#best fake ray bans

[blankvort]

tangentially animal-related hcs 4 the mean girls crew bc i am now responsible for giving a goldfish daddy issues

cady

inexplicably allergic to dogs and always in the first four stages of grief about it. don’t @ me about the medical semantics i just want her to suffer a little

tried to get a job at petco the second she turned eighteen but learned of the above information in the most destructive job interview since janis’s application to be the local coffee shop’s cool gay barista (they were worried that she’d swear at fighter-jet-takeoff volumes if she touched hot coffee) (she did, but only because they started playing a shitty pop cover of one of damian’s fave show tunes) and came out of the building a puddle of mucous and tears

grossly fascinated by the grossest of primitive functions. her insta page is all dope and authentic until you find a selfie taken using the back camera 0.5x with the corpse of an effervescent snail and a bunch of reels telling you how to narrow down what bird species are destroying your garden by the splay of their shit

has a miniature aneurysm whenever movies get stuff wrong about animals. artistic liberties are granted to janis alone. like sure if she’s in the theater she’ll sit through the movie fisting popcorn down her throat but as soon as she gets out of there the entire mall becomes a soapbox for dissecting the bullshit sexual dimorphism of giving female animals eyeliner

thus while i know the headcanon of her loving the lion king is basically canon i think she’s absurdly secretive about it. like she’s burying her merchandise and blu-ray copies under her bed in the dead of night while secreting more sweat than should be possible. she could come out to her parents and elope to antarctica no problem but liking the lion king which implies that lighter manes = stronger lions is a death sentence

probably got banned from a bunch of zoos for interrupting field trips 

janis

had one of those angel/wolf/dragon/whatever hybrid phases as a kid like all good artists. did those like. not quite furry but not quite human animal art commissions on twitter for a while for the funnies but discovered a lucrative market and never turned back

does not know how to hold human or animal babies. like she’s good at taking care of them in terms of general physical and intellectual nourishment but that limp wrist is not supporting any necks properly

mercilessly makes fun of the whole “would you love me if i was a worm” trend. she doesn’t even love most humans what makes you think she has any answer for you regarding that other than that she’d turn you into a super deep art piece museums would purchase for exorbitant amounts

that being said she feels like a vivarium girlie to me. she’s nocturnal like a pillbug and post-canon constantly tries to convince the plastics that her pacman frog is poisonous

feeds her meticulously decorated ant farm gourmet meals every day. anyone else gets microwavable mac and cheese at best

this one probably won’t make sense unless you’re a jenny nicholson fan but she has a fake id for buying wine and turning the corks into those hallmark craft animal sculptures (and selling the open wine bottle to mrs george in back alleys)

damian

his grandma owns the most omnicidal chihuahua in the state of chicago. it’s how he learned to dance with such mental and physical dexterity. how else would he have survived visits to the nursing home

^ attempted to adopt the chihuahua’s children to have his own bruiser woods moment. turns out, even with his classically trained tenor voice, puppies and janis respond to the “drop it” command much the same way. that is to say they do not drop it and the puppies ran away with ninety nine per cent of his anastasia-inspired music box memorabilia

has a love-hate relationship with cats the musical. like memory is one of his top ten karaoke songs but he’s not going to admit it until he’s several fruity seltzers into the night. wishes all the actors in the movie had been replaced with real cats picked off the street before anything else was approved

played milky white in a scammy local production of into the woods and so so so embarrassed about it. he had to be on stilts the whole show

stuck a fish in regina’s backpack sometime in sophomore year but found karen feeding it and talking to it about her worst fears and greatest dreams felt too guilty to continue with the next phase of his plan (sticking a very hot picture of janis in regina’s backpack) (karen probably would’ve tried to talk to the photo too)

regina

musical specific but i think she didn’t Exactly do a matching animal costume with gretch and karen because 1) what can you dress up as when your friends are going as a cat and a mouse. cheese? 2) had cady not moved into the neighborhood, she’d have gone as a sexy lion to ease into the prospect of. you know. with shane oman but going as a sexy lion when your shiny new homoerotic frenemy has a lion pin on half her clothing isn’t quite a non-questionable choice

had a warrior cats phase she keeps under lock and key in the very depths of her closet. her closet is an iceberg of issues that goes shein -> homosexuality -> warrior cats and climate change is doing a number on it

fried a couple of janis’s ants alive with a magnifying glass sometime before middle school. she’s never flirted normally in her life

the bulk of janis’s furry commission clientele. she has so many emails for alternate accounts that she could get every american president ever suspended from twitter if national security let her. that’s including the dead ones

remember the nigh-rabid chihuahuas damian had. yeah she’s been raising those in secret for a few years now. mrs george doesn’t notice because regina hides them in her hair and extensions are, like, totally in or whatever

had a horse girl phase. all her drawings of horses came out like this meme tho. the art freaks nickname was born out of jealousy

gretchen

chose to be a sexy cat for halloween to match with karen because she has no sense of identity. also because she remembers regina’s warrior cats phase

actually a guinea pig person. i’ve never met a guinea pig person but she feels like one. they’re both in dire need of daily interaction and likely polyamorous

but also peri-canon gretchen could not keep a pet alive she’d spend every cent of the wieners fortune on buying the animal’s love

speaking of. her family bought a stable to fuel “her” horse girl phase. she just wanted to make regina happy and couldn’t stay on a saddle if there was an escalator that plopped her right on the horse

cares about the puppy bowl more than she cares about the superbowl

instinctively pets cute animals. if they bite her then she deserved it

karen

chose to be a sexy mouse for halloween because tom and jerry was having a media marathon and she’s into that sort of power dynamic

believes in unicorns more than she believes in horses. this is because she had a horse girl phase for the hottest of seconds before realizing that none of the ponies at the apache trail sale had horns and thought they had their horns cut off for aesthetic reasons

animals love her so much. survived a jellyfish attack because the jellyfish sensed she just wanted to pet something shiny and absolutely respected that. pests of all shapes and sizes evict themselves stat when karen says her mom doesn’t appreciate her hundred thousand dollar lotions being invaded by peril-bringing insects. strays follow her 24/7. gretchen is jealous (of the animals)

thinks tigers are very sick zebras

thinks blobfish are cuter when they’re all flesh putty out of their natural habitats but would also break into a zoo if she thought the animals were being mistreated

was banned from australia at the age of eight because she tried to have a sleepover in a kangaroo’s pouch

aaron

mean girls insta described him as a golden retriever so i’m also hcing him as being allergic to dogs <3 equality

becomes deeply fearful of all fauna after falling into a research rabbit hole for the sake of connecting with cady. what do you mean buffalo are some of the deadliest beasts on the planet and not just a type of chicken wing

kevin g

a preteen vsco girl in her granola advocacy era stuck in a teenage boy’s body. he has saved more turtles than any natucate volunteer by repurposing his rejected business cards to make a selfie stick long enough to stick him in the same selfie as gretchen wieners. the selfie stick has been in progress since daycare. he has also gone to the hospital more than any natucate volunteer do not trust this man with shop class equipment

[innytoes]

Stop flirting with yourself in the mirror, Reggie + any (Flynn? Carrie? Anyone? I can't choose)

Reggie wasn't quite sure why he was invited to girls night when all the other guys - even Alex, who liked pink and pop music and dancing - were banned. Maybe because he had Serious Opinions in the Team Jess versus Team Dean versus Team Logan debate. Maybe because he was basically Julie's unofficial brother and Ray's favourite child and he was always over at the Molina house anyway. Maybe because he liked butterflies and glitter.

What started as sleepovers and movie nights as teenagers evolved into clubbing once they hit their twenties. (And then sleepovers and movies later. Romcoms were way better when you were three fruity cocktails in and had stopped to grab greasy take out on the way home.)

Also, he loved playing Fake Boyfriend for all the girls. It meant they could dance more freely, without guys bothering them, and sometimes it meant that people thought he had three girlfriends at once which was hilariously good for his ego. Even though Julie was like, kind of his sister, which, you know, gross.

"What do you think?" Julie asked, coming out of the bedroom where the girls were getting ready. She was wearing a pretty dress, all shiny sequins, and a pair of black sneakers with white doodles that would light up perfectly under the black light.

"I think Tía would have a heart attack if she saw you wear that," he said, shooting her some finger guns. "You look like a sparkly disco ball in the best way. Those sneakers are going to pop. "

Flynn was out next, and he gave an enthusiastic attempt at beatboxing so she could walk down the catwalk to show off her outfit, some tight faux-leather pants and an eye-popping neon crop top over a mesh body suit. He applauded at her flourish and pose at the end. "You look like a fashion model!" he said, and she grinned. "We're not going to even get to the club before you're swarmed by fashion bloggers! They're going to crown you their queen."

"You look..." she eyed him. "The same."

"Hey!" Reggie pouted. "I spent like forty-five minutes on my hair!" Okay, so he was just in his usual ripped jeans and black tank top, but like, the clubs got hot. He wanted to get his groove on with the girls, so the leather jacket was out. He was still debating if he should wrap his flannel around his waist or not. Even though chances were if he did, one of the girls would be wearing it home because he was a gentleman.

"And it looks perfect, babygirl," Flynn said, and he didn't care if there was a sarcastic undertone to it, he beamed. "But you are not Club Ready. Hold on, let me grab some eye-liner."

And it was only because of many, many Girls Nights that Reggie had perfected sitting perfectly still without flinching while people poked sharp things near his eyes.

But when Flynn was done, well, he looked Good. Like, good good. Like sexy brooding punk who had a secret soft side good. He completely missed Carrie's grand entrance, he was so busy making faces at himself in the mirror.

"Stop flirting with yourself in the mirror, Reginald," Carrie said, impatiently tapping her foot so he could turn around and give her her deserved accolades.

So he did, turning around and beaming. Carrie was, of course, in all pink, a tight dress and heels that Reggie had no idea how she could dance in, and the perfect amount of highlighter on her face. Her lips were all wet and shiny looking from her sparkly lipgloss, and Reggie tried not to think about how kissable they looked.

"You look really pretty," he blurted out, which wasn't anywhere close to his usual over the top cheer squad pep-talks.

Except Carrie didn't seem put out at all. Instead she was staring at his eyes, his eyeliner. "You do too."

Behind him, he heard Flynn and Julie high five, and he couldn't even be mad about it. Maybe if tonight went well, he wouldn't have to play fake boyfriend to Carrie anymore.

[invisibleraven]

Life is like a song

Luke would be the first to admit he's not the best at romance. But this year for Valentine's Day, he wants to try.

Because Julie and Reggie deserve it.

Rating: T

Word Count: ~6.1k

On AO3!

Seems only apt that I celebrate Valentine's Day with my OT3!

This is also my two year anniversary of writing JatP fic, and what better way to celebrate than to write even more?

Hope you enjoy this smoopy little bit of fluff, and know I love you all very much. Happy Valentine's Day!

Luke would be the first to admit he wasn’t the most romantic soul on the planet. Sure he’s got a pocketful of words and an accompanying melody to make you swoon, but outside of that, the gestures from movies don’t come easy.

He’s not great about remembering anniversaries and the like, though Alex has a calendar programmed on his phone to remind him. Even if Luke is prone to losing his phone in the couch cushions more often than not.

Thankfully his partners are more than understanding.

Julie just sighs, rolls her eyes and kisses his cheek when he gives her a sheepish, apologetic smile. She knows he’ll make it up to her with a serenade or a spa day at some point.

It’s Reggie that he hates disappointing.

Sure he’ll smile with understanding, say it’s fine. But his grin never reaches his eyes and Luke sees how it drops when Reggie thinks he can’t see. And no amount of songs or spa days will help erase the guilt from Luke’s heart at that.

This year, he vows it will be different. They have money now from the album, a big house to share, and resources at his fingertips to help plan a killer evening.

Valentine's Day seems the perfect opportunity to get his wooing on.

First step is flowers. Julie is easy, she adores dahlias. They have a garden full of them, but Luke decided to call up a local florist to order a bouquet, because he wants them arranged a little nicely. “I need another bouquet too,” he adds. “Something romantic.”

“Well you can’t go wrong with a dozen red roses,” the florist says.

'Does Reggie like roses?' Luke wonders. He can’t recall him ever offering much opinion on any flower, other than liking the sunflowers that Julie planted under their kitchen window. He figured that he’d rather go for what he knows Reggie likes than stick to a cliché and places his order.

Flowers? Check.

Next is food. Luke has been banned from the kitchen other than to make toast and eggs, so he knows cooking is out. He’d rather not set the house on fire or give either of his partners food poisoning. One bout of that in his lifetime was more than enough, thanks.

He also doesn’t really want to go out anywhere. Sure they can afford better than street dogs now, but fans mob them at places they like eating at and the snootier places only see their bank balance or their newfound rock star status. He supposes he could make an order for delivery but he knows food never travels well.

That leaves asking for help, something Luke knows he doesn’t excel at. But for Julie and Reggie, he’ll do anything-even ask his mom for her assistance.

Emily is thrilled to help, and ropes Victoria into the scheme. Between the two of them they plan a feast that will keep in the fridge and only needs a few minutes in the oven to reheat. Emily leaves the instructions for that so he can hand them off to Julie on the agreement that neither woman will ‘stop by’ to make sure he didn’t do it himself.

Luke rolls his eyes at that, but gives them both a big hug in thanks and agrees to see them the 13’th to pick up the meal.

Food? Check.

~

As it gets closer and closer to Valentines though, Luke wonders if he should decorate. Paper hearts and little Cupids seem kind of tacky, but maybe some candles? Fake ones of course-see again no burning down of the house. He knows Ray has a large supply of fake tea lights for shoots, so one day when Reggie is off with Alex and Julie is out with Flynn, he heads off to Los Feliz.

Ray seems a little surprised to see him sans Julie, and Luke feels a little sheepish. After finally reconnecting with his own parents, he doesn’t think about forging a stronger relationship with his partners’ parent. Sure he sees Ray for family dinner every week, but he knows Julie talks to her dad daily. Plus the man practically adopted Reggie once his parents utterly failed to be competent human beings capable of love. And Reggie soaks up affection like a sponge, giving it back a hundred fold. So he knows the bond between the two of them is strong.

It’s just-aside from giving the man updates on the band or discussing his partners, Luke has no idea what to talk to Ray about. Julie has a lifetime of memories and blood to keep her going, Reggie has Star Wars, baseball, and photography. What does Luke have?

Sure they can chat about music for a bit, or the weather, but that’s pretty limited. Luke vows after Operation Romance is over, he’s going to try and be a better son to Ray. For now though, he offers the man a bright smile and says “I need to ask you something.”

“Hoo boy, was wondering when this day would come,” Ray says as he sits him down at the island, pouring them both a glass of water unprompted. He then holds up a finger and disappears momentarily, coming back and dropping a small velvet bag in front of him. “You may have something different in mind, so I won’t be offended if you don’t want them, but they’ve been in the Alvarez family for generations, so if you want them, they’re yours.”

Luke opens the bag and freezes. Because inside are three gold rings. One is obviously an engagement ring, a single circular diamond with filigree on either side. The other two are plain bands, one slimmer than the other, but he bets it would still fit Reggie’s finger.

“Oh… um… I…” Luke stammers, flailing internally. The three of them had discussed marriage of course, but in more of a nebulous someday thing kind of way, maybe when their relationship could actually enjoy the benefits of that sort of union. Luke didn’t think they needed a ceremony or a piece of paper to legitimize them. Reggie had his own hang ups regarding the institution, given his parents own turbulent marriage-though he had expressed a want to do better, be better than those awful people, and a loving, healthy marriage seemed like a great way to do so. Julie wanted it, he knew that much. Couldn’t ignore how she swooned at the wedding shows he occasionally caught her binging.

Shit.

Luke shoved the rings back into the bag and then into the cavernous pocket of his oversized flannel, croaking out a thanks. “I was also wondering… could I borrow some fake candles for Valentine’s?”

“Going for the big cliché romantic proposal?” Ray asked, offering Luke a gentle, teasing smile. “Whatever you need mijo.”

Ray comes back with a box, laden down with the electric candles, plus a few odds and ends he thought Luke might like. “So, I know you never asked… but you’ve got my blessing, or permission, or whatever it was you were looking for. Though I would still ask Chavala about asking Reggie. She’d be honoured, and she’s the closest thing he has to a parent now.”

“That’s not true,” Luke replies. “He still has you.”

Ray ducks his head and smiles. “He does, you’re right. You do too, you know. I know you still have your own father, but…”

“I know,” Luke replies, clapping Ray on the shoulder. “Thanks pops.”

“Good luck mijo, I’ll be looking forward to hearing how it all goes on the 15’th.”

Luke is sure his smile falters but he leaves, driving off, only letting his forehead meet the steering wheel as he pulls into his driveway. “Fuck, fuck fuck!” he swears. Ray is totally going to expect Julie and Reggie to be engaged come next week and what is he going to tell the man when they’re not? The timing wasn’t right? But what could be more right than proposing on Valentine’s Day?

He runs his fingers through his hair, leaning his head back, looking at the weird stain that mars the ceiling of his car. Groans and asks himself what he’s gonna do. Pulls out the little velvet bag, dumping the rings into his palm.

What is he going to do?

The obvious answer is propose, of course. He loves Julie and Reggie, knows they’re it for the long haul. So what if the union wouldn’t be legal? Why not celebrate their love for each other? Sure, he’s still not convinced that they need it, but… this is the height of romance right? Asking the people you love to be yours forever?

He can picture Reggie in a smart suit, probably tearing up as Luke sings his vows to him. Can see Julie’s euphoric face as she walks down the aisle on Ray’s arm. It makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Oh.

He wants that.

He wants to marry Julie and Reggie.

He looks at the rings again, and takes the biggest one, slipping it onto his left hand. It fits, astonishingly, and-it feels right there. He holds his hand up, admiring how the ring looks on his hand, and he knows he has the stupidest smile on his face. He slips the ring off once more, and puts them all in the bag.

Decor? Check.

Unexpected plan to propose? Also check. But-it feels right, and Luke is stoked to start thinking of ways to ask.

He still calls Reggie’s MeeMaw to ask if she’s okay with it. She bursts into happy tears, so Luke takes that as a yes. Tells him she’ll dig her canopy out of mothballs for the ceremony, will do a blessing in Hebrew if he wants, she doesn’t care what her rabbi will think, she is thrilled to think her grandson will be wed to such wonderful people. Luke even tears up at that. “I have to ask him first, Chavala,” he jokes.

“He’ll say yes, I know he will,” she assures him. “Oh and Luke honey? You can call me MeeMaw.”

Permission? Super check.

~

The music was easy; Luke had a pocketful of melodies and love songs galore to make a playlist with, plus a few songs that he knew that Julie and Reggie liked that weren’t his.

But he wanted a new song, because well, he was still him, and what would a romantic evening be if he didn’t have a song for them?

He considered making the song his proposal, but the inner Alex that lived in his head told him that for once he needed to put the guitar down and speak-not sing-from the heart. That just means he needs to get this song knocked out quickly before he can even think about his proposal speech.

“Do I need a proposal speech?’ he muses to himself out loud.

“You’re proposing?”

Luke turns and there’s Alex and Willie, and oh crap, he forgot they had a band meeting today. Thank goodness it was them that walked into the studio and not Reggie or Julie.

“Oh um… can you forget you heard that?” he asks, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head.

“Decidedly not,” Alex replies. “But I won’t tell them, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He then looks at Luke’s set up. “Please tell me you’re not proposing through song.”

Luke chuckles at that, always knowing that his inner Alex voice will mimic the real one every time. “No, but I wanted to have a song to play them before going into my whole spiel. I might just wing it though.”

“Don’t,” Willie pipes up. “Don’t wing it. I’m not saying write a whole speech, but don’t go into it blind either. Have some idea of what you’re going to say other than just blurting out the question. They both deserve a little more romance than that.”

“Please,” Alex scoffs. “Luke doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body that isn’t devoted to music.”

And that hits Luke where it hurts, because that was the whole point of this right? To prove to his partners-to himself-that he could be romantic. “No, Willie’s right,” he finally says. “They do deserve better.”

“Then maybe put down the guitar and figure out how you’re going to ask,” Alex says. “The song isn’t going anywhere.”

“Right,” Luke says, even as he scribbles down a few more notes onto the page, then at Alex’s glare, closes his notebook. “Got any suggestions? I mean, how did Willie ask you?”

“Luke, we’re not engaged,” Willie replied.

“B-but…” Luke gestures to the ring adorning Alex’s left hand. It had appeared there some months ago, and all he had said was that Willie gave it to him and not to make a big fuss about it. They figured when the two were ready to start wedding planning, they would say so.

“This is a promise ring,” Alex replied. “We’re not the marrying type.”

Luke is confused by that. Can recall when same sex marriage was legalized, the decision brought teenaged Alex to tears. How he proclaimed he would have the biggest, gayest wedding in existence, would rub his husband-his husband!-in his homophobic parents faces. Because it was legal now.

He looks at Alex, whose face says don’t.

Alex who loves Willie more than those adolescent dreams.

So Luke closes his mouth. Rubs the back of his head. “Okay. But I am," Well he is now he amends in his mind, "and I still need help.”

Alex sighs-maybe in relief?-rolls his eyes and sits down on one side of him, Willie on the other, and they help him bang out the song so that then he can actually concentrate on what he wants to say.

Other than just blurting out ‘Will you marry me?’ because both of his friends are quick to nix that idea before it fully forms.

They had a basic outline of an idea when Alex heard the sound of tires on the drive and urged Luke to hide his plans because that was surely Julie and Reggie pulling in. Luke just barely manages to stash his notes when the studio door opens.

Reggie all but plops himself onto Luke’s lap, kissing him sweetly before sliding off so Julie takes his place, her kiss just as sweet, and a little lingering.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, should have known,” she says. “Hope the new song is a killer because you missed snuggles and pancakes to work on it.”

“You mean that you didn’t save me any pancakes?” Luke teases.

“Not a one,” Reggie says, taking Julie’s feet into his lap. “You know the rules.”

“Yeah yeah,” Luke grumbles, his stomach echoing the sentiment. Did he eat today? He’s pretty sure he had something this morning before he headed out, though he can’t recall what.

“Chinese is on the way,” Alex says, “So let’s get this meeting on the go before the dumplings arrive.”

Luke shoots Alex a grateful look, and calls the meeting to order.

Music? Check.

~

Valentine’s Day broke clear and sunny, a tiny chill in the air, and Luke found himself awake as the sky turned a brilliant blue. He glanced down to where Julie was sleeping on his chest, Reggie plastered to her back, face buried in her curls. He was sure the smile on his face was the dopiest thing, but who could blame him when he had two such gorgeous creatures in his arms?

He went through his checklist in his mind. The food was hidden in the fridge, along with a box of cupcakes from their favourite bakery. Red velvet for Reggie, Dulce de Leche for Julie, and peanut butter cup for him. The décor was in the garage, and he prayed that when Flynn popped by later she made the scene look tasteful and not like a Hallmark store threw up.

Initially he had planned to send Julie and Reggie to the spa so he could just do it himself, but they insisted he come with them. The spa wasn’t really his thing, but he knew they had lacked time together lately due to his planning, so he relented.

Plus Flynn had been offended that he hadn’t asked her to help when Alex told him that he and Willie were busy. She had a date that night with Carrie, but she was more than willing to do something special for Julie. Even if Luke did not tell her he was proposing, because he loved Flynn, but she was terrible at keeping secrets.

Frankly he’s surprised the few people who do know haven’t blabbed yet.

He tries to settle back down to sleep, but his busy mind won’t let him, and when his brain is active, his body is restless, and the last thing he wants is to wake either of his bed mates with his jittering, so he slowly eases Julie off him and slips out of bed. She grumbles in her sleep, but then Reggie tightens his hold and she settles back into peaceful slumber.

Luke smiles once more at the spectacular picture they make, wishing he had Reggie’s talent with a camera to capture this moment. Sure he could describe it with song, but sometimes a picture really was worth a thousand words. He tiptoes out of the room, bracing the door as it closes, giving a silent cheer as it doesn’t squeak as it’s prone to do on cold mornings.

He pads down to the kitchen, throwing on some toast and starting the kettle. He much prefers tea, but when it’s a little later he’ll start the coffee maker for Julie who thrives on caffeine. Reggie usually sticks to juice in the morning, but Luke might make him a hot chocolate just for a touch of indulgence.

He scribbles down a few notes as his tea steeps, the house full of notebooks for whenever inspiration strikes any of them. He can see Julie’s elegant scrawl on another page with lyrics that revolve around a glorious sunset. Reggie’s own spiky handwriting on another; his song a lilting ballad about the concept of home that shows real promise, even if Luke still doesn’t like country.

His own song is more disjointed thoughts than anything, swirling imagery about fire and passion, about rising from the ashes after burning. He’s not sure where it’s going-maybe nowhere, he’s got a dozen half-started thoughts and poems in every notebook, but it always feels better to get the words out than let them haunt his gray matter.

He takes a sip of tea, the sweetness of the honey mingling well with the spices of the chai. His toast is naught but crumbs, but he doesn’t seek out anything else, wanting to save the pastries Victoria threw in for when he can hear stirring upstairs. He debated doing breakfast in bed, but he doubted any of them want crumbs in their sheets if the night ends the way he hopes it does.

Hey, he has a romantic night planned, rings stashed away, why not end it tangled together in a primal dance of lust? Not that he thought they owed him sex or anything, but the three of them were rather fond of the act on a regular basis, and special occasions were almost always a given for a tumble in the sheets. He’d even splurged on a fresh bottle of lube and some condoms if they were in the mood to use them.

Luke kept scribbling, tea long gone, only cold dregs left and the words kept flowing. Then he heard a noise from upstairs-Julie he would bet, she’s the early riser of the three of them. He sets the coffee pot to start brewing, and tosses the croissants into the toaster oven. Soon the house smells of dark roast and buttery flaky goodness, sure to rouse Reggie, so Luke preps a mug with cocoa as Julie enters the kitchen.

“Morning mi vida,” she says, popping up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. Luke grins and turns her face, capturing her lips, the minty freshness of her breath mingling with his own spicy sweet one.

“Morning angel, sleep well?” he asks, getting the croissants from the oven as Julie doctors her coffee.

“Always do with you two,” Julie replies, and sighs as she takes her first gulp of bitter brew.

Luke is about to reply when a warm body slumps against his back, nose nuzzling his neck, toned arms winding around him. “Mornin’ babe, you’re up early.”

“Got lonely,” Reggie mumbles, his lips tickling Luke’s skin. “Plus I smelled food.”

“Get ‘em while they’re hot, and I’ll make you a cocoa,” Luke says, prying Reggie’s arms from around him though it feels like he’s trying to untangle from a particularly clingy octopi. Reggie perks up at the prospect of cocoa, and curls around Julie to try and steal her breakfast.

“Get your own cariño,” she says, but doesn’t push him away, merely offers him the plate as Luke puts the steaming milk into the bright orange mug, and then pours himself a glass of water to eat his pastry with. Their breakfast is a quiet affair; small talk and footsie as they eat. Julie looks over what he’s written so far and hums the notes, while Reggie tosses out a line for the bridge that works out a problem that had been bugging Luke. He gives Reggie a grateful, smacking kiss in thanks, making him grin wide and blinding.

Before too long they’re off to the spa, Luke leaving the spare key in the plant outside the door and texts Flynn to remember to leave it there when she’s done. The last thing he needs tonight is interruptions.

Flynn: No worries boy band, I got you. Anything for Jules and Cowboy.

Luke: You’re a good friend Flynnie

Flynn: I know. Now go get your spa on, and remember you owe me

Luke shakes his head with a smile, then rushes off to the truck where Reggie is beeping the horn playfully.

~

Luke just might be a spa guy now.

The massage had finally worked the kink from his neck, he felt scrubbed and refreshed, and supremely relaxed. They had been pampered for hours, fed a light lunch and they had even done Julie’s hair and make up.

Luke had even brought nicer outfits for them to wear after, shyly telling Julie and Reggie he had a plan for dinner. The surprise and love shining from them at that made the weeks of planning worth it. He slips into one of his few shirts with sleeves and nicer slacks, even fiddles with his hair so it’s less bird’s nest and more Patrick Swayze a la Dirty Dancing, can’t go wrong with a classic. Even if he’ll never admit to Alex that the movie he forced Luke to watch when they were ten turned into one of his favourites. He’s taking that secret to his grave.

He’s waiting outside the spa, leaning against the truck, trying not to fiddle with the bag of rings in his pocket when Reggie comes out. He’s unfairly pretty every day, but right now he’s downright devastating. The pants are tight and black, highlighting Reggie’s long legs and slim hips, but the top is what does Luke in; the burgundy shirt shot through with silver and open just enough that you could see Reggie’s flushed chest. He gives Luke a little twirl, which Luke laughs at, pulling him in for a kiss. “Gorgeous babe, as always.”

“You clean up pretty good yourself,” Reggie says, gripping his biceps through the white fabric. Smoothing his palms up and down Luke’s chest before cupping his jaw and kissing him once more.

They hear the door to the spa open, and turn to see Julie, a stunning vision approaching them. Her hair is braided into a crown encircling her head, a few curls floating by her temples. But it’s the dress; a flowy purple number that still clings to her curves, a little heart cut out right by her belly button, showing off the sparkling piercing that she had gotten as a twenty-first birthday present to herself, something that had driven both boys wild. She was also wearing those killer fuck me heels that Luke had fantasies about (Reggie too, they had discussed it at length one evening when they were together and Julie was out, but had yet to divulge the fantasy to her). Maybe tonight that would change.

“Well boys, will I do?” she asked, smile sultry and a touch predatory.

Reggie nodded frantically, and Luke could see him clenching his fists in an effort not to grasp Julie’s hips and pull her in. Luke was in a similar situation, so he reached over and took one of Reggie’s hands in his, offering the other to Julie. “Spectacular as always, boss. Now, let’s go home.”

“Home?” Julie questioned.

“I thought we had special plans?” Reggie added.

“We do, they’re just at home,” Luke admitted. “I wanted us to have a nice night without people peering at us or having to put on airs, is that okay?”

“That’s… really sweet actually,” Julie admitted.

“Who are you and what have you done with Luke?” Reggie joked.

Luke blushes, and ducks his head before lifting it once more to offer a bashful smile. “I know, I’m not the best at romance.”

“We know,” Julie says. “But we also know you love us.”

“Which is the important part,” Reggie adds.

“Yeah, but I-I wanted to make an effort for Valentine’s,” Luke explains. “Because you two are worth so much more than what I’ve given you so far, and I wanted to make sure that you did know how loved and treasured you are by me.”

Julie’s eyes started to water at that, and Reggie sniffled, but they were both smiling and Luke considered that a success, pulling them towards the truck, and turned on his sappy playlist on the way home, the three of them singing along loudly to every corny love song that Luke could find, even the country ones, just because Luke knew how much it would make them smile. Plus-he didn’t mind the genre when it was Julie and Reggie singing it.

His phone dinged with a text as they rounded the corner towards their block.

Flynn: Just left, room is set up, food is warmed, music is playing. Key is back where it belongs, I’m out to go on my date with Carrie. Remember I accept designer labels as thanks-I have a thing for McQueen if you’re feeling extra generous.

Luke had no clue who that was, ninety percent of his shirts were band tees and the rest of his wardrobe was high school leftovers or thrift store finds. He figured he’d have to do some Googling tomorrow and find out how much a McQueen piece cost-but maybe after he looked into how much weddings cost first. He sent Flynn back a thumbs up emoji and turned off his phone, not wanting any distractions.

Luke jumped out of the truck the second it was off, helping Julie, and then Reggie down from the cab, and rushing to snatch up the extra key before holding open the door. Julie gave him a curious smile while Reggie beamed, and then he heard their twin gasps as they took in the living room.

Flynn had outdone herself. Luke might really have to buy her some McQueen after all.

The coffee table had a simple red table cloth over it, with the two bouquets of flowers sitting in nice vases. The end tables and mantle had the fake candles flickering, and the stereo had soft music playing. The kitchen table was set, with the food dished out, still steaming, more candles and a vase with three red roses intertwined in the middle. Luke could see his guitar was sitting off to the side, and the cupcakes were on the counter for later.

Julie turned, looking at Luke. “You did all this?”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a lot of help.”

“This-Luke this is almost too much,” Reggie said, leaning in to smell the sunflowers, their yellow hue reflected in the fake candle light, in the gold of Reggie’s freckles, in the simple necklace encircling Julie’s throat.

“You two are worth it,” Luke replied with a shrug. “Now, let’s eat.”

He pulled out their chairs, and poured them all some wine. None of them were big drinkers, but they occasionally split a bottle, so Luke figured this would be as good a time as any to open one. He lifted a glass, toasting them both before they all dug into the feast his mom and Victoria had prepared.

“Looks like I’ll have to thank tia later,” Julie said as she polished off her plate.

“And Emily,” Reggie added as he set down his fork. “I see those cupcakes, but I’m full, you think they’ll keep for a bit?”

“I’m sure they will,” Luke replied. “Besides, I have something I’ve been working on, so maybe I could play it for you first? Let our tummies settle?”

“Of course you wrote a song,” Julie said fondly, but cupped his jaw and leaned down to kiss him. “I bet it’s amazing.”

“They always are,” Reggie said, pulling her into his arms for a kiss before swooping in to kiss Luke as well. Luke grinned, and directed them to the couch, pulling out his acoustic.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, I love you.”

How do I love thee?

I could never count the ways

Because the reasons outnumber the stars

That shine in your eyes every day.

They say love is patient

They say love is kind

All I know is

I’m glad your love is mine.

I don’t know much about love

I’ll be the first to admit

But I think I do know

From the moment I saw you

You were it.

There’s some who don’t understand

How a love like ours could be

But their opinion doesn’t matter

The best things come in threes.

You are my compass

My true North guiding star

And no matter where we travel

My love is never far.

My heart beats for you

Every rhyme and melody I hear

Echoes your voices

Loud and oh so clear

So today I want to promise

My life, without fear.

They say love is patient

They say love is kind

All I know is

I’m glad your love is mine.

I don’t know much about love

I’ll be the first to admit

But I think I do know

From the moment I saw you

You were it.

You both were it.

Luke finally looks up from his guitar, and maybe his eyes are a little blurry, but neither of his partners are any better, so he figures he’s allowed to be a tad emotional. He kneels in front of the couch, wiping a tear from Julie’s cheek, squeezes Reggie’s hand, and gives a small chuckle.

“Guess that means you like it.”

“That was gorgeous Luke,” Reggie chokes out. "A winner for sure."

“Too bad though, because I never want you to share it with anyone but us,” Julie says.

“No, that’s just for you,” Luke says. “Even if it might be the best thing I’ve ever written.”

The three of them share a small laugh at that, and wipe away their tears. “Cupcake time?” Julie asks.

“Not yet,” Luke says. “I have one more surprise.”

“This one better not make me cry again,” Reggie threatens jokingly.

“No promises,” Luke says, and takes both of their hands in his. Takes a breath, and looks at them. Takes in their eyes; Reggie’s greyish green eyes that remind him of a springtime meadow, Julie’s deep brown, the warmest chocolate with a hint of gold. Their smiles, with the tiny adorable gap in Julie’s to Reggie’s crooked grin that inspired the first song he ever wrote for him.

God, Luke will never get over how beautiful they are, how lucky he is to have them. He squeezes their hands and tries desperately to remember the speech he had agonized over. Finally the words come, and he lets them pour forth.

“I love you,” he says. “I know sometimes I’m not the best at showing it, but I do. You two… from the moment we came together, my heart has been yours. I know we’ve had our ups and downs, trying to figure things out, but even after every hardship, every doubter, every bit of judgement, we’ve made it through. Because… because our love is stronger than all that. We can make it through anything, as long as we have each other.”

“We always do,” Reggie says, and Luke beams at him.

“We always will,” Julie adds, her free hand slipping into Reggie’s.

“Exactly,” Luke continues. “I meant it when I said you two were it for me. There’s no one else I’d rather write music with, or fight with, or suffer through terrible street dogs with.”

“Dios mio, no more street dogs,” Julie argues.

Luke chuckles. “Yes boss, no more street dogs. But… the point remains, that you two are the rest of my life. Even if we never sell another album or write another hit, no matter what, I want you by my side. You are the music of my life, and I want… to make that as official as I can.”

Luke lets go of them then, fishing the bag out of his pocket. A slow realization dawns on Julie’s face and she gasps. Reggie looks a little more confused until Luke dumps the contents into his own palm.

“Luke…” his voice is trembling, his eyes watery. “But you said…”

“I know,” Luke admits. “And I still don’t think we need some ceremony or piece of paper to validate us or our relationship. But I also don’t want to go another day without being engaged, and eventually married to you both. To call you my wife, my husband, to be your husband.”

“C-can we get married though?” Reggie asks.

“Maybe not legally,” Julie admits. “But… we can have a ceremony, say the words. We already have all the paperwork to be each other’s next of kin, we’re as married as we can be… just without the wedding.”

“I want the wedding,” Luke says. “I want you both to have the wedding. To wear the dress, to exchange the rings, to do the stupid thing where we try not to smash cake into each other’s faces. I want all that. Even if we don’t need it. Even if it’s only for us.”

“You still need to ask,” Julie says, extending her left hand.

“I’m fairly certain you know how we’ll answer,” Reggie grins.

Luke chuckles at that, and pulls up the engagement ring for Julie, who finally realizes what ring it is and gives a tiny sob as Luke positions it at her finger. “Whaddya say boss? Wanna get hitched?”

Julie rolls her eyes and lets out a wet laugh. “You absolute goober, yes of course.” The ring slides home, a perfect fit, and Julie sits there, admiring the diamond for a moment before turning her eyes towards Reggie.

Luke grins, and takes the slimmer wedding band. He knows Reggie won’t care that it once belonged to Julie’s abuela, heck, it probably will mean more as a family heirloom. He takes Reggie’s hand in his, ignoring how it’s shaking and looks at him. “Reggie… babe. Will you do me the utmost honour of putting up with me for the rest of your life?”

Reggie barks out a laugh, and nods, too overcome for words as Luke slides the ring down. It finds home at the base of Reggie’s finger, and Luke grins at how right it looks there.

“What about you?” Reggie finally asks, his voice a little rough, like the emotion is choking it.

Luke takes the third ring and offers it to them both. “You can do the honours.”

Julie and Reggie smile, putting the ring on him, and it looks just as good there as it did all those weeks ago when Ray gave it to him. He lets himself be pulled into kisses, silly little ones, deep lush passionate ones, and finally they pull away breathless, smiling too wide with swollen mouths.

“Cupcakes?” Luke proposes, and they both nod, devouring the treats and the rest of the wine as the music plays on. They dance for a bit, twirling and swaying together, no more words needed between them.

As the night gets later, Julie and Reggie start cleaning up from dinner as Luke turns off the candles, and lets them lead him up the stairs, hands clasped together, rings shining in the moonlight. He knows they’ll have to make an announcement tomorrow, start planning every little detail. But for now, Luke lets himself be pushed onto the bed, and thanks his lucky stars that this one time he totally won at romance.

Fiancés? Check.

Best Valentine’s Day ever?

Well Luke isn’t sure, but he knows that now he has a lifetime of them to find out.

[brn1029]

On this date in "real " music history…🙄🙄🙄

August 8th

2022 - Olivia Newton-John

British-born Australian singer, actress and activist Olivia Newton-John died from cancer at her home in the Santa Ynez Valley of California, at the age of 73. In 1978, Newton-John starred in the musical film Grease, which became the highest-grossing musical film ever at the time and whose soundtrack remains one of the world's best-selling albums of all time. She scored the 1978 UK & US No.1 single with John Travolta, 'You're The One That I Want', and the 1981 US No.1 & UK solo No.7 single 'Physical'. She was a four-time Grammy Award winner whose music career included five No.1 hits. Newton-John, who battled breast cancer three times, was an advocate for breast cancer research.

2017 - Glen Campbell

American singer, guitarist, songwriter, television host, and actor Glen Campbell died in Nashville, Tennessee at the age of 81. He became a patient at an Alzheimer's long-term care and treatment facility in 2014. Campbell released more than 70 studio albums and sold 45 million records worldwide. His hits include: 'By the Time I Get to Phoenix', 'Wichita Lineman', 'Galveston' and 'Rhinestone Cowboy'. His guitar playing can be heard on ‘Strangers in the Night’ by Frank Sinatra, ‘You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'‘ by The Righteous Brothers and ‘I'm a Believer’ by The Monkees.

1996 - Kiss

Kiss appeared at the Riverfront Coliseum in Cincinnati, Ohio on their 192 date Alive World Tour. During this show a fan threw his fake leg on stage, which all the members signed and handed back to him.

1992 - James Hetfield

A riot broke out during a Guns N' Roses and Metallica gig at Montreal stadium when Metallica's show was cut short after singer James Hetfield was injured by pyrotechnics. Guns N' Roses took the stage but frontman Axl Rose claimed that his throat hurt, causing the band to leave the stage early. The cancellation led to a riot by the audience who overturned cars, smashed windows, looted local stores and set fires.

1986 - Crosby, Stills and Nash

David Crosby of Crosby, Stills and Nash was released from prison after serving three years for drug and weapons possession. His conviction would be overturned by a Texas appeals court in November 1987.

1981 - MTV

MTV broadcast its first stereo concert with REO Speedwagon who performed in Denver, Colorado, having just released the album Hi Infidelity and the hit singles, ‘Keep On Loving You,’ ‘Take It On the Run’ and ‘Don’t Let Him Go.’

1980 - Plasmatics

The Greater London Council banned The Plasmatics from blowing a car up on stage during their UK live debut at London's Hammersmith Odeon.

1970 - Janis Joplin

Janis Joplin bought a headstone for the grave of her greatest influence Bessie Smith at the Mount Lawn Cemetery in Philadelphia. Blues singer Smith died in 1937 after being refused admission to a whites only hospital.

1969 - The Beatles

The photo session for the cover of The Beatles Abbey Road album took place on the crossing outside Abbey Road studios. Photographer Iain McMillan, balanced on a step-ladder in the middle of the road took six shots of John, Ringo, Paul, and George walking across the zebra crossing while a policeman held up the traffic. The band then returned to the studio and recorded overdubs on ‘The End’, ‘I Want You (She's So Heavy)’ and ‘Oh! Darling’.

1964 - Ringo Starr

The single by The Young World Singers called 'Ringo For President' was released in the US. Such was The Beatles drummer appeal that fans launched a “Ringo for President” campaign in the midst of the Johnson/Goldwater race. A well-organized contingent – most of whose members were below the voting age of 21 – banded together to enter the drummer as a third-party write-in candidate for Commander in Chief.

1960 - Ray Peterson

Decca Records scrapped 25,000 copies of Ray Peterson's 'Tell Laura I Lover Her' because they felt the song, which recounts the last thoughts of a teenager dying from a car accident, was "too tasteless and vulgar". A cover version by Ricky Valance, went to No.1 on the UK chart a month later.

[travel9090]

Tracy McGrady A.K.A T-MAC

Tracy McGrady A.K.A T-MAC

a basketball player in the NBA During the Orlando Magic, he was once one of the best players in the NBA to the extent that he was called Dong-Timac/Sucovy, but his heyday was not long due to continuous injuries and work etics. He used a jump shot from a high RBI using excellent athletic ability and size as his main weapon, and his talent in basketball was also enormous. It has a Michael Jordan-class first step and footwork, so there were many technologies that could be used in attacks, such as pull-up jumpers and post-moves derived from it.

It was so popular that signature basketball shoes were released because of its colorful and concise play style and cool name. His nickname is T-MAC, a combination of his first name and last name.

The ignition height of 6 ft 8 and the wingspan are also long, so it has superior physical conditions in terms of position 2 or 3. He also had enough ball handling to have less than three turnovers per career average game and enough reading skills to accumulate about 5-6 assists per game. He was also one of the best swingmen ever because of his excellent passing sense, and anyway, the swingman over 2 meters handled the ball much better than the decent point guards. When he was young, he tore his opponent's defense from near the three-point line and finished with a dunk or layup based on his tremendous acceleration ability and the best-ever first step (due to his long legs).(The dribbling posture is very low for his height.) In addition to this physical ability, it was the jump shot that made him the NBA's top scorer twice. Although he had the best weapon in breaking through, he was a career-high jumper, with high-quality jumping power, long height and arm shots, bombing the opponent's rim in both the midrange and outside the three-point line, completing the highest-rated pull-up jumper since Jordan. From the opponent's point of view, if he fell, he fired a backstep pull-up jumper after a fake, and if he got caught, he broke through and went crazy. If contemporary Kobe mastered all kinds of dribbling skills based on his unique flexibility and ball handling to fool his opponent, it can be said that he enjoyed a cooler and more straight-line play. Coolness is a plus. That's why all the basketball kids who watch his highlights have to fall for him. It's not for no reason that Kobe said in an interview that Tracy McGrady was the most difficult player to deal with in his active career because he was tall, had tremendous athletic ability and all the skills.

It is meaningless to assume that if you want to, but if T-Mac had a posture or mindset about basketball like Ray Allen, Kobe Bryant, and Paul Pierce, McGrady's status would have been as good as Kobe's now.

However, since the frame was generally thin even in its heyday, the proportion and success rate of rim attack were not up to S-class. On top of that, Orlando - Houston's overwork accumulated all kinds of minor injuries, and his back and knees eventually failed to cope with his dribbling posture and instantaneous agile movements, which were particularly low compared to his first step and height. The fact that the field pitch rate has fallen significantly since 03-04 is due to the deterioration of athletic ability due to such injuries. And because self-management was not perfect compared to other six-star Suga, it caused them to lose relatively quickly.

Long 2 was quite a lot. In other words, the proportion of shots right in front of or near three points was higher, and Alan Iverson, Kobe, Carter, and Pierce had a higher 1:1 ratio with the ball than just a catch and shot, and at the same time, all had quite this kind of offensive style. T-Mac was rather a popular player for his explosive athletic ability in a thin frame.

In fact, McGrady was a player who couldn't afford to break through much, given that he was in his prime before the ban on hand-checking in 2004. At that time, the rim attack itself was a play that consumed a lot of physical strength due to the existence of hand checking. It was less rough than in the 8th and 90s, but in the early 00s, the pace of the league as a whole was slow, and the mid-range was much larger than the under-the-goal breakthrough. Although both Garnett and Kobe Bryant mentioned above were athletes with athletic ability and size, the proportion of medium-distance was much higher than that of breakthrough. T-Mac, which has the thinnest frame among them, was essential in terms of physical strength to use its size advantage rather than breaking through a lot despite its fast first staff. In addition to the consumption of physical strength, the defense range was relatively narrow at the time because the players' overall outer shooting ability was not as good as it was since the 2010s. In other words, it was more difficult to break through due to the exhaustion of physical strength due to hand checking + relatively narrow breakthrough space. If he played after the 2010s, it is more likely that he would have broken through more than this time.

Tracy McGrady is a player who properly combines Paul George's mid-range ability with LeBron James' athletic ability and rim attack. I don't know if it's a trend or a coincidence, but there are no recent NBA players like Michael Jordan, Clyde Drexler, Kobe Bryant, or Tracy McGrady. In other words, they are ace GO (30 points, 5 rebounds, 5 assists) style players based on their excellent athletic ability, but Jimmy Butler is similar to the active SG, but he is still not up to the enormous athletic ability and breakthrough ability shown by those four players, and he is a wonderfully unselfish player and has few shot attempts. Among the young players, Jailen Brown shows swingman's play style to SG, a similar type of player along with Jack Rabin, with good breakthrough, cool dunk, and now improved shooting in 2022 and even selected as an All-Star.

There is a misunderstanding that the defense is weak due to some fans in Korea, but it is bad compared to Corby, who was the biggest rival. In fact, it is hard to defend with the height, wingspan, and athletic ability. In North America, the comparison that "it's below Kobe because it's not as good at defense as Kobe" was very common, but I've never heard from most people that it has absolute defense. To be exact, he had excellent physical condition, athletic ability, and basketball sense, so his defense was very good when he focused on defense. In the 99-00 season, when he was growing up as a high-quality player with the Toronto Raptors, he was an outstanding defender comparable to the Old Defensive Team, even if not the Old Defensive Team. Since then, he couldn't afford to put much effort into defense in his heyday of Orlando due to the excessive burden of offense, but until his second year in Houston, he often showed great performance as a lock-down defender during the season. Of course, he was no longer a good defender because his back tasted completely and his athletic ability fell after his heyday.

Basically, T-Mac was not such a good player in physical strength or durability among superstars of the time at a similar level. In defense, physical strength is more important than skill or athletic ability, and T-Mac was able to show strong defense in each attack with size, long sleeves, and ridiculous athletic ability, but at the same time as the attack, he was not strong enough to play such defense throughout the game. In fact, he showed a good defense by using so many offensive rights because his basic tools were very good. This can be seen from the fact that the team's performance has improved in the Rockets, which can arrange physical strength as it has improved compared to the Orlando days.

[bucklikethedollar]

listen i don’t want to be that guy but wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong

first of all, george would get kung pow penis-ed. he’d see whatever the current joke is and try to create the next hit post (even though he has four followers: elaine, jerry, and 2 porn bots), but he’d accidentally say something that’s somehow interpreted as wildly lesbophobic— cue the kung pow penis. he’d try to defend himself but end up panicking and saying that he’s a lesbian, thereby forcing him to pretend to be a lesbian for the rest of his time on tumblr.

jerry would be pressured by nbc/his manager(s) to use tumblr to market himself, so he’d try to stay on top of the current jokes and memes, but fail miserably. he’d end up quitting tumblr by the end of the episode and the ending stand-up bit would be about how much he hates millennials’ and gen z’s sense of humor.

elaine would try really hard to become a big-name blogger— she’d spend hours creating what she thought were mathematically perfect posts and constantly reblog & send asks to big blogs to try and be mutuals, but eventually they all block her and not a single one of her posts breaks single digit notes.

kramer is of course the only one of them to actually be “successful” on tumblr, obviously on accident. he makes what he thinks are sincere, informative posts that just so happen to be worded in perfectly comedic tumblr slang. he thinks his followers like him for his astute commentary and wise posts but really he’s just the world’s best shitposter and he doesn’t even know it. at the end of the episode he gets hacked and his entire blog is turned into nothing but fake ray-bans sale links.

at the very end of the episode, it’s revealed that @cryptotheism is newman.

Jerry, George, and Elaine all try to abandon Twitter with humiliating results. Jerry is "KUNG POW PENIS'd" off Tumblr within 20 minutes; George discovers that beautiful women are not in fact DM'ing him on Snapchat the hard way; and Elaine has her TikTok account banned after saying "Fuck" on camera.

[highqualityfake]

High Quality Fake Oakleys for Sale Online , Buy High Quality Replica Ray Bans Sunglasses with Wholesale Price. Enjoy Shopping Fake Oakley & Ray Ban sunglasses

[knockoffcheapraybans]

High Quality Fake Oakleys for Sale Online , Buy High Quality Replica Ray Bans Sunglasses with Wholesale Price. Enjoy Shopping Fake Oakley & Ray Ban sunglasses with free shipping. 

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

Steve is 30 and he is the owner of the pool au.

Billy loved his boss the very first time he saw him. Like lust at first sight. The man had a firm body, not as muscular as Billy but strong. Hairy, like a lot hairy. God that chest hair. He loved to run his fingers through it. So he did the best thing he could. He tried to seduce him.

He came to the pool wearing shorts shorter and shorter everyday. He opened his shirts buttons, he wore crop tops, he wore basically slutty everything. But Steve didn't make a move on him. So he changed strategy.

He went for it. And make the first move. He make his hair, apply peach lip gloss to his plump lips and went to Steve's office. He put a show for him, bend over to his desk, made dirty puns, didn't forget to play with his hair while doing it. Steve didn't like that either.

So he gives up. Stop trying to seduce Steve. The man probably was as straight as a ruler. He didn't even look at him. The last day of the work Steve invites him to his office. He was wearing his cool Ray-Bans and his shirt was open to his belly, showing all the chest hair. Billy was drooling watching the handsome man.

He tried to speak without showing his obvious interest. "I'm leaving in half an hour sir. If you're going to order something, you should call someone else."

Steve takes off his sunglasses and looked at Billy, smiling. "I like this side of you. The cocky sassy Billy. Challenges even his boss. You're a bad, bad boy. Aren't you?"

Billy grinned slyly. He started playing with the blond curls that fell on his shoulders without even realizing it. "Well boss, I'd show you what a good boy I am. But you don't deserve it. You get what you give."

Steve get up and stood in front of his desk. Pulled Billy between his legs and started to stroke his waist slowly. One hand in his abs he looked at him and asked "What are you gonna do after pool closed? Didn't you already graduated last year? Are you going to college?"

Billy lost his breath for a second, forget where he is. He gasped when Steve show his hands to his body, started to blush. "I don't have the money for it boss. Not all of us is lucky with dads. I'm gonna look for a new job. Maybe they'll pay better than this one." He pressed his hips to Steve's. He could feel his boner. He looked at him in the eye and smirk naughtily. "I am not satisfied with service here. Not enough for me."

Brunette looks him with a fake shock. But Billy could feel his ego boosting. And he could feel his dick getting bigger and bigger every second. The man was hiding a monster in his pants and he was clearly aware of it.

Steve dropped his hands to Billy's ass and slowly knead them. He put his nose on his shoulder and slowly brought it up to his golden neck, smelling the chlorine and cigarette smelled skin. "The Scoops Ahoy place at the mall is mine too. You should try your chance there. But I must tell you. The work hours are veryyyy flexible. Can you work at nights? Are you flexible enough?"

"Oh boss you should see me at nights. I'm veryyyy flexible." He slowly pulled his body back from Steve's arms. "Alright then. See you at the Scoops Ahoy boss. If I get the job I'll show you all my licking skills."

Steve stood up and stopped the blonde boy before leaving. "Or we can go somewhere tonight? Not boss and employee but as Steve and Billy. I could buy you some drinks?"

"Milkshake and fries. And a movie. Be in front of the mall at eight."

[deancasbigbang]

Title: We Don't Stop (Lights Out)

Author: Franzi

Artist: charlietango

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Dean Winchester/others (mentioned), Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore

Length: 32000

Warnings: No warnings apply

Tags: friends to lovers; DJ AU; covid pandemic times; mutual pining; demisexual Cas; openly bisexual Dean; fluff;

Posting Date: October 19, 2021

Summary: Dean and Castiel are living the life — growing up together and into a DJ duo, they get to travel the world and headline huge electronic dance parties as well as massive hardstyle festivals. Castiel loves to play music, loves his life, and, as he realizes completely out of the blue one day, loves his best friend. However, a worldwide pandemic shuts down all festivals and clubs, and leaves them without a source of income in a tiny apartment. Now, not only do they have to figure out how to make a living as live streamers, but Castiel also has to deal with his feelings for Dean — that is, if he can ever gather the courage to tell him.

Excerpt: When the realization hits Castiel, it is — of course — in front of 30,000 people. Sweat is dripping down his temples, as he looks from the tarmac in front of the stage to the person at his side. The bass is thrumming through his veins, vibrating in his ribcage, and those 150 bpm match his heartbeat. Dean Winchester is beautiful. For a second, Castiel forgets the headphones on his head, playing the beat of the song he was about to transition into. He just stands there, frozen. Zoned out, eyes fixed on his best friend beside him. Dean has his Ray-Bans on, but Castiel can just imagine how his green eyes must sparkle underneath the shades. His full lips are stretched into a wide smile, rows of white teeth shining, as he throws his hands up in the air and pumps his fists, sings along to the melody. Dean Winchester is beautiful. Of course, anyone else would have pointed out how obvious this observation is. Of course he knows what Dean looks like. He’s seen him grow into those gorgeous features, watched that scrawny kid become broad-shouldered and tall. Watched him learn how to use that devastating smile of his to maximum effect. It’s like Castiel knew, but he never saw Dean — and now that he’s looking, there’s the whole nine yards. Scales from his eyes. Bingo. Strike. Man down. And that’s before Dean drops his glasses and winks at him, his grin rivaling the hot July sun, and Castiel’s heart goes from 150 bpm to flatlining. Dean pulls the mic towards him, chants to the audience, riles them on, “Come on! Let me see your hands in the air! To left — to the right — to the left —” This is what their summers are like — a music festival every other weekend, playing for an hour, hanging out with the other artists backstage afterwards or exploring the premises. Dean claps his hands, prompts the crowd to sit down, and Castiel watches in awe like this isn’t the thousandth time he’s watched Dean do this, as he works the song, lets the melodic part fade into the build-up, as the first thud of the bass hits, just a fake drop, and then they’re off, like a canon, into the hook, and the crowd jumps and parties, cups flying. Someone in the front row has a rainbow flag up in the air, waving it around. It’s kind-of ironic and it makes Castiel smile. The sun is blazing and Dean puts the microphone down. For no one to hear but Castiel, he says, “Next up, ‘Enter your Mind’?” Castiel’s heart starts beating again. Then he nods. This is it. This is his life, this is his best friend, this is what he loves. Who he loves. Dean Winchester is bright and beautiful and so very out of his league, so Castiel smiles ruefully and steps up to their laptop to find the track Dean suggested.

DCBB 2021 Posting Schedule

[fismoll7secinv]

In the light of recent ray-ban hacks and suspicious messages flying around I decided to give yall some tips on security

Have I been pwned?

Check if your password or any other data leaked from any site you registered at - at this cool site (my old email from my years as a growing teenager who registered on suspicious sites had been in around 8 leaks and is continuously attacked lmao)

2-factor authentication

Really peeps it’s essential in the current world. It can be a code sent to your phone/email which you have to provide while logging, or clicking ‘confirm’ on a special app on your phone. It adds an additional layer of security, so for example even if someone did breach your password, they will run into this second wall. Imagine you’re sitting there and suddenly you get a notification to confirm your login when you did nothing - that’s an instant alert that something is wrong, plus the attacker won’t log in unless you confirm.

And if you think that it sounds cumbersome and annoying to have this additional step every time you want to log in - most sites or apps can remember your trusted devices, so you do it once and then don’t need to bother until you want to log in on a different device. So really you can even forget that you have this set, while the layer of security is silently backing you up right there.

Don’t reuse your passwords!! 

One leak from a weak site and someone can get access to all of your accounts, even those secure and important ones.

Use strong passwords 

By which I don’t mean Someword123! to have an upper letter, number, and a symbol xd There are literally lists of the most common passwords and when someone wants to iterate through accounts the easiest way is to just run a program which goes through these, and there is a high chance that it gets inside :) Check out rainbow tables if you’re curious. Tbh the best passwords don’t even need to have symbols, the most important thing is that they’re LONG (e.g. 16 characters) so the time it gets to brute-force it is too long.

Password managers

It’s hard to remember different passwords when you have many accounts - use passwords managers! They are secure apps or platforms in which you can save your passwords and other data. Here is a list of some examples to consider.

They’re really cool and convenient, for example when you have a LastPass plugin in your browser it detects the login and password boxes and can automatically fill them for you. But what I want to point out by this is not just that it’s convenient because you don’t need to fill them yourself - every password remembers the site it was saved for. 

One of the common attacks is forging an identical site and scraping the data you provide on it. It’s sometimes really hard to notice that the site you’re logging in or providing your card details is fake. One way to notice it is a slight change in url, e.g. the name should have 1 letter ‘i’ but you notice it has 2, or the domain is wrong, or the site doesn’t have a valid SSL certificate. Well, password managers can help in such cases. When you go to a site and your pass manager says that you don’t have any passwords saved for this site - get suspicious and maybe open the site through the link saved in the pass manager.

Other cool features are auto-generation of passwords (so you don’t need to come up with anything and get a secure generated password), or sharing passwords through this manager which is much more secure than e.g. sending it via email or some chat if you need to.

Some things to be wary of

don’t click on links you’re not certain about (you can download a virus)

don’t open attachments 

especially the ones that end up with .exe (it’s short for executable which means that it’s literally a program. Did you expect a pdf but notice it’s named something.pdf.exe? DON’T CLICK ON THAT)

but also files like ms word or zip (more on that). So don’t open attachments you didn’t expect, and especially don’t turn on macros in them (i.e. the editing mode)

look for forged sites - generally what I described in password managers

your bank never casually asks about your password or ID, so if you get a call/message/email like that, don’t just trust that

there are so many scams like furr durr I hacked your computer and recorded you on your camera but you’ll never find the virus because iT uSeS a DrIvEr give me bitcoins. Lol. Ignore that. Or emails from “widows” who just want to magnanimously offer you money, or amazing business partnership offers, or huge sums of money inherited from someone who died without relatives but has the same surname like you. Or ohno you paid a few cents too little for this package, click on this link and pay for it so we can deliver it. Seriously, it’s so stupid, and yet somehow people get ripped off from that

I know most of these are obvious to most people but somehow it still works, so don’t be one of the unlucky victims.

[blind-veracity]

@pequenachihuahua @reznikovaeva @myrubbahduckehswolf @sw-eet-vi-bes @zonnebloempitjes @disnechanted @2oredaltuosguardo @turnonthebrighlights @sarahhhmannelll @shyforest @revenons-a-nos-moutons @djslurplord @daarlingyourheadsnotright @itsonlysophiee @sadandsasssssy @cierto-hija-cierto-blog @best-fake-smilee @sppectric-blog @frannybamm @-shanevlf @ivanrudy @blackisxverything @goldbaby22 @gladysvania @aveloist @withoutcause @omgshesays @i-amiridescent @landofthemythical @gabriellagracelimon 

Ray-Ban Sunglasses

[tory-ben-hi-shelton]

my favourite quotes from exposure

Multiple sets of handcuffs appeared and were applied. Bailiffs began peeling off the dog-pile like layers of an onion. And there, at the bottom of the scrum, was Kit. He was panting like a marathoner, arms still wrapping the Gamemaster's legs in a death grip. He'd clearly been the first to react.

"Oh, man!" Shelton had both hands on his dome. He seemed winded, despite not having moved during the attack. "Things just got real in here."

"Sorry I froze in there, Tor." Shelton frowned as he shirt wiped his glasses. "Not exactly my 'One Shining Moment', huh?" I waved off his apology. I knew Shelton hated how skittish he could be.

I try to hide the eruptions, but the guys can always tell. They do their best to support me even though it makes them uncomfortable. It's very sweet, but teenage boys make lousy grief counsellors.

The previous semester, Ben had been in half our classes, too, despite being a junior. Obviously, he was no longer around. Sometimes it felt like a limb was missing.

"Jason might be there," Courtney chirped. "He likes you."

"Oh." Not a brilliant response. "Yeah, maybe. I might have a thing, though."

Wonderful. Good job, good effort, Tory.

Behind me, I heard Hi fake coughing to cover his snickers

"I should be a secret agent." Hi blew on his fingernails, then buffed them on his lapel. "Or a magician. Maybe both. Someone write that down."

My hands shot for the Ray-Bans, but Ben caught my fingers mid-flight.

"It's not nice to grab," he said calmly.

"I can't handle all this tension," Shelton moaned. "Too much fighting."

Hi nodded, watching Ben dissapear down a side street. "We need to work on our conflict management. Maybe attend a seminar."

"Make your own?" Hi shifted to look at my face. "Victoria Grace, have you been holding out on me?"

"Tell me everything."

"You're not gonna be happy," Hi warned. "Don't kill the messenger."

"Or his good-looking buddy," Shelton added.

"On Saturday Ben and I drove to John's Islands to see Skyfall."

"You did?" Hi said sharply. "Thanks for the invite, jerks."

Shelton raised his palms. "You were at temple. We're suppose to wait around? Plus, you've seen that movie like five times."

"You still could've asked," Hi grumbled. "I don't—"

"Guys!" I clapped my hands once. "The story, please."

"So many gentleman admirers," Hi mused. "Must be tough, being a heartbreaker."

"Zip it. Unless you wanna see a leg-breaker too."

Ella adopted a mock serious tone. "Will you bodyguards consent?"

I giggled. "If Shelton and Hi are my bodyguards, I don't like my chances. And yes."

"See this?" Ben glanced at the mirror and pointed to his chin. "This is my 'couldn't care less' face."

"Boys?" I stood and faced them. "Something to share?"

"It was a secret." Hi aimed a kick at Shelton, who dodged easily. "Ben made us swear not to tell."

I crossed my arms. Waited.

"Tell Kit we're cutting a music video," Hi suggested as we walked. "Something real gangster, so we need to smash-cut our dance routines. Lay down some visuals. We could offer to let him freestyle rap over the second verse."

"Come on, Sambo!" Hi winked. "Live a little. What are we going to do, rob the place?"

The guard crossed his arms. "Wink at me again, Hiram, and I'll throw you to the wolfpack."

"Did I not mention that?" My brain was truly deep fried. "We went together."

"Oh." Hi and Shelton at once. Ben looked away.

"Hey, wait." I leaned closer to the screen. "You guys wouldn't have wanted to go. I took Ella so I wouldn't be paraded around like Whitney's toy poodle." No one spoke. Nonplussed, I decided to change the subject.

I glowered at Ben from the backseat. I'd given Hi shotgun, having sensed this argument was inevitable. I didn't want to be close. The urge to slap might become overpowering.

"Why don't we use our friendly words?" Hi suggested. "Let's take five, and everyone can say something we like about each other. I'll start. Shelton you're super at—"

"Shut up, Hi!" Ben and I shouted, the first thing we'd agreed upon all morning.

"Must be hell to keep the pH balance correct. I know how it is. I owned a goldfish once."

"Once?" Shelton asked.

"It died. Almost immediately."

"Nice work."

"It's a cultural thing," Hi was saying. "I think you're being insensitive."

Hines snorted. "Do you want me to cuff you?"

"Kinda."

"A minute alone, Tory. I'd like a quick chat."

Ben shot forward. "You can stick chat right up—"

Hi waved at me from across the yard, waiting for his mother to arrive. Apparently he'd body-blocked the first cops to chase me through the house. The police were none too pleased. I owe you one, Hi. You bought me enough time.

Entering the Virals chat room, I found all three boys present.

Uh oh.

They'd met there ahead of time, before alerting me. To discuss me.

I glanced up to see Shelton holding latex gloves. Hi had the ziplocks. Ben handed me a cotton swab and stopper. "Anything else?"

Despite the circumstances, I smiled.

Ruth popped her son on the back of the head. "Mind your manners, Hiram."

"Why does everyone do that?" Hi muttered. "And that was child abuse. In front of the police, I might add."

He looked away. The harbour breeze ruffled his silky black hair. My hand found his, almost by its own volition.

I couldn't be mad at Ben anymore. It was like being mad at my left arm. And right then, I needed my arm back.

A smile quirked on my father's lips. "And you, Mr. Blue? Ready for a good ol'-fashioned backyard barbecue? My daughter will be there."

Ben's uneasy smile was his only response.

Ben reached up from where he was lying with his eyes closed. Smacked Hi's dome.

Hi rubbed his head. "I'm getting pretty tired of that move."

"Then quit being a dope." Ben's lids remained shut.

"Hey, sure. No problem. I just need to—"

Hi lunged for Ben, intending a flying body slam. Ben caught Hi in midair and tossed him downhill in one quick motion. Hi tumbled, rolled, and dropped over the berm of the sand.

"That was dumb." Hi informed the blue sky.

Ben started talking about Wando High. I countered with news of Bolton. Before long, we'd exchanged stories, catching up on the last five months of each other's lives. I hadn't realized how much I missed Ben. How badly I wanted him back at Bolton.

He was right, of course. I was keeping several secrets from Ben. Like how comfortable it felt to be alone with him. How much I'd missed his reassuring presence. His quiet strength.

Ben removed his shoes, plunged both feet into the lapping salt waters Then he leaned back against a post, sighing contently. The little-boy maneuver brought a smile to my face.

"You're staying out here?" Shelton asked. "Alone?"

"No big deal. I don't want Kit to see what I'm up to."

"I don't like it," Ben said. Behind him, Hi looked uneasy.

"No one knows this place exists." I pointed to the other room. "And there's an 85 pound predator in there that loves me. I'll be fine."

...

"Text me when you get home." Ben requested. "Please don't forget."

I hid a smile. "Will do. Bye, guys."

I sat forward at the table. "Okay, so ... like, don't freak out."

That got their attention.

"About?" Ben took the seat across from me, next to Hiram.

"There was an incident last night." Oh so calm. "I'm perfectly okay, but on the way hone someone attacked me on the beach."

"What?!" Three stunned voices.

"That's why you didn't text," Ben muttered.

Ben shook his head in wonderment. "Incredible. It's nice having a genius around."

"It's only genius if it works." But I flushed at the compliment.

I squeezed Ben's shoulder. "Who's the genius now?"

He snorted, looked away.

"You let her go alone?" Ben scolded, slowly working his way down to where Hi was beached. "That defeats the whole purpose!"

"I'm aware of that, Benjamin." Hi tried slinging a leg onto the riverbank, but it flopped back into the rolling current. "But she'd figured out you sent her away from the mine on purpose. You try telling Tory what to do when she's pissed."

"I'll pass."

"How's the leg, detective? Or did my wolfdog bite you in the ass, instead?"

"Hey, at least it's not your birthday. Worst one ever, by the way."

His fist came up. I dapped it with mine.

"For Tory," Shelton said.

"For Tory." All jokes shelved.

Coop was rolling in the leaves, pinning someone beneath his massive bulk.

Ben dove on the tangle with a voice-cracking whoop.

I was no longer alone. The Virals had found me. Ben was beaming, unable to hide his relief. He turned quickly, wiping his glowing eyes. Shelton darted forward and crushed me with a hug. Coop was dancing and bucking, his tail wagging so hard he had trouble keeping balance. My boys. My heroes.

"Do you confronted the twins alone, without waiting for us?" Ben couldn't keep the anger from his voice. "After making us promise not to do anything like that?"

"We can discuss my impulsiveness another time—"

"Oh, we will." Ben assured me.

I ejected the spent clip from the HK45, slammed the new one into place, then worked the slide to chamber a round. Then I held the weapon loosely at my side, barrel pointed toward the ground.

"I'm terrified of you right now," Hi said wide-eyed. "And in love. Take me shooting with your aunt Tempe next time."

"Take the SUV and go. I'll stay with Ella and handle the fallout."

"Out of your mind." Ben said immediately.

"We could drive away without anybody knowing."

"I'm not leaving Tory to face this alone," Ben insisted. "Get serious!"

I spoke softly. "The cops will eat you alive, Benjamin Blue. You have to go."

Ben tensed, ready to argue.

"Detective Hawfield died. This is going to get serious. It's way too much heat for you. Please be sensible."

Ben hesitated. Then his shoulders slumped.

"Maybe you're right." Deep breath. "But you're taking away the other possibility, too."

"I don't understand." I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching vehicle. "What other possibility?"

He smiled wanly. "Ben Blue, The Hero. That kinda would've been nice."

I paused, at a loss for words. My heart broke for him.

"But that's okay." Ben dug keys from his pocket. "After all, we're Virals, not heroes. And that's fine. Plus, I'm not really the hero type."

He turned to leave.

Impulsively, I grabbed Ben's arm. Pulled him close. Smashed my lips against his. The kiss only lasted a second, but also an eternity. Then I stepped back an shoved Ben towards the Explorer.

"Of course you're the type." I was grateful the darkness hid my blushes. "Now go."

Ben stared, stricken, thunderstruck. Hi and Shelton watched, wide-eyed with shock.

"Weirdest birthday ever," Hi whispered.

"Corcoran will survive," Ben commented sourly. "He always does. We crack the case, he gets to be the hero."

My head whipped to Ben. Was that bitterness?

I saw no trace. Ben was smiling, relaxed for the first time in days. Maybe months.

As my father strode away, Shelton and Hi both unleashed dramatic yawns.

"Welp." Hi stretch his arms over his head. "I'd better go check on various things that aren't right here. You coming, Shelton?"

"Oh you know it." Hiding a smile. "Stuff to do. No time to waste."

I descended two steps.

Stopped.

Shot back up.

Wrapped Ben in a bone-crushing hug.

Startled, it took him a moment before he hugged me back.

"He didn't say anything to me," Hi repeated. "And if Shelton were sick, I'd be the first to hear about it. At length."

"So what's the plan?" Ben asked.

"Go inside. Look around. Improvise."

"Brilliant." Hi stroked his chin. "Quick question: Is having no plan the same as having a terrible plan, or are those different categories?"

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums, I finally explain the deal with that record you’ve seen in the background of these videos, with those dudes working in the office. These dudes used to be in the Human League! Oh, and they really hate fascism. Full transcript of the video after the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be looking at the debut album of Heaven 17: 1981’s Penthouse & Pavement. While you may not be familiar with Heaven 17, chances are pretty good that if you know your Western pop, you’ve heard of the Human League! Before forming Heaven 17, Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware were members of the Human League--and they were also the band’s creative core. But they had a very different artistic vision, and one that doesn’t exactly prefigure the success of hits like “Don’t You Want Me.”

Music: “Being Boiled”

Between its plodding electronics and inscrutable lyricism, “Being Boiled” is pretty far from a pop hit. When Marsh and Ware left the Human League, they were keen to continue pursuing this sort of underground, experimental, quasi-industrial direction. Initially, the two of them formed the British Electronic Foundation, or “B.E.F.” It was chiefly a production company that worked with other artists, though they also released some instrumental music under this name. With the recruitment of vocalist Glenn Gregory, who Marsh and Ware had initially intended to front the Human League in the first place, they were set to get right back into the groove of what they had been up to before.

Music: “Fascist Groove Thang”

“Fascist Groove Thang” is the opening track of Penthouse & Pavement, and was one of its chief singles. While it’s much less ambiguous than “Being Boiled,” and much easier to dance to, it’s still got a lot of that subversive, underground charm--enough to get banned by the BBC, anyway. I know they always say that history rhymes, but it’s one of those songs from this era that really feels like it belongs more in our time than the one it came from. I like to think that its unforgettable chorus sounds more like a chant you might hear at a protest march, as opposed to something that belongs in a proper song. “Fascist Groove Thang” is actually based on an instrumental track by BEF, which was simply called “Groove Thang” before being reworked into this political anthem. Both versions are indeed pretty groovy, thanks in large part to the bass guitar work of session musician John Wilson. Compared to their work with the Human League, Penthouse & Pavement has an overall richer sonic palate, with more of those traditional instruments, as well as backing vocals. You’ll hear a lot of those on the album’s title track:

Music: “Penthouse & Pavement”

Penthouse & Pavement’s title track is the longest track on the album, clocking in at over six minutes. Between that, the lush instrumentation, and the honour of being the title track, it certainly feels like an anti-capitalist epic, dramatizing and dignifying the inner thoughts of a common wage-slave. The first side of the album, dubbed the “Pavement Side,” is where you’ll find both of these tracks, and it seems to deal chiefly with working-class struggles, as well as having a bigger emphasis on that bass-heavy groove, musically. Naturally, then, the flip is the “Penthouse Side,” it’s more melodic, and it seems to focus more on the lives of the rich and famous...though it isn’t quite that straightforward.

Music: “We’re Going To Live For a Very Long Time”

“We’re Going To Live For a Very Long Time” is perhaps the clearest expression of the idea of the upper classes living in their own protected bubble, shielded from plebeian woes. There’s a religious dimension to it, in that the narrator manages to live without worries because of their assuredness that Heaven awaits them when they die...but, as the title reminds us, they’re also confident that Earth will be good to them, as well. In case you were worried this message might not be ironic, the song actually stops abruptly in the middle of its final refrain, providing a sudden end for that narrator--as well as closing out the entire LP with a bang, since this is the final track! The idea of the wealthy actively taunting those beneath them is also central to the most rhythmic track of the Penthouse Side, “The Height of the Fighting.”

Music: “The Height of the Fighting”

In “The Height of the Fighting,” that march-like chanting takes center stage again, but it feels very different here. Rather than embodying a sort of grassroots resistance to the consolidation of power, “The Height of the Fighting” seems to be the voice of authority and power coming downwards, fitting the theme of the Penthouse Side. The song’s assertions, like “if you can’t take it, fake it” and “they sent you to it, do it” could be interpreted as pithy, meaningless sayings--perhaps throwaway lyrics, taking up space on a single aimed squarely at the dance floor. However, if you know the context of the Penthouse Side, it’s hard not to see them as representations of the worthless advice the rich often give the poor. Get a job. Get a side hustle. Work harder. Eat out less. And so on. Much like the implicit messages about class in popular culture, “The Height of the Fighting” might seem disposable, but the thrust of what it’s saying is actually deeply warped. Another complex, and perhaps conflicted, track on the Penthouse Side is “Let’s All Make a Bomb”:

Music: “Let’s All Make a Bomb”

Songs against nuclear war were commonplace in Cold War-era music, but “Let’s All Make a Bomb” isn’t quite a typical example. At first, its slow pace and despondent melody make us think we’re getting the usual fare. But the return of that swelling, chant-like refrain style, as well as a closer inspection of the lyrics, reveal otherwise. As the title might imply, “Let’s All Make a Bomb” asks us what kind of character is actually crazy enough to *want* nuclear war, and the character Heaven 17 have chosen is a hedonistic libertine, who sees the end of the world as one big party. The atomic bomb is not a thing to be feared, but “a brand new toy, to idolize.” As dark as that is, the fact that it’s also part of the Penthouse Side, and ostensibly a representation of what those who hold influence and power believe, adds a whole new level of horror to it.

While I love album art, and my interest in it is the main reason I started collecting vintage vinyl, I think [the cover of Penthouse & Pavement just might be my favourite of all time. Penthouse & Pavement’s cover portrays the three members of Heaven 17 as though they were businessmen, co-opting motives like glass-paneled skyscrapers and the deal-making handshake straight from the 1980s corporate visual lexicon. They've even got cities they're allegedly based out of, one of which is their native Sheffield, England. If you look closely, there are a few hints that they’re actually a music band and not a firm, such as the reel-to-reel tape player in the upper right-hand corner, and the fact that in the lower left-hand corner, Martyn Ware is writing music in front of a keyboard. At the bottom, we also find the logo of B.E.F., which brings this grand “joke” full circle. As the “British Electronic Foundation,” they had also billed themselves as a faceless organisation, adopting a name that sounds more at home on a utility bill than an album cover. Here, the trio have done it again, in a bit of ruthless satire towards the rising “yuppie” culture of the 80s. Incidentally, the cover art is a traditional painting, credited to one Ray Smith. It wasn't unusual to commission paintings for album art at the time, but it does tickle me knowing a human being physically painted Heaven 17 as office workers. If the original ever came up for auction, I'd probably shell out for it. It would look great in my office!

Anyway, it’s also worth mentioning how the title “Penthouse & Pavement” adds to that corporate theme. The X-and-Y format recalls the names of many real-life firms and companies, such as Ernst & Young. A “penthouse” is an apartment located very high up in a tall, urban building. Such apartments are usually expensive, and are hence occupied by well-off tenants. “Pavement,” in this context, probably refers to what Americans call the “sidewalk,” the paved pathways where the less fortunate among us might walk past those penthouses, without ever getting too close. Each side functions as an ideal symbol of the kind of people it represents, and the physical gap between them is a visceral representation of economic inequality. The title is also quite pleasingly alliterative!

While Penthouse & Pavement maintains a certain underground integrity, which is consistent with Marsh and Ware’s track record as part of the Human League, it’s still much more of a pop record than anything they had done before. Heaven 17 never went quite as pop as the Human League did without them, and they certainly never saw the same level of mainstream success, but they did pursue an increasingly pop direction with their next several releases. Their 1983 followup, The Luxury Gap, delivers less of that hard-hitting critique of capital, but did produce some of their best-known singles, namely, “Temptation” and “Let Me Go.”

Music: “Let Me Go”

My favourite track on Penthouse & Pavement is “Geisha Boys & Temple Girls.” I like this track’s overall mysterious, otherworldly vibe--it’s not terribly easy to pin down what it’s really about, or what sort of mood it’s meant to convey. The intro to this song sounds more like Karlheinz Stockhausen than something you would hear in pop, and I love how strident and abrasive it is. Given its place as the opening track of the Penthouse Side, and its opening line, “look ahead, on the screen,” I’m tempted to interpret it as a representation of a fictional romance in television or film. It’s dramatic, unpredictable, exotic, and also completely fake and divorced from how people behave in the real world. The idea that entertainments and diversions are part of what shelters the rich from the consequences of their actions is another one of those things that makes this album continue to feel relevant. That’s all I have for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “Geisha Boys & Temple Girls”

[flourchildwrites]

Six years after their escape to the human world, the Grace Field children live together in a happy, harmonious home. Twenty-one-year-olds, Ray, Norman and Emma, have folded themselves into modern society and work tirelessly to provide for their younger siblings, putting the greater good of their family before their personal needs. But as children turn to into teenagers, new house rules come into play. Norman, convinced that Emma will never remember their unique childhood bond, makes a bold proposition — to prohibit romantic relationships between the Grace Field children and end his hopes for something more with Emma once and for all.

Ray knows all too well how dangerous it is to reignite a spark, but for the happiness of Emma and Norman, he's always been willing to burn.

Fandom: Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga)

Relationships/Pairings: Emma/Norman (Endgame), Emma/Ray (Fake Dating), Norman & Ray, Emma & Ray

Genre: Post-Canon (Spoilers for Anime-Only Fans), Fake/Pretend Relationship

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 12,930 words (incomplete 3/5)

A/N: Oh, hi! So it's been a while, but I have neither dropped off the face of the Earth nor given up on this fic. Sometimes, I just have to wait until I'm in the right state of mind to write a chapter. Until next time....

Chapter 3

The cuckoo clock on the wall of Norman’s study is an ornate piece of artistry.  It does its job fashionably and without complaint, keeping time with as much precision as its pendulum can muster.  Norman likes to lose himself to the details of the carved wood.  The dancing animals and crisp steeples that surround the clock face never fail to interest him when his thoughts turn sluggish at the end of the day.

Norman would happily wile away his evening hours waiting for the clock’s melodic chime to sound at the top of the hour, but this is not the gift’s purpose. Instead, it is meant as a constant reminder that time itself is a precious commodity.  Mike Ratri gave him the clock upon his admission to law school.  And though Norman’s enthusiasm for the present has dissipated, he cannot disagree with the principle behind the clock’s coded message.

Time can be a beautiful, but unforgiving mistress; yesterday’s opportunities are lost in the past, gone forever.

Perhaps, Norman muses, for his next graduation, he will receive a high-end watch from the Ratri clan.  Then he, along with his time, will be literally and figuratively shackled to the course the family’s scion has mapped out for him.  Norman knows he is regarded as the best of the bunch, the poster child amongst the extraordinary children born and raised in the demon world.  Ever rational, he cannot disagree with that conclusion.

Still, he rakes a finger under the collar cinched around his neck to loosen his tie and fusses with the first few buttons of his pressed shirt.  The emblem of Lambda 7214 peeks out from underneath the scoop neck of his undershirt, and not for the first time, Norman traces the tattoo’s hard lines where they are exposed.  Compared to this marking, the numbers on his neck are practically forgettable.

Norman isn’t like the other Grace Field children, not since Peter Ratri’s malicious experiments.  Neither can he lump himself in with the other Lambda survivors.  Though Barbara never shies away from advocating for the latter.

“Are you even listening?”  Barbara’s voice is shrill as it comes from the cellphone wedged between Norman’s shoulder and ear.

In the background, he can hear boxing gloves rhythmically pound against a punching bag.  Norman doesn’t like lying to Barbara; he knows what the woman is capable of when she’s feeling feisty.  But after hearing the juicy gossip from the younger children in his house, concerning a date between two certain someones, Norman’s mind refuses to focus on administrative matters.  Still, he tries to soldier on as if nothing is amiss.

“Of course,” Norman fibs.  “You’re concerned about the benefit, just like you are every year.  And every year, it turns out fine.  We get our funding; the Ratri family keeps their moral high ground.”

The sound of hard punch startles Norman, and Barbara pauses, slightly winded, before responding.  “But the problem is that they want Zazie to attend this year.  Zazie!”

The thought causes Norman to pause.  He is wont to recall Zazie as he once was — a child stuck in an overgrown body with a paper bag hiding his face and twin swords strapped to his back.  But Zazie, like his brothers and sisters, has grown into his shaggy hair, and in his case, his mental strides are much more impressive.

“What does Zazie think about attending the benefit?”

Barbara scoffs.  “He’s fine with going for a little while as long as he isn’t on his own, but why should he waste his precious words on that family ?  They don’t fund his therapy out of charity; they pay for it because his hardships, all our hardships, are their fault.”

Normally, Norman would play devil’s advocate.  He would remind Barbara that Mike isn’t like Peter and point out that most of the advances made on behalf of the cattle, Lambda and farm children are funded by the donations of the benefit’s attendees.  But tonight, Norman has no such fight in him.  He has four cases to read and brief, an argument to draft for his legal writing class and a Ray-and-Emma-shaped problem that seems to become more bizarre by the minute.

“I’ll talk to Mike and see if we can defer Zazie’s involvement,” Norman capitulates, rubbing at his neck as his to-do list grows longer.  “He may look like an adult, but he’s still a teenager.  It can be easy to forget.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other side of Norman’s cell phone connection.

“Are you feeling alright, boss?”

A part of Norman wants to laugh, a great big belly laugh that would draw the kind of attention the household head does his best to avoid.  Of course, he isn’t alright.  It was a relief when he first made the decision to impose a fraternization ban, but then, Ray went and asked Emma out just to spite him.

Clever, impulsive asshole.

How could Norman go through with it after that?  Either he would have seemed like a heartless roadblock or a jealous cockblock to his siblings.  And neither alternative comes close to the truth, an inconvenient conundrum that’s been eating away at him for years.

Norman exhales, long and slow, and because he can ordinarily be (somewhat) honest with Barbara, he doesn’t lie to her this time.  He won’t divulge the whole, messy truth.  For that, he wouldn’t even know how to begin.  Heavy the head that wears the crown, or in this case, Norman thinks it’s more along the lines of a cape.

“No,” he responds, “I’m not alright.  But I’m sure I’ll be fine after exams.  I just need some time to rest and get my head on straight.  No need to be concerned.”

There’s a flurry of movement coming from Barbara’s side of the connection, and when she speaks again, her voice sounds unflinchingly clear. Norman braces himself when he realizes she’s paused her evening workout and taken herself off speakerphone.

“Far be it for me to suggest that you shouldn’t be living with the Grace Field kids, but you’re also one of us — a Lambda experiment.  We have different needs, and Lambda House could provide you with much more support or at least a break from being in charge.  Come live with us and let someone else run things over there.  We all miss you, boss.  Maybe someone could help you for a change.”

A lump sticks in Norman’s throat, and he swallows it, ready to make excuses that never arrive.  Words fail him for the umpteenth time in a handful of days.  Suddenly hot, he scratches the back of his neck and shrugs off his collared shirt entirely.  The top of his Lambda 7214 tattoo remains on full display.  Sometimes, he hides it so well that he begins to believe his own lies, but there are moments when the truth corrodes his carefully constructed facade.

Norman may be the brightest child from the demon world, but he’s also damaged goods, marked in ways that Ray (for example) is not.

He could live at Lambda House.  Correction, he should live at Lambda House to better avail himself of the on-call therapists for his night terrors and have his medication managed with more regularity.  But then, there would be no reason for Norman to oversee the Grace Field children’s home.  He wouldn’t be able to drag himself down to breakfast each morning to find her, Emma, sipping her coffee and joking around with the younger children, or feel his heart flutter when wishes him well in the evenings.

Norman stays because she’s worth all the small inconveniences and then some.  The time in between, the numbing hours spent studying, problem-solving and balancing the books, are a means to an end.  Emma always tips the scale in Grace Field’s favor.  Even with an anti-fraternization rule, Norman doesn’t expect his feelings to change.

Nevertheless….

“I’ll think about it,” Norman hears himself say, and he ends the call promptly with promises to be in touch soon simply to put the matter to rest.

Read the rest on AO3!

[softboyscully]

Public School Stuff I Wanted to Share

public school is both beautiful and horrifying am i right

so ill just go by the grades i guess

Kindergarten, first year

i did kindergartden at a catholic school in a relativly big city so this one’s got some shit

we went to church every wednesday, me and best friend (lost track of her when we moved, wish we’d stayed in touch, she was awesome) would giggle the whole time, pretty sure we made fun of jesus once, can’t remember why, possibly the hair

i had the nicest teacher, she was (as i remember her) young, blonde, and super sweet, that was the first and last year i ever had naptime

SPEAKING of naptime

i never slept during it

once i found what i remember being a nut of some sort on the ground, probably came off someone’s shoe

i grab it, turn to sarah (my best friend), say something about putting it up my nose

sarah, apparently having common sense, says, “no dont do it!! we’re supposed to be sleeping!!”

i put it up my fucking nose

try to get it out, just push it farther in

im crying a little bit now, that shit hurts

go up to my teacher

“you’re supposed to be asleep!”

“i have a nut up my nose and it wont come out”

teacher tries to get it out, but it wont budge

just. sends me back to my mat

that was it

the art room was tiny

like re-purposed broom closet tiny

there was a copy of the mona lisa in the hallway, someone had drawn ray bans on it with a pencil, never got replaced

there was a creepy-ass basement i went down to after school, we ate cheeseballs and sandwiches with some kind of meat, mayo, and that kinda yellow bread

someone broke his leg down there once, think an older kid threw him at the ceiling or something

we learned how to play Silver Bells with actual bells in music class

Kindergarten, second year

i remember these two teachers as the evil step sister-type look, but it might be my little kid imagination

but seriously they were horrible

we learned stuff in a room that was more middle-school styled, except everything was green or black and it was v dark

me and sarah attained a new friend, john

honestly i think we would’ve stayed friends for a while if i didnt move away

i have two vivid memories

one is of me really wanting to go home, so i walked by the teacher’s desk and did a fake sneeze

they laughed at me and told me to go sit back down

the other is  john leaning his chair back and then falling, so me and sarah went to help him back up

it was funny, so he did it again

and again

me and sarah were laughing, had the time of our lives

after the maybe fifth time the teachers said “john can get back up by himself. sit down and stay there.”

one of the reasons we moved was bc i got sent a letter from my fourth grade buddie

most of the words weren’t spelled correctly, many letters were backwards

my mother was horrified

ofc now we know it was probably a learning disability 

1st grade

this is when i moved

beginning of school i was ASTOUNDED we didnt have uniforms, one of the best things ever to happen to me

nothing wrong with this teacher, she was cool

thing is i was a little shit

told everyone my dogs died (they did but i was maybe three when it happened, i remember it not)

all my personal narratives were bullshit (only one sticks in my memory, wrote it about celebrating christmas AND hanukkah with my dad’s friends who were jewish, i have never even met those friends)

had a crush on this kid, best friend (she was terrible and helped wreck me emotionally) told me to kiss him in music class. me being a stupid ass bitch, i did it, aND HE GOES TO THE TEACHER AND CALLS ME OUT. at the end of class she gets both of us to stay for a bit, AND I DENYIED EVERYTHING. i walked across the fucking classroom, kissed him on the cheek, ran away giggling, told my teacher i didn’t do anything, AND GOT AWAY WITH IT. i’ve embarrassed myself further with this child but thats another story

2nd grade

i loved this teacher but honestly he was absolute shit

like. all he did was play the guitar and sing with us

never actually taught us stuff???

middle of the year, my mom goes in for a parent-teacher conference, he tells her i dont pay attention is math.

“what do you mean?”

“she doesn’t listen, she just takes out a book and starts reading.”

“........have you.... tried taking the book away?”

“sure, i could try that.”

“o....kay”

he also told her i’d be a girl who’d grow up to love spellcheck (which i do lmao)

like ???? why not just??? teach me to spell????

there was this one dude who one day showed up, gave me a pink stuffed cat, and then asked me where i lived

funniest thing was he lived on the same street as me

something that is vivid in my memory is showing up to class one day and realizing that i was wearing my regular clothes over my pajamas

also we had fish

every day someone else was in charge of feeding them

one of the times it was my job, i grab the fish food and walk over to the tank only to find all of the fish floating on the top

i screamed “THE FISH CAN FLY?!?!?!?!?!”

everyone ran over, all of us scarred for life when Mr. G walks over and goes in the most normal voice ever “no theyre dead”

we held a funeral

the cause of death is still undetermined

3rd grade

this year just draws a blank for me

all i know is that whoever the teacher was, they neglected to teach me how to tell time from a clock

also we learned the Cotten Eyed Joe dance in gym around here

4th grade

i had two teachers this year

one was the same one from 1st grade, the other one was a total bitch

made a girl named hannah ball her eyes out once, never apologized

i was (and am) and avid reader, so my reading skills were high above average

instead of being proud of me she told me i was weird, not normal, and too smart for a 4th grader, so i MUST be cheating. 

she was the start of a lot of self confidence issues for me ngl

this was around the time i went and got tested for ADHD (me and my grandmother almost broke down on the highway but thats another story), Mrs. M (the nice one) was super supportive when i told her why i was leaving early but Ms. S (bitch) told me ADHD wasn’t real and i just wanted to be special for once

she sucked, Ms. S

5th grade

this is getting super long so this’ll be the last one i do

but my teacher..... Mr. F was A+++++

he legitimately taught me math

we had i guess like,,, a buddie class we switched with sometimes

the teacher of that class was Mrs. R, who had crazy red hair and many freckles

at one point she referenced a meme and my entire class started screaming

also there was another Mrs. S (to differentiate this one will be called Mrs. Su)

she was kind of crazy

she was the astronomy teacher and she told us many times that the moon landing was faked

once she handed out sunscreen and had everyone put it on their whole body (this was in december, fyi)

Mr. F also hosted an ‘archeological dig’ which sounds cool but in reality he had a bunch of arcade prizes from his childhood buried in little flower pots we dug into with plastic spoons

also heres some stuff i cants pinpoint the time of/happened in multiple grades:

someone held a who-can-scream-the-most-like-a-goat contest

a guy named Makenzie won

remember we planned it while the teacher left the classroom so the teacher walks back in and one by one everyone in the room starts screaming, there was some applause, a few kids got a standing ovation

we cleaned out our desks in the middle of the year, i found 3 socks and a dog treat in mine

like how the fuck did any of those things get there

and where’s the fourth sock

b o t t l e f l i p p i n g

but no seriously there were at least five water bottles stuck in the ceiling in the cafeteria

my sorta friend charlie was obsessed with paper airplanes

one time he might’ve broken the world record for longest time in the air but he was counting in his head and it was at recess so there was no video

four square and gaga ball would be played no matter the setting, time, or conditions and it was super competitive

like if you could get to king in four square you got the everlasting respect of everyone

and everyone was super educated on four square special rules, special plays, that kinda shit

no but guys i grew up with bus stop, candy store, haunted house on mondays, haunted mansion on fridays, zombies was fair game unless it was Zach, Ryan, Chrissy or Vee

me and one other guy named andrew were the only known pjo fans, had the time of our LIVES making refrences

“HEY ANDREW IM NOBODY”

“I HAVE WAITED YEARS FOR YOU, NOBODY, COME HERE AND FACE YOUR DEATH”

“hey annabeth, i thought you looked like a princess when i first saw you. i printed out a picture you sent me casually and kept it with me. i snuck along on a quest so i could save you, endangering myself immensely. i held the sky for you. when you talk about your crush on luke, i get jealous. beckendorf understood, but hes dead.”

“ikr we’re literally the best of friends”

“RIGHT”  

also the first time we finished mark of athena we were in the same classroom and we individually dropped the book, stood up, looked at each other, and screamed “WELL FUCK YOU TOO RICK RIORDAN”