#I like jokes about bill being a salty ex

[notice-pocus]

Another snapcube and gravity falls video, but i made an animatic out of it.

Hope you enjoy!

[munsnz]

Sand — Steve Harrington

TW: Cussing ??

Summary: Where plans were canceled with your best friend, bringing along you and her ex together aka Steve Harrington, remembering the huge dick he was in high school. Perhaps in the span of one day, you catch feelings for him but during a fun activity leads you and Steve together.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader

Lydineo Radio: Let The Sun In — Wallows

Masterlist — Requests are open!

“I thought Nancy was coming,” You mumbled as you walked towards Steve Harrington’s car, where he wore a pair of his black sunglasses along with a summer blouse, leaning against his car. You and Nancy both planned to head on over to the beach, somehow convinced that Steve was going as well, even if they broke up. It had been a year since the mall burned down due to a mysterious cause, now it was another boring summer all over again.

He smiled a little as he saw you trudge over to him, “Plans were changed little one.” Steve pat you on the head, making you feel like a child and you smacked his hand away from your head.

”Ew don’t touch me,” you groaned and crossed your arms as you stepped away from him. He laughs at the funny gesture and takes his shades off to show his chestnut colored eyes into the open. “So what are we supposed to do?”

”We can......” Steve trailed off, looking at you, “I don’t really know, we can both go?”

You cringed at his words and statement, giving a funny expression playing at your face, “Steve...... I hope you’re kidding me. I don’t even know you much. All I know is that you’re Dustin’s friend and you worked at the mall.”

”I see you’ve watched me huh?” He chuckles at your response and cheekily leans over closer to you, “Guess my beauty- Ow!” He groans to see you step over his shoe, to make him shut up.

”Look, Harrington,” You snap at him, while you take his glasses away from his hands and put them on your face, “I cancelled all my shit plans to come to this little stupid trip Nancy told me and I’m still going, but I’m not gonna let your dumb ego stop me.”

Steve rapidly shakes his head at your orders and ruffles his hair a little being in front of you, a sort of tint of pink welled up on his cheeks. Was he blushing? Seeing him at such flustered state, you rolled your eyes to walk inside the passenger’s seat of his car.

“So are we going-“

”Get in......Asshole,” You smile at him as you shoot a glare at him, making him follow your directions to sit into the driver’s seat next to you.

He sighs a little and turns to you while he turns on the car, “You know Y/N...... you’re a little scarier than I thought.”

Scoffing at such remark, you punch his shoulder, making him laugh nervously, “I’m sorry but I’m not usually this scary.”

”Oh thank-“

You shot a glare at him again, he jumped and turned to the steering wheel. “So where we off to? Maybe we could grab a bite before we go?”

”Sure that’s fine,” You crossed your arms and huffed, this trip was going to be one shitshow for sure knowing you had to be stuck with Steve Harrington.

-

”How come I’ve never heard about you at school?” Steve asks as he sips down the last of his milkshake, watching you, fidgeting with your fingers.

Looking up at him, you claimed while laughing, “Well, you were too busy with popularity. I was just a shadow!” You noticed his eyes turn away from you and you sighed, “I hope you’re not like that anymore. Or are you?”

He shakes his head at your question, being able to express that he was no longer that douchebag he was in high school, “No not anymore. Not everything is about popularity.”

”You learned it the hard way huh?”

Steve nods his head at your claim. It seemed like you could read Steve by his expressions and words he spoke. You had never and I mean never have spoken to Steve Harrington prior to the school you both attended to. Just click. It did.

”How do you know me so well Y/N?” He pondered, while getting up from the table, sliding the money onto the bill for the waitress, “We just met and you read me like a book.”

”I don’t know,” You get up along with him, and both walk outside to find that it was already 4 pm, “Oh shit, it’s late.”

”It’s really intriguing to talk to you,” He blurts out, while walking to his car. You looked up at him, with widened eyes, “I-I mean we took around two hours talking to each other.”

You glanced at him, shuffling over inside his car to avoid any eye contact with you. As you came inside the car, he turned it on, driving to the south where the small beach was near.

-

The wind blew on your face, sending your hair all over the place as you got out of Steve’s car. Somehow a bit of hair got into your mouth and you began to choke but calmed down, whipping the bit of hair out of your mouth. You watched from afar the tides came in and out at the sandy beach located a few towns away from Hawkins. The air began to cool, meaning the sun was going to set anytime soon.

”I guess you’re not much of a beach or summer person right?” Steve calls out from behind you, making you look at him.

He read you correctly this time and you joked, “It’s my job to read you, not yours.” Both of you grabbed a picnic blanket from his trunk and began to walk to the beach area. You slid your shoes off, to place your feet in the thick, warm, sand as Steve followed the same thing like you. In the windy silence, you both laid the towel under you. Getting comfortable, Steve turned on the radio, faintly playing Higher Love by Steve Windows (coincidence? I think not), there wasn’t that much people at the beach that same day. A couple of kids who were playing in the waves from afar, but that was only it. Another driven silence began, but bored out of your mind, you decided to take off your crew neck, where your bathing suit was under and head to the water.

Doing such action in front of him, Steve felt flustered watching you slide your sweater off your body, “Something bothering you Harrington?” You laughed at him, to stand up and lend your hand towards him.

”I.....” Steve trails off, grabbing your hand to stand up and run towards the water, “Last one there is a rotten egg!”

”You’re such a child, Steve!” You giggled and followed him to the tide running in and out. You were sadly the last one that got there, being splashed water at your face by him, “You’re gonna regret that Harrington!”

“I’d like to see you try Y/N!”

-

Who knew you were chasing Steve Harrington across the water to see him being thrown by the wave crashing, sending him underwater. He comes back to the surface to find you next to him, splashing water in his face, getting back at him.

”I told you I’d get you,” You paddled your feet to keep you at the surface, smiling at him to find his ‘perfect’ hair ruined in front of you.

But as you watched him squint his eyes because of the water in them. You felt something touch your leg, making you quiver, “Ah!” You shouted as you rapidly threw your arms around him, unaware of who you were holding on to. Caught off guard, Steve feels his heart skip a beat, feeling your skin on his, sending you both underwater and back up to the surface.

”What’s wrong?!” He exclaims, blabbing out the salty water that accidentally went into his mouth, while grabbing you too.

”I felt something on my leg,” You look around at the body of water around you, still latched onto him. Freezing in your position, the only sound you both heard was of the ocean, nothing else happened. But slowly realizing who you were hung onto, you watch him awkwardly to find him holding you as well, bringing a whole feeling of nervousness. Letting go, although you didn’t want to.

“Karma,” He chuckles silently, and covers his mouth. Realizing your stupidity, it was just seaweed roaming around. You move your hair out of your face and begin to swim away from him, but felt a slight tug by your waist, guessing who it was you paddled away faster and giggled even more.

Now here was the place you were going to have a lifetime with this guy you barely know. This new friend of yours seemed like someone you have known for years on end. Just something about it, clicked.

-

After a shit ton of messing around and unintentionally flirting with each other, you grew exhausted. The swimming and running all over the place drains one out. Now you were splurged onto the warm sand, with a ton of mixed emotions everywhere, eager to try something different.

”This may sound weird but you’re cool.”

”I know I am,” Steve scoffs, laying shirtless under the towel and crossed his legs while you sat up, dusting the sand away from the seashells you both found lying beneath the sand. Another silence grew, the sound of the waves become louder, you were in the reality instead of that pretty daydream with him. You weren’t attracted to Steve. Correct?

Of course you were though, shockingly. But with such courage you sighed, watching the sunset turn into a deep shade of orange and purple, “Wanna do something weird?”

”I like weird,” Steve sits up, placing his arm onto his bent knee, “Tell me.”

You had never been such an outgoing or confident person, it seemed like you were more into the shy part of things. As you breathed out, you mumbled, “How about if we talk about the person we like the most? We write it down in the sand, and run away.”

”That’s weird.”

Whilst you were annoyed, you furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Steve I just said it’s weird-“

”I know I know,” He says, standing up and grabbing a stick from far away, “What are you waiting for?”

-

Scribbling an S, then a T and E, V, E, you finished, but panicked slightly knowing he probably didn’t like you. And no, it wasn’t a cliche thing. Or was it?

”I’m done,” You hear Steve’s voice make you jump nervously, signaling this would most likely be the end of your friendship. Wow, just one day in and poof! There goes another bond away from your life.

“Let me look at it first!”

Fear in his voice, he almost shoved you to turn away from the only letter you saw, “Hey! No I go first!”

”No let me!” You pushed him a little and jumped to look over his shoulder, but he was too quick and moved enough to block your sight to see the name.

In a fight, you still couldn’t see the pair of letters, and pushed each other around, in fear to know the other’s reaction of it.

“Asshole just let me-“

Oh God.

That boy knows.

He saw his name written, from behind your short height. Oh shit you were doomed for sure. It was surely impossible to love someone by day one. But this, this was different. Feelings were all over the place, as you noticed his eyes widened at the sight of the letter that spelled his name out.

You clicked your tongue and flinched a little before you would usually get rejected, “It’s a prank I’m kidding! I’m so funny right?”

Steve awkwardly looks around, putting his arms behind his back and stepped away for you to see YOUR NAME. Oh god you knew it was some prank. You watched and still saw his serious face driven by the silence, perhaps he wasn’t joking.

”Oh man,” You cross your arms, watching the letters printed on the sand being destroyed by the incoming wave, washing it away from existence, “We’re just pranking each other right?”

“Uh-“

”Just say it!” You walk over to him and spin away from him, “We should just go home, it’s getting late anyways.”

”I-“

You continue blabbing more nonsense about your summer and how this idea was just one big mistake. Steve knew you wouldn’t stop anytime soon so he stops you by grabbing your shoulders, catching you off guard. Wide eyed, and flushed face, he mumbles a little, “It’s not a prank, I wouldn’t play with love like that.”

”Love?”

”Yeah......” He trails off, watching you intently at the somewhat attraction he had for you, “I-I uh....I know this is fast. I don’t expect you to say yes which is totally fine I’m sorry I’m rushing this I-“

“I like you too Harrington,” You confidently move away for him to see the letters clearly written STEVE on it. Shocked, Steve snaps out of his thoughts to find you put an arm around him and look at him. “So is this the part where we admit our true feelings then realize we are actually in love after getting to know each other in the span of a day and we kiss under the sunset?”

Steve watched you cheekily grin at him, and nodded slightly, “I suppose-“ He was cut off by your lips pressing onto his, automatically bringing his hands on your waist, holding you closer to his body like glue. Both of you continue to move your lips in sync, realizing, maybe this boring and mistaken trip was all written in the sand.

[offtopicoverload]

how would your ideal LI season go?

oooh thank you anon this was really fun and definitely too long and entirely unrealistic because of all the variables but oh well i had fun lmao

Okay I’m just going to start by talking about LIs

I think one of Season 3’s biggest successes was making AJ available from the start, I think that definitely kept those who play for the girls interested

HOWEVER i also think we need one of each: an AJ, a Talia, and a Marisol

Someone you can couple up with right off the bat, someone that takes a bit of time to warm up, maybe around the halfway mark, and someone that isn’t available til the last or second to last recoupling, maybe because they’re only bicurious or its just in their character to take a while to warm up in general, they spent the season in friendship couples or blowing their shot because they didn’t want to move too quick

I know the amount of LIs in Season 2 is a huge attraction, but it obviously wasn’t maintainable, since so many LIs lost their personality after CA

Again, I think Season 3 did great on ideas, but bad execution on drama and actual plot

So I’d probably keep it about 9, maybe 10

And ideally one of them would be trans, probably a trans guy with top surgery scars. Someone makes a joke on the first day and he explains no problem, is open about it and his experiences, maybe he was kicked out as a teenager and is all about positivity and loving people for who they are because of it

I’m all on board for a enby or gnc character or MC, but I honestly think Love Island’s too binary for someone like that to thrive

OH! And an ace LI that’s probably sex neutral and really comfortable with it. They’re up front with their sexuality but have no problem with how sex-focused Love Island is, like they’re fine with the flirting and intimate stuff, they’re just not attracted at the end of the day

Or have this season’s slowburn female LI be demi? I’m not demi, only ace, so I can’t speak on that experience, but I think that might work pretty well, maybe she goes in knowing she’s demisexual and comes out of it knowing she’s demiromantic too? Id love that but idk

I want to touch on customization too, since there’s nowhere near enough

Definitely body types

I forget who said it, but have the typical thin type, a muscular type, and a plus sized

And don’t get me wrong, I know it’s extra work for the artists, but I personally think it’d be worth, but who knows

Make fantasy hair colours possible - blue, green, purple, pink, silver - with the type of variety S3 had, in a style closer to S2

Also tats! And piercings! Just like a septum or some ear piercing, maybe a lip, nothing too difficult

And allow for actually different personalities and careers

I get that most people who apply are going to be outgoing and influencers, but this is all fake anyway so who cares

Have your personality impact LIs, certain LIs are easier to get hearts with with a certain personality, while others have more negative reactions to that personality

Lot of coding but this is just my make believe, what’s the harm

Okay into each day

Id have 20 days, since I agree that that’s a pretty good sweet spot

And Im definitely on board with MC being a bombshell, but instead of introing her on the first day, Id do the second

First half of the episode is spent as a recap of the first day, 5 couples like usual, let’s call the Islanders Bobby, Harry, Camilo, Bill, Rohan, AJ, Talia, Elladine, Miki, and Erikah, I’ll explain later, it’s pretty much for one single reason each

So MC’s first day is the Islander’s second, she shows up like Lucas & Henrik, before all the Islanders are up, and she has an option to say hi to someone early, add a gem to be upfront about being interested or something, during the second half of the first episode

Second episode starts with all the Islanders finding MC and saying hi, whoever you chose to have a chat with’s partner is kinda salty, if you chose a guy

MC ends the day choosing between any of the guys and two of the girls, AJ and Talia

For the guys, like Season 3, three are endgame, ones a red herring like Rohan in Season 1, and one’s up front about it being a friendship couple from the start, since I definitely think we need actual friendship couples - this friendship couple guy is Bobby, but without the pushy crush

Rohan is initially interested, but like in Season 1, he gives it up after a while

AJ is super into it and happy if you pick her and has no problem with it, while Talia has a “no thanks” thing and makes you pick again

Basically, youre not supposed to pick Talia because she’s not open to that yet, and that tosses you off her route or makes it really difficult to fix, maybe only a few dialogue options over the next few days or a specific personality gets her to forgive you. If you don’t pick her, you can couple up later as normal

Day 2 is like it usually is, you’re LIs original partner starts grafting on your LI if you have a male LI, Bobby doesn’t care if you steal AJ, you just have to have a talk with him and he’s fine

You can attempt to reconcile with their original partner, and if you succeed they’ll stop, if not your LI will step in and tell her he’s not interested

Day 3 finds a whole Villa recouping with a dumping. If you have a female LI, then girls are choosing, and AJ will pick you, however there is no dumping for future numbers sake, I know it doesn’t make much sense for the guys to be safe but whatever

If you have a male LI, the boys are choosing. If youre with Bobby, you get stolen and have to help Bobby decide who to dump.

He’ll always choose to dump Miki, regardless of who your LIs ex was or what you say. His reasoning is that she hasn’t made a connection and she was accidentally mean to him once and this Bobby’s hella sensitive

Bobby kinda struggles with it and has a rough few days - You have the option to be sympathetic and keep him available as a friendship couple option, or be a jerk and lose the option to be in a friendship couple

Day 4 is a bit of a filler day, with a fun challenge and some actual conversations.

You learn about your LI and someone else of your choosing, whether that’s a friend, like Ell or Erikah, or another LI youre romancing, like Talia or another of the guys

This is the first time Talia starts to be honest with MC about maybe fancying her and being open to seeing what happens

Day 5 has bombshells: a guy and a girl. The girl is our Marisol of this season, which can also explain away why she’s so slow to open up, she feels like an outcast since she came late and MC can empathise better than anyone which is how they initially bond

The guy is also a LI, but far more bold than Marisol, he has no trouble grafting in front of MC’s LI and trying to steal her or win her over - I’m just going to call him Lucas

Day 6 has another boys’ choice disaster recouping, but with the threat of a dumping on an AJ route

No matter how you reacted to Lucas’ flirting, he picks MC, whether you were going to couple up with him or not, he still steals you from your LI just like Season 2, for simplicity’s sake

The other couples get mixed up, a Nope-adjacent couple are split up, let’s say Erikah and Camilo, but they don’t make it all about them. One of the girls had been pining after a guy but he chooses someone else even though she’s available (Elladine, but Bobby’s oblivious), the girl Bobby was planning to couple up with gets stolen (Talia, but regardless of your route, she doesn’t fancy him), so he couples with Marisol

On a male LI route there is no dumping because the couples are already even

On an AJ route, Rohan is the deciding factor between AJ and Miki. Miki is always dumped because she was barely involved the past few days and Bill isn’t that interested in her even though they were coupled up

Day 7 is the start of Casa Amor, but much shorter this time. Two of the guys are endgame - let’s say Arjun and Carl, two are interested in other girls - let’s say Graham and Nicky, and there’s one you CAN get with, but cheats and gets dumped later on, essentially a Rocco, and one just isn’t interested, another friendship couple opportunity if you don’t want to share with one of the LIs - let’s say Seb

Day 8 is still Casa, you get to know the boys or can crack on with any of the female LIs, though this is still applicable to Day 7

You get a chance to either commit to AJ further or say you want a break to crack on with someone else

If you reassure her, she’ll pie off all the guys and you can stay on the daybed together, essentially ignoring the disaster recoupling and pretending youre still together. But if you dump her, she’ll crack on with Seb if you’re not paired with him, and Arjun if you are, just as a sort of revenge

During CA you can get closer with Talia, cheeky winks in public and getting kinda nasty during a challenge

You get sneaky scenes with Marisol where you learn where her head is at and how she has a hard time opening up and letting people in. You can reassure her and say you’ll be patient or pie her off and she’ll get with the season’s Graham, though they’ll have a different dynamic and ACTUALLY MAKE SENSE AS A COUPLE

Im sorry but boaty mcboat face and MARISOL?? i just dont get it, im sorry

You can graft on Arjun & Carl, tell them where your head is at, and they’re far less pushy

They try to impress but they’re not like poking you until you tell them you’ll take them back to the Villa like in S2

Day 9 is the final day of Casa, with a stick or switch

You can take back Arjun, Carl, Seb, or Rocco, although Seb is a platonic option but you can pair with him the rest of the season as aromantic representation

AJ never switches to save Rohan, and to be loyal if youre on her route

Talia doesn’t switch no matter the route, she spent Casa just hanging out which honestly isn’t the best idea outside of her route

Erikah switches, because like Season 1 Erikah, her head turns quickly, it’s just a matter of time. She switches to Rocco if you’re not on his route, and Arjun if you are. This is going to absolutely blow up in her face

Elladine switches because she gets worried Bobby will, picks Nicky and they actually get on really well

Marisol switches to Graham if youre not on her route to stay safe again, though they dont last anyway, and sticks if you are because she spent Casa with MC instead of the guys

Bobby sticks cuz Bobby

Harry always switches to someone, let’s call her Cherry cuz why not

Camilo sticks to get back with MC or Erikah - Erikah switched, effectively dumping him and really upsetting him

Rohan switches to someone, lets call her Shannon, no matter the route

Bill always sticks

Lucas switches to someone, lets call her Blake, no matter what, just for simplicity’s sake and because I’m already ripping from S2 so who cares

Day 10 is aftermath, much like Season 2

You can talk with your previous LI, 

Day 11 has a massive dumping where you vote to save a few people

One of the original Villa boys stays, Camilo is the default but if youre on Harry or Bill’s route, they’ll fill his place

Rohan and Bobby survive

If you brought back a Casa boy, you pick between him and Lucas to be dumped 

If you didn’t, Lucas is safe automatically

Rocco/Arjun survive, they’re coupled with Erikah

Either Nicky survives to stay with Elladine or Graham is saved for Marisol if she brought him back, Nicky automatically survives if not

For the girls, Erikah, Elladine, Marisol, and MC are safe

You vote between Cherry, Blake, Shannon on who to save, Shannon is the encouraged option because her and Rohan are actually really cute, but he’ll be nice to any of the girls for the rest of the season

You have to vote between AJ and Talia, sorry queers, i hate it too

Day 12 has a recouping where Talia is finally available if you saved her after everything from Casa Amor

You can reunite with your LI from pre-CA or simply stick to youre CA pick, it’s girls choice, MC is somewhere in the middle

Day 13 has two bombshells - both guys, let’s call them Levi and Tai

Levi grafts hard on MC whereas Tai takes a backseat and MC has to go to him instead if shes interested

Day 14 is a grafting day, you can graft and bond with your LI, Levi, Tai, or Marisol

Day 15 is the second to last recoupling, where you can get with every LI 

If youre romancing Marisol, you have a fight in the morning because she still won’t commit and she hasn’t really had an drama on her route yet

Day 16 is an explosion of drama

It’s another Roccogate but on an even bigger scale

If you’re on Rocco’s route, you suffer the backlash, and if you’re not, Erikah does but it still blows back to MC in order to keep her involved

Rocco makes a move on Erikah when MC’s with him, and MC when Erikah is. If he makes a move on MC, she can reciprocate or blatantly shut him down and Erikah will always reciprocate it when he’s coupled with MC because whaddaya know her head can turn at the littlest thing

If he made a move on MC, she can tell her LI who will chew him out privately, or keep it to herself

They basically get caught in the act by Levi, who doesn’t say anything until the afternoon - a lie detector that reveals a bunch of stuff, ill discuss later

He’s asked if he has any drama and he lies, saying no but eventually spills that Rocco made a move on MC/Erikah, and regardless of whether MC reciprocated or not, he says she did

If MC’s with Rocco, she can attack Erikah until someone steps in, maybe Bobby? Or Arjun? and reasons with her. She can get most of the Villa on her side about Rocco being a prick - except for Levi, no matter what, he’ll always side with Rocco and say it’s part of the show

If MC’s not with Rocco and denied him, her LI will accuse her of lying and she’ll have to essentially win them back by the next day or try and get Rocco to clear her name, which she can if they have a high relationship

And if MC didn’t deny him, her LI will dump her on the spot if they have a low relationship, or still win them back if they have a high relationship - but it will still be remembered

Back to the lie detector

There’s the typical S1 questions, cheating is revealed, you can commit to your LI

BUT 

If youre on a Marisol route, your LI asks you about her and MC has to confess, which drives a rift between her and Marisol because yeah

y i k e s

Day 17 is the final recoupling

Marisol basically storms into the kitchen when MCs making breakfast and says they’re coupling up and just leaves again. MC has the option to be like “yeah okay, chill” and go back to her breakfast or “what the fuck? no” and chase after her and pie her off

If you don’t pie her off, she chooses MC herself, because that scene in S2 is just really cute and I want another

There’s a double dumping of two boys - Levi and Rocco, and you have no say in it

Erikah, MC, or her LI will essentially turn the Villa against Rocco, while a few of the Islanders resent Levi for his take, mainly the girls

It’s a couple vote, and even if you vote for someone else, they still get dumped because they have the most votes

Day 18 is filler and fluff, meet the parents and final dates, with a surprise dumping where you can get a say and can help them pack, but its a strictly platonic goodbye

There’s so many possibilities and I don’t feel like listing them out right now, but it’s a single couple between three at-risk ones

Day 19 another surprise dumping, why not stick with prom? I just really dig the art, and but maybe make it closer to Season 2? And more personalized speeches!!!

And have a Lottie/Hannah moment! 

Idk who all would be here, I don’t feel like listing it out, but I think I have all the dumpings listed below the cut

You can pick between both people dumped who you want to help pack, and can have a moment with either of them, opening a “runaway” option after the finale or reunion

Day 20 is the finale, with the Islanders gossiping and stressing in the morning as some filler content

The afternoon is the announcement, and your placement depends on your couple - If you were loyal the entire time you were with them and have a max relationship you get 1st, if you were loyal but dont have max hearts, you get 2nd, if you weren’t loyal but still have max hearts, you get 3rd, and if you have neither you get 4th

If you win, your LI gets the money no matter what and it’s not based on relationship, it’s based on where in the relationship you are - if MC agreed to be their girlfriend on Day 18, they split the money, and if MC didn’t, then they don’t see a future and keep it

The last episode is the finale party with options to dump your LI for good, make plans to move in, reconcile and explain why MC didn’t say yes on Day 18, or get with someone else entirely

Oh and I want two of the dumped guys to show up together and have started dating outside of the Villa

Cuz I can’t think of another opportunity for mlm in this chaos

This is really messy so I’m going to list out couplings under the cut to try and make sense of this, I think I got everything but probably not its a disaster

LIs

AJ

Day 1 - MC or Bobby or Single

Day 3 - MC or Bobby or Bill

Day 6 - Rohan

Day 9 - Rohan

Day 12 - MC or Bobby or Dumped

Day 14 - MC or Bobby or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Bobby Dumped

Talia

Day 1 - Rohan or Single

Day 3 - Rohan or Bill

Day 6 - Camilo

Day 9 - Camilo

Day 12 - MC or Bobby or Dumped

Day 14 - MC or Bobby or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Bobby Dumped

Marisol

Day 6 - Bobby

Day 9 - Single or Graham

Day 12 - Graham or Harry/Bill/Camilo

Day 14 - Graham or Harry/Bill/Camilo

Day 17 - MC or Graham or Harry/Bill/Camilo

Harry

Day 1 - MC or Elladine

Day 3 - MC or Elladine

Day 6 - Elladine

Day 9 - Cherry

Day 12 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped 

Day 14 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Camilo

Day 1 - MC or Erikah

Day 3 - MC or Erikah

Day 6 - Talia

Day 9 - Talia

Day 12 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 14 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Bill

Day 1 - MC or Miki

Day 3 - MC or Miki or Elladine/Erikah

Day 6 - Erikah

Day 9 - Single

Day 12 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 14 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Lucas

Day 6 - MC or Erikah

Day 9 - MC or Blake

Day 12 - Blake

Day 14 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Erikah or Dumped

Arjun

Day 9 - MC or Erikah or Dumped

Day 12 - MC or Erikah or Dumped

Day 14 - MC or Erikah or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Erikah or Dumped

Carl

Day 9 - MC or Dumped 

Day 12 - MC or Dumped

Day 14 - MC or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Erikah or Dumped

Tai

Day 14 - MC or Single or Elladine

Day 17 - MC or Erikah

Rocco

Day 9 - MC or Erikah

Day 12 - MC or Erikah

Day 14 - MC or Erikah

Day 17 - Dumped

Levi

Day 14 - MC or Single

Day 17 - Dumped

Other Islanders

Elladine

Day 1 - Harry or Single

Day 3 - Harry or Bill

Day 6 - Harry

Day 9 - Nicky or Harry/Camilo/Bill

Day 12 - Nicky or Harry/Camilo/Bill

Day 14 - Nicky or 

Day 17 - Nicky or Tai

Erikah

Day 1 - Camilo* or Single

Day 3 - Camilo* or Bill

Day 6 - Camilo or 

Day 9 - Rocco or Arjun

Day 12 - Rocco or Arjun

Day 14 - Rocco or Arjun

Day 17 - Tai or Lucas/Casa

Miki

Day 1 - Bill or Single

Day 3 - Bill or Dumped

Day 6 - Bill or Dumped

Day 9 - Dumped

Day 12 - Dumped

Day 14 - Dumped

Day 17 - Dumped

Shannon

Day 9 - Rohan

Day 12 - Rohan or Dumped

Day 14 - Rohan or Dumped

Day 17 - Rohan or Dumped

Blake

Day 9 - Lucas

Day 12 - Rohan or Dumped

Day 14 - Rohan or Dumped

Day 17 - Rohan or Dumped

Cherry

Day 9 - Harry

Day 12 - Rohan or Dumped

Day 14 - Rohan or Dumped

Day 17 - Rohan Dumped

Bobby

Day 1 - AJ or MC or Single

Day 3 - AJ or MC or

Day 6 - Marisol

Day 9 - Marisol or Single

Day 12 - AJ/Talia or Elladine/Marisol

Day 14 - AJ/Talia or Elladine/Marisol or Single

Day 17 - AJ/Talia or Elladine/Marisol

Rohan

Day 1 - Talia or MC

Day 3 - Talia or MC

Day 6 - AJ

Day 9 - Shannon/Cherry/Blake

Day 12 - Shannon/Cherry/Blake

Day 14 - Shannon/Cherry/Blake

Day 17 - Shannon/Cherry/Blake

Graham

Day 9 - Marisol or Dumped

Day 12 - Marisol or Dumped

Day 14 - Marisol or Dumped

Day 17 - Marisol or Dumped

Seb

Day 9 - MC or Dumped

Day 12 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 14 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Day 17 - MC or Elladine/Marisol or Dumped

Nicky

Day 9 - Elladine

Day 12 - Elladine or Dumped 

Day 14 - Elladine or Dumped

Day 17 - Elladine or Dumped

[artificialqueens]

Love Connections and Other Works of Art (Sashea) - Estuary

Summary: Sasha becomes infatuated with a mural. That’s not the only thing she’s infatuated with.

A/N: I had an idea and ran with it. A meet cute and all the fallout. I hope y'all enjoy it! AO3 Link

        “Ma’am? Ma’am, I am so sorry, but my boss wants to know why you’re loitering.”   

        Sasha flushed, becoming painfully aware of how long she had stared at the mural on the side of this building. The mural was captivatingly colorful and practically pulsed with geometric shapes that were just abstract enough to draw in the viewer with the desire to discover what they were. However, even after staring at the mural for upwards of ten minutes on her way to work, Sasha could not determine their meaning. At one moment, the shapes became silhouettes of dancers, at another an architectural landscape, and at yet another, angular clouds.

        Upon tearing her eyes from the wall and spinning around to face the chiding voice, Sasha’s pale complexion deepened to a strawberry red as she laid eyes on a truly stunning woman. Her deep, creamy skin glinted under the sunlight, long, tight curls piled on her head’s right side. Her mouth formed a smirk as Sasha stared, but even with that smug expression, the lady looked beautiful. A pink blazer paired with a cobalt blue skirt usually wouldn’t seem professional, but with her stature and poise, she looked expensive and unique.

        Sasha looked down instinctively, not wanting to ogle this poor woman any longer. However, staring at the concrete sidewalk only led Sasha’s eyes to a pair of frighteningly tall, pink stiletto pumps. Pumps which then connected to a pair of slender, toned, mile-long legs.

        “Um.. girl? Are you good?” The woman asked. The question seemed to reflect concern, but the smirk had transformed into nothing short of a full, shit-eating grin.   

        Good job, Sasha. You look great. Get yourself together.

        Sasha steeled herself enough to meet the woman’s eyes.

        Talk about art. You can do that. 

        “I’m so sorry, I just was looking at this mural. The colors and composition are so wonderfully vibrant. The style speaks to traditional cubism, but the interplay of light, shade, and color reminds me of a Charles Demuth.” Sasha explained, eagerly gesticulating. Even then, she cringed slightly when her hand movements caused the pins littering her own blazer to rattle loudly.   

        After a brief pause, the woman responded.

        “Well, I’m happy you like it so much. In fact, do you want to meet who designed it?” 

        “Absolutely! If you could give me a phone number, or an email, I’ll contact her. And I’ll get out of your hair, sorry about all that.”

        “Oh, I’m not gonna go through all that trouble. You can just talk to me now.”

        Fuck. Sasha was a goner.

        “Really?”    

        “Yes! Do I look like I’m playing?” 

        “Oh my god…” Sasha muttered, the expression slipping from her lips. And upon seeing Sasha so flustered, this beautiful, perfect woman threw her head back in a full laugh. 

        It was the most lovely laugh Sasha had ever heard. It sounded deep like thunder in the mountains, and it sounded warm like an embrace or a crackling fireplace. It sounded like all these things, and Sasha felt like she was experiencing all of them at once. Maybe this mystery woman of Sasha’s dreams was laughing at her, but she would be ridiculed at forever if it meant she got to hear that laugh. 

        Double fuck.

        “I’m Shea Couleé,” the woman said, sticking out her delicately manicured hand.

        “Nice to meet you, Miss Couleé,” Sasha replied, earnestly (probably too much so) grabbing Shea’s hand and shaking it, “I’m Sasha Velour.”

        “Oh, call me Shea. It’s Miss Couleé only if you nasty.”

        Sasha felt more blood rise to her cheeks, opening her mouth to only remain silent. Shea pulled Sasha in slightly close, so her cheek practically touched Sasha’s ear. They were much too close for strangers, but for an enamored woman, perfectly fine. 

        Whispering against Sasha’s ear, Shea muttered, “By all means, continue to call me Miss, then…”

        Shea (damn her!) let go of Sasha’s hand and stepped back into her original position.

        “You know what, Sasha? Why don’t we talk about this,” Shea flippantly gestured to the mural, “over drinks later today?”

        How can she treat such a masterpiece so casually?   

        “I’d love to do that, Shea.”

        “Catch you later, Miss Velour,” Shea tossed the phrase over her shoulder, strutting back into the shop, leaving Sasha standing bug-eyed on the sidewalk.

        As Sasha hurried away to work as initially intended, she could only focus on Shea’s breath on her ear and the weight of her hand on her wrist.

————-

        Sasha’s job mostly consisted of staring at a screen for hours on end, so going out to the bar provided a nice change of pace. She enjoyed her job authoring write-ups of local art galleries, but the near-silence of the office and the polite hushed tones of artistic display spaces felt suffocating after long stretches. In places built on self-expression, the most primitive form had to wait until after work to shine. 

        The additional mounting excitement and nervousness of Sasha’s meeting with Shea didn’t help with anything. Shea had slipped Sasha her business card before returning to her job, and all-day, Sasha couldn’t help but run her fingers over the cardstock to remind herself that the interaction that she had was real. 

        While Sasha might typically reject the stereotype of the helpless, love-stricken woman (particularly when viewed through the eyes of men), Sasha felt like nothing short of François Boucher’s The Love Letter. Normally, she found the grazing animals, the flowers, the women swathed in layers of pastel silks to be patronizing and suffocating in its delicacy and adorable pleasantries. Sasha now could not relate more. Maybe her pastoral paradise could be a desk and ergonomic chair. Perhaps her love letter could be the business card of a beautiful stranger.

        Even later, at the bar, Sasha’s fingers carefully traced the edge of the card. The repetitive motions felt soothing, although it was hard to calm the tidal wave of nervousness in her head. 

        What should I say? It’s been five minutes since 7:30. That’s normal. That’s fashionably late still. Was I supposed to change before I got here? Does she… like me?

        Sasha’s mind raced, but it kept getting stuck on that final question. Like a record player skipping over and over.

        It’s been ten minutes since when we agreed. She should be here. She won’t come. It’s a joke. I hope it won’t look strange if I just leave the bar alone when she doesn’t show up. She can’t like me. Could she like me?

        Sasha hooked and unhooked her heels on the rest of the barstool. She took a pen from her purse and began to draw on Shea’s business card.

        It’s been fifteen minutes. I’ve been duped. I should have known. It was too good to be true–

        “Sasha! Sorry I’m late.”

        Triple fuck.

        Sasha needed to get used to how gorgeous Shea looked because constantly getting this flustered was frankly getting embarrassing. However, Shea wasn’t making it easy.

        Shea had changed into a vibrant, pink, crushed velvet minidress that shone under the bar’s lights. As she approached Sasha at the bar, she smiled widely and met Sasha’s eyes. 

        Putting her hand on Sasha’s back, Shea took the seat next to her.

        “You wear pencil skirts to the club?” Shea asked, bemused eyes flickering from Sasha’s blouse to the aforementioned skirt.

        “I didn’t have time to change, I’m sorry,” Sasha said, torn between her desire to examine how she looked and her desire to continue staring.

        “No, it’s all good, girl! You look just stunning here as you did on the sidewalk today. So you wanted to talk about my mural?”

        This casual, kind, and flirtatious manner kept throwing Sasha off her rhythm. One second she had her–very professional–thoughts and questions organized, and a whim, her thoughts were cast into the sea.

        “Um, well, yes. I just thought your mural was so lovely and captivating. It captures such a specific artistic feeling, and I wanted… I wanted to know what your inspiration was?” Sasha forced the first part of the question out but gradually took a stride as her mind focused and settled itself once more on the topic at hand.

        “I’ve always loved, like, cubism and the reduction of big things to more abstract shapes. I wanted to do that, but for something that was already semi-abstract, leave it up to the viewer. I love pop art and bright colors, and I figured, this’ll attract shoppers,” Shea leaned in, smiling again, “and some hot women.”

        Sasha, to her delight, learned so much about Shea as the dinner continues. 

        Shea hadn’t had formal painting or visual arts training, instead studying fashion and design. Her job at the store exists mostly to pay the bills, but she volunteered to do the mural for free. Shea loves pairing pastels and saturated colors. Shea likes savory foods more than sweet foods. Shea was raised in Chicago and moved to New York for school. Shea was single. Shea was very single.

        As the conversation continued, Sasha found herself in turn revealing more and more about herself. Her love of Keith Haring’s Unfinished Painting and Jean Michel-Basquiat’s Untitled (Skull). Her dream of owning a gallery specializing in queer art. Her disdain for salty snacks. Her beloved dog Vanya. How she was single. Very single.

        The conversation also served to distract Sasha from the copious amounts of alcohol she and Shea were consuming. Alcohol that loosened Sasha further and further, to the point that her inhibitions began to evaporate. 

        “I’m glad that you liked my mural. If you hadn’t looked at it for so goddamned long, we wouldn’t have met,” Shea and Sasha both laughed, and as Shea rested her hand on Sasha’s shoulder, Sasha just looked at her.

        Sasha had already heard the sound of Shea’s laugh, but being able to watch her laugh added an entirely new dimension to the experience. When Shea laughed, she’d throw her head back, tossing her long black curls. Her eyes would scrunch, and the light caught on her cheeks. 

        God. Every part of her shone and sparkled. Just existing near her made Sasha feel strangely buoyant and pleasant. It felt like she got to witness someone massively special and joyous and who, in turn, made Sasha feel special herself.

        “What are you thinking about?”

        “How beautiful you are when you laugh. And smile. And do most anything.”

        “I like the way you talk, Sasha”

        “That I do it about you?”

        “No, bitch!” Shea says, giggling, “Your voice and the phrases you use. I love it. I feel like I’m listening to a hot, hipster audiobook. You don’t think that’s creepy, right?” 

        “I don’t think it’s creepy. I don’t think I can think ill of you at all right now”

        Shea laughs again.

        “I like you a lot Sasha,” Shea says. Suddenly, she stands up and grabs Sasha’s hand. “Dance with me?” Shea asks, nodding her head to the masses of people on the main dance floor.

        Sasha eagerly followed Shea, and as the lights and alcohol blurred the edges of her vision and the writhing bodies bumped into her own, Sasha couldn’t look away from the vision of Shea’s beautiful hand clutching her own. That beautiful, warm grasp. Even in a sea of stimulation, the only thing that mattered was Shea’s hand.

        After making it to an open spot, Shea dropped Sasha’s hand and they both began to dance.

        When Sasha danced, she danced mostly with her hands and upper body, in a style some might call “stilted” and the more charitable might call “interpretive”. Sasha liked to claim that it came from a slightly limited range of motion caused by a pencil skirt. While that might have been somewhat true, Sasha preferred not to dwell on the fact that she had turned up going to parties in exchange for spoken word poetry nights.

        Shea, meanwhile, danced like water. She kicked, jumped, and shook, but each movement blended into each other. Her braids had been tucked into a ponytail, but still swished back and forth as she moved, emphasizing her movements. 

        What changed?

        The music didn’t slow down.

        Maybe it was Shea saying that she “loved Sasha’s ���dad dancing’”.

        Maybe it was the lights shifting to an electric blue color that shone on Shea’s hair and skin, making her look like an ethereal vision.

        Maybe it was Shea pausing from her dance to touch the assortment of pins on Sasha’s blazer, holding each one up to the light and pausing to read it.

        Maybe nothing changed.

        But Sasha felt so wonderful, so magical that she threw her arms around Shea’s neck. The music still pounded and shook her bones, but all Sasha knew was that she wanted to see Shea’s face. Wanted to feel it.

        Lifting her hand from Shea’s neck, Sasha traced Shea’s cheekbones. The curve of her ear. Her smile lines. 

        Shea wrapped her arms around Sasha’s waist, rubbing small circles with her thumb, delicate circles that Sasha could feel through her skirt. As Sasha gently ran her thumb along Shea’s cheek, she saw Shea’s eyes flutter as she let out a large sigh.

        Sasha felt like Henri Matisse’s Icarus. So obviously plummeting at lightspeed into this love, but for a brief moment in the unknown, the uncertain, silhouetted against the sky.

        Wingless and among yellow stars. The only aspect of her being, a red, glowing heart. A brief moment of glory.

        Shea’s sparkling eyes. 

        A brief moment.

        Shea’s smile. 

        A brief moment.

        They had danced around it long enough.

        Sasha leaned upward, catching Shea’s lips with her own. Her hands moved downward, clutching Shea’s back, pressing Shea towards her. Shea sighed, and Sasha could feel the corners of her lips move upwards. 

        “Why?” Sasha whispered breathily onto Shea’s lips. “Why me? Why not anyone else?”

        “Because no one else blushes so profusely at my words in their ears. No one else wants to talk about the philosophical implications of French impressionism on gender roles. No one else is a beautiful, unique, unibrowed and pin-covered woman who looks at my mural like it’s the greatest piece they’ve ever seen and then looks at me like I’m, like I’m some kinda magical being.

         I wanna witness you, Sasha. I wanna witness you all the time.”

        As they held each other close, Sasha put her racing mind to rest. Resting her head on Shea’s shoulder, she felt the music and sweat of the club gently fade away, replaced by the sound of two beating hearts. 

[justagirlinafandomworld]

Hello Spring Day 2

For itsbuckysworld’s Hello Spring Short Story Writing Event! @ibwhellospring Day 2: Stroll Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader Summary: After 3 years living in hiding, you came face to face with a ghost. That ghost is looking for answers. Warnings: language Word Count: 1359 You can read Part 1 here , Part 3 here, Part 4

You moved through the rest of your shift on automatic. Unsure whether you wanted to hurry things along and clock out or drag your tasks to delay the inevitable. You closed down the night, serving the last customer and taking your time closing the register.

Gloria counted the dollar bills and change from the tip jar, quietly doing the math to divide by three. Raul came in from the storage room after putting away the last of the cleaning supplies.

“Alright, I’m done for the night. Gloria, you got my tips?”

You mumbled a good night as he left. Slamming the register drawer shut, you tore off the receipt paper as it printed the transactions for the day and zipped up the envelope to pass to Gloria. Who was already staring at you skeptically.

“What?”

Her eyebrows lifted high on her forehead. “So, are you gonna tell me about this guy?”

“Nothing to tell.” You answered quickly, dropping the envelope in front of her when she refused to take it from your hand. You reached below the island top to retrieve your bag.

“This pile mine?” You turned to the money on the counter, swept a pile into your hand then shoved the money down in your pocket.

“Ex-boyfriend?” She followed you as you rounded the bar. “Brother-in-law turned lover?”

“That’s fucked up.” You laugh as you continue to walk away.

“Almost lover?” She called after you.

“Good night!” You waved behind, taking the gate that led to the beach.

The bright moon hung high in the velvet sky, casting the shoreline in an ethereal glow. The salty breeze had turned colder, making you feel the heat collected on your shoulders from exposure to the sun all day.

Sticking close to the shoreline, the sand solid beneath your feet, the tide gently erased the trail of your path. You finally allowed your thoughts to turn to Clint. Your old mentor. Your old friend.

Almost lover, rings in your head and something trembles in your chest. It had taken you three years of living your own life out here to finally be at peace with yourself. With the life you had led, with the person that you used to be. You had thought you weren’t that person anymore.

But seeing Clint had brought everything rushing back and it was almost like the last three years hadn’t happened at all.

The orange glow of a fire momentarily pulled you from your thoughts. It was coming from behind the next sand dune. You hadn’t realized you had reached your destination so quickly.

Letting out a deep exhale, you ran your hands back through your windblown hair and decided to bite the bullet.

He was standing on the other side of the fire pit, his back to your home, his head immediately snapping up at your presence. The flickering flames had shadows dancing across his features, sometimes adding years, sometimes taking.

“Were you looking for me, or did I just ruin your vacation?” You walked passed him to drop your bag on the wooden steps of the porch that led to your tiny bungalow.

“Would you believe me if I said I was here on a honeymoon?” He turned to you, cracking a smile.

“Clint Barton, if you were here on your honeymoon then you are one stupid man for standing on my front lawn.”

“Well, no one ever blamed me for being intelligent.” He turned back to the fire.

Steeling yourself, you walked up to stand beside him. Crossing your arms, you threw your eyes up to the stars, enjoying the contrast of the heat from the flames on your face and the cool ocean breeze on your back.

“Fury?”

“Nah, he doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Are you going to tell him…”

“That not only are you alive, but living it up as a beach bum?”

You turned to him, unamused at his joke. Seeing the worry on your face, Clint shook his head, wordlessly apologizing.

“Thought you were dead, Y/N. Forgive me for being a little punchy at finding out that you’re not.”

“Yeah, well…I had an opportunity to disappear and start over. I took it.”

The silence stretched between you, the only sound the crackling of the flames eating the logs and the constant crash of watery waves. You could feel the words that he wanted to say. Ghosts of arguments passed materialized in the dancing flames. Clint was a patient man. But you were an expert at pushing people to their limits, making them work to catch even a tiny glimpse of who you were on the inside. In the past, it always came down to Clint wanting to be let in, and you not quite letting him.

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” Clint spoke, poking at the fire with a piece of driftwood. “Kind of place I always imagined retiring to one day. Guess you beat me to the punch.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye. His shirt, audibly rustling in the wind, you finally couldn’t help but to ask: “Did you lose a bet? What is this?”

You reached a hand and tugged at the large sleeve of his yellow Hawaiian shirt. He immediately grabbed your hand to pull it away. You met his action with resistance, the momentum pulling you close together. The action was instinctive, you knew. But as you looked into his brown eyes, you could see how this was killing him.

He couldn’t believe that he had found you, alive. Laughing. Living. That vibrant energy emanating from you that he had mourned the loss of for the past three years. How could you be here, and it not all be a trap? How could you be here and not tell him?

“Clint,” You breathed his name.

He let your hand go suddenly and stepped away. “This is crazy.”

“Do you want to take a walk?” You offered.

“No, I don’t want to take a walk!” Clint began to pace around the fire. His hands resting on his lower back and his face turned up to the sky.

“If you weren’t ready to talk, why did you show your face tonight?” You volleyed.

“Because how could I not?” He threw his hands out and faced you across the fire. “I’m out here, trying to lay low for a week or two, because GUESS WHAT, life in the real world sucks. I have lived every single fucking day for the passed three years mourning you, missing you. Missions are shit. Life is shit. I come here to get a reprieve from that and…YOU’RE HERE.”

He gesticulated with his hands wildly, then fixed you with an exasperated stare. “What the fuck Y/N?”

“I had to disappear.” You defend.

He stepped around the fire; his eyes wide. “You had to disappear.” He repeated heatedly.

“Yes.”

His shoulders shrugged high. “Why?”

You crossed your arms again and kicked at the sand. “Can we please, just take a walk.”

He stomped through the sand to stand before you. “I wanna know why.”

Your eyes flew back and forth between his and you could feel your defenses cracking. You were stronger than this, you knew. But damn, you had missed him. And seeing how hurt he was, it was pulling at your heart. You gripped your arms tightly to keep from reaching for him. That stupid shirt was revealing the hard form of his chest, the wind was playing with his soft hair, and his bare feet in the sand had him unbalanced. It was the most vulnerable you had ever seen him.

He was in your element now.

Turning from him towards the fire, you steeled yourself from doing something stupid. He scoffed and stumbled back from you a few paces.

Slowly, you dropped down, plopping your butt in the sand and lost yourself in the blue hue at the base of the fire. You waited him out until eventually he sat down beside you. He rubbed at the back of his neck then rested his elbows on his bent knees.

Rubbing your hands down your face, you exhaled heavily. It was time.

[thugnan]

Stay Tuned for Danger (PC 1999)

Remember opinions are subjective :)

Story: 7/10

Characters: 8/10

Puzzles: 7/10

Chores: 6/10

Final Rating: 7/10 

First one I ever actually beat, this game had the right amount of puzzles and was more linear and straightforward compared to its predecessor. The graphics aged decently, but some of the glitches didn’t. It’s easy to get stuck places if you didn’t pick up certain things earlier in the game. The story is one of the more interesting, and least ridiculous in my opinion. Little details were put in, and most were relevant to the plot. The characters I found very memorable. And I liked the option of being able to accuse any of the main players. Chores got a 6 because the audio mixer thing really should tell you when you’ve triggered breaking into the agent’s office.

Plot (spoilers obviously):

Dear ol’ Aunt Eloise must low-key be hoping I get murdered because she sends me into danger again. Rick Arlen is a dweamy soap opera star who is getting death threats. He’s kind of a dick, so I mean not surprised, but his ex-gf and co-star is worried about him so Thug Nan is here to save the day. 

We meet the sweetest, purest, most precious character in the entire series (plz bring her back), Mattie Jensen at her bougie apartment in New York. And I’m telling you now, that if anyone who’s ever played this game thought for one second that this beautiful child did anything wrong in her life, then yalls need to gtfo. 

She tells you about how Rick has been getting scary letters, and dead flowers, and poisoned chocolates, but isn’t taking it seriously. She also invites you to watch a taping of the show later. 

When you get to WWB (the studio), you notice that all the magazines in the waiting area have the letters cut out. I’m skeptical that the person who’s been sending the letters sat in the waiting room cutting out all the letters. I’m also skeptical that they went through the trouble of stealing them, cutting the letters, and bringing them back. You’re telling me a multi million company like WWB can’t afford to replace a couple of magazines every now and then. Okay, I’m thinking too much about this magazine thing.

We enter the taping and of course because we’re here a giant light rig falls from the sky and nearly kills Rick. He goes full Karen (rightfully so, but also u shoulda been taking those warnings seriously), and says he's gonna complain to his agent before storming off stage. We investigate and meet all the suspects:

Mattie is technically a suspect cause she’s an ex but we’re gonna ignore that.

Prop Lady: She does not hide her hatred of Rick at all, but I like her batshit shenanigans. I think her name is Mildred, and is apparently the heir to the WWB fortune. She may not be capable of murder, but she can afford to hire someone to murder on her behalf, just sayin.

Lilian a.k.a. The Director: Rick has apparently hit it and quit it with all the females in the building, and boy is Lillian salty about it. She hates everyone, especially me, she throws me out of the studio immediately. Jokes on her because no one can get rid of Thug Nan that easily.

Mattie is able to talk to her agent about getting me a job on set as an extra. We meet our fourth third suspect:

Dwayne Powers: Dwayne is my favorite character in the whole series probably because he’s the worst, and not in a good way. He’s Mattie’s agent, but he hates Rick cause he used to be his agent too before Rick upgraded to Bill Pappas. 

Bill Pappas is in this game too, but you never really meet him. In the same way you never met the Janitor in Secrets Can Kill… suspicious. Although I don’t know what you would want to kill your own talent. 

Sleuthing around (and getting hit on by Rick non-stop) you discover that the light was sabotaged and that everyone technically has a motive to want to kill the guy. Someone tries to MURDER him again, by putting a bomb in his dressing room that Thug Nan finds and disarms because apparently she’s been trained in this?

ALSO the order to cut the wires in is found in Mattie’s dressing room, determined by highlighter and juice stains. It wasn’t hard to figure out, but it was very flash escape room-y. But my girl would NEVER, so idk what was up with that. 

So after disarming the bomb, we’re able to break into the studio...

at niiiight. 

Going through everyone’s shit and breaking all kinds of trespassing laws, we learn that:

Lillian probs sent Rick the nasty chocolate and she has serious anger management issues. She’s also trying to get his ass fired. 

Someone be running around by the name of Owen W Spader, and sabotaging all kinds of shit. He’s represented by Dwayne also.

The tape used in the bomb tape recorder was probably recorded somewhere in New York. Idk why we had to do this part but whatever.

So we go to Dwayne’s Office at niiightt. We break in using a card like we have most of the game, and low key I’m salt that this doesn’t work in all the games. In the office we look up Owen’s file, and there is no picture. We snoop through Dwayne’s shit, and learn that my sweet Mattie loaned this fool 5k. There’s also a bunch of bills and eviction notices everywhere, along with a ticket to Rio. This is not looking good for dear old Dwayne. 

You go home and now there’s a threat for you. Oh shit you’ve pissed someone off. Yikes. In the morning, you ask everyone if they’ve met Owen. Mattie’s like Owen? Who is she? Rick pretends to know him and proceeds to hit on Thug Nan, I mean she did save his life or whatever. Mildred doesn’t know him either but boy does he borrow shit from the prop room. Lillian yells at you about how no one cares and tells you to go die in a ditch. 

So you go home again, only to have Lilian booty call your ass back to the studio…. At niiight. When you get there she’s like I got a death threat too, but who could be behind this. And Thug Nan is like “Here Lillian, let me Tom Riddle Owen W Spayder’s name for you, ohh would you look at that? DWAYNE POWERS HAS THE EXACT SAME LETTERS IN HIS NAME. I can’t believe you needed a teenager to tell you that but you’re welcome.” 

Dwayne obviously read Chamber of Secrets, cause he decides to show up and give his evil monologue all dramatically. He mentions that he only planned to murder Lillian (y tho? I hate her too, but she’s not the smartest person around, she literally would have never figured out that it was Dwayne, but okay). Since Nancy’s nosy ass was there however, she gonna get murdered by default. 

Lillian just stands there for some reason, even tho it’s one vs. two and I’m sure if we tag teamed this we could take him. Thug Nan carries this entire team and saves the day by opening the door and letting security tackle Dwayne. She did all the work for them, but allegedly they were on to him. Sure you were Randy. 

THE END. 

[misssophiachase]

Caroline's ex sells her stuff and klaus ends up buying a painting that was a heirloom. Caroline tracks him down.

In Loving Memory

Thanks luv! What an amazeballs prompt, I hope I did it justice : )

Sante Fe, New Mexico - 106 degrees

To say Caroline Forbes was a little frustrated was an understatement. Canyon Road seemed to stretch for dusty, red miles and one art galley seemed to turn into another. Pity none of the ones she’d already passed were her destination and the fact the weather was a dry 100 plus degrees and steadily climbing was doing nothing to help the situation.

Granted, yes, she was a highly strung individual but after searching for months and making the long trip from mild Boston to claim what was rightfully hers, Caroline figured she’d been unusually patient. Now was the point she was beginning to lose it. 

“Looks like you could use some water,” an unexpected voice said under the verandah. She stared blankly at the stranger, a little girl with messy, blonde pigtails and big, brown eyes. “You know agua?” She persisted, pretending to drink from her hand. 

“I’m..” she paused, her eyes landing on the street number and realising this was her destination. Finally. “Actually, yes, that would be nice.” The girl gestured for her to come forward, excitedly waving her hand and racing inside.    

She ascended the four steps and followed her inside, the cool breeze from the air conditioner welcome in her current frazzled state. The floors were polished hardwood and the walls littered with paintings, not that she was expecting any less. She was taken aback by just how stunning they were. Each landscape and portrait seemed to come to life in front of her eyes. 

Caroline shook her head, telling herself that she was here for a purpose. Unfortunately she hadn’t managed to find what she was looking for on the walls. 

“Here.” The little girl interrupted, shoving the glass into her hands. She sent her a small smile and took a sip, relishing in the relief she felt as it cascaded down her dry throat. 

“Thank you…”

“Lexi,” she finished. “That’s my name.”

“Well, hello there Lexi,” she offered her free hand and shook her tiny one gently. 

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Caroline,” she explained. “I’m actually looking for someone. I was wondering if you could help me?”

“Who?”

“Niklaus Mikaleson, do you happen to know him?” The little girl giggled mischievously, her cheeks colouring slightly. 

“That’s my dad but most people call him Klaus. Well, except for my Aunt Rebekah when she’s mad and my Uncle Kol when he’s teasing and my Uncle Elijah pretty much all the time.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a big family there,” she chuckled as the little girl nodded, her pigtails bobbing up and down. She’d arrived in such a hostile mood but for some reason this little girl bearing agua had made her decidedly less grouchy. “So, where is your dad?”

“He’s out the back, painting again.”

“You mean he did all of these?” She squeaked, taking in the combined beauty of the surrounding artwork. 

“Pretty much, dad says it makes him feel good.” Caroline wished at that point she had something to make her feel good. Lexi took her hand unexpectedly and lead her through the hall and into a Spanish style courtyard. If the scenery over the valley from this vantage point didn’t take her breath away the man standing by the easel did. 

He was staring intently at the canvas, paintbrush in hand. If the crimson lips, stubble and dimples weren’t enough of a distraction, his white shirt was only half buttoned, a toned chest peeking out from within.  

“Dad!” Lexi yelled, breaking not only her trance but his obviously. His blue eyes flickered over her body curiously. Caroline suddenly feeling a little underdressed in her short, floral dress.  

“Let me guess, she lured you in with that whole water excuse?” He asked, pointing to the empty glass in her hand. 

“I was thirsty,” she offered a little defensively, wondering where her bold, negotiating skills had disappeared. Maybe if he’d just do up a few more buttons she could retrieve them. 

“This is my daughter’s ploy to try and bring in extra business,” he explained, giving Lexi a knowing look. “I’ve told her it’s incredibly misleading.”

“What does misleading mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” he chided. “You’ve been around Aunt Rebekah for too long.”

“The one who calls you Niklaus when she’s mad?” Caroline asked, noting the slight blush that crossed his face. Like father, like daughter. 

“Did I mention that my daughter loves to talk?” Lexi gave an exasperated sigh. 

“I don’t know, she seems to be the best asset you’ve got,” Caroline grinned, sending Lexi a knowing smile. 

“Ouch,” he groaned, thumping his bare chest and pretending to be wounded. “Any chance you could get me a glass of water, sweetheart?” She regarded him dubiously before running back inside. 

“I think someone is intimidated by his own daughter,” Caroline raised her eyebrows. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” he sighed, placing his brush on the nearby table and moving towards her. “Is there something I can help you with, love?”

“I’m looking for a painting.”

“Well, you came to the right place,” he smirked, wiping his paint stained hands on his jeans. “Anything in particular that took your fancy?”  

“Actually something has,” she began trying to ignore his increasingly close proximity. “But it doesn’t seem to be here.” He looked at her quizzically. 

“Well, then I’m not sure I can help you then,” he shot back, his tone telling her that she’d offended him. 

“These artworks are beautiful,” she said, attempting to placate him. Given she wanted something, offending the owner of her much loved painting wasn’t the best way to go about it.

“Okay, what do you really want then?” He asked slyly, almost like he could read her mind. 

“The Bill Forbes original,” she managed to utter, her father’s name still causing numbness. “It should be mine.”

“I’m sorry?” He asked, taking a seat at the nearby table. “Last time I checked, I paid handsomely for that painting.”

“I know,” she conceded, joining him on the other side. “But I’m willing to buy it for whatever price.”

“If I could give you any tips, I’d suggest you don’t offer anything, you know it’s called bartering.” She didn’t respond immediately, in fact she was madly trying to keep her composure. This ass had no idea what this painting meant to her but she wanted it back. Caroline wasn’t quite sure she could live without it in her life, it meant too much.

“How about we cut the bullshit,” she muttered in frustration. “I’ve travelled all the way from Boston. Just tell me how much you want?”

“I’m sorry you’ve come so far, Miss, but that painting isn’t and never will be for sale.”

“But I need it,” she implored, her blue eyes boring into his. As if the struggle to find the painting hadn’t been enough but now she had to endure another setback. It was almost too much to comprehend. 

“Why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you seem extremely attached to it and I’m wondering why?”

“I am,” she rasped almost helplessly. “If you insist on goading me then I’ll tell you. Bill Forbes was my father.”

“You mean?” He asked, clearly shocked and leaning forward in his chair. “The little girl in the painting is…”

“Me.” Caroline was on the verge of crying but for some reason she didn’t want him to see that so kept her eyes downcast. 

“But why…”

“Don’t I have the painting?”  She asked, predicting his question. “Someone sold it without my knowledge.”

“But how?”

“My ex boyfriend Stefan thought it would be a novel thing to do seeing as I called it quits. Funny joke, hey?” She could feel a hot, salty tear followed by another running down her cheeks. So much for keeping her composure. “And I’ve been trying to get it back ever since.”

“Now I understand,” he murmured, his hand reaching out for hers. Caroline would never forget the feeling of his rough and calloused fingers on her skin. “And not just because your ex-boyfriend is a serious ass.“

“That’s putting it nicely,” she muttered.

“But just so you know, I’m going to need some identification for handover. As much as I love my daughter’s intuition, she’s only six.”

Caroline wiped the tears from her eyes and finally met his gaze, even through the waterworks, she knew he was being sincere. “How much do you want?”

“Nothing,” he answered. “But how about a date?” 

“Seriously?”

“I’m deathly serious,” he smirked, squeezing her hand. “I haven’t been on one in over six years so if you could show me the ropes, I’d appreciate it. If not for me then my nosy siblings and daughter.”

“I suppose that could be arranged,” Caroline grinned, realising that if his hand stayed on hers forever she wouldn’t mind. “But I’m curious.”

“About?”

“Why did you want that painting so badly?”

“That father-daughter moment reminded me so much of me and Lexi,” he admitted, his hand still firmly placed upon hers. “I didn’t want to forget the way she looked at me so adoringly and that picture was exactly what I needed to know even if she grows up we’ll still share that moment.”

“The terrible teens?” Caroline joked. “Okay, so how about we organise a sharing arrangement?” She proposed, her fingers exploring his skin freely now.

“Between Massachusetts and New Mexico?” He baulked.

“I’m sure we can make it work somehow.” Their hands were now firmly entwined and for some reason it didn’t feel like that bond could ever be broken. 

Turns out it wasn’t that difficult to manage especially with the little girl that brought them together unbeknownst to them. Lexi loved to claim credit and funnily enough no one was going to argue. The painting that brought them together was hung in pride of place and, believe it or not, they lived happily ever after.  

[sserpente]

Condolescence (Chapter X)

Pairing: Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive) x OFC Language: English Rating: M

Read it on AO3!

„Adam,” He hadn’t heard her coming upstairs again. Frowning, the vampire shot a brief look over to his old-fashioned clock on the wall next to his dozens of portraits of scientists, writers and musicians and brushed off his headphones, tossing them aside. So much for working on new music but then again, he hadn’t been able to concentrate anyway. It was eight am already, the sun fighting to shine through his thick black curtains but failing the battle pathetically. “I barely slept at all. All I was doing was thinking about… Adam, I need to talk to you.”

“Do you?” His tone was questioning, careful and suspicious. The stone wall he had built up around himself rose to its peak, protecting his dead heart at any cost. He couldn’t possibly let her in again after what had happened just a few hours ago. He had drunken almost everything there was left. Soon, he would have to go for a drive and obtain new supplies for himself.

“Yes. I may not be a psychiatrist but I can tell if someone is suffering and you… you are. I’m so glad you told me about your dead wife, Adam, I know it takes a lot of courage to do so but still, I feel like you’re trying everything in your power to stay away from me, as much as this is possible, considering I live in your house. You insisted on me moving here when I lost my job and my apartment and yet, I feel so rejected. No, you… you make me feel like I’m rejecting you. I…” She took a deep breath. Her whole body was shaking as she spoke, her voice so loud Adam almost flinched.

“I know I don’t know how much pain you’ve been forced to go through and I don’t know what I could do to make it better but I really want to help you. I want to give you something in return for letting me be here until I’ve finally found something new but no matter what I do, you’re so… cold, and I just… I just… I just can’t keep going like this! It hurts so much seeing you suffer like this and not being able to do anything about it! I told you I trusted you but right now, I feel like a prisoner! Not because I am in this house with you but because I’m unable to break you out of this unbearable silence and grief you surround yourself with! You saved my life, Adam, I am grateful for that but why on Earth would you—“

Tal didn’t get to finish her sentence, for the vampire had rushed forward so fast she didn’t even manage to blink. Within a matter of seconds, his lips came crashing down on hers, his hands pulling her fragile body against his. Words could not describe how much he longed for her, how much he was into her, for everything she had said was true. He was cold, unapproachable and withdrawn but what was there he could do without revealing his true nature to her?

He knew he needed to stay away from her, focus on his music instead of her sweet blood but those words, coming from her beautiful lips… he couldn’t help it. Not quite.

He kissed her passionately, her eyes falling shut as she gave in, ravishing the feeling of being so close to him. It was like they were magnets—drawn to each other and unable to move away. It’s why she, unbeknownst to him, hardly ever left the house when he was asleep, it was why she had agreed on living with him and it was why she realised that she had long fallen for the mysterious black-haired man with the English accent.

A silent moan escaped Adam’s lips. Tal’s flesh was delicious, as tasteful as her blood and so soft. He could kiss her forever, never let go of her pretty mouth again. Almost shyly, his tongue asked for permission to enter, sneaking between her lips and starting a playful battle with hers. He felt her digging her nails into his black shirt greedily, so he pressed her even closer to him.

It was then she pushed him away with a start, her eyes widening in shock as she looked up at him. What had he done? Had he been too greedy, too ungentle?

“Adam… Adam, what…” Her fear stopped her from finishing her sentence this time. It radiated off her like heat, luring his inner monster to pounce on her, to scare his prey until it would surrender and give in to its inevitable death.

His fangs had appeared, growing longer and longer during the kiss until they were ready to bury them deep in her sensitive human flesh, his eyes as brown and golden as they’d been back in his cellar where he’d devoured a week’s ration of blood. As for now, he was exactly what he had intended to hide. A vampire. A creature of night. A blood-sucking monster. He had ruined everything.

Tal’s hand flew to her mouth. Stumbling back, she almost tripped over some cables on the carpet before hitting the wooden threshold of the door.

“What… what in the…” She swallowed, forcing herself to speak. It seemed like every single word was a stab right in her chest, causing her to choke on her tongue. “What are you?”

Was lying an option? Pretending it was but a lame joke to ease the tension? No, she wasn’t going to buy it. He had messed up. For Fuck’s sake, he had fucking messed up. Anger and hurt rose in him, forcing him to his knees. Only with all of his willpower he managed to remain as still as a statue, not moving an inch to not scare her even more.

There was no going back now. She had seen it. All of it. His sharp canines, his eerie brown and golden eyes… every lie he could come up with would be ridiculous and raise even more questions, scare her away forever.

Adam closed his eyes for a second. Slowly, he breathed in and out to make sure his appearance normalised before he spoke again.

“I’m a vampire.”

Trembling, the girl released the breath she didn’t notice she was holding. Then, she shook her head, staring at him wildly and full of defiance.

“No. No, you’re not, you can‘t be, that’s… that’s impossible. Vampires aren’t real.”

“I am real, Tallulah.”

“Is.. is that… this is why it’s always so dark in here, isn’t it? Why you work at night, why you never go out, why you never eat. Why you could take out those men with a single punch… and my ex… and you… you… you drink blood!” She shrieked hysterically, realising with a start what kind of deadly creature she had standing right in front of her.

“And i-is… is that why you took me in?” Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, torturing him with every sob that escaped her lips in between. Whether it was from fear or grief, Adam couldn’t tell. All he wanted was for her to stop, to calm down so he could comfort her, assure her that her knowing about his true being wouldn’t change anything. He snorted mutely at that. Of course it changed everything.

“Is that why you keep me in your house? W-what am I to you, a… a snack? Something you can help yourself to in case you get hungry?”

Anger? Anger. It was anger flooding through her delicious veins now, her salty tears full of rage and fighting her fear for just a second. That was good. It meant she wouldn’t lash out and loser her mind from the scare.

“It’s not why you’re here, Tal,” Adam shot back, perhaps a little more aggressive than he had intended to. This time, however, the girl didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, her chin held up high to declare she wasn’t afraid of him.

Yet she was. He could literally smell it on her soft skin, radiating off her like her natural body heat he had come to enjoy so much.

Carefully, he took a step towards her, his bare feet almost gliding over the soft and battered carpet beneath him.

“No! No! Stay away from me! Don’t you… don’t you come near me!” Tal lifted her shaking hand, pointing a finger at him. It was a pathetic attempt to keep him off, for he was a thousand times stronger and faster than she would ever be and still, he stopped dead in his tracks, remaining where he was, watching helplessly how she grabbed the jacket she had left on his couch and put it on.

Was she leaving? Where would she go?

Only when she shot him one last cold glare and then stormed downstairs into the small bedroom to grab at least some of her other belongings—a mobile phone whose bills Adam was now taking care of, her wallet containing nothing more than her ID, driving licence and an old KFC voucher—the vampire finally awoke from his rigour.

Quickly, Tal stuffed her things into a bag, making mental notes to get replacements for the few other things she would leave back here and then started at the door.

“Tal, please wait.” He was so fast the girl hadn’t even realised his presence until his hand appeared on the metal door knob, blocking her only path of escape. How did he even do that?!

“Let me go. Let me go, Adam!” It was him who flinched now, for the high-pitched tone of her voice screaming at him was a literal curse to his sensitive ears. Still, he didn’t move away; instead, he went for another try. Just one more.

“Tal… Tal, where do you want to go?”

She hadn’t thought about it yet. Adam was right, where did she want to go? Technically, she was homeless. Technically, she had nowhere to be and technically, she didn’t even possess a dollar to her name.

No. She also couldn’t stay, not with him. It was the fact he had lied to her, using her for nothing more than… for what? — rather than him being… a… a vampire.

“I don’t know. Away from you, as far away from you as possible!”

After all, she had trusted him. She had trusted a stranger when straitened, her guardian angel right from heaven and now, he turned out to be a bloody-thirsty demon in disguise like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Images of him hugging her flashed before her eyes, memories of how he had protected her. Of how he had kissed her. Had it all been a lie? A trick? A scam to feast on her at night? What if he’d already drunken from her while she was asleep? And what about all those times he had pushed her away, acted strangely when confronted with a hug or the sight of her blood? How could any of this make sense?

No. No questions. She had to leave. Her face distorted as she tore open the door, pushing him away with him letting it happen downright defencelessly, though he followed her into the small room presenting itself to the both of them, with another, heavy piece of wood blocking her route.

“Tal, wait. I never meant to scare you like this, there was a reason I didn’t tell you, please, you have to listen before—argh!” His clamouring got interrupted by a sharp pain on his right hand as he tried to force the door closed again. The girl had opened it hastily, allowing bright sun light to flood the small room and Adam’s skin connected to the beams, scourging it and almost setting it aflame as his hand began to burn like a piece of meat in a stone oven.

For just a sheer moment, Tal turned around, her eyes glistening with concern as she stared at his carbonised hand healing within mere seconds. He was hurt, was he okay? The sun had burned him. Reminded once more of why she needed to get away from this godforsaken place, she legged it, not looking back as she ran off in the broad light of day.

She didn’t know where she was headed, nor was she aware she kept crying and weeping for hours until she passed a deserted café and checked her phone for the time. It was noon. Tal was hungry and tired but most of all, she was mad. Mad for trusting yet another man so thoughtlessly, a man she had believed to be so different. He was different, in a way.

➡️ Find all chapters on my masterlist!

[chanzicoup]

Suffer in Silence (VIXX N x Reader)

A/N: for @Narwhal_Power on wattpad

Summary: Y/N was invited to the VIXX dorm after her work shift for dinner. It wasn't weird for her to come over being Leo's cousin and all. Not only that but she was also one of their stylists so she sees them on a regular basis anyhow. She works part time at a grocery store and part time in the make up department to pay for student loans, all while balancing schooling itself. It didn't help that she had been easily stress out and has panic attacks when everything grumbles. She's just gotten home and out of the shower when Ken called her excitedly to invite her to dinner.

Count: 1.8k

Genre: Angst

Warning: Anxiety, Stress, Panic Attacks, etc.

Request Regulations/Rules

~Blake

Y/N's POV

I changed into a grey tank top and yoga pants before drying my hair with my towel and playing music on my CD player. Most people would usually listen to music on their phones but when you have all these albums you can't let your money go to waist by never actually playing the CD's. Seconds later my phone began to blare BLACKPINK's Boombayah and Ken's face flashed on my screen. I set my towel on my bed and lowered my music before picking up.

"Hello?" I asked. He could only be calling this late because he wants something.

"Y/N!!! Are you free!?!?!" I heard his screams of joy yell. I moved my phone a few inches away from my ear to prevent me from going deaf and chuckled.

"Yah cutie, calm down. Yes, I am free. Why?" I questioned. Cutie is my nickname for him since I refused to say 'oppa' with the VIXX guys. It was to awkward for me. Ken responded in a normal voice surprisingly.

"We're ordering chicken today! Leo says you're having a hard time recently because of work and school and he thought it be fun if you came over!" It was true school and work has been piling up lately because of the holidays and finals, but I tried to keep it together mainly because I didn't want the boys to worry.

"I'm okay I just need to sleep!" Ok so trying to convince them I was fine never works and I have absolutely no idea why I even tried.

"Too late, Y/N! We already ordered yours so you have to come! Dinner will be here at seven!" And with that Ken hung up. I rolled my eyes and pulled out a hoodie to wear and my converses. Just because they invited me over doesn't mean I have to dress up, I bet that they are wearing sweats and white t-shirts so I'll be just fine.

My phone chimed and I looked at the screen to see a reminder my teacher had sent in my History Group Chat.

'Remember, students, your Quiz on the Preamble Origins is tomorrow! Finals are coming soon too. Two weeks away to be exact.'

Ugh, I nearly forgot about that. And I've studied for days! I guess I should revise my notes soon if I forgot this early on. Maybe I could do it during my ten minute break in between shifts? Yea that sounds fine, I'll revise before the quiz too so I should be alright.

I finished drying my hair and grabbed my keys before getting into my car and driving off. It took me only a few minutes to get to their dorm and when I did Leo met me in the drive way.

"Nice outfit." He joked. I rolled my eyes and locked my car.

"Says you, you're wearing basically the same thing I am." He wore a black hoodie with red sweats and black slippers. He scoffed and led me inside, sore loser. He never liked being corrected but he deals with it when it comes to meeee.

"Whatever, dinner will be here in fifteen minutes." We took off our shoes at the door and walked into the living room where the other boys were sitting and chatting. Leo sat on the floor and I sat in the last seat on the couch N and Hyuk were sitting in.

Out of all the boys the two that were the most calm around me were Hyuk and N. In the beginning I thought they didn't like me but I soon learned that they just had a lot of respect to me. Hyuk because I was older, just by a few weeks but he says I'm 30 with my mental age. N says it's because I'm not only one of VIXX's family member's but technically I'm their coworker. I hold a high respect for them too, of course. We became best friends after that and we started acting and speaking comfortable with each other. N looked over and wrapped his arm over the back of the couch I was resting against. Which was a normal thing to do between us.

"How was your day, Y/N?" He asked, ignoring Leo's judging.

"Meh, could be better but it's been worse. I just has a busy day." I laughed it off as a joke to get him to stop talking about it, I could just feel the stress bubbling up  from within.

"You're ok though right?"

"Of course, nothing I can't handle!" MORE LIES

"As long as you're fine. Don't stress too much." He cautioned. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"Yes, mother." His eyes widened and he moved his hand in a motion that looked like a woman moving her hair off her shoulder.

"At least I'm a pretty woman, unlike some girls..." He sneered.

"OooooH Noona he dissed you!" Hyuk cheered, this kid just wants to see a fight.

"TAKE THAT BACK!" I squealed, N shook his head and at that I pounced and began tickling his ribcage.

"Y/N STOP! YOU KNOW I'M TICKLISH!" N said in between breaths. That may be true, but he insulted my beauty and this means war!

Hyuk joined in on the tickling and we continued as N wheezed in sporadic giggles. After a few minutes I saw Leo get up and walk into the kitchen, mumbling about how us children are ridiculous.

"Time out!" Hongbin's voice rang from the kitchen, we halted immediately. He walked out wearing a black apron and holding a tray of hot tea. He set it on the table and removed his apron, setting it to the side.

We drank our tea and became engaged in a conversation about RAVI's solo. I had remembered, I was going to be doing his make up for that concert. You can thank me later. The chicken was not here yet and I was starving. My phone rang in the middle of Ken's sentence and I saw it was my boss at the grocery store calling. "I am so sorry, but it's work."

"You can go in my room to chat." N stood and led me to his bedroom. I thanked him as he shut his door and answered the phone.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Y/N YOU THINK YOU CAN SLACK OFF JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE BUSY!" His booming voice echoed roughly into my ear drums and my heart raced with fear.

What had I done wrong?

"Sir, what do you mean?" I asked in the quietest voice possible thanks to the growing panic attack.

Calm down, Y/N. This is your boss, he's always mad at something. He'll quiet down soon enough.

"I'M TALKING ABOUT THE LAST FEW WEEKS YOU'D BEEN DROPPING IN PRODUCTIVITY. THE ITEMS AREN'T STRAIGHT ON THE SHEVES, THE JANITOR'S CLOSET WAS A MESS, AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON YOUR SLOW CHECK OUTS! JANINE DOES A BETTER JOB THAN YOU AND SHE JUST STARTED OUT!"

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I'll do better, I promise!" I said with tears in my eyes. I'm going to be fired, I can already tell. I tried my best this week too, but I guess it just wasn't enough. I'll never be enough.

N's POV

I closed the door to my bedroom and made my way into the living room, where the boys were eating the chicken that must've came while Y/N and I were away.

"Y/N still on the phone?" Leo asked with a mouth full of food.

"Yea she should be out in a few minutes." I sat down in my seat again and opened my box to start eating.

3rd POV

But she hadn't come back, not after ten nor twenty minutes. The boys were starting to worry and her food was getting cold. Leo noticed and felt something was wrong, but he hadn't acted on it because he normally was like this when it came to his baby cousin. It never turned out to be a big deal so he ignore his gut feeling. N on the other hand knew something was wrong, he just knew.

Y/N's assumption was right, she'd been fired. As her now ex boss hung up on her after spitting foul words to her she'd crouched down to the floor and began letting her stress out in the only form she knew how, crying salty tears. She hid her face in her knees that were bent to her chest. Curling into a ball in the dark only made her feel more pathetic.

N decided to check in on her and he excused himself from his members to make his way to the bedroom. He knocked on his door a couple of times, the only sound he had heard was Y/N's sniffling. He rushed into the room and found her on the floor.

"Hey, what happened?" He shut the door and turned a lamp on, kneeling next to her. She flinched away but N only drew closer and wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm sorry." She cried. N immediately understood what was happening and hugged her with both arms, having her head rest in his nape. She cried harder after feeling comfort and support in his embrace. He holds her head and smooth down her hair, something his mother had done for him once or twice before.

She relaxed and thanks to N's actions but he did not stop, not that she was complaining. N could tell she was exhausted. Her makeup covering the bags under her eyes had washed off. He also knew she hid her problems because she didn't want to feel like a burden to the others. He knew what it felt like to be overloaded, working over time, and suddenly having everything crumble despite how hard you tried to prevent it.

"I know you're not ok. You don't have to lie to me, Y/N. Tell me what's wrong." He whispered. For once in a long while Y/N confessed and let the weight fly off of her chest. She told N about her job, being fired, studying until morning only to get B's on her tests, exams, bills pilling up, everything. N sat and listened. He listened to her worries and fears while stroking her hair and holding her tight. When she was finished she let out a long sigh and sat up and out of N's arms, much to her dismay. She wiped her eyes and pulled her hair to the side to keep it out of her face.

"I'm sorry." She said while clearing her throat.

"Don't be, I understand. What you need to remember is that there's always a shoulder for you to lean on here." N raised to his feet and helped Y/N to hers. Walking hand in had he lead her to the bathroom.

"Go wash up, you're foods getting cold." He chided. She smiled and did as she was told.

Never again did she suffer in silence.

[dangerouscrusadefire-blog]

Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

"Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://financeandcreditsolution.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 

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Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

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I was wondering if anyone could tell me if you can get like your life insurance lisence online and where?

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Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

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I rear ended someone this weekend. Just a minor fender bender. My first ever accident!! UGH! Both cars with minor damage. There are a few scratches on their car. I have liability insurance through AAA, I've had my US license for a year and a half and am f/29yrs old. Have had a UK license for 10 yrs. What are the chances my rates will go up? I am insured on my husbands insurance and we have 2 cars so will insurance go up for both? I just want to hear people who might've been in the same kind of circumstances and if their rates went up and by how much! Thanks!""

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specifically for pension plans, are the premiums received here considered as capital by insurance companies? assuming they are the ones issuing these pension policies""

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What is The Best Life Insurance Policy? I am Looking For the Best Life Insurance Policy We are having another child and I have to do something about not having any life insurance Can I get A free Online Life Insurance Policy Quote somewhere. Thanks for your time

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I'm on my moms policy right now as the primary driver of a 20 year old sports car and it costs 900 a month. I used to be the primary driver of a small 2002 kia rio sedan and it cost about 700 a month. How much will it be if i am now the primary driver of a 2006 nissan altima? Also how much would the insurance for the actual car be? My mom drives an 06 taurus and she pays 800 so i'm guessing around that price?

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im looking to set up a car insurance company in the uk. I am quite business minded but am not in a position to be spending thousands of pounds to set it up. would be greatful of any info on how I go about things thanks

Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

Why do they ask your occupation when appliying for insurance?

Does it really matter? Or is it for marketing purposes?

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I have major gum resession and I need a transplant, which means I need to visit a peridontist. Problem is, I can't find one in Iowa that takes my insurance. (Hawk-i) I really need the surgery and I've been searching for months and haven't had any luck. Please, someone help me out, please.""

Help. Court tommorow. Auto insurance issue!?

A few hours after I purchased a truck from a dealer, I was pulled over and ticketed for no insurance (california). I did not purchase insurance through the dealer. Don't I get at least one day to buy this myself?? Judge is very strict. I go to court at 9am tomorrow.""

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Local car insurance in california?

""Which costs more, Motorcycle insurance or Car insurance ?

I just got my Drivers License earlier this second quarter and I'm going for my motorcycle within the next month or two. My birthday is in February and I am currently 23 years of age.

Can i insure a car in one state and register in another?

i am going to school in South Carolina and have a permanent address in New York. Can i register my car in SC and insure it in New York?

What is the average price (without insurance) for a root canal?

What is the average price (without insurance) for a root canal?

How much a month would car insurance be for a 2010 dodge charger? Im about to turn 18 and plan on getting this?

car. I know it depends on where u live etc..but i want to know the average cost per month of this particular car. I'm going to be joining the marines..idk if this matters but most places offer a military discount. So any feedback would be greatly appreciated.

My 13 Year old Son got an insurance quote in the mail for my car?

How could they have gotten his name on a quote for insurance on my car? Thanks!

How am I supposed to get Medical Insurance if I'm out of work?

I am 59 years of age. I've been out of work since Oct.'012. I live in SC. I have been trying in vain since 012 to get a parttime job. I live alone with my mother. She is 86 ...show more

Car insurance rates/prices?

This is my first time buying a used car, just about to get my license as I'm researching the difference insurance companies out there, I'm 22, living in Colorado Springs. Which one is the best? What are the different prices/rates they charge so I'll know what to save up?""

Cheaper car insurance?

If i get a cheap car will my insurance be cheaper or more expensive? I have a car that i can have given to me it is about 5 years old but cant aford the first years car insurance out right if i sell it and gt a cheaper car will the insurance be cheaper or more expensive because it is an older car? I say this because if so i can sell the car i have and use the money left over to pay for the first ears car insurance. p.s i am a teenage driver which is why im trying to save as much money as i can!

Cheapest car insurance for new drivers?

Co-op seem to be the cheapest i can find at the moment, i am going on my dads name because we are both going to drive it and he has like 11 year no claims, so far co-op seem the best (coop seem to go by the age of the car) the older the cheaper, im looking to insure either a fiesta a clio or a corsa, something like that, could you from experience or just knowledge tell me which insurance is the cheapest, by the way im 17""

Question about Plan First health insurance in Michigan. Backpay?

I just had a papsmear done about two weeks ago, and I didn't get approved for my Plan First insurance until afterwards. Does anyone know if they provide a backpay program, like they'll cover any procedure done in the last 30-60 days? Also have lab tests from that papsmear that I just got the bill for and have not paid yet. Is that covered? Thanks!""

What will an insurance company offer to settle for a possible neck injury?

I was rear-ended by another car. I reported to the insurance company of the person who hit me that my neck was a little sore. They offered me $700 to sign a release form without me even asking. I told the claims adjuster I needed to think about it. Short of getting a lawyer, what could I expect to be offered? I am sure insurance companys have a set amount that they will pay to get me to sign the release form. Anyone know about how much that would be?""

What is the best insurance company for a recently passed young driver?

I passed my test last week and i am looking to buy a corsa, punto, clio like car. Its gonna be either a 1.0L or 1.2L car. How much will this cost me and what companies will give me the best quotes? Also, i am a boy""

What wold be the cheapest and best insurance?

I'm 19 and a full time college student and I live in Wisconsin. I have a work study job at school as well as a full time job in the summer. I live with my grandma because I was technically abandoned by my mom while in high school and she is unemployed so I don't think she has insurance. I wrestle in college and earlier this year I sustained a concussion and a few days afterward I got rear ended which made the symptoms a lot worse. Theyre insurance is paying for some of the bills but not all. So what insurance should I try to pursue.

""Cons, why accept mandated car insurance, but bash on affordable health care?""

ACA is unconstitutional, but car insurance isn't?""

Insurance on a supersport motorcycles is that much higher?

So I'm planning on getting a 600cc supersport soon, and I was looking at insurance rates. The choice package at progressive was $350 for my current 2006 ninja 250. (19m, car driver 3 years, 9 months on bike) and when I try to get a quote for a 600cc bike the price jumps up to $1200 for a bike of the same year (r6), and $1400 for a gixxer. At the same time, it's $450 for a ninja 650r. Are these prices suppose to be right? What's going on?""

TRADE INSURANCE..................?

is it safe to buy an insurance for a trade insurance owner as if he then puts your name in his policy and drive your own car for social purposes?

Planning ahead for car insurance ADVICE.?

OK, So I have recently passed my driving test and am now currently trying to sort out a car for myself. As a young driver I know insurance is high. All I want to do is find out how much the insurance is on each small car, so I can find the cheapest. E.G KA ETC. I have looked online such as confused.com and they ask you for the number plate and ask questions about the specific car. Obviously I can't fill it in because I haven't got one. Is there a website that will show all insurance companies and their prices????? Many thanks.""

Who makes the best affordable medical oxygen concentrator?

portable preferred

How can you get auto insurance after 2 DWI's?

How can you get auto insurance after 2 DWI's?

How much would I pay for insurance?

I am a 17 going to be 18 on October next year I am going to go and study in FL and I wanted to know about cars would buying a new one be better than an old one? how much would I pay for insurance with either new or old? I want to know exact prices to compare if it would be better to buy a new car or a used one? How much would I pay per month on the insurance?

Does Progressive raise your insurance rates for no reason?

I got a good quote from them online, but the main complaint I have heard is that they raise people's insurance for no reason. They got good initial quotes, but a couple months later, they raise them. Anybody know anything about that?""

Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

Andover Massachusetts Cheap car insurance quotes zip 5544

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/what-do-insurance-groups-cars-mean-instance-1-high-low-charles-taylor/"

[flauntpage]

What Sports Stories Would Have Broken Twitter If It Existed at the Time?

With O.J. Simpson in the news again for a random parole hearing, it's impossible not to think back to 1994-95 and the double murder of his wife Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, the infamous car chase, and the batshit trial that followed. The Simpson case transcended sports news to become a nationwide cultural phenomenon, and the jumping off point was Al Cowlings slowly driving that white Ford Bronco with police in pursuit. Can you imagine if Twitter and the total media saturation that the internet has unleashed upon us existed at that time? It would have been an absolute free-for-all.

With that in mind, we here at VICE Sports began wondering: What other news and events in sports history would have created an avalanche of tweets and memes and jokes and milkshake ducks had Twitter been around at the time? Or what would have just been an absolutely crazy, inescapable story that dominated the Twitter zeitgeist, where you knew you could get all the latest information about it as quickly as you possibly could?

We set out some criteria to narrow our options at least a little. First, obviously, Twitter must not have existed at the time of the event (so before 2006). The event also has to be within the past 30 years, and it has to be a specific moment, not, like, "the 2001 World Series." Here is what the staff of VICE Sports came up with, and the explanations behind our picks. Feel free to let us know which obvious ones we missed on Twitter.

Tonya Harding Taking Out Nancy Kerrigan

Tonya Harding's ex-husband and a friend hired a dude to break rival figure skater Nancy Kerrigan's leg so she wouldn't be able to compete in the 1994 Winter Olympics. That is to say, Nancy and Tonya had everything. It was bizarre, it was violent, it was totally unprecedented and yet to be replicated. It had the highest possible stakes and came as the culmination of the longstanding rivalry between two American athletes already in the public eye. Social class undercurrents? Yep, those, too. Not to mention the endless and endlessly cruel meme-ability of Nancy wailing "WHYYYYYY." And the existence of a man named Jeff Gillooly. And so many Tonya Harding-related things. It was brutality with a backstory, which is the perfect recipe for a sports scandal that could have liquified the internet. — Mike Piellucci

The Malice at the Palace

I was in high school when a fight between Ben Wallace and Ron Artest morphed into Ron Artest charging into the stands of Palace of Auburn Hills to fight fans. I had just gotten home from hanging out with friends but didn't feel like going to sleep, so I turned on ESPN. I wasn't much of a basketball guy; it was maybe the second or third game I had ever watched in my life, oddly enough. But I put it on in the background while I played OG Call of Duty on my desktop. During a break between games—or maybe as I waited for the lag to settle—I heard the announcers on TV screaming. I took off my headphones and turned to the TV to see Wallace and Artest going at it. I almost turned off the TV after their initial tussle settled. I'm glad I didn't.

If an NBA player charged into the stands now, I would immediately log onto Twitter, almost instinctually. I don't think it would have taken long for the Twitter magic to do its thing, meme-ing the "oh shit" face the little white dude made as Artest roared towards him, Austin Croshere caught momentarily on camera standing perfectly still as the entire arena erupted around him, Artest getting ushered off the court by his assistant coaches who have their hands draped over his head to protect him from the projectiles fans were hurling at him, the one kid standing over the Pacers tunnel who calmly upended a full bottle of soda on them. It was all Twitter gold, every last bit. Instead, I had to experience it all alone. It was worse for that. We all were. —Aaron Gordon

Brandi Chastain Wins 1999 World Cup

Look, for all its faults, international sporting event jingoism is also the fun kind of jingoism. Is it possible to Photoshop too many majestic bald eagles around Carli Fucking Lloyd? No, no it is not. And that's why I would have highly enjoyed Twitter had it been around for the 1999 World Cup final, and specifically the penalty shootout that gave the U.S. women the trophy. World Cup Twitter is already pretty good; add in the fact that everyone was watching this game, and that it took place at a reasonable hour of the day, and you have a classic in the making. Plus, high stakes, history, etc. Granted, during regulation you would have had a bunch of people moaning about soccer being the most boring sport in the world and ohmygod why hasn't anyone scored yet, but our patience would eventually have been rewarded. I still get goosebumps watching footage from the shootout today. I'm pretty sure Twitter would have been losing its collective mind by the time Brandi Chastain stepped up to take her kick. And afterward? Solid 24-karat meme gold, in all of Brandi's be-sports-bra'd glory. We would be printing out the best ones for weeks just to make sure they survived Y2K. —Caitlin Kelly

Pedro Martinez Curving Don Zimmer

At the height of the rivalry between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens met in Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS. Two hard-throwing hot heads (and Manny Ramirez) in a bitter rivalry gave birth to one of the most meme-able moments of all time. After Pedro plunked Yankee legend Karim Garcia in the fourth inning and generally taunted the Yankees in the proceeding outs, Manny Ramirez felt like a high fastball from Roger was intended as retaliation in the home half of the inning. So he charged the mound and the benches cleared.

The Yankees' tiny Popeye and general baseball legend Don Zimmer was none too pleased with Pedro, so he bullrushed him, and the Red Sox ace simply took him by his bald-ass head and spun the 72-year-old to the ground. I can't even begin to imagine what Twitter would have looked like during this, a playoff game, and also considerable downtime while the umpires tried to restore order. It would have been a neverending stream of when she just wants to be friends and tfw you get the insufficient funds notice and the impossible to recreate banter that happens in those kinds of moments. It would have been amazing.

(And I'm not too salty about it because Zim was OK, and Aaron Fucking Boone.) —Sean Newell

The Michael Jordan Shrug Game

For all its faults, sports Twitter is actually great when everyone can collectively enjoy the experience of an amazing individual sports performance. And few subsections of sports Twitter do this better than NBA Twitter. For example, NBA Twitter went crazy after Kevin Durant's eventual game-winning three-pointer against the Cavaliers in Game 3 of this year's NBA Finals.

But imagine what NBA Twitter would have been like at Michael Jordan's prime. Jordan crying at his NBA Hall of Fame induction ceremony became one of the biggest Twitter memes of all time. Jordan's actual on-the-court performance might have broken Twitter: the most famous athlete of all time, in his peak, on a worldwide social media platform.

Perhaps no Jordan moment might have captured Twitter's attention more than the famous shrug game. For those unfamiliar, Jordan and the Bulls entered the '92 Finals against the Portland Trailblazers trying to become the first repeat champions since the '89-90 Detroit Pistons. Jordan's Game 1 performance set a tone for the entire series. Jordan hit six three-pointers in the first half. After one of them, he turned toward the NBA announcer's table, where former Laker Magic Johnson was sitting, and just shrugged, as if in disbelief. It was one of the most iconic moments of an iconic career. Jordan scored 39 points in the game and the Bulls won the series in six games. —Jorge Arangure

Shaquille O'Neal Signs With the Los Angeles Lakers

The Orlando Magic blew it. Losing Shaq to the Lakers in 1996 was arguably the biggest sports front office fuck-up of the last thirty years, a free agency failure that absolutely, positively did not have to happen. Only it did, and the sheer improbability, slow-motion implosion, and ha-ha rubbernecking of it all would have been perfect for Twitter.

Let's go back in time. O'Neal was the NBA's new big thing, one of the most dominant forces in league history, a player who in his first four seasons made three All-NBA teams, was named MVP runner-up, and lead the Magic to the Finals. And Orlando had the inside track on re-signing him: not only did the franchise look like a budding dynasty thanks to the presence of Penny Hardaway, but it also was the only NBA team that could exceed the league's salary cap to pay O'Neal whatever he wanted—there were no max salaries at the time, and no luxury tax for exceeding the cap.

Yet rather than produce a blank check, the Magic low-balled O'Neal, promising him less money than Alonzo Mourning and Juwan Freaking Howard were making. Meanwhile, Jerry West and the Lakers cleared cap space to make an offer of their own, in part by trading Vlade Divac for the rights to a rookie named Kobe Bryant. Rather than aggressively counter, Orlando continued to nickle-and-dime O'Neal—eventually alienating him so badly that bolted for Los Angeles, ruining the Magic and revitalizing the Lakers.

On Twitter, this would have been Peak NBA Free Agency—as big as The Decision, crazier than the DeAndre Jordan Affair, fodder for snark and analysis and 1,000 little deaths by Wojbomb. There would have been twists and turns, rumors and leaks, and at least one contrarian Tweetstorm arguing that #actually losing O'Neal was the smart play for the Magic. It's a pity we only had newspapers and SportsCenter. —Patrick Hruby

Bill Buckner

Twitter is not for good things. Twitter is for amplifying the worst of us: shameless self-promotion, baseless speculation, and unproductive meanness. That's why Bill Buckner's error in the 1986 World Series would have been the perfect Twitter moment. There's the play itself, torturous and slow. Then there is the fallout. Millions of online Boston fans yelling into the void until two days later, the Mets put them out of their misery, continuing a decades-long World Series drought. —Eric Nusbaum

Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes Burns Down Andre Rison's House

When Atlanta Falcons receiver Andre Rison returned to his suburban Atlanta home at five in the morning on the night of June 8, 1994, he was "very sober." This is what he told People Magazine, anyway, although that makes it just one of the perspectives worth considering in the story of how his girlfriend of 15 months, TLC's Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes, came to burn down the house they shared.

Rison told People that Lopes had been drinking, and that she began laying into him first with words and then "blows to the face" before he even got inside; he told People that, once inside, he slapped her back "not to hurt her," he said, "but to calm her." The reasons for all this were unclear at the time, but also clear enough—it had to do with Rison buying dozens of pairs of sneakers for himself and none for Lopes, or it was something else; it had to do with him coming home from a club at five in the morning, or it didn't; it involved at least one heroically inebriated counterparty, or two, or more.

Anyway, what followed the disputed dispute is the sort of act that defies ambiguity. Lopes set fire to Rison's new sneakers in an upstairs bathroom, and that fire wound up consuming Rison's 15,000-square-foot home and burning nearly everything he owned. While the house burned, Lopes used the pipe from a vacuum cleaner to smash the windows and windshields in Rison's cars. In the People story, datelined June 27, Rison was already talking about reconciliation. "I have cried a lot," he said. "But I can't say that I've shed one tear for the house. I can replace a house, but I can't replace the life I had, or a certain girl." The two were still a couple, albeit of the intermittent and consistently combative kind, when Lopes died in a car accident in Honduras, in 2002.

There is a lot here; none of it is uncomplicated and most of it is unsettling. The parts of it that would have appeared in blaring capital letters between ellipses in a TMZ headline had it happened ten years later are what they are, and they are dramatic—one of the most talented and popular musicians of the moment, a Pro Bowl receiver on the swaggiest and highest-profile seven-win teams in NFL history, an $800,000 home cratered by flames. The rest of it, the grottier parts that the ellipses conceal, is both more bleak and more familiar—a highly conspicuous rolling blackout of shitfaced public fights and domestic violence and dropped charges.

Relationships like this, the kind that are too big to be safe for anyone involved, have always been around, and always been a part of celebrity culture. This one, both the apotheotic arson and the innumerable smaller public conflagrations, would have been inescapable in our current media age, and three times as loud. Those concealing ellipses would be asked to do a tremendous amount of work. That part, at least, hasn't changed. —David Roth

When Dale Earnhardt Crashed at Daytona

I grew up in a family who loves race cars—watching them, building them, and even driving them—but I've never considered myself a fan of racing. Loud cars driving fast while making left hand turns was never my thing, unless the cars crashed, flipped, tires went flying, or fires had to be put out. Only then did I find racing kinda cool. But for my family, racing was a way of life and, whether I liked it or not, I had to be around it enough to where I knew Jeff Gordon drove a rainbow car, Tony Stewart was a hot-headed jerk, and Dale Earnhardt Sr. was the best.

I was only nine years old when Earnhardt Sr. crashed into a wall during the final lap of the 2001 Daytona 500, and although I most likely would not have been active on Twitter if it had existed then, I can only imagine what it would have been like, from the excitement of the final lap, to the initial reaction following what looked like a routine crash, to debating about if he could come back and win it next season, to rumors developing over his condition, to trying to confirm his death, to mourning and remembering. It wasn't happening on Twitter then, but it was happening on different TV channels and over the phone as my relatives called each other to ask if they saw or heard what had happened. I remember being really sad because everyone around me was sad—but not "#RIP to the legend" sad, more like crying and in shock sad.

If Twitter had existed in 2001, it would be more than just the racing and NASCAR community sharing their condolences. Everyone would be commenting on the death of one of the greatest, even if they didn't know that he drove a No. 3 car or had a trademark mustache and wore sunglasses that were way too big for his face. Twitter would have been painted red, black, and white and his face or the iconic No. 3 would be used as profile pictures for years to come. But Twitter didn't exist, so instead we are left finding the occasional "In Memory" sticker plastered on the back of a pick-up truck next to a confederate flag decal. —Karisa Maxwell

The Death of Len Bias

No player in the history of basketball went from being "the future" to "the past" faster than Len Bias, the second overall pick in the 1986 NBA Draft who died of a cocaine overdose two days after he became a Boston Celtic. Bias was like a shredded, 6'8" Charles Barkley, with a commercial and on-court appeal that veered near Michael Jordan's orbit.

Everything about his death would shatter Twitter, though analogizing it to something more current is almost impossible. College basketball players are no longer prepackaged stars (Bias spent four seasons at the University of Maryland and was the ACC Player of the Year as a junior and senior) and, several generations later, this country is simultaneously numb to and better informed about the aftermath of drug use.

But if it somehow did happen today, the actual news of Bias's death would eventually be replaced by nauseating debates over the cultural aftershock. Numerous scandals would rain for months, with daily revelations about his agent's actions—how much money Bias was allowed to spend in the months leading up to his death—the criminal trial involving his teammates to uncover where the cocaine came from, the simultaneous coverup and gross neglect by Maryland, men's basketball coach Lefty Driesell, and the NCAA, how congress should respond (lol), and on and on.

Everyone would get dragged through the mud, because nothing synthesizes the elements of a catastrophe and transforms them into a giant cesspool more effectively than Twitter. To this day, imagining how Bias's career would've played out is a gut punch. Dealing with such a regrettable tragedy live, on Twitter, would be so much worse.

Update: We are going to drop good suggestions in here as they come in, and honestly, we should all be fired for forgetting these first two:

What Sports Stories Would Have Broken Twitter If It Existed at the Time? published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[mannycentral]

STORY TIME! Just letting you know this is a long post so don't read if you don't have the time. I'm so tired of dating lames. Seriously, I went on two different dates. The first one, claimed he was super into me. I drove 3 hours to get meet him (would have been 1 hour on the freeway, but I haven't learned yet cause I'm a new driver so I took the streets) and he didn't even appreciate it. When he got in my car he broke my viser, I was so mad about it like have you never been inside of a car? How did you break this? Then, he suggests I take him to the beach, which I did! And while we're there he's kind of touchy which is fine. Eventually, I kissed him but soon after that he stops paying any attention to me and is taking Selfies for days. I'm like dude, you got a few pictures in now let's get back to the date. He's still on his phone so I'm like whatever. I take him back home where he finally kisses me back but is more like a make out session and I'm caught off guard by it. But he tells me to text him when I get home so I agree. I get home, text him, he doesn't really text me back. This goes on for like 2 weeks. He's uninterested, doesn't talk to me, says he's going through things, says he can't tell me over the phone that he has to do it in person. I'm not going to drive 3 hours just for him to tell me something he can tell me on face time. Eventually, we talk and he says he's got a lot on his mind and I get that. He tells me he's going to party it up in Vegas for a few days and kind of says he might fuck with someone else if he meets someone and I'm really dude? But he says he's "joking" so I ignore it. Not to mention whenever I would flirt with he wouldn't flirt back with me anymore. He'd just shut me down with that's cute, or awww. So I finally just said hey, if you're not interested just let me know so I don't waste my time. He got mad about it and basically said bye lol I'm not surprised, but I knew this guy was probably just trying to keep me around. He was probably talking to other people. Anyways, the second date I went on was even weirder. I started talking to this dude and I wasn't all that interested because I was still salty about the first date mentioned above lol but we ended up talking on the phone and it was the most coolest conversation I ever had with another guy in a long time. We talked about our work lives, we talked about our goals and aspirations, current obstacles in the way and what we could do to get around them. It felt good. It felt progressive like I could grow by being connected with this person somehow so I was digging it. The next morning lol.. Tell me why this asshole sends me a good morning text saying "Good morning, Fugly"? I was laying in bed like maybe it was a typo? HAHA 😂 no, there's no way. So I asked, hey, was that for me? And he blatantly said yes and I said well that's rude and idk why you would say that. And he says," I mean, fugly in a hottie way " and I was like... How long have I been out of the dating scene? Oh yeah, four years! (broke up with my ex btw) but is this what the kids are saying to each other now??? Because that to me sounds inexcusable. So I decided to let it go AFTER he apologized because everybody deserves one chance. Fast forward to out actual date, now, I'm not judging anybody but when I met him he was a lot more feminine then he led on during our phone call. It's NOT a bad thing, I don't care about that. Fem guys are awesome, Masc guys are awesome. As long as you're not an asshole to me, I fucking love you lol but I'm only mentioning this because I feel like his diva self was revealed and he was kind of rude here and there with little comments. Anyways, he's high maintenance. He seems to come from a more fortunate home than I do and didn't quite understand my perspective on things which is fine but he was judging. He has a nice car and was complaining about how ugly it is and I was saying how if I had his car I would be so happy because mine is a bucket lol my headlight is hanging off a bit and my bumper is hanging off a bit. It's got scratches, but hey, I get to point A and point B just fine and I pay my bills so fuck off if you think differently 😂 so we went to watch a movie, he picks boss baby and I'm okay with it. I love animation anyways. He turns to me, says what are you wearing? And I said huh? He says whatever bath and body works you're wearing, it smells. I said, oh it's almond and vanilla 😁😁 and he says oh no wonder why it stinks. And I was so taken back like I thought you said it smells good? And he said no, I never said it smelt good, I just said it smells. And I was like fuck you lol I didn't say that but I was thinking it because I'm not rude and the optimist in me assumed it was going to be a compliment because who doesn't like almond or vanilla? Are you Satan? Plus, I didn't want to wear anything overpowering. It's a pretty basic scent. But he goes on to say he prefers more sweet and pretty fragrances. I'm like alright, whatever. I didn't give up just yet so I reached for his hand and I grabbed it. Held it. Thought it'd be cute, he starts complaining that my grip is too hard and I'm hurting his hand. I'm like omg. Sorry? He was literally just bitching and complaining the whole date now that I think about it more. But we were watching the movie and surprisingly it was really funny and I kept laughing and so was he. We turn to each other while we're laughing and to my fucking surprise he grabs my face and starts making out with me. I'm in this whoa phase like what's going on? I didn't think he wanted me at this point. After we're done kissing, he just smiles at me and I'm looking at him for a response so I say what? He shakes his head and says "nothing" . I'm so confused at this point because does he like me? Does he think I'm gross? Idk. Another 15 mins pass, he pulls the same move! We're making out again, same response. Still fucking confused! The movie is over, we go to our cars. He's sitting in his and I'm leaning on mine cause we're parked next to each other. He points out the headlight on my car and I'm like Yeah, I know. He starts bumping Ariana Grande's "Into You" says that's his jam or something. I was like are you trying to tell me something? Haha eventually he leaves, I go home. I text him saying that I had a good time with him and hope he had a good one as well. He said yes, he did but then pulls the same shit the first guy did. Stops talking to me. This time, I didn't hit him up. I just let the dude fade away lol I was like if you're not interested then you'll just disappear so I'm going to go ahead and let you do that. Which is exactly what happened. Havent heard from him so I deleted his number last night. The date was almost two weeks ago. But, here I am. After two shitty dates I've already lost hope in dating in the LGBT community. I could respect more if people were more upfront and say that they're not feeling me. Rather than lie to my face, show me affection by kissing me and holding my hand, etc. Like if I'm not interested I'll let you know. Not in a rude way but I'll let you know. I'm not going to lead someone on. What's the point in that? I don't know lol but anyways, I'm a little discouraged about going on another date right now. That's the whole point of this long ass post because I have a few people asking me out but I don't want to go. I feel like it'll just be another let down another waste of my time. So, should I go? Or should I just stay single. What would you guys do? Would you keep dating?

[flauntpage]

What Sports Stories Would Have Broken Twitter If It Existed at the Time?

With O.J. Simpson in the news again for a random parole hearing, it's impossible not to think back to 1994-95 and the double murder of his wife Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, the infamous car chase, and the batshit trial that followed. The Simpson case transcended sports news to become a nationwide cultural phenomenon, and the jumping off point was Al Cowlings slowly driving that white Ford Bronco with police in pursuit. Can you imagine if Twitter and the total media saturation that the internet has unleashed upon us existed at that time? It would have been an absolute free-for-all.

With that in mind, we here at VICE Sports began wondering: What other news and events in sports history would have created an avalanche of tweets and memes and jokes and milkshake ducks had Twitter been around at the time? Or what would have just been an absolutely crazy, inescapable story that dominated the Twitter zeitgeist, where you knew you could get all the latest information about it as quickly as you possibly could?

We set out some criteria to narrow our options at least a little. First, obviously, Twitter must not have existed at the time of the event (so before 2006). The event also has to be within the past 30 years, and it has to be a specific moment, not, like, "the 2001 World Series." Here is what the staff of VICE Sports came up with, and the explanations behind our picks. Feel free to let us know which obvious ones we missed on Twitter.

Tonya Harding Taking Out Nancy Kerrigan

Tonya Harding's ex-husband and a friend hired a dude to break rival figure skater Nancy Kerrigan's leg so she wouldn't be able to compete in the 1994 Winter Olympics. That is to say, Nancy and Tonya had everything. It was bizarre, it was violent, it was totally unprecedented and yet to be replicated. It had the highest possible stakes and came as the culmination of the longstanding rivalry between two American athletes already in the public eye. Social class undercurrents? Yep, those, too. Not to mention the endless and endlessly cruel meme-ability of Nancy wailing "WHYYYYYY." And the existence of a man named Jeff Gillooly. And so many Tonya Harding-related things. It was brutality with a backstory, which is the perfect recipe for a sports scandal that could have liquified the internet. — Mike Piellucci

The Malice at the Palace

I was in high school when a fight between Ben Wallace and Ron Artest morphed into Ron Artest charging into the stands of Palace of Auburn Hills to fight fans. I had just gotten home from hanging out with friends but didn't feel like going to sleep, so I turned on ESPN. I wasn't much of a basketball guy; it was maybe the second or third game I had ever watched in my life, oddly enough. But I put it on in the background while I played OG Call of Duty on my desktop. During a break between games—or maybe as I waited for the lag to settle—I heard the announcers on TV screaming. I took off my headphones and turned to the TV to see Wallace and Artest going at it. I almost turned off the TV after their initial tussle settled. I'm glad I didn't.

If an NBA player charged into the stands now, I would immediately log onto Twitter, almost instinctually. I don't think it would have taken long for the Twitter magic to do its thing, meme-ing the "oh shit" face the little white dude made as Artest roared towards him, Austin Croshere caught momentarily on camera standing perfectly still as the entire arena erupted around him, Artest getting ushered off the court by his assistant coaches who have their hands draped over his head to protect him from the projectiles fans were hurling at him, the one kid standing over the Pacers tunnel who calmly upended a full bottle of soda on them. It was all Twitter gold, every last bit. Instead, I had to experience it all alone. It was worse for that. We all were. —Aaron Gordon

Brandi Chastain Wins 1999 World Cup

Look, for all its faults, international sporting event jingoism is also the fun kind of jingoism. Is it possible to Photoshop too many majestic bald eagles around Carli Fucking Lloyd? No, no it is not. And that's why I would have highly enjoyed Twitter had it been around for the 1999 World Cup final, and specifically the penalty shootout that gave the U.S. women the trophy. World Cup Twitter is already pretty good; add in the fact that everyone was watching this game, and that it took place at a reasonable hour of the day, and you have a classic in the making. Plus, high stakes, history, etc. Granted, during regulation you would have had a bunch of people moaning about soccer being the most boring sport in the world and ohmygod why hasn't anyone scored yet, but our patience would eventually have been rewarded. I still get goosebumps watching footage from the shootout today. I'm pretty sure Twitter would have been losing its collective mind by the time Brandi Chastain stepped up to take her kick. And afterward? Solid 24-karat meme gold, in all of Brandi's be-sports-bra'd glory. We would be printing out the best ones for weeks just to make sure they survived Y2K. —Caitlin Kelly

Pedro Martinez Curving Don Zimmer

At the height of the rivalry between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens met in Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS. Two hard-throwing hot heads (and Manny Ramirez) in a bitter rivalry gave birth to one of the most meme-able moments of all time. After Pedro plunked Yankee legend Karim Garcia in the fourth inning and generally taunted the Yankees in the proceeding outs, Manny Ramirez felt like a high fastball from Roger was intended as retaliation in the home half of the inning. So he charged the mound and the benches cleared.

The Yankees' tiny Popeye and general baseball legend Don Zimmer was none too pleased with Pedro, so he bullrushed him, and the Red Sox ace simply took him by his bald-ass head and spun the 72-year-old to the ground. I can't even begin to imagine what Twitter would have looked like during this, a playoff game, and also considerable downtime while the umpires tried to restore order. It would have been a neverending stream of when she just wants to be friends and tfw you get the insufficient funds notice and the impossible to recreate banter that happens in those kinds of moments. It would have been amazing.

(And I'm not too salty about it because Zim was OK, and Aaron Fucking Boone.) —Sean Newell

The Michael Jordan Shrug Game

For all its faults, sports Twitter is actually great when everyone can collectively enjoy the experience of an amazing individual sports performance. And few subsections of sports Twitter do this better than NBA Twitter. For example, NBA Twitter went crazy after Kevin Durant's eventual game-winning three-pointer against the Cavaliers in Game 3 of this year's NBA Finals.

But imagine what NBA Twitter would have been like at Michael Jordan's prime. Jordan crying at his NBA Hall of Fame induction ceremony became one of the biggest Twitter memes of all time. Jordan's actual on-the-court performance might have broken Twitter: the most famous athlete of all time, in his peak, on a worldwide social media platform.

Perhaps no Jordan moment might have captured Twitter's attention more than the famous shrug game. For those unfamiliar, Jordan and the Bulls entered the '92 Finals against the Portland Trailblazers trying to become the first repeat champions since the '89-90 Detroit Pistons. Jordan's Game 1 performance set a tone for the entire series. Jordan hit six three-pointers in the first half. After one of them, he turned toward the NBA announcer's table, where former Laker Magic Johnson was sitting, and just shrugged, as if in disbelief. It was one of the most iconic moments of an iconic career. Jordan scored 39 points in the game and the Bulls won the series in six games. —Jorge Arangure

Shaquille O'Neal Signs With the Los Angeles Lakers

The Orlando Magic blew it. Losing Shaq to the Lakers in 1996 was arguably the biggest sports front office fuck-up of the last thirty years, a free agency failure that absolutely, positively did not have to happen. Only it did, and the sheer improbability, slow-motion implosion, and ha-ha rubbernecking of it all would have been perfect for Twitter.

Let's go back in time. O'Neal was the NBA's new big thing, one of the most dominant forces in league history, a player who in his first four seasons made three All-NBA teams, was named MVP runner-up, and lead the Magic to the Finals. And Orlando had the inside track on re-signing him: not only did the franchise look like a budding dynasty thanks to the presence of Penny Hardaway, but it also was the only NBA team that could exceed the league's salary cap to pay O'Neal whatever he wanted—there were no max salaries at the time, and no luxury tax for exceeding the cap.

Yet rather than produce a blank check, the Magic low-balled O'Neal, promising him less money than Alonzo Mourning and Juwan Freaking Howard were making. Meanwhile, Jerry West and the Lakers cleared cap space to make an offer of their own, in part by trading Vlade Divac for the rights to a rookie named Kobe Bryant. Rather than aggressively counter, Orlando continued to nickle-and-dime O'Neal—eventually alienating him so badly that bolted for Los Angeles, ruining the Magic and revitalizing the Lakers.

On Twitter, this would have been Peak NBA Free Agency—as big as The Decision, crazier than the DeAndre Jordan Affair, fodder for snark and analysis and 1,000 little deaths by Wojbomb. There would have been twists and turns, rumors and leaks, and at least one contrarian Tweetstorm arguing that #actually losing O'Neal was the smart play for the Magic. It's a pity we only had newspapers and SportsCenter. —Patrick Hruby

Bill Buckner

Twitter is not for good things. Twitter is for amplifying the worst of us: shameless self-promotion, baseless speculation, and unproductive meanness. That's why Bill Buckner's error in the 1986 World Series would have been the perfect Twitter moment. There's the play itself, torturous and slow. Then there is the fallout. Millions of online Boston fans yelling into the void until two days later, the Mets put them out of their misery, continuing a decades-long World Series drought. —Eric Nusbaum

Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes Burns Down Andre Rison's House

When Atlanta Falcons receiver Andre Rison returned to his suburban Atlanta home at five in the morning on the night of June 8, 1994, he was "very sober." This is what he told People Magazine, anyway, although that makes it just one of the perspectives worth considering in the story of how his girlfriend of 15 months, TLC's Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes, came to burn down the house they shared.

Rison told People that Lopes had been drinking, and that she began laying into him first with words and then "blows to the face" before he even got inside; he told People that, once inside, he slapped her back "not to hurt her," he said, "but to calm her." The reasons for all this were unclear at the time, but also clear enough—it had to do with Rison buying dozens of pairs of sneakers for himself and none for Lopes, or it was something else; it had to do with him coming home from a club at five in the morning, or it didn't; it involved at least one heroically inebriated counterparty, or two, or more.

Anyway, what followed the disputed dispute is the sort of act that defies ambiguity. Lopes set fire to Rison's new sneakers in an upstairs bathroom, and that fire wound up consuming Rison's 15,000-square-foot home and burning nearly everything he owned. While the house burned, Lopes used the pipe from a vacuum cleaner to smash the windows and windshields in Rison's cars. In the People story, datelined June 27, Rison was already talking about reconciliation. "I have cried a lot," he said. "But I can't say that I've shed one tear for the house. I can replace a house, but I can't replace the life I had, or a certain girl." The two were still a couple, albeit of the intermittent and consistently combative kind, when Lopes died in a car accident in Honduras, in 2002.

There is a lot here; none of it is uncomplicated and most of it is unsettling. The parts of it that would have appeared in blaring capital letters between ellipses in a TMZ headline had it happened ten years later are what they are, and they are dramatic—one of the most talented and popular musicians of the moment, a Pro Bowl receiver on the swaggiest and highest-profile seven-win teams in NFL history, an $800,000 home cratered by flames. The rest of it, the grottier parts that the ellipses conceal, is both more bleak and more familiar—a highly conspicuous rolling blackout of shitfaced public fights and domestic violence and dropped charges.

Relationships like this, the kind that are too big to be safe for anyone involved, have always been around, and always been a part of celebrity culture. This one, both the apotheotic arson and the innumerable smaller public conflagrations, would have been inescapable in our current media age, and three times as loud. Those concealing ellipses would be asked to do a tremendous amount of work. That part, at least, hasn't changed. —David Roth

When Dale Earnhardt Crashed at Daytona

I grew up in a family who loves race cars—watching them, building them, and even driving them—but I've never considered myself a fan of racing. Loud cars driving fast while making left hand turns was never my thing, unless the cars crashed, flipped, tires went flying, or fires had to be put out. Only then did I find racing kinda cool. But for my family, racing was a way of life and, whether I liked it or not, I had to be around it enough to where I knew Jeff Gordon drove a rainbow car, Tony Stewart was a hot-headed jerk, and Dale Earnhardt Sr. was the best.

I was only nine years old when Earnhardt Sr. crashed into a wall during the final lap of the 2001 Daytona 500, and although I most likely would not have been active on Twitter if it had existed then, I can only imagine what it would have been like, from the excitement of the final lap, to the initial reaction following what looked like a routine crash, to debating about if he could come back and win it next season, to rumors developing over his condition, to trying to confirm his death, to mourning and remembering. It wasn't happening on Twitter then, but it was happening on different TV channels and over the phone as my relatives called each other to ask if they saw or heard what had happened. I remember being really sad because everyone around me was sad—but not "#RIP to the legend" sad, more like crying and in shock sad.

If Twitter had existed in 2001, it would be more than just the racing and NASCAR community sharing their condolences. Everyone would be commenting on the death of one of the greatest, even if they didn't know that he drove a No. 3 car or had a trademark mustache and wore sunglasses that were way too big for his face. Twitter would have been painted red, black, and white and his face or the iconic No. 3 would be used as profile pictures for years to come. But Twitter didn't exist, so instead we are left finding the occasional "In Memory" sticker plastered on the back of a pick-up truck next to a confederate flag decal. —Karisa Maxwell

Update: We are going to drop good suggestions in here as they come in, and honestly, we should all be fired for forgetting these first two:

What Sports Stories Would Have Broken Twitter If It Existed at the Time? published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[flauntpage]

What Sports Stories Would Have Broken Twitter If It Existed at the Time?

With O.J. Simpson in the news again for a random parole hearing, it's impossible not to think back to 1994-95 and the double murder of his wife Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, the infamous car chase, and the batshit trial that followed. The Simpson case transcended sports news to become a nationwide cultural phenomenon, and the jumping off point was Al Cowlings slowly driving that white Ford Bronco with police in pursuit. Can you imagine if Twitter and the total media saturation that the internet has unleashed upon us existed at that time? It would have been an absolute free-for-all.

With that in mind, we here at VICE Sports began wondering: What other news and events in sports history would have created an avalanche of tweets and memes and jokes and milkshake ducks had Twitter been around at the time? Or what would have just been an absolutely crazy, inescapable story that dominated the Twitter zeitgeist, where you knew you could get all the latest information about it as quickly as you possibly could?

We set out some criteria to narrow our options at least a little. First, obviously, Twitter must not have existed at the time of the event (so before 2006). The event also has to be within the past 30 years, and it has to be a specific moment, not, like, "the 2001 World Series." Here is what the staff of VICE Sports came up with, and the explanations behind our picks. Feel free to let us know which obvious ones we missed on Twitter.

Tonya Harding Taking Out Nancy Kerrigan

Tonya Harding's ex-husband and a friend hired a dude to break rival figure skater Nancy Kerrigan's leg so she wouldn't be able to compete in the 1994 Winter Olympics. That is to say, Nancy and Tonya had everything. It was bizarre, it was violent, it was totally unprecedented and yet to be replicated. It had the highest possible stakes and came as the culmination of the longstanding rivalry between two American athletes already in the public eye. Social class undercurrents? Yep, those, too. Not to mention the endless and endlessly cruel meme-ability of Nancy wailing "WHYYYYYY." And the existence of a man named Jeff Gillooly. And so many Tonya Harding-related things. It was brutality with a backstory, which is the perfect recipe for a sports scandal that could have liquified the internet. — Mike Piellucci

The Malice at the Palace

I was in high school when a fight between Ben Wallace and Ron Artest morphed into Ron Artest charging into the stands of Palace of Auburn Hills to fight fans. I had just gotten home from hanging out with friends but didn't feel like going to sleep, so I turned on ESPN. I wasn't much of a basketball guy; it was maybe the second or third game I had ever watched in my life, oddly enough. But I put it on in the background while I played OG Call of Duty on my desktop. During a break between games—or maybe as I waited for the lag to settle—I heard the announcers on TV screaming. I took off my headphones and turned to the TV to see Wallace and Artest going at it. I almost turned off the TV after their initial tussle settled. I'm glad I didn't.

If an NBA player charged into the stands now, I would immediately log onto Twitter, almost instinctually. I don't think it would have taken long for the Twitter magic to do its thing, meme-ing the "oh shit" face the little white dude made as Artest roared towards him, Austin Croshere caught momentarily on camera standing perfectly still as the entire arena erupted around him, Artest getting ushered off the court by his assistant coaches who have their hands draped over his head to protect him from the projectiles fans were hurling at him, the one kid standing over the Pacers tunnel who calmly upended a full bottle of soda on them. It was all Twitter gold, every last bit. Instead, I had to experience it all alone. It was worse for that. We all were. —Aaron Gordon

Brandi Chastain Wins 1999 World Cup

Look, for all its faults, international sporting event jingoism is also the fun kind of jingoism. Is it possible to Photoshop too many majestic bald eagles around Carli Fucking Lloyd? No, no it is not. And that's why I would have highly enjoyed Twitter had it been around for the 1999 World Cup final, and specifically the penalty shootout that gave the U.S. women the trophy. World Cup Twitter is already pretty good; add in the fact that everyone was watching this game, and that it took place at a reasonable hour of the day, and you have a classic in the making. Plus, high stakes, history, etc. Granted, during regulation you would have had a bunch of people moaning about soccer being the most boring sport in the world and ohmygod why hasn't anyone scored yet, but our patience would eventually have been rewarded. I still get goosebumps watching footage from the shootout today. I'm pretty sure Twitter would have been losing its collective mind by the time Brandi Chastain stepped up to take her kick. And afterward? Solid 24-karat meme gold, in all of Brandi's be-sports-bra'd glory. We would be printing out the best ones for weeks just to make sure they survived Y2K. —Caitlin Kelly

Pedro Martinez Curving Don Zimmer

At the height of the rivalry between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens met in Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS. Two hard-throwing hot heads (and Manny Ramirez) in a bitter rivalry gave birth to one of the most meme-able moments of all time. After Pedro plunked Yankee legend Karim Garcia in the fourth inning and generally taunted the Yankees in the proceeding outs, Manny Ramirez felt like a high fastball from Roger was intended as retaliation in the home half of the inning. So he charged the mound and the benches cleared.

The Yankees' tiny Popeye and general baseball legend Don Zimmer was none too pleased with Pedro, so he bullrushed him, and the Red Sox ace simply took him by his bald-ass head and spun the 72-year-old to the ground. I can't even begin to imagine what Twitter would have looked like during this, a playoff game, and also considerable downtime while the umpires tried to restore order. It would have been a neverending stream of when she just wants to be friends and tfw you get the insufficient funds notice and the impossible to recreate banter that happens in those kinds of moments. It would have been amazing.

(And I'm not too salty about it because Zim was OK, and Aaron Fucking Boone.) —Sean Newell

The Michael Jordan Shrug Game

For all its faults, sports Twitter is actually great when everyone can collectively enjoy the experience of an amazing individual sports performance. And few subsections of sports Twitter do this better than NBA Twitter. For example, NBA Twitter went crazy after Kevin Durant's eventual game-winning three-pointer against the Cavaliers in Game 3 of this year's NBA Finals.

But imagine what NBA Twitter would have been like at Michael Jordan's prime. Jordan crying at his NBA Hall of Fame induction ceremony became one of the biggest Twitter memes of all time. Jordan's actual on-the-court performance might have broken Twitter: the most famous athlete of all time, in his peak, on a worldwide social media platform.

Perhaps no Jordan moment might have captured Twitter's attention more than the famous shrug game. For those unfamiliar, Jordan and the Bulls entered the '92 Finals against the Portland Trailblazers trying to become the first repeat champions since the '89-90 Detroit Pistons. Jordan's Game 1 performance set a tone for the entire series. Jordan hit six three-pointers in the first half. After one of them, he turned toward the NBA announcer's table, where former Laker Magic Johnson was sitting, and just shrugged, as if in disbelief. It was one of the most iconic moments of an iconic career. Jordan scored 39 points in the game and the Bulls won the series in six games. —Jorge Arangure

Shaquille O'Neal Signs With the Los Angeles Lakers

The Orlando Magic blew it. Losing Shaq to the Lakers in 1996 was arguably the biggest sports front office fuck-up of the last thirty years, a free agency failure that absolutely, positively did not have to happen. Only it did, and the sheer improbability, slow-motion implosion, and ha-ha rubbernecking of it all would have been perfect for Twitter.

Let's go back in time. O'Neal was the NBA's new big thing, one of the most dominant forces in league history, a player who in his first four seasons made three All-NBA teams, was named MVP runner-up, and lead the Magic to the Finals. And Orlando had the inside track on re-signing him: not only did the franchise look like a budding dynasty thanks to the presence of Penny Hardaway, but it also was the only NBA team that could exceed the league's salary cap to pay O'Neal whatever he wanted—there were no max salaries at the time, and no luxury tax for exceeding the cap.

Yet rather than produce a blank check, the Magic low-balled O'Neal, promising him less money than Alonzo Mourning and Juwan Freaking Howard were making. Meanwhile, Jerry West and the Lakers cleared cap space to make an offer of their own, in part by trading Vlade Divac for the rights to a rookie named Kobe Bryant. Rather than aggressively counter, Orlando continued to nickle-and-dime O'Neal—eventually alienating him so badly that bolted for Los Angeles, ruining the Magic and revitalizing the Lakers.

On Twitter, this would have been Peak NBA Free Agency—as big as The Decision, crazier than the DeAndre Jordan Affair, fodder for snark and analysis and 1,000 little deaths by Wojbomb. There would have been twists and turns, rumors and leaks, and at least one contrarian Tweetstorm arguing that #actually losing O'Neal was the smart play for the Magic. It's a pity we only had newspapers and SportsCenter. —Patrick Hruby

Bill Buckner

Twitter is not for good things. Twitter is for amplifying the worst of us: shameless self-promotion, baseless speculation, and unproductive meanness. That's why Bill Buckner's error in the 1986 World Series would have been the perfect Twitter moment. There's the play itself, torturous and slow. Then there is the fallout. Millions of online Boston fans yelling into the void until two days later, the Mets put them out of their misery, continuing a decades-long World Series drought. —Eric Nusbaum

Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes Burns Down Andre Rison's House

When Atlanta Falcons receiver Andre Rison returned to his suburban Atlanta home at five in the morning on the night of June 8, 1994, he was "very sober." This is what he told People Magazine, anyway, although that makes it just one of the perspectives worth considering in the story of how his girlfriend of 15 months, TLC's Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes, came to burn down the house they shared.

Rison told People that Lopes had been drinking, and that she began laying into him first with words and then "blows to the face" before he even got inside; he told People that, once inside, he slapped her back "not to hurt her," he said, "but to calm her." The reasons for all this were unclear at the time, but also clear enough—it had to do with Rison buying dozens of pairs of sneakers for himself and none for Lopes, or it was something else; it had to do with him coming home from a club at five in the morning, or it didn't; it involved at least one heroically inebriated counterparty, or two, or more.

Anyway, what followed the disputed dispute is the sort of act that defies ambiguity. Lopes set fire to Rison's new sneakers in an upstairs bathroom, and that fire wound up consuming Rison's 15,000-square-foot home and burning nearly everything he owned. While the house burned, Lopes used the pipe from a vacuum cleaner to smash the windows and windshields in Rison's cars. In the People story, datelined June 27, Rison was already talking about reconciliation. "I have cried a lot," he said. "But I can't say that I've shed one tear for the house. I can replace a house, but I can't replace the life I had, or a certain girl." The two were still a couple, albeit of the intermittent and consistently combative kind, when Lopes died in a car accident in Honduras, in 2002.

There is a lot here; none of it is uncomplicated and most of it is unsettling. The parts of it that would have appeared in blaring capital letters between ellipses in a TMZ headline had it happened ten years later are what they are, and they are dramatic—one of the most talented and popular musicians of the moment, a Pro Bowl receiver on the swaggiest and highest-profile seven-win teams in NFL history, an $800,000 home cratered by flames. The rest of it, the grottier parts that the ellipses conceal, is both more bleak and more familiar—a highly conspicuous rolling blackout of shitfaced public fights and domestic violence and dropped charges.

Relationships like this, the kind that are too big to be safe for anyone involved, have always been around, and always been a part of celebrity culture. This one, both the apotheotic arson and the innumerable smaller public conflagrations, would have been inescapable in our current media age, and three times as loud. Those concealing ellipses would be asked to do a tremendous amount of work. That part, at least, hasn't changed. —David Roth

When Dale Earnhardt Crashed at Daytona

I grew up in a family who loves race cars—watching them, building them, and even driving them—but I've never considered myself a fan of racing. Loud cars driving fast while making left hand turns was never my thing, unless the cars crashed, flipped, tires went flying, or fires had to be put out. Only then did I find racing kinda cool. But for my family, racing was a way of life and, whether I liked it or not, I had to be around it enough to where I knew Jeff Gordon drove a rainbow car, Tony Stewart was a hot-headed jerk, and Dale Earnhardt Sr. was the best.

I was only nine years old when Earnhardt Sr. crashed into a wall during the final lap of the 2001 Daytona 500, and although I most likely would not have been active on Twitter if it had existed then, I can only imagine what it would have been like, from the excitement of the final lap, to the initial reaction following what looked like a routine crash, to debating about if he could come back and win it next season, to rumors developing over his condition, to trying to confirm his death, to mourning and remembering. It wasn't happening on Twitter then, but it was happening on different TV channels and over the phone as my relatives called each other to ask if they saw or heard what had happened. I remember being really sad because everyone around me was sad—but not "#RIP to the legend" sad, more like crying and in shock sad.

If Twitter had existed in 2001, it would be more than just the racing and NASCAR community sharing their condolences. Everyone would be commenting on the death of one of the greatest, even if they didn't know that he drove a No. 3 car or had a trademark mustache and wore sunglasses that were way too big for his face. Twitter would have been painted red, black, and white and his face or the iconic No. 3 would be used as profile pictures for years to come. But Twitter didn't exist, so instead we are left finding the occasional "In Memory" sticker plastered on the back of a pick-up truck next to a confederate flag decal. —Karisa Maxwell

Update: We are going to drop good suggestions in here as they come in, and honestly, we should all be fired for forgetting these first two:

What Sports Stories Would Have Broken Twitter If It Existed at the Time? published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[flauntpage]

What Sports Stories Would Have Broken Twitter If It Existed at the Time?

With O.J. Simpson in the news again for a random parole hearing, it's impossible not to think back to 1994-95 and the double murder of his wife Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, the infamous car chase, and the batshit trial that followed. The Simpson case transcended sports news to become a nationwide cultural phenomenon, and the jumping off point was Al Cowlings slowly driving that white Ford Bronco with police in pursuit. Can you imagine if Twitter and the total media saturation that the internet has unleashed upon us existed at that time? It would have been an absolute free-for-all.

With that in mind, we here at VICE Sports began wondering: What other news and events in sports history would have created an avalanche of tweets and memes and jokes and milkshake ducks had Twitter been around at the time? Or what would have just been an absolutely crazy, inescapable story that dominated the Twitter zeitgeist, where you knew you could get all the latest information about it as quickly as you possibly could?

We set out some criteria to narrow our options at least a little. First, obviously, Twitter must not have existed at the time of the event (so before 2006). The event also has to be within the past 30 years, and it has to be a specific moment, not, like, "the 2001 World Series." Here is what the staff of VICE Sports came up with, and the explanations behind our picks. Feel free to let us know which obvious ones we missed on Twitter.

Tonya Harding Taking Out Nancy Kerrigan

Tonya Harding's ex-husband and a friend hired a dude to break rival figure skater Nancy Kerrigan's leg so she wouldn't be able to compete in the 1994 Winter Olympics. That is to say, Nancy and Tonya had everything. It was bizarre, it was violent, it was totally unprecedented and yet to be replicated. It had the highest possible stakes and came as the culmination of the longstanding rivalry between two American athletes already in the public eye. Social class undercurrents? Yep, those, too. Not to mention the endless and endlessly cruel meme-ability of Nancy wailing "WHYYYYYY." And the existence of a man named Jeff Gillooly. And so many Tonya Harding-related things. It was brutality with a backstory, which is the perfect recipe for a sports scandal that could have liquified the internet. — Mike Piellucci

The Malice at the Palace

I was in high school when a fight between Ben Wallace and Ron Artest morphed into Ron Artest charging into the stands of Palace of Auburn Hills to fight fans. I had just gotten home from hanging out with friends but didn't feel like going to sleep, so I turned on ESPN. I wasn't much of a basketball guy; it was maybe the second or third game I had ever watched in my life, oddly enough. But I put it on in the background while I played OG Call of Duty on my desktop. During a break between games—or maybe as I waited for the lag to settle—I heard the announcers on TV screaming. I took off my headphones and turned to the TV to see Wallace and Artest going at it. I almost turned off the TV after their initial tussle settled. I'm glad I didn't.

If an NBA player charged into the stands now, I would immediately log onto Twitter, almost instinctually. I don't think it would have taken long for the Twitter magic to do its thing, meme-ing the "oh shit" face the little white dude made as Artest roared towards him, Austin Croshere caught momentarily on camera standing perfectly still as the entire arena erupted around him, Artest getting ushered off the court by his assistant coaches who have their hands draped over his head to protect him from the projectiles fans were hurling at him, the one kid standing over the Pacers tunnel who calmly upended a full bottle of soda on them. It was all Twitter gold, every last bit. Instead, I had to experience it all alone. It was worse for that. We all were. —Aaron Gordon

Brandi Chastain Wins 1999 World Cup

Look, for all its faults, international sporting event jingoism is also the fun kind of jingoism. Is it possible to Photoshop too many majestic bald eagles around Carli Fucking Lloyd? No, no it is not. And that's why I would have highly enjoyed Twitter had it been around for the 1999 World Cup final, and specifically the penalty shootout that gave the U.S. women the trophy. World Cup Twitter is already pretty good; add in the fact that everyone was watching this game, and that it took place at a reasonable hour of the day, and you have a classic in the making. Plus, high stakes, history, etc. Granted, during regulation you would have had a bunch of people moaning about soccer being the most boring sport in the world and ohmygod why hasn't anyone scored yet, but our patience would eventually have been rewarded. I still get goosebumps watching footage from the shootout today. I'm pretty sure Twitter would have been losing its collective mind by the time Brandi Chastain stepped up to take her kick. And afterward? Solid 24-karat meme gold, in all of Brandi's be-sports-bra'd glory. We would be printing out the best ones for weeks just to make sure they survived Y2K. —Caitlin Kelly

Pedro Martinez Curving Don Zimmer

At the height of the rivalry between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens met in Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS. Two hard-throwing hot heads (and Manny Ramirez) in a bitter rivalry gave birth to one of the most meme-able moments of all time. After Pedro plunked Yankee legend Karim Garcia in the fourth inning and generally taunted the Yankees in the proceeding outs, Manny Ramirez felt like a high fastball from Roger was intended as retaliation in the home half of the inning. So he charged the mound and the benches cleared.

The Yankees' tiny Popeye and general baseball legend Don Zimmer was none too pleased with Pedro, so he bullrushed him, and the Red Sox ace simply took him by his bald-ass head and spun the 72-year-old to the ground. I can't even begin to imagine what Twitter would have looked like during this, a playoff game, and also considerable downtime while the umpires tried to restore order. It would have been a neverending stream of when she just wants to be friends and tfw you get the insufficient funds notice and the impossible to recreate banter that happens in those kinds of moments. It would have been amazing.

(And I'm not too salty about it because Zim was OK, and Aaron Fucking Boone.) —Sean Newell

The Michael Jordan Shrug Game

For all its faults, sports Twitter is actually great when everyone can collectively enjoy the experience of an amazing individual sports performance. And few subsections of sports Twitter do this better than NBA Twitter. For example, NBA Twitter went crazy after Kevin Durant's eventual game-winning three-pointer against the Cavaliers in Game 3 of this year's NBA Finals.

But imagine what NBA Twitter would have been like at Michael Jordan's prime. Jordan crying at his NBA Hall of Fame induction ceremony became one of the biggest Twitter memes of all time. Jordan's actual on-the-court performance might have broken Twitter: the most famous athlete of all time, in his peak, on a worldwide social media platform.

Perhaps no Jordan moment might have captured Twitter's attention more than the famous shrug game. For those unfamiliar, Jordan and the Bulls entered the '92 Finals against the Portland Trailblazers trying to become the first repeat champions since the '87-88 Los Angeles Lakers. Jordan's Game 1 performance set a tone for the entire series. Jordan hit six three-pointers in the first half. After one of them, he turned toward the NBA announcer's table, where former Laker Magic Johnson was sitting, and just shrugged, as if in disbelief. It was one of the most iconic moments of an iconic career. Jordan scored 39 points in the game and the Bulls won the series in six games. —Jorge Arangure

Shaquille O'Neal Signs With the Los Angeles Lakers

The Orlando Magic blew it. Losing Shaq to the Lakers in 1996 was arguably the biggest sports front office fuck-up of the last thirty years, a free agency failure that absolutely, positively did not have to happen. Only it did, and the sheer improbability, slow-motion implosion, and ha-ha rubbernecking of it all would have been perfect for Twitter.

Let's go back in time. O'Neal was the NBA's new big thing, one of the most dominant forces in league history, a player who in his first four seasons made three All-NBA teams, was named MVP runner-up, and lead the Magic to the Finals. And Orlando had the inside track on re-signing him: not only did the franchise look like a budding dynasty thanks to the presence of Penny Hardaway, but it also was the only NBA team that could exceed the league's salary cap to pay O'Neal whatever he wanted—there were no max salaries at the time, and no luxury tax for exceeding the cap.

Yet rather than produce a blank check, the Magic low-balled O'Neal, promising him less money than Alonzo Mourning and Juwan Freaking Howard were making. Meanwhile, Jerry West and the Lakers cleared cap space to make an offer of their own, in part by trading Vlade Divac for the rights to a rookie named Kobe Bryant. Rather than aggressively counter, Orlando continued to nickle-and-dime O'Neal—eventually alienating him so badly that bolted for Los Angeles, ruining the Magic and revitalizing the Lakers.

On Twitter, this would have been Peak NBA Free Agency—as big as The Decision, crazier than the DeAndre Jordan Affair, fodder for snark and analysis and 1,000 little deaths by Wojbomb. There would have been twists and turns, rumors and leaks, and at least one contrarian Tweetstorm arguing that #actually losing O'Neal was the smart play for the Magic. It's a pity we only had newspapers and SportsCenter. —Patrick Hruby

Bill Buckner

Twitter is not for good things. Twitter is for amplifying the worst of us: shameless self-promotion, baseless speculation, and unproductive meanness. That's why Bill Buckner's error in the 1986 World Series would have been the perfect Twitter moment. There's the play itself, torturous and slow. Then there is the fallout. Millions of online Boston fans yelling into the void until two days later, the Mets put them out of their misery, continuing a decades-long World Series drought. —Eric Nusbaum

Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes Burns Down Andre Rison's House

When Atlanta Falcons receiver Andre Rison returned to his suburban Atlanta home at five in the morning on the night of June 8, 1994, he was "very sober." This is what he told People Magazine, anyway, although that makes it just one of the perspectives worth considering in the story of how his girlfriend of 15 months, TLC's Lisa "Left Eye" Lopes, came to burn down the house they shared.

Rison told People that Lopes had been drinking, and that she began laying into him first with words and then "blows to the face" before he even got inside; he told People that, once inside, he slapped her back "not to hurt her," he said, "but to calm her." The reasons for all this were unclear at the time, but also clear enough—it had to do with Rison buying dozens of pairs of sneakers for himself and none for Lopes, or it was something else; it had to do with him coming home from a club at five in the morning, or it didn't; it involved at least one heroically inebriated counterparty, or two, or more.

Anyway, what followed the disputed dispute is the sort of act that defies ambiguity. Lopes set fire to Rison's new sneakers in an upstairs bathroom, and that fire wound up consuming Rison's 15,000-square-foot home and burning nearly everything he owned. While the house burned, Lopes used the pipe from a vacuum cleaner to smash the windows and windshields in Rison's cars. In the People story, datelined June 27, Rison was already talking about reconciliation. "I have cried a lot," he said. "But I can't say that I've shed one tear for the house. I can replace a house, but I can't replace the life I had, or a certain girl." The two were still a couple, albeit of the intermittent and consistently combative kind, when Lopes died in a car accident in Honduras, in 2002.

There is a lot here; none of it is uncomplicated and most of it is unsettling. The parts of it that would have appeared in blaring capital letters between ellipses in a TMZ headline had it happened ten years later are what they are, and they are dramatic—one of the most talented and popular musicians of the moment, a Pro Bowl receiver on the swaggiest and highest-profile seven-win teams in NFL history, an $800,000 home cratered by flames. The rest of it, the grottier parts that the ellipses conceal, is both more bleak and more familiar—a highly conspicuous rolling blackout of shitfaced public fights and domestic violence and dropped charges.

Relationships like this, the kind that are too big to be safe for anyone involved, have always been around, and always been a part of celebrity culture. This one, both the apotheotic arson and the innumerable smaller public conflagrations, would have been inescapable in our current media age, and three times as loud. Those concealing ellipses would be asked to do a tremendous amount of work. That part, at least, hasn't changed. —David Roth

When Dale Earnhardt Crashed at Daytona

I grew up in a family who loves race cars—watching them, building them, and even driving them—but I've never considered myself a fan of racing. Loud cars driving fast while making left hand turns was never my thing, unless the cars crashed, flipped, tires went flying, or fires had to be put out. Only then did I find racing kinda cool. But for my family, racing was a way of life and, whether I liked it or not, I had to be around it enough to where I knew Jeff Gordon drove a rainbow car, Tony Stewart was a hot-headed jerk, and Dale Earnhardt Sr. was the best.

I was only nine years old when Earnhardt Sr. crashed into a wall during the final lap of the 2001 Daytona 500, and although I most likely would not have been active on Twitter if it had existed then, I can only imagine what it would have been like, from the excitement of the final lap, to the initial reaction following what looked like a routine crash, to debating about if he could come back and win it next season, to rumors developing over his condition, to trying to confirm his death, to mourning and remembering. It wasn't happening on Twitter then, but it was happening on different TV channels and over the phone as my relatives called each other to ask if they saw or heard what had happened. I remember being really sad because everyone around me was sad—but not "#RIP to the legend" sad, more like crying and in shock sad.

If Twitter had existed in 2001, it would be more than just the racing and NASCAR community sharing their condolences. Everyone would be commenting on the death of one of the greatest, even if they didn't know that he drove a No. 3 car or had a trademark mustache and wore sunglasses that were way too big for his face. Twitter would have been painted red, black, and white and his face or the iconic No. 3 would be used as profile pictures for years to come. But Twitter didn't exist, so instead we are left finding the occasional "In Memory" sticker plastered on the back of a pick-up truck next to a confederate flag decal. —Karisa Maxwell

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