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emerald-studies · 4 years ago

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Racist Clothing Brands + Black Brands to Buy From Instead:

Racist Brands

Chanel

Chanel has been repeatedly accused of racially profiling Black customers and last year they hired a white woman as head of their "diversity and inclusion" department.

Gucci

Gucci has a complicated history with the Black community, stemming from them all but trying to destroy Dapper Dan's business only to hire him two decades later. Most recently they came under fire for releasing a sweater that had suspiciously Blackface elements and stealing designs from Black designers.

Prada

Prada has a similar history and they recently had to apologize after releasing a collection of monkey key chains.

Dior

Dior's most recent fragrance campaign came under fire for racist undertones but a Black Hollywood stylist also gave BET.com an account of an incident that she had with a brand. The stylist requests to remain anonymous says, "they compromised our creative relationship by not following through on requests and instead loaning looks that were promised to me to white actors instead."

Celine

Celine's branding is notoriously extremely thin and extremely white. A quick scroll of their social media will reveal exactly their opinion on Black lives.

Barney’s

Before going bankrupt, Barney's had to pay out a settlement in a racial discrimination case of $525k to two plantiffs.

Moda Operandi

A former employee of the company released this thread on Moda Operandi, citing several micro aggressions she suffered there.

Burberry

Burberry issued an apology after releasing a sweater featuring a noose motif.

Tommy Hilfiger

In 1996, Tommy Hilfiger famously made comments against the Black community and has since clarified what he meant, but the hurt in the community lingers.

Moschino

Managers discriminated against black customers who did not appear to be rich or famous.

“If a potential black client was not a celebrity and did not have an outward appearance of money via diamonds or name brands, defendant [Ranna] Selbak called them a ‘Serena’ to other sales associates and wanted the ‘Serena’ to be closely watched,” according to the complaint.

Versace

A former male Versace employee sued Versace for allegedly firing him after his manager realized he was Black.

Zara

Zara was accused of using racial code words for black and Latinx customers. The Center for Popular Democracy surveyed 251 Zara employees in New York City about the retailer’s practices. Poll respondents said that when the term “special order” was used at the store, employees were to find the location of the shoppers in question and follow them around. Black customers were most often described as “special orders,” according to the survey results.

Reformation

They were criticised for their internal practices by a black former employee, Elle Santiago. Santiago said she was denied work promotions in favor of white colleagues, as well as being ignored by the company founder, Yael Aflalo, because of her race.

“Being overlooked and undervalued as a woman of color who worked and managed their flagship store for three years was the hardest,” Santiago wrote in an Instagram post picked up by industry watchdog Diet Prada. “I cried many times knowing [that] the color of my skin would get me nowhere in the company.”

Urban Outfitters

“As one of very few PoC [people of color] I quickly noticed the toxic environment I’d joined,” says the former employee, who wishes to remain anonymous. “Within my first month my manager made a flippant racist comment in regards to an Uber I’d called; the driver’s name was Muhammad. Her comment was, ‘You would get a Muhammad’ – in what I can only take as a comment made because of my heritage.

“There’s no PoC in the executive team and very little representation of PoC in head office, on the website, marketing campaigns and within the retail management teams.”

The company has a history of producing offensive items of clothing, including a seemingly blood-spattered T-shirt seen as a reference to the 1970 Kent State shootings; a T-shirt in a color named “Obama/Black”; another featuring a six-pointed badge, which seemed to allude to the Star of David badge that Jewish people were forced to wear during the Holocaust; and a racially insensitive Navajo line which used the Navajo nation name illegally.

Dolce & Gabbana

Ads, featured a Chinese woman struggling to eat spaghetti and pizza with chopsticks.

Comme des Garçons

White models wore wigs of traditional Black people’s hairstyles during its men’s autumn/winter 2020 show.

BLACK BRANDS

ASATA MAISE

This designer transforms vintage fabrics into unique pieces that are made to be photographed. I mean, this whole slideshow of looks is A-R-T. Of course, being a one-person business can be overwhelming, so if you have the means, you can donate to Asata's GoFundMe which will provide her with equipment to keep up with demand.

Website: asatamaise.com

MIE

If dreamy, flowy dresses are up your alley, you definitely want to give this brand a follow. All the pretty pieces, including this stunning red puff-sleeve number, are made by local seamstresses and artisans in Lagos, Nigeria where it's based.

Website: mie.ng

JBD Apparel

Kim Kardashian recently gave this brand a shoutout, and it's easy to see why she's a fan of these body-hugging knit sets. All the pieces are handmade to order.

Website: jbdapparel.com

PHLEMUNS

Another celeb fave is this gender-neutral brand designed by James Flemons and based out in Los Angeles. Solange Knowles, Lizzo, Billie Eilish, Clairo, Lil Nas X, Miley Cyrus, and Bella Hadid have all worn its designs.

Website: phlemuns.com

RIOT SWIM

Looking for a truly standout swimwear piece to add to your summer wardrobe? Check out this label designed by Monti Landers featuring minimalistic silhouettes and shades that blend in seamlessly with darker skin tones.

Website: riotswim.com

COME BACK AS A FLOWER

Specializing in hand-dyed garments, the pieces are ethically made using 100 percent recycled cotton. It also does drops of cool vintage tees, and stars like ASAP Rocky and Big Sean have worn its clothes.

Website: cbaaf.org

HUMANS BEFORE HANDLES

This jewelry label has some of the cutest accessories for summer (eyeing these seashell ones, wow), and most impressive is the fact that everything is under $50.

Website: humansbeforehandles.com

LAQUAN SMITH

Here’s a real celeb fave (Rihanna, Beyoncé, and sooo many more have worn his pieces). Go to LaQuan Smith for any of your glam/sexy outfit needs, please!

Website: laquansmith.com

BROTHER VELLIES

Founder Aurora James creates truly one-of-a-kind shoes (please look at this pair of mesh boots topped with feathers) and small leather goods that are handmade by artisans around the world.

Website: brothervellies.com

CUSHNIE

Designer Carly Cushnie’s sleek styles have been worn by the likes of Jennifer Lopez, Ashley Graham, and Lupita Nyong’o, btw.

Website: cushnie.com

JADE SWIM

Need a swimsuit? You’re going to want one of these pretty, minimal designs by former fashion editor and stylist Brittany Kozerski.

Website: jadeswim.com

CHRISTOPHER JOHN ROGERS

The 26-year-old designer from Louisiana was one of the hottest tickets at New York Fashion Week in February 2020, and high-profile ladies like Michelle Obama and Cardi B. have worn his unique, colorful pieces. Find his clothing exclusively at Net-a-Porter online.

Website: christopherjohnrogers.com

MATEO NEW YORK

Matthew Harris of Mateo New York is a self-taught jewelry designer hailing from Montego Bay, Jamaica, and living in NYC. Shop here for beautifully minimal 14k-gold fine jewelry.

Website: mateonewyork.com

TELFAR

Looking for something truly magical and out there? Consider designer Telfar Clemens, whose hybrid pieces (hello, “sweatpant jeans” and “scarf-collar shirt”) really stand out.

Website: telfar.net

FENTY

DUH.

Website: fenty.com

PYER MOSS

Founded by designer Kerby Jean-Raymond in 2013, Pyer Moss uses its platform for social change, storytelling, and activism as well as art and design. For shopping, come for the bright, matching suits, glam, and pleated gowns and stay for comfy sweats and jeans.

Website: pyermoss.com

+ More Brands Here +

#blm #gucci #urban outfitters #black lives matter #black brands #black owned #tommy hilfiger #dolce and gabbana #zara #chanel #versace #juneteenth

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bullyingbatman · 3 years ago

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the night market

wrote a weird cass-centric urban fantasy au snippet & it wasn't complete enough to post on ao3 so here y'all can have whatever this is

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Cass slips down the side of the brick wall into the alley below, her presence no more than a rustle of the wind. One end of the alley is a dead end, and in the back of her mind she logs it as a potential escape route, while beyond the other is the hustle and bustle of the Night Market. Behind her, Stephanie emerges from the shadows, hovering at her elbow. Her fingers brush against Cass’ hoodie, a silent I’ve got your back. Cass appreciates it. She checks to make sure her mask– black, expressionless, featureless except for the glowing white eyes– is fixed firmly on her face, pulls up her hood, and steps out into the light.

The Night Market is bright, full of red and gold lantern-light, and packed with figures. It’s hard to distinguish anything about anyone here at first glance, all of them draped in formless, oversized clothing, hoodies and cloaks and coats, obscuring any identifying details. Then there are the masks– horrid wooden things, each one painted with its own unique design. Over there, a black-and-white mask grins, its owner leering wherever they turn; manning a stall, a yellow face weeps bloody tears, mouth open in an eternal scream. The Night Market, for most, is a confusing and disorienting experience.

For Cass, it is anything but.

She recognises people by their gaits, the ways they twist and turn; a man dressed in monochrome with a mask painted with cawing ravens is Mr Porter from the library, the young woman dressed in green-yellow-red, mask painted with thick goggles, is her brother’s drama teacher. She weaves in and out of the crowd, finding herself assured as she brushes off calls from vendors. There are no secrets from Cass, not in the Night; she’s one of the few people here who can see through the masquerade.

As she approaches the edge of the Market, the stalls give way to buildings, seedy bars and ramshackle dives. She spins around and finds the one she’s looking for– a single doorway on a stone wall not even three feet wide between two wooden buildings, covered by a ragged red curtain. She beelines towards it, Stephanie hot on her heels as she ducks inside.

The inside, as expected, is much larger than the doorway implies, stretching out into an average-sized bar. It’s relatively busy, tables filled with masked individuals sharing drinks or playing games or having hushed discussions. She ignores all of them and heads to the bar.

“Well, if it isn’t Spooky Girl!” the bartender says. His mask is red-and-white polkadots, like a pale face covered in raw poxes. “You’re back again?” Cass doesn’t reply, simply fixing him with her mask’s blank expression. “Lemme guess, you wanna see the boss.” She remains silent; he sighs. “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Cass is waiting for five minutes, during which time the bartender– Cass has never met him in the day, doesn’t know his name, and knows better than to ask– gives her a coke to sip on. Finally, from the stairs at the back, the man she came to see emerges, glares at her from behind red wood, and gestures harshly with his head.

Cass gets to her feet and follows him upstairs.

The upstairs room is smaller than the bar below, a bare-bones bedroom with a bed in one corner, set of drawers, a desk, and a window-seat. Jason sits down on the window-seat and folds his arms, scowling at her from behind his mask.

“Did you have to bring her with you?” he asks, pointing at Steph.

Steph scowls back. “Well, nice to see you too,” she mutters.

“Creep,” Jason shoots back.

“Stop,” Cass says, and they do. “Spoiler is a friend,” she says to Jason.

Jason ignores her, changing the topic. “Why are you here? And it better not be because he sent you.” Cass doesn’t reply, and he groans. “Seriously, Orphan? You’re still doing his bidding?”

Cass doesn’t like his tone. “I do what I want,” she shoots back. Then, more softly, “He is worried.”

Jason snorts disbelievingly. Cass almost can’t blame him. Almost.

“Yeah? I want to hear that from him.”

“You know he can’t come here.”

That makes Jason pause. “Wait, seriously? That wasn’t some kind of trick?” Cass shakes her head, and he lets out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s stupid, even for him.”

Cass sighs. “Please,” she says. “He wants to talk.”

Jason stares at her for a long moment. “I’ll think about it,” he finally relents. Cass can see, with some surprise, that he actually will. Something about the bent of his shoulders. “Is that all?”

Cass considers for a moment. “Be careful,” she says. “Some people downstairs… they’re up to no good.”

A snort. “Yeah, I dunno if you noticed, but this place ain’t exactly the Ritz.”

She glares. “Serious.”

He sobers at that. “I’ll keep an eye out. Thanks, Orphan.”

She nods in farewell, and turns back down the stairs. She slips out of the bar without a stir, and Steph says, “That went surprisingly well.”

Cass nods thoughtfully. “I think he’ll come.”

“You do?” Steph seems surprised. “Damn. Then again, I guess B really messed up this time, huh?”

He really had, Cass thinks, as she heads back through the market to the alleyway she’d passed through on the way here. “Things are in the air,” she says, after a moment, gesturing with one hand. “It will be… interesting. Where dust settles.”

“Remind me to get the popcorn,” Steph jokes. They arrive at the dead-end wall Cass had noticed before, and sure enough, she feels the familiar prickle of an exit. This one isn’t on their maps; she’ll have to get Tim or Barbara to update them. She glances up at Stephanie, who grins at her, clicking her tongue and doing some kind of half-salute, half-finger guns gesture. Cass smiles back at her best friend, despite knowing that she won’t see it through the mask, and passes through the gateway.

Gotham at night is much quieter than Gotham at Night, and Cass knows she has to be careful; she doesn’t want to be caught breaking curfew, after all. Hiding in the alley, she carefully takes off her mask, wrapping it with cloth before fixing it on her belt. She can feel Stephanie’s presence at her heels, even if she can no longer see her, and so indicates her path before she takes it, looking up before she begins to scale the fire escape.

At this point in her life, Cass thinks could cross Gotham at night in her sleep. She makes it back to the Clocktower just as the sky is beginning to grey with pre-dawn light, and is halfway to her room when she hears a pointed cough and freezes in places. She feels a phantom tap on her wrist, and can practically hear Stephanie whispering, “Busted.”

She turns to see Barbara sat in the high-backed chair by the computer, one eyebrow raised. “What time do you call this, young lady?” she asks.

(Cass thinks that Barbara is not that much older than her, but she holds her tongue; she knows better than to try her older sister-slash-adoptive mother’s patience.)

“Early,” says Cass, who doesn’t actually know what time it is.

Babs does not look amused. “I told you I didn’t want you going out after curfew,” she says sharply. “Especially after all the disappearances lately.” Her eyes land on the mask on Cass’ hip, and her expression sours further. “Seriously, Cass? You know what I said–”

“I just went to the Market,” Cass says. “I saw Jason.”

Babs pauses. “Jason?”

Cass nods. “Bruce… wanted to see him.”

Barbara’s eye twitches. “And he sent you?”

“I offered.”

Barbara sighs. “You don’t owe him anything, Cass.”

She does, but she can’t expect Babs to understand. “I know,” she says instead. “I wanted to.”

Barbara shakes her head. “Go get some sleep,” she says.

Cass nods. She pads to her bedroom door, pausing outside and turning back to her mentor. “Am I in trouble?” she asks.

“I’ll think about it,” Babs says. Probably not, Cass concludes. “I meant it. Sleep.”

Cass nods. “I will. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She shuts the door behind her and leans against it with a sigh. She feels Steph’s presence at her side, exasperated and comforting and sheepish all at once, and she smiles at the space where her friend stands. Then, she pulls herself together, taking the mask from her hip and stashing it away again at the bottom of her drawer.

It’s brighter, outside, now, the faintest glimmer of gold on the horizon. Cass pauses by the window to take it in, feeling exhaustion creeping up on her. Even if she doesn't agree with Barbara’s other arguments against her nighttime excursions, she can at least agree that it leaves her spent. Well, she’ll do what she’s told for now. She yawns, turning away and pulling the curtains closed before collapsing into bed.

She’s asleep before her head even hits the pillow.

#my fic #batman #batfam #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #jason todd

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signedaiko · 3 years ago

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Can i get a TFP both bot and con platonic matchup request,if you're okay with,thanks :D

I'm 163cm (5'3ft) Asian with tanned skin,black a bit messy curly hair(i always tied my hair as a ponytail) Also i have a pair of glasses

I'm INTJ 300%introverted a bit social anxiety I don't talk much,But I'm a good advicer(sounds like INFJ but I'm not) and also good at figuring things out or even planning strategic plans,I have a lot of common and uncommon knowledge,I don't really show much emotions except for some people,who i really close to,For appearance I quite melancholy and hard to get to know but once you know me I will always stand by you

I like doing digital arts(character design and full cg arts) and Origami(Japanese folding papers arts),I have Porter Robinson as my favourite artists and my music styles is mainly light EDM and Electro house

Note: I'm bisexual, please ignore spelling and grammer mistakes English isn't my first language

Thanks again for your time♡

You got…Bulkhead + Airachnid!

[With Bulkhead] He absolutely plays into the idea of wanting to learn to be more gentle and careful with things when he can. So your little origami tricks sweep him off of his feet, and eventually, you manage some strong enough poster paper that even he can fold! It's very cool seeing your own creations amplified in size by tenfold. When Wheeljack visits, he gets flustered really quickly because he doesn't like being all rough in front of you. He tries to reserve it for battle only. Bulkhead doesn't mind your shyness; in fact, it's kind of cute when he finds you huddled somewhere he can barely fit waiting for him. He is happy you never hide from him but expect him to eventually show up.

~~~~~~~~~

[With Airachnid] She basically picked you off the street like a stray cat one day, hoping to garner information to better hide from the humans. And while you were helpful like that, you also became like a bit of a hype woman. As trust built up, she began to make her home into your home as well; you even got a whole corner for art! Speaking of art, she loves it. Arachnid spends a lot of time reading, studying and indulging in the sciences, so it was never an aspect she saw much of in her entire life cycle. But something was comforting about glancing over to see whatever you are sketching out or painting. She doesn't understand your music much, but that's entirely because she prefers to hear you humming over any kind of electronic reproduction.

———-

Authors Note - I'm considering altering my match up options so I can do friend matchups too :) Normally with platonic, I got for the same vibe but minus romance and such but I think it'd be fun to give people besties and be more silly with it!

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #matchup

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years ago

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Michael in the Mainstream: Zack Snyder’s Justice League

Before we dive into this, I want to make a few things clear.

First, I actually did enjoy Josstice League. It certainly wasn’t anything game-changing or incredible, but it was a fun, cheesy, overly-expensive B-movie. It was like a Saturday morning cartoon come to life, a kid playing with their action figures and smashing them together, and in that sense it’s relatively enjoyable. It’s about as good as, say, Age of Ultron; it’s not a good film overall, but there are a lot of elements and scenes that make it worth a watch.

Second, I have a very love/hate relationship with Zack Snyder. I love 300 and its intense hmoeroticism as much as everyone else, and I really enjoyed Watchmen too, but everything he has done since Sucker Punch has really grated on me. Man of Steel was pretty average, and Dawn of Justice joined Sucker Punch on my list of my least favorite films of all time. Going in to his vision for Justice League, even if it was now uncompromised, I wasn’t exactly holding my breath for a quality Snyder experience.

But with both of those things in mind I still sat down and watched his version of Justice League, and I have to say that it absolutely blows the theatrical version of the film out of the water. Not only that, it is something I never thought I’d see again: A true Zack Snyder experience, for better or for worse. His version of Justice League is a fantastic film… but boy does it have the usual Snyder problems that make even some of his best work a hard sell.

Let’s just get the problems out of the way first. The biggest issue is the runtime. At four hours, this is a ridiculously long film; it is a director’s vision completely uncompromised. But it is that way to a fault. Zack Snyder is a man who has never been about brevity, which is fine, especially when he’s using the long runtime to make you actually care about these characters, but with his freedom to bring this to life he basically just left everything in. There are a lot of scenes that just do nothing but bloat the runtime and could have easily been removed for a more streamlined experience. For instance, the scene where Barry saves Iris (our introduction to him in this cut) is just really weird and unnecessary seeing as it introduces characters who never show up again, makes Barry look like a creep, and doesn’t establish him as well as the scene where he talks to his dad. The scenes early on with Diana, such as her stopping the terrorists or going into the ruins with the arrow, are cool enough but they could easily have been removed. Even the scene with Vulko could have been dropped with little lost, not to mention the weird scene of women singing about Aquaman. The first act is especially bogged down with scenes that really could have been trimmed without losing any character or story relevance.

Perhaps the most egregious scene that should have been cut is the weird Martian Manhunter reveal in the middle of the movie. While he certainly looks awesome, it just feels weird and unnecessary, especially when the scene he has in the epilogue is a much better use of him and feels a lot more in line with what superhero movies do. A good chunk of the first half of the movie is weighed down with this overindulgence, though that’s not to say any of this is bad, per se. This is just stuff that, when making a movie, you need to trim for the end product to be more engaging and streamlined.

Adding onto this is the dropping of every single thing the guy they brought in to replace Snyder filmed. Now, I’m all for erasing that guy’s contributions to film as much as possible, but the fact is he did add some good scenes to the movie, scenes that certainly could have been left in over the pointless “Barry saves Iris” scene or the Martian Manhunter midpoint cameo or really any moment Mera is in the film and not being annihilated by Steppenwolf. Hell, leaving in the Superman/Flash race in the epilogue would have been appreciated, though at the very least I’m happy I didn’t have to hear the word ‘brunch’ during this four hours (though I did have to hear far too much of that godawful ancient lamentation music whenever Diana so much as breathed onscreen).

But enough complaints! After we get out of the first few chapters, we get into the really good stuff. What this cut of the film does best is redeem characters who were maligned or underutilized in the theatrical version, with the two main redemptions belonging to the villain Steppenwolf and the hero Cyborg. Steppenwolf in the theatrical cut was little more than a cheesy, two-dimensional B-movie villain, and despite his crappy design he did have some charm to him. But in this film, I genuinely felt for the guy. He’s an incredibly tragic villain here, tirelessly slaving away in the hopes he can return home and please his master who does little but ignore him, instead having his middle man dismiss and berate Steppenwolf at every opportunity. It’s to the point you almost want him to wipe out humanity just so Darkseid will give him a break. Add onto that the fact that his new, spinier design looks a lot better, and they somehow managed to make a villain who was previously only a few hairs better than Malekith and somehow give him the gravitas and tragedy of Thanos. Well, maybe Diet Thanos, but Steppenwolf is still a really good villain now, seeing as the original movie’s Steppenwolf was basically Bootleg Thanos.

Then we have Cyborg. Cyborg is easily the best character in the film, and the fact they watered down Ray Fisher’s role in the theatrical cut is a crime against humanity. His character arc in this movie is nothing short of amazing, and he’s so compelling that sometimes you might just forget he’s mostly CGI. His relationship with his father, his tragic origin story… there’s so much that could be cut to streamline the movie, but if you cut any of Cyborg’s scenes, it would ruin the film. He’s really that good. There’s really not much else to say other than that he is a truly compelling character, and maybe even one of the best in superhero cinema.

Then we have new additions. Perhaps the best and most striking addition to the film is Ray Porter as galactic conqueror Darkseid. While he is used sparingly here, he is set up as an incredible threat, and is utterly terrifying every moment he’s onscreen. If they run with this guy, they almost certainly will unseat Thanos as the premier galactic villain in superhero cinema with Darkseid (as it should be; who do you think Thanos was ripping off in the first place?). Other additions, like Joker, are… a bit more complicated. Jared Leto’s appearance in the epilogue is still leagues better than he was in Suicide Squad, and I appreciate how he insults Amber Heard and also has some incredibly gay dialogue with Batman (all good Jokers get homoerotic with Batman, after all), but at the end of the day, it’s still Jared Leto, he’s still doing that weird laugh, and he still doesn’t bring much to the table in terms of Jokers. I don’t want to be too hard on him, though, because he has definitely improved, and his chemistry with Batman here is something I think a lot of cinematic Jokers are missing, so if they decide to run with this and keep something akin to this design I guess I can tolerate him coming back.

This movie is certainly not perfect. It could use some trimming in the beginning in particular, the Knightmare sequence is ridiculously indulgent, and the CGI isn’t always perfect (something more forgivable because a lot of work was done with less money and more restrictions due to Covid), not to mention that enormous length that would certainly scare off more casual viewers. It’s a hard sell to anyone who isn’t already invested. But I definitely think it’s worth giving a chance, because this really is the sort of film the Justice League deserves. It’s grand, it’s epic, it has compelling characters, it has a sympathetic and tragic villain, and it has one of the most incredible final battles in superhero cinema (and within that, perhaps the only thing that tops Quicksilver’s run through the mansion in Apocalypse as the greatest super speed moment on film). This is Zack Snyder at his best, and while there are still things that just didn’t work here, the overall product is what we as an audience deserved rather than the theatrical cut.

This isn’t the greatest superhero movie ever, of course, but I’d at least put it in the top twenty. I’m just honestly astounded… We live in a society where Zack Snyder is making good movies again. Good on you, Snyder. I did not expect this film to come even close to being good, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to have been proven wrong.

#Michael in the Mainstream #Review #movie review #zack snyder's justice league #DCEU #Superhero movie #zack snyder #The snyder cut #Batman #Superman #Wonder Woman #Cyborg #Flash #Aquaman

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ao3bronte · 4 years ago

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Mamma Mia AU [Part 6]

READ PART 5 HERE!

Take A Chance On Me

Six months later...

Never in her wildest dreams did Marinette expect to be sitting where she is now, dressed to the nines in one of her own highly sought after designs. Having just released her very first collection, M by MarinetteDesigns, at the beginning of December, all of her custom made prêt-à-porter fashions were flying off the racks. She’d even had to hire another seamstress just to get through the backlog of formal wear commissions that she’d received ever since Alya’s BuzzFeed friends set up her social media accounts and started repping her brand all over their articles and personal posts.

But more on that later.

At the moment, Marinette is sitting at a huge, zigzag communal table under the glassed-in rooftop patio on top of a boutique hotel in Le Marais, clapping her hands and cheering as the two people she never thought she’d see together emerge from behind closed doors hand in hand. Jagged Stone performs an epic guitar solo from the platform as Luka picks up his new bride and spins her around, grinning like a maniac.

The wedding itself is a completely bombastic affair with celebrities and the like sneaking here and there to avoid the paparazzi. Marinette feels like a kid in a candy store as Luka’s guests file in left and right, most of them artists and bands she loves to listen to. And his bride, of course, doesn’t have much of her family along for the wedding. The media backlash from her mother’s empire had been outlandish, especially in Japan, but she’d ended up fitting right in with most of Luka’s ragtag group of friends in Los Angeles. With the help of her new husband and their support circle, she’d risen above the controversy and won the Olympic gold medal in fencing, bringing honour to herself for the first time in her life.

Sporting a gorgeous red rose tattoo on her upper arm, Kagami Tsuguri Couffaine turns around and gives everyone that trademark smirk of hers, welcoming them to their reception. Luka can’t keep his hands off of her, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull when she plunks her leg up onto the chair she’s supposed to be sitting on and demands he take her garter off with his teeth. The partygoers roar as Luka does just that, emerging victorious with a red and navy strap of fabric hanging from his canines.

Satisfied with his performance, Kagami calls all of the single and unmarried ladies attending her wedding to the platform and waves her rose and orchid bouquet over her head for the traditional toss. Hoping to avoid the pitying glances, Marinette pretends to be completely consumed by her emails and ducks her head in the hopes that no one will notice her. She would have been successful too, had it not been for the exchange of raised eyebrows and playful glances between the bride, the groom and a few other savant attendees.

“One, two, three!” Kagami cries, launching her bouquet into the air. Like a missile locked on a target, it somersaults right over everyone’s heads and thwacks an unassuming Marinette straight in the face, knocking her right off her chair.

“Oh my god, Marinette!” Alya squeals, laughing as her best friend spits petals from her lips. Everyone is cheering as Marinette slowly stands up and waves the bouquet above her head, blushing with embarrassment.

“I don’t even have a boyfriend,” she shakes her head, still smiling despite not having a plus one by her side. She’s long accepted the fact that she’s going to be on her own for good and surprisingly, she feels better for it. Acceptance is the first step, after all, and Marinette has been going to so many weddings lately as an honoured guest for designing the wedding and bridesmaids dresses that the blank space at her side hardly bothers her any longer. She’s even started working on tuxedos!

Way, way down the table, Marinette tries to ignore the ghost from her past crowding the open bar with Nino and the rest of the boys. She’d said hello politely but otherwise avoided him, if only to keep a tamper on her feelings; even though her love has long withered down to smothered embers, Marinette wants to be careful to avoid the winds of change that would flare those feelings in her soul.

The food at Luka and Kagami’s wedding is fantastic and the music is even more so. After the first course, Luka invites everyone up to form a mosh pit as Jagged plays a brand new track off his upcoming album and Marinette is absolutely thrilled to bop around, screaming at the top of her lungs with her hands in the air. She’s as free as a bird and the gorgeous, rock star inspired dress she has on leaves little to the imagination as she sways and shakes to the music. Alya catches it all on TikTok, much to Marinette’s chagrin, and captions it: ‘What a catch! 🎣 How is my girl still single?!’

After, everyone takes a breather and sits back down at the table, its decorated surface filled to the brim with food served family style on colourful, mismatched platters. Marinette loves the boho aesthetic of the different multi-hued plates and napkins, the discordant textures and silverware already inspiring another collection for her fashion line. She digs into the huge heaping of pasta that Alya had plopped onto her plate and laughs along with her girlfriends as they eat the night away under the Parisian lights.

As the main course is being cleared from their tables, the wedding band begins to play and couples slowly but surely leave their tables for a tour of the dance floor. Alya jokingly offers a ‘samba-à-trois’ with her and Nino but Marinette laughingly declines, prefering to watch and take photos of her friends while they’re enjoying themselves. She’s got a knack for capturing the perfect shot and Marinette is just about to turn back towards her table to edit them when someone calls her name.

“Marinette!”

No matter how many months and years pass between them, he’ll always stop her in her tracks.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Adrien compliments her breathlessly, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He’s been dancing with the boys, hauling them up in the air on his shoulders as the party throbs around them, “I mean—you look beautiful always! It’s just—uh, tonight you look...especially beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Marinette responds, desperately trying to keep her voice even. She can’t help but transpose the black mask over his features as he runs his fingers through his messy hair, his cheeks flushed from exertion, “You look...handsome yourself.”

“Th-thank you!” he stutters, looking strangely unkempt for someone who always seems to have it together, “I just—um. Do you want to dance with me?”

He offers her his hand and she stares at it, the technicolour lights casting shadows on his upturned palm, “I...thank you for...um, offering but—”

“Please,” he beseeches her, his eyes blown wide, “I’ve missed you.”

Marinette gulps, her throat tightening against the emotions rekindling in her chest, “I’m…”

“Just one,” he says, taking a small, tentative step towards her, “And if you...if you don’t want to see me again after, I can do that.”

Her heart clenches. Tikki punches her thigh through her skirt.

“Just one,” she says eventually, placing her hand gently overtop of his. He grasps her like their lives depend on it and Marinette is suddenly thrust back to the days where their entwined fingers meant the difference between defeat and victory. He slumps with relief and pulls her towards his chest, resting his other hand on the small of her back.

And they dance.

Her heartbeat skips with every step as they sway to the music, lost in their own private orbit of things left unsaid. Adrien can’t keep his eyes away and she can hardly catch his gaze without burning up, finding it far easier to stare at the knot of his loosened tie. Somehow, they drift closer and closer until his lips are a hair’s breadth away from the crown of her head and Marinette can feel the warmth of his body coming off of him in waves, setting her skin on fire.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he whispers, his words barely there, “When I left after the wedding...I knew it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and I’d do anything to take it back.”

Marinette trips a little, stumbling into his chest, “Adrien—”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you everything but Alya told me you blocked me and I...I wanted to respect that. So I’ve been waiting six months to tell you what I should have told you all those years ago,” Adrien’s voice wavers, “I’ve loved you since the day we first fought together. The problem was, at eighteen, I thought I loved the idea of freedom more.”

“I was wrong, though. I was so, so wrong and I’ve spent the last four years of my life regretting every second. I’ve transferred to TU Delft to finish off my graduate degree so I can be closer to home. I want to come back on the weekends to fight by your side again and repair our relationship, but only if you want to. I just...I know I’ve been an awful partner and an even more awful friend so I totally understand if you never want to see me again but...I thought I would just try.”

Marinette swallows, fighting the tears that prickle at the corners of her eyes, “I’m sorry, Adrien. But I...thank you for the apology.”

He makes no move to let go and neither does she, “It’s...it’s okay. You’ve been doing so well on your own. I just want to be closer though, in case something happens. The Netherlands is only a few hours away by bus.”

The music slowly wanes and Marinette steps back, averting her gaze, “I guess it’s time for dessert.”

Adrien swallows, loosening his tie further, “Right. I...um, I’ll talk to you later?”

“Sure,” she says, finally glancing back up at him. He looks wrecked, for lack of a better word, “Maybe you can tell me how your studies are going?”

“Oh!” Adrien’s expression immediately brightens, his smile near blinding, “Yes! I’ll tell you anything! Everything! After dessert! We can talk!”

Marinette can’t help but smile a little, his fumbling antics so unlike the Adrien she knows. He’s unmasked in front of her, the Chat Noir she has always known and loved, “Nino’s waving at you.”

She points over his shoulder and Adrien turns, catching a glimpse of Nino, Luka and about ten other guys all hooting and giving him questioning thumbs up. He smiles and gives them an enthusiastic nod in return before turning back to Marinette, “I’ll find you after dessert, okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees, watching him scamper off towards his friends. Alya is on her not a second later, her arm draped around her shoulders as they walk back to their seats.

“Well? How did it go?”

Marinette shrugs, “We danced and I asked him about his studies.”

Alya skids to a stop in her tracks, “That’s it?”

“Well, he said he was sorry too,” she says, walking out from under Alya’s arm as she continues walking, “And then the song ended and we’re going to talk about his classes after.”

“I swear to god, that idiot!” Alya stomps her foot and storms away towards her husband and the rest of the boys.

The cake is cut, the lights are low and the party is about to truly kick into high gear. The wedding band is replaced by one of Los Angeles' best DJs and Marinette stays out of the fray for the time being, taking a break from the action. She’s responding to commision requests when the song that had just been playing slowly dwindles and the crowd starts to scream.

“Speech!” a familiar voice cries and Marinette’s head yanks towards its source so quickly it cracks, “I'm gonna make a speech, everybody!”

Standing on the wedding platform with his tie nowhere to be found, Adrien raises his glass of champagne in one hand and holds the microphone to his lips in the other, “First of all, I just want to make a big shout out to the bride and groom for hosting an amazing party! Santé!”

The crowd cheers and drinks with him, buzzing seemingly with anticipation. An electric current tingles down the length of her neck as something tells her that everyone clearly knows something she doesn’t.

“And secondly, I want to thank my friends for helping me try and win back the love of my life. Hey, Marinette! I’m still free! Take a chance on me!”

Hoisted from the platform to the dinner tables, Adrien begins to strut as if on a catwalk, "To the most beautiful, talented woman in the world! I'm gonna do my very best to get you back, if you let me try. I wanna be the first in line to your heart."

The entire party cheers him on. Jagged Stone plays the opening chords to the wedding march on his electric guitar.

"I know I kind of screwed up,” he averts his eyes for a moment, his cheeks burning as her jaw clunks to the floor, “But if you change your mind and need me, just let me know. I’m going to be around more often and...well, put me to the test. I won’t disappoint you ever again. I’m all yours.”

He pauses in front of her, microphone still in hand, “We could go dancing or go for a walk or anything, really. Just as long as we do it together. You’ve got to know how much I want to win you back and...and when I close my eyes at night and dream, I’m always dreaming about you! You have to know that I...I can’t let go of you. Of us. Of what I left behind.”

“Please Marinette,” he reaches out to her just like he had earlier, his palm raised and at the ready. Marinette feels like dying and flying all at once.

Her heart pounding, Marinette takes a shaky breath and raises her hand only to hesitate, her fingers curling with indecision. Her mind is racing and fuzzy and between the wolf whistles and the intensity of Adrien’s gaze, Marinette finds herself feeling something in her chest she hasn’t felt in four long years.

“What do you say, M’Lady?” Adrien smiles with a hopeful shrug, “Will you take a chance on me?”

“I…” she trails off and somehow, her arm is moving on its own accord. Should she listen to her mind and turn him down? Or should she listen to her heart and find love once more in the arms of the man she’s loved for years and years and years.

Well, there’s only one choice here, isn’t there?

“Yes,” she whispers, a sweet benediction, “Yes!”

Clasping his hand, Adrien hauls her up with supernatural strength onto the table and tosses the microphone into the crowd. There’s a horrible feedback noise as Nino catches it against his tuxedo but nothing matters anymore except the smile on his face and the joy in her eyes as he wraps his arms around her waist and presses her flush to his body, “Why did I ever let you go?”

“Because you were an idiot,” Marinette responds and Adrien throws his head back and laughs. Here I go again, she thinks as she soaks in his contagious joy as the crowd screams around them. How could she resist him, especially after a confession like that?

“Can I kiss you?”

Marinette inhales sharply, “How could I resist?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it is, you silly cat.”

Adrien bends down and presses his lips against hers just as the fireworks ignite in the background, bathing the glassed-in rooftop deck in hues of vibrant reds and golds. Marinette gasps as he runs his tongue along her bottom lip and she pulls him ever nearer, basking in his warmth as she grabs handfuls of his hair. She devours him longingly as he explores her body with his roaming fingertips and Marinette feels the dam of her desire breaking, overflowing with desperate, relentless love.

“I’m never going to let you go ever again," Adrien murmurs against her lips before diving back in and kissing her again, grabbing her by the hip. She feels delirious and suddenly they’re both smiling, giggling like school children because finally, finally ! They could be together! No matter what, four years or twenty, no span of time can truly keep apart true love.

READ PART 7 HERE!

#miraculous ladybug #mamma mia #ml fanfic #adrinette #miraculous ladybug au

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meghanpage · 4 years ago

Text

To the Stars Ch. 2 - Out to Sea

Words: 2278

Also on AO3

---

In the suite rented for them by Lucho, Valentina was unpacking her art. Around her, servants bustled to and fro, arranging her and Lucho’s belongings under the direction of Montilla. Montilla himself was under the direction of Lucho, of course, therefore everything was set according to his tastes, and not Valentina’s.

Determined not to be pushed aside in what were just as much her quarters as Lucho’s, Valentina had already pulled out a number of her favorite works as was planning where to put them. She had enlisted Chivis’ help, and they were now searching for a certain piece in particular.

Chivis held one up to show her. “This one?”

Valentina shook her head, and Chivis slid the painting back into its slot. “No, it had a lot of faces on it.” She spotted the one she was looking for and pulled it out triumphantly. “This is it!”

“God, not those finger paintings again,” Lucho but in as he approached from the other room, leaning in the doorway. “They were such a waste of money.”

Valentina kept her back to him, studying another painting Chivis had pulled out. “The difference between Lucho’s taste in art and mine,” she told her conversationally, “is that I have some.”

Chivis hid a laugh behind her hand.

“I love them.” Valentina said. “I like the way they make me feel. Like being in a dream or something.” She loved looking at the blocky and surrealist style of the paintings. They made sense to her, producing feelings she didn’t get from more traditional art. There was truth, but no logic.

“What was the name of the artist again?” Chivis asked.

“Something Picasso…” she replied, the artist’s first name slipping her mind at the moment.

Lucho scoffed. “‘Something Picasso,’” he mocked. “He won’t amount to a thing. Trust me.”

She ignored him sourly as he took a sip of his brandy then brandished it towards Montilla. “At least they were cheap.”

---

As the Titanic sailed towards France and then Ireland to take on her remaining passengers, Juliana briefly stowed away her meager belongings and settled into her bunk, to the surprise and confusion of her roommates. The rest of her time she spent wandering the decks, trying to get the lay of the ship. It truly was enormous, with endless corridors snaking through the interior and miles of deck to stroll on.

Walking the decks gave her an opportunity to engage in one of her favorite hobbies: people watching. With all the different kinds of people on board, she was provided with a wide variety of interesting subjects. She couldn’t help but pull out her drawing pad and sketch some life drawings.

She also kept an eye on the upper decks, watching the first class passengers promenade in their flowing gowns and long coats. Those clothes were the main focus of Juliana’s attentions; she always liked to keep up with the latest fashions, copying down the lines and shapes for inspiration in her own designs.

They weren’t something that really brought in money, her designs, but she loved the feeling of taking an idea for a garment and seeing it take shape on paper, until it was something someone could wear. She didn’t have much opportunity to turn the sketches into actual clothes, but she never stopped dreaming of the day when she could.

As the Titanic turned its nose away from Ireland, out towards the Atlantic, Juliana could feel the great engines propelling it forward, the ship gaining speed. She immediately wound her way to the bow, wanting to really feel it moving, to see it cut through the water.

She found where the deck jutted forward the farthest and went right up to the foremost tip. Leaning out over the railing, she gave herself an unobstructed view of the sea and sky racing past her. The sun was high in the sky, sparkling off the waves thrown up by the front of the ship as it sliced through the water. The wind rushed against her face, blowing her ponytail back and ruffling the hem of her ratty jacket.

She noticed movement in the water below her and leaned out even farther to see. There, where the hull met the waves, a pod of dolphins dipped and raced. She laughed out loud, watching as the dolphins began to leap from the water, gracefully arcing as they kept pace with the ship.

Feeling almost giddy, Juliana hoisted herself up on the rungs of the railing, bracing her feet of either side of the point of the bow. She tilted her head back and spread her arms wide, letting the wind whip around her. As she opened her eyes, nothing lay before her but the wide horizon. She felt like she was flying, and her heart soared with her.

---

Valentina felt like she was drowning.

She had been excited for that day’s lunch, as Camilo Guerra, the Chief Engineer, and Johny Corona, the Director of the White Star Line, were going to be dining with them. They were also to be joined by another passenger named Lucía Borges; she was “new money,” as Eva sneered, whose husband had recently struck gold in the American West.

Valentina had hoped the men would going to talk about the building and functioning of the ship, as she was fascinated and wanted to learn more about it. But all they seemed to do was grandstand, talking in circles about how the Titanic was “the biggest moving object made by the hand of man” and how “its supremacy would never be challenged.” Valentina had to fight down her frustration at the thought of this being the rest of her afternoon.

She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, more for something to do with her hands than anything. As she took her first inhale, Eva narrowed her eyes at her, leaning closer to whisper, “You know I don’t like that.”

Instead of replying, Valentina fixed her with a stare of her own, and blew a stream of smoke into her face.

Lucho noticed their exchange and plucked the cigarette from its holder between Valentina’s fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray. “She knows.”

Valentina’s blood boiled, but she knew she couldn’t retaliate, not there at the table with Eva and everyone else watching. She noticed Lucía’s gaze on her from across the table, but didn’t meet her eyes.

When a waiter approached to take their orders, Valentina breathed a sigh of relief at the distraction. She looked to the waiter to place her order, but Lucho spoke over her before she could begin.

“We’ll both have the lamb, rare, with very little mint.” Seemingly as an afterthought, he looked to Valentina. “You like lamb, right, amorcita?”

She knew he didn’t really want to hear her opinion, so she just gave him her fakest smile.

Across the table, Lucía spoke up. “Are you going to cut her meat for her too, Lucho?” Her voice was joking, but her eyes flashed in a way Valentina admired. Not waiting for him to reply, she quickly steered the conversation in another direction, which Valentina also appreciated. “Now, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Johny?”

Mr. Corona puffed up a bit, looking pleased with himself behind his glasses. “Well, yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength.”

“Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Corona?” Valentina asked before she could stop herself. “His ideas about the men’s obsession with size might be of particular interest to you.”

Lucía flashed a grin at her, while Eva hissed, “What’s gotten into you?”

Valentina wasn’t quite sure herself. She stood hurriedly from her chair, making it squeak against the new floors. Barely remembering to excuse herself, she hurried out into the cool air on deck.

---

Juliana was sketching near the stern of the ship, engrossed in the scene of a father explaining the propellers of the ship to his young daughter. He had her propped up on the railing, his arms wrapped securely around her as they spoke and gestured. Their movement provided an interesting challenge for Juliana, as she had to focus more on capturing their basic frame instead of their details.

She finished a bit of shading and looked up to watch two porters walking a handful of dogs past her. They were first class dogs, come down to steerage to take a shit. She scoffed lightly to herself, shaking her head. Always nice to know where you ranked in the scheme of things.

As she raised her head, her eyes caught on a bit of movement on the upper deck, and she stopped still. Walking towards the railing of the first class deck was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Her dress was a lovely silk and lace affair, but for once Juliana couldn’t make herself focus on fashion. The woman was slim and willowy, her light brown hair coiled in a complicated style at the back of her head. Her cheekbones and jaw were sharp enough to cut, and as she looked out over the ocean, her eyes shone with sadness.

Juliana watched as she leaned on her forearms against the railing, her brows drawing together as the corners of her lips turned down.

Somehow, Juliana couldn’t stop staring. Without thinking, she flipped to a blank sheet of paper on her sketchpad, her fingers tracing the outline of the woman’s features. She could barely look away to focus on the sketch, but she knew she had to get her on paper, capture this moment before it flew away.

The woman turned her head, looking towards her, and for just a moment, their eyes met. She looked away again quickly, but Juliana felt something inside her jolt at her gaze. Her fingers flew even faster, sketching the shape of her eyes, the tilt of her mouth.

She wanted her to look at her again.As if she could hear her desire, the woman’s eyes slid over to her once more, locking with Juliana’s. Even from a distance, Juliana could tell they were a lovely, brilliant blue. Their gaze continued for a long, breathless moment. There was something about the woman that called out to Juliana, that pulled towards her, that begged her to…

The moment was severed. A man strode up and grabbed the woman’s elbow, tearing her gaze away. He spoke harshly to her for a moment before she broke free and stormed away from him. Juliana watched as he followed after her, and they both disappeared back into the first class accommodations.

---

Valentina escaped towards the edge of the deck which looked out over the rear of the ship. She just needed some air, a breath to herself. She felt suffocated, constantly prodded this way and that by Lucho and her sister. Was there nowhere on this godforsaken ship she could go to be alone?

As she leaned on the railing surrounding the deck, she looked out over the ocean, letting its openness soothe her. Her father had loved the open water, had loved sailing. It was part of why he had taken them on the trip to Europe; a way to enjoy the vast ocean as they saw the world outside of their native Mexico. But the trip was also why she had had to bury León in a foreign country, far away from the rest of their family, and why she now had to leave him behind.

She turned away from the water, squashing down her thoughts of her father. Dwelling on her grief was certainly not helpful at the moment. To distract herself, she looked at the second and third class passengers on the decks below her. Though they were so close, they felt a world away, their lives so different from those in her well-polished world.

Her eyes caught on the figure of another woman - a woman who as definitely staring back at her. She was alone, sitting off to the side against the railing, a sheaf of papers in her lap, and she was gorgeous.

The woman’s dark hair was in a ponytail, swept back from her tan skin and deep brown eyes. She was wearing a dark men’s shirt and men’s trousers, which instead of being odd only served to highlight her beauty.

Valentina quickly looked away, back towards the ocean. Their eyes had only met for a moment, yet there had been something there, something that called for Valentina to look back.

She shouldn’t, she reasoned, it would be rude to stare - but she couldn’t help herself. Her eyes turned back to the other woman, and found her still staring. There was a strange intensity to the woman’s stare, and as their gazes met, Valentina felt as if she was looking straight into her, past every defense and down to her very essence.

Valentina felt herself growing warm, and even as she wished for the moment to go on forever, it cam roughly to an end.

A hand grabbed her by the elbow, and Lucho’s admonishing voice pierced through the fog in her mind. “What do you think you were doing, running off like that? Your sister and I had to apologize and make excuses.”

“Don’t touch me,” Valentina snapped, still too focused on the unknown woman to care about reigning in her behavior.

“Vale, stop this,” Lucho growled, not letting go. “Behave yourself and come back to lunch.”

Wrenching her arm out of his grip, Valentina stalked back towards their suite. “I’m going to my rooms,” she told him, leaving him to make whatever excuses he liked to their lunch party.

#amar a muerte #juliantina #juliana valdes #valentina carvajal #fanfiction #my work #titanic au

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savage-rhi · 5 years ago

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Sky of Atoms: Death Stranding Fanfic Ch. 6

HIGGS 3.0

“I’ll cut to the chase, I want to negotiate an offer with you. It’ll be worth hearing me out.” Higgs said, his voice just as confident as the posture he took on. It took a lot of effort on his part to not come across too domineering. Whenever Higgs wanted something, he took it. There was no need to ask for favors or to be kind about the request. Now wasn’t such a case. The years being isolated, and almost stripped entirely of his powers had put things into perspective.

Higgs could intimidate, his body memorized all the simple gestures to get the point across he wasn’t to be screwed with, but when it came to actual combat, he was sloppy. Not to mention pretty weak at times if the right kind of fighter read him like a book. Higgs didn’t want Gene to be spooked by him, but neither did he want her to believe for a second she could walk over him. He had to perform a balancing act both mentally and physically, and behind the facade of confidence, he was nervous.

“I can see your mind is already trying to figure out how to get out of here, but I kindly ask you to give me five minutes tops.” Higgs said as he held up his hand displaying his five fingers for emphasis, tilting his head some as he could feel more water droplets from his shower a half hour ago begin to drip down the strands of his hair.

“Play your cards right, I might let you have a slice.” He said, leaning down behind the doorway to pick up the pizza box cargo Gene had delivered. He grinned briefly, for a moment forgetting about what he intended on talking about as his stomach and mind became fixated on eating. Higgs had been waiting for this day for a long time, and he needed to sate his hunger.

“No thanks, it's your delivery.” Gene said, her tone indicating she was trying to figure out what Higgs’s angle was.

“But it’s your favorite, right? You got me the kind of pizza you would eat. That was my request. I figured you’d want some after carrying it miles and miles out to the middle of nowhere.” Higgs said and shrugged giving a callous laugh. Oh well be a bitch, more for me. He thought to himself briefly then stepped out. He walked past Gene and looked outside the shelter that surrounded the terminal and entryway to his humble abode. His eyes glanced around at the sky, as the smell began to hit him. Rain was coming. He had been here for so long he memorized the weather patterns and up in the mountain area it was going to be rough.

“Was your plan to bait me into talking shop with you the whole time or did you really want pizza?” Gene asked accusingly as Higgs shrugged and gave a chuckle.

“Maybe. Maybe a little bit of both. You’ll never know.” He turned and winked at her.

“You were saying something about an offer, Higgs?” Gene asked, sounding irritable and ignoring his tease. Higgs took a step back and then turned towards her, the cargo box holding the pizza close to him.

“Yeah, why don’t you step into my office.” He said as he walked ahead of Gene, going towards the security door that lead into his dwelling. Higgs stopped when he didn’t pick up on her following behind and turned around. Gene was cautious, yet her gaze seemed to convey the assumption that Higgs was full of shit for thinking she’d blindly go into a strangers domain. He couldn’t blame her.

“I need to hit the road. If you want to talk business or whatever, we can do it out here.” Gene stood her ground and Higgs had to hand it to her, she was a no bullshit type of person; a trait he admired in the very few.

“I like your spunk and I honestly don’t want you anywhere near my shit, but I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.” He then pointed up towards the ceiling of the terminal port as Gene stepped out from underneath it and looked at the sky. It was becoming more grey by the minute, and Higgs didn’t need to see it for himself. Her expression conveyed all he needed to know. Gene knew as well as Higgs that the storm coming was going to ravage the route of her trip. She maybe had three hours tops to get down through the mountain pass, but that was if Gene got a running start. Higgs could see she was carrying a large package on her back, and while she wasn’t looking, he shook his head. Good luck with that. Higgs thought to himself. Any porter with that kind of luggage, save for the likes of someone like Sam Bridges, would be screwed trying to get through a powerful storm like the one coming. Higgs could already feel the wind began to pick up in power, the whisking sounds conveying it was gaining strength.

“Can stay out here like a dog in a doghouse for all I care, but I don’t think you should be going out on your lonesome anytime soon chicky.” Higgs, feeling the pain of hunger begin to hit, made his way back inside. At this point he didn’t care if Gene was going to hear him out or not much less if she was going to stick around. He was just happy having one of his favorite meals again.

“God damn it,” Higgs could hear Gene mutter to herself in a harsh whisper and he smiled upon hearing her footsteps trailing behind. Hook, line and sinker.

“Watch your step--” Higgs tried to forewarn before Gene yelped aloud. Her hands clambering at her forehead after knocking herself into the low ceiling. There was a steep drop into Higgs’s domain courtesy of the prepper nutjob that used to live here, and as Higgs turned around to assess the damage Gene took, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was amusing seeing someone else besides him getting canned in the face for a change.

Gene looked up and glared at Higgs. He was quick to throw his hands up in surrender, along with the cargo box he carried. “My bad. You’re the first company I’ve had in a long time. I haven’t seen such golden comedy in ages.”

“Can you fuck off?” Gene asked, rubbing her forehead as she hissed, rubbing at a healing cut above her eyebrow which Higgs took notice of right away. It was started to bleed, the ceiling having torn off a scab that formed. He wasn’t sure if Gene took notice of the trail of blood making its way down her face.

“I like your offer, but that’s not my kind of thing.” Higgs sat the pizza down, going over to a small cabinet of sorts and began rummaging around some stuff. While Higgs searched around for some medicine for Gene to put on her cut, he glanced occasionally out of the corner of his eye at her, watching Gene’s every move. She appeared observant of his decorum, glancing at a wall with notes and a trove of scrap work he had worked on and off for months.

“Did you make all the Egyptian stuff outside?” Gene asked as Higgs was taken aback from the question before he found the capsule he had been seeking. He got up and tossed the little pill towards Gene, which she caught fast, having become aware finally that her wound had opened up as she cracked the pill open and began to smear an antibiotic gel over it.

“I’m amazed you even know what that is.” Higgs said impressed, crossing his arms for a brief moment as he watched Gene apply the last bit of gel to the wound.

“I may be a porter, but I’m not that dumb.” Gene said in her defense.

“You could have fooled me. After taking the hit coming into my house I question if your intelligence is a little--” he gestured his hand, rolling it like a wave off sync. “Muddled.”

“Did you invite me in here just to insult me or are we going to talk about this arrangement of yours? I’m getting tired of the insults. Maybe that’s why no one has sent you a Christmas card. You act like a dick.”

Higgs’s smile seemed to bloom at how enraged Gene was getting. He was having fun. “I know I’m a dick. I own it. You should own up to your faults too, chickadee. It puts things into perspective. Wouldn’t you agree that having that kind of awareness is worthwhile?”

Gene shrugged, glaring towards him. “It doesn’t help to have that kind of awareness and not change your shit persona.”

“Touche’.” Higgs said with a laugh. As much as he was enjoying toying around with Gene, he was dying to get his mouth around a slice of pizza. He was speedy opening up the cargo box. The aroma hit his nose and he let out a sigh of relief as if he were breathing for the first time in his life. His cool eyes scanned over the deep dish, looking at the toppings. Higgs’s eyebrow quirked at one topping in particular he wasn’t expecting. He picked up the piece of pineapple, inspecting it like a detective. He could see from the corner of his eye that Gene was watching him with confusion before he huffed, lifting his hand with the pineapple piece at her.

“That’s adorable.” He said before tossing the fruit into his mouth and chewed slowly. He purposefully left his remark ambiguous so Gene couldn’t tell if he was pleased, or a little disappointed in the choice. Higgs ate all the pineapple pieces off first, avoiding all the meaty bits and peppers before he truly dug in. To say he ravaged a good quarter of the pizza was an understatement, groaning on the occasion in pleasure as the flavors hit his mouth and the sweet spots of his tongue. Higgs was in heaven. So much to the point where he didn’t notice Gene had been standing the entire time observing him awkwardly for nearly two minutes straight. Once he picked up on it, he slurped a long strand of cheese into his mouth and got up.

“Where my manners at?” He said aloud, looking for something to offer Gene to sit upon. Higgs settled for a beanbag chair he confiscated from a MULE’s base ages ago. There were small tears in it, but it would have to make due. Higgs didn’t exactly design his home to cater to anyone but himself. He watched as Gene slowly took a seat, sinking a bit into the material. Higgs couldn’t help but snort at how awkward she looked while he went back to eating.

“You gonna drink the alcohol I got for you?” Gene asked, gesturing towards the canister cargo near the front of the entrance. Higgs shook his head, swallowing another bite of pizza.

“Nah, I’m good for now. I plan on saving it for later. Thank you kindly for the pizza. Well worth it, though I’m more of a classic guy myself when it comes to flavors. I like to keep things simple.” That was probably the first time Higgs had been sincere in a long while. He was truly thankful for the delivery, and he tried making an effort in his tone to convey that to Gene as much as he enjoyed picking on the poor gal.

“No worries,” Gene said and Higgs could have sworn she sounded appeased with him. “Do you want to keep stuffing your face or do you want to talk now?”

Higgs was surprised Gene didn’t sound as antagonistic just now. Adjusting in the seat after he put the cargo box down with the remaining slices, he let out a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah, let’s chit chat. You’re the first porter I’ve encountered in a long time. Hell, this is the first delivery I’ve gotten in three years, though I’m sure given your job position you met many people with that same circumstance.”

Gene nodded as Higgs pressed on. “I’ll admit, you got me good with your little speech before about everyone needing help. Lord knows I too am at fault for needing service. I like keeping to myself cause’ it makes things easier to deal with, but I have good vibes about you. You seem to know when to keep your mouth shut and when to not let your employers know about under the table gigs. My offer is simple: supply me with stuff such as pizza and the occasional basic necessity every month, and I’ll make it worth your while. I got all sorts of neat little goodies from prowling around these parts. Items that could make you filthy rich if you sell to the right colonists outside the UCA. What do you say to that temptation?”

Higgs watched as the gears in Gene’s head began to turn. She seemed stumped. Higgs assumed she didn’t expect him to sound as eloquent just now, that it had taken her aback. He was quite proud of himself as he allowed his lips to form a smile, head tilting some in thought as he waited for an answer.

“I barely got away with getting you this delivery. If this is going to be a monthly occurrence, Brisk HARPY’s computer system is going to pick up on it and then we’re both in trouble. You get outed and I may be out of a job.” Gene explained as Higgs sighed sadly, shaking his head.

“And here I thought you had balls. My mistake.” He said in a taunting tone, throwing up his hands briefly to mock Gene further as she quickly interjected.

“Look, it’s not that I wouldn’t do it.” Gene started, piquing Higgs’s interest as he leaned forward in his chair and met the porters gaze. “You’ve been a loner for a long time, and I reckon at one point in life you had the same job as me. You couldn’t even begin to understand how much the systems have changed. It’s not as easy keeping stuff off the books. Quality control tally shit up five times over since Homo Demens have caused massive exoduses. There’s too many people in certain communities, and not enough to go around to support everybody. Security is tight.”

“Understandable, as it should be.” Higgs said sympathetically. “I figured you were smart enough though to bypass some things. You managed to pull it off with this request, did you not?”

Gene hesitated before nodding, Higgs in turn mimicking her movement before he spoke further. “I’m sure with the right motivation, I can get you to do it again for me. With the things I got, if god forbid, you got your hand caught in the cookie jar by Brisk HARPY, you’d be set credit wise. That’s something I would never lie about.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing a liar would say.” Gene countered and Higgs laughed so hard he almost felt a muscle in his side spasm.

“Now, why would I go through the trouble of lying to you? I’ve been blunt if I do say so myself. Look I’m not the type to bend over backwards for just anyone. You’re a special case.”

Gene raised a brow at him, her gaze weary as Higgs could pick up on it even with the dim lighting in his home. “You sound as if you were someone ‘special’ at one point.”

“Oh honey,” Higgs chuckled in a low drawl. “You have no idea.”

Higgs allowed the small talk to die down, allowing Gene some time to digest his offer in full. He went back to eating the rest of the pizza in the meantime while waiting for her to rack out the details in her head. Higgs was unsure if she was going to go for the offer. Hell, he wouldn’t blame her for turning it down. From a porter's perspective, it was risky to a fault. Even after all these years, he could understand the mentality of saving your own ass especially when working for a company. Higgs still hoped in the subconsciousness of his mind however, that she’d say yes.

Higgs wouldn’t ever be caught with his pants down, but he didn’t just want a little parakeet to come around every so often with goods when he felt like being lazy looking for supplies out in the field. He missed having someone to talk too, even if all he did was insult and backhand. That was something Higg’s cursed Gene for many times since their first encounter. He realized how much he missed interacting with another, despite loving his hermit life he made for himself. Higgs settled for being touch starved for the rest of his life, not really yearning for it because of his daddy’s abuse, but not talking to anyone for the rest of his sorry existence was a scary concept he slowly began to contend with. Even though at one point Higgs considered himself a god, he was only human after all. Higgs made peace with tolerating Gene just to satisfy that primal need.

“I’ll take the deal, if you can answer a question for me.” Gene finally piped up as Higgs could feel pride burning in his chest. It made him euphoric knowing he was getting what he wanted. For once, he didn’t have to use violence to get it across. Who would have thought simple banter would do wonders?

“Shoot sweetheart.” Higgs said.

“How did you know David, the Homo Demens member you killed?”

Higgs had already rehearsed a similar scenario in his mind in case the plan with Gene had backfired or if she got too prying. He was more than ready to give his white lie. “Once upon a time I was porter, much like you and I did some bad things under the table for money. David was just one of those clients. He paid me a lot, and I kept my mouth shut. Eventually I got along well with the group and did all sorts of smuggling. That’s the gist. I was desperate at the time.”

“Why did you quit the delivery life?”

Higgs chuckled and waved a finger at her, like a parent dismissing the remark of their rude child. “That’s a bedtime story for another day I’m afraid. May I ask why you decided to become a UCA boy scout?” He asked, mocking the fact she was a porter. Nonetheless despite Gene looking less than amused at his tone, she answered truthfully.

“It was the only thing I was good at. I never really amounted to anything.”

“Can’t be true,” Higgs interrupted. “At least from where I’m standing.”

He could have sworn Gene was blushing from his compliment, but given the lighting in the facility, he wasn’t sure. Nor did he want to linger on that thought.

“My parents were both scientists, botanists. They had a kid who could never compare intelligence wise so I did the next best thing. I’m good with my hands and my body. Being a porter was a calling. It seemed like a no brainer.”

“Your mama and daddy still around?”

“They died, a long time ago.”

“My condolences.” Higgs could feel some sort of tension in the room and glanced to the side, deciding to concentrate on the package Gene had been carrying on her back now lying towards the back wall of the small living space. It didn’t take Gene long to take notice, which Higgs intended.

“So uh, what kind of delivery are you making with that thing?” Higgs asked curiously as Gene herself turned and looked at the cargo container.

“I actually have no clue. It’s UCA top priority though.”

“I take it you’re a good little boy scout and won’t dare to open it?” Higgs challenged mockingly as Gene cast a firm glare upon him. Her gaze was territorial to say the least.

“Not on your life.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to let the bad bitch out of the box. I’m just playin’ you.” Higgs said, waving his hands playfully. As if she could really hurt me. He thought to himself and shook his head. He was growing tired by the minute.

Prior to Gene making the delivery, Higgs had gotten back from a six hour trip trying to find some power cells to keep his humble abode afloat. It wasn’t easy, living in an old preppers bunker lodge. Even when he was living with his daddy long ago as a child, Higgs could recall how difficult it was to keep the electricity running. His daddy having to leave for days at a time to get enough resources to keep the home going, despite telling Higgs up and down that the outside world was no place to go. Thinking of the hypocrisy made Higgs glare, and he unintentionally was doing so towards Gene.

“Did I do something?” Gene asked defensively before Higgs grunted and shook his head.

“No, was’ just thinking about something. That’s all.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence filled the room, cutting the atmosphere in half. Higgs wasn’t feeling too comfortable being around Gene’s presence. He cleared his throat, giving a yawn as he stretched his arms and got up walking towards a corridor that lead to his room. He pressed his ear to the wall, listening for the storm coming in. Gene could faintly hear the howls too as Higgs observed her head trying to follow where the sound was coming from. He took his head off the wall and gestured.

“There’s a hammock you can set up here in the back corner. Bathroom is down across my room. If you’re brave enough to take a shower, I gotta warn you the water is colder than the fingertips of death.”

“That coming from personal experience?” Gene asked, legitimately curious but also joking. Higgs saw her attempts to diffuse whatever tension there was in the living space and laughed. His demeanor changed with a flip of a switch as he furrowed his brows into a glare, gesturing at the back end of his living space where some of his Egyptian sculptures lay by the entrance.

“You can see yourself out in the morning. Don’t hit your head on the way out.”

Higgs made his way to the room so quickly that he had no time to see that Gene was confused by his statement. Like he pulled the welcome carpet from out underneath her feet with how he sounded towards the tail end of his sentence.

The automatic door closed behind Higgs as he collapsed into bed, pulling off his boots lazily along with his shirt leaving himself in his pants as he lay flat on his back and looked at the ceiling. He took in deep shallow breaths, his body beginning the convulsions. Another DOOM’s withdrawal was knocking at his door. Much like what was happening outside, it was the calm before the storm. Higgs swallowed, feeling the pain slowly rise up into his chest. Tears spilled down his eyes as he shut them, trying to force his mind to sleep through it all.

Tagging:

@kusooi

#death stranding #its got higgs in it you thirsty bitches!#higgs monaghan #higgs x oc #fanfiction #fanfic #hit me up if you want to be tagged in updates

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insertmanyfandomshere · 6 years ago

Text

Transformers hotel!Au

Was at Universal Studios today and saw a cafe called Starbot cafe. I accidentally said Starbot Hotel, and this hotel au just suddenly popped up in my head. My first au, so please, no flames, and tell me what you think!

(Tfa bots keep their design, but relationships may differ a little to fit into this au. Nothing too major though, so don’t worry.)

Scenario: Optimus and Megatron (TFP) opens a hotel on Cybertron some day after the war ends. Former faction members from both sides end up being the hotel staff, and the hotel is still somehow running.

TFP Autobots

Optimus - Owner and propagandist (also would make random appearances at hotel and 1) stand there looking cool or 2) help lost people find their way because certain porters aren’t doing their duties.

Ratchet - Grumpy head medic that does not want to actually be there over half the time. Stationed with duty 24/7 and constantly wants to bash head in.

Arcee - Porter #1 - drives everyone (and their luggages) to their rooms (is always getting annoyed by the other two porters and will not so subtlety force them to do their duties without running off)

Bumblebee - Promoter #1 (Actually a main reason why people go to StarBot Hotel is because of how adorable Bee is, but he’s a good promoter too. Secretly fanboys over every ship happening in the hotel and helped play matchmaker in some situations. Tfa Bumblebee is his twin of sorts.)

Bulkhead - Assistant nurse to Ratchet who always (accidentally) trashes the medbay more than keeping it in order. Always tries his best however, no matter what Ratchet says, so give him a break

Smokescreen - Porter #2 (hyper and fast, and will actually get the job done efficiently if he actually stops skipping duty to race with KO and Tfa Bunblebee. Gossips about relationships on off time, mostly to Tfp Bumblebee)

Ultra Magnus - Security guard #1 (tells everyone to be rule abiding. Seem to always have eyes everywhere 24/7. He and Soundwave makes a good team)

Wheeljack - Stunt performer who gives free shows to hotel users and tells people to blow up Ratchet’s medbay and blame it on Bulkhead. Flirts with Ratchet even though neither are romantically interested in one another.

TFP Decepticons

Megatron - Co Owner, receptionist and chambermaid (Optimus tells him that he scares everyone away and stuck him with cleaning duty unfortunately)

Starscream - Promoter #2 (Actually does a good job at convincing people to stay in the hotel with his convincingness. Helps out anyone else who needs it when off duty (except for Megatron))

Soundwave - Security guard #2 (Scares everyone silently into abiding the law. Magically appears whenever someone is about to do something wrong and stares at them until they get the cue and stops what they’re doing. Lazerbeak is his son and prodigy security guard-in-training and he would casually kill anyone who looks down upon him. In semi relationship with SS)

Knockout - Head cleaner, part time medic to help Ratchet (always yells at people who accidentally nicks the ground, wall or anything in the hotel even a little bit. When helping Ratchet, both constantly argues about each others’ choice of assistant. Also sneaks off during duty to race, much to everyone’s annoyance.)

Breakdown - Knockout’s assistant who always (accidentally) messes up what he’s supposed to clean (GIVE THIS BEAN A BREAK HE’S TOO BIG) Knockout understands though, and never calls him out.

Dreadwing - Security guard #3 (passive aggressively scares everyone to be law abiding by carrying his huge cannon around, and telling everyone earnestly that it’s dishonourable to break the rules)

Airachnid - Security camera manager #1 (doesn’t really care if a crime is being committed or not, thinks murdering is fine as long as not bloody so that knockout does not have a hissy fit. Thank goodness U.M. and S.W keeps everyone in check. Doesn’t like her partner on duty and secretly plotting to kill her.)

Shockwave - Receptionist #1 (Tries not to act as if he’s done with life. The mono optic makes it a little hard.)

Steve the Vehicon - The random jester that makes everyone laugh and has a not-so-secret admiration for Starscream

Other Eradicons and Vehicons - Cooks (and sometimes chambermaids and cleaners as well? Always gossip about the latest news regarding the mechs working in the hotel and is just done with their superiors and Lugnut)

TFA Autobots

TFA Optimus - Next in line to inheriting hotel (Optimus TFP’s Son. Is the kind and unsure person who tries his best and yet have things backfire in his face sometimes and have others questioning his authority. His dad is there to teach him though, everything will be fine.)

Prowl - Yoga instructor (gives everyone free yoga lessons and sometimes even karate. Tells everyone to either ignore TFA bumblebee or just kick his aft. Completely clueless to Jazz’s swooning, poor birb.)

TFA Bumblebee - Porter #3 (like Smokescreen, is hyper and fast and would be efficient if he wasn’t always leaving the job for Arcee to complete. Bails on duty sometimes to go racing with KO and Smokescreen. Sometimes Blitzwing catches all of them and sticks them with kitchen serving duty. Doesn’t like to be referred to as ‘Bumblebee’s twin.)

Jazz - Music provider / DJ (seriously, he comes up with the best songs. Provides the right kind of music for different occasions. Secretly head over heels for TFA Prowl. Is a really chill guy until you question his music tastes.)

Sentinel Prime - Receptionist #2 (is secretively scared of TFP Optimus but constantly undermines TFA Optimus. TFP Optimus puts him in line tho. Shockwave is secretly done with S.P.)

TFA Decepticons

TFA Megatron- Head chef?? Constantly tries to poison energon for bots and food for humans but always gets thwarted by Ultra Magnus (TFP) Also needs to learn how to treat the Vehicons and Eradicons better, but they always get back at him.

Lugnut - TFA Megatron’s assistant chef. (Worships the food and energon prepared by the guy. Also tries (and fails) to influence the cooks (Vehicons And Eradicons) with Megatron’s ‘mightiness and amazingness with cooking)

Blitzwing - Hotel supervisor and manager (Icy is extremely strict, calm and civil to patrons and tolerates paperwork. Hothead blows up at everyone and incinerates paperwork and Random just cannot be bothered with paperwork. Also in a semi relationship with TFA Bumblebee.)

TFA Starscream - (By a weird twist of fate) Megatron’s superior. Makes Megatron make extra dishes and energon as he pleases just because he could. (Doesn’t give two shits about Megatron poisoning food, ironically, even though he’s drinking that energon too)

Blackarachnia - On security cam duty with Airachnid. Surprisingly they do not get along and butt heads constantly. (Case to point, Thank Primus for Ultra Magnus and Soundwave (and lazerbeak). Knows that Airachnid wants to kill her but doesn’t bother with such petty thoughts, seeing that there’s three (four?) security guards on duty)

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1dffexchange · 6 years ago

Photo

Uncomfortable Silences

To: Vicki @angstarella

From: Liv @midnightcities

Summary: It’s been 927 days since Rowie messily ended her two year relationship with Harry. 659 days since Harry Styles bared his soul and shared it for the world to hear in the form of a best-selling debut album. 173 days since his number had flashed across the screen of her phone. But finally, Rowie was starting to feel her sense of normalcy return.

It was any other Saturday morning. A half eaten piece of Marmite toast lay forgotten on the kitchen counter along with the dregs of my morning coffee. There was a haphazard pile of trousers at the foot of my bed that I had created when searching for my favourite black pair. My 10 minute snooze turned into almost 25 minutes and I was now on a time crunch to pull myself together for my Saturday shift. Despite promising myself that I would go to bed at an acceptable hour last night, I fell prey to my best friend’s masterful coercing and stayed out far longer than I originally intended. You think by now I would know better.

I was in my bathroom, scraping my hair back into a bun, when I heard the buzz of my phone. Jules, the aforementioned best friend I’m sure, checking in to either complain about her killer headache or to help fill in her hazy memory. This had become a bit of a ritual for us.

One last glance in the mirror and I deemed myself suitable enough to face the horde of Saturday shoppers. I flicked the bathroom light off and grabbed my phone that I had earlier tossed onto my unmade bed. The phone screen lit up as I brought it to eye level. I immediately dropped the phone back onto the bed when I saw the notification:

+44 7106 555555 iMessage

I had finally deleted that number almost a year ago; that’s the best way to move on according to all the break-up articles and books I have pored over the past 2 and a bit years. They don’t tell you how to delete a number from your memory though. I haven’t seen it grace my phone screen in quite some time, the longest stint yet actually. And still, it made my heart stutter erratically and my palms clammy.

What does he want now? Has something happened? Work. I haven’t seen much of him online lately. Who was that last girl he was linked to again? Work. Is this going to be some half-assed, drunk apology again? I need to go to work.

I broke myself out of my impending trainwreck of thoughts, forcing myself to throw all my effort into moving my body. I snatched up my bag and grabbed my phone once again. My eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see that damn number as I shoved it to the depths of my bag. Out of sight out of mind, right?

****

Waterstones was a staple part of my childhood London visits, so landing a job here in my first year of studying was a dream. I was lucky enough to take up residence at the Gower Street store. It always was my favourite, with its twisting shelves and hidden nooks, and it’s a bonus that it’s only a 5 minute walk from main campus for those days when I have class. As a child I always thought this would be the perfect place to play a game of hide-and-seek. And on days like today where I would rather do anything than enthusiastically suggest a middle-aged woman some egregious romance novel, the labyrinth nature of the store was appreciated.

I was tucked away on the third floor, shelving some second-hand Philosophy books. I studied each title intently, skimmed each books synopsis, and threw all my mental energy into deciphering what the philosophical knowledge each book was actually trying to impart. The upper levels of the store are the perfect study sanctuary; I have spent many hours holed up in here writing last minute essays. But today the comfortable silence was not good for my current mental state.

I had thrown my bag into the designated employee locker out the back, my phone remaining ignored in the depths. I’m sure I felt it vibrate again when I was on the tube but it stayed unopened and unchecked. I can’t do this again, I really can’t put myself through… that again.

“Um… Excuse me…” A quiet voice caught me off guard.

I turned, book still in hand, to see three girls standing awkwardly near the W-Z section of Social Sciences. They looked a little young to be browsing up here, but I reserved my judgements. “Yes, how may I help you today?” I flashed my customer service smile.

The girl in the middle opened her mouth before snapping it shut again. The one on the left nudged her, giving her a look of slight impatience. Odd.

“Are… are you…” She attempted again.

Now the one on the right shook her head and pushed herself forward. “Are you Rowena Porter?”

I felt my heart begin to stutter, my stomach clench. “Excuse me?”

“Rowie…” the girl in the middle whispered, “she likes to be called Rowie.”

“Whatever,” she shrugged, “are you Rowie Porter?”

“I’m sorry,” my cheeks felt hot and I could feel my hands starting to shake, “but I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

The girl on the right took a couple steps toward me, clearly she was the most confident of the three. “Harry Styles has been seen coming here a lot lately. And then I remembered reading on Twitter that you work here. Has he been visiting you? Are you back together?”

My breath hitched. Harry was here? When? Why? Was it to see me? Surely out of all the Waterstones in London he wouldn’t choose this one for his bookish needs. It can’t be a mere coincidence.

The three girls stared at me expectantly, as if I was about to really about to reveal some intimate, albeit non-existent, love-life details. I placed the book in my hand on the shelf adjacent to me and took a steading breath. “I’m sorry girls, but Rowena quit working here a while back. I’m afraid I can’t help you any more than that.”

“Oh, so you just happen to look like her?” The girl challenged.

“Coincidence.”

“But--”

“Look,” my tone had become considerably more clipped, “if you have any book related questions I am happy to help you out. Otherwise I need to continue on with my job.” I picked up the half-empty box of Philosophy books that still needed unpacking and headed down the aisle and away from the girls. I prayed that they weren’t following me. It took every ounce of my self-control to not completely blow up at them and tell them, in the nicest way possible, to sod off. But now I was throwing all my focus into not breaking down in the middle of the Greek and Roman Classics section.

I pounded down the three flights of stairs, determined to hold myself together to at least the back storage area. My head was swimming, like I had just thrown back five consecutive shots of Jäger, and my face prickling with sweat.

Just as I was about the push past the registers, my unstable hands got the better of me and I dropped the box, the books tumbling out. “Shit.” I scrambled onto my knees to pile the books back up but tears began to blur my vision and I could feel the stares of customers. Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

“Rowie, are you okay?”

A pair of hands shot out and began haphazardly throwing the books back into the box. The hands belonged to Will, one of my co-workers and probably one of the only people I considered an actual friend on staff. I sat back, letting him collect the last few books, and willed my hands to stop trembling and for my tears to not spill over. Will stood and lifted the box up and behind the counter before offering me his hand. I hoped he couldn’t feel the stickiness of perspiration on my palms. “Alright?”

I shook my head. “I need to go.”

His eyebrows furrowed in obvious concern. “Do you want me to call someone? You look shaken up… What happened?”

Again, I shook my head. “Who’s on today?”

“Mara.” One small win, she was the kindest of all the store managers. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind my early departure.

“Can you please just tell her I had a family emergency or something. I really need to get out of here.” I pushed past Will, past the registers, and burst through the back storage area doors.

“Is this because of Harry?” I hadn’t realised Will had followed me.

I whirled back around meeting his worried gaze. “What?”

“He was here... A few days ago.” He spoke cautiously, he could clearly tell I was on the verge of breaking. “He asked for you.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Rowie, why would I? Look at the state of you right now, I wasn’t about to do that to you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to 10, and forced myself to take some calming breaths. Anything to stop the rising panic. “You did the right thing,” I spoke finally. I could see Will let out a small breath in relief. “I still need to deal with this though, please tell Mara for me.”

“Row--”

“No,” I cut him off before he could go on his usual tirade of why my ex is not worth my time, something that I normally do appreciate. “Just… Let me deal with this. I’ll talk to you later.”

Will pursed his lips, I could tell that he was struggling to keep his opinions quiet. He merely turned and walked back out to the store front. I knew he wasn’t happy, but that was something I needed to push aside for now.

I turned and made my way to the staff locker and retrieved my bag. Time to face the music. I grabbed my phone. The screen lit as I brought it to view. Four messages. All from that same number. My thumb hovered over the notification, my stomach churning at the thought of what could be contained in those four messages. I unlocked my phone.

+44 7106 555555

(7:42 am): Rowie, I know you don’t want to hear from me but can you please give me a call. Harry.

(8:09 am): Please Row

(8:47 am): im desperate

(8:48 am): i need you.

I stared at the four little blue bubbles, unable to process them. A weird sense of calm had blanketed me. My previously hammering heart had slowed, my hands were still, my breath even. Almost robotically, I dropped my phone back into my bag and made a beeline straight out of Waterstones and into the chaos of Gower Street.

im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you.

The words flashed over and over in my mind with my every footfall. My thoughts wandered to every possible scenario as to what he could need. A jostle from a stranger awoke me from my abstraction and I realised I was already on the Euston Square platform. A train had just pulled up, my train I confirmed when I glanced over at the schedule. I quickly slipped on just as the doors closed and found a free seat. I sat rigidly, the sway of the carriage slowly pulling me back into my spiralling thoughts.

****

It felt like time was moving funny. My usual 25 minute journey felt like it was over in less than 5. The encounter with those girls this morning felt like it happened hours ago when it has barely been over an hour. That weird sense of calm I felt earlier was ebbing away and I could feel the panic begin to nestle it’s way back in. And the crowded train platform wasn’t helping me to keep my impending panic attack at bay. I needed a voice of reason, someone to help guide me through. I needed Jules.

I moved with the commuters but reached into my bag for my phone, praying she would be awake. Just as I unlocked my phone though, it began vibrating. Jules’ name appeared on the screen; what are the chances. I answered immediately.

“Oh, Rowie. Thank god,” Jules’ breathless voice greeted me, “I thought you wouldn’t pick up because of work.”

“Yeah, I was there but I left. I was just about to ring you actually. Is everything alright with you?” I tapped my Oyster card against the scanner, keen to get away from the claustrophobic nature of the London Underground.

“Wait, where are you now?”

“Just got off the tube, heading home. There was… An incident at work.” I finally stepped out on the street, the fresh air felt good.

“Home?! Oh god. Listen Rowie, I’m so sorry but I didn’t know what to do.”

Jules sounded truly panicked now, enough for me to stop my brisk walking pace and throw all my attention into the call. “What do you mean you didn’t know what to do? What is going on?”

“It’s-- It’s Harry.”

My stomach dropped, for the umpteenth time today. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know! He rang me, I don’t even know how he has my number. He was asking for you, but he didn’t sound right. He had been to your flat, your old one though, didn’t even know you had moved.” Of course he doesn’t, he wouldn’t know anything that has happened to me in the past two years. “I wasn’t sure if it was an emergency, I didn’t know how to help.”

“It’s okay, you did the right thing by talking to him.”

“No, Rowie I-- Oh, I told him where you live now. Row, I think he’s waiting for you there.”

****

The last time I counted, it had been 643 days since I had seen Harry in person. That’s just over two years. And it has essentially taken me up until now to feel that sense of normalcy return which I craved back when I first ended our relationship. But seeing him sat on my flat’s front step, even from a distance, made me realise that no amount of time is going to stop that visceral, all-consuming feeling he has always given me.

He was hunched over, a beanie pulled down tight over his curls. It wasn’t even cold out yet, but I assume he’s wearing it to stay somewhat hidden. He fiddled with his phone and then tucked it away, tugged at the sleeves of the black sweater he was wearing, clasped and unclasped his hands. I could tell he was nervous. And judging from the twitches of my hands, so was I.

I crossed the street and approached him cautiously. He was so consumed with his thoughts he didn’t even hear me approach. I cleared my throat, crossing my arms in a way to steel myself.

Harry’s head jerked up, recognition immediately flooding his muted green eyes. “Rowie…” He stood. I forgot how tall he was.

“Hello, Harry.” I spoke quietly. I was surprised my tone hid my tumbling emotions so well.

“It’s…” he exhaled, “it’s so good to see you.”

I rolled my lips and nodded slowly, unsure of what to say.

“Can I come up?”

No, no, no, no. My flat was one of my only Harry-free zones. No memories were attached. Everything had been removed that reminded me of him. Seeing him up there now would bring up a slew of problems. “I don’t think that would be best,” I spoke carefully. I was still trying to gauge where he was at mentally right now; he seemed off.

“You know I wouldn’t normally insist but I think it would be best. If someone spots me here you’re gonna be dealing with… Well you know the routine.”

He was right. And especially after what happened this morning, the last thing I need is more obsessive fans waiting outside my flat. “Fair enough.”

I unfolded my arms and grabbed my keys from my bag. Harry followed me up the few steps and watched as I unlocked the door. My hands visibly shook as I twisted the key. I know he noticed but he said nothing. In silence, we walked up the four flights of stairs and down the hall to flat 408. I let us in, promptly locking the door behind us.

My current flat was quite different from the one Harry had known. Paying my way through a Masters degree and some other unexpected financial problems at home had forced me to downsize, coupled with the fact that I was desperate to leave those walls which were filled to the brim with memories of us.

I watched as Harry’s eyes scanned the space - the cramped kitchen with the leaky tap, the speckled counter that doubled as a dining table, the IKEA sofa I had picked up on sale last winter. I knew my living space was a stark contrast to what Harry was likely used to and I couldn’t take his scrutinising gaze any longer. I knew my somewhat cool exterior was beginning to crack, the unwanted feelings of anxiety pushing to burst through and consume me. I needed some relief.

I left Harry standing awkwardly near the doorway and stepped into the kitchen. Dumping my bag on the counter, I began searching through the drawers for what I knew I needed. I was beginning to feel light-headed again, my whole body falling prey to the shakes. Tucked snuggly next to a half-used pack of Panadol and some Strepsils was the bottle I was searching for. The safety cap proved too difficult for my unsteady fingers though. I let out a small groan of frustration.

“You need a hand?” Harry carefully took the bottle from my hands, expertly twisting the top off. He handed it back, but not before peeking at the label, something I wish he didn’t do. “Alprazolam? Isn’t that--”

“Xanax, yes.” I tossed back two pills dry, desperate for their calming effect.

“Oh. Uh, you should be careful with those. They can be addictive and--”

“Yes, I know that Harry,” I snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business but they’ve been prescribed and I only take them when the situation calls for it.”

My abrupt tone took Harry by surprise, judging from the way he shifted away from me. I could see he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to say. I felt a twinge of guilt at my unwarranted outburst.

“It helps with my panic attacks,” I said quietly after a few moments. “I haven’t had a full blown attack in a while though. I’m good at knowing the signs now. Shaky hands, erratic heart rate, feeling faint.”

He nodded slowly. “I didn’t know… How long have you been dealing with them?”

I sighed heavily. I knew Harry wasn’t going to like my answer. “I had my first one in 2015. They were at their worst in 2016 though. That’s when I got medical help.”

“2015… Wait…” I watched as Harry connected the dots. I moved out of the kitchen and towards the sofa, as if putting some distance between us would soften the blow of seeing his reaction. “That’s when we were together. You were having panic attacks and didn’t even tell me?!”

“They weren’t a big deal, I didn’t want to worry you.”

Harry ripped his beanie off and slammed it down on the kitchen counter. I jumped, both at the sound and Harry’s sudden, extreme mood change. “God, Rowie,” he spat bitterly, “I was your fucking boyfriend. I was supposed to worry about you. To help you!”

“It was almost 4 years ago Harry—“

“So?!” He cut me off. “I had some right to know what you were dealing with!”

I could feel my face heating up, not due to panic but because of anger this time. “What I was dealing with? What I was dealing with? You wouldn’t have been able to understand Harry.”

“Try me.”

“You were born for this life Harry, an entertainer at heart able to bounce through life without worrying about what millions of people around the world think of you. But not me. Seeing my name, my personal life, splashed across social media and in news articles. People commenting about me, online and in person. People saying I don’t deserve you. I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Harry’s hands were clenched on the counter, frustration radiating off him. “For two years I have sat and analysed every facet of our relationship, wandering what I did wrong. Repeated that day you ended everything over and over. I wrote a whole fucking album for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I interjected harshly.

“And if you had just told me these things at the time I could’ve helped you through it. Together, like a couple is supposed to!”

I shook my head. “I did what had to be done. It was the right thing for us. And for you.”

“No, it wasn’t. You broke my heart, Rowena.” His voice broke and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I was rendered speechless. My full name hung in the air between us, an uncomfortable silence smothering the room. It seems silly to be caught off guard by my own name, but I’ve never heard him say it. I’ve always been Rowie, his Rowie.

As we both stood there, kitchen counter separating us, staring but remaining unmoving, I felt as though I was truly seeing Harry for the first time today. With the beanie off I could see his hair looked unusually unkempt, his curls limp as though they needed a good wash. His skin had broken out, which I knew only happened when he was stressed, and the dark circles under his eyes confirmed that suspicion. His hands which were always adorned with an assortment of rings were bare. Even his clothes looked disheveled. This wasn’t the Harry I knew standing before me.

“Harry…” I said softly, breaking the silence, “what’s really going on? Why did you need to see me?”

I watched as he hunched over the counter, resting his head in his hands. His fingers twined into his hair, gripping at the root. As he ran his hands through the flat curls, he brought his gaze up to meet mine. His eyes had filled with tears and I felt that immediate pang in my heart.

Without inhibition, I joined Harry back in the kitchen and gathered him up in my arms, bringing his head down to the crook of my neck. As I stroked the nape of his neck, I felt his arms twist around my waist and pull me tight. I knew he wasn’t crying, but I could feel every ounce of emotion through his embrace. And suddenly I felt at peace, and not because of the meds. I hated that it felt so right to be here in this moment, that the one thing that could stabilise me was the thing I drove away years ago.

Harry loosened his grip and I took it as a sign to pull away slightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. “For what? I’m the one who should be apologising for being shitty and leaving without a proper explanation.”

“I should’ve seen it, the struggles you were having. You’re right, this life can be hard. And it was silly of me to just assume that you were coping with it fine. You say that I don’t worry about what people think of me, I don’t. But that’s after years of me being so caught up in it. I had to learn to ignore and move past the crap.”

“I should have told you though…” I said softly.

He drew his hands away from my waist, instead clasping my own hands in his and bringing them up to his chin. I felt the softest graze of his lips as he stared down at me, my heart skittered ever so slightly. “I really miss you, Row. Everyday.”

I nodded, unsure if I could trust myself to string together a coherent sentence.

He sighed heavily, dropping my hands and taking a step back to lean against my oven. I immediately missed the contact. “In 47 days I’m supposed to be announcing my upcoming album. Which means I have about 42 days to get the tracks laid. The first instance of them anyways.” I watched as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “And I am so fucking lost.”

I still stood quietly, unsure of what I could really say. Words of encouragement from me right now would surely feel superficial to him.

“God, last time I struggled to cut down the track list. I had such a backlog of material, it was mental.”

I knew I had some role to play with that. Breaking up with someone just as they were about to embark on launching a solo career would result in an abundance of inspiration.

“And this time I have nothing…” he continued on. “Everything I write is utter shite, and the pressure from the label isn’t helping.”

“Push back the announcement then,” I finally spoke.

He laughed, without humor though. “If only it was that easy Rowie. You remember what it was like when I was in the band, the label asking for a new record every bloody year. That was considered feasible as there were five of us. Now according to them, going beyond a 2 year break between records is ‘not recommended’.”

I snorted, and Harry looked at me questioningly. “Seriously? That’s crap. How many artists have been MIA for years and still come back with another best-selling album. Harry, you’re underestimating your talents a little I think. This isn’t like your early years of One Direction where you guys had to pump out content in order to stay relevant. You’ve put in the hard yards and made your mark, you are here to stay.”

A flicker of a smile appeared on his lips. It gave me the confidence to continue on.

“You could literally release an album that consisted primarily of whale and dolphin calls and it would number one on release day.”

That got a laugh out of him. “Not sure if the label would like that though.”

I approached him slowly. “Well, I would love it. In fact, I’ve already got it pre-ordered on iTunes and saved on my Spotify.” I stood toe to toe with Harry, my fingers reaching out to the hem of his sweater. It was taking all of my self-restraint to not stretch up and trace his jawline, to comb back his hair with my fingers.

Instead, Harry seized the opportunity. Cautiously, he placed his hand to the side of my face. I melted into his touch. His lips parted ever so slightly before rolling them together, his telltale sign that he wanted to kiss me but was unsure.

“It’s okay,” I barely whispered out. I rolled up onto my toes, bringing my arms around his neck before pressing my lips against his. It felt as though no time had passed; we were in sync immediately, our mouths moving with familiarity. I raked my nails up through his hair and he mirrored by running his down my sides.

But as sudden as we had fallen back into routine, Harry pulled away. I couldn’t help a small sound of detest escape my mouth. “Shit,” he mumbled. He unlatched my arms from around his neck and pressed them back into my chest. “I shouldn’t… I know this isn’t what you want.” He sidestepped me and moved as far away from me as possible, which was only a few meters as that’s all my flat would allow.

“Who are you to say what I do and don’t want?” I challenged.

“You just told me the enormous toll our relationship had on you mentally. And I didn’t come here to try and win you back.”

I suddenly felt like I had been used. “So, what? You have no inspiration to write some songs so you come and see me, dredge up old problems, and then run off to the studio? Is that all I am to you now? A muse of emotional trauma?”

His eyes widened. “Jesus Rowie, of course not! I needed to see you because I knew you would be a voice of reason for me. Every person that I have spoken to about this album just doesn't get it. They’re all too… I don’t know. Too close to the project? They all just think I have a bit of writer’s block. My mum told me to clear my head by taking a walk in a bloody forest or something!”

I leant back, taking up the same position against my oven that Harry held minutes earlier. “How can my opinion even mean anything? I don’t know what’s gone on with you for the past 2 and a bit years.”

“And yet, I’ve felt more at ease here with you this past hour than I have for the past 6 months.”

“What, my 3 sentences of encouragement have instantly filled you with the creative juices you’ve been craving?”

“I wish,” Harry chuckled. “But your sense of assurance helps.”

I was about to respond when the buzz of a phone interrupted me. It sounded muffled, so I knew it was coming from my bag which lay forgotten at the end of the counter. It was most likely Jules, checking in to see if I’m alright.

“That’s probably a sign that I should go.” He collected his beanie that he had thrown down earlier and shoved it back on his head, paying no attention to the way it smushed some curls flat against his forehead. “Again, I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. I appreciate that you gave me the chance to talk though.” He jerked forward, unsure if we should hug goodbye or if he should just leave. I made the decision easier for him by crossing the kitchen and wrapping my arms around his waist. Pressing my ear to his chest I could hear the steady thump of his heart, a sound that I have fallen asleep to countless times. I felt Harry press his lips to the top of my head. This hug felt different, like a proper goodbye hug. Not ‘see you later’, but goodbye.

We pulled apart, locking eyes for one last time. “Good luck with everything,” I murmured.

“I’ll let you know when the Harry Styles featuring Whale and Dolphin album will be dropping.”

I let out a shaky laugh before moving around him to unlock the door. He stepped out, gave me one last smile, and turned to walk down the hall. I watched him walk until he disappeared from view, he didn’t turn back once.

That goodbye felt like it was the final closure we both needed, that now we could finally move on with our lives and be relatively happy. Maybe now I could hear and see his name and not feel a clench in my stomach. Or have those cluey fans find me and not dissolve into a puddle of panic.

But despite all these prospects, I knew it wasn’t the ending I wanted. Or the ending I really needed. My feet moved without warrant. I picked up speed, pounded down the stairs almost tripping over. I saw him, he had just stepped out of the building and down the steps. I burst through the door and he spun around, eyes wide with surprise.

“Stay.” I puffed out.

He blinked. Once, twice. “What?”

“I’m asking you to stay,” I descended the front steps and joined Harry on the footpath. “I just did the most cliché, rom-com thing and chased after you to ask you to stay. I mean, all that is missing right now is some rain and we would have the perfect scene.”

He laughed.

“Please, I’m serious.”

“Rowie, after what you said we can’t get back together. We--”

“After what I said we should be getting back together.”

Harry looked at me puzzled.

“I’m not going to be a prat now and try to shoulder all the pressure. I was stupid to not trust that you could help me in the first place. And I’ve gotten better at managing the anxiety.”

He was quiet for a while, staring down at me. I was desperate for something, even just a graze of his hand for reassurance. I was about to revoke the offer, feeling that maybe I had misread the situation, but he finally responded. “Are you sure? I don’t want you… I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“So sure that I ran down four flights of stairs and almost broke a leg for you.”

We both grinned before Harry pulled me in for a kiss. It was short and sweet but felt like home all the same.

“Let’s go up.” I said once we had broken apart.

“Oh… Uh... Actually,” Harry stammered. Oh god, have I suddenly been to forward or something? “I really need to swing by the studio. My phone has basically been in airplane mode all day and I was supposed to be there for a session at 10 am. I’ve been off the grid without even telling anyone.” He bit his lip, obviously unsure of how I would react.

“Go,” I said with a smile. Sure, the timing was crappy but I knew he would be back.

“I’ll be back,” he said as though he had just read my mind. “I’ll bring dinner tonight. Some thai food? Panang curry with fried rice?”

I smiled. He remembered my order. “Don’t forget--”

“Extra green beans in the curry.” He placed his hand on my cheek, bending down slightly to press a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, he turned and began walking up the street, his phone pressed to his ear. No doubt he was finally responding to some very concerned people on his whereabouts. I watched him until turned the corner at the end of the block. I continued to stand there on the footpath outside my flat feeling calm, finally feeling at peace.

It almost seemed silly that this morning Harry Styles was the catalyst for a tumultuous amount of negative emotion, and yet my Harry was the one that was able to calm the storm and ground me.

I suppose I should thank him for that. I’ll do it when he comes home.

#1dff #exchanges

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thenorthreport · 5 years ago

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Have the Los Angles Lakers uncovered “The Secret”?

The date was November 5th, 2019, The Lakers were visiting Chicago Bulls in the United Center at the tail end of a three-game road trip. The Lakers were the hottest team in the league coming off 5 straight wins since losing Los Angeles Clipper's opening night of the and are now sitting on top of the NBA rankings. Coming into this game I thought it was a no-brainer to who was going to win. So confident in the fact that I put a bet on them to come out with the “W”.

All thought the first 75% of the game all I was able to think about was how much money I was going to lose. In the first three-quarters of this game, this Lakers team looked like they smoked one too many bowls. The turnovers kept raking up, the team looked lost offensively with Anthony Davis only being able to score four points in the first half and eight by the end of the third quarter (which he left early in because he got into foul trouble), and Kyle Kuzma looking like a deer in the headlights ever since coming back from an ankle injury. Also had to give a shout out to JaVale McGee for the pass in the third quarter to Otto Porter Jr. for this open three (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPjTfIdF7eU from 6:00-6:08). It looked like one of those games where the team trailing behind could not for the life of them make a push back into the game and all looked lost when the team failed to bring it back into single digits at the end of the third quarter.

But then it happened,

In a situation like this one, there are two types of teams: the ones that will pull their pants down and take what they deserve and the ones who will fight back with BDE. This Lakers team was the latter. Surprisingly a 5-man unit of Alex Caruso, Quinn Cook, Troy Daniels, Kyle Kuzma and Dwight Howard were the ones to score 24 consecutive points for this team starting from the end of the third quarter into the mid-way point of the fourth quarter and it was unbelievable. For starters, Kuzma played aggressively for the limited amount of time he was given to l play in that fourth quarter and was able to put up 11 points on 5/7 shooting in the fourth alone including this sweet off the dribble pull up jumper from the top of the key (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mO798fl-uLo 10:04-10:12). Dwight "The Purpose" Howard was at the right place at the right time on the court coming up with big blocks and bigger rebounds throughout their fourth-quarter run. Caruso played solid on both sides on the ball including a huge steal which led to an and-one. Cook was doing his best Curry impression out there with all the backdoor cuts and off-ball screen including a potential four-point play. Finally, Troy Daniels, the fifth guy on the court who had the opportunity to watch this 14-0 run happen before being taken off for LeBron James. In the end, the Lakers took a cushioning 10-point lead in the last five minutes and didn’t look back and in the end, I won some money.

After this game two thoughts occurred to me: 1. The bench actually resembled some NBA talent and 2. This Lakers team looked professional for the first time in almost 10 years. Now I know what some people might be saying: "This was a win against one of the worst teams in the league considering they are producing bottom 10 in the league in both offensive and defensive efficiency" and "It's too early to be saying nonsense like that" or even "Wait till January or February when Lebron is worn out, Anthony Davis is packing his bags for Chicago and Dwight is already two months released posting workouts videos on Instagram". I'm not saying this team is a favorite for the 2020 NBA finals just yet. The sports season is a long and treacherous journey with many bumps and obstacles on the way. This team will for sure be tested and will have nights where they will feel unstoppable and times where they will feel as if they hit rock bottom. I am not writing this article to jump to conclusions but to simply state facts and the fact here is the Lakers seem to have stumbled upon "The Secret".

Know you may be asking yourselves: "What the hell is this hot shot up-and-coming sportswriter talking about and what secret is he is alluding to?" well person reading this article “The Secret” is something that has been around this league ever since it started and has been the driving force for every single NBA championship team. “The Secret” was first introduced to the general public by Isiah Thomas of the Detroit Pistons in the finals of 1989 where he offers to multiple reporters that he was going to offer the "secret to basketball". In short, he never really gave the answer to the question rather dodges it by telling stories and talking about team basketball. No one seems to mind this and for years “The Secret” isn't brought up again until the summer of 2007 by a writer by the name of Bill Simmons. There is a whole story about him meeting Isiah Thomas in his book "The Book of Basketball" which I highly recommend everyone read at some point in their lives. Back to "The Secret", this idea was eating up Bill Simmons on the inside ever since he was told the concept so when he finally got to meet him, he asked Isiah this question. Isiah impressed with Bill answered as follows: "The secret of basketball is that it's not about basketball".

What the hell does that mean? Well, the short answer to this is that teams were successful because teammates liked each other, knew their roles, ignored statistics and finally, put winning over everything else.

This Lakers team is on a mission whether its LeBron writing off the haters in his 17th season in the NBA, Anthony Davis proving he can make a deep playoff run without any major injury or Howard trying to stay afloat in an NBA Which had turned their back on him. This squad is filled with veteran players who are at a point in their career where all they care about is winning a championship and/or are trying to prove they still belong in this league. This Lakers team seems to have boughten into a culture and the stats back it up.

Something that LeBron James has been known for this past couple of years other than his bigger than basketball mentality is the lack of attention defensive end no joke the guy looks like he’s in dire need of some Adderall. Ever since his last season in Miami, LeBron’s defensive intensity and engagement dropped off a cliff which is understandable considering the offensive load this mans must carry not only day in, day out but by the season. Defense is his cruise control or self-drive (for all the tesla owners out there).

But something changed,

During an interview in training camp, Anthony Davis came out and told reporters he expected himself and (called out) LeBron to make All-Defensive team which at first seemed like a joke considering LeBron hasn’t been seen on the defensive end since Barak Obama was starting his second term as president. But now seven games into this season LeBron has been refreshing on that the end of the floor. LeBron’s defensive starts thus far are his best in years with his defensive win shares already almost one third he contributed in his last season in Cleveland according to Basketball Reference—and we are only seven games into the season(note: I did not want to use his first season in LA as an example because he sat out for around a quarter of the season last year). As well he just looks like he gives more of a s--t on that side of the ball which is encouraging.

On a greater scale like Kanye West, this Lakers defense is going through a rebirth thanks to the coaching of 1A (Frank Vogel, 1B is Jason Kidd) and his defensive-minded attitude towards the game. This Lakers team looks poised on the side of the court everyone seems to have forgotten how to play in 2019. honors. Vogel’s defense is designed for a team like this, a squad of veteran players who know their role on the defensive end with one player who is a gifted player running or anchoring the whole thing which is Anthony Davis, and it is built beautifully for him. In the rotations alone there are six different players who at some point in their careers got All-Defensive team honors. The best example of their new defensive style can be seen when the Lakers were playing the Jazz in their second game in the season. During this game the Lakers game plan for Mike Conley was to weak high ball screen which is when you force the player the same direction every time, he is given a screen it contained him for being 3-11 from the field and 1-5 from three.

Some of the reason for this improvement from 13th in defensive efficiency rating (and before you say that isn’t so bad this teamed ranked bottom three in points allowed off turnovers and bottom ten in second point opportunity identifying these teams hustle was … sorry that was needed to be said) to 2nd is thanks to the likes of Danny Green’s “doing the little things” mentality whether that be closing out shooters, constantly being in help, or boxing out opposing big (yes this is done more than you think) and Dwight’s new “the purpose” role (I must say this is the second time I have made this joke now but can we please start calling Dwight Howard “The Purpose”?). Shout out to coach 1A for using the “no roll man left behind” scheme for Dwight Howard when he is on the floor. For those who don’t know the “no roll man left behind” is a scheme they have been using for Dwight Howard on defense where his job on a screen and roll is to make sure he stays under on screens and not to let the roller get past him to the basket as well not giving the ball handler a clear way to the basket. Other than that Dwight seems to be lighter and more active this year than in the past three seasons and is ranked second in blocks per game on the team at 2.1 behind Anthony Davis’s league-leading 3.0. Finally, the key reason behind this defensive rejuvenation is because of AD. The best way to describe Anthony Davis is a bigger, longer more athletic Draymond Green. The thing about AD on the defensive end is that he’s so gifted at reading the offense and being able to see things before they happen which is crazy to think and with his athleticism and length, he can easily tip passes, block shots and keep up with players on the perimeter. His help defense whether that is in the pick-and-roll or under the basket are elite.

As good as this defense has been there are still a couple of problems that need to be resolved if this team wants to take a deep playoff run. I still believe this team is missing a good on-ball defender to match up with bigger, more athletic wings and the Clippers have two of those. The only player matching up well with players like these is LeBron James and considering his offensive contribution and his mileage I doubt he has the energy to be able to guard a player like that and do what he does on offense. The solution to this would be to sign or trade for a defensive-minded wing-like Iggy (duh) or low-key Andre Robertson or Trevor Ariza (even though he looks like horse s—t thus far). Second, even though their defensive RTG has risen they still rank second-worst in the NBA in points off fast breaks which means they still need to improve on their hustle back to the other end of the floor. For more on this Laker's defense and to see how well they are performing, I suggest watching Laker Film Room on YouTube who do an excellent job breaking this stuff down.

The bench productivity so far surprisingly been key to this Lakers team's success. A couple things that are needed to be improved on is their offensive efficiency off the bench which ranks in the bottom ten in the league but I also believe with Kyle Kuzma back in the rotation and staying on the bench this should improve their rating significantly. This benches defense has been their recipe to success so far so much so that their bench plus/minus is ranked second in the league only behind Dallas according to NBA.com. You can say this bench mob has put MUD to shame (only real Laker/NBA fans should get this). As long as this bench finds their groove on the offensive end and get to the middle of the pack efficiency-wise this bench has the potential to be one of the leagues best and be the key to keeping an aging LeBron and a injury-riddled Davis off the court and not needing them to play high 30’s, low 40’s minutes a night.

After this win against this Bulls team the Lakers have shown their identity and their potential of what they are and maybe— what they can be.

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sandersgrey · 6 years ago

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Hogwarts Has Not Forgotten

Harry Potter AU in which the Founders were not dead, but lost to the world for a thousand of years. They wake up, and Helga is not pleased.

Part one. Part two is here.

Word Count: 1,755

Ao3 link: here.

Albus Dumbledore had seen many strange things in his very long life. The darkest magic had been put on his desk just a few days ago by the boy who had the purest magic protecting him. His life had always been unusual. And yet, nothing had ever prepared him to have a cordial meeting with the founders of Hogwarts.

This was the return of legends in his office and he could not stop smiling.

"Harry, I wonder why you're always involved in such wonders", Dumbledore said, even though he could guess. (His guesses were usually right, except, of course, when they were terribly, terribly wrong.)

"I wonder too, Professor", Harry said. He sounded worn out and kept staring at the founders in what was frankly a quite understandable reaction that proved his exhaustion with this kind of situation. Harry usually tried not to stare at people, famous as they might be. Godric noticed his staring and smiled amused. Harry ducked his head and blushed in embarassment.

"You four can, of course, stay at Hogwarts, even though it might take some time to provide you with adequate quarters. I will-"

"While we appreciate it, Headmaster", Salazar said. He gave Helga what to anyone else would look like a smirk, but she could easily notice the question in his eyes. She smiled. "That won't be necessary. I can assure you that Hogwarts has not forgotten us."

Dumbledore raised a brow, but made no comment. He knew better than to argue about Hogwarts with the founders, even if he was the Headmaster.

"I'm glad that was discussed", Helga started, and Salazar sighed. Out of all of them, he had always been the one to understand her better. Of course he knew what she was going to do. (She loved all of them, of course she did; but Salazar had always been her ally in their shared goal in a way that the others could and did not be. Rowena got too caught in her research and motherhood until she didn't, and Godric went out to have quests when he should have prioritized the students, but Salazar had always been the closest to her heart and the one who had stayed behind, again and again, to make sure their students were okay. Hogwarts was meant to be safe. Rowena had designed the wards, and Godric powered it, but Salazar and Helga had made of the school a home.) "But could I have a word alone with you, Headmaster?"

Godric frowned at her in confusion. Frankly, his own student, wearing red and gold in his black robes, and he didn't notice anything? Helga had taken care of the most fragile students, but Godric had been there, too. Rowena shrugged. She probably understood, despite clearly not seeing reason to rush. (She had understood even less than Godric. Of all of them, it was honestly the most shocking when she had a child.)

"Of course", said Dumbledore, despite his clear confusion. "Harry, if you could give us a moment?"

The boy squinted at the founders and, seemingly not thinking of them as a threat just yet, shrugged, stammered something, and went to the hallway to meet his friends. They hadn't been happy to stay behind, but no one wanted them to start asking more questions than their still-confused minds could answer at the moment.

"Should we go too, Helga?", Godric asked.

"You can go if you want", she said. The 'but I'd rather you stayed' was implicit. Judging by the way he stayed in the armchair Dumbledore had conjured for them, he understood.

"Helga, is this really the time?", Salazar asked. She noticed he only protested the timing. Oh well, they had always disagreed in how quickly these things should be done. She knew he wouldn't leave her to do this alone, though. (He left once. He came back. Hogwarts was his home, too.)

"Yes, I am sure, Salazar."

"Well, I'll go. I have many tests to run", Rowena said, and left. Helga hadn't expected her to stay this time, not with so much lost time and lost knowledge to understand again. She shrugged.

"May I ask, now that everyone who should or wanted to leave already did, what do you want to talk about?", Dumbledore asked. He looked like someone who was not used to having his actions questioned. Helga was looking forward to this.

(Godric had vanquished dragons, and Rowena had created magic never before dreamed of, and Salazar had stopped wars before they even started, but Helga's miracles were quieter, slower, closer to the hearth than they were to dangerous forests and dusty labs and dark rooms. Her miracles grew. They were no less important.)

"You may", she said. "And may I ask who is taking care of the boy that just left this office?"

"Harry Potter", Godric said. "I remember that much. He's quite brave. One of mine, I think."

"He's indeed a Gryffindor", Dumbledore nodded. "Which is why I wonder why you've taken an interest on him, Lady Hufflepuff, but I can assure you the boy is safe where he lives."

"A child does not need to be in my House for me to care", Helga said, voice as cold as the Black Lake in the coldest night of the winter. Godric and Salazar, both already having seen her fury before, did not startle. Dumbledore frowned in confusion. "Now tell me, Headmaster, how are you so sure Harry is safe?"

"You have to understand, Lady Hufflepuff, that the boy has been the target of a Dark Lord since a very young age. Voldemort, that's his name, managed to kill his mother, but as she had died to protect him-..."

"A sacrifice of love", Godric said approvingly. "A last resort, of course, and rarely used, but very effective. I'd guess it's tied to her blood?"

"Yes, in fact", Dumbledore didn't seem surprised that Gryffindor knew. It was exactly the kind of reckless and honorable sacrifice Godric would approve. And, Helga thought to herself, the kind of desperate, protective magic she would probably have done, too. "I had to tie the blood wards to her sister's house. So, you see, the boy is safer there than anywhere else except for Hogwarts, if Voldemort ever comes back, and evidence says he will."

"Do the wards tell you when the boy is in danger?", Salazar asked. He had now that same calculating look in his eyes that had stopped kings a thousand of years before. Helga smirked.

(a snake is a snake is a snake is a snake)

"Yes, actually", Dumbledore looked at Salazar in a way that suggested he was offended and trying very hard not to show it. "It warns me in case of danger."

"What kind of danger?", Helga calmly asked.

"External threats. If the house's wards are affected or trespassed by magic."

"So let me get this straight", said Godric, ignoring Salazar's smirk. "The boy's aunt could have starved him to death and you would be none the wiser?"

"Well, theoretically, yes, but Petunia has accepted the boy in her house-"

"Accepting a kid doesn't mean she took care of him. Doesn't mean she fed him or hugged him or taught him important things. Doesn't mean she didn't hurt him". Helga had a friendly smile in her face that was scarier than Godric's most furious expression. It was a much subtler, but much more dangerous, threat. An illness in your lungs instead of a sword to your stomach.

"I don't believe there's love between them, no, but it's still safer-"

"Oh yes, much better for the kid to die of starvation than with a spell. Tell me, how did you even get to that brilliant conclusion?", Salazar sneered. "Harry was clever and brave enough to disarm my basilisk without dying or hurting someone. He wouldn't flinch when an adult stands up if he didn't have experience with that being a more certain danger."

And we will talk about that idea of letting a basilisk in the castle", Helga promised Salazar, who blanched. "But I agree with Slytherin. His robes barely fit him, and Hogwarts' robes are charmed. There's something wrong. And a life without love, without care, is even a life worth living at all?"

"There's nowhere the boy could stay at summer that would be safer."

"Oh, but there is", Godric grinned. It was the same grin he used to give her after a battle, bloody and dirty, but satisfied he had done his duty and trusting her to fix the rest. "You just said. 'The boy is safer there than anywhere else except for Hogwarts'."

Dumbledore frowned, actually considering the idea for a moment before discarding it.

"No one will be here in the summer to take care of Harry. I won't let a child alone with the house elves for an entire summer."

"And yet you'll leave him with people who clearly aren't doing his duty towards him."

"We'll be here", Helga said. Salazar and Godric looked at her with twin expressions of resignation. "And more important, I'll be here."

"Are you offering to take care of Harry?", Dumbledore seemed stunned.

"In fact, yes. I used to take care of the students who were orphans, or had abusive families. I would be equipped to deal with his situation. If Godric doesn't mind that I take care of one of his?"

"You go ahead", he shrugged, "it's not like I could do it, not like you."

"Are you aware you would have to be his legal guardian in order to take care of him well?". Dumbledore seemed to be slowly accepting the idea.

"Well, yes. But I'm one of the Founders. Would anyone really deny me the guardianship of a student, even a famous one?"

"I don't believe so, no", Salazar agreed with a cat-like smile.

"I believe your idea could work. I'd feel more at ease if you asked Harry about how he feels about it, first, but I'd be glad to help", Dumbledore finally said.

A Founder was powerful enough to protect even Harry Porter, and with four of them in the castle, well, it might stop some of Voldemort's plans before they even start, if they're lucky. And Dumbledore had never enjoyed leaving Harry to fend by himself with the Dursleys.

"I will ask him, don't worry."

Hogwarts was meant to be safe. Rowena Ravenclaw designed the wards, Godric Gryffindor powered them, Salazar Slytherin created escape plans in case they failed.

Helga Hufflepuff took care of those who were inside of them.

#alex wont shut up #my writing #fanfic #hogwarts' hallways #hogwarts #salazar slytherin #hogwarts' hallways au #godric gryffindor #helga hufflepuff #rowena ravenclaw #harry potter #hp

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reaganreads · 4 years ago

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Honeybee: The Busy Life of Apis Mellifera by Candace Fleming - Informational/Non-Fiction

Publication Date: 2020

Rating: 5/5

Justification: This book was nominated for a few different literary awards due to the beautiful way in which Fleming accurately represents the life of a April Mellifera honeybee. The details in both the illustrations and text that went into this narrative are well executed. I chose this text due to the praise it received, but also due to my ignorance in regards to honeybees, and I was very pleased to say I further my own education by reading this book. Overall, I was very pleased with this book as it exceeded all expectations I had as it was beyond informative.

Evaluation:

Illustrations The illustrations within this text are clearly drawings as opposed to photographs, but they are so realistic, that it has the same effect. The illustrations are extremely detailed so that you can easily identify many parts of the bee down to the hairs on its legs, which adds to the overall accuracy of the text. Many of the illustrations are extremely close up which gives the reader a view of a bee that they are most likely unfamiliar with, adding to the overall education the book provides. In many of the illustrations you can even see the Bee’s tongue, which is an entirely foreign concept to me, as it is to many children. The flowers present within the text are also realistic and detailed, making the Bee’s adventure to gather pollen more believable. The illustrations are so detailed that you can even see flecks of pollen on the Bee’s wings as well. Overall, not only are these illustrations beautifully done, but they are also done with such accuracy that it adds to the overall educational impact of the narrative as a whole.

Accuracy As this is an information or non-fiction text, there is a level of accuracy that is expected, and this book exceeded that. Not only does the text itself give factual information, but it also breaks this information down into increments that children can understand, in days. The life of this bee is broken down day by day, which helps children visualize and understand the process easier. Also, at the end of this book, there is a detailed diagram of a bee with labeled and detailed explanations of the functions and body parts of the bee. This is a visual diagram that children can look at while learning about every aspect of the bee. After the diagram, there is another information page that lists facts about bees, definition, online resources and books to help further your education about bees. I also enjoyed how they referred to the bee as Apis throughout the entire narrative, which is short for the scientific name April Mellifera, rather than giving the bee a human like name. This consistency with the names and the continuation of breaking the life cycle down into days creates a level of accuracy that children can understand. Overall, I felt as if this book was very informative, accurate, and explained in such a manner that children would be able to understand.

Design and Layout The design and layout of this book is one I am not very familiar with as the title page is placed in between pages of the book. The book begins with the text itself for four pages, shows the title/cover page, and then returns back to the text once more. This was a very interesting design choice that I had not seen before, but I felt as if it did a great job at capturing the reader’s attention very early on. Towards the middle of the narrative, when Apis is finally ready to fly, the pages are set up as a fold out page, that open similar to a book. This type of page creates another layer within the page itself, it allows there to be two images on one page, while extending the page size drastically. The use of this page format made this scene more important as it was given a unique layout compared to the remainder of the book. The constant question of whether Apis was ready to fly added to the excitement of this scene as well. Additionally, this plot appears to come full circle, as it begins the exact same way it ends, as a new bee is born and the life cycle has restarted. I felt as if this detail was very interesting and provided a sense of closure for the life cycle witnessed in the narrative. Overall, the design and layout of this text contribute to the overall enjoyment of the text and add to the impact certain scenes may have on the readers.

Conclusion: Essentially, this text is very realistic, informative, and accurate in all aspects such as the illustrations and the information being provided within the narrative itself. This book was executed very well, and I, myself, learned a great deal from reading this. I enjoyed the level of accuracy with the illustrations and the additional resources at the end of the text. Overall, this book is a very well written informative book about Apis Mellifera.

Reference: Fleming, C., & Rohmann, E. (2020). Honeybee: The Busy Life of Apis Mellifera (Illustrated ed.). Neal Porter Books.

Sources: Young, T., Bryan, G., Jacobs, J., & Tunnell, M. (2019). Children’s Literature, Briefly (7th ed.). Pearson.

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hsiaochichu · 14 years ago

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Refugee Week: Together: Voices across borders

This exhibition, Refugee Week: Together: Voices across borders, is my personal co-curatorial project with Yingyu Alicia Chen and Yunjie Liao. Also, the exhibition and relevant events are part of London Refugee Week 2020.