#I still gotta go and beat him but thanks for giving me the trophy early I guess

[mischiefmaverick]

Um, thanks for the Founder trophy game, but I’m pretty sure that enemy wasn’t Trema…..

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Friendly Encounters- Chapter Three

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A friend challenges you to go out of your comfort zone and talk to one of the cute boys at the café. However, after attempting to flirt with one of them, they reveal that they are in a relationship with each other. It’s fine, though, because you’re all friends now!

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Romance

𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: Fluff

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Mentions of sex, language, mature themes, mostly safe but not suitable for young audiences below the age of 16, and binge eating if you are easily triggered by that.

𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 5.8k+

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jimin x Yoongi x Reader

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“My boyfriend actually called me his wife today.” “Oh yeah, well mine already proposed to me, that’s right, five years since we've started dating!”

“Oh, Lyric, you’re lucky. My boyfriend only ever invited me to his family’s tree trimming party and we got blessings from all of his great-aunts, uncles, and other relatives. His parents even call me their future daughter.” You roll your eyes at how unrelenting these girls are. They won’t even stop talking about boys for one second and you’ve been at this sleepover for five hours. It’s supposed to be the last sleepover of the decade as seniors, for everyone since you and this tiny group started planning in the seventh grade. Just because you’re all girls doesn’t mean boys are the only thing you have to talk about! It’s not an obligation. This isn’t a disney movie where the prince is going to marry the princess at the end, it’s real life and everyone is too fucking clingy to realize it. 

“Can we not talk about boys tonight?” You finally ask out loud, earning a gasp from everyone in the vicinity, including Bae, who happens to be a lesbian. Even she was enjoying the boy talk. 

“Why? That’s literally what sleepovers are about.” Your other friend, Joy points out. You sigh in frustration, falling back on the carpeted floor while hugging your soft ladybug plushie.

“Looks like someone’s having a bit of drama, we heard from Jessica. Now, tell mama River what’s really going on.” You take in a deep breath before slowly explaining your situation with the boys.

“And these boys are a gay couple?” Bae asks in a questioning tone.

“They are! But...after a certain encounter, I’m not really sure what to think. They’re older, and in love with each other, but I feel like I’m just intruding at times, you know?” Another girl that goes by the name of “Temoshika-san,” which is her japanese name nods in agreement, holding out a tray of foods for you to snack on.

“Eat. I binge whenever I’m stressed.” She says after you take a tiny bag of doritos. 

“Hon..I’m gonna say something but I don’t think you’re going to like it.” Your most sensible friend, Toriel (oh yes I named her after an undertale character) says after a long moment of silence. 

“Shoot. I’ve already made plans with them for next week to see a concert so there’s nothing that can surprise me now.” You bite your lips. It’s been an entire month since that day when Yoongi demanded you to lick ice cream off his boyfriend’s cheek and things escalated from there. 

You didn’t have sex, but it was a close call. Your heart almost ran away from you. Yet, they don’t bring it up, so it’s safe to assume that they felt nothing from that encounter. 

Maybe Jimin didn’t anyways. Or maybe he was feeling just as horny as you! Who knows? No guy has ever looked at you that way before, so you wouldn’t even know.

“I think that both of these boys might be catching feelings for you. But they’ve probably never had feelings for a girl before, so they don’t know how to go about it.” Her theory makes sense. Suddenly, all of the pieces click in your mind.

“You’re a genius, Toriel!” You give her a hug before whipping out your phone to text Jimin. Right on cue, you get a text! But you’re surprised to see that it's not from Jimin.

“Damn, that's some cold shit right there. I didn’t know what you did to piss him off so much.” Bae chuckles at your misery as you put your phone away.

“Wanna spill the details?” A girl by the name of Cleo asks. You roll your eyes.

“It was just Yoongi. He said he and Jimin wanted to talk to me. As if things haven’t been awkward enough.” You feel like you’re walking on eggshells with the two, as you’ve stopped hugging Jimin for longer than 10 seconds. 

And you’ve stopped your musical obsessions with Yoongi as well, keeping the fangirling to a bare minimum. You just want everything to go back to normal, so you can continue onto your adult life without holding on so much to the past. And they aren’t the only things bothering you, but Jungkook has been desperately trying to fix your relationship.

Jasmine won’t so much as breathe in your direction, as she doesn’t need you anymore. She has everything. The popular clique, a hot boyfriend, and perfect grades. She isn’t bothering you at all, but you are tempted to scream in her face about keeping her boy toy in control. He keeps wandering out of her lane and onto yours. Which you think you can use to your advantage.

It’s not like you’re going to sleep with him or anything, you just think it’s the perfect opportunity to take back what was rightfully yours. And in this case, Jungkook is the perfect trophy. You don’t like objectifying people, but at this point you don’t even care if he used your name to impress a couple of underclassmen, you feel honored, actually, but you don’t actually care about him. He kissed you too, while he was dating her. That’s a sign that things aren’t looking too good for them. 

Who are you kidding?! You should let them go. As if you have the balls to actually sneak around Jasmine’s back and snatch her boyfriend from her.

“Girl, just talk to them. I advise you to tell them as soon as possible what type of feelings you may or may not have for them. It’s gonna be okay.” Toriel pats your back as you recover from the growing anxiousness in your gut. Something tells you, everything is not going to be okay.

“Moving onto our next sleepover activity….horror stories!” 

                         ༻• The Next Day, At Your House •༺

You sneak into your home early in the morning, around 7 or 8, to be exact, hoping that Jimin and Yoongi were away at work. Your mom is already gone, as she texted you that she would be going on a business trip this particular week. The slumber party kept you awake all night, and the girls had really scary stories to share so you weren’t exactly calm...even now you are on edge as Jimin frightens you from behind.

“Hi.” You jump back, startled because of how quiet and swiftly he came up from behind you.

“H-hey. I thought I was home alone.” He gives you a sweet smile, the same comforting grin you saw that day in the cafe after you almost embarrassed yourself while asking for his number. Those were the good times, when you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. A friendship with anyone of the opposite sex is complicated, after all. You convinced yourself of this since Yoongi and Jimin are 100% gay and show no signs of any lust or extra thirst after you but you still had awkward tension. Hell, even now after Jimin walked up from behind you like that, you still have a strange feeling in your gut.

“You thought wrong! Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about

 how you almost peed your pants after I gave you a scare.” The mood is mellow, and you’re both comfortable around each other. Maybe Yoongi was the problem. But you don’t want to upset Jimin, as he’s your best friend at the moment and he’s been for you a lot more than anyone has been in the last decade.

“So, what’d I miss?” You ask, leaning in to give your best friend a hug. You inhale his strawberry-fresh scent, a little bit in awe as you’ve never gotten a waft of a nice-smelling boy. Jimin is an angel, a perfect exception. You hope you can find a man who’s as caring and attentive as he is, in the future.

“Yoongi and I have been thinking a lot about you recently, mainly how you opened up to the two of us about your life and leaned on us so easily, really it was crazy how you trusted us so easily when you barely knew either one of us,” You laugh sheepishly, mentally scolding yourself for being so childish in the first place. “But it was so admirable. And we thought, we could do the same for you. So you can learn more about the kind of people we are. We don’t like looking back on the past, but there are some parts that we just can’t leave behind. Like for example, our two exes,” At first, you think little of this. ‘He must mean the people that he and Yoongi dated before they found each other.’ That was your first thought. Just like he’s reading your mind, he answers your question, “We’re open to polyamory.” Your mouth drops to an “o” shape, and then you rack your brain for the correct answers.

You got nothing. You have no clue what the fuck a polyamory is.

“What’s that?” He chuckles at your innocence just as his boyfriend comes down the stairs.

“Hey, Yoongz, wanna explain what polyamory is to our good friend here?” You look up at the older man with curious eyes. You want to know.

“Multiple people in a relationship. Basically, Jimin and I used to invite over two other guys and we used to go on dates and do other stuff but it was really chill, nothing too serious.” You gawk as the two lean into each other for a kiss and then Jimin crawls into Yoongi’s lap before turning his head to stare at you. Two pairs of eyes are just on you, and you feel so vulnerable with all the attention on you.

“Anyways, I wanted to mainly apologize for what happened that night with the ice cream. You looked like you were enjoying yourself, and I thought I was too, until I realized I was gay. I just needed a reminder, I guess. So I thank you,” You don’t know whether you should laugh or cry, Yoongi’s expression was hard to read.

“Hyung...why do you gotta do her like that?” Jimin’s words throw you off guard. “You know what, instead of beating around the bush, I’ll just tell you: I’m bi, Yoongi was pan when I met him.” He rolls his eyes at the boy.

“Wait, didn’t you say you came out to your parents?” You ask curiously.

“I did. As gay, but then I ended up having a one night stand with a woman and after that I realized I liked both.” You take in the information very well, not letting it affect you one bit. “You know what, I’ll let you two figure out your shit…” You give Jimin a panicked look before turning to Yoongi with a fake smile plastered on your face.

“I don’t care what your sexuality is,” Your statement throws him off guard as his eyes widen quickly. “I just know what I felt was real. There was a weird connection, a moment where I wanted to kiss you.” He coughs before spreading his legs on the couch and putting his hands in his lap. You’re not gonna lie, he looks hot.

“Then why didn’t you?” You let out a small giggle before realizing that he’s completely serious.

“Because you and Jimin are dating...and I don’t like cheating.” He crosses his arms, this time scooting in closer to you. 

“But we were both there, and the vibes were all right.” You feel a slight pressure on your inner thigh when you realize that Yoongi is touching you. His hands are wandering up your thigh in broad daylight. You luckily have a blanket covering you, but the look of fear on your face is a dead giveaway.

“It’s because you wimped out.”

“You should’ve just done it anyways. I probably would’ve kissed you back.” He starts kneading your thigh, giving you an almost-massage, and just as you’re about to let out a moan, Jimin comes back, holding a bowl of popcorn and setting it down on the coffee table.

“Surprise movie night...er day.” He sits next to you, oblivious to what his boyfriend is doing. You glare at Yoongi when you feel his fingers pulling your leggings down and they wander into your panties. You’re damp. Completely soaked because of this stupid man that you’re attracted to and the fact that you basically just confessed to him. He smirks when he sees your eyes roll back in your head when he reaches your g-spot, thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. You cling to him, pretending that you’re simply cuddling him as Jimin’s eyes stay trained on the screen, but you fail horribly at keeping things discreet when you moan into his ears. The movie blasts at a loud volume, so the speakers drain out your groans as Yoongi drives you to an orgasm.

“Come for me, babe. Don’t want Jiminie to see, is that right?” Yoongi knows the boy would probably just join in if he actually noticed. He still manages to upset you, as with all your might, you try not to scream from pleasure.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna come.” You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out the softest but sexiest moan he’s ever heard, as his fingers twist inside of you and you climax right then and there. He leans in and finally, you get a taste of his sweet lips. 

“Let’s continue this later?” He whispers to you, winking at Jimin as you sink into his arms, panting heavily and recovering from your intense orgasm. And yes, the boy knows what his boyfriend was doing under the blanket the entire time. 

After the movie, you quickly run upstairs to take a shower. You didn’t expect to get fingered on your couch. You didn’t think Yoongi would actually kiss you. And you certainly didn’t think things were going to return to normal ever again. They already had girls. How many did they date in the past? Obviously having a third partner didn’t work out for either of them so what difference would it make if you were part of the equation? You step out of the shower to find Jimin in your bedroom, playing games on his phone as he waits for you. You clench your towel, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you step into your bedroom, closing the door.

“Hey! I wanted to see what you might be wearing to the concert, have you picked out an outfit?” You walk past him, motioning him to come to your closet as your finger picks and chooses the cute dress you found at the mall.

“This one.” You can see his eyes lighting up at the thought of you wearing that dress, but then his gaze darkens when he imagines you out of it. Speaking of...there was only a thin towel wrapped around your body, even then it wasn’t enough to stop his imagination. You have nice boobs, can you blame the poor guy?!

“Nice choice. I’ll just uh...step out so you can get dressed.” Also known as code red: he has a boner. You quickly throw on some shorts and a sweatshirt, as you don’t dress modestly at home. You check yourself in the mirror, making sure it’s not too much in case the boys feel uneasy. 

Today’s a slow day. You finish up your homework before making your way to the kitchen for an evening snack. It’s only 5:00, yet you’re starving. What you see next surprises you, as Yoongi is on the counter while Jimin kisses him breathlessly. How do people kiss so long without breaking for air? As you observe, Jimin breaks the kiss, smiling at you as his boyfriend turns to look at you as well.

“Come here, darling.” Your feet are jello as you stumble to the two, trying to ignore the way Yoongi’s bulge is sticking straight up as Jimin’s hands are on either side of him.

“Wh-what?” You blush, unable to help yourself as the blue haired god in front of you looks so good. “I like your hair.” You whisper quietly.

“Thanks, although I’ve had this hairstyle for a while,” He removes his arms from his boyfriend, putting his attention on you. “Now, you’ve been a dirty girl, fooling around with my boyfriend when I’m not looking, is that right?” You swear if you weren’t holding onto the counter you would’ve fainted.

“What? Cat got your tongue? You have quite a mouth on you when my fingers are buried in your pussy but you can’t say a word when my boyfriend asks you a perfectly valid question?” You’re shocked, frozen, freezing. 

“Answer me, sweetie. Did you like it when he fingered you earlier?” You blush and nod, evading his gaze. “Look at me when I talk to you, Y/N.” When he says your name you look up, your eyes meeting his as you do. Five seconds barely pass when he smashes his lips against yours, in a desperate manner. Yoongi’s just watching, patiently waiting for you to break the kiss so he can continue the conversation.

“Y/N, we need to be honest with you. We’ve...taken a liking to you.” You don’t know how to process this information. But Jimin’s look of pleading is enough. They both want you.

“So please, will you consider joining our relationship?” You purse your lips. Every fibre of your body is screaming yes, but your mind is telling you to be reasonable, and think through this. You don’t need this right now in your life. You’ll hold them back, they’ll hurt you later, this is setting yourself up for failure.

Yet you want it so bad.

“Can I think about it? Please?” You don’t want to reject them right away.

“Of course. Take your time.” Jimin takes Yoongi’s hand before leading him to the couch. You hope they won’t ask you before the concert.

                                        ༻• At the Concert •༺

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The men brought you to a freaking J-hope concert. Not just anyone but the J-hope. He’s the most popular solo act on the planet. After he broke up with his boy band BTB, he went all crazy and started rapping about sex, and fame, and real life issues. Everyone loves him.

Including your two friends who dated him back before he was famous.

Yeah, they have a history together.

“You like it so far?” Jimin asks, leaning in while cracking open a can of pepsi.

“Are you kidding? You got premium seats to see the J-hope?” He gives you a cheeky grin before turning to Yoongi and conversing with him. You can’t seem to take your eyes off the two of them, even if you are at a J-hope concert. You feel lucky enough to be breathing the same air as him, but it’s thanks to the couple sitting beside you. Not to mention...they even dated him at some point.

“This last song goes out to two dear exes of mine…” You thought you imagined it, but he seemed to look up at your row, as if he was staring straight at Yoonmin.

“Last summer when you told me you weren’t feeling well, I thought it was just a little bump in the road, But now I know, It was all because of her, Ohhh my love, How I loved you way back then, But I was too blind to see, You really didn’t care at all,”

You don’t know how to react. Should you clap? Or laugh, or cry? It sounds like whoever he’s singing about cheated on him...with a girl.

“Now I don't care, it's all choices by my fate,  so we're here, Look ahead,  The way is shinin’, Keep Going Now,”

The song suddenly gets more upbeat and then the crowd goes crazy as he has an outfit change with a snap. Also, this man is glowing. The lights are perfectly bouncing off his slightly tanned skin, making him appear more heavenly. God, how did they live through this?

“That’s My Ego!” He sings the chorus cheerfully before finishing off and then fireworks light up the night sky, making some audience members cry. Jimin and Yoongi are both staring at you, though, as you watch with wonder. You look so innocent, and you’re so small...the two of them are already whipped for you, can’t you see that? Oh wait, you do.

“Is there something on my face?” You ask them, and they simply smile at you. As if that wasn’t heart-melting enough.

“Nothing. Let’s go backstage.” You blush as they both take either of your hands, leading you out of the crowded stadium so that you can visit J-Hope backstage. You were about to meet a celebrity, while being held by two guys that confessed their feelings to you just a few hours ago! As if things couldn’t get any better.

“J-HOOOOOPE!!!” Yoongi grins, throwing his arms around the celebrity as he walks into the room.

“Hey Suga. OH JEMIN!” Jimin and J-Hope share a handshake before hugging as well, and then he turns to you.

“Who is this beauty?” He turns to look at you, kissing your palm softly in greeting.

“Y/N.” You answer him, trying to conceal your uwus.

“Wow. You’re even more perfect than how they described you. You know, I’ve never seen them like someone more than they like you.” He whispers into your ears. You’re a little bit distracted by the fact that an IDOL is whispering in your ears right now. His breath smells so good. His sweat smells expensive, though.

“Y-you really think?” You ask.

“I know so.”

“Okay, if you’re done hitting on our friend, how about you tell us what you’ve been up to?” J-Hope holds up a finger, revealing the engagement ring to all of you.

“Who…?” J-Hope blushes before turning to his mirror.

“Remember that one producer? The girl who was older than me by 10 years or something?” Everyone nods, except you, who has no idea what’s going on.

“Turns out she was my soulmate all along. She proposed to me, and we’re getting married next month.” 

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” You clap for him as the two men beside you look at you with love in their eyes.

“I’m so excited. She’s just a bucket of sunshine. Oh shoot, I’m almost late for the wine tasting. Bye guys.” We wave as the celebrity packs up his things for the day. “So, it looks like you guys lowered your standards for me.” “Oh, stop, he wasn’t even well-known when we met. And now, we’ve all moved on. The three of us are together and that’s what matters.” Yoongi cuts you off before you even start. When you get home, you’re less than amused that your mother is getting ready for the stupid marriage meeting in her room. She ushers you to change, greeting the boys but whisking you away from them just as quickly. You wave goodbye to them, in a dreary mood. “Remember to behave, poise and manners, Y/N. You want to look like a good wife.” “I don’t want to get married. I’m only 18, ma.” She brushes your hair, looking at you with teary eyes. “Your dad wants you to. And he gets what he wants. No matter what.” You sob the entire car ride, your father didn’t even bother coming home as the purpose of this stupid meeting was to make himself look good. You look up to see that the boy before you is an overgrown specimen of child. Not even a man, but just a buff baby. “Hi, how old are you?” You ask politely. The boy lowers his eyes. You already know where this is going even though you’ve barely said a few words. “15, you have nice tits.” You’re in shock, uncomfortable, lonely, and worst of all, your mom won’t even look at you. Your dad presents you like a trophy and then forces you to tell the other parents about your academic achievements before forcing you to sit down. You want to cry. But you don’t. Instead, you call Jimin. “Hey, what’s up? Is the dinner going well?” Your voice starts breaking before you even talk, making you suck in deep breaths before looking out the bathroom window. “No, Jimin. I can’t stay here. They’re gonna force me to marry a 15 year old that just said my boobs look nice. I have to get away, do you guys think you can get me away from my parents? I’m 18, so they can’t legally do anything about it.” You hear him talking to someone in the background, presumably Yoongi.

“It’s me, Jimin just told me...I’m so sorry. All of that is awful, but is running away really going to solve anything? I know things seem bad now, but wait until your mom knows about us, I’m sure she’ll be accepting.” Yoongi sounds confident in himself, so you don’t feel like putting him down.

“Her, maybe. But not my dad. He’ll disown me.”

“Y/N, you are no object. They can’t just marry you off to anyone. And if they do, we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen. You should be allowed the choice of marrying someone you love.” You frown, seeing the tears falling out of your eyes.

“I’ll go out with you.”

                                       ═══ 🅣🅘🅜🅔🅢🅚🅘🅟 ═══

Your first date is at the cafe where it all started. The boys make sure to take time off at the same time so your schedules match up. It’s not the most conventional date, as the three of you start discussing where you’ll move in together after you run away from home.

Your dad hasn’t even spoken more than a couple sentences to you. Wow, so caring. You have no reason to stay with them anymore, as he literally forces you to go to stupid dinner parties and sets you up with boys that are too young for you. Even a 12 year old, like what the fuck?

“How was dinner last night?” Jimin asks. You roll your eyes.

“Horrible, as always. These boys are nightmares. I feel bad for their future partners.” You comment.

“Who cares? It’s just dinner. And you’re dating us now. Talk to us, babe.” You like being called “babe.” Especially when Yoongi says it, because he’s just so closed off to everyone else.

“Do you like it when he calls you baby? Because I’m pretty sure he likes it too.” Jimin giggles. Being with your best friend is really no different, except now you can kiss and hug and show affection romantically. He’s just a lot more cuddly with you. And Yoongi doesn’t mind it one bit.

He actually sometimes joins in, hugging you and Jimin lovingly. He’s so protective of you two. You love it.

And they’ve started picking you up after school, to take you out so you can be away from your house for a bit. But at the end of the day, you can always count on crawling into bed with them and dreaming your troubles away. You’ve been sleeping better with them cuddling right next to you. 

Sneaking into bed with them has become a habit of yours, and you especially don’t make it clear around your dad that you have feelings for them. Although, lately everything has been striking a nerve. He often calls you to awkward dinner parties and you can’t do anything about it.

Even your boyfriends agree that it’s a bit too much. So much, that one day, Jimin decides to suggest something crazy.

“Let’s make your dad think that you’re ruined.” This catches yours and Yoongi’s attention.

“What? What the hell are you going on about, Jimin?” Uh-oh, when Yoongi uses that tone and says his name like that, you know someone’s in trouble.

“I’m saying that we make her dad think she lost her virginity.” You cross your arms, gasping as Yoongi shields your face with his arms protectively.

“What are you saying? That’s absurd. Her father is already strict as is with us living here, everytime he sees us he crinkles his nose even more. We repulse him, Jimin. What makes you think that we aren’t gonna tick him off even more?” Yoongi makes a good point. Your father was very strict, and homophobic. Perfect traditional 1800s father of the year.

“He’s here because he wants to see his little girl get engaged, right? Well, what if she brought the engagement to him? Have him walk in on one of us sharing a moment with her and then having her dad say she has to marry us?!” You’re baffled. You didn’t think your boyfriend was that dense. 

“Idiot, he would probably disown her. And also, no. Maybe not marriage, he might just throw her out of the house altogether.” While you’re busy planning, what you fail to recognize is that your father leaves town again. He’s flying away, and you had no knowledge of it until your mother called you and you saw his packed suitcases as he hugged you goodbye. Looks like the meetings have come to an end.

“Jimin!!! Yoongi!!!! Come downstairs, I need to talk to you two about something.” My mother calls out to them.

“What?” Yoongi is the first to make his way down the stairs, avoiding eye contact with you.

“I’ve noticed the way you two have been interacting with my daughter as of late. The deep stares of longing everytime we sit on the couch and watch t.v together, the smiles of adoration that you only have reserved for special people, heck, even once I saw you holding her hands like she would disappear if you let go,” You can hear the nervous gulps come from the two men as they stare directly at your mom. This can’t be good. “You both have crushes on her, right?” Their eyes widen.

“What? No, I’m dating Yoongi-Boongi. My heart belongs to him and only him.” Jimin says a bit too quickly, making your mom raise her eyebrow in question.

“Your daughter is very pretty, I’ll give you that much, but I’m dating Jimin.” She clicks her tongue, not fully believing them.

“I know what it looks like when boys have a crush on a girl, seeing the way you act around her. So how about you tell me the truth straight to my face?” Jimin is the first to break under her intense stare.

“Fine, you caught me. I like her, okay?!” He says, blushing a brilliant shade of pink. When your mother sees that Yoongi’s expression is indifferent, she narrows her eyes at him.

“You know, don’t you?” He doesn’t say a word, instead taking your arm and pulling you beside him.

“Ma’am, I would like to get your permission to be your daughter’s boyfriend….along with Jiminie.” Considering you were secretly dating for weeks, now seems like the perfect time to ask. Go Yoongi!

“Yes, of course you can date her. You both are so caring and kind and I can’t imagine anyone more fit for the job….even though I didn’t expect two guys. It may be a little strange but I trust that you know your boundaries.” They nod, each of them hugging you tightly and giggling like children.

“We’ll make sure to treat our girlfriend with kindness and respect.” With Yoongi’s gummy smile, your heart melts. You really, really like him.

“You better, or else you’ve got another thing coming.” Your mother’s gaze is threatening enough, as the two men stiffen their backs and stand up straight.

“Loosen up, she’s just kidding. Right, ma?” She nods, laughing happily as she sees her ships coming to life before her eyes. She’s always wanted her daughter to be happy, instead of subjecting her to a life of unhappy arranged marriage. She wants to give her everything she didn’t have as a child.

“Yup. But seriously, break her heart and you’re dead.”

“Moooom.”

That night your mom leaves for work. She didn’t tell you, but you really noticed when you called out for her and she didn’t answer back, only leaving a text on her phone that she would be late. You knew this meant you were home alone with your extremely attractive boyfriends again for the second time this month. 

You’re excited, but nervous. The last time the three of you were in the house like this, they made out in front of you and then made you extremely horny. Now, you could only imagine what would happen with the three of you in an actual relationship.

“Y/N, come watch netflix with us!” Jimin calls you to his room, and your eyes widen. You’ve been in their room before, but never totally alone. Your mom or dad would be in the house, but now you’re stuck with these two. 

“What are we watching?” You penguin-walk to Yoongi, who hoists you up onto the giant bed. Immediately you fall back from the weight of his knees forming a little disbalance on the mattress. It’s just a tiny ditch. 

“I thought you were gonna fall, be careful.” He lightly scolds you, before sitting back and getting cozy with Jimin as you stay in the middle, right between them.

“You guys are so warm.” You inhale their scents, taking in their musk and surprisingly sweet cologne. The strawberry scent must be coming from Jimin. The axe must be from Yoongi. Either way, you’re comfortable.

“No, you are.” Jimin pulls you in between his legs, peppering kisses all over your neck. Normally, you’d be turned on in the situation, but it’s completely innocent. You giggle as he tickles you with his faded blue hair and then you both get lost in each other’s eyes. You love his crescent shaped eyes, how he is a perfect mix of masculine and feminine, breaking all traditional roles of what it means to be a man in the modern world of 2020. If anything, his soft features are what makes him more “manly.” There’s no correct answer. He’s perfect the way he is, and you love the way his lips form a tiny pout, even when he’s happy.

“Just kiss already.” You both look over at Yoongi, who is more concerned with the movie playing on the screen than his two partners sharing a moment right next to him. You give Jimin a look as he leans in and finally closes the gap between you two.

[heartbreaker-johnny]

TATBILB-Chenle

(credit to gif maker, I tried to just get a gif off tumblr but like nothing was showing up like Chenle didn't exist?)

Chenle and I used to hate each other.

He was friends with Jisung since they were about ten. When he moved here from China, he had a very big superiority complex. His family was rich and they didn’t hide it, but they hadn’t exactly done a good job on teaching their son to be modest. He had been raised by nannys and done private schools and homeschooling before the move. His parents decided that after the move it would be best to send him to public school for a bit. He lacked a lot of social skills and manners so they figured public school might help with that.

Jisungs school wasn’t fancy or expensive but it was in a way exclusive. It was a school for the performing arts and most of the kids who attended also excelled academically. Chenle was no exception. He did a lot of singing n China and gained a lot of attention, not to mention he was very smart.

Jisung had a passion for dance, so our parents insisted that he attended the school. He did well in most classes but for some reason, math was the bane of his exsistance. After a few weeks of Chenle being at the school, their teacher had the idea of teaming Jisung and Chenle up. Chenle didn’t seem to be making friends well and Jisung, despite being the shy kid he was, always was very welcoming to new people. Chenle also excelled at math particularly, so the situation seemed like a win-win for both boys. The only person who seemed to lose, was me.

Every single time Jisung brought him home, he tested my patience. When he was younger, he just annoyed me. He would go off on little rants on how our family had such cheap things and his family could afford brand name. Our food wasn’t good enough and our clothes were off the rack. He just seemed to complain about everything. But Jisung always took the effort to give him a chance, despite his rough exterior. He would remind Chenle that not everyone was as fortunate as him and sometimes cheap food tastes the best and off the rack clothes were the most comfortable. He was by far the better sibling in the family.

When he was older, Chenle’s remarks were more geared towards me. He would comment on my looks, my clothes, the books I read or the shows I watched. It was a different topic to torture me about every day.

“No wonder you’re single Y/N, have you seen yourself in the mirror?”

“Wow, I read that book in the third grade. Was it too hard for you to comprehend before now?”

“I hardly see you with any friends. Are you sure Mark even likes you?”

I didn’t let him get away with his attitude problem. I went off on him every time a remark went too far and constantly told my parents that I didn’t want him allowed in the house anymore. I just couldn’t understand why Jisung put up with him. Why would anyone stay friends with someone like him for so long? He just repeatedly told me, I didn’t know the real Chenle and that one day, maybe he’d show me the real him. He wasn’t wrong.

One day, I was sent to pick up Jisung from school early. He would be missing his last class and the class he was currently in wasn’t quite over yet. I wondered the halls of the school, looking at the various posters and trophy cases that lined the walls. I suddenly heard something hit a wall and I could hear faint voices. I looked around where I was and determined that it was coming from the boys bathroom, across the hall from where I was standing. I moved closer and could tell there were multiple voices and another slam to the wall. I opened the door ever so slightly and listened in, trying to figure out if maybe someone was having some kind of medical problem and they were calling for help. That wasn’t what was happening.

“You think ‘cause your family is rich you’re hot shit huh? You think you can walk around here all high and mighty and not have to your fair share of classroom chores?”

“Did you really think we were going to let you get away with always weaseling out and leaving us to do all the work?”

“I told you, I’m allergic to the cleaning spray, I can’t be anywhere near it.”

I recognized the last voice immediately. It was Chenle.

“Like I’m gonna believe that! If you were allergic, why would the teacher keep using it?”

“I don’t know, ask her!” Chenle fired back.

“I think you just think you’re too good to pull your own weight. We around here, we don’t let people skate by like that. I think it’s about time you got what’s been coming to you.”

I had a feeling I knew what was coming next and as much as I hated Chenle, I wasn’t going to let him get his ass beat. If anyone was gonna do it, it was gonna be me.

I threw the door open and rushed inside the bathroom to find two boys towering over Chenle who was on the floor. They were scrawny kids, he totally could have taken them, but it was Chenle we were talking about.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I yelled at the boys.

“This is the boys room, get out!” One boy said.

“Yeah this doesn’t concern you!” Said the other.

“If it concerns Chenle it concerns me! Now unless you both wanna get your ass beat by a girl, I suggest you leave. And don’t even think I would beat your ass because Chenle here can most certainly confirm that I will.” I threatened the losers.

They glared at me, then Chenle once more before rushing out of the bathroom.

I crouched down to Chenle, who was still on the floor, his lip and cheek had cuts in them.

“Did they hit you?” I asked, reaching out to touch his cheek.

“What do you care?” He asked swatting my hand away and getting up.

“In case you didn’t notice, I just saved your ass. You really wanna be a dick to me right now?” I said, shocked he was still being rude.

“I could have handled it myself.” I said, his confidence wavering.

“Yeah that cut in your lip and gash in your cheek really scream ‘badass fighter’.” I said rolled my eyes at him.

He didn’t say anything and just glared at the sink he stood in front of. I could tell he felt ashamed, this was not a side of himself he had ever intended on showing someone. Jisung’s words before suddenly sunk in.

“Have they done this to you before? Have they been bullying you?” I asked him.

“It’s the first time they’ve hit me. They hate me.” Chenle said quietly.

This wasn’t something new. This had been going on for a long time.

“Listen, you can’t let these assholes get away with doing this to you. They’re just jealous.” I said, wetting a paper towel. I turned his head to look at me and I began to wipe away the blood on his face. “You gotta stand up to them or they’re gonna keep doing it. And don’t just run your mouth like you usually do. If they hit you, hit them back. Report them to your teacher. Don’t walk by yourself for a while. They’re probably gonna try to use this against you. Just remind them, I’m always down to beat some ass.”

“Why are you helping me? You hate me.” He asked me.

“Yeah, because you give me good reason to.” I reminded him. “I just don’t tolerate bullying. I’ve been there and it sucks. Besides, even if you’re a dick, you’re Jisung’s friend. If he’s kept you around this long, you must be a good friend to him.”

I cleaned his face and fixed his hair for him before deciding my work as done and leaving.

It wasn’t until a few months later that I learned my words had stuck with him.

Yuta and I had broken up days before but my heart was still ripped wide open. It was the middle of the night, I was having a complete meltdown in the bathroom of my house. Chenle was staying the night, which he did every now and then. I was trying my best to stay quiet but I was still loud enough for him to hear me through the door.

I had forgotten to lock the door, so he knocked once, then opened it and stepped inside. He sat down next to me on the floor but did me a favor and didn’t look at me.

“If it makes you feel any better, he wasn’t good enough for you.” He said, leaning into the wall.

I looked over at him, confused by what he said and why he was there.

“I know he made you happy and he seemed to really love you, but you’re way out of his league.” He said.

I laughed, more like let out another sob, but I was a mess.

“I think it was more the other way around. Besides, it was a mutal agreement. We just weren’t good for each other anymore.” I said, truthfully.

“If it were mutal, you wouldn’t be on the bathroom floor crying because you aren’t with him.” He said. He was right and I hated it. “Sometimes the people we love the most aren’t meant to stay in our lives forever. Romantically, that is. Sometimes the people we need the most are people we didn’t realize we needed. You taught me that.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the boy. Jisung had been right. He did have another side to him that could be quite lovely.

“You’ll bounce back. You’ll find your perfect match. But until then, I’m gonna need you to get out of here because I’m about to burst.”

I laughed at him, them stood up and wiped my eyes.

“Thanks Chenle. Does this mean we’re friends now?” I asked, jokingly.

“Let’s just leave it at we’re friendly. You’re still an idiot but I don’t hate you.”

I nodded and left the room.

Sometimes the people we need the most are people we didn’t realize we needed. Chenle taught me that.

[smashingatsonicspeed]

FINAL BASE GAME DIRECT THOUGHTS

Well, we just had our last base game direct earlier this month for Super Smash Bros. Ultimate. It certainly was a doozy, and for most probably not nearly as hype as the August direct nor of course the Smash section at E3. But we still got some cool stuff. And I’m going to give my thoughts on much of what we got.

KEN MASTERS, RYU’S ECHO FIGHTER

Ken has practically been confirmed since September with the birth of the box theory. Regardless on what the fate was of many of the rumors/leaks it just looked like Ken was really the only true lock for the game. He looks neat, I won’t use him more then Ryu personally if I had to choose between the two to play as, But I get why he’s here, he’s pretty much the original echo fighter when it comes to fighting games. Sakurai even points this out later. Perfectly ok with Ken’s inclusion, but it is admittedly hard to get excited over someone you’ve practically known was already in the game since September. He does seem to at least to be the most different out of all the Echo fighters.

INCINEROAR, OUR FINAL BASE GAME UNIQUE CHARACTER

The other character nearly as expected as Ken though not quite as long. And not exactly as hinted since in terms of the unique fighter on the Box theory there’s no pattern hinting at who it could be. It could technically have been anyone. The character also got people to doubt it’s appearance after the “Grinch leak”, some people even saying Incineroar may have been Leaker bait sent by Nintendo. But nope, Incineroar was the real deal. And he looks fun! A pro wrestler type character I feel will endear him to fans who aren’t as into Pokemon anymore but can enjoy his personality in Smash. It’s also awesome to finally have a feline character in Smash.

BOX THEORY WAS CORRECT, GRINCH LEAK FOOLED A LOT OF PEOPLE

With Ken and Incineroar in we do need to mention how that it is confirmed in fact that Box theory was correct. The pattern was suspiciously there for Ken, and the Gen 7 Pokemon had not been known yet and while the Grinch leak may have put some doubt. It’s hard to see why the Pokemon Company would miss the chance to add a character. But yes, let’s just say everyone who had their hopes high after believing the Grinch leak just got their hopes crushed when the stuff being speculated about the box theory from September to early October came true. Heck, even though I was one who lowered expectations because of the Box theory, I admit at the very least the Grinch Leak fooled me in believing that some of the characters would become playable. I never believed the leak fully since my brain felt it was illogical for 7 characters to be announced with nearly only a month to go. But stuff like insider talk and that mysterious plant item shown at Wendy’s Tailgate had me thinking that at least say… Isaac made it or something. Props on a well done fake by the leaker, it’s not easy to make a leak that would cause the debates of the century in Smash discussions happen. Of course I do got to stop short of thanking the leaker because if it weren’t for the Grinch leak there were actually people who were bringing their expectations low and might of not taken this direct as bad as a result. There would of still been a meltdown sure, but the meltdown would of simmered over weeks of box discussion. it was only made worse with the Grinch leak.

SPIRITS

Spirits is kind of interesting. It’s kind of another sort of event mode kind of thing with images of characters that you’re able to level up like in gacha games (Just without needing to pay money like the ones on Mobile phones)

ONLINE MODE

I often only use online to play with friends. But some of the changes to Online are neat. Preferred rules letting you more likely find someone who likes the same sort of competition you do. But might not exactly be perfect. Feels like the friend lobbies will be most preferable for many.

ASSIST TROPHIES

And here comes the final painful deconfirmations. Even the first one came to a shock to many since it happened to be Shadow the Hedgehog. Who of course was seen ever since Richter’s inclusion as a lock as a new echo fighter. And then there was Isaac, who looked like he was doing so well in the Ballot back in the polling days since he was missing completely from Smash 4. But he’s back… once again as an Assist Trophy. Spring Man who was thought to be certain for DLC is just an assist as well. (Rex might have been deconfirmed as well with that Mii costume during the DLC section)

But it wasn’t all sad deconfirmations. There was also fun new additions that probably are just happy to be there. You have a Fatal Frame protagonist, the Black Knight from Fire Emblem (Can’t wait to get screenshots of him and Sonic just for the Sonic and the Black Knight jokes), a Thwomp, Dr. Wily, Guile, and Akira. All awesome additions to the assist trophy line-up.

DLC CONFIRMED

As expected, DLC will be happening. The question is if this Fighter pass will be the only season of it or not. Also interesting to note that each fighter+stage pack is the same price as Ryu, Cloud, and Bayonetta. Possibly meaning that all DLC characters in the pass will be 3rd parties. Might not be the case completely but until we get a Nintendo owned character from the pass itself I’ll speculate that.

Though uh… I gotta talk about the one Nintendo character they’re offering as a free bonus until the end of January…

PIRANHA PLANT IS THE FIRST DLC CHARACTER

This was basically the point the Smash Speculator has either been broken or completely left my brain. Because under no circumstances of any speculation question about characters getting into Smash does the Plant meet any standards. For the first time ever, this truly is a joke/WTF character given to us by Sakurai. Even the earlier characters that were seen as joke or WTF characters had reasons to say they deserved to be there. But this plant isn’t even the most iconic enemy. It’s very much like Sakurai chose a character that goes against all preconceptions of Smash inclusion. I can’t even be mad, I’m too broken to be mad. I was just confused and laughing when it happened. I just hope the rest of the DLC doesn’t fall-in-line with this. That this is just the one troll move Sakurai pulls on us and doesn’t try again.

One things for sure though, I will never complain about Dark Pit again after this.

WORLD OF LIGHT

And while it’s certainly not quite as robust as we’ve been told it’s mainly an overworld and more fights. But we have our closest thing to Subspace in a long while. That intro cutscene we got might very well end up being the only real cutscene (Though I wouldn’t put it past there at least being a final cutscene at the end after beating the final boss) but was still great to see. And man it was like they Thanos snapped nearly the entire Smash roster except for Kirby. Perhaps my favorite part is Sonic slowed down to try to save Pikachu before both were blasted. My current main since Brawl, and my former #1 Main in 64 and Melee are a canon Smash friendship! ^^

But anyway, yeah it looks plenty interesting. I wonder if this will be the “streamlined” way of unlocking characters that Sakurai mentioned? Which speaking of which I was kind of surprised that wasn’t really mentioned in terms of unlocking characters which is weird since you’d think that is important in a game where you start with only the original 8 and work your way to unlock the rest. There are still kind of some unanswered questions despite this being the final direct. But I guess that will have to be saved for news publishers to talk about as we get closer to release and the NDAs start disappearing. And then of course the launch of the game itself

FINAL THOUGHTS

Overall, while again the character reveals weren’t as hype as before. I am still very much excited for the game and in fact already have the game pre-loaded ready for me to play on the very first second once midnight strikes on December 7th. We still have 6 more characters to look forward to play as or at least find out about next year as well. So character speculation isn’t quite over yet. But it will be pretty tight with only 5 spots barring a 2nd season being announced at some point. But right now, the game itself is important. And it’s nearly just a month away! Can’t wait ^^

[junker-town]

A booze company deemed Michael Jordan MVP before the NBA ever did

Michael Jordan poses with the tastiest trophy he’d ever win | AP

Seagram’s computer algorithm suggested Jordan had the NBA’s most impressive stats as far back as his rookie season.

Sometimes when you’re looking for other stuff, you stumble across an old article in which Michael Jordan is quoted giving thanks to a computer ...

Forth Worth Star-Telegram (May 28, 1987)

... and then you gotta go figure out what the deal was there. So this is that.

I’m fascinated by the first chapter of Michael Jordan’s career. Before Jordan enjoyed the company of any star-level teammates, before his Chicago Bulls came even close to a championship, MJ’s statistical profile described a superstar performing basically alone. Jordan’s third season, 1986-87, represents the peak of this era. The year he turned 24, Jordan recorded the fifth-highest single-season usage rate in Basketball-Reference’s database, which goes back to 1978. And Jordan didn’t crank up his usage by hunting triple-doubles; Michael shot. His 3,041 points on 2,279 field goal attempts in ‘86-’87 are the single-season records for any NBA player not named Wilt Chamberlain, and that data goes all the way back to the beginning. No other Bull that season came close to even half of that production. Jordan scored more points than any three of his ‘86-’87 teammates combined. This is, perhaps, not the most sustainable path to success, as evidenced by those Bulls winning just 40 games.

Still, Jordan warranted some sort of recognition for dragging a team to the playoffs by himself. Some people thought he deserved to be named the NBA’s 1987 Most Valuable Player. Just not enough of them. When media members voted on that award, Jordan received ten first-place votes, and a pretty substantial share of the overall vote total ... but a distant second-place to Magic Johnson. Magic won his first regular-season MVP by leading the LA Lakers in scoring, but mostly by distributing a historically notable number of assists to a supporting cast vastly more talented than the one surrounding Jordan. Johnson enjoyed the company of two future Hall-of-Famers and 1987 Defensive Player of the Year Michael Cooper. Jordan’s best teammate was ... I dunno, Charles Oakley? Those Lakers would eventually win their fourth championship of the decade. The Bulls got swept in the first round.

Jordan didn’t dispute Magic’s MVP status, though he did wonder what more a player in his own position could do to demonstrate elite value. MJ raised the ever-present question of how much “most valuable” honors individual excellence vs. team success:

“I’m not saying they (the media) don’t know how to decide,” Jordan said, “but I don’t think anyone knows what credentials should be used. I wish I knew what they were. I guess it goes back to history. The MVP has always gone to the winning team.

Well! Michael! As it turned out, the Seagram company wondered the very same thing. Yes, the people who make ginger ale and wine coolers. Back then they weren’t just an imprint of Coca-Cola. They were a huge conglomerate with entirely too much money, and they spent some of it on advanced sports statistics — a beverage magnate competing with the nascent SABR.

In 1974, Seagram began issuing its “Seven Crowns of Sports Award” — a computer-generated measure of the best individual performance in each major sport. As statisticians kept more and more detailed records, Seagram endeavored to analyze, weigh, and collate all those discrete play-by-play stats into a single “efficiency” number that would help them determine the best overall individual athlete, even allowing them to compare athletes from different leagues, if not different sports.

The Indian Journal (December 4, 1975)

You got a trophy and $10,000. Not bad!

AP

Wayne Gretzky won a bunch of these bad boys.

Seagram’s first basketball award — and a $10,000 prize — went to Julius Erving, who played in the ABA at the time, instead of 1974 NBA MVP Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. A UPI report described the methodology:

How did the computer arrive at Erving being better than Abdul-Jabbar? The carefully programmed system took into consideration such areas of individual performance as points scored, field goal percentage, assists, steals, rebounds, and blocked shots. Dr. J., the New York Nets’ brilliant forward, received a 33.06 efficiency rating to 31.56 for Milwaukee’s Abdul-Jabbar, who wasn’t even second in the standings.

If you, like me, have wasted any of your precious Government-Allotted Free Time reading about basketball statistics, you’ll recognize that those particular individual stats invite all sorts of problems, and so, generally, does the practice of collating tons of stats into one all-purpose stat soup. But hopefully you’ll also acknowledge that sports statistics were immature in the ‘70s, so this is a good effort. Plenty of present-day dummies with much better information at their disposal have promoted worse all-encompassing stats than the one invented by the makers of Crown Royal whiskey.

I’m also a big fan of anyone describing man-made algorithmic analysis by assigning agency to “the computer,” as if a PC is just sitting on a desk farting out sports takes unprovoked. If it’s the computer’s fault, then you can get mad at the computer, like this writer threatening violence against whatever machine snubbed O.J. Simpson in 1975:

The Journal Herald (October 29, 1975)

That same computer hopped on the MJ bandwagon remarkably early. In 1985, Jordan won Rookie of the Year, made the All-Star team, and ranked sixth in the MVP race, including a couple first-place votes. It’s pretty amazing for a rookie to get that much recognition from voters, but those human media members didn’t love him nearly as much as the ol’ booze computer.

The Brattleboro Reformer (May 16, 1985)

According to the algorithm, Jordan’s statistical profile was better than the veterans who surpassed him in MVP voting: Bird, Magic, Kareem, Moses Malone ... all of ‘em. The 22-year-old sounded dismayed and even embarrassed to have won something over the actual MVP:

“I can’t compare myself to Larry Bird. I still feel he’s the best in the league. I guess I can say computer-wise I beat out Bird.”

Two years later, our more experienced, less bashful Jordan got another Seagram trophy, beating out the official 1987 MVP, Magic. Even if human media members wouldn’t divorce Jordan’s record-setting excellence from his team’s mediocrity, a distillery and its algorithm had his back from the beginning.

Said Michael upon winning it again in ‘87: “I’d like to thank the computer. If it wasn’t for that, I might not have gotten an MVP award this year.” Nor that $10,000 check!

Jordan would go on to win actual MVP the following season when the Bulls won 50 games. And then the Bulls would, ya know, improve a lot more than that. Things turned out fine for Michael Jordan, is what I’m saying.

But in 1987, Jordan was still just a record-setting one-man show worried he’d be known only as a scorer, disappointed that reporters wouldn’t acknowledge his historic performance in adverse conditions. Michael needed some validation. So, hey ... thanks, computer.

[winchester-with-wings]

Friday Night Friend ‘Date’ (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: (Peter’s POV.) Peter struggles to hide his feelings about you from his best friends on a supposedly normal Friday night.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 2300ish (what da heck! Haven’t written in weeks and this just came out of nowhere!)

A/N: Peter Parker gives me all the HS feels! I got this idea while I was getting ready for work yesterday and it suddenly turned into a thing and kept getting longer. Hope ya’ll like it! Lemme know!

Includes prompts: “Can I kiss you right now” and “Shut up and Kiss me already.”

I’ll add tags later in a reblog.

Mobile Masterlist Ko-Fi (buy me a coffee to support me & my writing) Ask Box

It took Peter too long to realize that the way he used to look at Liz is how he’s always looked at you. The only difference was that he didn’t share that realization with Ned. He was sure that if Ned knew how he felt about their other best friend, then Ned would try to play matchmaker.

Besides, even once Peter realized it, he didn’t even try to stop himself.

He’s sitting on your bed like he’s always done on Friday nights--this time Ned isn’t there. You’d just finished a school assignment and were getting ready to meet Ned at the movies. Now that he’s aware of his feelings for you, everything’s different. He watches you get ready for the night at the vanity in your private bathroom. You don’t even notice his staring when you look at him in the mirror.

You didn’t even think twice about taking your shirt off in front of him. You’re wearing a purple sports bra and basketball shorts. You let him pick a playlist on your phone. He didn’t realize when he picked the one he did that he was setting himself up to watch you dance. You sway side to side as you search through your closet and pick out your favorite flannel. Your bare feet with your painted toenails pad around on the floor.

You both laugh when you trip on the carpet and almost fall.

Peter realizes how much he loves your hair while you’re brushing it. Even if your grumbling and complaining about the tangles, he loves the finished product, so soft and shiny. He contemplates what kind of context he could give as an excuse to touch it.

But then he feels creepy.

He notices his blush in his reflection of the mirror. He falls back on your bed, exasperated. You notice and giggle.

“I’m sorry I’m taking so long. I’m almost done,” you comment, thinking he’s commenting on your routine.

“No, no. It’s okay. Take your time. We’ve got a while,” Peter mumbles, rolling around on your bed to look at the clock on your nightstand. He smells the strawberry scent of your shampoo on your pillows.

He jumps to his feet and gets away from your bed. A teenage boy with a crush on you shouldn’t be in your bed. It’s a recipe for disaster. Nevermind the fact that he’s been there for years.

Instead, Peter wanders around the room he’s so familiar with. He looks over all of the pictures on your wall surrounding your decathalon medals and debate trophies. It’s strange, this new perspective that Peter has, all he sees is how close you and he are in each picture--hanging on each other and hugging and goofing around. You don’t do that with Ned as much. If Ned wasn’t even in the pictures, Peter thinks people might assume you and he were a couple. Peter grins at that idea.

“That was a fun weekend,” you comment, coming out of the bathroom and noticing which photo he’s looking at. “Ned killed it with that last question. Remember that place we for ice cream afterwards?”

“Y-yeah…” Peter stutters, taking in the sight of you. You look stunning. At some point when he hadn’t been looking, you’d changed into a pair of tight jeans. “You got whipped cream on your nose,” Peter teases. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah...because you put it there,” you stick your tongue out at him and head back to the bathroom.

“Aren’t you ready now?”

“Almost, just gotta put on my make-up and brush my teeth.” He stands in the doorway of your bathroom, scrutinizing as you put on make-up. Before you put on lip gloss, you brush your teeth.

“What? What are you staring at?” you turn to look at Peter right as you stick the toothbrush in your mouth.

He’s amused by how vigorously you brush but he thinks that’s what it must take to have such a pretty smile.

“W-why do you put on so much make-up?” he murmurs, making sure to keep the admiration out of his voice and opting to sound confused instead. You scowl at him while you finish brushing.

“What? What’s wrong with it? I didn’t think it was too much,” you frown and inspect yourself in the mirror.

“N-no-no I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not too much. I guess I just...meant...why do you wear it at all?” You make eye contact with Peter. He crosses his arms over his chest and shrugs, nonchalant (hopefully).

“Um...well...I’m going out in public with friends…”

“But you do know that you don’t have to wear make-up for me and Ned?” Peter suddenly has the worried thought that you want to look good for other guys instead.

“Yeah, I know. You and Ned see me without make up all the time. But...putting make-up on makes me look and feel good.” You pose for Peter with a big smile and your hands on your cocked hips.

“Oh, okay. If that’s why, then I get it.”

“What are you getting at?” You scowl at Peter, scrutinizing him as he puts on his shoes and avoids eye contact. He sees how easily you slip into some boots.

“I was just trying to say you didn’t have to put make-up on around me. You look really pretty already without it,” he pauses for a beat, shocked at himself for saying what he thinks. “At least I think you do,” he mumbles, swinging for the fences and hoping you don’t realize what he’s confessing...but also hoping that you do. He can’t stand keeping this secret from you. You know everything about him, including the fact that he’s Spider-man

“Oh….” you tuck your hair behind your ear. Peter glances up for a moment and thinks he might see you blushing. “Thanks, Petey.”

“Do you think I need some?” he jokes to lighten the mood.

“Aww...Peter you don’t need make-up...no amount would fix that face,” you tease and tap him on the nose. Peter loops his arm around your shoulders, bends you forward and pretends to give you a noogie. “Nooo my hair!!!” you squeal and together you laugh.

The wind chill is harsh on the walk to the theater with you. Walking through a throng of people, you'd eventually hooked your arm through Peter’s to ensure sticking together, walking side by side. You turn your face into his shoulder a few times against the biting air too.

When Peter and you get to the theater, Ned is there and waiting.

“I already bought the tickets,” he sways by way of greeting.

“Cool. I'll get the popcorn,” you smile. Ned’s eyes go wide and Peter gasps. “What's wrong?”

“Your cheeks,” Ned giggles.

“And your nose...they’re really red,” Peter winces, knowing you wouldn’t be happy about it. But the frown on your face is adorable and Peter thinks you look like the most adorable little Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.

“I didn't bring anything to cover it up. Is it that bad?” You look to Peter for the honest answer. Peter wraps his arm around your shoulders and starts ushering you into the theater.

“It’s not that bad. Trust me.” But of course you don't believe him. Ned and Peter head into the auditorium while you go to the bathroom to check and then to get the popcorn.

“When did Y/N become so concerned about her looks?” Ned comments to Peter.

“I don't know,” Peter shrugs. It’s become hard to be impartial and hide his crush from his other best friend too.

“Oh! Maybe it's because homecoming is coming up. You think she has someone in mind to take her?”

A twinge of jealousy rises up in Peter and he nearly trips on his way to his seat.

“I dunno,” he mumbles.

“Maybe one of us should ask her? Just in case?” Peter scowls at Ned.

“Dude, come on. Not cool.” They plop down in their seats.

“Yeah, you’re right. She'll definitely get asked. We should worry about ourselves.”

When you return, you've brought popcorn and bottled sodas. Ned and Peter are sitting next to each other. Peter thinks for a moment that maybe you might want to sit between them but you don't seem to hesitate when sitting next to Peter, effectively putting him in the middle. You offer him the popcorn to hold as the “middle-person” and as you settle in beside him, he shares a shaky smile with you as the movie starts.

It's a comedy and action movie. It's fun and something all three of you had wanted to see. Peter likes to watch you out of his peripheral as you stifle your bouts of laughter. About half way through, you try to use the arm rest. But Peter's already using it.

You bump elbows and quietly fight for the comfortable position...that is until you lace your fingers through his. You've found your preferred resting place for your hand!

Peters ears are burning but no one can see them thankfully. Your eyes are trained on your hands though. You're not paying attention to the movie. You finally turn your head to look at Peter. You seem to notice his anxiety right away. You try to release him, let go of his hand...but Peter’s grip tightens.

He doesn't want this to end. This could be his chance. You beat him too it.

Slowly and very reserved, you lean closer to Peter and place a soft kiss on his cheek. Ned doesn’t notice how Peter freezes, stiff with surprise.

He glances down to confirm that you’re still holding his hand. You even give it a gentle little squeeze before resting your head on his shoulder. And that’s how you two stay for the rest of the movie.

When the movie is over, the three of you leave the theater talking about it. Everything is back to normal.

“I have an early morning tomorrow. I gotta go,” you lament during a break in the conversation.

“Oh, okay, we’ll talk to you later,” Ned bids you goodbye and you wave to Peter as you start to wake away. Ned notices Peter watching you leave. “Dude. Come on. Go after her,” he pushes at Peter’s shoulder. Peter just stares at his friend for a moment, dumbfounded. Ned rolls his eyes and walks away in the direction of his home.

Peter has no choice but to head home too.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” he calls out to you and you turn, hands stuffed into your pockets for warmth. Peter bounces over to you. “Um...I was wondering...if uh...I could...um...walk you home?” Peter panics. “You know, because we live so close to each other. Makes sense, right?” He wincing at his own awkward question but you just smile at him.

“Sure, Petey.” Peter crooks out his arm so that you can huddle up to him just like the walk before the movie. You slide your hand down his arm until you reach his hand. You weave your fingers with his again while you two walk in silence for several minutes. “Hey Peter? Do you really think I look pretty without make-up?” You’re using his own word choice from earlier against him.

“We’re best friends. Of course...I’m gonna tell you...that you look good.” Peter rolls his eyes and chides himself as he walks you up to your front door.

“But do you mean it?” you ask him as you turn to face him. Peter can’t resist making eye contact with you.

“I-if I do? What then? I..I mean...Y/N…” Peter starts to ramble and shift his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know what to say…in this situation...please help me,” he pleads and chuckles when he notices the smile growing on your face. You squeeze his hand like a mute button and Peter just stares at you as you start to lean in.

He’s frozen and even keeps his eyes open like a dork when your lips meet his. And when you pull away, his lips are still pursed and he looks and feels more confused than ever.

“Y-you could ask me to homecoming?” you whisper nervously. It’s so endearing and sweet, Peter thinks, as he watches you blush. Why are you the nervous one? As if he would say no!

“I could? I--I mean, I could.” Peter releases your hand and takes a step back. He runs his hands through his hair and spins around, befuddled. “I will.” He turns back around to look at you and takes a step forward. “I mean..I am. Would you?” He winces at himself again. “Will you? Say yes?”

“Of course. I’d love to go to homecoming with you.”

“Great!” Peter does a backflip as he’s so prone to his Spider-man acrobatics around his best friends. He sticks to the ceiling of the hallway outside your apartment. You laugh as he hangs upside down. He crawls to the wall and sets himself up like he’s leaning against it, even though his feet and hands are sticking to the wall instead of touching the floor. “I mean...that’s cool…’cause like...we’re really good friends...so maybe we’d be even better as…” He’s shrugging a lot, trying to play it cool.

“More than friends?” you finish for him.

“Um...yeah.” he sighs and gets back on his two feet on the floor. “Anyways, I should probably go now,” and he starts to leave, “before I push my luck but um…” he turns back around and comes back within two feet of you. “I was wondering if...can I kiss you right now? I mean, I know you’ve already kissed me but like...I wasn’t ready...and um...”

“Peter?” you cut him off.

“Yeah?”

“Just shut up and kiss me already,” you giggle as you loop your arms around his neck.

[justanothercinemaniac]

Epic Movie (Re)Watch #180 - Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed

Spoilers below.

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: Yes.

Was it a movie I saw since August 22nd, 2009: No.

Format: DVD

1) So with the first film writer James Gunn had written a darker script meant to poke fun at the original series and gain a PG-13 rating, but after the cast signed on this was changed into a family friendly film. With the sequel, writer Gunn returns and this time everyone knew what kind of movie they were going to make from the beginning (which relates to some more solid structure in this film than the last).

2) Scooby-Doo Theory holds that whoever the protagonists talks to first is the person who did it. The first person they talk to in this film is Alicia Silverstone’s Heather Jasper Howe who ends up being the bad guy.

3) Okay, Coolsville opens up a museum exhibit about Mystery Inc. and their past foes. It is said that the gang, “donated,” the costumes. But…why are the costumes their’s to donate? Aren’t they police evidence? Do they steal the costumes from every crime as some sort of weird trophy and stash them all in a storage locker somewhere? Am I overthinking this? Let’s move on.

4) What the heck!? Seth Green is in this movie!?

5) Linda Cardellini continues to be absolutely excellent as Velma Dinkley, but one side we get to see in this film that we didn’t in the first is lovesick puppy Velma. Her crush on Seth Green’s Patrick is portrayed as cute, sweet, honest, and is just enjoyable to watch. I think Cardellini is great in both of these films and gets an even greater chance to shine in this one.

6) I always liked The Evil Masked Figure in this film.

I think it’s purely a taste of aesthetics. I like the metallic head, the hair, the cloak. He’s not really a character so much as a plot device and he does pale in comparison to the classic monsters which populate the film, but I just dig the design.

7) I think the early action set piece of Shaggy and Scooby getting pulled around the museum by the Pterodactyl Ghost is a little stagey. It FEELS like they’re on a film set as opposed to even the fun of the cartoon chases. But that just may be me.

8) What the fanboy in me loves about this film is the way it brings in all the classic monsters from the old cartoons. James Gunn is a fan himself and it shows because - much like he is able to fill up Guardians of the Galaxy with notable characters, references, and alien species - he brings in a lot of A-list villains from the show. The Black Knight Ghost and the 10,000 Volt Ghost in particular were always favorites of mine and it is REMARKABLY fun to see them, the Tar Monster, the Zombie, Captain Cutler’s Ghost, and The Miner 49-er brought to live action (among others).

9) Okay, so Heather Jasper Howe’s reporting is 100% slander and illegal. She is taking everything Mystery Inc. says out of context to make them appear bad in the public light. Yes, she’s the villain, this is part of the plan. But unless you’re working for an obviously biased news source like Fox News you would not be allowed to get away with this. Still, when I start to question the realism of a Scooby-Doo movies the whole thing falls apart.

10) The primary conflict for Scooby and Shaggy in this film is them questioning their worth/value to the team. This makes for surprisingly interesting character conflict and an equally surprising emotional arc for the film. I like it!

11) According to IMDb:

The original Scooby-Doo episode dealing with the pterodactyl ghost featured a villain and motive that were quite different. The pterodactyl/hang glider costume was used to smuggle pirated music, with the small-town mayor behind the whole scheme.

12) I cannot begin to express how funny my tiny eight year old self found this joke.

Shaggy [after the gang goes through all their notes, which Scooby has been jotting down]: “Scooby-Doo, what’s your conclusion?”

Scooby: “Bunny!”

13) I have a feeling this film had a product placement agreement with Burger King. Scooby was drinking from a Burger King cup earlier and then this:

14) I may have watched The Mummy too many times.

Fred: “What could possibly happen by ringing a doorbell?”

15) So Shaggy messes with a record player and “Baby Got Back” starts playing. Which begs the question: WHO ON EARTH HAS A VINYL OF “Baby Got Back”!?

16) According to IMDb:

At one point in the film, Scooby and Shaggy are pretending to sing into a toilet brush "microphone". The song they are actually singing is Strangers in the Night - Frank Sinatra's version featured the improvised scat lyrics, "Scoo-bee-doo-bee-doo", lyrics which then-CBS executive Fred Silverman chose as the name of the new cartoon series. The original name for the dog was "Too Much", a popular catchphrase of the era.

17) The entire Black Knight Ghost chase through the mansion is very cartoonish, which I mean as a compliment. It feels like it is ripped straight out of an old episode of the cartoon, speaking again to the great way James Gunn handles the source material.

18) Why is Daphne wearing a shirt with her own face on it?

19) Again: this made me laugh so hard as an eight year old.

Black Knight [after Velma kicks him in the nuts]: “Right in the round tables!”

20) This film was released in 2004, can you tell?

Fred: “…this mystery goes down like a dot com and Coolsville digs us again!”

21) I ship Velma and Daphne. I have a feeling so does James Gunn.

(Screenshot taken of a GIF originally posted by @ezekiels)

22) Linda Cardellini gets to be exceptionally funny in this film for one BIG reason:

Patrick: “Do you have to go to the bathroom?”

Velma: “No, I can’t in this outfit.”

23) The Faux Ghost.

This is a wonderful concept featured in the film which once again shows off just how deeply familiar writer James Gunn is with the source material. Just the idea that a bar for all the people Mystery Inc caught exists is wonderfully fun. The art design and characters all stand out in a wonderfully fun scene.

24) Whoa, this is pretty deep for Scooby-Doo 2.

Old Man Wickles [about being a masked villain]: “We needed people to believe we were different than we were. Maybe because we believed there was something wrong with who were in the first place.”

This also means the song which plays in the club - “Thank You For Letting Me By Myself” - has much more meaning than one might initially expect.

25) This line was improvised.

Velma [after she lets out a squeak]: “That was my outfit, I swear.”

26) It’s kinda fun seeing Seth Green go into psychotic badass mode on this goon. My primary experience with him is through “Buffy” where he mostly plays his character as emotionally controlled. This is a fun change from that. Also, Shaggy gets in a sick burn because of it.

Shaggy [after seeing Patrick act a little crazy]: “But we gotta make like your personality and split!”

27) What even is this movie!?

Old Man Wickles [after Scooby gives away his position hiding in a bush]: “Darn bushes toweling at me again.”

AGAIN!?

28) Ah, the potion gag.

So there was a lot of work trying to figure out exactly what gags to use. At one point, Scooby was going to turn into his hand drawn counterpart as a replacement to a much less favored gag of Scooby turning into George W. Bush. The filmmakers didn’t want to compare 3D Scooby with 2D Scooby so they had him turn into the Tasmanian Devil instead. It’s kinda random and pointless, but not unenjoyable. It’s kinda fun to watch, it just has nothing to do with the rest of the plot.

29) In this moment, I am Shaggy.

Shaggy: “We’re gonna die!”

Daphne: “Think positive!”

Shaggy: “We’re gonna die quickly!”

30) Okay hold on a second: the monsters share the same hatred of Mystery Inc. that their portrayers had? But why? They’re not the same people are they? Do they have the memories of their human counterparts? Are they the vision of the criminals who portrayed them fully realized?

31) The old high school clubhouse scene is a surprisingly poignant moment of vulnerability and character interaction for Mystery Inc. The flashback - even though it’s a little cringe worthy seeing the young Mystery Inc (with their awkward imitations of the main cast and weirdly dubbed over voices from the main actors) - allows for us to understand the core of their relationship. In a lot of ways, this is the beating heart of the film. Mystery Inc and the friendship they have with each other.

32) Again: I am Shaggy.

Shaggy [while being chased]: “This is tied for the most terrifying day of my life!”

Velma: “Tied with what?”

Shaggy: “EVERY OTHER FREAKING DAY OF MY LIFE!”

33) HOW DID THE BLACK KNIGHT GET A GHOST HORSE!? Wouldn’t they need a horse costume to do that?

34) Ah, Buffy speak used by a “Buffy” actor.

Daphne: “Taste the pain Mr. Glowy Ugly Thing!”

35) I love this.

Velma [after Shaggy and Scooby say they’re trying to be more like the gang]: “That’s funny. I always wanted to be like you guys.”

This speaks greatly to just how freaking important Shaggy and Scooby are to the group. They’re the beating heart, it’s called Scooby-Doo for a reason. And the fact that Velma is able to so honestly and believably say she wants to be like Shaggy and Scooby is a surprisingly touching moment in the film.

36) It only took Velma 45 years to admit this.

Velma [after her glasses fall off]: “I’ve got to consider contact lenses.”

37) According to IMDb:

The Cotton Candy Glob is a tribute to the Cotton Candy Monsters who appeared in the story "Goop on the Loose" in the Scooby-Doo comics published by DC Comics, where the culprits were a child and two henchmen trying to get revenge from being fired from a carnival. The Cotton Candy Monsters were mentioned in A Pup Named Scooby-Doo: Terror, Thy Name Is Zombo (1989).

38) I JUST got that the game of keep away they play with the monster making control panel reflects the game of frisbee we saw them playing in the flashback.

(GIF originally posted by @leaveatraill)

39) Tar Monster seems like he has a ridiculous amount of power. Like he can single handedly nearly kill ALL of Mystery Inc. Why not just release the Tar Monster on the world? I feel like THAT’D be a better plan!

40) The Evil Masked Figure is unmasked and revealed to be Heather Jasper Howe. But her hair and makeup are perfect. Shouldn’t she have - like - helmet hair or something?

41) Scooby running to Shaggy like they haven’t seen each other in ages is totally unearned. Shaggy just put on a mask and took it off and Scooby acts all excited! But, it’s still kinda nice.

42) What the heck? This film has a secret mini movie!?

A commercial!?

Much like the first Scooby Doo film, Monsters Unleashed is hardly a cinematic masterpiece but the kid in my absolutely loves it. The characterization is continually strong (as is the acting), it’s a lot of fun to see the old monsters in a live action format, and it’s just an enjoyable 90ish minutes. There are movies which have aged worse so if you have fond memories of this or are a fan of the Scooby-Doo franchise, give it a watch.

[nicksilveirart]

(SING!) Story Not Told, chapter 10 – Guess Things Happen That Way

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (MATURE)

Click here to read chapter 10:

Sunlight filled the main Moon Theatre office. It was a beautiful day, the town hardly awake, morning breeze blowing. Buster, who rose with the sun, turned off his alarm clock and laid down in bed with his now-girlfriend Ash. He looked up at the time. They still had some time before everyone arrived. He hugged her close, and in her sleep, she returned the gesture. He smiled and gently nuzzled her cheek. "Good morning, sunshine…" She tried turning to the other side, but he held her. "Time to get up…" He singsonged. "Let me sleep…" He gently pecked down her neck. She shivered. "S-Stop…" "After you kiss me." Ash lazily pecked his lips. "Much better. Not a morning person?" He laughed softly. "Not a before-dawn person." "Not even to cuddle with someone?" He came closer. She shook her head. "You know I'm just going to irritate you awake, right?" He gently grabbed her shoulders. "You're gonna get stung." "Worth it." He kissed down her shoulder blade. She groaned. "Are you like this with all your girlfriends?" "Why, too cheesy for you?" He teased. "More like not used to it." She yawned. He laughed. "Morning, sweetheart." "Morning, Buster." She gently caressed his cheek, and smiled seeing him lean into her hand. "Why are you up this early?" "Got a theatre to keep running. Wanna head out and grab some breakfast?" "At six in the morning?" He shrugged. "First batch of bread is always the best batch." "Point." Gently pushing him off, she stood up and stretched out. "Long ride?" "Two blocks." He said, buttoning his shirt. "Fine enough." "Oh yeah? You take the challenge?" She could practically hear him smirking, and was about to retort when realization struck her. "My clothes are downstairs, can you-?" "Guitar case?" "Yes." "Be right back." He took off the stairs. Wrapping herself up in a blanket, she stood up and started going over his various personal paraphernalia - A variety of scripts, trophies (none of which had his name, she couldn't help noticing) and books. Many books. She pulled one from the shelf. On Stage, by Orson Whales. She chuckled to herself. "The irony…" This copy was nothing like the one Tara had lent her a couple days prior. It was worn out, and the pages were yellowish. Opening it, she saw a handwritten message. You've grown into a fine young man, and I trust your talent. This is a little gift to help you understand the next step of your journey. Make the best out of it. -Dad Going deeper into the book, she found several group pictures. Smiling animals, not rarely in costumes, bowing on stage. Pictures of a much younger Buster and, she guessed, his dad. She couldn't help but laugh at some of the photographs. Who'd say once upon a time Buster had long hair. She flipped some more pages. Both of them cleaning up a car. Buster's graduation ceremony. She was so immersed in the pictures she didn't even noticed the small figure right behind her. "Having fun?" She dropped the book, scattering many pictures along the floor. "Uh… Sorry." "I don't mind." He smiled as he kneeled down and started to gather the photos once again. "How much did you see?" "You look nice with long hair." She joined him on the ground, re-adjusting the thin white fabric around her. "I told you I was in a band." "Heavy metal?" She was holding laughter. "Soft rock." She burst out laughing. "Hey, in thirty years you are gonna look back at your pictures and feel the same way!" "I still can't get over you once being in a band, rock or not." He stared at her. She laughed, and slid a photograph to him. "Is this your dad?" Buster had a nostalgic smile on his face. "Yes. This is from the first play I ever directed, I was in middle school." He was absentmindedly running his fingers on the portrait. "He was so proud of me, he smiled like there was no tomorrow." His expression turned sad, and she quickly moved over to him, gently rubbing his back. He put the photograph back on it's spot. "I miss him… But having him in my life for some time was a privilege." Done gathering the pictures, he slid the book back to its place. "Are you okay?" It broke her heart to see him like this. "Yes, I just… I miss him, I wish he could be here with me." Ash gently held his face, and locked lips with him. Kissing back, he wrapped his arms around her. "Thanks. Let's get dressed, the bakery's about to open." "Are you okay?" He nodded firmly. "Okay." Quickly, she slid her clothes on. His mood improved in a matter of seconds. Soon, he was talking about shows he had held and how much he had liked playing in a band. Not too long after, both of them walked down the streets, directed to the bakery.

"Thanks for the meal." Buster merely nodded, checked to see if there was anyone around, and gently kissed her lips. "Let's go in two, you know… Not to raise suspicion." Ash laughed. "Ladies first." He paused, and shot her a humorous smirk. Walking ahead, he peaked his head into the theatre. Great. The show to be set around two in the afternoon, of course everyone made sure to arrive early. He carefully closed the door. "Everyone's in there." "Expected." Ash laughed. "You have the weirdest screening times." "But you know we won't-" "Kiss, or hold hands, or anything that doesn't suit you being a contest holder, and me being a competitor, yeah, you told me." "And you're fine with that?" "I told you I was. Why keep asking?" "Just making sure, you could've changed your mind or-" "I'll let you know if I do." She started walking ahead. "Ash. I don't wanna get arrested, I always gotta make sure. You understand that don't you?" "How about you show some trust." "I know, I'm sorry. I will." He came closer to her, and pulled her into his embrace. "I love you. I don't want to lose this, that we have." I love you. Leaning into his arms, she rested on his shoulder. "Me neither. You don't want to go to jail, and I don't want you to go to jail, we're on the same page." She said, pulling away from him. "And I also don't want your presentation to be late. I gotta rehearse anyway." She shrugged. "We're good?" His ears were low. Smiling, she quickly lifted them and went inside. He sighed. Boy, he loved her.

Everyone was in a hurry. Running low of time and with a special guest that was sure to arrive anytime now, it was more than understandable. Buster went around the stage to make sure everything was perfect. "Okay…" He said, done with the final arrangements. "Meena. Is Johnny here yet?" "He's practicing, Mr Moon." "Go get him, please!" He motioned for the elephant to go upstairs. "Everyone, please-" He was about to tell them the performance's order when a song caught his ears. It was catchy, and full of rhythm. Chasing after the sound, he found Ash, carefully striking the strings of her guitar. He paused. The melody was amazing, but when her voice came along he froze in place, mouth slightly agape. For a second, he thought about going over, and holding her close to him and kissing her, but soon decided otherwise. It would not end well. Being as silent as possible, he took stand by the door. "When you set it all free, all free, all free, you set it all free!" Ash was absorbed in her song, trying to both master it and fix any chord put erroneously, any string she might've pulled by accident. It was written in half a day, she barely had time to practice, but at least it was her song. Opening her eyes, she started going over the sound in her head. "Wow. You wrote that?" "Uhh… Yeah. You like it?" He seemed bewildered. Until she saw that smile form. "Are you kidding? It's fantastic! You gotta sing that today!" His mood and persona lifted almost immediately as he ran off. She did it. I knew she could, he thought, smiling to himself as he started giving directions. "Mike! You're on first!"

Buster took a deep breath as he was being lowered down to the stage. I got one shot. "All creatures great and small! Welcome to the Moon Theatre. I am your host, Buster Moon, and-" His speech was suddenly interrupted by the seemingly free fall onto the ground. The rope came to a halt, and Buster balanced once again onto the moon, symbol of the theatre. "Okay. Behold! The very first stage lit entirely by squid power!" He finished, squids all around him flashing in coordination with a beat. Ash had seen it all not too long ago, but seeing Buster perform along with it added something special to the spectacle. Everyone on stage was clapping at the show, almost mesmerized by the colors. 'Wows' could be heard along the cast. That is, until three massive bears broke into the place. "Hey, hey, hey! You can't just barge in here!" "You know this guy?" "Mike?" "Yes, he says you got his money, and it's in that box!" One word lead to another, and the irritated bears smashed the chest open, dust rising. "See that! Big guy with a bat! Who needs keys, right?" Mike said, as he jumped into the now broken chest. "Okay, let's get this thing square." He messed and messed around, finding nothing but few dollar bills and a lot of broken junk. "That's all there is?!" He jumped out. "He lied!" The cast gasped. "Moon lied to us all!" "Wait a second, I can explain…" He backed off a bit. Ash couldn't believe what she was hearing. "This is just a prop!" "Where's the hundred thousand dollars?" Buster was backing more and more off. Unbeknownst to them all, the glass just under their feet was starting to give in. "It's a box of junk? You wasted everyone's-" They heard continuous cracking, and everything came crashing down. Water flooded the theatre, and animals held onto whatever they could reach.

"Is everyone okay?!" Buster was walking around, distressed. "Nana!" The cast sat on the road just outside the theatre. People all along the streets stopped on their tracks to see what the fuzz was about. Not too long afterwards, all of them witnessed the theatre's literal downfall: The building crashed down, a cloud of dust forming. The cast carefully approached the debris. Ash was the most petrified of them, not because of the near-death situation, or seeing the building fall around her, but because she knew what it meant to Buster. The theatre he loved with all his heart, that he had so many memories with, that was a gift from his father… And the same theatre that held all of those pictures. "No…" She could see him going further into the theatre, until he collapsed to the ground. Miss Crawly was with him in a minute. Digging into the debris, he went across a familiar object. "Dad… I'm so sorry." No longer capable of holding it in, and feeling more lost than ever, he broke into tears, hugging the bucket close. The cast watching him from a distance, before parting ways. Ash, however, remained on the heartbreaking scene.

[drabblemesilly]

Jake Virtanen #5

Requested by Anon:  Love your stories!! Can you please do a Jake V one where you visit your friend in Abby who happens to work at the same rink as Jakes brother. And you kick it off with Jake on the ice. Thanks b!

*Hiii!! Thank you so so much! This isn’t exactly like your request but I hope you like this just the same. Enjoy!:)*

Word count: 946

The gold streaks on his hair shone like a halo on top of his holy head. Except this is Jake Virtanen and you know he’s not as holy as he seems. Except maybe he’s changed seeing that you haven’t seen him post-NHL draft.

You’ve always spent a couple of days during the summer with family in Abbotsford up until a few years ago, when college took over your life and you forgot that you had people in Abby that you care about. Jake, once upon a time was one of those people but that’s a time forgotten. Now, he’s just this NHL player who you used to watch twirling on ice with his brother when they’re both in town during the off-season.

Speaking of, you could see Stefan Virtanen skating with a couple of kids more than half his age, giggling and falling to their feet, following the older Virtanen around.

You walked over to Jake and asked, “is this seat taken?”

He had a smile plastered on his face when he looked at you. A smile that only got wider when he realized who was standing in front of him, “no,” he chuckled, “never for you.”

You sat beside him on the bleacher and crossed your jean-clad legs, “still smooth, I see,” you laughed, “the NHL help you practice your pickup lines?”

“More like the AHL,” he grinned lightly, reminding you that he was put down to the minors early on in the season. Probably seeing how your face fell a little, he bumped his shoulder against yours, “hey, you win some, you lose some, eh?” he winked, “don’t worry, I’ll be back next season.”

You grinned at him, “then I better dust off my Virtanen sign for October, huh?”

He chuckled, “you should.”

You both settled in a comfortable silence. He might be thinking about a million and one things but all you could remember is how this Jake Virtanen was the same kid who, at twelve, was a new boy in Abbotsford. This is the same boy who stole you first kiss, the one who promised to give it back to you when you’re twenty. You refuse to remind him that he still hasn’t given it back yet until now.

Jake Virtanen was pretty much a big part of your childhood if only for the massive crush you had on him when you were fourteen. Gosh, that crush deal was the reason you made a fool of yourself and learned how to skate the summer you turned fifteen. You never skated again after that massive shitshow.

You gestured towards the rink, “why are you here and not in there?”

He raised his bandaged ankle, “it’s time out for me,” he explained, “it’s just a sprain I got when playing basketball yesterday so it’s no big deal,” he shrugged, “I’ll be good tomorrow.”

You bumped his shoulder this time, “you better stick with hockey then,” you chuckled.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “don’t want the future Art Ross Trophy winner to have some basketball-related injury, do we?”

“Totally,” you nodded before teasing him, “we’d want Dyan Strome away from a basketball court for sure.”

He snickered, before asking with a sigh, “how are you?”

“Meh,” you shrugged, “university sucks,” you laughed, “but a girl’s gotta do, you know?” you rolled your eyes at him, “not everyone can be professional athletes just like you.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I took some beating this season,” he grinned like it didn’t hurt him, “reality sucker punched me in the face.”

“But it made you stronger, didn’t it?” you laughed, “but I’m not trying to psycho-analyze you or anything.”

“Or anything,” he repeated, chuckling. Suddenly, he asked, “do you still drink pop like your life depended on it?”

You lifted the pop bottle you had hidden in your bag, “I’m THISCLOSE to just having it IV-ed into my body by now.”

He scrunched his nose, “those aren’t healthy,” he reminded you.

You rolled your eyes, “then I’m glad I’m not the athlete in this conversation.”

Jake looked at you for a second before turning his attention to the rink, a smile on his face.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, still looking at the little boys and girls fighting for pucks, “some things just don’t change is all,” he said.

“I’m still me,” you agreed, “but you’ve become Jake Virtanen,” you said with awe in your voice.

He frowned, his hands gripping the edge of the seat, “I’ve always been Jake Virtanen?” he reminded you, “just in case you forgot my name.”

You chuckled, “yeah but now you’re THE Jake Virtanen.”

“Ha,” he puffed his chest, “the Jake Virtanen who got put down to the AHL not even halfway through the season.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “you were the one who said you lose some, you win some, didn’t you?”

He nodded, “I did,” he gave you a genuine smile, “I probably should stop beating myself, eh?”

“You should,” you nodded, “you’re still one of the hottest prospects, Jakers,” you used the nickname you gave him when you were younger.

“Hot as in,” he fanned himself, “panties exploding hot?” he grinned.

“Hot as in you’re well talked about,” you corrected him, “and panties drop, ovaries explode,” you laughed, “for next time.”

You stood up and squeezed his shoulder, “my sign will be there waiting for you in Vancouver next season,” you smiled, “but now, I have to go.”

You turned to walk away from him and towards your waiting friend but he called out your name before you could go any farther.

“Yeah?” you turned.

Jake smiled, “I missed you.”

You smiled back, “you too, first-kiss thief.”

[lifeanddeathsscenarios]

All We Fantasize

llchocolattell requested: sf9 first win scenario

Honestly, I’m waiting for this to happen. A Fantasy can only fantasize... However, we can also make it happen! Hopefully, I’m close to what would actually happen.

Also, Happy Hwiyoung Day everyone! Our little dolphin rapper is no longer a child any more! (He’s still a child in my heart but on paper he’s an adult...) I hope he had a great day and that you all do as well!

Summary: All the singing lessons, all the rap sessions, all the dance practices, all their sweat and tears, every time their practice room mirror fogged up, it all paid off. But nothing felt better than knowing how much their Fantasy loved them.

It was something that they could only imagine. It was something that their fans, their Fantasys, could only fantasize; it was all they could fantasize.

It’s a dream for every idol group out there, especially newly debuted groups. However, it was extremely hard to achieve. It was unfair, but it seemed as if you were only guaranteed the achievement if you were from one of the top three biggest companies in Korea.

But that wasn’t always true. Eye catching idol groups usually achieve the title. It was always going to be up to the public and the fans.

“Okay, let’s run through it one more time,” their leader said, getting up from his position on the floor.

Instead of groaning and complaining, the sweaty boys got up silently and stood in their position as their manager started the music. 

The glass mirror around their practice room fogged up from their efforts, the room becoming too humid. When the song had finished, the boys all collapsed from their spot they had ended on.

Complaints came from the members when their leader got up from his position once again, ruining the sweaty dog pile.

“Let’s all go back to the dorm and wash up. We have a schedule early in the morning tomorrow,” Youngbin told them, starting to clean up. “Get up guys, we gotta clean up. We don’t want what happened last time do we?”

The boys groaned in unison before actually getting up and helping their leader tidy the practice room.

“There really is no rest as an idol...” Dawon grumbled as he wiped down the practice room mirror, smiling when the rest of the members chuckled around him.

When they arrived back at their dorms, they fought for the shower (with democratic rock, paper, scissors). Jaeyoon cheered when he beat the youngest, who stared at his own hand as if it had betrayed him, and rushed into the bathroom without saying anything else. The rest of the boys readied themselves for their turn in the shower or fixed themselves a snack.

Rowoon entered his shared room with a bowl of strawberries and sat beside Inseong on his place on the floor next to his bed. “What’re you looking at hyung?” he asked between his bites.

The older boy was fiddling with a phone, which he had borrowed from Chani. “I’m checking Twitter.”

“Why?”

Inseong paused for a short while, unsure if he should say anything.

From his place at the top bunk, Chani got up and looked down at them. “Hyung. It’s better if roommates know each other’s secrets. Besides, it’s unfair if you know just because you borrowed my phone.”

Just at that moment, Dawon entered the room with a bowl of sliced bananas.

“Shut the door,” Inseong told him quickly.

The other boy looked confused, with his mouth stuffed full of banana slices, but did as told. He sat on the other side of the eldest boy and asked after he had swallowed down his food, “What’s going on? Are we sharing secrets?”

The eldest and youngest shushed him, making the boy frown.

Inseong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I heard that we’re trending on Twitter.”

“And Tumblr. And Facebook,” Chani said, uninterested. “We’re trending on Youtube too.”

“REALLY?!” Rowoon practically screamed, making the other three shush him. “Sorry...”

From the other side of the door, there was a knock. “Chani, I’m done. It’s your turn.”

Said boy got down from the top bunk and headed to the bathroom after telling them to keep down. “You don’t want the rest of the members knowing. It should be a surprise for at least some of us.”

After the door closed again, Dawon and Rowoon crowded around Inseong.

“But hyung, does that mean that we might get first place?” Rowoon asked softly as they watched him scroll through Chani’s Twitter feed.

“Yeah hyung. Wouldn’t it be more obvious if we were trending on Naver?”

Inseong shook his head. “I mean, I’m just hoping that we might get first place. Just because we’re trending on those sites, it doesn’t guarantee our win.”

Dawon sighed, stealing one of Rowoon’s strawberry. “It’s wishful thinking, I guess.”

“Anything is possible,” the eldest replied without looking up from the phone. “This is our Fantasy we’re talking about.”

With a soft smile, Rowoon nodded. “A fan is the most powerful at times like this. I believe in our Fantasy,” he said before stealing slices of bananas from Dawon’s bowl.

The 95 liner didn’t seem too content with their answers but if there was one thing he believed in as well, it was their Fantasy.

“Inseong, you keep getting that part mixed up. Are you okay?” Youngbin asked, laying his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Sorry. I’m fine, I just didn’t sleep well last night,” he lied. “Let’s go through it one more time.”

The other boy wasn’t fooled but let it go, practicing the choreography with him again. The eldest tried his hardest to focus on the dance moves, pushing aside the nervousness he had.

“Hyung,” Hwiyoung suddenly cut in after they had gone through the dance a few times. “What would happen if we got first place today?”

Inseong just stared at the boy in shock, questioning if the boy knew. However, his same aged friend answered before he could ask.

“What every leader does, say thank you to everyone that helped us out. Why?”

The younger rapper shrugged, sipping at his drink. “Just wishful thinking, I guess.”

Youngbin smiled, patting the boy on the shoulder. “Let’s work hard for it.”

The other 93 liner bit his lip in anxiousness, looking around the room to find his roommates. They were all peacefully asleep, showing no hints of waking up soon or even have been awake recently. He looked back at the rapper, who was twirling his pen in his fingers while sipping at his drink. The boy looked as if he was daydreaming.

They were all wishful thinkers, Inseong concluded.

They stood on the stage beside the MCs. As always, their leader listened carefully to the MCs and the members nodded while listening as well. As always, they didn’t pay attention to the scores because they didn’t expect anything and was ready to applaud for their rival for winning. However, four of the boys stared intensely as the scores came out.

“You’re hurting me, hyung,” Jaeyoon frowned when Inseong squeezed his hand too tightly.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized before loosening his grip.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar cheering of Dawon, Rowoon, and Chani.

“Seriously? Seriously?” He heard Taeyang gasp.

“Congratulations, SF9!”

He turned to Jaeyoon, who looked back at him in shock, and couldn’t help but smile. “YEAH!” he cheered, throwing his arms around the younger boy.

Youngbin’s jaw dropped and he looked at the MCs in confusion when they handed him a mic. Chani was cheering beside him, shaking a just as shocked as his leader Hwiyoung.

Caught up in emotions, Zuho couldn’t help but turn around and cover his face as tears escaped from his eyes. Beside him, Rowoon smiled and rubbed his friend’s back with one hand while cheering and giving small finger hearts with his other hand.

Taeyang smiled, tears at the corners of his eyes but quickly wiping them away before his hyungs could see. Dawon, Jaeyoon, and Inseong played with the long strings of confetti that had landed on them while cheering with large smiles.

“Oh, thank you,” Youngbin bowed as he took the trophy, still shocked that they had gotten their first win. “Um... I’d like to thank CEO Han...” He went on to list all the staff members of FNC Entertainment that had helped them. “Thank you to our member’s family as well. Fantasy!” he called out with a smile, satisfied when they started screaming. “Thank you for this. It wouldn’t be possible without you guys. You really are our fantasy. Let’s continue to stay together and we, SF9, will continue to show a better side of us! Thank you!”

Youngbin smiled as Fantasys continued to scream and cheer for them. After the MCs thanked everyone and said their ending, everyone else started to walk off the stage so they could have their encore stage (all of SF9 bowing to other groups as they exited).

“Let’s walk this flower path together, Fantasy!” Jaeyoon said into his mic at his part.

“Mom, dad! I love you! Fantasy! I love you!” Inseong said, throwing a large heart at Fantasy.

Dawon smiled, waving at their fans. “Thank you Fantasy! This award is thanks to you! We love you!”

From the side, Rowoon and Youngbin comforted Zuho while Chani comforted Hwiyoung and Taeyang.

“Taeyang! It’s your part!” Chani said with a smile, handing him the mic.

He sang the song with a teary voice and a smile. “Ah, really...” he said at the end of his part.

As Inseong watched his members cry and smile from happiness, he thought that maybe them being wishful thinkers wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, it brought all of them there, at that very moment. The moment they had all fantasized about was made possible, just through their Fantasy.

[weliketheiroldstuff]

Rockstar Energy Disrupt Festival comes to an end, here's a look at their takeover of Michigan's DTE Energy Music Theatre

Rockstar Energy Disrupt Festival came to an end yesterday after a 6 week cross country inaugural run. It helped fill in a 10 stage hole with dueling stages since June. Disrupt is a stacked lineup that hit ampitheatres across the US and was an absolutely sweaty and humid blast in mid July Michigan. The Michigan lineup was as follows: The Used, Thrice, Sum 41, Circa Survive, Atreyu, Sleeping With Sirens, Four Year Strong, Memphis May Fire, Trophy Eyes, Juliet Simms, and Hyro The Hero. The first six bands and artists played in a side stage in the parking lot.

It was like standing in a fucking frying pan for most of the day. I could definitely be sweating more. But at the moment I'm perched under a tree at DTE trying to stay cool. All I keep thinking about is how a full mid week Siesta should be normal for everyone. I’m lucky enough to have a day job that allows me to have Wednesdays off and here I am at DTE at 2:30 already feeling like I need another shower.

Trophy Eyes are playing as a four piece today and still sounding excellent. The official word came July 16th that Kevin Cross’ last show with the band would be Splendor In The Grass. Kevin will be missed for sure but his departure comes as he is going to start a family and live the adult life and no one can really complain about it. Touring is grueling and brutal and if you don’t want to do it forever, then eventually comes a day where you gotta hang it up. We bid thee adieu Kevin!

After their set I took my sweaty ass to the bsthroom to wipe the sweat out of my face. I ventured closer to the main ampitheatre to pop a squat in some shade next to the waterfall. I forgot how truly hot pavement festivals are and am dreaming of 2.5 hours from now when I can go back to my car. And Hyro the Hero just skated by to go check out soundcheck at the main stage.

Reminds me of the days at Warped when Rick Thorne would ride by or Steve Caballero would skate by and before you can say "Hey Steve!" he would be gone.

Holy shit, $5 for a 20 oz warm water and a cup of ice. Of course they gotta keep the cap of the water. I feel like this dates back to policy from the early Ozzfests here where bands like Limp Bizkit and Sevendust got the rowdy crowds on the hill to chuck sod, dirt, and bottles of whatever down onto the pavillion. It was fun at first until bottles full of dirt were being chucked.

Memphis May Fire have elevated the technicality and strength of sound with a set that packed the parking lot stage and set the bar quite high for the rest of the day. This was my first time seeing them, shooting them, and enjoying their live experience. I get it. They fucking wail. Matty Mullins skillset as a frontman keeps the crowd into it through their entire set.

Four Year Strong is one of the most underrated bands on the face of the planet. Rise or Die Trying is one of the absolute best pop punk or technical punk albums I've ever heard. The boys have never let me down live and today is no fucking different.

Sleeping With Sirens got the biggest crowd in the parking lot and also what seemed to be the hottest set of the day so far. I'm absolutely dripping sweat through the first three songs. It's not the hottest day but it seems like each trek to the photo pit is during a cloud break and pulling the sweat out of me. As this dehydration is happening the dudes in SWS are going fucking off.

“Kick kick kick me when I'm down... errrgggahhhh!”

Those of us in the photo pit are actually matching the energy on stage, it’s fucking chaos. Crowd surfers going off and Kellin Quinn is right in my fucking face and this is one of those moments where the camera drops down for a few seconds and I just scream along with him. Fucking a. And there are photographers and journalists here who don’t know who half these bands are btw, and here’s one screaming all the lyrics to “Do It Now Remember It Later”. In this little section cut out of time I realize how so many people would do so many fucked up things to be in this situation. I can feel an epiphany coming…

I realized after the set that I’m celebrating a few months off the dabs on 710 but it is different because I’m not off concentrates as I wolf down on this fucking cartridge. Although sitting around dabbing myself stupid has stopped and for that I sweat out some toxins and know that today is about releasing a lot of energy and unveiling creativity and perseverance. My throat itches from screaming a ton and shooting more in the crowd and I run into my good younger friend from my day job Nate who is enjoying himself thoroughly as I shoot from the crowd. I’m glad someone from my job has seen me in action and knows I’m not fucking full of shit. I still have “friends” that don’t believe I even do this shit.

My mind is racing in down time awaiting the opening of the main stage. I don’t feel good at all. Mentally my life in this moment is held together by a couple cameras and the promise of free water all day. I have the ability to go back to my car and smoke herb and get in the ac for a few which removed a shit ton of stress as I started to cool off. I think if it was a beautiful day my mind would find it easier to wander and maybe this day would be more painful mentally. Instead it’s physically grueling as temperatures near 95 before the humidity. And you know your boy was in all black too baby!

Atreyu haven't missed a beat since seeing them at the Shelter damn near 20 years ago. It makes sense how these guys are in such good shape as their running all around the stage and not taking any time to stand still. Their chaotic and melodic dueling vocals lead for a broad audience of metalheads who appreciate the rhythmic harmonies these incredible musicians create. And well, Porter McKnight is one of the wildest bass players in all of music with energy that really can’t be matched by many. If him and Steve from Every Time I Die had a bass-off our faces would melt. Atreyu bring the heavy and give us a show unlike any other on the lineup with guitar solos that shred and double bass rhythms to make your fucking chest cave in, this is what summer festivals are about my friends.

Circa Survive is a band that connects me to friends no longer on this planet. So to be able to photograph them for the 3rd time since Dec 2017 is an absolute privilege. Act Appalled into (2nd song) into Child of the Desert ending in absolute chaos and catharsis.

Releasing negative energy is what I associate with Circa Survive. Forever will they be a band of existential wonder that repairs the connections between loose and broken heart strings in my chest. It does not get better than this band or this music. I would be flat out lying if I said I wasn’t happy with sweating right now as it’s blending in with the crying. I’m literally soaking my fucking camera as I shoot this shit. And like that, I’m walking back up the steps. I left a massive part of me in that photo pit. I left it there to fade into the pavement and never be a part of me again. So much negativity gone. So much fucking animosity, gone. So much just fucking gone. To Circa Survive, thank you.

Now that I let go of a ton of emotional shit while my past partner of 7 years was sitting 25-30 rows behind me, sending me photos of me shooting and I’m realizing we’re both where we need to be. Apart. My back to her and her watching me from afar. In this moment I realize this is the absolute end of the line and we are both free to live the way we really want to. Now for gratitude… I adore the two women who help run media for 313 Presents. I feel for both of them as they have to sit out all day with us and suffer in this fucking humidity. Holy shit, how dare I say I’m moist as fuck, I hope that makes you feel weird. I am missing the breeze while waiting for Sum 41. The sweating continues. Don't give up your dreams of free ice water kids the ladies at the Arbor bar will hook you up. And for that I tipped her 5 bucks (and now know it should’ve been 10) and will be getting another after Sum 41 as proper hydration should always be important when festing.

Sum 41 is another band that I’m shooting for the third time today, others include Thrice, Circa Survive, and Four Year Strong. I know the level of showmanship is about to be through the roof. I should just ask a security guard for a water but I’m not about it at the moment as it seems they’re about to come out on stage.

This is the third time I’m photographing Thrice. Thrice times I’ve shot Thrice. This is weird. I’m high. I’m stinky. I’m soaked in sweat. All I keep thinking about is can I get a fucking towel before I shoot another fucking outdoor show this summer? Like a white towel that rappers would have on stage with em during this shit? I’m sure I’ll forget it like I consistently forget the bugspray and sun tan lotion and end up frying like an egg in a parking lot frying pan baby!

Thrice is using more smoke than I wish they were. Sure, some of the photos look super dreamy and artsy and that’s great but it creates so much noise and it seems like now the last three shows I’ve shot, the guys and gals running the fog machines have been a tad on the trigger happy side. Regardless, I’m able to hit the vape pen because of it, and elevate myself while watching one of the best bands of the last 20 years go the fuck off. Thrice could easily be headlining this show but more than anything I hope they made a ton of fans at this tour because outdoor ampitheatres are where they belong. Their sound is so fucking big it just feels right on huge stages with massive production. The more ethereal and moodier they go the bigger the stages would fit. Even the older music like “Under a Killing Moon” and “The Artist In The Ambulance” vibe so hard on these huge stages. Fuck I wish they would’ve played “Silhouette” that fucking song rips so fucking hard and Riley’s fucking drums are so fucking good live regardless of what they play, but man that first snare hit. BOP!!!

The Used and I have history. I dated a girl when I was about 19 from north of Detroit. She was something else, and so were her friends. One of which became my connection to this band. I won’t go into further detail as I don’t know everyone’s personal histories on the road and shit, I just know the shit I was told led me to understand we walked very similar paths of chaos and chemicals. I’ve been bonded to them for so long, it makes perfect sense that I would finally shoot them the first time I get to see them. Yeah even with that connection I never tried to go see them through those other people. It was something I almost avoided for a while too. I’m so fucking happy I waited as they are in such better shape mentally, physically, and overall health wise. This leads to what becomes such an unforgettable performance. They used the entire stage to rip through “Take It Away” then “The Bird And The Worm” and then “Listening” before I was making my last trek up the staircase to head back to my car and make the hour+ drive home.

The drive was almost as cathartic as the whole fucking day. The freeway was closed only a few miles down the road from the venue and I ended up taking Telegraph for an hour and a half back home. A nice doob cruise that helped me cap off a day of release, new experiences, meeting new people, and saying goodbye to old relationships. I could’ve gotten this post done in time to be relevant for marketing but once I got home I knew it was time for a break…

My personal life had done a 180 degree turn since early June and I had been dragging my knuckles on moving forward completely. I’m no longer with my cats. No longer at my condo. No longer with this person I’ve been with for almost seven years. It was massively important to me to make the time away from this, my time I took away from my day job, and being away from everything the reason I could go on much further. I thought a few days might do it. That turned into a week. And then two weeks. Then I woke up this morning the last day of Disrupt and felt like I could let go of it all. This is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. I could stop doing this. Put all my energy into being that guy the other person wants and try to get them back. I’ve done it before, and it literally led me back to the same exact conclusion. On my own.

2 years ago I started really pushing live photography. I started brainstorming about what the next website/blog/media outlet would be as at the time I was doing one called Shrbrt, which was just my own personal branded website. I knew I wanted to work with other contributors. I knew I wanted it to be snarky but also counter-snarky in title. I knew that it had to be nostalgic. I knew I had to not give a fuck. A few months later ILIKETHEIROLDSTUFF was born. Now, we’re ready to take it to the next level. A level that would never get encroached on if my personal life stayed in the shambles it was in. I can breathe again. I feel like my inspiration is coming back. I feel like my muse is now myself and not someone else. I feel like as much as I left at Disrupt on the floor of that photo pit, I took away so much new shit. So much new information. So much new intel on myself and who I want to be. See when people get shitty about music festivals and say “How could it change your life?” those fucking people don’t have a clue about the power of music. They don’t love it like we do. That’s what festivals are for. For people like that to have their mind open. I hope plenty understand how dope this shit can really be and how truly we are all spoiled musically to have so many choices and genres and artists and bands who want to create. Not just for us but for the sake of creating.

Disrupt your fucking life. Disrupt your way of thinking. Disrupt what you’re supposed to do. Disrupt the status quo.

Thanks for reading. Check out the multiple galleries below and give us a follow on our socials too! Here’s to next year!

PARKING LOT STAGE

AMPITHEATRE STAGE

www.instagram.com/iliketheiroldstuff www.instagram.com/sherburtphoto www.twitter.com/oldstuffmedia www.twitter.com/sherburtphoto weliketheiroldstuff.tumblr.com

[flauntpage]

Halftime Adjustment? Where the Orange and Black Sit at the Midway Point of the Season Following Flyers 6, Blues 3

While we are enduring the some of the coldest weather on record here in the Philadelphia area, the Flyers are heating up – for the past two games anyway.

Following yesterday’s 6-3 win over St. Louis, the Flyers scored six goals or more in consecutive games for the first time in nearly five years.

It’s been good enough hockey to get the Flyers out of last place in the Metropolitan Division (O.K., they are tied in points with the New York Islanders, but the Flyers have a game in hand, thus, they are ahead of New York. Only in the NHL is a tiebreaker based on something that hasn’t happened yet while in every other sport known to man is a tiebreaker based on results that have happened.)

Nevertheless, for this Flyers team, this is progress.

And it’s been fueled by excellent starts in each of the past two games, ambushing their opponents and dictating the style in which the game is to be played.

On Thursday, everyone assumed the Flyers were playing pissed off after such a dreadful and listless performance two nights earlier against Pittsburgh.

By Saturday, everyone saw it was a definitive change in style that was making a difference.

And it didn’t take long.

Tyrell Goulbourne, making his NHL debut, on his very first shift, was a bowling ball and the guys with the Blues note on their sweaters were the pins.

This included St. Louis captain – and Norris trophy candidate – Alex Pietrangelo who promptly turned over the puck when he saw Goulbourne coming for a big hit, allowing Scott Laughton to take the puck and score from a sharp angle to give the Flyers an early lead they never relinquished.

A great hit and an even better shot! http://pic.twitter.com/x4H6SSgl5d

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

Goulbourne said he was “scared” before his first NHL game. Keep doing things like that Tyrell and you’ll be using your special power of transference to instill fear instead of feel it yourself.

The Flyers continued to press and kept scoring.

They got an ass goal from Claude Giroux:

CLAUDE GIROUX BUTT GOAL! http://pic.twitter.com/UsoS3ns1y9

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

Jordan Weal made a sick move to beat a goalie:

Voracek gets it to Weal for a filthy finish! http://pic.twitter.com/VQ5SqlXIri

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

Sean Couturier scored his 20th:

Giroux with a gorgeous pass to Couturier for his 20th goal of the season! http://pic.twitter.com/fuAPzBPCZK

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

He’d later get his 21st on an empty netter – the eight shot attempt the Flyers had on an empty net that finally went in.

Oh, and Wayne Simmonds must have been playing Cards Against Humanity because he played the “Just the tip” card:

Just Wayne at work in his office. http://pic.twitter.com/ErHaeQi2qC

— NBC Sports Philadelphia (@NBCSPhilly) January 6, 2018

“It’s part of being a good home team,” Dave Hakstol said. “Having a little extra. Not just being good, not just being solid, but having that push to start a hockey game is what helps you establish a small advantage at home. We’ve been able to do that the last couple nights now. This is short lived. We can sit back and enjoy this for the next 30 minutes or so and then gotta park it. Gotta park it and move onto the next challenge which is here [today] at 1 o’clock.”

(Thanks for interrupting a Sunday afternoon NHL schedule makers).

Anyway, the offense looks good right now. Four lines are pretty much rolling. The third period was better than against New York, but still a little dicey as they gave up a goal 12 seconds into the period. Another later in the period and in between had one waved off and go unchallenged (surprisingly) by St. Louis on a play when the puck was in the net well before the whistle blew.

That would have made it a one-goal game and then it would have gotten really hairy.

But it never did. The Blues never got to within two. Brayden Schenn was invisible (how’s he looked since Jaden Schwartz’ injury, huh? Less than a half point per game in 13 games without Schwartz. He can’t create on his own, needs help, is mostly a power play specialist (although he has been better at even strength this season) and traditionally isn’t a clutch goal scorer, usually potting goals when the pressure isn’t as high (big leads, trailing by a few, etc.)

Not to mention, the first of the two first round picks the Flyers got for Schenn turned into Morgan Frost – who is leading the OHL in scoring this season. So, there’s that.

But today is the day the Flyers have to worry about.

They can’t get caught playing down to the level of their opponent. Buffalo is the worst team in the league. However, they were in town watching the Flyers game yesterday, so they’re rested. They beat the Flyers in their last meeting.

And, I can’t stress this enough – the Flyers are officially on their bye week as of 4 p.m. today and many of these guys have travel plans and want to get out of dodge. I’d bet many of them have flights tonight. It’s easy to get caught looking ahead to a break mentally and getting snookered by a team you expect to beat.

Not only that, but I think – THINK – Hakstol is finally going to give Brian Elliott a day off and start Michal Neuvirth. Elliott has started 16 consecutive games for the Flyers.

“[The last two games] we don’t wait to see how they are going to play or what they are going to do,” Giroux said. “We kind of play our game and it’s been working well for us. But we have had a couple good games and then we slack off a little bit on how we play. So we gotta keep this going.”

Despite all the ups and downs of the season, the Flyers find themselves at the halfway point just two points out of a playoff spot, which is pretty hard to believe considering a 10-game losing streak was included in that first half.

But it might be because of three players – Giroux, Couturier and Jake Voracek.

This isn’t to slight anyone else – Ivan Provorov has been excellent. Shayne Gostisbehere is third in the league in scoring for a defenseman and Elliott has done his job keeping the Flyers in games.

But this season has been and continues to be about the big three.

And while they might not be a line anymore, they’re still doing some really good things.

With his three points last night, Claude Giroux has 51 points through 41 games and ranks third in the NHL in scoring. He is on pace for 102 points, which, if he reaches that total, would not only be a career high but also make him the first Flyer since Eric Lindros in 1995-96 to crack the 100-point plateau and only the sixth player in franchise history to do so (Bobby Clarke, Bill Barber and Mark Recchi all did it twice, Lindros and Rick MacLeish were the others).

But more importantly, Giroux has been the Flyers best player in almost all phases of the game. If the Flyers were in a better position in the standings, the murmur would be that Giroux is a Hart Trophy candidate as MVP.

Consider what he’s done for Couturier as well.

That’s not to say Couturier wasn’t ready to break out and shouldn’t get credit for his season thus far, but playing with Giroux has elevated Couturier to new heights. He has 40 points in 41 games. The 40 points is a career high – and he’s still got half a season to go.

Couturier is finally in the Selke Award conversation as the best two-way forward in the NHL, where he belongs.

But would he be there without Giroux?

Voracek leads the NHL in assists with 41. Would he have that many without Giroux?

The Flyers captain is having a relatively obscure season from a national perspective. That’s a shame, because locally, we realize just how damn good he’s been playing.

A couple other notes about the pace these guys are on.

Voracek has 49 points in 41 games, so he’s on pace for 98 points, which of course would be a career high. If both he and Giroux can reach 100 points, they’d be the first teammates to do so in franchise history since Clarke and Barber in 1975-76 and the first teammates to do so in the NHL since Alex Ovechkin and Nicklas Backstrom in 2009-10 (which was also the last time more than one player in the entire league had more than 100 points).

Meanwhile, Voracek’s pace of an assist per game would have him finish with 82, which would be third-best in Flyers history. Clarke had 89 in each of 1974-75 and 1975-76. The next closest to those was Recchi getting 70 in 1992-93. Barring injury, Voracek should pass Recchi for sure.

Additionally, the trio combined are on pace for 280 points, which would be the most since Lindros, John LeClair and Rod Brind’Amour in 1995-96.

But as good as they’ve been, there have been some equally perplexing things going on with the Flyers.

Wayne Simmonds is on pace for a 50-point season, but he doesn’t seem to be his old self.

Travis Knoecny may have turned the corner since being moved to the top line because now he is not trying to do too much because of the players he is playing with and can utilize his skill set more effectively and efficiently.

The jury is still out on Jordan Weal, although he’s looked better of late.

Scott Laughton and Michael Raffl have turned into reliable depth forwards, although Raffl is being forced to play second line left wing because the Flyers don’t have another scorer there.

From there, the rest of the forward unit hasn’t been pretty.

Nolan Patrick will be fine, but his rookie season has been underwhelming. Taylor Leier hasn’t impressed his coaches and can’t get in the lineup now.

And the veterans – Valtteri Filppula, Dale Weise and Jori Lehtera remind me of these guys:

via GIPHY

On Defense, Provorov has been sensational. Gostisbehere has had some lapses, but overall has been what you’d expect. Robert Hagg and Andrew MacDonald have been steady. Radko Gudas is what he is – a third pair defenseman ��� on a team with too many third pair defensemen.

What I don’t get is Brandon Manning playing ahead of Travis Sanheim. More so, what I don’t get is how sitting Sanheim in the press box night after night is doing anything to develop his game. He’s supposed to be a huge part of this team’s future and yet he and I have had a bit of a ritual the past few games of meeting up to make hot chocolate at intermission at the press box snack bar to combat the frigid temperatures up in the rafters.

I don’t have a problem with Manning being your No. 7 guy. He’s a glue guy in the locker room. He’s a gritty player. He can fill in if needed and not kill you.

But I just don’t see his value playing ahead of Sanheim. I just don’t.

Look, even though the Flyers have clawed their way back to within two points of a playoff spot, by going 10-4-1 in their last 15 games, they pretty much have to do that again… and maybe even again if they want to be considered a real playoff possibility.

It’s doable. But it’s going to be tough – because they’ve put themselves in this position.

I’ll let the captain close it out from here:

“I can’t really say [the first half was] good because it’s not the position we want to be,” Giroux said. “But I think how we’ve been building as a team – how we got together and kind of played how we are playing now… We’ll see. We are playing well now and it’s easy to say we are playing well but I think we can definitely keep getting better.”

Halftime Adjustment? Where the Orange and Black Sit at the Midway Point of the Season Following Flyers 6, Blues 3 published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

[mystorymylifemywords]

In His....

In His Head

 What am I doing here?  I don’t belong here.  Why did I even get out of bed, put on this suit, and get into this car?  This is a waste of time.  She doesn’t give a good gotdamn about me, but my ass is sitting outside this church like a stooge to be a witness of something I shouldn’t be seeing.  

 She was a crush, that's all.  A life-long crush, but nothing else.  She likes to call herself a "friend," but she's nothing but an acquaintance.  She usually doesn’t give me the time of day, but I jumped at the chance to come to her wedding despite not wanting her to be happy.  Damn, that sounds contradictory.  How can she not give me the time of day and still find it within herself to invite me to her wedding?  What the hell am I doing here?

 I'm so in my head, right now.  Look at all these people.  They're smiling and happy for the couple and their forthcoming nuptials.  I'm trying not to show the pettiness I feel in my heart, thank God for sunglasses.  I know my eyes and facial expressions would be snitching on me.  

 I'm here for her and only her.  I don't know what's so special about this dude.  What does he have that I don't have?  Shit, that's a question I've asked myself my entire life.  I've always come second to my friends when it comes to women.  I've always been the other dude.  Women have always looked at my boys and been like, "What up, though!?" while looking over at me and quietly saying "Hi...." as if saying it too loud would attract a shocked reaction from the surrounding masses.  They would never say my name, either.  They probably didn't know it.   I was the nameless, faceless friend whom women tried to avoid or discretely acknowledge, like a homeless man panhandling for money.  I used to beat myself over that shit, I guess I'm still doing it.

 Alright, where am I going to sit and why don't I see anyone I know?  Is this some kind of joke? I'm always thinking someone is trying to play me. This girl always has so many people trying to be around her, you would think this place would be flooded with “her people,” but the turnout seems intimate.  There's no way she meant to invite me.  This had to be a mistake.  Everyone here looks like family or people who have grown up with him or her.  None of her partners from school are here, well, I see couple of her line sisters.  The only reason why I noticed them is from the pictures she's always posting on social media.  Her social media presence annoys the shit out of me.  She can say the most benign thing on social media and people who want her attention will "like" it just for an off chance that she engages them in a marginalized conversation.  Hell, I must not be any better than them.  I showed up at this wedding with my inner conscience believing I'm going to have a Dwayne Wayne moment.  “Please, baby! Please!”  Ha!  I'm so lame. I'm comparing my life to an early 90s sitcom.  She's no Whitley, though.  Jasmine Guy would probably say that's a good thing.  A Southern Belle she is not, but she sure does have her ego.  For all that, I'm no Dwayne.  He had a cool, nerdy, calm confidence about him.  I’m just awkward and shy, expect when it comes to video games and obscure literary and hip-hop figures.  Those are the only times I come out of my shell.  I still think Pharoahe Monch is the most underrated hip-hop artist of all-time.  He takes a little Melle Mel, a little Rakim, a little

 Grandmaster Kaz, and a lot of his own flavor to create lyrics that are existentially mind-blowing.  Dude said, “Lights flash, if I could only put the past on a flash drive...For peace of mind, install an external drive…So I’d be more driven internally to survive.”  That shit’s talking to me, right now, son.  I wish I could download my past and put it on some other shit so I can do some other shit because this shit right here is some bullshit.

 What was I thinking about, again?

 Oh, yeah, this damn girl and this inevitable wedding….

 The longest conversation we've had was right after I broke up with Jessica.  No lie, I honestly believed she only reached out to make herself feel better.  I don’t even know how she found out about the split.  I didn’t say shit to her, but she slid into my DMs asking if I was okay, if I wanted to talk, and gave me her number.  Instead of resisting, I gave in and made myself feel foolish for even thinking I was anything more than a boost to her self-confidence and self-esteem.  I was her charity case and she decided, after 20 plus years, to throw me a bone.  She texted me a few times over a couple weeks to see how I was doing, but I still looked at those messages as pity.  She would never engage when I responded.  It was like a chore to her and a fucked-up way to treat a person.

 Aside from that call, I’ve texted her to see how she’s doing, just attempting to be a decent human being while giving her a chance to save face.  The messages were typically met with deafening silence.  I had to delete her digits.  I can’t deal with flaky people.  No one deserves to be ignored.  It’s just rude.  Like, if you don’t want to talk to someone, be straight with them, and tell them!  When she did respond, she had the temerity to passive aggressively say we are only friends and only going to be friends. Don’t use a roundabout way of saying you aren’t interested!  I’ve known you weren’t interested since we met in high school!  Why the hell would things be any different, now?!  Nothing I’ve said to her showed anything aside friendship. I never said, “Hey, sweetheart! I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’m going to come scoop you so we can chill,” or asked her to send me suggestive pictures or attempted to engage in any conversation that even alluded to anything more than friendship. On top of that, you don’t respond to my fucking texts, so how can I get your ear for you to even think I want anything else?  She must think, since she’s so attractive, everyone wants her.  Yes, she’s very pretty girl, but fuck man!  A nigga is simply trying to make conversation, that’s all! All of this brings up my fear of rejection.  Going any further with her would simply do myself more harm and she invites me to this dog and pony show, but for what reason?  I don’t think she knows the meaning of friendship.  If she did, she wouldn’t use it to describe whatever this thing is we have between each other.  I hope this dude knows what he has coming.  All of this happened well before she allegedly met him.  I’m not the one to step on toes, so I always ask if the women whom appear to want to converse are talking to someone.  Maybe she took that as me seeing if the coast was clear to holla. That’s some simple Simon assumptions, shit…

 I gotta breathe, man….

 I’m running a full dialogue in my head and jump from telling a story to myself to screaming on her.  I need to calm down.  Seriously, why am I so angry?  I mean, really?  Why am I pissed?  Did she do anything to physically hurt me?  Nope.  Has my life moved on without her?  Yup. Hell, I have a lady of my own, but I’m up here thinking about his girl like she’s some goddess, like she’s Aphrodite from around the way and we’re in this holy place to praise Hymen while my mind is being controlled by Pothos and Eris.  I need to get a grip.  Plus, I know good in hell well that I would never scream on her like I do in head. It’s just so damn frustrating when you don’t understand a person’s actions.

 The ceremony is about to begin and I don't want dude to show up.  I don't even know the guy, but I don't like him.  Jealously is a helluva drug.  It makes you think irrational things like all that stuff that got me all riled up a few minutes ago.  He's probably a nice fella with a good family and whatnot, but he's going to get what I've wanted for years.  What did he do to get her?  Was it his confidence?  His job?  His personality?  Was is something shallow like his looks, the size of his Johnson, or his money?  I wouldn't put it past her.  She’s always had a type.  It was always some guy from the other side of the tracks, a "bad boy."  Those dudes were a joke.  I wonder how many of them stayed out of the system?  She was their arm candy, nothing more.  They paraded her around like a trophy and always kept her pockets padded.  She was only around them as payback to her father for being too controlling over her life.  He’s a hardworking man, and from what I’ve seen and heard, only wants the best for her and loves her, a lot.  You usually hear about these things when the father is absent, but he was always at the school functions and is still married to her mother.  It’s probably single-child syndrome, but I’m not close enough to her family to know the real story.  When you go behind the curtain, you see a lot of skeletons.  

 Man, I know way too much.  If the people in these church pews knew what I know, they would think I was stalking her, but when you want attention, people start to talk, and your business becomes everyone's business.  She was always fueled by attention while we were in school.  That's probably something that plagues the prettiest girls in all the schools across the globe who are also only-children.  It's like a superiority complex.  "I'm attractive and don’t have any siblings, so you should give me your attention when I want it."  When she's done with you or she bores of your conversation/company, she discards you like old rubbish.  You dance to her drum or you don't dance at all.  She lives in a solipsistic world and my dumb ass still wants a part of it.  Knowing me, I probably think I can fix her.

 Here she comes.  Her Pops is smiling from ear to ear and she looks breathtaking.  I need to leave.  I don’t want to watch this and I haven’t felt comfortable since I woke up.  My stomach is in knots.  You would think I’m the one jumping the broom.  I suppose this ceremony is the end of any possibilities of a future with her and she wanted me to witness the demise of something that never existed.  Damn, just damn!  I’m extra as hell.  People aren’t that conniving; at least I don’t think they’re that evil.  I can’t leave, though.  If I leave, now, people will turn and look to see who was so insolent to walk out in the middle of a wedding.  I’m a no-name, though.  People will forget I’m even here even if I stay.  I’m certain she won’t give damn.  She didn’t want me here from the start.

 I’m out….

  ​

In His Car

 I'm glad I got out there. I couldn't take seeing that shit. It was breaking my heart seeing her smile because I didn't cause it. I know that's selfish as fuck, but when you see your dream girl walking down the aisle and she isn't walking toward you, it fucks with your head. Shit, I don't think I've ever made her smile. It's whatever. I know I'm going to hear from her. I didn't do such a good job of leaving without being noticed. I know I said it wouldn't matter, but the attention shouldn't have been on me. People were whispering and everything as I got up. I hope I didn't cause some sort of scandal and ruin her day. I don't care if I ever talk to her again. She doesn't give a shit about me. I'm her charity. We did make eye contact as I was leaving, though. Fuck man! I'm all over the place with my emotions. I don't know what I want. Do I want her to care, or don't I? I should've stayed my ass at home....

 Now I'm back in my car and I need to figure out what I'm going to do now. I mean, aside from feeling like I shouldn't be at this wedding, I shouldn’t be in this area, period. I lied to my girl on the off chance something dramatic would happen and my fantasy would come true. She thinks I'm in Chicago for business. She doesn't pay too much attention to what I'm doing, though. Seriously, who drives from Philly to Chicago? I know I don't like planes and airports, but only a fool would make that drive, especially in his own car. It's sort of funny, too, that she would believe that story. She has ridiculous trust issues. That's the story of my life. I'm always falling for the girl with trust or daddy issues. It's bullshit, man! It's not my fault your father called you names and hurt your feelings when you were younger. It's not my fault he ran out on you and your mother because he didn't know how to handle his responsibilities. It's not my fault that dudes have cheated on you and put you down. Your past isn't my fault, but all those girls felt it necessary to take it out on me. I've never cheated on someone. I've come close a couple times, but my conscience is too strong and I'm too big of a believer in karma. What goes around comes around. I'm afraid I'm going to slip my dick in something and I catch something that can’t be cured, regardless of if I'm strapped up.

 I shouldn't stress about lying to her. She's been lying to me for months and I just let it go. They aren't even good lies, either. They're the type of lies to you tell when you're not even trying to lie, you just don't want to tell the truth. You know, those lies you would tell your mom when you had silverware or dishes in your room. You couldn’t give a shit, but telling the truth would take way more effort.

 Where the hell is my GPS?  Aww, damn!  This shit slipped under the passenger seat!  Argh!  That’s what I get for putting it behind the seat like a lazy ass and not disconnecting it and putting it in the glove box.  I don’t feel like getting out of car so now I need to do that uncomfortable lean and reach to grab it from under the seat cavity.  Each time I do it, I feel like my shoulder is going to pop out of the socket.  My shit is mad sore, afterwards.  I remember dropping a condom wrapper back there when I first bought the car.  My ex and I were breaking in the leather and I just threw the wrapper on the floor.  Unbeknownst to me, an air conditioner vent is under the seat.  When I turned on the air a few days later, I heard something rattling and it was the wrapper….

 I wonder how many people these long dialogues with themselves in their head.  I’m going on and on to myself, about myself.  I hope this normal.  It’s one of those things you don’t want to talk about because you don’t want other people to think you’re crazy.  It’s like asking someone about how they shower or bathe.  Once you find out someone’s technique, you won’t look at them the same.  I remember in elementary school, one of my friends said he sticks a bar of soap up his butt to kick it clean.  That sounds very questionable, right now.  Ha!

 Now what story was I telling myself before the thing got lost under the jawn?  Oh, yeah, my lying ass other half….

 She's always working, always. No matter what time of day, she's working. I'm not knocking her hustle, she should get her bread, but no one works all day and all night. She has this rule that she won't respond to my texts from 8-4. I don't want to get in the way of her work, so I respect her wishes. Here's the thing, she has two phones, a work phone and a personal. The work phone is a Blackberry. Who the hell still uses Blackberrys? What kind of cheap ass company still gives their employees obsolete technology? Her personal is an iPhone, so they have two distinct tones when texts are received. I should know because I had the same Blackberry, 3 years ago, and I currently have an iPhone. So, I took a random day off from work and she decided, unbeknownst to me, to work from home. She wanted to act surprised when I didn't leave the house. It's my house, witch! I'll do what I want! I don't need to explain why I took off from work. I'm a grown ass man who pays all the bills, even some of yours. Don't give me the side eye because I'm living my life in my own space. You could take your ass to your place, but as you say, "You have faster wifi and a more comfortable environment." Yeah, whatever. Anyway, tell me why that iPhone was going off, again and again and again!? I didn't realize which phone was going off for a few minutes, but it kept happening. I turned, looked at her, and gave her the "what the fuck" face. She just smiled at me, sheepishly. Yeah, you got caught doing dirt. That fucking phone goes off early in the morning, too. If you're in bed with me, who the hell is texting you? Don't text another dude in my bed, nigga. I need to catch her.  I had the idea of doing some Michael Weston, Burn Notice shit. I wanted to take her fingerprint off a glass with a piece of Scotch tape and then putting it over her phone when she gets up to go to the bathroom. The wild part, she takes that phone everywhere! Even in the middle of the night, she takes the phone with her. I know she's doing dirt because why would you need to your personal phone on you all the time, in the place that you call comfortable, but not your work phone? The work phone should be more important because you don’t want to miss an email or phone call.  I swear a heard the camera go off while she was in the bathroom. Light sleepers hear everything. This nigga was texting her pussy on my toilet and using my light.  I should’ve dropped her ass right then and there, but I didn’t have physical proof. I’m a paranoid type of dude.  I can’t let my paranoia win the day and unnecessarily cost me.  I guess that’s why I stay with her.  I fear myself….

 I better not sit in this car for too long. That service going to let out, soon. I don't want people coming over here and staring at me. I just don't have the energy to drive to the hotel. I don't get how this day was so draining. That’s a lie.  I do know why with my sensitive ass. I became too emotionally invested in something that was merely a pipe dream. I do that shit too much. I try to see the positive, see the possibilities, but reality gives me a knife-edged chop like Ric Flair, and then gives me a long, exaggerated, wide-eyed "Woooo!" Reality is constantly styling and

 profiling on me. I wish I could do the same thing, but my proverbial limousine is stuck in park and covered in bird shit. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I'm annoying myself with my pity party.

 I love how my thoughts get me off topic. My conscience has ADHD. Ha!  What was I thinking about? Oh, yeah, my "girlfriend."  Ha!  Even in my head I don’t say her name!  That’s how I refer to her when people ask.  I call her “the girlfriend.”  I use air quotes and everything.  That’s kind of disrespectful, but her crocodilian ass earned it.

 I should’ve left her ass when Karlos was killed in a car accident while on his way to visit me for a weekend. He was making the drive from our parents’ home and lost control of his car when he hit a patch of black ice on I-95 South, just outside of Philly. He never wore his seat belt, so he was thrown from the car, and shattered his neck and the base of his skull on impact. To say I was devastated would be an understatement. I think I cried for 2 weeks, but I was alone. She was traveling for work, but couldn't make time for me because she didn't know what to do. What kind of lame ass accuse is that? You're too busy fucking one of your co-workers, or whomever is texting you at 6am, to show any type of common human decency? Come on, now! What kind of person are you? I blocked that shit out, though. During that whole ordeal was when I came closest to cheating on her.

 At the funeral, I reconnected with Kenya, an old friend from high school. People were asking me about Keyna….

 Yeah, I said her name in my conscience, but it’s probably because after what happened, I was afraid of calling Keyna, Kenya, and ending up like John Wayne Bobbit.  Now that I think about it, Dad messed up one day and called one of Los’ girls by the wrong name.  He called Cristina, Kristin.  It would’ve been cool if Los didn’t date Kristin before Cristina came around.  On top of that, there was Crystal, Crystal, Krystal, and Christina.  Dad was always as nervous as a hooker in church when different girls would come through. He never was good with names, but luckily, she didn’t hear any of those conversations, so I didn’t have to share that I had a girlfriend.  Also, you would think your significant other would show up to the funeral of her boyfriend’s sibling, but she just a selfish person.  Shit, I should’ve dropped her ass after she said she wasn’t coming.

 It’s crazy how emotions get out of kilter when something tragic happens.  My brother just fucking died and for some reason, I needed to get my dick wet to get over it. Yeah, that's weird as hell, but men hold their emotions in certain ways. I guess I just wanted to be touched and held. I wanted someone to be there for me since my so-called girlfriend was too busy getting her hairy bush waxed by Keith or Cali or Brandon or Tim. I guess it was the moment when time, space, and opportunity met.  I’m glad that moment happened.  It was a real-life fantasy played out in front me.  I’ll never forget it.

 I shouldn’t call her an old friend.  Friend isn't the correct word to use to describe her. We weren't friends in high school. We were barely acquaintances.  Hell, when I found out who she was related to, I was surprised because I never made the connection. I was friendlier with her sister whom I didn't know was her sister. Honest to goodness, they didn't look alike, to me. One was cinnamon complexion with dark brown hair and kind of slim, while she was the color of almond milk, with freckles, body for days, and reddish-brown hair.  I also didn't remember seeing them in the same place at the same time. You would think sisters of the same age, like my brother and me, would be around each other, frequently.  Hell, the girl who I thought was her sister, same body type and same round face, was nothing but a self-created red herring.

 Years after we graduated, she asked my brother about my podcast.  She went to an after-school program with him, so they were relatively close. I never knew if he smashed.  My brother didn't talk about his women because, as he liked to say, "Niggas who talk on their dick don't let their dick talk." I guess he inherited that type of boorish conversing from our Dad.  When Dad tells stories about Mom from back in the day, he always says she was, “Built like a brick shithouse!”  After he lost his job as a chemist due to downsizing he laid this gem on me, “Fuck ’em and feed ‘em beans!”  I still don’t know what the hell that means.  My brother was a crass dude, just like Dad.  Damn, I miss you, bro. Mom and Dad are still going through it. He never could get on his feet. He jumped from job to job, but couldn't find something that held his attention. He loved to read and could go on and on about literature for hours and hours. He found zero use for his communications degree from Rutgers or his masters in communications from Villanova. He did have a serious passion for writing, though. Dude had some words, but he didn't know how to get into the industry. He has the same problem as me. He never thought he was good enough to be recognized by someone who mattered, so he kept his talent to himself. I would like to do a data transfer on his Mac and look at his collection of work, but I feel that's an invasion of privacy. He deserves to rest in peace. Plus, I don't want to find anything that would make me view him differently. Being only a year apart, so we did almost everything together, but everyone has their secrets. He deserves to keep his secrets secret.  Anyway, when he told me she asked, I was perplexed.  Why was she even thinking about me and who told her I had a podcast? It sounded like some stalker shit.

 Aww, shit! The wedding is letting out. I can't be here. I'm in my feelings, right now. I know my eyes are red, thinking about Karlos.  I’ve been on the verge of tears for I don’t know how long.  Let me peep my game in this mirror.  Yeah, I’m the vain motherfucker who moves his rearview mirror to look at himself.  I catch myself doing that on the road, sometimes. I need to cut it out before I get hurt, or worse. Yup, they're red and I haven't even been crying. Just the level of emotion I'm feeling right now has overcome me. My bro, this wedding, sneaking away from my lady.  What did Ron Burgundy say?  I’m in a glass cage of emotion!  Where are those damned sunglasses? Shit! Where the fuck did I put them?! I had them on my face when I got into the car. Where are they?! Calm down, dude, calm down. It's okay. Your heart is racing for no reason. Here they are, in the middle console. Let me jump on 95 and get to my hotel. I'm feeling like eating pancakes for some reason. Yo! I can go to Eggspectations! The one in Ellicott City isn't far at all! I'm going to tear those joints up! I glad I got my mind off the situation at hand but I know it will wander back while on the road. It always wanders back....

 I-95 is an interesting highway.  It literally hits every major city on the east coast.  Boston, New York, Philly, Baltimore, DC, and Miami. In 300 or 400 miles, you could see 3 of the 5 largest cities in the country without deviating off the beaten path.  That’s extremely cool.  Damn, I’m a nerd.  I’m up here thinking about cities on an Interstate.  Who does that?  Probably the same guy who can recite every lyric to every song ever released by Mos Def. I’m never going to call that dude Yasiin Bey.  It’s not on some disrespectful, Floyd Patterson not calling Muhammad Ali, Muhammad Ali, shit.  I just forget he changed his name.  That dude is so talented.  It’s messed up that he’s retiring, but that’s a selfish comment on my part.  Every man has the right to live his life in the way he best sees fit.  Do your thing Flacco Bey aka Pretty Dante, do your thing!  I wish he did more movies.  I use his sheepish line from Brown Sugar about champagne flutes, all the time.  That joint cracks me up!  I need to watch that movie when I get home.  Richard Lawson!  My divorce! HA!

 I think I was playing Mighty Mos on my podcast the day the girl reached out to me.  I’d forgotten she asked Los about it.  It caught me off-guard because we didn’t communicate, often. I still didn’t understand why was she thinking about me? My Facebook account was in its infancy, so I hadn't said much to anyone or had the chance to offend anyone with my sarcastic way of speaking. I'm so to myself, no one noticed me, at least that was my belief. I figured she was like those girls who acted like the wrath of God would come down on them for even looking my way. Anyway, I gave her the link to the site and eventually we started texting back and forth with a couple phone calls sprinkled in. I was the one who stopped responding. I moved away from North Jersey and left everything in my past behind. I was happy to see her familiar face that Cimmerian morning, though. For some reason, her face ingrained itself in my soul. It was like when Mike saw Alicia at Roland’s wedding in The Wood.  I was sort of struck by her, but not in the same way because we didn’t have much of a past. In the shadow of death, she provided the luciferous moment my soul needed.  She came over to me at the repass and we had a long conversation. There were tears, smiles, laughs, and moments of uncomfortable vulnerability.

 She came back to my parents’ house after the services were completed and we sat in the basement. Los and I always brought our girls to the basement, not to say Kenya was my girl or anything. When Dad was on his music kick, he soundproofed the walls so Mom couldn't hear all the noise he was making. I don't think he thought about the moans and screams from teenage and young adult girls he would be masking, too. Kenya and I sat in the basement and talked for hours, literally. I didn't sit next to her, though. I was beyond shaken by the events of the past week and I was feeling some type of way about her. I also knew my capabilities, despite having committed myself to someone. We talked about everything, our past, our outlook for the future, and, of course, Karlos. At one point, I saw tears roll down her French vanilla, freckled cheeks. I saw her cry earlier, but this was different. These tears were lonely.  They were calling me.  Her tears were the manifestation of withheld passion for the man in front of her as well as the pain of losing a friend.  She needed to be consoled, but I was afraid. I didn't know what to do. I didn't like to see her pretty face cry in such a stoic manner, one tear streaking down her cheeks while glistening in the ambient moonlight shining through the window, but hiding in the darkness.  I found myself slowly walking toward her with my right hand delicately, invitingly, and supportively reaching for her face.  I wiped her eyes with my hand and kissed on the forehead before I sat next to her. A strange feeling came over my body. I can’t quite describe it. I felt weightless, but weighed down. I felt happy, fulfilled, but empty and sad. I started to ask her questions about her body, but I couldn't believe what I was doing. It was like an out of body experience. I wanted to touch and feel her. I wanted to know how she tasted and how she smelled. I wanted her and she gave herself to me, but I stopped myself short of any intercourse. I couldn't bring myself to it. I felt guilty because I was committed to someone else. I didn't want that karma to hit me. Yes, I enjoyed seeing her extremely unique body. Her pierced D cup, tear drop breasts with freckled, pink areolas on her toasted banana cream skin made the blood rush to my organ. My tumid state clouded my judgment as I asked to see and touch her vagina. Her skin and lips were so smooth. She was wet and pulsating with excitement while her salty, sweet floral aroma lightly fragranced the room. I was in the throes of lust for a woman I had not seen in years. I wanted to be inside her. I need to release the passion and pain of the previous week....

 Hold on….

 Who is calling my phone?!

 Oh, shit....

  ​

On His Phone

 Wow!  She’s calling me?  She’s calling me, right now?  She picks today, of all days, to call me with all this stuff going through my head?!  I thought she hated my guts, but she’s hitting my phone, at this moment?!  This has been a wild day.  I’m not answering this call.  I remember when she left me hanging when I was trying to get at her when she randomly texted me a couple years after I left school.  I can’t deal with this shit, man.  I just can’t.  I’m not taking her call….

 Aye yo, why the fuck am I so frazzled!?  I’m about to eat some motherfucking delicious, buttermilk pancakes at Perkins and I’m cursing in my head like Samuel Motherfucking Jackson! That old ass nigga is crazy as shit. He’s a great actor, though.  I loved him as Jamal’s Dad in Ghostwriter, which still makes me crack up, and his role in The Long Kiss Goodnight with Geena Davis.  I wish I could meet him and ask him how he feels to cuss out a stupid ass white people who confuse him with other black actors who look nothing like him.  Those commercials he does with Spike Lee and Charles Barkley for Capital One during the NCAA Tournament are great, too.

 Sam Jackson got my thinking all sidetracked, I guess that’s a good thing.  I’ve been on a roll for the past several hours.  This phone call, though.  This phone call has me literally shaking my head.  If I was texting someone, S-M-H would be prevalent in my messages.  This girl was the first girl, well, nix that, the second girl whom I found very attractive and she could barely tolerate me. When I say tolerate, I mean it in the loosest sense of the word.  If this woman could've permanently scrubbed me from her vision and hearing, making me a silent shadow, she would've paid any amount of money to do so.  If this was the 1920s and 30s, she would’ve hired Murder Inc. to have me exterminated simply for being born.  What's worse?  I have no idea what I did to receive that reaction.  I guess my personality rubbed her the wrong way, which isn’t surprising or new.

 This is the most I’ve ever been this much into my thoughts. Usually, I don’t think, I just react, but I guess I need to wrap my brain around everything that’s going on. This isn’t too much, but a nigga is feeling a little emotional and all these random memories are being associated with current occurrences.  I wouldn’t have thought I would feel that uncomfortable at the wedding and would’ve been so into my feelings when I left the wedding or so angry when I started thinking about my sorry-ass girlfriend.  I need to calm down, but my inner self won’t shut the fuck up.  This usually only happens when my insomnia is wreaking havoc.  This shit just feels so fucking different and so odd.  I remember when things were simpler, like in college….

 I wasn’t a major player on Seton Hall's campus.  I put my headphones on, kept my head down, and went to class.  All those New York City niggas needed to be seen and show off, I wasn’t down with that shit.  There’s a part of my personality that’s no-nonsense.  Some shit just needs to get done without frills, like walking to class.  Those dudes didn’t get it, but they’re from a section of the country that couldn’t be any more different than where I grew up. Regardless, I don’t think that had anything to do with me not being a “big fish” at The Hall.

 I remember people used to call me, “Dude in the Falcons jacket” because I wore an Atlanta Falcons letterman's jacket, every winter and fall day for 4 years.  It was very distinguishable.  That shit makes me laugh.  There was a dude that we caught fucking our boy’s girl, at his apartment, on the bed he bought, that we called, “Dude in the red jacket.”  Who fucks, inside a house or apartment, and keeps his jacket on?! Did “Dude in the red jacket” think that was his sexual motif?  Did dude think he was an amateur Mr. Marcus and wearing his jacket was akin to Mr. Marcus never taking off his baseball cap and socks?  That nigga was a simp.  He also jumped out the window when he saw us.  Bitch ass couldn’t face the music when the music was at the got damn door. It took everything we had inside us not to jump his ass whenever we saw him on campus.  

 My thoughts keep getting sidetracked with randomness.  I’m starting to annoy, myself.  That’s probably why she couldn’t stand me. Shit, I don’t know, man.

 Since my class-going tableau never changed, it made sense to earn that moniker, and I hate I associate the nickname with the “Dude in the red jacket,” but that’s how my brain works.  Did just fucking use the word tableau in a sentence?  No one thinks or talks like that!  Who the fuck says tableau?  I’m seriously on my Carlton Banks, right now.  The nigga said “opt!”  OPT!  And endowment!  The only time I hear opt is when I’m declining some credit card shit and the only time I hear endowment is when I’m watching some fuck shit on PBS!  Why am I yelling in my head?!  I’m going crazy man!  These women are driving my fucking crazy.  I feel like Musiq Soulchild without the lazy eye.

 I lost my training of thought….Reflections Eternal….Mos Def & Talib Kweli….fuck, man….

 Where was I?  Oh, yeah….

 I used to walk across a parking lot next to one of the dorms, every day, while headed to class during my junior year. Later in the school year, I became friendly with a girl who saw me take that daily path. The first time I met her, which was at a mutual friend’s house party, she asked me a slightly creepy question that made me take a step back. She asked me what I was listening to on my way to class.  In my head, I was like, "Whoa! I barely know you and have never laid eyes on you until this moment. What kind of question is that? Are you stalking me?"  Yeah, I had a stalker while I was at school.  I had a couple, neither of them were cute.  One of them we called Rambo because she was always wearing camo bandanas and the other was called Snuffaluffagus because, well, she fucking looked like Snuffy from Sesame Street, but that's a story for another day. Anyway, my soon-to-be friend picked up on the immediate withdrawn look on my face and said she could see me from her room, in attempt to backtrack on the intrusive, but innocent question. I laughed it off when I noticed her need for me to accept the mea culpa. I told her I was listening to a mixed playlist of hip-hop and R&B on my Minidisc player. Our friendship blossomed after that moment while also becoming the genesis of the intimate relationship purgatory which would mold my early 20s and influence my 30s.  That’s another story, too….

 Now, that first girl who hated my guts. Dawg….

 During freshman year, I was completely lost, emotionally and mentally. I wouldn't say I was homesick. I was glad to be so far away from home. My Texas drawl became somewhat of a novelty act in North Jersey. Anyway, I spotted a tall, big chest, gorgeous woman talking to one of my boys.  Yeah, I'm the guy who takes women from his friends. Sue me. So, I see her talking to one of my boys and I say to myself, "Woo wee! She's finer than all outdoors! I would drink her bath water!" I was country as fuck, back then.  To say the woman was bad would be an understatement. As time progressed, this young lady became part of our ever-growing crew. We started as group of 5 and quickly grew to about 10, maxing out at 15 with a couple kats making cameos on a random basis. I wish some of those meddling motherfuckers never showed up. Getting back to the girl, I tried to talk to her, but at the time, I came off as extremely bougie and talked down to people. It wasn't on purpose. I was overcompensating from being a big fish in the little pond of Tyler, TX to being the type of fish you throw back because into the water because it's worthless. I was catfish in an ocean of Alaskan salmon.  Nah, let me check myself.  It was definitely on purpose.  I was a bitter, jealous, little nigga. I was trying to make my mark and failed, miserably. This girl picked up on my poor job of attempting to garner attention and put me in my place whenever she could. She would've pissed on the me if I was on fire on the side of the road, but she would have crapped on me, afterwards, to increase the embarrassment. That's how much she disliked me. After the school year, she was spent the summer riding the train with her father who was a conductor for Amtrak. I don't know why she called when they were on their way to Tyler, but she did and saw a completely side of me. Get this, she fell for me in 2 days. My demeanor was so different and so I was relaxed and cool, the kid landed the girl who was built like a brick shithouse! As in most college relationships, it didn't last. Big breasts lose their allure when the girl doesn't put out and you're tired of getting blue balls when you see her. It physically hurts to be 18 and horny.

 Getting back to the gist of the story, it was in the summer between my junior and senior year when I saw this young lady, who I think still wishes I would die a fiery death. My best friend's girlfriend was having a cookout at her mom's house in South Jersey. Straight up, my eyes popped out of my head like when Roger Rabbit saw Jessica for the first time. Ok, that was straight up hyperbole.  Truth, she was exotic to me because, and this is going to sound crazy, but it was the first time I saw freckles on a black woman of her complexion, in person.

 In Tyler, there aren't too many people who look like me and there aren't too many people who wanted to hang around an Indo-Jamaican, African American family, either. We were too different for the good folks in Tyler, plus they liked to say nigga more frequently than Michael Blackson at a Juneteenth celebration, so we kept to the small group of black folks in our neighborhood, most of whom have lived there since the Civil War.  All that being said, those freckles were sexy as hell.  On top of that, she was chesty, probably a D cup or larger.  In the years since beginning to attempt to guess breast or bra sizes, I've found I'm not as good as I once believed, which means I've always been wrong. It serves me right for sexualizing someone based off two lumps of fat they can't conceal without 10 feet of Ace bandages, a spool of duct tape, and a tutorial by Hilary Swank.

 Looking back, I know it wasn’t just the freckles that spread across her full cheeks like vanilla beans in ice cream.  It was the perfect imperfection of her big brown eyes, butter pecan skin, and chestnut brown hair that changed colors in light depending on the angle. Look at me being all poetic and shit.  Call me motherfucking Langston Hughes.  Nah, I’m more like Harper Stewart.  There I go, again….  Anyway, basically, I needed to get her attention, but was so got damn lost in the sauce, a nigga didn’t know what to say and didn’t want to rub her the wrong way. Shit, I was confident in myself and oratorical skills, but women fuck with my head without saying a word. Maybe it was all the weed I was smoking, but got damn….

 Listen to this shit, though, all the good vibes I was feeling when first saw her were dashed when she looked through me and tried to act like I wasn't present when we were introduced. I was Patrick fucking Swayze! I was a got damn ghost, dude! I’ve never felt so small.  When you run so hot and cold, as I’ve always run since I was little, that shit is so humbling.  I remember when I was 12, playing in the regional AAU championship basketball game at Carter HS in Dallas and nearly got kicked out for ripping off my jersey, throwing it to the ground, and going on an expletive-riddled tirade while stomping off the court after the ref called the third phantom foul on me in the first 5 minutes of the first half.  I was the best player on the team and that non-refereeing son-of-a bitch couldn’t get his shit straight.  My Mother had a fit and went chasing after me to cuss me out and tell me how I’m supposed to behave in high pressure situations.  I didn’t learn shit from that moment, but it’s a funny story.  

 Now, I was already behind the 8-ball and was in a silent panic because this was unfamiliar territory. The competitor in me needed to win this girl, but the shy kid in me was telling me to fall back. That was extremely confounding! In 2 minutes, I went from, "Yup, I got this!" to "Umm, hey, over here! I'm standing in front of you. Look at me!" to "Forget this girl and her bougie, pretentious way. She's not that cute, anyway!" to "But those freckles, though! Damn!" She had me twisted like a Keith Sweat song and all I could do is whine to my boys about getting played without saying a word about my intentions. It was the equivalent of getting fired on your day off.  It was a Friday, too.

 After that awkward, well awkward for me, interaction or non-interaction, the next time I saw her was at my best friend's 21st birthday party. I should’ve stopped drinking before his birthday because the elixir makes too much of myself.  Too much of myself makes me jump off the top of bunk beds, feet first, only fall halfway down and land on my face or request my boys “Call the cops, man, call the cops!” and go on and on sounding like a white boy from the valley saying, “I don’t want to die here, man!  I don’t want to die here!” and then throwing up my roommate’s bed because vodka and brown liquor don’t mix.  Anyway, I digress….

 I can’t believe I’ve been sitting in this Perkins parking lot, thinking to myself, while listening to my boy, DJ Caesar on Shade45 on SiriusXM. I remember when I tried to get at his girl while not knowing she was his girl.  He’s a good dude, though, and saw it was an honest mistake.  If I ever get married, I’m going to get him to DJ. He’s been a good friend over the past few years and I need to keep the good people around me.

 It’s funny, all my people are older than me. Our crew is at least 1 month and as many as 14 months older. I'm the baby, but I don't get treated like it. Let me take that back, I do get treated like the baby because I'm the one who gets picked on and teased ad nauseam. I'm the dude in Belly who shoots Sincere because Buns was cutting on him, in an earlier scene, expect I don't have a violent temper and the grilling and clowning never goes over the line. I guess that's a bad analogy. Let me think, if we were the cast of Saved by the Bell, I would be Screech. That's perfect!  I’m the smart nigga in the room with extreme nerd tendencies. Yeah, I’m Screech.

 I’m always trying to overcompensate for my shortcomings. My age has always been the largest amongst them. Being the youngest, I try to drink the most, smoke the most blunts, and be the most informed or smartest dude in the room. Shit, I got so high one night, I knew all the secrets of the world and I could touch the future.  That’s what I get for fucking with E Double’s gravity bong.  When you're young, you learn the hard way.

 Ok, so for my boy’s birthday party, my Dad brought me and my female, childhood friend to Newark from his apartment in Baltimore. People were so confused when I would go to Baltimore for spring break or on weekends. Trust me, I wasn't going back and forth from Tyler to Newark. I don't like to fly, I don't like taking my shoes off, and I like to travel with a bag of weed in my suitcase. The NSA would be all over my black ass for trying to pull a Nate Newton at BWI. Getting back to the story, my Dad dropped us off at our friend's house where the party would take place. As soon as I got there, I started drinking. I’m the dude who pre-games at 9am. I was feeling myself too much and was too stupid to eat anything before putting alcohol in my body. By the time the party was scheduled to start around 9pm, I was feeling good. I was waiting on the PYT with the freckles to show up but the liquor had other plans for my patience.  Why my ignorant ass didn't eat all day, I’ll never know.  When I decided it was a good idea to eat, my stomach gave me the finger. By 10pm, I was drinking Everclear straight from the bottle and smoking the worst rolled blunt in the history of blunts. There were big ass basketball players looking at me like I was crazy.

 When I get high, for some reason I think I’m a ladies man. I think I’m Leon Phelps without the afro, bellbottoms, and house boat. So, if an attractive woman enters the room, it doesn't matter if we've never met, I will try to get the digits and, hopefully, take her on trip to Space Mountain. Shout-out to the dude Ric Flair! I wish I could be a limousine riding, jet flying, kiss stealing, wheeling-dealing, son of a gun, but I don’t have that sort of charisma, which why I fail at getting my dick wet when I want to get my dick wet. I can fall into pussy, all day, every day.  When a nigga tries to get the draws, I end up masturbating in the shower while listening to Janet Jackson moan on Velvet Rope.

 Did I just shout-out Ric Flair in my head?  I’m really losing my mind, man.  Next thing you know, I’ll be at an Interstate rest stop, standing at a urinal, laughing, while my dick is in my hand.  That shit would get me arrested and I would end up at the psych ward of some hospital in rural Maryland.  I would have to sit my ass in there until they let me go on my own recognizance because I’ll be damned if I have to call someone and tell them I was arrested for laughing while holding a sexual body part in a public restroom.  I’m not going to be the black PeeWee Herman.  Fuck that.  That’s some shit a nigga does when he’s high.  I sound high, thinking to myself and jumping in and out of stories to myself, with my overthinking ass.

 Where was I?  Right….

 I didn’t think the mixture of weed and liquor would stop my pimp game, a nigga was wrong as hell!  I was talking to two women who thought I looked like Tek from The Real World, they must've been high and drunk, too, when the room started bouncing and spinning, simultaneously! I was cool until I sat down next to them.  As soon as my cheeks hit that couch, it felt like a bad acid trip, or what I would assume how a bad acid trip feels.  It's was the craziest experience, ever! Everything was moving in slow motion. I felt like Smokey from Friday after he was tricked into smoking Angel Dust. I felt stuff crawling on me and my skin was on fire. Then, my body decided it didn't like what was going on and my gag reflex kicked into full gear. In the middle of the conversation with the two women, I slid to the floor, and crawled to the bathroom. My boy was watching the entire thing and cleared a path. I was hugging the porcelain throne instead of motorboating D cups.  Did just make my second Friday reference in this thought?

 So, I missed the PYT because I had to drag my lightweight ass upstairs into the hallway to get out of the way.  I laid flat on my stomach, burping the foulest smelling shit known to man, and slipping in and out of consciousness. While I was up there, my people thought it was cute to have fun with me, so they were bringing girls upstairs to clown me and take photos. One of those girls sat her ass on me! Who does that?!  When I woke up the next morning, I wasn't allowed to drink the water because, per one of my friends, it smelled like pussy.

 I forgot about the PYT until the school year started. It’s dope how I can be out of sight, out of mind with some things, especially around Madden season.  When that game would come out, shit, you couldn’t pull me away from my PlayStation. I made so much money beating niggas by using glitches in the game.  My nerdiness came up strong in those moments.  I was also preoccupied with moving into our apartment.  

 My boys and I opted to rent an overpriced, on-campus apartment. If people knew how much that shit cost, they would’ve thought we were drug dealers. I guess that's the cost of convenience, but it was well worth it in the long run. To christen the new place, we had a small party with our closest friends. This was the night my best friend and I found out Lime Tosititos and peanut butter M&Ms were a fucking fantastic combination after smoking a bowl.

 This was also the night when the PYT first recognized my existence, granted it was because I wasn't wearing a shirt much of the time and my chicken chest was the center of all the jokes, which she instigated. Something was better than nothing, though. I was glad I was too high to retort with anything too biting. I find myself crossing the line when I can't think of anything funny on the spot and it's only cool to be mean when it's funny, which was a difficult lesson to learn. I was mean more often than funny, but on this night, the weed was telling me to calm down, be humble, and not blow the chance to see some drunken breasts in a few hours. When titties are involved, you better got damn listen to the weed!

 By the end of the night, the PYT was in my bed, but not with me. If I was telling this story aloud, this is when niggas would get hype.  They would think she smashed the homies, but nah, she was in the bed with two other girls.  All three of them were passed out, drunk, and fully clothed.  I was on the couch letting the weed and the Henny, which came after a couple unsuccessful rounds of truth, dare, or consequences, wear off. The perv in me wanted to jump in the bed with the 3 girls, butt ass naked, and start touching body parts.  I know that shit would land me in jail if they didn't consent, so I kept my shirtless, horny, slightly high, slightly drunk ass on the couch and watched reruns of the Golden Girls and Empty Nest on Lifetime.  If niggas knew I had thing for Blanche, the clowning would never end. They showed one of my favorite crossover episodes, that night.  Blanche showed up on Empty Nest and they did a sitcom version of Fatal Attraction. That was my shit!  I wonder if it’s on iTunes?

 It was a minute before I saw her, again. When I did see her, she was off limits. She didn't have a nigga or anything, but I had a lady, which was a mistake on my part. I shouldn't really diss my ex, but I’m talking to myself in my head, so it isn’t really a diss.  She was cute and had body for days, but she wasn't my type. She liked to watch HGTV, all got damn day, and I wanted to play video games and watch SportsCenter. Listen, her sheltered ass was first truly introduced to hip-hop when got to campus.  Her Pop was a doctor in Connecticut and kept his 3 sons and only daughter in the dark regarding a lot of life experiences, especially the nigga shit that everyone should know when they grow up.  I mean, she didn’t know putting a brick on the stove in the winter can heat the entire house for pennies on the dollar versus turning on the furnace.  She only knew Love & Basketball by the quarter breaks in the movie.  The nigga said she’s only watched to the 3rd quarter!  Who says that shit?  A sheltered as nigga from Bridgeport, CT, that who.  She never put water in the ketchup or soap bottles to get the last drop of your hard-earned money.  She didn’t know shit!  I grew up listening to UGK, the Geto Boys, DJ Screw, and needed to cut corners to save money at every turn. That’s not to say she’s not as black as me, that’s ignorant. She just didn’t have a wide range of experiences.  Her body made up for a lot of her shortcomings, though.  Her ass was rotund!  Plus, she let me do some weird shit I saw on TV.  HBO used to play this late-night show called “Shock Video.”  In one of episodes, two with big, floppy breasts, were seeing how many books they could under each titty!  Since the ex had perky E cups, I was curious as shit!  I didn’t have that many books, I didn’t read a damn thing back in the day, I wanted to see how many DVDs she could hold under each breast.  For the life of me, I can’t remember how many she held, but the shit was impressive.

 Moving on with the story I’m reciting to myself, that’s always going to be weird, when I saw the PYT, we were getting ready for my birthday party at my friend’s house, which meant a trip to liquor store. Being my 21st birthday, I was amped to legally buy alcohol. Since she was younger than me, I had to commit a felony and buy the liquor she wanted. Well, let me revise that comment. I wanted to buy the liquor she wanted so she would have a reason to talk to me. The shit didn't work! I bought her the fifth of Henny, which cost about $10, and was smart enough to say she needed to pay me back. I was trying to be slick because for her to pay me back meant she would have to see me again and actually speak. That shit blew up in my face! Not only did she never pay me back, she didn't even stay for the party! She was there for 5 minutes, then disappeared! She went fucking David Blaine on me! I was pissed to start the party because she bounced, which was before my girlfriend started kissing and rubbing on my boys when they started to arrive. The whole night was a disaster.

 The woman I willingly put my penis inside, with and without protection, started drunkenly molesting your closest friends at your own birthday party! I was mad, but happy at the same time. First, you just don't do that shit! You don't! I mean, flirting is one thing, and I can't be mad at that because I'm guilty of flirting with any woman who gives me the time of day, but touching and trying to kiss them on the mouth is something different. I had to pull her off a couple of my friends because she was getting too frisky. They were looking at me like a pimp who couldn't control his hoes. I was happy because she gave me an out. I could get out of the relationship with a valid reason and give the PYT 100% attention, which is what I wanted. Things became easier when the nigga fell through a closet door and pissed her pants. I left her big booty behind at my friend's house and carried myself home.

 The whole thing with breaking up with my girlfriend and hollering at the PYT played out differently than I anticipated because it sure as hell didn't work the way I wanted! I saw her outside of the student activity center, a couple weeks after the break up, and gave her my number. She never called and acted like she didn’t want the number.  She couldn’t even fake it.  Why am I laughing at myself, right now?  That shit is funny.  I was used to getting dissed or rejected, so I took it well.  Nah, nigga, you didn’t take it well.  You bitched to people about it, but made sure they didn’t have any contact with the crew because you didn’t want to be that crying, whining ass Keith Sweat-type nigga, again.  I was used to getting rejected, though.  One night, at a club in the Bronx, I was dancing with this girl.  Well, saying I was dancing with her is a stretch.  She was dancing and I was trying to catch the beat, which I failed to do.  This nigga patted me on the chest and told me she thinks I should stop and walked away! E Double was there and cracked the fuck up!  I couldn’t believe that shit!  Anyway, the PYT texted me, 2 years later, literally….

 For some reason, out the blue, she texted me and wanted to link up. I was floored because, again, I thought she wished me dead. Anyway, for the first time, she was engaging me, commenting on my posts on social media, and including me in some of her thoughts. I didn't know what the hell was happening. I didn't know if I should be happy to finally get to learn more about her or worried that I was getting played. This shit felt like a trap and I was too stupid to fall back.  Everything she was doing felt and sounded like some rebound type shit, except, I wasn’t Bill Russell, I couldn’t secure the board, and I knew it.  It didn’t take long before the engagement and

 the communication stopped.  The shit was stopped cold turkey, too.  One day, we were cool.  The next day, I couldn’t get a response.  A nigga was puzzled.  So, I did what any other guy in his mid-20s would do when a woman disses him without notice, I deleted her from Facebook.  Granted, I re-add her later, just to delete her, again, which became a cycle of mine during that age.  I thought deleting someone from social media meant deleting them from my life, but their impact resonated in my mind.  The what-ifs were too numerous and I was too immature to take rejection at face value. I took it personally when I should’ve taken it as a challenge to find the flaws within myself and make myself the type of person who can look those who don’t want me around and be unfazed by their convictions.

 I guess I didn’t learn my lesson.  That’s why I’m in the parking lot of this Perkins when I should be at a wedding reception.  Confusion and jealousy makes a man to do crazy things, so do freckles, a big chest, and cowardice.

 The real crazy part, I’ve always been more attracted to a woman’s intelligence, the way she thinks, how she interacts with others, and her grind to get what she wants.  I saw all of those things in her.  The cherry on top was outside package.  I was just too dumb not to initiate conversation about things I could gleam simply by seeing the activities she was involved.  I’m not saying I would’ve joined those groups, that’s some stalker shit. I’m saying, looking back at my early to mid-20s from my mid-30s, I could’ve used a completely different tactic like not being passive aggressive.  Nothing was stopping me from pulling her off to the side and privately introducing myself, letting know my general intentions, and trying to get to know her.  I didn’t and don’t know what was going on with her life.  I was too selfish to think about anyone else’s trials and tribulations.

 I need to call her back.  I owe her the respect of listening.  I wanted her to listen to me, but I didn’t have the balls to open my mouth. After all these years, she’s opening her mouth.  Initiating conversation with someone who is essentially a stranger is one of the toughest things to do in the world.  People will climb Mt. Everest, but won’t tell someone who means the world to them how they feel.  Emotions are a bitch, man.  I guess that’s why Nas made “Life’s A Bitch.”  Shoot your shot.

 Ok, now I’m mixing metaphors.  Let me get inside this restaurant, enjoy my pancakes, and people watch like how Pop taught me....

[spottedpear]

Character Profile -

Name: Eliane Nickname: Ellie Meaning of name: Early saint and martyr in Ancient times. Origin of name: French, Roman Age: 17 Sex: Female Blood type: AB- Nationality: French/English Ethnicity: French Race: Caucasian Sexual Orientation: Asexual Current status: Alive Political Party: Centre-Left Police/Criminal/Legal record: Nothing Socioeconomic level as a child: Middle class Socioeconomic level as an adult: Middle class Birth date: 14th September Birth place: Manchester Current residence: (unknown) Occupation: Student Title/Rank: Miss Hobbies/Pastimes: Painting, coding, writing, hockey Talents/Skills/Powers: Zinc Mimicry (can turn her body into zinc) Past History Hometown: Avignon First Memory: Her Dad reading her a story Most important childhood event that still affects him/her: Older brother going missing Why/How? One day her brother Alex disappeared and her parents wouldn’t tell her what happened to him. Alex was her best friend. Other memories/events that still affects him/her and why/how: When her best friend was being bullied and she stood by and did nothing (shameful, cowardly), and when said friend moved away (sad, angry). Past failures s/he would be embarrassed to have people know about and why: Failed 11th Grade, because she wasn’t able to get enough credits. Biggest role model: Alex, older brother by 3 years Why? He looked after her as a child and could do no wrong. Biggest disillusions from childhood: Her brother going missing Backstory: Eliane and her parents live in France, and Eliane still reels over the loss of her older brother Alex. Her father was a French businessman named Louis, who met her mother Jane (English banker) at a conference. Eliane’s little sister Katy goes to boarding school in England, and Eliane stays in France with her family. Physical Characteristics Height: 5′ 7′’ Weight: 185 lb Posture: A bit slouched Build: A bit round Skin: Has quite a bit of eczema on the arms but mostly fair Hair: Dark brown bob cut, straight Widow's peak? No Ears: Not very big Eyes: Brown, upturned Nose: Fairly big Mouth: Thin lips, usually chapped Face shape: Diamond Expressions: Often looks a bit grumpy, but mostly happy Describe their smile: Toothy, eyes light up Hands: Short fingers, short nails Feet: Size 8 US Tattoos/Scars? Has a burn from when she tried to make tea as a kid Glasses/Contacts? None Left/Right handed? Right Distinguishing features: Quite pale, thin lips Who does s/he take after; mother or father? Father Style (Elegant, shabby, etc): Casual- lots of hoodies and sweatpants How does s/he dress or what do they typically wear? Above, and high tops Other outfits one might find in their wardrobe: One nice dress which is navy and white Jewelry: None Other accessories: Watch Weapons: None Health: Good Hygiene: Forgets to brush teeth, but otherwise good Physical Flaws: Big nose, feels she’s too fat Physical Qualities: Girl next door look, quite cute Characteristics Are they generally balanced or clumsy? Balanced Mannerisms/Poses/Movement: Snaps fingers when something goes right Describe their walk: Strong, good stride Describe their fighting style: Attack mostly Habits/OCDs/Obsessions: Loves hair clips Speech Patterns: Can’t pronounce some words with “d” or “n” in them Unique phrases/words: “cool beans” Do they curse, and if so, to what extent? Yes, but not a lot Write a piece of dialogue that this character might say (can be between someone else): “Listen, I know this may seem weird but I just need to help you” Voice: Slightly high pitched Describe their laugh: A bubbling giggle Describe their sleep patterns (light/heavy sleeper, no sleep, sleeps too often, etc): Insomniac, heavy sleeper Describe their dwelling/house: 3 bedroom one story house, wooden Describe their bedroom: Pile of clothing off to the side, double bed, laptop on desk next to school books Describe their daily rituals: Puts on concealer, brushes hair Psychological/Personality Attributes and Attitudes Intelligence Level: Average, but is better at doing rather than thinking Known Languages: English, French Character's long-term goals/desires in life: To play hockey professionally Character's short-term goals/desires in life: To pass 12th Grade Secret desires: To find brother How self-confident is the character? Not very How do they see him/herself? A bumbling mess How do they believe s/he is perceived by others? See above What is the character most proud of? Hockey skills, art skills What does the character like least about themselves? Face How do they express themselves? Drawings, art, writing Is this character generally dominant or submissive? Either or, mostly sub Patience level: Low-Medium Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof? Emotion Most at ease when: Doing art things Ill at ease when: Doing logic things Describe their sense of humor: Animals, silly If granted one wish, what would it be? To find Alex Why? See backstory Character/Personality/Mental/Social Strengths: Conversationalist Character/Personality/Mental/Social Flaws: Self deprecating If they could be described with one of the seven virtues, which would it be? Humility If they could be described with one of the seven sins, which would it be? Sloth Biggest Vulnerability (non physical): Brother, family Optimist or Pessimist: Optimist Introvert or extrovert: Extrovert Greatest Fear: Darkness Other Fears/Insecurities/Phobias: Electrocution Emotional/psychological/social peculiarities: A bit grumbly Biggest regret: Not passing school Other regrets: Not finding Alex, not doing more work Biggest accomplishment: Captain of school hockey team Minor accomplishments: Art Club secretary, class president 9th grade Musical talents/instruments: None Character's darkest/deepest secret: She’s asexual Minor Secrets: Still misses Alex Likes/Dislikes Likes: Art, hanging out with friends, computers, hockey Dislikes: Cold weather, hot weather, being sick, not being able to do things she likes Favorite:  Color: Green Clothing: Grey hoodie Place: Art studio Room in the house and why: Study, computer in there Food/drinks: Salad, lemonade (carbonated) Music genre: Electronic Songs and Singers/Bands: Caravan Palace Movies/TV Shows/Performances: The Great British Bakeoff, High School Musical Actors/Performers: (none in universe) Book(s): Jane Eyre Historical figure: Frida Kahlo Subject in school: Art Animal: Piglet Least Favorite:  Clothing: Leggings, tight shirts Place: Supermarket Food: Sweet and Sour Soup Music genre: Country Subject in school: Maths Simple Pleasures: Art, Coding Greater Pleasures: Outdoors, Hockey, running around Where does this character like to hang out? At home Where is this character's dream place to live? London What sorts of books are most likely to be found on their shelves? Art books, inspirational books, adult colouring books Motto/Personal quote: “If you can’t beat them, join them” Mode of transportation: Pedal bicycle Most prized possession: Hockey MVP trophy Why? Greatest success in life Emotional Characteristics Describe character's sense of morals: Dodgy at best If they could sum up the meaning of life, what would they say?: To enjoy yourself What do they consider taboo (something they personally would never do): Crime Describe character's etiquette: Proper, but also quite relaxed Describe character's sense of self-control: Quite impulsive Spontaneous or structured? A mixture Instinctual or logical? Instinct How does this character act in public? Calm, chill How does this character act in privacy? Worried, nervous How does this character act around strangers vs. how they act around friends? Nice, goofy How does this character act around family? Calm How has this character most changed from youth? More knowledgeable How have they remained the same? Still miss brother Has this character dealt with the loss of someone they knew? Yes If so, who? Brother How has it affected them? Made them a bit less trusting, more worried How does this character deal with or react to: Conflict/Danger: Bystander, or goes on the attack Rejection: Wants to be by themselves Fear: Hides, goes on defense Change: Nervously Loss: Sadly and generally crying a lot Sex/Flirting: Disgust, uncomfortable Pain: A lot of yelling Stress: A lot of crying Peer pressure: Giving in Guilt: Crying Being wrong: Arguing Being criticized: Arguing Being insulted (superficially: name calling, etc): Glaring, making a comeback Offending others: Apologising half heartedly Praise: Smiling Being loved: Hugs, affection Being hated: Glaring, throwing shade Humiliation: Hiding and crying How does this character express? Anger: Words, sometimes actions Sadness: Needing to be alone Fear: Screaming, shaking Happiness/Excitement: Happy screaming, jumping up and down Love (Consider the "Five Languages of Love"): Quality Time Lust: n/a Stress/anxiety: Crying, venting Dislike (of a person, thing, or idea): Venting Approval (of a person, thing, or idea): Agreeing, giving a thumbs up How does this character generally express themselves? Words, art What does this character think/feel about?  Marriage: Living with a best friend? Okay! Children: Adoption please. No sex. Family/Family Values: Looking after family is the most important Children/Youth: Wow what idiots Old age: No thank you! Sex: nope Love: nope  Friendship/Other relationships: Come under family Homosexuality: Cool, not my bag but cool The opposite sex: A good time to be around The same sex: Either great people or horrible people Money/Material things: Useful Politics: Social issues are important to me Religion: I was raised Catholic but I don’t know right now Destiny/Duty: Ehhh Magic/Myth: Nope Racism/Races in general: PoC Lives Matter Science/Technology: Cool beans Nature/Animals: Cool as well! Gotta look after it Modernity: Good stuff Antiquity: Good in small doses Their past: Good Their future: Hopefully good Their role in society/job/etc: Hockey player Drugs and alcohol: Alright, never tried but seem okay Killing/Murder: Nope nope nope Education: Important but ehhh The foreign/unknown: I want to find out what it is How does the character view life? Good How does the character view death? Scary How does the character view society? A bit messy How does the character imagine his/her own death? They try not to What does the character want out of life? To be living to their full potential What does this character consider "success" to be? The best What would  the character like to change in his/her life? Their insecurities What motivates this character? Success, people they care about Why? Because doing things for others is good What discourages this character? Being hurt, criticism, worrying Why? Fear is really powerful What makes this character happy? Things/people they like Why? well What makes this character sad? Losing someone/thing. Why? well What makes this character angry? Things they don’t like Why? well What humiliates this character? Critique What most describes this character's personality? Chatty artist Psychoanalysis (Describe why they act the way they do): Out of fear or hope Does it stem from childhood or an event, or chemical? Because they were raised to be a good person Relationships with Others (Non-Married) Relationship Skills: Good, can sometimes accidentally insult Loves (non sexual): Good happy time Lusts: none Crushes: none Girlfriend/Boyfriend(s): none Other lover(s): none Marital status: none  First crush: none  Did it last? none Why or why not? she’s asexual Best Friends: Clarissa (internet friend), Annie (hockey team member) Friends: Hockey team, art club, various students around school Confident/Mentor: Parents Hates: This one girl who bullied her friend back in primary Dislikes: Anyone who doesn’t like her Rivals: none reeeally Pets: none What kind of person would s/he consider to be the perfect partner? a best friend Is the character judgmental of others and how so? can judge people for being a mean person, and tends to ignore them How is s/he perceived by... Strangers? Nice girl Friends? Bubbly personality Coworker/Colleague? Cool person Lovers? n/a What happens to change this perception if at all? She doesn’t like them Describe their sense of trust Wobbly, unless she likes them a lot What type of individuals does s/he like or associate with? Athletes, artists What type of individuals doesn't s/he like or associate with? Bullies How do they treat members of the opposite sex? Nicely How do they treat members of the same sex? Nicely What do family/friends like most about character? Nice person What do family/friends like least about character? Talkative Do they know anyone who's died, and if so who and how were they affected? n/a Sex/Romantic Life What do they consider to be a romantic setting/activity/date? What did they do on their first date? How does a normal date go for this character? How would they like to propose or be proposed to? Virgin? Describe his/her sex life: How often does this character have sex? How long can he/she go without sex? How does this character feel emotionally, after sex? Does this character have self control around individuals of their sexual desire? Describe: Does sex play an important role in their relationships, if so, how? Turn-ons: Turn-offs: Fetishes/Fantasies: Sexual peculiarities: Sexual perks: Sexual flaws: Usually on the top or bottom? Dominant or Submissive? Describe their first sexual experience: At what age? Was it planned/originally intended? Was it consensual? How did they feel emotionally, afterwards? How has this affected the character, if substantially at all? Have they ever impregnated someone, or been impregnated? If so... Whom? Was it planned? Was it consensual? Was it a successful pregnancy (did it live)? Did they keep, adopt, or abort the child and why? Did he/she stay with the child/family/partner, and why or why not? Have they ever had intercourse or a sexual experience with the same sex? With whom? Was it planned/originally intended? Was it consensual? How did they feel afterwards? Possible psychological reasons for their sexual fantasies or behavior: Family (they were raised with) Immediate family members and their ages: Jane (49), Louis (52), Katy (13) Ethnicity and/or species of the mother: English Ethnicity and/or species of the father: French Birth order: Middle child Extended family: None really right now Any important/infamous/famous ancestors, and if so, who? None Describe their ancestral history, if anything of particular note:  Birthparent(s): Are they still alive? Did they raise this character? If not, why not, and/or what happened? At what age was the character when this happened? What did they do for a living? Are they still together? If not, how, when and why did they separate? How did each parent treat the character, growing up? How does each parent treat the character now? What does each parent think of the character? What changes their opinion of the character, if at all, and how so? How did the character treat each of their parents growing up? How does the character treat each of their parents now? Caretaker(s) (if someone other than birthparents): What is their relationship to the character? Are they still alive? At what age did the caretakers begin to raise this character? Did the caretakers know the birth parents and if so, how was their relationship? Did the character know the birth parents? How did the father/caretaker1 treat the character? How did the mother/caretaker2 treat the character? How did the character treat their father/caretaker1? How did the character treat their mother/caretaker2? Siblings (if any): Are they still alive, if not who died and when? Describe how each one treats this character: Describe how this character treats each one of his siblings: Does this character still keep in contact with their siblings? How has this character's relationship changed with their siblings since childhood? How did s/he get along with the family as a whole? How did s/he get along with the siblings, if any? Describe their family life/dynamic, growing up: Describe their family life/dynamic now: Favorite parent: Why? Family (that they have created, if at all) Partner(s): Is this their first marriage/family? (if not, copy, paste, and answer these questions for the previous marriages/families too): How, why and when did they divorce/split? Was it mutual? If they had children, who kept them? If it was a death, what happened, and when? Did they get remarried, and if so to whom? How did the children, if any, respond to that? Are they legitimately married? If not, are the other characters aware of this? When did they get married? How did they meet? How did he propose, or how was she proposed to? Mistress(es)/Secret Lover(s)/ Lover(s) outside of marriage: Does the spouse/partner know? If so how and when did they find out? How did they react, and what was the end result? Any illegitimate children with them, and if so who? Does anyone know? If so, how and when did they find out? How did they react and what was the end result? Children and their ages: Who are each of their parents (ie: from which marriage, if any other)? Were any conceived/born out of wedlock, if so, which ones? How does (each) son/daughter treat of this character? How does this character treat (each) son/daughter? How does (each) son/daughter think of this character? How does this character think of (each) son/daughter? How does this character's relationship change with their child/children as they grew older? Spiritual Characteristics Religion: Does the character believe in a god or goddess? What are the character's spiritual beliefs? Is religion or spirituality an important part of this character's life? If so, what role does it play? Superstitions: Chinese Zodiac: Astrological Zodiac: Element: What If If this character were an animal, what would they be? Why? If this character were the opposite sex what would they . . . Do? Say? Feel? If this character were to be characterized by an object, what would it be? Why? What would/does this character do if confronted with someone identical in personality? What would/does happen if this character became physically handicapped, and how would that change them? What would/does this character do if spontaneously placed in a whole new and unfamiliar environment/country/planet/etc? If they don't already, what would this character do/act like if they had a child? Other What song best fits this character? If you could compare this character to an existing character, who would s/he be and why? If you could choose an actor for this character, who would it be? If you could choose a voice actor for this character, who would it be? Who/what was your character inspired by? How the Character is Involved in the Story Character's role in the story (main character? hero? Villain? etc): Scene where character first appears: Relationships with other characters: Where, how and when did s/he first interact with other characters: What was this character's life like before something, if anything, happened to change it all: How Character is different at the end of the novel from when the novel began: Background Story: Additional Notes on This Character:

[flauntpage]

Halftime Adjustment? Where the Orange and Black Sit at the Midway Point of the Season Following Flyers 6, Blues 3

While we are enduring the some of the coldest weather on record here in the Philadelphia area, the Flyers are heating up – for the past two games anyway.

Following yesterday’s 6-3 win over St. Louis, the Flyers scored six goals or more in consecutive games for the first time in nearly five years.

It’s been good enough hockey to get the Flyers out of last place in the Metropolitan Division (O.K., they are tied in points with the New York Islanders, but the Flyers have a game in hand, thus, they are ahead of New York. Only in the NHL is a tiebreaker based on something that hasn’t happened yet while in every other sport known to man is a tiebreaker based on results that have happened.)

Nevertheless, for this Flyers team, this is progress.

And it’s been fueled by excellent starts in each of the past two games, ambushing their opponents and dictating the style in which the game is to be played.

On Thursday, everyone assumed the Flyers were playing pissed off after such a dreadful and listless performance two nights earlier against Pittsburgh.

By Saturday, everyone saw it was a definitive change in style that was making a difference.

And it didn’t take long.

Tyrell Goulbourne, making his NHL debut, on his very first shift, was a bowling ball and the guys with the Blues note on their sweaters were the pins.

This included St. Louis captain – and Norris trophy candidate – Alex Pietrangelo who promptly turned over the puck when he saw Goulbourne coming for a big hit, allowing Scott Laughton to take the puck and score from a sharp angle to give the Flyers an early lead they never relinquished.

A great hit and an even better shot! http://pic.twitter.com/x4H6SSgl5d

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

Goulbourne said he was “scared” before his first NHL game. Keep doing things like that Tyrell and you’ll be using your special power of transference to instill fear instead of feel it yourself.

The Flyers continued to press and kept scoring.

They got an ass goal from Claude Giroux:

CLAUDE GIROUX BUTT GOAL! http://pic.twitter.com/UsoS3ns1y9

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

Jordan Weal made a sick move to beat a goalie:

Voracek gets it to Weal for a filthy finish! http://pic.twitter.com/VQ5SqlXIri

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

Sean Couturier scored his 20th:

Giroux with a gorgeous pass to Couturier for his 20th goal of the season! http://pic.twitter.com/fuAPzBPCZK

— Sons of Penn (@SonsofPenn) January 6, 2018

He’d later get his 21st on an empty netter – the eight shot attempt the Flyers had on an empty net that finally went in.

Oh, and Wayne Simmonds must have been playing Cards Against Humanity because he played the “Just the tip” card:

Just Wayne at work in his office. http://pic.twitter.com/ErHaeQi2qC

— NBC Sports Philadelphia (@NBCSPhilly) January 6, 2018

“It’s part of being a good home team,” Dave Hakstol said. “Having a little extra. Not just being good, not just being solid, but having that push to start a hockey game is what helps you establish a small advantage at home. We’ve been able to do that the last couple nights now. This is short lived. We can sit back and enjoy this for the next 30 minutes or so and then gotta park it. Gotta park it and move onto the next challenge which is here [today] at 1 o’clock.”

(Thanks for interrupting a Sunday afternoon NHL schedule makers).

Anyway, the offense looks good right now. Four lines are pretty much rolling. The third period was better than against New York, but still a little dicey as they gave up a goal 12 seconds into the period. Another later in the period and in between had one waved off and go unchallenged (surprisingly) by St. Louis on a play when the puck was in the net well before the whistle blew.

That would have made it a one-goal game and then it would have gotten really hairy.

But it never did. The Blues never got to within two. Brayden Schenn was invisible (how’s he looked since Jaden Schwartz’ injury, huh? Less than a half point per game in 13 games without Schwartz. He can’t create on his own, needs help, is mostly a power play specialist (although he has been better at even strength this season) and traditionally isn’t a clutch goal scorer, usually potting goals when the pressure isn’t as high (big leads, trailing by a few, etc.)

Not to mention, the first of the two first round picks the Flyers got for Schenn turned into Morgan Frost – who is leading the OHL in scoring this season. So, there’s that.

But today is the day the Flyers have to worry about.

They can’t get caught playing down to the level of their opponent. Buffalo is the worst team in the league. However, they were in town watching the Flyers game yesterday, so they’re rested. They beat the Flyers in their last meeting.

And, I can’t stress this enough – the Flyers are officially on their bye week as of 4 p.m. today and many of these guys have travel plans and want to get out of dodge. I’d bet many of them have flights tonight. It’s easy to get caught looking ahead to a break mentally and getting snookered by a team you expect to beat.

Not only that, but I think – THINK – Hakstol is finally going to give Brian Elliott a day off and start Michal Neuvirth. Elliott has started 16 consecutive games for the Flyers.

“[The last two games] we don’t wait to see how they are going to play or what they are going to do,” Giroux said. “We kind of play our game and it’s been working well for us. But we have had a couple good games and then we slack off a little bit on how we play. So we gotta keep this going.”

Despite all the ups and downs of the season, the Flyers find themselves at the halfway point just two points out of a playoff spot, which is pretty hard to believe considering a 10-game losing streak was included in that first half.

But it might be because of three players – Giroux, Couturier and Jake Voracek.

This isn’t to slight anyone else – Ivan Provorov has been excellent. Shayne Gostisbehere is third in the league in scoring for a defenseman and Elliott has done his job keeping the Flyers in games.

But this season has been and continues to be about the big three.

And while they might not be a line anymore, they’re still doing some really good things.

With his three points last night, Claude Giroux has 51 points through 41 games and ranks third in the NHL in scoring. He is on pace for 102 points, which, if he reaches that total, would not only be a career high but also make him the first Flyer since Eric Lindros in 1995-96 to crack the 100-point plateau and only the sixth player in franchise history to do so (Bobby Clarke, Bill Barber and Mark Recchi all did it twice, Lindros and Rick MacLeish were the others).

But more importantly, Giroux has been the Flyers best player in almost all phases of the game. If the Flyers were in a better position in the standings, the murmur would be that Giroux is a Hart Trophy candidate as MVP.

Consider what he’s done for Couturier as well.

That’s not to say Couturier wasn’t ready to break out and shouldn’t get credit for his season thus far, but playing with Giroux has elevated Couturier to new heights. He has 40 points in 41 games. The 40 points is a career high – and he’s still got half a season to go.

Couturier is finally in the Selke Award conversation as the best two-way forward in the NHL, where he belongs.

But would he be there without Giroux?

Voracek leads the NHL in assists with 41. Would he have that many without Giroux?

The Flyers captain is having a relatively obscure season from a national perspective. That’s a shame, because locally, we realize just how damn good he’s been playing.

A couple other notes about the pace these guys are on.

Voracek has 49 points in 41 games, so he’s on pace for 98 points, which of course would be a career high. If both he and Giroux can reach 100 points, they’d be the first teammates to do so in franchise history since Clarke and Barber in 1975-76 and the first teammates to do so in the NHL since Alex Ovechkin and Nicklas Backstrom in 2009-10 (which was also the last time more than one player in the entire league had more than 100 points).

Meanwhile, Voracek’s pace of an assist per game would have him finish with 82, which would be third-best in Flyers history. Clarke had 89 in each of 1974-75 and 1975-76. The next closest to those was Recchi getting 70 in 1992-93. Barring injury, Voracek should pass Recchi for sure.

Additionally, the trio combined are on pace for 280 points, which would be the most since Lindros, John LeClair and Rod Brind’Amour in 1995-96.

But as good as they’ve been, there have been some equally perplexing things going on with the Flyers.

Wayne Simmonds is on pace for a 50-point season, but he doesn’t seem to be his old self.

Travis Knoecny may have turned the corner since being moved to the top line because now he is not trying to do too much because of the players he is playing with and can utilize his skill set more effectively and efficiently.

The jury is still out on Jordan Weal, although he’s looked better of late.

Scott Laughton and Michael Raffl have turned into reliable depth forwards, although Raffl is being forced to play second line left wing because the Flyers don’t have another scorer there.

From there, the rest of the forward unit hasn’t been pretty.

Nolan Patrick will be fine, but his rookie season has been underwhelming. Taylor Leier hasn’t impressed his coaches and can’t get in the lineup now.

And the veterans – Valtteri Filppula, Dale Weise and Jori Lehtera remind me of these guys:

via GIPHY

On Defense, Provorov has been sensational. Gostisbehere has had some lapses, but overall has been what you’d expect. Robert Hagg and Andrew MacDonald have been steady. Radko Gudas is what he is – a third pair defenseman – on a team with too many third pair defensemen.

What I don’t get is Brandon Manning playing ahead of Travis Sanheim. More so, what I don’t get is how sitting Sanheim in the press box night after night is doing anything to develop his game. He’s supposed to be a huge part of this team’s future and yet he and I have had a bit of a ritual the past few games of meeting up to make hot chocolate at intermission at the press box snack bar to combat the frigid temperatures up in the rafters.

I don’t have a problem with Manning being your No. 7 guy. He’s a glue guy in the locker room. He’s a gritty player. He can fill in if needed and not kill you.

But I just don’t see his value playing ahead of Sanheim. I just don’t.

Look, even though the Flyers have clawed their way back to within two points of a playoff spot, by going 10-4-1 in their last 15 games, they pretty much have to do that again… and maybe even again if they want to be considered a real playoff possibility.

It’s doable. But it’s going to be tough – because they’ve put themselves in this position.

I’ll let the captain close it out from here:

“I can’t really say [the first half was] good because it’s not the position we want to be,” Giroux said. “But I think how we’ve been building as a team – how we got together and kind of played how we are playing now… We’ll see. We are playing well now and it’s easy to say we are playing well but I think we can definitely keep getting better.”

Halftime Adjustment? Where the Orange and Black Sit at the Midway Point of the Season Following Flyers 6, Blues 3 published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv