#None of my friends go to homecoming. We don't want to go to a dance where we're reminded of how poor we are

[audioandart]

was in economics class and was just flabbergasted at the fact that, while discussing the environment, the fact I even mentioned "maybe things don't need to be human centric" (we were talking about should land be set aside for protection of nature and whatnot.) People got so upset? And started laughing and snickering at me? like, I wasn't even the only person who was saying to protect the environment, I was just the only person to word it like that. People were discussing that as humans, since we're at the top, it's our responsibility to protect the creatures lower than us on the food chain. But apparently mentioning that maybe things don't even need to be focused on us is fucking taboo? And the teacher was like so surprised I said that, like her whole tone shifted for a moment like "damn wasn't expecting that". She didn't seem upset just genuinely out of her element for a moment. Like I'm not trying to brag and seem all "oh I'm a saint because I care just so much about nature yada yada" I'm pissed! I'm pissed off that humanity has this idea, that we are at the top and we do what we want and we have the right! SOME OF THESE CREATURES HAVE BEEN HERE FAR LONGER THEN WE HAVE. THE COCKROACHES ARE GOING TO OUT LIVE US. Show them some damn respect. Because I know we aren't born like this. I know we're born with kindness, with hope, with the desire to help others. We're taught to think we're always at the top. People are made fun of for not wanting to step on bugs, people are teased for caring enough to not want to rip plants to shreds. You know that phase every kid seems to go through where they like rip leaves off trees, maybe for fake soup or whatever? Well my brother is out of that phase now but still went to rip some leaves off a tree as we walked past and when I mentioned he shouldn't do that cause it'd hurt the tree he got all offended. My tone was polite and whatnot, on god!!! I'm just so disappointed in this view that we're better and we do what we want

the “humans are inherently selfish” fanclub can genuinely and in all honesty go to hell. i once came back from a school yard where the kids had heaped piles of leaves and cut wildflowers on a narrow strip of grass bc a bee had died. i actually want to cry.

[abadbitchblogs]

SOS

Part 1

Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: Ya girl is alive y’all! I wanted to revamp this because I felt like y'all deserved more! Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my work. I love y'all!  All likes, comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!

-divider by @cafekitsune

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as the entire roster hooped and hollered in  celebration of Trin’s return at the Royal Rumble. While shots, champagne and cocktails were being thrown back, all Amirah could do was watch the way her best friend humbly received the love she deserved with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. It was such a full circle moment for her; comforting Trinity when leaving the company broke her, supporting her decision to join Impact! Wrestling, then experiencing the reception of her homecoming. Watching her fall back into the swing of things like she never left felt so satisfying. Before she could spiral into an emotional breakdown, a large hand waving in her face snapped her out of her thoughts making her scrunch her nose in confusion. “Aye, girl! You good?” Jimmy’s furrowed brows and jutted out bottom lip came into focus, immediately coaxing a laugh out of her. Jimmy was one person that you could count on to lift your spirits without even trying- he was the textbook definition of goofy.

“I'm good, promise!” If he doubted she was telling the truth, the content glimmer in her eyes deterred him from pressing the matter any further. Instead, she looped her arm with his and dragged him back over to their friends where they could enjoy their night out. Plopping down on the sectional next to Trinity, the group of superstars fell into easy conversation catching up with those who are on a different brand as they only see each other during the major PLEs. Somehow the chat turned into the couples pestering the single people; i.e Bayley and Amirah. Bay may have fought to defend herself, but she just found their concern amusing. “Listen. I don't treat being single like a punishment. I love being by myself. I aint gotta worry about nobody cheating on me, nobody resenting me for my career or trying to police my body.” No lies were detected as they all had no choice but to agree. Relationships in their business were hard whether you were with a fellow pro wrestler or a regular person. “Besides, the chances of finding real love like y’all are slim as hell!”

“I know that's right!” Bianca gloated; her and Montez’s reality show was doing so well that they were WWE’s IT couple. Mirah playfully chucked a straw at their girlfriend while Trin, Bay, and Jade were too busy laughing at her EST antics surfacing outside of the ring. “ What about you and Damian? I be seeing y’all posted up looking cozy?” The question got a chorus of ‘oooohs’ from the women, but Bayley  made a face of disgust at her friends’ insinuation. “Girl no. We're just good friends. That man doesn't have a committal bone in his body.” Amirah hummed in affirmation having heard the rumors about Damian Priest and his revolving door of women. “I'm honestly surprised that the two of you aren’t close. He's from New York, you're from New York. He's single and you've sworn off relationships. And I know you like them a little older.” The woman’s jaw dropped at Bayley’s insane attempt at matchmaking. “Girl are you trying to set me up with a sneaky link?” That sent all of the women into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. “You do need some dick.” Trin wheezed out, furthering Amirah’s appalled facial expression before she swatted her best friend’s arm. “You know what? I’m out of here.” A laugh bubbled out of her as she stood dramatically from their huddle only to turn and lock eyes with Jey Uso.

There he was hugging his twin with his chocolate orbs boring into her chestnut ones. Spinning on her heel,  she suggested the girls go down to the dance floor for a song or two. “Come on y'all. We can't let this night pass without shaking a lil something.” Clasping Trinity’s hands, she pulled her to her feet then tugged her towards the stairs with a “We’re going downstairs to dance for a little bit, Jim,” thrown over her shoulder. They scurried by without waiting for a response although she knew Jimmy and Montez were going to follow them anyway to keep an eye on the group. One of the things that Amirah and Trinity bonded over was their love of music and dance with both of them being former dancers. As much as Jimmy hated it when Trin showed her ass, he was going to have to suck it up tonight because they were owed some time to let loose. All that is holy must've been on their side because as soon as they made it to the center of the dancefloor, Twerk by the City Girls and Cardi B blared on the speakers. “Come on, Trin! Lemme see something!” It was always fun to get Trin and Bianca to cut up because Trin was going to kill it every time but Bianca had no damn rhythm. The club was playing banger after banger after banger after banger. If they weren't professional athletes, their feet and edges would be shot to hell. Amirah was throwing her ass back on Trinity, both of them cackling at Jade and Bayley trying to show B how to catch the beat when the tempo slowed to a ballad.  Of course it was a song that a nigga always dedicated to her to make her feel special and now it pissed her off.

This is for you, you, my number one This is for you, you, my number one Oh, yeah, yeah-yeah This is for you, you, my number one

Sucking her teeth as Jimmy giddily cut in for a slow dance with his wife, Mirah cut through the crowd to head back to their section for another drink when she bumped into the only person she did not want to see. His grills seemed to glow in the low light of the club but before he could get a word out, she took a sharp left in search of the restroom. A wave of nausea crawled through her body and she needed to gather herself after coming in contact with that parasite. Just when her hand grasped the doorknob of the ladies room for a moment of solitude, a large hand engulfed her other wrist pausing her movements. “Mirah…” She didn’t even need to turn around to know who the trifling ass voice belonged to. Calmly snatching her wrist from his hold, she shifted her weight to one foot with a snarl etched on her gloss coated lips. “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” Jey’s eyes softened at her faux confusion as he took a step toward her and her, taking a step back to keep space between them. “Mirah, come on. I just wanna talk to you. I wanna explain myself.” His pleading only made the bile in her throat rise, making her face twist in disgust. 

“Nigga, you should’ve thought about talking to me before you just cut me off like I was some random bitch.” Her words dripped with malice in hope of it being enough to get him to leave her alone. “We ain’t got shit to talk about as far as I’m concerned.” Shoulder checking him as she walked by, not even wanting to be in the same building as him, Jey fought the urge to reach out to her again. He knew getting her to talk to him would be near impossible, but he was determined. Amirah was worth taking accountability and uncomfortable conversations. 

Amirah shuffled through the sea of bodies on the dance floor to find her friends and wish them a goodnight. Trinity spotted the agitated look on her best friend’s face immediately even though she tried to plaster a smile over it. “What happened, boo?” Trin’s brows furrowed in worry only to have Mirah wave it off. “Nothing! I’m good. I’m just going to call it night. That liquor ain’t sitting right in my stomach.” The lie came out faster than she could even register, but it wasn’t a total lie. That bastard did indeed make her sick to her stomach. “Oh okay! We’ll go back with you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.” Gesturing for Jimmy to come over to the two of them, Amirah shook her head in protest. “Hell no. You stay and keep celebrating. You deserve it! I’ll be fine! I already called an Uber and I’ll text you when I’m back in my room.” Pulling her bestie into a tight embrace, she gave her a fat kiss on the cheek before moving to hug their group of friends goodbye. Much to her delight, no one questioned her sudden decline of health too much, just the request of a text message to let them know when she got back to the hotel. With a promise that she would text them as soon as she got in, Mirah flew to the exit of the club like a bat out of hell. 

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, the feeling of relief washed over her soothing the queasiness that plagued her. The Florida streets were surprisingly peaceful at night, allowing her to fully collect herself and actually call an Uber so she just wasn’t standing outside of the club like a lame. As she pulled her phone out of her black purse, the club’s doors opened once more flooding the silence with music. A tap on her shoulder made her slap a friendly smile on her face in case it was a fan wanting an autograph or a picture. But, it was neither and her smile morphed into one of shock when she came face to face with Señor Money in the Bank. Damian was dark and broody so she did not expect to see him at a nightclub, but if his reputation precedes him then he was here for a woman- or two. “Señor Money in the Bank. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wiping the shock off her face, she mirrored his playful and dare she say- flirty smirk. “Well I was by the bar when I saw you rush out so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Feigning surprise, Amirah placed a hand over her heart and cooed at his sweet gesture. “Wait until everyone finds out that Señor Playboy is a gentleman.”

Her teasing pulled a chuckle out of him as he cocked a brow in question. “Playboy huh?” “Mhmm I’ve heard about you.” Laughing once more, Damian accepted defeat but pushed for info on his supposed playboy reputation. “So you’ve been asking about me?” Zeroing in on Amirah’s smaller frame with his almost charcoal gaze, it was her turn to laugh. “You wish.”  His smile broadened at her bratty comeback before he very noticeably gave her a once over. “¡Te ves hermosa.” Damian’s eyes met hers again with his gravelly voice scratching her brain deliciously. Maybe Bayley was right; he was fun. “Oh I know.” Mirah shot down his suave Spanish approach smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Hablas español?” “No, but you pick up a few things when you live in Harlem for a while.” 

Both intrigued and amused by the other superstar’s answer, Damian vowed to get to know her better in any capacity. “You know I was actually heading back to the hotel myself. Why don’t we share a ride? Uber is already on the way.” After contemplating getting in a car with him, Amirah pointed an accusatory finger at him. “If you insist, BUT no funny business.” Raising his hands in mock surrender, he flashed another cheek numbing smile at her. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Slapping his chest for his dramatics, she couldn’t help her own snicker which he ate all the way up. 

Their Uber pulled up two minutes later and like the gentleman he was, Damian had helped her climb into the truck before getting in after she was comfortable. “So do you still live in New York?” He pried quietly while they enjoyed their ride back to the hotel. “Sure do.” She replied proudly, watching the palm trees go by as the car rolled on. “Me too. Maybe we could be travel partners.” Humming in thought, she turned to him with a soft smile. “Yeah maybe. I don’t know how often I can be seen with you in public though before people start talking.” He chortled at the woman’s response before giving his own, “Fair enough.” The rest of their car ride was occupied with a game of 21 questions about themselves and their interests outside of wrestling. Coming to a stop outside of the hotel, the pair thanked the driver for his service and Damian exited the car first on the other side to come around and help her out. She could only laugh to herself about him turning on the charm heavily. When they entered the elevator, Mirah noticed that the taller man didn’t press a button for his floor so she shot him a quizzical look. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?” 

With a playful eyeroll she muttered a ‘whatever’ and let the space fill with a comfortable silence. At least she’d be able to get up early for a workout and the night turned out… interesting. A ding broke both of them out of their thoughts as they shuffled off the elevator on the 14th floor. Amirah could feel his eyes studying the swing of her hips while she led him to her room. Abruptly stopping at her door, Damian almost crashed into the back of her too focused on how she managed to walk in those killer shoes effortlessly. “This is me.” She stated, leaning against her door curious to see how the night would end. “Well I think my job here is done. You have arrived safely.” “That reminds me.” Before her friends put out an APB for her, she texted in their group chat that she had mad it back to her room. “Thank you for the escort. I appreciate it.” “It was my pleasure and if you don’t mind,” Damian carefully slid her phone into his hand and input his number. “You know in case I can be of service to you again.” Peering at him through squinted eyes she gave him a drawn out nod. “Riiiiiiiiight.” 

Smirking down at her for the last time, he gently took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss on her knuckles while gazing into her cocoa colored eyes. “M’lady, I bid you farewell.” And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall in long strides. Entering her hotel room and shutting the door behind her, Amirah collapsed against the door like women in romcoms. Girl what the fuck just happened. Taking in another deep breath, she headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower and to wring her damn panties out. Wait until she tells the girls about what just happened. Before she climbed into the shower to wash off the scent of booze, lust and worn leather, she shot the mysterious man a text of what she meant to say before he left her utterly speechless. 

{Princesa: Goodnight 🖤}

{Papi Chulo: Buenas noches hermosa 🖤}

mirrormirah

mirrormirah Your favorite athlete's favorite athlete 🖤

Liked by archerofinfamy, trinity_fatu and 482,719 others

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trinity_fatu THAT'S MY FRIEND 🥳

⤿ mirrormirah BEST FRIEND!!!! get it right!

biancabelairwwe the finEST

⤿ mirrormirah That's all you bby ❤️

theyluvjeannie80 I know that's right !!!!!

⤿ mirrormirah I luv you boo 😘

archerofinfamy 😈

⤿ mirrormirah 🥰

⤿ bossglowstandard oop 👀👀

jadecargill sexy af 🥵

⤿ mirrormirah trying to get like you 😋

Taglist:

@empressdede @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @2-muchsauce @cyberdejos2 @southerngirl41 @brie-mode-activated @piinklemonad3 @lucidddreamerrr

[daenysthedreamer101]

Youngest Original ~ TVDU

Ch 6 - Kassandra

Mikaelson!OC

Warnings: none really, the gang meets Kassie for the first time, Klaus being a horrible brother but also not?

Special shout out to @ashaluuler thank you for supporting and being so patient, I adore any time we talk. You keep motivating me to continue this silly little story. XOXO 💞

Masterlist

September 2010, Mystic Falls

"Why do I have to go?" Kassie asked as she, Klaus, and one of his hybrids entered the Mystic Grill. 

"Oh come on now, love. You have to socialize, make some friends." Klaus responded. She sighed. 

She noticed Klaus focusing on someone - Damon Salvatore and the new doppelganger were also in the pub. Klaus started walking toward them and Kassie followed, curious to meet the newest doppelganger.

Elena gasped once she noticed the Original Hybrid. "Klaus." Damon turned and looked at her brother with furrowed brows. 

"You're gonna do this in the Grill? In front of everyone? It's a little beneath you." The Salvatore commented as he looked around. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just came down to my local pub to grab a drink with my mate." Klaus said and Tony, his hybrid, went to order them drinks. 

"I'm surprised you stuck around long enough for happy hour," Damon said. 

"My sister seems to be missing. Need to sort that out." Klaus replied. It's been weeks since the homecoming dance and Bekah's disappearance. 

"Truth is...I've grown to rather like your little town. Thinking I might fancy a home here." Klaus said as he took darts from Damon's hands. 

Klaus proceeded to explain that if they behaved he wouldn't hurt anyone. Elena asked what more did he want. 

"Well, for starters, you can tell me where I might find Stefan." He replied, getting closer to Elena while pointing one of the darts to her face. 

Damon explained Stefan left town after he saved Klaus from Mikael. 

"Well, you see, that is a shame," Klaus said and threw the dart straight into the center of the board. "Your brother stole from me. I need him found so I can take back what's mine." 

"That sounds like a Klaus and Stefan problem" Elena commented. 

Well, she's a sassy one. Kassie thought. Klaus got into Elena's face, but Damon got between them. Klaus smirked and looked at Elena. 

"Well, this is me broadening the scope, sweetheart." He said to her. 

All this time, Kassie stood behind, leaning against a wooden pole. She approached Elena from the back. "So this is the latest doppelganger." 

Elena gasped and turned around. In front of her stood someone who could only be Kassandra Mikaelson, Klaus's other sister. Damon mentioned there was a mystery girl at the homecoming dance. She was taller than Elena, with long dark curls and the same deep-set blue eyes Rebekah and Klaus had.

She circled Elena, looking her up and down, almost like she was inspecting her. "The previous one was more intriguing, I must say." She commented, her voice deep and husky. 

Klaus chuckled and joined his sister's side. "And you are?" Damon asked. The girl turned her attention to him. She looked him up and down and smiled. 

"Kassandra. We already met, remember? When you kicked me in the stomach and threw me against a wall." She said, tilting her head to the side and cocking an eyebrow. There was an air of centuries-old pride, haughtiness, and self-importance around her. 

Damon grimaced and looked down, almost like he was embarrassed. Elena observed the girl - she wore black dress pants, a black blazer, and black heels. It fit her like a glove. The blazer cinched at her waist, accentuating her figure. Her posture, her polished appearance, the way she accentuated every word - It all reminded Elena of Elijah in a way. 

Around her neck was a dainty winged shaped necklace with a small opal in the middle. The girl once again looked at Elena, this time with a small smirk on her face. 

"Tell your little boyfriend to give us back our siblings and there won't be any problems. It would be such a shame If I was forced to mutilate your pretty little face." She said, tucking a strand of Elena's hair behind her ear. 

A shiver went down Elena's spine as Kassandra brushed one of Elena's cheeks with her fingers, her long, sharp nail leaving a faint red mark across it. 

"Alla prossima volta, bambollina." (Until next time, little doll.) She purred in a low voice. She glanced at Damon and walked away, her hips swaying. Klaus watched all of this with a smirk of his own and followed his sister. 

~

Later that night

Kassandra was in the lounge room, sitting on one of the sofas and filing her nails. She was alone, again. Klaus went to meet with Elena. Hopefully, she would tell them where Stefan was. Then, she could hear the front doors opening. It must be Klaus. 

She was curious to hear what Elena said, so she got up to greet Klaus. Rushing down to the entrance hall she was met with the sight of  Klaus standing and in his arms was Rebekah's desiccated body. 

"Bekah!" She gasped. She hadn't seen her sister in almost 90 years. Klaus laid her down on a table inside the lounge room. Kassie walked up to her and grabbed her cold, grey hand. Her sister was wearing a bright red dress and black pumps. 

"Where was she?" Kassie asked as she kept her eyes on Bekah's face. 

"Down in the cellar of the Salvatore house," Klaus replied. 

Kassie shook her head. "I told you they took her." 

"Why don't you go and prepare her a glass of blood? I'm sure she'll be thirsty when she wakes up." Klaus suggested to Kassie. 

Kassie was so happy to have her sister back, that she didn't stop to think why Klaus wanted her out of the room. She gave Rebekah's hand one last squeeze and left the room to get some blood for her sister.

Just one minute later, she came back into the room only to see Klaus plunging the dagger back into Rebekah's heart. She dropped the glass in her hand, splashing blood everywhere.

"I'm sorry," Klaus said quietly but Kassie was having none of it. She was so angry yet so tired of constantly feeling that anger that instead of yelling she just sighed, a single tear running down her face.

~

October 2010

Two more weeks passed. Kassandra loathed life in Mystic Falls. Not only did it constantly remind her of her long-lost human life and all she lost in the process of becoming a vampire, but the town was simply boring. There was nothing to do, nothing. 

There was the Grill, and it did look cozy but she stayed clear of it, knowing that Elena and her lot frequented the place. Kassandra was a city girl. She was used to living in the great capitals of the world - London, Paris, Rome, Moscow, Istanbul, Barcelona. She was used to a big, hectic city. She thrived in such an environment. 

Here, in a small town in the middle of Virginia, she had nothing to do, no friends besides her brother, and no places to visit. Well, maybe the town library, but that was it. Speaking of the library, that's where she was currently. 

The first time she visited, she was surprised by the size of it. There were rows and rows of shelves filled with books of all kinds. Granted, she has read most, if not all, of the most popular and well-known books over the centuries. Hell, she was probably there when the author was alive and wrote the book. 

She was sitting in a quiet corner secluded by a wall from the rest of the library. In her hands was a copy of The Aeneid by Virgil. Just like the woman she was named after, Kassandra often felt like no one listened to her, most notably her family.

Deep in her thoughts, Kassandra didn't notice a pair of curious eyes looking at her.

~

Caroline and Bonnie were in the town library searching for a book for their English project; they had to write a report about The Aeneid by Virgil. 

"Ugh. Do we really have to do this? I can just compel Mrs. Peterson to give us an A." Caroline grumbled, displeased about having to do schoolwork. 

Bonnie gave her a pointed look. "You are not going to compel one of our professors! We will get a good grade like any decent person - by actually reading the book." 

Caroline huffed and rolled her eyes. The reason why both girls were so tense was because of all the crazy supernatural things going on around them, they had forgotten about their book report which was due Friday. It was Wednesday. 

All the copies from the school library were already taken so their best hope was finding one in the town library. They spent over an hour trying to find a copy but to no avail. "We haven't looked here," Bonnie said to Care as they walked into a secluded part of the library. 

Once Care saw who was there she gasped, pulled Bonnie against the wall, and covered her mouth. Bonnie's eyes were wide, confusion obvious on her face. Care motioned to keep quiet.  

"Come out. I know you're there." A feminine voice said. 

Care sighed but knew they were caught. The two girls walked from behind the wall. Bonnie looked at the person sitting there - a beautiful, afluently dressed girl who seemed to be around their age. Her dark brown curls fell freely down her shoulders, framing her face. 

Her skin was pale, almost to an unnatural level, yet Bonnie could not deny the girl was stunning.  There was something eerie about her gaze as she looked over the two girls. Bonnie realized she must be the other Original sister. Bonnie also noted the book in her hands, it was The Aeneid, just what they were looking for. 

"Can I help you?" The girl inquired, her voice soft. Care and Bonnie looked at each other, not sure what to say. 

"Yeah, um, we were just looking for a copy of The Aeneid. It seems you have the last one." Care said in her usual bubbly, high voice. 

"You're Caroline, right? Elena's friend?" She asked, ignoring what the blonde said and Care nodded. Then her gaze shifted to Bonnie. 

"You must be Bonnie Bennett." She stated and Bonnie just nodded. She did not like the aura surrounding the girl. Something about it reminded Bonnie of Klaus. 

"I'm Kassandra. I knew your ancestor, Ayana." She introduced herself. Bonnie remembered that Rebekah told Elena their origin story and how Ayana refused to be a part of their creation. Bonnie had to admit, she was proud of that fact. 

"Omg, Is that Armani!?" Care said out of nowhere. Kassandra smirked while looking at her blood-red nails.

Bonnie looked better at her outfit - a simple black mini-dress with long sleeves, buttons, and a black belt. Underneath were black stockings and knee-high boots made of black leather were on her feet. 

"Oh my god! Where did you get it?" Care asked, obviously enamored. 

"I bought it in Milan. Back in 1991...But, you're not here to gush over my excellent fashion taste. Are you?" She asked with a raised brow. 

"Um, no. We were wondering if you needed that book. We sort of need it, like, really bad." Care said, putting on her friendliest face. 

The girl looked down at the book in her hand, then back at Care. She leaned back in her chair and tapped the arm of the chair with her long nails. She pursed her dark red lips which contrasted against her alabaster skin. She proceeded to offer the book to Care who looked uncertain for a second, but then walked closer to the brunette and took the book.

"Don't worry. I don't bite." Kassandra added with a smirk. She then put on a pair of black gloves that were lying on the table next to her. She picked up her purse and walked toward the two girls. 

"Stefan still hasn't returned my siblings. My patience is running thin, let alone Klaus's. I suggest telling your friend to give us back what we want. Unless you want this town drowning in blood." 

"Is that a threat?" Bonnie asked. Kassandra turned her head toward the witch. 

"Not a threat. Take it as a...friendly suggestion. I know my brother. I know how ruthless he can be, especially to those in his way. Convince Stefan to return us our siblings before it's too late." And with that, the Original walked away, her heels clicking against the floor.

Bonnie and Caroline exchanged worried looks. 

Back home, Kassie was in her room, taking off her makeup. Only when she returned home did she realize she spent the entire day by herself. Klaus left the house early in the morning and she hasn't seen him since.

She sighed loudly. She hated when he did that; he would leave her alone for the entire day and come back in the evening and be surprised when she got upset. But no matter how much he annoyed her, she wished he was here with her today. 

Today was her birthday; her 1027th birthday to be exact. She almost forgot and the only reason she even remembered is because she looked at the calendar. She was in no celebratory mood; there wasn't anything to celebrate or anyone to celebrate with. 

She remembers her birthdays when she was a child; her mother would make sweet bread glazed with honey and warm milk. Rebekah would braid flowers into her hair and they would spend the entire day together playing with the other girls from the village. 

Now, she was all alone. Her siblings were locked away somewhere like they were objects and not sentient beings. And Klaus was God knows where. She had no one by her side, no one to comfort her, no one to spend time with. 

"Kassandra! Where are you?" 

She sighed and shook her head. She walked downstairs, her heeled sandals clicking against the tiles. What could he possibly want from her?

He turned around at the sight of her and smiled widely. "Ah, there she is! My beautiful sister! Happy birthday, love." He congratulated her with open arms. 

Kassie accepted the hug, some would say reluctantly. It seems even Klaus noticed that. He put his hands around her jaw, caressing her face with his thumbs. To her surprise, he appeared to be genuine in his well wishes. 

"I have a surprise for you." He said, took her hand, and led her to the living room. 

He turned on the lights and Kassie was met with the sight of the room fully decorated with balloons, a banner saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY, and a delicious-looking cake on the table. 

She was speechless. She didn't know what to think of all this. On one hand, she was overjoyed that Klaus would do something like this for her. On the other hand, she couldn't help but question why he was doing all of this. It wasn't in her nature to be so...kind and not ask for something in return. 

"Well, what do you think?" He asked and it seemed like he was nervous to see her reaction. Despite her doubts, she offered him a smile and thanked him for the surprise. 

"It's wonderful! Thank you, Nik!" She looked at the decorations. "Did you really do all this by yourself?" She questioned.

"Ugh, well, I must admit, Mindy did help a little bit." He said, rubbing his neck. She chuckled at his nervousness and pecked his cheek. 

"Now..." She said, picked up a knife, and pointed to the cake. She offered him the knife. "You are an expert with knives, are you not?" She said with a smirk. 

He laughed and proceeded to cut them both a piece. It was a delicious chocolate cake filled with salted caramel and even more chocolate pudding. It had a rich, creamy taste. She hummed in contentment.

They spent the rest of the night doing a Star Wars marathon. Klaus even bought lightsabers and they had a duel. She won, obviously. That night they were just brother and sister, laughing together. For one night, she forgot about all the anger and resentment her heart held for him. 

***

Ch 6 is finally here! Thank you for being so patient with me, uni has been crazy. The gang meets Kassie properly and they're shocked, to say the least. Obviously, Stefan knew her from the 20s but he's not in this ch.

It's also Kassie's bday and I decided to give her and Klaus a nice time cause he won't be getting any more cute moments lol. I wanted them to have this cause their relationship will only go downhill from here. 💀

Also I did not intended for that scene with Elena to have so much tension, but oh well I kind of like it🙈, it won't last though.

Thank you so much for reading! 💕

If you have any opinions/thoughts, feel free to comment.

[ambivalent-anarchy]

You've Got Moves (Part 2)

Masterlist

Part 1

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

A/N: Better late than never, right?😂😂 (wow 2 fics in one week that's crazyyy) Also I put one of my favorite comedy tiktoks in the dialogue soooooo oops? Also Harry and Ned are wingmen who share one brain cell and I like it that way

I might make one more part to this but idk

---------------------------------------

It took 7 months for Peter to ask you out.

It took the time for MJ and Asher to become a couple, homecoming to go by, MJ and Asher to break up, winter formal, midterm exams, MJ and Asher to get back together, and Christmas to go before Peter Parker gathered the guts to even consider thinking about asking you out.

Scared wasn't even the word for it.

Harry Osborn, the new transfer student, laughed at how nervous Peter was at lunch. "Asking girls out is easy, Peter. I do it all the time!"

"You say it like it's the simplest thing on earth," Peter dreaded, to which Harry shrugged.

"Because it is! You just ask. How is it that I've only been at this school for 2 months and I've had more chicks than both you and Ned combined?"

"Hooking up is not a hobby of mine. That's why," Peter retorted with a pitifully unintimidating glare.

Harry shrugged with his shit-eating grin. "It's not my fault the girls and gays can't resist these lips."

Ned chimed in as he threw a french fry into his mouth. "Peter, this isn't like Liz last year. You and [Y/N] are already really close, dude. I'm sure you can just ask her. Who knows? She might say yes!"

"But what if she says no?," Peter groaned. "Then I'll just be one of those people she avoids and barely talks to out of awkwardness." He shifted in his seat nervously. "I don't want that."

"But if you don't say anything then you'll always regret it," Ned pointed out.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Peter, pull out your phone."

Peter raised his eyebrows in confusion, but followed Harry's instructions.

"Go to her in messages and say 'hey let's get dinner'." He smiled. "See? Simple."

Peter opened your messages in his phone and stared at your profile picture.

'You can do this, Peter. You can do this.'

He bit his lip. "Okay but should I say, 'let's get dinner' or 'do you want to get dinner'?" Seeing Harry's impatient face, he explained himself. "I just feel like those two sentences have completely different vibes, y'know?"

Harry glared at him. "Are you really about to have us telling you what to tell your crush like a bunch of girls?"

Peter didn't know how to answer that question seriously. "Uh...yes?"

Harry pondered the question for a small bit before simply shrugging and answering. "Hmm, go with 'let's get dinner', so you'll sound all confident and assertive."

"Okay."

Before Peter could press send without thinking twice, Ned stopped him. "Well, actually now you sound a little aggressive, man."

"Really?," Peter asked with a wince, immediately erasing the message.

"Yeah, I mean the last thing you wanna be like is the guy that's all like 'let's get dinner' like you're some kind of caveman."

Peter groaned. "Oh no, definitely not."

Ned ate another fry. "You want to ask her to dinner, not tell her to dinner."

"I'll go with 'do you want to get dinner' then," Peter said with a nod.

That one didn't sit well with Harry. "No Pete. Cuz now you sound like a pussy."

Peter slammed his phone onto the lunch table. "This stuff is tough!"

Ned turned towards Harry. "No but listen. The last thing Peter wants to do is come off as the overly masculine type that's all like 'let's get dinner cuz I'm the breadwinner, bitch', y'know?"

Harry shook his head. "Yeah but women also love assertiveness. You have to know what you want."

Peter stared at the table, desperately wanting the conversation to be over. Why would he even go to these two for relationship advice? Harry was the king of hookups and Ned's relationships never lasted longer than a few weeks. What was he thinking? For a guy with a 4.5 GPA, he sure did feel stupid.

"I got it!," Ned exclaimed. "Okay. Text her this. 'Dinner would be something that I would enjoy taking you on, but only if YOU were also interested in attending the meal'." He held his hands up for praise.

Harry nodded. "Mhm. Perfect balance. And the more words the better."

Peter just stared back at them, wondering where he'd gone wrong in life. "...no.... I'm not gonna send her that."

Harry shrugged. "Welp,' he sighed. "I guess some people just don't want to be helped."

So close to slamming his head into the table in front of him, Peter felt a tsunami of relief hit when he saw Asher walk into the cafeteria.

Asher was your best friend. If anyone knew the proper way you'd want to be asked out, it'd be him.

The second Asher noticed Peter looking at him, he made his way over. "Hey Peter. What's up?," he asked as he found an empty seat.

Harry spoke up before Peter had the chance. "Hey Ash. Pick one. 'Let's get dinner' or 'do you want to get dinner'."

Asher thought for a second. "Depends on the girl," he said before taking a bite into his apple. "-but 'do you want to get dinner' is nicer. Why?"

Harry slammed his fist on the table. "Damn it!"

"Yes!," Ned cheered.

Asher looked around the table. "Okay, by why?"

Harry and Ned went quiet and looked to Peter, who was staring anywhere to avoid eye contact. He began to mumble pitifully."I....I-i wanna.. I wanna-"

Harry and Ned spoke up, already tired of the conversation not getting anywhere. "He wants to ask-"

"-I wanna ask [Y/N] out!," he blurted, feeling his cheeks start to burn when Asher's smirk turned into a wide grin.

"Well it's about time!," he exclaimed. "She's been crazy about you since you met."

"Really? She has?," Peter asked. That wasn't even in the realm of possibility in his mind.

Asher nodded. "She's always going off to me about how-" he mocked your higher pitched voice. "I've been dropping him hints since, like, foreverrrr!"

"Seriously?! She has?"

Ned laughed. "Well Peter. She has been calling you cute since the day she met you..."

"But I just always thought it was the friendly kind of cute, y'know?," he rambled. "Not the boyfriend type cute!"

"How many girls are out here calling you cute for you to make that assumption, dude?," Harry asked.

Asher sighed. "So this is what it's like to have low confidence." He shook his head and gave Peter a disappointed look. "I can't say I like witnessing this, Pete."

"Just-" Peter groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. "Just tell me what will work, okay? I need to ask her out perfectly."

Asher tilted his head in confusion. "She's a simple girl. You just have to straight up ask her out. What's the confusion there?"

"That's what I said!," Harry yelled.

"You know he's got to make it difficult for himself for no reason," Ned pointed out.

"Okay can we all talk about how terrible I am at this after you help me?," Peter begged.

"...yeah."

"Sure."

"Ugh, fine."

Peter sighed. "Alright. So?"

"What are you going for?," Asher asked. "Like a gift or something?"

"I just want whatever's the absolute best way to ask her out."

Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. If he was gonna set you up with your crush, he wanted it to happen right.

"Okay," he said, staring Peter in the eyes with a new sort of intensity. "Think about your best moments with her. Now pick something special from all those moments and voila! You'll have it!"

Peter nodded and stared at the ground as he thought for a while about everything he'd done with you since the beginning of school. You were truly the most extraordinary, most confident girl he'd ever met.

Every time he'd thought you couldn't get more perfect, you'd just show him another side of you that was better than the rest. He always stayed endlessly impressed and most of all, he felt as if he didn't have to try too hard with you. He could be himself and mess up as many times as he could manage and you still stuck around, showing him that there needn't be any worries.

And your style? Fuck, you could make anything work for him. You were the only one who could get him out of his comfort zone and in front of a camera, for something as frivolous as a TikTok. But he'd always do it, and even find the fun in it, because it made you happy.

"Remember how we freaked out that first time when she called you cute, Pete?," Ned said. "She said that you were cute and that you only had to put it use!"

Harry laughed. "This girl is literally giving you the instructions, Peter. Take them."

"Hmm." Peter looked up with a smile and snapped his fingers. "I got it."

-

You tossed popcorn into your mouth and snuggled yourself further into the blanket. "Ash, how can you even say that? 'It' is a horror movie!"

"Yeah, technically," he retorted. "But there's literally not a single part of the movie that's scary. It's more of a drama than anything else."

"You realize the clown phobia rate skyrocketed when the movie came out right?"

Asher scoffed. "Uh, your point? It's not my fault some pussies couldn't sit through it. Still a drama. The story definitely played with your emotions more than your fears."

"Whateverrrr," you laughed. "I can't deal with you."

"Pennywise literally got up and did this," he said before breaking out into Pennywise's dance. He laughed as he kicked his legs out. "What kind of horror movie has this crap in it?" He stopped when he felt the full force of you throwing a pillow on his face. "Ugh!"

"Sit down and get under the covers, idiot," you hissed. "I wanna keep watching these HORROR films."

"Whateverrrr," he drawled out, mocking you. He sighed and plopped down next to you, grabbing a handful of popcorn after.

When school was getting suffocating, marathoning horror movies with Asher were a must. He had an endless repertoire and all the time in the world for his best friend.

Halfway through 'It: Chapter 2' though, the movie was the least of your focus and instead was TikTok.

What could you say? The app was addictive.

It was a big, entertaining, completely useless collage of everything every no-name had to offer, from stupid debates to cringey POV's to fun dance routines.

You tried to hook every friend you could on it. Asher, of course, already knew about it since it first came out and he, of course, had thousands of followers because most of what he posted was random thirsts traps whenever he was feeling hot, which was always. And thirsts traps are always in high demand for the people on TikTok.

You tried to hook MJ on it, but she'd already decided that she didn't like it before even giving it a chance. Even the messy, political side didn't reel her in.

Of course then there was Peter, who didn't know was TikTok even was before he met you. You made it your sole mission to get him hooked, but you'd since given up on that. It was a lost cause. The only time he probably ever saw TikTok nowadays was when he was doing dances with you before gym started. He let you put the app on his phone but he never used it. You wouldn't even put it past him to have deleted it, but it was whatever. TikTok had started his friendship with you, so needless to say, it'd done an amazing job in your life.

Plus your followers were always asking about him. All of the "omg couple goalssss" and "you guys look so cute together" served as massive confidence boosters. A girl can dream, right?

You shifted over a bit when you felt Ash getting closer and closer to you.

When he moved over again, you scooted away, only for him to get closer again. "Ash, what is your deal?"

"Easy there," he chuckled, backing up a little. "I'm looking at the phone, not you."

"You've been all up in my phone all day, what's up?"

"I can't tell you," he shrugged, a sly smirk stretching across his face. "But," he pointed to your tiny screen. "Some idiot is taking wayyyy too long to shoot his shot."

"Shoot his shot?" You gasped. "Who?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he said with a smirk.

"Nooooo," you whined. "If someone has a crush on me you gotta spill! C'mon, please?"

He laughed and repeated himself. "I'm sorry, but I am not at liberty to say!"

"Bullshit! Who is it? C'mon! C'monnnnnn!"

He shrugged and this time you knew that he was dead set on not giving up the mystery guy.

"Ugh," you pouted. "Fine. Let's just finish the stupid movie."

-

"Kids next door, battle stations!!!!"

And now it was sometime after midnight. The popcorn was all gone. The movie was done and now you were watching old cartoons so that the horror movie wouldn't be the last thing on your mind before bed.

Looking over, you saw that Asher didn't need any cartoons like you did. He was already passed out, snoring as loud as ever.

Grumbling in boredom, you stared at the wall, trying to connect the tiny dots in the designs. It was like something was officially keeping you from being able to fall asleep.

*Ding!*

At the sound of your phone receiving a text, you sat up curiously. Who was texting you at this hour?

You smiled when you saw that it was Peter.

Pete: hey y/n

You were about to send him a quick,"why are you up this late" text, but he kept typing.

Pete: pls dont judge me too hard for this

With that completely vague warning, you furrowed your eyebrows, concerned.

Y/n: whats up r u okay

He sent you a link next, which confused you, but not as much as when you actually pressed it.

It led you to TikTok, and the video was waiting to be pressed to start. Peter was standing in the middle of the screen with one of his typical corny sweatshirts on. The caption at the top read: "For [Y/N] Only". Smiling already, you quickly pressed play.

You slapped your hand over your mouth. "Oh my God."

"So he finally got the guts, huh?," Asher mumbled, having woken up from the loud music on your phone but was still half-asleep.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I wake you?," you asked. You turned down your phone.

"Don't worry about me, you just got a boyfriend," he chuckled, moving to lay down so he could get to sleep again. "Text him back for god's sake."

~~~

Y/n: its been almost a whole year and youre still so cute when you make those

Pete: haha thanks

Pete: uh

Pete: i really like you y/n

Pete: do u think you'd wanna go out with me or get dinner sometime?

~~~

"He asked me out," you gasped. "Ash, he asked me out!"

Asher rolled over and groaned. "I thought that was already established? Jesus, you two couldn't possibly be moving any slower."

You rolled your eyes. "Fuck you."

"Nah, you're with Peter now," he laughed. "You're gonna have to fuck him instead!" That comment earned him another pillow to the face.

You looked back at the messages and sent a tiny cute one. You smirked at the new idea of what was about to happen and turned it off before going to sleep.

~~~

Y/n: kiss me at school tomorrow and find out

~~~

Didn't do a third edit cuz I got lazy but I'm pretty happy with the turnout anyway. Thanks for reading!

Tagging: @allegra-writes, @allegra-soleil, @yumings, @hey-its-grey, @spideyyeet, @sunkissedspidey, @tommyunderoos, @chaoticpete, @snarky--starky, @sovereignparker, @thesherlockianavenger, @bubblebucky, @kelieah, @eridanuswave, @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr, @kidney9-9, @gwenvrse

[lady-olive-oil]

Chapter 1

Prelude || Characters || Chapter 1

{A/N: First chapter of a new series for the new year! Let’s go! Let me know what you think and if you want to be apart of the tag squad! Huge thanks to my sis Maddie, she’s a character in this one by the name of Natasha}

Squad: @maddiestundentwritergaines

Word Count: 1,295

Warnings: none

Xhosa Translations; (loosely)

‘Ndifungela ndiya kukubetha ngolunye usuku

- I swear I’m going to hit you one day

———

Junior year. Near the final stretch for Nefertiti and her crew. It’s took some time to get here but, with a village she made it through. Getting a degree has always been at the top of her list, alongside becoming a Delta. Becoming a Delta meant that you held yourself to a high standard, a higher caliber of life and was apart of the Divine Nine. This second semester in particular, moving into a better part of the sorority house was the perfect way to start off the year. A room fit for an upcoming big sister.

With some old 80’s and 90’s jams, playing in the background, while sorting the boxes all out, Nefe was just in her element. With the help of her roomie Natasha, fellow Delta herself, she couldn’t help but love the new vibe she felt from Nefe.

“Honey, Chile. I don’t know what got into you, but I’m loving this new attitude of yours. It’s new and vibrant, I wonder what’s gotten into you?”

Natasha, or Nattie, has always been Nefe’s voice of reason along with the party queen. Kind of a contradiction isn’t it? Well that’s how she is: voice of reason and party queen.

“Well what got into me was Sean. Don’t tell M’Baku cause he’ll flip his shit.” A chuckle left her full lips as she opened the box of her room decorations, along with Southern University pennants.

“You mean Mr. Wakanda? Something about him just screams seduction. Why aren’t you with him? Sean isn’t what you need Nefe.”

Nattie did always have a way with words. Maybe she was onto something. But Nefe never really thought of M’Baku that way, and he didn’t think of her that way. Did he?

“Oh so Mr. Wakanda, will have something to say huh?” The infamous thick voice broke the silence, causing the girls to scream.

“Jesus M’Baku! Don’t do that. Ndifungela ndiya kukubetha ngolunye usuku”

To say he wasn’t laughing is an understatement. Along with teaching Nefe Xhosa, which clearly stuck with her like gorilla glue on a boot.

“Your pronunciations are getting better, intyatyambo. That’s flower by the way.”

Sitting on the loveseat by the bay window, giving his ever so sweet smile. He never ceased to amaze them. Okoye and Nakia were in their rooms but knew M’Baku came to visit Nefe. They’d tease her about it occasionally.

“Gee. Thanks great gorilla. I’m sure your home country will be proud.”

The teasing tone in her voice caused him to chuckle and Nattie to shake her head and help finish decorating.

“My parents miss me yes. But they’ll be visiting on parents day in September, along with me going home with you and your family. It’s tradition.”

He shrugged as he grabbed a Velcro command strip to hang up a framed picture. A family portrait that meant the world to Nefertiti. That’s one of the things he loves about her, how family oriented she is.

“Yeah yeah. Ok you two, the jams are on and we all have class in an hour. Gotta start junior year off right, right? So sister Queen Nefertiti, turn up the jams.”

Nattie grabbed another box, as Nefe turned up the song on her Logitech Clock radio, that was currently charging her phone. Prompting M’Baku to either join in or record it.

“I got all this love, waiting just for you I just got to know, that your love is true. Can't keep running boy, in and out my life. Want to be your girl, not cause the mood is right.”

Nefe lip synced into her hair brush, swaying her hips to the beat and making her way to her closet. Pointing to Nattie, and she gladly took the next verse.

“If I let you come inside Tomorrow will you hide? Will you be there for me? When I need someone to hold Baby don't misunderstand. I do want you for my man, I just need a little time, Before I invest my love”

Moments like these were what the group was looking forward to. The late night studying groups, sleepover, Greek recruitment days, parties and most of all graduation coming soon. It was gonna be a grand year.

M’Baku was taping them the whole time and was enjoying being back at SU with his friends. He knew he had to get the group together sooner or later to catch up. But for now he’d settle for this with two of his favorite girls.

“Don't walk away boy, My love won't hurt you. Don't walk away boy, I'll be right there for you!”

The girls sung in unison as they danced around in complete bliss and comfort. The two girls fell on top of a huge bean bag chair, and started laughing The three of them finished decorating and admired their work, ready to take on the year.

The rest of the day was filled with classes, introducing new students to the class; ye old syllabus and requirements to uphold. The old mumbo jumbo. But something in music theory threw Nefertiti off her rocker.

Melanie Davis was her name, being Nefe’s rival was her game. They’ve had it out for each other since high school. Even the delta house denied her application sophomore year, because of how she presented herself. Yet the AKA’s welcomes her greatly.

Sitting next to M’Baku on his left, she batted her falsies at him and smiled.

“So M’Baku, how was your summer? You should’ve went to Jamaica with me and the girls. We would’ve loved to have you there.”

Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Nefe. Her left eye was twitching and Okoye caught it.

“My summer was great Mel. It was good to be home. I’m sorry I couldn’t. Maybe next spring or summer break.”

He did find Melanie attractive. Who wouldn’t? He just let her down gently and she giggled. She made Nefe’s skin crawl.

“Want me to cut her? I’ll cut her for you.” she mouthed at Nefe which cause her to chuckle and shake her head.

“So the homecoming game is coming up. I’ll be cheering for you in the stands. Plus there’s a party afterwards, wanna go with me?”

He was so uncomfortable, and was about to reply till someone stepped in.

“He has plans already, Davis. Stop trying.” Nefe finally spoke up causing everyone around them to laugh.

“Listen here little miss soul sistah. If M’Baku wants to go with another melanin goddess like me, it’s his choice to go.”

Melanie never ceased to get under Nefe’s skin because she knew it bothered her that she could get to M’Baku. After all they did date before, but she ended the relationship because of his friendship with Nefe.

“No you listen here, Mel. He’s obviously uncomfortable with you still. So why don’t you sit ya ass down and chill. Aight?”

Erik always had Nefe’s back. She was like a sister to him. He’s T’Challa cousin and M’Baku frat brother of Omega Psi Phi.

Melanie scoffed and headed out with her little crew, once class was over.

“So y’all want dinner? Popeye’s or is Nakia making jambalaya?” T’Challa, also one of M’Baku’s friends, had asked the group as they headed out the class.

“I’m feelin Popeye’s. Let’s go.”

Once they agreed to Nefe’s statement, they headed that direction. What happened in the music room played again in Nefe’s head. Part of her knew M’Baku still had feelings for Melanie and that somewhat bothered her.

Nah, not somewhat. It fully bothered her to the fullest extent. This was going to be a long year till graduation.

[humeperry]

A stupid lighthearted tale

I'll start my first official post with a funny tale before I go sad midwest emo on everyone.

My high school was exactly what movies depict the typical small town high school to be like: parties, underage drinking and drug use, sex, drama, football. As sad as it sounds, some of my most memorable nights were in high school. I think just the sneakiness of everything made it way more fun. Now, I can go to a strip club, snort coke off a stripper's asshole and it's no big deal. But back then? As a sixteen year old kid? Getting alcohol was a bigger deal than getting weed. Oh yeah, weed was everywhere. You had to know someone over 21 who was willing to buy you alcohol, and most people over 21 left my small town ASAP. So, this is a stupid lighthearted tale about my quest to smoke the most weed I had ever smoked; but more importantly, to get my hands on some coveted alcohol after my junior year homecoming dance.

(Everyone's names on this blog post and all future blog post are changed from their real names. Some of this shit I'll talk about is illegal, and also I don't want to be identified on the internet. However, all of it is true.)

Me and Brian had spent the whole Saturday morning before the dance smoking a half ounce of weed. At the time, it was the most I had ever seen in my life.

See, that Friday after school, I went to this kid's house and bought it before my game that night. For a small midwest town in the early 2010s, it was surprisingly good weed. My mom had given me her debit card to get some gas before the game, and I withdrew $200 and spent it on weed... Yeah, I know. Privileged, and also stupid. Somehow, they never found out, or at least didn't question me about it. After our inevitable win that night, Brian and I started in.

Saturday morning, we woke up still high from the night before, and went on a route. A route is a blunt route. You go out in the country and cruise along the backroads smoking a blunt, or in our case, many blunts. This was a necessity, as our parents obviously wouldn't allow us to smoke weed at our houses, and there was no where else to do it without getting arrested in our small town. The cops never went out on these backroads, and through my adventures I eventually found a route known by my group of friends as "THE" route, but that's another story.

We finish our route that afternoon and I head home high out of my fucking mind. I put eyedrops in before leaving Brian's house after dropping him off, they luckily kick in right before I head into my house. My dad starts talking to me about the game and my performance, and I'm trying not to act too high. I say things like, "yeah, haha... I had a good game.." and since my sister who is a year younger than me had our house in chaos due to her getting ready for the dance, he eventually left me alone.

It was probably about 3:00 by this time and I had to take pictures at my house with my friends at 5:00. So, I dropped a quick triple double on MyCareer and took a shower. I put my shirt and tie on, still high out of my fucking mind and went downstairs and outside to a lawn full of people wanting to take pictures. Since my sister and I were so close in age, we had a lot of the same friends, and this group and their parents were all in my front lawn. We took pictures, sometimes these pictures pop up on my Facebook Memories and they never fail to make me chuckle. I look so high despite all the eyedrops I poured into my eyes. Anyways, this group all had plans to go to next city over and eat at this fancy restaurant before the dance, and they invited me to go with them after the pictures were over. I declined and met back up with Brian and our friend Coady to finish the job. The rest of the half.

The dance was at 7:00, and it was about 5:30. Of the fourteen grams I bought, we had smoked probably half of it. In an hour and a half, we finished the rest of it and went to the gym smelling like fourteen squirts of Michael Jordan cologne.

The dance? Lame. None of us had dates, and we were all stoned to the gills. I took my chances and danced with a few girls. When else does a sixteen year old stoned horny boy get to grind on willing females with no strings attached for a few hours? But we eventually dipped out way earlier than supposed. Our friend, Peyton, was having a party at her house, and Brian and Coady wanted alcohol since we had ran out of weed. They begged me to call Jimmy. I didn't want to call Jimmy.

Jimmy was this 21+ year old dirtbag from our town who I was introduced to by another friend. Jimmy sold weed, really cheap, but you had to do favors for him because he didn't have a car, like take him to Kroger's after picking up or pick him up from some sketchy trailer park to take him back to his house to get the weed. Shit like that. He was almost always drunk, smelled like shit, had a really nasally voice and was just overall fucking strange. He was also like 5' tall and wore super oversized clothes so he looked even smaller. He had never gotten me alcohol before that night, but he was the only 21+ person I was even remotely comfortable with asking for alcohol. Yeah...

After some pleading, and realizing he was our only realistic shot of getting alcohol that night, I called him. "Hey me-annn," he answered with his midwest accent and slurred speech. (Oh, also, you had to call his fucking house phone. It was 2013 at this point and house phones weren't even really a thing anymore, but this motherfucker didn't have a cell phone and sometimes his mom would answer.)

"What's up, Jimmy? It's Hume. You think you could get me some alcohol tonight? It's homecoming," I asked.

"Alcohol? Like what kind?" he replied.

"Just a fifth of something, we got the money and everything. We can even throw you a little extra to do it," I begged.

"Alright... But only because you're my guy, Hume. You're my guy, me-annn," he slurred back. "Come pick me up at my house."

Thank God I didn't have to go pick him up somewhere else, I thought. "Alright, alright, we're on the way." My friends cheered and we headed off in my F150 to pick up Jimmy.

We get to his small house and I honk. He comes hobbling out and stumbles into my backseat reeking of alcohol. Surprisingly though, he's also in a shirt and tie. "You look good, man," I tell him as he shuts the door.

"Thinks, man. It was my cousinsh's wedding," he slurred back. He looks at my friends Brian and Coady and then peers back at me with a confused look on his face. "Who the fuck are these?"

"Ah, this is Brian and this is Coady. Good friends of mine. We're goin' to a party tonight and just need a fifth of some Vodka or something," I assure him.

"Yeah, yeah, UV Blue," Coady says. Jimmy furrows his brow and then leans back in his seat to look out the window. I give Coady a look and then drive over to the gas station/liquor store. The whole ride to the place, Jimmy keeps telling me, "I'm only doin' this for you, Hume. Not these other guys. You're my guy, me-annn. You're my guy, Hume. Yeah, I'm only doin' this for you because you're my guy, me-annn. I'm only doin' this for you because you're my guy, Hume." I just nod and say "yeah I know" and thanks and whatever else you say to a drunk person to get them to shut up.

As we pull up, Coady suddenly ducks down in his seat.

"That's my sister bro, she can't see me. The dance is still going on and, and---" he looks over at Jimmy, not wanting to say that he doesn't want his sister to see him with Jimmy. Jimmy loses his fucking mind and goes back into his thought loop of "I'm only doing this for you Hume because you're my guy, me-annn," but this time he also adds, "This guy is creeping me the fuck out, he's sketchy, Hume, he's sketchy." He's almost yelling at this point and I get him to calm down. Brian gives him some money and tells him what to get and Jimmy goes in.

"See, this is why I didn't want to fucking call him," I tell my friends. Coady still ducked down in the fucking floorboards. Somehow his sister didn't see me either.

Jimmy takes forever in this fucking gas station. Like thirty plus minutes at least. I don't know how. The place isn't big, there's windows all over and we couldn't even see him in there. While we're waiting for him to come out, all of a sudden, I hear tires screech. Loudly, like right behind me. I look in my rear view mirror and see this white Pontiac Grand Prix jump the boulevard (the little grassy area between the street and the parking lot of a gas station) and fucking skirrrrrt into a space to get gas. Someone yells, "Damn, someone's fucked up." And this car just skirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrts out again spinning their tires and takes off down the street, jumping the boulevard again. We all look at each other and bust out laughing. The cops drove through the parking lot a few times seemingly looking for this car.

Eventually, Jimmy finally comes out with our liquor. We thank him and I start to back out to take Jimmy home. He tells me, "Hey, hey, just pull around here me-annnn. My cousins from the wedding are gonna pick me up here." Okay. We pull around the side of the gas station and wait for Jimmy's cousins. We tell him the story of the Pontiac Grand Prix jumping the boulevard twice and how the cops are looking for it. He just hits us with the "Damn, that's crazy," and then goes back into his thought loop. "I'm only doin' this for you, Hume... Not these two, I don't even know these two. You're my guy, Hume. You're my guy, me-annnn." Yeah, yeah, thanks, Jimmy....

As we're sitting there, I see in my rear view mirror the same white Grand Prix pull BACK into the gas station. I say, "Holy shit, that's the car!" right as Jimmy goes, "My cousins are here, see ya." He hops out and gets in the car as we all burst out laughing again. A total Jimmy thing to do.

[lizzybeth1986]

"In sandy soil, when deep you delve, you reach the springs below; The more you learn, the freer streams of wisdom flow." - Kural 396, Thirukkural, Thiruvalluvar.

Hana's first truly individual scene in Book 3 follows the pattern that a number of her diamond scenes have followed: learn from Hana, use her skills, get her insight to gain an advantage. These scenes are usually my favourite, because often Hana gets to give us an insight both into courtly life and into her inner mindscape.

The Cordonian Waltz scene gives us an insight into her broken engagement, the Moonflower Scene into her dilemma between staying true to herself and not being able to let go of her parents yet, and the Patisserie and Champagne scenes allow us to view her at different phases of her journey towards self actualization.

The Polo scene is, likewise, meant to improve the MC's skillset and provide her with an added edge in the next day's fundraising match. As is the case with dancing, baking, modelling, ice-skating and dressage, polo was one among the many skills Hana learned in order to bag a noble suitor. Skills whose uses she is beginning to question now.

Polo Moves

Playing polo for Portavira is not entirely about winning a match - it's about putting up a show worth watching for the crowd. This is a benefit match, meant to raise funds for the disaster-struck area, and it doesn't matter so much who wins or loses as it matters that people get their money's worth watching it.

Hana's gift does not lie simply in knowing how to impart skills, but in knowing which skills to impart. She understands the context of this match and what is truly important - she anticipates the needs of their audience and helps the MC deliver accordingly. Her polo lesson is as much about artistry and performance as it is about winning this match.

Hana imparts three important pieces of advice that will help us gain an advantage during the match: one focussed on the game aspect, and the other two on entertaining the crowd.

"Watch the line of the ball" helps the MC figure out how to ensure that she strikes a goal and wins. Her advice that "you can only cross [the ball's] path if there's no chance of someone running into you, or if no other players have the right of way" becomes effective in the match when the MC races Maxwell to the ball, understanding that if she distracts him adequately (either by mentioning a corgi or a dance party) she can earn sole right of way and score for her team. This allows the former Queen Regina, who is mostly silent the rest of the match, to compliment the MC on her skills ("what a play!").

The half-pass is primarily a well-known and often-judged dressage move, and a very challenging one. Unlike the easier leg yield - where the horse is bent only slightly away from the direction of travel - the half-pass is seen as more advanced, requiring greater balance, engagement, and collection from the horse. Denise Cummins, in her website The Thinking Equestrian, describes the half-pass thus: "The half-pass is not a trick. It is a skilled movement that requires the horse to have the proper muscle development and agility".

Essentially, Hana has managed to teach the MC an immensely difficult - and risky, were it a different horse (the MC's personal steed, if she has bought it, is a Derby champion and has proven to be skilled enough for dressage routines) - skill in the course of a single night.

Teaching this dressage move benefits the MC and her horse into two ways: it allows her horse to wow the crowd, and the "diagonal motion" ensures she reaches the ball before Neville does. The half-pass is more about the agility of the horse than it is about the grace or skills of the rider, so teaching her this move allows the crowd to "applaud [the horse's] elegant gait".

The other secret move that Hana passes on is one of her own invention: the windmill. She exhibits this skill when the MC asks her if there are moves she - and not just her horse - can exhibit to win over the crowd. Hana acknowledges that "riders don't usually do anything showy" but nevertheless has the perfect trick up her sleeve:

I think this tells us a lot more about Hana's intuition and perceptiveness than it does about her polo-playing skills. While yes, this move is largely a mark of her creativity and initiative, it also shows us her ability to go above and beyond the game itself to think of what could entertain the audience. For the windmill is a move that was clearly invented to be a crowd-pleaser, to draw attention to the player. This is a move that relies as much on dramatics and showmanship as on timing, allows the MC to look good, and is easy for the crowd to do as well.

If one opts for this diamond scene and gets the additional option of exhibiting this move, it results not only in the crowd enjoying it but also emulating it. Dozens of people are described "mimicking the 'windmill' with handheld flags and anything they can find at hand". Hana definitely knows what the people on the stands are looking for in a match, and is able to mould her skills to deliver just that - and in this lies her biggest gift. I will elaborate on this in a later section.

Skills and Passions

Before I go into the crux of this section - which is what Hana knows vs what interests her, I'd like to look back at a very interesting point Liam made about Hana in his Diplomacy diamond scene:

Hana's a tough one. She's clearly had the kind of lessons I'm giving you now, and then some. Her posture's almost always polite and attentive...but when she feels strongly about something, you can sense her real feelings even before she speaks up. Her eyes grow darker and more serious.

While the book does not explicitly mention her eyes, there is a clear change of tone when Hana is talking about skills she has picked up, versus things she is passionate about. Compare, for instance, the way she speaks about ice skating to piano:

(Screenshots from the Abhirio YouTube channel)

Throughout the books, we see Hana adopt a largely neutral stance about things she has learned but isn't entirely interested in (ice-skating, traditional dancing, baking, dressage, modelling, polo). In these scenes, the moments where she does show joy in the activity include her friends. Dancing becomes more appealing to her when she's competing with Maxwell, cooking and baking when she has someone to pamper with her food. She confesses to enjoying polo more after teaching the MC.

With the activities she loves doing, however, Hana is more involved, more expressive. She shows a range of emotions and is a lot more talkative on the subject of playing piano, or books, or flowers, or tasting good food.

None of these sequences mention her eyes much, but you can differentiate by her reactions what she loves and what she does not. She becomes emotional while talking about her connection to music (specifically piano), gazes in wonder with the MC as the moonflower unfurls, whispers excitedly and conspirationally about reading Wuthering Heights in secret, and does a 'happy dance' in her seat at the simple joy of tasting a french fry dipped in her milkshake. When Hana is excited about the things she is doing, she seems to be a different person altogether.

Where Do I Go From Here?

Prior to her journey in Cordonia, Hana had always assumed that the skills she was pushed into learning were all she would need. She had expectations to fulfill, she had a future mapped out for her, and her aim in life amounted to that future becoming a reality and her life as the wife of a nobleman being set. Because she grew up with the notion that her needs were deterrents to her aim, rather than an aim in and of itself, it never really occured to her to think any differently.

Which was why she was unable to properly answer Peter when he asked her if she loved him. Which was why she constantly assumed that no matter how many Pinstop boards she made, her wedding plans would happen the way her parents wanted it to happen. Because she spent long enough believing what she wanted didn't matter, it took her a while to even be able to discover what she wanted, much less articulate it.

Hana's background made her acquisition of skills that would appeal particularly to aristocrats essential. As a woman who has some Cordonian noble blood in her (through her mother) but may be at a disadvantage because she may not have a title of her own, her parents' expectations had always been focused on ensuring a marriage to a titled, reputed noble who could not just look after Hana but provide her the kind of status and stature in society that (I'm guessing here) her mother may have lost in marrying a foreign businessman. They were clear about the direction they wanted Hana's future to go in, and prepared her only for that kind of future.

In the old, hierarchical Cordonia, perhaps Hana would have been well prepared enough. A Cordonia where she was expected to be the perfect hostess and giving wife all rolled in one, where her skills would equip her for the occasional court activity and increased possibilities for hosting. But post the Homecoming Ball, there has been a phenomenal shift: she is in a position of power at court (even more so if she is marrying the MC), in a country torn apart by civil strife and filled with citizens who do not feel safe and are therefore wary of the monarchy's ability to protect them. The skills she learned were meant for activities suited to court and an aristocratic home, but what matters now is what she has to offer outside of court.

For the first time Hana has to now think of what she can give to the country that has given her refuge and a sense of freedom, and she is now confronted with how little her upbringing has actually prepared her for this. Cordonia's well-being is incredibly important to her, and now more than ever she needs to prove to herself - as much to everyone else - that she can be an asset.

Some of her skills do come into use: particularly her penchant for negotiation and now her proficiency with polo, but how long are her particular talents going to prove useful and at what point will Cordonia see how ill-equipped she feels, with regards to handling this situation?

I would argue that even within this, it's possible to see that she has gifts beyond just the things she has learned. As I have specified earlier, this scene not only highlights how talented a polo player she is, but also that she has an eye for what will appeal to people and encourage them to get involved. She has oftentimes managed to help the MC secure allies by paying attention to the other person's needs and passing that information on to the MC (funnily enough, in all of these instances it is Hana who does the research and coaches the MC, and it is largely the MC who reaps the benefits and gets the credit). While this may not seem like a skill in and of itself, it is a pretty strong foundation for other, newer skills that she can use to help Cordonia.

Hana is often seen measuring her usefulness, and her skills, by whatever goal she has set herself out to achieve. She considers herself a failure when - despite her talents - she is unable to get/sustain a match. Right now her goal is to be a useful citizen, to help Cordonia out of its crisis, and this doubt manifests itself in this question: "Are the skills I have enough to save Cordonia? Am I enough?"

Romance

(The first two screenshots are from @kennaxval s playthrough, and the third is from the Abhirio YouTube channel)

As with Liam's Diplomacy scene, most of the romance emerges from the MC's choices rather than as a part of the default narrative.

The romance options are interesting, particularly in terms of timing and placement. All three of them revolve around the MC's desire to be a little playful, to distract Hana and get her to relax when she overthinks. The MC balances her out: she is playful to Hana's serious, gut-instinct to Hana's strategy. She gets Hana to think beyond the logistics of the activity and to enjoy what she's doing.

However, there is one problem.

The above options present themselves at a crucial point in the conversation between Hana and the MC, where Hana is unsure about what she'd like to try out if she could choose to do something she loves. In both the LI and non-LI scenarios, the "full-time best friend" is given as a choice. This makes plenty sense in the non-LI playthrough, and very little in the LI one because "best friend" doesn't even begin to cover what Hana represents to her fiancèe now.

The major problem here lies more in what has been left out in this scene. So far, Hana's future in both playthroughs have remained largely the same. Like Drake, she may acquire a title when she marries the MC. Unlike Drake, she doesn't get the opportunity in the narrative to ask questions about her future position as duchess, which is strange considering that it is so extensively analyzed in the Drake LI playthrough.

In Drake's playthrough, they discuss his upcoming new position as a Duke, his discomfort in being part of the nobility that had shunned him for so long, his need to be taken seriously in court as the MC's future husband, what he wants to do with his title, his need to provide for and protect his future wife and children. There are a number of stumbling blocks in his way, the biggest being the class barrier and how the court sees him.

Hana's marriage to the MC has, in contrast, only been discussed in the first two chapters, where she worries that she is imposing her desires and dreams on the MC and not adequately listening to her partner. This would have been perfect, had the MC not become a duchess and was not such a prominent political figure in Cordonia.

Ideally, Hana's playthrough should involve discussions on what her marriage to the MC should entail. This would include the following:

1. In what ways has her training prepared - and not prepared - Hana for this role?

2. In their first conversation with Neville and Rashad, the MC has the option of promoting Hana's advantage as a suitor primarily by extolling her skills as a hostess and housewife. Very little mention at this point is made of Hana actually running an estate. This is an arrangement that I'm sure Hana and the MC will never adopt in their marriage, considering Hana wants to be more involved, and the MC sees her as an equal in their relationship. It is not entirely clear whether there is a distinction, given that the only aristocratic women we have seen are largely heirs to their estates - Adeleide, Madeleine (to her county Fydelia), Emmeline, Olivia.

3. Shouldn't we have a discussion, then, on how her skills will translate into running their estate? What can she do to make Valtoria better than what it was earlier? How will they manage to run things and revive this duchy? What are their plans?

4. In keeping with her potential future crisis point, why do we not see Hana giving us a clear idea of whether she can run the duchy or not? Like Drake, her future is uncertain if she does not marry the MC, so both their efforts are channeled towards helping Liam and/or Cordonia. If they are married to the MC, both Drake and Hana face differing conflicts with regards to becoming landed nobility. Both deserve to be discussed in depth.

5. With reference to the above option list given, why can there not be an option for "duchess"? Why is she still "professional best friend", when Hana's closest friend in their circle is the MC herself, and their relationship involves a bigger role once they get married?

6. What Hana can do for Cordonia as a Duchess is also a question that needs to be raised in the story. It would still fit in with her overall narrative arc, but it would also present different issues and avenues compared to what she can do as a member of the MC's court.

Overall, I feel that while Hana has an interesting character arc in this book overall, it isn't being explored as extensively as it deserves to be, and doesn't seem very different from a non-LI playthrough of her story.

Sources:

"How to Ride a Half-Pass", by Denise Cummins from The Thinking Equestrian website.

Special thanks to @kennaxval and the Abhirio YouTube channel (@abhirio) for screenshots from their Hana-centric playthroughs.

[washdayradionetwork]

His Yoke Is Easy from The Messiah by George Friderich Handel, The Academy of St. Martin In the Fields, conducted by Sir Neville Marriner: I've posted before about one of my most influential choral conductors, who once told me that, "Handel was a German who wrote Italian operas for the English."

He meant far more than English audiences.

It is beyond curious that a race of people so determined to avoid awkwardness that they make every moment more awkward, should interpret this portion of The Messiah with such unfettered joy, and defiance.

Speaking of awkward, the interwebs wil tell you that the lyric here reads, "His burthen is light". But, what is a "burthen"? Is it some kind of burqa for childbearing women? For newborn babies? Or, is it simply some rotten ingredient in the word salad of some semi-literate gatekeeper?

Who knows? Maybe the English was baroque-en.

The truth is, if you want any sense of what these lyrics mean, you have to go to the source -- Jesus Himself, as quoted in Matthew 11:28-30.

Now that you get it, click the link, and crank it up. For your sweater-knitting auntie, for your bullet-journaling frenemy, for every "25 Things ..." blog post, for the Nazis past and present, play this one loud.

Merry Christmas, Baby, Otis Redding: In a season that's so often about temporary glitz and empty promises, it's good to remember that it's not Christmas unless it's got soul.

Redding doesn't bother to hide his anguish here. He's clearly thinking of other Christmases that weren't so merry, wondering if this one, too, will evaporate before his eyes. For someone like this, you shouldn't say it if you don't mean it.

What Child Is This, Paul Horn: With a choir of soprano, alto, and bass flutes, and a primitive octave splitter called a Multivider, jazz titan, Paul Horn (Chico Hamilton Quintet), created one of the least-known but most enduring holiday albums ever recorded.

The big reverb and parallel fifths would put this right at home on any Game of Thrones soundtrack, while the Scotch snaps in the bass give it a sort of traditional Christmas feel. But, his articulation -- so liquid he could almost be scatting -- puts the stamp of a jazzer all over this piece. The whole album is like this -- a heady brew of musical influences.

Christmas In Hollis, Run-D.M.C.: I'm hardly a connoisseur of this genre. What I do remember is this: While the media threatened us with nightmare images of wilding teens, and super predators, super-strengthened by crack, or angel dust, or ... whatever, Run-D.M.C. presented  an almost-suburban story of naughty elves, a Christmas miracle, and as much traditional, Southern food as you could eat.

What followed years later was the discrediting of some doctoral candidate's super-predator theory, the acquittal of the so-called Central Park five, and the international exposure of Donald Trump, whose newspaper fanned the flames, as a liar, a bigot, and full-time attention-seeker.

Meanwhile, Run-D.M.C. are probably home for Christmas, rejoicing because they know exactly what's on the menu.

Drosselmeyer's Gifts from The Nutcracker, L'Orchestre de la Suisse Romande conducted by Ernest Ansermet: Let's, once and for all, abandon the notion that The Nutcracker is merely bland, holiday fare for the kiddies. Russian culture -- about which Russia's president seems entirely clueless -- won't let you have that. And it shouldn't.

See, sometimes, we expect more than we should from mere human effort. Sometimes, gifts offer us more fear and frustration than uncomplicated joy.

These are probably good things to remember for those who celebrate the birth of someone who promised, "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free."

Christmastime Is Here, Vince Guaraldi Trio (above): Maybe it's that the melody starts on a note that begs to be resolved. Maybe it's the fact that they never quite hit the high notes on the head. In other words, maybe there was a method to Vince Guaraldi's madness.

None of that satisfactorily explains how a genius of cool jazz got a group of kids to deliver a performance suffused with melancholy.

Way back in 1965, The Vince Guaraldi Trio, and a handful of kids figured out how to say, in the language of music, exactly what Christmas means to some of us. I see you, Linus, and this performance gives me chills every time I hear it.

Gaudete, Steeleye Span: Ah, the 70s!

There's a corner of Twitter where people whose gravest concern was having zits for the Homecoming dance, tell themselves scary stories of How Bad It Was back then, assuming that all who read these dystopian fantasies not only Know What Is Meant, but agree wholeheartedly, with an accompanying shiver down their spines.

Personally, I liked it just fine when kids didn't kill other kids for shutting them out of the in crowd, and English folk rockers could sing a carol about Jesus's birth, a capella, in Latin, taking it to Number 1 on the charts, albeit in their home country.

Do They Know It's Christmas, Band Aid: When this single was released, I was deeply moved, as were many.

Older, ostensibly wiser friends strove to burst my bubble. They counseled that Band Aid's efforts were useless, that food sat rotting on the docks because the organizers hadn't the brains to do it right. Work harder, they said. Make money and spend it. There is nothing else. Your heroes are hopelessly filthy.

No.

See, we have no right to expect humans and human effort to be perfect. Purity culture was as ugly then as it is now.

There's more to life than getting and spending, and Band Aid proves it. The initial effort served as the springboard for major charitable projects by Bob Geldof, Midge Ure, and Bono -- efforts that continue to this day.

"We let in light, and we banish shade", the song goes. It's not just talking about flipping a switch.

Beautiful Star Of Bethlehem, Dailey and Vincent: Number One with a bullet -- or, maybe, it's a Bible. And why?

Because too many conservatives are dreading any kind of overtly-religious end to this countdown, even as they exploit the religious right in a last-ditch effort to grab more money, more power.

Forget about it.

See, physics may be the reason for the season, but Jesus is the reason Christians call it Christmas. All the ideological squeamishness (read: hypocrisy) on conservatives' part won't change that.

So, Merry Christmas, or Happy Holidays -- take your pick. May the coming year give you enough courage to use the holiday greetings your conscience dictates, no matter who else is listening.

[thevagabondlog]

Ive been staring at this blank page for an hour now. I haven’t written a shred of anything in close to a year, but I feel like the current set of circumstances right now dictate it. Hermes guides me. I haven’t even written a draft by hand like I normally do, Im just letting this come out and it feels great.

The last two, maybe even three years of my strange trip on this planet have been such a surreal high paced blur. Ive come to realize that I do too much in too short a time, too many places visited, people met, things done in the dead of night and the overwhelming heat of the day. A few strings busted, a few hearts broken. Nothing out of the ordinary except the fact that my address is still changing every month and I’m still getting lost daily, both in reality and in my mind. Not that I’d change it for the world. I don’t even know who exactly reads this garbage but if you still are, know this is going to be a long one. Ive got a lot on my mind, time is on my side and there’s nowhere I need to be.

Everyday in the Caribbean is incredibly hot and sticky. Every night is mysterious and romantic.

Writing this is simultaneously difficult and surprisingly easy. Its difficult to explain whats been shredding through my head the last few months or however bloody long. Since I last attempted to write, if you can call it that, Ive since been through a serious and drama filled breakup with my long term girlfriend back home, been to seven countries including South Africa ( more on that later ), morphed back into the older Joshua Palmer and basically been running a permanent anarchic riot around the world. As I write now, its once again a hot day in the Bahamas and my head is still swirling with Ricardo Black Rum from the previous night. Special Edition, of course.

Church of the Open Sky.

April 5 - April 26, three weeks back in the motherland after more than a year and a half overseas. A lot of expectations held, almost none of them met. Im not quite sure why, but looking back now in June I realize i didn’t enjoy my stay there at all. Highlights include seeing my parents again (they wept) and one or two close friends who I’m not even sure are still friends at this stage. I came to realize I hate most of the people that fill up my tiny coastal hometown, largely due to the fact that they’re all hypocritical judgmental small minded people who have never been anywhere farther than the gas station in the next town. Keep in mind that these are the same people that said I’d never amount to anything and Id be back home after a month of failed traveling searching for a job running a yacht. Choke on your words. Anyhow, I also got told numerous times that I’d changed completely, becoming much more ‘arrogant’, ‘rude’, ‘insensitive’ etc to the people around me. I suppose in a way I was, but then everyone back in that place is easily offended and so narrow minded it makes me want to shoot myself. I suppose Im much happier over here, on my own and fending for myself, in foreign countries where I don’t know anyone, and all I know is where North-East is. The entire time I was back there, I couldn’t wait to come back to the West Indies. It feels good getting these thoughts down, they’ve been bouncing around my head for too long now.

I was dancing with some girl in a club a month or two ago and in-between reggaetron and soca she asked me a question no one has ever asked before: “Where do you consider home?” I really don’t know. Definitely not back in my hometown, I don’t plan on setting foot in that place for another twenty years at least. Its not on the boat either, nor on any of the islands. Id have to say home is wherever I feel alive the most. Which just so happens to be fifteen feet underwater looking up.

May 4 - Twentieth birthday in Georgetown, Exumas, Bahamas. Largely uneventful, frankly boring and unsatisfying. Mind you I was working at the time so of course the celebrations were minimal to non existent.

January 2017 - Current.

Adopted really strange sleeping patterns similar to a Russian insomniac writer fighting his bouts of suicidal depression with vodka and pharmaceuticals. I don’t know what this stems from other than my erratic lifestyle of mainly working onboard the entire day and still getting drunk at local bars into the early hours of every new day.

Right now its summer and every heat wave day is longer than the last.

I have lost interest in a lot of people who I once thought important. I do not know if this is selfish on my part or all just part of moving around constantly, or just one of those things you deal with as you get older. I have been told numerous times that I’m not going to make it past thirty, and for some reason or other I’m embracing the thought. Go out in a strange and mysterious accident of sorts somewhere out at sea, that place that once gave birth to me. Ill let you know.

For the past few weeks I have also had these increasingly frequent urges to just pack up, delete my Facebook and go completely off the grid, getting lost in strange and exotic foreign places. Lawrence of Arabia in Morocco. Not knowing the unknown is turning me on more and more everyday, as well as the idea of just giving the finger to all the people back home who are getting married young, stuck in nine-to-fives that they hate, and coming home to deal with the mortgage and car insurance people. I left the country the first time with no actual plan, one bag and sixty dollars in my pocket and I don’t regret a single moment. And I don't mean all those cliche travel pictures and utter bullshit you see on social media telling you to just ‘pack up and go’, I mean actually deserting myself. Exile on Main St. Highway Child. Midnight Rambler.

The lust for this has never been greater. I keep asking myself just what is holding me back?

My biggest fear is living a life just like everyone else, a life that no one remembers. Why should I listen to any authority or second guess myself? Time will tell and hopefully sooner or later. And if I’m not mistaken, and I surely hope not, I may have found someone to do it with. A woman unlike anyone else Ive met or ever known before. A woman who, somehow exceeds everything I think about her constantly and is basically the exact fibre of my dream girl since I was fifteen. Physically outrageous, a beautiful figure. Mentally, she keeps me on my toes only because I hope to somehow match her standards. Well travelled and with such an eerily alike mind to my own its more than possible we were once together in an earlier life. My best efforts of a description is a glorious hybrid of a gypsy, voodoo witch, mermaid, and the Goddess Aphrodite all in one. With a sprinkling of a rebellious 1960’s mindset which only turns me on further. Making love to her only broke my mind in two and made me question everything. She’s everything I ever wanted from every rock and roll song Ive listened to, and she’s in all of them. And believe it or not I only knew her for three days before she flew off again, once more traveling. While Im starting to feel a little stuck in this place. Most would say Im crazy, but I already knew that.

I do wonder what, and how exactly she’s had such an effect on me. It makes me look back at every other girl I’ve ever been with and realize that they do not even come close to her or the psycho-electric effect she has on me. And if you know me, you’d know I dont feel like this to anyone, ever. She’s touched me deep down, and the next few months or years or whatever only promise to be very exciting.

Im trying, and not succeeding very well, to look back at everything over the past few months and years, if you couldn’t tell by now. How many people did I meet for five minutes and never see again? Friends or lovers for one night and then gone the next day never to be seen? I look at what all my ‘friends’ are doing back home, studying in their first or second year. My best friend living with his fiancee and hating every second, constant fighting and the such but too scared to leave because he believes he loves her and well, believes he cant do any better. In love with the security and constant hard work I suppose. A friend through the grapevine told me recently that he has lost respect for me and hates the lifestyle I live. I wont lie and tell you I wasn’t hurt or taken aback. We’ve spent four years together, done much, and always confided in one another. Is he jealous of the knowledge that Im traveling the world, free and easy, able to go to the bar every night and dance with exotic girls while he is forced to come home after work to a nagging unloving bitch that makes his life hell? He would never admit that. Im not scared to tell it exactly how it is though. Another trait passed on to me from my father, whom I miss so.

If I had never made the decision to leave all those months ago would I be in the same position as my friend right now? Maybe. More than likely, I was in a long term relationship with someone I thought I loved, about to get sucked into that domesticated world before I jumped ship. Haven’t seen her since actually. Thanks for the memories girl, but you weren’t for me.

Life would be very different and it would bore me to death. I prefer dying in other ways in places where no one understands English.

Now my thoughts go back to my unbiological sister, we once were very close. Always looking after one another, often mistaken to be a couple but not. I thought I was in love with her too, but she’s changed so dramatically in the time I was away I hardly recognized her anymore during my homecoming visit. She lied to me many times in those three weeks, thinking I wouldn’t find out, and probably still thinking Im ignorant. Makes me wonder why we are like we are. She told me I changed a lot too and I’m no longer the Josh she knew, that I’ve grown cold and distant. Well look at yourself babe, can you really blame me? Its only further cemented my belief that you need to keep moving forward in such a way that they will never trap you or hold you down, until finally you find someone that you want to be trapped with. You know who you are.

“I thought you needed my lovin’, But it’s my heart that you stole. I thought you wanted my money, But you plundered my soul.”

[lovey0u]

sorry about homecoming, don't worry about it too much, she wants what's best for you

Aw you’re sweet ❤️ My mom wanted me to go too lol, but none of my friends wanted to. + we do live reeaally far from the stadium and she was tired from running around all day getting things done, so I understand why she didn’t want to get up to drive me. It was just a bummer that I didn’t end up going to either the game or the dance, but it’s okay c'est la vie :)