#lotta things about the education system clicking into place

[cheetour]

I like unfollowing new blogs constantly so I always keep it fresh and my dashboard is tidy. I was following an ant blog for a few months and had a lovely time. great blog. I unfollowed them because the winds of my heart lead me and a beautiful life is full of goodbyes. anyway, day 2 on ADHD medication and I decided to unfollow a bunch of blogs because I'm very excited to be able to read posts at normal speed one at a time

[elexica]

Always Tomorrow

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26433880

A gift from a while back to @alectoperdita​; part of my AU-Gust 2020 Project; and it’s about time I cross posted it to Tumblr. Summary:  Joey is a tattoo artist who specializes in Duel Monsters and scar coverage. Kaiba is a walk-in client. Tags and Trigger Warnings:  Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, AU-gust 2020, ygocollablove, Scars, lot of talking about scars, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, BUT only about the scars, Pre-Slash, but there is SO much yearning, Hurt/Comfort, but honestly mostly comfort, oops all comfort Full fic under the cut:

. . .

“Tell me something. You ever felt this way? The burdens of this life, they've really got a way of dragging you real far down to the ground.”

-          “Master of My Own Mind” by Best Coast

. . .

“We don’t take walk-ins,” Joey said.  His shirt was rolled up to the elbow, revealing intricate tattoo sleeves.  A Red-Eyes Black Dragon screamed around his forearm, moving back and forth as he handled the cash register system.  Kaiba’s eyes lingered on the smooth lines of the wings paired with the sharp forms of the scales.  And that wasn’t the only eye-catching ink that Joey was sporting—Kaiba was entranced by a series of watercolor scapegoats and kanji trailed down his neck and disappeared into the plain black shirt that read “Eat, Sleep, Duel Monsters.”  

Kaiba’s eyes widened. “But this is a tattoo parlor.  And I saw your picture on the website, you’re Joey Wheeler.  I like your work.  Is there anything that would prevent you from completing a tattoo at this time?”

“Company policy,” Joey shrugged, revealing the tip of Flame Swordsman’s flaming sword, poking out from under his collar.  “We can’t just drop everything for everyone who wanders in.  There’s a system.” It must be a very large piece, Kaiba reasoned, given the size of the flame.  He wanted desperately to see more of it.

“Name the price.  I can pay upfront.”

Joey shrugged again. “I’ve got a schedule, man.”

Kaiba removed his credit card, placing the heavy material on the glass countertop.  The glossy black card opened many doors for him.  An assortment of rings for various piercings were posed in black velvet in the case beneath.

“You are clearly not busy.”  

Joey looked offended and went back to logging inventory.

Kaiba was not a man who was skillful in pleading—but he was more than capable at negotiation.  The card clicked threateningly on the counter as Kaiba impatiently tapped it.  

“Fine.  Are you available for a consultation?”

Joey smiled warmly, recognizing his own victory.  “Now we’re talkin’, c’mon back.”

Kaiba followed obediently, gawking over the large sigil of the millennium eye that all but glowed at the nape of his neck.  The longer blond strands of his hair brushed against the icon’s upper eyelid.  

The hallway turned into an actual, honest-to-god office, which was the last thing Kaiba expected. Joey pulled out a sketchbook as he leaned against his black desk.  Joey waved one hand for Kaiba to sit, a swirling monochrome haze behind the image of the cartoon time wizard with his little scepter.

“So, what are you thinking? You’re tall as hell, so there’s plenty of canvas!” Joey laughed, all sunshine and shiny white teeth.  

Kaiba’s cheeks burned as he drummed up the will to answer the question.  “In my research, you have something of a specialty in scar cover-ups.” Kaiba was not a man who would cower in his own shame.  But the thought of baring himself completely, his secrets and those eternal marks of his loss, for this stranger… it stung at his dignity.  He needed to do something today, or he would lose the will.

Joey’s smile dimmed compassionately.  This was not going to be a routine intake appointment.  He prided himself on careful and clever scar coverage, but those appointments usually took on a different tenor.  Few people have scars from positive experiences, and the raw intensity of Joey’s client gave the clear impression that it would hardly be a routine appointment.

“I do,” Joey swallowed, “So, what are we working with?”

It was such a simple question.  Kaiba adjusted the cufflinks on his wrists nervously.  He had promised himself he wouldn’t be ashamed.  There was nothing that he had done wrong.

He wished Mokuba had come with him.  It was his idea in the first place.

Joey was suddenly very close, just inches away.  “Hey, it’s alright.  Take a breath.”

Kaiba did not want to obey his command, but he couldn’t resist a sharp intake of breath.  He released it slowly, as if to prove a point. He wasn’t freaking out.  

“For a lotta people, tattoos that cover scars transform a person’s relationship to their body, and to what happened to ‘em.  It can be part of the healing process,” Joey said, slowly.  The sheer volume of his empathy weighed down his words and made them linger in Kaiba’s mind.

Transform.  Happened. Healing.

Kaiba continued to take long, intentional breaths.  The scars burned at the back of his neck and across his back.

Joey reached out a hand towards Kaiba’s face before thinking better of making contact.  The hand froze there, suspended close to his cheekbone. It was then that Kaiba realized his eyes were leaking tears.  Joey had moved to wipe them away.

This whole event was too humiliating, Kaiba thought.  And he couldn’t do it.  

“This was a bad idea,” Kaiba said, sucking in enough air to straighten his back.  He bore a hole in the wall with his eyes, trying to absorb any collateral moisture.  

“Hey, for a lotta people, it’s a part of reclaiming your body, after something hard,” Joey curled his fingers around the hem of his shirt and revealed a gnarly scar just above his right hip.  It was composed of a lot of smaller cuts, webbed together in a semi-circle. The raised skin had been left exposed, with dashes of black woven in to create the swirl at the center of the “Polymerization” card.  The only colors were those of the orange dragons swimming around the vortex in their own lazy waves.  “It was for me.  My friend Yugi did this one.”

Joey reached out, and slowly took Kaiba’s hand.  

“It doesn’t have to cover the whole thing, if you don’t want it too.  See!”

He drew Kaiba’s hand in, softly bringing Kaiba’s fingertips to his skin.  Kaiba’s arm was entirely tense, and he could have pulled back at any time.  But he couldn’t resist—the curiosity bubbled within him.  The pads of his fingers skimmed over the scar tissue in its randomness, and the disciplined smooth black stripes emanating from the twisted center.  Kaiba was almost shocked at how warm Joey’s skin was.  He wanted desperately to touch more, but when Joey dropped his hand, Kaiba withdrew it.  

“Alright, I showed you mine.  You feelin’ up to showing me yours?”  Joey’s grin was so painfully warm.

Kaiba couldn’t help but nod. He began to unbutton his shirt. Button by button, Kaiba kept his breathing steady by force of will.  The rise and fall of his chest felt especially vulnerable with his buttons undone. He moved to his cufflinks.

“Ah, shirt’s fine, but ya gotta warn me if the pants are comin’ off too!” Joey said with a gentle laugh. Joey’s eyes were undeniably glued to Kaiba’s abs, which made Kaiba’s breathing even more fragile.

Kaiba paused, fingers fumbling with the cufflink on his right hand.  “It… just my shirt.”  Kaiba spent his life speaking in eloquent sentences that drove investors to throw money at any idea that so must as sparked in his mind.  He gave talks at industry conventions that brought the consumer electronics world to its knees.  And he couldn’t force out a full sentence in front of this man.

“It’s okay,” Joey reassured. It didn’t feel practiced or put on. It almost felt like talking to a therapist.

Kaiba tugged off his shirt in one smooth move.  

Finally, it was Joey’s turn to have the wind knocked out of him.  

Kaiba braced for the inevitable questions.  Those long, deep, even lines across his back scorched under the other man’s stare. And the little lines at the nape of his neck seared.  The best lie that Kaiba had brainstormed on his way over was that it was a very bizarre car accident.  Kaiba stressed internally that perhaps Joey thought Kaiba had done this on purpose, though the mechanics would have been infeasible.

But, like a professional, Joey didn’t ask any questions.  He didn’t gasp.  He didn’t even gawk for a significant amount of time.

“Alright!” Joey said, perhaps a touch too upbeat.  “So, what’re we talkin’?”

Kaiba inhaled very slowly and began to replace his light blue Oxford shirt.  “You, clearly, appreciate Duel Monsters.”

“Ha!  Appreciate is a diplomatic way ta put it!  I’m one a’ the greatest duelists that Domino has eva seen!” Joey’s smile was back to beaming at full wattage, like he hadn’t just witnessed Kaiba’s secret torture.

Kaiba was determined not to highlight his position in Kaiba Corp.  The last thing he needed was this man to know everything—or make any educated guesses.  He was already trying to slough off the sensation of being pitied.  Still, he’d have to put this amateur in his place.  “I have been called the Prince of Cards, and was National Champion, but now is hardly the time—”

Joey put down the Duel Disk he had grabbed from a drawer in his desk.  “Yeah, not the time.”

Kaiba failed to suppress a smirk.  It was jarring how quickly this man could bring him back to himself.  “Anyway, I thought I could cover the… damage on the back with the Blue Eyes Ultimate Dragon.”

Joey nodded.  “That sounds super sick!! But that is going to take a lot of planning.  And you want—”

“Nothing to show through. I was sort of imagining it in the style of a Yakuza boss.  Just very powerful.”

Joey looked up, imagining it in his mind’s eye.  “Alright, I can take down the information and draw up some sketches.  That would be a very expensive piece, and pretty time consuming for both of us.”

“Money is no object,” Kaiba stated, ice cold and prideful.

“Is there anything else you’re thinking of?” Joey asked.

Kaiba’s hand flew to the back of his neck.  “A very small piece of code.  I’ll write it down.”  

The pad was heavier than Kaiba had anticipated, and Kaiba almost trembled as he wrote out the phrase: “pid_t pid = fork();”.

“I have never done a tattoo like that!” Joey remarked. “This won’t fully cover the scar.”

Kaiba nodded sternly. “That’s fine.  It actually should go between the lines.  It’s a very specific piece of code: it’s the basic invocation of a ‘fork,’ which is how a program splits itself and spawns new programs. It’s critical to the function of any Linux system, anywhere.  One process starts when you boot up, and then it’s all forks from there.”

“Uh, ok.  And what does that have to do with you, exactly?” Joey raised an eyebrow, affecting a serious “thinking” face.

“I don’t believe in fate. I make my choices and I live with them. For me, it means that I am always at a new decision point, and I build my life on these decision points.  No one else builds it for me,” Kaiba looked directly into Joey’s attentive caramel eyes.  “And my past does not define me.  I am one fork away from a new program.  The next challenge.  A new life.”  

The explanation spread a smile across Joey’s face. “That would take me maybe, thirty minutes?  I could do it now, if you’d like.  In that spot, it would hurt like a bitch, but something tells me—”

“Pain is no object.”

“Yeah, right, so, if you’re still determined to walk out of here with a tatt, we can do that,” Joey said.

Kaiba smiled, just a tiny bit.  “I’d like that.”

 FIN

 . . .

“For me there's always tomorrow, even when I'm drowning in my sorrows. I gotta focus, gotta rewind, gotta stay the master of my own mind.”

-          Best Coast “Master of My Own Mind”

  The whole fic is really inspired by a difficult time in my life, and this really great Best Coast song, “Master of My Own Mind,” which everyone should listen to, because it’s very compelling.

Credit to my irl boy Jack for the coding tattoo idea that I don’t *think* has been done before! Without him, this would be “hello world” lol!

Like the boys with tattoos? You'd love Alecto's work, "A Fool's Puzzle" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23464288).

Image credit:  Photo by Sebastian Voortman from Pexels Edits by me.  

[sevenseasofrog]

Lads ‘n Lasses

pairing: highschool!ben x fem!reader

summary: single sex schools are never boring

word count: 2982

a/n: wagwan gs, this might not be to everyone’s taste but i’ll see how it goes, this is the first time i’ve imagined myself as the reader while writing ?? not as someone else reading it ?? it’s also set in a manchesterish sort of place bc i had a major mind block trying to write about anywhere else other than where i actually live ,, that probably sounds weird idk aha, it’s defo an au where ben basically is still in education and all sorts of chaos takes place as the year moves forward ,, anyway ,, enjoy !! if you have any questions or likewise feel free to send an ask bc i see how it could be semi confusing ,, love u all a lotta :) ❤️

here’s also some stuff that could make it less confusing (especially if you’re not familiar with lingo from north west england, i’ll maybe add to this with each new chapter that comes out :)

St. Mary’s/ Mary’s- the all girls school the reader attends, quite middle class and full of students who like to make drama for their own entertainment, strong focus on languages and arts

St. Peter’s/ St. Pete’s - the all boys ‘brother’ school to St. Mary’s, very laddish with a focus on sports and science

Niamh & Maria - the reader’s two closest and longest friends

Tram/Met - British version of an overground subway?

Shout - another word for a houseparty

Snide - unfair

Swear down - saying you are telling the truth

also, the reader and ben are between the ages of like 17 and 18ish, the whole thing isn’t very accurate to the uk school system but it works a little better like that so yall are gonna have to go with it aha

ps, this chapter is spilt in two bc i got very carried away when writing it and tumblr has a word limit, hmph. however, that does technically mean that i can say i’ve written two chapters not just one ?? go me !!

Chapter 1: September

4th of September, the night before a new term, new academic year and a nearly fresh start. Your last year at St Mary’s had not been something you were dreading so to speak, and now it was finally here. Thanks to upcoming exams, you only had a little over five months to get through before freedom, and eventually, a completely clean slate at a new, far less intimidating school environment. Anticipation building, you called it a night

6:15am. You woke up to the painful sound of your alarm clock, early morning sun peeking through the split between the curtains. Eager to silence the blaring noise you crawled out of the comfort of the duvet and hastily clicked the stop button in the centre of your phone screen. You made your way into the bathroom, careful not to wake your parents, brushed your teeth and quickly got undressed before stepping into the shower, letting the cool water run down your back without getting your hair wet, since you had it cut and washed yesterday afternoon. Slipping on your school uniform you caught eye of yourself in the mirror and decided that you had nothing to lose by putting on a little makeup, you had time after all. It was about 7am when you made your way downstairs, the house still quiet with only you awake. These mornings were the ones you liked best, just you and your own thoughts, with no one to bother you other than the dogs. It was still relatively warm during the September days so you chose to leave your jumper hung over a chair in the kitchen, putting just your blazer over your crisp, white blouse. Throwing an apple and cereal bar into your bag for later in the day, you figured that you might as well also pack some paracetamol and chewing gum for good measure, knowing it would come in handy eventually. You headed into the hallway to sit on the bottom step of the stairs to put your shoes on, tying the laces as tight as you possibly could, slung the black tote over your shoulder and grabbed your set of keys, which were usually on a hook which your dad had attached to the wall earlier in the year.

The walk to the tram stop was pleasant enough. There was no real breeze and you walked with your hands in you pockets to the beat of the music. Skipping down the steps to the platform to buy a ticket for the week, the change rattled in your pocket, and you had to cover it to stop anything flying out. Once you had finally managed to get the machine to produce a ticket after it spat out the coins you tried to use a few times, you spun round and walked towards the sheltered seats down the further end of the stop. It was only 7:45 by this stage and there were still very few people around. Missing the school rush was certainly worth it for you, and it also meant there was time to grab a coffee on the way to school with Niamh and Maria, who both got on at later stops anyway. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, deciding to text your parents, as you did every morning to let them know you were okay. You skipped a few songs before slipping your phone back into your pocket and looking up to examine your surroundings, following a good few weeks of not coming to the somewhat grimy metro stop, nothing had changed. The ground was still caked in chewing gum, graffiti littered the ticket machines, and the bin was, as ever, overflowing.

There was one thing different though, slightly odd too. A blonde haired boy who you had never seen before was stood on the opposite platform. Weird. It was then that you noticed he was in the uniform for St. Peter’s, with a backpack hung on one shoulder and a gym bag on the floor- grim move from the newbie. It suddenly hit you however. He was on the wrong platform, and could end up getting on a tram further into the city centre rather than away from it. God, this was awkward. You could leave him? it would be kind of funny? but also a bit snide.

No.

Don’t do that you told yourself. Deciding to ‘start the new term right’ you cleared your throat before shouting across

“You going to St. Pete’s mate?”

He looked up from the ground, obviously somewhat confused, checking to see whoever the person who had shouted was talking too. Luckily, this was quite easy, given that he then noticed that he was in fact the only person on the platform. You gave a wave and as friendly a smile as you could muster given it wasn’t even 8 o’clock yet, in a desperate attempt to get his attention, which just so happened to work.

“Um, yeah. Why?”

“Because given that you’re on the wrong platform, you’re gonna have a very hard time getting there”. His jaw dropped a little

“You are joking, right?”

“Nope!”, you popped the ‘p’, just for emphasis, “So... are you just gonna stand there like a lemon or change platforms then?”. He quickly picked his bag off the ground and jogged up the steps to the bridge. As he crossed you rolled the waistband of your skirt up, realising that you previously looked a little to nun-ish for your liking. By the time you had finished fixing up your appearance the mysterious blonde was plodding down the steps, towards you. Shit. Now what?

You had just about composed yourself by the time he reached you.

“Ben. Ben Jones” he spoke, before offering his hand to shake.

“You’re very proper aren’t you!?”, you thought out loud “guessing you're not from up here then hm? Name’s y/n l/n by the way, I go to St. Mary’s”, you said, trying to remain friendly.

“Yeah, moved up from Bournemouth at the start of summer. My parents wanted to come up here so I had a chance of getting some sort of sports scholarship or something for rugby, y’know, for uni and that”. He spoke with quite a low, quiet voice, but definitely had a southern accent that you couldn’t imagine going any time soon. Now he was stood nearer, you had managed to get a clearer picture of Ben; he was very well built and had the physique of a genuine sportsman, He wasn’t too tall- but still taller than you by a considerable amount. His facial features were mostly soft, although his nose looked like it could have been broken in past games and he had the most striking green eyes.

“Well, you’d have had a pretty difficult time getting anywhere if you were stuck in the centre of town.” you both let out a laugh.

“Honestly, I’m such a melt, only I could do that on one of the few days that being on time actually matters”. You broke eye contact momentarily to see that a tram was approaching.

“Right then” you said, stepping towards the edge of the platform. “We’re a bit early but I normally get a coffee anyway, you can come if you want? I mean, you don’t have to get this one if you don’t want but if you do then the offer’s there..” You trailed off, noticing that you had waffled on a bit.

“Aha, no it’s fine! I’d be happy to get this one, you’re literally the first person I’ve spoken to who’s like, my age so it’s not like I have anyone to wait for. Plus, I’ll probably get lost if you abandon me now.” He looked up with puppy dog eyes after picking his gym bag off the floor again.

Stepping on the tram, you decided to offer him your first piece of valuable advice; “Right… Well. If we’re gonna be mates I better give you the rules of the road up here”.

“Go on then, local expert”, he said with a smirk.

“First things first. Don’t put your bag on the floor. It’s crusty and makes you look like a gimp”.

“Noted”, he spoke as the pair of you sat on the grey seats.

“Second. Most of the boys are maniacs and the girls are awful bitches, I’d say that I’d help you figure out who’s who but you’ll probably be able to decide for yourself”.

“Hm, you’re really selling it to me. The brutal honesty is a nice touch”. You gave a playful punch to the side of his arm, with a grin smeared across your face.

“Swear down mate, you’ll thank me later for this though.”

The journey passed in a flash, the pair of you talking like friends reunited. You learnt that he had a beagle named Frankie, lived not too far from you, he played rugby for teams but also enjoyed drama and music.

“You’re quite the character aren’t you! can’t say I took you for a performing arts kinda guy”

“Well… What kind of person did you take me as then, all knowing-y/n”

“Well Ben from Bournemouth.. that would be telling wouldn’t it, I can tell you however that this is our stop though”. You both stood up, grabbing your bags and heading for the doors of the carriage. You had a text from Niamh and Maria earlier on in the journey saying they’d be late and there was no point waiting for them, so you carried on the walk alone with Ben.

“If I left you here right now, would you have any clue where to go?” you questioned, genuinely intrigued.

“Erm.. no… I would have to stand around for a bit and hope someone takes pity on me”

“What about google maps though??”

“Hmm.. Let’s just say that there’s a reason I don’t take geography”

The coffee shop was about the same distance from the tram stop as is was from school, and it was about 20 past 8 when you pushed open the door with a small chime. It was a cosy little café, situated on the corner of the market street with wicker chairs outside and brown leather sofas inside. You never stayed in however, much preferring to enjoy whatever you brought during the rest of the walk to school. Today was a latte day, no questions asked. You liked to rotate throughout a few different drinks, depending on your mood. Ben stood close by as you explained how you’d most definitely be on black coffee by this time next week, but you might have the odd pumpkin spiced latte as September moved into October, just for novelty really. He gave out a small chuckle,

“You really are in a league of your own aren’t you? I’ve known you like an hour and I’m convinced you hold the secrets of the universe or some shit”. You liked Ben. He was good company and you had a fair bit in common;

“and what if I did hold the secrets of the universe huh?”

“I’d use the black market to sell you to a looney philosopher somewhere or other and make myself some fat stacks.” You both doubled over in complete hysterics. Would it be weird to say that you’d never bonded so quickly with someone? yeah, probably you thought, brushing the idea away quickly. Your giggle fit was quickly broken up however when the barista announced that your drink was ready, you fished the loose change out of your pocket and handed it over moments later,

“keep the change mate” you said politely, turning on your heel towards the door once again.

“You really are quite the angel aren’t you?” the boy walking next to you said “ooooo, keep the change mate, I’m y/n and I am the source of all life and joy” he mocked.

“You know it blondie”, you retorted with a smirk.

You had walked a fair deal further, now following the main road and considerably nearer to school when Ben reached into his inside pocket .pulling out a cigarette and lighter. You silently watched out of the corner of your eye as he held the stick in his mouth and lit one end, he inhaled deeply before taking it from between his lips to exhale. Before his could bring his hand back up however, you plucked it from his fingers and drew a breath from it yourself before throwing it down and stamping on it. Ben simply stood with his mouth hung open looking dumbfounded. “Whoa steady on...What the fuck was that about then? Oh… and for the record, you owe me a cig now!”, he spoke with a tone of shock mixed with annoyance

“Boo-Hoo”, you spoke back, “But neither of us can have a first day back if we get excluded before we even get to school you dimwit. There’s teachers stood by the traffic lights down there”, you pointed further down the pavement. “See for yourself if you want…” you trailed off. Ben looked a little guilty, realising that he could have got you both in a good deal of trouble,

“Ah, Right, Okay… Sorry about that..”

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly. It’s fine, you’re new! You’ve got a lot to learn still”, you gave him a reassuring smile, but you could tell that he still felt a twinge of regret.

The pair of you carried on the walk in a comfortable silence, and as you approached St. Peter’s a thought struck you. “Right. After school, wait for me here, I don’t really want you being lost in a new town stuck on my conscience all night”

“How noble of you, Miss y/l/n! How will I ever repay you for this selfless act of charity!” He exaggerated, running his hands through his hair as he spoke.

“We’ll have to see about that one won’t we, I guess”, You hitched your bag back onto your shoulder properly. Before he turned into the courtyard of his new school he grabbed your arm,

“Wait a minute... you give off way too much chaotic energy for things to run smoothly. What’s your snap or your number or something incase something goes horribly wrong” He spoke again, with a slight twinkle in his eyes.

“Hm, go on then, I’ll give you my number then you can just add me on snapchat with it too if you really want. Two birds with one stone ‘n all that”, you reached into your bag and pulled out a pen. “Gimmie something to write on, chop chop matey!” you spoke hurridley, realising that you only had 10 minutes before you needed to be sat down in your first registration of the academic year. In a panic, he stuck out his hand, and you began to scribble down the first few digits.

“Fucking hell! I thought you were writing it down not tattooing it!”, he took in a sharp breath.

“Hm.. What.. Wait! Shit, sorry.. I’m a bit heavy handed”. You finished writing the numbers down with a conscious attempt not to press quite so hard and then threw the pen back into your bag.

“Aight then, I’ll see you later yeah?” He looked up at you,

“See ya later lemon boy”. You shot another smile before continuing on a few meters further down the path and approached the gates of St. Mary’s.

Hello old friend, you thought before taking a deep breath and turning into the school, with no way out for the next few hours at least. You stepped hurriedly through the labyrinth of corridors before reaching the room where you’d be registered. Throwing your bag onto your usual desk you could feel two sets of eyes on you.

“y/n l/n, You have some explaining to do! go on then, who’s the boy?” Niamh began, a devilish grin on her face.

“Gimme a second to sort my life out yeah? I just need to get my bearings then you can interrogate me”, you spoke, followed by a heavy sigh. After you put your bag in your new locker you returned to the desk where you were greeted by your long time friends once again. “Wait a minute, how do you even know? started hiring government spies or some shit?”

“Erm, no. But that’s quite a good idea actually. If you’re that desperate to know, Lewis sent me a message asking if you’d got a boyfriend over summer..” You let out a scoff before Maria could continue. “He still really likes you ya know?”

“Yes mum, I do know, you remind me most days” You all let out a laugh, attracting some attention from the neighboring tables.

“We’re off topic, you still need to explain yourself and we have like, 3 minutes until the bell goes” Niamh interrupted, she had always been the most conscious member of the group, as much as both you and Maria hated to admit.

“Right, I’ll keep it simple. I was at the met stop and he was stood on the wrong side so I told him to switch otherwise he’d never make it to school then he told me that his name’s Ben and he’s new and he’s in our year and then we got on the tram and then we went to get coffee then he decided he wanted a smoke and then I told him off and then we got to school and then I told him I’d meet him after school then I walked into school and now I’m here with you two” You barely paused for breath and gasped before either of your friends could continue, both of them looking shocked and rather confused.

“Right. You can explain that all again later in a bit only at least 76 times slower. ok? thanks? nice” is all Maria managed to respond before the door swung open and your teacher walked in...

Hope you enjoy !!❤️

Let me know if you want adding to the taglist !! :)

[pannalou-journal]

I first spotted the amazing designs by MELISA MINCA on a couple of my friends and I was curious to know who was behind it. What I didn't expect was an upcycling, Berlin based fashion designer who additionally has an amazing eye for visuals and moods. We got to do a little personal interview with her that gives an insight into how she started her own brand and what ethical fashion can also be about today! Usually I don’t post the whole story in my Tumblr but I want you guys to see the whole Interview I did with this great upcoming ethical designer. So let’s start!

Melisa tell us more about where you're from and where you have been raised? I was born in a small town called Trenčín in Slovakia. But I'd say I'm from Europe. We moved when I was 1 and thus I grew up in Bratislava.

You currently live in Berlin so can you tell us why you chose this place?

I've lived in Berlin for 3 years now. After three visits and finishing my studies I decided to move here and since then I didn't really want to go back to Slovakia. Berlin is an amazing place full of exciting opportunities and interesting people. I love it because diversity and oddness are celebrated here and I'm able to be myself (whatever that 'self' is on that particular day) without being constantly. Alternative lifestyles thrive here and it's incredibly inspiring!

How did you start with fashion?

I've had a blog for six years now and been sewing for three of those. Learning how to sew was a question of time for me. My mother, my aunt, my grandma all sew and my great-grandma even used to run her own tailoring shop. During the Soviet times in Slovakia making your own clothes was the only way to stand out from the crowd. So I think this mindset was passed on to me from the women in my family. As a teenager my love for expressing myself with clothes started to develop and on my style blog I documented it to exchange inspiration with others. What sparked my interest in ethical fashion was definitely my Sustainable Development Master Studies, which I finished off with writing my dissertation on sustainability of fashion in Slovakia. This sounds amazing to us! So what do you think where your passion comes from?

I like being creative, but with a purpose or functionality. Dressing myself and other human beings fulfills that requirement nicely. I feel like what we wear influences who we are and vice versa. For me it's fascinating to play with that and come up with ways to enhance and celebrate who we are and who we want to be on a particular day or in life in general.

What do you think who influenced and inspired you the most besides your family traditions?

I guess the very early interest, although quite superficial, was sparked by my mother, who likes to follow fashion trends, but also has an amazing sense of style. From a very young age she took me shopping for clothes not only as necessity but more as a fun and bonding pastime. What do you love the most about fashion?

I love the transformative effect it can have. Not just on your look, but on your mood and moods of others. I love when fashion is political, when it makes a statement and has the potential to transform people's opinions on things that matter, such as breaking the beauty standard and stereotypes and achieving more understanding and empathy. And I love how fashion is already transforming itself from within to be more sustainable and conscious of its impact, although very slowly and very bottom-up. Fashion has no (or shouldn't have any) boundaries!

If it wouldn't be fashion...Have you ever thought about doing anything else? What would it be?

With my education, I'd probably work for an NGO on something that involves a lot of traveling, exploring new places, moving and solving problems creatively with new technology.

Please tell us more about your amazing upcycling brand?

First of all, it's a testament that ethical fashion can be more than just brown, hemp and for rich people. MM is for eccentric individuals who want to stand out, but at the same time not contribute to the bullsh*t with which the fashion industry is fooling consumers and exploiting its employees. My mission is to transform the way people look at clothes, but also the way they treat each other. What one is wearing shouldn't perpetuate any sort of hierarchy, but instead celebrate our diversity. 

As a consequence I divide MM to 2 collections: 'System Recovery' is made up of upcycled and repurposed pieces from 2nd hand materials such as curtains, blanket covers, table cloths. I also rework clothes, which I get in 2nd hands or flea markets. These are all one of a kind, and I totally live for that since uniqueness is important for me. The custom collection are pieces which I make to order for my clients after I've made a sample collection. They also come to my studio to be measured and I really love this process since it's so personal. The amazing satisfaction I feel when I'm able to create a piece which will be significant to the person wearing it and they won't throw it out after one season.

Your pieces are very recent and necessary in a fast driving fashion industry so did you also get the chance to join Fashion Week?

I did! But only as an attendee and a model so far. It was for DOMINIKA KOZAKOVA at Prague FW this September. Was super fun, but also challenging since I'm not used to giving full control over my appearance to a stranger. I didn't recognize myself in the mirror. It was definitely a valuable experience.

I feel you - for me it would be also strange to hand control. What do you think where you expect yourself in 10 years?

Oh god, I don't like this question. Maybe because these days the future is so uncertain that it's hard to even tell what my life will be in a year. I'm very career oriented, so probably still hustling, but hopefully less hard!

Let’s make it personal: Your three favorite things in life, which you couldn’t live without?

If you're asking about physical things... Pizza Ristorante Funghi, sewing machine, my phone...

Not physical things:

Falling in love, internet and hot summers!

How would you describe your personal style in three words?

Eclectic, Flashy, Chameleon

If you believe in fashion faux-pas - what’s your personal faux-pas?

I don't believe in this, but maybe from the perspective of the general public: I have holes in almost all my socks, stains and generally sometimes my clothes are dirty and smelly :D We have a saying in Slovakia which describes this situation very well: The shoemaker goes barefoot.

We want to know more about your personal preferences so for the fun factor some 'either…or' questions and you can decide: Hip Hop, I love moving my non-existent booty.

Cat or Dog? Dogs, cats hate me...

Sneakers or Heels? Sneakers, I'm comfy as fu**!

City or Country? City forever!

Bicycle or Car? Car, even tho bike is my main means of transport. I recently started driving and it's a lotta fun!

Seoul or Tokyo? (We can also play this with New York or Paris?) Out of those I only spent extended period of time in NYC, so I'm gonna say Berlin!

Style or Function? Both at the same time!

Early or always running? Always running...

You can find all her beautiful pieces at her ONLINE STORE just a click away but also in IRONIC GALLERY in Berlin and ENTER in Prague. 

Photos: MELISA MINCA 

Find Article: PAPERBOATS

Text & Interview: JANA THERESA LOU