#pure slam 2009

[mykneeshurt]

Fields of Tulips - two

09 Soap x F!reader

All warnings are on the title page of this series

Chapter one

Synopsis - after a shaky first meeting with Captain McTavish, it’s time to meet your team.

A/N - Ghost and Gaz are based off 2022 MW, I prefer their characters/character models to 2009 MW2

Monday morning came round fast, your alarm buzzed at 6am and boy did it feel good to be back on base. To hear the dull drumming of boots on the linoleum floor, the laughs and banter from fellow soldiers filled the hallways.

Stretching your cramped legs you pushed your reoccurring dream to the back of your mind. There was no way it was about to impact on your first day. A new start. A new team. A new mission. It was exactly what you needed. Sheets were drenched, again, rolling your eyes you trudged towards the shower. Hoping the hot water would provide some solace from your lingering thoughts.

Make it hot … burn yourself … you’ll never be clean … they died because of you … you’re gonna fail today … worthless … pathetic

You did make the water hotter, the light sting of the liquid was enough to silence the thoughts that ravaged you. Every waking hour. Every fucking second.

Stepping out the shower you glare at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired, a little gaunt even. A scar ran down the left side of your body …

Adam’s’ body led huddled into your chest, the fuselage of the plane dug into your torso, into your abdomen. Blood dripped from the open wound into a small puddle beneath you. It smelt strongly of iron.

You shook your head, and tried to focus on your next task. As you brushed your teeth the repetitive motion lulled you into a trance, up and down, left and right …

Your eyes were heavy, a sharp stinging pain raged within your body as you tried to move. The metal creaked and moaned above you, you tried to scream but no sound came.

Tears stung your eyes as you spat the toothpaste into the sink. ‘Fuck’ you whispered to yourself. Today cannot be a bad day. But it will be. Focusing on your breathing you counted to four, imagining a box. In for four, out for four. Trying desperately to cling onto your sanity, to cling onto normality.

- - - -

After you’d managed to get dressed you walked to the canteen, it was still pretty early so it should have been quiet. Except it wasn’t. The canteen was a bustling hive of activity, soldiers sipping coffee, scoffing eggs into their mouths ready for the day a head.

Keeping your head down you tried to keep to yourself, not to being any attention to yourself.

It lasted all of 2 minutes.

You felt something hit your back, something soft and moist. Whipping around you saw a soggy old banana skin at your feet, part of its rotten membrane coated your hoodie. Sighing you heard a chorus of sniggers and giggles coming from one of the tables.

You marched over, furious at the audacity of the person who threw it at you. As you approached you saw a group men eyeing you up and down. A lamb to the slaughter.

‘No one wants you here, Adams died cause of you.’ His voice full of venom penetrated your feeble armour. ‘Fuck you!’ You shouted, fists shaking from pure fury. The man slammed his fists on the table, the thud echoed in the canteen instantly silencing the busy conversations.

Within an instant he had you by the collar and shoved you up against the concrete wall. ‘Fuck you say to me? Fuckin murderer. Should have been you who died on that plane.’ His face contorted with sheer malice, spitting his words at you. You kept your voice low ‘I said fuck you.’

He slammed your back into the wall again causing your head to bounce off it. ‘I’ll fuckin end you, stupid bitch.’ Feeling your anger overflow you spat in his face, a smug grin spreading over your lips. The man wound his arm back ready to lay into you, fist clenched, veins protruding.

As he swung you managed to duck just in time, as you ducked you tackled him to the floor. The canteen erupted in a throng of cheers and chants, encouraging a fight to happen between the two of you. You managed to get a lucky punch in, your knuckles connected with the soft cartilage in his nose.

A grinding and popping noise rang out as blood started to stream from his nose. Just as you were about to swing again a forearm wrapped around your waist lifting you effortlessly. They placed you over their shoulder and stormed out of the canteen. Staring at the solider on the floor you flipped him off smiling at your lucky win.

As you entered the corridor you began pounding on the back of your captor. ‘Put me down! Who the fuck do you think you are?!’ You were taken into a small office, the door slammed behind you as you were thrust onto the floor.

Straightening up you were finally able to see who had taken you. Oh fuck. Of course. ‘Captain’ you said meekly, instantly withdrawing into your shell. You were fucked and you knew it.

‘You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?’ He asked standing over you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. His face was stoic, not giving anything away but his voice was stern, he was pissed. You’ve done it now, see? Can’t do anything right. It really should have been you on that plane.

Brushing yourself off you chewed your cheek ‘he started it! He threw a mouldy banana at me!’

‘So you thought the correct thing to do was to tackle him to the floor and break his nose?’

‘Bastard deserved it. Told me I should have died in the plane.’

Soap pinched his brow and sighed heavily. ‘Alright, maybe he did deserve it, but it doesn’t give you the right to assault him. You aren’t judge jury and executioner.’

‘Oh? And what would you have done if you were me?’ You scoffed, crossing your arms. Mirroring his stance.

‘We ain’t talking about me lass.’

‘No that’s right. I’m the one who has to put up with this. I’m the one who was in that plane crash. I’m the one who sees their fucking faces every day, every time I close my eyes. Me. So excuse me if the way I stick up for myself is a little unconventional.’ Your chest was heaving. Who the fuck did he this he was?

Feeling tears start to sting behind your eyes you quickly darted around Soap. He tried to reach out for you but you pushed his hand away. ‘Don’t. I’ll see you in the gym.’ He dropped his hand and nodded, letting you leave.

Tulips. Think of the tulips.

———

After eventually calming yourself down you traipsed towards the gym, eyes still damp from your tears. Massaging your face you tried to calm yourself. The sound of punches and bare feet on mats sounded from behind the closed door.

This was it. Time to meet your new team mates.

Slipping into the gym you kept your hood up and slid onto one of the benches. Ok the mats were two men, one was a rather handsome young man. Young freshly shaven, a cheeky smile and a fantastic pair of legs. The other was a mountain of a man, broad and solid, he wore a mask with a crudely painted skull on it.

Soap and Price were talking amongst themselves as the two men beat the shit out of one another. You sat with your arms crossed, impressed at how nimble and fast they both were. Their movements were hypnotising, fluid. Each counter attack carefully calculated and executed, it was as if they were dancing with one another.

You were so lost in the performance before you that you didn’t notice Soap sit next to you. ‘You alright kid?’ He asked leaning on bis thighs. Sighing you took your hood down, biting on your thumb. ‘Yeah I guess. I’m not sorry for what I said, but I’m sorry for yelling at you.’

‘I get it. No need to apologise, but you should see someone. Just talk, see how you feel.’

‘I … I don’t know if I can.’

He remained still, mulling over your words. You felt as if he knew what you were going through, his tone was gentle. He wasn’t probing, he wasn’t being nosey, it seemed like he cared. A feeling you weren’t used to anymore. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.

‘I know. It’s tough. You can’t let it consume you though. You’ll lose yourself in it … trust me’ he half heartedly smiled at you. ‘Just think about it?’

You tried to smile back, but it came out as a grimace. ‘Yeah I guess I’ll try.’

‘Atta girl. Now, wanna come meet yah team? They been wanting to meet you.’

He led you over to the two men who were taking a break, the man with the mask regarded you closely. Eyeing you up and down as he drank the water from his scuffed bottle. ‘This is Ghost. Sniper, don’t mind the mask he’s an ugly fucker underneath.’ Ghost? Fitting. He’s got soap a glare but the corner of his eyes creased, clearly hiding a smile.

‘And this is Gaz. Chopsy, so don’t let him give you a hard time. But he’s one hell of solider.’ Gaz laughed, showing brilliant white teeth and a killer smile. ‘Nice to meet you love. Think you’re ready to settle in with us?’

You smiled up at him, he instantly put you at ease, his face was so kind. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

‘Boys this is Sargent Dunn. Sniper and demolitions expert.’

‘Demolitions eh? Gonna give cap the run for his money then?’ Gaz smiled, clearly trying to get a rise out of Soap.

‘You didn’t say you were in demolitions too sir’ you asked peering up at him.

‘Aye. Could probably teach you a thing or two.’ Fucker was getting smart.

‘Mmmm we’ll see. You don’t have the woman’s touch though. That I can guarantee.’

Gaz and Ghost both chuckled at your retort. ‘Oh and what would the woman’s touch be?’ He asked, head cocked, eyebrow raised. Holding his gaze you smiled ‘I always know where to find the on button.’ Soap smiled down at you, his normally stoic serious demeanour slipped for just a second. Gaz and Ghost let out a roar of laughter, you finally felt welcome. You felt no judgement after what happened.

It didn’t feel like home quite yet but maybe one day it could be.

———

A/N - fuckin hell this took ages to write lmfao I think the writers block is lifting. I PRAY

Taglist - @deadbranch @brewed-pangolin @luminousbeings-crudematter @abbsaura @moniheartz @tiredmetalenthusiast @cathnoneofyourbusiness @alittlefansthings @lumineyee @all-good-things-have-an-ending @mintttchi @whore4dilfs @unforgettabie

[theboysfromaustin]

Part 3 of Manchester

----

December 14, 2009

“Hey, Ian, you ran off!”

Kazuo caught up to Ian, who was standing in front of a grave.  Gav and Anders were a little behind with Maureen.  “Ian?” Kazuo looked to him.  Ian's whole body was shaking, tears streaming down his face.  He looked furious.  Kazuo followed his gaze, and froze.

Scrawled in bright red paint across Jeremy's headstone were the words FAGGOT LOVER.

“Hey…” Kazuo reached for him, but Ian knelt, furiously trying to wipe the hate away with his shirt sleeve, his body wracked with sobs.  “Too good…you were too good, Jezza…I'm gonna…” “Dad?” “Ian, honey…” “Maureen, we need to find a grounds-”

“Well, well, well.”

“Look at this.”

Ian stiffened, the hair on his arms and neck standing up.  “What do you make of this, Don?” “Well, Henry…We've got…” Ian stood, staring them down.  Don pointed at Ian, “A coward faggot who ran away.” At Gav, “A little ginger fag.” At Kazuo,  “A crippled freak fag.”  Ian grew more and more tense, stepping back.  At Anders,  “A disgusting faggot spawn.”  Ian's legs tensed, chest heaving, body shaking.  And finally at Maureen, “And a fucking ni-”

Silently, Ian charged forward, letting the hill build his speed, barreling into Don mid-slur, driving him into the ground with a flurry of punches.  There was nothing in his eyes except for blind rage.  Henry jumped Ian, one arm around his neck, trying to choke him, “You stupid fucking poof!  Get off him!”

Kazuo screamed, lunging towards them, and in a move of pure fury, wrenched his leg off and slammed it into Henry's face.  Henry yelped, letting go of Ian, but now he had to contend with Kazuo.  “I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!  DON'T FUCKING TOUCH MY MAN!  DON'T FUCKING SPEAK ILL OF MY FAMILY!  FUCK!  YOU!” Another blow to the face, and Kazuo was spattered with blood.  “Kaz!” Gav grabbed him, “Don't kill him!” “Why the fuck not?” “Ian can't represent you in the UK!  Speaking of…” “Dad!” Anders grabbed Ian, shaking him.

Maureen touched Ian's cheek, and he began to sob harder.  Don stared up at Ian, eyes wide.  He was afraid.  And he hated that this…fucking cocksucker made him feel that.  Nobody had ever attacked him.  Not since…His eyes narrowed.

Not since he and Henry had killed Jeremy.

Ian had never been the fighter of the group.  He'd always been the first to cry.  And now he was crying, staring down at Don with the purest hate.   Almost like he knew.

“Been a while,” Don smirked. “Why are you still alive?” Ian's voice dripped with venom.  “I could ask you the same,” Don drew his head back, and spit in Ian's face.

That shattered the last fragment of restraint in Ian.

In a move that previously only Gav - well, maybe Kazuo - would have considered, Ian lunged forward, sinking his teeth into Don's ear, twisting and pulling.  Everyone froze.  Ian had gone completely feral, acting out in pure, animalistic rage.  Don shrieked, trying to pull away.  Henry swore, backing up.  They should have brought their sons, but they hadn't expected to find Ian and his family.

“Henry!  Help me!  He's trying to rip my ear off, I'm gonna get AIDS from this goddamn homo!” Ian's chest was heaving, and he slammed his palm into Don's forehead, immobilizing him.  Around a mouthful of ear, Ian hissed, “I know what you did to Jeremy.” Don's eyes darted back and forth, “W-what are you…?” “You gave yourself away.  Killers like to visit their victims.  You forgot…” He dug his teeth in, “I'm a lawyer.  I've been at it for forty years.  And I'm a lot fucking smarter than you.”

Gav had run off to find a groundskeeper, and was returning, “Ian!” “Shit!” Henry took off, abandoning Don.  Kazuo lunged for him, forgetting he’d removed his leg, and fell, “Get back here!  I'll fucking kill you!”  Don squirmed, Ian still clamped down.  “What's going on here?” The groundskeeper, a middle-aged man looked confused.  Don took the opportunity to try and run, but fell, screeching as his ear separated from his head.

Ian spit out the ear remnants, Maureen helping him to his feet.  His face had gone from furious to pale and drawn, shaky, splashed in blood.  Anders had his knee on Don's back, “Dad?” Ian collapsed against Maureen, “They killed Jezza!  And so many others!  Test his DNA against every murdered gay man in Manchester!  Test Henry's!  You're gonna solve a lot of cold cases!”

Don looked terrified, “Ian….weren't we best friends…?” Ian looked away, eyes cold, “We're not kids anymore, Donnach.  Groundsman, please ring someone to deal with this garbage, and…please clean Jeremy's stone up there.  It was defaced by this bigot and his cohort.  He was my real friend, not you two.  I hope you fucking burn for what you did, and I hope prison treats you both as well as you've treated your victims.  My only regret is that I'm not licensed in the UK, and I can't rip you apart in court myself.”

The police came.

Ian was very subdued, shaking as he spoke.

After they left, he sat at Jeremy's stone, crying, all his anxiety leaving him, the weight off his shoulders.  Kazuo had wiped the blood from his face, speaking softly to him.  Gav and Anders had gone to find drinks and food, everyone settling in.

Ian was at peace for the first time in months.

[ginkgomoon]

Gavin and MC’s High School History- Detailed Timeline

Dedicated to my amazing and kind friend @cheri-cheri- one of the Queens of the MLQC fandom on Tumblr! I literally didn’t know how to use it before but I had learnt how in order to keep up with her posts. Without her work, I literally wouldn’t be on here making my own blog either. Thank you, Cheri!!

This is a timeline following the years of high school that MC and Gavin had together. Compiled of dates, rumours and secrets, calls, texts, and other from multiple servers. The source will be shown allocated to its corresponding sentence. I created this because I was really moved when I rewatched Gavin’s Old Days Date and suddenly thought of the many things other players could have missed out on regarding their high school years. If there is anything you need clarification on, or if you would like to add anything in, feel free to send a post/ask or just comment and I’ll try to incorporate and adjust accordingly! 

Based off of true correspondence of the Chinese education system in Shanghai, where the schools there are very strict, with specific responsibilities and events students must have and attend to. In addition, this is different from Western school systems where years 7-9 are in a seperate schools from years 10-12 before university. Dates and seasons mentioned will also be noted as accurately as possible to suit the Loveland storyline in which different events occurred. I felt like a detective trying to piece a fractured storyline together to solve a mystery, honestly...

Prepare your tissues, your milk tea and your soul because even I almost didn’t make it to publish this...

Timeline

2008

Gavin enters high school.

2009

MC and Minor enter high school. MC does her hair in a nice ponytail, one of the only hairstyles she ever had in school.

Gavin is a grade above her. He is in his last year of high school. [Spring Festival Date]

Late Autumn of October 2010

“I noticed who you were before you ever noticed me.” 

On a rainy first day of school, Gavin helps Mr Keller move the tables and chairs in the classroom. 

Without taking an umbrella, Gavin leaves. 

At the same time, MC saves a cat in the rain with her handkerchief, attempting to shield it from the incoming rain under a roof. She gives it snacks from her bag while sheltering it from the rain. 

Gavin thinks she was nerdy-looking, but couldn't take his eyes off her and watches her from a distance for a long time. He feels out of place standing.

She looks back at him in astonishment, not knowing how long he stood for. 

She smiles at Gavin.

Gavin notes that MC’s smile just like her eyes, were pure and comforting as they start filling his vision. 

The rain starts to get heavier and MC shivers. 

Something stirred in Gavin’s heart as he notices this, and kicks a can in frustration then shelters her with his jacket. 

He runs away as MC shouts, “thank you!” 

She didn’t know it was Gavin who gave her his jacket at the time.

MC goes back and is then told by her fellow classmates that the boy she encountered was the “tyrant school bully”,  and “the Underworld Senior Gavin”, and that she should stay away from him. [Tilted Time- Rumours and Secrets]

-

MC finds piano dull to play the same songs over and over again.

MC in her spare time practices and sings to Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3 (Love Dream) for a talent show.

At the rooftop, Gavin is wounded by a gangster’s knife. A gradually intensifying melody is heard. 

Gavin kicks the gangster boss but then is pursued again. Outnumbered, wounded and losing consciousness due to major blood loss, the gangster boss kicks Gavin off the roof. 

Gavin reaches out, to something- anything. 

A heavy, surging melody sounded, transcending through time and allows Gavin to reflect on his past- to his father, to his late mother, and invokes deep reflection and epiphanies. 

Heavy notes seep into Gavin’s ears as he almost hits rock bottom. He feels his limbs emerging with the wind and awakens his wind evol. 

Gavin is now reborn.

The music continued to play. Gavin ends up humming with a bird. 

He then hears MC’s singing.

MC stops, mesmerised by the ginkgo leaves flying through the wind. The ginkgo leaves falling was her favourite time of the year in high school. This vivid sight is still engraved in her memory after many years.

Gavin vows to protect her for the rest of his life. [Campus Date]

-

Gavin saved Minor from bullies. 

Minor also happens to be MC’s outgoing, talkative desk mate who sometimes helped old ladies cross the street. How he managed to hang around Gavin and not get beaten up, nobody knew (except us). He would often copy MC’s homework but never dragged her down with him if he got caught. This was MC’s biggest impression of him. 

During science class, MC cooked noodles for Minor on the Bunsen burner when he was hungry. The recipe was Shrimp flavoured instant noodles, mix two eggs in well, then add a dab of sea salt and black pepper. [S1 Chapter 7-1]

-

Gavin is always at the school gates at 7:30am. Carrying his flat school bag, he orders fish balls at the snack kiosk on the north side of the school. It was the third day in a row that Minor notices this. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin would occasionally travel around on his bicycle. (Pre-debut Sparky??) He says he was good at riding it. [Lost Love Date]

It was hard to find Gavin as he’s rarely at school, so she didn’t see him until 3 days later when MC went to the library at sunset. 

She tries to retrieve “Byron’s Poetry Collection” from the top of a 2-metre shelf, and since Gavin was a head taller, he was able to help her get it. 

He musters up the introduction that he recited many times- but MC quickly thanks him and leaves before he could speak.

Minor notices Gavin watching after MC and that he was SMIL-ING. 

He helps him locate MC and reports that every day after school she would go to the library for afternoon revision, always sitting in the same seat. 

Gavin sat at a corner not far, quietly flipping through textbooks he hated. People who were reading in the library would be driven away because they were scared of him LOL

MC would then leave at 5pm sharp to go back home. 

Gavin commits to walking back 10 metres behind her with Minor every day on forward. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets] 

-

Gavin saves Minor from bullies again. Minor dedicates himself to be his “bro”. 

He finds out that MC is an honours student, but doesn’t know that she’s the school orchestra leader. [Mystery Wings Event] and [Mark Date] However, he does know that she’s renowned as the “campus belle/ school flower”.

Minor idly mentions that more people were giving MC love letters.

Gavin tells Minor to collect all the people who were planning to confess their love to MC. Minor doesn’t want to be wingman anymore HAHA

Gavin stared those boys down as they trembled with fear. He tells them to take them back and if they scare her, he’ll make them regret it. 

Minor realises Gavin’s feelings for MC. [Minor’s Memory Book] 

-

MC eats from a small stall outside the school gate selling red bean puffs. ($3 for one, $5 for two. What a deal!) 

She also encounters the stall that sells sugar figurines [Gift of Life- Sugar Figurine Call]

MC ate chocolate sticks often at school. It's also a memory of student life for Gavin, as well. [CN 2021 March Sign-In Taste of Happiness]

Students would scramble for the small swing set in the school garden. MC never went at lunch breaks, but she watches the sunset on it after school. Gavin is sometimes nearby. MC never noticed him, but she does however notice the ginkgo leaves dancing in the wind. [Mini House Small Happening- Leisure Time]

-

Gavin isn’t his usual self anymore. He sees MC out in the library everyday and starts reading “5 Years of College Examinations and 3 Years of Sample Questions” (book for colleague entrance examinations).

MC watches a basketball match at school. She calls someone from an away team “dashing” because they won with a dunk. This has been engraved in Gavin’s memory ever since. [Dreamers Date]

Gavin found out that he was very fond of basketball success stories, rushing into the court to try hundreds of shots after. He writes “I will beat you” beside Sakuragi Hanamichi from a Slam Dunk poster alongside “not a step back”.

(Slam Dunk starts out with a boy wanting to play basketball to impress his crush.)

Gavin then injures his head badly :(

He realises that basketball couldn’t help him to protect anything he wanted. He determines that he will do whatever it takes (to “beat” himself”). [Mystery Wings Event]

-

Gavin leans against a tree as he watches MC hurry down the corridor as she clutches a textbook. [Boundary Rumours and Secrets]

MC would eat pocky. Gavin would eat them too. [2021 March Sign-In Moments]

- 

MC faints during a sports meet because she didn’t eat breakfast.

Gavin hurries to carry her to the infirmary. [CN Delightful Search Date]

He leaves bread and milk before she wakes up.

-

MC is on duty during PE class, which happens to be on basketball. 

Minor was careless about his aim and the ball almost hit her in the head. Gavin slams the ball away. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Gavin glares at Minor as MC thanks him.

Minor also “accidentally” pushes MC towards him.

Gavin glares again.

Gavin later is continuously shooting hoops. 

MC returns late at night to clean up the gym but all had been returned neatly in the basket. MC wanted to thank him but couldn’t. [CN Basketball Court Date]

-

There was a school sports competition that they attended. Gavin participated in the 10 lap race and came first by an impressive large measure. [Minor’s Memory Book]

MC participates in the sprint race, too. Gavin is worried about her performance, and if she would faint again. 

Gavin requests Minor to take a photo of her on his phone (which probably ended up as the photo that he carried with him in his early days at special training where the other men teased him about hiding a photo of a girl.) 

Approaching the End of October 

Gavin, Minor and MC are walking home. 

The weather is cold, and Gavin notices MC shivering in the distance. Gavin, conflicted by this, tells Minor to buy MC a hot drink without telling her that it was from him. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets] 

MC would occasionally spot a hot drink or a carton of strawberry milk in the piano room. [Chapter 31-12]

-

Gavin one day is conflicted by their early exchange, recalling how MC looks startled at the entrance of the library after seeing each other. His spirit depletes, kicking himself (metaphorically) in the corner of the classroom at how he might have scared her. 

Minor rushes in with a pink bandaid from MC for the wound at his mouth. 

He carefully took that bandaid, treating it as if it was his world’s most precious treasure.

This pink bandaid was always taped on his heart and whenever he stepped into the swamp-like darkness of the night, it gave off a faint warmth. [Mystery Wings Event]

-

MC starts to notice Gavin everywhere. At the corners of windows, she would see his figure. At the library, he would help her retrieve books from higher places. She would also see books laid out on his table, but most of the time he would be sleeping. Beneath his overlapping arms, he sees “Byron’s Poetry Collection”. Gavin doesn’t understand the poems, though. 

Lord Byron's "Don Juan" - Canto the Ninth, XVI 

"To be, or not to be?" — Ere I decide I should be glad to know that which is being? 'Tis true — we speculate both far and wide, And deem, because we see, we are all-seeing; For my part, I'll enlist on neither side Until I see both sides for once agreeing; For me, I sometimes think that Life is Death,

-

At the music rehearsal room on the fifth floor, she would see a corner of his shirt in the wind. 

MC thinks Gavin is friendly and slowly lets down her guard. 

At the canteen, he would offer her the last bottle of water. 

She begins smiling at him when they see each other, with the small arcs forming on her lips, soon becoming smiles that made her eyes squint.

-

MC would walk along the Senior hallways and subconsciously stop at a certain classroom- catching the sight of Gavin sleeping. On one particular day, she sees him standing by the window, staring at the sky. 

-

Minor asks Gavin if he could form a band with him. Gavin rejects him. He then asks Gavin if he wanted to join the school’s singing competition. Gavin rejects him again, saying that he didn’t perform for unimportant people or have others tell him how well he could play.

MC plays “Falling Slowly” on the piano. Gavin hearing this, learns to play the guitar. He doesn’t know the name of the song but familiarises himself with the melody. [CN Music and the Past Call]

-

Whenever school let students out early, she would go to Lynn’s Kitchen. MC gets her noodles with clear broth, chopped scallions and a half-boiled egg. Gavin usually gets his spicy noodles with garlic, cilantro, thinly sliced beef.

Gavin remembers her favourite order. 

MC leaves a post-it note at Lynn’s Kitchen, “I might never see you again and I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I miss you”, about a friend who transferred schools. 

Gavin knows she hates people who leave without saying goodbye the most.

Gavin, also in the vicinity near Lynn’s Kitchen, writes a post note.  “Until I met you.” [Mystery Box Game]

He saves Mr Noah’s son from an accident, immediately takes him to the hospital and pays for the medical fees. [Anime]

-

Gavin dismisses rumours of high school romance. 

“If you confessed on the 7th step of the stairway in the corner of the 3rd floor then it’ll succeed, or if you carved your name and another person’s name on the 6th tree in the courtyard at the back then your misunderstandings will be resolved, or if a guy gave the girl he liked the second button of his uniform on graduation day then the two of them will end up happy together.”

At lunch, he hears MC talking about the second button, and upon seeing her yearning face, he raises his head in thought, suddenly couldn’t wait for graduation. He tears off his second button. [Mystery Wings Event]

Gavin is just in love at this point.

-

Gavin sees one of the top students stealing money from a shop outside of school. The shopkeeper doesn’t believe him. 

He stops the student on his way home to hand him back the money. 

MC sees him at the alley then leaves.

Gavin spent all the money on a walkman he wanted for a very long time.

Mr Keller was the only one who believed in him. He said to him, “Since you can’t change what others think of you, you might as well just listen to your heart.” This had a great impact on Gavin. [Campus Date] 

Winter 

In the snowfall, the school allowed additional ten minutes of break time. The class next to MC’s stuffed Minor’s shirt with snowballs.

Gavin thought of helping him with a counterattack but MC had already returned a snowball to the male student who pulled the prank. 

Gavin looks at MC the whole time. [CN Recovery ASMR]

-

MC overheads girls in her class say that Gavin had bullied students for lunch money that morning. 

MC rides her bike back home after studying at the library for her finals. 

MC sees Gavin being handed an envelope full of money at Lynn’s Kitchen in an alleyway. 

She mistook it for him taking protection money. 

-

Summer of June 2011

On a humid afternoon, MC looks outside the window of the classroom in boredom. A boy in a loose-fitting school uniform ran by. She couldn’t make out his face. [S1 Chapter 7-23]

MC begins to distance herself from Gavin. She rushes out of class and goes straight home instead.

Gavin is sad. He broods by the piano room, goes to the library to brood, then stares at the place MC sits to brood some more. 

Minor wonders how he’s able to stare all afternoon at an empty space in the library but sleeps all day during class hours. [Minor’s Memory Book]

Before graduation, Gavin’s father expresses his thoughts for Gavin to join the organisation for special training. Gavin refuses, but his father uses MC to influence him to agree. 

Gavin remembers the panic and timidity in MC’s eyes when she first met him. He recalls that moment was probably the hardest to bear in his life.

Gavin in his short period of freedom writes a letter to MC. He ponders about what to say, thinking about their first encounter, and how she started to distance herself from him. But all he writes is-  

“Saturday 9am, I will be at the school library waiting for you.

-Gavin.”

-

MC attends the flag-raising ceremony and rehearses her speech. She then leaves to study for her exams. 

Meanwhile, Gavin finishes a fight with other boys from school in an alley after they talk inappropriately about MC. [Old Days Date]

Gavin, bloodied and bruised, asks Minor to make another copy of his letter. 

This is the only thing that Gavin had asked Minor to do so of course, he agreed. [Chapter 7-11]

Minor thinks the letter is a symbol of passion and fierce love due to the bloodstains and decides to keep the original. 

He writes “GAVIN” and places it on MC’s desk for her to see the next day. 

(In the Campus Date, the older MC is the one who finds him instead of Minor and treats him to his injuries. She ends up seeing the contents of the letter to find him later on.)

MC mistakes the letter as a threat and throws it away. 

That Weekend

Gavin sits for 14 hours in the library waiting for MC, scanning the library every now and then.

With a fingertip, he rubs “Byron’s Poetry Collection” and carefully sandwiches a dried and yellowed ginkgo leaf into the book. He suddenly felt a measure of self-deprecation.

He stands up, and leaves, his heart filled with regret that he didn’t give it to her personally. [CN Tilted Time Rumours and Secrets]

After Summer Break- July 

Minor never saw Gavin, and neither did MC. 

“We met often, but never passed by each other. I remember every moment I saw you in school. Time, location, weather, your expression, your clothes...

-I remember them all.”

[jesse-eisenberg-interview]

Some Actors Work Both Sides of a Script

Jesse Eisenberg and Zoe Kazan

Credit...Robert Wright for The New York Times

By Jason Zinoman

Sept. 23, 2011

AT the end of a 90-minute conversation Jesse Eisenberg announced that what he really would like to do is write a musical. To which Zoe Kazan responded, “That’s the most impressive thing you’ve said this whole time.” Mr. Eisenberg answered back by listing other comments he had made. “Musical theater totally trumps that,” she retorted.

Ms. Kazan, 28, and Mr. Eisenberg, who will be 28 next month, trade barbs in a way that only people who run in the same circles would. These actors have known each other for years. They are both slightly built New Yorkers known for intelligent performances dramatizing eccentric anxiety. Mr. Eisenberg is more famous because of blockbuster movies like “The Social Network,” but Ms. Kazan has more experience onstage, starring most recently in the revival of “Angels in America.” But they both give the impression that they are younger than they are, of being indie even when acting in Hollywood or on Broadway. Now they have something else in common: They have each written a play that has a debut next month.

Ms. Kazan’s “We Live Here,” a dysfunctional-family drama set before a wedding, opens at Manhattan Theater Club on Oct. 12, the same day that Mr. Eisenberg’s “Asuncion” begins previews at the Cherry Lane Theater. Mr. Eisenberg stars in his comedy, a Rattlestick Playwrights Theater production, as a naïve blogger whose ideals clash with his life experience. On a recent morning they chatted with Jason Zinoman over coffee. These are excerpts from the conversation.

Q. It’s a cliché for actors to say, “I want to direct,” but less often do I hear them say, “I want to write a play.” Why did you do it?

ZOE KAZAN I always wrote. My parents are writers. It just seemed like something people did. I took a writing class in college, liked it, and my first year out of school I couldn’t get a job, so I wrote a play. I never wanted to be a playwright. I just didn’t say no to any of my interests. I don’t have any hobbies.

JESSE EISENBERG People ask me what my hobbies are in interviews, and I always say biking. But all I bike for is to get to rehearsal more quickly. I have no hobbies either.

KAZAN Way to go. I bet you and I would make fascinating dinner companions.

EISENBERG Pure narcissism. We could have separate dinners alone.

KAZAN I am my own wife.

Q. Jesse, tell me about your play.

EISENBERG It’s about a writer obsessed with big issues but who doesn’t do anything about them. I do what I like to do, explore parts of myself that I am embarrassed by. I grew up in an apolitical household. I never left the country. When I became an adult, I started traveling and became interested in politics, and I probably talked about things in a silly, ignorant way. So I explored this in myself and exaggerated it for comedic effect.

Q. How exaggerated is it? One of the main characters, the one played by you, gets mugged and then sympathizes with his attackers.

EISENBERG I was mugged one night in New York and slammed into a concrete pillar, and I did an interview where I said I completely understand why they attacked me. It was a poor, black neighborhood. Someone sent me an article saying: “You ignorant idiot. It’s more offensive to defend these people. It’s more racist to defend them.” He’s right, and that is the impetus for the first scene.

Q. Jesse’s play deals with a relationship between brothers, while yours is about an equally fraught sibling relationship.

KAZAN I have a sister who I am close to. I was interested in the idea of the sister relationship in general. I wrote a first draft in fall of 2009. MTC commissioned it, and they gave me some money. When I was acting in “A Behanding [in Spokane],” I was going in five hours early and working on it there.

Q. Did Martin McDonagh [the author of “Behanding’] give feedback?

KAZAN He read it.

EISENBERG [Imitating Mr. McDonagh] How come no one gets his head sawed off in this?

KAZAN You don’t know, Jesse, you haven’t read it.

EISENBERG Listen, I read the play, but I think you left out a page where someone gets his tongue cut out and stapled to his eye.

KAZAN I guess I don’t really seek notes from a broad range of people. It’s more like we were becoming friends, and I was going early and he was like: What are you doing?

Q. Jesse, who do you give work to?

EISENBERG If I think my play is bad, I’ll send it to my mother because she only gives me compliments. If I think it’s good, jeez, I don’t know. My mom calls me every 16 minutes, and she says: “That’s great sweetie. You’re my favorite child out of the three of you. Why are you not president?”

Q. Zoe, you grew up with two screenwriters as parents.

KAZAN My parents will sit down at the dining-room table and give notes on each other’s scripts. It’s the worst thing in the world. It’s like the house is burning down. It’s awful for my sister and me.

EISENBERG You should give your script to my mother. She would be real encouraging.

KAZAN I would love that. Then maybe I would be her favorite child.

Q. Which is the biggest challenge for you as a writer: character, plot or language?

EISENBERG Aspects of each. It’s a cop-out of an answer. At each point I come to a problem with a plot point or character, it seems insurmountable. Or is it unsurmountable? Not to be surmounted? So language is my answer.

KAZAN I think action should be revealed through character, so if you have a plot problem, it’s probably a character problem. It’s fun and easy to write language, but there were things I loved that I had to get rid of because they are no longer carrying their weight.

Q. Does the fact you are actors have any impact on the amount of trust you have that your cast will find the right subtext in your lines?

KAZAN My rewriting process has been a lot about taking away the explicit and letting the subtext speak for itself. Sam [Gold, who is directing the play] is pushing me to be brave in pursuit of that. I think it’s hard for an actor.

Q. One thing that struck me about both your plays is that in an age when plays are becoming more cinematic in structure, yours are not.

KAZAN We both work in film, so if we are going to write a play, why not write a play?

EISENBERG There’s something strange about theater. My characters consistently demonize elitism, but of course it’s taking place in a theater where only so many people can see it. I’ve been in silly popcorn movies — the kind of thing that as an actor you might feel embarrassed about — but those movies reach many more people. In a play you’re basically performing for rich people.

Q. Broadway was once the ultimate in success for a young dramatist. How do you think of it now?

KAZAN Broadway is different now than in our parents’ generation. The number of straight plays opening there now is so small compared to the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s. I see many more plays Off Broadway by dint of ticket price and what’s being produced. If it costs more, it has to reach a larger audience. That’s why there aren’t more risky plays on Broadway.

EISENBERG I don’t consider Broadway for us — as theatergoers. I never even consider going there to see something.

KAZAN I want to see “Book of Mormon,” but for $400? Look, [turning to Mr. Eisenberg] for 60 bucks, 65 bucks I can see your play, right?

EISENBERG $75, actually. Listen I know someone who can get you in.

KAZAN $75? I’m not going to see your play.

EISENBERG Hey, I was in a zombie movie.

Q. Zoe, you also wrote a movie called “He Loves Me” that is supposed to come out next year. What is it about?

KAZAN It’s a magic realist romantic comedy. Paul [Dano, who is her boyfriend] plays a Jonathan Safran Foer-type writer who has writer’s block. He has one big novel and can’t follow it up. He starts to dream about this girl and then magical high jinks ensue. But it’s rooted in reality and comes from my experience. I was in relationships in my late teens with much older men and always felt like a piece of clay. But when I got older, I wasn’t so fluid as a person anymore. My relationships got better but harder. I wanted to write about that.

Q. Jesse, you just finished shooting a Woody Allen movie currently titled “The Bop Decameron.” Why do actors always adopt his mannerisms when starring in his films? Is it because his humor is so influential or is it in the cadences of the lines?

EISENBERG Those two plus a third reason, which is that after each take, he’s giving you notes and his voice is so iconic and funny and specific. Its impossible not to [imitate it]. You also want to indulge fully in being in a Woody Allen movie. He would say, “Don’t be hamstrung by dialogue and say whatever you want.” And I just end up making his jokes. At one point I realized after I did a scene that I made a joke from “Manhattan.”

KAZAN Steal from the best, man.

EISENBERG Just not in front of him. Go down the block first.

SOURCE

[fahye]

Okay so I recently read your amazing Alice 2009 fic, Phantomwise, and was hoping you could expand upon the scenes with Hatter and the kaleidoscope/“strong right arms” discourse that happened when they were in the mirrors. There’s clearly some cleverly thought up Hatter backstory here, and I think I get it, but I’m not sure...

oh my god. anon. this just body-slammed me with a plank made of pure artisan nostalgia. holy shit.

RIGHT. acknowledging that it's been 893575229 years since I both watched the Syfy Alice miniseries (a banger, everyone; I recommend it) and wrote that fic, and so can't QUITE recall which bits of backstory were actually hinted at in the show and which I wholesale invented after a lighting-speed reread of the book Through the Looking Glass:

the backstory is that Hatter and March were both relatively normal young men who held a role called King's Messenger, somewhere between enforcer and spy, back when there was a Red King. (I am almost sure this is loosely based on a scene in TtLG, including the line "one to come, and one to go".) the fact that they acted as the king's "strong right arms" became a literalised metaphor, so March at least has incredible strength in that arm. thus the scene where he hauls Dee out of the mirror.

during the war, they got trapped together in the weaver's gate (which I invented) and some kind of Wonderland bullshit happened and affected their minds. I really didn't conceptualise it any more than that; I think subtle horror works better when the audience has to fill in the gaps for themselves.

(for anyone curious, THE FIC IN QUESTION)

[antigonick]

Masquerade

DISCLAIMER : Of course everything belongs to Malin Rydén and Fallen Hero. WHAT TO EXPECT : Yup, back on my bullshit. Sidestep’s shows their face in this one (more or less). I’ve just been toying with this idea for ages so it was time to let it go. An excuse to play with masks and dynamics (and ignore my real-life responsibilities for two hours).

2009.

When you SLAM him into the ground with a cry of triumph oh you feel the skittering urge to crack his skull against the asphalt. There. Just a second. Victory will do that to you—a flash of heat from your brain down to your fingertips. A moment of violence, pure and unaltered, before you remember that you prefer his lovely head protected and intact.

“You’re shit at this, old man,” you croak.

Under your thighs he shifts, laughing, but doesn’t escape. Sparring has been good to you tonight. You’ve thrown him at your feet twice in a row, nipped one of his ridiculous stunt in the bud with a well-placed leg, painted his eye blue with a stroke of the elbow. You shouldn’t be this proud, but here it is. Looks like the balance is shifting at last. Looks like Ricardo is slowing down. Looks like you’ve gotten good.

“I know, I’m so off my game today,” he acknowledges, vaguely abashed, mostly petulant. How he manages to dust a dash of cheekiness in that loser’s whine, you don’t know.

You jump to your feet before his hands fall on your legs and jump about, stretch your arms, avert your eyes. You don’t need that, don’t need that at all, though the mask would hide the blush, and the suit cover the goosebumps. The vacant lot is deserted, glowing grey and purple in the moon-smog, and against the night Ortega glows like lightning. Nonchalantly he dusts himself and spreads his arms, a blue taunt to your simmering offensive.

“Rematch?”

Continued here.

[laszlowrobinson]

A playlist that your character would actually listen to

It didn’t say to describe why they would listen to these songs, but I did it anyway because while idk anything about music I like to rave about it lmao

Spice Up Your Life - Spice Girls 

I mean the Spice Girls were and still are iconic spelled to sound like eye-con-eek. They were a good chunk of his childhood to adolescence since they WERE the 90′s. So not only is their music just, you know, great, it holds a very nostalgic place in his heart. I mean he for sure watched Spice World and didn’t give a single shit that it makes no sense. It didn’t need to, it was the Spice Girls hanging with aliens and chilling out on the bus in their iconic fashion. Anyone in that movie he will reference as their character from that instead of like oh Hugh Laurie from House MD? NO, it’s Hugh Laurie, Poritot from Spice World. Oh Stephen Fry? From Gosford Par? NO, it’s Stephen Fry, the Judge from Spice World. 

Anyways, while he would and does put their entire discography on, I’m putting this one in particular because it’s such a bop!! And their anthem. When the bitches were back for the 2012 Olympics, while they may have opened with Wannabe with choreography, (except Victoria who literally stood there Posing, the icon) they really went in with Spice Up Your Life okay, they rode around that stadium ON the cabs while singing it!!! It’s 100% the song that will pick him up off the floor. 

LA DI DA - EVERGLOW

What a song??? Holy SHIT. It may be only like a month old in its life span but it Hits, so it gets a spot on this playlist because as soon as I heard it I was like, “Laszlo would be obsessed.” It’s a bop, it’s a jam, it’s everything he could ever ask for in a song. First off, the production on it is just so good!!! The beats HIT and the clapping behind their vocals picks it up to another level. And that part where they like lmfao aggressively grunt?? after “Everglow forever let’s go.” amazing, brilliant, stunning, absolutely the best thing he has ever heard before. And then the VOCALS!!! The talent!!!! Like the range between all the girls is astounding, and I don’t just mean their vocal range. I mean ALL of it, the singing, the rapping, the power and then pulling it back for the softness until they come back to make heads bop for the chorus. Whew!!! Just such a good, pump up song that he can bop around too and that’s his favorite kind of music!! 

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight) - ABBA but the Cher Cover 

No disrespect to ABBA because Laszlo loves them, but he looooves Cher and while he would ALSO play her entire discography, this song just hits different sung by Cher in 2018 in her beautiful, earthy voice. And she did it so tastefully. She respected the original song by not turning it over into something completely lost to the track but it still felt like she was putting her own magical Cher-y blessing upon it as if it were her very own song. It’s like the perfect crossover??? He probably had an out of body experience listening to her cover album of ABBA and then going to see her in Mama Mia! 2. Plus, like, this song is also his life lmfaooooo where is his man,,, @ god (who is Cher, as confirmed on Will and Grace.) 

I Know A Place - MUNA

Not only is this song just...so good...but the lyrics of it really hit home for him. Like??? “Don’t you be afraid of love and affection/ just lay down your weapon”??? ow bitch. But it is a celebratory song!!! It’s about being able to be whoever you are and not having to worry about getting hurt or dealing with the bleeeh people of the world because they’re going to a place that’s safe and accepting, and that’s in LGBT+ spaces. And there are a lot of people who don’t feel safe and who are having to hide themselves, but this song is providing them a little slice of heaven to be themselves. It also serves as a reminder that there are places were you can be safe and happy and yourself and you will be accepted!!! And that’s just such a lovely message, and for music like this to be out there in the world for the youth makes him so happy! And the music itself is so funky and absolutely something that one can dance to. It has those places that slow down...and then HIT for the bopping around for the hype of the chorus!! UGH! and Katie’s voice still being sort of haunting really just brings it on home. This song is so good!! Stream MUNA!!!!! 

Paparazzi - Lady Gaga (TW: fake blood from 3:20-end of the video) 

I’m linking the 2009 MTV performance because I’m going to say that this was his first exposure to Lady Gaga and holy shit was it life changing!!! This was everything. Like the performance art of it really came for his throat. Spoiler alert: when the blood started pouring from her chest and the crowd like gasped and groaned??? It was a Cultural Reset!! She was singing her heart out and going all out on that choreography. Her foot up on the piano as she slammed the keys??? The set design?? SO GOOD! And her dancers? Shout out to them, because damn they really did that. So, not only is the song amazing, he will always associate it with hearing it to this performance and it is still such a good song!!! The lyrics are insane. She did this when she was 23, only a year older than him, and boy did it light a fire under his ass. 

And it also serves to keep him humble lmfao. Even though he isn’t Famous famous like his other family members he does have his own little corner of fame and can’t be out here falling in love with the attention. 

Coisa Boa - Gloria Groove

Honestly, anything Gloria Groove puts out is pure gold to his ears. They don’t have to go as hard as they do, but they do it anyways! The really pronounced instrument that’s going on? Their singing??? Going from rapping to hitting that note at the end of “Quer papo de ousadia?” absolutely sends Laszlo off the rails. Like, there’s no other way to describe their style than Iconic. It’s fun and fighty and gah! So good!! Also it just being about getting the Squad and going ham is just, chef kisses. Again, his favorite songs are things that get him moving and grooving, and this ones ticks all the marks and so much more. One day they will release an album and on that day someone should check to make sure Laszlo is still alive. 

Toxic - Brittany Spears

I mean what is there to say. The song is iconic, it came out when he was like 17. It was everything and still holds up today. The production on it still just boggles the mind. That like eeeeee sound??? The spy music break in the middle of it?? And the video!!! Art. The fact that she did the back handspring during the laser bit really just made him go insane. Cultural reset from the pop queen of the time. Turned him into a bigger Britney fan. Everything about it is so good. Another nostalgic one, but !! it still holds up baby!! If this is played he is legally required to perform. 

El Mambo - Mon Laferte

Her voice is just?? out of this world. Laszlo is a huuuge fan of everything she puts out but this one really just took him out. Like she can hit some powerful vocals and that’s what the beginning seems like they’re counting up to, but when she came out of the gate just rapping about this guy who needs to get over himself, woooowie. And then she comes back for that mambo sound in the chorus and her beautiful voice going In, ugh. UGH. It’s so good!!! She is amazing and the instruments on this one really highlight that as well as making it groovy enough to dance around to as we say goodbye to toxic men and their overwhelming jealousy!!

Too Little Too Late - JoJo

I’m linking to the 2018 version because JoJo re-releasing all her music so that she can get the cash money from HER music is...stunning, amazing, love her and love that for her. This song was yet another cultural reset. And you know what, she just got better. Her vocals kick ass and the lyrics are still just as good as they were when they first came out. That high register run she does toward the end??? Okay?? go off!!! Another song about a wonderful lady kicking a man out of her life and becoming better for it. also she JUST came out with a Christmas album so go stream it. 

Endless - Frank Ocean

Now this is the whole album because, honestly, that’s how it’s supposed to be listened to. There’s also the visual element that you’re supposed to watch while listening, but since that’s like no where to be found since Mr. Ocean’s people snatched it all up from the internet unless you want to buy it off Apple, this is all we get to work with. Which is fine, honestly. ANYWAYS, this whole album is just so beautiful. And no one really knows the full story behind where it came from or why Mr. Ocean made it, and that’s a whole over layer as to why Laszlo adores it!! Not only is the music stunning but the mystery surrounding it gives him life. Frank Ocean is another artist that he could press random on the entire discography and be happy with whatever decided to play, but THIS album is his favorite from the man. It may seem like the outtakes from Blonde but to Laszlo, they all feel intentional. It’s like peaking into a sketchbook versus the novel of Blonde, and that appeals to him!! There is a certain effort that needs to be put in to listen to it by finding it. So it’s that little bit of extra artistry that makes this album hit different than the others, plus the songs, though some very VERY short, are all GREAT. Every song has this sort of improv feeling almost? but feel effortless like all his other music. Some of them are really short, just snip bits of a song, but they don’t feel that way with how they flow together and cut one another off and it’s just a weird entity of music that feels fleeting and yet...endless. 

[dippedanddripped]

When British tennis champion Fred Perry became the first player to win a career grand slam in 1935, he might have hoped his legacy would be defined by the stunning bit of history he made, still just 26 years old. It’s unlikely he could have predicted his name would be used in 2020 to uniform a far-right male militia jacked up on violence and misogyny. And yet, Proud Boys, an organisation allegedly founded as a joke by Gavin McInnes in the run-up the 2016 US election, has become instantly recognisable by its allegiance to Fred Perry’s black and yellow trim polo, forcing the brand to publicly distance itself and announce last week that it had withdrawn sales of the shirt in the US and Canada a year ago.

McInnes, 50, is the Scottish-Canadian co-founder of Vice Media, and lives in Brooklyn. He believes western culture is under siege and that feminism is a cancer. His group, much like an enraged Reddit sub-forum given vein-popping physical form, has been described as an alt-right fight club and hate group by Southern Poverty Law Centre (SPLC), as white supremacists by Joe Biden,and classified as an extremist group by the FBI – even though McInnes rejects the notion that Proud Boys are racists . It is not, by a long stretch, a good look for Fred Perry.

“It is incredibly frustrating that this group has appropriated our black and yellow twin-tipped shirt and subverted our laurel wreath to their own ends,” the company said on its website last week.

The statement added: “We are proud of its lineage and what the laurel wreath has represented for over 65 years: inclusivity, diversity and independence.” Fred Perry is unequivocal that it has “absolutely nothing” to do with Proud Boys and that “that association is something we must do our best to end”.

That embroidered circular flick, modelled on the original Wimbledon logo, has been adopted by many subcultures since the first polo was launched in 1952.

“It is easy for the piece to be taken up as uniform because it is designed to look like one. It is stern and sensible and needs a distinctive kind of look to pull it off. That look is not a very large and very aggressive and very pink man,” said fashion writer Tony Glenville.

In May, Fred Perry launched a new line with a publicity shoot featuring only models of colour. In pure Twitter bait, fury and counter-fury spewed online as some white customers claimed they would boycott the brand for “spreading diversity bollocks”. In a statement to Dazed and Confused magazine, Fred Perry replied: “We believe actions speak louder than words … Our real fans know what we stand for, and their response to this speaks volumes.”

It is not the first time the brand has been fashionable for groups on the fringes of society; part of the appeal of a neat, utilitarian Fred Perry polo is that it is subversively nonconformist. There is an ironic fashion joke at play: the aesthetic might look objectively square, but its spirit is rebellious.

Few brands have been tussled over as hard by competing subcultures. From tennis nuts to Jamaican rudeboys, skinheads, mods, ska-punks, indie kids and Camden popstars, all have done the Perry polo before Proud Boys came along. The brand has been worn by racist skinheads before McInnes’s lot and, despite its current wobble, is certain to be worn by music fans for some time still.

Amy Winehouse sported hers all over London and ended up collaborating with the brand in 2011 on a collection of Perry classics with Winehouse twists (collars turned up, sleeves capped in semi-sheer fabric). The line still sells well, particularly in the Far East. Damon Albarn, Britpop’s poster boy for the knitted cotton Perry pique shirt, was able to request a specific style of eight shirts which he wore for Blur’s reunion gigs in 2009.

Musicians have been essential to the brand’s credibility, be it the Specials and the Jam or Arctic Monkeys and Skepta. In a project for the brand’s 60th anniversary in 2012, Don Letts made a series of films tracing the line of cultural scenes and musical hierarchies that emerged in Britain since the teddy boys of the 1950s. Fashion was key, but it’s intriguing to see how little the look has shifted for Perryheads, whether they’re on scooters revving around Southend in the 60s or dancing at the 100 Club in the 90s.

Perry was the son of a textile factory worker born in Stockport. He first became a world table tennis champion at 19 before going on to win three consecutive Wimbledon titles. Despite his record-breaking success, he was treated with contempt by the elite who ran the sport in Britain. To Andrew Groves, professor of fashion design at Westminster University, it is this contrast between Perry’s underdog status and unquestionable personal glamour that has helped define the brand.

“The working-class authenticity of both Fred Perry the man and Fred Perry the brand allows it to resonate with each new generation,” he said. “Its no-nonsense design has enabled it to be reinterpreted by each emerging subculture in a way that gives it additional layered, and sometimes contradictory, meanings. Fred Perry was worn on the terraces at Chelsea but also in the gay bars on Old Compton Street; by skinheads at NF rallies but also by Jamaican rudeboys.”

Perry was a heartthrob: he dated Hollywood actresses, including Marlene Dietrich, and married four times. He moved to the US and took up citizenship there before launching his sportswear line with Australian footballer Tibby Wegner in the late 1940s. The company was kept in the family until Perry died in 1995, when it was bought by Japanese company Hit Union.

Groves believes the brand has been able to transcend each decade because of the way it has been reinterpreted by new fashion tribes. “It’s ironic therefore to see this particular shirt adopted by the Proud Boys,” he said, “given that within gay culture, a black polo shirt with yellow tipping on the collar usually signifies that the wearer is into watersports.”

What Fred Perry would think about all the symbolism at play on his bestselling shirts is another matter.

Style wars

New Balance In the early 00s, the athletics brand was adopted by neo-Nazi groups in Germany. The company clawed back credibility by sponsoring anti-racist music events.

Burberry The Burberry check, whether real or counterfeit, became so synonymous with football hooligans and thugs that in 2004, two Leicester pubs banned any customer from wearing the pattern. It was a long crawl back to its contemporary reinvention as a super luxury British brand.

Stone Island In the mid-1980s, the then obscure Italian sailing label became huge on the terraces with football casuals, who matched designer clothes with lairiness. The look went “weekend suburban dad” after some time, but the brand was given a surprising new twist when the rapper Drake began wearing it.

[jordanlahey]

“Wake Up.” (1)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader x Steve Harrington (Platonic!The Party x Reader)

Summary: Y/n woke up in the middle of the road, having no idea where she is. Once she finds out where or more importantly when she is she just wants to go home or at least she did. 

Warnings: language and alcohol 

Word Count: 2009

A/n: (W/Y/A/F - Where you are from)

Series Masterlist

*Your POV*

‘Come on, 10 minutes left please get a move on.’ I think to myself as I look between my work and the clock. It’s nearly summer vacation and i just want to get this shithole of a year finally over with, then I'll have one more year left before I can start thinking about colleges. I look back at my best friend and she is also thinking the same thing I am, I start tapping my pen against my desk waiting impatiently as I glance up at the clock. ‘3...2...1’ the bell rang and everyone sprung from their seats and threw their papers in the air. Classic. My friend grabbed me by my arm and we ran outside and started cheering. We walked passed all the students, some are crying others are excited. 

“You’re coming to the party tonight right?!” Chloe spoke as we left the school grounds, she loved a good party and its the first of summer vacation. 

“Of course but please don’t let Ryan dj, his music is utter shite.” You groan just thinking about it and Chloe laughs. 

“His music isn’t that bad, you just have different taste in music as him.” Chloe nudged you. “What are you going to wear?” 

“I was thinking a black t-shirt my red and black tennis skirt you know the one that’s kinda tartan like? And my black denim jacket that is a few sizes bigger than me.” I say and Chloe nods. Chloe and I have similar taste in outfits but we plan in advance so we don’t end up wearing the same things.

I get home and greet my mother and father then head up to my room to get ready. I showered and got my clothes on and the next thing was my hair, I decided to have it down and straight and my makeup. I will never understand why putting on makeup feels more like a chore than fun activity so I only do the basics, eyebrows, eyeshadow, liner,  lashes and i’m done pretty much. I have 2 hours to kill before I have to meet Chloe so I can binge watch my favourite series until then.  

*Different POV*

You felt your eyes start to get heavy and you still had an hour and a half till you had to leave and you were struggling to stay awake and by the time the next episode started you were out like a light.

You awoke feeling the cold nipping at your exposed skin and you instantly sat up realising you were outside. You look around at your surroundings and as far as you know you are outside on what looks like a back road in the pitch black it was a long ass road and had a lot of trees at each side it was kinda spooky. You started asking yourself how you got here cause you swore you went to sleep on your bed...Wait! you have a party to get to but you can’t get there when you have no fucking clue where you are. 

You stood up and flattened your skirt down and hugged your denim jacket to keep yourself warm then two bright lights were on you and a car was speeding towards you. You froze in fear then the car slammed on its breaks and honked at you then someone came out the car and stomped towards you. You stared at the car in front of you then someone had came out shouting. 

“What the fuck are you doing!? I could have ran you over!” they shouted, from what  you gathered it was a guy but he had long blonde hair and it was curly, he stomped towards you and his face came into focus. “Are you deaf or something!?” He yelled.

“Holy shit.”  You breathe as you at him, he was fucking gorgeous! His blue eyes were pretty to stare at and he had an amazing face. 

“Holy shit indeed. What the fuck were you doing on the fucking road!” Jesus does this guy ever stop shouting. 

“I would like to know that too. I was in my bed and I woke up lying on the ground.” You say looking around once again. “Can you tell me where the fuck I am.” 

“What are you? Stupid? Dunk? High?” He scoffed and he was starting to piss you off. 

“I’m not drunk yet, in fact I was supposed to be going to a party but I can't now can I? Now tell me where the fuck I am!” You yelled back at him and he smirked at you. HE FUCKING SMIRKED! Not going to lie it was damn sexy. 

“Hawkins, Indiana.” 

“Excuse me!? Is that even a real place?” You cross your arms glaring at him. 

“You tell me, cause that’s where we are.” He said in a calm tone now, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. 

“That can’t be right ‘cause I wasn’t here  when I went to sleep.” The guy is looked at you like you were out of your mind “What am I supposed to do now? I’m far away from home and I don’t know anyone here.” 

“Weren’t you on your way to a party?” the guy asked And you nodded. “Then get in the car.” he threw his cigarette down and headed to his car. 

“Why?” 

“We’re going to a party.”

“I don’t go anywhere with strangers especially when they nearly run me over.” You spat and he sighed in annoyance. 

“Billy, Billy Hargrove and you were standing in the middle of the road Sweet cheeks.” Billy opens his car door. “Now get your ass in the car or I’ll leave you here.” You weighed your options, get in the car with Billy and possibly get murdered or be left on your own and...get murdered. You choose to go with billy and he smiles to himself and speeds off down the street.

You didn’t speak to each other, the only thing that broke the silence was the music and You were surprised that it wasn’t fucking rap music cause it’s shit. You quietly sang along to ‘You shook me all night long.’ By AC/DC. You could see Billy occasionally looking over at you then you stopped singing along out of pure embarrassment.

“What party are you taking me to?” You ask finally, You guaranteed that you won’t know anyone there anyway.

“A douchebag called Steve’s party.” He huffs, you can already tell that he doesn’t like this Steve guy. 

“Y/n.” You say, Billy looks at you puzzlingly. “My name is Y/n” 

“Sweet cheeks suits you better.” He says with a smirk. 

Billy pulled up at a house and got out the car and you followed suit and had a closer look at Billy he wore a red shirt that wasn’t buttoned up all the way, a black leather jacket and blue jeans. 

“You better stick by me cause no doubt you’ll get lost in here.” Billy looked you up and down smiling to himself. 

“What’s the ish?” You grumbled at him. 

“What you’re wearing. You’re bound to get everyone’s attention.” He lit another cigarette. “I’ve never seen a girl wear what you are wearing.” 

“Really? Everyone I know wears something similar.” And looked down at your clothes and followed Billy into the house and you looked at everyone. What the fuck are they wearing it was like you were in some 80’s movie. 

You stayed behind Billy as he maneuvered through the crowd of people, you did get a few daggers from the girls and Wolf whistles from the guys and you were confused as hell even more now. Then you and Billy were stopped by a guy with a lot of freckles and a girl with red hair. 

“Whatcha got here, Hargrove.” Freckles says looking you up and down and you look at him with a bored expression. 

“Yeah Billy where’d you find her.” Red added. 

“On the road.” Billy said and you rolled your eyes.

“Way to make me sound like a fucking prostitute, dick.” You glared at Billy. 

“Is she good at giving head? Or a good lay in general.” Freckles laughs. 

“You pervert and take that back or I’ll kick your ass.” You spat and you heard a bunch of ‘oohs’ fill the room.

“She’s got a foul mouth on her don’t she.” You scoffed and laughed to yourself. “What else does it do.” He looks down and you and you smirk.

“Talks shit about everyone and anyone.” You say in a bored manner. 

“I like this one-” you walked away from Freckles and Red they were getting boring. “Hey I was talking to you!” Freckles shouted. 

“Oh were you? Sorry you were boring me to death and my survival instincts kicked in.” You shrugged and went to find the kitchen. Billy looked at Tommy and Carol and laughed, he was starting to like you already. 

You finally found the kitchen and there were a few people in here you tapped a guy on the shoulder and he also looked pretty handsome. ‘Damn if guys here look like this I don’t wanna leave.’

“Hey where can I get a drink around here?” You asked.

“Here you go.” He handed you a bottle of beer and he looked for a bottle opener.

“Don’t worry I got it.” You used the ring on your finger as a makeshift bottle opener and it popped off without any problems and he looked amazed at you. 

“I haven’t seen you around, are you new?” He started to speak to you. 

“Something like that. I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand and he shook it.

“Steve Harrington. How did you get here?”

“Oh this is your party, uh billy took me.” You answer and he didn’t look impressed. 

“Your his latest fuck buddy aren’t you.” He wasn’t really asking a question. 

“Nope I’m not anybody’s hoe in fact I just met him legit not that long ago.” You sipped your drink calmly. Then an arm draped over your shoulder.

“Fuck off Harrington, she’s mine.” Speak of the devil here he is, You shrugged him off. 

“Oh am I? I didn’t realise excuse me while I got get your name tattooed on my forehead.” Looks like you were hiding behind sarcasm today. 

“Y/n where are you from?” Steve narrowed his eyes at Billy then softened them as he looked at you.

“I’m from (w/y/a/f)” You sip your drink and he nods. 

“What brings you to Hawkins?” 

“This was an accident. I don’t have a clue as to how I got here I fell asleep in my bed and then I woke up on the road and nearly died by this lunatic.” You point to Billy behind you and he looked offended.

“Your fault for being on the road.” 

“Well you shouldn’t be driving like a wanker then shouldn’t ya.” You raised your voice and soon the whole room was looking at you. “Sorry.” you went back to drinking your beer and everyone else went back to partying. 

“Y/n, this is Nancy and Johnathan, guys this is Y/n.” Steve greeted you to two more people and you waved at them awkwardly. 

“You really aren’t afraid to your mind are you, Y/n?” Nancy smiled at you, you kinda liked this girl she didn’t act like Red. 

“You know how everyone’s got that voice that keeps them from saying things they shouldn’t? Well I don’t have one of those so whatever comes out of my mouth will surprise me as much as it’ll surprise you.” I shrug. “Was this an 80’s themed party or something ‘cause y’all dressed like it.”  all four of them looked at each other then back at you. 

“Cause it is? It’s 1984.” Nancy spoke, furrowing her brows. You laughed and shook your head. 

“No, it’s 2019.” and they all shook their heads and pointed to the calendar on the kitchen wall and your jaw hit the floor. “How the fuck did I get here then.?” 

[prorevenge]

The puppet is now the puppeteer.

I'm a fairly new to the whole posting on Reddit thing and have just made this alternative account to share my story. Sorry for any weird formatting, obligatory first-time-poster-long-time-lurker warning.

Also, a TL;DR at the bottom since this is gonna be a long one.

​

The Context:

When I was four, my mother had just gotten with her new boyfriend. We'll call him B for Bastard. He seemed nice on the surface, he was an illegal immigrant that worked for a factory and lived in a ghetto apartment. But, just under his exterior was a cruel, evil monster that I knew was going to harm my mother and I in some way or another.

Soon after meeting B, my mother and him bought a house under my grandfather's name since they both had poor credit and wanted me in a good school system. We move in fast and get a little dog just before Christmas; we looked like a modern Hallmark family with the kid and the dog and the happy couple.

That is, until B's vibe changed.

He started to look at me in ways that made me uncomfortable. I wanted to tell my mom, but she was a firm believer in the "innocent until proven guilty" idea and I thought she wouldn't believe me. He started exposing himself around me, encouraged me to join him, even touched me in ways I couldn't understand and hated. I was 6.

When I was 8, we began learning what sexual abuse was in households, and I put the pieces together quickly. I still thought that my mother wouldn't believe me, though, and I grew numb to the habitual abuse.

When I was 9, mom got pregnant with my sister. I was nervous and cried every night knowing that she wouldn't be safe from this horrible, gnarly bastard that my mother called her boyfriend.

B refused to pick up extra hours at work when money got tight, so my mom picked up a second job whilst pregnant and he stayed home to watch me. Things only got worse. Then, the physical abuse and extreme mental stress on my mother started around the fourth month. We lost my sister on Christmas Eve, 2009, to a placenta abruption brought on by stress.

I'll never forget the sight of my mother in her dark hospital room. Sitting in her rocking chair. Empty. Lost. Numb.

B turned to me to let his frustrations out, both sexually and physically.

Mom was blissfully unaware as her daughter went into a downward spiral at the age of 11 and developed a phobia of boys even looking at her the wrong way. I made friends with all the weird kids at school, cut my hair, dressed in all black, started picking fights, got bullied for never speaking to anyone outside my tiny circle, and resented her and her precious B. She loved him despite all the abuse, or more so she was scared to leave him for fear of what he might do to her. If only she knew half the shit he did to her daughter.

In 2012, Mom became pregnant again. On October 22, 2012, my brother was born. From the videos I'd been introduced to by B, I knew my brother wasn't going to be safe, either. He swung both ways.

I became fiercely protective of my mother and brother. At the age of 12, I carried around heavy objects and hid them in my room in case he ever tried anything. Sadly, I was a 100 lbs. girl with the upper body strength of a toddler, and he was a fully grown "man" that could easily hurtle me across the states. He also had a zero tolerance policy with my brother for the sole fact that he was a boy.

My brother was born premature and would need the extra help to catch up. This didn't stop his father from beating him when he cried, yelling at him when he played with his toys, reprimanded him for using his left hand more than his right.

He was only 2.

And don't even get me started on when my brother played with the dog.

The dog, J, was starting to come to old age. She was crotchety and didn't like having her hair, ears, or tail pulled. Brother did this on accident one time, and this led to him getting the beating of a lifetime that left him almost mentally retarded, had it persisted. Ironic, too, because B didn't even like the dog. At this point, he was just looking for excuses to control and beat us whenever he could.

Behind the scenes, he also manipulated and threatened my mother. He had control of the bank accounts, health insurance, social security info, all sorts of papers that he could do with what he pleased. Mom, Brother, and I were puppets on strings in this sick household.

Then there was that sunny summer day.

They had gotten into a fight over who even remembers now, and I hear my door slam and lock. "I'm taking this kid with me back to Portugal, and you can't do anything about it, you stupid bitch." Oh, no. Not on my watch. In hysterics, I called the police and alerted them that my mom's now-husband was trying to kidnap my brother, said he was going to bring him back to Portugal and that we would never see him again. They came in an instant, and I jumped out the window to meet with them. My mother, grandmother, and brother had already been pulled from the house. Mom was still in hysterics, clutching her baby. I told the cops my side of things, despite my mother pleading for me to shut up and that everything was fine. Things clearly weren't fine, but when the police took B's testimony, he simply pleaded that he was just trying to take Brandon for a walk.

B was left off with a warning.

I couldn't take it anymore.

​

This is where the fun begins.

​

When I was 14, I had a breakdown in front of my mom and told her everything. And I mean, everything. She called him and told him what he told me. He came home immediately, and I could see the fire in her eyes. Sadly, he had more control over him than I thought, for she took his side by brute force and I was silenced. However, now I had the upper hand. I had used my voice to speak, and I could use it again. He became more complacent with me, but not towards my mother and brother. Nonetheless, I used this to my advantage.

With age, I learned how to channel the silver tongue that my birth dad had gifted me with. I told my mother as subtly as possible to watch her husband, for he could molest Brother the same way he did to me. Or even better, he could forget about his family entirely and run off with another woman. Anything went with B. She slowly fell under my word, and the traps laid themselves out without me even having to lift a finger.

​

When I was 17, B began a new habit of going to the gym.

In his work clothes.

I'm sure you could already see where this was going.

Mother swore to me that after my senior year she would be divorcing this bastardly, sorry excuse for a man. However, I influenced her to keep her eyes open and her peripheral vision even more open. This is how she found the odd charges on her bank statements to numerous bars and hotels for hundreds of dollars. She noticed one singular pattern in the paper bank statements that were sent to us every month (usually B would rip them up right in front of her and told her not to look at them, but this time she got her hands on a duplicate that had been sent to us on request). A hotel near where B worked, along with a bar that was located close to the hotel. He was too full of himself to take her to a hotel, even saying that he wouldn't want to waste a single week of his life in a cramped hotel room with his fat bitch of a wife.

Using the hotel's name, my mother looked it up and began her detective work. She called them one day whilst at work.

​

"Hi, is this (XXX) Hotel?"

-"Yes, how can I help you?"

"I just wanted to confirm my reservation, it's under '(B)'."

-"One moment, please! ... Alright, yes, you have reservations for the deluxe suite for June XX to June XXX. Anything else I can help you with?"

"Nothing at all, thank you!"

She was seething with pure, unadulterated rage. Turns out he was cheating on her with a husband and wife that he worked with.

She left work early to get me and Brother from our grandparents' house, and she told me everything in hushed tones so that Brother couldn't hear. I told her that I'd told her so, and that she did the right thing. That day, we packed up our shit and said good-bye to the haunted house that we'd lived in for so long. The perfectly manicured lawn and driveway, the white picket fence, and the beautiful shrubs were going to be a huge hit on the housing market.

He tried to hunt us down that day, but we hid out at a church that was far from the town that we had just resided in for 13 years of our lives. That summer, we lived with grandma and grandpa. That was the happiest and most free we'd all ever felt. Too bad J wasn't there to see it all, since we had been forced to put her down due to a severe heart murmur, but trucking her ashes around was enough for me.

That same year in October, we moved into a new house in the boondocks of my mother's old town and made it our own. B was left homeless, drinking himself to death because he had lost everything--his family, his wealth that poured in from my mother's significantly greater paycheck, the house, the luxury cars, the picture-perfect family that he kept on tight strings for far too long. He now resides with his second mistress, since none of his family or "friends" wanted to take his dog ass in. He lives in constant fear, too, because he knows what I did and he knows what he did. He knows that I can get him deported any day of the week, so he treads on egg shells and is as compliant with me as possible. I wish I could say the same with my mother, but I'm not afraid. I know where he lives, and since I've gotten back in contact with my father (he had been locked up for those 13 years due to evading child support and drug dealing), I've learned how to be the one with the leash. No more cowering in fear, thinking that one night he could go on a rampage and kill all of us. No more long nights of staying awake to make sure he didn't go into Brother's room to have his way with him. No more calling the police, manipulating, begging, and pleading with my mother to do the right thing. I have him on a short leash, and any day now I can turn out the real dogs on him: my own pent-up rage, and ICE.

​

Don't get me wrong, I actually quite hate my mother for more recent things she's been doing, however I'll give credit where it's due. I'm so proud of her for taking action after 13 years of being imprisoned by the man she was forced to call her husband.

​

TL;DR: Mom's ex husband controls myself, my mom, and my little brother for years. I gain some control, use it to convince my mom to look into his actions. She soon after leaves and divorces him, and she and I end up running his life back into the mud where it should've remained.

(source) story by (/u/CollegeAnon2022)

[evans-maxed-out]

Coup De Grace-Samcedes  Flashback Christmas 2009

Who:Sam Evans and Mercedes Jones

When: December 2009

Where: Mercedes Jones’ house

Note: Now in high school, Sam resolves to get closer to Mercedes. If he’s being slightly underhanded, well all’s fair in love and war, right?

Sam: He straightened his letterman jacket as he made his way to the front door of the modest looking house in front of him and bit his lip nervously.Courage Sam, he told himself firmly, she was only a girl, not even in his own peer group..but as much as he told himself that, his heart still pounded wildly at the thought of her. Had done really since elementary, but no matter how hard he tried to bridge the gap between them, nothing seemed to work. He was a jock-popular, the quarterback and captain of the football and basketball teams, from a wealthy background and surrounded by kids who came from the same sort of money and she was..Perfect.Pure perfection, in one sassy, hot as hell package. The cheerleaders might mock her for being a nerd but to Sam there was nothing sexier than a girl with both beauty and brains-and Mercedes Jones had both of those things in spades. Standing on the porch, he rang the bell, a slight smile gracing his features. "Hey Mercedes," he greeted her as the door swung open.

Mercedes sang along to the closing notes of Janelle Monae as she folded the last bit of her clothes. Her homework already done so she decided to use this free time to tidy up a bit so the rest of her week would be free in case she wanted to make plans. She placed her newly folded clothes in their proper place and giggled at her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. Her neatly fixed bun from earlier now taking on the role as a messy one probably a result of her dancing as she cleaned yet she kept about her business heading downstairs just as the doorbell rang. She didn’t check to see who was there just opened it and was met with a sheepish smile from Sam Evans. They didn’t exactly roll in the same cliques and although they didn’t openly despise one another it wasn’t all that spectacular either. They had what she liked to call a mutual respect of differences. She being far from the popular jock/cheerio crowd he was an elusive member of. She was smart enough to be considered a nerd but too headstrong to ever let those bullies at school try her. They knew better, so she kinda fit in the middle. However, here he was looking every bit as sexy as ever in her doorway. “Hi,” she greeted the boy in front of her, confusion etched on her face. “ What’s up?”

Sam: He stood for a second, speechless, completely poleaxed by how cute she looked with dark, glossy locks falling out of the bun her hair had been pulled into, before he relaxed into what he hoped was an adequate social smile. "I kinda need a favor Cedes.." the old nickname slipping out as he shifted unconsciously under her stare. "I want to go to medical school so I'm looking at majoring in Biology or Chemistry when I go to college..but with football and basketball and everything..I kinda got a bit behind..Mr Schuester said you tutor and I was wondering whether you have a spot free to tutor me..” He used his go to expression when he wanted something from someone, little boy lost mashed with a pleading look, hoping that she would never find out that in fact, far from needing tutoring, he was acing all his classes.He clenched his fist by his side, sending up a quick prayer to anyone that was listening that she'd help him. This was his shot with her, it was now or never because soon they'd graduate and the opportunity would be lost for good. "So..d'ya think you could help me out?"

Mercedes leaned against the frame of her door arms folded as she waited for the reason of why he was here. Her head tilting up a bit as she head the old nickname he used to call coming out and she was certain it was added for extra bribery. He hadn’t called her that in forever. He wasn’t slick nor cute. “A tutor? That’s why you’re here?” She questioned uncertain if she wanted to even entertain this favor of his. She was really good at all things Science. She knew Sam was smart in his own right and he wouldn’t be as demanding as the other students she tutored yet still she had her reservations. “What’s In it for me?” She asked. “If I do this favor how would you repay me?”

Sam: She was going to turn him down, dammit, he could read it in the cool assessing glance she flicked over his face and he wondered how the hell was he ever going to even get close to her. "Look..I came to you because you're the best..I mean there's always Kitty," he shrugged, knowing the rivalry that existed between the two, one from the popular, cool set and the other from the nerd side of the tracks. Sam didn't actually care for labels- from where he stood people were people and sexy was sexy and Mercedes Jones was the very definition of the word. "But I'd kinda prefer the best.." He frowned, biting his lips as he considered her words. "I..don't know..why don't you tell me what you want? But before you do..even if you don't decide to tutor me, would you like to go out with me some time? We could go to the movies..get pizza..whatever you want to do.." There. It was out, he'd asked her, the fifth time this year so far and he held his breath as he waited for her answer.

Mercedes had half a mind to slam the door shut in his face when he mentioned going to Kitty. He knew she hated that girl. Since elementary the rival between the two was one for the ages. “I am the best, that’s true.” Her hands unfolding as she decided to put him out of his misery and be decent enough to invite him in. “Come inside,” she gestured and stepped aside for him to enter. “Can’t have people seeing you on my porch and all begging as if you were that crazy Sue woman asking for spare change.” She shut the door behind him almost stopping in her tracks when he finished his sentence. Her eyes couldn’t have rolled any further in the back of her head. “Sam, we’ve been over this. Every month you come to me with a date invite and every month I say the same thing. We don’t mesh well. You’re just not my type.” Truthfully speaking Sam could totally be the type of guy she could date. He was smart, funny at moments, very nice looking, and when he wasn’t too busy playing the role of jock number 1 he was absolutely caring. Problem was she didn’t feel like going through the trouble of dealing with the stares of why? The hushed whispers of is he okay or did he lose some bet. Then the biggest factor was Kitty. Hell no was she about to let that stump get the satisfaction of torturing her about her relationship. “If you really need a tutor, I’ll consider it. If and only if you promise me two things. You can’t try to force me to fall for you and two, I want Reggie back.”

Sam: He couldn't help fist pumping the air behind her back as he followed her inside. This was the farthest he'd ever gotten with her, and it might seem like snatching at crumbs, but he was STOKED. He let out a frustrated sigh, as he heard her words, his hand running roughly through his hair. "How do you know we don't mesh well? You haven't even given me a chance!" he asked, beyond exasperated. "I ask you the same question every month like you said..and I know what you're thinking..that it's for some sort of bet like Jesse did to Rachel, but I'm telling you Mercedes if it was for a damn bet, I'd have given up months ago!" He scowled, green eyes clouded with jealousy as he muttered      "So who is your type huh? Artie? I know you're friends with him..He's one of my best friends too but HE doesn't judge me because I play sport..You see a jock and a nerd..I see two best friends...So c'mon Cedes..Is it Tinsley? You don't have a problem with him playing sports.." He took a breath and began to relax. Baby steps, Sam..she was agreeing to tutor him and he could work on it from there. At least it meant he'd be closer to her. Wait, what? She wanted Reggie back? The green croc had been with him for years ever since they'd drifted apart. "On the Reggie thing...deal.." he smirked, offering his hand to shake on it, caressing the back of her soft one with his hand. "As for the other.." he leaned closer until his mouth was a hair's breadth away from hers, "I can't promise that..No one can force you to fall in love Mercedes..maybe the one you should be telling that to is..you.." He brushed her lips gently with his for the space of a second before he pulled back and turned to leave.

Mercedes The way he went on in a jealous fit was kinda cute. Sam Evans was trouble. “You aren’t cruel enough to do some joke. It’s not that. How shallow do you think I am? That I judge base off social status? I don’t care. It’s just you’re sorta a friend. One of the decent guys and my dad likes you so that already puts you at a disadvantage.” She shrugged. She bit her lip to hide the pure happiness she felt when he agreed to return Reggie. She missed him. To some it might’ve been a silly little stuff crocodile but she had some great memories with him. “You can try as you like Sam but you know as well as anyone I’m very set in ways.” She lost her train of thought for a second when his lips touched hers. “Um, I’ve got more cleaning to do. I’ll see you tomorrow..” she hiccuped and followed him to the door.

[kyogos]

Best Wimbledon final?

Broke? 2008

Woke? 2009

2009 purely bc i love to get emotional about Andy Roddick and his lack of Grand Slams. That was his best chance at winning Wimbledon and I will only ever care about that final

[galhowell]

break up with your girlfriend, ‘cause i’m bored

Summary:   Phil's falling quickly for Dan. However, there's one small problem...

Or, the problem of Dan having a girlfriend

when Phil wants him more.a 2009 fic

Notes: I'm back with a fic set in 2009. With the recent lack of joint content, I had to go back to the good ol' days. Song used is 'break up with your girlfriend' by Ariana Grande. Please leave a like/comment if you enjoyed!You can find me on twitter @Gal_tic

(My ask box is always open on tumblr if you have any fic requests!)

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17844017

  You got me some type of way

  Ain't used to feelin' this way

  I do not know what to say

  But I know I shouldn't think about it

He and Dan had been talking now for approximately two months, and things had never been more unclear.

Of course, not that he had gone in knowing he would catch feelings for a boy who was in a committed, long term relationship.

However, that part hadn’t been clear until late one night on Skype, when Dan had been more open.

-

“Phil?”

“Yeah?” Phil had responded, not  looking up from where he had been fiddling aimlessly with a loose thread on his duvet.

“Have you...ever been in love?”

Looking up, Phil focused on the blurry form on his screen. A young, vulnerable boy who for some reason had wanted to talk to him practically every night since they had started talking. (Why exactly, he didn’t know. He wasn’t complaining, however.)

“Well….no, not properly anyway. Why?”

Watching as Dan laughed awkwardly on the other side of the screen, he tilted his head slightly.

“No reason. Just...have a lot going on lately I guess. Emily’s been wanting to spend more time with me, and I’m a grade A twat who can’t make time for her.”

As he had opened his mouth to respond, Dan had moved on rapidly.

“Whatever, yeah? Not your problem, I’m sorry. What were you saying again about the response to your latest video?”

-

  Then I realized she's right there

  And I'm at home like, "Damn, this ain't fair"

After this had happened, Phil had been unable to stop thinking about it. Why hadn’t Dan mentioned it to him sooner? It wasn’t as if they hide anything from each other…

On the other hand, part of him had believed that Dan had been flirting with him.

There had been moments that had seemed to go in that direction anyway. Comments over Skype calls, Twitter replies, Dailybooth comments. He hadn’t exactly been innocent, either…

Truth was, as it had always been, that he fancied Dan.

The first stage had been purely physical, of course. As shallow as it sounded. Dan was incredibly attractive, and one glance at his tanned skin, big brown eyes, and dimples had sent Phil into a spiral of stalking his social media profiles. After all, how could someone so attractive be interested in him? He had never felt particularly special, yet Dan’s comments on his Dailybooth photos had led him to become a blushing mess in his bed, hiding behind his pillow.

(Also, he hadn’t exactly gotten laid in a long time. Sure, there had been the rare fling in university. However, they had just led him to feeling grimy and alone the next morning. He knew Dan was good at sex. That much he had admitted in a Skype call, wine drunk and far too open for a boy who had called him his ‘idol.’ This had made him nervous, knowing how...behind he still was, in the sexual department. Picturing Dan in his bed, however, had caused his heart to beat out of his chest. That had been a new feeling.)

After having started talking to Dan, his feelings had only grown. He was funny, sarcastic, and incredibly sharp. Nothing got past him, and despite his usual tendencies of being the self-proclaimed ‘quiet friend,’ he had immediately felt safe expressing his true thoughts to Dan. Never before had he felt such a safety in expressing his opinions. In turn, he knew Dan felt comfortable telling him anything.

(Other than his girlfriend, apparently…)

Rolling over in bed, Phil huffed to himself as he reached over for his phone, groaning as he squinted due to the bright light the screen emitted.

Pulling open Dan’s Facebook profile, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty about wanting to scroll through his account for any pictures about a girl he knew nothing about.

It wasn’t like Dan ever had to know, right?

Of course, he found what he had been looking for. There, posted a few months prior, was a picture of Dan with a very pretty girl kissing his cheek.

Not bothering to read the cutesy caption, Phil locked his phone, tossing it to the end of his bed before pulling the covers up over his head.

  This shit always happens to me

  Why can't we just play for keeps?

  Practically on my knees

  But I know I shouldn't think about it

-

The next day, Phil mentally prepared himself as Dan’s profile photo popped up on his skype screen, requesting a call.

It was fine. Dan having a girlfriend was great for him, and he was...happy for them.

Dropping his forehead down to slam against his desk gently, he took a deep breath before lifting his head and pressing the green button.

As Dan popped up onto his screen, he couldn’t help the wide smile that crossed his face.

“Hey there.” He said, unable to help the rosy flush that crossed his face as he watched Dan smile, brushing his fringe back as it dropped into his eyes.

“Hey. Sorry I couldn’t talk the other night. Had to take Emily out.”

“That’s fine. I get it. I mean, she comes first, right?” Phil replied, inwardly cringing at himself as he filled the typical ‘lad’ role he had always desperately tried to fill with the guys who he had fancied in the past. With Dan, it hurt the most.

“Ha. Well. Not so much anymore. It’s over.”

Watching as Dan’s grin grew, Phil laughed a bit as he felt his shoulders relax. All of a sudden, he felt a push to be more vulnerable than he should be.

“Would you...want to come and stay over here sometime? Like...meet. In person.”

As he watched Dan’s eyes light up, he wondered, somewhere in the back of his mind, if they had been on the same page all along.

Time would only tell.

  Break up with your girlfriend

  Yeah, yeah, 'cause I'm bored

[missmelpcmene]

The Breaking Point —Chapter 5

Originally posted on Fanfiction.net in January of 2009.

DISCLAIMER: The places and characters featured hereinafter are the property of Warner Bros., Joel Shumacher, Janice Fischer, James Jeremias, and Jeffrey Boam and no attempt is being made by the author to claim ownership or profit from the use of the aforementioned characters. The views represented herein do not necessarily represent the views of the original authors and any character names or places mentioned in the original works belong to the copyright holders and are used in this story for nonprofit entertainment purposes by an amateur writer. The original characters used in this story are the creative property of Miss Melpomene and are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

"It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything. "

"Missy."

It's a funny thing, waking up the first morning in a new environment. There's that first moment after opening one's eyes, when nothing seems familiar, and one's first instinct is to panic. It is never a wise decision, naturally, to be the person standing over someone when that moment of overwhelming, sudden panic strikes.

The first thing that Missy was aware of after opening her eyes wasn't that her blanket seemed to have fallen or been ripped from her body in the middle of the night. It wasn't that Alan was standing, well, was doubled over, beside her bed. It wasn't even that Alan's lip seemed to be bleeding.

No, the first thing she noticed was that she was hungry. That painfully deep, gnawing variety of hungry that can only come from being too frightened to eat for a day and a half. It turned her insides so viciously that for a moment, Missy mistook the feeling, and feared she was about to be sick. "You kicked me!" Alan's hand appeared in her line of sight, and his finger waved in front of her face.

"You shouldn't have been standing over my bed." Missy said, but she grabbed the hem of the shirt she'd slept in and lifted it away from her stomach. "It's already stopping." She dabbed at his lip, frowning. "You're going to have a split lip for a couple of days, though." Alan was adamantly avoiding looking at her, glaring instead at the wall behind her head. His face was red, and she thought he must have been embarrassed about a girl giving him a bloody lip. "Look, see, it's finished now." She let her shirt drop back down and smiled.

Alan just grunted at her. "Edgar's getting you up from now on." He turned around and headed for her door, leaving Missy to fight off a smile once his back was turned.

A good portion of her first night in Santa Carla was fuzzy, and the events of the night before were blurred together in her mind. She wasn't sure if skunk head or the boys in front of the video store had been real, or just a product of her exhaustion, but one thing was abundantly clear to her as she listened to her angry stomach snarl. The tour that the Frog brothers had given her hadn't included a kitchen. "Hey, wait!" She called out, and from the hall, past the door where she could no longer see him, Alan's voice came back.

"What?"

"Do you have a kitchen?" There was a moment or two of silence on Alan's part, and Missy worried he might still be sore about her hitting him, and was ignoring her . "Alan?"

"Sort of." Missy stared at the door across from her bed, her sluggish morning mind trying to process what it had just been given.

"Wait, sort of? Alan!" She rolled off the bed and ran through her door. Alan was at the top of the stairs now, and her hand shot out to grab his bare arm. "That doesn't make any sense!" He turned his head and glared at his elbow. Her eyes followed his to her pale hand on his darker skin, and she let him go. "How can you sort of have a kitchen?"

"I didn't say we sort of had a kitchen." Alan corrected her, and as much as he was frustrating her, she waited for him to continue without comment. "I said it was 'sort of' a kitchen."

That made, if possible, less sense to her, and Missy frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"See for yourself." Stupid cryptic Frog brother. "It's in there." She followed his finger and found herself staring at the closed door to the Frog brothers' parents' bedroom. She heard the stairs creak behind her and knew Alan was gone without looking. She wasn't sure how she felt about going into the Frog parents' bedroom without their permission. She didn't want to walk in on them sleeping, or worse, awake. It was a lot easier, she was realizing, dealing with Edgar and Alan, who were closer to her own age. What if the Frog parents experienced a, from what she could garner, rare moment of lucidity and realized her for what she was? Would they throw her out, or worse, would they call the police who'd, in turn, call Renee?

"What are you standing in the middle of the hallway for?" Life with the Frog brothers was going to take some getting used to, Missy realized as for the second time since waking, she found a Frog had snuck up on her. Living with Renee, they had each of them done their part to avoid the other. It had been a lot like living alone, really. It wasn't the same with Edgar and Alan. She couldn't seem to shake them if she tried.

Edgar was standing in the bathroom doorway, watching her, with a blue toothbrush in his right hand, a tube of Crest in the other. He was glaring, an expression that Missy was becoming used to seeing on him. She was surprised to see him with a toothbrush, though, because from everything she'd heard about teenage boys, she hadn't thought that they had the initiative to brush their teeth without being told to. "Are your parents in there?" The younger Frog sneered at the word, and she made a note in her head not to use it around him anymore.

"They're down in the shop already." He disappeared into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. She heard the water in the sink start running and glanced at the parents' door again. No time like the present, she figured, and it was better that she learn the state of the sort of kitchen before she went grocery shopping. Her hand wrapped around the knob and she took a breath for courage before turning it. The door swung inward, and she felt along the wall for the light switch, flipping it. The room was only a hair bigger than hers, and she found it hard to believe, from the state of it, that anyone lived in the room. The bed was made, but the comforter was wrinkled like someone had been sleeping on top of it. The curtains were drawn, and made of a thick, heavy material that blocked out the light from the windows. If she had been half as paranoid as Edgar and Alan, she might have been concerned that the boy's parents were vampires.

To her a right she could see a short wall that jutted out from the other, only partway into the room. She walked around the partition and she realized at once what Alan had meant. It was a kitchenette, like the one that had been in their room the time that she and her father had stayed at a hotel to be closer to her mother in the hospital. There were two cabinets up high and a shelf beneath them, with a microwave on it. Beneath the shelf was a counter with a small sink on one side, and an empty box of cereal on the other. Set in the counter, closest to the floor, were two more cabinets, and a small white fridge. Kneeling, she pulled open the fridge and looked inside. A carton of milk, expired. A container of beef and broccoli, a half eaten burger with a handful of fries, and something fuzzy that might have once been a piece of fruit. Disgusted, she shut the fridge and turned to the cabinets instead. The two lowest cabinets were both empty, and between the top most ones she found an unopened box of cereal, and three bags of chips.

She shut the cabinets and left the bedroom, jogged down the stairs and cornered Edgar and Alan behind the counter. "You don't even have bread!"

They glanced at each other, and back at her. "What are you talking about?" Edgar asked her, and she turned and pointed up the stairs.

"How are you two still alive? You've got nothing at all up in that kitchen." Alan snorted and Edgar rolled his eyes.

"We're on the boardwalk." The younger Frog grunted at her and hoisted a box of comics up off the floor. "Go get something if you're hungry."

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that you survive on nothing but cotton candy and corn dogs." When neither of them answered her, she groaned in disgust. "Oh my god! I'm surprised you both are still breathing! It's not healthy to eat nothing but fried food all day!"

"Stop lecturing and go put some pants on." Edgar snapped at her, and she winced. Alan looked up from his box and zeroed in on her bare legs, turning red again. "This is a business, you can't be running around half naked."

Missy folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. "Fine, do you have a pair of scissors I could borrow?" The boys looked at her like she was on something.

"What do you need scissors for?"

"It's hot." Missy said, slowly, like she was talking to a pair of five year olds. "I want to use the scissors." She made a cutting motion with her left hand. "To cut my jeans." She ran her hands down her legs to symbolize pants, and pulled them back up her thighs for shorts. "Into shorts." Edgar grunted at her and leaned over to open a drawer. He came back with a pair of scissors with black handles. He held them out to her, handle first, and she took them from him. "Thank you." He nodded and Missy turned away from the brothers and jogged back up the stairs, humming.

She dropped the scissors on her bed and opened the armoire. She wanted to see what Santa Carla was like in the sun, but first, she knew, she wanted a shower. Bad. She was grateful that as big a hurry as she had been in when she left the house in Seattle, she hadn't forgotten to take a few essentials from the bathroom. She doubted the Frog brothers even knew what conditioner was. She shook her head and threw a pair of jeans over her shoulder at the bed. She'd packed for cooler weather out of habit, and the balmy beach air was warmer than she was used to. She was sure a cool day in Santa Carla could rival Seattle's hottest scorcher, no trouble. While she had always been a summer sort of girl, and was certainly enjoying the new climate, it spelled bad things for her wardrobe. The only thing she'd brought with her that didn't have sleeves was a yellow, floral print camisole, and she weighed her options. She could cover up, and be miserable for the rest of the day, or she could show a little more skin that she was used to, and be somewhat comfortable. She tossed the camisole on the bed with her jeans and shut the armoire. Heck, she thought, when in Rome…

A shower had been just the thing she needed, she realized, to feel like herself again. No, she felt like a brand new person, and as she ran her brush through her hair, she was impatient to get out on the boardwalk again and see the world with the new Missy's eyes. Cutting the legs off of her jeans hadn't been as difficult as she had feared it would be, and when she was finished, she pulled on the edges until they frayed. "Perfect." She buttoned her new shorts right as her bedroom door came open, and she whipped around to glare at the intruder. "It's called knocking," she discovered that the intruder was Edgar. Figures.

"My house." He snapped.

"My room." She shot back, and he grunted. "Look, I don't want to fight you, Edgar, did you need something?" She didn't like how cranky the younger Frog made her. She wasn't used to being so disagreeable to someone who wasn't Renee, and she decided then that she would make an effort to be more amicable with Edgar from now forward.

If Edgar thought that her radical change in demeanor was unusual, it didn't show. "We wanted to know if you were going out."

"I wanted to see the boardwalk." Missy replied. "I didn't really get a chance to look around last night, what with the running around and trying to find a place to stay, and I think I'd really like to ride the carousel-"

Edgar waved his hands at her and stopped her. "If you're going out, can you pick up something to eat on your way back?"

Missy scoffed. "If you think I'm going to perpetuate your foul dietary habits you're crazy." Edgar made a face like he was either going to interrupt her, or ask her what perpetuate meant. Either way, she shushed him with a wave of her hand. "I wanted to go grocery shopping, anyway. There's tons of things you can make, even without a stove, and I'm not going to eat myself into an early grave just because you two don't know the difference between corn and a corn dog."

"Whatever, here." He tossed something at her, and when she bent to retrieve it, she realized it was a twenty dollar bill. "Try and get stuff that we're going to actually want to eat."

Missy just smiled. "Burgers and hotdogs are fine on occasion, Edgar, but not to live on."

"Yeah, well, we've survived just fine until now, Mom." He grunted the last word at her and walked away. She stared at her empty doorway for a few seconds before she let herself smile. Life with the Frogs was going to be difficult for all of them, she realized, but the twenty dollar bill in her pocket said that maybe, just maybe, Edgar and Alan were willing to try and make it work with her. She fished a fifty from between the pages of Oscar Wilde and it joined the Frogs' money in her pocket. She slipped her feet into her sneakers and laced them up, patting her thighs once and pushing off of the bed with a renewed sense of adventure.

She found Edgar behind the counter, ringing up a customer, and Alan, milling around the racks, putting out new comics. "I'm off." She called to them, her whole body itching with the excitement to be out on the boardwalk. Edgar looked up from his clipboard and she heard Alan stop. Edgar's eyes met hers, and he nodded once.

"Be careful."

Missy rolled her eyes at him and smiled. "Now who's the mom?"

Edgar glared. "You think we're kidding around with all the monster stuff, but we're not. Santa Carla is crawling with vampires."

Missy nodded her head, waving her hand dismissively. "I saw the memo, I got it."

"No, you don't get it." Edgar growled, and his sudden animosity paralyzed her. He came around from the counter and stopped in front of her. "You need to start taking us seriously, or you're going to get yourself killed out there." A shiver went down Missy's spine, and despite the fact that she was standing in the sun, she felt cold.

"Look, Edgar, Alan." She added, when she noticed that the darker haired Frog had snuck up behind her. "I hear you guys, I do, and I'll be careful. It's daylight, right? And vampires can't come out in the day." The Frog brothers stared out at the world beyond the door, bathed in sunlight, and visibly relaxed. "So I'm perfectly safe."

"Until sundown." Edgar amended, and Missy sighed.

"Right. I'm going now." She backed out the store, hesitating just outside the door. "If the Wolfman calls, take a message for me, would you?" She winked and turned away, but not quick enough to miss Edgar's last word.

"It's always funny until somebody gets eaten."

Missy wasn't going to let the Frogs' paranoia get to her. Vampires didn't exist, and even if they did, why would they come to California of all places? Wouldn't they be living some place where the sun didn't shine so vehemently?

The boardwalk was a different place during the day. It was like someone had flipped a switch, and Missy realized that things didn't seem quite as magical with the lights turned on. There was still something charming about the daytime boardwalk, and there were twice as many people during the day than she remembered there being at midnight. People heading to and coming from the beach, bathing suits everywhere she turned, and the roar of the roller coaster as it dipped and winded, its passengers screaming around every turn. She rode the carousel twice, and decided that she would try to ride a different horse every time until she'd ridden them all. Judging from the number of horses, and it was difficult to count them all when they were spinning, it would take her quite a while to ride them all.

The beach was packed with people. Adults with young children, and several groups of young men carrying surfboards under their arms. She walked the sand for ten minutes before she found a place that wasn't occupied, and sat down, undoing the laces on her shoes and wiggling her toes in the sand.

It was hard to relax. Even on a beach, with the sun warming her all over, all she could think about was what sort of progress Renee and the police might be making. She wouldn't be eighteen for another couple of months, and in the meantime, Renee could come along and take her back as soon as she was able to find her. Hiding was essential, she realized, but she wanted to enjoy her new life. How was she supposed to enjoy being away from Renee for the first time since she was twelve if she was constantly checking over her shoulder for her?

"Ugh!" She cried, kicking out at the sand and flopping onto her back, glaring up at the clear sky. Renee wouldn't give up, she knew that. Not until she turned eighteen, maybe not ever. How long would she have to keep looking over her shoulder until she finally saw Renee there?

She wondered if the Frogs had a television, she hadn't seen one, but it would be nice to be able to watch the news. By now, Renee had to know where her bus had been headed, and before long, the Seattle police would be in contact with the Santa Carla police, and they'd be looking for her. She would just have to hope that the local police wouldn't take the search for her too seriously.

Edgar and Alan didn't seem as happy to see her with grocery bags as she would have expected, and neither one of them seemed to appreciate the fifteen minute walk away from the boardwalk that she'd had to take to find a grocery store. She also noticed, as she struggled with the bags, that neither one of them seemed to have a chivalrous bone between them. "Um, help?" Alan was the first to react, coming around the counter to take the bags from her that were cutting the circulation off to her hands.

"You did see the fridge right?" Edgar asked her as she handed him a bag to carry. "All of this isn't going to fit."

"Oh, it's mostly dry or canned stuff, you'd be surprised." Missy led the way to the small kitchen and dropped the last few bags on the floor. "Okay, dry goods, top cabinets, canned goods, bottom cabinets. That way, if something falls out of the top cabinets and clonks you on the head, it won't be a can!" She chirped, and the brothers winced at her cheery nature.

"Did you get a lobotomy while you were out?" Edgar raised an eyebrow at her, and she glared.

"Shut up and help your brother put the groceries away."

"You're not helping?" He asked, and she scoffed.

"I carried them all the way here. But you two have fun!" Missy slapped him on the back and left, leaving them to stare after her back, and wonder what exactly they'd gotten themselves into.

Thank you for reading.

[towntonki]

Angry birds space trailer

Woodzie - Has no ability,but breaks threw glass,wood and damages stone! Sarge - Breaks weakest to hardest obstacles in his way, mostly like Terrence!Īlex Bird - Brings out a grapple hook in tapped area!īrooklyn - Speeds like Chuck but bounces off glass. Magnet Bird - Brings in everything around him and then pushes it away! (May change if power is altered) McDuck - Throws nuggets and fries and when launched,said food will enlarge and break anything downwards!Īrcher Bird - Throws 3 arrows in the direction that you tapped on! (May change if power is altered) Heikki Terence - Like normal Terence but combined with chucks power! Tony - Slams towards the ground, releasing a small shockwave! Stella - Trapping objects in bubbles, then lifting them up and dropping them! The Blues - Has the ability to split into 3! When upgraded to level 2 he pushes objects! They see a hologram of King Pig has the eggs, showing them that unlike previous encounters, they won't be able to get their eggs back after a battle in the castle. Then the birds get sent through a portal from the ground (which is obviously new to them, unless if they count the circus), and then end up in some familiar territory. then they remember that this has been happening for many years now, so it's nothing new. The birds then turn around and freak out. While the birds were distracted, the eggs (and the nest) vanished through the portal. Red then noticed a mosquito and attacked it. Meanwhile, the birds were enjoying their peaceful time after their last encounter with the pigs. 'The birds are surely gonna surrender after this!' King Pig gloated. The end result was a huge transportation portal, which the pigs could use to quickly go from one place to another. While some started to question his sanity, most followed suit anyway. Thus, he order his minion piggies to follow the plan and start building. 'This is brilliant!', exclaimed King Pig. He demanded the pigs to 'give me a plan which'll be so extreme the birds will have to consider defeat!'Įventually, both Chef Pig and Foreman Pig gave him a plan which they've been working on for the past couple of weeks. He really wanted to live up to his ancestors legacy, especially his father's, as he was the only one in the family up-till that point who found the eggs.Īfter the pigs put up a photo of his most recent defeat, he lost his patience. He tried everything to steal the eggs from basic snatching, travelling in various seasons, attempting to take them during the birds' mysterious disappearance in 2011, going into space (though that wasn't his initial plan), driving away in vehicles, challenging the birds to tournaments, and various other hare-brained schemes, none of which proved successful. Staring at photos of his defeats from 2009 to present day, he moped. And this time you can also try out a new game system, which, while not particularly original, is certainly appreciated."King 'Smoothcheeks' Pig was in despair. Even the game aesthetics - strange as the mix between birds and Transformers may sound - are actually quite appealing.Īngry Birds Transformers is a simple, fun, and addictive action game like almost all the games in this franchise. You can take aim directly at your enemies, and also shoot the surrounding structures to make them collapse in pure Angry Birds style.Īs usual with games from Rovio, the graphics on Angry Birds Transformers are fantastic, with very detailed models in 3D. The protagonist will run forward nonstop (from left to right on the screen), so your job is to use your fingertip to aim where you want to shoot. Instead, we're looking at a 2D action game where you have to aim and shoot constantly. Gameplay in Angry Birds Transformers has nothing to do with what you'd expect from the Angry Birds franchise. Angry Birds Transformers is a 2D action game where players control a hybrid Angry Bird/Transformer trying to recover items stolen by the Decepticons, which have fused with the evil green pigs.

[goboymusic]

I don’t have the verbal intelligence to freestyle rap, but I taught myself how to rap sufficiently enough for this song.

9-year-old sister performed the high-pitched gangster vocals in the intro and outro.

“Krunkdom” was meant to be song five, but it was put on the back burner for about six months.

Inspired by hip hop songs from 2009-2010. The melodic choruses took inspiration from 3OH!3, who I was particularly interested in at the time.

The instrument tracks were created about six months prior to recording vocals (all consisting of software instruments). Once vocals were recorded, it only took about one week to complete the mix. Everything worked out as intended. It’s rare when that happens. Normally songs turn into a puzzle once you reach the mixing phase.

My memory is a little fuzzy around the production process for this song, which means it went smoothly. Nothing notable happened. Songs 10-15 were made simultaneously (N3RD EP), so it makes sense that some of my memory would be blurred.

I slam higher education in this song, which was a mistake. I do value higher education today.

The lyrics are 100% pure, organic, cold-pressed bubblegum pop. Nothing of substance. Discard after using.

”Krunkdom” was part of the N3RD EP, released during senior year of high school. Excerpt from post 10: Like “Jenny (Song 1),” the N3RD EP caught a lot of attention in high school and the surrounding Metro Detroit area, which was really fun to experience. The goal for the N3RD EP (songs 10 - 15) was to let loose and have fun. No limitations. If a song needed a rap section, I’d rap. Song needed a metalcore inspired breakdown? It would be added. Girl at school was cute? She would be added to the lyrics.