#which like fair enough then we already knew international media especially us media has really poor coverage of canadian wildfires i wouldnt

[coollikeacaterpillar]

tiktok is literally the worst thing ever invented oh my god. why are people my age using it for news???? like the NWT are on fire in Canada, a bunch of towns have been evacuated, people need to be airlifted out because the only highway between towns is on fire. we know this, this was on every single Canadian news outlet guaranteed. then I go on tiktok, I see a girl talking about being evacuated and spreading awareness and her comments are filled with how 'no one is talking about this' and 'this isn't on the news' and like. Yes. it is on the news, you're just not watching the news. you can't say it's not on the news is the only news you get is from tiktok.

[abyssal-werewolf]

Fluid kintypes - identity doesn't need to be static

I used to be a wolf, once. Not in a past-life sense, but in a therian sense - I was a wolf therian and then I wasn't. Sounds weird to you? I'm not surprised!

Something that I have repeatedly been told by other therians and otherkin is "you are what you are and if you find out you are something else - well, then you never were the first thing at all." Especially when I joined the community several years ago, I saw this statement everywhere. But let me tell you: it's not true. I had several different kintypes over the years (side note: we are plural and for the sake of this post I am simplifying some internal structure things. if you want the complicated details, feel free to ask! /gen), started as a wolf therian, then I was a cryptid, a dinosaur, a dragon and some kind of monster. Now I am Khhanivore (from Love, Death and Robots) and Mewtu (from Pokemon, Mewtu is the German spelling) - and a raptor kintype is coming back. (I am also a werewolf, but that's not a kintype, that's just Purely Me And My Whole Essence)

"Okay Istasha, but isn't that just questioning or maybe flickertypes?", you might ask. Fair point, but no.

I honestly never really questioned my kintypes - if I truly question something, it turns out to either be a hearttype or Nothing at All. As for kintypes, I just know - all of us just know what we are, it's like chilling and one day, suddenly, one of us is like "oh, I am a horse. alright, carry on" and that's it. Our kintypes stay with us for several months at least, theoretically they could stay forever but tend to change along the way - which brings me to the next point. They aren't flickertypes either. We only really get fictionflickers and sometimes animalflickers and those are extremely short and always tied to media we are currently consuming - they feel, technically, like kintypes to me. For example, if I watch a lot of Supernatural, I sometimes get an intense feeling of belonging there, of being a non-canon character, of being part of the story, etc. I am this non-canon character in that moment, I might even get pseudo-memories or shifts, but as soon as I don't engage with that show too much again, it instantly fades.

Our kintypes don't work like that. Take my re-emerging dinosaur kintype as an example. I was walking somewhere a few days ago and suddenly had a pahntom sensation in my legs and feet and in the same moment I knew "ah shit, new kintype". I gave it a day because maaayyybe it's nothing? But deep down I already knew what was going on, so I have an Utahraptor kintype now. I am this. I identify as this through and through and it feels like I've always been this way. But it wasn't - a week ago I wasn't a dinosaur and now I am. I did not choose it, I did not engage with any dinosaur media at all, it just happened.

My kintypes have always been changing and trust me when I say I had a complete identity crisis when my wolf kintype first went away. But over the years Ive learned to accepot it - my identy is not static, it never was and it never will be and that's okay!

It doesn't make my kintypes less important or less real and it also doesn't mean I never was a wolf. I was. And then I wasn't.

I honestly think it is so, so damaging to still have this "kintypes are static"-sentient floating around in the community, because that's simply not true for all of us. For me, it honestly even makes more sense this way. Our brain has always been unstable, I lacked a true identity for so long. We grew up with untreated BPD andf although the symptoms are 95% under my control now (read: it's in remission), our brain still has a ton of habits from that time, like clinging onto different things to try and form an identity, to try and fill the void where a person should be. And the fact that the void is filled now, that I finally am enough of a person to fill it, this habit never changed. Our brain still randomly grabs things and makes them one of us, leading to fluid kintypes.

Let me end this with saying: being wrong about a kintype is fine. Figuring out you are X instaed of Y and never were Y is fine. But it is also fine to be X today and Y tomorrow.

I think I've said this before but I'll say it again: we, as a community, need to take our identities less and more serious at the same time. Let's stop the gatekeeping and policing others, let's stop overanalyzing ourselves so much. Let's stop looking for rules and asking "is it possible to be this?" over and over again - because the answer is yes. There are literally no rules as to how, why and what you can be. In order to be otherkin you need to do exactly one thing: identify as The Thing in question. Nothing else. On the other hand, we need to kindly educate those who confuse identify as and identify with, we need to kindly educate young therians who "choose their theriotypes", we need to make sure we are not watered down to being "a fun thing you can do".

I sometimes feel like the focus and effort of this community is in good faith but in the wrong place - static kintypes is one of them.

There are no limits. Be who you are today and if you are something else tomorrow, be that then. <3

[scuderia-hamilton]

The investigation was officially into "controlling behaviour". It was a Dutch tabloid (De Telegraaf) that published an article claiming it was a case of sexual misconduct, and that he'd fallen out with the Verstappens, and that his lawyers paid her hush money, and that they themselves would reveal screenshots of incriminating messages at a later date. There hasn't been a mention of sexual misconduct by any official source. Max has categorically denied any change in relationship between himself and Horner. There is no evidence of the hush money, and the publication hasn't posted any screenshots, despite claiming they already had them.

I'm not sure one would put so much trust into a single article like this, especially a Dutch publication, and especially after what happened in the Susie Wolff fiasco.

I know you probably don't care about this, but there is a massive power struggle at Red Bull currently. Dietrich Mateschitz's son owns 49% of the company, and believes Horner is getting too ambitious, so wants to oust him. I'm not saying this circus was manufactured by him, but he's been using it to his advantage to try and push Horner out. On the other hand, Thai stakeholders hold a 51% majority share, have a soft spot for Horner, and have been doing their best to keep him in.

This is why the investigation has taken so long. There's an internal rift at the company with each side doing their best to inconvenience the other.

hello, i appreciate you being kind and respectful, some people find it easier to hide behind anonymous harassment. :))

there are so many things wrong with this investigation, starting with the fact that we don’t even know what he did, exactly. regardless of if it was sexual misconduct or just controlling behaviour i would not go around defending him under any circumstances.

the fact that red bull hired an independent lawyer to investigate one of their own employees and then it magically turned out that he did nothing wrong is the biggest issue. not making it available to the public, not posting about it anywhere, so they can actually prove that he is innocent and the 100 pieces of evidence are not viable, is another issue. they’re basically like trust us, bro, he’s a good man.

their official statement saying that “the grievance bas been dismissed” does not mean that he’s actually innocent is another huge problem. they don’t care enough that’s the bottom line. all that talk about it being a fair and just and super thorough investigation, was all that: talk.

the way they handled this, the way the fia and f1 and the media and majority of the fanbase, handled this set back the sport about 50 years. this is utterly disgusting and evil and it really, genuinely makes me sick to my stomach that he gets to keep his job, he gets to walk around the paddock, flaunting his “innocence”, continuing his gaslighting manipulative power play, and misusing his power and authority.

i know about the internal power struggle and all the supposed rumors of conflict between him and Jos Verstappen and Marko, but (and i really don’t want to seem rude), i frankly couldn’t care less. they’re all horrible, power hungry, white rich men and i hope they all rot in their special, reserved little spot in the darkest pits of hell.

i know you meant nothing wrong and you’re just clearing things up, which i appreciate, but at the same time, i think all of this is pointless. they handled this so horribly, we all knew what the outcome will be, cause he’s a man and there are no consequences of their actions.

the victim’s life is ruined and for that alone i hope his downfall will be astronomical. i hope she gets the support and justice she deserves. i also hope she appeals or takes it to court, but obviously that is completely up to her.

the bottom line is, f1 is truly a “men’s world” kinda sport, it’s a cesspit of sexism, racism, bigotry and all horrible things. and as long as men, like Christian Horner get to walk around freely, it will never ever be a safe place for women.

frankly i cannot understand how and why anyone would defend his or the team’s actions, but hey, i guess further harassing the victim and praising and cheering on the abuser is what goes on nowadays. also calling it out, results in you getting harassed too, because being a decent human is also something that’s not appreciated in this sport.

[snifflesthemouse]

This morning, I read an article titled “I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts" posted to Refinery 29. The title gives the impression of a journalist disguising one’s self as a “Meghan Markle hater” for the sake of getting to the bottom of something. However, the content of the article is nothing like its title.

Before I go further, let me stress the importance of perspective. My post isn’t an attack on the article’s author. I’ve never even heard of the author before now, and I’ve no right or reason to attack a perfect stranger because I vehemently disagree with the content of their work. Making assumptions about someone solely on what they write is lazy and sloppy in my opinion. I may be lazy and sloppy, but a hypocrite I try not to be. Therefore, go forward remembering my issues are with content, not creator.

The article starts out explaining the origins of the term “Megxit”. It continues with other hashtags, conspiracy theories, and so on. The article even mentions various media platforms “attacking" the Duchess, as well as crude posts witnessed by the author.

Then the name dropping begins. First with Murky Meg, then Sue Blackhurst, then According2Taz, then Skippyv20 on Tumblr, then Yankee Wally. Eventually, names of Royal Rota journalists are dropped. Then people like Angela Levin and Omid Scobie get mentioned, with interviews from the latter. Instead of an undercover sting, we get a “Who’s Who" of Megxit, a few anonymous Sussex Squad quotations, and Omid trying his best to be fair.

What this article accomplishes is very little when it comes to objectivity. The title is a misconception, and the content essentially paints targets on the backs of the people the author carelessly considers “Meghan Markle Haters". The article reduces anyone who disagrees with Meghan’s behavior as racist, misogynist, conspiracy theorist nutters. So, not only is the content of the article sloppy and lazy, it also lacks originality. We’ve all heard this sad song-and-dance number a million times.

I guess at face value, it becomes very easy, effortless really, for outsiders looking in to reduce an entire group of people with similar views to the basic stereotypes as old as time. It takes very little thought, consideration, or critical analysis, to assume things because they seem to correlate. But correlation is not causation. Just because some people opposing of Meghan Markle’s behavior happen to be racist doesn’t mean every single opposing person is also racist. Again, lazy and sloppy.

Just like assuming every single Meghan Markle fan is also vegan, anti-monarchy, feminist, woke warriors is downright sloppy and lazy. This author has personally interacted with and found common ground with Sussex Squad people many times. Some even became social media friends. They believe what they do, and I believe what I do. We do not agree with most things regarding Harry and Meghan, but we do agree to disagree and be civil.

So, contrary to the article, not all people “hate" Meghan Markle just because they detest her behavior. It’s important to remember extremes exist for all spectrums. Every topic, especially those politicized or made popular by media platforms, have extremes. There is no denying the fact that there are people who hate Meghan Markle because of her ethnicity. Those extremists who hate Meghan for her ethnicity ironically do not discriminate, though. If they hate her for her ethnicity, they hate ALL people of that same ethnicity.

On the flip side of this coin, is the other extreme. The face is the same on each side because the face represents extremism. There is no denying the fact that there are extremists who see anyone opposing Meghan as racists. Extremists who, by default, view every issue in the world through the lens of racism. While racism is a serious problem that deserves no place in society, assuming racism is the root cause of every conflict is also lazy and sloppy. And the same could be said that these extremists do not discriminate, either. If they see race as the only issue for why people “hate" Meghan Markle, they see race as the only issue for most everything.

The problem with both extremes is when everything and everyone is reduced to racial identity, racism only continues to exist. A racist using skin color as a disqualifier perpetuates racism. Assuming racism is the only reason behind disdain for someone only perpetuates racism. Focusing on race or racism allows no room for content of character.

Especially when people defend Meghan Markle being the victim of racism with a racist rule. When opposing critics say “I didn’t even know she was Black" or suggest her physical features, her Hollywood CV, or past involvement with Black causes were nonexistent before she became a duchess or stepped down from being a working royal, the extremists on the other side often resort to the One Drop Rule.

Which means their defense for calling Meghan Markle “haters" racists, even though they might have never knew she was mixed race, is a form of racism. The One Drop Rule was borne from the Reconstruction Era post-Civil War. The “rule" essentially said anyone who appeared to have Black features were considered Black.

The One Drop Rule was the precursor and eventual backbone to Jim Crow Laws of the South. It was used to oppress and segregate Americans based on physical appearance. Considering most people who never heard of Meghan before Harry came along were ignorant to her mixed heritage, it seems grossly negligent to assume race is the real issue. How can one be racist toward Meghan when they didn’t know she was mixed race? This author wasn’t aware of Meghan’s ethnicity prior to it being pointed out (by her and Harry. Repeatedly.), mainly because this author didn’t care.

Like so many, when I first saw Meghan and Harry together for the engagement interview, I was more excited about a fellow American joining the Royal Family. After learning she was biracial, well it was even better. It represented change and progress. Does that mean I saw the Royal Family as racists beforehand? No. It means I saw them as exactly the opposite. Had they been racist, she’d not be a duchess. Her being American and divorced was more a shock to me than being mixed.

The point of all this is there are extremists on every spectrum. For a journalist to say they went undercover, when in fact they did not, to expose the true motives behind Meghan Markle “haters", only to find they did very little to really understand the other side was disappointing. Not surprising, just disappointing. This could’ve been an excellent opportunity for someone to take the reigns and make bridges between two very passionate factions. Instead it became nothing more than a hit piece.

The article fails to acknowledge the possibility – no, the probability – that most people who object to Meghan Markle do so because of how she behaves. The article only considers one possibility behind this “hate". And by calling the objections “hate", the article in turn defines all criticisms as hate speech. Again, unoriginal, sloppy, and lazy.

So here we have it, yet another article grouping and stereotyping anyone who disapproves of Meghan and Harry as racist haters. Yet again, another article name dropping people “deemed racist haters", essentially painting even bigger targets on the backs of those people. Like they didn’t already have enough hate mail. Yet again, another sloppy, lazy, article that never digs below the surface to understand why instead of assuming it.

This isn’t new, it’s just another slop drop from the sensationalism machine that has replaced fair, legitimate journalism. It would be different if there weren’t so many questions surrounding the births. It would be different if Meghan Markle actually lived by the example she so vehemently preaches. It would be different if Meghan Markle would make amends with her own family before telling the world how they should treat people. It would be different if Meghan Markle were a strong woman instead of claiming to be one.

But it’s not different. She hasn’t spoken to her father since two days before her wedding three years ago. She denies the family connections that existed before her fame. She ghosts people once they are no longer of benefit. She preaches equality and universal service while using her title every chance given. She and her husband criticize the “family she never had" while naming their second child after that family’s Matriarch. All of those are behaviors that incite strong emotional responses. Behaviors. And behavior has no racial identity.

A final note… hypocrisy is the main reason people have issues with anything. When one group of people tells another group to stop attacking a public figure, while using assumptions as their crusade call, it’s hypocrisy. One cannot say “if you can’t take the heat, then shut up!” to another without being a hypocrite. When that happens, don’t be surprised when the same exact thing is said back. If Meghan or her fans can’t take the criticism, they shouldn’t participate in it. We all have the right to choose. Just like if I couldn’t handle the criticism, I’d not be writing this.

Life is not fair. The world is a dark, cruel place. When we expect the world to bend to the will of a few, we are setting ourselves above the majority. A strong woman would know this. A strong woman fighting for others would also know that the only person responsible for how one feels is one’s self. External feedback isn’t responsible for internal turmoil. Internal feedback is. That is all.

REFERENCE:

Amoako, A. (2021 June 11). I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts. Refinery29. Retrieved from: https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/2021/06/10518195/megxit-meghan-markle-anti-fandom

[mannien]

Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - CHAPTER 1

The one with stress, takeout food around the world, late night walks, and Disney dreams.

Word count: 6.6k 

Warnings: some stress, some anxiety, mention of sex, and a lot of smiles

Masterlist

Fourth week into the morning pitch meetings at BBC, Millie felt lifeless and drained. The room was usually exploding with ideas, creative energy, and a lot of constructive feedback to the few interns who were allowed to join the conversation with editors, writers, and producers. That morning had started ugly enough for her: with an overwhelming number of e-mails about the schedule and missing content for Politics Live.

When she first landed her spot at BBC, Millie was over the moon. She was constantly calling it a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to begin a writing career in media. Her degree seemed to be the best choice for her future and Millie was ready to prove that graduating from humanities can actually land her a decent job. Her first days were filled with morning preparations, early commute to the city centre and exceptionally smoothed out shirts. The work environment in such a fast-paced industry felt inspiring and daunting at the same time, but Millie felt obligated to use this experience to its full potential. Each day she attempted to learn more than the day before and possibly show off a tiny bit more of her creative skills to her superiors. She spent her evenings researching topics and people, trying not to fall out of the loop. Being one step forward was hard work, one that Millie desperately wanted to ace.

The second week of her internship brought a slight shift to her agenda. After grasping the general concepts of working for a major radio and TV broadcasting company, she was aware of the production processes. She tried to happily follow up all the details about the work of a writer, a researcher, or an editor – just so she could be prepared for the follow-up of the introductory week. And as she hoped her interview was remembered and she would soon contribute to any program touching upon music or pop culture, her dreams and calls were slowly fading away. The intern manager ascribed her to the team devoted strictly to politics and daily news, having no vacancies for the popular radio programs. Even though she took whatever spot was offered, it was only to get more insight and experience.  

Having already managed to speak up a few times during the morning routines in the conference room, Millie eased herself into the work environment and was treated like a regular employee. But the first wave of success quickly passed, especially when she was hit with growing emptiness in her brain. She did not enjoy politics, so as far as she could, she attempted to sneak in a sociological aspect into the context. But her tactic had an expiration date.

A couple of heads were expectantly turned at Millie when she was unsurely stuttering her weak ideas for the upcoming programme. She knew it wasn’t going well and she was mentally cursing herself for trying to impress the producers that much so early on.

“This isn’t gonna work. We’ve covered this enough in the evening news. Let’s take five, and maybe you’ll come up with a different angle. I’ll give you another shot here.”

Hugh, the head writer took off his glasses and watched her fidget in her seat. She nodded and took a deep breath, before leaving the room for a short break. Her mind was racing in panic; she wasn’t ready to admit that she didn’t have any idea. She walked back and forth through the corridor until she cursed quietly and walked away to the main hall. She pulled her phone from the back pocket and without overthinking this anymore, she called her boyfriend. He picked up after the third ring.

“Babe, can I call you back…”

“No, Frank,” She felt determined and fierce. Her hands shook from the pure view on board members slowly coming back from the kitchen with fresh coffee mugs. They were probably waiting to hear her another take on the TV show which Millie, wholeheartedly, was beginning to hate. “My work on the programme is too basic and I’ve been roasted for the past fifteen minutes or so. Hugh has me in the spotlight in front of everyone. Help me, please?”

“It’s not your fault they’ve given you a job you’re not good at, babe. It’s just an internship, they will roast you anyway.”

Millie’s lungs were ready to stop working and suffocate her. She feared she might start hyperventilating, or at least meet up with a panic attack from the nerves. Franklin’s reaction seemed to be absolutely unfair and inconsiderate of her actual feelings, and he must have felt that through the piercing silence on the line.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much about it. They will probably just give you another placement where you’ll fit more, I don’t see why it’s such a bad thing.” And just like that, she started doubting herself and her right to overthink her situation. It didn’t sit well with Millie and she could feel anger slowly making its way through her veins.

“Can’t you just fucking help me? This one time?” She lost her temper, she lost her patience. At the same time Riley, one of the end writers, started waving at her from the end of the hall as to show her that her time is coming to an end. “I need a hook, or something that would spark a debate. Brexit-themed, maybe. Can you think of anything?”

Frank groaned loudly. He wasn’t exactly happy that she made him break down his ambitious wall and let her in on topics he was too invested in. Millie could hear him moving around as he left his desk of the equally large office of The Guardian, until the line went surprisingly quiet. Her anger and fear made her clutch her phone tightly to her ear, while her legs started carrying her slowly to the terrifying conference room.

“Think internationally. See what the Spanish had to say about May’s resignation from the Office. Think economics in the EU. Try to stand on the Union’s side and do some fair judgement.”

“Give me facts, not ideas. You’re the one who knows politics.”

“Spanish government says that May’s resignation is bad news. Compare it to the popular opinion that she was the worst Prime Minister since the 18th century and the American war on independence.” Millie breathed in, trying to desperately grasp all the details he just provided her with.

“That’s a… harsh and history-digging argument,” She mumbled in surprise, “where did you get that from?” She grabbed a yellow post-it note from the reception desk and quickly scribbled the key words on it. Her briefing on politics was never something like this and she could feel the embarrassment making its way into her heart. It wasn’t her way of thinking and she felt like a fraud.

“I can’t tell you that.” By the end of the single sentence Millie could feel the blood escaping her face, making her look pale and scared for dear life. She didn’t want to have heard that sentence, she was definitely happier not knowing how did he come up with a story like this. That was one of the many reasons she tried not to talk business with him.

“An opinion entry. A column for The Guardian. Shit, you just busted one of your colleagues.”

“Sometimes I hate it that you’re smart. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You just saved my internship!”

“Please don’t say that. I will pretend that we just talked about the weather.”          

“I’ll spend them the details. You’re the best, Frank.”

“Alright, go kick ass.”

And that she did. Franklin did save her internship, mainly because Millie avoided the specifics about who and why said something so harsh about the resigning Prime Minister. However, it definitely did spark interest among the production board. Afraid of not being so lucky next time, she decided to politely suggest a replacement for her permanent internship division within BBC, due to her ‘personal discomfort with discussions over issues of such importance and potential shame to their glorious country.’

Millie felt bad for using her boyfriend’s knowledge for survival at work. She wasn’t genuine and her idea didn’t come from her hard work - it was sourced in fear and anxiety-driven reactions. This situation proved to her that she wasn’t fit for the position, but it also raised her stress levels around the fact that she couldn’t get by on her own in the industry. She didn’t want others to navigate her through it all, but the conversation she had with Frank had also made her uncomfortable. Her need of support in a stressful situation was primarily turned down, so—naturally to her character—she started to worry even more.

With a heavy heart and two bags of Wagamama takeout, she walked up the stairs to his apartment. She was usually working until later hours than Frank, so all she really needed was for him to open the door for her. She leaned on the doorframe as she waited patiently for the two turns of the lock. He opened still in his work attire – tailored jeans and a light grey button up shirt. He was holding his phone next to his ear and humming approvingly to the speaker when he looked her up and down. He winked at her and let her in, as he continued to talk with someone.

Inside, Millie found the TV turned on with a football game playing. His work jacket was still hanging on the back of the tall stool in the kitchen, and the grocery bags laid unpacked on the table. She took off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she made a little room for their food on the countertop. Pulling off her sweater, she peeked into the shopping bags – she wasn’t surprised to find a couple bottles of beer and food essentials, a multipack of tissues and a large box of condoms.

“What’s all this, babe?” Franklin came up to her and briefly kissed her on the lips, before looking into the boxes with deliciously smelling food.

“I just thought it might be nice to eat some goodies,” She smiled, trying to sniff out his mood first. He smiled back at her with approval and reached for the plates in the cupboard, so she continued, “also, it’s a ‘thank you for being my saviour today,’ kinda thing.”

“Ah, yeah. I bet everyone on my floor will hate BBC’s guts for that.” Frank said it so casually, with a shrug to follow up, that Millie struggled to understand the dynamic he had at The Guardian. He seemed to be a great fit for his team, because a week into his new job, he was already invited for Friday drinks and talked about his co-workers just like anyone would about their long-time friends. She couldn’t understand how was he getting so lucky at any step, but the last thing she wanted to do is doubt him. Any time worries and competitiveness clouded her brain, Millie was making extra room for compassion and support.

Frank unloaded some of the curry on his plate and started eating with a fork, and then made his way to the living room where he spread out on the sofa. He didn’t say anything else, somewhat scaring Millie that he will let her know he’s uncomfortable randomly, on a promisingly good day. Trying to figure out her brain, she followed his actions and took some extra food to the coffee table, before sitting down next to him.

“But you’re not gonna get into trouble for that, are you?” she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, definitely not used to not being judged for using someone else’s help.

“Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t know I’ve got a girl at BBC, so I should be just fine.”

Millie ate her curry in silence, suddenly at loss of words driven by his surprising statement. She didn’t want to raise an argument or seem overly sensitive. But for some reason she hoped that he would talk about her at work, especially considering his already formed strong bonds in the office, and a definitely higher success rate in his position. Ever so charming Franklin, he always glowed among people. She couldn’t really fight with this, so she just kept any comments to herself and focused on her food.

Frank switched the channel to the evening news and pulled her to his side once they were done eating. It comforted Millie to know that at the end of the day, they could both enjoy each other’s company, no matter what was happening at work. She didn’t pay much attention to the news, but rather focused on the way he reacted to it and what he enjoyed. She felt too tired to get invested in another load of politics, so she just soaked in his warmth and curled more into his side. He smelled of coffee and heavy, musky cologne that he liked to reapply frequently. Millie closed her eyes and breathed out the stress that weighed her down after a long day, finally finding peace.

“I’ll go grab a beer, you want one?” he abruptly stood up, making her slightly loose her balance and lean back towards the pillows. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You’re awfully quiet today.” He spoke already from the kitchen, not even catching a glimpse of her pursed lips.

“I just need to wind down. It’s been stressful day.” She pushed a little smile on her cheeks as he came back with a frown. He took a few large sips of his drink and put it on the table, before lowering himself on the couch and leaning over Millie.

“I can help you relax, if you want.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner, leaning into her and leaving a series of delicate kisses on her lips. He then moved onto her jaw and sucked on her skin, but never left a mark. Slowly massaging her waist, he slid his hand under her shirt and sprawled his fingers across her hip to pull her closer.

Millie enjoyed the warmth that started to spread through her body, but she couldn’t find any energy to give some of it back. She felt drained and exhausted, so a mere thought about participating in sexual activities was sure to make her at least slightly uncomfortable. Unless Frank was willing to change something about it.

“Okay, hold on,” her chuckle and a light push at his chest made him narrow his eyebrows in confusion, “I don’t think I’ve got enough energy today, Frankie.” Her whisper was followed by a reassuring smile. She weaved her fingers through his short hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“What if I provide you with some energy first?”

“What, you’ll give me an energy drink?” She laughed at her poor joke and he chuckled, too, but more at her silliness than anything else. He laid her down comfortably and cautiously peppered her with kisses on her neck and the tiny bit of cleavage that was available without unbuttoning her shirt. She was slowly giving in, allowing him to get lower on her body and touch her. Frank either wanted to make her feel better, or was really horny. But whatever the case was, she didn’t want to stop him and ruin his enthusiasm. The glow in his eyes and admiration painted across his face were too intoxicating to back away. His touch was filled with sparks of emotions and a kind of drive that Millie was addicted to. She felt wanted and needed, and that’s what made her return the heated kisses despite her hooded, weary eyes.

They walked hand in hand through the chilly evening, sometime after she persuaded Frank to walk her to the nearest tube station. The wind was slightly tickling her neck, but other than that she felt at peace. She let her hair down, flowing gently with each blow of the air and lightly caressing her face like a safety blanket. They swayed their hands until they had to make room for a group of people passing by.

“Jane texted me about a little get together this Friday,” She mumbled into the night, trying not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere around them.

“Ah, yeah. Aaron told me about it, too. I guess we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, it might be nice. The girls mentioned this new club near their apartment? I think that’s where they wanted to go.”

“Cool. I could use a little break.”

As they continued their walk, Millie mostly focused on leading the way through tight London streets. Franklin’s parents rented him an apartment in the city centre, close to everything you could dream of in London. It also meant crowded streets at any hour, so to have a nice walk around the neighbourhood usually requested it to be late at night. But it didn’t matter to him, as long as he had a short commute to the office and all other things that life requested from him, within reach. There were times when he would mention coming back to Manchester and supporting his parents at their law firm, but Millie saw how much he preferred his growing career as a journalist. Mathilda and William were a generous couple, so they shared their resources with him and tried to help him get into the business as smoothly as possible. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his permanent position at The Guardian and whether his name had anything to do with it, but she never felt comfortable enough to do it. Some things were better left unspoken.

Reaching the staircase to the station, Franklin stopped and made her turn to him and look up at his smiling face.

“Thanks for coming over tonight. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.” She smiled shyly, nodding her head in reassurance.

“I wish you could finally move to the city, though. It would be so much easier if you were a few blocks away.”

“You do realize that even if I moved out, it wouldn’t be anywhere nearby?” Her chuckle resonated through her body, almost as if she wanted to humour herself at the topic that had started to come up more often in their conversations.

“I could ask around the office if anyone has a room available to rent.”

“But I don’t want to share my personal space with strangers, you know this. Don’t try to change my mind about it.” She smiled tightly.

Frank has been trying to persuade her into moving out for months. He wanted to be closer to her, within a short train journey, rather than a whole commute in and out of Kingston. He felt comfortable in the business of London, and Millie liked to call him out on being spoiled by having an apartment on his own in such a lively part of the city. But she wasn’t financially ready to leave her family home in equally comfortable Southwest London, where she had all she needed within her reach, and her social life was just a tiny bit longer train trip away. It was a source of their small disputes from time to time, because it was Millie who spent more time on going to his place and spending time there. Naturally, it made her feel more engaged in their relationship and Frank tried his best make up for the difference. But one thing that never occurred, was Millie staying over for longer than a night. Even a night’s sleepover was a rare event, somehow always blessed by excuses from either one of them.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he pecked her lips and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I talk about it out of concern, okay?”

“Okay. But I like my train rides and I like Kingston. So let’s just deal with it for now, yeah?”

“’Course,” He sent her a tight smile before giving her one last kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

Millie was one of those people who could be easily judged as thinkers. Years of taking trains and buses in and out of central London taught her to cherish every moment of peace she gets during her journeys. That’s how she learned to create playlists for each season – summer commutes were always different than autumn ones; they required different sounds and lyrical quality. Intense months during university semesters also showed her how to read fast between the stops and how to juggle standing on the tube and holding an open book without falling, as the train slowed and rushed every few seconds.

As she was approaching her station in Kingston, she stopped the music but kept her earphones in. A bunch of other people was hurrying to get out of the train and get home as soon as possible, but after leaving the station, she would have a lonely 15-minute walk to her neighbourhood, so she always tried to stay alert in the evenings. Getting on the sidewalk in the busiest area of Kingston, she closed her book and put it back in her backpack, pulled the jacket tighter around her middle and continued her steady walk.

The air was getting crispier with each minute outside. It was refreshing and calm, disturbed only by a few laughs from the pub across the street and two cars passing her by. She turned into one of the quieter streets, where the buildings were becoming shorter and more separated from each other. Brick fences and trimmed hedges adorned the concrete sidewalks on both sides of the street, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Most of the light was coming from the windows in a row of semi-detached houses that Millie has known for a good chunk of her life.

Right when she wanted to cross the street and take a right, she heard a subtle clicking of a dog collar and a leash. Soft padding from the back was slowly approaching her and becoming louder, as well as someone’s whistle.

“Tess, come here!” a hushed call didn’t disrupt the peace of the night, but rather added the familiarity that Millie adored. She slowed her walk and turned around, just in time to be met with lightly jogging blue Staffordshire Bull Terrier. She panted lightly with her tongue out and reached Millie’s legs, where she tucked her head and mewled timidly.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” Millie chuckled at the dog’s persistence in keeping close. She scratched her head and patted her on the back, “are you on your evening walk, Tessa? Is that right?”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Millie,” Dominic reached them and sent Millie a kind and apologetic smile, “good evening.”

“Hi, it’s good to see you.” She beamed at the middle-aged man, whom she learned to adore like a family member.

“Likewise, yeah. Heading home?”

“I am, just got off the train.”

“We will keep you company, then. Is that alright?” He fixed his glasses and leaned down to attach the leash to Tessa’s collar. Millie’s insides warmed and her mind calmed down at the idea that she will get to spend a few minutes with a friend.

“Absolutely, thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I bet Tom would have my head, hadn’t I offered,” they chuckled at the mention of his son. Their laughter died off comfortably and escaped into the night air, while Millie reminisced about the caring nature of the Hollands. “How is it going at BBC?” he asked after a moment, letting her go first through a narrow passage.

“It’s… going,” she smiled shyly, not sure how to dress up her words. In Dominic’s company she always felt one step behind in her creative skills; his writing and comic abilities exceeded her capabilities, or so she thought. “but I feel like I’ve definitely hit an end with politics. I know it’s only been a month, but it’s just… it keeps on proving that I should be writing about something else.”

“Oh, it’s totally understandable. Rest assured, you’re not the only one stuck like this,” They turned the corner onto her street. “but I wish you luck there. They have some sensible editors, so I assume you’ll get a chance at something else as well.”

“I hope so. Today I asked them about switching departments and the intern manager told me she will think about it, so there is a tiny light.”

“Something will always work out. You’re smart, you’ll find your way there.”

Dom and Millie continued down the sidewalk, until Tessa stopped near the gate to Millie’s house. She sniffed the pavement and turned back to the girl who crouched down to pet the Staffy one last time.

“Thanks for walking with me,” her smile was genuine, coming straight from her heart. “please say hi to Nikki and the boys. Is Sam still home?”

“He is, he starts his practice at the end of June. So, we all will be here to celebrate your birthdays.”

“Oh, that’s great! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“That’s true. But you’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“I know, thank you.” With fondness painted across her face, she scratched Tessa’s ear and stood up straight, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Bye, Tess!”

Whenever she got the chance to interact with someone from their family, Millie instantly felt their love and care penetrate her straight to the core. It was this kind of relationship that had been built through the years, only making it stronger and bringing it closer to the concept of family.

Nikki, Dom’s wife and Anna, Millie’s mother met shortly before Millie and Tom were born. At first only neighbours, soon they became best friends to the point of engaging their families in a kind affair. Greetings at the doorstep turned into late night family dinners and weekends away with the kids. They were used to spending most of the birthdays and holidays together, especially when Millie and Tom’s birthdays two days apart brought them all closer. She raced her best friend in Anna’s womb and came out to this world right before the brown-haired boy. Ever since the Beavers celebrated the birth of their third and youngest daughter, the Hollands began their journey with four boys. They always stayed close and treated each other like family, deeming it necessary to nourish their friendship and turn it into something everlasting. The example of their parents taught Millie and Tom to mimic the closeness and made them create their own little world.

Millie’s older sisters also treated Tom, Harry, Sam and Paddy like brothers, but not as much as Millie did. Samantha and Liz were already grown toddlers when the families got together, so they figured more as the female patrons of their youngest sister and her adventures with the boys. But Millie and Tom’s friendship turned into something so effortless and harmless that no supervision was necessary. They were each other’s partners in crime, best friends from next door. Their mothers had signed them up for the same dance classes, helped them get to the same summer carnivals, and let them have late nights in makeshift dens. Millie was one of the first people their dog, Tessa, got familiar with. She missed him dearly when he started his journey as a young actor, but Nikki made sure he always made the time to call his best friend when the time zones were somewhat cooperating. They nurtured their friendship through Millie’s education and Tom’s career, not stopping even for a moment. He was there for her always, carrying her home when she scratched her knee after falling off the slings. She would help him with homework whenever he felt too embarrassed to ask his parents. Tom escorted her home from her disaster of a prom; he was the first one to understand her anxiety and help her through it. And Millie always read the books and scripts Tom needed to prepare for auditions. Just like that, they always found home in one another.

           Their house smelled of baking and freshly watered plants. As quietly as possible, Millie took off her shoes and tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on only the least invasive, small lights. She put down her backpack and lightly stretched, letting out a tired, yet content breath. Her eyes scanned the kitchen in search for the source of the sweet scent, and there it was, on a cooling rack in the corner, covered with a tea towel – fresh lemon sponge cake, the favourite of Millie’s mother. Lightly dusted with powdered sugar, it added an extra layer of sweet comfort to the late night’s atmosphere. She left the cake untouched, but put the kettle on to quickly make herself a cup of tea for a good night’s sleep. She let out an overwhelming yawn and rested her hips on the side of the countertop, patiently waiting for the water to boil.

           She felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding, until it adjusted to the low lighting in the room. She could feel the anticipation growing in the back of her head as she noticed a new message.

           (Tom) I got you something today

           After a second or two, a picture loaded under the message. Millie gasped and smiled like mad, when he showed her a pair of Minnie Mouse sequin ears. It was an artefact that Millie has always dreamt of, not having an opportunity to go to Disneyland ever in her childhood.  She awaited the chance with high hopes and wandering mind, but she knew the trip had to be thorough, well-planned, and wholesomely happy.

           (Me) You were in Disneyland????

           (Tom) yeah we did promo for spidey today 

           (Me) I’m so jealous rn

           (Me) THANK YOU FOR THE EARS!!!!!  

           (Tom) it’s alright

           (Tom) I didn’t get any weird looks at all

           (Tom) Just casually carried around this shiny sparkling beauty

           (Me) I bet you loved this feeling

           (Me) I bet you bought yourself a pair too

           (Tom) Don’t tell anyone

           (Me) You could always pretend they’re for Tessa

           (Me) I just saw her and your Dad btw

           Whenever her and Tom texted, it always sparked a never-ending conversation about sweet nothings. They mocked each other, talked about their days, spoke about all things home. It allowed them a safe space from their daily hustles; Millie was able to breathe lightly and happily, and Tom had a chance to detach from the world he desperately tried not to drown in.

           Almost spilling the tea, she slowly made it upstairs without losing the sight of her phone screen. She struggled to turn off the lights in the corridor without making a noise but somehow, she managed not to disturb her parents too much, as she reached her bedroom. Safe within her own little space, she put down the mug and let go of her backpack and jacket. She threw herself on the softest bedspread and waited patiently for Tom’s reply.

           The text bubble stopped and a massage didn’t appear, but her phone started ringing. Millie answered the FaceTime call and waited for the camera on his phone to adjust and show his familiar face.

           “I had a meeting with Disney and they want me to participate in one of their projects for a Marvel-themed ride at Disneyland,” from a crooked angle she could see his neatly gelled hair and uneven eyebrows. Tom was walking somewhere, but then sat down and perched his phone on the mug that stood on the coffee table, so that she could see him better.

           “That’s exciting, right?”

           “Oh, yeah!” She could see him rummage in a brown paper bag and pull out a box with some takeaway food. “But I’m telling you this because we could turn it into our Disneyland trip that you’ve wanted, right?”

           “That would be nice, yeah.” She smiled back at the screen, but a terrible yawn sneaked in to her expression. Tom scrunched his forehead and took a large sip from a bottle of water.

           “I didn’t wake you up now, did I?”

           “No, I just came back home. I am tired, though.”

           “Yeah? How was work?”

           “Stressful and not nice. It wasn’t a good day.”

           “Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

           Tom spent the next minutes carefully listening to her words and trying not to spill his soup on his fresh clothes. He hummed to some of the stories and asked little intrusive questions, to get the whole picture. She kept rubbing at her eyes and stifling her yawns every now and then, at last making a mess of her mascara and getting it all over her skin. Despite the seriousness in her voice, Tom smiled fondly to himself at the view of her ruined face that probably mimicked her current mental state. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was rather endearing to have her so comfortably sharing her lows with him, while he casually ate his lukewarm, very late lunch.

           “Why are you laughing at me?” She returned his smile, knowing it was probably something she did.

           “You made yourself look like panda.” He chewed on a chunk of chicken from his second plate. The wrinkles by his eyes deepened with each of her chuckles and proved to them that this is the lightness they need in their daily routines. “Well, it’s good you asked for a new placement. You should be comfortable in your work environment. I’m proud of you.”

           “Thanks,” she yawned again and stopped herself mid-rubbing her eye again, earning a wholesome, groggy laugh from her friend, “your dad thinks they will give me another chance.”

           “I mean, he knows some people there, so he probably has a point.”

           “Yeah, I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high, you know?” A comfortable silence rested between them after he nodded and continued munching on his food. Millie stood up from her bed and took the phone with her, but also started to slowly get ready for the night.

           “You will know when the moment feels right and shows you something worth a shot. Trust yourself, Mills.”

           “I guess…” she trailed off, making her way to the closet to find fresh pyjamas. “I’m glad my panda face entertained your… what is it, lunch break?”

           “Sort of, yeah,” he chuckled, enjoying the playfulness of her tired self, “I should be coming back in two weeks. We could hang out then, if you’ll have the time.”

           “Oh, for sure.”

           “Alright, I’ll let you rest. Text me anytime, yeah?”

           “I will. Thanks for the Minnie ears!”

           “You got it, Minnie Mouse. Sweet dreams.”

                                                          *  *  *

After her little mishap with Politics Live, Millie tried her best to keep up the hard work, but stay low. She tried not to focus too much attention and just assist other workers in their tasks, only coming up with ideas when necessary. She strived to come back to her public voice, but she knew she needed it to have a comfortable outlet, preferably in another setting and on different topics. She was greeting the intern manager with additional caution and kindness, trying her best not to leave her case forgotten.

Segregating files for the research team seemed to be the best solution to her temporary creative break. Her attention to detail and wholesome care about the task being done to its full potential came in handy. She volunteered to help the group of meticulously scribbling and researching men in keeping their documents in order.

The soft mumble of the radio in the background was interrupted by a guy named Tim. He always wore rock band t-shirts under his jackets and Millie swore she had seen him participate in a wild dance routine during the last year’s Glastonbury Festival. He stopped typing on his keyboard and started to quietly hum a song that was definitely different to what Scott Mills was announcing on Radio 1.

“Oh my God, do you guys know this song? I can’t get it out of my head!” he groaned in frustration, making a few people in the open space office chuckle.

“Do you know any words, maestro?” Millie’s head snapped up at the sound of Kim, the intern manager’s voice. She was passing by with a bunch of files and a coffee, before she perched herself on his desk, obviously making fun of her friend.

“It’s got this very cool, mariachi-like trumpet between the lines,” he mimicked a trumpet player and hummed some more, “and the guy sings something about stopping a feeling…”

“Justin Timberlake?”

“You know he’s not my jam, Kim! It’s an old-school song.”

“You’re the old-school one here.” Kim’s comment earned a couple more laughs at poor Tim, who was genuinely struggling. “you’re the researcher, have you googled it?”

“Of course I googled it, stop mocking me! People are watching.”

Their little light-hearted exchange brought a breezy atmosphere to the office and made Millie smile some more. She kept on looking up at Tim to check if he’s found the song he was looking for, but without luck. Her fingertips started to tingle with each swipe through the pages in a file, because she felt like she knew the song. Deciding to come against her decision to lay low, she gently cleared her throat and swallowed her nerves of speaking up in a new environment.

“Hey Tim, have you tried to find it on Spotify?” they both looked at Millie with playful smiles, as anyone would to the up and coming intern fresh out of university.

“I don’t think it’s the title of the song, so I won’t find it there.”

“But you actually could,” she offered, biting her lip nervously “since the recent update, you can now type in the lyrics into the search bar and the results will show you all licensed songs with the same or similar lyrics.” Tim instantly reached for his phone and started typing away.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, let’s see…” Kim looked into his phone and watched his progress.

“And since you’ve remembered a catchy verse, it’s very possible that others also tried to find this song through the same words. So, it will probably come up within the first few results.”

“Alright, smarty.” He shook his head in amusement. Millie watched as Kim’s face got ridden of any emotion and just stared at Tim’s work.

“But if nothing comes up, you can always try ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ by Blue Swede.”

Millie waited with racing heart at their reactions. Tim clicked on one of the results and raised the volume, filling the room with a sound so familiar to Millie’s memory. She smiled shyly and internally patted herself on the back, before coming back to her task.

           “How did you know this song?” His triumphant smile was radiating, as he did a little dance in his seat and twirled on his rolling chair. “It’s such an old tune, I didn’t think your generation would know it!”

           “Yeah Millie, how did you know?” Kim encouraged his question and watched her carefully, almost as if she was studying her intern.

           “It’s in the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy. I wrote a paper on it.”

           “Hm.” Kim’s unreadable expression was giving Millie chills, but in a positive way. She liked to be asked about things that interested her and prompted her to be creative, so the way this situation evolved was close to burst her heart into passionate flames. “I’ll ask the Radio managers if they want a music and pop culture geek, how’s that sound?”

           It sounded like Millie put the trust in herself at the right time.  

****

tagged: @peeterparkr @katieraven @kozybear@sunsetholland @hey-marlie @lauras-collection@cunaeparker @constellationsv @heyhihellowhatsup0 @spideyspeaches

If it bothers you that you’re tagged, please let me know!

[honney-boy]

Wonder (Part 1)

Rudy Pankow x Oc!Reader

gif by → @riobeth​

Wonder Series Masterlist | Wonder Playlist

Chapter summary:  Rudy and Nevaeh meet in person for the first time and things aren’t awkward. Yougurt cups, bananas and ice blended in a cup and maple syrup.

Full Summary and Story Concept

Warning(s): language, shenanigans, jet laggness, social media zombies, teenage girls

Words: 5k+

A/N:  This is my first attempt at a Rudy fic. My first series too! But if this flops, let's pretend it never happened, okay? :) But If you guys want to read more, please do let me know. Your love and support is the encouragement I need. I got the concept from tik tok haha. Fair warning, I am handwriting out chapters with a pen and paper before converting it digitally, so updates with be spread out. THERE WILL BE GRAMMAR MISTAKES! I'm human, and Tumblr is my test run for this series. Anywho, hope you enjoy :)

taglist

One | “Social Zombies”

            In Nevaeh's opinion, airports were the worst. It wasn't due to the 38,000 feet in the air flying ride or the nothingness in the sky you see your whole flight; it was the people, the airports themselves, and the limited space.

Airports were much worse than flying - especially the San Francisco International Airport. Also known as SFO Airport. The few times, literally very few times, Nevaeh has been to the airport, she had poor experiences. Now, SFO Airport is definitely smaller than LAX and not as busy - it's a nightmare. You would think with a much smaller airport, there would be fewer crowds, but no, it's like a family reunion every day but with strangers. If you bump into the wrong person, your day on the off chance will get ruined.

Along with the busy crowds, there are many places to eat. From pizza to Italian to pie, your choices are endless. That's until half or more restaurants are closed or have long lines. Nevaeh never ate airport food, so she couldn't give her opinion on it. She'll leave that to the professional reviews. She wasn't at SFO Airport to judge the food or traffic flow, not even the staff's attitude - except she already gave a flight attendant a glare. The flight attendant took a bathroom break before their next flight and griped at Nevaeh because she used the last paper towel so they couldn't dry their hands. Air drying is a thing, and it works well, she thought to herself while leaving the restroom. She was not going to let one grumpy flight attendant ruin her great mood. She was going to meet someone who she hopes is special today.

Over the past two months, Nevaeh and this person had gotten to know each other well, virtually, that is. They met online, and Nevaeh lived in San Francisco while they lived in Alaska. Countless messages, facetime calls, photos, and videos were exchanged, and a bond was formed. Who would have thought that two people could meet through a video sharing social media app and hit it off? Most people start with dating apps, meet and get to know different people, but Nevaeh met them all because a video of hers popped up on their for you page.

Nevaeh created and shared a variety of things on the app. From cooking to creating and her little hobby of disco skating. She wanted to keep her followers and supporters entertained and herself; she didn’t want to be stuck, making the same content, so she did many things. Nevaeh thought maybe one of her disco skating, videography, or cooking videos drew them in, but it was one of her mini vlogs. In the video, she showed how she would scout places before spending the day getting footage for a short montage film or scenes for a movie she is working on. Not long after the discovery, they - he sent her a message asking about a more in-depth explanation of her process, and it went up from there.

Now, after all this time of them chatting back and forth, they get to meet. Nevaeh gets to meet him. 

Standing by the arrival gate, her eyes bouncing around the room at different things just to keep her mind centered and not all over the place. She wanted to pick at her nails, or hold her hands to her chest but she couldn’t hold them in place for long; she opted for playing with the white beaded bracelet he bought and sent to her in a box full of other things. It was so sweet of him; just thinking about the box she received makes her smile and her heart swell. Just last week she received a box full of thoughtful gifts. Inside were some of her favorite snacks, a movie she loved, one of his hoodies - it was the hoodie he wore the first time they facetimed. The hoodie was one of his favorites, but he had the urge to send it to her, he just wanted her to have it. And finally was the white beaded bracelet with a single aqua blue bead on it - he had the matching one with all aqua beads and one single black bead. She was having an uncreative and pretty shitty day until that box arrived on the front door step of her shared apartment.

“I wanted to surprise you, so I messaged Birdie asking her for your favorite snacks, I added the hoodie and got the two of us distance bracelets. You know, because we are long distance.” He told her later that day when they talked on the phone.

“Until you come here, or I go there,” she replied. She hasn’t stopped wearing the hoodies since and she has had the bracelet on since the moment she got it.

Nevaeh watched different people walk past her; none of them were him yet. The dirty blond mess he sported for hair shouldn't be that hard to miss, but the longer she searched, the more she doubted her assumption. 

It was another couple of minutes that went by, and she didn't see him, so she pulled her phone out to see if he had sent something. Maybe he has to catch a different flight, and he forgot to tell her, or perhaps he didn't want to meet after all. Her fingers type out a message to send, but a figure stands in front of her before she hits the send button. Nevaeh could see the shadow of their body from her peripheral vision, but she did not look up, hoping they would go away - but they didn't. Sending her message, the woman was preparing to turn away until she heard the stranger's phone go off. It's just a coincidence that their phone went off a couple of seconds after I sent a message. She said to herself, then she looked up and there he was. Dirty blond hair - a little long all over, but instead of it being in his face like it always is, it was pushed back and tucked underneath a red cap. His eyes were more lovely in person. The pair ranged from a light blue to gray, depending on the day. Today they were light blue. He sported stubble across his chin and cheeks with a blond mustache above his top lip. He wore nothing flashy, just a simple red ACDC sweatshirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of vans. He looked tired, but that didn't throw off the good vibes and smile he had going on. She couldn't help but smile back. He's here in the flesh. Rudy.

"Hi," he said light-heartedly, breaking the silence.

"Hi," she echoed; the smile on her face grew some more. "Wow, you're really here in the flesh."

He chuckled, and the sound woke up the butterflies in her stomach. "Yeah, I am. And you...the pictures and videos don't do enough justice for the actual thing." His eyes scan over her, noticing the navy blue Hilfiger sweatshirt he sent to her. Nevaeh couldn't help the dust of blush that appeared on her cheek.

“Talk about me, what about you? Who knew those Snapchat filters were hiding such a god-like person.”

“Oh, stop, you’re making me blush,” he joked while bashful. No matter online or in person, Nevaeh was still able to get him flushed; it was something he didn’t want to admit, not while he was flying blind with this.

Nevaeh smiled and had a tiny giggle; the full laugh was muffled by the hand she brought up to her mouth in an attempt to hold the sound back. He could watch her smile for a while. Is that weird? “How was your flight? I hope it wasn’t too horrible.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” he admitted. “Definitely long, but nothing a pair of earbuds, music, and a couple of movies couldn’t fix.” The two quickly began walking toward the direction of baggage claim. More of Rudy just following whichever direction Nevaeh was going. She did know the airport better anyway.

“Which movies did you watch?” she asked.

“Since I had six hours to waste - Joker, 1917 and Pride & Prejudice.”

“Oh, I see you listened to my suggestions; not surprised you watched Joker again,” Rudy shrugged his shoulders with a hum. “I’m surprised you didn’t watch the Harry Potter movies.”

Rudy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Actually, I already watched them a couple of days ago,” Nevaeh hummed as if she were to say, ‘of course’ “You can judge me all you want. I won’t pay you any mind. Just the same as I did with the guy that had the aisle seat in my row. I guess other guys find it weird that a guy decided to watch a period drama on a flight.”

“He was just jealous he didn’t think of it first. Mr. Darcy’s pinning for Miss. Bennett and the film’s  overarching theme is too good not to watch.”

“That it is, who would want to miss the warnings heeded against trusting one’s first impression or prejudices?”

“Or the character arcs that grow throughout the storyline. I pity that aisle sitting man.”

“I do too,” Rudy agreed. “He missed out on a classic and had to get up to let the other person and me out to take a tinkle.” He did it again. He made her laugh genuinely. The conversation between them flowed. The small worry Nevaeh had earlier about the two of them not being able to continue the light-hearted and enjoyable nature they had over text had diminished. He seemed just the same - goofy, charismatic, charming, and caring - as he was over the phone the past month and a half. She, too, was still kind, compassionate, and sarcastic as before. Yet both of them had their own doubts about the thing they were doing; they didn’t know what it was or where it was headed, but they were willing to find out.

           In the car, Nevaeh drove the route she knew from the airport to her shared apartment. Rudy sat in the passenger seat; his gaze focused out the window, watching the San Francisco scenery appear, disappear and morph as they passed by the window. The radio played while they sat in a comfortable silence - it impressed her how easily they fell into it. Wasn't it common for an uncomfortable silence? Two people who just met for the first time should struggle in an attempt to make a conversation, but not them.

To Rudy, the comfortable silence was almost expected. Granted, he did expect one of them to talk the other's ear off - he's glad neither of them was. The six-hour flight took its effect on the man, but he wasn't going to let his fatigue ruin the time they had together. He'll rest later. Spend time with her now, sleep later.

The car rolled to a stop, a red light shined on the traffic light hanging in front of them. Rudy's eyes watch a girl across the street riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard. Her stance relaxed, feet planted in a way that helped her ride easily; she was experienced, probably skated regularly. Watching her skate triggered a longing in Rudy for his board back at home. He rides on concrete and in the snow, but he was missing snowboarding the most. It was beginning to be summer, so the temperatures in Alaska were warmer. To warm for snow but warm enough for the evergreen to take over. Now he was in California, the state that was sunny all the time. The state that thrived in the summer and its soil hardly ever to never had the chilled touch of snow. His longing grew more for the chilly weather and white flakes.

The woman sitting next to him took the next couple of seconds between the light change to look at him. Catching the moment of his gaze out the window of her jeep. "I know you're probably tired from your flight. I had some ideas about the things we could do, but we don't have to do anything today." She spoke and after, glanced at the traffic light only to see it was still red.

Rudy tore his gaze from the distant image of the skater and met Nevaeh's. "I am, but if you want to do something, we can. I'm more than happy to hang out." He said.

Trying to reason, she said, "I know, but you just got off a six-hour flight." 

"Nevaeh, it's fine. I'm not that burned out. Time zones are an hour apart, and seven am isn't that bad." she begins to give him a skeptical look. She heard his words but feels as if he was only saying that to make her happy. He sat by her, leaned back, and relaxed. His head sat lazily against the headrest, and the smile he was giving her was light but tiresome. She switched her gaze from him to the traffic light, which turned green, and she didn't know when. Nevaeh eased her foot off the brake and to the gas pedal. "Seriously, we can do something."

“Fine,” She says after a moment. “I won’t wear you out too much more.” Flicking her left turn signal on after checking her mirror, she merges into the lane beside her. “There’s somewhere I wanna take you - well, maybe two places, but we’re going to the apartment first.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.” Nevaeh drove them to the apartment she shared with her long term friend. Rudy followed behind her as she led the way; they only spent a few minutes there. After a short tour, a bathroom break, and dropping off a couple of suitcases later, Rudy and Nevaeh left the place. They began a walk along the San Francisco hills to the mysterious place Nevaeh had in mind.

“This place is somewhere I walk to every other day. It’s Birdie’s and my favorite place.” It was a short six to eight-minute walk. Nevaeh reassured him before briefly going into a conversation about the impressive things you see in the city. Just like Nevaeh told him, they both come up upon a corner shop with a couple of large windows to see inside and out, a brown exterior with outside tables with green umbrellas and foldable outdoor chairs. The corner shop was known as the Nasik Cafe. For a small cafe, the place was doing well. There were a handful of people inside sitting, chatting, or ordering and quite a few sitting outside.

“This place is pretty health-oriented, and like Starbucks, it has things you could make at home for free, but their stuff is great,” Nevaeh explained to the man.

"So you spend way too much on yogurt cups, fruit drinks, toast, and other food you can make at home?" She nods her head like it was evident at what he said. Rudy shook his head. "Couldn't you just spend ten dollars on a yogurt cup?"

"Oh my goodness, they don't have yogurt cups, Rudy." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Okay, so ten dollars for a banana blended with ice in a cup - still sounds ridiculous to me."

"I can't with you," She tilted her head back, but she wasn't annoyed. She found his witticism amusing. At this rate, Nevaeh should prepare to always smile all the time around him. "You should find a table out here, and I can grab us something - wait, do you want to sit out here?"

Rudy nodded, then began to scan the area but only briefly seeing a couple of empty tables. "Yeah, it's nice out, let's enjoy it. Out here is great."

"Great," she says, pleased. "I'll grab something; I wanna surprise you. I'll be back." Nevaeh turns to walk inside. The smell of strawberries, oranges, and granola invaded her nose. It wasn't a new smell to her, but a new one for the day. She would always smell fruit and granola wherever she would walk into Basik. Some days it smelt like bananas and chocolate, or honey, peanut butter, and coconut. The smells varied, but the most prominent one was the tropical smell. To her left at a table was a couple enjoying smoothies. Both cops were a little under half full. A person sat at another table, invested in their laptop. To her right, more people sat. Art adorns the walls as realism paintings along with abstract images. There was a line at the counter; no more than four people stood waiting. She took the time to look up at the big and wide wood board hanging from the ceiling. When Nevaeh told Rudy she wanted to surprise him with something, she knew what she was getting for the both of them. The colorful and fruitful acai bowls.

Nevaeh and her roommate Birdie loved acai bowls. Birdie was the one to introduce her friend to the fantastic bowls she grew to love. Now it was her turn to turn another friend onto them.

The line moved along smoothly and grew smaller by the minutes. Once Nevaeh got closer, her lips stretched into a grin as her eyes caught sight of the barista.

"Hi, what can I get you? Could I interest you in our new fall to-Vae! Hey." the blonde barista's mood brightened significantly when she realized she was taking Nevaeh's order. She leaned across the counter and grabbed hold of Nevaeh's hand, and laced their fingers together. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to pick up your friend." She said, then making finger quotations. The barista was her roommate, Birdie. Birdie was a full-time college student and full-time barista to get by. She was more than happy to talk to her friend now that she wasn't as busy - Nevaeh was the only person in line for now.

"I was - I did pick up my friend. No air quotes, we're friends."

"For now."

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes at the blonde. "He's here with me, just outside." Birdie looked past Nevaeh and out the window in search of this guy. Nevaeh looked around for him, too; she didn't get to see where he chose to sit. "He's...the one with the red cap, right there." She pointed out once she spotted him. Birdie hummed and squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was difficult with the angle he sat at.

"He looks nice...from here," Birdie leaned back, so her fingers could let go of Nevaeh's and tap the terminal screen as she put her friend's usual order in. While Birdie did that, Nevaeh nodded in agreement but kept her gaze on him. "Lemme guess, the usual?"

"Kilauea; everything but-"

"No pollen and extra honey." Birdie finished with assuredness and not a drop of doubt in her answer. Her friend smiled, her eyes looking to Birdie with amazement.

"You know me too well."

"Well, you order the same thing almost every time."

"Touche," she couldn't argue with that. When it came to her acai bowl, she liked the Kilauea - made with mango juice, granola, berries, papaya, honey, and acai - the best. "And water, of course - make that two." She stepped back to look over the menu. Rudy wasn't familiar with the place, and he didn't know what they served, so Nevaeh wanted to get him something he hopefully liked. She decided to go with something not too fancy - directing her attention back to her barista friend. She went ahead and finished her order. "And...let me get the Islander acai bowl." That one was made with hemp mylk, granola, banana, berries, cocoa shavings, and honey.

Birdie rang up the rest of the order for Nevaeh. After catching a glimpse at the total, Nevaeh reached in the little card pocket of her wallet and grabbed her card. Unbeknownst to her, while she was getting her card, Birdie took her name tag and gave her friend her employee discount - she got it for half the price.

“I know you’re an independent woman and paying for the first date, the least I could do is give you a discount. Just don’t tell Daniel.” She winked, and Nevaeh gave her a thumbs up with one hand, and with the other, she made a zipping and locking motion over her mouth before throwing the key.

Outside, Rudy sat at the table he picked out for the two of them while waiting. While Nevaeh ran inside to get their order, he observed the small San Francisco scenery around him. California weather was sunshine with fluffy clouds. Just about everyone was either in shorts, a tank, and a cut-off shirt or any other summer clothing that provided them some comfort in the blazing sun. He dressed just right for the weather, though in Alaska, it was more on the chill side, causing him to wear a sweatshirt while he left. Now that he was basking in the California weather, he took off the warm sweatshirt and left it at Nevaeh’s apartment.

There were other people outside along with him. A group of girls sat a few feet away at a table in front of him, trying not to giggle as they attempted to make a video. At another table, there were two guys, perhaps brothers. They were eating something colorful from a bowl - it looked like yogurt to Rudy - and having a conversation with one another.

Rudy shook his head at the drastic difference between the two tables. Maybe it was just him, but it was amazing how much the world - more specifically America- was wrapped up in technology and social media. Sure the brothers at the one table had digital watches that told them the time and lit up, catching their attention with a vibrate when a text or notification went to their phone. But at least they could carry on a conversation without having their phone in their hands. On the other hand, those girls haven’t put their phones down longer than a few seconds. After those seconds, they tap away or show the other something they thought was worthy enough to gauge a reaction out of them.

Rudy wasn't one to judge. He didn't have much right to because while watching them and waiting for Nevaeh, he had the urge to pull out his phone. It was almost like a habit, but he chooses not to feed the temptation. He wanted to enjoy the day with Nevaeh; notice the burn on his skin from the sun, get to know her, have fun, pick up on little cues she has, and find out what he likes the most about her. And though it was kind of ironic that the two of them met through social media, he hopes Nevaeh is not one of those social zombies. Then this trip would be a waste of time and effort.

Ruby pulled his sunglasses down due to the sun starting to bother his eyes. Then he also wanted to cover his eyes and focus on something else while he waited. A minute later, Nevaeh walked out of the cafe's door backward with her back pushing the door open. In her hands, she had what she ordered; he wondered what she got. Rudy briskly stood up out of his seat to help her out.

"Hey, let me help you out," he walks around the table towards her, but she only nods him off.

"I got it, you sit."

"You have all the food and drinks in your hands; it's the least I can do." he stood off to the side, not interfering but reading despite what she said. He watches her struggle a bit and almost drops the stuff. Rudy immediately reached out, but Nevaeh had already saved herself and looked at him with a smile.

"I got it, Rudy. I was just pulling your leg." He picked up on the playfulness in her eyes, which made him pull his lips into a smile matching hers; her smile is definitely contagious.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands, backing away and then taking his seat. Nevaeh took her seat across from him, sat everything down before passing him the items she got him. “What’d you get us?”

“Well, I don’t know if you have had this before, but it’s my go-to thing to get here. It’s an acai bowl,” Nevaeh’s eyes caught his confused expression before he tried to cover it up with an understanding.  She laughed softly and explained further. “It’s like a smoothie bowl with other things in it.”

“Smoothie bowl…” he murmured more to himself, but she still heard it.

Shaking her head, she continued. “Acai palm is the main ingredient along with bananas and granola, but you can add other fruits or peanut butter and syrups. Or take things off.”

“Like maple syrup?” he asked, looking at the acai bowl she got him.

Her face begins to twist in disgust until she covers it with a shrug and looks down at her bowl, ready to dig in. “Uh, I guess if that’s what you want, then yeah.” She answered, and Rudy nodded his head and grabbed his spoon to take a taste. Before Nevaeh tasted her own, she watched Rudy, waiting for his reaction. He took a bite, letting the flavor invade his taste buds.

“Wow, this is good,” He says after swallowing. He glanced up, catching Nevaeh already looking at him. She quickly looked away and stirred her bowl.

“I’m glad you like it; it’s my second favorite one,” she peeked back up, and Rudy was still looking at her. Laughing softly to herself, then shaking her head, she takes a bite of her own, almost moaning at the taste. “I’m surprised you haven’t had one before.”

“ I have wanted to try one, but never really went with actually going out to get one.”

“Well, maybe now you will get them more often,” She says but stops herself before taking another bite. “Wait...you aren’t allergic to any fruit, are you? Or granola?”

He lifted a brow while getting another scoop. “Oh, only bananas,” He replies. Nevaeh watches him as he lifts the spoon to his mouth and takes another bite that includes bananas before she could reach across the table and stop him in time. “What?” he looked at her. Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her mouth opening to say something but closed when nothing came out. “Is there something wrong?”

Nodding her head slowly, she sat down her spoon and reached for her phone in her pocket just in case. "You ate a banana, and you just told me you were allergic to them." Nevaeh wanted to yell at him for being so careless, but that would mean she was too for not asking before ordering something random for him. She pretended to remain calm but was internally panicking.

"I actually eat them all the time," he held back the smile easing its way into his features. "I eat them quite often. They're a great source of potassium and vitamin C."

"So you aren't allergic to bananas?" she noted, and Rudy shook his head. His mouth broke out into the smile he managed to hold back for a few seconds. Nevaeh relaxed a bit, her shoulders dropping as she was no longer tense. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?" Rudy gasped softly, a hand placed on his chest as he looked at her, offended at her comment.

"What, me, an asshole? That can't be right, I'm really nice," he said and made Nevaeh huffed. "What do you not believe me?"

The woman shrugged, the smile still on her face when she looked down at her food. "Well, you did play a mean joke just now; I thought I almost killed you." She reminded him and picked at her bowl.

"I wanted to see how caring you were, and you passed the test. Now you love me, don't you?"

"You wish," she said, taking a bite then pointing at him with her spoon. "We're going on a road trip together, let's see if I survive that, then I'll let you know if I like you enough to be your friend or jump out of a moving car because you're an annoying little shit."

Rudy raised his eyebrows, smirking at her now. "Me being an annoying little...alright. Let's make a deal," he starts; Nevaeh gestures for him to continue. "If you survive this road trip, meaning - if you have a great time - I get to take you to my home town in Alaska. Ah, ah. I'm not finished." he held his finger up to stop her from making a comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, attempting to hide a simple, but you could see the amusement on her face. "If you don't have a great time, I'll do whatever you want."

"So, If I understand right, If you win, you get to take me to Alaska - assuming I haven't been there already,"

“Wait, you’ve been to Alaska?” Nevaeh held her finger up, echoing his movements moments before.

“If you win, you take me to Alaska, and if I win, you do whatever I want, correct?”

“Yeah, as long as it’s not too inappropriate or impossible,” He says, already finished with his acai bowl, which Nevaeh didn’t remember seeing him eat the rest. It didn’t matter when he ate it, she didn’t care, but that was quick. Looking down at her own, she wasn’t more than halfway done. “So, so we have a deal?”

Nevaeh looked up from her food, meeting his ocean-like eyes. The pair were becoming more familiar over the past few weeks from countless photos and videos the two have shared over Snapchat. Messages over text and facetime calls. They got to know each other digitally, and now they have to learn more in person. 

“We have a deal.” She says, and Rudy sticks his hand out, which she gladly took. They shook hands. While doing so, Rudy thought of a million possibilities to get the woman across from him to a great time and not just so he could take her to Alaska, his home. He found her intriguing, and he wants to take the time to get to know her better and maybe have a solid standing friendship at the end of it all. If the cosmos had a say, perhaps something more would blossom.

➣ End Note:

So, I honestly don’t know how the next few or future chapters will go but hopefully they turn out well. Here are the Revaeh interactions we all needed and plenty more to come so just you wait. ;)

AGAIN IF YOU WANT ME TO CONTINUE THE SERIES I WILL, JUST LET ME KNOW.

Wonder Taglist:

@Scooby6, @ifilwtmfc​, @rudypankowswife​, @themaddies-obx​

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[pulaasul]

Billy Batson and the Woes of Journalism

Billy takes Colin Creevey as an intern, as per Professor Mcgonagall's suggestion. There Billy teaches Colin on proper etiquette on taking pictures and sometimes vent on how the Daily Prophet and the entirety of Wizarding Britain's press media write their articles.

[FFN] [Ao3]

---------

Colin was nervous.

He didn't know why Gryffindor's head of house called him to her office. As far as he knew he didn't break any rules like some of his housemates did, even managed to stick by the curfew at the last second.

He has learned his lesson when the Chamber of Secrets was opened, thank you very much.

He wasn't even in the business of pranking like the Weasley twins were.

The Creevey knocked on the door and gulped down anything else that was on his mind.

"Professor Mcgonagall? You wanted to see me?"

"Yes Mr. Creevey!" Professor Mcgonagall nodded. "Come in, come in."

Colin nodded and went inside the room then closed the door behind him.

What caught Colin's immediate attention was that his transfigurations teacher wasn't alone in her office, there was another man seated by the chair facing the fireplace.

"Mr. Creevey I would like you to meet Mr. Batson from the Mudblood." Professor Mcgonagall introduced the man. "I'm sure you remember the person who taught muggle studies at the Great Hall."

Colin nodded as a response.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Creevey." The man offered his hand. "If you have forgotten my name, I'm William Batson."

"It's nice to meet you too Mr. Batson sir." Colin shyly shook the man's hand.

"William's fine." William chuckled.

"Please take a seat Mr. Creevey." Professor Mcgonagall ordered.

Colin nodded as he sat at the chair facing a table with stacks of parchment on top of it.

Professor Mcgonagall nodded as she took her seat behind the table while William took the seat beside the young boy.

"Mr. Creevey, I've received complaints regarding you and your camera. " The Deputy Headmistress cleared sorted the number of parchment on her table to the side. "You have the propensity to brandish your camera and take pictures anytime and anywhere with little regard to anyone near you." She relayed what she had heard. "Some of the staff has recommended that we confiscate your camera while some students had requested the same and even called for its destruction as, in their opinion, you became a nuisance especially for the students taking their OWLs and NEWTs."

Colin visibly sagged as he listened to Professor Mcgonagall's spiel. He knew he was being annoying when started taking pictures every chance he got. The maddest anyone has got due to his behavior was when he had the unfortunate circumstance of taking a picture of both Professor Snape and Mr. Filch, near curfew.

The flash from his camera caused Mrs. Norris to run away and almost fall down a flight of stairs.

"Holy Moley!" William exclaimed. "Surely you can't destroy a student's personal effects?"

"Naturally." Professor Mcgonagall agreed.

"That's good to know." William nodded.

The journalist opened his mouth to continue his line of thought when realization hit him. A smile adorned his face as he processed what he realized, he looked at Creevey and offered a smile.

"I see," William nodded. "I see where you're going with this Professor."

"I am here to offer you something Mr. Creevey." The deputy headmistress offered. "Hogwarts has never seen a passionate photographer in years, and one as talented as you." She handed William a piece of parchment. "In exchange for not brandishing your camera every chance you get, how would you like to be the Mudblood's youngest intern."

"I-I'm not expelled?"

"Of course not." Professor Mcgonagall shook her head. "Wherever did you get that idea Mr. Creevey?"

"I heard some students say that especially with Harry Potter's and Ron Weasley's arrival last year." Colin admitted.

"Your situation is rather minor compared to the infractions committed by Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley at the beginning of last year's term." Professor Mcgonagall huffed. "They could've just sent an owl regarding the matter at King's Cross but they had to fly Mr. Weasley's father's flying car."

"That's going to put a lot of work on the Obliviators." William winced. "And the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as well, considering the distance between Hogwarts and King's Cross station."

"An eight hour travel by train." Professor Mcgonagall nodded.

"I'm surprised Mr. Weasley's father wasn't sent to Azkaban for his son's stunt, it is a major breach of the Statute of Secrecy."

"Fortunately for the Weasley family, some muggles has come up of a reason for the phenomenon."

"That and the law regarding muggle artifacts enchanted by magic has major loopholes." William chuckled. "Mr. Weasley's father is rather clever."

"It's pure dumb luck." Professor Mcgonagall huffed. "In any case, what do you say Mr. Creevey?"

"If sir William Batson would have me."

"Nonsense Mr. Creevey, I would be delighted to have you around." William grinned. "My nephew, Billy, would love to have someone closer to his age around the offices."

"I'm sorry, nephew?"

"I'm homeschooling him since I came to his life." William admitted. "I didn't know Hogwarts would be accepting transfer students, especially someone older than a first year."

"If you don't mind me asking, how old is your nephew?"

"He's sixteen, a bit small for his age." William shrugged. "Late bloomer too, he discovered his magic during his 13th birthday."

"I can understand the need for homeschooling your nephew, although rare, some magical children do exhibit their magical gifts late." Professor Mcgonagall sighed.

"Enough about Billy." William swerved the topic back on track. "I do have questions about this arrangement with Mr. Creevey. First off, I would like for him to take pictures around the school so that I can mentor him on how to take a good photograph, especially moving ones."

Professor Mcgonagall nodded in agreement, the whole idea of letting Colin Creevey intern with the Mudblood was to hone his talent in photography both moving and still. It wouldn't be good for the boy if he were to be banned from taking pictures altogether.

"Tell me Mr. Creevey." William turned to the boy. "Did you ever ask for the consent of the people in your photographs?"

"No sir William." Colin admitted. "Once I see something I like, I would immediately try to snap a picture."

"Does that 'something you like' happen to be in the vicinity of students, teachers and staff?"

"Yes sir, most of the time."

"Well then, consider this your first lesson, you first need to ask if it's okay to take their pictures." William stated. "That way you can gain your subject's trust rather than hate you for taking unsolicited photographs that your subject might or might not find themselves in an unflattering position."

"Tell me Mr. Creevey, are your subjects in your photographs the students of this school?" Professor Mcgonagall asked.

"Not exactly professor." Colin shook his head. "Sometimes I find the sunrise at Gryffindor tower beautiful to look at so I take a picture of it."

"I see where this is going." William chuckled. "Am I right in assuming that most of the students complaining are Gryffindors?"

"Yes." The professor sighed.

"Of course they would complain, most find their sleeping positions and their wake up look unflattering, most especially if they just got out of bed, which is usually the case during early mornings in the common room." William grinned. "Next time, wait until no one is in front of your camera to take your picture, but if you really want it and people still keep on coming, especially if you're not one of the earliest risers, asking nicely would do the trick."

"I quite agree." Professor Mcgonagall nodded.

"So Colin, Can I call you Colin?"

Colin responded with a nod.

"What have you learned today Colin?" William asked.

"I need to ask for permission before taking someone's picture and if I want to capture a scenery I should wait until no one's in front of my camera or ask nicely."

"Good." William nodded. "Are you allowed to go to Hogsmead tomorrow?"

"He is." Professor Mcgonagall answered for the boy. "Provided that he has a chaperone from the staff, as I have meetings at the village almost every weekend, I can be that chaperone."

"Wouldn't that count as favoritism Professor?" William raised an eyebrow.

"Not necessarily, I've chaperoned students on parents' requests before." The deputy headmistress shook her head. "However, we still need for his parent's consent, which the two of us will ask sometime this week."

"Well then, if you are able Colin, meet me at Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, bring with you your camera and the photographs that you have already taken."

"I trust that you will not be brandishing your camera and take any unsolicited pictures Mr. Creevey?"

"Yes Professor Mcgonagall."

"You are dismissed."

Colin exited the room.

"Nephew?" Professor Mcgonagall raised an eyebrow.

"I can't have him knowing about my cursed form, now can I?" William grinned. "Besides, my supposed nephew is among the listed employees of the Mudblood."

"Isn't that a form of corruption?"

"Technically yes, I am getting paid as the Mudblood's editor-in-chief while also chucking out articles." William admitted. "My cursed form, being a separate entity, is also getting paid for producing articles hence getting double compensation. It's just fair, isn't it? I mean I am producing articles both as William and as Billy."

"I am not refuting your logic William." Professor Mcgonagall shook her head. "I would think that an auror as distinguished as you, one who has curtailed the corruption of the descendants of the scourers within MACUSA would be above that."

"So you have heard of that." William sighed.

"The Headmaster's power as the ICW's Supreme Mugwump does help out a lot when researching the backgrounds of people outside of Wizarding Britain, especially one who's arrival came as a surprise for the headmaster."

"Yeah, well, you can blame your current Minister of Magic for that." William sighed. "Seriously, every time I visit the Ministry for permits and travel authorities, the one approving my papers is the Junior Assistant, might as well make the Junior Assistant the Minister for all the work she's doing."

"Minister Fudge has qualities that's leaves a lot to be desired." Professor Mcgonagall sighed.

"What has he done?"

"He claims that Pettigrew is still under Ministry custody when in fact Madam Bones has contacted the school a week ago that he has escaped by placing a guard under the Imperious curse."

"He did what?!" William growled. "What of the Weasleys?"

"Madam Bones's hands are tied, Minister Fudge refused to put a protection detail near the Weasley's residence, and in fact he ordered the DMLE not to pursue the matter."

"Why won't Dumbledore do something about this?" William decided to ask.

"I don't know." Professor Mcgonagall shook her head. "As I understood his position, Albus's hands are tied as well, he can't oppose the Minister or Leader who he answers to."

"That pesky clause." William growled. "Didn't think that a clause that protects every magical government from usurpation from within the ICW would be unknowingly used to protect a criminal running free."

"You hold a seat at the ICW?"

"Don't count your owls yet Professor Mcgonagall." William shook his head. "With Dumbledore as the Supreme Mugwump, the ICW is powerless to act against your ministry, not unless other countries would jump to my aid, which is rather unlikely as I'm a new addition to the council and Pettigrew is largely a Britain problem and not the world."

"Anyway, back to Colin, am I right to assume that none of the students are allowed to be anywhere aside from Hogsmeade?"

"Unless there's an emergency or the headmaster gives an approval."

"Looks like I need to set up a hub at Hogsmeade then."

--------

"Glad you could make it Colin." William took a sip of tea from his cup. "Where's Professor Mcgonagall?"

"This is a lifetime opportunity Sir William sir." Colin enthusiastically replied as he too took a sip of tea. "After we saw you outside, she immediately ordered me to stay here until she would fetch me, she also told me to request you not to leave until she's here to fetch me."

"Just William's fine." William smiled. "I can live with that." He nodded. "In any case, can I see your photographs?"

Colin nodded as he enlarged a stack of photographs he retrieved from his pant pocket and handed them over to William for inspection.

"You've mastered the engorgement and shrinking charms." William commented.

"I wouldn't say I mastered them but I've used them on a lot of occasions, mainly to easily carry things around." Colin admitted. "I don't think people would appreciate me carrying around muggle backpacks, especially the Slytherin people."

"You didn't have to justify yourself Colin." William ruffled the boy's hair. "I was just commenting on your use of the spells."

William looked through the stack of photographs the young boy has taken. He first sorted through the ones Colin took during first year, most of which were still pictures, before moving on to the photographs the young boy took during the current year.

From the looks of things, the boy learnt from his mistakes, even when he was teaching himself. The boy even learned to make pictures move at the end of his first year, which was a feat in of itself.

"Tell me Colin, who taught you to make your pictures move?"

"It was Professor Flitwick sir." Colin admitted. "I might've tried to get a picture of the feather he was levitating which earned me a detention." He chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. "I know it wasn't one of my brightest moments."

"A Gryffindor to the core." William chuckled. "What did you do with Professor Flitwick?"

"Surprisingly, he just asked me to get something for him at the top of a shelf then taught me how to make the pictures move after developing them."

"I'm guessing, Professor Flitwick gave you access to a dark room?"

"Yes sir." Colin nodded.

"Moving on." William declared. "Would you sit beside me Colin, we'll begin lesson two."

Colin obliged and sat beside the older man as they stared at a few pictures of one Harry Potter.

"First off, you need to adjust your lens so that you'll have a proper focus on your subject or get a find a suitable location that would force your lens to focus on your subject." William pointed at Harry's wide-eyes and blurred figure. "One would think that your subject was the blond Slytherin behind Mr. Potter."

Behind the blurry but wide-eyed figures of Harry, Ron and Hermoine was Draco Malfoy with narrowed eyes.

"Tha-that's Draco Malfoy!"

"Was he your subject when you took the picture?"

"I was introducing myself to Harry at the Great Hall." Colin blushed. "For the 20th time I think."

"Someone's a fanboy." William teased.

"He's Harry Potter! The Boy-who-lived!"

"One thing you need to keep in mind Colin is that all our human subjects are indeed human, people." William shook his head. "They all have feelings, dreams and ambitions in life, it would just annoy some people with how you treat them as an object of affection rather than their own person."

"Hence we need to ask for their permission when taking their picture." Colin sighed.

"You're a quick study." William praised.

"I had the whole evening to think about what you and Professor Mcgonagall said.

"So long as you understand now, it's okay." William smiled.

William picked another photograph, another still one. He showed the picture to the young boy.

"Tell me what's wrong with this picture Colin."

The photograph showed someone eating an apple too close to the camera as others were studying in the Great Hall, judging from the girl's robes, she was a Ravenclaw student.

"Someone was in the way of my subject?" Colin questioned, unsure of the answer.

"Am I right in assuming that this person in the photograph walked in just as you captured the picture?" William questioned.

Colin nodded. "I wanted to take a picture of Harry Potter when he was studying."

"Instead you got a picture of someone eating an apple walking between you and your subject." William raised an eyebrow.

Colin had the decency to blush at the comment.

"No one can really do anything about this case, apart from the first lesson we had yesterday." William stated. "The next right thing to do would be retaking the photograph again."

The discussion between Colin and William continued on until lunch when the older man treated the young boy. As the both of them ate, the young boy enthusiastically what he thought of Hogwarts, his peers, his housemates and of course his hero, one Harry Potter.

In retrospect, it does explain the multitude of photographs of the famed boy-who-lived.

"I'm gonna have to stop you there Colin." William spoke. "You do know that Harry was only a year old when he supposedly defeated you-know-who?"

"Really?" Colin questioned. "From what I read when after buying some books was that Harry dueled against you-know-who."

"Think about it for a second Colin, what year is Harry currently?"

"Third year? Why?"

"How old is he?"

"Thirteen?"

"Do the math."

"But the books said…" Colin trailed off.

"Here's a life lesson for you Colin." William smiled at the young boy. "You shouldn't believe everything you read or hear at face value."

"Face value?"

"You shouldn't take things literally." William explained.

Colin was silent as he mulled over William's words. In retrospect, he did notice that Harry was annoyed whenever he brought up the boy-who-lived title within his earshot and the level of annoyance Harry exhibit whenever he's near is different from the level of annoyance he has observed on everyone else.

Harry was just too polite to say anything to anyone or to him, unlike some of the other students who wanted to have his camera destroyed.

"Should I apologize to him?"

"You could, but I think he doesn't blame you." William looked at the boy. "Neither do I, a lot of the adults are perpetuating the idea that Harry is some powerful wizard who managed to defeat you-know-who as a baby. Personally I blame the publishers and adults who normalized that way of thinking."

"One of the things why you started a news magazine here?" Colin asked.

"I've read some articles by the Daily Prophet and by Merlin those were bad, really bad."

"How so?"

"For one they don't follow the proper way in writing their headlines and articles." William growled." Seriously adding in, I quote: writes Rita Skeeter your special correspondent', into the article lessens its credibility."

"You really have some bone to pick with how the news are written here." Colin chuckled.

"The list of my grievances of the press media in Wizarding Britain doesn't end there." William shook his head. "I could go on and on, but we'd lose precious time with me ranting." He chuckled.

After lunch William continued inspecting Colin's photographs and imparted lessons about the proper ways to take pictures and proper etiquette when before, during and after taking them. In addition to the photography lessons that William has been teaching the young boy since their meeting with Professor Mcgonagall.

"Looks like the sun is about to set and I see Professor Mcgonagall approaching the shop." William observed. "Let's continue this next week, I'm introducing you to some of the Mudblood's employees."

"Really?"

"You're already an intern, you should know them." William shrugged.

"Thank you so much Mr. Batson sir!" Colin thanked the journalist profusely.

William merely shook his head as Colin's infectious enthusiasm put a smile on his face.

"I told you William's fine." The journalist smiled at the young boy. "Since the sun's setting, practice the spells I taught you alright?"

"Will do!"

---------

"Have you waited long Colin?" William waved at the young boy inside the shop.

"I just arrived myself William." Colin waved back. "Professor Mcgonagall told me the same thing last time."

"I had already told her that I was going to leave you with my employees for the day." William gestured for a blonde man beside him. "Oscar, this is Colin Creevey, he's the Hogwarts intern I've been telling you all about." He placed his hand on the young Creevey's head.

"Hello Colin." Oscar offered his hand to the young boy. "I'm Oscar Ollerton, I'm a pureblood Wizard." He introduced himself to the young boy.

"H-hello, I'm Colin Creevey." Colin introduced himself. "I'm a muggleborn wizard." He whispered.

"Come now Creevey, there's no need to be whisper your blood status, you do know that the Mudblood's owner is a muggleborn himself."

"I-I know." Colin nodded.

"Well I guess with the Slytherin lot, you'd have to be careful." Oscar sighed. "In any case, welcome to the Mudblood." He patted the young boy's back. "Between the three of us, I believe muggleborns are simply related to squibs that were disowned by wizarding families." He shared. "Or of half-bloods, Merlin knows there are more half-bloods than there are pureblood wizards these days."

"Especially with the three generation rule." William interjected. "Oscar I'm placing Colin and Billy in your care." He informed the other man. "Professor Mcgonagall is going to pick Colin up at the end of the day."

"You know Billy can take care of himself, right William?"

"Another pair of eyes never hurt anyone Oscar." William smiled. "Billy would be bringing the other employees who are off duty today, get Colin acquainted with you guys."

"Where will you be William?" Colin asked, curious as to why the owner won't be with them.

"I'm off to the Ministry later today, I'm preparing for my documents for my trip back to the Americas later in the month."

"We'll miss you and Billy, William." Oscar stated.

"Holy Moley, you're acting like we're leaving Wizarding Britain for good Oscar." William chuckled. "This is like the fiftieth time I'm going to the Americas since arriving here. I'm just sorting out the Mudblood papers in MACUSA and the ICW."

"Aren't the ICW meeting venues dependent on who the current Supreme Mugwump is?" Oscar questioned. "In this case, it would be here in Britain?"

"Normally yes," William nodded. "But any of the council members can request to hold meetings in other places, subject to the Supreme Mugwump's approval."

"This time it's the Americas?"

"I don't know, I have to confirm it to MACUSA's current President, President Calderon"

"Huh, I blame Professor Binns for my ignorance about the Wizarding World, especially the ICW." Oscar huffed. "Anyway, Billy and the others must be waiting for you William."

"Okay, Oscar you take charge in introducing Colin to the rest, including Billy."

"Will do."

William vanished with a lightning strike.

"What just happened?" Colin managed to ask, unable to process what has happened.

"While waiting, I'll explain to you what William and I were talking about." Oscar patted Colin's shoulder. "I do hope I'm good at explaining things than Professor Binns."

"I can't keep my eyes open whenever Professor Binns is the teacher." Colin shyly admitted.

"Only a rare few can." Oscar chuckled. "Thankfully I read all my History of Magic textbooks."

---------

"Wow Oscar." Billy grinned. "You've managed to corrupt someone yet again."

"What do you mean corrupt Billy?" Oscar replied indignantly. "Colin was curious as to what your uncle and I were talking about."

"Forgive my friend Oscar kid, he tends to talk everyone's ear off, especially to the ones who would actually listen." Billy chuckled. "Aren't you supposed to introduce us to the kid Oscar?"

"Fine." Oscar rolled his eyes. "Everyone from the Mudblood, please meet Colin Creevey, he's our photographer intern here."

"William's accepting interns now?"

"Yes, Goldstein." Oscar nodded. "Why don't you guys introduce yourselves?"

"Hello Colin," Billy grinned at the young boy. "I'm Billy Batson." He introduced himself. "I'm a no-maj born from the Americas, discovered that I had magic when I was thirteen."

"I'm Mary Atkinson." The woman beside Billy smiled. "I'm a half-blood, my deceased mother was a witch." She shared.

"I'm Frederick Fawcett, a pureblood wizard." The boy to the right of Billy introduced himself. "Did you know that William originally wanted to name the news site Fawcett but decided not to when he found out about my family."

"Does not mean William favors you Freddy." Mary rolled his eyes. "Please try to forgive him, he can be quite vain."

"Hey!"

A few more employees of the Mudblood introduced themselves to Colin, eager to meet the new intern for the company.

From what Colin observed, most of the Mudblood's employees were on the young side, the youngest was in their mid-20s and the oldest was in their late 30s, well except for Batson who's in his mid teens. In hindsight, from what Colin had gathered, the news magazine was relatively new and it made sense that the employees were relatively young.

Apart from Ollerton, Atkinson, Fawcett and Batson, Colin also met an Alves, a Maestro, a Wright, a Bailey, a Wilson, a Goldstein, a Macfusty, and an Alton during his day with the other employees of the Mudblood at Hogsmead.

"This is just half of the entire workforce of the Mudblood." Billy informed. "These guys are supposed to be on their day off, well some of them had their day offs moved to this day, just to meet you."

"I feel sorry for the people who remained at the office, hence some of us would be returning for duty after lunch." Mary sighed.

"They must be swamped with work." Freddy shivered at the thought.

"So tell us how you got to be an intern Colin?" Oscar questioned the boy. "In the years that the Mudblood has existed, William hasn't taken in any interns until now."

Colin blushed at the mere thought of how he got the internship but he nonetheless shared the story enthusiastically he then got to know his relatively older colleagues.

---------

Colin was nervous as he made his way to Professor Mcgonagall's office. He kept on thinking on what he had done for the past week and nothing came to mind as to the reason for this particular summon.

Colin hasn't violated any rules, he managed to get inside the Gryffindor common room before curfew, he hasn't even violated the deal he had struck with his head of house, while he was still wearing his camera on his neck and he didn't brandish the camera every time he wanted to capture a scene.

The Creevey knocked on the door.

"Mr. Creevey, you're just in time." Professor Mcgonagall opened the door. "Come inside, I trust that you brought your camera with you?"

"Yes Professor."

"Very good," The deputy headmistress nodded. "As it happens we were just waiting for you."

Colin was confused, why would anyone wait for him inside Professor Mcgonagall's office.

He entered the office and the room was full of people, from the entire Weasley family to William to the Headmaster himself.

"Colin?" Ginny exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Ginny?" Colin did a double take on who called him. "I… I don't know." He admitted.

"Am… Am I in trouble?"

"No dear boy." Dumbledore shook his head. "You are here at the request of Mr. Batson."

"William?"

"Yes Colin." William nodded. "I would like you to take photographs for the interview I'm taking."

"Children?" The Weasley matriarch called. "Could you introduce us?"

"Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie this is Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor in Ginny's year." The Gryffindor Head Boy obliged. "Colin, this is my family, you've met the twins, Ronald and Ginny." He gestured towards the Weasleys that the Creevey knew. "This is my mother: Molly Weasley, My father: Arthur Weasley and my older brothers: Bill and Charlie Weasley."

"Nice to meet you Messers and Mrs. Weasley, I'm Colin Creevey."

"What a polite young boy." Molly praised. "You say you're in Ginny's year?"

"Yes Mrs. Weasley." Colin nodded.

"He's a big fan of Harrys." Ron supplied.

"Could give Ginny a run for her galleons." The twins snickered.

"I wasn't that bad!" Ginny huffed.

Colin blushed at how the Weasleys described him, he really gave a bad first impressions.

"Now that we're all introduced, I would like to get this interview underway." William declared. "I'm sure Messers Weasley are being missed at their respective workplaces."

The Weasleys straightened their postures as they prepared for the interview.

"Before we begin, should my paper not reveal your names for the paper, our organization values the privacy of all our subjects."

"Please do." Arthur nodded. "Knowing Scabbers was a death eater, other followers of you-know-who could strike at any moment."

"Well then, Colin remember what I taught you last week."

"Yes sir." Colin nodded. "Only take pictures of their neck below and only take still pictures, no need of the potions to move them."

"Still?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Yes still." William nodded. "Body language can still be used to identify someone if we take moving pictures, the entirety of the Weasley family could be compromised, making their request to remain anonymous moot."

"I see, carry on."

"Wait." Professor Mcgonagall interrupted. "What about Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys? Unlike their children, they aren't qualified to wear school-sanctioned robes."

"Right!" William nodded. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, if it's not too much to ask, can we ask you to wear these." He handed the Weasley parents two sets of robes. "Your anonymity would be compromised if people can identify you through your clothes." He explained.

"I do apologize for giving you trouble Mr. Batson." Molly apologized. "I didn't realize a simple request such as this would be so troublesome."

"Not at all." William shook his head. "We at the Mudblood value our subjects' requests and privacy." He smiled at the Weasley family. "Shall we get started then?"

William started to question the entire family starting with the family's head, Arthur Weasley then his wife, Molly and next were the children the twins and then Ginny.

Percy and Ron were the last people to be questioned as they were the first and last owners of the rat animagus.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for your time." William thanked the Weasley parents. "This should shed some light as to how Pettigrew was able to escape and hide from the authorities."

"It was our pleasure." Molly smiled. "I do admit being shocked upon learning that a supposed dead man has disguised himself as my son's pet." She admitted. "The thought that someone who could have been a death eater living in our home was disconcerting to say the least."

"I know." William offered a strained smile. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but Pettigrew has escaped Ministry custody earlier this week."

"The Daily Prophet said that he hasn't." Molly's eyes widened even with Percy's denial. "Minister Fudge said so, even your paper reported that Mr. William."

"That is the official stance of the Ministry." William nodded. "Regardless of the Minister's stance on the issue, I believe you won't lose anything if you would prepare yourselves for any event." He offered.

"Constant Vigilance, as my good friend Moody would say." Dumbledore interjected.

"Thank you for informing us Mr. Batson." Arthur thanked the news reporter. "I don't think I will gamble my family's life and safety on the Minister's words."

"That would be for the best." William nodded. "I'll send your family an owl and give you a hundred galleons in a week or two."

"No, no that won't be necessary Mr. Batson." Arthur shook his head, trying to politely decline the offer.

"Don't get me wrong Arthur, every the Mudblood subject is legible to get monetary compensation for sharing to us their side of their story." William smiled. "This will also include the monetary compensation for your children back when Pettigrew was first discovered within the castle walls."

"If that's the case, then we thank you for the compensation Mr. Batson." Arthur sighed.

"I am simply adapting the muggle press standard in the Americas." William admitted. "I am also of the opinion that the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly adapt the same system but alas everyone's disdain for muggles here in Wizarding Britain is prominent."

"You do not include the Quibbler?" Percy questioned.

"The Quibbler hardly have as many subscribers as the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly do." William shook his head. "I don't think Mr. Lovegood could pay for the compensation of his subjects."

The Weasleys exchanged goodbyes to everyone in the room before exiting.

"Mr. Creevey, why don't you tour Mr. Batson around the school?"

"No that's okay Headmaster." William shook his head. "Colin still has to develop the pictures he took today and I need them for tomorrow's paper." He explained. "Remember the spell to fast track the development of still pictures."

Colin nodded excitedly.

"You have brewed the potions correct?" William asked some more.

Colin continued to nod as a response.

"Off you go then, I'll send you a Patronus if I want to meet with you immediately."

"Right away William." Colin gave the Batson a salute before he exited the room.

"Are you certain you will be okay on your own Mr. Batson?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Positive." William nodded. "Although I must thank you for discovering the Patronus charm's communicating properties, it has been a literal lifesaver, especially for the MACUSA aurors."

"Think nothing of it Mr. Batson." Professor Dumbledore smiled. "It was needed during our fight against Voldemort."

"Still, thank you for divulging that particular spell to the ICW."

"Glad to be of help Mr. Batson." Professor Dumbledore nodded.

---------

William exited Professor Mcgonagall's office and leisurely walked around the castle's halls. He looked around and saw various prefects about to begin their patrol. He even saw Professor Flitwick, Percy Weasley and Colin Creevey talking with each other.

"I trust that this wouldn't be a common occurrence Creevey?" William heard Percy question. "You may have been with me and my family and took some photographs, it doesn't mean that you can wander around past curfew."

"It's quite alright Mr. Weasley." Professor Flitwick assured. "Professor Mcgonagall has informed me Mr. Creevey's circumstances, I will personally lead him to the Gryffindor common room once he is finished with his tasks."

"Please don't trouble yourself Professor." Percy shook his head. "After I've met with the prefects on duty for the night, I will see to it that Mr. Creevey will be back to the Gryffindor Tower myself."

"Mr. Creevey, please proceed to the Dark Room, just near the Ravenclaw tower." Professor Flitwick ordered. "I will negotiate with the school's head boy."

Colin merely nodded obliged with the order given to him.

"I commend you for your adherence to the rules Mr. Weasley, 10 points to Gryffindor." Professor Flitwick praised. "However, I must insist that I escort Mr. Creevey back to Gryffindor Tower as I am aware of the many tasks Mr. Creevey has on his plate." He explained. "I am there both to ensure Mr. Creevey's safety as he deals with the various tasks of printing the photographs and guide him for his first time-constrained work."

"Time-constrained?"

"You are aware that the interview you have had with the Mudblood news magazine was abrupt?"

"I must admit it was disconcerting to be called to my Head of House's office had the twins put themselves in trouble." Percy nodded.

"Mr. Creevey was also caught unaware of this interview," Professor Flitwick sighed. "And the photos are needed for tomorrow's paper, you understand?"

"I see what you mean for this being a time-constrained project." Percy nodded. "Very well, if both the headmaster and Professor Mcgonagall are aware of this arrangement, then I guess I'll concede to your directive Professor Flitwick."

The Charm's professor nodded. "Run along now, I'm sure the Head girl and the other prefects are waiting for you."

William smiled at the interaction between the student and teacher. He can already tell that Percy Weasley will be most efficient working in the Ministry, his work-ethic would leave him untainted by the Ministry's corruption, barring the Imperious curse of course.

The journalist continued on walking around the school's hallways aimlessly. William didn't have an exact location in mind to go visit, but there was this pull on his core, on his magic, on his very person that he couldn't help but let it lead him.

William arrived at the castle's seventh floor, a floor he had yet to explore. He felt that the pull was stronger here, as if it was a child impatient for their chaperone to keep up with them. He shook his head and let it lead him to a blank wall.

"This is where you were." William smiled as he caressed the wall.

Soon enough, a majestic door appeared on the wall. William pushed the door that just appeared and went inside.

[itsamejin]

leave me || part 2 || suga angst ||

Part 1

Warning: heavy angst, cheating

Summary: He’s cheating and you’re aware. You just don’t know what to do about it.

–

In hindsight, you should've been the one to kick him out. Caught up in the moment, your time spent packing was filled with tears rather than logical thinking. It was your apartment- why did you let him keep it? Groaning at your own carelessness, you buried your face onto your hands.

Another stupid notification rang. It's been a whole day since you left. You expected him to give up by now. Glaring at the text notification, you decided to turn your phone off for good.

Heaving out a deep sigh, you took a good look around your old room with the piles of boxes scattered around. Photos of your childhood peppered the walls. Your heart sunk especially when your eyes locked onto a polaroid picture of Yoongi and you in high school uniforms. Those days, it was truly just you and him against the world.

Pondering on it more, you realized it was the best decision to up and leave. Having to move back in with your parents after a breakup was embarrassing, but it couldn't compare to the amount of pain you'd feel if you had to stay in that godforsaken apartment. All those memories, all those nights being lonely for no reason. You were so over it. Moving back in would be a new chapter of your life; you're sure of it.

As you stood up to take the photo down from the wall, there was a subtle knock on your door.

"[Y/N] I'm coming in!" your mother's voice gently spoke.

Although she wasn't usually softspoken, she knew you were having a tough time. It was a mother's duty to act a little kinder after such a bad breakup.

"Can I ask you something, dear?" she sounded a little dejected, phone in hand and palms sweaty.

A little voice in your head knew it wasn't gonna be good. That whatever she was about to say would break you no matter what.

"Yeah, sure," you replied nervously.

Your mother cleared her throat and took a seat next to you.

"So, dear, what do we do if Yoongi starts messaging us as well?"

Your eyes widened and a part of your heart dropped. You didn't think he'd go this far. You didn't think he'd care as much as he did now.

"What has he been saying?"

Your mother crinkled her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Would you like to see for yourself?"

She offered you the phone. Taking it hesitantly, you were shocked to see the number of texts he had given to your mother alone.

"Has dad been getting texts as well?" you asked.

"Not as much as me. Yoongi did like me more after all," she chuckled, stopping when she noticed the sadness in your eyes.

"I'll leave this here, dear. Give me back the phone when you're done," she said, standing up from beside you.

Watching your mother walk out the door, you weren't sure if you were ready to read the texts. Was it even right that you read them in the first place? Taking a deep breath, you scrolled up to the first one he sent.

Son-in-law: Hello, Mrs. [Y/L/N]. It's me, Yoongi. I noticed your daughter had been missing since yesterday morning. I was trying to call you, but it seems that you're busy. All of her stuff is gone too. Is she with you perhaps?

A little angry with the nickname she had for Yoongi, you were glad that she only responded with a bland "yes, she is." Your lips quivered at the formal way he spoke with your mother. How he was still able to put up his front even when you had already broken things off with him.

Maybe you should've left him a letter. A long hefty letter detailing your harboring resentment and how he should fuck off and be happy with Jieun now that you're out of the picture. But you weren't the type of person to be that brave. You would rather leave and keep him guessing, torment him like how he had done to you.

The next few texts were a little more distressed, a little more desperate. It was as if a different person had taken Yoongi's phone and texted for him.

Son-in-law: That's great. Can I speak to her?

Son-in-law: It's fine if she doesn't want to. Please just let her know that I want to talk.

Son-in-law: She deserves an explanation, at least. I do too. Please just tell her.

Son-in-law: Mrs. [Y/L/N]? I beg of you. I just want her to talk to me.

Son-in-law: Please. I miss her.

The last text made you glare at the phone. He was so, so good at acting like he cared. He should have received an Oscar along with all those shitty awards he's been getting lately. Seething, you blocked Yoongi's number on your mother's phone. It would keep him away just for a little longer.

It didn't make you happy in the slightest knowing he wanted to talk to you. It made you feel guilty when you shouldn't be. You opened up your own phone out of curiosity. 

The first few texts were hostile, obviously going through the shock of finding all your things missing. First of all, he asked you about laundry and that did not set off a good tone for the rest of the messages that came. At around midnight, he had called you a bitch. Which, fair enough, he was probably drunk because there was an influx of voicemails that poured in during that time as well.

You were afraid to listen to them. You weren't so weak to come crawling back, but what if you misunderstood everything? What if you were wrong? Was there even a Jieun to be so upset about? Was he just more distant than usual?

Taking a leap of faith, you opened up the very first one. Your hopes were somewhat high. Maybe if this were all just a misunderstanding, you could give him a second chance.

Instead of his slightly accented voice, you were greeted by a soft-spoken woman. Your blood went cold.

"Hi, Yoongi left his phone at my apartment. This is his sister, right? I'm his girlfriend Jieun, I just wanted to know if he's okay. Tonight he looked really-"

You screamed and threw your phone onto the ground, stopping the audio because of the impact. Your lips quivered and your hands were shaking. You were brought back down into the coldness of reality. You sat on the bed as you felt tears come down your eyes. Bringing your knees onto your face, you sobbed into them.

You were right. He was an asshole and once again, you naively tried to think better of him. No more. You would never, ever forgive him again. There could be no more excuses.

–

It took you a good six hours of laying on your bed and scrolling through social media to really get Jieun's voicemail out of your head. You deleted every possible thing related to Yoongi on your phone, blocked his name on social media and even Jieun’s. You didn't bother to read the stupid texts or listen to the voicemails. He wasn't worth it. The pain, the sadness, every single sacrifice you made for him. What made you think it was okay to ever trust him?

You eyed the promise ring that adorned your index finger. You wondered if it was the right time to take it off. But it reminded you so much of a certain memory, you couldn't possibly. 

Finally making a move to stand up, you walked towards the boxes and started unpacking them one by one. Being productive would get your mind out of it.

It didn't really help, though, that everything reminded you of him. The mason jars you owned were often used as his pencil holders, your notebooks had ripped out pages for his music notes, and even your childhood teddy bear still had Yoongi's scent on it. Ruffling your hair, you soldiered on. It didn't get easier, the more items you pulled out, but you'd learn to get over it. At least, you hoped so.

--

Yoongi's POV

--

Yoongi sat in the recording studio with a blank look on his face. If one were to look at him, they'd think he was a statue. His phone was faced downward and turned off. He needed absolute silence at the moment.

He got it back in the morning when Jieun dropped it off at the dorm. Yoongi cringed internally when she told him that she left a voice message to his sister. He had to think for a good minute as to who she was talking about, but then he realized. He contacted you endlessly, even going as far as messaging your family. But somehow you blocked his number. Which only led him to contact your friends, but there was never a reply.

Even if he was trying to take his mind off of things now, there was still a dull ache in his chest that he couldn't get rid of.

Yoongi got too drunk last night, stumbled into Jieun's apartment, fucked her, and left. It sounded vulgar, but that was honestly all he could remember. The alcohol couldn't suppress the pain well enough so he figured sex could. It didn’t work. No matter what, his heart still felt constricted. Even now as he replayed his new track over and over again, he couldn't believe that this was all happening.

--

It was the day when you left. Yoongi slept in Jieun's house the night before. He walked into the apartment, barely noticing its bare state, and saw that his favorite jumper was still in the laundry basket. He sent a hostile text to you. He was always so annoyed lately. 

Maybe that came with being together with someone for so long; you slowly just start getting sick of their existence. But when he walked into the bedroom and towards the closet, he was shocked to see that all your clothes were missing. He suspected burglary and everything in between but when he made his way to call the police, he stopped. He remembered what happened yesterday when his company told him that his relationship with Jieun would be revealed and without thinking, Yoongi agreed to it. He knew what this was about and he couldn't help but get angrier. He wasn’t sure if it was at you or with himself.

Nevertheless, he drowned his sorrows in alcohol.

--

As Yoongi tapped his fingers to the rhythm of the bass, he couldn't help but grimace at how quiet it has been for him. No one cared as much as you did, no one barged in his studio more than you. Your presence was always there, eating at him. Sometimes Yoongi felt suffocated and maybe it was harsh to think that way of someone he loves, but now it was a different type of suffocation. He felt guilt. If you gave him the chance to explain, what would he even say?

"I'm sorry I wasted your time on someone like me, but I fell in love with another girl and I'm just bored and annoyed with the relationship we have now" wasn't really that accurate. Although it held some truth, none of his feelings were that black and white.

Of course he still loves you. That wouldn't ever change. You've been with him since the start when there was no worth to his name and he was just a regular guy. You would always be his. 

But the side-effect of being in such a long relationship was that he no longer felt that same puppy love you two shared. Instead, it was a mutual understanding. A silent connection you two shared. But Yoongi hated that type of love. He always wanted it to be loud and boisterous and it showed in his music. But lately, it felt like you wanted to keep everything under wraps. That everything should be lowkey just because he was a celebrity. It constricted him even more.

Stopping the music, Yoongi glanced at his desk drawer. He pulled it open and took out a small, velvet box. It was a nice royal blue. He hadn't taken it out in so long that dust had started to collect. He opened it with hesitancy.

Inside was a beautiful ring. A nice diamond adorned the middle and an engraving of your anniversary date inside. It made him smile, but it wasn't that of happiness. It was more like a smile of regret. The memories that whirled around his head on the night that he proposed to you and you so softly rejected. It had already been a year since then, yet he couldn't get your dejected expression out of his head.

He thought you'd be happy. He genuinely did. Yoongi spent months planning it. A nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, a night stroll next to the Han river. There was no one in sight and he already asked for your parents' blessing the night before. It truly felt like a dream- up until he kneeled down in front of you.

"[Y/N]" he started, voice unstable. "I know I'm not the best at talking or showing my emotions, but I want you to know that I love you."

He opened the box and he could've sworn he saw your expression worsen.

"W-will you marry me?" he rushed. It should've been the perfect night, the perfect timing. And in some twisted way, it wasn't. Because instead of enveloping him in an embrace and chanting out a "yes!", you blankly stared at him with an awkward expression.

You couldn't look him in the eyes and you started fiddling with your thumbs.

"No, Yoongi. I don't think now is the right time to get married," she said straightforwardly. In a state of shock, Yoongi stayed on the ground until she reluctantly helped to pull him up.

"I love you, but I just don't think marriage is a good idea. Let's just forget about this, okay?"

He stood, mouth open but no words came out. Yoongi nodded, but he didn't really understand what was being said.

"Thank you, really. It makes me happy that you want to get married, but-"

The look in your eyes, the way it made him feel. It was like you were disgusted with the idea of spending the rest of your life with him.

You didn't know it, but that night, on the balcony of your shared apartment- he cried. The moon as his only witness, realizing how much of a fool he was. He didn't know why you rejected him and he didn't want to know why. Not when his friends and family asked how it went. Not when your parents started calling him son-in-law. These feelings of anguish, of complete rejection, stayed with him for the coming months. He acted normally for a while, but then he started to make excuses.

"I forgot we had a date-"

"I'm sorry something came up at work-"

"I'm too tired right now, let's not-"

Yoongi avoided you so often, he couldn't remember the last time you had a proper dinner together. In fact, he was so good at acting like an asshole he started being an actual one too.

And then he met Jieun, a gorgeous girl that smiled way too much. She was annoying at first, reminding him of how you used to be. Then as he got to know her, the weight of the world felt so much lighter. Because after you turned down his proposal, he started having doubts about everything. He wanted you to hurt like him. He wanted you to have the same insecurities he had about himself. He couldn't help but think such destructive thoughts.

How could you continue on with your life and act like nothing happened? Like you hadn't completely shattered his heart when you said no to his proposal? How could he act like he was fine when he was the one clearly suffering?

Yoongi shook his head from the flooding memories. A tear fell and soon another. He was crying in his dark recording studio and in that moment he felt truly pathetic. That a cheater like him still had the guts to blame you for it all. The texts he sent you last night berating you, calling you names. He regretted it, but you can't turn back the clock. It was over now. Only the dull ache of his chest remained.

As he stared into the ring's diamond, he wondered. When had he started to lose you?

Was it when he proposed?

Or was it when you found out about Jieun?

He closed the velvet box. Yoongi's mind didn't know when. All he knew was that he fucked up either way.

–

AN: Part 2 is done and wow can I say this was so hard to write, I just didn’t know how to phrase certain things. Thank you so much for the overwhelming support! How do y'all feel about Yoongi? Still hate him? (You probably should.) Expect some more Jieun soon... in part 3!

Tags: @jaiuneamesolitaiire @milady-mira @somewhereinthestarss

[maximelebled]

2019 & 2020

Hello everyone! So yeah, this yearly blog post is about three... four months late... it covers two years now.

I did have a lot of things written last year, last time, but the more things have changed, the more I’ve realized that a lot of things I talked about on here... were because I lacked enough of a social life to want to open up on here.

In a less awkwardly-phrased way, what I’m saying is, I was coping.

Not an easy thing to admit to in public by any means, but I reckon it’s the truth. Over the past two years, I’ve made more of an effort to build better & healthier friendships, dial back my social media usage a bit (number 1 coping strategy), not tie all my friendships to games I play, especially Dota (number 2 coping strategy), so that I could be more emotionally healthy overall. 

Pictured: me looking a whole lot like @dril on the outside, although not so much on the inside. (Photo by my lovely partner.)

To some degree, I believe it’s important to be able to talk about yourself a bit more openly in a way that is generally not encouraged nor made easy on other social networks (looking at you, Twitter). I know that 2010-me would be scared to approach 2020-me; and it’s my hope that what I am writing here would not help him with that, but also help him become less of an insecure dweeb faster. 😉

Not that recent accomplishments have stopped me from being any less professionally anxious. Sometimes the impostor syndrome just morphs into... something else.

Anyway, what I’m getting at is, the first reason it took me until this year to finish last year’s post is because, with my shift in perspective, and these realizations about myself, I do want to keep a lot more things private... or rather, it’s that I don’t feel the need to share them anymore? And that made figuring out what to write a fair bit harder.

The other reason I didn’t write sooner is because, in 2018, I wrote my "year in review” post right before I became able to talk about my then-latest cool thing (my work on Valve’s 2018 True Sight documentary). So I then knew I’d have to bring it up in the 2019 post. But then, I was asked to work on the 2019 True Sight documentary, and I know it was going to air in late January 2020, so I was like, “okay, well, whatever, it, I’ll just write this yearly recap after that, so I don’t miss the coach this time”. So I just ended up delaying it again until I was like... “okay, whatever, I’ll just do both 2019 and 2020 in a single post.”

I think I can say I’ve had the privilege of a pretty good 2019, all things considered. And also of a decent 2020, given the circumstances. Overall, 2019 was a year of professional fulfillment; here’s a photo taken of me while I was managing the augmented reality system at The International 2019! (The $35 million dollar Dota 2 tournament that was held, this that year, in Shanghai.)

If I’d shown this to myself 10 years ago it would’ve blown my mind, so I guess things aren’t all that bad...!

I’ve brought up two health topics in these posts before: weight & sleep.

As for the first, the situation is still stable. If it is improving, it is doing so at a snail’s pace. But quite frankly, I haven’t put in enough effort into it overall. Even though I know my diet is way better than it was five or six years ago, I’ve only just really caught up with the “how it should have been the entire time” stage. It is a milestone... but not necessarily an impressive one. Learning to cook better things for myself has been very rewarding and fulfilling, though. It’s definitely what I’d recommend if you need to find a place to start.

As for sleep, throughout 2019, I continued living 25-hour days for the most part. There were a few weeks during which I slowed down the process, but it continued on going. Then, in late December of 2019, motivated by the knowledge that sleep is such a foundational pillar of your health, I figured I really needed to take things seriously, and I managed to go on a three month streak of mostly-stable sleep! (See the data above.)

Part of what helped was willingly stopping to use my desktop computer once it got too late in the day, avoiding Dota at the end of the day as much as possible, and anything exciting for that matter... and, as much as that sounds like the worst possible stereotype, trying to “listen to my body” and recognizing when I was letting stress and anxiety build up inside me, and taking a break or trying to relax.

Also, a pill of melatonin before going to bed; but even though it’s allegedly not a problem to take melatonin, I figured I should try to rely on it as little as possible.

Unfortunately, that “good sleep” streak was abruptly stopped by a flu-like illness... it might have been Covid-19. The symptoms somewhat matched up, but I was lucky: they were very mild. I fully recovered in just over a week. I coughed a bit, but not that much. If it really was that disease, then I got very lucky.

(Pictured: another photo by my lovely SO, somewhere in Auvergne.)

My sleep continued to drift back to its 25-hour rhythm, and I only started resuming these efforts towards the fall... mostly because living during the night felt like a better option with the summer heat (no AC here). I thought about doing that the other way (getting up at 3am instead of going to bed at 7am), and while it’d make more sense temperature-wise, that would have kept me awake when there were practically no people online, and I was trying to have a better social life then, even if had to be purely online due to the coronavirus, so... yeah.

I’ve been working from home since 2012! I also lived alone for a number of years since then. For the most part, it hasn’t been a great thing for my mental health. Having had a taste of what being in an office was like thanks to a couple weeks in the Valve offices, I had the goal of beginning to apply at a few places here and there in March/April. Then the pandemic hit, so those plans are dead in the water. I wanted 2020 to be the year in which I’d finally stop being fully remote, but those plans are now dead in the water.

Now, at the end of the year, I don’t really know if I want to apply at any places. There’s a small handful of studios whose work really resonates with me, creatively speaking, and whose working conditions seem to be alright, at least from what I hear... but, and I swear I’m saying this in the least braggy way possible... there’s very little that beats having been able to work on what I want, when I want, and how much I want.

This kind of freelance status can be pretty terrifying sometimes, but I’ve managed (with some luck, of course) to reach a safe balance, a point at which I’ve effectively got this luxury of being able to only really work on what I want, and never truly overwork myself (at least by the standards of most of the gaming industry). It’s a big privilege and I feel like it’d take a lot to give it up.

Besides the things I mentioned before, one thing I did that drastically improved my mental health was being introduced to a new lovely group of friends by my partner! I started playing Dungeons & Dragons with them, every weekend or so! And in the spirit of a rising tide lifting all boats, I managed to also give back to our lovely DM, by being a sort of “AM” (audio manager)... It’s been great having something to look forward to every week.

Something to look forward to... I’ve heard about the concept of “temporal anchors”. I had heard about how the reason our adult years suddenly pass by in a blur is because we now have more “time” that’s already in our brains, but now I’m more convinced that it’s because we’re going from a very school routine such as the one schools impose upon us, to, well... practically nothing.

I thought most of my years since 2011 have been a blur, but none have whooshed by like 2020 has, and I reckon part of that is because I’ve (obviously) gone out far far less, and most importantly there wasn’t The Big Summer Event That The International Is, the biggest yearly “temporal anchor” at my disposal. The anticipation and release of those energies made summer feel a fair bit longer... and this year, summer was very much a blur for me. In and out like the wind.

I guess besides that, I haven’t really had that much trouble with being locked down. I had years of training for that, after all. Doesn’t feel like I can complain. 😛

(Pictured: trip to Chicago in January of 2019... right when the polar vortex hit!)

Work was good in 2019, and sparser in 2020. Working with Valve again after the 2018 True Sight was a very exciting opportunity. At the time, in February of 2019, I was out with my partner on little holiday trips around my region, and, after night fell, on the way back, we decided to stop in a wide open field, on a tiny countryside path, away from the cities, to try and do some star-gazing, without light pollution getting in the way.

And it’s there and then that I received their message, while looking at the stars with my SO! The timing and location turned that into a very vivid memory...

I then got to spend a couple weeks in their offices in late April / early May. I was able to bring my partner along with me to Washington State, and we did some sightseeing on the weekends.

(Pictured: part of a weekend trip in Washington. This was a dried up lakebed.)

After that, I worked on the Void Spirit trailer in the lead to The International. In August, those couple weeks in Shanghai were intense. Having peeked behind the curtain and seen everything that goes into production really does give me a much deeper appreciation for all the work that goes unseen. 

Then after that, in late 2019, there was my work on the yearly True Sight documentary, for the second time. In 2018, I’d been tasked with making just two animated sequences, and I was very nervous since that was my first time working directly with Valve; my work then was fairly “sober”, for lack of a better term.

(Pictured: view from my hotel room in Shanghai.)

For the 2019 edition, I had double the amount of sequences on my plate, and they were very trusting of me, which was very reassuring. I got to be more technically ambitious, I let my style shine through (you know... if it’s got all these gratuitous light beams, etc.), and it was real fun to work on.

At the premiere in Berlin, I was sitting in the middle of the room (in fact, you could spot me in the pre-show broadcast behind SirActionSlacks; unfortunately I had forgotten to bring textures for my shirt). Being in that spot when my shots started playing, and hearing people laughing and cheering at them... that’s an unforgettable memory. The last time I had experienced something like that was having my first Dota short film played at KeyArena in 2015, the laughter of the crowd echoing all around me... I was shaking in my seat. Just remembering it gets my heart pumping, man. It’s a really unique feeling.

So I’m pretty happy with how that work came out. I came out of it having learned quite a few new tricks too, born out of necessity from my technical ambitions. Stuff I intend to put to use again. I’m really glad that the team I worked with at Valve was so kind and great to work with. After the premiere, I received a few more compliments from them... and I did reply, “careful! You might give me enough confidence to apply!”, to which one of them replied, “you totally should, man.” But I still haven’t because I’m a massive idiot, haha. Well, I still haven’t because I don’t think I’m well-rounded enough yet. And also because, like I alluded to before, I think I’m in a pretty good situation as it is.

It’s not the first encouragements I had received from them, too; there had been a couple people from the Dota team who, at the end of my two week stay in the offices, while I was on my way out, told me I should try applying. But again, I didn’t apply because I’m a massive idiot.

(Pictured: view from the Valve offices.)

To be 200% frank, even though there’s been quite a few people who’ve followed my work throughout the years, comments on Reddit and YouTube, etc. who’ve all said things along the lines of “why aren’t you working for them ?”, well... it’s not something I ever really pursued. I know it’s a lot of people’s dream job, but I never saw it that way. I feel like, if it ever happened to me... sure, that could be cool! But I don’t know if it’s something I really want, or even that I should want?

And if you add “being unsure” to what I consider to be a lack of experience in certain things, well... I really don’t think I’d be a good candidate (yet?), and having seen how busy these people are on the inside, the last thing I want to do is waste their time with a bad application. That would be the most basic form of courtesy I can show to them.

Besides, Covid-19 makes applying to just about any job very hard, if not outright impossible right now. And for a while longer, I suspect.

(Pictured: the Tuilière & Sanadoire rocks.)

I’m still unhappy about the amount of “actual animation” I get to do overall since I like to work on just about every step of the process in my videos, but well. It’s getting better. One thing I am happy with though, is “solving problems”. And new challenges. Seeking the answers to them, and making myself be able to see those problems, alongside entire projects, from a more “holistic” way, that is to say, not missing the forest for the trees.

It’s hard to explain, and even just the use of the term “holistic” sounds like some kind of pompous cop-out... but looking back on how I handled projects 5 years ago vs. now, I see the differences in how I think about problems a lot. And to some extent I do have my time on Valve contracts to thank a LOT in helping me progress there.

Anyway, I’m currently working on a project that I’m very interested & creativefuly fulfilled by. But it has nothing to do with animation nor Dota, for a change! There are definitely at least two other Dota short films I want to make, though. We’ll see how that goes.

Happy new year & take care y’all.

[formulatrash]

It’s so cool you can paint pictures of drivers on a human level!! Who is the coolest female driver you’ve met? And have you ever spent time with the queen that is Susie Wolff?

I know Susie quite well cus she’s a Formula E team boss (and has been for two seasons pretty much, now)

She’s really cool. Clever, sharp, able to ignore the sniping (and it is constant) that any failings in the team’s delivery are because of her gender. Not from other people in Formula E, but the media (not particularly English language media but that’s by no means universal) and the usual armchair commentators from Twitter to YouTube to the third circle of hell that is Facebook group comments of course spout sewage constantly.

Oh, she got the job because of her husband (she didn’t), she isn’t serious about motorsport, she had no proven record as a team boss previously.... I mean, neither did Allan McNish but that curiously doesn’t come up as to why he’s in charge of Audi, despite absolute shitting the bed in Season 4.

(I love Allan but: it would be disingenuous to call the start of S4 anything other than a clown show at Audi, albeit mostly related to finding their feet as a factory outfit - and it was fair not to put that on him; imagine if he’d been Alanis, though...)

Susie has led Venturi to the most success they’ve ever had as a team but still gets called mediocre by geniuses from the comfort of their couches. She wants more, of course - she’s an ambitious and fiercely driven person. She’s also super friendly and funny and I really like her; she has huge amounts of time for people and particularly young people and women starting out in their careers. I’ve done a few bits with her and D2BD and like, you don’t start a thing like that because you don't give a shit, you know?

Here’s something I don’t think I’ve ever published? It’s an interview I did with Susie in Riyadh back at a showcase before the start of Season 5. We were nervous. It was weird.

Diriyah, Riyadh, 2018 There are sometimes moments around interviews where technically your recorder is running but it’s not per se the start of formal questions yet. In a side room of a Riyadh conference centre, sitting down with Venturi Formula E team principal Susie Wolff, I had one of those this week.

It would be fair to describe the Riyadh Eprix as ‘controversial’ - putting a Formula E race in a country known for being the home of oil is one, admirably punk thing. But Saudi Arabia is - or has been - a very closed kingdom, with extremely strict rules and social systems that seem obviously out-of-joint with the western twenty-first century.

Beyond that, I have an international relations degree and used to work for human rights organisations. You can use google to pick out the contexts in which I was previously aware of Saudi Arabia. I am fearless to the point of total disregard for my personal safety but my heart fluttered as I went to Heathrow, as I boarded the plane, as we landed. Everything I knew said I shouldn’t do it.

But you know how it is when someone tells you that, even if it’s you.

I don’t know much about Saudi Arabia and I can’t pretend that 24 hours there has illuminated the country to me more than watching the chasing, blinking lights of Riyadh’s enormous, luminescent sprawl did while I was sitting at my hotel window typing notes.

Launch events are launch events. The fact I was wearing an abaya and hijab (although it’s not obligatory for non-Muslim women my hair is a bit avante-garde to risk it) didn’t really change the fact that they’re just awkward promotional chat, albeit with Arabic-to-English headset.

And then it was straight on to interviewing Saudi princes - who are just politicians, the sports ministry fairly far removed from anything that isn’t, uh, sports. But nonetheless “interviewing Saudi princes” rates quite highly on my *record scratch* *freeze frame* ‘Yep, you’re probably wondering how I got here?’ scale. How the hell did I get here?

Anyway, after that I spoke to Susie Wolff, the new head of Venturi Formula E team. It was a strange, semi-breathless moment; interviewing one of my heroes in motorsport, in the absolute least likely circumstances. A female ex-race driver being interviewed by a female journalist, in a country that women were banned from attending let alone participating in motorsport.

As she sat down, Susie looked me dead in the eye and said “Look, you of all people can’t have a go at me about this.”

I knew exactly what she meant. Should we be there? I don’t know, maybe not. If we weren’t, what dead-behind-the-eyes man would be and where would we be getting new jobs?

I didn’t notice it at the time but when I heard the audio back, we both sound nervous - breathy, almost on the verge of panic. I didn’t become a motorsport journalist to interview Saudi princes or worry about this shit - except maybe I did, really because Formula E has to be an obnoxious upstart, it has to be confrontational even and especially with the scariest potential opponents.

It was before last season, then and so the first thing I had to ask Susie was what she could expect from the season, coming in as Venturi team principle. It’s the most nervous we both sound on the whole recording.

“I absolutely don't underestimate the challenge ahead of me. I've been a great believer, my whole life, that you've got to push yourself out of your comfort zone.

“You've got to do things that do slightly scare you because that's when you develop as a person and when I took on this challenge I absolutely realised the work that lay ahead of me.”

It would be fair to say that, a few years ago when I decided to do this. I did not. I myself cannot claim to have any bold vision in the way I stumbled my way into Formula E and really hoped it was going to come up with something to save my life because I’d run out of my own options.

Susie clearly had a different approach, a full long-game more than a messy explosion of want/need/hope. But sitting there in this weird exhibition centre in a city I’d never been to before, she put it very well.

I had to ask her about the “women’s test” - the option for teams to run a second car at an in-season test in Riyadh, provided it was driven by a woman of sufficiently high driving standard:

“I started Dare To Be Different because everybody talks about the fact that there's not enough diversity in motorsport. But very few people do something about it and I think it's about being proactive - if you want to see change, be part of that change, don't sit and talk about it but actually try and help make it happen.

“And what I appreciate so much since joining Formula E - and I can very much say joining the Formula E family - is that they're very, very supportive, more than any other championship we approached. Because they realise that it's a problem. And it's something that they want to be proactive on.”

Everyone said it was a stunt. And yes, of course it was a stunt. So are rookie tests that get Mick Schumacher into a Ferrari, so is anything where there’s a constraint that conducts the order of the event. So is sport. But it wasn’t a badly-thought-through one and with my brain already trying to stop bending back on itself with the news I actually might quite like??? Saudi Arabia??? I didn’t quite notice how much.

Susie obviously had more detail on it -

“I think the concept that they came up with regarding the test day, within the first race weekend, is really good. I was quite vocal in how the concept should be transported and run properly because for me, rather than just creating an opportunity which creates a lot of attention but actually doesn't have any fundamental credibility or any long-lasting impact is not going to be positive change for the long run.

“So we had quite some discussions at our team principals meeting that actually teams will run a female driver if they find one that they want to run, that's of the right level. There will be no different sessions for different levels, there will be no women just put in the car out of completely out of the depth.

“I lost a very good friend of mine who should never have been in the situation that she was and I think when this happens it has to be done the right way and those inputs were all taken on board and I'm very confident that we have now created an opportunity that is going to a) have an very positive impact and b) show not just the Saudi community but the wider world what's possible. I think you can't underestimate the impact of seeing women on track, that's something visible that women can identify with and that's role models to which they can aspire.

“I will be announcing in November a full-time test driver within my team who is a female, I've taken her because of her abilities not just because she's a female [it was Simona de Silvestro, who tested for Venturi that December and is now part of Porsche] but I absolutely believe in in - and I think, you also because you're one of very few within what you do, you're a fantastic role model and that can inspire so many people - and that's why it's up to us to have a positive impact and have a positive change but it has to be done in a credible way.

“Because I'm not just flying a flag saying 'let's do something for the sake of it,' I very much think we have to do something but in the right way, in a credible way that's going to create long-lasting impact because I'm pretty sure you'd also love to see, in ten years, more young women doing what you do and to be able to turn around and say 'wow, I helped people to understand there was a possibility within this sport.' And the sport does have so many possibilities it's just that what people see is a male dominated world but there's no reason why it has to be. Not just focussing on the on-track activities, I very much believe that we have to look at the whole sport, from your industry in journalism to the engineering, the whole sport just needs to be more accessible to women and they have to come in at grass-roots level and be able to rise to the top of the pack.

“If they're of the right level. And I think that is one of the problems right now, internationally and I think that's where the Women in Motorsport commission was great that they did this assessment because people were able to see it. In one of our first meetings in New York when this idea had just come up many people were saying 'oh where will we get anyone from' and I was like 'well wait a second, in Audi there's Ashley Freiburg, at BMW there's Beitske Visser and obviously Jaguar there's Katherine Legge there are enough available, it's not ok to say you don't have the numbers when there are enough good women right now it's just a case of being open to that change. Certainly, it's one thing that I very much appreciate about Formula E - they're supporting us massively and we've got some exciting news coming out toward the end of October with regards to Dare to be Different and more events around Formula E and that's something that I'm very grateful for the opportunity to work on.”

(I apparently gave up properly writing the article at this point, I guess no one commissioned it - but hey, lil Tumblr exclusive)

[purplesurveys]

1063

survey by pinkchocolate

Have you done any of the same things as me this year? (2020 edition)

Planned a shopping spree with a friend?

Visited a shopping centre/mall? Malls are extremely commonplace here and honestly they already serve as the main tourist attractions if you find yourself in Manila, which is why Manila has never been a popular tourist destination itself (foreign tourists usually head to neighboring provinces, which is smart on their end). I’ve been to malls at least 20-30 times this year, but that’s only because of the pandemic. I probably go close to 50-70 times in a normal year.

Had lunch with a friend? Yeah I caught lunch with Angela a couple times at the start of the year. I had a one-photo-a-day gimmick on Instagram, and I’m pretty sure I have a photo of her in there during one of our lunch dates.

Ordered pizza at a restaurant? Again, at the start of the year. Gab and I loved Italian restaurants so we definitely ordered pizza several times.

Been in a department store? I needed to briefly enter one a couple of weeks ago to look for gift wrappers.

Bought pretty new lingerie?

Had coffee with a friend? Yeah Gab and I had study dates at coffee shops every single week. Now, obviously, I just take myself.

Bought DVDs?

Had a cold?

Bought toiletries as a gift for someone else?

Had dinner in a restaurant with your family? Yeah I’m fairly certain we did this at least a couple of times between January and early March. The last time I dined in anywhere was a month ago, but I was only with my parents and my siblings didn’t come along.

Had one of your kitchen appliances break? Our plumbing is a little fucked in general and sometimes we’ll have minor leaks on the floor. My dad’s knives have also gotten a bit dull, so I got him a new knife set for Christmas. But no damage to appliances.

Watched a movie at the cinema?

Struggled for food when the panic buying began? We struggled in that it was a bitch to enter the groceries at first. My dad did the grocieries for us during that time and that was back when they strictly enforced the number of people allowed in the supermarket at one time; and no matter how early he queued, there was always already a line that got there before him. He’d wait around three hours and once he was finally let in, a bunch of alleys or sections in the grocery would already be empty or at least close to becoming empty. We never went hungry or had to skip meals or anything like that, but I do remember having to make do with lesser-known brands we never used before because sometimes those would be the only options left at the grocery.

Wanted to hug a friend, but didn't because you had to social distance? I hugged Angela when I saw her a couple of days ago, and I also hugged Gab when we were still together. 

Felt afraid of Covid? My fears over it have tamed over the year, to be honest; but I’m still wary, of course. I hate it when people stand near me and I follow the safety protocols everywhere I go.

Felt afraid to leave the house? Only during the peak of the virus, from March to around May or June. Nowadays I kinda have to go out every now and then for the sake of my sanity.

Deliberately avoided watching the news because it made you feel upset? I mean I took up journ lol so I always watch the news, no matter how upsetting it can get. The one and only time I remember asking my sister to switch the channel was when there was a report on animal abuse.

Had to cancel plans for your birthday? I didn’t have plans for it in the first place, or at least I didn’t have the chance to make them yet, so I’m glad there was nothing to cancel.

Spent your birthday at home? This was the only choice I had. My birthday fell on the most serious and strictest phase of the quarantine, and this was back when nothing was open yet.

Collected a parcel from your doorstep? Online shopping is a norm for me now, lol. I used to not trust it, but now I probably buy at least one item a week.

Eaten an entire box of chocolates in one day? I don’t even like chocolate that much. That sounds so uncomfortably sweet.

Drank fruit flavoured cider?

Eaten birthday cake? Sure, we had cake for my mom’s, my aunt’s, and my cousin’s/godson’s birthdays.

Had a grandparent move into long-term care? My remaining grandparents are all fortunately still very healthy.

Kept a journal of your thoughts and feelings during lockdown? This is technically it, whether’s there’s a lockdown or not. I tried starting a journal after my breakup, but I couldn’t keep it up because my wrist strains easily from handwriting now, hahaha. I find that doing surveys suffice.

Had distressing dreams/nightmares related to the pandemic? No, but about other pressing events in my life.

Felt concerned about your financial situation? Not mine but my family’s.

Returned to a social platform that you took a break from? I left Facebook for a few months after the breakup. I’m back on it again because I had missed the memes, but I also want to permanently delete that account for good, open a new one, and just add the people I want to keep having in my circle. Like I love Gabie’s family to death but I don’t see the point in being Facebook friends with them still, and it actually feels kinda awkward now still seeing them on my list. Idk. We’ll see. I might keep my account or start a new one altogether.

Missed a past hobby or interest? I mean I missed going to malls and bars and going out with my friends, if that counts as an interest. I had to do much less of that this year.

Started a new hobby? I started doing embroidery about a month ago, and a few days ago I started working out. My body is as sore as all fuck, but at least it makes me feel good about myself. For the new year, I also plan on starting a skincare routine after 22 years of not doing anything with my face lol and maybeeee start experimenting with coffee and buy different kinds of beans just because?? Idk, I have a lot of cute hobbies planned out for next year haha I’m excited to see how it goes.

Joined some new Facebook groups? Both for work and personal purposes, yep.

Made some new friends online? I definitely like that I’ve become closer and more familiar with the survey community here. I feel like I barely interacted with anyone pre-Covid, when real life was still a bit more hectic and when it was more difficult to find time to relax and sit down and read everyone’s answers. I also became friends with Justine, Angel, and Bianca when I started as an intern at my workplace.

Felt annoyed because you saw someone without a mask? Everyone wears a mask in public, and there are always people assigned to monitor and lightly scold those stubborn enough to take their masks off. So this isn’t the case, but what I do find annoying is when people stand or walk too close to you. Just last week at the grocery this lady was close enough to be breathing down my neck when I was lining up at the cashier; being non-confrontational for the most part, it felt like being in the deepest pit of hell.

Felt like people were staring at you when you wore a mask? I feel like people are more likely to stare at people who DON’T have a mask. 

Bought new stationery? My sister has tons of stationery in her room for whatever reason; when I need one to write short notes or letters, I just ask for some from her. 

Video-called your extended family and friends? For sure. We did this a lot especially during the earlier parts of the year.

Written a letter to someone you missed?

Disagreed with the behaviour of a friend?

Felt surprised when someone wanted to be your friend? No one directly said it to me; but as an intern on my first day of the job, it was a really pleasant surprise to find that the co-interns I was going to be with weren’t boring, unemotional cogs who just aimed to do work. They were HILARIOUS from the get-go, was confused as fuck about work, and I could see they just wanted to make our tiny intern family a close-knit and happy group, to which I gladly agreed and went along with.

Bought a new pair of shoes? I got new shoes meant for my first job interview, but I haven’t gotten any brand new sneakers in a while :(

Replaced some toiletries that you ran out of during lockdown? I guess? Toiletries are necessities, so.

Bought some new books? I read new ones, but I didn’t buy them. Some I saw copies of on the internet; one was given as a gift to me.

Bought new cosmetics? I don’t use those.

Received a belated birthday present?

Received a present from a friend overseas?

Discovered a new author that you liked?

Felt like you were drifting away from people you were once close to? *A person. Yeah, well.

Found out that someone you knew had contracted Covid?  She’s a mutual friend from my high school days. We aren’t close but we’ve kept in touch by still following each other on social media. She wrote about her experience with Covid on a blog entry.

Realised you had formed a deep connection with someone? I got a lot closer with Andi both because we had to work together for our thesis and because they were there for me, unconditionally and untiringly, when I was coping with my breakup and was in rough shape.

Worried about the financial situation of someone close to you? Of my family, like I said, yes. We had to sell the Vitara because the money that pours into the household monthly isn’t enough to keep paying for it. To be fair, that car was a very big impulse buy by my dad, so we didn’t and don’t feel too bad about losing it hahaha. 

Let your guard down to someone? I don’t think so. I was on red alert this year since Gab increasingly broke my trust.

Had an issue with something on social media? Yeah, but I don’t want to get into it. That was such a long time ago and is so irrelevant now.

Felt disconnected from others? I deliberately did so three months ago, so much so that I had acquaintances I barely talked to since graduating talk to Andi and ask where I’ve been.

Changed your internet provider? We’ve had the same one for like 8-9 years now. It works pretty okay for five people who stream videos all day, so we haven’t felt the need to switch.

Felt fortunate/thankful? I mean I’m here, scar-less, and happy with myself on December 31, 2020, right?

Tried some new foods that you enjoyed? Baked sushi is so fucking good.

Re-read a book that you loved? Crazy Is My Superpower by AJ Mendez (aka my favorite girl wrestler, AJ Lee) is always a good read to come back to.

[kariachi]

Some more Levinstar. Fight me.

~~

Mike’s life was going fairly well, if he did say so himself. He was wrenching a successful acting career essentially out of the aether with naught but skill, good looks, and his own riches. One of his best friends was a member of the Elite Four. The other was a big name in tech circles around the globe. Young mutants everywhere looked at him as an idol. His pokemon were healthy and vibrant enough to feature in magazines across the region. Yes, he and Elena’s elementary school ‘if neither of us are married by thirty’ agreement was looking more and more likely to be followed through on, but really in the end life was good. Very good.

Which is why he was kicking himself about his inability to just cross a fucking room and-

“Mike, if you don’t go talk to him I will.”

“Fuck off, I saw him first.”

Galas were essentially Mike’s lifeblood. He could schmooze and socialize with the best of them, a master of social maneuvering before he’d even started his pokemon journey. But tonight he’d found himself hopelessly distracted, enough so that Elena had been forced to rescue him before he made of fool of himself in front of somebody important. So there they were, stood at the edge of the room with glasses of champagne Mike’s service Delcatty was very cross at him about. But what could you do, when nobody ever planned for non-drinkers at these things and you were stuck staring at a very handsome man from the other side of the crowd.

“I can’t believe you’re too nervous to go talk to somebody. You flirt like attention is air!”

“I am not nervous, I just… am waiting for the right moment.”

Kevin fucking Levin was at this event. Mike had three of his books at home. Two of his sculptures. He was, at that moment, wearing a Xerneas brooch on his scarf that had been designed and handmade by the very bastard. What did you say in that circumstance? He couldn’t pretend to be unfamiliar with the man’s work, he was wearing it and the people who came to events like this knew everything about what they wore, but he didn’t want to risk coming across as some obsessed fan, no matter what the evidence might say. Normally if he met someone he was a fan of at these events it was other people in film and media, and he could use work as an icebreaker. If they were trainers he could turn to Elena for an introduction, which made things easier. It was only a good impression he wanted to make, there wasn’t really any pressure, but here, with Kevin…

He’d seen the man and his insides had done things that hadn’t since he was a teenager.

Across the room, the artist broke away from the little group he’d been talking with a smile, beelining for an empty spot near a far wall.

“Now’s your chance, he’s alone and unprotected!” As subtly as she could- they were at a formal event- Elena began shoving Mike in his direction.

“Hey!”

“I don’t want to have to marry your flat ass, move!”

Sending a glare over his shoulder at her, Mike did as instructed, weaving around the crowd toward what was, if he was quite honest, the most handsome man he hadn’t met yet. There was only a brief pause in his forward momentum, a stop by a decorative mirror to fix his hair and clothes, check his makeup. Perfection was required for these events, yes, but something like this called for an entirely new level of it. He didn’t just want to make a good impression, he wanted to dazzle. To that effect he also took the time to check Elissa for any out of place fur or loose threads in her vest.

Perfection.

Kevin was stood with his back to the crowd, fingers buried in his service Espeon’s fur as he inspected one of the sculptures on display. It wasn’t fair, no man should’ve had arms like that. Or a jawline like that. Or cheekbones like that. If Mike hadn’t been so into it he’d have had to kill him for daring to look so good. As it was it was surprisingly difficult not to reach right out and touch him. With an easing breath Mike slipped casually into place behind him, pulling out his most charming smile.

“What do you think, was it worth what they paid for it?” There was no sign of surprise when Kevin turned- people with Espeon were rarely surprised by anything- and holy shit his eyes were even browner in person. How was that allowed? At least there was a bit of a victory to be gained as Mike’s heart lodged itself in his throat, the other man going pink as soon as he saw him.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “but then abstract has never been my style.” He glanced back at Mike, going a shade darker, and the blond silently cheered what he was going to call a success. “Nice brooch.” Fuck.

“Thank you,” he said as if he wasn’t worried about coming off too big a fan, “was made by a very talented artist.” Kevin shrugged.

“Couldn’t get quite the colors I wanted,” he said.

“It’s perfect,” Mike replied almost before the other’s sentence was done. Kevin took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders as the color began fading from his face, then turned to face him completely with a smile that could’ve melted butter.

“So, Mike Morningstar.” He knew his name. This wasn’t surprising- he was a famous actor for fucks’ sake- but it still set his heart jumping.

“Kevin Levin.” And the man went pink again, at least this time he stayed looking at him.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve been watching your movies since I was yea big.” He put his hand as a spot just below his waist. Mike chuckled.

“Give I’ve been making them since I was that size, it’s quite a compliment.” Kevin shrugged again, still with that damn smile.

“You’re good, and most of your films are up my alley. Especially since you stopped being the bad guy.” That had been part of what had him using his own riches- if he was the one funding the movies then nobody could try to shoehorn him in as a villain, or brush off his auditions with excuses that barely hid the actual ‘there’s no place for chompers like yours in this’ reasons. Besides, it meant he could get more mutants involved, as much out of spite as anything.

“I try.” He considered and discarded several directions to take this conversation. “I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these events before?” He knew he hadn’t, he’d have noticed, but if he said that it might come off creepy.

“Everyone kept telling me to come to one of these and network,” Kevin groaned, throwing an exaggeratedly put-upon look Mike’s way. “It’s not really my thing. I like my workday chill and my parties loud, ya know?” Mike didn’t know. He could make any social gathering work, but this was his native habitat, and work for him was hustle and bustle and at least one case per film of someone threatening to quit over something inane. (The last one had involved one of his costars sneezing on a camera and the man behind it, already stressed by a long day, late dinner, and impending wedding, throwing up his arms and swearing he was abandoning the industry entirely. He’d come back, but Mike had still made sure he had the week until the wedding off alongside the time he was already taking for his honeymoon.)

He didn’t necessarily understand it, but he knew the area, as well as an opening when he saw one.

“Well,” he said, inching just a bit closer and internally preening when Kevin looked him over instead of moving away, “if you’d rather, I know a few bars around here where we wouldn’t get too many strange looks for showing up in formalwear.” The smile that crept onto Kevin’s face was sharper this time, more purposeful. This time he was the one in motion, scooting just close enough for his hand to brush against Mike’s.

“Do you now,” he replied. “Ya know I haven’t really gotten to explore around here before, I would love to get the tour.”

Yessss.

“Well then-” Mike put out his arm, actively preening when Kevin took it with an appreciative look and a flash of teeth. “-let’s get you someplace less stuffy, hm?” It wasn’t too early to go, nobody would even miss them. Well, the paparazzi might, but he got gossiped about constantly anyway, and Kevin was very attractive with those coffee dark eyes, so… Fuck it.

“Lead the way, Mr. Morningstar.”

It didn’t take them long to reach the exit, especially as they skirted the crowd, evading the people already too drunk to respect their pokemon were working and saying goodbye to enough people that there wouldn’t be excess talk. Given the way Kevin bristled when people approached his Espeon, Mike was glad he was getting him out then, before he could make a scene and cause himself trouble. He lead him quickly past those sorts, throwing a wink at a grinning Elena before he slipped them out the back doors.

If he played his cards right, his life was about to get a whole notch better.

[wanderingtrash]

Unfair Affair- Part 10

A/N: Not much of Ben on this chapter as a change of plans made it’s way, But Happy 2018!

Feedback is always appericiated (:

* *

It had been a day since (Y/N)’s whole ordeal with Harry. They hadn’t done much taking since then. A few messages here and there to ask how she was feeling.

But nothing more.

The media has calmed down with their claims as there was no direct evidence that Harry had an affair. And no one had gotten their hands on a picture of (Y/N). All they really knew about her was her name. Which wasn’t really a big deal.

Her relationship with Ben never seemed so smooth. He had offered to take the day off to go to her first ultrasound; where she was headed to. But (Y/N) had refused. Part of the reason was because she knew Harry wouldn’t appreciate another man going to see the baby fetus first than on the screen. But also because she felt Ben needed a bit of time away from her. He had been so much help and so supportive that she felt guilty of not letting him have some time with his friends or to himself.

She had told Harry about her appointment thinking that maybe he wanted to come with her. Subconsciously she hoped he would. But of course he said it wouldn’t be the best idea to be seen with her. Especially with all the rumors. She understood and replies with simple ‘okay’.

Walking in the warm building (Y/N) fixed her bag in her shoulder and huffed. Her cheeks were red, as it was cold outside and she rushed out the door forgetting to put on a thicker coat.

She greeted the elderly lady behind the counter who was sipping on a coffee from Starbucks.

Walking into the elevator she pressed the 3rd floor button. To where her OB/GYN was at.

Once she walked through the door after getting out of the elevator her heart stopped at the sight.

She was thinking about what she could make for dinner but that that was put to an end.

There sat Harry.

With Gwen.

(Y/N) felt her cheeks heat up and her head felt light. The room was big, sure. But there was still a way Harry could see her. He was looking at a magazine with Gwen. A baby magazine. The ones with tips on how to maintain the perfect shape after pregnancy. The ones that promise tips to keep your baby eating good, with a list of pricey recipes.

(Y/N) swiftly walked to th front desk to sign in. She knew that as soon as she started talking Harry would recognize her voice. So she prepared for the worst.

“Name please?” The young receptionist asked her with a forced smile. Her brunette hair was up in a messy bun. She looked tired. Possibly not wanting to be there (Y/N) guessed.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” She responded with the quitest voice she could. The receptionist typed on her lap top in front of her. (Y/N) had time to look behind her shoulder to see Gwen standing up. Her bump more prominent than hers. She whispered some words to Harry that (Y/N) couldn’t quite here. To which Harry nodded. His hand going up to rub her bump.

A loving gesture in which (Y/N) felt a heaviness on her chest from witnessing.

“Ms. (Y/LN)?.” The receptionist asked her. Ending her train of thought. “Dr. Florez is currently getting ready for a patient. So if you please have a seat and he will call you when he’s done.”

(Y/N) nodded and offered a smile. “No problem. Thank you.” She said and let out a shaky sigh. She decided it was best to sit in the back for the risk of not getting seen by Harry.

She had set her eyes on the she could. That was until she felt a hand grip her arm.

Turning around she saw the man she dreaded getting caught by.

“(Y/N)?” Harry asked in his perfect voice. That as much as (Y/N) hated to admit it was music to her ears.

“What Harry?” She said with a sigh.

“What are you doing here by yourself?” He whispered to her. There weren’t many people around. And the people that were, were occupied in their phones or with the out dated magazines provided on the coffee tables.

“I didn’t have much of a choice did I? I don’t have a boyfriend that is obligated to come with me to these things.” (Y/N) hissed pulling her arm back.

Harry was taken aback. What she said was true. But the way she said it hurt him.

“You know I would if I could. Don’t say such nonsense.” Harry softly told her. He didn’t want to be an asshole. He had done enough of that in the nearly 8 months they were seeing eachother.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and took a seat on the uncomfortable looking chair. Her back was killing her from the position she had slept in the night before.

“The rumors caught up to wifey’s ears yet?” (Y/N) asked picking at the nail polish nude colored nail polish on her nails.

“She’s read the articles. Thinks it’s just another rumor that will eventually die down once people see It’s not true.” Harry responded. Playing with his bottom lip with his fingers. Something (Y/N) had learned he had a habit of doing when he was nervous.

(Y/N) let out a dry laugh. “She’s in for a rude awakening when you tell her.”

Harry stayed quiet for a short minute.

“About that…” Harry started. “About what I told you yesterday.”

(Y/N) looked up from her nails. A confused look on her face at what he was about to tell her.

“About what?”

“ I meant it. I want you to be happy. Even though I hope to God that along the line it’s me that you chose. I hope you’re happy with…Ben.” He said sincerely. “You deserve happiness and I’m selfish I know, but with you I can’t help it.”

But (Y/N) wasn’t going to fall for his usual charm. No matter how sincere he was being.

“You can’t tell me that you hope to be with me someday yet you still have another woman; your wife warming your bed and getting to touch you and kiss you. It’s not fair to her. Or me for that matter. You are a walking contradiction.”

“You don’t understand (Y/N) I’m doing this for my kid. I need time to tell her all of this. About this relationship we shared. She’s pregnant. Too much stress isn’t good for her.” Harry scolded. He didn’t mean to. But she wasn’t getting it.

“Oh yeah? Well have you forgot that I’m pregnant too? Have you forgot that the same way she doesn’t need stress I don’t either? No. Of course you don’t Harry. Because the child of the wife will always come first. The other woman’s child will come second. But I’ll be damned if you think that’s the way things are going to be.” (Y/N) retaliated. She was hurt. The only way she knew how to deal with the emotions was with anger.

“I never said our child was going to come second. Don’t put words in my mouth (Y/N).” Harry clenched his jaw. “Send me a text when you’re out of the appointment. Because I do care about our child. Despite what you want to believe.” With a roll of (Y/N)’s eyes and a shake from Harry’s head. Harry walked back to his and Gwen’s seat. Looking over his shoulder to see (Y/N) pull out her phone.

She was something else.

* *

Gwen laid on the clinic bed. A smile on her face a she looked at Harry with the purest admiration. Dr. Florenz had her shirt lifted up. A screen on the side where it was visible to both her and Harry. And the cold gel on her tummy as the wand moved on her skin. Harry having a tight grip on her hand.

“And there is your baby.” Dr. Florenz said pointing to a black dot on the screen. “You’re roughly 2 months pregnant Mrs. Styles. It’s about one inch big from what I can see.”

Gwen smiled at Harry. “Look it my love.” She said in happiness.

Harry kissed her head and smiled. “Already so strong huh?”

“At this point in your pregnancy I advise little exercise. As this is your first child and you body is not used to the changes it is enduring. Miscarriage is a risk if you don’t take care of yourself.” Dr. Florenz said with a serious tone.

Gwen nodded her head. Her blonde hair coming in the way of her eyes but she pusjed her locks back. “No, I understand. I’ve been taking some vitamin shakes to help with things like heart burn and growth of the embryo.” Gwen added.

Harry nodded along with her. “She’s been very much watching what she eats.”

Dr. Florenz nodded. “Lots of water and rest goes a long way.” Typing on his lap top he turned to both of them once again.

“Would you like pictures?” He asked already knowing the answer.

Gwen giggled and nodded as Dr. Florenz handed her a paper towel to wipe the gel off of ger stomach. “If we could have 3 copies, that would be wonderful. One for each of our mom’s and on for us.” She said as Harry helped her up.

“Of course. Nurse Tabitha will bring them out to you while you are setting up the next appointment. I would like to see you next month to check the growth rate of the baby.” He said standing up and collecting his things. “See you next month.” He said excusing himself.

Gwen held her bag as she took out a piece of gum popping it in her mouth, standing up on the floor from the hand sanitizer smelling bed. “I’m craving some tacos.” Gwen told Harry scrunching her nose as Harry opened the door for her. “Think we can get some on the way home?”

“Of course, whatever little bean is craving.” Harry laughed putting his arm around Gwen’s slim waist.

Harry’s eyes widened as he saw (Y/N) walking down the hallway in the opposite direction. Her head down and her bag slung around her shoulder. A frown evident in her perfect features. His heart heart at the sight. Removing his arm from Gwen’s waist out of guilt. Gwen didn’t take notice in his sudden change in mood.

She glanced at (Y/N) as the pasted her. Then whispered to Harry something that angered him internally.

“Poor woman. You think the dad of the baby is like a dead beat or something? Maybe not even involved at all? She looked sad.”

Harry clenched his fists. Mostly because of her comment about (Y/N). Not because of the comment made about the father. Which unknown to her was him. “I don’t think that’s any of our business love. I doubt it, but it doesn’t concern us.” He said as the walked to the receptionists office.

A frown now on his face.

* *

(Y/N) tried not to let the sight of Harry showing Gwen affection get to her. She really didn’t. But something about her mood that day prevented her from feeling it.

It hurt to see him like that with her. As selfish as it sounded. Especially after he confessed to her that he was no longer in love with Gwen.

As she laid on the clinic bed. In the same position Gwen was in. Minus the supporting father holding her hand of course. She felt tears prickle her eyes as Dr. Florenz pointed to the screen. Offering her a small smile. Something he rarley did to his patients. Mostly because he thought (Y/N) was a single mother. With the father of the kid no longer in it’s just starting life.

“It’s so small.” (Y/N) chuckled through tears. Her baby was in the screen. Barley the size of a pea.

“Indeed, but trust me Ms. (Y/L/N) it’ll get bigger.” He chuckled too.

He removed the cold wand from her belly and handed her a paper towel. To which (Y/N) responded with a whispered “Thank you.”

“Growing very healthy. Expect a bump to appear any time soon now.” He told her nodding. “Try and stay off spicy foods or heavily spiced foods as they cause heart burn. It’s not dangerous to the baby, but it will be wildy uncomfortable for you.” He said typing in his lap top. “I assume you wamt pictures yes?” The elderly man asked (Y/N). Fixing his glasses.

“Yes, 2 copies please.” (Y/N) said with a smile. She wanted to give one to her parents. Not much Harry because she knew he wouldn’t want to keep one with him. Risking Gwen finding it and questioning him. She would just send him a picture.

Getting up and throwing the paper towel on the trash. Her back aching. A small whimper leaving her lips.

Dr. Florenz got up as well. “I’ll see you in a month Ms. (Y/N), take care.” He added with a nod. “A nurse will bring your pictures out in the waiting room.” He said shaking her hand and exiting the room.

(Y/N) sighed with a smile. Pressing a hand as she gathered her things. Grabbing her phone as a notification alerted her of a new message. Ben’s name appearing on her home screen.

Pressing on the contact she was taken to the numerous number of text messages exchanged between them. Her face showed pure confusion as she read the newest one.

I need to tell you something. It’s about Harry

I don’t want to tell you over text so I’ll see you at your place later tonight?

I’ll bring some take out

(Y/N) was left with an strange feeling of anguish in the pit of her stomach in the cleaning product smelling room.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

so, a dude i used to go to high school with messaged me out of the blue the other day 

and me being me (world’s dumbest bitch award recipient 1990-present) i’m willing to give this the benefit of a doubt 

i mean...me also being the tired bitch i am just flat out asked him why he messaged me (i wasn’t mean about it, but after the chit-chat catch up stuff it’s like...what do you want from me?) 

and basically i guess he’s just in a place where he doesn’t really have a lot of friends in town and he doesn’t really talk to anyone from high school anymore, so he’s reconnecting with some folks and he remembers me being pretty cool, plus a good person to talk to and i guess he’s been having a rough time lately so basically it’s just “hey, wanna get coffee sometime and catch up/talk?” that kind of thing 

which again like...alright 

it wouldn’t kill me to make new friends or i guess in this case reconnect with an old friend even though we were never really that close in high school, but fine 

i’m still...suspicious because i dunno 

it’s weird because when i go out into public and just...exist, guys don’t bother me 

i don’t get flirted with, i don’t get harassed, nobody tries to get my number or anything like that, which y’know...is pretty nice although internalized misogyny has me thinking “damn, i’m really that ugly, huh???” but regardless like...that’s my jam, right? 

any of the attention i ever get is either from dudes online who don’t actually know what i look like or dudes who once had crushes on one of (of multiple of) my friends and after being rejected or realizing it wouldn’t work out they finally notice me and are like, “oh yeah, i guess that’s a girl. yeah, sure why not?” 

which...i dunno if this is a sign of what little confidence i do have or if it’s because i hate myself so much that either way i’m just like -___- about the whole thing because it’s not...genuine, y’know? 

just for once in my fucking life i’d like someone to take an interest in me not as an afterthought or because they’ve exhausted all other options or because they’re lonely but just...because it’s me, y’know? 

call me fucking nuts, but i feel like that’s...part of it? feel like that’s a pretty normal thing to want, idk

i’ve certainly liked plenty of people for who they are and their whole deal in general, not because of like...convenience 

and that’s already something i struggle with anyway because in the past i’ve had friendships that i don’t want to entirely discredit because i still feel like somewhere deep down there was...something there, but that nevertheless got to a place where it was just like...this person only keeps me around because i buy them things and/or am willing to drop everything to listen to/try to help them with their problems, but when it’s my turn it’s like...golly anna, i don’t know what to say. 

which, to be fair, for my kind of problems i really do just need to see a fuckin’ therapist about because i can’t expect my friends to like...deal with trauma i haven’t even dealt with in almost 10 years or have anyone waste their time trying to rationalize my irrational thinking when we both know no matter what’s said or done...i’m still gonna be super mentally ill about it so like...there’s that 

but especially when it’s anything to do even slightly pertaining to relationships or just...anything it really sucks to feel like the only time anyone wants anything from me in that department is as a last resort

because at least for the shitty friendships i’ve had, i’ve also had good friendships where try as my mind might, i don’t think i’m that person who’s only there because like...might as well, y’know? 

but with relationships and shit like that...no, i don’t have that reassurance 

and again, you can say “oh but anna, you just don’t see the full picture!” but honestly, H O N E S T L Y i don’t think anyone’s ever taken a genuine interest in me because if they have, it’s fuckin’ news to me, it’s never been brought to my attention and that’s not even me being oblivious like...it’s just not there 

at best, i’ve had some promising conversations on places like okcupid but shit tends to fizzle out pretty quickly and it never amounts to anything 

and again, i guess i’ll...give myself some credit here because i could definitely see how all things combined a dude just messaging me and maaaaaaybe being interested would theoretically be enough for me to be like “holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!!!!” but i’m mostly just...tired. 

i dunno

it may turn out dude just genuinely wants a friend and he’s casting out a net to people he thinks are cool and just trying to reconnect with people. i get that. 

i obviously love my online friends and i love my real life friends, but i don’t get to see my online friends that much and even my real life friends all live like ~2 hours away from me, so it’s not like i can just get off work and go meet up to hang out just whenever and for the most part, that’s fine, i’m not someone who constantly needs to be going out all the time, but there’s a part of me that’s like...yeah, it’d be nice if i had people closer to home i could just go get some coffee with or maybe grab dinner with sometime 

and if that’s the case like...hey, no worries 

but if it’s anything more than that i’m already dreading having to shut that shit down because i may not think i’m worth anything, but that doesn’t mean i need to like...exacerbate my problems by letting some dude use me 

and i hate to even think that because this dude may have the purest of intentions and, more likely than not, just sees me as a bro and would be thrown off if he knew i was even suspicious but...shit is what it is 

it wouldn’t be the first time a dude i went to high school with took interest in me seemingly out of the blue, but only come to find out it’s because they exhausted all their other options (usually my friends, so that was cool) and figured, “meh, this’ll do” or that one time i “””””dated”””” someone for a week and it turns out he was engaged the whole time??? yeah, that was cool. suuuuuuuper cool 

i mean...i’m not AT ALL fucked in the head about my self esteem and feeling like in spite of me wanting a relationship super badly that it’s never going to fucking happen for me because i’m either too ugly or too mentally ill or too boring or just...whatever for that to be possible, but on top of that let’s pile dudes who only ever perk up to me when they’re at their lowest and figure drinking gasoline when you’re dying of thirst is better than nothing 

it’s FINE 

i’m FINE 

do i need to go to therapy? uh-yeah, abso-fucking-lutely 

and i’m trying to take baby steps, i really am, i’ve been looking at local therapists and shit like that but at the same time i uh...i’m gonna have to...unpack a lot of shit i put in a box about ten years ago and just...never really dealt with 

and there’s a part of me that’s like...well, i made it ten years without opening that box, surely i can make it another ten. and then another. and then another etc. (not that i want to live that long anyway, but i also didn’t think i’d make it this far so surprise, 8 year old me who wanted nothing more than to just fuckin’ die. we’re still here, on this bitch of an earth in this fuck of an existence and we’re still...doin’ it) 

but i also know that it’s entirely possible one day all of that shit’s just gonna...breach the surface and i’ll likely have a complete and utter meltdown so that’s...not great 

also just in general, i have...a lot of shit i need to work on about myself, about how i feel about myself, etc. but boy oh boy is that a rough motivation to stir up when the conversation between you and you is basically: 

me: um, hey we should probably like...try to do something about all this? you’re almost 30, don’t you think you should...try to get better? try to be a better you? get a handle on your shit, maybe?

me: absolutely not, i fucking suck, i’ve always sucked, and if you think there’s something underneath all of this that doesn’t suck, my friend, have i got news for you. it’s all suck. all the way down. you know how you’re working on a project or whatever’s a good metaphor here, and you make a mistake, but you try to fix it or just keep going but shit just gets worse and worse and worse and eventually it’s not fixable anymore and from no way, shape, or angle could the finished product be considered good and you’d just do better to throw the whole fuckin’ thing out and start from scratch? 

me: i mean yeah, i guess 

me: okay, well that’s you, my friend

me: oh worm? 

me: worm 

so...y’know, it’s rough 

i’m not saying i won’t, i know this shit is tough no matter what and my situation is in no way unique it’s just...taking me some time to get to that point where i even feel like i deserve it or that i’d be willing to do it 

REGARDLESS i’m willing to give this entire situation a chance 

he said something about maybe meeting up saturday to get some coffee or something, so we’ll see if that ends up happening and how that goes and maybe once i actually talk to him face to face i can get a better read on the entire situation 

i just...at this point, i really just hope he wants to be friends 

i know a young, less jaded me would probably be freaking out because a guy i thought was cute in high school wants to hang out with me, oh boy!!! but present me is a little too cynical and definitely just...tired of feeling like i’m only ever a last resort of last possible option 

i guess i’ll...have an update by this weekend, maybe? 

although if dude says or does anything that makes it obvious he’s interested in something more i’ll probably just shut that shit down before it goes anywhere because i don’t really know him that well, but based off his social media it seems like he got out of a relationship not too long ago and it’s not to say you can’t be interested in someone else soon after, but i’m not...the person you want to talk to if you want a rebound, my guy 

i’m nearly a 30 year old virgin, i’ve got...literally nothing to offer you except for disappointment 

this kind of thing just...exhausts me because i feel like i can already see ten miles away how this ends and i’m just...so, so, so fucking tired of feeling like this. i’m so tired of only ever being seen as like...possible rebound option or vulnerable lonely girl ripe for plucking or, my favorite, the girl nobody pays attention to until they’re done fawning over my friends 

i’d honest to god just rather go the rest of my life being completely ignored and never bothered than to deal with that again and again and again 

but i’ll try not to get too ahead of myself and not be so pessimistic 

try being the key word here 

[jerinakterunit13]

Evaluation.

Studio Culture was a branding group project. We had to form a design studio, creating a brand identity and build a personality around us, and our outcomes were brand guideline, studio ethos website and Instagram. Our groups were the same as the Graphic Notation one, only this time we had an extra partner, Emma. We approached the brief by sharing our ideas first. What type of studio we wanted to be part of, and what do we look into a studio. It didn't have to be a possible studio but could be something futuristic. Keeping that in mind, we girls went wild with our ideas, thinking the best things we thought should be there. My idea was a combination of different design fields working under the same studio, which I took inspiration from the Biennale Of Architecture in Venice. Besides this, we would have our studio open for anyone across the world so, we have a diverse community, which could be in an online platform, which will allow people to work with us. Hafsa's idea was to have a studio in nature like a greenhouse and work for ethical clients. Emma wanted her studio to have interns working for charities, and junior and senior designers would train the interns and do the paid projects. In the beginning, we didn't get ideas from the boys, as the communication wasn't working in the group. We girls ended up having tones of ideas, so much that we led the group. Rahem sometimes would help, but from Abid, we barely would get hold of him, and as only they had the programs that didn't help the group at all. Time management was a big issue in our group, followed by communication. In the first week, we couldn't decide on a name for our studio, there were too many ideas, and as we couldn't decide on a concept for the studio, that didn't help. We had different group calls outside the lesson time, which kind of helped us stay on track. Besides the outcomes the brief asked to hand in at the end of the project, I wanted to bring something extra to the project, like designing the studio. I want to link my passion and the subject I want to pursue at university with my current projects, so this was the best idea. After sharing my idea, which the others accepted, I started looking into the existing architecture and combine it with my ideas to produce some sketches. We decided we wanted our studio to be fun, futuristic and eco-friendly and have our studio on an island. Keeping these points in mind, I designed a few different styles of studios. Not having the programs at home made my task difficult, so I mainly concentrated on sketches. When I had the opportunity to use Illustrator, using my drawings, I was able to digitalize everything. Our group work wasn't going that great, as did our ideas. Each group had to re-design an interview in A0 posters, so we decided to divide the essay, and each of us would have to do a part of it. In the beginning, everything was going well. We knew what each other was doing and where we were taking inspiration for our posters. We had a week time to complete the work, so I did my best and finished beforehand. However, that wasn't the same for the rest. As always, we came on the day of the presentation, not knowing how was Abid's work going on. We couldn't get hold of him the whole week, and we came to know that same morning, he had some issues which he didn't share with us. We didn't have to present at the end, so even though he finished after the lesson had started, it wasn't professional and neither fair for the rest of the group who finished in time and had to wait. Besides this, we didn't have a logo until the third week. Each of us did loads of sketches for the logo of our studio, but none felt right. The teachers suggested we should go for a typography-based logo, which we decided to give a try. Hafsa worked on it and created the perfect logo, which we all liked and agreed, represented our studio. Even though at the beginning of the project, we decided the tasks each of us would have done, we had issues following it. This last week we had a presentation before the hand-in. We had to share what we had with the class and get the last minute feedback before the final presentation. By that time, we were behind with our works. I already had done two studio design in digital and had one left. We had our logo and three of the studio rules designed. However, we still didn't have a studio guideline, a website and an Instagram page. We again didn't have any contact from Abid, which meant Rahem had to work alone on the studio guideline, and Hafsa tried to work on the website but had issues. Our first presentation went well, despite the problems we had. We couldn't share the website, so we decided to show our google drive folder with all our works, which we planned to include in our online presence. We tried to ask Abid if he could work on the website, as he already did in the past for Holford Drive, and Hafsa would instead work on Instagram. However, we couldn't get hold of him again, so we had to ask Emma if she could work on it. By that time, I finished our third studio design, Hafsa completed designing our studio rules, Emma finished our flag, and Rahem finished the brand guideline. We had no news of Abid or our Instagram page, and neither our website was going well. After even Emma couldn't work on it and we had the presentation the next day, I decided to give it a try, and if even I couldn't make it in Cargo, we would have used mockups or Wix. In the beginning, it hard to use the website, but after I looked into some tutorial, I managed to do the whole presentation in a few hours. I hoped I started working on it before, so I had more time experimenting with the website. We had a bit of an argument on the day of the presentation, as our Instagram wasn't ready, and Abid wouldn't take anything seriously. I was angry after our presentation. Everything went well, our works when we put everything together came out better than we expected, but the problem was our social media. Abid didn't come to college, and neither did he attend the session online, so we had to present even his part. The posts weren't well laid out, there were repeated works for no reasons, and it was all plain and didn't portrait our studio at all. I know everyone has personal problems, but if you are in a group, you are supposed to collaborate. We did divide all the work between us, but that didn't mean we only do our part, and that is it. I feel like you have to contribute even with your ideas and feedback, so everyone is part of all the works. I hoped we had more communication in the group. I did my best to bring the group together and collaborate but felt like I was chasing for no reason someone who had to do their work share opinions with no success. As much fun as it was at the beginning of the project, I am happy group works are done. I know you can't decide your partners in a real studio, and I am fine with compromising with ideas and roles, but one thing is clear to me now, that I won't work with people who won't do the bare minimum of their work. I felt really stressed for the last two weeks. Not knowing how part of our project is going is annoying and frustrating. There always is a problem in group projects. I had them even before. But this time, I couldn't bear anymore with all the issues they made me lose patience. I think I work better alone, as group projects aren't the best, especially if a part of the group works hard and the other won't do anything. Besides all the issues, I am happy with my works, which helped me think about my FMP. Even though I'm not clear yet on the brief, I have enough materials to work on.

[musicmaking-basics]

Opinion: Frustrating Fanboys

Oh, how I would like it if this were about frustrating the fanboys, but no... it’s about irritating fanboys, the likes of which you run across when you frequent social media for a while.

To me a fanboy is someone who is so emotionally attached to a product or line of products, they start to irrationally defend things worthy of criticism or can see no wrong in a company’s behavior.

In general fanboys cluster around companies that make quality products on average. The two examples I’m listing are high profile companies that make popular products and in general have a good reputation.

FL Studio All Plugins Edition

The recent controversy is FL Studio by Image-Line. Apparently usually FL Studio doesn’t go on sale, but this year one edition did - the “All Plugins Edition”. It is their most expensive offer currently. They offer quite a rebate, too!

Where it gets fishy is that apparently the All Plugins Edition is not only new - maybe introduced with this sale? I couldn’t verify, but people on social media claim it - but named almost alike to the previous All Plugins Bundle which came for a similar price point (non-rebated).

People have been confused by the wording. The All Plugins Bundle contained all of FL Studio’s plugins also as VST versions you could use outside of FL Studio and many people like that. In contrast, the All Plugins Edition contains only plugins internal to FL Studio - what many people would consider an inferior offer. The information is not exactly hidden and not exactly advertised. They say “native” plugins and if you go into the details of any plugin on offer you get this:

All of this were kinda fine were it not for the fact of the way the product is named. It is not named “All Native Plugins Edition” - but it is named almost but not quite alike to the popular “All Plugins Bundle” which you can still buy from resellers.

For me that was a hard pass. But cue the fanboys... People started to point this out and complain about it in social media, calling it basically misleading marketing.

Fanboy defense #1: Do your due diligence. Read everything, all manuals, EULAs, whatever. (And people who don’t do this are ignorant, etc.)

But... None of this changes that the name is intentionally misleading. It’s a shite move intended to confuse buyers. And it seems to work. Why blame customers for this? They didn’t pick the name!

Fanboy defense #2: All major DAWs contain internal/native plugins mostly in their bundles. Everybody does it.

But... They didn’t release an almost identically named product that allures to a previous product, making it seem that a much coveted product had gone on sale and then perform a sleight of hand hiding behind asterisks and the word “native.”

Fanboy defense #3: You can use FL Studio as a host plugin in another DAW.

Technically correct, but the overhead of using a full host plugin instead of an instrument plugin consumes more CPU and memory. It probably also adds to the latency. These things aren’t trivialities when you try to make any kind of moderately complex projects, even with modern computers. This is the main reason why people buy VST versions of popular Imagine-Line plugins, after all. To get efficient access to their capabilities.

Hey, nobody was saying FL Studio isn’t good. But fanboys put all blame solely on anyone voicing criticism of a company that just is trying to pull a 400 bucks fast one. 

Things that fanboys will do: Never concede a single point, and if you actualy do, immediately raise another smoke screen as diversion. The company can do no wrong...

And we’ll see more of this.

Spitfire Audio Refund policy

I recently ran afoul, admittedly unexpectedly, of the refund policy of Spitfire Audio. I bought a plugin by them and it just wasn’t really good - in my opinion. So I researched if I could get a refund for my 100 bucks purchase.

You should have seen the vitriol I found when others opened such topics. (I did some research.) It’s one of the worse corners of the internet. People who even brought up the topic were ridiculed, basically called ignorant, and made wrong in every possible way. Quite hostile!

The refund policy of SA is quite easy - if you downloaded it, you can’t refund.

Now there’s the justification that you already got the samples and could do whatever you want with them - they are sample-based instruments after all. And furthermore you can watch the walkthrough videos and listen to sample pieces to get an impression.

And that’s just silly. What did they promise me for eDNA Earth? Thousands of of interesting presets. The walkthrough video seemed interesting, I watched it. I knew what the software can be roughly expected to do. What I couldn’t know: The presets accompanying it sound all alot the same. Lots and lots of slow-evolving sounds, kind of drone-ish. There was no true variety. It does mostly one thing. Try gleaming that from a video intended to market it.

And that’s something you find out by trying things. Since this is a Kontakt instrument they probably could have encrypted the samples or definitely have made a demo you can fool around with. But they didn’t.

I didn’t take to social media to vent my frustration. I didn’t have the heart for it, seeing how people had behaved on previous occasions. I just chalked it up as a loss and learning experience.

Fanboy Defense #1: It’s all there in the EULA.

This is indeed correct, but the first question is - why should we defend them for refusing refunds? I think this no-refund policy actually penalizes people who are willing to put down money for their products in the first place. Why do we defend this circumventing of good consumer protection practices?

Fanboy Defense #2: You should have read the manual.

People on a forum (KVR Audio) were acting like reading the manual of a Spitfire Product is an eye-opening revelation that would have prevented any mistakes from being made.

I read the manual for the nearly-a-thousand-bucks BBC Symphonic Orchestra Pro. At 43 pages it isn’t very informative! I couldn’t even ascertain whether the Leader microphones meant you could use the section leaders as soloists, in fact the manual gave me the opposite impression - that they just make the group sound smaller. (Not true.)

Out of these 43 pages a lot is installation and such and the topic of available articulations, techniques, etc is basically handled in 5 pages of plain lists at the end. There is no level of detail here, and pointing to such a manual and claiming this will answer your questions is... bollocks.

Fanboy Defense #3: They do walkthrough videos, really detailed ones.

They do! Often really impressive, highlighting the strengths of each product. But also a marketing tool, so they won’t tell you what it can’t do, it’s always obviously good for everything, too. All is fair in marketing!

But this is where it gets highly annoying - it’s not only the fanboys who voice that this is enough. They are repeating SA’s stated policy back to you. And it’s a weak one - because a marketing video is at odds with the idea of fully informing you.

Having said that, another user helped me out with my questions about section Leader mikes and the walkthrough of BBCSO shows how to use them to solo the section leader. You can gleam a lot of information about what a thing can do from their walkthrough video.

But... try to find out what it cannot do? That’s detective work.

Fanboy Defense #4: All other orchestral vendors do it too.

This is... just facepalm territory. You can’t call out something bad because nobody does it better.

Fanboy Defense #5: There’s no way to protect the samples.

Well, it seems like Kontakt has a way. (eDNA Earth, for example, is a Kontakt library.) You can encrypt samples. (Cue fanboys: “NOOOO. I don’t want encrypted samples!!” I’m talking about a demo here.) This is an industry requiring multiple authentication solutions to exist on your computer, which watermarks your samples to prevent piracy, which requires USB dongles, logging into online accounts, and what not.

And you tell me they can’t do a demo that protects their intellectual property? In the age of DRM? I would be willing to accept DRM in a demo if it leads to both sides winning - the customer can try before buying, and SA protects its IP. Fine with me, nobody has to use the demo after all.

Case in point: BBSCO Discovery is beautiful demo of the basic capabilities of BBCSO. It actually excited me about the library. Can I try every feature? No. Can I collect my own impression? Yes. And there’s a good chance I will upgrade it on their next sale. Both can win - SA and me. Why not always this way? (This one doesn’t even require DRM or sample encryption, so that’s an awesome bonus.)

Conclusion

And much more would be possible. Maybe if we stop drinking the industry’s Kool Aid they would actually improve their offers in these regards too. They are, after all, there to earn our money. That is their purpose.

I don’t fault them for wanting to earn money. I am aware they put a lot of work in to make quality products. They should get fair compensation.

But that doesn’t shield them from all criticism in areas where they are clearly lacking. Unfair marketing practices need to be called out. Refund policies undermining basic consumer rights because they can get away with it (thanks, politics!) need to be called out.

You need to be able to at least voice your frustration or annoyance without being belittled by a rabid horde of fanboys. Love the products all you want, and I sure don’t hate them, either! I just find things worthy of criticism and criticize them. They can continue making great products without these policies. Why find ever new ways of saying “No, this is really great! (Except for you.) They shouldn’t change anything! (Especially not for your benefit.)”

People who bring criticism are not saying a product or company is shit. They are saying something is not right here. I have no idea what the fanboys get out of their behavior - is it a self-righteous validation? Or is their identity so tied into a product that any criticism is taken personal? These are companies, folks. They want to make money. They need checks and balances from the consumer side because clearly no one else will do it apparently.

As I said: Love the products. Enjoy your purchases. Make great music. But don’t hate on people who disagree or run afoul of a corporate policy.