#i was looking at articles about ace report stuff and my surprise at seeing so much acephobia led to me making this

[meoskyan]

acephobia is so stupid to the point it's comical

#anyway i struggled to come up with visual that fits to draw in the middle so any suggestions is appreciated #maybe ill add some shadows later #art #digital art #drawing #doodle #poster #poster attempt #asexual #ace #asexuality #acephobia #i was looking at articles about ace report stuff and my surprise at seeing so much acephobia led to me making this #some of the acephobic crap people say about aces is so dumb like what u u actually believe that

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Pro Athlete Sirius because that my and Remus' kink

~Notes: OMFG VICTOrIA!!!! I FUCKING SCREECHED!!!! lkadfjlaksdgjoiaejfalskdgjioeugisfkldshg Yes tis my kink as well!!! And then I saw this from Nonny and worlds collided and BOOM! I hope you like this my love<3<3 You incredibly talented sugarplum!!! TBH I want to write a thousand more things in this AU XD

.-

FROM THIS LIST  |  Send Me A Prompt!💜 | A REBLOG MEANS THE GALAXY!!💜

.-

When Remus was young— surrounded by the light breeze of the Welsh coast and the harmony of birds chirping in the distance— he would follow his mother to their small garden behind their cottage  at the cusp of twilight as his father cooked their supper, and he’d watch as she laid flat all sorts of newspapers written in French and Arabic and English, watch as she brought her red pen against the ink and marked the articles with underlines and shorthand he wouldn’t understand for years still.

He asked her once, when he was barely eight years old, why she bothered to keep up with so many different publications, why she read the same story penned by countless perspectives when all the facts stayed the same at the end of the day. And he remembers how she had let out a quick, shrill of a laugh, tossing back her golden head while sucking in a puff from the bubbling hookah she had set up besides her— a habit she acquired from her Algerian, refugee parents, and one that became synonymous to those late nights in Remus’s eyes.

“Facts can be wielded to someone’s personal vendettas, Remus John,” she had crooned in that adoring way of hers whenever she spoke to him— honey eyes that were the same color and shape to Remus’s own flashing alight and their matching smiles going crooked in her stunningly beautiful face. 

“Oh.” Remus had replied, still confused as all get out but was perfectly fine with just holding his small vigil, watching her beneath moonlight and the soft glow of their outdoors lamps, as he listened to the shuffling of papers while she commenced this odd quirk. 

It’s a decade and a half later—  as his editor for the Phoenix, a small, but bustling online editorial that plans on dethroning the likes of Politico and Vox in only a matter of years, scans his latest findings on the corrupt boosters linked to MP Avery from Leeds— when Remus thinks he suddenly understands what his mother, with her keen eyes and pixelated air, had meant by facts in how they can be colored differently simply by the words surrounding them. And he wonders if one day soon, one of his bylines will join her little stack of stories, if she’ll be proud of him even if she says as much even now, when he’s a lost twenty-something stumbling through life in the capitol and barely making it as is, between his actual job and the gig he has at the coffee shop nearest his dingy flat he shares with three other blokes.

“Mmm, this is good, Lupin,” Dorcas declares after what feels like an eon, dropping her long, dark legs from where they were lounging leisurely on her desk and scuffs out her cigarette in a pretty, glass ashtray. “Send it over to Flores to look into deeper, maybe it’ll corroborate the info she’s already gotten from her sources.”

Remus feels himself bristle, hopes that it doesn’t show, that his face stays passive as he contends, “I think I should at least help her write the expose, I’m the one who got this bombshell.”

“That’s not how it works, sweets,” Dorcas toots, tossing back her dark head of curls as she rises, perching on the corner of her desk delicately and looking down, straight into his gaze. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re fresh blood. barely six months here, but Alice has been with us for years. This is her baby, and we’re just here to nurture it.”

“So I’ll have to wait another ten months, at least,  to get the same treatment?” He argues in an admittedly petulant way, making Dorcas laugh endearingly, and Remus is suddenly,  searingly reminded of his age, and how he’s the youngest staffer that this London based news outlet has on hand. 

“C’mon, love, it won’t be that long for someone as sharp as you, just be patient, and don’t try to pull a Zoe Barnes on us, yeah? You’re far too pretty to clean up on the rails of  the tube.” Dorcas tousles a hand into his dark tawny curls, and Remus holds back the roll to his eyes that he feels willing up inside of him as he stands fully.

“Thanks Cas.”

She smiles beatifically, and throws him a wink. “You’re joining Emmy for the report tomorrow on those United footballers and their fundraiser for the hospital, yeah?”

“Bright and early,” Remus replies, still feels a bit miffed that he was chosen to write up the charity function, considering he doesn’t know a lick about football and doesn’t really get on with anyone who does. But Caradoc— their typical sports reporter— is out sick with the flew, so it’s on him. “I’ll have it on your desk early enough so it’ll be published by tea time.”

“Good man,” Dorcas says in thanks, picking up her crowing cellphone before waving him off.

Remus isn’t all that surprised when he strides out of the office only to find Benjy Fenwick sitting against the opposite wall, knees pressed to his chest and quickly scrambling up when he catches sight of Remus. Sometimes it’s impossible to believe that the bespectacled man in front of him is one of the top editors for the Phoenix, that he’s a regular corespondent for places like the BBC or CNN— that his rebukes against the piss poor inquiries waged during PMQs have become more anticipated than the sessions themselves. Remus tends to forget all of that when he sees him like this, messy haired and wearing a graphic T-shirt with some marvel superhero embossed on the front. “Wotcher Remus.”

“Hiya Remus says, smiling softly and rocking back on his heels. “You wanted to talk to the sergeant then?”

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I didn’t want to talk to Dorcas, I just— Erm, I know you were showing her that stuff you got from that intern, Pettigrew, and i know you were chafed about not getting any opportunity here so—“ He trails off, scratching the back of his head and studying a point over Remus’s shoulder, and it’s all too endearing, and Remus is so beyond thankful he’s made such a good friend here.

“No cigar,” he says in answer to the unspoken question, shrugging noncommittally even if he feels like shit over it.

Benjy nods, face contrite in a way that tells Remus he never thought it would’ve went otherwise. “I’m sorry, that’s bollocks.”

“’S whatever,” Remus shrugs off the apology, begins walking down the hall and straightening his report to hand over to Alice. 

“Ah,, erm. We can get a drink, yeah? In commiseration,” Benjy offers, and Remus stilts only for a beat before continuing the twisting trail to where Alice is set up with the more senior members on staff. And he feels only sorta bad about wanting to refuse. He knows that if he says yes, it’ll mean something different to Benjy than it does him, that he’ll probably take it as Remus finally giving into his pestering and deciding to actually go out with him, even if he’s refuted the other four times he’s asked as much. Remus’s simply just too busy trying to get a footing in this city, and trying to figure out where he’s suppose to go from here, and what he’s suppose to do. And yes, Benjy is cute— a complete Seth Cohen archetype. And he’s sweet and smart and funny enough. But Remus is really not in the mood for doing the whole flowers and wine and candle lit dinners shtick, had gotten enough of that while still with his university boyfriend. And yeah, he’s only just turned 24, but he already feels too old and too jaded for that sort of puppy love— even if Benjy’s got a good decade and some change on him.

Probably sensing his hesitation, Benjy is quick to rectify the offer. “I’ll ask Mary, and Fabian too, and a few others. We can make a night of it, just some drinks on a Friday after work.”

Stalling by the last turn to Alice’s desk, Remus looks at him from over his shoulder, and sort of hates himself for being such a soft hearted fuck sometimes. “Yeah Benj, sounds nice. Just let me know on the group chat, yeah?”

Benjy grins, much more genuine than his awkward quirk of the lips from earlier. “Yeah, good call, I’ll let the others know pronto.”

“Aces,” Remus says, tosses him a obligatory thumbs-up before finding an expectant looking Alice who’s tapping her foot impatiently.

Yeah, today is so bloody shit.

.-

Surprisingly, the round of drinks turns to another and then a third and fourth and Remus is currently nursing his fifth mango margarita on Benjy’s tab, and he actually feels lighter than he has since taking the job at Phoenix, feels bright and bubbling and like absolutely nothing could be wrong as long as he’s got this drink in his grasp and he’s sitting with the handful of reporters and photographers from the office that don’t all have sticks up their asses. It’s fun, it’s good. So obviously it couldn’t have lasted.

Mary is currently cackling about her Uber driver from last night who asked her all sorts of well meaning, but incredibly dense questions about her hijab— a freshly poured glass of coke in one hand, while the other is tangled into her girlfriend Emmy’s. And From his left Remus can hear Fabian ribbing Frank on his crush on Alice, while Benjy scoots intermittently closer as they watch Kingsley and Marlene sparring over something to do with a Kardashian or TikTok trend or whatever the fuck else— The guy has resilience, Remus has to give Benjy that.

“Right, who’s buying next?” Marlene asks, abrasive as ever while scrolling through her phone, ostensively finding something to prove her point against the managing editor.

“Reckon it’s my turn,” Benjy crows, standing up smoothly and glancing down at Remus with a nervous sort of half grin.

“Just a water for me, ta. I need to sober up,” Remus tells him, feels proud that he didn’t even slur slightly. Benjy bobs his head understandingly, and Remus turns to ask Marlene about her latest tinder hookup which always is a good laugh, but then he catches on it. On the sound of the pub’s doors flinging open, followed by a raucous crowd of athletic looking guys probably only a bit older than he is, clambering indoors. 

They’re all so very sixth-form, broad grins and slapping each other’s shoulders with jeers, topped off with loud, bark like laughter that makes it obvious to Remus that these wankers think that they’re some sort of group of gods amongst men, roaming around like everyone should fall to their feet and offer everything they have. It makes Remus roll his eyes so far back that it feels like he might’ve sprained them. They just give off this exhausting aura that reminds him of a past boyfriend in tenth year who was on the footie team and who’s favorite activity was either making Remus feel lucky enough to go out with someone so popular, or dragging him around like some sort of bloody trophy.

To put it nicely, Remus sorta hates them on sight. So when he sees one of the tossers— regrettably the brightest of the lot who’s all pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste in an objectively infuriating matter— swivels up to the barkeep and jostles Benjy on his way, well Remus doesn’t hesitate to dart forwards to tell him off.

“Oi, watch where you’re going, yeah?”

Benjy and the bloke who looks like he might moonlight as a model for Calvin briefs for when he’s not lounging in a yacht off the Tuscany coast, both turn to him at the same time. Benjy looking abashed, and the aforementioned tosser preening like the cat who’s just caught a canary.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t see you there,” he says in a delightfully deep tenner, giving Remus an appreciative once over, and Remus absolutely despises how the action makes him feel both thrilled and irritated. “Trust and believe, I wouldn’t have looked away if I saw you.”

“Not me, arse.” Remus spits back, refuses to pay any credence to how his cheeks have begun to flush. “You bumped into my mate right there, the one with the tray of loggers.”

The tosser darts his almost molten gray eyes over to Benjy for a sparing second before he laser focusses back onto Remus, the most phony expression of contrition all over his face. “Sorry to your friend,” he says the descriptor like a joke that no one else is in on. “Let me buy you a drink in sorry for the one I made slim here spill.”

Remus is officially unimpressed, hopes that his flat tone gets it across. “You’re an arse.”

“You’re mouthy,” he retorts, looks like it’s something he greatly appreciates— delights over even. 

“Ah, ’s fine Remus, really. I’ll just bring these back and get us a new glass.”

“Listen to slim, Remus, he’s got the right idea.” The tosser hurriedly interjects, strutting close enough to him that he makes it so Remus has to tip his head back just slightly so not to drop his gaze. “I’m Black, Sirius Black, just to get the pleasantries out of the way.” His leer tells Remus that the name should probably evoke some response of aw into Remus, but all it does is make him sound so egregiously pretentious that Remus wants to smack his own bloody head against a dry wall and stay in the hole until this ruddy Sirius bloke leaves him the hell alone.

“Good for you,” he says instead of all of that, and spots Sirius’s friends from behind Sirius chuckling and elbowing one another. Evidently this is a line the tosser uses frequently, and Remus is pleased that he might be one of the first who aren’t at all impressed by the grandiose way he introduced himself.

“Hah, you know I’m use to the pretty ones playing hard to get, but I’m really feeling here that you’re not exactly liking my company, love.”

Remus sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose, shouldering past Sirius and taking the tray of drinks from Benjy before storming back to their table where the others have begun openly gawping at the scene— Marlene outright squawking with Fabian just as Remus takes his seat.

“Don’t,” Remus warns them all as he silently says fuck off to the water and instead gargles down one of the loggers. And if he has to steadfastly not turn around for the rest of the night towards where he can feel Sirius’s gaze burning into his back— well then so be it.

.-

The next morning, Remus has to puke twice into the toilet, and gulps down three aspirins just to stave off his bloody hangover from the night before where he decided that getting properly sloshed would prove as a good technique to not end up making out with Sirius in some dark corner— or regrettably the backseat of his car. And if he does still remember flashes of ranting to him about how insufferable preppy, rich boys actually are while Sirius gazed at him endeared— well Remus just decides to purge it out along with the stomach acid. It’s not like he’ll ever see the douche again.

.-

He meets Arthur— one of the accountants who also helps out by taking photos for more low key news stories— outside the hospital where the conference will be taking place with the Manchester United team. There was a scrimmage that they all played with some of the kids in the cancer ward that occurred at around eight in the ruddy morning, but thankfully Remus didn’t have to show up until an hour later when the team presented their big shiny check, to the big, shiny hospital. 

However, Arthur has been here for hours, so he’s beyond chirpy and looks like he’s downed three cups of espresso as he chatters on about his son Percy starting secondary school, and his eldest, Bill, getting an award for his reading prowess, and all the strange craving his wife has been having throughout her pregnancy with the twins they’re expecting any week now. And Remus loves Arthur, he does— one of the sweetest folks he’s ever met— but God, his head is still thrumming from those misguided tequila shots and he really just wants to get his three quotes, and write up the story so he can find refuge back in his sheets.

While Arthur has moved to talking about his wife, Molly’s, plans to open up a daycare in their refurnished garage, Remus scans his eyes over the familiar face of reporters from other outlets who look just as bored as him, and then to the stage where a woman in a sharply pressed suit is ushering for the group of football stars to join her, so that the conference can finally fucking begin. 

And Remus thinks that their faces are sorta familiar, probably from all the publicity they get on the telly— but then he freezes as he stops at one of them with dark brown skin, and thick rimmed spectacles— and he suddenly can hear him chatting about his redheaded girlfriend and drunkenly declaring that she’ll be the mother of his children some day soon. So he completely expects it when his stomach drops as he moves his glance just a bit to the right, being struck by pearly teeth, and glittering eyes and incredibly impressive shoulders that tape off to a narrow waste, made all the more infuriating by the tight kit he’s got on and the blazing number twelve splayed against his chest.

And fuck.

Remus runs through about a dozen scenarios in which he can make a discrete, or not so discrete exit before he notices him, but in tandem to his spiraling thoughts, the wanker actually looks forwards, and like a creepy metal detector, his quick silver gaze pinpoints onto Remus.

They stare at one another for a beat before his smirk goes wolfish, and he runs a hand through his artfully tousled hair in a way that practically screams, fancy meeting you here. And holy fuck he looks so mouth watteringly attractive with that faint film of sweat running down his neck, and how his smile pulls slightly more to the left, and how he’s looking at Remus like he’s his birthday and Christmas presents all rolled into one.

Remus suddenly hates everything— but most of all hates Sirius, and how bloody fit he is.

“Oh, you’re a fan then?” 

Starting, Remus shifts around slightly so that he’s facing Arthur completely. “Pardon?”

“Sirius Black I mean, you’re a fan?” Arthur asks in that abrasively congenial and intensely scrutinizing way that he treats everything. “I mean he’s a great player, but I know you don’t really watch. So I bet it’s all that charity work he does, yeah?”

“Charity work?” Remus echos, feeling like a floundering fish.

“Truly some amazing stuff.” Arthur pontificates, rubbing a hand against his jaw as he tips his head back. “I mean obviously I’m partial to the fundraising for Reporters Without Borders, but of course the things he does with the more impoverished kids is great. And I know Molly likes his very outspoken posts about being anti war and his annual live streams to earn money for refugees in those war torn nations, like the last one he did for Syria?”

“Oh—“ Remus says, feeling like his head is being overrun by a fountain of new information.

“Yes well, you don’t usually see athletes get into the thick of it with political issues, but I reckon he never really minded. I mean the fact he’s the first football star from United to have come out without any fanfare really proved that. Oh, I think they’re starting, I should probably get some photos before Dorcas gives me a tongue lashing.”

And as quick as the flash of his camera’s lends, Arthur is using his considerable height to get to a more advantageous spot towards the front, and leaves Remus in the dust, as if he hasn’t just obliterated his every assumption of Sirius from after that initial meeting.

And unbidden, the words his mother had told him so many years ago, about facts and how they can color a situation just simply based off the person who’s speaking them— flood to the forefront of his mind.

“Fucking hell,” Remus mutters lowly, gets jostled by Greengrass, a hawkish reporter from a rivaling publication who always has on the most wickedly sharp acrylic nails, and perfectly quaffed curls— as she waves around her certification to speak her inquiry.

“My question is for Potter,” she announces when the woman leading the event, McGonagall, points her way. “And I was wondering how early you boys have to rise for training during the season? And how intense the sessions are that Coach Hooch puts you guys through?”

Potter, the one with the redheaded girlfriend that Remus heard so much about last night between his ranting at Sirius, parts his lips, but it’s not his voice that ends up reverberating through the outdoors space. Instead, it’s Sirius, who’s shouldering him with a goading air, obviously expecting his comment to have only ended up in Potter’s ear and not caught by the mike.

“I wonder if Lupin will let me wake up with’m so he can let me get some real training done before practices, eh?”

And just as soon as his words pitter off, the entire crowd drops to a hush— quiet enough so that they could probably hear it if a pen dropped. 

Sirius’s handsome face— strong jawline, and broad but sharp cheekbones, and a long, narrow nose— goes suddenly ashen, and he flashes over to Remus as if he’s terrified that he’ll bite his face off.

God, what an idiot.

With a long suffering sigh, Remus plucks out the microphone from a slack faced Greengrass’s hand. “We can discuss the regimen afterwards, Black. Just meet me by the front doors and let your mate answer the bloody question.”

Everyone around them falls into laughter that’s caught between uncomfortable chuckles and amazingly amused cackling, but the only person Remus is paying any mind is Sirius, and how he seems to have gone absolutely incandescent, nodding electrically before miming the zip of his lips and gesturing for Potter to carry on.

Jesus help him, Remus has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist

~Buy Me A Coffee 

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #THE HARRY POTTER SERIES #MARAUDERS #HARRY POTTER SERIES #ILU Victoria!!! #also to anyone side eyeing the buy me a coffee plz do not judge me #i am so searing embarrassed about it #rip #just it's there i guess #calls;jalksdgjaeowifjsadlkgh #look away from me #!!! #lmfao #spilt ink

[codenamesazanka]

Short Spinner Fic!

Well, more like meta/headcanon turned prose. Sorta. unbeta’d, terrible grammar prob, very on the nose, but I just had to write something that dealt with what we learned about Spinner’s past. 

1,615 words. Set right after Stain got captured, with all that fun stuff about discrimination. 

-

The night Spinner saw the news report that would change his life, he had spent ten minutes lingering outside his landlord’s door, trying to work up the nerve to knock.

From his third floor apartment to her home on the first floor - that short walk took three minutes maximum, but in that time the heat and humidity of the May evening had already made his hair damp and the collar of his shirt slightly darken with moisture. By the dim glow of the streetlight, Spinner tried to use his phone’s selfie camera to see if he looked too bad, but his nervousness at appearing sloppy only added sweat to his sorry appearance. The snickering of a couple of kids that passed by him hadn’t help.

He should be fine, Spinner had muttered to himself, tried to convince himself, shoving the phone into a pocket. He was fine. She wasn’t going to even notice.

But of course she did. When his landlord opened the door, he saw her smile fade slightly at the sight of him; then the curve of her mouth disappeared completely as her eyes swept over his messy hair and landed on his hand that was discreetly trying to stop his shirt from sticking to his skin.

It was only downhill from there.

He had stammered, had tried to keep a smile on his face until he realize he was probably looking like crazy dumbass; then he had worried too much about the appropriate distance he should be keeping (His landlord was a petite woman that barely reached maybe 5 foot, and he was a 6-foot lizard man. Standing too far away would be weird, and standing too close meant, besides the obvious, that he would have to look down at her, which he thought might seem disrespectful).

When he told her about the broken AC, she had asked if he wasn’t enjoying the warm weather, and Spinner had let the silence drag on too long as he wondered what she might have meant by that. Such an innocuous question, but it made his pulse quicken. Was she making a comment that assumed he was more comfortable with heat because he looked like a lizard (answer: no, because he wasn’t cold-blooded; so no, he didn’t like the heat; and yes, he can get heatstroke, so if the AC wasn’t going to get fixed in time for the worst heat of July...)? Did that mean she wasn’t going to do anything about it, if it didn’t seem like a serious matter?

Or was he being paranoid? Insulting, even, for this unfounded accusation?

So the talk had achieved nothing, except maybe giving his landlord an even worse impression of him. He hadn’t even told her about the suspicious grey spots that was covering more and more of his ceiling with each passing day. (Monsoon season sucked.)

Back at his apartment, Spinner opened a can of beer and sat slumped against the wall, using his phone to look up ways to remove the mold himself. He clicked the first link, found himself immediately redirected to a product page that flashed it’s 5500 yen deal at him, and promptly gave up.

That was when he opened his Tweetr feed for some mindless scrolling and saw the internet aflame with news about an attack on Hosu.

-

All day at work, Spinner kept checking for updates on the Hero Killer Stain, so much that his boss threaten to break his phone and fire him. But even that couldn’t clear the cloud of obsession that had developed inside his head.

At first it was simply fun to watch and rewatch the video of him rescuing a kid, how cool it was to see the man escape from the ropes that bound him, zoomed past the Heroes, leapt into the air to take down the winged beast with a single stab to the brain. Those blades and that red scarf, snaking through the air behind him. All in a matter of seconds, and all that not being his quirk. Pure normal human ability.

From there, it was reading the articles that kept coming out - that happened in Hosu, who Stain was, what he had done.

What he believed in.

There was once when Spinner wanted to be a Hero. What kid hadn’t? He dreamed of it. Being able to wear an awesome costume, beating up bad guys and bullies and saving people, getting to be on TV and making lots of money. Heroes were amazing and they could do anything. Heroes had all sorts of different quirks, the only thing that matter being how well they could use their ability. Heroes could be anyone - even mutants like him.

And as dreams do, that faded when he grew up and woke up to real life.

Watching the viral video that someone had made of the Hero Killer, though, Spinner realized Stain kept his dream. Forced it into reality, undaunted by hard work or danger or the law. He saw something wrong with the world and decided to change it. Just like that. It was badass. It was admirable.

It was Heroic.

So how ironic and slightly disappointing it was, that Stain was now called a Villain, that it turned out he was working with that group that attacked those UA kids a few months back. Spinner found the grainy zoomed-in clip of the two guys standing on top of a water tower, watching the chaos in the city below. He found all he could about the UA incident and the man the news named as Shigaraki Tomura.

He was part of this group that Stain joined, and Spinner wondered if maybe, like Stain, he wasn’t just a Villain. Like Stain, he was out to change the world.

-

In the origin story of Spinner, Villain, would be the cup of tea that made a crucial decision for him.

His landlord’s apartment was ten times the size of his tiny one-room apartment, and Spinner felt almost agoraphobic sitting in her living room. This was a proper home, well cared for, housing a family. The last time Spinner had even spoken to a blood relative of his was years ago. He was intruding.

But the landlord had done a surprise inspection while he was at work, and she was concerned about the mold on his ceiling. In his zeal over Stain, Spinner had completely forgotten about dealing with that. Now he got to do a redux of the talk from a few days ago, and he had a feeling this might go even worse.

He never would find out if that was true, nor would he find out what would have been done about the mold. A few words into the small talk that preceded the actual conversation, his landlord’s young son had tried to be helpful and brought tea for both his mom and Spinner. Kid was probably only in elementary school, but so polite. Too much so.

Spinner watched as his landlord shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyes flickering back and forth from the cup of tea set in front of Spinner, and Spinner himself.

It felt unbearably hot and suffocating in the room.

(Once, a cousin told Spinner that regardless of how much DNA would prove they were human, they weren’t. Not really, not in practice, not to the people they live among. They looked like lizards, so they’d be treated like lizards. Like animals, and you wouldn’t feed your pet using a bowl you would use, right? It’ll be dirty, no matter how much you washed it. That’s why there’s food bowls specifically for your dog, cat, whatever.)

It was much too late to for her to take back the drink without seeming astonishingly rude. Maybe Spinner should help her save face and decline the tea, have the kid take it away. Maybe he can use this as leverage for the mold problem. Maybe--

--he shouldn’t have to put up with this. There were people out there right now, ready to face down Heroes and police and society, ready to create change, ready to take their lives and fate into their hands and shape it to their liking. Stain hadn’t allow himself to be trampled down.

Spinner shouldn’t either.

That was when he stood up and left without a word.

-

The leader was different than what Spinner expected.

In the small private bar that the broker had taken him to, Shigaraki Tomura sat on one of the stools, young and bone-thin, dressed so plainly in simple black shirt and pants. Not quite the criminal mastermind Spinner imagined. Yet all attention in the room was held by him, and he wielded that authority with ease.

“Shuichi Iguchi… Spinner.” Shigaraki spoke and Spinner anticipated each word. “Our fight is for all the right reasons, but the world is going to hate us for it. Condemn us. Try to destroy us. We’ll have to return in kind. We’ll have get our hands dirty, we’ll have to sacrifice a lot.”

Shigaraki shifted his head, and suddenly all Spinner could focus on was that one red eye looking through the fingers of the severed hand on his face, filled with all the same rage and desire and intensity that Stain had. Its gaze pierce through Spinner, making him wince as though he was physically cut.  

Hatred was nothing new to him, though, and he had nothing else in this world than this newfound will. He’d do anything, all for Stain. All for his new comrades. All this, Spinner said out loud.

Shigaraki grinned at him, a smile so wide and vicious and-- happy, that Spinner felt his own face mirror that excitement.

“Welcome to the League of Villains.”

-

So my Spinner goes from a nervous mild-mannered guy trying to live a life, to a terrorist ready to murder kids in like three short days. I should figure out his characterization better next time lol

#nalslastworkingbraincell #nalwrites #Spinner #Shigaraki Tomura #Shuichi Iguchi #Stain - sorta #fanfiction #microaggressions and housing discrimination and dehumanization oh my #am i just set on making the bnha universe a pile of crap #perhaps #oops #we don't know if it's this bad but #i'm gonna let my imagination go wild #League of Villains #as for my other story... #it's getting beta-read! #i'll have it out by friday prob #my apologies

[sparkstar-trash]

4 Time Deadpool Met Peter +1 Time Spider-man Met Wade

Summary: I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I felt almost guilty; of course he would act different around me. I wasn’t Spider-man, I was just some kid he had randomly found on a rooftop at night. It would be nice to banter more with him like Spidey and he did, though.

Peter keeps on meeting Deadpool in weird and wonderful places and has no idea why he keeps on coming around.

At least he's great company...

Written for Spideypool Prompt Bang 2018!

Words: 3814

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409482

1.

It was a quiet night.

For me they tended to be rare, but for once I was sitting on the edge of a building watching the twinkling lights rather than swinging around looking for trouble.

I couldn’t see any stars past the pollution but I didn't really mind. Watching over the city I protected (or at least tried to) and just looking at it was almost... meditative.

Maybe it was the finals getting to me, maybe it was the weight of what I do. For some reason I had ended up here without my Spider-man suit: I had left it behind in my dorm. Even if I wanted to go help someone right now, I couldn't.

It left an anxious feeling at the bottom of my stomach, threatening to eat me alive with guilt, but for once I did my best to ignore it and just be in the moment. If I was really desperate, home was only a building away.

And for some reason, just letting myself sit in the here and now felt ok.

So when I heard a thump behind me, it’s safe to say I didn’t nearly scream. Nor did I turn around too quickly and lose my balance.

That wasn’t at all how I ended up with a red and black mask in my face, a hand  gripping my shirt so tight it was threatening to rip, and my heart pounding out of my chest while I hung with only one foot connected to the roof, the rest of me out in mid-air.

Nope, not at all.

There was a pause that went on for way too long. It gave me ample time to figure out that not only had I nearly fallen off a roof in civvies, I had been rescued by none other than… Deadpool.

And just when I thought my night couldn’t get any better.

It just had to be now while I was relaxed that my powers, for whatever reason, weren't going to work and not tell me there was a certain red spandexed anti-hero behind me .

Ugh.

He was definitely studying me , too. I really wasn’t sure what he would see. I mean, at the moment, I was just… Peter. An average looking guy, with boring features that made me blend into any crowd. The nerd who could solve a math question at a glance but couldn't do anything socially to save their life. Maybe he was observing the bags under my eyes? The wide-eyed look I was giving him as I grabbed on to him for dear life?

Wait, I was holding on to his shoulders like we were having- NOPE NOPE NOPE.

You never really knew with Deadpool. Was he oblivious, or playing it up as he stared at you? Was he thinking of all the ways he could kill you or was he about to hug you and squeal about how big of a fan he was? Wait: he wouldn't do that with civvy me... still.

“Uh… Deadpool?” I whispered, not daring to speak above a murmur. What if he startled and dropped me? If he did I would have to use at least some of my powers and then everything would be blown.

This was why I went everywhere with my suit, so that when Deadpool or the villain of the day or other superheroes turned up at least I knew what to say and do. Social things were hard! Spidey just made it easier.

He seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking and pulled me back on to solid ground. I stumbled a bit, keeping my grip on Deadpool’s arm as I rebalanced before sitting down.

Why did my legs feel like jelly? I was a superhero who dealt with heights all the time.  It definitely wasn’t because of Deadpool, nope. I refused to think that. (It totally was because of him… I loved it hated it). It was probably because I had been closer to having my secret identity blown than I had been for... couple days.

Yeah, that was right, because a neighbour had peeked out the window just as I climbed in and man, that had sent my heart rate soaring. But the guy was practically blind and had needed to grab glasses, and by that time I was already inside.

Secret identities sucked...

“What are you doing up here, baby boy?” He asked me, an almost fake cheerfulness to his voice as he rocked back and forth. “Haven’t you heard? Heights are a massive killer now-a-days and a cute thing like you should stay well away!”

“Um… I was… I was just-” Words, now was a good time to work.

“How old even are you? Do I need to send you home to your parents?” He interrupted my stuttering, tilting his head in an innocent gesture. I could tell he was still studying me though.

It definitely didn't make my already flushed face get redder. Nope. It was just from the cold...?

“What- no! I’m in college!”

“Sure you are kid, with a face like that one would think you’re-” he danced forward, leaning in almost uncomfortably close, “-a dancing queen! Young and sweet, only seventeen~!”

I shoved him away, “Dude I’m twenty-three.”

“No one’s too old for Abba!” He sniffed, wiping a fake tear out of his eye. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Or rub the back of my neck.

“Do you... do you want something?” I asked, turning around to go stand back by the edge.

He grabbed my arm and I resisted the urge to swat him off. “Woah hold on there kiddo, let's not get on edge now, yeah?”

I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow, “What do you mean by that?”

He seemed to glance between me and the side of the building. “You weren’t planning on jumping, by any chance?”

I flinched away from him and he let go of me, “The hell? No! I was just clearing my head.”

For once he actually looked ashamed, which made me blink in surprise. I had never seen that from him, not ever as Spider-man. It… it made me want to study him more, like he had been doing to me. Man, now would be a good time to have him unmasked. Then I could look at his eyes, his jawline, his lips, his nose, the way those features shifted and changed when he told a joke- wait, hold up.

“Oh, sorry. Anyway, baby boy, wanna sit down and rock out to some AC/DC?”

He seemed to have bounced back from his shame, at least.

“Eh, why not.”

I went to the edge and leaned back, trying to relax again as I had been before Deadpool came along. He, instead of sitting like a normal person, laid down with his head almost in my lap fiddling on his phone. A few moments later “Back in Black” was playing quietly.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I felt almost guilty; of course he would act different around me. I wasn’t Spider-man, I was just some kid he had randomly found on a rooftop at night. It would be nice to banter more with him like Spidey and he did, though.

And he was so… quiet. Well, arguably, he could never be quiet quiet. But when compared to his normal Spider-man interactions… yeah, there was a difference.

Why was that?

I tried to get it out of my mind. This line of thinking would only send me into circles. And it would probably be depressing. So I tried to focus back in on my surroundings.

The quiet music helped.

"Hey, do you think the guy who named Uranus knew what he was doing?" Wade spoke up out of the blue, nearly causing me to jump.

...

You know what, nevermind. Deadpool did whatever he wanted to do. I was in no position to try and figure him out like a puzzle.

Why did I want to so much anyway?

"Uh, I don't know. Probably. Did you see that news article about how Uranus 'opens and closes' or something?" I said conversationally.

He tilted his head weirdly so he was looking up at me from his position lying down. "Now there's some scientists, or at least a journalist-reporter-person, who knows how to have a good time!"

2.

It was a few weeks later as I studied for my finals when there was a loud noise behind me. I was on the roof again, trying to find a quiet place to work on everything but...

When I looked back there was Deadpool, standing with a big paper bag in his hands and his arms outstretched like a gymnast after they've done a trick.

"Baby Boy! What a surprise!" He called gleefully as he came over and sat beside me.

I was definitely surprised: I had thought that meeting a couple weeks back was going to be a one time deal. Apparently not.

I… didn’t mind hanging out with him again?

I put all my stuff down to the right of me as Deadpool came over to my left. I raised my eyebrow, "Baby boy?"

He cooed, "You don't stare in the mirror enough, you’re a one-hundred-percent certified twink!"

I blinked a few times but decided to brush it off, put it in a box and never deal with it. "What have you got in that bag?"

He leaned in closer. "Take a guess."

I hummed. "Chimichangas?"

"You've been talking to Spidey, haven't you!" Oh, had he figured out I was 'Spidey's official photographer?' "Nah, don't tell him but I only like them for their name. It's burgers!"

“Why would I be talking to Spider-man?” I asked, wondering just how much he knew.

“You’re his official photographer for the Daily Bugle. Wouldn’t you talk to him sometimes?”

“I, um, yeah I guess. On occasion.”

Not a lie, really?

He sighed, “Man, I hope we can share a burger in the future.”

Why wouldn’t he just do what he did with me right now and drop in at some random time? Did he think Spidey would judge him or something? I had thought he and Spider-man were close enough that he would feel safe to talk about anything with me. You would think with how much he talked he wouldn't even care about what Spidey thought.

And wow, I was not two separate people: Spidey was me and I was Spidey. Two sides of the same coin or something.

"Earth to Petey-pie?" Wade said sing-songy, waving the hand with the bag in front of my face.

I blinked. Blinked again. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

He chuckled and shook his head like I had told him a joke. I really didn't want to think about if he had been stalking me, so I didn't ask.

After his giggling fest he grabbed out a burger and we both sat down in the same spot as last time. I determinedly stared off into the city while Deadpool talked about everything from politicians and which ones he really wanted to murder but wouldn't, to his favourite duck species.

I listened, but not too hard because I got whiplash from how often topics changed with him around. You think it's serious one minute, then suddenly he’s talking about shoe sizes.

But to be fair he wasn't 'serious' all that often. Maybe once or twice when a big fight had gotten more intense. Other than that, he never was. He seemed more relaxed around Peter me, anyway.

Which was par for the course. Of course the dynamic would change between Spidey and him, and Peter and him.

I didn't want to think about why, but I was hoping that the tension had more to do with stage fright or something. He had said before that Spidey was his idol...

"You know, you're a pretty good listener." Deadpool said after finishing his fifth burger.

I was still on my second, though normally I could be on my tenth by now. I couldn't reveal that I was Spidey, so no bottomless-pit stomachs were allowed right now. Even if it was getting ready to loudly protest that decision.

"... Thanks. It's... you're pretty knowledgeable? I guess? I wouldn't know how to tell an ants gender without you." I stuttered out.

He grinned. "I would have thought you would be more talkative than me."

I frowned, "What? Why?"

He waved a hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it. C'mon, tell me all about whatever project you're doing in college."

"Uh, well it's not all that interesting really compared to some of the other stuff I've done-"

"Baby boy, tell me about those then. I want to get to know you!"

He seemed sincere? Why would he want to get to know me? Should I even worry about his interest in me? Nah, brushing it under the rug and dealing with it later sounded far better.

"Okay, well, um we're focusing on-"

3.

When I went to the laundromat sometime around two or three am one night a week later, I hadn't expected to see a certain masked man fiddling on his phone. Nor did I expect to find him in normal clothes - even if it still covered him from head to toe.

There wasn’t any skintight red and black suit visible, except for his mask. It was the only way I figured out it was him in the first place: Deadpool wasn’t exactly a popular person to cosplay.

I guess that had made me freeze just a bit too long because Deadpool looked up and we both ended up looking like deer in the headlights.

Well, I couldn't be one-hundred percent certain. He was wearing a mask, but he definitely tensed up.

This was awkward.

So, as usual, ignoring the giant pink elephant stampeding around the room and throwing crap up into the fans, I walked over to the furthest corner away from Deadpool.

Which was only thirty feet from where he was sitting.

Honestly, why couldn't the real estate in here be large enough that neither of us had to watch the elephant trumpet around like a bastard?

“You come around these parts often?” Deadpool piped up, making me startle hard enough to fumble the shirt I had been holding. I gave him a glare for good measure.

“Yeah, turns out I’m a broke college student who can’t afford to get an apartment with a laundry room. Who knew?” I said, focusing back on sorting and putting everything into the right washing machines.

“I could fix that!”

“Going to ignore that. Hey, do you have any detergent?” I asked.

A moment later I had to suppress my instincts to whip around and grab the packet out of thin air and instead let it hit my back. I grabbed it before it could hit the floor though and continued to ignore Deadpool.

That wasn’t so successful anymore once I had turned both of my machines on. I had nothing to distract either of us.

Which meant he had no reason not to bother me.

“Pass that quiz?” Deadpool asked, sitting on one of the washing machines so he was hovering uncomfortably behind me and swinging his legs around.

“Yep.”

“Score?”

“Um, ninety-seven.”

“Cool, cool. Did you know that I never went to college?”

“Not surprised.”

He made an interested noise when I grabbed out a large textbook from my bag. Before he could ask I explained, “It’s just on chemistry.”

“Ah, my little nerd, if only you had glasses.” He sighed dreamily.

“Yeah, yeah, woe is you. Why are you even here if you’re rich?” I asked absently.

He stiffened and I raised an eyebrow. “...Reasons?” He finally said.

“Mhm, hope you’re not planning on killing me or something because I won’t look forward to washing the blood out.”

“Of your clothes or mine?” He said cheekly.

“Nah, the janitor’s clothes.”

He broke out into loud laughter and I realised I was smiling along with him. “Baby boy! Who knew you were this witty?”

“Your mom did.”

He stopped and turned to stare at me, “Seriously? Your mom jokes?”

I shrugged, “I’m running out of material, it’s like three am right now I’m too tired for this.”

He paused, muttered something under his breath before he seemed to make a decision. He stood up with a determined stride and picked me up bridal-style.

“Wha- hey!” I protested, freezing up too much to push myself out of his arms.

“Don’t worry, Baby Boy! You’re going home right now!” He proclaimed.

I tried to look over his shoulder as he began to walk out of the place. “Wait! What about my clothes?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with them. They’ll be beside your bed when you wake up!”

I tried not to think too hard about if there was a Spider-man suit amongst my washing, and forced myself to just try and accept what was happening. This was Deadpool after all… but I still wasn’t quite sure why it had been so easy to give in.

I decided to blame it on not having to do any more work for the night.

4.

At this point, I wasn't sure why I was surprised.

I had been running towards the villain of the day, camera swinging wildly with each step, when something tugged me back, hoisted me up into the air and over a shoulder, and began running away from the battle with me.

I looked down to see a familiar red clad ass - wait maybe I shouldn't know it well enough to know who it was at a glance. Deadpool was carrying me fireman-style to safety.

Uh, well then.

"Deadpool, what are you doing?" I asked in a calm voice that definitely didn't match my brain that had more or less gone into a blue screen of death.

"Can't let my little daredevil get hurt!" He said cheerfully.

"Believe it or not I don't wear a red skin tight suit with horns," I quipped and he snorted. "Now can we go back? I kinda need money from the pictures so I can eat."

"Don't worry about that, I'll feed you," he said, way too finally for me.

Hi, blue screen of death, did you bring your friend denial along with you?

I shook myself out of my shock. “What if I want to feed myself?”

“Well then I’ll supply the money. It’s pretty simple really!” He exclaimed.

I took a moment, paused, processed, and then facepalmed. “You want to be my sugar daddy or something?”

“I thought I wasn’t being subtle enough, really!”

I drowned out of the rest of what he said, instead just focusing on not thinking about how my suit might be showing because my shirt was definitely riding up on me.

Honestly, why was my life like this?

I never ended up getting to the fight, cause apparently Deadpool knew me well enough by now to lock everything up in the bathroom he chucked me in and I did not feel like breaking public property that day.

+1

At this point I didn’t know why I did half the things I did.

I was still Spider-man after all these years even though it had left me dirt poor and closer to death more times than anyone except other superheroes had ever been.

So I didn’t know why I was on the same roof I meet Deadpool the first and second time.

And I didn’t know why I was in my Spider-man suit.

And I especially didn’t know why I had decided to come clean to him about Peter being me and Spiderman being me.

It was loneliness and a longing to actually confide in someone who couldn’t die.

Everyone who knew died.

But if he couldn’t…

Life would probably find another way to do it.

I would just hope that he wasn’t just joking around when he gave me food and helped me with washing. I really missed having friends in my life.

I idly swung my legs as I sat in “Peter’s” usual spot. I would probably have my best chance at finding him here, because surprisingly enough, mercenaries tended to be hard to find if they didn’t want to be found.

A part of me wanted to endlessly fret over telling him, but mostly I felt numb. Resigned to my choice the same way I was with being Spider-man.

Logically, yes, I could put down the suit at any time and build my way up on an easier path. But that wasn’t me: I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing that there might be a person getting shot to death because I wasn’t there.

And this decision was just like that. When I saw him, I would tell him.

He might abandon me, he might fangirl, he might do any number of things. I was prepared for it.

Probably.

An hour later after, surprisingly, I hadn’t had to save anyone, there was a thump behind me. I glanced back and spotted Deadpool standing there frozen, a paper bag in his hands.

“Hey,” I said softly, maybe too quietly.

If he noticed my nerves he did not comment.

“Spidey? What are you doing here?” He asked, slowly approaching me as if he was giving himself time to size me up.

“Hanging out. The usual. Actually I wanted to talk to you.” I quickly said before I could hesitate.

He swooned dramatically, “Lil’ ol’ me? Oh my!”

I rolled my eyes at his antics. “It’s… something important.”

That made him sober up and come sit down next to me. “You know I’ll help you with anything, right Spidey?”

“Yep.” And that was true. He had proven to me more than once that he was willing to listen and act when I asked. I couldn’t really see why everyone seemed to hate him so much.

I rubbed at the back of my neck, fingers catching on the mask.

“Um… if I… told you my identity, would you keep it a secret?” I said quietly.

He sighed. “Yes I would, Peter.”

…

“Wha-”

“For a superhero as famous as you are, you really suck at keeping it a secret.”

“But-- you-- I--”

He smirked. “You shouldn’t do your laundry at a laundromat, some people, like me, might just see some red and blue and connect the dots.”

I buried my head in my hands, “I’m a horrible superhero.”

“Nah, you’re just a dork. A cute dork. A broke dork. One who should move in with me and let me help him up onto his feet.” He said, and even through the mask I could tell he was smiling.

I sighed in defeat. “I give up. Sure, why not.”

Let’s just say someone a few streets over yelled at us because of how loud he squealed.

#story #marvel #spiderman #deadpool #peter parker #wade wilson #writing #4 + 1 #Secret Identity #secret identity fail #Spideypool prompt bang 2018

[rilesandlucas]

Living for a minute

a/n soooooooo my Rory and Logan one shot got a lot of love and a couple of requests for more, so what better to do than write another one. I’ve been stuck for ideas for a while anyway and so I’m kind of taking the easy way out.

s5e7-you jump I jump jack. All credits to right full owners-Gilmore Girls and Warner Bros. Studio.

Riley stashed her notebook in her bag and looked around not really knowing what to do. She was all packed and ready to go, she just had no idea where it is she was going. Riley had been destined to be a reporter since she was younger, It’s all she had ever talked about around the house and to be honest it made her parents go insane. In saying that, it was her passion and when Riley Matthews had her mind set on something there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop her, well nothing short of distracting her with pie.

Today she was doing a story on one of the secret society’s of her university. It was called “The Death and Life Brigade” and what she could tell from reading about it is that it was basically rich people waving their hand at old films that make no sense.

She walked outside her tiny dorm, hoping to find some sort of clue out there. Riley turned her head to the left and just as she was about to turn her head to the right she suddenly couldn’t see anymore and she was being dragged away. Realising that this was probably just a part of their stupid game Riley calmed and went with it. After about a 3 minute walk Riley was being helped into what she could only assume was a car, but wouldn’t be surprised if it was a helicopter or plane of some sort. The people that were around her suddenly started talking and it took Riley less than two minutes to work out who they were. Driving was Isaiah Babineaux, a drunk rich person from Australia. In the back seat was Farkle Minkus, another drunk tool, In the front seat was a girl she didn’t know and next to her, holding her, was none other than her frenemie Lucas Friar, the most spoiled of all spoiled.

Riley butted into their conversation quickly getting lonely.

‘Farkle the 31 is the better highway.’ She settled and both the boys flipped there head to the supposedly blindfolded girl.

'Lucas we told you that the blindfold wasn’t good, she can see.’ Zay yelled from the front seat and Lucas rolled his eyes.

'No I just know your voices, expect for hers.’ Riley inquired to the girl in the front seat.

'I’ve been told we’ve met before.’ The girl responded and it clicked in Riley’s brain.

'Ahhh Gorilla mask I see.’ The girl was someone that Riley had ran into in the bathroom, she was wearing a ball gown and gorilla mask which prompted Riley to follow her outside. This sparked the whole article Riley was writing.

'Or Maya to few.’ The girl responded and Riley smiled slightly.

'Can I take the blindfold off now that I know who everyone is.’ Riley asked and everyone shook their heads, forgetting that she had a gorilla mask on.

'No, you have to remember ace that we also hiding our location. ’ Lucas spoke and Riley threw her arms to her chest and listened in to the bickering of Farkle and Zay.

—————————————————————————

Riley was finally out of the car after what felt like forever and she couldn’t be happier. She could only deal with so much bickering and RnB. As Riley was being guided she realised that she could smell trees and the outdoors. She could only assume that she was at a campsite of some sort, considering that she didn’t even anticipate a hotel around.

'Can I take this thing off.’ Riley asked agitated. Lucas chuckled to himself and held her slightly tighter.

'Almost ace, very soon.’ Lucas patronised and continued to lead Riley through the several tree stumps.

Finally Lucas saw the check in point and picked up to of the candles for him and Riley.

'You can take your blindfold off now.’ He said and Riley smiled as she pulled off the silk fabric from her face. She was instantly handed a glowing candle in a olden times candle holder. Riley smiled at the cute knick knack and looked around at the scene in front of her.

'Oh my.’ She said.

Everything was white, white clothes, white table cloths, white hats, white ribbon hung from the trees and white tents scattered around. There was enough food to feed all of yale and it was all gourmet, of course. The people were conversing normally, some near a fire and some near the food. Everyone seemed to have a champagne glass in there hand and everything confused Riley deeply. She pulled out her notepad and started scribbling down her notes on her notebook. Once Riley was done filling out her basic and first impressions on the event she  saw Lucas signalling here. She walked over to him and he pointed her in the direction of a tent.

'This one is yours.’ he said bringing her over to the tent. 'Festivities start in a half hour.’ He finished before leaving Riley to gather her thoughts.

—————————–

Riley left her tent in prompt time and walked out into old music playing and people eating by candlebras in their old timey clothes. People walked by here and would say things in an old fashioned voice but whenever she would try ask them anything about the event they would leave.

She walked over to a group of guys that seemed to be having a debate about something.

'Dubious logic if you ask this guy.’ One of the men said as Riley approached them.

'Hello everybody.’ Riley said approaching the group. All men suddenly snapped their heads to her.

'My god.’ Farkle gasped.

'Shocking little girl. Addressing to this proud point of ours.’ The man next to him added on.

'Excuse me, what did you just say?’ Riley asked humbly but the men seemed to ignore her.

'For my count is 6 I say.’ Farkle asked turning to the man beside him.

'Six, I do conquer.’  The boy responded and Farkle nodded and his head and proceeded to speak.

'Point of fact, daft lady, to catch on would prompt our congratulations.’ He said diminishing Riley.

'It’s a game?’ Riley asked and the taller man raised his glass and said.

'At which you totally fail.’ Riley furrowed her brows and Farkle yet again spoke.

'You want for instruction?’

'Indeed.’ Riley replied eagerly.

'Said gap between e and f should not slip from lips in any word this group allows.’ He responded and Riley thought for a moment before understanding.

'The gap between d and f, you’re not using the letter E?’ Riley confirmed and Farkle rolled his eyes.

'Says this thing our group did banish. He reponded.

'Loud for all to drink in.’ The usually silent boy spoke.

'Daft girl.’ The boy next to Farkle added on.

'So no one is supposed to say the letter E.’ Riley asked yet again , causing the boys to once again roll their eyes.

'My god, this women hounds us with this thing I banish.’ Farkle barked sipping his champagne.

'I’ll catch up with you guys later, have fun.’ Riley responded and walked off.

'Bloody horror that women.’ One of the boys said as she walked off.

Riley walked around the campsite and spotted a familiar face at one of the tables.

'Hey Maya.’ She greeted walking over to the blonde.

'Oh good someone who is using e’s, you want champagne.’ She praised and Riley smiled.

'No I’ll have a little later.’ Riley responded and Maya shrugged her shoulders and sipped hers down.

'Does Lucas run this group.’ Riley asked pointing to the blonde haired boy behind her chatting to two girls at a fire.

'There’s no head of the group. We’re an anarchy collective we don’t have leaders per say, but that’s a secret, I shouldn’t be talking to you.’ Maya whispered and went to turn away.

'The way that people act around him Lucas seems like a leader.’ Riley backed herself up and Riley looked over at the boy.

'That’s because he’s cute, you know that.’ Maya answered.

'No-'Riley started but was cut off.

'No?’ Maya questioned.

'Well I guess but-’

'There’s a line to get to him.’ Stephanie cut her off.

'No I don’t want to get into line. I’m trying to be a reporter.’ Riley recovered.

'I bet you’re a good reporter. I shouldn’t be talking to you. I have to die now, excuse me.’ Maya finished and walked off leaving Riley dumbfounded.

Riley gained her confidence again and walked over to another group.

'Hi’ She started, trying avoid e’s. All the men snapped their heads at her once again.

'Do you always have a theme or do you choose different themes.’ She asked politely.

'May I quote Max Ernst.’ A boy with glasses responded.

'Yes.’ Riley encouraged and all the boys turned away from Riley.

'Oh.’

——————————–

Riley was sitting under a tree writing everything she could down on a note pad when in her peripheral vision she saw Lucas Friar walking towards her.

'How goes it.’ He yells walking down the hill with a plate of food and a light.

'Word goes a bear had dragged you off he finished and Riley smiled.

'No bear, just collecting my thoughts.’ Riley responded and Lucas sat down next to her.

'Sorry the groups not giving you much, took a lot to even get you out here.’ Lucas offered and Riley smiled at him.

'It’s ok, I’ve already filled two notebooks without them. Half without using the letter e.’ Riley boasted to the frat boy.

'This has way too much salt.’ Lucas stated completely avoiding the topic.

'This is pretty cool but it’s just a pre party before the big stunt tomorrow.’ Riley continued to ask/ state to the eating male.

'It’s Zay, he’s Australian, they like salt.’ He responded avoiding her question.

'How do you guys pay for this? How is it organised and what is happening tomorrow, is it bigger?’ Riley bombarded to Logan, who put down his fork and really looked at her.

'Ok, I think it’s time to fill you in on the conditions of you being here.’ He replied moving himself to look at her even better.

'First no pictures.’ Lucas said taking her camera.

'You’ll get it back, second no names.’ Lucas said firmly.

'I’m not exactly getting them.’ Riley confirmed.

'Third no descriptions, some police are after us for bad stuff we did years ago.’ Lucas asked and Riley nodded.

'What number am I at?’ He asked staring deeply into her eyes.

'Four.’

'Fourth no saying our location.’

'I don’t know where we are.’ Riley yelled and Lucas laughed.

'Fifth.’ He emphasised.

'You’re gonna run out of “ths”’ Riley joked.

'You must not interfere with the integrity of the event.’ Logan finished and Riley waved her hands, because she had no idea what the integrity of the flipping event was.

'So you agree.’ Lucas asked smiling and Riley looked down at her hands.

'Yes, I agree.’ Riley responded. Suddenly they could both hear people singing at the campsite not to far from them.

'It’s pretty.’ Riley commented.

'They’re drunk.’ Lucas nonchalantly replied stuffing down his food.

'I like it.’ Riley defended and Lucas shook his head.

'I didn’t say I didn’t like it.’ Lucas said before spotting two girls.

'Night ace.’ He spoke before going up the hill and away again.

——————————-

Riley awoke from her slumber and pulled on her clothes from yesterday before leaving the tent and seeing Lucas standing there.

'Uh those clothes will interfere with the integrity of the event.’ Lucas replied as Riley walked out.

'This is all I have, I didn’t know about this event.’ Riley growled and Lucas shrugged.

'Check your tent.’ He calmly responded.

'All I have is a wash bowl, a toothbrush and a light.’ Riley replied her eyebrows raised.

'Check your tent.’ Lucas spoke once again and Riley stomped back into her tent. She looked around and then finally got on her knees and looked under her bed. She pulled out the white box with a bow on top and opened it to reveal a pale blue ball gown. Quickly changing Riley put on the dress, only occasionally falling over in the small space. Once she was down she smoothed out the skirt and looked down at it. It was all pale blue with a spot of dark blue roses at the bottom and the top. The strapless bodice was cut off above the hips by a light blue sash of the same material. The skirt fell into the loveliest shape with slight ruffles at the end. Attached to the top was a dark blue scarf the Riley pulled behind her neck.

Riley emerged from the tent smiling and Lucas smiled.

'Yep I have a knack for dress sizes, now lets go we’re late.’ He spoke and grabbed Riley’s hand and lead her. After about 30 seconds of running Riley saw the group all gathered in front of what seemed like a circus facing Farkle.

'Come on hurry.’ Lucas called walking closer to the group.

'You try running in this dress.’ Riley retorted.

'We’re late.'Lucas rushed

'For what the ritual sacrifice.’ Riley joked.

Upon arrival Riley and Lucas were handed champagne glasses which the rest of the group were already holding.    

’-Gathered for the 108th annual ceremony of the death and life bridage.’ Farkle spoke as he held his glass high.

'He’s using e’s’ Riley joked as Lucas shushed her.

'Raise your glasses.’ Farkle commanded and everyone followed suit.

'In Omnia Paratus.’ Farkle chanted.

'In Omnia Paratus.’ The group if girls in ball gowns and well suited men responded easily and turned to face a person of the opposite gender. Riley turned to face Lucas and he put his champagne glass to her lips prompting her to do the same thing. Riley followed and watched all the dressed up members do the same.

'Cover your ears.’ Lucas suggested and Riley furrowed her brows.

'Why?’ She asked just as a loud gong went off behind her.

'That’s why.’ Lucas spoke as the whole group ran off screaming to the event behind her.

'And to think some groups just go bowling.’ Lucas finished and Riley laughed to herself looking at the packed paddock.

—————————–

In what felt like second the party was in full swing. Riley walked through what was made into a makeshift polo game. Two men would hold a carrier like horses as the women sat in it with a polo stick pushing the balls around what Riley assumed was a sport. Riley quickly took every detail down, almost getting hit ten times. She walked over to the other event that was happening nearby. From what she could tell, the male with a paint-gun would yell “pull” and another male would jump from a platform onto a mat as other men shot at him.

It was interesting and rather gruesome idea that intrigued Riley as she walked over.

'Good shot.’ One of the boys yelled at the shooter.

'Is this safe.’ Riley asked and all three boys stopped smoking their pipes and responding

'no.’ before continuing.

'Damn.’ the shooter said and the boys next to him responded with 'Blame the gun.’ and 'I would.’

Riley quickly grew tired of them and walked over to Lucas and Zay who was shooting.

'Pull, pull.’ He yelled nonchalantly like he done this one hundred times before. Lucas watched intensely as Zay put the gun down and said

'Ok I want to be a target now.’ Before walking off.

'If you wanna interview Zay ace you better do it quick. Lucas said as Zay walked off saying 'In Omnia Paratus’

'So is this your big stunt.’ Riley questioned Lucas as he shot at flying men.

'Big stunt?’ He feigned ignorance but Riley over looked it.

'According to my research you do one big stunt at each of these.’ Riley peeped lookign voer her notes.

'You’ll know it when you see it.’ Was all Lucas had in response.

Just as he finished Zay was carried by on a stretcher moaning in pain.

'I missed the mat.’ He whispered and Lucas rolled his eyes.

'Again?’ He laughed.

'I’ll be fine, don’t worry about em.’ Zay yelled while being carried off into the distance.

————————————–

The group started to stop their activities and started to gather in a particular place. Riley followed them and almost fell over when she saw an almost seven story construction of scaffolding with the death and life brigade crest hanging on a banner on top. On the top of the scaffolding was what Rory made out as people in suits and ballgowns, presumably from the group, holding onto umbrellas that had some wire stemming from it. Riley looked up in awe as the other chatted as if nothing was happening.

'Taking up superlatives.’ Lucas spoke as he walked past Riley.

'What are they gonna do.’ Riley asked running after him.

'What do you think they’re gonna do.’ He responded over riding  her question.

'They’re not gonna jump.’ Riley stated not believing herself.

'Of course they gonna jump.’ Lucas happily yelled back.

'But that’s like seven stories, they could die.’ Riley responded frantically.

'We’re all gonna die one day.’ Lucas said casually.

'But those four are gonna die today.’ Riley yelled in awe as Lucas laughed at her.

'Six.’

'But I only see 4.’ Riley pointed.

'I’m heading up.’ Lucas smiled.

'Of course you are.’ Riley remarked.

'And Zay was supposed to do it, but few of us figured he’d make it this far. So there’s an extra space.’ Lucas spoke hoping Riley would catch on. Riley hmmed and looked around for a moment before looking at Lucas in fear.

'No.’ She said quickly.

'Hey we’re not gonna die, no one in the Death and Life brigade had ever died, old ones have.’ Lucas soothed her but Riley still stressed.

'I am not going to jump.’ Riley said with her hand over her heart. A man walked up behind Lucas and told him that everything was set.

'This is Seth, he’s the genius behind this.’ Logan introduced and the sharp man named Seth waved.

'it’s very safe, we did a dozen test drops and every potato came through fine.’ Seth assured and Riley looked at him like he was crazy.

'Potato?’ She gaped.

'We can’t test on humans that’s not safe.’ Lucas joked as Seth ran off.

'Thanks, but I’m here as a journalists, journalists don’t participate.’ Riley replied and regretted it.

'George Plimpton never participated? His best was in the thick of it, quarterbacking for the Lions.’ Lucas started and Riley interrupted.

'So he was an exception.’

'Bill Buford lived in amongst the thugs, Hunter Thompson lived with the Hells Angels he got into the thick of it and he put you in their heads, that’s what drove him.’ Lucas lectured and Riley was dumbfounded.

'Ok so those guys participated but I-’ Riley stressed but was interrupted by Farkle telling jumpers to go their places.

'You’re scared.’ Lucas stated.

'Well yeah.’ Riley mumbled.

'And that stops the greats.’ Lucas inspired.

'It stops this great.’ Riley sarcastically replied.

'Come on you look like you need adventure, you’re a little sheltered.’ Lucas spoke honestly and Riley didn’t know what to think.

'It’ll be fun, it’ll be stupid, it’ll be something sun for you. Isn’t this the point of being young.’ Lucas continued moving to hold Riley’s back.

'It’s your choice. People can live a hundred years without really living for a minute, you climb up there with me it’s one less minute you haven’t lived.’ Lucas spoke into Riley’s ear as she contemplated things.

'Let’s go.’ She finally said.

'Let’s go.’ Lucas yelled excitedly and led Riley to the ladder.

'I am not a fan of ladders.’ Riley complained.

'I’m not a fan either.’ Lucas responded as he climbed up behind her.

Once they reached the top Riley looked down stressed.

'High this is very high.’ Riley mumbled.

'I’ve been higher.’ Lucas responded.

'I meant distance from the ground.’ Riley joked.

'That too.’ Logan responded.

Riley walked over to Seth and he assured it was safe while adding a gold ribbon that went with her outfit. She took the umbrella she was handed and looked over at the calm Lucas.

'In Omnia Paratus.’ Farkle yelled from the back.

'Why do they look so worried.’ Riley asked.

'We’re low on champagne.’ Lucas responded.

'You trust me.’ Lucas asked.’

'You jump, I jump jack.’ Riley responded.

'In Omnia Paratus.’ The rest of the group from the ground yelled.

'I should’ve confirmed those potatoes were ok.’ Logan said before grabbing Riley’s hand and jumping.

The wind carried the group perfectly as the crowd cheered. Seth and Farkle gleamed as the whole group made it down perfectly fine. Lucas kept a hold of Riley’s hand as he looked at her.

'You did good ace.’ He beamed looking into her eyes.

'A once in a lifetime experience.’ She cheered smiling at him.

'Only if you want it to be.’ He replied still looking at her.

————————————

The next day just as Riley was about tot head to class she heard a knock on the door. She opened it to see that no one was there, looking down she saw a bottle of champagne, her camera and a gorilla mask. She opened up her camera roll to see several pictures of her and Lucas jumping and smiled to herself.

#rileymatthews #riley matthews #riley and lucas #riley x lucas #lucas friar #Rucas #rucas fanfic #rucas fanfiction #rucas one shot #rucas oneshot #rucasficweek2017 #rory and logan #rory gilmore #logan huntzberger #life and death brigade #you jump i jump jack #s5 e7

[pixelgrotto]

Episodic Dark Knight I plowed my way through all five episodes of Batman - The Telltale Series over the weekend, and last night I played the first episode of season 2, The Enemy Within. And I had a really great time. I’m not one to “binge” TV shows, since I would rather read or play video games than watch much stuff on TV. (This includes that Batman-related prequel show Gotham, which I consider to be a huge waste of potential.) But I could binge these Batman Telltale episodes all day, and I’m currently wishing that this series goes on forever, eventually bringing us Robin, Nightwing, Red Hood, Batgirl, Batwoman, Ace the Bat Hound and all the other craziness that exists within Batman’s extended universe. (I don’t think it’ll happen, but I can hope.)

I put off playing Telltale’s take on Batman for a while, since I wanted to wait until all of the episodes had been released. Also, while I’d heard a lot of praise over the years regarding Telltale’s efforts to revitalize the adventure game genre, I’d heard some mixed stuff as well. Their games tended to be buggy and were filled with Quicktime Events, and Telltale’s famous “illusion of choice” was supposedly becoming more and more iffy with each new series. Also, Batman - The Telltale Series was supposed to be another story set in the beginning days of Batman’s’ crimefighting career, and if there’s anything more overdone than the trope of Bats being a tortured, obsessive loner who’s a dick to everyone (see: Batman v Superman and pretty much all of Frank Miller’s recent writing), it’s Year One stories. (Hm, stories that fetishize the Joker might be up there too.) So yeah, I wasn’t in a hurry to play this. But goshdarnit, now that I have, I’m happy to report that despite frame rate drops and silly Quicktime Events, Telltale’s version of Bats might just be the best non-comic book interpretation since Batman: The Animated Series. 

The reason I liked it so much is probably because it shows a Batman who’s heroic rather than an overaggressive bruiser (once again, see Batman v Superman). Don’t get me wrong - if you wanna play through the whole thing like the Goddamn Batman, then you can do that by breaking more bones and being gruff to your allies. But even if you go down this route, the story still tends to portray Bats as more of a noble, willing-to-work-with-others Caped Crusader, kinda like the version established by classic creators like Denny O’Neil and carried on by modern comic book dudes like Grant Morrison and Scott Snyder. This is the Batman that I consider definitive, and it was satisfying to see it finally portrayed in a video game, because the other major games starring Bats - Rocksteady’s Arkham ones - have never done a great job at making the Dark Knight particularly interesting, with one notable exception that I’ll get to in a minute. Sure, they have gameplay far more elaborate than anything in Telltale’s episodes, and I consider playing Arkham City for the first time to have been one of my top ten most impactful gaming experiences. But the Arkham titles always had lousy stories, perhaps even moreso if you’re someone like me who’s read a fair share of comics. Paul Dini might have written the first two Arkhams and pulled off a Clayface twist in City, but he’s capable of much better, trust me. And if you wanna know how I feel about Arkham Knight’s plot, well, you should read what I wrote about it two years ago. 

Going back to Batman, though, in the Arkham games, the Dark Knight was frequently portrayed as a nearly emotionless dude. He’s stone-cold throughout Asylum, City and Knight and so focused on “protecting” the people around him that he intentionally drives them away, completely falling into the “tortured, obsessive loner” trope that I previously mentioned. Some people like this, but I find it such a lazy way of writing the character. It’s easy to script a stoic rock who has no friends. It’s much harder to write a nuanced person who balances light and dark and is actually a hero, which is why I really liked how Batman was portrayed in Arkham Origins, which I know is the unpopular, developed-by-another-company black sheep of the franchise. But its technical issues aside, Origins had the best boss battles in the series and also showed the most human Bruce Wayne, making him into a dude who actually wishes a Merry Christmas to his butler over his radio comm. The game’s plot, while revolving around the Joker and existing in that overused Year One setting, managed to also break stereotypes by offering new looks at underutilized bad guys, as well as a take on Batman’s relationship with the Clown Prince of Crime that ended up being more nuanced than any of Rocksteady’s efforts. (Oh, and it had the best version of Bane, who is treated atrociously in the other Arkham games.)  Batman - The Telltale Series follows in these footsteps by also doing something new, remixing established Batman players like Vicki Vale, the Penguin and Two-Face in ways that are downright surprising. Without spoiling anything, a lot of these characters end up subverting the expectations that have been built up for them after countless media portrayals and stories in 70+ years of comics, and that’s grand, both for the newbie and the longtime Batman geek like me. And the other characters who act in a more expected manner - like Catwoman, for instance - end up being very well written. (It’s worth reading this article from The Mary Sue on how Catwoman’s portrayal in Telltale’s series is leagues ahead of most other stuff she’s been in lately.) Finally, just like in Arkham Origins, Telltale is interested in showing a relatable man under the Batman mask rather than an emotionless rock, which means that the sections where you play as Bruce might even be more interesting than the ones played as his alter ego.

It’s worth noting that not everyone was quite as enthralled as the first season of Batman as I was. A look at Steam reviews seems to indicate that most liked it, but several say it isn’t as good as other Telltale efforts like Tales from the Borderlands or The Walking Dead. I can’t speak on that, since this is my first Telltale game. But judging this effort solely on the premise of delivering a good Batman story, I think that my expectations were blown out of the water, and even though Arkham Knight’s tagline was “Be The Batman,” I felt more Batman-ish after 10 hours of Telltale investigation than I did after 60 hours of driving the Batmobile around and hunting for Riddler trophies. 

Make of that what you will. Ultimately, I’m glad that my favorite comic book hero is making moves in the 2017 adventure game space, and I had a good enough time that I am very, very eager for more. Judging from the first (stellar) episode of Batman: The Enemy Within, it looks like Telltale’s gonna keep delivering, and I’m totally down to see how they continue to develop Batman’s relationship with “John Doe.” (They made the Joker feel fresh again. Would ya believe that?)

Screenshot and concept art courtesy of Telltale Games. There’s some more cool behind-the-scenes art visible here. 

#pixel grotto #now playing #video games #batman #batman the telltale series #batman telltale #arkham #batman arkham

[celebritylive]

We promise that you’ll never find an icon like Taylor Swift!

The “ME!” singer was awarded the inaugural Icon Award at the 2019 Teen Choice Awards.

“Okay, we have a lot to talk about,” began Swift after accepting her surfboard from World Cup champion Alex Morgan, whom Swift praised for taking a stand against the gender pay gap along with Morgan’s teammates on the U.S. Soccer Women’s National Team.

The 29-year-old singer was handed a personalized and bedazzled surfboard, emblazoned with the star’s three cats, Olivia Benson, Meredith Grey and Benjamin Button.

“These are my furry children, and this is a really proud moment for me that they are on a Teen Choice surfboard,” she said. “Aesthetically speaking, this might be my favorite award.”

Swift went on to thank her fans, calling them the “most amazing, generous people,” before sharing words of wisdom to guide teenagers.

“One thing I wish I would have known when I was a teen is mistakes are inevitable,” she said.

“You think you can possibly ace life, but it’s normal to make mistakes… it’s normal,” she added. “That’s what’s going to happen in life.”

Swift saved a big surprise for the end of her speech, telling viewers that there’s “so much to be excited about in the next 12 days” — and that includes her new single, “Lover,” which she said debuts on Friday, Aug. 16.

RELATED: Teen Choice Awards 2019: See the Complete List of Nominees and Winners

  For her big moment in the spotlight, Swift wore a bright Versace bodysuit with matching shorts and a blazer, Kat Maconie shoes, Misahara earrings and rings by Irene Neuwirth, VRAM and Emily P. Wheeler.

Fox announced that the singer would be receiving the award last month, calling the artist “a pop culture icon whose accolades and achievements go beyond topping music charts and selling out stadiums worldwide.”

“Swift is also one of today’s biggest social influencers, using her voice and platform to inspire and create positive change,” the statement added.

Fans got a look of the star’s new accolade last week, thanks to a report by Hermosa Beach — where the awards show is being held — local newspaper The Beach Reporter.

| Taylor Swift’s Icon Award surfboard that she will receive at the 2019 @TeenChoiceFOX Awards

pic.twitter.com/2T5DN7XjmF

— Taylor Swift News (@TSwiftNZ) August 7, 2019

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

“She is going to be obsessed!” one fan tweeted about the surfboard.

“She Is going to love this sooo much!” another fan chimed in.

Swift is set to release her seventh studio album, Lover, later this month and has already given fans the album’s first three singles.

Leading up to the Teen Choice Awards, Swift gave lucky fans in London, Nashville and Los Angeles a sneak peek of Lover during her secret sessions.

“When you think Taylor Swift, I hope you think of me,” one fan tweeted a photo alongside Swift. “Your genuine excitement, support, & love is everything to me.”

When you think Taylor Swift, I hope you think of me

#swiftiesince2003 #LoverSecretSessions

Your genuine excitement, support, & love is everything to me. I’ve been resting & sharing my experience with my family today, but I’m going to do my best to respond to everyone soon! pic.twitter.com/AQ0O1Gf0b2

— Holly Armstrong (@HollyArmstr0ng) August 6, 2019

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

my one and only, my lifeline

pic.twitter.com/iWaZhPVQjp

— brooke

(@mvrvelcomics) August 7, 2019

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

I wanna stay right here, in this moment now, capture it, remember it.

Thank you for everything, Taylor. #LoverSecretSessions @taylorswift13 @taylornation13 pic.twitter.com/Fb1TCnIZ9N

— yuki MET TAYLOR SWIFT (@yukitheswiftie) August 7, 2019

https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Last month, Swift shared “The Archer,” off her upcoming album, a track she called “emotional and vulnerable and personal” on an Instagram Live.

Swift said that the four special editions of her upcoming album will include 120 pages of diary pages she has written throughout her life.

“I found some crazy stuff in there. I found the original lyrics of ‘All Too Well,’ which I didn’t even know that I had in my diaries,” she said. “It’s everything from being 13 and coming home from a bad day at school to Grammy night to processing my life as a teenager.”

Swift will continue gracing awards show red carpets this month with the MTV Video Music Awards. She’s nominated for 10 awards and is also set to share a “world premiere performance” onstage, according to MTV.

RELATED ARTICLE: Taylor Swift to Perform at the 2019 MTV Video Music Awards

The singer is also starring in the upcoming movie-musical Cats, slated for release this December.

Lover is set for release on Aug. 23. The 2019 Teen Choice Awards are airing now on Fox.

from PEOPLE.com https://ift.tt/2MWzgkg

#Celebrity

[hairterminator]

http://blog.hair-terminator.com/uncategorized/

I Let My Girlfriend Pick Out My Wardrobe

#http://blog.hair-terminator.com Here"s What Happens When You Let Your Girlfriend Dress You For A Week March 22, 2017 Share Tweet I should put it out there that I’m not a bad dresser. At least, I don’t think I am? I will, however, admit that I dressed terribly from birth until, like,

#http://blog.hair-terminator.com

Here"s What Happens When You Let Your Girlfriend Dress You For A Week

March 22, 2017

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I should put it out there that I’m not a bad dresser. At least, I don’t think I am? I will, however, admit that I dressed terribly from birth until, like, five years ago. Seriously, not a day would go by where I wouldn’t drape myself in some kind of godawful, oversized plaid number. Because of this, I’ve learned to seriously tone down my wardrobe and dress in colors (and sizes) that actually don’t make me look like the bottom half of a Scottish dude.

So, at almost thirty, I’d like to believe that I’ve got this whole fashion thing relatively down, so when the idea came up to let my arguably-more-fashionable girlfriend choose my outfit for a week, I thought: Sure. What could possibly go wrong?   While I’m proud to report that I didn’t die or get sucked into some kind of fabric-lined black hole, I will say that the results were surprising. Surprising because I:

a) Ended up feeling very confident about the clothes that were chosen for me

b) Started questioning whether or not I was, in fact, the fashion icon I assumed I was.

Here’s what happened.

Monday

Monday was cold and cloudy — plus, as I just mentioned, it was f*cking Monday. I typically take the day after the weekend to dress well, you know, as a kind of “I’m back from staying inside all weekend and this is what I’ve been up to!”   What I would’ve worn   During this tumultuous and experimental week, I decided to log what I was going to wear and compare it with the clothes my darling partner chose for me. On Monday, I decided I would’ve gone with a perfectly drab Uniqlo-heavy outfit. Blue oxford shirt, grey cashmere v-neck, and dark skinny jeans from Topman. Easy.   What she chose   I also decided to keep my outfits a secret to see how much overlap there was with her choices. Monday proved to have minimal overlapping, as she chose Topman skinnies (I have a half dozen of these), a white t-shirt, and this Yosemite Valley View Fleece Sweatshirt that I got a few months back. I hadn’t worn this in quite some time because it was stuffed in the back of my closet, but she chose it on the grounds that it “made my arms look nice.” She finished the outfit with my Henry London watch and a pair of Nikes that I probably would’ve overlooked for a pair of boots. I liked Monday’s outfit — it made me feel like a buff mountain man.

Yosemite Valley View Fleece, $60.00 at ParksProject.us

Henry London Knightsbridge Watch, $135.00 at Henry-London.com

Nike SB Zoom Stefan Janoski, $85.00 at Zappos.com

Tuesday

Tuesday came along as effortlessly as Monday and presented the same kind of dreary weather. It’s hard dressing well when it’s cruddy out, because there’s just so much layering.

What I would’ve worn   Coming off the success of Monday’s sweatshirt, I decided I was in the mood to keep it going. I was planning on this gingham Jaspe shirt from J. Crew that I always thought was too big for me and a ribbed grey cardigan from Uniqlo over it. But my girlfriend had a different idea of what the day was going to look like.

J.Crew Jaspé Cotton Shirt, $69.50 at JCrew.com

UNIQLO Milano Ribbed V-Neck, $29.90 at Uniqlo.com

  What she chose   My Mack Weldon French Terry crew with dark blue Levi’s. Nailed it. Honestly, Mack Weldon’s stuff is new-ish to me, but I’m loving their stuff more and more every day. The crew is a perfect fit and can be worn on both warm and cold days… provided you layer correctly. On warmer days, I wear it without anything over it and am happy as a clam. I also own this in a darker blue color that makes me feel like a real intellectual — I can’t really explain why.   Now, the creme de la creme came with the addition of the Original Quarter Century Jacket. I’ve always loved this jacket, because it fits wonderfully and is incredibly warm without turning my body into a furnace. I love the cut and the material — this thing could get through a hurricane. The combination of the jacket with the sweatshirt made me look good. Like, really, really good. Everything complemented each other piece in a way that made you think it was all made together in the same factory. I was pumped on how I looked and I thought I got a few stray stares on the street — but I’ve always been kinda vain.

J.Crew Mack Weldon Ace Crew, $68.00 at MackWeldon.com

RPMWest Original Quarter Century Jacket, $149.00 at RPMWest.com

Wednesday

Wednesday was a little bit warmer, but a little rainy. This actually made for the perfect day to see what my girlfriend would do in the face of precipitation.   What I would’ve worn   Man, forget looking good when it’s rainy. All sense goes out the window when it’s raining, and all I wear is hoodies. I think I was going to go for my joggers and an “I <3 New York” shirt I bought from JFK Airport. I really wasn’t feeling the day, so I couldn’t fathom how she had the energy to pick both mine and her outfit.   What she chose   Because it was warmer, she seemed confident in thinking I wouldn’t freeze to death in only a Burton sweatshirt and, uh, yeah she was right. She added in some navy Topman skinny pants for good measure and topped me off with the ONU Men’s Breathable rain shell. I don’t know if you guys have heard of ONU before, but they make a jacket that is, like, impenetrable to the elements. Seriously, I’ve never worn a rain jacket that doesn’t get soaked through and I was really impressed she managed to fish this out of the closet.

I was also planning to wear my Bean boots, but she convinced me to put on a pair of Thursday boots. This made me look and feel a little like Richard Dreyfus’s character from Jaws and that’s not a bad thing. I should mention, too, that she said my AVI-8 Hawker Hurricane would pair well with my Burton shirt and holy crap she wasn’t kidding. I think this watch (as opposed to the Seiko 5 I was going to wear) worked extremely well with the outfit.

Burton Classic Mountain Crew, $37.46 at Burton.com

ONU Breathable Rain Shell, $495.00 at ONU.is

Thursday President Boots, $199.00 at ThursdayBoots.com

AVI-8 Hawker Hurricane, $260.00 at Nordstrom.com

Thursday 

I think I dress badly when it’s nice outside — there’s something about the earth’s sun that makes me feel like some kind of invincible entity from Krypton.   What I would’ve worn   I guess my style, when it’s warm out, is something along the lines of a young John F. Kennedy spliced with Michael Pitt from Funny Games. I was so ready to be disappointed to not be wearing my striped crewneck from J. Crew.

J.Crew Textured Cotton Crewneck, $104.50 at JCrew.com

What she chose   I truly realized she was the one for me when I saw her pull the very same striped crewneck from J. Crew out of my dresser. It was fate + serendipity + the fact that I don’t own too many t-shirts. I was on cloud 9. Where I would’ve gone with a boring Levi’s jean jacket or the Bullet x Noble Denim jacket I’ve been waiting months to wear, she had a different idea: a thrift store leather jacket that I’ve owned for years. While I was excited at first, I ended up being way too warm in the jacket. This is really the only time I wasn’t in to what she chose.   She did, however, strike gold with the watch game by putting my Vincero Chrono S into the mix. This is a solid watch that I typically wear with Oxford shirts, but I found that it went effortlessly with the outfit and made me feel like some kind of boss-type guy.   The shoe choice was another aspect of the day we disagreed on. I wanted to wear my Sperry boat shoes (because, again, I am a character from The Purge) but she insisted upon my classic white Vans. Can’t win ‘em all.

Bulleit x Noble Denim Jacket, $285.00 at NobleDenim.com

Vincero Chrono S, $149.00 at VinceroCollective.com

Friday

The last day of the week was, perhaps, the most crucial, as I would be wearing this outfit to work and then to a drinks meeting with some prospective clients. We both knew I wanted to look fashionably professional (or professionally fashionable?) and she managed to kill it with her choices.   What I would’ve worn   Admittedly, I always overdo it with dressing up. I overthink the whole thing and usually end up looking like I’m trying to dress up. So, I was going to go with a grey blazer from Uniqlo paired with one of their nondescript blue oxford shirts and dark skinny jeans.   What she chose   I was surprised to hear that she didn’t like my go-to grey blazer. “It makes you look too skinny,” she said, obviously not knowing those words were music to my ear. What she ended up bestowing upon me was an outfit combination that I will undoubtedly be wearing every time I want to be fancy. She started with a dark blue gingham shirt from Mizzen + Main topped with a thin grey sweater that I’ve had since college. On top of that she went dark and made me wear a navy blazer that actually came from Jackthreads.com   I admit, her choosing dark blue jeans scared me into thinking that I was too dark, but it wasn’t until she suggested these friggin’ awesome tan Beckett Simonon loafers that it all came together. This outfit was incredible and, most importantly, versatile. I took the jacket and cardigan off at work and still felt like a boss.

Mizzen + Main Dark Blue Gingham Shirt, $125.00 at MizzenAndMain.com

Jack Threads Navy Knit Blazer, $125.00 at JackThreads.com

Beckett Simonon Cohen Loafer, $189.00 at BeckettSimonon.com

Conclusion

While there weren’t many days of overlap between my choices and hers, I still felt like my lovely girlfriend and I were on the same page more often than not. We both know what I look good and bad in and what which articles of clothing will work with in an outfit. I felt as confident as I usually do — with the exception of Tuesday’s super confident streak — and thoroughly enjoyed the way my body looked in every mirror I passed.   The big question is: am I going to ask her opinion every day now that I know she holds this power? Ha! Yes. Seriously, yes.

Related Reading This Is What Your Girlfriend Wants You To Wear Here"s The Trick To Buying The Perfect Pair Of Jeans Every Single Time

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Office Update :: Warm and Cozy Edition

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Office Update :: Warm and Cozy Edition

My little office/guest room/tiny house that’s connected to the back of our barn has been through a lot these past three years. But even with the huge transformation from dude sawmill office to girlie office, I still found myself hesitating to go out there and work. I shared what held me back from working out there in this post, to summarize: it’s colder and darker out there than I’m comfortable with.

I decided to pay attention to my own preferences (to be warm and to actually see) and it was amazing how easily the solutions came. And y’all, I hate disclaimers but this room is almost impossible to photograph. It’s either dark, or it’s the 20 minutes of the day where the sun shines through the door, my apologies.

1. warmth

When I first started using the office I layered cowhides all over the floor–it’s what I had and that’s a smart way to start. I actually love this look for this particular space, but, they do nothing to keep the chill off of your feet especially when layered on top of concrete floors. It was time to get a grown-up-lady rug.

I ended up finding this GORGEOUS rug online and y’all it’s as if they had me in mind when it was made way back when, even Instagram agreed we were a perfect match:

It can be TERRIFYING to buy stuff online for your home. And even MORE TERRIFYING to buy something that is a pain to return. Ask me how I know. But, I’ve found that sometimes the best selections and prices (bonus, introvert heaven) are online. I purchased every rug in my home and barn online–without seeing them in person first.

via: eSaleRugs

I’m happy to report that this rug and its colors were represented practically perfectly in the online photos.

That’s another scary part of online shopping. If you compare my photos of the rug with the big photo above from the website, it looks like a different rug.

That’s because the natural lighting is so awful in my office that I have to doctor up the photos so you can see them and it changes the color a little. In real life, the rug colors are almost identical to the photo above an that’s what you need to know when you are shopping online so you aren’t surprised.

My rug is from eSaleRugs.com (free shipping + free returns!) and I’m thrilled with it.

This is a one of a kind, Persian rug that’s older than I am and the quality is amazing. It’s my first grown-up rug and it’s wool, so it instantly warmed up the room visually and physically. I felt confident the rug colors would be right because I read other reviews and there were six different photos taken at different angles and distances so I could make a good decision.

excuse how the rug has a blue undertone in his photo–see what I mean?!

I always preach about the power of a rug pulling a room together yet, when I get my own, it always amazes me at how true that is. This rug is the great unifier connecting the day bed with my desk with the wood stove with the queen bed. The room feels 100% more finished now. #rugmagic

We haven’t really had a cold day for weeks (it was 80 degrees yesterday) so I haven’t totally solved the heat problem, but over Christmas Chad and I stayed at a friend’s house and she had one of these in the guest bedroom.  Kind of like what a hotel has–even with a remote! It was so great. I also like the idea of these–because venting is even less intrusive–anyone have experience with this kind of heater/ac?

2. Lighting.

Once I knew I needed lighting I immediately went to my favorite place to find lamps TJMaxx/Marshalls/HomeGoods (the holy trinity of home decor) and I found the perfect “lady lamp” for this space.

I also needed an overhead light and this was tricky. I wanted as much light as possible, but these ceilings are only 7 feet high so it had to be close to the ceiling. I couldn’t get this light from Amazon out of my head:

I loved the shape and interest it could add to the room. But the black felt all wrong for my lady office. It took me about two weeks to work up the courage, but I finally purchased it knowing I was going to immediately spray paint it pink.

Here it is right after Chad put it up–you can still see the unpainted ceiling where the old light was. BUT, once it was hanging I felt the pink was too light.  I asked Megan to mix up some random paints and paint it a darker shade and touch up the ceiling with whatever white paint she could find until I can locate the ceiling paint (that will probably never happen).

So now my office is warmer and cozier and I’ve been working here in the office almost daily! Mission accomplished!

This post contains affiliate links, special thanks to eSaleRugs for partnering with me!

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