#weasly wednesday

[xxluna-rougexx]

I'm going to start posting on Tumblr. Always lurking, never posting, until now.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Jealous, Jealous, Jealous girl - Ron Weasley

summary: Lavender won't stop flirting with your boyfriend, but he won't tell her off because he's loving the PDA coming from you. You can't stand it, so you show her who he belongs to. warnings: smut, handjob, exhibitionism, (semi) public sex

She's gone crazy.

What was going through her head when she threw herself onto him and pulled him in such a tight hug? Did she not see you, standing just feet away from him, about to give him a kiss for his success? You could see the shock and confusion on his face, arms by his side as he ran the situation in his head, refusing to return her hug.

From beside you, you heard Fred and George gasping and murmuring some "She's dead" and "Good luck to her" when they saw the look on your face.

Just the other day she sat at your potions table, listening as you told Hermione how well your relationship was going. She saw the way he wrapped his arm around your shoulder when class finally ended, guiding you to your next one.

And now she's the one with her arms around him.

Ron attempts to push her away slowly, separating himself from the hug, but you don't acknowledge him as he walks towards you, rather giving Lavender a death stare before turning to your boyfriend and returning the kiss he leans in for.

You can feel her eyes on you as you press yourself further into him, going onto your tiptoes as you reach your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss by slipping your tongue into his mouth to meet his, intertwining yourselves into a passionate kiss. When you separate, you're both panting for air, and Ron's big hands are gripping the curve of your ass, one of his hands moving up to caress your waist.

You're still holding him close, a manicured hand moving down his neck to run down his chest and you giggle when you see the look of amazement on Ron's face. It was clear he was only expecting that from you behind closed doors.

"Congrats on your win baby." You whisper, and Ron leans in again, stealing a quick kiss from you before giggling and pulling away from you, receiving pats on the back from his older brothers who wink at you when you walk away. You wipe your bottom lip from the smudged lip gloss and make eye contact with Lavender, whose eyes were still glued to you, and you tilt your head, smiling kindly at her.

It wasn't until the day after, when you sat with your friends at the Gryffindor table that you understood that this 'game' Lavender was playing was only just starting. You brought your mug to your lips, lightly blowing on it before taking a sip when Lavender walked behind your boyfriend, clasping a hand on his shoulder and giving him a flirtatious smile when he turned around before walking off. His lip curled upwards in disgust and you slowly swallowed your tea as your eyes followed the strawberry blonde.

You didn't bother reacting to her, even as she stared at you with a satisfied smirk on her face, which started to falter at the unfazed look on your face.

"Darling, are you done?" Your head snapped back towards your boyfriend and you nodded, standing up in sync to walk to class. When you stood side by side, you let Ron take your book bag off your shoulder to sling it over his as you took his free hand, intertwining your fingers together.

You could see Ron open and shut his mouth several times from the corner of your eye, as though contemplating if he should say anything about the situation. Deciding against it, he walked into the classroom and pulled a chair out for you as he sat next to you. He opened his textbook, placing his wand on the edge of his desk when he felt your hand on his thigh. You could see his cheeks turn pink as your second hand came up to straighten up his tie.

"Everything alright love?" He asked and you nodded, your hand coming up from his thigh to rest on his shoulder. Leaning close to him until your face was mere inches from his, you whisper into his ear with a sultry tone "You don't have any plans for your free period after this, do you?" With Ron's gaze looking down, you squeeze your thighs together to make sure he gets the message. He shakes his head frantically as his hand comes down on your thigh, looking up to make sure no one is looking at your private exchange.

But someone is.

Lavender, now seated in the front of the class, is turned around in her chair to speak to her friend behind her, yet her eyes are locked on you and your boyfriend. He sighs, his hand lying still on your thigh, but he faces the front, ignoring the way she leans towards her friend to point you both out to her.

For some reason, Ron can't pay attention to McGonagall as she explains another spell, a million thoughts racing through his mind. Usually, he was the one who tried dragging you into his dorm during your free periods and you always fretted that one of his dorm mates would walk in on you, even as he laid on top of you and pressed kisses onto your body. Normally, he boldly kissed you in front of your friends in the common room, only to pull away and find you rosy-cheeked with your head turned away in embarrassment. Never in your relationship had you been the one with wandering hands, suggesting you ditch everything at hand to find an empty space to fuck while you could.

It was all because of her.

And as much as he hated her, God he was so grateful.

Having you express your possessiveness over him was igniting a kind of fire in his belly, and he would take your displays of affection towards him any day, anywhere. That's why he mindlessly let you guide him through the halls at the end of class, his eyes glued to you as his hand clutched yours tightly. He paid little attention to the wavy haired strawberry blonde who followed you, having seemingly ditched her friend to isolate the three of you and confront you.

Lavender stopped abruptly when she saw you heading into one of the small secluded study rooms deep within the Gryffindor common room, leaving the door open behind you, allowing her a full view of you pushing Ron against the wall and connecting your lips to his. She wavered in the doorway, looking through the small gap as you pressed your body to Ron's, one of his moans filling the air.

Your hands wandered down Ron's body until you reached his belt and you paused momentarily, looking into his eyes for any signs of discomfort, but all you got from him was a pleading "Baby, please."

You started unbuckling Ron's belt and he whimpered, pushing his hips against yours and leaning down to reconnect your lips in a desperate kiss. Once Ron was freed from the restraints of him belt, you reached your hand in his underwear to wrap around his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum from the tip. Ron separated from the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours and he let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping your hips as he let quiet moans out.

You spread his pre-cum around his dick, starting to move your hand slowly up and down his shaft and squeezing him at the base only for him to cry out in pleasure as one of his hands came up to lace itself in your hair. You gasped when he pulled your hair, looking up at him, mouth agape and eyes shut as his head leaned against the wall. Giggling, you looked down at his thick cock in your hand, his tip red and leaking pre-cum, so you brought your hand up to squeeze it, then smoothly ran your fingers across the top of it. Ron shuddered, his hips bucking in your hand uncontrollably and you sped your hand up, leaning into him to whisper words of praise.

"Come on baby, you're doing so good for me.

Why don't you come for me?

Be a good boy and come for me, then you can do whatever you want to me."

Ron gruntled, letting out a strangled moan as his hips humped into your hand a few more times, white ropes of cum shooting onto his crisp white shirt in long spurts.

You continued stroking him so he could ride out his orgasm until he started catching his breath, his clammy hands coming up to cup your face and pull you into another kiss. When you pulled away, he was grinning boyishly at you, and he glanced down to see the mess you created, raising his eyebrows at you.

When he looked back up though, he caught Lavender's eye in the doorway and shook his head. You followed his gaze and smirked, looking back at him to say "She just can't get enough, can she?"

Ron chuckled, putting his hands on your hips to spin you around to face the doorway and started undoing the buttons of your trousers. "Yeah, well why don't we show her who I belong to huh?" He teases, his fingers trailing under your panties, immediately finding your clit.

You moan, throwing your head back onto his shoulder and nod as his fingers find their way inside you and Lavender turns red in the doorway, frozen in place.

She doesn't know if she wants to be you or be with you.

[rae-pottah]

Don't Trust a Malfoy (pt. 1)

Fandom: Take a guess (Harry Potter)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Reader

Y/n = your name

Warnings: they/them pronouns, trauma, bad parenting, (your probably used to both if you're reading this) ( that was a joke don't take offense), events are taken out of order from the story, shitty writing. Some People Live (Lemme know if I missed anything)

Noises are in a bigger font

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

*Y/n's POV*

I never understood why I was treated so differently, nor why only the house elves took care of me, and why my 'family' treated me like I owed them. Only my mother and my brother showed any sort of love or kindness towards me, behind my father's back of course. My mother did love me but she only ever showed it by quick looks of "I'm sorry", my brother a like, just before punishments came, mostly for whats happening currently.

WOOSH, you can hear the wind blowing as the three of us blow by on our brooms escaping Filch and his demon cat. We had set dung bombs to explode as soon as he opened his door, then glitter cannons going off after he's covered

"And that'll be a detention for the three of us after he's cleaned" I say as I look to my best friends in the entire world, without them, I wouldn't be able to get through life at home.

"He can't give us detention if he can't catch us" Fred starts, shrugging, throwing his hands to the sides of his head

"Besides, it'd be McGonagall who would be given us our punishments" George continues pointing a finger at me to set his point

"Yeah-yeah, you boys are going to get me in trouble again" I say with a grin as we all sit down in the gryffindor common room, hoping for a laugh... I don't get one. With solemn faces Fred speaks up

"I hope it wasn't too bad this summer" he asks, I pick at my fingers and look at the ground

"It wasn't that bad, little bit here and there nothin' awful, anyway how was your summer" I say quickly trying to change the subject. Fred gives me a strict look as if to say 'don't lie to me' but George carries on.

"Oh rather fun actually, our brother Charlie came home for a week or so durin' summer so he- " he rambled on with Fred when our little heroic trio (a name I used for them often) walked in

"Harry! Hermione! Ronni!" A year younger than us but they were all like my little siblings

"Y/n!" They all yelled as they piled on top of me

"How is my little heroic trio, how was your summer"

"Fine, I heard you three started the year off with a bang" Harry said sending all five of them into laugher

"Well what more could you expect from us?" I ask

"Mm" Ron pretends to think "how about Snape next?" Making George and Fred stand up

"Oh we tried"

"But oh no that's not allowed, tell them to say the word and we could-"

"Nope! No real teachers!" I end it there

--

*Fred's POV*

Everything seemed fine but the way they deforested my question earlier made me uneasy. I hope one day they can get out, on good terms.

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

*Y/n's POV*

There had been an incident, you-know-who got hurt Mr. Weasley, all the Weasley kids including Hermione and Harry were called to Dumbledore's office, well, I was dragged by Fred and George.

"Wh- Fred, what's happening?" I ask confusedly

"Dad's been hurt" I stayed quiet and ran with him wherever he went, they needed me, if they didn't I wouldn't be out of bed, so I ran

--

All of them were to be sent back to twelve Grimmauld place, I looked at all of them and said

"Be safe"

"And why would you be saying your goodbyes (ms./mr./mx.) Malfoy? You're going with them." Dumbledore said lowly, with wide eyes I start

"But my-"

"No need to worry about that, I've taken care of that"

"Do they-" I start again only to be cut off again

"I've informed them yes"

And so we were off to Grimmauld place

-------

Part 2

[midnightmoonytales]

Hello, little haunts!! I promise I’m not dead- I feel like it but I’m not. College has started back up and I already want to drop out- but I won’t. Instead, imma spend my horrible time management on working on content for you all amazing people when I’m not busy with homework. In the time I’ve been away I’ve gathered docs full of content that has to be re-written and edited but it will be coming out. Im not giving myself a time marker on this bc if I do - I simply ain’t gonna wanna do it. Fuck deadlines - anyways be on the lookout I adore you all 🖤

[beansnsoup]

you’re not shadowbanned i can see you in the tags

YAYYYYY, I AM STILL TAKING REQUESTS ATM, SEND EM IN!! I LOVE WRITING FOR YALL

[alwaysthegeorges]

alwaysthegeorges author’s favs list

my list of written works i’ve read that i absolutely love and want to make sure i can find again. this list is also for making it easier to share beautiful works that deserve more than just a reblog :) <3 enjoy

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Julie and the Phantoms Universe

unnamed juke fic by @molinapattersons​

-

Harry Potter Universe

save me till the party is over by @confused-pyramid

her pleasure by @phuckinphia

rough by @earlgreydream

unnamed draco fic by @hpimaginesandblurbs

unnamed ron fic by @hpimaginesandblurbs

future trophy wife by @lumosandnoxwriting

colors by @aproseofroses

unnamed george weasley fic by @fweasleyswhore

between belfast and cardiff | d.m. x reader by @prsfphone​

-

Tom Holland/Peter Parker

anything by @duskholland (but especially the mob!tom stuff and the fame game series)

anything by @myfictionaldreams (especially the kinktober masterlist)

couldn’t help myself. by @ohcaptains it’s so good I’m not sorry

-

Wednesday Universe (Xavier Thorpe)

something about you by @demcgorgons​​

girl in the painting by @fanficimagery​

​i don’t want you like a best friend by @sourcherryandsprinkles​

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to be continued...

[wildfire317s-oc-box]

My nicknames for the demon slayer / kny characters (probably gonna be edited as time goes on):

Tanjiro: checkers, fox-cub, country bumpkin #1, cannon-ball, simba, glitched eevee

Nezuko: dynamite, foxlette, bunny-rabbit, local cleric

Zenitsu: bug-zapper, sparky, thunder, lightning bolt, zen-, simp lord, timone, pikachu

Inosuke: piggu, oinker, boar-boy, country bumpkin #2, mankey, pumba

Murata: squeaker, lucky clover, mister nine lives

Genya: fluff-ball, grumpy gills junior, half 'n' half, hyena-boy, beastie

Kanao: lucky-flip

Aoi: lapis, sky blue

Sabito: sabi-, fire fox, soggy/sabi-fox, fox-boy, the ginger, local red-head, short-stack, short-king, secret weasly

Makomo: momo-chan, sky-fox, quick-silver, shorty, daisy-chain

Giyuu: shadow, shadow-fox, fox-fox, espresso-depresso

Urokodaki: fox-dad, old man river

Kyojuro: Ren-, K(i)yo, Phoenix, fire-chicken, owl boy, (my apologies in advance) donut man

Shinjuro: mega butt-lord, maltov, head-butt practice, gunpowder fuse

Senjuro: owlet, Sen-, baby-phoenix, sweet bean

Kanae: monarch, lilac, sweet one

Shinobu: lavender, butterfly, grumpy one, chihuahua

Sanemi: feral-ass, gremlin man, feral pomeranian, cottonheaded ninimuggins, cotton poof, grumpy gills senior, shouty mc-lionmane the second (the original being nishiki from tokyo ghoul), deranged dandelion, dunkass

Uzui: loud-mouth, gaston knock-off, bastard ass, obnoxious mf, tryhard ninja, man-hoe, rich prick, pickpocket-bait, spoiled jackass, captain crack-head, testiclies high dumbass of testosterone

Muichiro: Mui-, -chiro, misty, cloudy-boy, spacer, space-cadet, pedo-buster, smol-bean

Mitsuri: love-bug, melon-stripes, best-girl (of the humans), cat-girl, sweet-girl

Iguro: snek, sneky-snek, snake-boy, snake-charmer, zebra-stripes, duo-chrome, dress boy (you all know the dress i mean if you look at his entire color-palette), icyhot, sneaky simp

Gyomei: gentle giant, beastie-tree, tibetin-mastiff, the tall one, prayer beads, mister budda beads

Kaigaku: Kai-, evil-sparky, local rogue, invert-color-zenitsu, black-lightning, gender-bent azula, tiger-cub

Kokushibo/mitchikatsu: koku-, mitchi-, -shibo, sixer, moony, Kaigaku's dad, ponytail

Douma: frosty, blondie, ink-splat, great-dane, daki & gyutaro's dad, rainbow-brain, lounge-lion, kaleidoscope eyes

Akaza/Hakuji: cat-boy, tabby-stripe, raging-bisexual, pinky, -kaza

Nakime: Naki, rapunzel, mademoiselle noir, Naki-nak's

Hantengu: -tengu, murder-hobo, bird-brain, lord of bullshitery, han-, mousey

Gyokko: shape of water, fish for brains, dollar-store axolotl, house-plant, shitty-wizard, pedo-fish, off brand anish kapoor

Daki: material-girl, alt-timeline barbie (if you know you know), miss wears pink on wednesdays

Gyutaro: pretty paint-splatter boy, cutie-spots, pretty pretty gyutaro, floofy-hair, sharky, snarky-shark, gyu-, taro-taro, hyena-shark, hyena-man, mantis, floof-floof-cotton-poof, paint/ink splatter cutie

Enmu: enmu the tank engine, train-boy, emu, goat-eyes, (^w^)/OwO face, crazy-train, (in reference to his disembodied hand alone) off brand thing, HMS (his majesty's simp), the OwO translator

Ubume: n/a

Rokuro: geode, lower moon dad 2, rock-uro

Hairo: grouchy wolf, grumpy guns, dollar store cowboy

Wakuraba: elf-ears, off-brand legolas

Mukago: fuzzball, whiskers, fluffy-horns

Rui: spidy, spider-boy, ru-ru, rui-ru, web-slinger, tiny bean, smol gremlin, precious pain in the ass, adorable lil shit, squishy, squishy-cheeks, raging ball of white fluff, spidy/spider-paws

Kamanue: baby-dragon, kama-kama, kama, nue

Kyogai: tiger-stripes, tiger, kyo-, looks like a dad (not even kidding he looks very similar to my actual dad just put a goatee on him), mister its a kilt, captain funky music, big drummer-boy, lower moon dad 1

Tamayo: tama-san, tama-tama, the science queen

Yushiro: bratty-cat, simp king

Susumaru: maru, susu, maru-chan

Yahaba: triple a, mister hand-eye coordination, off brand death the kid

[wazjunz]

Cult of the Mongoose  (Chapter 1)

“Dude… is he talking to his sandwich!?”

Raymond stole a glance at the boy beside him. Sam was small, even for a Year Eight. He had pale, sandy, nothing-coloured hair, mousey features, bony shoulders and tiny arms. And yes. As the older kid across the walkway has just pointed out, it did look a lot like he was whispering to his lunch. The older boy and his friend were only a few metres away, sitting on a bench on the other side of the concrete walkway connecting the Art department from English, but Sam seemed not to hear the comment. The small boy continued chewing; his cheese sandwich held close to his face. He chewed with his lips slightly open, and kept his eyes locked firmly on the sandwich, his eyebrows would raise and fall as he chewed.

“Oh my God, I think he is,” the older boy continued.

His friend shook his head and laughed. Raymond felt very vulnerable, dreading that the older boys would turn their attention to him next. Raymond put a lot of effort into being invisible, and he suddenly felt more exposed than usual. After waiting long enough that it wouldn’t seem like he had been scared off by the older boys’ comments, Raymond mumbled a goodbye to Sam and walked quickly away. Sam didn’t look up from his sandwich.

Raymond checked his watch. Damn it. He’d planned on spending longer with Sam before moving on. Sam sat alone in a quieter area, and was happy with almost no conversation, so Raymond could kill almost 20 minutes with Sam sometimes before he got too nervous and moved on. There was still forty minutes before Lunch ended. Most days Raymond could secure his favourite spot in the library before anyone else got there. There was a small corner with a low armchair, hidden between shelves, where he could hide out completely alone for an entire recess or lunch if he got there first, but today was a Wednesday. On Wednesdays before lunch he had Drama. Drama was in a demountable way out the back of the school and as far from the library as you could get. Today, by the time he got to his safe chair a couple of Year Tens were crammed into it, giggling and poking one-another while their Group slumped on the floor in the surrounding aisles, smirking knowingly, rolling their eyes at one another.

As he passed the Library doors Raymond considered checking his spot again, but he couldn’t risk it. If the Group hadn’t moved on they might spot him lurking again and call him a stalker, or worse, a Nigel. As in ‘Nigel-no friends’. Raymond put his head down and walked quickly through the crowd in the main quadrangle, past the snaking canteen lines, and out a side gate towards the basketball courts. Raymond didn’t like going near the basketball courts. That was where the second most intimidating group of Year Nines hung out. It was their Area. All the Groups had an Area. The basketball court was the sporty/ tough Year Nine’s Area. They were the biggest Group in Year Nine. The group consisted of two Sub-Groups. The sporty kids (identified more by their running shoes and Adidas track pants than actual sporting ability) and the tough kids, who liked to cultivate an air of delinquency, without ever actually getting into much trouble. The more affluent sporty kids enjoyed the danger and protection of the tougher sub-group, while the tougher sub-group used the prestige of the sporty kids to keep them from being identified with the socially undesirable ‘Dero’ group- who got in actual trouble.

Raymond was equally terrified by both basketball court Sub-Groups, so before he got too close to the courts he jogged down a slight hill to two demountables on the edge of the oval. The eroded, grassless patch of dirt between the demountables was one of his emergency, temporary back up havens when his spot in the library got taken. This was Gumbum’s Area.

Gumbum’s real name wasn’t Gumbum, but it was what everyone called him. Gumbum was bigger and louder than the most confident Year 12, but not for any reason that anyone could figure out. He was shaped like a giant bowling pin, and moved like a T-rex. He had a meaty butt and legs, but stood with a slouch that made his shoulders look disproportionately small. The entire Year thought he was an idiot, and not without justification. Gumbum found himself very funny, and cracked jokes and laughed loudly at himself during class. Often the jokes were references to some wierd Japanese animation series that no one else had seen. Every single one fell flat. Gumbum was permanently unfazed though, and either didn’t mind or didn’t notice that his company was seen as social suicide by his entire year group. Without friends his own age, Gumbum simply found like-minded weirdos from younger Years, and cavorted with them joyously in this strange Area between the demountables. Gumbum was a semi-safe ally for Raymond for two reasons. Firstly, because most other Year Nines gave him a wide berth, Raymond was usualy safe from bumping into anyone scary while in Gumbum’s proximity. Secondly, Gumbum was so big and loud, and unashamedly dorky, that Raymond felt that if he was spotted with him he might look vaguely normal in comparison.

Raymond heard Gumbum laughing like an excitable fog horn before he rounded the corner of the first demountable. The man-sized 14-year-old had two Year Seven boys clinging onto each of his legs, and one on each arm, while a weasly-looking Year 8 threw popcorn into his open, guffawing mouth. It was unclear what exactly the game was or how it hard started, but it was exactly the sort of thing Gumbum and his tiny friends seemed to be doing all the time. Raymond leaned awkwardly against the side of the demountable out of the way of the action. He tried not to smile, but the sight was pretty great. Gumbum had stumbled under the weight of the tiny Year Sevens and had one smooshed up agianst the demoutnable wall squealing, while the rest still clung on giddily. The Year Eight continued hocking handfuls of popcorn into Gumbum’s snapping jaws. Suddenly Gumbum threw his head back, spraying popcorn kernels into the air. “THIS. ENDS. NOOOOOOW!”, he yelled to the sky. Year sevens were suddenly flying off his thrashing limbs, crashing to the rocky ground, gasping with pain and laughter. Gumbum turned and saw Raymond standing awkwardly near the corner of the demountable.

“Oh, Hello Raymond,” he said.

Gumbum made a point of knowing the name of every Year Nine, and a good smattering of the older and younger students’ names. He would use everyone’s names like they were close friends, much to the discomfort of his peers, who didn’t like the implication that they were on speaking terms with the most obvious weirdo in the year. Another reason Raymond sometimes sought out Gumbum in a pinch was that, just like Sam, hanging out with Gumbum meant Raymond barely had to say a word, although (very much unlike Sam) this was because Gumbum never shut up. Gumbum had figured out at some point that Raymond watched Dragon Ball Z, so whenever they crossed paths he would launch quickly into long monologues about hypothetical fights between characters and intricate plot points he had important thoughts about. Having a loud conversation outing him as a Dragon Ball Z watching type was not something that appealed to Raymond at all in the hallways and classrooms generally, but in the near-panic of a library-less lunch time, and in the relative safety between the demountables next to the oval it was a trusty way to eat up some time. Today even that fallback was ruined though. Gumbum had barely started ramping up when a basketball slammed into the wall above their heads and flumped to the dirt near his feet. Gumbum jumped to pick it up and walked out from between the buildings to hand it to an exercise flushed Year nine girl chasing it down the hill.

“Here you go Kellie!,” he said.

Raymond looked at his feet and slid his back along the wall, trying to blend in to the shadows as the girl approached, but he saw her see him, her eyes flicking momentarily between him and Gumbum. She took the ball quickly, forcing a polite smile from the corners of her mouth, before sprinting back up the hill to her friends.

“See you Kellie!” Gumbum called after her.

Spooked, Raymond half raised his hand to Gumbum in a tiny wave, and mumbled “OK, seeya man,” before striding quickly back toward the main school buildings.

Raymond checked his watch again. Only ten minutes had passed since he left Sam. He still had 30 minutes to kill. There was nowhere to sit and hide on his own without it being obvious he was alone, but he could only do so many laps of the school without that looking weird. He had one more option, but it wasn’t one he liked. He took the longest path he could to stairwell near the Art block, walking as slowly as possible without it looking like he was walking slower than a non-weird person would walk.

The entire school, (with the exception a couple of newer buildings) was carpeted in old frayed astroturf coloured carpet. The strairway leading up to the Art classrooms had the added affect of being speckled with droplets of old paint and stomped bits of clay that couldn’t be cleaned out, making it look like a slime clogged waterfall. The stairway changed directions half-way up, where a wobbly old table lived in the corner next to a window peeling with year’s old red and black paint. The table was Ryan’s spot. The corridor at the top of the stairwell was claimed by another large group of Year Nines, somewhere around the middle of the social ladder, running a distant third behind the Populars and the Sport/Tough Groups. Ryan was probably technically part of that group, but his arrogance and moodiness meant that as often as not he put himself in self-imposed, attention seeking exile on the wobbly desk in the stairwell, rather than deigning to hang out with lower life forms. This set up worked well enough for Raymond as Ryan’s volatile moods kept others away, and made him ill-disposed to making jokes and small talk, which Raymond’s panic stricken brain struggled to keep up with.

The other good thing about Ryan was his MP3 player. He had the only one in school. It was white with a greenish backlight and circular touch dial that let you scroll through songs, and the songs were good. Sometimes, rarely, Ryan would let Raymond take an ear bud and listen to half a song. Once he let him have both headphones and scroll through the tracks himself. Ryan was smart and he had cool and interesting taste in music. Unfortunately he was also pretty much one hundred percent not a nice person. Ryan had something mean to say about everyone and everything. He wore a permanent scowl and was always picking at his fingernails like he was punishing them for something. He was also incredibly moody, and could switch from having an interesting conversation to insulting your mum without warning or reason. Raymond found the fact that Ryan already acted like he hated him oddly comforting, but spending more than a few minutes with Ryan always felt odd and uncomfortable. Raymond approached Ryan and leaned on the window with his shoulder. Ryan looked up and pulled out one of his earbuds.

“What.” He said.

“Nah, nothing,” Raymond mumbled. “What you listening to?” Ryan sighed dramatically.

“The Swerves” he said.

“Oh cool. I haven’t heard of them.” Raymond replied.

“Why did you say they’re cool then?”

“Oh, I dunno. The name sounds cool…”

“Uh-huh.”

Ryan stared at Raymond with his ice blue eyes, eyebrows raised.

“How many songs can you get on there?,” Raymond asked.

Ryan rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

“Maybe like 50. I dunno, depends on the songs.”

“Cool. That’s pretty cool. That’s like three or four full albums.”

“Yep. I guess.”

Another awkward silence ensued.

“Is that all?” Ryan said abruptlky. “Like, did you want something or did you just come up here to stand there like a weirdo and tell me you like my MP3 player?”

“Oh, yeah. No. Anyway. Seeya.” Raymond replied, starting to move away back down the stairs.

“Ok. bye. Die in fire,” Ryan said in pretend cheerfulness to Raymonds back.

Ryan said that to everyone. It was like his stand in for any normal phrase he didn’t feel like saying, and he seemed to drop it almost without realizing. Once he said it to a teacher, almost certainly by accident, but he got in big trouble. By Ryan standards the conversation had been a mild success, but it hadn’t taken much time. Raymond checked his watch again. With 15 long minutes still to kill and no other loner allies to visit Raymond did the only thing he could think of and headed back towards the library.

Recently Raymond had started to feel as though he could sense when his Spot was taken and when it was free. As he neared the library he got a hopeful feeling in his stomach and tentatively started to believe that he might get 15 minutes of safe time in his spot with a pile of books before the bell rang for fifth period. He dodged a screaming group of Year Sevens and slipped through the heavy swinging door into the relative quiet. The library was split into three levels. The ground floor was shaped like a big square with the middle cut out. To Raymond’s right and behind him was the borrowing counter, and staff area. The rest of the square was ringed with clumps of desks with four or five chairs grouped around them, and the walls were covered with laminated posters that looked like they’d gone up when she school was built 30 years before. A few groups of students sat at some of the tables. This area was brightly lit by fluorescent lights. In the centre of this square the floor dropped downa couple of metres, making a sort of sunken area ringed by large steps that could double as a sort of in door ampitheatre for classes or presentations. Technically book-wise this was the Young Adult section. One low shelf in the sunken square had a jumble of crappy graphic novels and busted up surfing magazines thrown in it. Most of them were terrible old Asterix comics, and similar things, so Raymond rarely ventured down to look.  In two corners those round stand-up spinning book stands held piles of thin paperback novels in bright colours. No one really seemed to ever read or borrow any of them, but Raymond had learned from the giggles and not-very-covert whispers of groups of students that two or three has nudity or sex scenes in them. It was easy to tell which ones they were because they were very beat up. Especially a yellow one, that apparently had a part about two guys doing something in it, and bore the scars of being dropped into the laps of unsuspecting young male victims, and subsequently hurled across the room while their friends cackled.

Raymond’s spot was in the ‘mezzanine’, which was the same shape as the ground floor, but up a flight of stairs in front of the borrowing desk, and with a balcony looking down over the Young Adult section. The mezzanine was where most of the books were. Dirty skylights gave the whole area an otherworldly, hazy, gloaming glow. Two rows of massive beige metal shelves ran down each side of the square. Raymond had the sections highlighted in his brain. Right at the top of the stairs was Sport (gross), which morphed into science (meh), and turned into religion (shrug) in the back right corner. Turning down the back side of the square took you through Art and Design (cool), then history (rad), and finally, Raymond’s favourite, the weird stuff.

Raymond’s spot was a low, cushioned armchair with heavy black metal legs covered in squeaky off-white vinyl, tucked in an alcove, and nearly completely out of view until you walked right past it. The chair faced directly onto Raymond’s favourite shelf. Althought he would often grab a couple of massive art and history books (he especially liked the gigantic Encycolpedia of Modern Military Uniforms), the vast majority of his attention always went to the metre-and-a-half bottom shelf across from his Spot. An old yellow sticker on the shelf at this section read “Paranormal/ unexplained/ horror.” It was a treasure trove of off-putting descrioptions, heart-pounding eyewitness accounts and creepy illustrations.  Fifty minutes outside of the library was an age, but a lunchtime spent in his Spot seemed to Raymond like a fleeting moment. He always pulled out way more books that he had time to look through in one sitting. He’d stack the big ones near his feet, balance the smallest on the arms of the chair, and pack the hefty medium sixed hard covers next to his thighs. He loved the books for their stories and ideas and pictures, and their ability to transport him to another world, and raise the hairs on the back of his neck, but he also loved the feel of them. The weight in his hand. The way the thick plastic p[rotecting the covers gave a moved under his fingers as he swung the tomes in his hand down the aisle. The books were his real allies.

About half way up the steps to the mezzanine, a glimpsed view under the shelves showed Raymond that his feeling was correct. The entire floor seemed deserted now. He jogged the last few steps and set off towards his spot. With 15 minutes left he could still flick through a couple of his favourite books. He was rounding the Religion corner, and mentally shortlisting which books he would pull down, when he nearly walked into a Year Ten coming the other way. The boy was tall, a little pudgy, and smiling over his shoulder as he joked with a Year ten girl walking just behind him. Both he and Raymond stopped abruptly to avoid a collision. Raymond froze, and the tall boy did a short double take as he recognised that he recongised Raymond.

“Oh, hey Ray,” the Year Ten said.

“Hey man,” Raymond replied, not knowing where to look.

“How you been dude? You sort of disappeared on us hey.”

Raymond knew he needed to reply quickly but his brain was doing what it always did in this kind of situation. He felt like his mind had turned into spaghetti, and his thoughts were going too slow and too fast at once.

The tall boy was Cameron. He and Raymond were best friends from the start of primary school until the middle of Year 6, when Raymond moved away for a few years. When he came back to his home town, Raymonds mum had decided that it was time to make up for a mistake she felt she had made in sending him to school too early, when he was just a little kid. Raymond was smart, but he had alwaus been a little immature and social stilted compared to others in his year, so when his family moved back to town after being away, Raymonds mum told him he would be doing Year 9 again. Raymond didn’t kick up a stink. Raymond never did that. He did worry that people who remembered him from primary school would be at this high school though. There were only two big public high schools in town, and he felt sick about having to explain to people who recognized him from primary school why he was now in the shameful category of people who had to repeat a year. Cameron’s family lived just around the corner from Raymond’s family home, which they’d moved back to when they came back to town. He’d caught up with Cameron once before school went back (Raymond’s mum had called Cameron’s and set it up without telling Raymond). It was a little awkward at first, but Raymond had always liked Cameron, and even found his mum and his older brother Kim easier to talk to than most people. That day they ate Cameron’s mum’s ‘Specialty’ pizza (plain wraps with melted cheese and tomato paste) in front of the TV and pretty soon things seemed more or less like they’d been years ago. Raymond didn’t tell Cameron he was repeating. On the first day of school Cameron and his brother came out of their house as Raymond was walking past. It was about a half hour walk to school. Raymond was nervous but Cameron and Kim were both super funny and smart. The brothers talked about big ideas and local urban legends and people they knew. Cameron almost never stopped talking, Kim chimed in when he could with a dark joke or a witty comment, and Raymond followed along not saying much, but grinning and laughing along.

When they got to the school gates (massive spiked things swung open from a tall barbed-wire-topped fence) Raymond hesitiated. Cameron grabbed the handle of Raymond’s school bag and playfully tugged it as he strode towards his group’s Area.

“Come on man, you can sit with us,” he said.

The cracks started to show even on that first day though. Cameron’s group were really nice, and interesting. They were basically six boys who sat on the big steps outside Food Tech, but they had a sort of mirror group across from them which was mostly girls, and the two sort of orbited one another, coming together and drifting apart like a tidal inlet. Cameron introduced Raymond around. One of the other boys remembered Raymond from primary school, and for a while Raymond was able to blend happily into the background of the conversation. Predictably the talk soon went to subjects and timetables and who had which teachers this year. Someone asked Raymond what class he was in for Maths and his brain went to mush. Cameron noticed Raymond struggling to explain and intervned.

“Nah Ray’s actually Year 9, so he’s going to have his own hell to figure out haha.”

Raymond noticed a confused look brush over the face of the guy who he’s gone to school with previously. And them moments later a look of shrewd understanding. Raymond was outed as a repeater. No one said anything, and Raymond kept hanging out with Cameron’s group, in that Area for the first two weeks of school, but he was constantly worried that someone would say something about him being a Year 9 hanging out with Year 10s. Inter-year hanging out wasn’t really done. People mostly stuck with their own year group, and Raymond felt like other Year Nines were starting to notice that he sat with Year Tens as well, which made him worried that he would have to explain to more people that he had to repeat. He wasn’t connecting with anyone in his classes either (except for weird, co-loner interactions with Sam, Gumbum and Ryan). He wondered whether the other Year Nine’s thought he was weird- and that hanging out with Cameron’s group was adding to it. Slowly, Raymond started to spend some lunch times in the library. In the fourth week of term he found his Spot, and the shelf of awesome books. He started sneaking to the library right after class, every other lunch time and recess. The more time he spent way from the group the more awkward he felt when he did show up, so by the sixth week of term he started going to the library whenever he could, and avoiding Cameron’s group all together. He never spoke to Cameron about it, and started leaving for school as late as possible, to avoid being on the same schedule as Cameron and Kim. He just didn’t know how to explain, and was worried about offending Cameron, so he pulled his usual move and avoided anything scary or hard.

Now, about three months after he’d weirdly dropped out of Cameron’s fold, they’d come face to face, mere metres from Raymond’s hiding place. Raymond realised with horror that he hadn’t replied to Cameron’s question yet. He laughed nervously and looked at his feet.

Cameron gave him a slightly confused look. His friend walked around the pair.

“You coming Cam?” she said.

“Yep,” Cam replied, still looking at Raymond. “Come hang out again some time man. If you want. I’ve got some books you’d like. Crazy shit. You can borrow them… OK, seeya man.”

Cameron caught up with his friend and disappeared down the stairs. Raymond dragged the pads of his fingers on his right hand down the right side of his face, in a hard repetitive motion. It was a sort of tick he had when he really felt like he’d stuffed up, which was a lot of the time.

He walked to his spot, grabbed as big a handful of books as he could from his favourite shelf and dumped them on his lap as he sunk into the squawking vinyl. Suddenly he found he couldn’t muster the energy to open any of them. He sat, staring at nothing for the remaining ten minutes until the bell.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the windows in the library doors as he left and noticed that the right hand side of his face was all red.  

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Additional, useless, but maybe fun info on His Smile Will Keep You Safe

Bill and Charlie were not originally planned to be brothers until i told one of my (two) friends about it, and they immidetly went “Like the Weaslys?” so I just HAD to use that one. Their last name, Bellete, is French for Weasel, the mean nickname the Weaslys get called by Draco Malfoy

Jay, Charlie, Lucas and Bill are inspired by the technichians (and in Lucas’s case the tour manager) who I saw working for idkhow in Berlin. There were two guys setting up the stage, one in a plain blue shirt, looking so unnoticeable that he would have been invisiable if I hadn’t paid attention, who inspired Charlie, and one with a beard, black rimmed glasses and a base ball cap who inspired Bill. Jay was lookwise based on this roadie who helped carry the cases with equipement to the touring van, but I gave him dread locks instead of an afro like the guy had. And Lucas is plainly based on the looks of the tour manager

In Köln, when I was waiting for my second iDKHOW show, long after I had finished writing, and after the first few chapters were up, I saw a guy who played in a band in a venue next doors, and he looked exactly what I had always Luis imagined to look like. Seriously, if I had to cast people for the characters, I'd cast this dude as Luis.

I wanted the reader not to be the only woman on tour, so I added Lisa for the merch; the guy who I had seen at the idkhow show got cancled (I’m sorry, dude, even though I don’t know you), but he was super kind and just had some sort of peace about him which I packed into the “fatherly” side of Lucas which we get to see when he talks to the reader after her panic attack

I knew pretty early on that I wanted to include the incident with the stolen equipment from last year, and when the idea with the drugs popped into my head, it made sense to have the bus stolen in order to hide the drugs

Originally, before I created the characters in detail, I wanted the drugs to be smuggled by the lead singer of the opening band, which would have been Jay, but once I was finished with his profile I was like “no, he’s to innocent”, and decided to have it be the most unexpected character (apart from Ryan and Dallon), which was Lisa

Originally I had the reader’s appearance based on a mix of my other friend (who got me into iDKHOW in the first place) and myself, before I changed it to be a little more general. The idea was the reader to have a side cut, like myself, and long, brown, curly hair like my friend.

Also based on my friend’s appearance was the idea that somewhere in between the reader tells Ryan they always wanted pink hair, so he drags her to the hairdresser where they get her hair dyed pink.

Since the story is set in August/ September 2019, Ryan’s hair should be brown. Actually I wrote him brown haired until I asked my friend (the one with the pink hair) and they answered:

If Ryan’s hair would have been brown, and I would have included the hairdresser scene, he’d have gotten his hair dyed blue again, because “damn, I miss the blue”.

I did not include the hairdresser scene, because the only time it would have found some space, was during the time the bus got stolen, and it just seemed weird to have the the characters go “Hey, our bus and all the equipment got stolen, but let’s go dye our hair. Who wants to join?”

Lars is based on the guy I was in love with during high school (but we were never together), who probably still fucks up my self-esteem when it comes to anything that goes into the direction of flirting (aka he treated me like a piece of shit). I like using him as a template for the bad guys, I also wrote about him in “The Red Dress” (Patrick x Reader), and “Someone Who Loves You As Much” (Dallon x Reader).

All the cities they visit in the story are cities in the US at which iDKHOW played in that order during this year. But I pulled everything closer together, eg also skipping the dates in Europe.

I saw iDKHOW on a Wednesday in June. Since the day before, Tuesday, I had planned on writing a Ryan story (but only a short one), after the concert I knew it would be a longer story. I actually started writing while lying in bed in the hostel, next to my pink haired friend, who had fallen asleep already.

I wrote into tumblr drafts, three of them, which I’ve never done before. The first one is the very first sketch of into which direction I wanted the story to go.

The second entry was the reader meeting Ryan in the street (and it’s basically unchanged, except for Ryan’s hair colour) and the third one was the conversation in which the reader’s boss tells her about the contract

On Friday (two days after the concert), on my way home, I had a stop in a huge train station, before getting on the train that would take me home. I didn’t have wifi, so no tumblr drafts to write into, so I got a tiny booklet into which I scribbled the prologue, the second version of the story arch, and the characters

I can’t read half of the stuff I’ve written into that note book anymore, because it’s a MESS

What does that even say? I don't know.

 Jay was originally called Kay. I have the name written like that in the note book, and it was Kay in the first Chapter. But somehow I continued with Jay, and then I changed it in the first chapter, once I noticed it.

Pretty handwriting, I know. Anyone who has ever told me to write more neatly is only receiving the worst scribbled Christmas cards.

The opening band is called “Three Beats” as a mixture of “Three Cheers (for Sweet Revenge)” and “The Beatles”

 Lisa is actually the name of my sister’s best friend, who is a super lovely girl, but somehow it was the first name in my mind after I knew she’s be the bad guy

After the scene on the bridge, Ryan was supposed to get ill, and the reader contacts an old friend of hers (a doctor), who happens to live in the city they currently are in.

I was considering doing some scenes with Ryan randomly filming her for Instagram stories, like her spreading sunscream on her arms and he joking about her showing off her muscles and silly stuff like that.

I did not know how I wanted the two to get together until about a page before I wrote it. In the notebook I wrote that Ryan overhears the reader tell Lars off when he tries to flirt with her again, telling Lars that she’s in love with Ryan. This happens directly before Ryan goes on stage before the last concert, but he only confronts her after the show backstage. Then two days before Ch13 got posted I changed it again. Until then I had it written out as the reader following Ryan outside the bar, they talk and make up. Well, I decided it wasn't enough heartbreak.

The boy who helps the reader when she confronts Lars about what he told Ryan, is based on a boy who I met at the idkhow concert. Except that it was him who got bothered by a girl and didn’t know how to defend himself, and when he mentioned this in the break between White Room and iDKHOW, the girls around him jumped into defense mode. (I actually got into a staring duell, which is why I was able to describe the fight over dominance between Lars and the reader, because I basically starred her down and was very self concios during that short discussion (according to my pink haired friend it looked impressive, even thogh she didn’t understand a word because we were talking german; I felt more like an angry hamster))

Hamster Picture

 I wanted there to be eleven chapters, but because I also wanted certain chapter cuts towards the end, it turned into thirteen. And then I added onto ch13, and now there are 14 chapters

In my word documents, the original chapter 13 is called "ch-13" (still thinking about publishing the way it originally was, like a deleted scene) the chapter you got to read as 13 is called "ch-13.2", chapter 14 is "ch-14" and the epilogue is "ch-13.b"... It's messy.

 Doing the moodboards was fun but so much work… never again (how much do we want to bet that the next long story comes with mood boards again, because I’m stupid?)

In the scene in the diner, the reader orders a strawberry milkshake, because Ryan’s smelled so good. I wrote that because when i was in Berlin to see idkhow, my friend and i went fruit shopping, and i couldn’t resist the strawberries bc they smelled so nice

[mediawhorefics]

The wait... what was his name... Weasly ? YES PAUL WESLEY and Ian somrehalder (?)

paul wesley:

Yikes, I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I See The Appeal But I’m Different™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty || Gorgeous || I— I Love? We Don’t Deserve Him.

ian whatshisface:

Yikes, I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I See The Appeal But I’m Different™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty || Gorgeous || I— I Love? We Don’t Deserve Him.

send me your favorite average, white man and i’ll rate him

[theseadagiodays]

April 6, 2020

Travel at home

I have always been a passionate traveler, with an insatiable curiosity for new experiences, cultures and sensations.  But what also comes with all the titillation is a fair dose of unfamiliar, unsettling, and often challenging new circumstances every traveler must agily welcome if they are to thrive.  When you are served dinner with no cutlery in Kalkata, scooping sloppy curry with your hands has to do.  When you’re penniless and lose your companion, hours from home in Bangkok’s busy streets, you must ingratitate yourself to the kindness of strangers for bus fare to your hotel.  It strikes me that this same flexibility can serve us well as we navigate the unchartered territories of this new nation we all inhabit, called COVID.

But what moves me most as I wander the world is the way in which constant new sensory input elevates my present-minded attention so intensely.  My ears delight in a particularly evocative call to prayer in Morocco.  My mouth savors the sour sweetness of a Colombian maracuya (passionfruit).  And my nose even appreciates the cow dung furnaces on the side of the road in India. It is like meditation in motion.  After each journey, when I return home, I set the earnest intention to sustain such sensory focus at home.  But as the days pass, this consistently becomes increasingly difficult.  However now, with little opportunity to venture much more than metres from our door, we need new strategies to remain sane and stimulated.  So, I think we can all benefit from living like tourists at home. I believe there is a science to this. I’ve even coined a term for it. It came from a time when I heard education expert Ken Robinson define the word aesthetics.  Associated with beauty, most think of the definition as subjective.  But he simplified this by pointing out that the opposite of aesthetics is anaesthetics (that which numbs our senses).  So, aesthetics are those things which make us feel.  Since this revelation, I have come to call myself an aesthesiologist because I believe that all artists are in the business of making people feel.  And this is why I feel that sharing artistic resources on this blog is the best medicine I can offer as we all ride out this crisis together.

So, maybe today you can consiciously pay attention to some subtle new observation each of your senses notice in your environment.  The way the light hits your tea kettle at dawn.  The call of a returning bird at spring time.  The crunch of the potato chips that you’re binging on right now.  Lately, I’ve certainly learned to feel extra fortunate that I can taste or smell at all, because my husband completely lost his sense of smell 3 weeks ago.  Most have probably heard that this is an alarming and bizarre potential sign of COVID, particularly in people with no other symptoms.  So, having come thru full incubation period, we’re at least past the scare that it could have become worse or that he might have infected myself or others with whom he’d had contact prior to quarantine.  But he never thought he’d look so forward to the day he could smell my farts again.  (Meanwhile, I’m indulging in all the beans and garlic I want)

At any rate, if home sensations don’t tickle you enough, there is always virtual travel.  And while that certainly risks inspiring a vicarious longing that may not serve you, for others, it can elicit some of the same wonders as adventures themselves.  So, if you’re craving sensory immersion into other worlds, New York Times can help you do this with their 13 recommended travel podcasts.

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/09/travel/travel-podcasts.html?action=click&module=Top%20Stories&pgtype=Homepage&contentCollection=AtHome

I know I have certainly spent many days in quarantine wallowing over my screensaver trip photos, longing for a time when I could journey further afield once more.  But I have also been swept away by the photographic brilliance of some of the work that the New York Times is featuring weekly, in their World Through a Lens column.  Marcus Westerberg’s shots of Zambian wildlife (https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/31/travel/zambia-safari.html) were particularly emotional for me, having just had one of the most meaningful travel experiences of my life there, last year, when I served as resident visiting artist at a music school in Lusaka.  In fact, I arrived exactly one year ago, today, and can’t wait to return to those magical people.  A girl has to dream, after all...

April 7, 2020

Creativity at Home

If any of you are variety-mongers like me, seeing only the same person or people, day in and day out, can have you dressing up your spouse in wigs or Hawaian skirts or bear costumes just to mix things up a bit.    But largely, I’ve been hearing that many parents and siblings are embracing ways to capitalize on their excessive togetherness. I think it’s why the show Survivor has been so successful all these years. Forced into small spaces and “tribes”, we tend to do whatever it takes to get along with our fellow captives.  Cooped up together for days on end, there is no limit to the clever activities some families have created to keep themselves occupied.  

This crew took a simple tube and board of wood to create some exercise apparatus that has kept them busy for hours:  https://www.google.ca/amp/s/www.cbc.ca/amp/1.5518064

Others are taking vicarious travel to the next level with some Photoshop fun - https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/07/travel/coronavirus-fake-travel.html

And the most impressive might be this 5-person brood, each with operatic quality voices, who belt out their rendition of One More Day, from Les Miserable.

https://www.bbc.com/news/av/uk-52106893/coronavirus-family-goes-viral-with-lockdown-les-mis-song-adaptation

But, if you happen to be stumped for ideas yourselves, here are a few ways you can kickstart your family’s creativity.  A bunch of resourceful theatre company’s have been commissioning playwrights to create short Plays at Home, designed for actors and amateurs alike to perform in their own living rooms.  Most are staged for 1-7 humans, with joyful themes, and participants are welcome to share video recordings of their readings.

https://www.playathome.org/?fbclid=IwAR3_Uib1GQV5134ZbF7IEI5F5lpt0HQdxYkd1HtiNeUFws1UKCvVV4_2KEQ

And right here in Vancouver, my friend Vanessa Richards is finding thoughtful ways to engage community in collaborative singing, by sustaining her weekly free choir sessions, now in Livestream, every Wednesday, from 6-7:30.  You can check out Van Van Song Society here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/togethersinging/

April 8, 2020

Quarantine Living - Al Yankovic style Some of you may be too young to recognize this reference to our favorite weasly moustached 80’s bard, who humorously bastardized everything from Queen’s Another One Rides the Bus to Michael Jakcson’s Eat It, with his own comic lyrics.  But lately, like our Les Miserable family, Weird Al Yancovic’s “wordsquatting” trend is spreading more virally than corona.

This original take on the Beatles, I gotta wash my hands is a classic.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OxOJ7hh3H-I

For more potty humor, I adore this Philipino artists’ no-toilet paper campaign, I love tabo- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vzb98tQp53I

And certainly, the most high tech example has come from Vancouver’s own Phoenix Chamber Choir, in their rendition of the hugely popular Queen song, Coronavirus Rhapsody- https://www.cbc.ca/player/play/1720158275935?fbclid=IwAR3gEdqv95oX4KT_W4F4_naJyASRhUaGpr-T56Aux9k4tCStGvow9xgHIQw

April 9, 2020

Reading Respite Endless screentime has probably left many of us fatigued and squinting, with a need for stronger reading glass prescriptions that we can’t fill, because all the optometry shops have shut down.  So, these next suggestions are offered with that caveat. However, for me, the tactile experience of a book in my hand can still be a nourishing antidote to digital overload. Often just a page is capable of transporting my body, mind and soul away from news feeds, virus counts, and press conferences.  

Never a fan of e-readers, I have always passionately supported my local bookshops.  And thankfully, there is a current intiative intended to do the same, at a time when the threat of a certain Capital A behometh taking over global commerce is greater than ever.  So, you can actually feed your spirit and your neighborhood bookseller by purchasing any literary craving here. Thanks to the new site, bookshop.org, you can order what you’d like from the local bookstore of your choice, while this company acts as liason.  And the fair split allows your local vendor to keep 30% of total profit, when direct sales that are no longer possible for them may have only been slightly more (40-45%).  

As far as what to stories to consume at a time like this, it has amazed me how much films like Contagion and Outbreak have had huge resurgences. This tells me that relevance and resonance are key factors in people’s entertainment choices.  However, if you’re looking for something that relates to your current circumstances, but leaves you not with more fear, but with actual hope, inspiration, or tools for survival, here are a few better options:

Emily St. Mandel’s Station Eleven is, in fact, a post-apocalyptic tale.  But her narrative’s most clever survivors form a travelling Shakespeare troupe, demonstrating the power of art to heal in dire times.  

For some existential musing reaped in self-isolation, Thoreau’s Life in the Woods always still provides.

And if the new stressors arising from this crisis find you busier than ever, but you long to slow down, travel journalist, Pico Iyer, in his prophetic 2014 book, The Art of Stillness, makes a strong case for the fact that “in our madly accelerating world, our lives are crowded, chaotic and noisy. So, there’s never been a greater need to slow down, tune out and give ourselves permission to be still.”

April 10, 2020

How Might We Fill This Space?

Never before have Memes, Tik tok or Cat Videos provided such many needed lifelines for people all over the world.  But the video that most stirred me to action was this stunning dance collaboration that popped up in my Facebook feed, during the early days of self-isolation, before my first Zoom conference, before I’d seen my first collaborative musical Quarantine Song spoof. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3pFxsYPLgU

This global initiative to weave together dance gestures, while performers were entirely physically separate, seeded the idea for a community art and writing project that I have recently started with a few friends.

In an effort to connect artists during this physically distant time, we have launched Spool of Thought.  And all artistic contributions are welcome to the thread.  

https://www.instagram.com/spoolofthought2020/

On this page, we invite people to respond to the question, “How might we fill this space?”as we adjust to different rhythms of being. The idea is to weave together our thoughts, through the fluid form of cursive writing, in a non-linear narrative documenting this unique time on our planet.

The full instructions are below, for those interested and eager to participate:

1.Using Notes (iPhone) or Evernote (Android) and the digital pen, draw a continuous cursive line from the left to right side of the note (arranged horizontally) and write a word, phrase or sentence that responds to the prompt: How Might We Fill This Space?

2. Save it to your photos.

3. Then,send it by email to: spoolofthought2020@gmail.com, and we will add your text to the Spool of Thought Instagram page.

4. Please include your name, your location, your occupation, and your Instagram@ for the caption of your photo.

5. And feel free to share this invite with your community, along with these instructions.

6. Finally, enjoy watching the spool unravel on @spoolofthought2020, as the thread grows, and tag us wherever you choose to share: #spoolofthought2020.

[goldmynetv]

Danny Baker fired by BBC for tweeting royal baby chimpanzee picture Broadcaster Danny Baker has been fired by the BBC after he tweeted a joke about the Duke and Duchess Of Sussex's son using a picture of a chimpanzee. Harry and Meghan revealed on Wednesday that their new arrival was named Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor. Radio DJ Baker made a joke about the birth, tweeting a black and white photo showing a well-dressed man and woman holding hands with a suited chimpanzee. Baker captioned it: "Royal baby leaves hospital". Following a backlash and allegations of racism given the Duchess of Sussex is mixed race, he deleted the post and apologised. On Thursday morning, he posted another message on social media, saying he had been "fired" by the BBC, later saying he had made a "grotesque mistake". A BBC spokesman said: "This was a serious error of judgment and goes against the values we as a station aim to embody. Danny's a brilliant broadcaster but will no longer be presenting a weekly show with us." Baker later hit back at his former employers, and tweeted: "The call to fire me from BBC 5Live was a masterclass of pompous faux-gravity. Took a tone that said I actually meant that ridiculous tweet and the BBC must uphold blah blah blah. "Literally threw me under the bus. Could hear the suits knees knocking." Baker added: "For the record - it was red sauce. Always," in reference to the regular feature Sausage Sandwich Game on his Saturday morning Radio 5 Live show. The segment takes a celebrity and gets two guests to guess which condiment the famous person would ask for if handed a sausage sandwich - brown sauce, red sauce or no sauce at all. Defending his actions on LBC, he accused the BBC of being "weasly", adding that he made an "innocent mistake". Speaking to his friend James O'Brien, the presenter said: "I used to do it on my show a lot, monkeys dressed as famous people with fairground music." He added: "The BBC suddenly decides it's going to throw me under the bus, and that's the thing that stings. I mean, there's a tremendously weasly thing to do again." He accused them of "giving credence" to the idea he was "revealed as a racist.. https://www.instagram.com/p/BxPYPeklkF5/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=iwn2d1gkscry

[emo-boy-oliver-blog]

Life Update #48

Morn humans, 

It is Wednesday, woot, three days left at this school (including today)!! I’m so so excited and a little scared and sad. Yesterday we had speech day which meant we only had half the day at school, at recess we did our secret santa and my whole group surprised me with a farewell present!! It was so so nice I literally got emotional, they got me a slytherin snapback, slytherin socks, a slytherin magnet, a slytherin key chain, a ron weasly key chain, a Harry Potter pop vinyl (!!), a mystery box of a mini Harry Potter figurine which turned out to be hagrid, 4 new pins for my collection (!!) ((one said ‘live every day like it’s taco Tuesday with a taco on it, one had a cool picture of a beach that said ‘paradise’, one had a fox and it said ‘zero fox given’ and my personal favourite was one with an alien that said ‘space out’)), a box of four christmas lush bath bombs and they all wrote me a beautiful card. It was so so nice and they didn’t need to do that at all but they did and I am very very lucky!! It’s like Christmas has already come!! I also bought myself a signable bear and all my friends have been signing it. I have currently been doing Vlogmas on YouTube which is really fun and I’ve been enjoying it. 

Tonight I have musical theatre and we have our final lesson for the year which is a party, I’m going to get emotional because it is my close friends final lesson before she leaves the country and I probably can’t make her farewell, I’m very sad. I’ll probably cry tbh. 

Last night was the big assembly which went for hours and was boring but i saw my year 11/12 crush. She’s spoken to me a couple times this week, I’m sad because I’ll never see her again after this week, I wish I had the courage to ask her to sign my bear. 

That’s probably all for right now

Oli