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scottstiles · 7 years ago

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i was tagged by @clarz - thank you for this! rules: answer questions given by the person who tagged you, write 11 new questions of your own, tag 11 people.

i’m gonna tag some people today cuz i worked hard on this and it took a long time...whoops. no pressure XD @wellsjahasghost @tylerstitties @runicscribbles @xproskeith @anomalagous @ginevraslovegood @quicklikelight @westhallen @lozenger8 @prudence-halliwell @malecbellarke

omg i’m sorry i just realized it’s really long. this is what happens when you take 2 days to answer a tag game. feel free to skip my answers and head to the new Qs if you want! or neither! love you <3

1. Do you find it frustrating that although you know how certain things “work” (for instance, how a love interest not calling you back automatically increases your interest), you can’t help but being drawn in? Can you give me an example? (For the record, this principle describes the entirety of my complicated one-sided relationship with one Harry Edward Styles.)

Yeeeeah i feel like most things in my life approach that level of frustration tbh. I have very little self control sometimes. I’m covered in a haze of addiction, and my impulse control/temper lives on a volatile little rickety branch in my brain where there’s always a lightning storm in the distance. Okay so what I mean is (and I’m not sure i really understand the question but I’m trying), I find it extremely frustrating that I am always aware of what the outcome will be and yet I constantly put myself in the position to be frustrated and/or disappointed by it. Did I get it? Like, if we’re talkin about celebrity obsessions, or having a crush on someone (which, yeah, I guess I kinda remember what that’s like irl), I suppose I’ve come to terms with that kind of distant admiration thing being divorced from reality- I mean, it’s been a life long struggle, so it doesn’t really get to me as much anymore. Usually. The “fangirl” in me is very, very young, and I don’t really know her anymore. If I’m talking about fighting my impulses or my mental health, or like, leaving earlier so I’m not late and then angry in traffic.... that’s a bit more frustrating. I will never leave early. Why? I don’t fucking know. And it’s the Worst. Idk if that fits with your question but yeah, I know how my behavior affects my mood and I could change it, but I don’t, and I can’t help it.

2. What is the longest book or series of books you’ve ever read? Were you at a loss when you finished? Do you generally like series or prefer stand-alone books?

The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind! I love it so much. Haven’t read it in a long time, but that shit is like over 20 books and he’s still writing.. a legend. I was at a loss several times at the end of certain books that I thought were really gonna be the End, but then he made some like, spin off series a bit. So we’re good. Generally I love a good series, but there are so many stand alone books that I adore so.. I don’t know. Why am I writing so formally? This is tiresome, I’m gonna stop now. Stupid capital letters.

other series i love include everything in the tolkien universe, and of course harry potter, and also the percy jackson books. tolkien is pretty epic, to say the least, and rick riordan is fucking prolific, so hp is like, on the small side in terms of series (tho i did reread the last 2 at least a dozen times, and the audiobooks on many a long drive). also those motherfukcing maze runner books were like... there’s not that many of them, but that one i can definitely say left me at a loss. i’m still not ready to watch the last 2 movies but i hope to one day. for dylan.

3. Ever seen a therapist or gone to a support group? Did it help?

yup. i’ve seen quite a few therapists. i don’t think it’s helped in the long term, and i’m not sure it helped in the short, though there was a time i liked it because i was indulging my self analysis, but that for sure wasn’t helpful. i tried a couple cbt therapists thinking that could be a good way to go, but nothing ever really changed, so it’s hard to tell what’s going wrong- is it the therapy or is it me? idk i just think on the whole it’s got a negative color for me. i still see someone once every few weeks, but it’s a chore. this is really completely against everything i believe about therapy, btw, and i def considered becoming one when i was in university. i do think it’s beneficial, i guess just maybe not to me.

4. What is the longest road trip you’ve ever taken? Did you drive or were you just a passenger? What is your favorite road trip ritual, if you have any (the particular gas station snacks, the car games, the fights over music choices, the rest stops, etc.)?

oh my, well i’ve been on a few road trips in my life, but probably not as many as you americans do. the longest one was probably as a child, when i was about 3 or 4 my parents took us across the states, to the grand canyon (i don’t think we actually got there) in our mustard yellow vw bus. i had to be too small to remember but i definitely do (my dad’s a photographer so the boxes upon boxes of film helps): - sleeping on the ceiling in the bus like on a fucking shelf that stuck out above the driver seats. it was way too cool. - staying in a trailer park and walking over to this little building where there was some scary movie playing that had spinning wheels on fire (i think it was like some 80s horror version of rumpelstiltskin or something). i can literally picture a scene from it, just can’t really describe it. traumatizing. - playing on a beach somewhere (cape cod?) and having something nip at my little toes.

on other trips with friends we’ve shared the driving, but the most recent one from LA to vegas my friend wouldn’t let me touch the rental wheel. he thinks i’m a terrible driver. it was ok tho i got to take pictures instead.

i don’t really have a fave ritual since i don’t do much road “tripping” per se, but since i’ve lived in both toronto and new york i have done a shit ton of driving long distance, and i absolutely love it. my fave thing to do is make sure i have enough show tunes and stand up comedy on the playlist, and even some cds on back up, so i can lose my voice on the drive. usually i have some good ol’ tim horton’s french vanilla and a croissant on the side to keep me going, and if it’s long enough i usually stop somewhere for some french fries and/or a coke to wake up. god i love driving.

5. Which do you find increases more rapidly, your age or your idea of what age is old?

ugh. my age. i don’t feel old but that stupid time nonsense says otherwise. it needs to stop.

6. Do you talk to your animals when no one else is in the room? What do you say to them? Do you talk to animals you see on the street, at zoos, in your yard? How much of a face does an animal have to have to be talk-to-able? (For example, do rodents count? Birds? Fish? Cockroaches? WHERE’S THE LINE)

absolutely. i talk to pretty much fucking everything, animals or otherwise, i don’t care who’s in the room. there is no line. the line does not exist.

7. If they cooked, which dish of your mom’s/dad’s/parental figure is or was your favorite? Which was your least favorite? Do you often cook dishes your parents used to make for you for yourself now, as an adult?

welllllll my parents do cook, but over the years i came to really dislike a lot of my mom’s cooking.. habits, lets say. my dad is great on the bbq, and with all meats, but my mom is usually the organizer and most often the chef. her staples are chicken and brisket, sometimes salmon, in various ways. the problem is i’ve always been a picky eater, and tho my own tastes have branched out, my mom still thinks she needs to cook everything super plain and sometimes it’s kinda gross. like, she’ll make some fancy chicken for everyone else and throw a boneless breast covered in teriyaki sauce in a casserole in the oven for me. it does NOT taste good. but she can make a really great schnitzel, and brisket is hard to do wrong. i don’t make anything for myself the way she does it really, but my eating/cooking habits are all wonky anyway.

8. Do you ever check your voicemail? Do you answer calls from numbers you don’t have programmed into your phone?

i check it if someone left a message, why wouldn’t you? what if it’s an emergency? in fact, my best friend does not. so i guess.. that’s a thing. i for sure do not answer any call that doesn’t show a name that i recognize- even then it’s a stretch. i have to really want/need to talk to you, otherwise it’s gonna be on my terms. my phone and i have a hate-hate relationship.

9. How often do you go to the grocery store? Are you good at it? Do you have any kind of strategy or list prepared beforehand?

i go when i run out of something i wanna eat; my store is right on the corner. i basically just do the curve around the breads/fruits/veggies if i need it, then head to the aisles which i skim from the back where the frozen/refrigerated stuff is, poking in to the aisles i need to grab the shit i’ve run out of. i eat pretty much the same way most of the time so my list is in my head (which is not always a good place, but i try hard. if i forget something i go back for it next time).

10. Do movies frequently make you cry? Do you find you’re more likely to cry in the theater or at home? When people are around or by yourself?

oh hell yes. if they’re good or i’m in a mood. i don’t think it matters much where i am if it’s public or private, the cry will come if the moment is right, and i could give no shits XD

11. Have you ever seen the sun rise? Did you kind of like the weird, slightly chilly liminal space of it, or did you just wish you were still in bed?

yes i have, in so many different contexts. mostly i watch it rise because i stay up That Late most of the time (except this time of year, i haven’t seen it in a good while), wishing my ass was finally in bed going “fuck. there’s the sun again. way to go me.” but i’ve also experienced that first bit. out in the desert after a 16k hike, sweat pouring off my skin and fire burning on the surface, hissing it away. standing on top of an ancient mountain facing the dead sea, limbs aching from climbing it with the sun racing at our backs, trying to get to the top before we missed it rise. ya. sunsets are pretty, too.

so how am i supposed to think of 11 questions?? i hope none of these are from some post i saw one time, i’m gonna try to be original without rambling too much:

1- if you could go back to one major decision you made that impacted the path of your life and change it, would you? what was it? how do you think your life would be different? or don’t answer those second two questions, if you don’t want to.

2- in what direction does your belief lean (like, you don’t have to agree with my description of it, but what fits your image best):

a single/multiple divine power that controls every facet of our existence (or like, any traditional religious worldview), with or without free will?

a harmonious interconnected universal complex that directs matter and energy but is affected by our existence in said universe?

everything is just a series of random events passing through time and everything that happens, everything we do, makes the next thing happen, but it could have happened any other way as well.

do these things make sense? idk try and figure it out.

3- on that topic, what do you think happens when we die? do we go to heaven/hell or some other religious construct? do we have a soul that sticks around? reincarnation? do we just... end, and decompose, and that’s it? what do you really think? are you afraid to find out you were wrong?

4- tell me about a moment in a movie or a show that made you go all tingly inside, like, that really special tingle, and every time you see it you get those feelings again.

5- what’s your go-to method for letting out stress?

6- what are 3 of your favorite words (english or otherwise)? why do you love them? the way they sound? the way they look? what they mean? (i usually would answer this based on sound, kinda like fave color, just a feeling).

7- this isn’t so original but i wanna know- if you could live in any other period of time, in any part of the world, what would it be and why? or would you even? would you if you could choose your station/place in society?

8- is there anything you’ve ever done or ever happened to you that you absolutely never ever could ever tell anyone about? not even your soulmate or someone who would never judge you? if so, does it bother you, or do you have it tucked away in your mind and never think about it?

9- which teen wolf cast member would you get along with best? not who would you like to be in a relationship with, but who do you think you’d have the best relationship with (romantic/platonic/otherwise)? if you don’t think you know any of them well enough... which one would you bone? boooooooooone all night long?

10- do you have a talent/skill that you feel is really underrated or underused by you or others? is there something you’re really proud of but have nobody to brag to about it because nobody you know really cares at all? brag to me.

11- do you think it’s truly possible to be happy if you never have a significant other(s) for the rest of your life? could you ever be?

THAT’S ALL FOLKS. wow i can’t believe i wrote all of that shit and you read it. way to go us. thanks again, clara!

#clarz #tagging games #personal #personal info #food mention cw #death mention cw #i can't believe how much i just fucking wrote imean.....#sorry

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toldnews-blog · 6 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/sports/the-team-fueled-by-250kg-of-food/

The team fueled by 250kg of food

There’s no doubt for those at the west London club, however, that Omar Meziane has been worth every penny.

Tucked unassumingly behind a Starbucks café and a sports bar at the Harlequins’ training ground, the team chef quietly goes about his business. While his corner of the kitchen is small, the food that comes out of it is plentiful.

With just one other chef for company, Meziane works quickly and efficiently. Over the course of the morning, fragrant smells begin to fill the air and piles of food accumulate.

On the menu today is Korean chicken — and lots of it. Vast trays of legs and wings are coated in a thick, sticky sauce, alongside 30 kg of potato wedges and huge bowls of brightly-colored salad. Close to 100 players and coaches will assemble for lunch just after midday, and Meziane predicts little will be left by the end of the afternoon.

Size is not the only thing that matters when it comes to feeding a rugby team. In his 10 years working as a performance chef across a range of sports, Meziane’s core ethos has remained unchanged.

READ: Record crowds expected for England Women game

“When I’m cooking for athletes, the first thought I have is about creating delicious food. Trying to make them happy, trying to create an environment where food is king,” he tells CNN Sport.

Meziane’s CV is impressive. He cooked for the England football team at last year’s World Cup in Russia, and the year before that was part of the under-20 setup crowned world champions in South Korea. His other former employers include England Cricket, British Rowing, and Harlequins’ Premiership rivals Wasps.

On top of that, Meziane has recently released a cookbook alongside England international James Haskell. He is, so to speak, a man with a lot on his plate. The Quins players are keen to keep him at their club for as long as possible.

“We joke that he’s our marquee signing,” club co-captain Chris Robshaw tells CNN Sport.

“He brings a lot of happiness to us all, especially when you go in and see the quality of the food he produces and the variety … Hopefully we can keep him away from the FA [English Football Association] for a while and keep him here.

“The wings we had today are always pretty special, it’s quite a nice treat. The good thing about Omar is he knows on our hard days he’ll give us a little bit more a treat and obviously on the easy days he takes it a bit healthier. It’s just a great balance.”

READ: World Rugby official could quit if Pacific Islands excluded from new league

Meziane works with club nutritionists to draw up a menu for the week. Players tend to start the week with red meat and then turn to carbohydrates and lean proteins as game day approaches.

Rugby players come in all shapes and sizes — from speedy scrum halves to powerhouse props — and the amount of food each one consumes can vary.

The demand for quantity is not as great as the British rowing team, for example: “The heavy men during race season would eat anywhere between 6,000 and 7,000 calories a day,” explains Meziane, “a huge amount of food, especially when you consider it’s all incredibly lean, good food. It wasn’t burgers and chocolate bars.”

Quality is always important for Meziane. If he makes mistakes, people will let him know. When things go wrong in the kitchen, he finds it “personally upsetting.” But what about when he gets things right?

“I think the best compliments I actually get, especially after all these years of working with athletes now, is if they say nothing, you know you’ve done a really good job,” he says.

“There have been instances where you get really great feedback, like a particular footballer telling me that my rice pudding is particularly delicious. But generally speaking, athletes, especially when you move into game day are so focused on their job that they’ll very rarely say anything. So when they say nothing, I know I’ve done a good job.”

READ: USA ends sevens title drought with won on Las Vegas soil

There seem to be few unsatisfied customers in for lunch at Harlequins. The players roll off the training ground and a queue quickly forms as Meziane begins to load plates with wings, legs, and wedges.

While he’s the only person in the room not donning club colors, there’s no question that he doesn’t feel an affinity within this environment: “I feel so much a part of this team at Harlequins and I’ve felt so much a part of other teams I’ve been involved with,” he explains.

As for game days, he feels every win and loss as keenly as any team member. It’s a way of living and working he’s come to love.

“You have highs and lows. When you win it’s the greatest feeling in the world, when you lose it hits us as staff as much as it hits the players,” says Meziane.

“I think the thing with working in sport is it becomes incredibly addictive. That feeling of being a part of something that not many people get to experience is very special.

“I don’t think I could ever revert now back to normal life.”

#latest sports news #news sport #Sport #sportnews #sports articles #sports breaking news #sports latest news #sports news headlines #sports news in english #sports scores #The secrets to fueling a sports team - CNN #today's sports news #today's sports news headlines

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mildlymaddy · 8 years ago

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I wrote a thing! :D The Lourry follow-up to my Another Man ficlet! Very non-angsty compared to the previous one, and also less PG. Another installment is planned but god knows when I’ll actually write it.

It was nice, having you over, Harry texts him the next day. We should do it again.

With or without the kiss? Louis types before he can talk himself out of it.

Harry’s answer takes a while.

Whichever you prefer.

“Fucker,” Louis grumbles, but he feels his lips trying to stretch into a grin and he can’t help the slight shaking of his fingers when he types back: I’m fine either way.

Good to know.

God, he’s a hundred percent fucked and no mistake.

They'd moved on to the kitchen after Harry begged him to stay. It was a bit early for dinner, but Louis could tell Harry needed something to keep himself busy, so when Harry asked if he was hungry, Louis said yes.

Harry seemed much more at ease in the kitchen than he’d been in his living room, less like a guest in his own house. Louis perched on a bar stool, leaning back against the central counter, and watched Harry move about, taking vegetables out of the fridge, filling a pan with water, sticking bread in the oven. The thought that Harry may have planned for Louis to stay for dinner, buying everything for a home-cooked meal, made something warm flutter timidly in Louis’s chest.

He still remembered how it had been, sharing a flat, both of them standing in the kitchen at three in the morning, restless from how big the world felt, trying to make a meal of what little non-expired food they had in their fridge. They’d both been terrible cooks, but it never seemed to matter. He could still see Harry bent double with laughter, wearing nothing but his ridiculously tiny pants and a chef’s apron, while the fish sticks were burning in the pan.

Harry’d been a kid back then, all cherub cheeks and impossibly big eyes. He wasn’t a kid now. Now he filled up the space, filled up his own body in a way Louis himself never really seemed to.

“Want something to drink?” Harry asked him, startling Louis out of his reverie.

“Sure. D’you have any beer?”

Dumping their undrunk tea in the sink, Harry got Louis some fancy beer he'd never even heard the name of, and uncorked some red wine for himself.

It got easier to talk then. Harry clearly felt at his most comfortable in full host mode, and the beer loosened Louis’s nerves. It helped that the conversation was easily filled with Harry’s thousand-and-one stories about his time filming Dunkirk, and Louis encouraged him to tell them all, liking the excited glint in Harry’s eyes as he talked about what, to Louis, sounded like months of torture, but to Harry had apparently been a game-changer.

“So you’re gonna keep on with it then?” Louis asked at last, extending grabby fingers for Harry to give him some of the cheese he’d just cut into pieces. He closed his hand too soon, trapping the tip of Harry’s fingers against his palm for a second, and hoped Harry hadn’t felt the shiver that went through him at the touch.

Harry turned his back on him, bending down on the carrots he was chopping with renewed concentration. “If I can, yeah. It was… Playing someone else? Like… I know it sounds stupid,” he said, turning round, a hand nervously playing with his short hair, “but not being myself? That felt amazing. Like… like being totally free.”

That was a little more heartfelt than Louis had anticipated, and he nodded noncommittally before taking a sip of his beer, not quite meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry shook his head and turned back to the stove, looking like he regretted admitting to it, so Louis reached a foot out and gently tapped Harry’s calf. “No, I get it,” he said when Harry glanced back. “Must have been nice.”

“It was more than nice. I wish… I don’t know how to explain.”

Harry didn’t say anything for a while after that, busying himself with his cooking. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the pans, his white t-shirt speckled with red from when he’d stirred the tomato sauce with a little too much enthusiasm. Louis opened himself a second beer and, feeling warm and buzzing from the alcohol, let himself watch Harry.

It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Years of constant scrutiny had taught him never to look at Harry for longer than was strictly necessary, and to never, ever, let his eyes wander down to any part of Harry’s body that wasn’t his face. Hell, even his face had been dangerous. Look at his eyes too long, and people would say you were mooning. Look at his lips, and… well.

For the first time in a long time, there was no one here to watch him watch Harry, and Louis felt the thrill of rule-breaking as he looked his fill, taking Harry in from head to toe, letting his eyes wander along the tattoos on his stupidly muscular arms, the rips in his jeans, down to his socked feet, for once free of the boots Harry was so fond of.

When he next looked up at Harry’s face, Harry was staring at him, eyes wide and unblinking, and Louis quickly turned away, feeling his cheeks flush.

“I don’t mind you looking,” Harry said, voice a little strangled.

Louis pretended like he hadn’t heard, grabbing the closest piece of paper and focusing his attention on it. It was just a bill for a recording studio session, and Louis soon put it back on the counter.

“Started recording already, then?” he asked, finally daring a glance in Harry’s direction. Harry was once again bent over his chopping board, mincing herbs. Louis wondered exactly how many healthy greens Harry intended to put into what Louis was pretty sure was supposed to be bolognese pasta.

“Just a couple songs. I’m still trying to figure out what I want them to sound like.”

Louis nodded, picking at the label of his beer. Harry was way ahead of him there. Louis still had no idea what he wanted to do next. He’d always thought he’d just write for other people, but all the lyrics he’d come up with so far felt too personal to give them to someone else.

“Alright! Enough fooling around,” Harry said, taking a deep breath, both hands braced on the kitchen counter. Louis looked up, heartbeat picking up. Harry turned around, looking solemn. “... dinner’s ready.”

Louis’s tension must have been visible to the naked eye, because Harry broke into a grin, clearly proud of his little trick.

“Are we eating directly from that pan then?” Louis said with a roll of his eyes, tapping Harry on the shin. Harry didn’t move, and Louis tapped him again, eyes fixed on the tip of his shoe as it bumped against Harry’s jeans. He suddenly wished he’d taken his shoes off when he’d come in. He extended his leg again, pressing the side of his shoe against the side of Harry’s shin and sliding it up to his knee, before sliding it back down all the way to Harry’s heel, nothing but white static in his ears as he brushed Harry’s jeans up, rubbing against Harry’s sock-clad ankle and trying so hard to feel it through the rubber of his shoe.

He let his leg fall back down, feeling vaguely sea sick, and kept on staring at Harry’s ankle, stuck in a moment he had no explanation for and didn’t know how to end.

Harry saved him, in the end, with something as simple as a clearing of the throat and a cocky, “Well, I’ve splurged on some plates lately, so we could be crazy and use those…”

“Living the high life, I see,” Louis said, glancing up with a little smile. Harry grinned.

“Help me set the table? I even have some cutlery.”

��Oh well, if you’re gonna go all fancy on me…”

They ate in the kitchen, Louis snatching some of Harry’s wine after his beer was done. Harry asked questions of his own, most of them about Freddie, and Louis answered as best he could, trying to take no notice of Harry’s keen eyes on him, or the touch of his arm against Louis’s as they bent over Louis’s phone to look at the videos he’d taken.

“That kid’s got attitude, wonder where he takes it from,” Harry mused, breaking into a full grin when Louis poked him in the stomach on reflex.

“You should come and meet him some day,” he said, unthinkingly. Harry’s smile slipped off his face, and Louis clicked his phone shut, wincing. “Yeah, right, probably not the best idea.”

“I’d love to,” Harry said, moving back to his seat. “You know I would.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. That was stupid.”

“It shouldn’t have to be stupid,” Harry said darkly, eyes fixed on his plate, pushing a carrot around with his fork.

“Don’t play with your food,” Louis quipped, and that got a tiny smile from Harry, at least. “Now tell me, how are things in the Twist household? I need to know every instance of Robin taking the piss out of you since you got that big movie role.”

Harry laughed, his features instantly reshaping into the look of fond exasperation he had whenever he talked about his family. It was a look Louis had grown to love in recent years, once Harry had become more guarded with himself, because Louis knew it was something Harry could not control. When he talked about his family, Harry sounded like any of Louis’s non-famous friends talking about their life at home. It made it easy to pretend like nothing had ever happened to them. That they were just friends catching up.

Harry launched into a story of Robin mercilessly mocking him during the Christmas holidays, and Louis propped his chin up on his knuckles, drinking him in.

By the time Louis bid his farewell, both of them standing in Harry’s entryway, he felt unbalanced, like standing in two different timelines at once. Spending an evening alone with Harry, making him squawk out with laughter, listening to his rambling stories, was something Louis had long ago given up on. He’d never expected it to happen again, putting those memories away like you’d put old photographs in a box, taking them out once a year for a trip down memory lane, wondering if things might have been different but never doing anything to fix it.

Now Louis was starting to believe things could be fixed, and it was more terrifying than he would have expected it to be.

“Thanks for dropping by,” Harry said, shifting from one foot to the other, looking ganglier than anyone as fit as Harry had any right to be.

“Thanks for having me,” Louis said, wincing at how stiff he sounded, but Harry chuckled, and Louis allowed himself a smile.

“We should do this again. Like… from time to time…”

We should, shouldn’t we? Louis thought, feeling irrational nostalgia for a moment that had not yet ended. “Yeah,” he said, unable to make himself commit to more. The red wine Harry had been drinking all evening had left a dark smudge on his upper lip. Louis’s fingertips were tingling with the urge to reach up and rub it off.

Staring at Harry’s mouth like that was probably not the cleverest thing to do, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop, until Harry bit his lip, then surged forward, strong arms pulling Louis into a hug as unexpected as it was welcome.

They had to realign themselves a bit, not used to fitting together anymore, but when Harry pushed his face against Louis’s neck, Louis reached up without thinking, brushing his fingertips against Harry’s short hair before burying his fingers into it, closing his fist around the strands and trying not to take too obvious a breath as Harry’s embrace tightened reflexively. Louis loosened his grip on Harry’s hair, scratched his fingernails down to the nape of his neck, before splaying his fingers again, pinky finger bumping against the shell of Harry’s ear.

Touching skin was like hitting a switch, and Louis did it again, deliberately this time, stroking Harry’s ear with a fingertip before gently tugging on his earlobe with thumb and forefinger, brushing Harry’s jaw with his knuckles. He felt a puff of wet breath against his neck, then Harry straightened up, eyes wide and grave.

“Why did you send me the magazine?” Louis blurted out, unaware he’d even wanted to ask the question, feeling the frantic flutter of his heart all the way down to his fingertips.

Harry leaned down and kissed him.

Louis didn’t think. He kissed back, pressing his lips against Harry’s hard enough to hurt, desperate for more but not daring to take it, afraid that the slightest movement of his lips would bring them back to their senses and break the moment. Harry must have felt that way, too, because they stayed like that for a long time, lips unmoving, standing still in Harry’s hallway with Louis’s hand in Harry’s hair and Harry’s arms wrapped around Louis’s back.

Louis’s mind was reeling. From the moment he’d opened Harry’s package and seen the magazine, he hadn’t even let himself think about the possibility of this happening. Kissing Harry was something Louis should have done years ago. It didn’t belong in the present. They’d had a break-up and a falling out without ever being together, and wanting to get together now felt like doing things out of order. Surely it could never work.

Louis felt sick from how much he wanted it to work.

Harry caved first, lips moving against Louis’s at last, gently closing around Louis’s bottom lip, then pressing against the corner of his mouth, before Harry leaned away ever so slightly, just enough to break the kiss for good. Louis chased his mouth, hand pressing down against the back of Harry’s head, desperate for another kiss that he knew he should probably not take but that Harry gave to him without hesitation. The hitch in Harry’s breathing when Louis grazed Harry’s bottom lip with his teeth shot straight down to Louis’s groin and made him step away at last, face burning hot.

“Well,” he said, too loud, laughing through the searing embarrassment, “Thanks for, um, everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, voice slightly hoarse. “Any time.”

Louis glanced up. Harry’s lips were a deeper pink than they’d been a minute ago, his eyes a darker shade of green. Louis looked away, turning towards the door with one awkward pat to Harry’s arm. “I’ll see you around then.”

“See you.”

Louis wasn’t sure how his legs carried him back to his car, but he managed to get there without making a spectacle of himself. Once safely hidden by his tinted windows he allowed himself to slump back against his seat, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, chasing the taste of Harry’s lips with his tongue.

It’s not like Harry had even tried to be subtle about it, but Louis had still walked into that trap without looking, and he doubted he’d have the self-preservation instincts to get out of it.

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the-tales-of-horror · 8 years ago

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Help! I think something is wrong with my family!

Original Link By sexywrexy91

I'm a simple man. I've never really been big on the details. I can't tell you how many times my wife has bought a new pair of earrings and asked if I noticed anything different. Or when my daughter, Lisa, gets a new Disney shirt and wants to know if she looks cute. I always tell her yes, but really they're all Frozen to me. Now, I wouldn't say I'm oblivious. No, I'm pretty observant . I don't care for the minor details, but I know when something strange is going on. For instance, these past 4 days have been a little off and I'm really concerned. It's a bit hard to describe, so let me walk you through my week.

Alright, so Monday was just the same as ever. I woke up, showered, and went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Sonia had made the usual: 2 eggs sunny side up, 2 strips of bacon, and oatmeal for the fiber. After eating, I went to the living room to say goodbye to my little girl.

“Daddy, do I look pretty?” Lisa asked, proudly showing me her shirt.

“Of course you do! Who’s this princess?”

“It’s Elsa.”

“Cool. Give Daddy a kiss goodbye.”

I gave my daughter a big hug and kiss on the cheek, then kissed my wife goodbye and headed to work. Work was uneventful as usual. Steve asked if I noticed anything different about him.

“Uh, not really.”

“Oh, come on, Shawn. I lost 20 pounds!”

I see him 5 days a week so I guess I couldn't tell. I clocked out and made my way home alone. Of course I hit traffic. There was a man standing on the left side of the road, as always, seemingly looking straight at me. He was a tall man, probably 6'8, maybe bigger. He wore a dingy brown blazer over a white button down shirt. He wore brown slacks and black shoes. He had really long arms, reaching well below his knees. His eyes appeared as hollow, black holes, kind of like a skeleton. I mean he was pretty far away, so I'm sure he looked normal up close. That would just be weird otherwise. Anyway, I thought this guy was a little weird. He was always standing there, but I never saw him begging for money or anything. No one really seemed to even notice him. Maybe he gets picked up there.

I pulled into my driveway, then went inside. Sonia met me at the door. I gave her a big kiss. She smiled and I gazed deep into her hazel eyes, as pretty as the day I met her.

“Notice anything different about me?” she asked.

“New perfume?” I guessed.

“No, Shawn, I cut my hair.”

I guess she did. I always loved that curly brown hair of hers. Lisa left her doll on the floor again. It was one of those life-sized Barbies. It had pale white skin in contrast to her own mocha colored complexion. I do wish they had it in her color, but she dresses the doll up in whatever shirt she wore the day before, as if it were her twin. Dinner soon came. Lisa was already chowing down, her mouth covered in the thick red sauce. Sonia had tried out another new recipe. It was meatloaf this time.

“What do you, honey?” she asked, looking at me across the table.

“It’s good. The best you’ve ever made.”

Tuesday, I woke up, showered and went to the kitchen for breakfast. I had my usual 2 eggs scrambled, 2 sausage links, and a bowl of oatmeal.

“Daddy, do I look pretty?” Lisa asked.

“Of Course you do! Who’s this princess?”

“Belle!”

“Cool. Give Daddy a kiss goodbye.”

I kissed my daughter goodbye. I made it to work and Steve asked if I noticed anything different.

“Uh did you lose 20 pounds?” I asked.

“No, man. I got this crazy new tie. You know I normally wear black ones.”

“Yeah, man, I know. I was just messing with you. Nice tie!”

The tie was navy, so I really didn’t notice but I didn’t wanna hurt his feelings. I made my way home on my own after work and hit traffic once again. And, once again, there was that man standing on the right side of the road as always. I could really swear he was staring right at me. I was only inching by at about 7mph, but his head kept turning slowly as I passed. Maybe he was admiring the expensive wax job on my car?

Once I reached home, my wife greeted me with a kiss. My daughter left her Barbie on the floor yet again- this time wearing an Elsa shirt. Dinner was another new recipe: lasagna. Lisa seemed to enjoy it. There was spaghetti sauce everywhere.

“What do you think, honey?” Sonia asked.

“It’s good. The best you’ve ever made.”

Wednesday, was more of the same. Woke up, showered, breakfast. Egg and cheese on whole grain toast, same as everyday. Kissed my daughter- the shirt du jour was Cinderella- then off to work. There was Lauren once again. I had a feeling she’d ask me if I noticed anything new like weight loss or a tie. She did.

“Uh, it’s not a new tie, is it?” I jested.

“Tie? Anyway, look over there. Seems like we got a new guy. Steve apparently just up and quit.”

Who the hell was Steve? I looked over where Lauren pointed and there was my coworker, wearing the same old brown blazer and slacks with a white shirt. He must have been up all night, because all I could see from my desk was black around his eyes. He really looked like death. But, surely he wasn’t new- I felt like I’d seen him several times before.

After work, I made my way home with my good buddy. I wanted to tell him to maybe think about wearing something other than a blazer, slacks, white shirt, and black tie. And also be more careful when he eats. Having dried ketchup stains on your shirt is pretty unprofessional. He's a great guy, but he's a little strange. He's tall, you see, but he just sits in the car, head cocked to a full 90 degree angle, his dark, hollow eyes staring at me the whole time. I can't say I wasn't uncomfortable.

I made my way home and was greeted by a kiss from Sonia. I tripped over that damned doll again- this time dressed in Belle. Dinner was fettucine alfredo. Lisa was loving it. So was the table.

“What do you think, honey?” Sonia asked.

“It’s good. The best you’ve ever made.”

Thursday was admittedly a little strange. I showered and all, and came down for breakfast, but I guess Sonia overslept. No biggie, so I just made a grilled cheese for myself to hold me over until lunch. My daughter was fast asleep on the couch. I guess she wasn’t going to school today, but I leave that stuff to Sonia.

“Isn’t she pretty?”

I heard Sonia’s voice, but I didn’t bother turning around to see. I pointed to the shirt.

“Who’s this princess?” I asked.

“Sleeping Beauty.”

“Cool. I’ll see you later, babe.”

I caught up with Lauren at work. I asked her where the new guy was, since he wasn’t at his desk.

“New guy?” she asked as she squinted, as though she had no idea what I was talking about.

“Nevermind.”

Maybe she was just playing with me the day before. I knew I’d seen that guy before. Once work was over, I made my way home. I didn’t even catch traffic and got home in record time. Although I was early, I was still greeted the same as always by my buddy in the brown blazer and slacks. I guess he didn’t have time for laundry, because that stain was still there. Seemed a bit bigger, too, but maybe I remembered wrong.

There was that damned Barbie on the floor again. I’m glad we were able to find it in a mocha color to match Lisa’s skin. She dressed it up in a Sleeping Beauty shirt. I figured I should set an example and actually pick the doll up this time. It was pretty lifelike. It was easily 40 pounds and had a really fleshy texture. I could feel the plastic skeleton beneath the skin. If it weren't so cold, I could've believed it was really Lisa's twin. It looked like Lisa had carved out the eye sockets. I don't know why she'd mutilate it like that, but she paid a lot of attention to detail. There was even some red matter dripping from the sockets. I must’ve tripped over that doll too many times because it went limp in my hand. Maybe I should get her a new one to apologize for breaking this one.

Dinner was something new: borscht, I think. It was a really thick red sauce with chunks of dough. Really strange, round, white dough, with a hazel spot on one side. It was pretty good,although chewy, so I was disappointed there were only two. There was some brown hair in the soup. Sonia never wore a hairnet but this had to have been a full lock of hair.

“It’s good. The best you’ve ever made.”

It was then I realized that she didn’t ask this time. In fact, Sonia hadn’t said much of anything during dinner. It was strange. Why was Lisa late to dinner? Where was Sonia? There was that man sitting there across the table, smiling with rotten, blackened teeth, his cold black gaze cutting right through me. For some reason, I lost my appetite. Something felt different. Something felt wrong.

#Help! I think something is wrong with my family!#Horror Story #Scary Story #Creepy Story #Reddit NoSleep #TTOH

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givenchyic · 5 years ago

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Repeat after me, “You Can Never Be Overdressed Or Overeducated”, thank you Oscar Wilde. This quote is certainly true no matter the occasion, yet it does resonate in the time of quarantine and might bring you a dosage of comfort. This time is, to put it bluntly, a ‘kick you in the crotch spit on your neck fantastic moment’. Never thought I would combine a quote from Rachel Green with Oscar Wilde but here we are!

If like me, you love to vicariously live your life for a few days through prettily designed Pinterest quotes from dead famous people, then this one is perfect. Whether it’s dressing up in your finest and putting makeup on for dinner, or subscribing to a myriad of online courses and panic-ordering books on Amazon (because truly how long will this last for?) this quote can motivate you to boost both your mood and your brain.

Occasion wear is the new stay-in wear, how to be the best dressed in your living room

Truthfully, I am a little bit bored with fast fashion’s disingenuous attempt to shove loungewear down our throats. For instance, these are a few email subject lines and opening sentences I have received in the past few weeks:

“New Season Loungewear BACK IN STOCK”

“Cozy things From £5” – Facetime your girls, eat tacos in bed and play your records from start to finish.

“Welcome to the loungewear appreciation club”

“Latest in loungewear”

“Next level loungewear”

Okay, we are stuck at home, stop infiltrating my social media cookies.

But, I also get it, you also want to look chic and you want to be comfortable whilst.. well… lounging. With this in mind, I have compiled a few different moods and faux scenarios for you with clothes to match. Truthfully, other than work, I have nothing better to do, so my imagination has run wild!

Perhaps the most annoying thing that I find with this fast fashion loungewear is the use of unsustainable fabrics and repetitive styles quickly regurgitated to satisfy our insatiable demand. Now, I’m not saying that these clothes picks below contain sustainable fabrics, yet I think that they are way more wearable than said loungewear. These pieces are different as you can easily wear them after lockdown ends. Polyester, Acrylic and Nylon knitwear will inevitably shrink in the wash or will be peppered with splashes of hot tomato pasta sauce after precariously trying to eat your dinner on the sofa. Then, it will just end up in the bin and clog up landfill sites in the UK and overseas for hundreds and thousands of years.

The point is, as sometimes sustainable isn’t necessarily the most affordable, buy pieces that you know you will wear again and again, that like us have a life after lockdown (because that day will come!)

Choose silhouettes that emphasise comfort but also that are more sophisticated. From oversized shirts to palazzo pants and silky dressing gowns, I have selected smart stay in wear that will elevate your wardrobe.

So, although this lockdown may last for a while, don’t let your impact on this earth last longer!

For The Ordinary AHA 30% Skin Peel and Bowl of Pasta Wear

There is nothing quite as calming as a hot bath on a Sunday evening followed by a bowl of pasta the size of your head and a skincare routine. If you are becoming a derma baby, and you want to indulge in that vision of preening yourself in front of an immaculate glamorous vintage vanity set then this lockdown look is perfect: A chic soft and silky dressing gown.

I am biased, but One Hundred Stars do the best gowns! From delicate chinoiserie to botanical floral and vintage maps of your favourite cities, these delightful gowns are made out of the softest fabric, a combination of Modal and Viscose. I often wear my dressing gown just around the house anyway, and last summer I wore it with black trousers and a black rollneck to work or thrown over a bikini!

Linen gowns are also a great choice for the warmer weather, and this H&M Conscious collection piece promises sustainable sleepwear that soothes both you and the earth.

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Night On The Sofa and Glass of Pale Rosé In Hand Wear:

Oversized linen and cotton shirts are a must for sophisticated soporific wear.I dream about pairing these cool, calm and collected shirts with darted wide-leg trousers, palazzo pants and, when the sun comes out, satin slip bias mini skirts. The sharp tailored pleats of the trousers, and the slick derriere skimming of the bias cut will provide the perfect contrast to the slouchy tucked or untucked shirt.

For the finishing final touches, accessorise with bright yellow Gold chains, baroque pearls and satisfying slick of red lipstick.

When choosing colour palettes for an overall ensemble, go for graduated tones of ecru, creams, beiges, greyages and latte. These will effortlessly melt and ooze together.

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For Pacing Around Your Apartment Whilst On the Phone to Your Boss Wear:

I never have been one for sliders, but since spending all my time at home, I have come to appreciate the need for “house shoes”. As heady sun-drenched living rooms become the norm, slippers constitute sweaty and clammy toes – not the nicest. But if, like me, you have an affliction with your toesies being out all the time, comfortable sandals like these fluffy ugg sandals will keep you perusing around your home with ease. Available in a variety of cutesy pastel colours, these sandals are worth every penny.

For the Easy Mornings and Luxurious Nights

For me, a slip dress is ubiquitous with both comfort and luxury, two concepts that often go hand in hand or can be worlds apart.

The greatness of a slip dress is in the name itself, the way they just slip over your head and shoulders with ease. Plus, the way they are cut can accentuate your body and make you instantly feel good in yourself – what’s not to love? The lighter materials too are currently perfect for lockdown, keeping you cool in the warmer climates.

Although I am partial to cowl neck, I feel they have been slightly overdone. So, I think a deep v neck slip dress is equally as flattering and infinitely wearable.

The sweet cornflower blue of this Urban outfitters slip dress gives you a renewed sense of optimism and tranquility, and the lime hue is also perfect for dancing the night away with its zeal and fresh colour. What’s more, the chocolate brown option can easily transcend into autumn and winter

(When editing this piece I also found this slip dress in a pretty oyster shade too – a gift that just keeps on giving.)

This selection below from Pretty Lavish are also all great choices. The satin Piper maxi dresses are exceptionally elegant, yet they dance on the fine line of formal and smart casual. The tie-dye print of the apricot number invites flat sandals, and the cool mint hue of the other dress means you can easily wear her, at the discretion of your own confidence, in the day.

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Online courses for pointless knowledge, career-boosting strategies or to learn for the sake of learning

So, I have been purposefully stringent in choosing clothes for this blog post, and believe me, it was hard. The reason why is because the second half is dedicated to learning – yes, learning.

I miss learning, I really do. I have always had a curious mind, divulging daily in documentaries, reading books or following history accounts on twitter just because I like a random fact popping up on my timeline. I enjoyed the large majority of my lectures, and for the most part, reading for essays at university (I found the writing really hard and abhorred it, but you can find out more about that in this blog post!).

Quarantine has made me think, okay how can I direct my energy into learning something new – whether its just pointless facts or it can strengthen my career. Because truthfully in future interviews, I might be asked what I like to do in my spare time, and drinking glasses of wine with friends and boyfriend might not cut the mustard.

I have recently started doing this Museum of Modern Art: Fashion as Design course which is super duper interesting. I’m only on week 3, but the course explores a 2017 exhibition of theirs called ‘Is Fashion Modern’ looking at staple garments like the plain white t-shirt or Nike Air force 1’s and looking at how these garments have made their cultural stamp and their history.

So, I have searched on Future Learn to find other free online courses that I am interested in and have shared them below in case they pique anyone’s interest. The online art platform Artsy has also written: “10 Art History Classes You Can Take Online For Free” .

Start Writing Fiction

A History of Royal Fashion

Understanding Fashion: From Business to Culture

Fashion and Sustainability: Understanding Luxury Fashion in a Changing World

Propaganda and Ideology in Everyday Life

Many Faces: Understanding the Complexities of Chinese Culture

Introduction to Japanese Sub Cultures

Designing a Feminist Chatbot

Thank you for reading,

Molly x

“You Can Never Be Overdressed or Overeducated” The Quarantine Mantra Repeat after me, “You Can Never Be Overdressed Or Overeducated”, thank you Oscar Wilde. This quote is certainly true no matter the occasion, yet it does resonate in the time of quarantine and might bring you a dosage of comfort.

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kristie-rp · 6 years ago

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[2018] Garrett: Turning

It is a truth universally acknowledged that anyone acting particularly weird in the hospital must be in want of Doctor Vincent Constantine.

Okay, no, that’s not true, exactly. It’s more a truth acknowledged only within the hospital itself, and weirdness is relative, and they don’t always know they need Constantine’s expertise. That’s just how it gets explained to Garrett when he starts his placement during med school, by a curly haired woman speaking behind her hand in a stage whisper. Doctor Constantine himself snorts and shoots her an unimpressed look, and does a double take when he sees Garrett. There’s something vaguely familiar in it, and the intern smiles politely. “Hi, Doctor Constantine.”

“Call me Vincent,” comes the reply. “She’s right, in a manner of speaking. If something seems particularly... peculiar, then I am the resident expert. Feel free to come to me.”

Garrett doesn’t think much about it, afterwards. The thing is, he doesn’t work in Vincent’s department, at least not at first. The older man operates largely out of the basement, where a morgue would be in any other hospital: it has been turned into a ward, and the windows of half the rooms are blacked out with heavy tarps. It’s eerie. When Garrett brings his toddler daughter April to work some days, when she is too young to be home alone and not able to be at daycare, she tends to spend time with the old man. He doesn’t get it, but he allows it.

He’s been a fully qualified medical practitioner employed by the hospital for eight months before he thinks about the description of Vincent’s specialisation. A couple have brought in their terrified daughter, who is incredibly pretty for a human child and also very quick-witted and persuasive. She has talked the nurse out of at least three lollipops before Garrett arrives in the room to introduce himself and shoo the nurse away.

“Do you really need so many,” her mother is asking a little helplessly, taking the third one from her daughter. The little girl shrugs, and asks her dad to get her some water, please, from the vending machine. Because her mother is the one with money, she goes, too. The little girl is alone with Garrett.

“They think I’m sick,” she informs him flatly, pouting slightly. “I don’t think they’re wrong. I mean. I know I’m not like the other girls. And there are these.” She tugs at her beanie and it lifts away to reveal small horns on her forehead. She is very careful not to rip the wool. “My mom’s worried.”

“Cutaneous horns aren’t unheard of,” Garrett tries. He doubts it’s that simple; the very sentence sits wrong on his tongue. Plus, every instance of cutaneous horns he’s heard of presented in the elderly.

The little girl, apparently, is aware of this. “I know how to Google,” she says dismissively, “and I know only old people have that happen. So why is this happening to me now?”

Garrett hesitates. He can order tests – of course he can. But something gives him pause. The mother and father return, and Garrett makes up his mind: he leans out of the door to catch a nurse as she passes by. “Hi, sorry – can you run down to the basement and find Doctor Constantine, please? I need a consult.”

The nurse looks at him curiously, but returns in fifteen minutes with Vincent himself. He looks between the couple. “Are you her father?”

The man shakes his head. “We adopted her a few years ago,” he explains. The little girl doesn’t seem bothered by this, and her mother has rested a hand on her little girls shoulder. “We have the record of her biological parents medical information –”

The mother starts to search in her bag for the papers. Vincent stops her with a wave of her hand. “No matter, they won’t be accurate.”

The parents make outraged sounds, and the little girl blinks at him. “You know what’s wrong with me?” she asks. Her voice is much smaller than it was earlier, alone with Garrett. He can’t blame her, really; Vincent has that effect on people.

“Have any of you heard of a Cambion?” is what Vincent asks, completely without preamble. Garrett starts, because he’s heard of those, in fascinated Wikipedia spirals that almost always end with him looking up different takes on mythological beings – and this doctor, whom he respects, is talking as though the creature is real. “It is the result of a sexual union between an Incubus and a human woman. I’d bet the mother listed her boyfriends information before giving her up, knowing exactly what she was getting into.” He pauses, addressing the girl directly. “The horns may be surgically removed once they are fully grown, but that won’t happen until you’ve completed puberty. You likely had almost no pulse until you were seven, and you’ve likely noticed you barely need to breathe. You’re clever and beautiful, more than human girls, and you’re persuasive. Many would call you manipulative. Does this sound right?” The little girl is staring at him, somewhere between dumbfounded and fascinated. Garrett can see in her face that this explains everything. “You have the potential to be evil, but with good parents – nurture over nature, all that – it can be subverted or at least limited. Any questions?”

If there are, Garrett doesn’t hear them, watching the girls face instead. He can’t see Vincent’s, but that girl is looking at him like he told her the meaning of life, and has no longer left her confused and wanting, unsure what she is.

Garrett doesn’t know if he entirely believes the story, but he’s half-way there. It helps that the little girl pauses to give him a hug and to thank him on the way out, beanie back in place.

Garrett’s co-workers think that his fascination with Vincent’s so-called department – which exists primarily due to the Constantine’s donating more money to the hospital than the accounting department is willing to disclose – is ridiculous and confusing. They think Vincent is insane, or delusional, or at least eccentric, for all they respect him as their fellow doctor. But every single one of them is willing to call the older man for a consult when the situation calls for it, which is really all Garrett can hope for, so he mostly ignores the opportunities to mock them.

(Mostly, because sometimes he cannot bite his tongue fast enough to ensure he is less sarcastic in the workplace than he is at home, with April, who by now is a teenager who really ought to have a more sincere parental figure to turn to.)

Anyway: it is not uncommon for Garrett to visit Vincent’s basement, either to ask pointed questions or chat with patients kept so separate from the others. He does this more predictably on the nights when April is not supposed to be coming home, and tonight she is staying at a friends place while they work on a project for class. He does not have to be home in time for dinner, so he meanders down to where he can visit at his own pace.

There is a woman with albinism in one room. She greets him warmly, as she had the last time he’d been here, by putting on a terrible Transylvanian accent and calling herself a vampire. Garrett quirks a brow at her, thinking something along the lines of you wouldn’t be quite that pale if you dined on blood, Zoe. She laughs aloud. “Alright, fair enough, I’ll let you have that one. Stop by on your way out, Doc,” she insists, and he can almost feel the idea settling in his mind, ensuring he will do as asked later.

“Is your tail ever going to heal?” Garrett asks the man in the next room, curious.

The merman with his blue-tinted skin snorts, his teeth growing in jagged rows; according to what he’s told them, he is a hybrid of some sharks that wouldn’t ever frequent the bay around Port Lyndon. “I’m not the doctor,” he says, splashing impatiently. He is caught halfway between human and mer form, and the pain shows in how pale around the gills he is. “Ask Vince.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get right on that. Straight after my stopover at H.L. to let them know what I am,” Garrett retorts, earning a laugh from the mer as he splashes contentedly.

He stops at the door of the selkie to smile and let her know that he’s passing through, because he knows she’s mostly here because of the debilitating anxiety that came from losing her pelt – only she hasn’t felt compelled to actually go to anyone, so it isn’t stolen, just legitimately lost. There’d be more chance of finding it if it was stolen, from what Garrett understands – it is hard to get her to talk, because Vincent is the expert, and he’s not exactly personable.

The next room was home to a slightly burned dryad the last time he was here, but his bark was basically finished moulting, which means he should be gone, and the room should be empty. Garrett opens the door to check, eyes widening when he instead gets an eyeful of a wolf-like being – it’s a fully transformed werewolf, he knows that – and yet his immediate panicked reaction is to step closer and slam the door closed.

Yeah, his self-preservation instincts have always been terrible, he is aware. He does things like drink hot sauce on a dare (college) and break into his parents liquor cabinet (high school) and grab the arms of angry looking people on crutches to prevent them from walking into traffic (summer between high school and college, and actually he’s proud of that one). He has a feeling he’d step in front of a gunman to save someone, even a stranger.

That might explain locking himself in with an angry looking werewolf. One that’s currently edging closer.

“Crap,” he croaks, panic making his voice crack, and presses himself against the door.

He blacks out.

It’s probably for the best.

“I have to hand it to you, Garrett,” a familiar voice is saying when he comes to, blinking at a white tile ceiling, “if you were going to be infected by a supernatural condition, this is probably the best possible place you could’ve done it.”

“That’s nice,” Garrett says. He thinks he sounds about as sarcastic as usual, but he might be a little dazed. It’s something to do with the fact that he can make out the little specks across the surface of the tiles, which is weird, because he should be wearing glasses, and he can’t feel them on his face. “I think my veins are on fire.”

“That’d be the wolfsbane,” the voice answers, apparently unbothered. It’s Vincent. Garrett is not surprised.

Garrett closes his eyes. “You’re suppressing a transformation, aren’t you. Isn’t that a bad idea?”

“Which one of us is the expert?”

Garrett scoffs. “Which one of us is a werewolf?”

There’s a long silence that makes Garrett want to open his eyes, but it’s bad enough that he can hear a heartbeat that he’s pretty sure isn’t close enough to be Vincent. Which means his co-worker doesn’t have a heartbeat. Which – he had to pass a medical to get this job; how did Vincent get the job with no heartbeat, without causing some sort of crisis? He keeps his eyes firmly shut, thanks ever so much. “Touché,” Vincent says at last, and Garrett can hear the amusement in his voice.

“How long was I out?”

“A couple of hours. Your phone rang; it was your daughter. She’ll be here soon.”

“Sure, that’s a brilliant idea,” he mutters, sarcasm heavy in his voice. Garrett’s eyes fly open and he sits up a little quicker than he would like, blinking against the abrupt change of scenery and the headrush. “By which I mean, you just said I’m a newly turned werewolf, Vincent, what the fuck?”

“At least you already know werewolves exist,” he says.

It’s not helpful. Garrett gives him the glare he thinks he deserves, and then lays back down, pressing his palms into his closed eyes. Maybe if he thinks hard enough, this will go away. “I can’t be a werewolf,” he says, as if it will change anything. “I have a teenage daughter. I’m a medical doctor. I work night shift half the time, I can’t take every full moon off!”

“That’s what the wolfsbane is for.”

“Oh, right. How could I forget? My veins feel like they’re actually on fire and this is the only way to not turn into a wolf that will bite anyone around.”

“You’re a very negative person, aren’t you?”

Garrett grimaces. He’s just realized what the heartbeat he can hear actually is, and attempts to peer at the other occupant of the room, the one he missed. “Sorry, Dave. I didn’t mean any offence. Much.”

Dave, the werewolf responsible for this entire thing, snorts, but it sounds half-hearted and exhausted. He is trembling. “I should be the one apologizing. I ruined your life, man. I owe you.”

“Should I be worried about the shaking?”

“Doc didn’t give me any ‘bane until I’d already transformed, is all. Remember to take it like you’re s’posed to and it works out better.”

“Great.” Garrett takes medication for anxiety on the daily. He now has to add injections of liquidated wolfsbane to his schedule at least once a month, twice in a blue moon, and he really doesn’t want to wish harm on Dave – so he doesn’t. He closes his eyes again, takes a deep, supposedly steadying breath. “This is just what I needed.”

“Dad?”

Garrett opens his eyes and looks up. April is standing over him with a look of concern, the door open behind where his head has been resting this entire time. “Hey, sweetie,” he says, trying for a sincere smile. He doesn’t know how close he gets as she dumps her bag and kneels down beside him. “I hear your sleepover wasn’t that great.”

“Muriel is being mean, so I called to come home. Vincent said you were – hurt?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just – um.” Garrett pauses. He cannot lie to his daughter, she needs to know what is going on. It isn’t fair to keep her in the dark.

He has to tell her about supernaturals, if she hasn’t guessed already.

Garrett groans aloud, pressing his palms back into his eye sockets. “Remind me to kill you later,” he mutters. “It’s the least you deserve.”

Vincent snorts, and Dave’s noise is more like a whimper. There’s something decidedly lupine in it, and that’s exactly the sort of thing Garrett needs to hear right now.

“So,” he starts, pulling his eyes away, “you know how there are humans in the world, and they have different races? African, Asian, Caucasian, Mongoloid.”

“Yes...?”

“Well, those differences are just aesthetic. The differences that actually matter a little bit are the ones that make human beings into something – supernatural.”

There’s quiet for a long moment. “Are you trying to make a joke about that TV show?” April asks, wary.

Garrett sighs. He wishes he was. “I wish I was,” he says, “but what I’m actually saying is that vampires and werewolves and dryads and all that – it’s real. That’s what’s special about Vincent’s patients. That’s why they are in the basements, that’s why pretty much everyone avoids him and thinks he’s insane.”

“Hey,” Vincent says. It’s mild enough that Garrett doesn’t believe he actually cares.

“Also, that’s Dave. Say hi to Dave.” He waits for April to wave awkwardly at the patient. “He’s a werewolf. And he bit me.”

#kristie's writing #kristie writes #kwrites #kwriting #ft. garrett #ft. dave #ft. vincent #ft. april

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smartwebhostingblog · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://noveltieshere.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Any investor in Netflix (NASDAQ:NFLX) knows the standard touch-points that are frequently hit on by analysts – lack of ratings info, a perceived over-spending on shows and the company’s long-standing quest to conquer the movie industry chief among them. When any news tied to any of those areas comes out, it is like catnip to the media.

Granted that’s the point.

Netflix is one of the rare companies that can subscribe to the “any coverage is good coverage” mantra as they just enjoy being in the conversation. As analysts have seen, it thrives off of speculation and conjecture because everyone knows it won’t comment so it just creates more and more buzz around the content.

Yet in the case of Bird Box, something new happened. The company DID respond and put out actual data on viewing, but more importantly, it then ELABORATED on that data giving investors a rare glimpse behind the curtain – which ultimately just created more questions. It is infuriating.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

Netflix has again managed to reveal “just” enough to spark a new conversation but not enough to reveal anything to give their rivals any type of edge. Or did they? That’s the question investors and analysts are scrambling to make sense of and overall it’s a fascinating situation.

First, as always, some background.

Netflix’s goal to be as dominant in film as it is in television is well-documented. The problem is largely two-fold. Part of it is the film industry is well aware of how the TV industry basically sold itself out of power and the other half is the company under-estimated the power of a shared experience like going to the movies.

However, over the last few years, Netflix has doubled down on their efforts by recruiting top tier talent like The Coen Brothers, Martin Scorsese, Alfonso Cuaron, Will Smith, Adam Sandler and most recently Sandra Bullock.

Bullock is one of the most beloved actresses of the modern era. Not only is she talented, but she’s gone through the fire and came out unscathed. She’s as versatile as she is intelligent. The feeling with former Universal executive turned Netflix film czar Scott Stuber was that audiences would flock to her films whatever the medium.

And he was right.

According to Netflix, her latest project Bird Box (which he brought over with him) was viewed by 45,037,125 subscribers – a new record for a Netflix movie over its first seven days. The problem is that not only is that number oddly specific, it is mind-boggling. If taken on the surface, that would mean roughly 1/3 of all Netflix subscribers watched the film.

Now some people have taken this to the extreme and tried to put a dollar value to it, which is even more absurd and investors should pay it no mind. The logic is that if you take that total and multiply it by the price of a movie ticket (roughly $9.16), then Bird Box would have made around $413 million at the box office.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

Again, that is ludicrous and even Netflix would never be so bold to infer that (though it has come close in past instances). Not only is it nowhere near an apples-to-apples comparison, but it also furthers the narrative and Netflix knows that so it has no reason to even attempt to set the record straight.

What was so unique this time, though, was many media outlets asked for more information and instead of the usual answer of some clever way of saying “no comment,” Netflix actually commented. The company specified the number came from the number of accounts that surpassed 70% of the runtime and clarified it counted every account once (so the number didn’t include any repeat viewings).

Here’s the rub – that’s where the info stopped and from there it’s down the same rabbit hole as before. Netflix once again successfully chummed the waters and then let the feeding frenzy ensue. By answering questions, it actually opened the door to more questions which is a practice investors in the industry in this area are very familiar with by this point.

Personally, my biggest question is why 70%? Wouldn’t you try to find a number like 75% which represents 3/4 of the film or even 50/51% to show that people watched at least half the movie? 70% just seems like an odd choice and it makes me wonder how precipitous the drop-off was at 75% that they wouldn’t use it? Or was it the opposite and too high of a number to be believable? Not that 45 million is believable either, but that’s expected when talking about Netflix which makes claims that they have no intention of backing up.

And that’s also the point.

We’ve reached a new world where companies don’t have to be held to the same standards as others and it creates a Wild West of sorts. Investors can enjoy the windfall now, but they also need to just be warned this is a dangerous game Netflix is playing in the long-run. They opened Pandora’s Box and right now it is benefiting them, but it is only a matter of time until it backfires.

The problem is one of these days Netflix is going to make a claim that it can’t walk back and it may have already done that here. It basically defined what the company counts as a “view”, and while it’s not anywhere near the full secret sauce, it’s an ingredient that won’t go unnoticed. In fact, the company has already taken steps to put safeguards in place as they have told media this info applies only to Bird Box and it “should not be taken as a metric for all Netflix content.”

How does that work?

No seriously, how does that work? Does that mean it counts views at 70% of run-time for movies, but not TV series? Or does that mean it counts views at whatever percent helps its case more? Again, because there’s no checks and balance, they don’t have to answer that question. Or any follow-ups.

Yet, what is unfortunately buried in this whole thing is that if you take the numbers out of this for a second, you’ll see a movie starring a talented actress and directed by a gifted female director (Emmy-winner Susanne Bier) was able to garner this type of positive response from the public. We should just take a second to recognize that as in this day and age it is sadly a rarity. These women deserve an immense amount of credit for the work they shepherded.

To be fair, it is also a statement to the industry by Netflix that it is willing to be a change-maker in that regard – but by not releasing verifiable numbers, it doesn’t do people like Bier a lot of good when making future deals. That’s also part of the reason why Crazy Rich Asians’ writer Kevin Kwan picked a traditional studio over Netflix when selling the film rights. He wanted to have something concrete he could show the industry as proof that American audiences will see a movie headlined entirely by Asian actors – but that’s a story for another day.

For now, yes it looks like it’s Netflix’s world now and we are just living in it, but investors shouldn’t drink the Kool-Aid without realizing there’s likely more to these stories that we don’t know and more we should know that can help better the industry.

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

“I’m fairly sure Bird Box is a phenomenon of some sort, but without verifiable data or comparative data for context, a Netflix-affiliated Twitter feed coming down from on-high with suspiciously specific (and yet entirely vague) data is the epitome of nonsense.”

And by the way, phenomenon is a good way to describe it as this week Netflix again took to Twitter, but this time to ask its viewers NOT to partake in what has been dubbed the Bird Box challenge. Because the Internet is the Internet, social media users decided to see which everyday tasks they could accomplish while blindfolded (as the characters are for most of the film).

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

Disclosure: I/we have no positions in any stocks mentioned, and no plans to initiate any positions within the next 72 hours. I wrote this article myself, and it expresses my own opinions. I am not receiving compensation for it (other than from Seeking Alpha). I have no business relationship with any company whose stock is mentioned in this article.

0 notes

awesomecolorfulcollectorwombat · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://noveltieshere.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Granted that’s the point.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

First, as always, some background.

And he was right.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

And that’s also the point.

How does that work?

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

0 notes

lazilysillyprince · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://noveltieshere.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Granted that’s the point.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

First, as always, some background.

And he was right.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

And that’s also the point.

How does that work?

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

0 notes

hostingnewsfeed · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://noveltieshere.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Granted that’s the point.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

First, as always, some background.

And he was right.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

And that’s also the point.

How does that work?

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

0 notes

creativedogtrainingonline · 8 years ago

Text

The Finest Dining establishments in Hartford

Carbone’s Ristorante (860-296-9646) is located at 588 Franklin Opportunity in Hartford, Connecticut. This Italian restaurant opened in 1938 as the “South Plantation.” At that time it served southern-fried chicken, “grinders,” and spaghetti & & meatballs.

In the early 1960’s, the dining establishment changed into a more conventional Italian restaurant packed with a stylish menu and a relaxing environment. Today, Vincent Carbone supervises of his household restaurant along with the track record that goes along with it: the best food and service in Hartford.

Of course, Carbone’s is far from the only excellent restaurant in the area. In fact, it’s not even the only great Italian restaurant in Connecticut’s capitol. Peppercorn’s Grill (860-547-1714), positioned on 357 Main Street, is youthful, taking place, and the location to opt for fresh Italian food that’s a bit on the piquant side. This fine establishment also has a bar and an outdoor dining area.

There are plenty more delicious Italian dining establishments in Hartford like Maple Giant Mill and Pizza at 236 Adelaide Street (860-525-2947), Francescos Ristorante and Lounge (860-296-3024) discovered at 318 Franklin Opportunity, Casa Mia Ristorante (860-296-3441) at 381 Franklin Opportunity, and Hot Tomato’s (860-249-5100) at 1 Union Location.

If you’re liking an excellent pizza pie look no more than Lena’s First and Last Pizzaria (860-232-4481) situated at 2053 Park Street. Lena serves excellent pizza and Italian food in generous portions; their service is understood for being fast and effective. The Pizzaria likewise has a club connected to its dining establishment that showcases leading local musicians.

You have to like anything called “Max” and Hartford’s Max Downtown (860-522-2530) is no exception. Located at the heart of Harford’s business center (185 Asylum Street), Max Downtown has a wonderful menu that leans towards American fare– you need to try their “World Famous” Kansas City Strip Steak. In addition, they have a broad choice of deserts, an excellent wine list, prompt service, and a fantastic environment. Max is open for lunch and they take phone orders for takeout.

If you’re in the mood for American food however cannot get to Max’s you can always try the quiet and comfortable Prospect Coffee shop (860 523-8069) at 345 Prospect Opportunity right on the edge of Harford/West Hartford. If you desire excellent eats while you enjoy the big video game check out Mike’s Arena Dining establishment (860-296-1178) at 873 Wethersfield Avenue. Mike’s is the place in Hartford where “everybody understands your name.”

Another restaurant that provides good-old American chow is Savin Rock Roasting Company (860-206-1450) at 960 Main Street. Savin is reasonably priced and among those uncommon places that’s opened for breakfast and has a full bar.

While we’re on the topic of American food, I need to point out Black-Eyed Sally’s (860-278-7427) at 350 Asylum Street. Sally’s is the home of acclaimed southern bbq and Brand-new Orleans-style food. Their specialized is Jambalaya Blackened Catfish Ribs. This really cool location also hosts live blues several nights a week. Bottom line, Sally’s is one of the finest restaurants in Hartford.

If you desire to bite down on a bodacious hamburger sandwich run to Strategy B Hamburger Bar & & Tavern (860-231-1199) at 138 Park Road in West Harford (the nearby town to the west). Plan B uses the best 100% accredited natural beef without any included anything (like hormonal agents or prescription antibiotics). Lest we forget, this superior burger joint can certainly set you up with a terrific brew or more … or 3 … or four …

Max Burgers (860-232-3300), situated at 124 Lasalle Roadway in West Harford, has a wide choice of high-end specialized burgers. This lunch-dinner-desert place has a full bar and a heated patio. It’s actually a terrific location to take family and pals if you want an unbelievable meal and a pleasurable evening.

Another Hartford facility that provides great times and excellent food is Agave Grill (860-882-1557) at 100 Allyn Street. The super-suave Agave Grill features an innovated Mexican menu and an incredible choice of margaritas. Their mindful wait staff makes guacamole right at your table. If you cannot decide what to buy might I suggest the Habanero Barbecue Wings?

Some other scrumptious Mexican restaurants in the Hartford-area consist of Coyote Flaco (860-953-1299) at 635 New Britain Avenue, Sarape Dining establishment (860-547-1884) at 931 Broad Street, and Puerto Vallarta (860-667-8080) at 2385 Berlin Turnpike in Newington, Connecticut (a 15-minute drive to the north).

If you’re in Hartford and you’re yearning for some Chinese food you have a couple of choices. There’s the Saigon Kitchen area (860-244-2511) at 942 Main Street. Their menu functions conventional Vietnamese and Chinese dishes in large amounts. Another option for Chinese cuisine, as well as terrific sushi, is Feng Asian Restaurant (860-549-3364) at 93 Asylum Street. This fashionable Asian restaurant has an attractive atmosphere and an useful and experienced serving team. For genuine Chinese cooking and great Japanese fare travel to Szechuan Tokyo Restaurant (860-561-0180) in West Harford at 1245 New Britain Opportunity. If you’ve never ever ordered standard Chinese food before you might need to ask for assistant. Do not fret though, your delightful victuals will come plentiful and a with a kick

Obviously, there are some dining establishments in the Hartford area that defy conventional labels. For instance, there’s Corner Pug (860-231-0241) located at 1046 New Britain Opportunity in West Harford. This charming restaurant has the feel of a classic English bar. On Corner Pug’s menu you’ll discover items like Shepherd’s Pie, Fish and Chips, and Irish Nachos.

The Firebox Restaurant (860-246-1222), at 539 Broad Street, sees Executive Chef Sean Farrell prepare a menu utilizing only the very best farm-to-table ingredients in the state. This comfortable and elegant restaurant is a tad bit pricey however the great food, the wonderful service, and the Lobster Pierogies are well worth the cost.

At 391 Main Street you’ll discover Masala Indian Bar & & Restaurant (860-882-0900). This is an upscale, non-traditional Indian dining establishment that serves meals like Lobster Masala, Malai Kahab, Peppercorn-Crusted Duck, and Rogan Josh (hot lamb in a tomato cream sauce). If you’re unsure about Masala’s offer its lunch buffet a shot. Another thing, Masala’s service is beyond exceptionable.

Trumbull Kitchen area (860-493-7417) at 150 Trumbull Street is a restaurant with the most uncommon menu. For dinner you can choose between such diverse dishes as seafood Pad Thai, Atlantic Salmon, Hilda’s Meatloaf, and Hawaiian Kona Snapper. This varied but tasty menu is the brainchild of chef and co-owner Christopher Torla. Trumbull Cooking area likewise uses customers a diverse dining experience. Downstairs, you can sit at a communal table and share a myriad of dishes with family and friends. Upstairs, you and your date can take pleasure in a romantic dinner at a table for 2. A couple more aspects of Trumbull, the waiters and waitresses are exceptionally professional and the martinis are devilishly excellent.

Hartford, Connecticut might not be the biggest city in New England, but it still has a large choice of quality dining establishments. It does not matter if you’re in the mood for Italian, American, Mexican, Chinese, or something else completely various the town of Hartford has a dining establishment for you.

Ryan Hogan composes for HartfordSmarts, a website that uses all sort of entertainment information for people who go to or live in the Hartford, CT location. Learn things like excellent things to do in Hartford and naturally the very best restaurants in Hartford, CT.

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0 notes

smartwebhostingblog · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://businesswebhostingproviders.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Granted that’s the point.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

First, as always, some background.

And he was right.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

And that’s also the point.

How does that work?

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

0 notes

awesomecolorfulcollectorwombat · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://businesswebhostingproviders.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Granted that’s the point.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

First, as always, some background.

And he was right.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

And that’s also the point.

How does that work?

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

0 notes

lazilysillyprince · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://businesswebhostingproviders.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Granted that’s the point.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

First, as always, some background.

And he was right.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

And that’s also the point.

How does that work?

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

0 notes

hostingnewsfeed · 6 years ago

Text

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

New Post has been published on http://businesswebhostingproviders.com/how-netflix-opened-up-pandoras-box-with-bird-box/

How Netflix Opened Up Pandora's Box With 'Bird Box'

Granted that’s the point.

Though, it’s also brilliant.

First, as always, some background.

And he was right.

To give you a comparison that’s Star Wars: The Force Awakens type money.

And that’s also the point.

How does that work?

The Hollywood Reporter’s Daniel Feinberg may have summed it up the best:

Hint, it did not go well.

Regardless, the fact remains the movie hit the mark for Netflix, and numbers aside, it did exactly what it was intended to do – start a conversation.

0 notes