#the day your president stops treating the fans like children and telling you things like they should be the world will be a better place

[moviestarmartini]

visca barça at least we aren’t fascists💙❤️

come off anon and say this to my face so i can block you and keep my peace as i have been doing because i don’t like conflict.

i literally abstain of commenting on the disgusting things i’ve heard culers say about us because i simply dislike speaking ill of others and i’m able to respect completely whatever club you support, unlike whoever sent this. and this is probably the last instance i’ll do comments like this.

to have things like this dropped into my ask box when i’ve been nothing but respectful is insulting. this reason why i disliked football in the first place growing up and why im hesitant when barcelona fans follow me. if you follow me, unfollow and stop bothering me. and overall fuck off tremendously.

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Book Thoughts: Ellen and Oscar

Re-reading RWRB and thinking about Oscar and Ellen. The thing is book Ellen and Oscar's relationship scares me because it's like the worst-case scenario of my own parents (they're a lot better now but covid was hell) So I understand it.

Ellen and Oscar are soulmates. As in they are both intelligent, stubborn and headstrong. They are very similar people. Unfortunately this is a case where it's like forcefully pushing two North ends of a magnet together: Ellen in particular wants and needs a complimentary relationship instead of collaborative relationship, which is why Leo works for her: Leo is meek compared to Oscar. He really just listens and generally agrees with Ellen. His appearances are limited in the book but when he does show up he doesn't really have his own opinion. Ellen wants/needs someone who won't speak up against her.

Honestly? I, kinda feel sad for Oscar. He said it himself, "We're both too fucking proud. But God, that woman. Your mother is, without question, the love of my life. I'll never love anyone else like that." It's sad to know that he never stopped loving Ellen while vice versa isn't true, and to know that she's it for Oscar.

When it comes to parenting I honestly think Oscar is the better parent. It was really shitty of him to leave without telling Alex and June and that evidently really hurt Alex til this day, but when it comes to the other parent things? I was re-reading/listening to Chapter Four today when he goes to DC for Christmas, and both Alex and June are so much more comfortable with him. Part of that is probably because he doesn't carry the inherent pressure of being the fucking president, but part of it is that he really cares about his kids as they are. Ellen downplays June's passion for journalism and pressures her into a political job that she didn't want at all, while Oscar "raved about June's latest blog post for The Atlantic". Ellen immediately started piling up all the political consequences of firstprince literally minutes after Alex plucked up the courage to come out to her while Oscar gave him relationship advice. This isn't to say Ellen isn't a good mother, she is flawed, as Oscar is, as all parents are. But if we're looking at non-crisis moments, Oscar's actions are more comfortable for his children.

There's a reason June initially wanted to go to California and be close to her dad. Yesterday I talked a little about how I hated how Ellen and Alex treated June at the earlier chapters of the book. Well in the rest of the book it's implied that she has a much closer relationship with Oscar, jumping into his arms when he arrives at the White House, him picking her up and spinning her when they arrive at the lakehouse.

Either way, Ellen and Oscar clash becasue they're too alike, and my opinion is that Ellen tends to fan the flames more, see Christmas dinner where Oscar suggests campaigning with them to help and she immediately shoots it down with "you can't be serious". Anyways, the children suffer the most. And uh, speaking from experience here, that shit never goes away. My parents are still together and are a lot better compared to the past, but I flinch at any sound of argument/angry yelling because of all of their fighting.

And there's this one paragraph in the book: "Even before Alex's parents split, they both had a habit of calling him by the other's last name when he exhibited a particular trait. They still do. When he runs his mouth off to the press, his mom called him into her office and says ' get your shit together Diaz.' When his hard-headedness gets him stuck, his dad texts him, 'Let it go, Claremont'" and God that's so shitty? To know, to be reminded that one parent hates the part of you that is from the other parent. Even if that's not what Ellen and Oscar's intention is, that's what it feels like, and it's really, fucking, shitty.

I wonder how would book Alex feel if he know that there was an alternative universe out there where his family was functional. I wonder how would he feel if he knew that movie Alex doesn't have his loving sister, but has loving, gentle parents who have a healthy, functional relationship.

My guess, is that he would say that he'd choose his life and his sister no matter what, and he means it because he does love June, but deep down a part of him would be jealous of movie Alex for having a smaller but healthier and happier family.

[romanticahwi]

Stray Kids as Princes

requested: no

genre: fluff + a bit suggestive

ship: skz x gn!reader

warnings: a bit of suggestiveness of sexual deeds, mentions of swords and fighting, mentions of injuries, lmk if there is more

not proof read! (minors dni)

a/n: we apologize for being so inactive recently! here’s a new work we’ve been working on, we hope it makes up for our long absence.

Bang Chan

    •    Probably one of the sweetest rulers ever

    •    Incredibly approachable

    •    Gives you the best advice you’ve ever heard sometimes whenever you’re having problems

    •    Sometimes you forget he’s royalty because you just feel so comfortable around him

    •    Lots of people swoon over him because honestly how could you not? Especially since he’s so sweet literally 24/7

    •    Nobody has ever seen him unhappy before, and he has certainly never been seen angry - only slightly annoyed but that itself is a rare sight

    •    He has a big soft spot for puppies and just all things cute

    •    He might have once proposed to change the name of his kingdom to something puppy-related (Succeeded in changing the national flag to something that had puppy paws in it)

    •    He enjoys swimming a lot, and there will almost always be a crowd of fans watching him and cheering him on every time! He may get really shy about it, but on the inside, he secretly likes it and it motivates him to do better!

Bang Chan As Your Prince

    •    As a lover, this man treats you like you’re royalty too, even if you aren’t!

    •    He will never allow you to degrade yourself or put yourself down but if that’s your way of coping, he won’t hesitate to give you his full, undivided attention…and then he’ll shower you with love and very kind words (he’s incredible with them - it never fails to blow you away)

    •    His singing voice is lovely, you often ask for him to sing you to sleep which is something he loves to do! He sees it as a way to get in some minutes of practice so he can improve himself

    •    He always wants to better himself and take care of others so much to the point that he’ll ignore his own needs, so he’ll definitely need someone to take care of him

    •    You sometimes can’t believe you’re lucky enough to call him yours, but he feels the same about you too, and he’ll always make it known (You swear your heart melts a little (in the best way possible) whenever he gets shy)

    •    He’s very cuddly, he loves giving you hugs; if there’s a day that goes by where he doesn’t give you one at least once throughout the day, then you know something is wrong

    •    He giggles a lot, and anything can set him off but you find it to be incredibly endearing

    •    He is just so soft…especially in the bedroom, but there are times when things get a little more heated

    •    “In a world that was dark and grey, you came along and painted beautiful, vibrant colors”

Lee Know

 •    He seems unapproachable at first because of his icy stare, but that’s quite the contrary actually (he’s actually an incredibly warm human being)

    •    Loves to crack jokes! Most of them are cat-related, but don’t comment on that or else he’ll probably stare at you weirdly and will continue to do so until you let it go

    •    Don’t tell anyone, but he secretly loves playing with cats in his free time, and sometimes whenever he has to spend a full day tending to his ✨ royal duties ✨ you’ll find him squeezing time in to pet some stray cats or to rescue them

    •    Speaking of rescuing stray cats, he’s incredibly passionate that no cat should be homeless and each should be loved and taken care of

    •    Not just cats, but he believes any stray animal shouldn’t be left without a home or a loving owner (He himself has three cats)

    •    He’s basically the president of the kingdom’s animal rescue team, and he often checks up on the shelter to either play with some of the animals there, or he’ll chose one and spontaneously run around the kingdom to promote how adorable they are in hopes of finding them a home at the end of the day

Lee Know as your Prince

 •    You must be an animal lover like him, because you guys will spend so much time together at the shelter to play with them!

    •    He’s a little awkward when it comes to affection, specifically hugs, but with given time, he’ll warm up to it! Plus, he’s awkward in a cute way

    •    He’s gifted you a cat plushie which you’re unable to sleep without at night, sometimes you’ll catch him stealing it from you because he claims that it’s just too adorable

    •    You guys have ice cream dates a lot, because he seems to have a second stomach for it

    •    Whenever you go with him to get his portrait painted, he loves to pose in funny positions and make funny faces, there are a lot of portraits consisting of him doing so, finding a more serious one is kind of rare but hey…you’re just glad to see his true personality that he’s a bit hesitant to share with the rest of the kingdom

    •    You happened to discover this on accident, but he likes it when you ruffle his hair and look at him fondly, it makes his heart race

    •    He often guards his emotions, but you feel thankful whenever he opens up to you because sometimes you get worried when he bottles them up for a little too long

    •    He can be a bit evil sometimes, and that shows in the bedroom but he makes sure to never do something you’re not comfortable with - your needs come first  

   •    “You are my pride and joy, I feel so lucky to have you”

Changbin

• SUCH A FUN MAN!

• Nicknamed the prince of fun! Only by a few people…everyone else refers to him as the “pig-bunny prince” because he has a big obsession with Dwaekki (he might even be the face of the kingdom…literally. aka the national flag)

• You can trust him with practically anything. But do expect him to playfully tease you most of the time!

• He can be really loud! Even if you’re a few rooms down from whatever room he’s in, there’s no doubt you’ll be able to hear him

• He really loves music, he’s in charge of anything music-related (He’s hosted rap classes before, and a lot of people found them to be a bit on the difficult side because he can rap incredibly fast)

• He’s pretty chill, and kind of like a best friend to everyone - he’s that open to things and he’s incredibly reliable (He’s got everyone’s back, whether you’re close to him or not.)

Changbin As Your Prince

• He’s a very fun lover as well, your love life together is always full of excitement

• Certain activities could possibly cause him to get severely injured, and you always mentally note that you should tell him to stop, but seeing the pure joy on his face…you can’t help but to change your mind. (He’s a little daredevil, it’s kind of rare to see him mellowed-out, and when you do, you should probably be concerned when he isn’t being his loud, hyper self)

• He can be pretty affectionate when he wants to be but he displays his love for you through other actions rather than physical affection

• He too, is very good with his words! He makes you feel like you’re on cloud 9

• That “cool guy” act that he’s got going on? It doesn’t show up as much when he’s with you, because he’s just that comfortable with you. (Plus he thinks that you deserve to see the true Changbin…the man behind the prince that everyone else doesn’t get to see)

• His playfulness shows up in the bedroom too, along with ruthless teasing, like sometimes you’ll have to beg for him to have mercy on you but in his opinion that just makes things more exciting

“What was my life before? Ever since we met, I can’t seem to live without you anymore”

Hyunjin

the softest when it came to serving his kingdom

his gentle voice and soft smile always brought people to ease when they were around him

an equestrian. when not attending to royal duties, he’s always riding a horse or in the stable

as the only child and only son, he must take over the kingdom, no questions asked

throws an annual winter wonderland festival to show his gratitude to his subjects

his kind smile is loved by all

Hyunjin as your Prince

so so so loving oh my

would help you make bracelets for the small children in the kingdom

would press loving kisses to your face with that shy smile of his

would also take you on horse rides! in the morning, middle of the day, at night? you name it!

intimacy between you two was so loving and soft

he would show you how much he loves you with sweet kisses and gentle words

“everyday when I watch the sunset, I realize I’ll get to spend another day with you.”

Han

he gives off the vibe that he wouldn’t want to rule the kingdom after his father.

he wants to pursue music, but the king is against it.

so against it, that Jisung has to do what he loves behind his father’s back

very playful; loves sword fighting and horseback riding

everyone in the kingdom as a slight crush on him

he’s known for being very heroic; he’s saved many people and the protected the kingdom with an iron fist

he may not want to rule in the future, but he still cares about his subjects like family

very giving as well; always there if anyone is in a bad situation, whether it’s big or small.

Han as your Prince

very loving; loves pressing kisses all over your face, and having his hands on your body

very protective. If anyone looks at you with barely even a little interest, it’s all over.

when you two get intimate, I see him being the one to initiate everything

he would take care of you, kissing down your body with soft praises and soft touches

holds your waist gently while doing the do

“ there are many bright stars in the sky, but you’re the brightest out of them all, baby.”

Felix

the sweetest prince ever.

cares so much about his subjects; maybe more than himself

everyone loves him, and are very ready for him to take over the kingdom

hosts monthly bake sales that the entire kingdom can participate in, which also helps feed people in need

dances when he’s not attending to royal duties, and oh my, he’s a beautiful dancer

during the cold winters, he hosts as much shelter for people as he can

being the only son in his family, he needs to find a significant other soon because his father is getting old to keep running the kingdom

Felix as your Prince

no surprise, but he’s the sweetest

he can’t keep his hands off of you when you’re together

hands on your waist, holding your hand, any skinship, he’s doing it.

when you two were intimate, regardless of his roll, his eyes would be filled with so much love.

loves it when you run your hands through his hair, tugging it gently

nonstop kisses. he’s completely addicted to your lips.

“i might be the kingdoms pride and joy, but you are my absolute universe.”

Seungmin

very strategic and well educated. he knows what he’s doing, and knows how to do it well.

extremely brave. he’s saved the country multiple times.

he comes off as cold, but behind closed castle doors, he’s an energetic puppy.

loves to sing in his free time

often gets caught singing in the castle garden, and gosh he sounds beautiful

extremely protective over his family. You hurt them, he hurts you.

Seungmin as your Prince

cold on the outside, warm on the inside

will not go father than keeping his arm out for you to wrap around when you’re in public

but within castle walls? he’s all over you.

kisses kisses kisses galore

smiles brightly only for you :(

sings you to sleep every night

when you two are intimate, he usually wants it soft and slow so he can show you how much he loves you

soft praises and slow, romantic kisses

holds your hand the entire time

“you are more beautiful than the cherry blossom blooms on a sunny day.”

I.N.

playful but caring

he always is holding a smile on his face. there’s never a point and time where people weren’t seeing him smiling.

however he takes his royal duties very seriously. when someone is in trouble, he’ll put the villain in their place.

a fencer. he finds such a thrill in fighting someone with a sword.

since he has an older brother, he doesn’t have to take over the kingdom, and he’s happy about it.

ideally want to live in a forest, surrounded by trees and wonder.

I.N. as your Prince

so so so caring. he cares about no one when it comes to you.

he loves to press gentle kisses all across your face, neck, jaw, etc. he just thinks you’re so beautiful.

would love it when you showed up to his fencing matches. he loved it when you were there to cheer him on.

you two would stay up till the rise of the sun singing and giggling with each other.

would hold you close when you two eventually fell asleep.

this sweetheart would let you take any role when it came to intimacy. he was an absolute fool for you.

“When the sky is filled with sweet, bird songs, I get reminded of you.”

- atalia & arya

[gypsealife]

What to do in New Orleans

What to do in New Orleans

Do you want to go to New Orleans but aren't sure where to begin? I'll tell you about some of the top things to see in New Orleans in this article (Louisiana). NOLA, or The Big Easy as its residents refer to it, is known around the world as the metropolis of jazz, Creole cuisine, and a distinct dialect.

New Orleans, located in southeastern Louisiana, is described as beautiful, colorful, relaxing, and fun.

It is a city of French and Spanish ancestry with strong African-American characteristics, exhibiting American pluralism via architecture, music, and cuisine.

Since President Thomas Jefferson purchased New Orleans for $15 million from Napoleon Bonaparte, it has been a great American rare.

Immersing yourself in its French Quarter is like stepping back in time to the 18th century, while also taking in the cultural distinctives that have been added during the 19th and 20th centuries to create this the country's most eclectic city.

Due to its origins on the banks of the famous Mississippi River, it has a large ethnic, cultural, and religious diversity, as well as one of the most important musical diversity in the United States. It is a melting pot of cultures, including French, Spanish, African, Latin, and Caribbean, and as a result, the majority of its residents are of African heritage.

1. Go to New Orleans' French Quarter.

Bourbon Street is located in the center of New Orleans' French Quarter.

The French Quarter is unquestionably the crown jewel and thus one of New Orleans' must-see attractions. It covers around 13 blocks from Canal Street to Esplanade Avenue and is known among its residents as "The Vieux Carre" or simply "French Quarter." Bourbon Street, studded with restaurants, cafes, bars, and strip clubs, is one of the city's most popular and busiest streets.

Visit James Square, one of the city's most prominent squares, which is located along the Mississippi River. You can see the gorgeous St. Louis Cathedral from here, or take a rest in the famous Café du Monde, which was built in 1896.

2. Show your support for the New Orleans Saints.

Of course, we can't ignore the most popular sport in the United States, American soccer. This sport is extremely popular in Louisiana, particularly in New Orleans. The New Orleans Saints, 2011 Superbowl champions, and their home stadium, the stunning Mercedes-Benz Superdome, are based in New Orleans. The team is well-liked and respected by the locals because they exemplify the principles of hard work, tenacity, and never giving up in the face of adversity.

These qualities also represent this metropolis, particularly when Hurricane Katrina struck in 2005 and wreaked havoc on the city. After winning the Super Bowl, the team's fans elevated them to the status of heroes.

3. Get to know New Orleans by riding the streetcars.

Streetcars in New Orleans

Another thing I recommend doing in New Orleans is taking the streetcars to get a feel for the city. These fantastic electric streetcars date back to the 1600s and provide lovely excursions in buildings that are still in use today.

There are currently four primary lines that provide tours of some of New Orleans' most popular and noteworthy attractions. You'll be able to see the Mississippi River from angles you've never seen before on one of these tours.

4. Louis Armstrong Park and Congo Square

Congo Square is a historically significant square. New Orleans was the only city in the northern United States that allowed slaves to meet in public and play their native music during the French colonial era, when slaves were transported.

On Sundays, their one day off, they met in Congo Square to do so. Today, it is part of Louis Armstrong Park, which was once known as "La Place des Negres" by the settlers, where they sang, played music, and sold homemade cuisine. As a result, it may be stated that in the early twentieth century, Congo Square gave birth to an era's worth of indigenous music: Jazz.

5. Treat your ears to some music at Preservation Hall.

New Orleans' Preservation Hall is a jazz venue.

The Preservation Hall, located on St. Peter Street in the center of the French Quarter, is a historic location where you can enjoy acoustic jazz music in an intimate setting practically every day of the year. Every day, the facility has a cast of more than 50 local musicians who perform in various formats.

If you come in on any given night, you'll be treated to the sight and sound of local and resident musicians improvising great tunes. If you appreciate this type of music, New Orleans holds one of the country's largest jazz events, the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, which takes place every year.

6. Historic Voodoo Museum in New Orleans

New Orleans was the core of the slave trade and commerce in the United States before the abolition of slavery in the 18th century. During this period, the slaves' cultural and religious traditions, which originated mostly in Africa and Haiti, were assimilated into the metropolis. Voodoo was one of the city's most enduring traditions.

After centuries, the city of New Orleans established the New Orleans Historic Vodoo Museum, which is solely committed to educate people about African culture and religion. Throughout history, ritual books and voodoo dolls or amulets have been found here.

7. Take a walk in City Park in New Orelans to get some fresh air.

City Park, one of the city's main green lungs, situated roughly 3 miles northwest of the French Quarter. With a total area of 5.3 square kilometers, you can breathe fresh air while exploring centuries-old oak forests, walking routes, biking paths, lakes, picnic places, and more. The New Orleans Museum of Art, as well as the Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden, a garden full of free sculptures and the New Orleans Botanical Garden, are all located inside the park's borders.

The park also features two stadiums, golf courses, rugby and soccer grounds, and hosts a variety of events throughout the year, including weddings and the Vodoo Music + Arts Experience, which is the largest music festival in the world.

8. The New Orleans Museum of Art is number eight on the list.

If you enjoy art, the New Orleans Museum of Art - NOMA - is a must-see in New Orleans. The museum, which is located within the magnificent City Park, has an extensive art collection of 40,000 items covering 5,000 years of history, as well as a sculpture garden in City Park that is open to the public for free.

Hours:

Monday was a holiday.

From 10:00 a.m. until 18:00 p.m., Tuesday through Friday.

Saturday from 10:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m.

Sunday from 11:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m.

Price:

Adults are charged $15.

Students at universities pay $8.

Admission is free for those aged 19 and younger.

9. Oak Alley Plantation is number nine on the list.

Oak Alley Plantation's Avenue of Oaks

Nearly a dozen old plantations with gorgeous houses and exquisite gardens can be found about 50 miles west of Downtown, along the Mississippi River. Whitney Plantation, Laura Plantation, and Felicity Plantation are a few examples. A visit to Oak Alley Plantation is highly recommended.

You'll need at least 2 hours to absorb 200 years of history and tour all of the properties of this old sugar plantation, when roughly a hundred slaves worked between the field and the house as men, women, and children.

Schedule:

Monday through Saturday, 9:00 a.m. to 17:00 p.m.

Price:

Adults are charged $25.

$10 for youth (13-18 years old).

$7 for children aged 6 to 12.

Admission is free for children under the age of five.

10. Take a Mississippi River cruise

I urge that you see New Orleans from a different vantage point. Get to know it by taking a trip down the Mississippi River on the Natchez, Louisiana's most famous steamboat. It would be nearly difficult to truly appreciate New Orleans without traveling down the Mississippi and aboard the Natchez.

You will not only go through the entire city of New Orleans on this expedition, but you will also travel through the states of Kentucky and Missouri, among others. Aboard this lovely old ship, you will have a wonderful time. Don't miss out on wonderful meals and fantastic musical performances!

11. Enjoy a meal at the historic Commander's Palace.

Commander's Place Restaurant in the Garden District of New Orleans

The remarkable ethnic mix of New Orleans is reflected not just in religion and music, but also in the food. The most popular cuisine in the city is "Cajun," which combines classic, rustic French cuisine with regional products and influences.

The legendary Commander's Place restaurant is located in the Garden District, surrounded by lovely and historic colonial farmhouses. I recommend stopping by to get a feel for the area and sample some Creole cuisine.

The National WWII Museum is number 12 on the list.

New Orleans is home to the acclaimed National WWII Museum, which opened in 2000. This museum is a must-see for history buffs who want to learn everything there is to know about WWII.

You can also accomplish it using interactive artefacts and artifacts from the historical period. It is, without a doubt, an attraction not to be missed.

[z-007]

A Journey of Sadism (mental and physical)

I was born in the 21st of April 1992, in Jableh-Latakia. But, since my father was an employee for Total French company in Syria, I grew up in Damascus. At the age of 4, I was diagnosed with Diabetes type 1. It was very hard for me at the beginning when I was a child, and my mother suffered a lot, giving me insulin injections, which I found painful at that time, and analyzing my blood sugar to inspect what did I eat if the result was soaring sky high. I hated her at the beginning, simply because as a child, I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. At 8 years old I went to a school that is Sunni Islamic Pre-Historic School in Dummar called -Young Scientists- something that I discovered later on to be ironic. In Syria, If you weren’t good at school, you were cursed, you became like a Boxing Heavybag. They also used Falakas, the art of whipping feet. It didn’t stop at that, simply because parents became part of this process too, using any tool at their disposal in beating their child, chair, water hose, hammer, clothes hanger, electric cables, let alone being slapped on the face in a way that I started feeling my bones were shaking, and my eyes will throw fire, or kicked in your head and started bleeding. All of this, was because my marks in Arabic, mathematics, history and geography were not good except in English. It was the best language to understand for me, and the subject in which I saw myself to be a good student. As a consequence of that, I started losing control and cause trouble to my so-called teachers at that time. Luckily in 2001, I found my sanctuary that took to a completely different world. It was the first time I saw James Bond in GoldenEye. I was so thrilled by the action sequence, the theme of betrayal and everything about it was cool. This was a turning point in my life to become a Bond fan. I also learnt how to sing rap songs like Faint for Linkin Park, and Bleed It Out. And all of my father’s friends who were French, British and Americans were impressed. It was something that I remember with a loving memory to those people. Later I watched the rest of the Bond films and the happiest moment in my life was when I found the complete DVD set in Tartus. Simply because no DVD store in Damascus had the complete set except one who was also our neighbor. The curse of buying films in Syria was that they were badly used CDs at the bloody beginning. It was very rare to have a CD converted from an original DVD. This greatest franchise in the whole world has sealed my internal wounds for not being a good student. Ironically, the mental case of mine came back to me when I was at High School, especially it was a time that determined who I am, luckily it passed with no harm to me, because a single mark changed future to some students .I forgot to mention, that the school principle when I was at the ninth grade, didn’t stop calling my parents and telling them not to spend a single penny on me, because he thought I will never be successful. But I brought a mark that was better than his children’s. In 2010, I became a student of English Literature in Damascus University, I remembered that I was not a bad student at that time with an average of 80 percent. But the Syrian Crisis began in 2011, the press was already screaming for blood and the political unrest escalated to the extent that we had to change residence. This was the bane of my existence to open my eyes and find myself in Latakia. I was simply cursed and hostile, because I didn’t speak like Alawaits, their accent felt like starving dogs, in other words, they bark. They are trivial, shallow minded wankers who had nothing inside their heads except clothes, mobile phones and narrating a fairytale about themselves having sex with girls and a horny 40-year-old women they come across and imagining penetrating their vaginas and sucking their nipples. I registered in Tishreen University at third year, I managed to transfer my documents to that platonic place. The professors didn’t like me, simply for participating in their lectures, and the fact that I spoke French, Spanish and a little bit Russian. As a consequence, I kept failing at University over and over. Moreover, I had different ideas, and University Professors are bigots and snobbish. Their opinion was the only one that matters. The impact of the mentioned earlier, had made my pain started with breakdowns, screaming my head off and security gathering around me like” what happened to you?”. Added to that, emotionally speaking, I had a horse sex drive in that Mohammadian society. Girls dressed in a way that said to male students, “come to me.”. The majority of women at that city showed their breasts, waist, legs, and what attracts me most their feet, especially, high heels, that gave them a very elegant look. For my good fortune, all I had in front of me was Pornographic DVDs and websites, so I kept masturbating from 11:30 pm until 10:00 am from night to daylight. Still wondering, how men attracted them, I didn’t have any idea, and the question kept circulating. I also hated the idea of marriage, especially that I always loved to live my life the way I fathomed. I didn’t like the idea of getting buried alive by being a bloody father and spend the rest of my life with only one Angry Factory, aka, one woman. The psychological problem kept increasing and started with depression; taking anti-depressants for a while and go back to my normal life when soothed down. I kept taking them every now and then. Students were not allowed to know about their mistakes at any cost, this was a University rule. Self-doubt has caused me to go to a neurologist who started doing me brain scans, simply, I just wanted to know why am I that stupid, for failing continuously and still I didn’t get an answer. I was always deprived of sleep, studying my arse off and my professors didn’t care seeing their students DIE and SUFFER in front of them. Everybody panicked from me, always avoided seeing me, treated as unusual man. At that time, due to the fact that I kept taking anti-depressants, they became ineffective and stopped giving me relief. Part of what killed me thousands of time when I’m still alive was realizing that I cannot become an MI6 agent at any cost. I simply wanted to do 1 % of what James Bond did, take notice, that I was not pursuing women, I was looking for action and suspense. I wanted to be stationed in the heart of ISIS or Spectre and operate in the shadows to protect Queen and Country. I didn’t like Hasan Nasrullah, Vladimir Putin who looked like a Bond villain or Ayatollah bloody Khomeini, even Ali Bin Abi Talib himself, and that’s why I was also crucified for being a James Bond fan. Family and friends made a laughing stock out of me. I started dinking excessively, and suicidal thoughts kept recurring to me. They didn’t stop driving me to bring a razor and wound myself to death, it wasn’t the MI6 job that destroyed me the most. It was self-doubt. Doubting my brain efficiency and abilities, and especially that I saw students whom I thought less capable to express themselves in English than I am. My family tried to see the professors in Tishreen University-Latakia, unsuccessfully. I simply couldn’t have any idea what is the main reason I kept failing over and over. How could I develop myself without knowing my mistakes?!!, I later told some people that I wanted to be an MI6 operative, I thought that might sooth my tension, however, it got things worse. I started attacking the professors while giving their lectures orally and physically. I also broke the classroom washbasin, and the entire classroom windows, then security staff gathered around me after 3 minutes, they were about to send me to an unknown destiny, later, everything stopped after the head of the English department told them not to take any action. The last problem I did was with World Literature professor, whose name is Noor AL Araby, she was a real bitch, I remembered studying her syllabus for a month, she told us that Virginia is not required for the exam, and she brought it. As a result of that, I wrote her three pornographic stories on the exam paper. Stories people see in Brazzers and Naughty America (Porn films companies). Everybody got pissed off, the story was about to be dragged from my house to a security branch for torture. Luckily, my uncle who was a Colonel in the Republican Guard he had connection to the President of the University, told the professor to drop out the case, but she was persistent to have my balls for Christmas decoration. She spread what I wrote her on the internet and about to send them to newspapers. My parents begged her not to and we had medical reports that proved that I had neurological and mental case. Then I was suspended from the University for years, from 2016, till now. She did all she could to destroy me to the utmost level. I was happy when I realized she got very agitated. Especially, there were students confirming that exam questions were paradoxical to the things she lectures about.

Suspension Time

At the time I was suspended it was a slow killer for me. Literary, I realized that I was the worst student in the history of the planet. I decided to follow Boxing, I remembered that I was fit enough for the game. I found out that I did well at round bouts on the ring. I could do sparring sessions, shadowboxing…etc. I was able to run at least 10kms per day, 300 sit-ups, 80 press ups and 20 pull-ups. I tried to be a champion but every time I kept persevering, in addition to that my left palm was broken and my right eye was wounded. I got cold and sick, and I realized that I had to spend at least 2 months with vaporizers, fertilizers and strong meds. I kept striving in Boxing with no success. I lost confidence in myself and felt humiliated. I said to myself, why didn’t I choose to work for the Syrian Secret Service, I went to the branches, and when they saw that I was discharged from the military because of diabetes type 1, they asked me to get lost. I was surprised when I found out that my dentist was an officer in the Ariel Intelligence in Syria, I told him the story, he said “this is not your fight, you might think that you can do well in the field, but your enemies are smarter than you, they know how they can take you down and destroy you once and for all. Second, we had people who kill targets, who can do silent killings, detonate and sabotage, whether male, or female, but they have nothing to lose, their parents are killed and very poor, working to make money, and you are a discharged, rich bastard and you want to join us. I’m surprised when you told me that. I was a James Bond fan like you, but believe me my friend, that the real intelligence work will never come up to your expectations. Once the film you watch finishes and the novel ends, go back to reality, what you look for does not exist. I realized that I couldn’t become an asset for MI6, or any spy agency in this world, I felt that I was under surveillance by my country. I knew that they could look at my messages, trace my location any time they wanted. That was not the real problem, suicidal thoughts and self-punishment ideas didn’t leave me. So, I talked to my uncle to send me to the Special Forces, or any Military Barracks to become a martyr, to take the bullets to my chest. I remembered when I drank wine bottle on my own, I told my parents that I wanted to wear a C4 charge belt and blow myself up inside ISIS. They were horrified, then I was unconscious and within minutes, I found myself inside the clinic, after I told my problem to the psychiatrist, about MI6 dream and the doubt that I’m under surveillance. He told my mother that I’m a Psychotic. I was injected with needles and medications that made me feel like cutting my head off. He also sent me to Damascus for electro-therapy (to take electricity directly to my brain). I also became a field of therapy by my Doctor, he was testing medications on me like Invega that made me shake while standing up. Hence, he decided to give me Zeldox 60 mg, second generation anti-psychotic. My only comfort was when I slept. Waking up to life while taking those meds was a curse. I lost my sexual drive (libido), I remember feeling dizzy all the time, I remember calling the doctor every time when I tell him about the side-effects concerning dizziness and loss of sexual drive, he kept telling me that what you say is incorrect and that it didn’t have any symptoms. By miracle, my father brought me lower dosage medication, life changed for me. I knew cat-houses in my city, every money woman I went to for an intercourse, they took a lot of money. They were abusing me. The sluts didn’t make me enjoy the intercourse the way I wanted. They were controlling me as well, and this is why I left them. After I told my psychiatrist that I reduced the dosage, he said that my condition will deteriorate. He confirmed to me that Chemistry in my brain was not right, then I told him to screw himself. Reducing the dosage had an effect as well. I remembered at a certain time that painkillers were like a bag of peanuts for me. And when night came I felt incredible fever in my head. I felt like being boiled alive. And I kept seeing nightmare afterwards, voices telling me that I will pay the price of reducing the medication dosage. Complete terror and horror kept chasing me for a very long time. After recovery, I logged into the James Bond groups on Facebook, they made me trivia to answer, did me a test about the James Bond 24 films from Dr.No 1962 to Spectre 2015. After I answered them all correctly, they called me Agent 00Zein. Made me an admin, and I had many friends from all around the world. In the 5th of October the global James Bond day , I celebrated with millions of the franchise fans. My great father, brought me a modern computer and IPhone X to follow up with these groups.

Nowadays, I’m not looking for immigration, nor women or anything else in this world. I have chosen to help my parents when they grow old, and help them. This is the best way I can pay them back. I decided to watch films about espionage world, read books, imagining the events and enjoy it fully and get my arse back to reality.

This is the only way; I cannot be punished.

I can imagine myself a soldier of 30 Assault Unit in Ian Fleming’s room 39 in WW2, or talking with Sir Alex Younger about my mission in VX or Whitehall. If not Sir Alex Younger, it could be Admiral Miles Messervy, Admiral Hargreaves, Madame Olivia Mansfield, or Lieutenant Colonel Gareth Mallory. And realize that” It was a matter of pride that the 00 Section has been chosen for this test. This painful experience kept coming back sometimes, notwithstanding, I have chosen to take with a pinch of salt, lol.

[curious-minx]

The Divine Hustle

Do the hustle(!)

Working yourself to the death has never been so glamours! 

To live in America is to play by the business savvy handbook. America has never been a country of a wholesome omniloving God, instead the USA has always been the land of fleeced pockets. Much of America has fetishized the concept of “Hard Work” from the Puritantical Protestants to the Bootstrap pulling fantasia sprung from the Industrial Age. Some business CEOs even go as far to reinvent history by putting the word “Hustle” into Abraham Lincoln’s mouth:

“Things may come to those who wait … but only the things left by those who hustle.”

An actual quote from our Hardest Working President Business 

Yes, Lincoln the original Tall King, the first Presidential White Saviour, a Myth  more than Man, the living embodiment of a Pull Yourself By the Bootstraps Aesop fable. He needed that stove pipe hat to hide his vast quantity of hustle. I can see why a Business CEO type would be tickled by this fake quote. Lincoln’s legal work had him making more money at times than that of a prominent State Governor. There are reasons why he’s a Money Man. So tell me, Encyclopedia Britannica why would Lincoln feel the drive to accumulate this money and capital? Does it stem from Abraham Lincoln’s insecurities and low self-esteem from coming from a low income background? EB offers us none such info but it does lean heavily into Mary Todd Lincoln being a questionable influence on Lincoln. The EB is quick to file MTL as being the Insane, Difficult Woman who has developed an “obsessive need to spend money.” Of course, Lincoln had to make all of this money in order to pay for his expensive crazy wife. Makes perfect sense if I am someone completely stoned and drunk from hagiography and cute, quaint reductive views of history.

Lincoln’s business  savviness is made abundantly clear in his failed presidential campaign against Douglas. He published personally curated debate transcripts and his own Biography to hawk on the campaign trail. The acute self-awareness of his own remarkableness is perhaps one of Lincoln’s  main shortcomings and strengths. The man worked himself into a frenzy, constantly looked emaciated and worn down, and for what? The one few times he tries to take in one of his only pleasures in life, The Arts, he gets murdered. The Capitalist Mythmakers want us to forget about all of that. Abraham Lincoln worked because he loved to work and he was a good American, therefore if you want to be a good American like Lincoln,  you’ll work the Hustle.

Yes, this essay has been nothing but the ramblings of someone pretending like they know what they are talking about, but everytime I see the word “Hustle,” exclusively when it’s being used in terms of celebrating hyper capitalist America another part of me dies.

////

Wow, the people look meaningless from up here.

The New York Hustle. The Detroit Hustle. To do these hustles once meant finding a dancing partner for the night and telling the 4/4 rhythm, “4 steps are fine, but six steps are even better.” Now the New York Hustle is working three unpaid internships with the promise that a slightly underpaid gig could be on the way. All language inevitAbly changes and evolves, but that doesn’t mean I  have to be okay about it. The modern hustle is the joy killer. The modern hustle is pushing and shoving fellow hustlers over the faint whiff of dining room scraps. To hustle is to continue to believe in your own self mythology so hard that you too can become your personal Lincoln. An emaciated, husk working for the Good of the Company, er, I mean Nation. Maybe a scuzzy Matthew McConaughey will give you a spin. That’s sure to make any hard worker smile before she collapses.

/////

Have you ever seen a side hustle news filler story that didn’t make you want to walk into a murky ocean’s depths? One Google “News” search of the term hustle brings up this article about a New Zealand Woman supposedly planning slumber parties during Covid times. One can only assume that this is the case because the article (sourced from the highly reputable looking Stuff.co) despite being published in February 2021 makes no reference to the pandemic. This is because New Zealand has already moved well beyond those covid days. Covid slumber party nightmares aside, the idea of hiring a professional slumber party planner in or out of Covid times is a brazenly gross idea. The extent of “planning” that should go into a slumber party is how much should you tip the pizza delivery driver, how many boxes of brownie mix, and maybe the one job I could jokingly fathom hiring a person for is choosing what regrettable movie a kid should watch at a slumber party.

Slumber parties are for children, and can easily be planned and arranged by a child. There should never be a need to outsource “Harrypotter glam” themed teepees and treats. Maybe that’s the kind of life people in New Zealand want to lead and if certain individuals want to have that ambitious drive to make a ridiculous small company they should be free to do so. The sinister creeping reality is that the standards of the Exceptional Money Making Individual are becoming the standards everyone is expected to live up to. Passion  for the sake of passion, and art for the sake of art is getting the squeeze in favor of monetizing slumber parties.

Monetizing off of Twitter followers. Monetizing off of newsletters. Monetizing off of podcasts. Content creation for the sake of profit is basically the main reason the Internet exists anymore.  If you have something you love to do in your life like the act of reading a book you better be willing to invest in a USB microphone and recording booth to start your audio book reading career because otherwise you’re just reading a book. You’re just playing a video game when you could be streaming yourself for all of your adoring fans and followers. I could be thinking, but instead I’m tweeting.

I do not respect the Hustle. I respect differences and a variety of lifestyles. I respect Passion and drive. I do not respect the Hustle, because the side hustle is just  a full-time job the capitalist system is trying to make you consider a “side” project. One look at this exhaustive CNBC “The ultimate side hustle guide for 2021”, and what they are describing is not a side hustle but starting your own small business. They are not the same thing. A side hustle should not require an immense amount of time, personal wealth, and the possible necessity of hiring a freelancer and tax analysts to start when you are already working a full-time job and/or participating in the American Breeding Dream.

I know that I am lazy compared to many over working Americans. I am already in my late twenties and still staunchly refuse to engage in American Adult Tie Sensitive Checklist. I would like to work, truly I do. I would love nothing more than to be in possession of a job in a safe and humane company that legitimately favored Human Kindness and Decency over the Grind. Working for a company that didn’t feel like the sole purpose of its existence is to make more and more money.. I am trying to minimize. I am trying not to let other people’s perceptions clutter and crowd out my mind. I am trying to survive through this pandemic that has completely melted what little brains and physical strength I had. I will not stop trying to do the Divine Hustle.

Let’s just appreciate this blurry picture of Divine being eaten by a lobster and call it a day.

[papermoonloveslucy]

TALKING SHOP

June 25, 1967

ON CAMERA, LUCILLE BALL is the funniest female in America. They gave her a second Emmy early this month to attest to the fact. 

With the cameras turned off, she is an interesting combination of several people - hard-headed business woman, mother concerned and even outraged at some of the things being done to today's children, and talented actress who, happily, does not feel a need to keep reminding everyone around her she is a talented actress. 

The last is an attribute rare among Hollywood's distaff division. 

It was in Hollywood this writer met Miss Ball recently and talked with her at Desilu Productions, formerly the old RKO movie studios. Lucille once worked for RKO for $50 a week; now she is president of Desilu and in the process of selling it - for 17 million dollars. 

I let a tape recorder run while we talked. So, take the stand, Miss Ball. 

Q. You've sold Desilu to Gulf & Western Industries for all those millions. Have you turned over control yet? 

A. No, not yet. We haven't signed, or had the stockholders meeting, but it's coming up, and to all intents and purposes the deal is going thru. 

Q. What are you going to do then? What about next year will there be a Lucy Show on television in 1968-69? [The coming 1967-68 season is the sixth for the program, never out of the Top Ten.] 

A. I don't know. I never know about a next year until it comes. They [CBS-TV officials] always start asking me in December, and I tell them in March, April, or May. 

Q. Then you don't know whether you'll do another year of Lucy Shows after 1967-68, or some other series, or what? 

A. O, I wouldn't do any other series, ever. I may do the Lucy Show again, and I may not. I may just do movies. I really have no idea, not now. 

Q. Don't you ever reach a point where you'd like to put your feet up and not do anything, just loaf, with all that money? 

A. Sure I have a wish to put my feet up, but only because I've earned it and have something to go back to. To put them up forever wouldn't interest me. I can enjoy a vacation because it has an end. 

Q. What is there to stories about you being peeved because CBS is planning to build a show around Doris Day next year? There were reports in gossip columns. 

A. They didn't come from Doris Day or from me, and both of us are embarrassed. The story is true they have asked her to do something, and there apparently was an assumption by someone they were asking her to be available in case I stop. 

Q. But the story is you were angry because they were planning to put so much money into this Doris Day thing, to make it so big? 

A. Those are just lines people put in. I haven't any reason to be peeved, no reason to be anything but embarrassed. It doesn't matter to me, one way or the other, what they do. 

Q. In your biography, provided by your publicity agent, it says that when you were a 15-year-old you enrolled in the John Murray Anderson dramatic school in New York City, and that the first lines you read caused the instructor to "close his eyes in disbelief." Did that happen, and what were the lines? 

A. [Laughing] Something about water and horses, and I said "warter" and "horrrses," and he imitated me and then kind of gave up in disgust. 

Q. After that, you were a chorus girl on Broadway? 

A. [More laughter] Nope, never got in a chorus. I had several jobs, but always got fired before a show opened. 

Q. Why? 

A. I just didn't measure up. I was tall enough and young enough to be a show girl, but I guess I just didn't make any impression. 

A switch in the interview came about here. Lucille asked a question - How far from Chicago is Northwestern University? 

"My daughter Lucie [15 years old] is interested in the drama school there," she explained. "A lot of great people have come from it, so it evidently has a fine way of teaching. I suggested it to Lucie, in fact, so she could be thinking about it, because she is interested in acting." 

WHAT, we wanted to know, did Miss Ball think of the practice of "aiming" shows at the younger generation, of trying to capture such viewers thru sensationalism and sex. 

She had thoughts on the subject, angry ones. Yes, it's being done, she said, and deliberately, in TV. 

"But they are doing it in movies even more, and in books even more, more, more," she said. "I see motion pictures my children have seen, and I tell them, You went to THAT movie - They let you in THAT theater - I don't believe it.'

"Further, I can't believe kids can walk up to a rack in a store and buy the books they can buy today. I just can't believe it, but there the books and magazines are, in any stand all over the country." 

Lucille Ball has been "Lucy" on television for 11 years now, from 1951 to 1957 in the I Love Lucy series, and since 1962 in the Lucy Show. 

Who is Lucy and what is she like? We asked because characters on the home screens seem to develop real personalities of their own. Lucille Ball recognized this in her answer; she talked as tho of a living person, not an image on celluloid. 

"Lucy is very much like I am, I've found, in her sincerity and her enthusiasm, almost childish enthusiasm, and in her exaggerations and disappointments," Lucille said. "And these are the things we play on in the show. 

"We've found thru the years people love Lucy because she gets into predicaments they can understand. And we've found out something else that any man or woman playing opposite Lucy must be careful never to show what looks like real anger towards Lucy, because that will bring the audience down upon them. 

"They must be long suffering in enduring the troubles Lucy causes. If they seem really impatient with our gal, viewers will say - in hundreds of letters - 'My gosh, don't you know Lucy didn't really mean to do that to you?" 

Maybe it's just that Lucille, herself, attracts such sympathy from audiences. Because, back when she was playing the wife on radio's My Favorite Husband, the husband [Richard Denning] also had to be careful not to sound really angry at her on the air. 

"If he did," she giggled, "letters poured in. The ones to him would say, 'How can you treat her that way?' And those to me would announce, 'You should have a more understanding husband.' Poor Richard, he couldn't win." 

It seems possible. We felt mighty friendly, ourself, towards this Lucy, just from talking with her for an hour. 

#   #   #

FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

The sale of Desilu went through as anticipated at the end of 1968. Lucy chose to re-invent “The Lucy Show” as “Here’s Lucy” renting space from Paramount and creating her own production company, Lucille Ball Productions.  

The photo included with the article is from “Lucy the Stunt Man” (TLS S4;E5) aired on October 18, 1965.

CBS created a sitcom for Doris Day titled “The Doris Day Show”.  Like Lucy Carmichael and Lucy Carter, Day played a widow with two children living in California.  Like Ball, Day used her own first name for her character, Doris Martin. After one season on Tuesday nights, “The Doris Day Show” moved to Monday’s at 9:30pm, right after “Here’s Lucy” where ratings instantly improved. 

Both shows had a very recognizable cast member in common - Nelson, the sheep dog. Other cast connected to “Lucy” were Kaye Ballard, Jackie Joseph (Ken Berry’s wife), Strother Martin, and Van Johnson. Other actors recognizable to Lucy fans were Mary Wickes, Barbara Pepper, Charles Lane, Jerry Hausner, Ross Elliott, Bobby Jellison, Lou Krugman, Shirley Mitchell, Parley Baer, Madge Blake, and many, many others. 

[reasonsilovemywife]

Buckle up, I've got something to say

Most of you will ignore this post. I hope that you take time to read it, especially my white friends and colleagues...

I've hesitated to really speak my mind on the murder of Armaud Arbery, the murder of George Floyd, and the aftermath of these murders. I opted to not watch the videos of their murders, of their last breaths. I opted not to watch because it will only piss me off even more. I know the outcome without watching. I've seen it over and over again. I don't need to see it over and over again, again. I've hesitated because I feel helpless. I've spoken against racism almost my whole life, at least since high school. And what has that changed? Have I really made things better? Have I done all I can to end racism? I've felt outnumbered, I've felt intimidated, I remember feeling what my heart tells me is right being contrary to what others tell me is right.

Maybe I could've communicated better, but lacked the ability or lacked the information that would be more persuasive. Maybe I could have organized better, but lacked the commitment or the access or knowledge. Or maybe they just lacked the empathy for their fellow man. I still, vividly, remember the first time I saw racism play out in front of my very eyes. Innocence lost. It's still painful to this day. I've said in the past, as long as racist parents raise racist children, racism will never go away. But even worse, racism isn't just anecdotal, it isn't just individual-based. It is systemic. It has been woven into our institutions and structures over such a long period of time that it is subtle to someone who is not directly affected by it.

I feel helpless because of "all the progress that's been made", at times it feels like no progress has been made. In the 50s and 60s, it was Emmett Till, four little girls (Addie May Collins, Carol Denise McNair, Cynthia Wesley, and Carole Rosamond Robertson), Willie Edwards, Jr., Cpl. Roman Ducksworth, Jr., Jimmie Lee Jackson and many others. In this past decade, it's been Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, the Charleston Nine (Clementa Pinckney, Cynthia Marie Graham Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lee Lance, Depayne Middleton-Doctor, Tywanza Sanders, Daniel Simmons, Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, Myra Thompson), Philando Castille, Armaud Arbery, George Floyd, and once again, many others. So when we continually see these killings play out, the progress that has been made can feel hollow and inadequate.

Just like my words on a Facebook and Tumblr post can feel. And that's mostly all I have to offer, words. I can post and opine on Facebook / Tumblr all day, but is that really going to change anything? That's why I feel helpless. During my career at UPS I was hopeful to get involved in the community, to help underprivileged children, to help the homeless, and to get involved with anti-racist organizations in order to contribute to a better, more equitable and more harmonious community. But the truth is, I just worked. I just worked 70+ hours per week for a corporation that pays me for 50 hours per week, but expects me to do more and work longer if needed. But I digress. Yet, this leads to a lack of time and a lack of energy, and that's why I feel helpless.

I feel helpless because too many white people are dismissive on the issues of race. It doesn't negatively affect white people, so there's no need to get involved, right? This is one of the most obvious proofs of white privelege. And that's precisely the reason you should fight for social justice for minorities. If you don't want to be considered a racist, then stop looking the other way, stop benefiting from white privilege then deny that white privilege exists, stop acting as if "reverse racism" is equal to or worse than racism against minorities. If you don't want to be considered a racist, then care, act and live as if you're not a racist.

If you're response to "Black Lives Matter" is "All Lives Matter" instead of "Yes, They Do", then you are part of the problem and are clearly missing the point. Stop dismissing racism as a problem Black people (and other minorities) have to deal with. It's our responsibility as White people to end racism, not theirs. They're the victims of racism in America, not the perpetrators. So fix your damn self. Stop being tolerant. Stop being complacent. Stop being dismissive. Stop acting as if it's not your problem, because it is 100% your problem. My problem. Our problem. The problem is you've benefited from it, I've benefited from it. We've benefited from white supremacy our entire lives, and usually don't even recognize it. How could we, it's normal to us - although it should be abnormal. If you don't believe racism in America is systemic and intentional, study up on redlining, study up on the inception of policing in the South, study up on the educational, financial, and even medical care disparities during segregation and how it still affects us today.

Also, stop with all the generalizations. That goes for everyone. Stop painting everything and everyone with such a broad brush just because you're too lazy or too simple to actually learn and discern. Humanity is not a monolith. People groups are not a monolith. All Black people are not the same, all white people are not the same, all law enforcement are not the same, all protesters are not the same, etc., etc. There are good and bad in all things, including humanity. I know for a fact that there are good, moral, heroic police officers out there, because I have family and friends who are those good police officers. I also know for a fact that there are crooked, corrupt, criminal police officers out there. Those are the ones that I am against, those are the ones we all should be against, especially the good cops out there. You can be fully supportive of LE and also be fully supportive of the arrest and conviction of dirty cops. It's not mutually exclusive. Also, don't confuse the peaceful protesters with the looters, they are not the same people. People marching, holding up signs are not the same people as the ones damaging property.

Speaking of protesting, if you've never protested, please stop telling other people how to protest. How would you know the right way to protest, you've never needed to. Although I wasn't a huge fan of Kaepernick, his peaceful protest was just, but it made "us" uncomfortable so "we" hated him for it. He literally stated that he was protesting police brutality and racial injustice and literally stated that he was not protesting the military, not protesting the flag, but you hated him for it and, with the assistance of this ignorant ass president of ours, Kaep's mission was tainted, blurred, misconstrued.

Now, a lot of us our finally opening our eyes that he was right all along.

Speaking of Trump, can we get him off Twitter, at least until we can get him out of the White House. This dude has quoted white supremacists multiple times, then when questioned about it, acts as if he had no idea. Multiple times. He takes no responsibility for his actions. It would take less than two minutes for him to Google before posting. He's blatantly ignorant at the least. And don't come at me about the economy, the economy has been steadily improving since 2010 but y'all didn't want to acknowledge that until Orangina got in office. But let me get off politics because I'm not supporting Biden's stupid ass either. It would be nice if we had a worthy candidate, a dream deferred.

Although I feel helpless at times, I won't give up. I still have hope for the future. But the future starts now, it starts with us. Have empathy, be sincere, treat people as you would have them treat you. That's a good starting point, but remember, that's just the starting point.

#WeveGotWorkToDo

#BlackLivesMatter

[mermurder]

Pretty Little Square - a Jotaro/reader fanfic

i was just a smal baby weeb when i wrote my last fan fiction but the time has come (aka i started watching jjba and hoe out for all the Joestars)

Basically reader is stuck watching Jotaro during detention and things get a little rocky. No smut or nothin’ (yet ;000) but there are some swearsies w/ one directed at the reader so theres that. like i said this is my first fan fic in many moons so is probably trash. Enjoy!

Being at school this late was really starting to creep you out. The empty hallways and classrooms had a very strange aura to them. Like you were in some horror movie. You’d usually wouldn't be here this late if it wasn’t for one of your teachers asking for your help. He had to watch over the kids in detention today but had to leave due to some sort of family emergency. At the last minute he begged you to stay and take their place and you couldn’t say no. As class president, he knew he could trust you to watch over the troublemakers. Actually just one troublemaker. Before he left he handed you a sticky note letting you know who would be coming. Jotaro Kujo was the only name written down. Would he even bother coming? You weren’t even sure what he was in detention for, this time at least. It didn’t matter, he’s done all sorts of things that landed him in hot water. Even almost gotten expelled a few times. If it wasn’t for his saint of a mother he would have been kicked out a long time ago. 

She was such a nice lady, when you and Jotaro used to pal around she treated you like her own daughter. You and Jotaro actually used to be really close. Before your parents divorced you lived in the same neighborhood as the Kujos. Even though you were children your parents teased that you and Jotaro were little lovebirds. In reality you just did the normal things kids used to do. Played in the playground and watched after school cartoons. You two stayed friends all the way until high school. That was when Jotaro changed. The normal, kind kid you grew up with turned into a cold and sometimes cruel person. Now that you were class president you denied ever even knowing him, worried your reputation would suffer if anyone knew you used to hang around with him. You’d never dare tell anyone you used to have a crush on him either.

You sighed and raised your hand to block the setting sun from getting in your eyes. You leaned against the desk in the front of the classroom, waiting. The watch on your wrist showed three fifty-nine PM. Detention started at four. If he wasn’t here by fifteen past you’d leave. You weren’t going to sit here when you could be home studying and applying for scholarships. The classroom door creaked open and you turned to look. Holy shit he actually came. Jotaro stood in the doorway. His hands in his pockets and hat pulled down to shade his eyes.

“Where’s Mr. Ishimura?” he questioned in his signature monotone. You pushed yourself off the desk. “He had something he needed to attend to. He asked me to watch you instead.” Jotaro scoffed and let out a quiet ‘whatever’ and walked over to one of the desks in the middle of the room. He plopped himself down in his seat and propped his feet up on the desk. Just an hour of babysitting and you could finally go home. 

You decided to take a seat at the teacher’s desk. Pulling a book out of your bag you cracked it open and began reading. It was a book about some female warrior destined to fight against evil and defend her people. Your friend pleaded that you read it so you could go with her to see the movie when it came out. Humoring her, you'd already gotten to about the middle. The protagonist was starting to fall in love with the bad boy who’d cast himself out of the village. He was gruff and flippant towards her. But she was drawn to his charms like a moth to a flame. Barf. Who would actually fall for his crap?

The sound of a can cracking open yanked you out of your thoughts. You peered over your book to look at Jotaro. You hoped he just opened a can of soda but this was Jotaro Kujo we’re talking about. He leisurely took a sip from his beer as his eyes darted back and forth across the pages of a book. Was it worth the effort to get up and ask him to stop? Exhaling through your nose, you got up and walked around the desk to stand in front of Jojo. He either didn’t notice you were in front of him or didn’t care. Probably the latter. “Jotaro.” you said, hands on your hips. No response. “Jojo.” Oops you didn’t mean to call him by your childhood nickname for him but it seemed to get his attention. He stared up at you past the brim of his hat. It felt like he was glaring daggers into you. “You know what I’m going to say don’t you?” There was a pleading tone in your voice. Maybe just once he would behave. To your surprise he held out the can to you loosely. You snatched it away from him and gave him a disappointed look. It was practically empty already. Turning away you intended to keep the can to throw out somewhere else, you didn’t want the janitors finding an empty can of beer and thinking you had something to do with it. There was still a small amount of liquid still in the can though. Without thinking you brought the can to your lips and chugged down what was left. Behind you a soft chuckle came from Jotaro. 

“I guess the rumors going around are true then.” He mumbled, not quite intending for you to hear but the silence of the room made it audible. You turned on your heel to face Jojo. “What do you mean?” You asked, equal parts insult and curiosity hanging off your words. He didn’t even bother looking up from his book. “Everyone knows that the senior class president isn’t as straight laced as she makes herself out to be.” Okay sure you had a habit of having a smoke or two after school. And sometimes you’d sneak your dad’s beers if you were up late studying. It wasn’t something you were proud of but it was true. There was nothing to be done about the rumors, it wasn’t the gossip that pissed you off anyway. “You’re one to talk.” Your words cut through the air like a knife. Jotaro’s shoulders tensed and finally for the first time in the past half an hour he’d been with you he looked you straight in the eye. Placing his book on the desk he stood from his seat, towering over you. He looked down at your tiny form. You’d forgotten how piercing his blue eyes were. “What's that supposed to mean.” Your words were sharp but by far his were more intimidating. What had you gotten yourself into?

A familiar heat grew on our face. It was embarrassing being called out on your words. But more than that you were angry. Bottling up how you felt about Jotaro would do you no good. He was here, he had no choice but to hear what you had to say. “I’m so sick of your attitude…” Getting the words out of your mouth was already hard enough, looking Jojo in the eye was impossible. Jotaro was silent. You had no idea what his reaction was but after a short pause you kept speaking. “I might have my own problems but you act like such a jackass!” Gaining more confidence you stepped back and looked up at Jojo. With his hands in his pockets he once again had his hat covering his face. It cast an ominous shadow over his eyes. There was no way to tell what he was thinking. But you could tell he was listening. You already called this giant man a jackass, might as well keep going. 

“You act like you’re better than everyone else, its so annoying. I hate it, everyone hates it! Everyone's too afraid to call you out because they're afraid you’re gonna kick their ass.” The hands at your side balled up into fists. “You’re just...you’re a completely different person.” The frustration you were feeling made it hard to form sentences but you kept firing off anyway. “I remember when we used to play together. You were so nice back then. You loved going to the aquarium and spending time with your mom. Now you act like a complete bastard to everyone! This tough guy act you put on isn’t cool Jojo. I used to like you…now I just wish you’d snap out of it and act right.” Barely audible you added one last thing. “I miss the old Jojo.” 

Years of hearing about Jotaro getting in trouble had manifested into anger about the person you used to know. In your freshman year together you sometimes day dreamed of what it would be like to be Mrs. Kujo. You tried to push the silly thoughts about your best friend down until eventually you didn’t have to. The two of you drifted apart. Jotaro became a delinquent. You became a good student and class president. Feelings of infatuation morphed into anger. You lost your closest friend and now he treated everyone like shit. Now is was all finally out. The impromptu vent session actually felt nice. But now you had to deal with the consequences. 

Before you knew it Jotaro was right in front of you and invading your personal space. He glared into your eyes and managed to trap you between his body and the desk next to you. He leaned down just enough to be able to be face to face to you. “Listen to me.” He growled through his teeth. “Just because our parents made us go on play dates doesn’t mean you know me like the back of your hand. I grew up, things changed. It's time for you to do the same.” He was close enough to you that you could smell the cologne and cigarette smoke on him. You were terrified but also strangely excited. “I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me. I’ll do whatever the hell I damn well please. You have no idea what I've been through or what I’m going through. So you don’t have the fucking right to chew me out about how I’ve changed.” Your eyes began to water and you closed your eyes to prevent the tears from coming, in addition to turning your head away so he wouldn't see you cry. Just like you Jojo had one final thing to say. “The last thing I need is you mouthing off at me and acting like a little bitch!” He didn’t yell at you but his raised voice echoed off the walls of the room. It was enough to finally force tears from you. One or two streamed down your cheek and you felt your lip begin to quiver. You couldn’t figure out why this hurt so bad. You didn’t care about some loser like Jojo anymore. Right?

When you opened your eyes again Jojo was still in front of you but standing straight at his normal height. He looked down on you but he didn’t look pissed like you thought he would. He actually looked kind of sad. The words he said replayed in your head over and over again. The tears came quicker and your chest began to tighten. “Just... just get out.” you mumbled between sniffles. You didn’t want to be around him anymore or for him to see you cry. Though it’s probably too late for that. Jojo collected his things and obeyed. You looked at him as he walked out the door and he gave you a look back. After waiting a moment you let the tears fall as they pleased.

Detention ended early that day. You didn’t care. After that you never saw or heard from Jojo again. He would creep into your mind from time to time but you’d quickly try to think of something else. Now that you were in college you couldn’t waste time thinking about stuff like that. Sometimes you could swear you’d saw someone who looked just like him on campus, but there was no way. A delinquent like him probably ended up on the streets or something.

...Right?

[untilmynextstory]

Considering my recent decision around AINE. I decided to treat you guys to a preview of a new story I am working on. 

“What happened?” Alma asks softly.  

Donna chews on her bottom lip as she picks at her fingernails. “A fed came by my house. Was trying to see if I knew anything about Opie’s business.”

 Alma blows on her tea and nods her head. “Agent Stahl, I presume.”

 “She said she could get Opie closer to home and out in a year.”

 “They will say anything to get you to make a slip up Donna. That would only hurt Opie and your family.” Alma replies.

 Donna’s brows furrow. “Opie is in jail that is hurting my family. This club hurts my family.”

 “You married into this Donna. You knew going into this what could happen.”

 Donna releases a bitter laugh. “So that excuses everything? I’m just supposed to accept the father of my children is a convicted felon.”

 The grip on her mug tightens. Alma knows she is treading on dangerous territory. She knows what she can say can push Donna in 20 different directions that can only hurt Opie. “If you talk to Stahl…you can get him killed, Donna.”

 Alma watches as the blood leaves Donna’s face. Maybe, Alma shouldn’t have said that, but she also believes Opie should’ve had this talk with her. It would make a lot of things easier.

 “From who? The Mayans? Nords?” Donna hisses.

 Alma’s brows furrow and she assumes Stahl gave her those names. Alma thinks it is better for Donna to have that conclusion considering that Alma was talking about the club. Alma knows Jax would never let anything happen to Opie, but he was only one person. If Donna talked…

 “From you. You coming here talking about giving a Fed information is gonna have him spun. He is going to be too focused about what is going to come out of your mouth than his safety in prison.” Alma tells her honestly.

 Donna releases a bitter laugh. “This can’t be happening. I came here for a friend and I feel like I am talking to Gemma.”

 Alma takes a sip of her tea. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not going to encourage you to rat.”

 “Because your family is perfectly safe and fine right. Jax is still here. Who cares about Donna?”

 “It isn’t even like that.” Alma snaps. “And the fact of the matter is one day I will probably be in your position or worse burying my fucking husband in an early grave. Don’t forget I grew up in this shit, Donna.  I lost my father to this life.”

 “And look where you are! Married to the fucking Vice President of the outlaw motorcycle club!” Donna roars. “What does that say about you, huh?”

 “What’s going on here?”

 Both Donna and Alma jump at the sound of Jax’s voice. His eyes are going back and forth between Donna and Alma. Alma can see his concern and agitation because the last thing she needs is stress during this pregnancy.

 “Nothing,” Donna spats. “I was just leaving.”

 Jax raises his eyebrow at the venom in her tone. He doesn’t stop her from leaving as she picks up Ellie’s carrier and interrupts Kenny playing with the kids to leave. She doesn’t bother with a goodbye and even slams their door.

 Alma moves from the table with her tea and places it in the sink. She hears Jax moving behind her and his arms wrap around her.

 “Does the club need to be concerned?” He asks her softly.

 “Stahl rattled her.” Alma admits. “And I don’t know what is going on in her head.”

 “Going after the women is a smart tactic especially ones that have the most to lose.” Jax mutters to her.

 She turns in his hold to peer into his blue eyes. “What is going on Jax? Don’t tell me it’s smoke because they wouldn’t wait until after Opie’s case and sentence to start digging into club business.”

 Jax pulls back some as he looks over her and sighs. His hands come up and caress her face. “I don’t want you worrying about this shit.”

 “Don’t use this pregnancy to keep me at length. Not telling me shit keeps me worried.”

 “A port commissioner was killed. He was the enemy of the Irish.” He tells her and nothing else.

 “Jax…” Alma knows there is more to the story. He isn’t telling her everything and it burns.

 “Babe, if it becomes something trust me I will let you know before shit hits the fan. Just focus on the little one, yeah.” He tells her as he pulls her close and back into a tight hug.

 Alma only nods her head against his chest.

[my-arlington-academia]

A little fanfiction for Axel's birthday! (Yes I'm always late to everything 😔)

After I missed his birthday, for some reason inspiration hit me and I wrote this to apologize to myself for forgetting. I decided to make Scholar a boy in this one since I feel like there's not enough male Scholar content! (This is also the very first fanfic I have ever shared with other people so don't be surprised if some parts are really clumsy. Beware of possible typos and grammatical errors...) Enjoy!

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The day was slowly drawing nearer.

Scholar was checking out multiple social networking sites and Axel's Wikimedia page for a few hours now. The fangirls and fanboys were excited all over the Internet as if it was their own birthday. Comments such as "Axel and I share the same birthday!!" And "I've been following you since the very beginning, HAPPY BIRTHDAY Axel 💖 you really helped me when I was going through tough times." Or "HAPPY B-DAY AXEL❤❤ I LOVE YOU BBY"

Made Scholar wonder how it must feel like to receive happy birthday messages from millions of strangers. Well, he was guessing that it must be really pleasant: why wouldn't it be? Even if Axel doesn't know them it doesn't change the good intentions they have. Anyway! This wasn't the point of Scholar's "research."

He was browsing through a bajillion of interviews, fanblogs and comments to find what Axel liked. Which was, he thought to himself, maybe a little dumb. They may have known eachother only for about 3 months but at least he knew Axel on a personal level, not through a screen. Hell, when they met Scholar had no idea of who that handsome rocker boy was supposed to be. And now here he was trying to find an answer to something he should probably know the answer to better than Axel's fans. Not to throw shade at them or anything.

"Aaaaaghhhh!!" Subconsciously, Scholar let out a loud whine not realizing that his voice was louder than he intended it to be. "Shut up!! We can hear you from here!" It was Karolina in the room nextdoor. "I'm sorry!! ...ugh." Thankfully she didn't hear the "ugh" part not that it would change her opinion about him.

Scholar was just so lost: "what the hell can I gift to a rich handsome talented guy and not look like an idiot?!" Is what was going through his mind the whole day and it was already 11pm. Tomorrow was Axel's birthday and he still didn't find shit. He had never been good at finding gifts, the only person he gave them to was his dad and then again, it was only sometimes. The both of them weren't the type of people to worry about formalities such as Christmas or birthday presents. And when it came to "friends" it was about the same story.

Scholar put the phone down. It was stupid to worry over something like that. Being surrounded with rich, talented and sometimes famous people all day long Scholar swore to himself one thing. Don't be fake. Be sincere with those people. To be treated like anyone else is what they deserve.

And so Scholar searched for a gift idea again, but this time in his mind. He searched for an answer in his memories, through the small amount of time they had spent together. What does Axel like? It's not that hard. He already knew.

Scholar's mind was set: music, dogs and piercings. A hobby, an animal and accessories. Simple, but let's just go from the basics. "It's not like I can buy something expensive anyway..." His muttering was blocked out by his pillow, no matter what he would find, Scholar was just hoping that it would at least make Axel genuinely happy. Even just a little.

The next day went as expected: everyone was wishing Axel a happy birthday. He was getting occasional gifts from people he was close with and from people with whom he had never even talked to, or at least Scholar was pretty sure that he didn't. Even Tadashi went a bit soft on Axel.

"Not giving me detention for my late arrival today, Mister Student Body President?" Axel was over 15 minutes late which meant that he was deserving of a detention slip by usual à la Tadashi rules. "Go away before I change my mind you ugly ear-pierced clown." Axel was nodding and smirking all knowingly. "Uh-huh. Of course Sir, could I consider this lack of strictness towards me as my birthday present?"

Tadashi reached out for the detention form inside of his bag and took a pen in his hand ready to write Axel's name down and the reason why he got a detention slip. Axel backed away immediately. "Alright, alright! I'm sorry! Geez. Could you at least not threaten me with this shit on my birthday??" Tadashi put the pen back into his pencil case and smiled. "There you go. I knew you had some self-awareness behind your 3 kilograms of makeup and your millions of engagement rings you wear."

Axel frowned like a child. "I don't wear *that* many rings! Also, my makeup is super light!"

The rest of the day went on pretty smoothly, though Axel was probably wondering why Scholar didn't wish him a happy birthday. Whenever other people approached him to do so Axel would always peek at Scholar from the corner of his eye,  as if to say: "See?! It's my birthday today..."

Scholar felt secretly super giddy because of that. Axel was totally waiting for it. After the last school hour of the day he even came towards Scholar ""to say hi."" "Hey, Scholar!" "Hey there."

Silence.

"Um. So. Don't you have anything to tell me?" "Nu-huh." "You sure?" "Yup." Silence again. Axel looked down in such an adorable manner that Scholar felt almost like he was murdering a puppy. "Hm. Okay... See you tomorrow?" Scholar smiled as sweetly as he could to hint to the fact that they would see eachother again today. "Of course. Bye!"

After trying to sound as chill as he could, Scholar hurried himself into town. Blindly looking for a gift might be a bad idea but it's often this way that we find the best ones. Scholar was relying on his luck and intuition, he was storming through every single shop until he came accross something a bit silly that could do the job. It was in a small shop named "lying tiger" with a lot of useless gadgets. It was simple, cheap and adorable. Hopefully Scholar's intuition was right.

Upon seeing the gates of the school getting closer and closer as he was walking towards it, he decided to pull off the fastest sprint of his life. If Murdoc had seen him he'd be impressed.

After a couple of minutes Scholar was standing in front of Axel's room. "Okay.... No wait."

It was 7pm and the sun was already gone from a long time ago since it *is* November. Scholar was sweating as if he just ran a marathon, which... He kinda did. He muttered again. "Ugh. Good job, Scholar. Why did you have the bright idea to make yourself smell like a horse before-"

Voices from the hallway were heard, a couple of girls coming his way. Damn it. Alright. Scholar decided to at least make himself look good before coming back, he changed his clothes into something more casual but also charming. A bit of deodorant here and there, some perfume and done!

This time around he was ready, if it wasn't for his stress kicking in that is. He suddenly didn't feel as confident in his gift as a couple of minutes ago. Well, it was too late to change it anyway. Scholar took a deep breath and knocked. He waited there without moving nor breathing. As if until Axel would get out of his room, time had stopped.

Suddenly, the door flew open. The moment their eyes met Axel mockingly smiled. "Oh? You finally decided to come and wish me a happy birthday? Haha." Scholar had kept his hands behind his back but when Axel said that, he instinctively moved them to his front, revealing the package he was holding. Axel stopped smiling and his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh." Scholar was already happy with that reaction alone, even if he was unsure on whether or not Axel would like the gift. For a second, this felt like it was enough. "Yeah. I couldn't wish you a happy birthday without giving you a present, could I? Happy birthday, birthday boy!"

Axel carefully took the box into his hands, really gently, as if he could break it just by pressing his palms on it. "Thank you! But geez, you didn't have to. I was worried the whole day, you know? I thought that maybe you were mad at me for something."

He said that while pouting, it was so cute and worth the trouble. Scholar didn't regret his sprint and the whole day lost searching for the gift. "Haha! Of course not. Oh but don't shake the box, you might kill it. Also hurry up and open it, the lil guy needs light." Axel blinked a few times before following Scholar's advice, he tried to open the package as quickly as possible without damaging the wrapping. Needless to say that he wasn't being really successful.

"What do you mean?! Don't tell me it's a hamster or something! You know that we can't keep pets in the dorms, right? Tadashi is *so* gonna kill me if-" It wasn't an animal. Not a real one at least. "A... A toy?" It was a little puppy playing an electric guitar.

"Yup. It has buttons on his back, when you push them the doggo plays sick riffs for you. It has also light effects on the guitar." Axel looked at the toy with admiration. As if that dog made of plastic was a real puppy.

"Oh. My god. A puppy. Playing the guitar for me?!? This is the cutest and most precious gift I have gotten today!" "You like it?" "Are you kidding?! I love it! I'm gonna practice the guitar with him from now on! He's gonna be my little guitar buddy!"

Scholar felt so proud. So damn proud. It was a good call. It made him think about the fact that children often receive useful gifts from the adults rather than fun ones. There was always a craving for a new toy in a kid's heart rather than the need to get a new backpack or clothes. Scholar believed that every teenager in the world still had a child inside of them who would always secretly pass in front of a toy store while ogling at it but being too embarrassed to enter and take a look.

"I'm glad, to be honest I was a bit worried about it. I mean, you probably received a lot of pricey and more useful things today." By the time Scholar had said that, Axel already took the plastic puppy out of the box. "Excuse me? You think that there is something greater in the world than a doggo playing a guitar? Pathetic. And like I told you I'm gonna practice with this guy!"

"Uh. Don't you practice in the auditorium? What will you do when other people will see you hanging out with a toy?" Axel let out the loudest gasp of his life. "How *dare* you call my friend a toy?? Have you even heard him play?"

Axel pushed the button and some light effects emerged from the toy along with a guitar riff, so skillfully played that he felt almost ashamed when comparing himself to the dog. "Holy shit. This dog is better at playing the guitar than me..." Scholar laughed cheerfully, his laugh was followed by Axel's adorable giggle. "Well, I'm happy you like it. This way whenever you play the guitar, hopefully you'll think about me for a bit."

Axel tried to pull off the most flirty expression he could, the kind of stare that couldn't be mistaken for anything else. "Bold of you to assume that I don't think about you everyday, sweetheart." He would've been so persuasive... if it wasn't for the doggo made of plastic he was holding. Scholar couldn't keep it in any longer and laughed again. Needless to say that he was surprised when he noticed that Axel looked a bit hurt. "... Axel?" "That's so mean. I'm really trying so hard but it never gets through to you, you know?" Scholar's heart dropped into his stomach. "What?"

He heard that right, didn't he? What Axel said just now. As for Axel, in a matter of milliseconds he was already back to his usual smiling self, regretting what he had said. "Oh, haha! Whoops, that came out really wrong. Don't worry, I'm not upset for real. Um..." The hallway went silent and Scholar was really anxious. He felt as if he effed up big time. He was about to apologize and get it out in the open. The fact that he was actually really mortified at the thought of Axel disliking the gift. The fact that he had a crush on him for a little while now. The fact that he was a dumbass when it came to taking hints because he thought that Axel was like this with everyone. But before he could, Axel spoke again. "Don't make that face, you didn't do anything wrong. Look, let's hang out together soon. Just the two of us. Deal?"

Scholar wasn't so sure about the "you didn't do anything wrong" part, since he just noticed that Axel was in fact trying to flirt with him for a while now and he was constantly brushing it off while thinking that it was just his imagination wanting his feelings to be reciprocated. Scholar gulped, unable to say anything else other than: "Of course! Whenever you want, I'll be there."

Axel slowly closed the door... and immediately felt like the hugest moron of human history.

Because he knew. He knew that Scholar would never play dumb with something like that, he just genuinely did not think that he, Axel, could ever like him in that way. But now he knew. Axel just spelled it out for him loud and clear. Next time they see eachother there won't be any doubts in the way. Axel fondly looked at the puppy in his hands. "If only your previous owner knew how to take hints... Well, there's no going back now."

Axel pushed the button again and listened to the puppy's incredible guitar riffs for a while. Even hours and hours later, before falling asleep, he still couldn't get the image of Scholar's astonished face out of his mind when he finally realized what Axel felt towards him. Axel grinned. This kind of expression had no subtlety to it at all. Axel swore to himself.

The next time they see eachother he'll tell him clearly what he thinks, no hints, no silly pick-up lines. And then they'll kiss for sure.

-----------------------------------------

Here it is! Sorry, the last part was so cheesy 😂. I apologize 🙏🙏 Most of this was written at 3am when I couldn't sleep, because obviously everybody knows that the best moment to write something is when you're supposed to be asleep /s

This has so many plot holes, like for example how is it possible that Karolina didn't beat Scholar's ass the next day for yelling in the middle of the night?? Or how come Tadashi was nice towards Axel for once? That's so OOC, absolutely impossible.

Anyway, Wikimedia is obviously Wikipedia and the "lying tiger" shop is actually "flying tiger" (Not sure if this shop exists in the US.)

Well, thank you for reading!

[sandershospitalau]

Help (Un)Wanted

(Warnings- Mentions of crime, Blackmail, Innuendos. Tell me if I missed any!)

Characters: Roman Prince, Virgil Lawson, Remus Prince, Dot Higgins, Nate Christopoulous

Read on AO3

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The first-floor doctor's lounge was often one of the busiest lounges in Sanders Hospital. There was always someone inside- brewing coffee, microwaving lunch, taking a nap on one of the beds stuffed against the wall- someone was doing something when you came in. Roman had tried to catch the room empty in the past, but he never succeeded. There was always someone in there, though the people in the room often made him laugh. He once caught Patton sleeping on one of the beds, half of his body dangling off the mattress. Another time he saw Remy grabbing a box of store-bought powdered donuts, which later appeared in his coffee shop. He wasn't sure if Remy was allowed in the lounges since he wasn't a doctor, but neither was Roman and he had used the lounge's resources many times before. That day, Roman thought he would finally find the room empty, but Virgil had beaten him inside.

The Head of Nursing sat at the off-white table in the center of the room. His dark purple scrubs dangled on his thin body like a mattress draped on a pole. He sat cross-legged on the chair, black Crocs cradling his fabric wrapped feet. Roman noticed he'd redyed his grape colored hair- the color had been faded for the past week. Virgil had his laptop on one side of the table and a worn notebook on the other. He scribbled something into his notebook as Roman closed the door. Virgil looked up, bangs reaching his eyes. He leaned over and pushed out a chair next to him.

"You're really getting into this nurse's rally idea, huh?" Roman chuckled, sliding into the chair.

"Did you get the go-ahead from Thomas?" Virgil asked, stuffing the pen he was using behind his ear.

"He's all for it," Roman chirped. "As long as we jump through the needed hoops to keep everyone safe, he's more than happy to let it go on." Virgil grinned and pulled his laptop closer. Roman couldn't help himself- the emo nurse's smiles were rare enough that when they emerged, they ignited Roman's heart. Smiles like those were part of the reason Roman loved his job.

"So you told me a bit about what this is supposed to be," Roman yawned, stretching his arms. "What's the full story here? Leave nothing out!"

"Do you watch the news?" Virgil asked as he typed something.

"A bit," Roman admitted. "I find it to be a bit too depressing most of the time."

"Yeah, well good thing you didn't watch it when this came onscreen," Virgil huffed. He turned his laptop screen around so Roman could see. It was pulled up to VIN3, the major news channel for Florida news. It was an article by VIN3's leading medical journalist- Terrence Williams. For a moment, Roman was a bit excited- whenever Sanders Hospital released press statements, Roman always preferred talking to Terrence- but his excitement dimmed when he saw the article's title.

'State government plans to cut funding for Florida nursing education.'

"Well that's no good," Roman muttered.

"No, duh, Princey," Virgil snapped. Roman rolled his eyes a bit at the nickname. "We already need more nurses, we don't need the government giving the ones we have a half-baked education. This hospital would collapse without nurses. They need just as good an education as the doctors do! Who do they think actually gives patients their medication? Who does most of the hands-on work? What genius came up with this idea?"

"I agree with you, no need to get your Crocs in a twist," Roman interrupted, holding out his hands to stop Virgil's ranting. "Also, Crocs? Really?"

"What?" Virgil grumbled. "They're comfy. My shoes don't matter, this is what matters. We need to get those moronic politicians to realize how stupid this is."

"That's where this rally comes in, right?" Roman asked. He reached for Virgil's notebook. Virgil slammed his hand down on the notebook. Roman pulled his hand back. "Woah, alright there, J.Delightful. Just wanted to see your ideas."

"Alright, just..." Virgil muttered. "Don't touch the notebook. So far I'm thinking we get as many nurses as possible to march on City Hall. Maybe get some speakers up there, chanting..."

"T-shirts!" Roman chirped. Virgil raised an eyebrow. "I'm serious! A good protest has t-shirts! We've got the funds. Oh, and a big banner we can carry at the front of the march. Do you have a march path planned?" Virgil typed something on his laptop and pulled up a map. A purple line snaked across Miami, starting in front of Sanders and ending at City Hall. "Hmm... Virgil, unless your plan is to lead our nurses through the heart of gang territory, I suggest going around this neighborhood." Roman circled a neighborhood on the map. Virgil sighed and pulled his purple line around the area Roman circled. "I'm a bit surprised Mr. Honorary Security Guard didn't know that."

"I'm from Atlanta, what do you want from me," Virgil huffed. "And how do you know-"

"Nate," Roman chuckled. "We have coffee every other Saturday." Virgil rolled his eyes, a tiny smile playing on his lips. "When you get to this street, you're only a couple of blocks away from St. Gemma's. If you want a good impact, you could make a stop there and pick up their nurses."

"I dunno," Virgil groaned, rubbing his neck. "St. Gemma's doesn't have a good track record with how they treat their nurses..."

"They can't stop people from joining the march if they want to," Roman huffed. "Oh! We could even schedule it around lunchtime so most of them don't have to leave during a shift!"

"So it's 'we' now, is it?" Virgil scoffed, glancing at Roman.

"Why of course!" Roman declared. "I'm just as upset by this news as you! The world needs good nurses!" Roman's phone buzzed in the pocket of his personalized red letter jacket (while it wasn't 'the proper attire of a communications director', Roman always wore it around the chilly hospital). Roman pulled out his phone. It was a text from Dot, the receptionist at the lobby desk.

DARLING DOT (sent 1:53 PM)

Hey there. I just sent a man up to your office. He said he wanted to speak to you about a job. I know, I know, basic hirings are a bit below your job description, but he had all the proper paperwork and was insistent upon talking to you. I paged your office, but you weren't in.

Roman sighed, frowning softly. He had more important things to do than doing the job of human services!

ME: (sent 1:54 PM)

It's alright. I'm not one to deny a fan. Thank you for telling me.

"It seems duty calls," Roman sighed, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. "Shoot Thomas an email when you can. I'm sure Patton can help you brainstorm in the meantime!"

"Have fun sucking up to the board," Virgil scoffed, shooting Roman a two-fingered salute. He pulled his laptop onto his lap and started working again. Roman stood, cracking his back, and jogged out of the lounge.

Now, he could have used the elevator like a normal person to get to his office. It was on the top floor, after all. What moron would use the stairs to get from the first floor to the top? Roman, apparently. While others used treadmills and rowing machines to get their daily workouts in, Roman used the jog from the lobby to Entertainment Row. His shiny shoes clopped up the stone staircase as Roman started his climb. He could already feel his face begin to flush by the second floor, blood pumping through his body, heart thudding in his ears. When he reached the fourth floor, a pair of kids with thick wool beanies stumbled out of the door and raced up the staircase alongside Roman. Roman held out his hand, and the kid in the lead gave him an enthusiastic high five. The two kids scurried ahead of him and disappeared into the fifth-floor doorway. Roman didn't question why two children were running around the hospital unsupervised as he jogged on. That was a Patton problem!

By the time he reached the top floor, he'd tied his letter jacket around his waist and could feel some sweat clinging to his forehead. He hoped he hadn't sweated through his white polo. That would be a horrible first impression! Entertainment Row was to the left of the stairwell. Roman could hear people playing something in the patient's lounge from the sounds of the cheering and gunshots. However, Roman turned right, padding down the halls of meeting rooms and offices. If you had told a young Roman he would have an office next to award-winning doctors, he would have laughed. But he traced the Braille on the nameplate for Thomas's office as he walked past, smiling. His office was right next door to the hospital president. He pushed open his door and stopped in the doorway.

His office was about half the size of Thomas's grand room, but it was enough room for Roman to settle in and call the space his own. He didn't have any diplomas hanging on the walls like everyone else (the only one he had was the one from the online school he attended just to keep his crappy old job at a paper company), but he did have posters of his favorite musicals. Wicked, Hamilton, Les Mis, Newsies, they were all on his wall. He'd moved out the bookshelf that came with each office for a worn brown couch. His desk usually lacked much reason to it- He'd move his computer monitor to the left or right of the old wooden desk whenever he pleased and his bowl of Skittles roamed around the desk. His two photos- one of him and his parents, the other of him, Virgil, Logan, and Patton he took one day out of boredom- lacked a home. His office supplies were either scattered around in his desk drawers or scattered around the table as he made tiny origami from the post-it notes that would defend his landline phone. The nameplate, bearing the name Roman Prince in shiny letters was stuck to the desk, making it the only thing that made sense. But now, there was an unfamiliar order on the desktop. The monitor was nestled neatly in the middle of the desk. There was a photo on either side of the monitor. His origami birds sat in neat rows on the edge of the desk. The two chairs facing the desk were pushed in. Not to mention someone was sitting in Roman's chair.

The man wore a green leather jacket over a stained black t-shirt. He had a silky, bright lime scarf wrapped around his neck like a French fashionista. Despite his young age, the man's dark ginger hair was already graying at the front like Rogue from X-Men. He rested his pirate-style black boots on Roman's desktop and his jeans were covered in holes. There was a sickly pink tinge to the skin around the man's eyes that only stood out against his pale skin. His mustache would have been proper in the 1900's, but now it looked cartoonishly evil. The way he was now, it would have been very difficult for anyone to figure out how the man knew Roman. But with a bit of a makeover, it wouldn't take long for people to recognize Roman's twin brother.

"Boo," Remus said, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Roman slammed his door shut.

"Remus!" Roman hissed. "Get- get off that!" Roman darted across his office and grabbed Remus's arm. Remus ducked underneath Roman and crawled to the couch- literally, he crab-walked like a possessed child in a horror movie onto Roman's couch. He sat on the couch's arm, one leg dangling off the side.

"Well that's a rude welcome," Remus huffed. Roman stomped to the couch.

"What are you doing here?" Roman snapped.

"I work here!" Remus chirped. "Unofficially, for now."

"Uh, no," Roman said. "You don't work here, officially or unofficially, you knock-off Heather Duke. Why are you in my office?!"

"I thought it was high time I dropped in on you!" Remus sighed, leaning his head on his hand, elbow to knee. "Isn't this what brothers do? Come see each other at work? That's not rhetorical, I'm actually asking."

"You texted me last week," Roman huffed.

"I know, but when it comes to giving you a good old fashioned hug..." Remus sighed. "Our last meeting was at Christmas last year! Thank you for the sweater, by the way. I've done many things in it."

"Ew," Roman groaned, regretting many of his life choices, one of which was not devouring his brother in the womb (an event that Logan once described to Roman which temporarily scarred him). "I am not hugging you." Last time the two hugged, Remus put Roman in a choke-hold and didn't let go for a minute and a half.

"So this is your office," Remus purred, hopping off the couch. He strolled around the room, hands behind his back. "Good job, brother! I should have visited sooner!"

"Please don't tell me you're the person Dot referred to," Roman groaned.

"That's me!" Remus chirped, spinning on one heel to face Roman. "I would like to get paid, please. I won't make you pay for the couple of months I've already worked, but it would be nice to start earning a paycheck."

"Couple of-" Roman stammered. "What?!"

"For my services as a janitor," Remus declared, giving Roman a little bow.

"I thought you had a job already," Roman huffed, crossing his arms. "Unless you got fired again."

"No, no, no, I still have my other job," Remus said, shaking his head and hands like he was denying another serving of cake. "But since I clean two hospitals, I'd like to be paid for both!"

"You are not getting a job here," Roman snapped. "Remus, you may be my brother, but my family duty has its limits. I'm sorry, but I need you to leave." He pointed towards the door.

"Why can't I work here?" Remus asked, turning and admiring the room. "I need the money. Are you afraid I'd do something bad?" Remus looked over his shoulder to Roman. "Or are you afraid to let your friends know about me?" Roman's fingers dug into the sleeves of his leather jacket.

"I'm calling security," Roman huffed. He reached for his landline. Remus's pale, boney hand grabbed Roman's hand and pulled his back. Roman spun around, now standing face to face with Remus, his hand gripped between them.

"Imagine with me," Remus purred as Roman tried to pull his hand out of Remus's tight grip. He tried to pry Remus's fingers off, but Remus's other hand grabbed his free hand. "Your boss is in his office, doing paperwork or whatever pretty folk he pleases-"

"Ew!" Roman groaned.

"-and suddenly, he gets an email from deodoranteater73," Remus explained. "with the caption 'Roman Prince has lied to you!' He opens the email and sees everything he needs to know about you and me! Including-"

"Remus, you can't!" Roman begged.

"I easily can," Remus said. "Your boss deserves the truth." Remus let go of Roman's hands. His grip left red impressions on Roman's hands.

"I've already been punished for what happened!" Roman begged, nursing his sore hands. "You-you're better off now too, right? I mean, last month you left me a voicemail in the middle of the night talking about how happy you were!"

"To be fair, there's a solid week of that month I only remember in vague gestures," Remus admitted, flourishing his hands in the air.

"Why bring up the past?" Roman stammered. "Why wreck my life?"

"Wreck your life?" Remus said, hand to his chest, pinkish eyes softening for a moment. "No no no, is that why you think I'm here? I'm happy for you!"

"You just threatened to expose me!" Roman snapped.

"If I wanted to expose you, it would be a lot more hands-on," Remus giggled.

"You know what I mean!" Roman shouted. He froze, looking to the door. Did anyone hear that?

"Roman, Roman, Roman," Remus sighed, shaking his head. He walked back to the couch and sat down like a normal human being. "I hate the thought of you losing your job. It keeps me up at night thinking of it. You know me, you know I'm telling you the truth here. I may be a demented man, but even I despise some of my ideas. But the issue here is, I need money. I'm afraid my job isn't paying me enough to keep up with my rent. Do you want me to live on the street like an animal?"

"Let's be frank, you're Oscar the Grouch's long lost cousin," Roman grumbled, crossing his arms again.

"True, true," Remus admitted, nodding. "I'm going to keep cleaning this place whether you want me to or not. Frankly, it's a wonderful job for stinky fellows like me." Remus wiggled his eyebrows. "I just need some cash."

"Then get a job at McDonald's," Roman huffed. "Take up professional dumpster diving. You can't work here."

"I prefer to keep my dumpster diving as a hobby, thank you," Remus chuckled."You know what? As my brother, I'll make you a deal. You don't need to pay me for my cleaning services. It's an honor I'm more than happy to give to this hospital. Simply send me some cash every couple of weeks to help make my rent, and we can go about our lives as normal." Remus's face darkened, his Cheshire smile returning. An instinctive fear stirred in Roman's guts. "Neither of us want to ruin a good thing." Roman tightened his crossed arms.

"Are you blackmailing me?" Roman asked.

"You could call it that," Remus sighed, standing. "I'll give you some time to think it over. I'll treat you to some funny photos I found online when I get home. There's this great website I found full of old serial killer case files-"

"Out," Roman groaned. "Please."

"I'm done, I'm done," Remus laughed, walking to the door. "Make sure not to think about dismembered dog tails while I'm gone! Byeeeeeee!" Remus grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open. Virgil stood outside the room, hand raised, ready to knock. He froze in the doorway, staring at Remus with giant eyes.

"Remus?" Virgil gasped, eyes frozen.

"My dear old friend!" Remus exclaimed. He wrapped his arms around Virgil. The nurse yelped and squirmed away from Remus. He backed into the room and shot Roman an unsettling glare. "It's so nice to see you! I can’t believe I forgot you worked here!”

”This is who you ditched me for?” Virgil muttered, pointing a hand at Remus.

”I’m afraid I must be off,” Remus sighed. “I have many important things to do, important people to do. It was wonderful seeing you again, Virge. It was just like old times.” With that, Remus slipped out of the office, closing the door, leaving Roman and Virgil with his Cheshire smile. Roman collapsed onto his chair with a deep sigh.

”Why was he here?” Virgil snapped, pointing to the door. Roman thought carefully about his answer in the few seconds he had to answer. Did Virgil not know Roman was Remus's twin? Maybe his secret was still safe.

”He was asking for a job,” Roman sighed, frowning. “Don’t worry, I turned his resume down quickly.”

”Yeah, you might want to call security to make sure he leaves the hospital,” Virgil muttered. He took a seat on Roman’s couch.

”How do you know the man?” Roman asked as he pulled out his phone to text Nate.

”He...” Virgil sighed, tugging on the edges of his scrubs. “He was a janitor where I used to work. At... St. Gemma's. He always freaked me out."

"I can understand that," Roman scoffed. "I mean, I only met him once and I was half-way to calling Nate on him!" Roman prayed his acting skills wouldn't fail him. "Nevermind the crazy man, I assume you came up here for something. Unless you just missed me." Roman ruffled his hair and flashed Virgil a grin.

"Yeah, right," Virgil scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I wanted to show you something." Virgil reached into the pocket of his scrubs. He pulled out a folded piece of lined paper and tossed it at Roman's head. The paper fell onto his desk. Roman unfolded the paper. It was a sketch of a t-shirt. Inside the t-shirt was a stethoscope surrounded by the words 'Educated nurses save lives'. "Concept art for the t-shirt."

"I knew you'd come around!" Roman laughed, pushing down the pool of strange emotions his brother unearthed.

--------------------------------------

The window of Roman's office looked out over the Miami skyline. It wasn't a great window, barely big enough to crawl through to get to the fire escape outside, but it was enough to see the gorgeous view. The pulse of the city's night-time heroes raced through the blinking lights that covered the world. The city lit the clouds floating overhead that blocked the half-moon. The faint sounds of ambulances roaring into the ED broke through the window. Roman leaned on the windowsill, his red letter jacket pulled tight around his shoulders. He should have gone home an hour ago. He wasn't like Patton or Logan or Virgil- he didn't have to work through the night. He didn't work a 9 to 5 job, but his hours didn't extend far into the inky abyss of the night.

He leaned his phone against the warm glass. The harsh light glaring from his screen kept him alert. He scrolled through Instagram, but he wasn't really looking at anything. His thoughts were completely focused on his brother. Remus was often a man of empty threats, but he didn't lie. That was something Roman never understood about his brother- while he did so many horrid things, he never lied about doing any of it. What Roman wasn't sure of was whether his little story about sending Thomas an email was one of his empty threats. He just wanted cash. Was it worth losing Roman's job over? He couldn't give Remus a job in the hospital, could he? No. It wasn't safe for Remus to be around patients. Roman was smart enough to know that.

Roman wasn't poor anymore. Personally, he wouldn't describe himself as rich, but he didn't have student loans to pay off like his friends, and his job paid more than enough for Roman to live a comfortable life. Didn't family help each other through hard times? What was a bit of cash every couple of weeks compared to what Roman made? Remus's rent couldn't cost that much. It was a favor for his brother. But Roman knew better. He'd seen plenty of shows where someone was being blackmailed. The blackmailer would get greedy and demand more and more from their victim, and the victim would comply. Roman used to think they were stupid for getting blackmailed in the first place. He didn't think that anymore.

He took his phone off the windowsill and walked to his couch. The lights were off in his office, with only a sliver of light escaping from the hallway. The light of Roman's phone illuminated his uncharacteristically grave face. He pulled up his contact list and sent a text he knew he would regret.

ME: (sent 9:22 PM)

How much money do you need?

It only took a few minutes for Roman to get a response.

REMUS: (sent 9:26 PM)

I knew you'd come around! :D

Oh boy.

————————————————

Tag List-

@cocobearthe4th

[bensolotm]

✰ it’s time to wake up, PEETA MELLARK, you’ve been in cryosleep for too long and the people of THE HUNGER GAMES miss you. when you went into slumber you were TWENTY-FIVE years old, your pronouns are HE/HIM, and you VOLUNTEERED for the expanse program. now that you’ve awoken, your position as a BAKER is waiting for you. remember, the expanse thanks you! ( sophie, est, 24, she + her. josh hutcherson )

TW: mentions of violence, murder, death, attempted suicide, parental abuse, physical abuse, brainwashing

definitely hunger games spoilers

THE BASICS;

NAME: peeta mellark

ALIAS(ES): peeta

AGE: twenty-five

BIRTHDAY & ZODIAC: march 23

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: he + him

FACECLAIM: josh hutcherson

PERSONALITY: enfp. he’s charismatic, kind, gentle and people can’t help but be drawn to him. his personality helped him win over fans and sponsors during the hunger games - thus making him a bit cunning (as he used his charm to get what he wanted and help stop the hunger games). he’s been known to be quite bold, but don’t mistake his boldness with impulsiveness - peeta is everything but impulsive and rash.

A DEEPER LOOK;

BACKGROUND: peeta grew up in district 12, which is the smallest and poorest district in panem. panem is a sovereign state that was established after ecological disasters which brought about the collapse of modern civilization. panem is what is remaining of north america and consists of a federal district known as the capitol and thirteen outlying districts (districts 1-13). panem created something called the hunger games which started after the first rebellion and after the elimination of district thirteen. the games were designed to remind the people of panem what happened during/after the rebellion and to ensure that another rebellion doesn’t rise again. the hunger games happen every year and each district has one boy and one girl between the ages of sixteen and eighteen that are picked to partake in the hunger games; where they fight to their death. when winning a hunger games you are moved to the victor’s village to live out your days with fame and wealth, as well as a promise to not be reaped for another hunger games. peeta had a difficult life growing up. he was the youngest of three boys in the mellark family and worked as a baker in his parent’s bakery. his father was kind, but his mother had been known to beat peeta and his brothers if they made mistakes or misbehaved. that didn’t really stop peeta from doing a lot of things — like burning the bread on purpose so that he could give it to a starving girl and her family. this girl was katniss everdeen and peeta had been in love with her since before he could remember. the first moment she opened her mouth to sing in class he was hooked... but the two never spoke and peeta kept his crush to himself. during the 74th hunger games reaping, peeta’s name was picked from the bowl and he was chosen as a tribute for district 12. he stood along side katniss everdeen who volunteered after her sister’s, primrose, name had been picked. he met his family in the justice building and his father and brothers were distraught where as his mother made a comment about district finally having a victor — katniss everdeen. his mother never expected to see her youngest son again and she didn’t seem too bothered about that fact.  peeta boards a train with katniss to go to the capitol and that’s where he meets effie trinket, their escort and advisor (but moreso katniss’), and haymitch abernathy, their mentor. peeta and haymitch don’t hit it off so well in the beginning due to haymitch’s alcohol problem. it results in haymitch punching peeta in the face and katniss stabbing the wine bottle that is in between her and haymitch. katniss and peeta train together and are urged to stick together by haymitch’s wisdom... and despite katniss and peeta’s somewhat constant fighting. throughout his interviews for the hunger games he admits to caesar flickerman, and the rest of panem, that he is in love with katniss - which surprises everyone... including her. long story short the 74th hunger games end with peeta and katniss standing together as the last two remaining tributes - and the apparent victors as they hd changed the rules mid game to allow two victors. as katniss and peeta are standing there, the gamemaker’s voice echos through the arena and announces that the rule to allow two victors has been revoked and now only one victor may remain. not wanting to kill each other, katniss and peeta decide to commit suicide and are about to eat nightlock (a very poisonous berry), but right before they consume the berries, they’re announced as the first two victors in hunger games history.  living in the victor’s village was hard after peeta and katniss had a falling out due to katniss’ hesitance with her feelings for peeta. they spent months ignoring each other, but despite how hurt peeta is by katniss not reciprocating her feelings for him, he continues to perform and play the part of “star-crossed” lovers when in front of a camera during their victory tour. districts are outraged by the capitol and show signs of rebelling in front of peeta and katniss, which result in the capitol guards taking members of the districts and killing them in front of everyone as to show them what happens to traitors... but it only fuels the rebellion’s fire. now the 75th hunger games roll around which is also known as the third quarter quell. every twenty-five years, the president of panem selects a card from a box made during the original establishment of the hunger games that makes a change in the rules of the reapings. for the first quarter quell, or the 25th hunger games, each district had to choose the children who went into the arena. for the second quarter quell, or the 50th hunger games, twice as many tributes had to be reaped to go into the arena. for the third quarter quell, or the 75th hunger games, the tributes were reaped from the pool of existing victors. the victors were outraged as they were promised to never be reaped again, but this was also hard for katniss as she was the only female victor for district 12, which ensured her return to the hunger games. peeta and haymitch were the only two males and when haymitch’s name was picked from the bowl, peeta volunteered as tribute in his place. this hunger games end with katniss shooting an arrow up at the arena’s roof that has a bolt of lightning surging through it which causes a screeching halt to the 75th hunger games and causes the arena to collapse. in the mix of the chaos, the tributes are rescued from the arena by district thirteen, ran by president coin, who have been putting together a rebellion since the first rebellion. peeta is taken back to the capitol where he is brainwashed and used against katniss. during his captivity, he is beaten, tortured, and injected with tracker jacker venom which distorts his memories and allows the capitol to brainwash him into thinking katniss is out to kill him. the capitol uses him and puts him on the screen during interviews and to call for a ceasefire, the capitol hoping that katniss would listen to him. there are a total of three interviews and the last one takes place with caesar flickerman interviewing peeta giving another warning about a rebellious act from district thirteen. the interview is interrupted with footage of katniss and peeta remembers her. the interview ends with peeta warning katniss and district thirteen that the capitol is coming and that they’ll all be dead by morning. the footage is lost and the last thing seen is peeta being punched in the face by capitol guards. peeta is rescued from the capitol, but his memories of katniss are severely distorted and he attempts to strangle her thinking that she’s going to kill him. he becomes hysterical and unstable. peeta believes that katniss is responsible for the destruction of district 12 and the lives of its residents. he lashes out in uncharacteristic fits of rage, retreats into his own head, temporarily loses the power of speech, cannot differentiate between what is an illusion and what is reality, and at one point argues with himself in a fit of madness as if he is two different people. he is only allowed to be treated by people he never knew before as to minimize any harmful risks. peeta slowly gets better and his memories start coming back, but he has trouble differentiating from illusion or actual memories. he tells katniss that he remembers giving her the burnt bread, but the two continue to be harsh to one another. later on president coin constructs a team of special sharpshooters that contains katniss, peeta, gale, and finnick. he insists that the team leaves him in the capitol, but they all refuse. during this time he and katniss have a civil conversation. she later kisses him during an episode he has and it calms him down and reminds him of a time when he loved her.  on the day of president snow’s execution (for unleashing bombs on children), katniss kills president coin instead as she was the one who unleashed the bombs on the children, killing her sister primrose who was working as a medic. katniss goes back to district twelve and is marked mentally ill. peeta doesn’t return to district twelve until late after seeing someone to help him with his hijacking. when he returns to district twelve he has largely recovered from the hijacking, but still has flashbacks of the hijacking and usually clutches to something until it passes. in the meantime he plants a garden full of primrose flowers for katniss. peeta and katniss slowly start to find each other again.

KEY RELATIONSHIPS: katniss everdeen (love of his life), primrose everdeen (katniss’ sister, friend), finnick odair (friend), effie trinket (friend), haymitch abernathy (friend), president snow (enemy), president coin (enemy), caesar flickerman (enemy).

WEAPONS: none.

POWERS/ABILITIES/SKILLS: some skills of fighting from the hunger games, excellent painter and baker.

GREATEST STRENGTH: how kind and gentle he is.

GREATEST WEAKNESS/FLAW: the ptsd he gets from the hijacking and the hunger games.

OUTFIT THEY WOKE UP IN: casual clothing consisting of a somewhat nice, casual, jacket, jeans, boots, and a t-shirt.

FAVORITE FOOD: everything.

ONE FEAR: losing katniss

ONE HOPE: to live a happy life

ONE HEADCANON: he still suffers from his hijacking and has episodes where he shuts himself away for a period of time as they pass.

THE QUESTIONNAIRE;

How does your character feel about being dropped into the expanse program? Are they excited? Suspicious? Confused?

definitely suspicious. while he volunteered for the project, he’s afraid it’s going to turn out as another hunger games or that this is some weird trick from the capitol.

What does your character hope to see the most during the expanse 009’s journey?

when he calms down he would love to see other planets and what they have to offer.

If your character could bring one thing from home, what would it be?

katniss is the only thing that comes to mind — peeta doesn’t have much else.

[justsomekpopstuff]

Protest (Youngbin College!AU)

Requested by @jin-hua

Pairing: Youngbin x Reader

MASTERLIST: to find it, just look up “justsomekpopstuff masterlist” on my blog, since external links still are not fixed. It should be in there. Sorry about the inconvenience!

student: Kim Youngbin

major: political science

Youngbin from his freshmen yeah was considered a natural-born leader

and obviously he therefore became considered the “leader” of the campus

he was voted student body president his sophomore year

so clearly everyone thinks he is more than capable enough as a leader

he helps out every year at freshman orientation because he knows how scary it can be to move up to college

he wants to make sure all the lil freshmen coming in don’t freak out too much

recruited both Inseong and Dawon  to help out as well because they definitely have the personality to make the younger ones feel welcome

also called the “campus dad” due to his dad-like personality

can and will take care of every single person on campus that is younger than him

they are his children

he must protect

due to his leadership and public speaking skills, he obviously chose political science as his major

president of the debate team on campus

already has an internship lined up for him after graduation too

because of all this, he is a very big rule follower

he likes doing things by the book and keeping things in order

however, even he had to admit that there were certain things about the way the campus was run that he still didn’t like

but because he didn’t want to compromise his position or disrespect the dean of the campus

that was, of course, until he met

he was in his dorm when he got a call from the Dean of Student Affairs

the Dean told him that there was a person standing in front of the student union holding up a sign “Education is corrupt, reform NOW” 

the Dean asked him then to talk to the student and get them to leave peacefully because they were being a “disturbance”

he really couldn’t say no to them, so he sighed and accepted, closing his notes and leaving his dorm

as he walked over to the student union where this student was, he thought to himself

he thought...maybe....he didn’t really want to stop them

he wasn’t really a fan of how the education takes advantage of its students with very little reward

and after all, you had a right to protest and make your opinion known as a student

so who was he to tell you to stand down?

he made his way to the student union to see you, standing there very stoic by the entrance with your sign in hand, just like the dean had said

you looked so strong and confident, Youngbin could hear his heart begin to beat in his ears

he walked up to you sheepishly, hands hidden in his pockets which was very different from his usual professional-looking demeanor to stand in front of you

“So...hi...the Dean of Student Affairs asked me to see if you would be willing to stand down...maybe?” he asked quietly

“No”

your response had made his heart beat even faster

you responded so quickly and with such power that he barely had time to think of a response

“Um...may I ask why...you’re doing this?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” you asked him with a slightly sarcastic tone. “The university is demanding more from its students than it is returning. They say they are preparing us for the future and yet give us nothing in return. There is no assurance that what we do here is going to bring us any kind of luck in the real world. On top of that, most students are being forced to pay more money and take more credits than they can handle leaving thim exhausted and in debt, and yet the university just keeps asking for more. It is time for that to change. Education should not come at the cost of mental and monetary exhaustion. That’s just the facts”

Youngbin definitely knew you had a point, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he didn’t agree with you

you were proud and true to your word

you definitely had guts, and to be honest, stopping you was now the last thing that he wanted to do

however, he did make a commitment to the dean

so one last try was needed

“have you...tried talking to the dean...maybe?”

“i’ve tried to contact the dean every semester about changing the policy, and I have been ignored and blown off every single time. I’m done with not being listened to. Its time things changed, and I don’t care how long I have to stand out here until something does.”

“...Okay.”

Youngbin looked to your feet and saw extra signs sitting there, most likely made for other students that wished to join

he grabbed one that said something similar to yours and stood next to you quietly

“...What are you doing?” you asked

“Joining you. You have a good point, and I agree. And, if you cant beat them, join them”

“...aren’t you like, the head of student affairs or something?”

“your point being?” he looked at you with a questioning look on his face.

“...okay...”

the two of you stood there in confident silence, getting some looks from other students and faculty that passed by

that was, until an hour later when the campus police showed up and dragged the two of you to the dean of student affairs’ office

you two sat there in the uncomfortable chairs as the dean stared the two of you down with an angry look

the dean lectured the two of you for what felt like hours, talking about how inappropriate your actions were, and how they were especially disappointed in Youngbin, who was the leader of the campus

you honestly felt like you both were going to be suspended at the least

however, thankfully due to Youngbin’s position and good graces, the two of you were only sentenced to doing a work study in the student food court for two months, starting right after the both of you ended classes

the reasoning?

“maybe being an actual part of this campus will straighten you out”

you rolled your eyes once you were out of the office, but you had to admit you were glad you were not expelled

you were about to turn to Youngbin to talk to him when you heard the dean call him back into the office

you gave him a sorrowful look, and he gave you a look in return that told you he would be fine

you only hoped he was right

not wanting to be there for the aftermath, you went back to your dorm to get some rest before you had to start your sentence

the next day after your classes, you made your way to the restaurant you were assigned to work at

you met with the grumpy and tired looking manager as they gave you a rushed run through of the cafe, throwing an apron and hat at you before sticking you in front of a sink full of dishes

you sighed, knowing that you would be seeing this view for a while, and got to work

your silent labor, however, would be cut short because about an hour later, Youngbin was shoved in right next to you

“good to see you aren’t dead” you joked as he got to work on the other big stack of dishes 

“yeah, but I did get an extra earful of ‘you should be ashamed - a man of your position on campus?’ blah, blah, blah...” he trailed off as you chuckled

“well, you are their golden boy. They expect more from you than to ‘disobey the order’” 

“yeah, well sometimes the order needs to be changed. You said it yourself. Change has to happen eventually for the betterment of the campus. Sometimes it just takes on person to stand out”

“So what ended up happening?”

“Oh yeah they kicked me out of ASI for the rest of the semester”

you stopped and looked at him, feeling guilty that you had caused him to lose his position

“I am so sorry, this is all my fault...”

“I don’t regret it for a single second...and hey, they didn’t say anything about me re-running next semester” he smiled at you

“You sure this won’t like, throw your entire future out the window?”

“Even if it does, I still wouldn’t change a thing”

the two of you smiled at each other and got back to washing the dishes in a comfortable silence

It was pitch dark out by the time the two of you finished your work and were allowed to clock out

you were exhausted from standing all day and all you wanted to do was go back to your dorm and sleep for days - even though you had to repeat the same thing tomorrow

“Hey, its dark out, maybe I should accompany you back to your dorm?” Youngbin asked you

“If you want,” you replied

the two of you walked in silence again to the dorms, taking in the cool night air

“So, I was thinking...” Youngbin started as you began to near the buildings

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty cool, and you have a lot of good ideas...I’m interested in getting to know you some more...so maybe tomorrow, once we are done with our shift, we could, I don’t know...grab a late-night bite to eat? If you want...”

you chuckled as he slowly and awkwardly got his words out

“I would love to,” you smiled at him as the two of you reached your building’s doors

“Great,” Youngbin smiled at you. “It’s a date.”

“It certainly is”

needless to say, that night was the beginning of a very bright future for the two of you

Youngbin as a boyfriend is honestly a dream

like

he knows how to treat you RIGHT

he knows that you are passionate about respect and being treated as an equal

and he takes that into account regularly in your relationship, asking for your opinion on things and making sure he knows where your boundaries are

he trusts that you know how to take care of yourself

but there are still times when he will pamper you and take care of you

he also knows that if anyone wrongs him, you will have his back

and the person who wronged him will have to face your wrath

which is very comforting to him that he has a kick-ass s/o who can stand up for themselves

you and the boys lead the protest to get Youngbin back into ASI as the president

there’s flyers and banners and protests involved

and honestly he could feel the heart eyes intensifying

you found out that he had almost lost his internship due to the whole ASI thing

and you felt so guilty that you went down to the place to make a case for him 

needless to say they are now hiring both of you right after graduation

speaking of the boys

you become parent number 2 to the ragtag group

you make sure that they are being treated well and taking care of themselves

Youngbin also enlists your help to take care of the incoming freshman and make sure that they transition without too much trouble

you are essentially the campus power couple

and you wouldn’t have it any other way

[joannaofportugal]

JOANNA BRAGANZA // CHALLENGE 002

a series of songs that i think suit joanna’s character and lifestyle.. songs i may be found listening to when writing her voice, her mood, her actions.. some are based around relationships whereas others are simply self-monologues. 

oh sweet nuthin’ — the velvet underground // say a word for polly may, she can’t tell the night from the day, they threw her out in the street, but just like a cat she landed on her feet. 

the tune itself has a joanna-vibe to it, and the song oozes her troublesome nature but she has luck, and luck is one of the most important things to behold in the florentine courts. 

i know (feat. fiona apple) — king princess // and you can use my skin, to bury secrets in and i will settle you down. 

a sketch of an affair with a man who is in a committed relationship, joanna and her ambition to step on another person’s head just to get a title, recognition and at the least of it, stardom. 

like a girl — lizzo // woke up feelin’ like i just might run for president, even if there ain’t no precedent, switchin’ up the messaging. 

joanna is a rebellious girl in the year of 1455, a streak lost on history and covered by marriages and children. joanna isn’t about to let anyone stand on her. 

want you in my room — carly rae jepsen // on the bed, on the floor ( i want you in my room ) i don’t care anymore, i wanna do bad things to you. 

any empowering song can suit joanna, in a modern-day setting she would be the girl who’s all up in pop princesses, too. 

if you could know — shannon and the clams // where am i goin’? are we here? my brain’s overflowing, is filling with fear, i am not ready. 

a declaration of joanna’s immaturity and inexperience which may cause her to fail at the tasks she so badly wants to finish. 

harry — kelsy karter // i’ll treat you better than the girls you’re hangin’ out with, take you to heaven, and i’ll show you all around it, i’ll never ever let you down. 

immature as she is, joanna would also be the girl who begs for chances. to put her heart on the line, though everyone should know that her heart is beaten black and blue to protect it from heartbreak. 

motivation — normani // i’ma break you off, let me be your motivation, to stay and give it tonight, and, baby, turn around, let me give you innovation.

the same as above and the must is certainly something modern-day joanna would listen to. 

mother’s daughter — miley cyrus // must be something in the water or that i’m my mother’s daughter, don’t fuck with my freedom. 

one, she would be a cyrus fan. two, her mother is extremely important and will be famous throughout the coming years for her role in bearing many children for portugal, and supporting the country throughout it’s trials. joanna is proud to be her mother’s daughter. 

boyfriend — ariana grande // i know we be so complicated, but we be so smitten it’s crazy, i can’t have what i want, but neither can you. 

when joanna set her sights on the second prince of england she didn’t think about her family nor the relationship between england and portugal. the only thing she cares about, in all cases, is herself and so she only thought of how good they’d be together... rather than the case that’d bring both countries unsatisfied looks from the pope himself. 

don’t start now — dua lipa // if you don’t wanna see me dancing with somebody if you wanna believe that anything could stop me. 

no one can stop joanna’s path of destruction or ambition. that’s the message. 

now i’m in it — haim // i, i ‘can’t get a hold of myself. i can’t get outta this situation. 

everyone has times of doubt and joanna is no different despite her outward persona. for she sometimes finds herself wondering how to get out of bad mistakes. 

patricia — florence + the machine // you only take as much as you can grab with two hands, with your big heart, you praise go above. but how’s it working out for you, honey? do you feel loved? 

a letter to a lover who acts in moderation and practises chastity and charity. the differences between joanna and others. 

good looking — suki waterhouse // the skyline falls as i try to make sense of it all, i thought i’d uncovered your secrets but turns out there’s more. 

joanna finds love interests easy, for there is no secret to loving someone or becoming adored. though sometimes she finds it hard to unmask boys who pretend to be something they are not, and this is a song mixed in with confusion and a curious need. 

[flapperfromthefuture]

Michael, what have you done?

That’s what I keep asking him in my head. Because in my head, Michael and I have been friends my whole life. In my inner life’s landscape, he is as natural and enduring as Mickey Mouse or Winnie the Pooh or any person I’ve known so long I can’t remember ever meeting them. No one ever told me who Michael Jackson was. He was just always there.

You have to understand, Michael was the first music I ever heard. My mom listened to one tape, and one tape only, while she was pregnant with me, and that was Thriller.

The first sounds I ever heard in this world were my mother’s heartbeat, my parents’ voices, and Michael singing about monsters. How he was going to protect us from them. Ignore his glowing eyes and the chill in his voice as he says “I’m not like other guys.”

Was he daring us to truly see him the entire time?

Wade Robson says that Michael began his grooming process long before he or James Safechuck ever met him, because Michael groomed the entire world.

What chance did one little boy have against him? Or two little boys, or three or four or perhaps more—no, definitely more?

What chance did any of us have?

You have to understand, I was a child when Michael was everything. Everyone in the world loved him—the biggest stars right now have barely an ember of his star power.

Even E.T. and Kermit were stoked to meet him. Fred Astaire was in awe of his dancing. Princesses and presidents bowed down to him. When everyone from luminaries to little kids treats you like a god, what hope do you have of staying human?

  One day, we were dancing to Black or White in the living room at my friend’s house. My friend abruptly stopped dancing, ran to his mother in the kitchen and said, “Mom! If Dad dies, will you marry Michael Jackson?”

His mom laughed and said, “Sure, why not?” And my friend bopped happily back to his place in front of the altar to our hero and we danced to his song.

We were six.

Only now do I realize that he made that video—as a man in his 30s—with cameos from multiple children, including the most popular child star since Shirley Temple, the cartoon characters from every kid’s favorite TV show, and a child-friendly message of “It doesn’t matter what color your skin is! We can all dance together and turn into panthers!” rather than attempt a bolder, more artistically complex statement befitting someone of his talent and experience. Janelle Monae is the same age now and she’s been writing songs that run circles around Michael for years.

Did he ever truly care about his art? Or was it all calculated to appeal to children? To get him access to children?

One day, I was riding along in my babysitter’s car, listening to the Dangerous album. She knew everything about music. So she knew everything about Michael. She had Bad and Thriller ready for action, right in the front seat. I remember so clearly holding the Bad CD in one little hand, and Thriller in the other, and realizing for the first time, “He looks different.” But I never thought he looked like a different person. Even though his hair, his nose, his skin had completely changed, I could see the same soul across both faces.

At least, I thought I did. Now I think I imagined a spark in his eyes that was never truly there. But I was a child then, and Michael was just Michael. I’d known him for all seven years of my life, as long as I’d known anybody. Sure, I didn’t really know him, but that didn’t matter. I forgot about it a second later. It wasn’t worth thinking too hard about. Never even asked my babysitter to explain it, and I asked her to explain everything.

There was a song on Dangerous about a little girl who is murdered by an abusive guardian. Michael’s voice was so vivid and tender, even as he sang about the blood in the little girl’s hair. That song haunted me. I asked my babysitter to play it again and again.

I knew that children could be hurt by adults. When I was little, we were taught to be afraid of strangers and not walk anywhere by ourselves and never answer the door unless an adult was home. It was horrific and impossible to understand but always a lurking possibility that adults could hurt you. And I was glad that Michael was telling people about this.

Michael really cared about children, I thought. After all, he was friends with so many.

Wade was 5 when he won a dance contest in Australia, and first prize for being the best mini-Michael was to meet Michael himself. James was cast in a commercial at 9 where he wore Michael’s jackets and imitated his moves, and then after a camera crew came to his house to film an “audition tape” in his bedroom (for reasons never made clear to his mother, but she didn’t seem to mind), he was invited to join the Bad tour, and dance with Michael on stage every night.

Watching this little boy bound on stage, in front of thousands of screaming fans, and dance with all the confidence and joy in the world, as his shattered adult self wistfully narrates how much fun he had, made me cry for both of them.

Michael took all these luminous children and turned them into broken adults.

Was it some way of molding them into mini-Michaels forever?

They were so small.

When you’re a child, you don’t understand how small you truly are.

When Michael died, I cried for him. I’ve loved his music since before I knew what music was. I’ve spent hours watching his videos, documentaries, concerts. I’ve obsessed over his spins, his steps, the way he winks in Smooth Criminal, the way he snaps his fingers in the The Way You Make Me Feel.  He’d gotten me through bad days at school, stress and sadness, a secret friend in my ear always eager to cheer me up. When my sister had to have cardiac surgery as a teenager, I spent twelve hours in the waiting room reading an 832-page biography on Michael. The only thing big enough to distract me from absolute crushing fear was him.

Stella and I got Mexican food and watched his funeral live on CNN. We cried for his children. They’ll never get to truly know him, we said.

Now I have to hope that he died before either of his sons reached his target age range.

After he died, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. What he could have accomplished if it weren’t for all the drama dragging him down in the last half of his life.

What he would’ve looked like if he’d been able to stand his own face.

What he could have done if he’d just gotten a good therapist and cut ties with his family and the hangers-on who kept turning on him for a payout.

Oh, yes, I believed that lie too. I mean, it had been fed to me since I was eight. Of course there are people out there who will lie that the worst crime has been committed against their child and willfully drag that child through the legal system and the 24/7 media spotlight and a lifetime of “Hey, weren’t you that kid . . .” just for a shot at a few bucks.

That makes total sense.

Why did it ever make sense?

After he died, I spent hours watching old videos and interviews and long story short, I took 255 screenshots and saved them to a file on my computer. I never looked at them again, so I don’t know why I needed to save them.

It started out as just wanting to find a good picture of him smiling—really smiling, not just posing or performing, but holding a genuine, human smile. Turned out, that was hard to find.

How sad, I thought. For all of his money and fame and accomplishments, he knew such little real happiness in his life. He always had to be “on.” He was so lonely, with no one who ever loved him for himself, but that was his sacrifice to make us all happy.

That’s what he told us.

Those boys loved him. Those boys still love him. James says that he feels guilty, still, for letting Michael down.

Everyone let James down, but no, he blames himself. It wasn’t his fault. It’s never any child’s fault, but he’s spent his entire life blaming himself. That’s what Michael trained him to do. That’s what this abuse does to you. It corrupts the very wiring of your brain.

Wade says that for him to understand that he was abused meant questioning everything that had ever happened to him from the age of 5, from his love of dance to the break-up of his family to his livelihood as an adult.  It takes decades to understand and even longer to accept that your whole childhood was a lie.

“Michael was good. That was all that existed in my mind,” he says.

Michael willfully destroyed Wade’s childhood and his family. James will spend the rest of his life putting himself back together. And they still loved him. So many people still love him. But they don’t matter. What matters is that Wade and James are telling the truth. And people are listening. We’ve lost our friend, for real this time—because not even death could truly take him, not when his music plays somewhere every minute—and we have to accept, at long last, that what we felt for him was genuine, but he never was.

Before I deleted my file of Michael’s pictures, I went through them all first, one by one, but I never found that human smile. Just hundreds of shifting masks and hollow eyes with all the glow extinguished.

  Our Friend Michael, the Monster Michael, what have you done? That's what I keep asking him in my head. Because in my head, Michael and I have been friends my whole life.