on the Friday of spring break because you need Saturday to recover and Sunday to repent.

"Stop following me and go dance, Starr," Kenya says. "People already say you think you all that."

"I didn't know so many mind readers lived in Garden Heights." Or that people know me as anything other than "Big Mav's daughter who works in the store." I sip my drink and spit it back out. I knew there would be more than Hawaiian Punch in it, but this is way stronger than I'm used to. They shouldn't even call it punch. Just straight-up liquor. I put it on the coffee table and say, "Folks kill me, thinking they know what I think."

"Hey, I'm just saying. You act like you don't know nobody'cause you go to that school."

I've been hearing that for six years, ever since my parents put me in Williamson Prep. "Whatever," I mumble.

"And it wouldn't kill you to not dress like . . ." She turns up her nose as she looks from my sneakers to my oversized hoodie. "That. Ain't that my brother's hoodie? "

Our brother's hoodie. Kenya and I share an older brother, Seven. But she and I aren't related. Her momma is Seven's momma, and my dad is Seven's dad. Crazy, I know. "Yeah, it's his."

"Figures. You know what else people saying too. Got folks thinking you're my girlfriend."

"Do I look like I care what people think?"

"No! And that's the problem!"

"Whatever." If I'd known following her to this party meant she'd be on some Extreme Makeover: Starr Edition mess, I would've stayed home and watched Fresh Prince reruns. My Jordans are comfortable, and damn, they're new. That's more than some people can say. The hoodie's way too big, but I like it that way. Plus, if I pull it over my nose, I can't smell the weed.

"Well, I ain't babysitting you all night, so you better do something," Kenya says, and scopes the room. Kenya could be a model, if I'm completely honest. She's got flawless dark-brown skin—I don't think she ever gets a pimple—slanted brown eyes, and long eyelashes that aren't store-bought. She's the perfect height for modeling too, but a little thicker than those toothpicks on the runway. She never wears the same outfit twice. Her daddy, King, makes sure of that.

Kenya is about the only person I hang out with in Garden Heights—it's hard to make friends when you go to a school that's forty-five minutes away and you're a latchkey kid who's only seen at her family's store. It's easy to hang out with Kenya because of our connection to Seven. She's messy as hell sometimes, though. Always fighting somebody and quick to say her daddy will whoop somebody's ass. Yeah, it's true, but I wish she'd stop picking fights so she can use her trump card. Hell, I could use mine too. Everybody knows you don't mess with my dad, Big Mav, and you definitely don't mess with his kids. Still, you don't see me going around starting shit.

Like at Big D's party, Kenya is giving Denasia Allen some serious stank-eye. I don't remember much about Denasia, but I remember that she and Kenya haven't liked each other since fourth grade. Tonight, Denasia's dancing with some guy halfway across the room and paying no attention to Kenya. But no matter where we move, Kenya spots Denasia and glares at her. And the thing about the stank-eye is at some point you feel it on you, inviting you to kick some ass or have your ass kicked.

"Ooh! I can't stand her," Kenya seethes. "The other day, we were in line in the cafeteria, right? And she behind me, talking out the side of her neck. She didn't use my name, but I know she was talking 'bout me, saying I tried to get with DeVante."

"For real? " I say what I'm supposed to.

"Uh-huh. I don't want him."

"I know." Honestly? I don't know who DeVante is. "So what did you do? "

"What you think I did? I turned around and asked if she had a problem with me. Ol' trick, gon' say, 'I wasn't even talking about you,' knowing she was! You're so lucky you go to that white-people school and don't have to deal with hoes like that."

Ain't this some shit? Not even five minutes ago, I was stuck-up because I go to Williamson. Now I'm lucky? "Trust me, my school has hoes too. Hoedom is universal."

"Watch, we gon' handle her tonight." Kenya's stank-eye reaches its highest level of stank. Denasia feels its sting and looks right at Kenya. "Uh-huh," Kenya confirms, like Denasia hears her. "Watch."

"Hold up. We? That's why you begged me to come to this party? So you can have a tag team partner? "

She has the nerve to look offended. "It ain't like you had nothing else to do! Or anybody else to hang out with. I'm doing your ass a favor."

"Really, Kenya? You do know I have friends, right? "

She rolls her eyes. Hard. Only the whites are visible for a few seconds. "Them li'l bougie girls from your school don't count."

"They're not bougie, and they do count." I think. Maya and I are cool. Not sure what's up with me and Hailey lately. "And honestly? If pulling me into a fight is your way of helping my social life, I'm good. Goddamn, it's always some drama with you."

"Please, Starr? " She stretches the please extra long. Too long. "This what I'm thinking. We wait until she get away from DeVante, right? And then we . . ."

My phone vibrates against my thigh, and I glance at the screen. Since I've ignored his calls, Chris texts me instead.

Can we talk?

I didn't mean for it to go like that.

Of course he didn't. He meant for it to go a whole different way yesterday, which is the problem. I slip the phone in my pocket. I'm not sure what I wanna say, but I'd rather deal with him later.

"Kenya!" somebody shouts.

This big, light-skinned girl with bone-straight hair moves through the crowd toward us. A tall boy with a black-and-blond Fro-hawk follows her. They both give Kenya hugs and talk about how cute she looks. I'm not even here.

"Why you ain't tell me you was coming? " the girl says, and sticks her thumb in her mouth. She's got an overbite from doing that too. "You could've rode with us."

"Nah, girl. I had to go get Starr," Kenya says. "We walked here together."

That's when they notice me, standing not even half a foot from Kenya.

The guy squints as he gives me a quick once-over. He frowns for a hot second, but I notice it. "Ain't you Big Mav's daughter who work in the store?"

See? People act like that's the name on my birth certificate. "Yeah, that's me."

"Ohhh!" the girl says. "I knew you looked familiar. We were in third grade together. Ms. Bridges's class. I sat behind you."

"Oh." I know this is the moment I'm supposed to remember her, but I don't. I guess Kenya was right—I really don't know anybody. Their faces are familiar, but you don't get names and life stories when you're bagging folks' groceries.

I can lie though. "Yeah, I remember you."

"Girl, quit lying," the guy says. "You know you don't know her ass."

"'Why you always lying? '" Kenya and the girl sing together. The guy joins in, and they all bust out laughing.

"Bianca and Chance, be nice," Kenya says. "This Starr's first party. Her folks don't let her go nowhere."

I cut her a side-eye. "I go to parties, Kenya."

"Have y'all seen her at any parties 'round here? " Kenya asks them.

"Nope!"

"Point made. And before you say it, li'l lame white-kid suburb parties don't count."

Chance and Bianca snicker. Damn, I wish this hoodie could swallow me up somehow.

"I bet they be doing Molly and shit, don't they? " Chance asks me. "White kids love popping pills."

"And listening to Taylor Swift," Bianca adds, talking around her thumb.

Okay, that's somewhat true, but I'm not telling them that. "Nah, actually their parties are pretty dope," I say. "One time, this boy had J. Cole perform at his birthday party."

"Damn. For real? " Chance asks. "Shiiit. Bitch, next time invite me. I'll party with them white kids."

"Anyway," Kenya says loudly. "We were talking 'bout running up on Denasia. Bitch over there dancing with DeVante."

"Ol' trick," Bianca says. "You know she been running her mouth 'bout you, right? I was in Mr. Donald's class last week when Aaliyah told me—"

Chance rolls his eyes. "Ugh! Mr. Donald."

"You just mad he threw you out," Kenya says.

"Hell yes!"

"Anyway, Aaliyah told me—" Bianca begins.

I get lost again as classmates and teachers that I don't know are discussed. I can't say anything. Doesn't matter though. I'm invisible.

I feel like that a lot around here.

In the middle of them complaining about Denasia and their teachers, Kenya says something about getting another drink, and the three of them walk off without me.

Suddenly I'm Eve in the Garden after she ate the fruit—it's like I realize I'm naked. I'm by myself at a party I'm not even supposed to be at, where I barely know anybody. And the person I do know just left me hanging.

Kenya begged me to come to this party for weeks. I knew I'd be uncomfortable as hell, but every time I told Kenya no she said I act like I'm "too good for a Garden party." I got tired of hearing that shit and decided to prove her wrong. Problem is it would've taken Black Jesus to convince my parents to let me come. Now Black Jesus will have to save me if they find out I'm here.

People glance over at me with that "who is this chick, standing against the wall by herself like an idiot? " look. I slip my hands into my pockets. As long as I play it cool and keep to myself, I should be fine. The ironic thing is though, at Williamson I don't have to "play it cool"—I'm cool by default because I'm one of the only black kids there. I have to earn coolness in Garden Heights, and that's more difficult than buying retro Jordans on release day.

Funny how it works with white kids though. It's dope to be black until it's hard to be black.

"Starr!" a familiar voice says.

The sea of people parts for him like he's a brown-skinned Moses. Guys give him daps, and girls crane their necks to look at him. He smiles at me, and his dimples ruin any G persona he has.

Khalil is fine, no other way of putting it. And I used to take baths with him. Not like that, but way back in the day when we would giggle because he had a wee-wee and I had what his grandma called a wee-ha. I swear it wasn't perverted though.

He hugs me, smelling like soap and baby powder. "What's up, girl? Ain't seen you in a minute." He lets me go. "You don't text nobody, nothing. Where you been? "

"School and the basketball team keep me busy," I say. "But I'm always at the store. You're the one nobody sees anymore."

His dimples disappear. He wipes his nose like he always does before a lie. "I been busy."

Obviously. The brand-new Jordans, the crisp white tee, the diamonds in his ears. When you grow up in Garden Heights, you know what "busy" really means.

Fuck. I wish he wasn't that kinda busy though. I don't know if I wanna tear up or smack him.

But the way Khalil looks at me with those hazel eyes makes it hard to be upset. I feel like I'm ten again, standing in the basement of Christ Temple Church, having my first kiss with him at Vacation Bible School. Suddenly I remember I'm in a hoodie, looking a straight-up mess . . . and that I actually have a boyfriend. I might not be answering Chris's calls or texts right now, but he's still mine and I wanna keep it that way.

"How's your grandma? " I ask. "And Cameron? "

"They a'ight. Grandma's sick though." Khalil sips from his cup. "Doctors say she got cancer or whatever."

"Damn. Sorry, K."

"Yeah, she taking chemo. She only worried 'bout getting a wig though." He gives a weak laugh that doesn't show his dimples. "She'll be a'ight."

It's a prayer more than a prophecy. "Is your momma helping with Cameron? "

"Good ol' Starr. Always looking for the best in people. You know she ain't helping."

"Hey, it was just a question. She came in the store the other day. She looks better."

"For now," says Khalil. "She claim she trying to get clean, but it's the usual. She'll go clean a few weeks, decide she wants one more hit, then be back at it. But like I said, I'm good, Cameron's good, Grandma's good." He shrugs. "That's all that matters."

"Yeah," I say, but I remember the nights I spent with Khalil on his porch, waiting for his momma to come home. Whether he likes it or not, she matters to him too.

The music changes, and Drake raps from the speakers. I nod to the beat and rap along under my breath. Everybody on the dance floor yells out the "started from the bottom, now we're here" part. Some days, we are at the bottom in Garden Heights, but we still share the feeling that damn, it could be worse.

Khalil is watching me. A smile tries to form on his lips, but he shakes his head. "Can't believe you still love whiny-ass Drake."

I gape at him. "Leave my husband alone!"

"Your corny husband. 'Baby, you my everything, you all I ever wanted,'" Khalil sings in a whiny voice. I push him with my shoulder, and he laughs, his drink splashing over the sides of the cup. "You know that's what he sounds like!"

I flip him off. He puckers his lips and makes a kissing sound. All these months apart, and we've fallen back into normal like it's nothing.

Khalil grabs a napkin from the coffee table and wipes drink off his Jordans—the Three Retros. They came out a few years ago, but I swear those things are so fresh. They cost about three hundred dollars, and that's if you find somebody on eBay who goes easy. Chris did. I got mine for a steal at one-fifty, but I wear kid sizes. Thanks to my small feet, Chris and I can match our sneakers. Yes, we're that couple. Shit, we're fly though. If he can stop doing stupid stuff, we'll really be good.

"I like the kicks," I tell Khalil.

"Thanks." He scrubs the shoes with his napkin. I cringe. With each hard rub, the shoes cry for my help. No lie, every time a sneaker is cleaned improperly, a kitten dies.

"Khalil," I say, one second away from snatching that napkin. "Either wipe gently back and forth or dab. Don't scrub. For real."

He looks up at me, smirking. "Okay, Ms. Sneakerhead." And thank Black Jesus, he dabs. "Since you made me spill my drink on them, I oughta make you clean them."

"It'll cost you sixty dollars."

"Sixty? " he shouts, straightening up.

"Hell, yeah. And it would be eighty if they had icy soles." Clear bottoms are a bitch to clean. "Cleaning kits aren't cheap. Besides, you're obviously making big money if you can buy those."

Khalil sips his drink like I didn't say anything, mutters, "Damn, this shit strong," and sets the cup on the coffee table. "Ay, tell your pops I need to holla at him soon. Some stuff going down that I need to talk to him 'bout."

"What kinda stuff?"

"Grown folks business."

"Yeah, 'cause you're so grown."

"Five months, two weeks, and three days older than you." He winks. "I ain't forgot."

A commotion stirs in the middle of the dance floor. Voices argue louder than the music. Cuss words fly left and right.

My first thought? Kenya walked up on Denasia like she promised. But the voices are deeper than theirs.

Pop! A shot rings out. I duck.

Pop! A second shot. The crowd stampedes toward the door, which leads to more cussing and fighting since it's impossible for everybody to get out at once.

Khalil grabs my hand. "C'mon."

There are way too many people and way too much curly hair for me to catch a glimpse of Kenya. "But Kenya—"

"Forget her, let's go!"

He pulls me through the crowd, shoving people out our way and stepping on shoes. That alone could get us some bullets. I look for Kenya among the panicked faces, but still no sign of her. I don't try to see who got shot or who did it. You can't snitch if you don't know anything.

Cars speed away outside, and people run into the night in any direction where shots aren't firing off. Khalil leads me to a Chevy Impala parked under a dim streetlight. He pushes me in through the driver's side, and I climb into the passenger seat. We screech off, leaving chaos in the rearview mirror.

"Always some shit," he mumbles. "Can't have a party without somebody getting shot."

He sounds like my parents. That's exactly why they don't let me "go nowhere," as Kenya puts it. At least not around Garden Heights.

I send Kenya a text, hoping she's all right. Doubt those bullets were meant for her, but bullets go where they wanna go.

Kenya texts back kinda quick.

I'm fine.

I see that bitch tho. Bout to handle her ass.

Where u at?

Is this chick for real? We just ran for our lives, and she's ready to fight? I don't even answer that dumb shit.

Khalil's Impala is nice. Not all flashy like some guys' cars. I didn't see any rims before I got in, and the front seat has cracks in the leather. But the interior is a tacky lime green, so it's been customized at some point.

I pick at a crack in the seat. "Who you think got shot? "

Khalil gets his hairbrush out the compartment on the door.

"Probably a King Lord," he says, brushing the sides of his fade.

"Some Garden Disciples came in when I got there. Something was bound to pop off."

I nod. Garden Heights has been a battlefield for the past two months over some stupid territory wars. I was born a "queen"'cause Daddy used to be a King Lord. But when he left the game, my street royalty status ended. But even if I'd grown up in it, I wouldn't understand fighting over streets nobody owns.

Khalil drops the brush in the door and cranks up his stereo, blasting an old rap song Daddy has played a million times. I frown. "Why you always listening to that old stuff?"

"Man, get outta here! Tupac was the truth."

"Yeah, twenty years ago."

"Nah, even now. Like, check this." He points at me, which means he's about to go into one of his Khalil philosophical moments. "'Pac said Thug Life stood for 'The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody.'"

I raise my eyebrows. "What?"

"Listen! The Hate U—the letter U—Give Little Infants Fucks Everybody. T-H-U-G L-I-F-E. Meaning what society give us as youth, it bites them in the ass when we wild out. Get it? "

"Damn. Yeah."

"See? Told you he was relevant." He nods to the beat and raps along. But now I'm wondering what he's doing to "fuck everybody." As much as I think I know, I hope I'm wrong. I need to hear it from him.

"So why have you really been busy? " I ask. "A few months ago Daddy said you quit the store. I haven't seen you since."

He scoots closer to the steering wheel. "Where you want me to take you, your house or the store?"

"Khalil—"

"Your house or the store?"

"If you're selling that stuff—"

"Mind your business, Starr! Don't worry 'bout me. I'm doing what I gotta do."

"Bullshit. You know my dad would help you out."

He wipes his nose before his lie. "I don't need help from nobody, okay? And that li'l minimum-wage job your pops gave me didn't make nothing happen. I got tired of choosing between lights and food."

"I thought your grandma was working."

"She was. When she got sick, them clowns at the hospital claimed they'd work with her. Two months later, she wasn't pulling her load on the job, 'cause when you're going through chemo, you can't pull big-ass garbage bins around. They fired her." He shakes his head. "Funny, huh? The hospital fired her 'cause she was sick."

It's silent in the Impala except for Tupac asking who do you believe in? I don't know.

My phone vibrates again, probably either Chris asking for forgiveness or Kenya asking for backup against Denasia. Instead, my big brother's all-caps texts appear on the screen. I don't know why he does that. He probably thinks it intimidates me. Really, it annoys the hell out of me.

WHERE R U?

U AND KENYA BETTER NOT BE @ THAT PARTY.

I HEARD SOMEBODY GOT SHOT.

The only thing worse than protective parents is protective older brothers. Even Black Jesus can't save me from Seven.

Khalil glances over at me. "Seven, huh?"

"How'd you know? "

"'Cause you always look like you wanna punch something when he talks to you. Remember that time at your birthday party when he kept telling you what to wish for? "

"And I popped him in his mouth."

"Then Natasha got mad at you for telling her 'boyfriend' to shut up," Khalil says, laughing.

I roll my eyes. "She got on my nerves with her crush on Seven. Half the time, I thought she came over just to see him."

"Nah, it was because you had the Harry Potter movies. What we used to call ourselves? The Hood Trio. Tighter than—"

"The inside of Voldemort's nose. We were so silly for that."

"I know, right?" he says.

We laugh, but something's missing from it. Someone's missing from it. Natasha.

Khalil looks at the road. "Crazy it's been six years, you know?"

A whoop-whoop sound startles us, and blue lights flash in the rearview mirror.

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