#Birthday B.S.

[lifewithaview]

The Upshaws (2021) Birthday B.S.

S1E1

When two of his kids have birthday parties on the same day, Bennie scrambles to find a venue for one, and has to bounce back and forth between events.

[emjayewrites]

Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton) (14.1/15) - Part I

SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?

INSPO: this post

PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @a-moment-captured, @boujiestpoet, @avngrsfangirl, @cocobutterqwueen @yeea-nah @alika-4466 @scorpiobleue @certifiedlesbianbaddie @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @saturnville @weetjy @lewlewlemon44 @cranberryjulce @chaoticcoffeequeen @periodjosh @melanin-queen369 @niahxo @purplelewlew @f1-football-fiend @imjustheretomanifest @gg-trini @kinggbl @iamryani @mitruscity @nichmeddar @xoscar03 @eugene-emt-roe @cherry2stems @louvrepool @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @lewisroscoelove

A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. This chapter is a bit shorter for the plot. The headers/dividers are by @inklore

CHAPTER 14.1: Silverstone Baby

Monaco's summer heat made Rorie's growing bump feel even more pronounced as they entered Dr. Dubois's office. At sixteen weeks, her petite frame couldn't hide the pregnancy much longer - oversized shirts and blouses had become her wardrobe staple.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind since The Sun's public apology and retraction. Social media had exploded with support after the karting charity race in Austria. "This is what journalism should focus on!" one viral tweet read, accompanied by photos of the junior racers in their miniature suits. "Lewis Hamilton's son has his racing lines DOWN" another proclaimed, with side-by-side comparisons of father and son's driving styles.

The racing community had rallied around them, the paddock's usual politics temporarily forgotten in the face of watching their children race. Even the typically cynical F1 journalists had nothing but praise for the event, particularly after learning the cancelled practice session had been Stefano Domenicali's idea.

"Getting winded already?" Lewis asked softly as Rorie paused in the lobby of Dr. Dubois's office, Dr. Chen's trusted colleague in Monaco.

"Your child's pressing on everything," Rorie replied, adjusting her flowing top. "Between this and keeping up with our son..."

Lyric, ever curious, explored the waiting room with enthusiasm. "Mama sick again?"

"No, baby. Just tired." She settled into a chair, grateful for the air conditioning. "The Sun's apology bought us some time, but people will start noticing soon. That video of me at the karting race had some comments already."

Lewis nodded, pulling Lyric onto his lap. "Post-Silverstone party will be perfect timing. Everyone together for your birthday and Lyric's..."

"And Baby LH squared's debut," Rorie finished, rubbing her bump. "At least Dr. Chen's referral worked out - I wasn't looking forward to flying back to Los Angeles every few weeks."

Dr. Dubois welcomed them warmly. "Ah, the Hamiltons! Angela's told me so much about you. And who's this young man?"

"I'm Lyric!" he announced proudly. "I race now!"

"Oh yes, I saw the videos," Dr. Dubois smiled. "Second place - very impressive! Would you like to help me today? We're going to look at pictures of your baby brother or sister. Sarah and Angela mentioned you're about sixteen weeks now?"

"Yes," Rorie confirmed as she settled onto the exam table. "Angela said you've worked together for years?"

"Since our residency," Dr. Dubois smiled, preparing the ultrasound. "She called me personally about your case. Now, let's see this little one."

The ultrasound screen flickered to life, and Dr. Dubois began the examination. Lyric pressed closer to Lewis, fascinated by the images.

"There we are..." She pointed to the screen. "Look, Lyric - the baby's sucking its thumb!"

"Baby tiny," Lyric observed, his nose almost touching the monitor.

"Not so tiny anymore," Dr. Dubois smiled. "About the size of an avocado now. Let's see if we can determine the sex..." She pressed the wand against Rorie's belly, but the baby seemed determined to maintain its privacy. "Stubborn little one. Let me try something Angela taught me..." Her hands gently pressed around Rorie's bump, encouraging the baby to shift position. "Ah, there we go! Congratulations - you're having a girl!"

Lewis's face split into a triumphant grin. "I knew it!" He bent to kiss Rorie's belly, then her lips. "Told you, love."

"Finally a girl dad, eh?" Dr. Dubois chuckled.

Lewis couldn't contain his happiness. "Lyric, you're going to have a sister!"

Lyric considered this news carefully. "Like L’waura?"

"Yes, like Laura," Rorie laughed, thinking of how the two had become even more inseparable since the karting race. "Would you like that?"

"Name her L’waura?" Lyric asked hopefully.

"We'll add it to the list," Lewis promised, catching Rorie's amused look. They both knew Laura would remain just Lyric's friend rather than his sister's name.

Dr. Dubois printed several ultrasound photos, including one of their daughter still sucking her thumb. "She's perfect," she assured them. "Strong heartbeat, good size - though Mama might feel a bit cramped soon with such a tiny frame."

"Already do," Rorie admitted, accepting Lewis's help to sit up. "Worth it though."

As they left the office, Lyric holding tight to the ultrasound picture of his sister, Rorie leaned into Lewis's side. "A girl," she whispered.

"A girl," he repeated, voice full of wonder. "Think she'll let us sleep more than this one did?"

"Hamilton genes?" Rorie laughed. "Not a chance."

"I believe you owe me dinner. I won our bet," Lewis grinned.

"You're insufferable when you're right," Rorie groaned good-naturedly.

"Ice cream?" Lyric piped up hopefully.

Lewis scooped him up. "Of course - we're celebrating your sister after all."

The Silverstone fanzone vibrated with energy as Lewis stepped onto the stage. The British crowd's roar was deafening as he climbed the steps alongside George Russell, both Mercedes drivers grinning at their home fans. Flags waved in the sea of people - Union Jacks mixed with Mercedes silver and Lewis's purple personal flag.

"Lewis, George - what an incredible turnout!" The interviewer shouted over the crowd. "Your home race always brings out the fans, but this feels special today."

"It really does," George agreed, waving to a group from King's Lynn. "Nothing like racing at home."

"Lewis, we see quite the family gathering here for you?"

"Yeah, got everyone here today," Lewis beamed. "My mum, dad, stepmum Linda, my sisters Nicola and Sam, my brother Nicolas, all the nieces and nephews. And of course, my wife and Lyric."

The crowd erupted at the mention of his son's name, many holding up signs referencing his karting race performance.

"Like Father, Like Son!" read one sign.

"Lyric Hamilton 2040 WDC!" proclaimed another.

"Speaking of Lyric," the interviewer jumped in, "that was quite the showing in Austria. Any thoughts on Mercedes 2040 - Hamilton and Wolff junior lineup?"

Lewis chuckled at the interviewer's suggestion about Lyric's future F1 career, shaking his head. "He's not even two yet!" His smile was warm but firm. "If he wants to race when he's older, I'll support him completely. But no pressure - he needs to find his own path, his own passions. The karting race was for charity and fun. Let him be a kid first."

The crowd's appreciation for his answer was evident in their cheers. George nodded in agreement. "Though I have to say," he added with a grin, "his racing lines were pretty impressive for a toddler."

"Takes after his dad," the interviewer laughed. "Speaking of racing today, both of you qualified strongly. Lewis, P2 - your best qualifying this season. How are you feeling about the race?"

"I feel good. I'm ready."

The pre-race preparation felt different today. Maybe it was having his entire family present, or maybe it was something more - a feeling in the air.

The formation lap. Grid position. Five red lights.

Lights out.

Lewis got a perfect start, challenging Max into Turn 1. The Red Bull defended, but Lewis stayed close, waiting. The Mercedes had shown strong race pace all weekend.

Lap after lap, he maintained the pressure. The pit stops came and went, the gap remaining constant. Then, on lap 48, a chance - Max went slightly wide at Copse.

Lewis pounced, taking the inside line. This time, unlike 2021, there was no contact. Clean, precise, perfect. The crowd roared as he took the lead.

"Great move, Lewis," Bono's voice crackled over the radio. "Twelve laps to go, let's bring this home."

Those final laps felt eternal. Each corner, each straight stretched impossibly long. But the checkered flag finally flew, and Lewis Hamilton crossed the line first at Silverstone once again.

"YES!" His victory radio message was pure emotion. "Thank you everyone! We're back!"

The cooldown lap was a blur of waving to the crowds, his heart pounding with joy. In parc fermé, his father reached him first, wrapping him in a tight embrace. His mother was next, tears streaming down her face.

Then Rorie, beautiful and radiant. He hugged her carefully, wanting nothing more than to acknowledge their daughter too, but knowing they had to wait just a little longer. Lyric bounced in his uncle Nicolas's arms, cheering "Dada win! Dada win!"

The podium celebration was electric, the British crowd singing "God Save the King" at full volume. Lewis pointed to the sky, then to his family below. Nine hundred and forty-five days made this moment even sweeter.

Later, on the fanzone stage again, trophy in hand and surrounded by his family, Lewis felt complete. The Mercedes crew joined them, Toto pulling him into a bear hug.

"Worth the wait," Toto said simply.

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely," Lewis replied, catching Rorie's eye. He made his way to his wife once more, pulling her into a passionate kiss that caused everyone to hoot and holler, even Roscoe had something to say and let out a few howls.

When they finally broke apart, both cheesing so hard like Cheshire cats, Lewis leaned close to her ear to say: "I’m going to tear your ass up later, Mrs. Hamilton. Might fuck ‘round and have twins."

And with that, he gave her his usual panty-melting smirk and a wink for added effect while Rorie just shook her head in mock annoyance.

Leave it to her husband for always thinking about sex. Even after winning his first Grand Prix after 945 days.

"Down, boy."

"Never."

______________________________________________

The London summer evening painted their garden in warm golden light as Rorie surveyed the preparations she'd been directing since dawn. Fairy lights twinkled between oak trees, their subtle glow ready for when dusk would settle. White linen-covered tables dotted the lawn, decorated with fresh peonies and hydrangeas - her favorites mixed with the bright colors Lyric had insisted on.

"The bounce house goes there," she directed, pointing to a clear space near the children's area. "Lyric will riot if he doesn't have somewhere to burn energy with Jack and the others."

Lewis appeared behind her, hands settling on her shoulders. "You should rest. You've been at this since five AM."

"Can't rest. Your mother's coming, and you know she notices everything."

"Pretty sure she already suspects," Lewis chuckled. "You've been wearing my shirts for weeks."

The first guests arrived precisely at four - the Magnussens, always punctual, with their children immediately making a beeline for the bounce house. Louise hugged Rorie carefully, a knowing look in her eyes. "You're glowing," she whispered.

Susie and Jack Wolff weren't far behind, Jack proudly clutching his recent karting trophy. "Look what I won!" he announced to anyone within earshot.

"Good job, Jack!" Rorie praised, though her eyes were on Susie, who was studying Rorie with growing suspicion.

Miles and Spinz had commandeered the music setup, their friendly bickering carrying across the garden.

"Mate, you cannot play that at a kid's party," Miles protested.

"It's a clean version!"

"It's still about–"

"Boys," KiKi interrupted, hugging Rorie. "Let's keep it family-friendly. Need any help, Ror?"

"Just keep me from losing my mind," Rorie laughed.

Timothy wandered the garden, camera in hand, capturing candid moments: Anthony telling racing stories to an enraptured audience, Carmen and Marian deep in grandmother mode and comparing notes about their existing grandchildren, and Lyric leading a pack of children to chase Roscoe, who seemed delighted by the attention.

"He's such a little menace," Hailey observed from her seat, one hand resting on her own visible pregnancy.

Justin nodded, watching the children play. "He's going to run the playground."

Rorie's sister Aaliyah arrived with an armful of presents, her eyes narrowing at how Rorie's oxford shirt draped. "Something's different about you…"

"Help me with the cupcakes?" Rorie deflected, leading her sister toward the kitchen.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the garden, Lewis stood and tapped his glass with a spoon. The chatter gradually quieted.

"Thank you all for coming to celebrate Rorie and Lyric's birthdays," he began, his voice warm with emotion. "The past few years have blessed us beyond measure. But…" he paused, eyes finding Rorie's, "we have one more surprise."

Rorie stood beside him, fingers working at her oxford shirt buttons. As the fabric fell open around her sixteen-week bump, Marian's screech pierced the evening air.

"Thank you Jesus!" She rushed to embrace her daughter, tears flowing freely. "My baby's having another baby!"

The garden erupted in celebration. Carmen and Anthony enveloped Lewis in a tight hug while Linda wiped tears from her eyes. Nicolas kept repeating, "I knew it! I knew something was different!"

When the initial excitement began to settle, Rorie cleared her throat. On cue, waiters appeared with cupcakes decorated with either "2" or "31".

"On three," she announced, eyes sparkling, "everyone take a bite."

"One…" Lewis began, arm around her waist. "Two…" Rorie continued, hand on her bump. "Three!" Lyric shouted, chocolate already smeared on his chin.

Pink filling revealed itself as everyone bit down.

"It's a girl!" the Hamilton family announced together.

Miles dissolved into tears, surprising no one. "You lot are too good at this, bruv. First the karting race, now this…"

"Our kids are going to be best friends," Hailey laughed, embracing Rorie.

"Another girl for the gang," Louise grinned. "Laura will be thrilled."

Under the fairy lights, surrounded by family and friends, their precious secret was finally, joyfully out. Lyric tugged on Lewis's shirt, pointing to his mother's bump. "Sister in there," he announced proudly. "I help teach racing."

Lewis scooped him up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Yes, you will, big man. Yes, you will."

The Hungarian paddock settled under overcast skies, a stark contrast to the warmth that had flooded Lewis's social media since their announcement. Rorie's photos, captured by Huy in New York, had taken over Instagram - stunning shots of her in a flowing black designer dress, the Manhattan skyline creating a dramatic backdrop. Her elegant silhouette highlighted the gentle curve of her bump, the high-fashion aesthetic pure Rorie. Huy's caption had been beautifully cryptic: "Baby LH-squared coming soon… 💙💗"

The fashion blogs that would normally be dissecting his new Dior ambassadorship and upcoming African-inspired ski resort collection were instead filled with screenshots of the announcement. "Lewis Hamilton: Seven-Time World Champion, Fashion Designer, and Soon-to-be Double Dad!" read one headline.

Social media was ablaze with speculation: "The way she's styled that bump! 😍" "Team boy! Lyric needs a brother!" "Nah, it's definitely a girl - look at how she's carrying" "First the Silverstone win, now this - what a summer for the Hamiltons!" "Anyone else notice the blue tights she’s wearing? 👀 #TeamBoy!"

"Any hints about what it is?" The questions and congratulations came from every direction as Lewis made his way through the paddock. Team principals, mechanics, catering staff - everyone had theories. His phone hadn't stopped buzzing since Rorie's post went live, the Dior announcement almost completely overshadowed by impending parenthood.

"Another little champion!" Fred Vasseur called out and enveloped him in a quick hug. "Do you guys know what the baby is?"

"I can’t tell you, Fred. Sorry," laughed Lewis as Fred pouted like a child.

"I won’t tell anyone. Not even my wife."

"Sorry, no can do. Rorie’ll kill me." And with that, he pantomimed his lips shut and continued on his way as Fred muttered a few grumbled curses in French.

The Mercedes garage buzzed with extra energy. Toto had already ordered two tiny race suits - one pink, one blue, and conspiratorially push the pink one closer to him. "We'll save the other for next time," he'd joked with a wink.

Charles Leclerc then stopped by the Mercedes garage. "Another racing Hamilton," he grinned. "Boy or girl?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Lewis replied smoothly, though keeping their secret made him want to burst.

"The Dior collection's looking amazing," Naomi Campbell had texted him a bit later. "But more importantly - any hints about baby? You know I need to start shopping! 👶🏽"

As qualifying approached, the congratulations and questions continued. Even the Sky Sports crew led with baby speculation before asking about track conditions.

The overcast sky threatened rain as Lewis prepared for qualifying, but his mood remained bright. Between Silverstone's victory, the pregnancy announcement, and yes, the Dior partnership, everything felt aligned.

His PR team had already fielded calls from every major outlet, all wanting exclusive details about the pregnancy. They'd stuck to their plan - minimal information, maximum privacy. After everything with The Sun, they were taking no chances.

"Focus time," Bono reminded him as he climbed into the car.

But even as he centered himself for qualifying, Lewis couldn't help but smile. Fashion collections could wait. Championships would come and go. Right now, his growing family was the only headline that mattered - even if everyone else was still guessing what color to buy.

The clouds grew heavier as qualifying approached. Weather radar suggested rain might hold off until Q2, but nothing was certain. Just like all the gender predictions flooding social media.

"Ready?" Bono asked, appearing with his race notes.

Lewis nodded, feeling centered despite the buzz around him. The Mercedes felt good under him during practice. Maybe today would bring another celebration to add to their summer of joy. Either way, as he prepared to head out for Q1, Lewis felt complete. His career was soaring, his fashion dreams were becoming reality, and most importantly, his family was growing.

The season still had plenty of racing ahead, the Dior collection would launch in due time, but right now, sitting in his car and listening to the familiar pre-qualifying radio checks, Lewis was simply a man looking forward to the future - all while keeping the sweetest secret tucked safely away.

"Track is clear," Bono's voice came through the radio. "Let's make this one count."

Lewis pulled out of the garage, ready to give the crowd something else to talk about besides baby predictions. Though he had to admit - watching the world try to guess what they already knew made every lap just a little bit sweeter.

_______________________________________________

Aaron lounged in one of the deck chairs on his brother's sprawling South Carolina property, watching Azariah tend to the grill. The smell of barbecue filled the warm evening air, punctuated by the distant sounds of Azariah's kids playing in the yard.

"You were wrong for that," Azariah said suddenly, not looking up from the grill. "What you said to Rorie in Barcelona."

Aaron scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. "Man, why you still on that?"

"Because you were out of line." Azariah's voice was firm but calm, the same tone he'd used to keep Aaron in check since they were kids. "And you know it."

"Whatever," Aaron muttered.

Azariah finally turned to face his younger brother. "You're mad at Dad. I get it. We all are. But Rorie? She didn't ask for any of this."

"She got the good life though, didn't she?" Aaron's voice was bitter. "Living it up with her Formula 1 champion husband while we—"

"While we what?" Azariah cut in. "Got private school education? Trust funds? Come on, man. You sound stupid right now."

Aaron fell silent, his jaw working as he stared out at the perfectly manicured lawn.

"You know what I see when I look at Rorie?" Azariah continued, flipping a burger. "I see a woman who grew up without her father. The only difference is she had no idea who he was."

"She knew," Aaron argued weakly.

"A name," Azariah corrected. "She had a name. That's it. No Christmas presents, no graduation appearances, no father-daughter dances. Nothing."

Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"So check yourself," Azariah concluded. "Your beef is with Dad. Don't put that on her."

As the sun set over the property, Aaron sat with his brother's words simmering in his mind. Azariah's wife, Michelle, came out with a plate of cornbread, their two daughters trailing behind her.

"Uncle Aaron!" the girls called out, but Aaron barely heard them, lost in his thoughts.

"Earth to Aaron," Azariah said, waving a spatula. "Food's ready."

Aaron didn’t move, his mind drifting to Rorie. News of her second pregnancy had hit him harder than he wanted to admit. He thought of Azariah's recent comment about how his daughters were excited to meet their cousin Lyric and the new baby. Azariah had even brought it up earlier that day, casually suggesting that Aaron should smooth things over.

Aaron had dismissed it at the time, but now the words weighed on him.

"I need to talk to Dad," Aaron said suddenly, standing up.

Azariah paused, studying his younger brother. "About?"

"About all of it. About her." Aaron’s voice was tight with emotion. "About why he gets to play happy family now when he—" He broke off, shaking his head.

"Aaron—" Azariah started, concern etched in his face.

"Nah, man. I hear you about Rorie, alright? Maybe you’re right. But Dad? He doesn’t get to just..." Aaron’s fists clenched at his sides. "He doesn’t get to pretend like everything’s cool now."

Azariah nodded slowly, sensing the deep pain behind his brother’s anger. "Just don’t do anything stupid."

Aaron was already heading toward his car, his dinner forgotten. The anger that had been misdirected at Rorie had found its proper target, and Martin Edwards was about to hear exactly what his youngest son thought about his attempts at playing father of the year.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

[roo-bastmoon]

I'm so happy and thankful: a mantra meditation

I'm just so happy and thankful that I never have to rely on big accounts who monetize lies. I never need edited pics, or deep fakes, or deliberate mistranslations, or super secret hand signals. I watch original content so I've never once mistaken one of the boys for an empty beach or a Christmas tree.

I never need to harass the other members or their families or the staff or their collaborators or fellow models or businesses or restaurants or company. I've never had to beg for moments on lives. Never had to wonder if they know each other's tiny intimate things--like lyrics to each other's songs and when grandma's birthday is or how spicy noodle is too spicy.

As absolutely adorable as all bonds are between BTS, I am so happy and grateful I've never once had to feel shame trying to spin complete b.s. into gold. I just enjoy the friendships that exist, and I celebrate whatever label Jikook wanna put on it when they are around each other.

I'm so happy and grateful now that I never need worry about rumors or "eye witness" accounts or whatever. BTS all love each other. But our boys made their choice.

Jungkook is gonna keep holding Jiminie. Bleugh blueugh blueaaaggghh.

Love Roo <3

[katnisspeetaprim]

Key - 💞 fluff, 💦smut, ✨️spice but no smut,

🥀angst, 💥crack,🔔most popular

Kim Seokjin

Pockets 💞

Min Yoongi

Scar ✨️💞

Privacy Part.2 🥀💦🔔

Appropriate Concert Attire 💞💥

Happy Birthday Old Man! (LS series) 💞💦 Let's Do It together 💦💞🔔 Best Concert Ever 💞 Basketball 💞 Haegeum Challenge 💞 Always, Us M.list (Suchwita Couple) 💞💦🔔 Pushing Your Luck ✨️ Safeword 💦🥀 Broad Day Light 🥀💞

Jung Hoseok

At The Concert 💞 Enlistment (LS series) 🥀💞 Who's Your Favourite Full M.list 💞🥀💦😊

Stress Relief 💦

Kim Namjoon

Appropriate Concert Attire (LS series) 💞💥 B.S Standards pt.1 Part.2 🥀💞 I'm Not Quitting. 🥀

Park Jimin

Like Crazy Challenge 💞 Thank You For Believing In Me 💞

Kim Taehyung

Embarrassed 🥀

Jeon Jungkook

Let Me Do This For You 🥀💦 Late Night Talking (LS series) 💞💥🔔 Boxing (LS series) 💦🥀💞 New Tattoo 💞💥 What's With The Late Night's? (LS series) 💞 Careless Live (LS series) 💞🥀 They're Gonna Know. How Would They Know? 💞

I Told You So! 💞 Again? Really? Part 2. He's a Nuisance 💞💥 Slice of Life M.list 💞🥀 Couples Shoot 💞🥀 Pluto Part.2 Part.3 🥀 I'll Sort It Out 🥀 Lost Keys and Soaked Clothes 🥀

8th Member Margot Han

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[summercourtship]

a view from above. (edward's POV)

From Ch. 11- observing the Iceberg Lounge. Something short and sweet (see: kinda creepy) word count: 2271 | warnings/notes: ed is a lil creepy sometimes, there is also an implication that the reader has sent pictures to Jonathan but you can dismiss it as noncanon if you wish.

read on AO3 | stay to burn masterpost

He hacked into her phone only when he was tired of waiting for her to just randomly show up at his apartment. When it hadn’t happened the day after he’d dropped off the card at her apartment, he knew she was waiting for something. But he needed to know what exactly she was waiting for so he wasn’t wasting his own time. He had other things to do, after all. (Though he was finding that they were seeking increasingly less important in comparison to… her.)

Besides, he didn’t even really hack into her phone- just her text messages which were all stored in the Cloud anyway. And once he found what he wanted, he left. He didn’t snoop around, didn’t try to learn more about her through her conversations. He certainly didn’t look to see if she had sent any pictures to Dr. Crane. (And if he had found any pictures, he certainly didn’t save them.) 

But he found the information he needed- she was going to go to the Iceberg Lounge with her friends on Saturday. He knew the date, the time, the theme (it was for the birthday of a friend, another college student named Bridgit that Edward vaguely recognized from some of the Instagram pictures he had looked at before.) And he had a gut feeling that he was the reason she had seemingly changed her mind about attending. 

The night of her outing, he waited in his old apartment. Edward tried not to spend too much time there- it was abandoned, yes, but you never knew when the GCPD was going to come sniffing around to make sure there were no squatters or other delinquents making use of the empty space. Or worse, if the Batman was going to check on the place for any of his followers. Especially since they were all on high alert after his escape from Arkham (though it was slightly insulting that they’d think he’d return to the one place they had him definitively connected to). Really, he’d only popped in a few times to see what had been done with the place (gutted) or meet a follower. He never risked being there for more than fifteen minutes. 

But he was risking it tonight. 

Half an hour before the group she was a part of was going to arrive, he had almost everything ready. The burner phone he was giving her was placed in its box, though the last component of his gift wasn’t quite ready yet. Something had compelled him to put pictures with the box, to show her that he hadn’t forgotten about her or her promise to help him. (And also, partially, because he liked to imagine the look on her face when she realized that he was watching her). 

So he waited at the window, shrouded in shadows, watching the street. The sun set, the street lamps flickered on. A slow crowd of people entered the club, and every time the door opened he feared that he had missed her arrival. 

Then- there. Her car, beat up and probably long overdue for an oil change, was parking in a spot nearby. He watched, not blinking, as she maneuvered into the spot, resisting the urge to wince when it turned out she was… not very good at parallel parking. 

Immediately from the back seat, two boys and a girl get out. Edward watches with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out who they are to her. Even though he isn’t too familiar with the social circles she runs in, he is certain that these people are not close to her. They couldn’t be, he couldn’t imagine her getting along with frat-boy jock types. He sincerely hoped she didn’t get along with them- she was much too important, much too special to bother with men whose only goal in life was to drink beer at parties and barely obtain their B.S. in Business. 

Then from the passenger side emerged a slightly familiar woman, though it takes a moment for him to place where he’d seen her before. Then it hits him: Mitchell’s funeral. She had been the friend, the one who had left her name tag out in a place where he could easily see it. Which had, in turn, led to him finding her. 

A few beats pass and for a moment, he’s genuinely afraid that she will drive away, that she wasn’t actually going to go into the club. But then-- the driver side door opens and- and-

And, oh, look at her. He was so used to seeing her in her wardrobe of carefully curated business casual that the sight of her in something else nearly knocked him off of his feet. But there she was- in a short dress, almost her entire leg exposed to the light of the streetlamps as she walked to catch up to her friend (Marie, that was her name). 

He was staring.

He was well aware of it. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if his mouth had gone slack. 

But what else was he supposed to do? Besides, it wasn’t like she could see him staring. Edward was free to look her up and down and up again, taking in every inch of her body while she was none the wiser. 

He watched as she walked towards the entrance to the club, out of the same window he had watched for the Batman many months ago. 

Slowly, he raised his camera with shaking hands, waiting for the perfect moment. If he had a digital camera, he’d be free to take as many as he wanted. But right now he would only afford himself two photos- one, which he took and shoved into his pocket, and the other to give to her. To show her that he was present. 

He watched as the second one developed, a dark photograph with only her face in the light, peeking over her shoulder. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was looking for him. 

And then, everything was set. The present, placed perfectly in the middle of the room. It was wrapped in newspaper, pretty badly, but he’d topped it off with a green ribbon. Just to make it look nice, so that she wouldn’t see it and immediately run. He placed the envelope with the pictures inside on top and left the room, looking back once to make sure it was as nice as he needed it to be. 

Nodding once, he made his way to his spot for the night, climbing out of the window with practiced ease. 

He sat, waiting on the rickety fire escape. It was a risk to stay here, knowing that all she had to do to find him was simply look outside the window.

But if that were to happen, then they could talk. But he trusted that she would be too preoccupied with his gift that she wouldn’t bother looking out at his fire escape. It was a risk, but one he was willing to take. 

He couldn’t see much of the entryway to the Iceberg Lounge from his current spot so he left the window open a bit to hear if anyone entered the apartment. Plus he wasn’t going to be able to see her for the entire time, and hearing her was the next best option. 

Even though he had spent the last week waiting for this night, waiting for her to come to him, the last hours of it were the worst. Every creak in the apartment building, every muffled noise, every shift of dust on the floor had him peeking over the windowsill to see if she had entered the building at last. 

Finally, he heard the unmistakable creak of his door being pushed open and light footsteps on the wooden floor. There was no other possibility- she was here. 

A bolt of nervous energy, or adrenaline, coursed through him and all he wanted to do was turn around and peek through the window, to see her in his old domain. But he controlled himself. He didn’t want to risk it all by looking into the apartment, not now that she was finally here. So instead he listened as she shuffled through the space, exploring the empty rooms slowly. 

Edward knew when she’d reached the present because her movements stopped. He assumed she was looking down at the gift, probably debating if it was safe to open or not. 

He pictured all of the things she might be thinking it was- a bomb, probably. Another riddle, sure. He wasn’t sure how likely it was that she would guess he’d brought her a phone- a direct line to him. There was no other use for the phone (for her, at least. He, of course, had also installed a tracking device into the phone. Just to make sure that she wasn’t going to skip town on him. That’s all.)

For a second he thought he’d imagined it but she had whispered his name, called out into the darkness for him. He couldn’t stop himself- he looked through the window. It was dark and he could barely make out her form, but there she was, looking around her before focusing her attention on the box at her feet. The Polaroids were in her hand and he realized he had zoned out for a minute and missed any audible reaction she’d had to the photos. 

Slowly she lowered herself to the floor, though she was moving in an odd way and it took a moment for Edward to realize it was because she didn’t want her skirt to flip upwards. Which, while fair, was disappointing that she felt the need to hide herself even when no one was watching (well, as far as she knew). 

Gingerly, she unwrapped the gift before staring down into the open box. He turned away from the window again, pulling his phone out. If everything went to plan, she’d- his thoughts were cut off as the phone began to ring.

Well, not really ring. Thank goodness he remembered to put the phone on silent. 

With a surprisingly steady hand, he answered the call. It was silent and he waited for her to make the first move, to be the first one to say something. 

“Edward?” Her voice was almost a whisper, like she was uncertain that he was on the other end.

“You found it. Good.” He kept his voice low, trying to prevent her from hearing him anywhere but the phone. 

“Where are you?”

He held back a chuckle. If she only knew that he was only a few feet away… “You don’t need to worry about that.” 

“I’m not worried, I’m just… curious.” He could imagine the incredulous look on her face, slightly defensive at the notion that she’d worry about him. “Can you see me right now?”

“Hm.” He hummed as he considered if he should tell the truth or not. He decided, for his own sake, to not. And technically, he wasn’t lying because he wasn’t looking in through the window at that moment. He couldn’t see her at that very second.“No.” 

“But you could, earlier.”

“Yes.” Obviously, the picture of you in front of the Iceberg Lounge proved that. 

“Right.” He hazarded a glance into the apartment. She was looking out one of the front windows, pulling a curtain to the side as she stared down at the Iceberg Lounge. “What do you want me to do with this phone?”

“Keep it on you.” He adjusted his pose, leaning in further to watch her. He prayed it was dark enough, that she wouldn’t look over at him. “I’ll call.”

“What are you going to have me do?”

What a question. Something he could give so many answers to, though he was certain she wouldn’t like any of them, criminal or otherwise. 

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

He could practically taste her frustration in her held back groan, though a bit escaped her in a huff of breath. 

“Please don’t draw this out any longer-” She was practically pleading with him. It was, admittedly, a nice sound. It was awful realizing that it would probably be the only way he would hear her like that- she would never beg him to do something she’d like, and he’d have to content himself with that truth. 

“All in good time.” Before he could say anything else, he hung up, tucking the phone into his pocket. He watched her silhouette as it turned in his space. Then, she jumped, and dug around in her purse before pulling out her actual phone, the blue light illuminating her face. She pressed it against her ear, clearly talking to someone. As she talked, she shoved the polaroids and burner phone into her purse, and he felt a curl of satisfaction in his lower stomach knowing that she was doing exactly what he wanted her to. 

Then, oddly, she grabbed the bow off the package and took it too before practically running out of the apartment. With a slam, the door shut behind her. 

From where he was, he couldn’t see where she went next. 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the slightly bent picture he’d taken before. It was a bit blurry, but he could still make out her figure despite it. He’d made sure to wait until she was underneath one of the streetlamps to catch her body in the yellow glow, illuminating her. He resisted the urge to sigh, instead slipping it back into his pocket and making the journey off of the fire escape and back to the street. 

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The amount of PR b.s. when William kicked them out of KP 🙄 They put out stories saying QEll might gift them houses and paintings worth millions because that's how she rewards her family members and she'll just shower the best on Harold since he's her favourite grandkid (which was another lie coz Peter Phillips is her favourite grandchild apparently). They were saying they'll get the York Cottage, Adelaide Cottage, Frogmore House. Remember the "thou shall not" list?? Crazy!

The Queen's favorite grandchildren are Peter, Louise, and James.

Peter because she kept asking him to plan jubilee/birthday events, as well as the support to be accompanied by a girlfriend to royal events.

Louise because she was born premature.

Louise and James because they were the youngest, who came around when The Queen and Philip were beginning to slow down a smidgen, but also because they lived the closest to The Queen and Philip in Windsor, so they spent more time together.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Rereading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

The more of this book I read, the less reasonable it seems to call this a reread. I definitely internalized almost nothing of this book the first time around. This time around though, we have fun things like Gandalf army crawling around Rivendell to troll Pippin, Boromir being the single person of the big folk to actually be practically concerned about the hobbits in the wild, and a personified and deeply pissed off mountain. So let's talk chapter three, "The Ring Goes South."

Literally the majority of the time we spend with the hobbits in Rivendell is in meetings. We JUST got out of the council meeting--which was a hell of an infodump chapter and frankly my head is STILL spinning over it--and now the hobbits are in Bilbo's room having their own little meeting. This is also kind of where I'm really starting to see the big folk totally disregard Merry and Frodo's relationship and lump Merry in with Pippin, because it's not even a QUESTION at first that Merry and Pippin will go along with Frodo and Sam. Which like...again...MERRY IS SOLIDLY 95% OF THE REASON THEY MADE IT OUT OF THE SHIRE AND TO BREE SAFELY. GIVE THE HOBBIT THE DAMN CREDIT HE DESERVES!!!

I can't say I'm not enjoying the Gandalf trolling Pippin dynamic, but it's wildly unfair to lump Merry into that, and frankly I cannot wait until our hobbit gets to Rohan and gets his own little adventure, because he deserves it.

In the meantime, however, all points to Sam for gently calling out that they'll "just wait long enough for winter to come" before leaving Rivendell to start their quest. I grew up in Alaska, and I am EXTREMELY with Sam on this one. A bigass quest in the winter is doable, if you're prepared and know how not to die of stupid or exposure or cold, but it is going to SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

I also deeply approve of Bilbo pinning the blame for THAT precisely where it belongs:

"That can't be helped," said Bilbo. "It's your fault partly, Frodo my lad: insisting on waiting for my birthday. A funny way of honoring it, I can't help thinking. Not the day I would have chosen for letting the S.-B.s into Bag End. But there it is: you can't wait now till spring; and you can't go till the reports come back."

The SHAAAAAAAAAAAAADE on Frodo giving Lobelia Sackville-Baggins Bag End on Bilbo's birthday there is amazing, and honestly this is an excellent point. That said though, it's also just a biiiiiiiiiiit harsh on Bilbo's part to blame Frodo for making a plan without full information. We do the best we can with the information we have at any given point, and I rather think that given his druthers--a a lack of Black Riders on the road--Frodo might have spent longer in Crickhollow and Bree, which could have meant that they would have been off on this trip in the spring. That would also have been entirely too late to do anything useful, but there you go.

We do just casually spend two months in Rivendell though, so it's literally the end of December before they get word that eight of the nine Black Riders were successfully de-horsed and de-cloaked by the rushing waters at the ford, which clears the party to officially form up and leave Rivendell.

I am not gonna lie, having largely grown up on the movies, I find it absofuckingloutely hilarious that Peter Jackson just kind of went, "Let's do 'I am Spartacus' during the council of Elrond to put the party together" and Elrond is basically like, "Nine companions...Cool beans!" And I have now discovered that the actual way this went down was a lot more "I am Elf Daddy, Hear Me Roar":

"And I will choose you companions to go with you, as far as they will or fortune allows. The number must be few, since your hope is speed and secrecy. [...] The Company of the Ring shall be Nine; and the Nine Walkers shall be set against the Nine Riders that are evil."

Ok, cool; they're an explicit parallel to the Black Riders. And thank you Tolkien for trying to subvert the dreaded movie title mention, even if Peter Jackson didn't take the hint and got cute with it (affectionately). I will say though, Elrond might have...ASKED FRODO if there was anyone in particular he wanted with him while he walked to hell. Like, this should have been a conversation, not a declaration. I grant, Frodo wouldn't have known all of what he'd need, but damn Elrond, way to not even bother to ASK.

Which is also why I am grateful Gandalf pipes up when Pippin insists that he and Merry are going. Because not only does Gandalf make up for the trolling a bit here, he also is willing to respect hobbits' desires more than LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE UP TO THIS POINT. Here's how this bit goes down:

"We don't want to be left behind. We want to go with Frodo." "That is because you do not understand and cannot imagine what lies ahead," said Elrond. "Neither does Frodo," said Gandalf, unexpectedly supporting Pippin. "Nor do any of us see clearly. It is true that if these hobbits understood the danger, they would not dare to go. But they would still wish to, or wish that they dared, and be shamed and unhappy. I think, Elrond. that in this matter it would be well to trust rather to their friendship than to great wisdom."

THEY ARE NOT CHILDREN JUST BECAUSE THEY'RE SHORT, ELROND. Frodo is like fully in his hobbit 30s, and everyone else is a legal hobbit adult. They get to make their own choices, even if your ass doesn't like them. And THANK YOU GANDALF for supporting hobbit agency at this time. Honest to christ, it's like big folk see small folk and go "child" and as a short woman (five foot one on a good day) this is deeply irritating to me. Height isn't some indicator of adulthood and intelligence. It's an indicator of HEIGHT.

And sure, even if the hobbits have no fucking clue what they're in for, that's not like...wildly unusual for newly adulted adults. We make all sorts of decisions in our early twenties (or have them made for us *glares in military drafts and student loans*) that we absolutely would not have made given more life experience. Like...welcome to adulthood, sit the fuck down Elrond.

Which he eventually does, we sort out the company roster, and everyone fucks off to go get kitted up.

Anduril just gets casually reforged so Aragorn can have a sword that is actually USEFUL on this leg of the trip. My favorite thing though? Absolutely has to be Bilbo's CASUAL DISREGARD FOR RIVENDELL'S ARCHITECURE:

"Here is your sword," he said. "But it was broken, you know. I took it to keep it safe but I've forgotten to ask if the smiths could mend it. No time now. So I thought, perhaps, you would care to have this, don't you know?" He took from the box a small sword in an old shabby leather scabbard. Then he drew it, and its polished and well-tended blade glittered suddenly, cold and bright. "This is Sting," he said, and thrust it with little effort deep into a wooden beam.

The absolute HELL I would have caught from literally everyone if I ever casually plunged a sword into someone else's house doesn't even bear thinking about. I also appreciate the casual hobbity disregard for Frodo's own sword. Like, it was broken, and Bilbo just...forgot to get it fixed? Part of me is like, "Well, he IS a hobbit," and the rest of me is like "THE FUCK YOU FORGOT, SIR. THIS IS A PLOY TO SET YOUR NEPHEW AND HEIR OFF WITH A SWORD YOU TRUST." Which is deeply relatable and honestly super adorably parental, especially since it is ABSOLUTELY Bilbo's fault that Frodo ended up in this position. (Yeah that might be harsh and it might ignore the Ring's own agency, but I stand by "magic rings shouldn't be passed down to unsuspecting nephews" thing.)

I do appreciate that Frodo gets Sting though, because that sword served Bilbo well in The Hobbit, and even I can appreciate the value of the inheritance that Sting brings to the quest in general and Bilbo in particular. Same with the Mithril shirt--although the word Mithril is not used in this chapter!!! Bilbo refers to it as dwarf-mail, and I would need to go back and look at The Hobbit to see if he knows it's Mithril there and I cannot currently be bothered.

What is really adorable is that Frodo takes one look at this thing--and its matching pearl and crystal belt--and goes "I should look - well, I don't think I should look right in it." And Bilbo AGREES!!! But it's darling, really, because he does the hobbitiest thing imaginable to get the protective gear on the nephew:

"Just what I said myself," said Bilbo. "But never mind about looks. You can wear it under your outer clothes. Come on! You must share this secret with me. Don't tell anybody else! But I should feel happier if I knew you were wearing it. I have a fancy it would turn even the knives of the Black Riders," he ended in a low voice.

The masterful parenting skills on display here. First, we validate the kid's feelings that yeah, it looks pretty stupid. But hey, nobody has to see, and it can be our cool little secret! And it would make me, your beloved, frail, old Uncle Bilbo feel better if you did. Do you WANT to get stabbed again? Because not wearing this is how you get stabbed again. This is literally just Bilbo running through the parenting manual at warp speed, and I kind of love it. Because ultimately, the Mithril goes on, and it will end up saving Frodo's ass.

Although admittedly it's not going to do much on Caradhras.

It then takes three and a half pages to get everyone out the goddamn gate, but a third of the way into this chapter, we do FINALLY get the fellowship setting forth. Before they can get out the door though, Elrond spends a weird amount of time going "EVERYONE IS A VOLUNTEER. THEY CAN LEAVE WHENEVER THEY WANT." It has very "Covering my ass to not get sued" vibes, and frankly while I appreciate the clarity--and yes, I get it, the choice to stay together is what makes the bonds strong more than some oath--CAN WE PLEASE GET THE HELL ON THE ROAD ALREADY???

It is getting toward January, so walking to the mountains is cold and windy and miserable but probably also deeply boring, so Tolkien kind of glosses over that until we get to the Misty Mountains and we get like fifteen names for each peak that I'm not spending time on because I don't care. The important thing is that we have to go up the Redhorn Gate on Caradhras and head for the Dimrill Dale, where we will descend the Dimrill Stair toward the Mirrormere and River Silverlode. Got it.

It does not take long for Aragorn to get anxious because the patterns of the land are disrupted, and I love that as per usual, when something important happens, it's Sam who is there. When the crebain pull their little flyover, it's Sam whose watch Aragorn shares, SAM who actually first sees the dark patch that heralds the spy birds, and Sam whose eyes we see them through. Sam is the keeper of knowledge for our hobbits, and I adore that this pattern is still standing strong, even if it means that these people can't stay secret or hidden for longer than a few days if their damn lives depend on it. Literally at no point have the forces of Mordor not known that the ring is moving, and they've generally had a rough sense of where it is too. Even Gandalf is over here going, "and I have no freaking clue how we're getting over the Redhorn Gate unseen, but we will burn that bridge when we get to it."

Unfortunately, by the time they actually do get to Caradhras, weather seems to be moving in, and Wizard Daddy and King of Gondor Daddy are fighting about the route and refusing to ask for directions:

"Winter deepens behind us, [...] the weather may prove a more deadly enemy than any. What do you think of your course now, Aragorn?" [...] "I think no good of our course from beginning to end, as you well know, Gandalf," answered Aragorn. [...] "But there is another way, and not by the pass of Caradhras: the dark and secret way that we have spoken of." "But let us not speak of it again! Not yet." [...] "We must decide before we go further," answered Gandalf.

But ultimately, they opt to go over the mountain, with Boromir super wisely piping up as the expert on traveling in deadly winter that hey, MAYBE THEY SHOULD BRING SOME FIREWOOD, because "it will not help us to keep so secret that we are frozen to death."

Like, Aragorn is a ranger, but he isn't used to these altitudes. Gandalf and Legolas aren't bothered by snow. Gimli is...a dwarf. But Boromir has probably seen people die in snow and cold, and I'd bet he knows that thanks to the weird thing where people who are smaller have higher surface-area-to-volume ratios and lose body heat faster. Boromir and Aragorn are big dudes, but the hobbits are literally child-sized. They're going to be in more danger from cold faster. So YEAH, bring the extra fire wood.

Oh, and hey, Gimli? THIS MIGHT HAVE BEEN THE MOMENT TO MENTION THAT CARADHRAS HATES ELVES AND WIZARDS. I PERHAPS WOULD NOT HAVE WAITED UNTIL YOU WERE EYEBALL DEEP IN AN UNNATURAL SNOWSTORM TO MENTION THIS.

Seriously, they get partway up this mountain, and Gandalf and Aragorn are still having a pissing contest about the route they're now actively on, Boromir is hypothesizing that Sauron is yeeting a blizzard at them, AND NOT A GODDAMN WORD FROM GIMLI until the next day when Boromir is hearing fell voices in the air and BIGASS STONES ARE FALLING ON THEIR HEADS. And even then, it's not the full explanation we'll get in another couple pages, it's:

"Caradhras was called the Cruel, and had an ill name," said Gimli, "long years gao, when rumour of Sauron had not been heard in these lands."

Like, sure, ok. It's a mean, grouchy mountain. BUT AGAIN, MAYBE WE COULD HAVE PICKED A DIFFERENT ROUTE IF WE KNEW IT SPECIFICALLY HATED ELVES AND WIZARDS.

This heralds probably the worst night that the company spends on this mountain. They have almost no cover, the snow nearly buries the hobbits, and had Boromir not been watching, they'd have fallen asleep and suffocated to death under snow or frozen to death. And it is SUPER clear that Gandalf doesn't understand how biology works, because in response to Boromir's "This will be the death of the halflings" (which, YEAH, no kidding!!!), Gandalf pulls out the Elven liquor. Specifically miruvor, or the cordial of Imladris, but that means jack to me at this point other than IT IS NOT ENOUGH TO KEEP THE HOBBITS ALIVE IN A MOUNTAIN BLIZZARD IN JANUARY.

Ultimately it's Boromir's foresight to bring some goddamn fuel and light a fire that keeps the hobbits alive, and frankly as someone who grew up where it could hit minus 50 Fahrenheit, Gandalf is no longer allowed to lead on mountains. If Boromir hadn't been there, they would have had four dead hobbits on their hands. Like, yes, eyes on the prize, but PERHAPS NOT AT THE EXPENSE OF THE LIFE OF THE RINGBEARER LESS THAN A MONTH INTO THE JOURNEY???

At this point, Gimli calls for, and is granted, a retreat, because the mountain is absolutely going to kill all their asses. Boromir again gets MEGA points for being the beefiest of beefy warrior men and breaking a trail to get everyone else down--WHILE CARRYING MERRY AND PIPPIN. Like, quite literally this bear of a man has one hobbit piggyback, one clinging to his front like a monkey, and STILL manages to keep clearing and widening the path for everyone behind him. And this goes on for like another day or two as they get off murder mountain.

Quite literally I am gonna need everyone to stop what they're doing and acknowledge that Boromir pulled everyone's asses out of the fire that Aragorn and Gandalf bickered them into. Like, I'm not gonna say this man was done completely dirty by the movie, because he gets little "protector of the hobbits' physical well-being" moments throughout, but HOLY TITS WAS THAT SCALED DOWN.

I think I'll leave it here, with Caradhras having quite handily handed the fellowship their asses, and Boromir being the only reason that the hobbits survived that little foray into mountain passes. Like, they gave it the old college try, and I'm sure that probably seemed like the least bad of all the shitty options for travel in front of them, but if anything was DESIGNED to murder the hobbits in their little hairy tracks, it was the angry, Elf and Wizard hating mountain that can yeet stones and whip up killer blizzards...

[dtmsrpfcringe]

God, I was never going to anonymous ask on this (or any) blog, but I'm so mad right now. HOW can these assholes repost entire collections of posts from Anna's birthday party and then just bitch and moan about how "aggressively" she's partying? And how Michael looks "sober" and all this b.s. when he's singing Sweet Transvestite and clearly having a ball and being a gem of a boyfriend? It's just such crap. How are they not embarrassed to use a woman's own birthday party to shit on her??!!

hey anon can you send me the link to this? I saw this as I was about to go to bed but I haven’t seen any of these complaints yet. You can drop the link like you sdid here anonymously and I can see it

[mariacallous]

He dreamed of a career in the Israeli military. Instead, ironically, he co-created an iconic cereal brand which bears a distinctly military name and rank — Cap’n Crunch. The man behind the cereal is food technologist Chaim Gur-Arieh. He not only was on the laboratory ground floor bringing Cap’n Crunch to supermarket shelves, but Gur-Arieh brought us multiple other blockbuster brands and products — Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing, Tiger’s Milk Bar, single serving pudding and gelatin cups, and wine coolers.

Ninety-year-old Gur-Arieh is a non-stop innovator not only of foods, but of himself. He’s lived on three continents and pursued three distinct careers. Born in Istanbul, Turkey to a family that traces its roots there to the 1500s, he moved on his own at 14 to Israel. A high school dropout, his hopes of a life in the Israeli army ended when an explosion caused a hearing loss. Undeterred, he returned to school and earned a B.S. in chemical engineering.

In Israel, Chaim changed his last name from Mizrachi, a common name there, to Gur-Arieh, meaning “lion cub.” But this wasn’t the only change he made. After working at a rubber factory, Gur-Arieh decided chemical engineering wasn’t for him, he explained in a recent interview. So, he reinvented himself once more. He moved to the U.S., earned a master’s degree and Ph.D. in Food Science at the University of Illinois, and became a food technologist.

His first job was at Quaker Oats Company in the Midwest. It was there Cap’n Crunch was born. At the time, Quaker Oats had another cereal on the market. It also had a problem. That cereal, Life, was infringing on a patent owned by Ralston Purina Company, according to Gur-Arieh. So, Quaker Oats needed an alternative manufacturing method, and while working on one, came the idea of developing a sweet cereal for children, namely Cap’n Crunch.

While Cap’n Crunch is famed for its sugary taste and distinctive cartoon character, Gur-Arieh’s contribution was technical and industry trend setting. He co-developed the cereal’s manufacturing process called extrusion, the mechanical process when grain is forced to flow — under one or more varieties of conditions of mixing, heating and cutting — through a mold which shapes and/or puff-dries the grain. Before extrusion became the most common method of processing cereal, grains were typically rolled.

In the six decades since its introduction by Quaker Oats (now a subsidiary of PepsiCo), the popular corn and oat cereal has spun off into numerous flavors and seasonal variations, including ones with berries, “vanilly,” peanut butter” and “choco.” 

As for Gur-Arieh, he too spun off into multiple ventures. He worked for Del Monte Foods and a company developing food for astronauts. After that, he ran his own companies and along the way hit another gastronomical home run — developing Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing or more accurately the dressing as we dip and devour it today. Years before, ranch dressing had gone to market in dry mix packets, but Gur-Arieh created the bottled liquid formula convenience-loving consumers didn’t know they craved. 

About this time, Gur-Arieh took on a partner-for-life, his wife Elisheva. After 35 years in the food business, at an age when many people might consider retirement, Chaim and Elisheva opted to fulfill a longtime dream of opening a winery. Their Di Arie Vineyard & Winery, located in the Sierra foothills outside of Sacramento, CA, grows 11 varietals of grapes. In addition to the vineyard, there’s a tasting room and a wine club. Chaim makes the wine, while Elisheva, a nationally exhibited artist, oversees sales and marketing. 

Now, 24 years into operating the winery and having just celebrated his 90th birthday, you might ask when does the man behind Cap’n Crunch start resting on his laurels — or at least on his vineyard? The answer: Not yet.

Since COVID, the vineyard faces new challenges and Gur-Arieh is innovating once again to meet them. Sales are down and consumer tastes are changing, he explained. 

“First, there’s a general decrease in the amount of wine people are drinking. It’s partially an economic decision, but it’s also generational,” he said. “Younger drinkers are turning away from wine and back to hard liquor and that’s having an impact.”

To combat the downturn, this nonagenarian inventor has created three wines that pair with sushi. This new Hikari line is being marketed to money-spending younger foodie fans to win them back to wine. It has three offerings including a specially formulated chilled red wine blend and comes in bottles and cans – again, a nod to a younger demographic. Hikari is already sold in supermarkets in the West and Gur-Arieh is negotiating with a major Midwest chain to place Hikari there.

And with that update on his business, our interview concluded. The man who never lost his stride, be it during relocation from country to country (or continent to continent) or industry to industry, put on his floppy hat and headed out the door. There were grapes to tend to, watered and watched. Another day of work for this constantly innovating continually enterprising food scientist-turned-vintner.

[dballzposting]

Trunks is standing htere like What up im Trunks this is my buddy Goten he wears blue and I wear green but we're still cool in fact Goten may not be able to factor binomials or build a motherboard but he's the realest one out here way more real than any of you sonsabitches. He wears tall socks and it's LAME AF and I kick him around for it constanrtly but if any one of you makes a comment about his sickly attire then I will turn your face into ROADKILL! His mom picks his clothes out for him and he listens to her and while you're here you better call his mom "mom" too becasue if you don't then you get the skillet. No one beter say any shit about his mom becasue even though she doesnt let us stay up late at sleepovers she's still the realest one out here way more real than any one of you sonsabitches and today is her birthday too so you better pay her your respects i better hear you say "happy birthday mom" or I swear to God that your ass will become filet mignon. Goten's mom can shake a grill like it's nobody's business so you best run on out of here before she starts getting creative. There's a full house tonight and she doesn't have time for your B.S. so you better bow in respect and let her work and don't say nothing about her son's stupid gay socks neither or you'll end up on the wrong side of the grill. You'll end up lying supine on a garnished plate with a stick up where it hurts and an apple in your mouth if you dont goddamn start paying some fucking respects right now

[foxydivaxx]

Zosan: Late Night Birthday Special

Here it is. Zoro's birthday special. I set this in the AU I have created. Zoro gets a visit from a certain blondie. Just read on and see what I am talking about. Warning: Sexual content.

Zoro sighs as he walks into his swanky condo in Manhattan. Sure, today was his birthday but he purposely ignored all the birthday greetings from the others. Perhaps getting gunned down weeks ago might have made him a little too paranoid.

At first, he suspected Sukuna his rival, sort of friend, and Sanji's ex-lover. But after some investigation, Sukuna was found innocent of all crimes even though he had enough motive to do it as the bastard used to obsess over Sanji and almost killed him on more than one occasion.

As he enters the living room, he sees Sanji lying on the sofa in a seductive manner, dressed in a wine suit. His heart starts pounding. Some things sure do not change.

"Hello Marimo" he says, a playful smirk in place. The way the blonde says that childhood nickname of his often does things to him. Zoro gives him a curt nod, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Hi Curly."

Sanji slowly gets off the sofa and makes his way towards him. Once Sanji gets close to him, he traces his fingers across his chest, causing shivers to go down Zoro's spine. After all these years, Sanji still held that level of power over him.

Ever since that Sukuna incident that happened five years ago, the couple kept their distance, trying to pick up the pieces of their life. Same applies to the rest of the gang as well.

"You actually came back." Sanji giggles. "I could not stay away for that long darling. Besides, everyone needed that break to you know, recoup from all the drama and b.s. I mean, we were all a bunch of fucking kids. What do kids know?"

Zoro chuckles at that one. He had a point. "That's what happens when you give kids that much power and fame. It can intoxicate you." Sanji grins and wraps his arms around his ex's neck. "A little birdie told me that you do not want to celebrate your birthday."

Zoro sighed. "Yeah. After that shooting, I was not excited." Sanji then leans closer to his ear and whispers, "How about I change all that?" He then proceeds to slowly rub Zoro's crotch. The green-haired heir had to bite his lip. God he missed Sanji and this was one of the reasons why.

"What's the plan babe?"

Sanji smirked. "Glad you asked."

A couple minutes later, the couple are in the limo with their friends. Sanji managed to call the rest of the gang. Not their old friends but rather the new ones they made.

"Hold up?! How did these two end up together?!" Zoro exclaimed, pointing at Gojo and Nami. "Thank Sanji for that." says Gojo. Zoro stares at Sanji who smirks. "Well, how it happened is that Gojo here helped me pay for my dinner after my date stood me up. Sanji heard about that and called him and encouraged him to take me out for a bar date. The rest is history." says Nami as she sips some champagne. Gojo grins and wraps his arms around his new beau. "Best decision ever."

"Who would have thought that the great Gojo could mellow out like this?" says Zoro. "Still the same old Gee. Just a different flavour." says Gojo.

"Heard Usopp got engaged." says Eren. "What?!" Sanji's jaw dropped. "About time tbh." Zoro laughs. Mary flashes the 15 carat diamond ring. "Wooh!! Look at that bling!!" says Sanji. "Usopp got taste." says Gojo, chuckling. Usopp shrugs. "Anything for my princess." he says, kissing Mary on the cheek.

"What about you Luffy? Congrats on that Hollywood Star." says Sanji. The gang applauds Luffy who chuckles. "Thank you!! Thank you!! Much appreciated." says Luffy.

"Do not compliment him too much. His brain might explode." Sabo jokes. "Pfft...like you are one to talk." Everyone laughs. "Don't mind him." says Ace. "He was a sobbing mess that day though," says Shanks. "Who wouldn't be? Like that is a fucking huge honor," says Sanji .

It was great to see the entire gang back together. The last time this happened was 5 years ago and there was a lot of drama then thanks to the old crowd

"He got a point man." says Franky who is smoking a cigarette. "How about a toast ladies and gents?" Sanji suggest. Everyone grabs their glass and toasts to Zoro who grins at Sanji and then leans closer to him and whispers in his ear, "Thanks for this babe." Sanji smirks. "Anything for you my love." With that, the duo seal it with a kiss. "Aww." the girls all cooed. "Took them both long enough." Gojo jokes. Everyone laughs. Zoro smirks. Tonight was going to be a long night.

After hours of nonstop clubbing and partying, everyone heads home. "I cannot remember the last time we have had this much fun together." says Zoro as he and Sanji walk back into his condo.

"This is why I arranged all this for you Daddy." Hearing Sanji call him Daddy after all these years was enough to work wonders on his ever growing bulge. Without hesitation, Zoro pulls Sanji closer and begins to kiss those lips of his hungrily.

Sanji obliges him in kind, letting out a moan in response. "God I fucking miss you!!" The two start stripping and throwing their clothes around as they make a race to the bedroom.

Sanji gets on all fours on the bed and wiggles his ass. "Come get me big boy." Zoro chuckled and proceeds to lick and eat out Sanji's ass, earning more moans from the blonde.

He could have kept at it til Sanji came on the sheets but he would rather have his dick in that ass and fuck him senseless. Grabbing the lube from the bedside drawer, he pours some on his dick.

Once he was satisfied, he pushes his bulge into his lover who lets out a loud gasp. "F-Fuck...."

"Damn you are as tight as ever!!" He then begins to fuck the living daylights of Sanji who is reduced to a screaming, moaning mess. Normally, he owuld take it nice and slow but he knows Sanji well enough to know how impatient the blonde can get.

He keeps on going, trying to find that spot that he knows would drive Sanji crazy.

"Fuck!! Right there!!"

Zoro smirks and proceeds to keep on hitting that spot. Eventually, Sanji cums screaming his lover's name. Zoro follows suit and moans cumming hard into Sanji.

Once they were done, Zoro pulls out out of his lover and lies down on the bed. Sanji crawls towards him and liesdown next to him and cuddles him.

"Happy birthday Daddy." says Sanji. Zoro smiles and kisses Sanji on the forehead. "I owe you one babe." Best present ever.

What do you guys think?

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Booker Finlee Species: Human (Non-powered) Occupation: WRPD Detective Age: 55 Years Old Played By: Elliott Face Claim: Hugh Jackman

"Don't drink the tap water. There's got to be some kind of chemical leak around here."

TW: Parental death

Booker Finlee had a pretty normal childhood, as far as these things go. He grew up in the South Bronx of New York, attending public school and busying himself with a handful of various hobbies, his favorite of which was scavenger hunts. He’d beg his family to set them up once every few months, and his folks were always happy to oblige. It eventually became something of a tradition, and the best ones were always on his birthday. Booker’s mother was an elementary school teacher at the same school he attended, and his father was a radiologist at the nearby hospital. While teaching and medical careers had never interested him, his parents did manage to instill a deep thirst for knowledge in their son and give him an appreciation for the scientific method.

His appetite for solving puzzles had not diminished since childhood, and he became enamored with the concept of detectives and solving crimes like the guys in the movies; helping victims by bringing them the closure they deserved and protecting innocents from the ever-vague ‘bad guys’. When it came time for college, Booker attended NYU and earned his B.S. in Criminal Justice and Psychology. While at NYU, he met his future wife, Gloria. She was an Arts major, and as they say, opposites did in fact attract. Where Booker was quiet and contemplative, Gloria tended to be loud and spontaneous. He loved her more than he’d ever loved another human being, he thought. She kept him above ground, and he kept her from floating off into the clouds. They were perfect for each other, and got married while still attending school. They had their first child, Amos, when Booker was twenty-five, with another quickly following the next year who they named Avery.

Booker’s first job out of the police academy was as a CSI for the NYPD. This job meant long shifts, and he would often work twelve hour days, on weekends and even on holidays. As you might expect, this created a strained home life. After a few years of this, he jumped on the career track to becoming a police officer, seeing detective at the end of that four year tunnel and striving for it with deeply ingrained enthusiasm. He was going to do great work.

In 2004, five years after becoming a detective for the NYPD, his good friend and partner died on the job. What was supposed to be a relatively safe occupation suddenly was not, and Booker never fully recovered from the loss, instead withdrawing. He kept saying he was fine when he wasn’t, and he threw himself even more into his work to cope, often staying overnight at the office. In the same year, his parents both passed in an accident and the detective became a shell of his former self. His wife filed for divorce two years later, and moved with the kids to Maine after being granted majority custody. The last thing she ever asked of him was to please see a therapist. He did.

Booker never dated again after his wife left, settling down into a life of self-inflicted solitude. Work became his priority again, as well as maintaining a good relationship with his kids. They visited every other holiday and during the summers until they went off to college, and during those years, Booker made time to go visit them as often as possible. Both children ended up putting down roots in Portland, which acted as the catalyst for Booker’s decision to move closer. He eventually settled on Wicked’s Rest, after hearing his kids talk about the surprising number of missing persons cases and discovering that it had an open position for a police detective. They had visited the town in the past but couldn’t seem to recall anything especially strange, just that people would go missing there a lot. Intrigued, Booker decided it was time to uproot his life in the city and move to the coastal town up north. What could make so many folks disappear? Couldn’t be anything so bad as the violence he experienced in the city, he figured, but it was a question he wanted to answer. Besides, he’d be much closer to his family this way, and in his older age, he found himself less concerned with working himself to death and more concerned with having weekly dinners with his kids.

Character Facts:

Personality: Inquisitive, persistent, obstinate, guarded, lawful, observant, empathetic, altruistic, nescient

Booker is a true professional when it comes to his job, but outside of work he is a deeply unserious man. This is evident in both his dry sense of humor and his peculiar fashion choices. He likes loud shirts, but also greatly values comfort over everything else. This might explain his sock with sandals fixation, despite the protests of his children. 

He is generally soft spoken despite his gruff appearance suggesting otherwise, and his habit of silent observation and contemplation often makes it seem like he's grumpy when he's actually just deep in thought. 

He's a very ‘by the book’ (haha) kind of man. He always follows the rules, even to his own detriment. He is not naturally a violent person, preferring to talk his way out of situations, but he will use force to protect himself and innocent people if it comes to it. 

Despite being fairly private about his own life, he takes great interest in hearing about others and genuinely loves listening to people talk about their passions.

He has never encountered anything supernatural in his life, and has never believed anything that couldn’t be proven true—beyond a shadow of a doubt—by science.

His pet cat, Fresno, is a twenty-five pound blue Maine Coon with a spitfire personality. He is also leash trained, and Booker can be often spotted taking him on walks around town or on hikes. 

Booker’s son, Amos, has taken him to many paint bars, but the old detective has never been good with a brush. About ten years ago they started trying other crafts together, and Booker discovered a hidden talent for needle felting.

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's 2023 Birthday Prequel

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for content that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This prequel was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

[Chapter 1: Returned Treasure]

After turning the key into the keyhole twice, the door was pushed open.

"Take a look at it first, Kiro. If you want to buy additional furniture and appliances, just let me know."

Accompanied by the man's words, Kiro walked through the entrance hall, a bit of deliberate curiosity in his blue eyes as he looked at the new residence that the company had arranged for him.

The living room was very spacious, enough to place a lot of music equipment.

The kitchen was L-shaped, and the aisles were neither wide nor narrow. There was a refrigerator, oven and other high-end appliances built into the wall cabinets. There was only one thing missing - a microwave.

For a "killer cook", it could almost be considered one of the greatest inventions in the world.

But he didn't want to trouble the unfamiliar man in front of him, so he nodded deceptively and walked towards the bedroom. But as soon as he stepped through the door, he frowned.

Although the sun was shining brightly in the sky, the room was extremely dark, and the white bed and wardrobe in his field of vision were covered with a layer of gloomy gray.

The instigator behind this was a drab building standing next door. The walls looked like cracked skin, mottled and old.

The man seemed to have noticed something and said softly, "It's disturbing being blocked by this building, isn't it? But it will be demolished soon."

"Disturbing?"

The subconscious rhetorical question made the man stunned, but he quickly reacted and showed two rows of big white teeth.

"Hey, is this a northern dialect? How should I explain it..."

"When something makes you feel uncomfortable and upset, we call it disturbing..." As if he found it hard to describe at once, the other party started to make gestures.

Kiro listened quietly while observing the man with thick eyebrows and big eyes in front of him. An hour ago, he had introduced himself in the pick-up hall --

Savin, a manager of B.S. Entertainment and the one responsible for his acting arrangements in Loveland City in the future.

He'd heard this information from Pen a long time ago, but he still wasn't sure whether the other party was a member of B.S. But it didn't matter. There would always be more than one pair of eyes lurking around him.

Therefore, he took Savin's words very naturally.

"Haha - so that's what it meant. It's okay, Savin, I'm not disturbed."

The casual form of address made Savin stunned for a moment, and his eyes softened. "You must know that we Northeasterners can easily take away people's accents. You should learn less, don't be afraid of using your usual Californian accent..."

Savin paused and handed the key in his hand to Kiro.

"Also... I know you've just returned to China, and you must be uncomfortable with everything."

"Food, accent, residence... including the people. But all of this is temporary. I believe you'll find your own rhythm here soon."

Under Savin's sincere gaze, Kiro also nodded solemnly.

"Okay, how about this for today? I'll leave first. You have a good rest. I'll see you at the company tomorrow."

Savin walked out as he spoke. The moment he closed the door, another sentence was hurriedly squeezed in, "If you need anything, please call me at any time!"

Bang - the door was shut.

Kiro finally breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to walk to the suitcase he brought back from California - one which was filled with souvenirs he'd collected over the years.

He touched the box and smiled, then walked around again before finally opening an inconspicuous low cabinet and putting it inside.

This was the "treasure" he hid, and the keyhole could only be accessed by one person.

"Hey, I'm back with the treasure box. I hope I can find you soon."

[Chapter 2: Tiny Light]

--8:30 a.m.

A sharp ringing sounded throughout the bedroom.

"Mm..."

Accompanied by a vague voice, a slender arm stretched out from under the quilt. It followed it's owner's will and groped around the bed, but as it fumbled, it grew impatient. It kept swatting at the bedside like a gopher until the world became quiet, and an unknown amount of time had passed.

The man who had been dreaming suddenly opened his eyes, looking around in panic and confusion. However, in his misty vision, there was only a tiny cluster of light huddled pitifully in the corner, secretly confusing time, making it impossible to distinguish between day and night.

Kiro had no choice but to pick up his phone and take a look -- 8:38 a.m.

"......"

He helplessly rubbed his messy blond hair, walked to the window with bare feet, and pulled the already open curtains wider to both sides. However, the light only spread a little symbolically, illuminating half of the floor.

--It seemed a little disturbing.

He frowned and inadvertently stepped into the sunlight.

The thin light could only illuminate half of his body, but the corners that were illuminated were dazzling enough. He subconsciously squinted his eyes and followed the trajectory, all the way out of the dilapidated building next door. After that, he saw the endless flow of vehicles and the small crows of people going back and forth.

At this moment, Kiro's heart seemed to open up.

There was nice whether today.

-

--9:30 a.m. B.S. Entertainment Conference Room

"Kiro, although you've just returned to China, you should rest for a while to adjust yourself."

"But there haven't been many domestic entertainment resources recently, and everyone has be rushing to grab them, so we should seize this opportunity."

Savin picked up a stack of papers and handed them to Kiro, "If you continue to focus on your music, your development will become more rigid, so the company has secured some film and television audition opportunities for you."

"We can't just be singers, we need to become famous superstars."

Upon hearing that, Kiro knew that this had been the decision taken up by B.S. After all, only by expanding his influence in all directions would it be easier to do things for them. But he wasn't put-off. He knew very well that only by constantly broadening his own path, would he be able to take the initiative into his own hands sooner.

"Alright, Savin. I just have one question." He flipped through the audition details in the file. "When will the auditions start and how much time do I have to prepare?"

Kiro's calmness made Savin laugh and adjust the watch on his wrist slightly.

"Two o'clock in the afternoon. There's an audition for a sports commercial."

"Okay, I'll get ready now."

[Chapter 3: Good at Joy and Happiness]

In just a month, Kiro's success rate in auditions was nearly 75%. But when Savin reviewed the results, he frowned, "Strange... why did the auditions for movies and TV series fail?"

A trace of frustration flashed in Kiro's eyes, "I'll continue working hard. Please give me some time."

After a moment, Savin spoke in a deep voice, "Don't worry, this isn't something you have to work hard on alone. I'll find you a professional acting teacher. It's okay. There's no need to rush for success. We still have time and opportunities."

With that said, he took out his cell phone and walked out, until a polite greeting came from the corridor.

-

The next day, Kiro was already in the garden of the lecturer's home--

"Hello, Mr. Chen. My name's Kiro."

He nodded slightly and looked at the man sitting on the wooden chair.

It was easy to tell from the drooping wrinkles on the other person's face that he was already a bit old, but his sharp eyes made him appear to be in high spirits.

"Mm, Savin told me everything."

"But before we start with the class, tell me, what do you think acting is?"

Kiro stayed silent for a while before considering his answer.

"Acting to me... is about interpreting different lives."

"That's half right, but it's more accurate to continue living these different lives." The teacher raised his eyebrows, "Although the characters in the scripts are fictitious, and the plot is also fictitious, most of them come from real life."

"In the corners you can't see, and to the people you can't see, ever-changing things happen every day. Actors are there to live these lives again."

Hearing this, Kiro seemed to vaguely understand what the teacher meant - "deduction" and "experience" seemed to be two different things.

But before he could continue to digest it, the teacher undid the folds on his pants and said, "That's all. Let's do some imagination and sensitivity training."

"Now, close your eyes and imagine that you're walking in a forest. The grass is soft and the sound of the stream is in your ears. But you also hear the rustling sounds coming from the grass in the distance. What do you think is there?"

"A rabbit..." Kiro closed his eyes, a faint smile on his lips.

"Then, what do you want to do?"

Kiro couldn't help but hold his breath, and stepped forward more slowly. He groped his way to the grass and squatted down, "Hey... would you like to come into my arms and play for a while?"

As he spoke, he opened his arms and waited quietly. It wasn't until his body suddenly froze that he carefully retracted his arms, as if he were really picking up a rabbit... Then, he tilted his head and raised his right hand gently.

Caressing down.

"Hello, I'm Kiro."

Unconsciously, the teacher's voice also became much softer, "After playing with you for a while, the rabbit suddenly ran into the bushes."

"....!"

A hint of panic appeared on Kiro's face. He placed his palms on the ground and leaned down to search.

"You've been looking for it for a long time, but you haven't found any trace of it..."

He was silent for a while, then curled his lips in relief, "It's okay, we'll definitely meet again next time."

"Very good, remember this feeling now." The teacher's voice could not hide his excitement, "You did not follow the public's logic to express your loss, but followed your true feelings. Those are the feelings you want, remember?"

Before he finished speaking, a sharp cry passed through the sky--

Kiro subconsciously closed his eyes and raised his head. At the same time, the teacher also spoke vigorously, "There's a Swift flying across the sky right now!"

"Swift..?"

"Yes, it's a bird that flies all its life."

"Because of their body structure, it's difficult for them to take off once they stop, so they only stop on branches to rest."

"Do you want to keep flying?"

The teacher smiled lightly, "Since we're curious about it, let's go and see its life."

"Now imagine that you are it. Your body is very light, and countless sceneries pass your feet. You just watch them from winter to spring, from dry to blooming, never stopping."

Kiro gently opened his arms. Under the guidance of the teacher, his arms gradually became sore, as if there were thousands of pounds of stones pressing on them.

"You'll also grow tired during this period. Looking at every corner of the city, there is no resting place for you to take off again."

Kiro suddenly felt uncomfortable. He found that he and the Swift were very similar.

They have always been on the road. Although there had been very beautiful places to sing and see along the way, when they said goodbye again, they would be greeted by an endless flight.

But--

"It doesn't matter, I can persist."

Kiro said in his heart.

"I'll keep flying until I find a place where I can rest peacefully and then stop."

[Chapter 4: First Show of Strength]

After repeated training, Kiro became more empathetic.

Even with the scorching sun above his head, he could be so cold that he would tremble all over, huddled in a corner waiting for the snow mountaineering team; or he could stand on flat ground, but there could be an abyss beneath his feet, making him feel dizzy, struggling hard on the edge of the cliff.

His heart was now able to deceive his eyes and brain with ease.

"Kiro, Kiro!"

Kiro, who had just finished training, saw Savin running towards him in a hurry, holding a suit of armor and carrying a red tassel gun.

"What is this, Savin?"

"The actor playing the young Sun Ce in "Three Kingdoms", temporarily broke the contract due to scheduling issues, so we're going to audition now."

"Three Kingdoms?"

"You must know that this is a production worth hundreds of millions. If you can get this role, it would be better than acting in ten other unknown works."

Savin shook the armor as he spoke, causing the fine dust covering it to sway. "Ahem! This is a costume taken from the company's warehouse. Let's make do with it for now."

"If your mixed-race looks go directly for the auditions, you'll definitely suffer a big loss, so let's take care of your hair first before going over." He took out a black wig from the helmet and quickly combed it with his fingers, "We can't miss out on the wig and contact lenses..."

Savin's rare rushed appearance made Kiro confused, so when he saw that the wig was about to cover him, he subconsciously tilted his head to avoid it.

"Savin, what is the Three Kingdoms? Why do I have to wear these? Do I need to act in a costume film?

"You kid..! Have you heard of the Four Great Classics? Do you know the romance of the Three Kingdoms? That's the story in it."

"I've heard of it, but I haven't even read the scripts, so can I just go directly to the auditions?" Before he finished speaking, the hairband was placed on Kiro's head with lightning speed.

"You can't control that much. Just try it."

After getting his hair done, Savin picked up the armor and put it on for him, one by one. At that moment, the teacher who had been sitting on the wooden chair also slowly said, "I remember you said that your dream when you were a child was to be a superhero. Now I tell you, Sun Ce is also a hero. So it doesn't matter if you don't know his life, just remember that he is a a hero who is not afraid of anything."

These words began to play in Kiro's mind over and over again, until he arrived at the shooting scene with Savin. The director improvised an audition topic--

"You are now fighting a battle with less to win more, but because you have no escape, you are fearless."

Along with his words, flags were flying on the distant city wall, and wolf smoke was also billowing. Kiro looked at all of it this, and his heart remained very calm. Although he didn't know what the Three Kingdoms was about, he knew what a hero was.

The next second, he walked to a white horse, holding a red tassed gun in his hand, and jumped on it.

The workers around him were hurriedly moving their filming equipment, but in Kiro's ears, he could hear the sound of horns roaring, and the sound of thousands of horse hooves trampling behind him.

At that moment, Kiro was convinced that he was on the battlefield.

Amidst a horse's cry that pierced the sky, he loosened his reins and galloped forward, riding into the wolf smoke that was about to engulf the world. There were only a bunch of red tassels, as bright as a torch. Even the beacon of fire in the sky couldn't annihilate it, as if it were soaring into the sky.

--"All officers and men, listen to my order and join me on the battlefield."

[Chapter 5: Forgotten Birthday]

He got the role of Sun Ce. In addition to receiving congratulations from all around, he also heard some nasty remarks--

"A mixed-race guy with blond hair and blue eyes wants to play a famous historical figure. Isn't there something fishy about this?"

It would be a lie to say he didn't care, but Kiro also knew the distance between himself and Sun Ce. He began to frequent the library and borrowed one history book after another, but found that the words were concise and difficult to understand. He ran to ask Savin and found that they were classical Chinese texts, written articles in ancient Chinese.

He had no choice but to borrow another classical Chinese dictionary and compare it word by word. After a long time, in his dreams, he would be wearing a robe and looking at a bottle of Coke that was as tall as a human being, shaking its head and saying something.

"Ran, ran."

But due to the language barrier, coke was sprayed all over him, which made him wake up.

There were many such interesting things, which made him enjoy the learning. But the more he got to know Sun Ce, the more Kiro discovered that in his eyes, this man could not completely be called a hero. He was just forced to be involved in the mud of history, especially since the death of his father. How many decisions had he made, and how many goals did he really want to achieve?

With that mentality, the filming of the scene about the young Sun Ce began--

"Kiro, isn't the helmet a little tight? But it's too late to customize it. Please bear with me."

"It's okay, director. This is nothing to me."

"Kiro, there are some risks in this fight scene. If you can't adapt, we can find a substitute."

"...I think if I do it myself, the effect will be better."

In addition to constant contact with the filming scene, the director would also patiently point how people in ancient times spoke, behaved, and pronounced.

It's just that there were so many things to learn. So whenever the filming ended, he would sit in a corner alone and watch and learn.

Days like this went on and on. Then one day, a small change occurred--

"Happy Birthday, Kiro! I got this on the internet."

At that moment, the director who had been looking at the storyboard also heard the sound and put down what he was holding, "Kiro, happy birthday."

"....."

"Why are you just blinking and not talking? Is it because you were so lost during filming that you don't even remember your birthday?" The director teased, then raised his hand to look at the time and called for the makeup artist to come over.

"Time is tight. Take him to put on his makeup first."

Kiro didn't say anything more and left with the makeup artist.

But on the way, he took out his mobile phone as if to confirm--

April 9th. He was so busy that he had forgotten about it.

[Chapter 6: Stopped Swift]

"Okay, cut! This fight scene was great!"

"Would you like to do it again? There were a few movements I could've done better..."

The director smiled and waved his hand, "No, I liked the energy you had just now. Not ruthless, just high-spirited. And isn't it your birthday today? Go back quickly."

"It's okay, director. I want to stay for a while to observe and learn."

Kiro shook his head quickly. There was a highlight today and he didn't want to miss the confrontation between "Zhuge Liang" and "Sima Yi".

"It's okay. Don't think about it, your friends and family are all waiting to surprise you." The director deliberately frowned, half-pushed Kiro, and asked him to leave the set.

After taking off his armor, Kiro walked lightly on the crowded streets. At that moment, he suddenly felt as though he were back in California. At that time, he had no place he wanted to go and walked one road after another. What had changed today? He obviously wanted to stay on set to study today, but why did he still have to "wander" outside?

Was celebrating a birthday really necessary?

Why couldn't he just spend the day sitting in a corner of the set and watching?

Do we have to buy a cake and sing happy birthday to make this day not go by in vain?

A series of self-questions made him stop and sit on a bench, feeling discouraged.

Let's get over this day quickly... When it's over, you can stay at the filming site with confidence.

While he was convincing himself, a girl carrying a schoolbag and her mother walked past, hand in hand. The mother was wearing a floral skirt, carrying a shopping bag in her right hand. The scallions sticking out of her bag swayed with her footsteps.

What was more beautiful than the sunset were the ordinary human fireworks.

Then, he laughed and rubbed his head.

Kiro, what are you being pretentious about? You have two choices now: First, go buy a cake for your birthday; second, go back and do some weight-training, and then fall asleep from exhaustion.

Just as he was making a decision in his mind, a white nanny car stopped in front of him.

"What are you doing here, kid? Get in the car."

He looked at Savin who rolled down the window in surprise. His mind went blank for a moment, so much so that he didn't even remember how he got in the car. When he regained consciousness, he already had a gift box in his arms.

"Happy birthday," Savin said with a smile. "I originally wanted to give it to you in the morning, but the company's kept me busy with work. I finally finished it and was about to send you home..."

"The director told me you had left, but why were you still sitting here?"

"...I was sitting here to observe life."

Kiro tried explaining things, but what he got in return was Savin's blank stare.

"That's not important. I'm here to tell you some good news. It might be your best gift today."

With that said, Savin took out a document from the side and handed it to Kiro, "The director recognizes you very much and has recommended you to senior directors everywhere. This is an audition invitation sent by them. Basically, you're the protagonist."

"From my professional point of view, starting from the young Sun Ce this time," Savin became more and more enthusiastic as he spoke. Because he was speaking too fast, his face turned red.

"It won't be too long before you become a superstar, because you were born to be one!"

Faced with such powerful acknowledgment, Kiro didn't know what to say for a while.

Music and performing have always been his dreams, but he didn't know how many people would like his abilities.

Ten thousand? One hundred thousand? One million?

He didn't know.

He just opened the folder in silence, looking at the audition requirements, thinking quickly about how to feel so that he could express those characters more realistically.

But what was certain now was that in the face of those demands, he was no longer as overwhelmed as he was two months ago.

Maybe he had gradually adapted to this city. Just like France and California... he would find his own place in this huge city.

Suddenly, a swift black shadow passed through his peripheral vision, and Kiro subconsciously raised his head and looked out the window.

A bird was sitting on a high branch.

--It was a Swift.

Translation Masterlist: here

Kiro's Habitat Date: HERE

[blowflyfag]

WWF RAW MAGAZINE: JUNE 2001

The RAW Interview 

By Keith Elliot Greenberg

The Extreme Truth

Paul Heyman Pulls No Punches as he Reveals the Roots of “Hardcore”

(Part One)

Not long ago, World Wrestling Federation fans were astonished to turn on Raw Is War, and see none other than Paul Heyman sitting in the commentator’s chair. Since 1993, Heyman–also known as Paul E. Dangerously–had been the brains behind Extreme Championship Wrestling (ECW), an organization known for outrageous storylines and thrilling action. Through the years, some of the most gifted performers in the business–among them, Mick “Mankind” foley, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Chris Benoit, Tazz and the Dudleyz–got their seasoning in ECW, and many believe that the renegade group helped inspire the World Wrestling Federation’s edgy age of “Attitude.”

For much of the last year, Heyman struggled to keep his promotion alive, sometimes with the help of World Wrestling Federation-provided talent on his shows. But in early 2001, he realized he’d fought as hard as he could. When Jerry “The King” Lawler walked away from the World Wrestling Federation, Heyman found himself calling matches of the Federation, alongside Jim “J.R.” Ross.

RAW Magazine: Tell me about when you discovered that you’d be replacing Jerry Lawler on Raw Is War.

Paul Heyman: Actually, I thought it was a rib on me when they asked me to do it. I had no desire to be on camera. I get a much bigger thrill being behind the scenes. And I think the fact that I kept myself off camera so much in my own promotion is a testament to the fact that I truly don’t want to be an on-air personality. I was negotiating with the World Wrestling Federation when the company released Stacy Carter (The Kat), and her husband Jerry Lawler walked out on her behalf. When they told me they wanted me to sit in the commentator’s chair, I didn’t believe it. I haven’t been a commentator since October 1991, when I was in World Championship Wrestling (WCW). And I just couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to put a fat, bald, 35-year-old Jew on the air. It didn’t make sense to me… until 8:57 p.m., when they sent me out to the ring.

[“When the decision was made to take all wrestling stuff off Turner Broadcasting, I knew that, despite our efforts, the death knell was sounding for ECW. The fight was over. It was time to call it a day, and join the World Wrestling Federation.”]

RAW: In the weeks leading to your appearance on Raw, there were rumors about your last-ditch efforts to save ECW. How did you finally decide that it was time to come to the World Wrestling Federation? 

Heyman: I’ve been a longtime acquaintance of the McMahon family. It’s kind of like in the movie Almost Famous. I B.S.’ed my way into the back of Madison Square Garden right after my 14th birthday. When ECW ran into bad times, there was so much support from the World Wrestling Federation, offers of advice, talent and promotion from the very top of the organization all the way down to just people volunteering production services on their off-hours. It was a no-brainer for me. WCW was never even a consideration because, quite honestly, they were structured to fail. Had WCW been taken off the Turner networks, we hoped we might be able to replace them. But when the decision was made to take all wrestling off Turner Broadcasting, I knew that, despite our efforts, the death knell was sounding on ECW. The fight was over. It was time to call it a day, and join the World Wrestling Federation.

RAW: Just as, in the 1950s, when Antonio Rocca popularized the flying head scissors and Gorgeous George opened the door to gimmick performers, many fans believe that in the 1990s, the ECW attitude influenced the World Wrestling Federation attitude. Do you concur with that?

Heyman: I would say that it was smart business on everybody’s part to be influenced by us, and study what we were doing right and incorporate it into their own product. We had something very, very special, and it was working. It was creating a situation where we had the most rabidly loyal fan base that many in this industry ever saw. We didn’t have the media exposure to market and promote our product the way the other guys did. So, to me, they were smart to beat us to the punch and bring it to a wider audience. If not, it would have enabled ECW a better wing at the ball in capturing any percentage of market share. 

RAW: Back in 1994, there were people in the World Wrestling Federation who look at the ECW product, and said, “That stuff’s too hardcore. That may work in a bingo hall in Philadelphia, but on a national level no one’s gonna buy it.” I’m sure you heard those comments. So what compelled you to keep pushing the envelope without fear that it was going to explode in your face?

Heyman: We listened to the audience, and the audience was digging it. So we just kept on pushing it because they wanted us to. 

RAW: How did you end up in the dressing room at 14 years old?

Heyman: When I was 13 years old, I’d go to Madison Square Garden with my zoom lens, take pictures of the matches, and then trade those photos with people all over the country. It was an expensive hobby because I had to reproduce so many pictures. So I started putting together a newsletter with everyone’s photos and match results. I was having a blast, the time of my life, and I wanted to get some interviews. I was tired of taking zoom-lens pictures with the ropes in the way. I wanted to go backstage and take photos of the wrestlers there. Now, I might have had pimples and braces, but I also had a deep voice. And I B.S.’ed my way on the telephone, and finally got a hold of Vince McMahon, Sr. [father of current owner Vince McMahon]. He arranged for me to get a press pass for Madison Square Garden. I just acted like I belonged, and I guess they believed that I did. I gave a picture of Andre the Giant that I had taken to Vince, Sr., and he gave me $50 for it. And every month after that, I showed up with my press pass and got in. I ended up getting to know everybody, and just became part of the scene. 

RAW: Did you always believe in your heart that you’d be in the World Wrestling Federation at some point?

Heyman: I never really thought about it. I’ve never taken the time to sit down and wonder what comes next. I see TV executives do that all the time, and I hate their guts for it because they’ll make decisions that are based on future political ramifications instead of what’s right for their organizations. I just wanted to put 100 percent into whatever I did. So I never really thought that I would end up here. It’s been close several times through my career. But for one reason or another, I always ended up doing something else. I have a different perspective coming here at age 35 than I would have had if I came here when I was 24. I’m glad I had a chance to grow up outside the structure of the WWF because it enables me, at 35, to bring an old man’s experience but a young man’s enthusiasm to the table. 

RAW: When did you make the transition from being a photographer to being a participant?

Heyman: I was editing one of the wrestling magazines in 1985 and 1986. And I also was doing work at [New York nightclub] Studio 54, doing publicity, promotions and producing shows–kind of like ECW. IN April 1986, Studio closed due to insurance problems. Suddenly I found myself out of work, so I began working on independent wrestling shows in the Northeast. In January 1987, I started working at the old wrestling territory in Florida. From there, I went to Memphis. And from there I went to the [now-defunct] American Wrestling Alliance (AWA). Everything just took off like a rocket for me. 

RAW: It’s one thing to take pictures at ringside, it’s another thing to take bumps in the ring. How did you learn to make that change?

Heyman: I didn’t learn how to do it at all. I loved performing. It was a fantasy come true. And I just went out there and did it with no formal training, figuring things out along the way–like a real schmuck.

RAW: It’s no secret that, back in the days of the regional wrestling territories, some promoters didn’t treat the fans like they were intelligent. Did you learn from their mistakes?

Heyman: ECW was a very fan-friendly promotion. We believed in talking to and with our audience instead of at them and thinking that we were above them. I didn’t buy into the mentality some other promoters had. 

RAW: In Memphis in 1987, you were involved in a very famous altercation with the man you replaced in the World Wrestling Federation, Jerry Lawler. 

Heyman: It was the first time Lawler lost a hair match. I was Austin Idol’s manager and, in the middle of his match with Lawler, Tommy Rich–who had been hiding under the ring all day–came out and gave Lawler a piledriver after the referee got knocked on his ass. And Idol pinned Lawler. Then, they let me into the cage, and we proceeded to shave the head of the hometown hero, Jerry “the King” Lawler.

RAW: And the fans really seemed ready to riot?

Heyman: They did. It took us 45 minutes to get out of the cage. The cops couldn’t get to us, and we couldn't get out of the cage. People were literally climbing the cage to get in. And Tommy Rich was swinging a chair to bat them down. I was just 21 years old and stupid–I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. Meanwhile, I’m starting to realize, “Hey, why are the cops standing all the way back there? And why haven't they gotten to the ring yet?” And I realized it was because they couldn’t get to us. I was too excited to be scared.

RAW: And it was Tommy Rich who helped get you into the AWA?

Heyman: Yeah, he got a job there and mentioned that there was this young guy he knew who no one had seen on a national level. The AWA was on [TV] daily on ESPN at the time. The Gagnes [AWA owners Verne and Greg Gagne] were hesitant to use me because I'd been a photographer.

RAW: Why was that a problem? Did they think that you weren’t a professional manager?

Heyman: I really can’t identify the mindset, simply because I’m happy to state that in my life, I don’t think that I’ve ever been that stupid. 

So I said to them, “Here’s what I'll do” I’ll buy a ticket to the TV tapings on my own. And if you like my shtick, give me back the plane ticket money and tell me that I have a job. If you don’t, I'll pack my bags and leave; the ticket’s on me and thank you for the opportunity.”

[“We brought in Sabu, then Tazz, and then Tommy Dreamer… (ECW) just gave the people a quality show, and it caught on. We could see the movement gaining momentum, and I decided to stick with it.”]

RAW: So you go out there, and you get heat?

Heyman: Yeah, kinda.

RAW: So did the Gagnes say, “Fine, you can stay”?

Heyman: Yeah, I walked to the dressing room, was handed my plane ticket money and told, “You got a job.”

RAW: Then you got national exposure?

Heyman: Yes.

RAW: And that led to you appearing in ECW?

Heyman: Right, I left Verne [Gagne] right before New Year’s Eve in ‘87, and spent the next 10 months working a little bit for Jerry Blackwell’s promotion in Georgia. Then I was Eddie Gilbert’s assistant booker in Alabama, while i was booking a new promotion out of Chicago called Windy City Wrestling. In WCW, Tully [Blanchard] and Arn [Anderson] had just left for the World Wrestling Federation, and the new Midnight Express [Bobby Eaton and Stan Lane] needed someone new to work with. So I came in with the Original Midnight Express [Dennis Condrey and Randy Rose, who’d previously used the name} for a Midnight vs. Midnight feud. And we started there the day that Ted Turner took over the company.

RAW: But what was significant about that was that fans weren’t sure if this was a storyline or the real thing. The announcers had said, “These guys [Condrey and Rose] don’t even work for WCW.”

Heyman: Very much. It was a lot like the things we did in ECW. Fans weren’t sure where the story ended and reality began.

RAW: Let’s hear about the roots of ECW.

Heyman: In 1993, my old friend Eddie Gilbert was living in Philadelphia, putting together Eastern Championship Wrestling with Tod Gordon. Eddie asked me to come down a few days a month and help him produce promos and teach some guys different interview skills and stuff like that. I always loved to work with talent.  When Eddie and Tod had a falling out, Tod was left in a bad jam. And he asked me as a favor to help him. I came in and took over the creative end on September 18, 1993. And he asked me if I would do it a little longer while he got his legs underneath him. And I started producing characters like the Public Enemy. We brought in Sabu, then Taz, and then Tommy Dreamer. And we gave a young announcer named Joey Styles his first exposure and turned Shane Douglas into “The Franchise.” We just gave the people a quality show, and it caught on. We could just see the movement gaining momentum, and I decided to stick with it. 

RAW: How did Eastern Championship Wrestling become Extreme Championship Wrestling?

Heyman: Even after the NWA (National Wrestling Alliance) ended its close association with WCW, the NWA continued to exist. It was mainly a group of small promoters around the country. And there were some members of the board of the NWA who kept trying to stop ECW’s progress. So the decision was made in 1994 to promote the next NWA world heavyweight championship tournament at the ECW Arena [in Philadelphia]. And the decision was made that Shane Douglas would get the belt. At that time, we made the decision that the NWA was truly a dead organization, and this was our chance to do something that we’d never done. We would declare the past dead and say, “This Is a whole new beginning. We’re gonna break all the conventions and trash all the rules. And look out world, here we come.” We took the risk of alienating ourselves from the rest of the wrestling industry, which we did. 

Shane beat Too Cold Scorpio in the final. And then he threw down the NWA title in the ring. He didn’t throw it into a garbage can, as many people later claimed. And [NWA president] Dennis Coralluzzo came in the back and asked what was going on. We said Shane was the champion, whether he wanted him to be champion or not. 

When out TV show aired, he was introduced as our new ECW champion. But we weren’t Eastern Championship Wrestling anymore, and we weren’t the NWA. We were Extreme Championship Wrestling. And the way the business would be propelled into the future would now be labeled “extreme.”

[Part Two of the Paul Heyman interview will appear in the July issue of RAW Magazine, on sale June 26.]

[storyofmychoices]

Blades 2 Inside Choices Blog: Blades of Light and Shadow 2

We’re so happy to be back in action with the gang we know and love! Where does Blades of Light and Shadow 2 pick up after the first book’s ending?

Emi: I will say that we don't pick up where you're expecting. 

Kathleen: Unless you were expecting to get hucked out the back of the plot truck and onto the action highway at 80mph. (Fury Road theme plays)

Lil: (is overtaken by the Two Towers theme)

Emi: But rest assured, our original four love interests are back and dealing with their own challenges. 

Lil: And they’re definitely going to need help with those challenges whether you’re romancing them or not. Though we support all variations of ‘mancers here. Mono-, multi-, and necro- . 

Emi: Also they get some new looks that can best be described as "sleeves are B.S."

Jay: Don’t forget “badass pirate coat important”.

What kind of new main characters will we meet in the sequel? Or perhaps, any new love interests?

Jay: There is a strange but familiar hooded figure…whose hotness level was of great discussion.

Lil: He’s very constructive with his feedback. And a monster from Book 1 returns, but not in a way you expect. 

Emi: I think we all know I'm obsessed with Valax. I mean, she's a badass purple lady who only has one sleeve. Obviously that makes her my wife.

Tom: EMI YOU HAVE TOO MANY WIVES!!!

Kathleen: Idk I'm still mad that hot scorpion lady didn't win the monster contest.

Lil: Sky whale supremacy how dare. 

Kathleen: Okay I am excited about the dwarves and goblins though. New dwarf friend is just A+ chaos babe and I love her.

Emi: Honestly though, my fave character is the one who's "head empty, no thoughts, falls over a lot."

Making this sequel has been a labor of love. Does the book team have any must-tell stories/bloopers during production?

Jay: There was an accidental floating dwarf? And too many battles with code. Writers, please don’t do it to me again. I cannot take it. The while loop will win.

Kathleen: During one of my editorial passes I had to give Emi a note like "Okay when we first meet the Big Bad maybe we should use that moment to establish that she's really imposing/scary instead of just going off about how hot she is."

Emi: I may have made too many Aerin memes that are now weekly traditions for our team.

Danielle: I was instructed to design a character with “Vision as a hotness bar” as a guide, I ignored them and used Jeff Bridges instead 😏. 

Jay: Danielle also came up with some incredible filenames, my favorite being “tentacle_monster_buff”.

Danielle: It’s accurate, is it not?

Are there any elements that you are particularly proud of?

Tom: The Shadow Realm was fun to make! Think the Upside Down, but more purple. And to make all the awesome new weapons and armor work with the outfits took 150 unique assets! You’re welcome.

Danielle: My first full book!

Lil: The lore guide for Blades was 60 single-spaced pages before we started adding things that came up during active production. I’m really pleased with how much actually ended up being discoverable in the book itself, so be sure to explore every nook and cranny of Morella and beyond! Because they are filled with beauty and chaos. 

Emi: I cannot tell you how many spreadsheets we made to keep track of things. I mean, the outline alone was 100 pages!

Jay: My code built 😭. And that my production planning got it to you a little earlier than y’all had anticipated hehe.

At the end of the first book, we seemed to have wiped out the forces of evil for at least a day or so. What kind of dangers will we face in the second edition?

Lil: Evil never sleeps y’all. It gets its coffee from Aerin. 

Kathleen: (Aerin, walking up to the counter): "I have a large non-fat birthday cake latte with caramel drizzle and four shots of espresso for (squints at label) ...Emile?"

Lil: In all seriousness, you’re really getting it from all sides in this book. There’s rival factions, shifting leadership, societal upheaval, and monsters. So. Many. Monsters. (Thank you for giving us the Shadestalker, by the way. Can’t wait for you to meet the beefy boy.) 

Kathleen: One cool scary thing about book 2 is that THIS TIME, IT'S PERSONAL (like instead of you and your buds racing against bad guys to collect the magic things, you've now got a villain single-mindedly hunting you down so she can steal your <REDACTED> for use in her evil plans).

Emi: Kathleen may have called me out for it but our Big Bad is hot! Both literally and figuratively!

How much do you love QA?

Lil: SO MUCH.

Emi: Pour one out for our poor QA folks who have had to test what is the most complex book we have ever done! You are the real heroes!

Jay: QA peeps are my saviors!! Their work alone cures my anxiety.

Kathleen: Gawd I would be lost without QA my grammar is a disaster

Erin: Everyone on the Blades team is so wonderful to work with. I also tested Book 1, and to be able to contribute to Book 2 means everything to me. It’s absolutely a labor of love.

We know that years of hard work and passion went into this book. What would the Blades team like the readers to take away from this sequel?

Emi: So Kathleen and I actually helped to brainstorm the entire Blades world back when it first came into being, so it felt like coming full circle to be back and expanding it in new and fun ways. I was already in love with all of these characters and they're even closer to my heart now. I can't wait for you all to see what we've come up with!

Jay: Y’all better like it! This book has taken years off my life. *lies down on floor* (But seriously, we’re as excited about Blades 2 as all of you and hope that it brings as much joy to you as it did for us to make. I think the best word to describe the team as we wait for September 1st is giddy.)

Danielle: I hope you like our art :).

Tom: If you don’t, please keep it to yourself, artists are fragile :’} 

Lil: I was one of the few people who was new at Choices when I began working on this book, and it was truly an honor to see this thing come together. These are the minds that brought you The Crown & the Flame, The Cursed Heart, Wake the Dead, and the first Blades. It was amazing to go from watching them work as a fan to taking this epic journey together. 

Kathleen: THE REAL VILLAIN WAS THE IMPERIALISM WE MADE ALONG THE WAY

Lastly, how much does the team love Aerin?

Kathleen: I DON'T love Aerin he KIDNAPPED my WIFE.

Danielle: Which one…

Emi: Aerin is my sweet baby boi with a little dose of evil. He should be protected at all costs but also really needs to go to therapy. I live for the angst of him and Raine though. It's so juicy.

Danielle: Aerin has caused me, personally, a lot of pain.

Lil: Really, one of the fun things about the book is you can decide how much pain Aerin causes you. Unlike us.

Jay: He haunts my dreams and my Wednesdays.

Danielle: Livid and sad and livid and sad

Thank you team for taking us through the fantastical production journey of the Blades of Light and Shadow 2! We can’t wait to dive in and meet up with the gang. Launch day is so close!! 

Thank you, readers, for supporting us and our book teams!

<3 The Choices Community Team

[snifflesthemouse]

This IS A LONG LONG POST

It’s Odd… one minute we have stories about HRH The Princess of Wales having issues with the King and Queen (i.e. “upstaging” the King and Queen at the Chelsea Flower Show with a “Surprise” visit). Let this author stress something…

When I see a con trick, I see a con trick. It doesn’t matter if the con is being used for good or bad… the tactics of manipulation are the same regardless of the motive. It doesn’t matter how noble your cause may be, if you are manipulating people (using [insert emotion] to gain) then you’re conning people.

Some people are uncomfortable with the idea that some of the best b.s. talking cons are actually beloved figures. People are also uncomfortable with the fact that BOTH CHARLES AND DIANA ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR HARRY. BUT ULTIMATELY, HARRY IS RESPONSIBLE FOR HARRY.

So remember the conning trick I mentioned about “surprise” and “secret”? If not, go back to long ago and re-read. Just kidding, I will remind you. This mouse reminds the lovely readers with pleasure!

This author said that “surprise” anything never happens in the BRF. If that were true EVERY TIME MM said she was making a “SURPRISE VISIT” then it is also true for CATHERINE. That was a strategic move, and we see evidence in what is happening now.

What is all abuzz right now? Lady C, who someone in a higher part of the food chain than this lowly writer (a very well connected source, hello, source, I Hope you read this!) has reported to me has been suggested to support pushing a certain echo chamber for BP, (I can see how it is feasible that Lady C is well connected, but so unconnected she is protected connected. Which explains all the predictions she “made” in the book being somewhat directed). Point is, if Lady C is echoing the whispers being whispered in palace walls… Harry was the one who called divorce attorneys MONTHS AGO.

Remember when this author said what could be so valuable that Meghan would sit out the coronation, yet show up in a pap shot not with her son on his birthday but her friend Marcus Anderson, her known match-maker? It would seem like those MA MM jogging shots were sending the message that she is moving on. Then, she announces she is signed with a new agency… Then we have Harry rushing in and out to look like the doting father re the Coronation.

Then the façade of BP starts to crack. Catherine and Wills didn’t bow to Camilla. Camilla and Charles are mad at Catherine for upstaging them. ALL press pieces, not blind items. It would be smart for BP to fake its own proxy war in order to gain control of a new era and new narrative. They all know that drama is part of the survival. But mainly, it is clear Harry’s self-worth issues also stem from Charles, too.

After all, Diana DID die when he was younger. So Harry is moreso Charles relative than knowing of his mother relative like William. In other words, because Wills had more time with his mom, he has more of her personality imprints on him than Harry would. Harry has more of his father. And all the evidence shows Charles has strong sense of an inflated ego. All the way from coming out in interviews against his mother’s wishes to defend himself and Camilla, to what some would suggest is a big powergrab if you believe the tabloids.

Why would Catherine care who attended Charles’s coronation? She will have her own coronation to plan and decide. Yet these conflict pieces come out like it is meant to stir the drama back inside controllable walls.

A divorce rumor being leaked right at this time seems even more deliberate if you think about recent events, too.

This post is long, I know. Please hold out a bit more I am bringing it all together.

What if the bolt hole stories were leaked to make it look like Harry is a battered spouse trying to stay for the kids, but he has had enough of the manipulation and he is running. This whole bolt hole nonsense gives way to the next stage of the campaign. We’ve already had the kiss cam dodge, the rumors of separate lives, and now two bolt holes, Harry calling divorce lawyers, Meghan banging the body guard, and of course… that Harry wants to go back home. Then losing the security case after the car chase that was staged… oh yeah the car chase

That wasn’t that. What that was was an overexaggerated lie created to distract from something else. Con trick 101 class will teach you to put on a red rubber nose if it distracted the mark long enough to get the job done. What job are they distracting from? Where they were staying.

They didn’t want people seeing where they were staying. This is why the rumors have it that there were cancelations, even them begging for comps from hotels. Always hand open, never head down working!

How is it all related?

EVERTHING WITHIN THIS POST IS HYPOTHETICAL AND OPINION BTW

What if Charles never stopped supporting Harry because they always knew how it would end and they could use the optics to boost Charles’s and Camilla’s approval rating? Here’s how it was to go: Charles continues to secretly keep supporting Harry, even going so far as to go and flood media with pieces to save Harry’s face but drag MM. She figures it out by the time the Queen dies, and she stars separating. Charles gets his wish, as Harry is triggered by Meghan using paranoia to get Harry to trash the family openly. All the while, the plan was to have him do this up until after his book comes out. They’d need Harry and Charles to look so bad and hopeless for it to work.

Right when the whole world thinks Harry is gone forever, divorce rumors drop right around the time rumors about Catherine and Camilla beefing (which I suspect are planted fakes because why would Catherine care as she will have her own coronation). All of a sudden, a Hurting Harry Limps Back to King Chas is all over the news. Harry is back in the UK. Is it to file for divorce? There are no court cases active? Why is he home? Is the king sick? Is it the titles? All kinds of rumors will fly. You will see MM retaliation, too. That H was on drugs, abusive, etc. Whatever to make it extreme.

Finally, Camilla and Catherine work together to convince Wills and Charles to let Harry come back. She gets a ton of cash, the titles within limitation, and the “kids” are to be “kept tucked out of sight out of mind as much as possible”. Bet this was her bargaining chip at the coronation. Bet.

They are in containment mode people. They risk MM exposing Charles supporting them if the rumors are true. People would lose it if they knew Charles was still giving him money if the rumors are true (again HI, source!). But I could totally see the whole family being so cold hearted and ruthless at this point from all the drama that they would allow this divorce to play out as dirty as need be as long as Charles gets to claim the title of returing “Old Harry” back to his loving fans.

Gotta go. Sorry so long!