#what the fuck is caviar and where the fuck is the west

[arunneronthird]

do u think they look at maps together and laugh like students looking at expensive restaurant menus

#what the fuck is caviar and where the fuck is the west #so anyway this is my ship #is it romantic i dont actually think so i just like luffy being happy and i like zoro being luffys #both of which are canon in weird ways #zolu #one piece #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #my art

[d-criss-news]

Darren Criss acts as playwright when he writes songs. He’s far more confident, and certainly more vulnerable, when he allows himself to play the part. In such a way, songwriting opens up a whole new world that pulses with untapped potential. So much of what he has accomplished in 15 years resides in his willingness to expose himself to what his imagination and intuition have in store. He steps into a playwright’s shoes with considerable ease (just look at his resume), and always one to put on plenty of bravado, especially during our Zoom face-to-face, it’s the natural order of things.

“As I get older and write more and more songs, I really recognize that I’ve always preferred to write for another context other than my own,” Criss tells American Songwriter. He speaks with a cool intensity, gesturing emphatically to accentuate a sentence, and when you let him go, he’s like the Energizer Bunny 一 “I can tell by just how quiet you already are that you’re fucked,” he jokes at the start of our video chat. But he remains just as engaged and focused when listening.

He soaks in the world, taking astute notes about behavior and emotional traits he can later use in song. His storytelling, though, arrives already in character, fully formed portraits he can then relay to the world. It’s not that he can’t be vulnerable, like such greats as Randy Newman, Tom Waits, and Rufus Wainwright, who have all embroidered their work with deeply personal observations, it just doesn’t feel as comfortable. “I’ve always really admired the great songwriters of the world who are extremely introspective and can put their heart and soul on the chopping block,” he muses. “That’s a vulnerability that I think is so majestic. I’ve never had access to it. I’m not mad about it. It’s just good to know what your deal is.”

Criss’ strengths lie in his ability to braid his own experiences, as charmed as they might be, into wild, goofy fantasies. In the case of his new series “Royalties,” now streaming on Quibi, he walks a fine line between pointed commentary on the music industry, from menial songwriting sessions to constantly chasing down the next smash, and oddball comedy that is unequivocally fun. Plotted with long-standing friends and collaborators Matt and Nick Lang, co-founders of Team StarKid, created during their University of Michigan days (circa 2009), the show’s conceptual nucleus dates back more than a decade.

If “Royalties” (starring Criss and Kether Donohue) feels familiar, that’s because it is. The 10-episode show ─ boasting a smorgasbord of delightful guest stars, including Mark Hammill, Georgia King, Julianna Hough, Sabrina Carpenter, and Lil Rel Howery ─ captures the very essence of a little known web series called “Little White Lie.” Mid-summer 2009, Team StarKid uploaded the shoddy, low budget production onto YouTube, and its scrappy tale of amateur musicians seeking fame and fortune quickly found its audience, coming on the heels of “A Very Potter Musical,” co-written with and starring Criss. Little did the trio know, those initial endeavors laid the groundwork for a lifetime of creative genius.

“It’s a full circle moment,” says Criss, 33, zooming from his Los Angeles home, which he shares with his wife Mia. He’s fresh-faced and zestful in talking about the new project. 11 years separate the two series, but their connective thematic tissues remain striking. “Royalties” is far more polished, the obvious natural progression in so much time, and where “Little White Lie” soaked in soapy melodrama, the former analyzes the ins and outs of the music world through more thoughtful writing, better defined (and performed) characters, and hookier original tunes.

“Royalties” follows Sara (Donohue) and Pierce (Criss), two struggling songwriters in Los Angeles, through various career exploits and pursuits. The pilot, titled “Just That Good,” features an outlandish performance from Rufus Wainwright as a major player in dance-pop music, kickstarting the absurdity of Criss’ perfectly-heightened reality. As our two main characters stumble their way between songwriting sessions, finally uncovering hit single potential while eating a hot dog, Criss offers a glimpse into the oft-unappreciated art of songwriting.

In his own songwriting career ─ from 2010’s self-released Human EP and a deal with Columbia Records (with whom a project never materialized) to 2017’s Homework EP and Computer Games’ debut, Lost Boys Life, (a collaboration with his brother Chuck) ─ he’s learned a thing or two about the process. Something about sitting in a room with someone you’ve never met before always rang a little funny to him.

“You meet a stranger, and you have to be creative, vulnerable, and open. It’s speed-dating, essentially. It’s a different episode every time you pull it off or not. All the big songwriters will tell you all these crazy war stories. Everyone has a wacky story from songwriting,” he says. “I slowly realized I may ─ I can’t flatter myself, there are tons of creative people who are songwriters ─ have prerequisites to just put the two together [TV and music]. I’ve worked enough in television as an actor and creator. I can connect the dots. I had dual citizenship where I felt like it was really time for me to go forth with this show.”

But a packed professional life pushed the idea to the backburner.

Between six seasons of “Glee” (playing Blaine Anderson, a Warbler and lover to Chris Colfer’s Kurt Hummel), starring in “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” on Broadway, and creating Elsie Fest, a one-day outdoor festival celebrating songs of the stage and screen, he never had the time. “I was lucky enough to be busy,” he says. “As Team StarKid’s star was continuing to rise with me being separate from it, I was trying to think of a way to get involved again with songwriting.”

At one point, “Glee” had officially wrapped and his Broadway run was finished. It appeared “Royalties” may finally get its day in the sun. “I went to Chicago for a work pilgrimage with the Langs. We had a few days, and we put all our ideas on the map: every musical, feature film, show, graphic novel, and animated series we’ve ever thought of,” he says. “A lot of them were from the Langs; they were just things I was interested in as a producer or actor. We looked at all of them and made a top three.”

“Royalties” obviously made the cut.

Fast forward several years, Gail Berman’s SideCar, a production company under FOX Entertainment, was looking to produce a music show. Those early conversations, beginning at an otherwise random LA party, showed great promise in airlifting the concept from novel idea to discernible reality. Things quickly stalled, however, as they often do in Hollywood, but Criss had at least spoken his dreams into the universe.

“I finally had an outlet to put it into gear. It wasn’t until two to three years after that that things really locked in. We eventually made shorts and made a pilot presentation. We showed it to people, and it wasn’t until Quibi started making their presence known that making something seemed really appealing,” he says. “As a creator, they’re very creator-centric. They’re not a studio. They’re a platform. They are licensing IP much like when a label licenses an indie band’s album after the fact.”

Quibi has drawn severe ire over the last few months, perhaps because there is a “Wild Westness” to it, Criss says. “I think that makes some people nervous. Being my first foray into something of this kind, Quibi felt like a natural partner for us. If this had been a network or cable show, we would’ve molded it to be whatever it was.”

Format-wise, “Royalties” works best as bite-sized vignettes, charming hijinks through the boardroom and beyond, and serves as a direct response to a sea of music shows, from “Nashville” and “Empire” to “Smash.” “Those shows were bigger, more melodramatic looks at the inside base of our world. I’ve always been a goofball, and I just wanted to take the piss out of it,” he says. “This show isn’t about songwriting. It’s about songwriters… but a very wacky look at them.”

“30 Rock,” a scripted comedy loosely based around “Saturday Night Live,” in which the focus predominantly resides around the characters, rather than the business itself, was also on his mind. “It’s about the interconnectivity of the people and characters. As much of the insider knowledge that I wanted to put into our show, at the end of the day, you just want to make a fun, funny show that’s relatable to people who know nothing about songwriting and who shouldn’t have to know anything.”

Throughout 10 episodes, Criss culls the “musicality, fun, and humor” of Fountains of Wayne’s Adam Schlesinger and Max Martin, two of his biggest songwriting heroes, and covers as many genres as possible, from K-Pop to rap-caviar and classic country. While zip-lining between formats, the songs fully rely on a sturdy storytelling foundation ─ only then can Criss drape the music around the characters and their respective trajectories. “I wanted to do something where I could use all the muscles I like to flex at once, instead of compartmentalizing them,” he says. “I really love writing songs for a narrative, not necessarily for myself. I thrive a little more when I have parameters, characters, and a story to tell.”

Bonnie McKee, one of today’s greatest pop architects, takes centerstage, too, with an episode called “Kick Your Shoes Off,” in which she plays a bizarro version of herself. “She has her own story, and I’ve always been fascinated by it,” says Criss, who took her out to lunch one day to tell her about it. Initially, the singer-songwriter, known for penning hits for Katy Perry, Taio Cruz, and Britney Spears, would anchor the entire show, but it soon became apparent she would simply star in her own gloriously zany episode.

In one of the show’s standout scenes, Pierce and Sara sit in on a label meeting with McKee’s character and are tasked with writing a future hit. But they quickly learn how many cooks are in the kitchen at any given moment. Everyone from senior level executives to publicists and contracted consultants have an opinion about the artist’s music. One individual urges her to experiment, while another begs not to alienate her loyal fanbase, and then a third advises her to chronicle the entire history of music itself ─ all within three minutes or so. It’s absurd, and that’s the point. “Everyone’s been in that meeting, whether you’re in marketing or any creative discussion that has to be made on a corporate level by committee. It’s the inevitable, comedic contradictions and dissociations from not only rationality but feasibility.”

Criss also draws upon his own major label days, having signed with Sony/Columbia right off the set of “Glee,” as well as second-hand accounts from close friends. “There are so many artists, particularly young artists, who famously get chewed up and spat out by the label system,” he says. “There’s a lot of sour tastes in a lot of people’s mouths from being ‘mistreated’ by a label. I have a lot of friends who’ve had very unfortunate experiences.”

“I was really lucky. I didn’t have that. I have nothing but wonderful things to say,” he quickly adds.“It wasn’t a full-on drop or anything. I was acting, and I was spreading myself really thin. It’s a record label’s job to make product, and I was doing it piecemeal here and there. I would shoot a season [of ‘Glee’] and then do a play. I was doing too many things. I didn’t have it in me at the time to do music. I had written a few songs I thought were… fine.”

Both Criss and the label came to the same conclusion: perhaps this professional relationship just wasn’t a good fit. They parted ways, and he harbors no ill-will. In fact, he remains close friends with many folks from that time. So, it seems, a show like “Royalties” satisfies his deep hunger to make music and write songs ─ and do it totally on his own terms.

“I still say I want to put out music, and fans have been very vocal about that. I feel very fortunate they’re still interested at all,” he says. “That passion for making music really does come out in stuff like [this show].”

“Royalties” is Darren Criss at his most playful, daring, and offbeat. It’s the culmination of everything he has tirelessly worked toward over the last decade and a half. Under pressure with a limited filming schedule, he hits on all cylinders with a soundtrack, released on Republic Records, that sticks in the brain like all good pop music should do. And it would not have been the same had he, alongside Matt and Nick Lang, not formed Team StarKid 11 years ago.

Truth be told, it all began with a “Little White Lie.”

#darren criss #american songwriter #royalties press #press #royalties #june 2020

[lizzybeth1986]

Very Slow Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 8

• This chapter is meh. It's basically a full chapter of the writers taking the Walker ranch portion of the story, and stretching it like chewing gum at this point. I was pretty much sleepwalking through this one tbh.

• The only interesting bit in this was the Drake childhood scene, but because the initial scenes will always be slight buildup to the actual meat of the backstory - rather than the story itself - its placement in a chapter as dull as this one doesn't exactly do it any favours.

• To avoid seeing these posts on your dash, you can block the following tags: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post

• Screenshot Credits:

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and the HIMEME YouTube channel

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

I'm sorry I don't have any Maxwell screenshots this time around, since I couldn't find it on YouTube, and I wasn't able to ask permission for screenshots on time. As soon as a video of his route is up on YouTube, I'll try adding the collages with his screenshots up. But I do have a tiny gist of what happens in certain portions of his playthrough, thanks to Tumblr, so I'll put those up as quotes.

• Title: Ride Like The Wind

Alternate Title: There Are Other Things My MC Could Be Riding...But Okay

• We begin with the sisters (yeah Leona and Bianca are back to being sisters now), worrying over how they'll get their cattle to the upcoming auction on time since every ranch hand they'd reached out for help pretty much declined.

• Not only is stubbornness a family trait, but so is the tendency to judge people at face value (I'm looking at you, Leona).

• There are a bunch of parallels between the Walker Ranch situation and the Beaumont house one in Book 1: both for the Regatta and the Beaumont Bash. Only difference is, the writers won't bother to expand much on Beaumont History but throw around every minute detail they can imagine for Drake's family (IIRC, even the mystery in Beaumont House in Book 1 was mostly Savannah related).

• Even in moments of dire need, Leona HAS to slip in snide remarks about people she barely knows.

Slight variation on the third option, if you're married to Drake. The other two highlight either the fact that the MC spent most of her life as a commoner and could think on her feet, and the second establishes that she has at least some riding experience. Leona pokes fun at you for both, but has the sense to not deliver much of her unwanted opinion for the third (besides stating they don't have much of a choice).

• The MC also highlights the benefit of bringing the others along: Hana and Liam have a lot of riding experience, Drake is 'capable' and 'outdoorsy' and for some reason Maxwell is known only for his enthusiasm (even though Beaumont House HAS horses and a stable and the Brothers Beaumont would have had SOME experience at the very least 🤷🏽‍♀ [Didn't the Beaumont Bash involve letting in a couple horses into the house? I doubt those horses would even be there if those two didn't know how to ride and manage them]).

Hands down my favourite line in this chapter (Liam's king voice one comes a close second). I really love this because in stories like TRR/D&D, there's always that divide between nobility vs commoner, aesthetics vs utility...and in dialogues like these you can really see that difference. It reminds me a little of one of my favourite scenes from D&D Book 1, where Briar looks at the MC's embroidery and wonders aloud how a pretty piece like this would be of any use to anyone.

• The suede is fine but there's too much going on with the rest of the outfit for me to really admire it. Our LIs obviously don't agree with me:

Drake and Liam have the same dialogue, Hana and Maxwell have different ones. (in Maxwell's he tells her he is ready to "serenade my amazingly dressed, darlin' wife").

• Everyone gets their horses (Bianca gives King Liam a gentler horse so she doesn't end up indirectly harming a king, and Leona gives Bertrand a rough horse on purpose. Because Bertrand has to be on his best behaviour he agrees despite his initial fears).

• Hmm. Chuck finds out about the lack of help via a rumour. Hmmmm. Bertrand gets as skittish as his horse until the MC and Bianca remind him that they might as well take all the help they need.

• So the task is to ensure that the group reaches the big fair on time (or before) so that the sisters have enough time to prepare for their auction. Since they're short of staff and have a lot of cattle, every minute counts.

• There are roughly 3 tests that can ensure we get there on time if we pass:

- help move a group of stubborn cows from the six dozen we're taking to the auction (you can either say giddyup or scream out silly idioms that they won't understand). If you don't say giddyup, Drake will say it for you.

- Move the herd of cows away from a mud patch on the way. Drake suggests a move he and Savannah used to do as kids called The Cyclone, where 1-2 people get in the way of the herd and the riders come from another side to steer them away. This ensures that they get the cows away from the mud patch. This one is the most time-sensitive of the three, because if we fail this one a lot of time gets spent in getting the cows that fell into the mud patch out of the muck and onto the path again.

- Get a cow wandering through the stream out of it safely using a lasso. The problem arises when the cow starts fidgeting while you're taking them back. Here is where your suede outfit has an advantage, because if you choose "grip the pommel with your hands" and almost fall off the horse, the sturdy outfit will ensure you're safe.

-

All of this results either in you getting the cattle to the auction way before time with an hour to spare, or so late that they reach after the auction itself has begun. In the second option, Leona is nervous about their chances but Bianca insists that they did better than they could have done alone.

• Some stuff that you learn/that happens on the way:

- Chuck calls Leona Miss Walker, so is Walker really Bianca's surname rather than Jackson's? Jackson is also referred to as Jackson Walker. So whose nickname was it initially?

- Wild West Nicknames:

* Maxwell can either be Mad Maxwell or Maxwell 'Calamity' Beaumont. Both nicknames from the MC speak of his tendency to veer towards chaos, or his boundless energy.

* Liam is simply called King Liam because PB is fucking lazy.

* Drake is called The Lone Ranger by Hana, and Hana is called Lucky Lee by Drake.

* The MC can choose her nickname - Cow Boss, Jewel of the Prairie and Wild [Surname]. The second is a nice callback to both one of Valtoria's House mottos (Jewel of the Earth) and a name that Maxwell gives to a caviar dish for the Beaumont Bash (Jewels of the Sea). Personally I think the second one is a better parallel since the Beaumont House situation was already a precursor to what is going on with the Walker Ranch.

-

Well yes Liam, on people.

That aside...Jesus Christ is this man adorable.

- Alright, so much as I can't stand Leona? At least she has a legitimate ax to grind with Cordonian monarchy. Why the hell is CHUCK being like her and acting all condescending?? The closest thing to a 'noble' he's been around was Savannah and they barely even had anything together if we go by what Savannah says. What is he, the shit stirrer of Walker Ranch?

-

I have two points to make about this:

1. Constantine...is a fucking asshole. Most of us knew that. I think TRH just seems to be expanding more on that.

2. Sooo...exactly what was Constantine like before the Nevrakis ppl did what they did coz at this point he sounds like an utter failure in every way imaginable. His wife seems to have serious issues with him at this point, he's too busy fighting to spend any time with his kids (well. at least the one the writers remember), has neglected his friend Hakim, doesn't have good political relations with anyone, screws over the King Guard who he gave a Guardian of the Realm honour to earlier, for saving his life...after the man has died.

3. Leona pretty much doesn't seem to care about anything else besides the money Bianca could have been bringing in. It's the main thing she mentions when we first meet her, and it's the front and center of what she's telling us now. What Bianca was going through, the fact that her kids were left behind in an environment that was seemingly not a good one for them - she hasn't mentioned this so far in any of her more obvious complaints towards the nobility. I mean, is that the first thing you think about when your sister returns to her maternal home after such a devastating tragedy? Really??

4. The other funny thing is...she complains about not getting compensation from the royalty yet forgets that for a whole year or more when Bianca and Leona were not there for her (not their fault obviously, since she likely never told them)...it was a noble family's money that supported Savannah and Bartie. The money of the same Bertrand Leona is now enjoying lording over. I guess she would only know this if she were actually giving her sister's children the time of day, and I have hardly seen her do so, so far.

• Once we reach the fair and the sisters have moved forward to where the auction is happening, we are allowed to check out the rest of the fair. Cue diamond scene!

• I kinda think of this as a Group-LI kind of diamond scene - one where you spend time with the characters, but not separately. In a usual group scene they interact and do stuff together before you get time alone with them, but here, the group interactions are minimal and you get time with each LI in different situations. If you are married to said LI, the dialogues are obviously more romantic.

Drake: Opts for bull riding. He's shocked at the number of waivers he has to sign before participating, has a tough time atop the bull BUT manages to stay on longer than the rest. The rest of the group cheers him on as he comes out victorious, and the MC can either be baffled at his daring, or try it out herself.

The MC who is Drake's wife can opt to kiss him just before he participates and tell him to be safe.

Maxwell: Asks us to join in a tandem pie eating competition with him. The MC and Maxwell can either easily win, or be disqualified for starting a pie fight. Either way, the experience is a blast.

As Maxwell's wife, you get to kiss him after you've won/gotten disqualified, and tell him how his ability to make you laugh and have fun is exactly why your marriage is so amazing. (as Maxwell puts it: "never a dull day and more pie eating contests than you'd expect").

Hana: Has found a dressage-trained horse, and is happily getting the horse to do a perfect figure-eight. What follows is a heartfelt conversation about what home means to her, all the possibilities she can now freely explore, and the changes she has experienced. You can either tell her about her tendency to be competitive (something she apparently did not know herself...uh, yeah, sure), or her love and loyalty towards her friends.

As Hana's wife, you can kiss her, tell her you're falling more and more in love with her each day, and Hana gets to tell you that for her, home is where you are.

Liam: Has learned how to make a lasso from a local at the fair. He speaks of how places like these make him feel like he perhaps may understand his own people better, even if these activities are not what the court would expect or approve of from a king. He can show a few rope tricks to the MC, like catching a chair with a lasso, or be 'captured' by the MC.

As Liam's wife, there's the opportunity to flirt either by using the lasso on Liam, or asking him to tie you up.

• Savannah gives an update from Bertrand on how the cattle drive has gone, and Drake brings along some Texas barbeque. The group love it, but the MC finds it a little too much on the spicier side (bold of you, team TRH, to think I can't handle the seasoning in Texas when I have numbed my tongue on bird's-eye chilis!).

• Gah. The paps again. But this time, we're prepared and able to put a positive spin on our trip to Texas (this is either a romantic getaway to ensure we conceive a child, supporting a local business, attending the wedding of a noble) and the paparazzo runs with it. Chuck comes to our 'rescue' a minute later and Savannah is very appreciative.

• Tensions continue brewing beneath the surface between Bertrand and Chuck. Chuck tries to bond with Bartie, who is naturally a friendly child, and Bertrand isn't able to hide how he feels about this. You get to either deflect the situation by telling Bertrand to show Bartie how a "Beaumont high-five" works, or by telling Chuck not to cut into Bartie's animal petting time.

• Savannah complains. Only improvement is that at least this time she mentions that she's spoken to Bertrand and even then he feels he has something to prove (gee, Savannah, I wonder why. It's not like your AUNT has anything to do with that, for sure!)

• "Whatever's going on with Bertrand, I hope he figures it out before our wedding". 'Because I sure as hell don't care', Savannah forgot to add. Like...the root of his current insecurities is right in front of her. Right in her family. Leona has been rubbing it in that he is a 'useless noble' ever since he's been here (even giving him a skittish horse on purpose) and not once has Savannah ever said a thing - either in front of Bertrand, or secretly to us in all the times she's been complaining about him. That's a...surprisingly cavalier attitude for someone getting married to this guy in a couple days.

• Seeing Bertrand, Savannah and Bartie as a family leads the MC and LI to talk about their own search for a family. Nowadays I generally tap over a scene like this because I personally find the MC having the option to be upset and sorry for herself about not being pregnant, a little annoying. I wouldn't under normal circumstances, considering what this book is about (in fact I would be quite happy) - but I think I'm allowed to feel sore over the fact that the MC unfairly gets the space to feel about this the way others can't. So yeah, for me scenes like these are not worth talking about.

• We're back at the ranch, where the group laughs and reminisces over the last trip some of them (Liam, Drake, Savannah) took to the ranch, and the strongest memory we here about is of Jackson, Drake's father who was once Constantine and Eleanor's security detail.

• In our second childhood diamond scene, we are taken back to their last visit to the ranch, where a rather unwell Eleanor is protected by Jackson, and where the children witness a fight between the king and queen. Drake and Jackson have a conversation in the stables later, where the father evades questions about Constantine and Eleanor from a very worried son, and instead chooses to ask him questions about his future. Here are the things I could glean from the scenes:

- Bianca doesn't get a younger sprite here even though she is present in the scene, and there's a chance that they're maybe saving that for a flashback scene for her (?)

- Eleanor's meant to appear unwell, tired and very unlike herself in this sequence - and even if we've just met her it's quite clear that something is off with her. She is shown looking weary a couple of times, and Jackson says "easy does it" at one point. She shows a lot more frustration towards Constantine than in the last scene, calling him out for his paranoia and asking him if his questions (about her wanting an alliance with Auvernal) are an order from the king rather than a request from her husband. Even Constantine points out that she is not herself.

- Other than Auvernal being her maternal home, what else do we know about her connections there? (besides that telling quote by Bradshaw about Eleanor always graciously welcoming them - which interestingly seems to leave out Constantine). I feel like the upcoming trip there next chapter is going to give us an insight into that.

- There is a heavy emphasis on Liam and Drake's friendship, and Drake's feeling of 'responsibility' towards Liam...which I think is kind of a pointer to the whole question of him returning to court after the assassination and staying with Liam when they're older. Even his conversation with Jackson has the latter mentioning that he would be of the most help if he keeps Liam and his parents happy during their time in the ranch.

- The ending itself shows a significant shift from Drake's attitude towards Liam in the first half (playful, friendly, wants Liam to be safe around his mother's home) to the last (protective, determined to cheer Liam up and more reflective). This scene is clearly a Drake scene through and through and the approach is very different from the first set of childhood scenes. This might be how childhood solo scenes will be dealt with from now on.

- Jackson also mentions not being able to speak openly about the problems between Constantine and Eleanor, and Liam tells us later on that he was kind of a confidant to both of them. Jackson also mentions in the stable scenes that he is responsible for keeping them alive but not for their personal problems. The perfect King Guard. Constantine is an ass for denying his family compensation (but also I wonder if there is more to that story the way they frame it. I hope they don't try to force another of those "it was for the good of Cordoniaaaaa" excuses the writers always keep ready for Constantine.

- If Olivia was so suspicious, why were they leaving her behind?

- There are significant differences between the Drake playthrough and other playthroughs in terms of certain scenes. One lies in the options little Drake can make with regards to his future. The third options in both playthroughs show indicators of his future. If present-day Drake is single in your playthrough, it will focus on his desire for a simpler life. If he is married now, then the flashback will include this:

The other two options are Drake speaking about wanting to be a King Guard like his dad, and wanting to stay Liam's best friend. The King Guard thing obviously doesn't happen, the second one happens because Liam almost died. The third one is more clearly a pointer to Drake's future.

- Another significant variation if you are married to Drake is that you have a conversation with him after the scene is over, about his thoughts on his child becoming an heir to the throne:

Reminds me of the conversation we had at the American bar. On the one hand, I like this because as an outsider in the court and someone close to the security detail at the time, he would think of Liam's life very differently. Kids are impressionable, and ostentatious shows of wealth in front of a kid who cannot afford that much can definitely sting.

- Hmm. Hmm. So Liam's sacrifices only become important to Drake when his own kid might face the same challenges? Until then he will yap about how much luckier Liam is and how everything revolves around Liam? How girls were after Liam and not him (yet the one girl who did like him, he eventually treated like trash)? How he thought of Liam as "leading the MC on" by spending time with her when they first met/during the social season? (that's an actual dialogue he says, in Book 3 Chapter 16). Added to this is the fact that Drake stayed in the palace for free, as Liam's friend, and hardly had to do much (he freely roams around the cities Liam has to visit for diplomatic reasons, he can opt out of court events when he wants, he doesn't even have to dress the way others do - even the MC that doesn't buy outfits has to wear a gown that represents her sponsors/duchy for official events). Now when it's convenient for Drake he chooses to think about the flip side? When that flip side should have been the most obvious to him, the Prince/King's best friend??

• The setup for the next chapter comes in the form of a letter from Auvernal, asking the MC to meet them. Well. It's not Texas, so I'll take it.

General Thoughts:

- I don't have a lot to say about this chapter. There's not much really. It's boring and bland and even the nice Drake childhood scene at the end can't save it.

- Bianca's little line about not wanting to harm a King on her ranch...I feel like part of it may be concern because Liam was after all her son's best friend, and part of it may be wariness because of Constantine? But a lot of this is definitely me reading too much into this one little line 😅

- It does have some decent callbacks though:

* Team TRH FINALLY remembers that Hana has done dressage, which was shown to us as far back as TRR Book 1 Chapter 13. Brava!

* The whole premise of a family struggling with money problems and us offering help and getting the job done, is very reminiscent of the pre-Beaumont Bash sequences where we were scrambling together appetizers, helping with cleaning and setting up the ballroom for the big event. It's kind of ironic because the Beaumonts were in this position once, and now at least 3 books later they are involved in helping the sisters get the cattle drive going.

* The pie fight in Maxwell's section of the diamond scene has some similarities to the food fight in the fondue party scene in Book 2.

* Hana's response to eating barbeque strongly resembles how she approaches eating sloppy joes in Book 1, at the beach party. Back there, she is nervous about sampling the food because it is messy, and here she initially asks about utensils to eat it with, to which Maxwell says "you have ten of them!" referring to her fingers.

* The Jewel nickname for the MC, which we've seen versions of before in Book 1 and Book 3.

* A lighter version of the MC-Drake conversation in the Drake x MC playthrough can be found in the American bar scene in Book 1, where he speaks about how his parents always tried to get him things for his birthday but Liam's parents always went many steps ahead simply because they could afford it.

* Drake being called the Lone Wolf by Hana, which was something the MC could opt to dub herself in her interview at the Derby in Book 1? (a bit of a stretch I know but I'm having fun with this okay 😂)

- Could a kind anon (or not-anon) tell me if there is a reference behind 'Lucky Lee'? In fact behind all the names except maybe the Lone Wolf one for Drake. I couldn't find any hehehe.

- Now that we're going to Auvernal, I think we'll find (paywalled) clues there that might tell us more about Eleanor. Those clues about her changed behaviour and physical condition must have been placed exactly here for a reason.

- Usually Chapters 9 or 10 have been chapters that dealt with some aspect of Constantine and his family (his abdication + news of his impending death in Book 1, discovery of his involvement in the conspiracy in Book 2, and his death in Book 3). So now would be the perfect time to discover the truth about Eleanor and her relationship with Constantine, and what was troubling her.

- One theory I have is that Eleanor's being slow-poisoned, and these may be symptoms of what she is having. @thefirstcourtesan mentioned that pregnancy could be a reason too, and it would be another connecting factor with the MC. One thing that I do feel a little certain about is that this trip to Texas may have been a little while before she died.

- How is it that the narrative has absolutely no memory of the fact that Leo was once heir to the throne? I can imagine him not being very close to Liam-Drake-Maxwell or being a teenager who didn't want to be around his father (esp if that father is acting the way Constantine does in these scenes)...but not even a reference? A mention? You have the time to draw an entire sprite of little Savannah who pretty much has very little to do with this part of the story (or any part of the overall story) but Leo isn't even mentioned? Sounds a little fishy to me.

- I possibly wouldn't have minded Savannah's complaining and lack of proactiveness with the Bertrand situation, if their entire storyline didn't revolve around her being this "perfect angel" Bertrand has to be worthy of, and Bertrand's mistakes repeatedly being pulled up while Savannah doesn't have to answer much for the occasions where she is irrational or hasn't made good decisions. What we're seeing now is just an extension of this particular storyline.

- You can tell that the original epilogue series was meant to revolve around the Walker Ranch coz whatever we're seeing here is probably way way more than we have seen of Cordonia so far. There are frantic attempts to tie this to the overall plotline, but within the larger picture it makes very little sense.

Like I hate the paparazzi in the series and even then I found myself agreeing when he pointed out that it was weird that half the Royal Council was roaming around Texas.

- Speaking of the Council I wonder what the other court ladies were doing while we were at the fair. Sleeping off those hangovers?

- There could be other childhood/flashback scenes coming up. We will need an adult perspective, so Bianca might get one. Olivia needs to be seen as important and relevant to the plot (plus Constantine was shitty to her too), so she will get one.

- I wonder why Bastien had such a loyalty and attachment to Queen Eleanor (as stated in Book 2 by Regina) if he actually wasn't that close to the royal couple then (Jackson seems to fulfill that role here). I'm pretty sure they're probably going to ignore/forget that little detail.

- Will Hana and Maxwell get flashback scenes? They should, and there are ways you could incorporate that even if they weren't involved as much. Maxwell's could (FINALLY) focus on what happened to his family fortunes and you could slip in a little something about the palace there. Hana's could focus on her family and also have Lorelai catch up on Cordonian news/talk to her Cordonian relatives. Liam needs a solo scene of his own too, because after this I'm pretty sure his life takes a turn for the worse. If Hana and Maxwell (but esp Hana) don't get one...that's going to be extremely disheartening because they deserve way more attention than what they're getting now. I'm sincerely hoping we see more of their childhood memories too.

- You know what I'm REALLY looking forward to? Writing TRR 1's Chapter 8 QT. I'm very fond of that chapter and have a whole bunch of points to make about it 😀

- Until the next chapter, everyone!

#long post #trh quick thoughts #trh qts #the royal heir #king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #drake walker #bertrand beaumont #savannah walker

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic | Bad Girls Club (5/?)

Title: Bad Girls Club Summary:  Los Angeles’ new program, the Juvenile Female Rehabilitation Program (JFRP) was created with the purpose of taking at-risk girls in the county and send them to a summer-long program located where a sleepaway camp once stood. There, they will take classes in ethics, behavior, and other courses to help mold these young minds. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa have been sent there for wildly different reasons, but with the same result - a clean permanent record. Being roomed together, the pair might find an unlikely alliance (and maybe more) in each other. Word Count: ~2.6k (this chapter)/~13.2k (total) Relationship: Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo) Rating: E

Read on AO3

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[October 8th, 2017]

Brooke had been staring at her bedroom door for over fifteen minutes now. She was trying to will her legs to work, will her arms to open the damn door. There had been weeks of anticipation – she had practiced what she was going to say in front of the mirror dozens of times every night. It was much more comfortable to perform intricate dances in front of a full auditorium.

Fuck it, this was it.

“Are you busy, Mom?” Brooke’s voice was meek as she poked her head around the corner into the living room.

The muffled noises of the television silenced. “No, come in.”

For the most part, Brooke Lynn wasn’t afraid of her mother. They generally kept to themselves unless otherwise necessary and cohabited perfectly adequately. But this? This was entirely different. It would change the entire course of her life drastically, possibly for the worse in the short term. Still, she knew she would regret it if she didn’t say it at all.

Brooke fidgeted with her fingers; eyes trained on the floor. “You know how I told you I didn’t want to go out with your friend’s son because he’s an anarchist?” She didn’t wait for her mother to respond. “He’s not. At least… not as far as I know. The truth is...” Her throat tightened, and her heart started to race. “I’m not attracted to him. Or any guy. I-I-I... I like girls. I’m gay, Mom.”

The ticking of the clock in the otherwise silent room felt like a bomb counting down to her world collapsing around her. Brooke Lynn needed her mom to say something, anything. “Mommy?”

Her mother sighed. “I suppose this is my fault. Perhaps if you’d spent less time with your nanny, you wouldn’t have this… misplaced need for affection.”

Brooke swallowed thickly and shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Kyle. It’s just who I am. A-And I want you to still accept me.” Her eyes welled with tears and the strength to keep the dam from breaking was dissipating with every passing moment.

“Well I don’t really have any choice but to do that now do I?” she scoffed, then added “these days they call that child abuse,” flippantly. “You’re still my daughter, Brooke Lynn. Now please be a dear and go fetch me my wine.”

“Which glass?”

“Oh no, just bring me the bottle.”

[Present Day]

“No, I don’t got no fucking wine. Where d’you think I’d keep it? In a cooler with some caviar? Look, do you want the vodka or not?”

Brooke nodded and handed the girl a twenty-dollar bill. “Yes please,” she mumbled and exchanged it for a sixteen-ounce bottle of Smirnoff. Luckily it was a rare chilly evening on campus, allowing her to smuggle the bottle in her sweatshirt (while looking over her shoulder every ten seconds) all the way back to her room, everyone she passed none the wiser.

Luckier still, the room was empty when she returned to it, allowing her to make a cocktail of vodka and fruit punch and pour the artificially red mixture into a metallic water bottle. There was a split second’s hesitation.

Having never been drunk on vodka before, Brooke Lynn didn’t know what to expect from the experience. As it turned out, it was brief euphoria and dizzy bliss followed by becoming utter comatose. It was probably for the best – to be dead to the world by the time Vanessa returned. She wasn’t ready to talk to her – she wasn’t even entirely certain why she was so upset, other than it was obviously her fault, apparently. And she felt guilty – it pained her to be the reason why her sometimes-lover was hurt.

The next morning, Vanessa was woken up by the sound of Brooke Lynn groaning. “Damn you really hungover, huh?” she observed, noting that maybe karma had laid a hand in this. “Take some Advil and get ready. You ain’t getting outta class cause you lack self-control.”

“Ugh. So mean,” Brooke grumbled and pulled the pillow over her head.

“That’s life.”

Vanessa was dressed by the time Brooke Lynn got herself out of bed. “How the hell did you get that shit in here anyway?”

Brooke rubbed her eyes as she pulled herself together. “Bought it off some girl. Said she knows a guy. And that I ask too many questions,” she recalled. “It worked though. Got me good.”

“So, you just gonna drink til you feel better?”

“That's the plan.”

[November 20th, 2017]

Brooke caught her breath as the front door shut behind her. “Okay, we’re in the clear,” she exhaled, waving the wine bottle around like a trophy and parading it in front of her as they walked up to Detox’s bedroom.

“You sure your mom’s not gonna notice she’s a bottle short?” Her eyes scanned the label with casual interest before setting it down on her end table while Brooke Lynn shifted to sit comfortably on the bed.

After a couple of moments of struggling, Brooke dislodged the cork from the bottle and took a swig. “Nah, it’s like taking one jellybean from the whole bag,” she reasoned. “Besides, it’s not like I took an expensive bottle, this is a dessert wine.”

“So, what would you call a breakfast wine?”

“The first sign of a drinking problem.”

Detox laughed and shoved her, narrowly avoiding a wine spill on her duvet. She then snatched the bottle from Brooke to down a long swig. “She still not down with the gay thing?”

There was a wince and a moment of tensing up before Brooke sighed and lay down. “If you call ‘a mounting resentment due in part to the blow in social standing from rampant gossip mixed with casual homophobia’ not being down with the gay thing, then yes.”

“You know, just ‘yes’ would’ve sufficed,” she huffed, then her expression softened. “I’m sorry shit’s still rocky between you guys. I’m sure it’ll get better eventually. You talk to Miss West about it?”

Brooke reclaimed the wine and her finger traced around the mouth of the bottle and she stared into it, as if the answer to her problems rested at the bottom. “Yeah, but she always wants to do something about it. Her heart’s in the right place but I’m not always looking for a solution. I just wanna get things off my chest sometimes.”

And her friend listened intently, nodding slowly. “Maybe you should just tell her that. Use your words like a big girl and then we can celebrate with wine instead.”

[Present Day]

Brooke poked her head into Nina’s classroom. “You got a minute?” She let herself in before getting verbal confirmation and sat herself at the edge of the teacher’s desk.

“I was actually hoping you’d come by sooner rather than later.” Nina confessed casually, not wanting to ambush her. But immediately, she saw the suspicion and hesitance in her student’s expression. “I know you were hungover in class. Think you’re okay to tell me why?”

And Brooke Lynn appreciated the way she never pressured her into divulging more than she was ready to. “I had...a falling out with Vanessa. I don’t know exactly what I said, but I’m sure it was my fault,” she sighed, “because it always fucking is.”

Nina reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come on, you know that’s not true,” she gently assured. “Have you talked to her about it?”

Brooke bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t know how.”

She tugged on the teenager’s hand until they made eye contact. “Listen to me, Brooke Lynn, even though I know you don’t want to hear it.” Nina waited until she had her full attention. “You need to learn how to let your guard down, even if it’s just one baby step at a time. I know you like Vanessa a whole lot – more than you’re willing to admit, I’m sure. I’m not saying you have to put your heart on the line in some like, dramatic gesture, but I think you’d be opening yourself up to a great deal of happiness if you let yourself feel.”

As hard as it was to admit – in fact she may never do so outright – Brooke knew Nina was right. Of course, that didn’t mean anything in regards to her ability to actually follow through on that sort of thing. It just was not in her nature – it wasn’t in the nature of anyone in her family. “Maybe I can try…”

“After all, we don’t want a repeat of last time, right?”

Brooke yanked herself away abruptly, face flushing red. “Don’t… don’t talk about that,” and before Nina could respond, she turned on her heel and briskly left the classroom. The last thing she needed was to reopen old scars.

[March 2nd, 2018]

“You know, I’ve tolerated a lot of your weird post-outing behavior shit, but I’m not giving you a free pass on this one.” Detox clicked her tongue and shook her head. “How the fuck do you have the gall to flake out on someone like Kameron Michaels?”

Brooke gave an exaggerated eyeroll and popped a couple grapes in her mouth, eating them before answering. “It wasn’t even like, an actual date. Relax.”

Detox stared at her incredulously. “You guys have been all up on each other for like, almost two weeks. But as soon as she wants to go out with you, you drop off the face of the fucking earth! And I’d understand if it was pretty much anyone else but come on bitch – she can flip a straight girl in her sleep. Not a lot of public-school girls can pull that off around here.”

“Then she won’t miss me,” she shrugged flippantly, looking off into the distance instead of her eyes drifting anywhere near her friend.

“How’s convincing yourself of that going?”

“Swimmingly, thanks for asking.”

Detox scoffed and grabbed a handful of grapes from Brooke’s bowl. “You’re so full of shit,” she said with her mouth full.

Brooke responded with an indignant huff. “Maybe so. But it works.” The definition of working was undoubtedly skewed, but she lacked any desire to address it. She could take care of herself and not get hung up on a fling – or she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.

And as it turned out, believing it had proven to be a near impossible hurdle to overcome and she was suffering the consequences of her own denial. But there was no way she was going to turn to Detox when this realization dawned on her – so she went to the only other person she knew she could trust.

“You look like you’ve had a rough week. Honestly, if you hadn’t come in, I’d have sought you out myself. I’m worried about you, Brooke Lynn.” Nina’s tone was gentle and kind, but there was a heavy layer of concern paired with it. And it was sincere – she had always made it her duty to take care of her students’ emotional health – especially the ones in the LGBTQ+ community, because she knew exactly what these frightened, wide-eyed girls were going through.

After some uncomfortable fidgeting and shifting around, Brooke nodded. “What happened was… I was seeing this girl casually – like, I thought we were just having fun, you know? Then she asked me on a date, and I said yes because it would’ve just been too rude not to. But then I bailed last minute, and I did apologize, and she said it was okay but… I just feel awful.”

To Nina’s credit, she was a naturally great listener, which, unsurprisingly, proved to be a massive strength in her career. She nodded attentively but never tried to interrupt or talk over her – it was imperative that students like Brooke Lynn saw her as someone they could freely and openly talk about their problems with. “Well, let’s start here – how do you feel about her?”

The first time Brooke had gone to Nina for help, she had found it jarring – it had been the first time any adult had expressed any interest in hearing about her struggles – so of course she had been keeping them all bottled up. But that day she had spent nearly two hours after the final bell rang sitting in that classroom and pouring her heart out. As much of a relief as it had been, she was left feeling nauseous the rest of that evening. Clearly, doing that with any sort of regularity has posed an issue, which is why she replied to the question with a shrug and a ‘I don’t know’ noise.

Nina didn’t buy it. “I think you do know.”

Brooke sighed in the way one would expect a pouty teenager would. “I… Yeah, I guess I like her. But I know I don’t want to date her. I don’t want a girlfriend yet.”

“Do you think it’s actually because you don’t want to? Or because you think you can’t?”

Another shrug and ‘I don’t know’ sound.

“You’ve got to work with me here, Brooke.”

This time, Brooke was at least trying her best. “It just seems like too much. I got enough going on and I feel like a relationship is just too much for me.”

“That’s a good start, you should tell her that.”

[Present Day]

“You might wanna make sure you look extra nice before you go into the dining hall today.”

Brooke had quickly learned to take everything Scarlet told her with a grain of salt. Still, her interest was piqued. “What, are they doing a news report or something? Some sort of circle-jerk of praise for being such good samaritans to us lot?”

Scarlet shook her head without any other reaction. “Nah, but a bunch of girls from your neck of the woods are volunteering, figured you might wanna put on a nice face in case you run into someone. Or maybe a paper bag over your head would do the trick,” she mused.

“Fuck my life,” Brooke groaned. “Wait for me?” she asked as she ducked back into her room. And yes, Scarlet was still there when she returned. “Too much?”

“Doubt it,” she hummed as they took the now familiar path from housing to the dining hall.

As luck would have it, most of the girls were college aged. It seemed like they were the kind that were doing this in lieu of a summer internship or something of the sort. Brooke was just about to get in line confidently when her tray dropped to the ground and her eyes went wide. “No fucking way.”

“Someone you know?”

There, in all her golden haired, tan, inked skin, toned bodied glory was Kameron Michaels. She looked just like Brooke remembered – give or take a new tattoo or two. And she was there as if it had been her job the whole time – serving the girls, smiling and making small talk – it was a stark contrast to the otherwise introverted personality she was once so familiar with.

“Yeah, something like that,” she exhaled once the initial shock had settled.

Scarlet tilted her head, observing the other girl. “You seem tense. Bad blood?”

“Not bad… It’s definitely awkward, though,” Brooke explained, muttering, “Fuck, I hope Vanessa doesn’t run into her,” under her breath.

“Too late.”

Sure enough, Vanessa had been on the line the whole time and was now face to face with Kameron. Brooke’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach and her throat felt tight. “You know that part in a romcom where everything suddenly goes really bad really fast?”

“Of course.”

“This is it.” Her voice was high and strained. “This is definitely it.”

#branjie #branjie fic #rpdr rpf

[viranlly]

I love New York. I love drinking. I abso-fuck*n-lutely love drinking in New York. I love it so much I went to New York just to drink - caution: this trip is not, and I repeat, not for everybody. I mean, what’s not to love about drinking in New York?! The endless supply of bars; the attractive, charming and talented bar staffs, and let’s not forget the beyond delicious libations they serve up ‘til 3 (even 4) AM on a Monday - astounding, especially when you come from a small town where last call is 12.45, if you’re lucky. Before our trip, we agreed on the ‘one-drink-one-bar-rule’ - a rule that we slowly abandoned as the night progressed. After what felt like a 12 hour commute from YVR, I arrived in Penn Station, starved and parched. A quick change and a touch up later, I finally made it to dinner at WildAir: a hip, trendy, wine-focused Lower East Side restaurant from the boys who opened the Michelin-starred Contra. The food menu is a fairly simple: tartare, mushrooms, clams, and allegedly out-of-this-world fried squid. The wine list, on the other hand, is extensive and edgy. If you’re into the whole natural, skin-contact wine situation like we are, you’ll probably see us there again with a bottle of Susucaru, snacking on some fried squid. A couple blocks down from Wildair, is Bar Goto. A cozy Japanese bar with a MOOD AF lighting, brought to you by Kenta Goto, a Pegu club alumn. The man himself made me a plum Sazerac the last time I was in. It easily became one of those cocktails you crave over and over again. So naturally, I got one, and another one for good measure. The whisky finally kicked in. With a little buzz and a much better mood, we made it to Death and Company and put our name on the list. Wait time was about an hour and 30 mins, enough for a cocktail or two at Angel’s Share – or so we thought. It’s another 45 mins wait for us, but luckily, they have a sister bar next door that’s much less crowded, a little brighter, and slightly more peaceful. Our new friend Ryan, who’s bartending that night made me a ‘Bewitched’, a riff on Old Fashioned with grilled and spiced truffle-infused whisky, cognac, Kokuto syrup, bitters and Kaffir lime leaf. It’s as decadent as it sounds. Stunning mixture of flavour, texture, and aroma on each indulgent sip. It was on point. It’s finally time for us to get to Death and Co. Their Manhattan’s been calling my name since September last year. Everything about Death and Co’s Manhattan is perfect: the bourbon, the vermouth, the ratio, the temperature, just everything. Say what you want (I actually got into an argument on this) but this, is the best Manhattan in Manhattan. The night spiralled down the rabbit hole after the next drink, a Boulevardier - I remember we had two more cocktails there, but I can’t, for the sake of me, remember what they were. I know there was gin, somewhere, somehow. I won’t bore you with the details of our challenging journey home so let’s skip to the morning after - two bottles of Pedialyte, two advils, and a hot shower later. Our mind was focused on a bougie-ish scrambled eggs and caviar at Buvette, and so was the whole West Village apparently. “50 minutes” - the cute European host said. Other people would typically take this time to walk around, maybe get an oat-mylk latte and a croissant. Since we’re no ordinary people, and it just so happened that their sister bar ‘Pisellino’ just opened down the street (what a coincidence), we kinda had to stop by for a drink. It’s 1145, and in front of me was a full, frosty glass (and a mini carafe) of dry martini with olive and twist on the side. What a perfect West Village morning: sunny, breezy, and boozy. By the time we sat down for breakfast, I was a little buzzed, again. But nothing a plate fluffy scrambled eggs and caviar, waffle with berry compotes, croque madame, and another bottle of bubbly rosé can’t fix. We then spent the afternoon roaming around Soho, shopping for all the things we convinced ourselves we desperately needed - Hello new Thom Browne fragrance! It’s a quarter to eight, we were dressed to the nines, ready for a 10/10 night out in New York City. Our plan to have a chic pre-dinner cocktail at Polo Bar was cancelled because someone (aka me) forgot to call and make a reso, and it was packed there. We had to settle for the King Cole Bar across the street where the drinks were meh and the price tag was awfully expensive (no more $25, bland, overly spicy Red Snapper for us) - I went in purely to relive my Andy Sachs’ Harry Potter unpublished manuscript moment and nothing more. Dinner tonight was at the hyped up Korean steakhouse Cote in Flatiron. The one Michelin-starred restaurant is all about high quality meat, delectable side dishes, and impressive wine list (Their beverage director is such a star!). Here’s the thing, if you can make a hanger steak taste so succulently delicious, you’re doing something right. That’s exactly what they do at Cote. The steak (aside from the Galbi) is prepared in the simplest fashion: heat and salt, no marinade, no spices, no nothing - it was perfect. The service was impeccable, the timing of each dish was flawless. With a tummy filled with steak, scallion salad, and rice, we decided to walk our way back to the West Village - seemed crazy far, but at that point, it was necessary. We made it to Dante, who recently crowned #1 bar in the world, so naturally it was very busy. The apero-focused bar is famous for their ‘Negroni Sessions’, which is impressive and can be adventurous. From the most classic, to the most unexpected variation with tequila, banana and pineapple shrub, they do it, and they do it well. If you’re in the mood to splurge (we weren’t lol), their vintage martini is absolutely worth the $65 price tag (the Plymouth gin from ‘60s alone is drool-worthy). I, decided to go for the Olivette: a savoury, brine-y, less serious cousin of the vesper. We then visited Katana Kitten. Another bar in the village that scored a spot in this year’s 50 Best Bars, number 14 to be exact. It’s a fun (the owner Masahiro Urushido is also quite a legend), non pretentious neighbourhood bar with playful and whimsical cocktails. I obviously started with a Hinoki martini, yet another variation of the vesper, while Handika was having a slushy, boozy, crushed-icy ‘dessert’ (didn’t count as a drink, apparently). It was difficult to have just one drink here: would you skip on a yuzu-sisho daiquiri? how about a genever-based negroni with umeshu? or a calpico swizzle? Ya I don’t think so either. We had one of each, plus a another sisho G&T, and the classic highball. YOLO. For the sake of settling our argument on the best Manhattan in Manhattan, I invited Doris to join us at Employees Only across the street from Katana Kitten, conveniently. By the time we saw each other, my Manhattan was gone, and I was drinking a Monkey 47 martini yet again. That’s about all I can recall from that night. Oh wait, there was a tequila shot and another Manhattan - the end. Monday morning - not enough Pedialyte, water nor Advil in the world to bring me back to life. I, somehow, managed to meet Patrick for coffee, had a bite of a mushroom toast, and stayed alive. I made it back to the hotel just in time for a much-needed nap before check out and a trip to Williamsburg for lunch. It was rough. I kept telling myself another lie of “I’m never drinking again” for the 30 minute subway ride to Peter Luger. Peter Luger is a classic: steak (yes, another one), burger, with a side of onion, tomatoes, and fries. We then gathered enough energy to get to DUMBO for a picture of two (hundreds) before saying goodbye to each other - sad. I zipped back downtown for a meeting. A VERY EXCITING MEETING. I got the pleasure to visit the Bon Appetit test kitchen, thanks for the my lovely host Chris Morocco (Yes - we’re friends now HA!). it’s only appropriate that I wore my ‘Thirsty for Andy’ t-shirt - Andy was there, and we obvs. bonded over my OOTD. Claire was doing her ‘Gourmet Makes’, Carla was there, Molly too, Oh I also got to meet Alex Delany and Em Scultz too. It’s a casual Monday afternoon at BA test kitchen. It’s now cocktail hour and the one man I got to meet this time was the man everyone needs in their life: mister Steven Huynh himself. An instagram-turned-real-life-friend that I’ve known for 7 years. We met for the first time that night and we got along over dry martini-inspired cocktails and crudité at Thomas Keller’s TAK room (in the Hudson Yards). Sitting at the bar at TAK room feels luxurious but not intimidating. The bar team was friendly, interactive, and passionate about amaro. They even took us downstairs to check out the vintage amaro collections at their speakeasy, Bookbinder. After a snack break, we visited David Chang’s new restaurant Kawi downstairs. Steven had a pineapple rum daiquiri, I, had a ‘New Fashioned’ - a play of the classic Old Fashioned with coconut-washed Japanese whisky, sencha and bitters. It was delicious. The buzz is back on, and I felt so much better (HA!). Our next stop was The Nomad Hotel - our absolute favorite. We felt like we’re home right away, especially after a delicious Monkey 47 martini (Nobody’s counting, right?). Zanib joined us later that night for a negroni, and of course, I had to refresh my almost empty drink. Another friend Erik joined us for one more drink. Things started to get blurry real quick, I recall there was a Manhattan, a Brooklyn, a rum cocktail of some sort, fried chicken, and a Macallan 12 at one point before we’re back in the car for a nightcap at Blacktail. A tiki-focused sister bar of Dead Rabbit. We’re welcomed by a pink slushy daiquiri, and the bartender made me a delicious, stirred rum cocktail to sip on - don’t ask what it’s called. I finally tapped out and made my way back to Brooklyn. With close to zero voice, I got to Newark and flew back to Vancouver via. Denver - yes, I made a stop to Death and Co for a Sazerac-esque cocktail called the Uncanny Valley and a lobster ceviche. Here I am two weeks later, still recovering from the worst sore throat of my life, slowly getting my voice back (still can’t hit Mariah’s note tho :s). Will I do it again? ABSOLUTELY! Thanks for the amazing time New York - until next time!

#New York #Travel #Travelblogger #Imbibe #cocktail #cocktails #travelblog #NYC #Bonappetitmag #Bon Appetit #Vancouver #Vancouver Blogger #Dante #Death and Co #UES #popular #radar #iphone #iphoneonly #fashion #food #food blogger #drinks #foodblog #menswear #mensfashion

[artificialqueens]

Bad Girls Club (Branjie) Chapter 5 - Joley

ao3 link

[October 8th, 2017]

Brooke had been staring at her bedroom door for over fifteen minutes now. She was trying to will her legs to work, will her arms to open the damn door. There had been weeks of anticipation – she had practiced what she was going to say in front of the mirror dozens of times every night. It was much more comfortable to perform intricate dances in front of a full auditorium.

Fuck it, this was it.

“Are you busy, Mom?” Brooke’s voice was meek as she poked her head around the corner into the living room.

The muffled noises of the television silenced. “No, come in.”

For the most part, Brooke Lynn wasn’t afraid of her mother. They generally kept to themselves unless otherwise necessary and cohabited perfectly adequately. But this? This was entirely different. It would change the entire course of her life drastically, possibly for the worse in the short term. Still, she knew she would regret it if she didn’t say it at all.

Brooke fidgeted with her fingers; eyes trained on the floor. “You know how I told you I didn’t want to go out with your friend’s son because he’s an anarchist?” She didn’t wait for her mother to respond. “He’s not. At least… not as far as I know. The truth is…” Her throat tightened, and her heart started to race. “I’m not attracted to him. Or any guy. I-I-I… I like girls. I’m gay, Mom.”

The ticking of the clock in the otherwise silent room felt like a bomb counting down to her world collapsing around her. Brooke Lynn needed her mom to say something, anything. “Mommy?”

Her mother sighed. “I suppose this is my fault. Perhaps if you’d spent less time with your nanny, you wouldn’t have this… misplaced need for affection.”

Brooke swallowed thickly and shook her head. “This has nothing to do with Kyle. It’s just who I am. A-And I want you to still accept me.” Her eyes welled with tears and the strength to keep the dam from breaking was dissipating with every passing moment.

“Well I don’t really have any choice but to do that now do I?” she scoffed, then added “these days they call that child abuse,” flippantly. “You’re still my daughter, Brooke Lynn. Now please be a dear and go fetch me my wine.”

“Which glass?”

“Oh no, just bring me the bottle.”

[Present Day]

“No, I don’t got no fucking wine. Where d’you think I’d keep it? In a cooler with some caviar? Look, do you want the vodka or not?”

Brooke nodded and handed the girl a twenty-dollar bill. “Yes please,” she mumbled and exchanged it for a sixteen-ounce bottle of Smirnoff. Luckily it was a rare chilly evening on campus, allowing her to smuggle the bottle in her sweatshirt (while looking over her shoulder every ten seconds) all the way back to her room, everyone she passed none the wiser.

Luckier still, the room was empty when she returned to it, allowing her to make a cocktail of vodka and fruit punch and pour the artificially red mixture into a metallic water bottle. There was a split second’s hesitation.

Having never been drunk on vodka before, Brooke Lynn didn’t know what to expect from the experience. As it turned out, it was brief euphoria and dizzy bliss followed by becoming utter comatose. It was probably for the best – to be dead to the world by the time Vanessa returned. She wasn’t ready to talk to her – she wasn’t even entirely certain why she was so upset, other than it was obviously her fault, apparently. And she felt guilty – it pained her to be the reason why her sometimes-lover was hurt.

The next morning, Vanessa was woken up by the sound of Brooke Lynn groaning. “Damn you really hungover, huh?” she observed, noting that maybe karma had laid a hand in this. “Take some Advil and get ready. You ain’t getting outta class cause you lack self-control.”

“Ugh. So mean,” Brooke grumbled and pulled the pillow over her head.

“That’s life.”

Vanessa was dressed by the time Brooke Lynn got herself out of bed. “How the hell did you get that shit in here anyway?”

Brooke rubbed her eyes as she pulled herself together. “Bought it off some girl. Said she knows a guy. And that I ask too many questions,” she recalled. “It worked though. Got me good.”

“So, you just gonna drink til you feel better?”

“That’s the plan.”

[November 20th, 2017]

Brooke caught her breath as the front door shut behind her. “Okay, we’re in the clear,” she exhaled, waving the wine bottle around like a trophy and parading it in front of her as they walked up to Detox’s bedroom.

“You sure your mom’s not gonna notice she’s a bottle short?” Her eyes scanned the label with casual interest before setting it down on her end table while Brooke Lynn shifted to sit comfortably on the bed.

After a couple of moments of struggling, Brooke dislodged the cork from the bottle and took a swig. “Nah, it’s like taking one jellybean from the whole bag,” she reasoned. “Besides, it’s not like I took an expensive bottle, this is a dessert wine.”

“So, what would you call a breakfast wine?”

“The first sign of a drinking problem.”

Detox laughed and shoved her, narrowly avoiding a wine spill on her duvet. She then snatched the bottle from Brooke to down a long swig. “She still not down with the gay thing?”

There was a wince and a moment of tensing up before Brooke sighed and lay down. “If you call ‘a mounting resentment due in part to the blow in social standing from rampant gossip mixed with casual homophobia’ not being down with the gay thing, then yes.”

“You know, just ‘yes’ would’ve sufficed,” she huffed, then her expression softened. “I’m sorry shit’s still rocky between you guys. I’m sure it’ll get better eventually. You talk to Miss West about it?”

Brooke reclaimed the wine and her finger traced around the mouth of the bottle and she stared into it, as if the answer to her problems rested at the bottom. “Yeah, but she always wants to do something about it. Her heart’s in the right place but I’m not always looking for a solution. I just wanna get things off my chest sometimes.”

And her friend listened intently, nodding slowly. “Maybe you should just tell her that. Use your words like a big girl and then we can celebrate with wine instead.”

[Present Day]

Brooke poked her head into Nina’s classroom. “You got a minute?” She let herself in before getting verbal confirmation and sat herself at the edge of the teacher’s desk.

“I was actually hoping you’d come by sooner rather than later.” Nina confessed casually, not wanting to ambush her. But immediately, she saw the suspicion and hesitance in her student’s expression. “I know you were hungover in class. Think you’re okay to tell me why?”

And Brooke Lynn appreciated the way she never pressured her into divulging more than she was ready to. “I had…a falling out with Vanessa. I don’t know exactly what I said, but I’m sure it was my fault,” she sighed, “because it always fucking is.”

Nina reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come on, you know that’s not true,” she gently assured. “Have you talked to her about it?”

Brooke bit her lip and shook her head. “I don’t know how.”

She tugged on the teenager’s hand until they made eye contact. “Listen to me, Brooke Lynn, even though I know you don’t want to hear it.” Nina waited until she had her full attention. “You need to learn how to let your guard down, even if it’s just one baby step at a time. I know you like Vanessa a whole lot – more than you’re willing to admit, I’m sure. I’m not saying you have to put your heart on the line in some like, dramatic gesture, but I think you’d be opening yourself up to a great deal of happiness if you let yourself feel.”

As hard as it was to admit – in fact she may never do so outright – Brooke knew Nina was right. Of course, that didn’t mean anything in regards to her ability to actually follow through on that sort of thing. It just was not in her nature – it wasn’t in the nature of anyone in her family. “Maybe I can try…”

“After all, we don’t want a repeat of last time, right?”

Brooke yanked herself away abruptly, face flushing red. “Don’t… don’t talk about that,” and before Nina could respond, she turned on her heel and briskly left the classroom. The last thing she needed was to reopen old scars.

[March 2nd, 2018]

“You know, I’ve tolerated a lot of your weird post-outing behavior shit, but I’m not giving you a free pass on this one.” Detox clicked her tongue and shook her head. “How the fuck do you have the gall to flake out on someone like Kameron Michaels?”

Brooke gave an exaggerated eyeroll and popped a couple grapes in her mouth, eating them before answering. “It wasn’t even like, an actual date. Relax.”

Detox stared at her incredulously. “You guys have been all up on each other for like, almost two weeks. But as soon as she wants to go out with you, you drop off the face of the fucking earth! And I’d understand if it was pretty much anyone else but come on bitch – she can flip a straight girl in her sleep. Not a lot of public-school girls can pull that off around here.”

“Then she won’t miss me,” she shrugged flippantly, looking off into the distance instead of her eyes drifting anywhere near her friend.

“How’s convincing yourself of that going?”

“Swimmingly, thanks for asking.”

Detox scoffed and grabbed a handful of grapes from Brooke’s bowl. “You’re so full of shit,” she said with her mouth full.

Brooke responded with an indignant huff. “Maybe so. But it works.” The definition of working was undoubtedly skewed, but she lacked any desire to address it. She could take care of herself and not get hung up on a fling – or she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.

And as it turned out, believing it had proven to be a near impossible hurdle to overcome and she was suffering the consequences of her own denial. But there was no way she was going to turn to Detox when this realization dawned on her – so she went to the only other person she knew she could trust.

“You look like you’ve had a rough week. Honestly, if you hadn’t come in, I’d have sought you out myself. I’m worried about you, Brooke Lynn.” Nina’s tone was gentle and kind, but there was a heavy layer of concern paired with it. And it was sincere – she had always made it her duty to take care of her students’ emotional health – especially the ones in the LGBTQ+ community, because she knew exactly what these frightened, wide-eyed girls were going through.

After some uncomfortable fidgeting and shifting around, Brooke nodded. “What happened was… I was seeing this girl casually – like, I thought we were just having fun, you know? Then she asked me on a date, and I said yes because it would’ve just been too rude not to. But then I bailed last minute, and I did apologize, and she said it was okay but… I just feel awful.”

To Nina’s credit, she was a naturally great listener, which, unsurprisingly, proved to be a massive strength in her career. She nodded attentively but never tried to interrupt or talk over her – it was imperative that students like Brooke Lynn saw her as someone they could freely and openly talk about their problems with. “Well, let’s start here – how do you feel about her?”

The first time Brooke had gone to Nina for help, she had found it jarring – it had been the first time any adult had expressed any interest in hearing about her struggles – so of course she had been keeping them all bottled up. But that day she had spent nearly two hours after the final bell rang sitting in that classroom and pouring her heart out. As much of a relief as it had been, she was left feeling nauseous the rest of that evening. Clearly, doing that with any sort of regularity has posed an issue, which is why she replied to the question with a shrug and a ‘I don’t know’ noise.

Nina didn’t buy it. “I think you do know.”

Brooke sighed in the way one would expect a pouty teenager would. “I… Yeah, I guess I like her. But I know I don’t want to date her. I don’t want a girlfriend yet.”

“Do you think it’s actually because you don’t want to? Or because you think you can’t?”

Another shrug and ‘I don’t know’ sound.

“You’ve got to work with me here, Brooke.”

This time, Brooke was at least trying her best. “It just seems like too much. I got enough going on and I feel like a relationship is just too much for me.”

“That’s a good start, you should tell her that.”

[Present Day]

“You might wanna make sure you look extra nice before you go into the dining hall today.”

Brooke had quickly learned to take everything Scarlet told her with a grain of salt. Still, her interest was piqued. “What, are they doing a news report or something? Some sort of circle-jerk of praise for being such good samaritans to us lot?”

Scarlet shook her head without any other reaction. “Nah, but a bunch of girls from your neck of the woods are volunteering, figured you might wanna put on a nice face in case you run into someone. Or maybe a paper bag over your head would do the trick,” she mused.

“Fuck my life,” Brooke groaned. “Wait for me?” she asked as she ducked back into her room. And yes, Scarlet was still there when she returned. “Too much?”

“Doubt it,” she hummed as they took the now familiar path from housing to the dining hall.

As luck would have it, most of the girls were college aged. It seemed like they were the kind that were doing this in lieu of a summer internship or something of the sort. Brooke was just about to get in line confidently when her tray dropped to the ground and her eyes went wide. “No fucking way.”

“Someone you know?”

There, in all her golden haired, tan, inked skin, toned bodied glory was Kameron Michaels. She looked just like Brooke remembered – give or take a new tattoo or two. And she was there as if it had been her job the whole time – serving the girls, smiling and making small talk – it was a stark contrast to the otherwise introverted personality she was once so familiar with.

“Yeah, something like that,” she exhaled once the initial shock had settled.

Scarlet tilted her head, observing the other girl. “You seem tense. Bad blood?”

“Not bad… It’s definitely awkward, though,” Brooke explained, muttering, “Fuck, I hope Vanessa doesn’t run into her,” under her breath.

“Too late.”

Sure enough, Vanessa had been on the line the whole time and was now face to face with Kameron. Brooke’s heart sunk to the pit of her stomach and her throat felt tight. “You know that part in a romcom where everything suddenly goes really bad really fast?”

“Of course.”

“This is it.” Her voice was high and strained. “This is definitely it.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #teen au #bad girls club #joley

[dewbond-blog]

Favember: Fate Stay Night’s Rin Tohsaka: The Tsundere with the Iron Will

When it comes to anime, there is no greater stock archetype than the Tsundere. If you aren’t aware of what that means, the Tsundere is a type of (usually) female character who presents herself as cold, stand-offish and prone to anger, but behind her mask is a kind, warm and loving person. In terms of romance, they will often be dismissive and hostile to their love interest, but deep down harbor deep and loving affection towards them.

Simply put, if you have ever heard a variation of the phrase: “It’s not like I like you or anything” then you are probably seeing some type of Tsundere.

A fair criticism of the Fate Franchise is that most of its main cast are just stock archetypes and that despite being affected by the story, they don’t really do much to set them apart from the vast sea of other anime males and females. Shirou is the plucky young hero, Sakura is the quiet shy girl, Saber is the strong and duty-bound fighter and so forth. All of these traits have been done in other, possibly better animes. Now while I would argue that Fate does try to wrap these characters with depth and complex emotional stories, I must admit that after watching every single piece of Fate media there is, the cast of Fate Stay Night still feel very…basic.

Now I would argue, as I have done in the past with this years’ How NOT to Summon a Demon Lord, that basic can be good, even great. Sometimes just playing within your limits and doing what you know can lead to some truly great work. As I once heard: “You can eat all the caviar you want, but sometimes you just need ham and eggs.” I think it succeeds in part because it doesn’t try to veer too much outside its comfort zone. Yet from within that zone, they can create wonderfully memorable characters and that is no clearer than with who we are talking about today. After the cut let’s take a dive into Fate Stay Night‘s second leading lady: Rin Tohsaka.

(SPOILERS FOR FATE ZERO, AND ALL THREE FATE STAY NIGHT ROUTES, ESPECIALLY HEAVEN’S FEEL)

Rin Tohsaka, while not my favorite character in the series (three guesses who that is), I do believe she is its best character, and her role in all three routes of Fate Stay Night presents her as someone with the inner strength and iron will that in my mind, has yet to be surpassed. Simply put, I think Rin Tohsaka is one of the strongest female characters ever written in the Anime, ever.

Rin is a Tsundere, a pure, authentic, no holds bar 100% concentrated Tsundere. She’s is so much this archetype that she is actually both a Tsundere and a Reverse Tsundere. There are many times at the start of Unlimited Blade Works where the trope of the Tsundere is reversed, and Rin is quiet, calm and loving on the outside, but is rash, loud and obnoxious in private, and that is funny to see when most of the Blade Works route is Rin having to struggle with her growing feelings for Shirou. All of their conversations are laced with those classic tsundere tropes and every time she tries to help Shirou, she is compelled to let him know it’s for any reason but her attraction to him. All of this is basic anime storytelling and in the almost fourteen years since Fate Stay Night first arrived, you can see that in comparison to other characters of her type, Rin feels very basic, even in her other alternative universe incarnations. In the almost decade and a half since her introduction, other animes have just done her tsundere character better.

But what makes Rin stand out so much to me, is that both within the world of Fate and outside of it, Rin Tohsaka is a character of unbelievable inner strength and fortitude. Like every other character in Fate, Rin suffers from a tragic past with her father being brutally murdered, and her mother abused and driven insane by the actions of her uncle. However, unlike the other characters, Rin shows no outward signs of being affected by it. She grieved yes, but compared to the other characters Rin does not seem to be haunted by the trauma of her past and by all accounts has accepted it as part of her and made peace with it.

The other main characters of Fate Stay Night all suffer from unresolved issues with their past. Shirou Emiya reels from the guilt of being the lone survivor of the great fire. Saber is consumed by self-doubt and a lack of confidence in herself, and there isn’t enough therapy in the world to deal with the trauma and horrors inflicted upon Sakura Matou. Rin, having suffered losses on the same level as most of them (except Sakura, holy FUCK), she is the only character whose past does not haunt her, at least from what the viewer sees. She is strong, independent, and would rather move forward into the future than be stuck dwelling on the past. In fact, her whole reason for fighting the Holy Grail War is to prove herself. She does not seek the grail for personal gain like many of the other cast members do, only so she can prove to both her and her father that she has the ability to do so. There is no desire to recreate herself into something great or attempt to rewrite the mistakes of the past. There is just a raw drive and will.

Furthermore, as each of the routes plays out and the Holy Grail War devolves into chaos and insanity, Rin always remembers to keep her head, despite suffering personal betrayal, loss and the realities of what is happening around her. She is not an emotionless robot by any means, she reacts to everything as one would expect of her, but Rin never feels hopeless or falls into despair, she deals with the situation at hand and pushes on forward, ever forward. It is only in Heaven’s Feel, where Rin is confronted with the truth that she never once attempted to rescue Sakura, despite it being well in her power to do, that she shows any hint of regret and sorrow, and this is after she had resolved herself to killing Sakura for the sake of everyone else.

This carries on even in the alternative Fate series, In the anime Fate/kalied liner Prisma Illya, Rin is more of a mentor and big sister to the young Illyasviel. She admits the fault in thrusting the task of capturing the servants onto an innocent girl was wrong and doesn’t argue when Illya has a moment of crisis and wants to quit. Even after that arc has past and Rin remains steadfastly supportive of Illya and maintains that strong strength of characters even if she is portrayed more comically.

In the world of Fate, the characters are often defined by the horrors of their past, but it is Rin Tohsaka alone who stands above it all. Despite being well within her rights not to be. her immense inner strength, her drive to move forward, and an iron will all shape Rin into one of the most put together and strongest characters I have seen in all my years as an anime viewer. In the west, we often criticize the “strong female character” as lazy writing and an easy way to score points with certain viewers, but Rin is a STRONG character who happens to be female and is an example I will always point to when it looking for an example of a well done female character, and anime have MANY to choose from.

Other anime and manga may have done it better, but Fate Stay Night in my eyes did it first.

#Fate #Fatevember #Fate Stay Night #unlimited blade works #heaven's feel #Rin Tohsaka #shirou emiya #sakura matou #Anime opening #Anime ending #type-moon #ufotable #tsundere

[avaliveradio]

KNG JMZ Moves Forward and Goes Hard on New Hip Hop Release W A L K

WALK is about moving forward towards any aspirations or goals you may have. Go for broke and do so with all the experiences you've accumulated thus far. 

Artist: KNG JMZ

New Release: W.A.L.K.

Genre: Hip Hop

Sounds like: : Juvenile, Ludacris, E40, Migos, Future, 2 Chainz, Jim Jones

Located in: : Winnipeg, Manitoba

https://open.spotify.com/track/4YjoCmb6Z01q2ceogCvILq?si=dc26fd0b8f66477c

KNG JMZ is a brand that encourages people to be true to themselves. To do, and be all that is authentic and genuine to self, establishes that regal and real quality within us all. This song started with the beat, which I produced on the iMachine 2 utilizing the Pure Drip Drum Kit. The beat was inspired by Peewee Longway and Money Man's track "Impressive" off their 2019 Album "Long Money". I was bumping this shit for the longest time and still fuck with it now lol. The way them drum hit, coupled with the melodic whistle type highs, and the voice box drops spoke to me lol I fuk with it heavy. Anyway, that's where the inspiration for the production came from.

I was sitting on this beat for a while tho, mainly because you can't just put any type of shit on a beat and expect it to pop. And to me this beat was fire. One early morning, perhaps 3AM, after a lil bit of dro, lol, the hook just came to me while vibin to the beat... and the shit came to me with a lil bit of Migos flavor lol, and that basically how W.A.L.K. (With All Life's Knowledge) came about.

The song is about what the title expresses. Just move forward towards any aspirations or goals you may have, but do so with all the experiences you've accumulated thus far. Go for broke. Go hard, or go home type shit, and do so with all life's knowledge. W.A.L.K. in your excellence, W.A.L.K. in your perseverance. Take pride that you've made it this far and still going hard.

My direction is just to produce, and keep on with that quality over quantity type of music. Shit that empowers people. shit that assists people in realizing how dope they are and they are the ones that establish their value. Never do you need validation from another Muthafuka. Just keep it real with yourself and keep shit moving.

I'm still just attempting to get my foot in the door and be heard. I have plans of doing a video for each of my tracks in the future, I also hope to establish a clothing line and possibly a media company. But for now, I'm just focused on making quality music.

Nothing's changed from the last time we spoke lol. The short version is I grew up drawn to the art and culture of hip hop and dabbled in it with a few of my peers. Some who I still hold it down with to this day. I never took it seriously really, shit was just a hobby as I was growing up learning these worldly ways. As I got older I dabbled in other areas of the industry, such as talent buying for a small company, writing articles for a hip hop publication, and even having a stint as a DJ on a local radio station. all the while still writing raps and fuking with beats. I just said fuk it in 2021 and started releasing shit for fun. It's the creative aspect that I enjoy and the fulfillment you get when some dope shit comes together. My main inspirations are my experiences, family, everyday life, nature, random artists, basically, anything that peaks my attention at that given moment.

LINKS: Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/2lsGmvjuEbrUrsfp5bd0HQ?si=skfuHOtwQ7K7-L0DJztFHQ Twitter: https://twitter.com/TruKngJmz Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NinetySixEntertainment/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kngjmz999/ Apple Music: https://music.apple.com/ca/artist/kng-jmz/1561377019 Radio Edit Link: https://www.dropbox.com/s/1m9ld6q54pzivt0/W.A.L.K.%20RADIO%20EDIT.wav?dl=0

Playlists

Groundbreaking Hip Hop Next Generation

Groundbreaking Rap and Trap Caviar picks: Next Generation Hip Hop is here with some great new singles from West Coast, East Coast, Trap Rappers. 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06gwejs45LDr3Hbw67p3Qn?si=3fe97c7ca4da40de

New Hip Hop Burning the Charts

Hip Hop's finest artists burning up the charts with trending new music. 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5fHaQnVJU3ApkDRkz53dJA?si=f22022620fff4698

New Indie Music Release Radar

Take all the newest Indie music singles from our broadcast with you on the go. This list updates daily with brand new releases. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/56otky5R0otGcyVdIBt4jx?si=d60751452f004e66

The 100 | Fresh New Indie Songs 

The indie music scene is overflowing with fresh new music, follow our daily updates to discover what's happening on the Indie Music Scene.  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3beDUCLBnklkqoe4scKjY9?si=50c145efaa584eeb

Top 50 Indie Music Songwriters 

Indie musicians offer honesty in their lyrics speaking on a wide range of topics. Discover some brand new songwriters from all over the world on this ever evolving playlist.  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4eSH6u0694MwgpParnXp0G?si=2f7f050ad2d84715

New Music Monday Reviews:

Every Monday music curator Jacqueline Jax reviews new music for her playlists. Listen to who made the first cut. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1yvjvUqKQvk3Wtq0Lb14gD?si=d60cd46df3a14d57

PRESS

Twitter 50k:  https://twitter.com/avaliveradio/status/1484696009972273154?s=20

#KNG JMZ #canada #hiphop

[queenbabyqueenbaby]

184

I just learned that the wealthy residents of London have been choosing to live West for almost 300 years, because the wind and currents of the river mostly blow the odours away from them

I learned Burlington Arcade was built at Lord Cavendish’s request in the 19th century because pedestrians kept throwing rancid oyster shells over his garden wall at Burlington House. This address was sold to the government a few years after, renovated with “high Victorian cruelty”. This is where I went to art school for three years and the description checks out

Christie’s was where the paraphernalia of the Napoleonic wars were sold, and the area had some of the first pavements and traffic that could pass both ways. Lamps were exciting and there were a lot of shops selling them. Some illiterate sailors visiting the French ambassador’s home mistook the word “concord” for “conquered” and became upset

I learn that the line between pleasure-seeker and protester in West London was / is very fine. Spending so much time there from 2015 to 2018, it’s easy to be both appalled at and seduced by the luxury of Piccadilly being rubbed in your face. I don’t remember a day when there wasn’t a group of placard-holders demanding we save the dolphins, but by the same token, there were always tourists in the caviar house

I learn that in 1912 suffragettes broke every shop window from the Strand to Regent St. They fucked Liberty’s up. Somebody wrote at the time how sad it was to see women destroy their own shrines. Selfridges was spared because its namesake was sort of a feminist

I learn some money from theatre on Drury Lane was funnelled into political campaigns. There was a theatre fire despite an iron safety curtain and the theatre’s owner drank on the street, remarking that he just wanted to enjoy a glass of wine by his own fireside

I suspect the West End in Victorian times was as close as England ever got to Vegas, but even in our hedonism are striations of logic, and maybe logic splits the difference with delicious, emotion-blunting humour

I would like to spend the next 6 months in the past, oxymoronic as that is. I’m certain my neighbourhood would have smelled awful, and I’m certain I would’ve lost at least two children during childbirth by now with nobody to console me but a pre-approved husband I hate who is riddled with venereal disease because I stopped wanting him to enter me shortly after our nuptials

I know I’m anxious when I start a handful of things - paintings, songs, writing, reading, thoughts, fantasies, meals - but don’t finish them. I watch the pile of unfinished business stack up and let it taunt me. I am not, nor will I ever be, what the Victorians called a “pleasure seeker”

[theedblog]

Ready to burn your new LeBron jerseys ye good folk of Cleveland? Because The King is leaving again. What’s that? That had nothing to do with him leaving? Oh..you were just very cold..well..

WELL HE’S LEAVING AGAIN ANYWAY! Whether it’s this year or next, LBJ will be taking his talents somewhere. I’ll give you a hint...it’s somewhere warmer...so literally anywhere else probably. I asked a few local experts where the King will be taking his talents this time.

Rodgers McAfee says..

If he leaves for the west, probably San Antonio. Then he can beat Golden State in the Western Conference Finals and the league finals will be a lock. Popovich is the draw. You really think LeBron is gonna be coached by Luke Walton??? Naw. I really don’t know that he’ll leave the east because he’s at least a lock for the finals wherever he goes in the east. The question is where do some of his buddies land? CP3, Melo, Wade, even Paul George and Blake Griffin. Those are the things that will peak my interest I’m sure he isn’t thinking about any of this right now. I wouldn’t be. I’d be getting fucked up on a private island or a yacht or a yacht on a private island or anything other than thinking about basketball 3 days after losing in the finals.

Eric Olson says..

Cleveland is a barren wasteland. Where did Bron Bron go when left the first time? MIAMI, one of the most un Ohio places in the country. And of all the houses he owns where does live in the offseason? Los Angeles. LeBron has caviar tastes and he ain’t tryin to chill in no damn San Antonio with no boring ass Kawhi and a bunch of foreigners (he will spend time with some Foreigns, but that's a different thing and he’s married, so neither here nor there). To be fair, I’m not sure LeBron is a good culture fit with the Spurs. Of course the Spurs would bend over backwards to take him because he is a superhero in normal human disguise, but that doesn’t mean they’re excited about dealing with all the headaches that come with bringing the center of the basketball universe on your team. On the court it be a beautiful game, off the court is a media circus, the trivial questions after every loss, and the catering to LeBron’s stardom. All of it sucks and nothing about it is “The Spurs Way”. I say he goes to LA. The real question is Clippers or Lakers? Both have pro’s and con’s. I think it comes down to Magic using that charm to get LeBron to fux with the vision. Can Magic convince Bron they’re going to get Paul George and Russell Westbrook? Is that team enough to beat the Warriors? Does Bron want to unite the Banana boat squad? More importantly, which team will piss off Dan Gilbert the most? Fuck Dan Gilbert.

Dan Weik says..

Nah, Phoenix, dog. Booker is the floor spacer he always needed. Plenty of athletes to play defense. Plus the best medical staff in the biz. Or back to Miami. Fuck it.

The ED says..

He’ll pull the ultimate power move and go to Golden State where he replaces Steph with Ray Allen.

#nba nba offseason LeBron James basketball sports

[ecotone99]

[MF] Dave

Written by Loren D. Davis

--I-- His A Street condo lay in disarray. The vast space that once remained pleasantly empty was now strewn with empty whiskey bottles, cigarette butts, and ashes. Strong odors pervaded the air, most likely originating from the cocktail of human secretions expelled during the night of revelry. Dozens of naked men and women slept atop one another in scattered piles upon the floor. Dave stepped out to the balcony, pulling out the last cigarette in the carton. He lit it as he felt the weight of his self-loathing sink in once more. Or maybe that was just the hangover. A gentle gust of wind rustled the thick brown hair on his head. The February air was unforgiving, and the sky was overcast to match his mood. His mind had been troubled for some time. Lunging headfirst into sensory overload was his first reflex amid his sorrow, but the booze, drugs, and women only numbed the pain for a few hours a day at most. These comforts always left him feeling worse the next day than the last. The firm would have to do without him today. In spite of his young age, Dave had managed to rack up a fair amount of wealth working in the Financial District. From the large windows that spanned most of the side of the floor he owned, he could see the building where he worked. His visitors had often told him that he had the best view in the whole city, complete with the bay. He lived a comfortable life, yet his career seemed to have carried more significance back when the fruit of his labor went to much more vital objects than Scotch and hookers. He understood that the lifestyle so many of his peers relished--a lavish life of licentiousness that he too had sought immaturely when his income was more modest--was not as great as it had been made out to be. In his view, no man is truly essential. After all, how is man any different than tiny ants? Man is but a pest and a nuisance. In fact, man is worse than an ant. Ants are unwavering in their loyalty to the greater fabric of their existence. Man is arrogant yet parasitic in nature. Maybe it was the deep loneliness he felt. He was surrounded by hundreds of acquaintances that took no issue with partying with him for days in a row. They partook in the many commodities he had to offer, but none of them were true friends. The connection he had with them would always be superficial at best. How could they truly understand? Half the people that partied with him were the spoiled offspring of the world’s elite who had thus far been tightly guarded and now made use of their newly-found freedom with eagerness. Others were higher class junkies, escorts, and cold-blooded businessmen who were only there to get their fix.

--II-- He had not spoken to her for over five months. That last call was about his son’s birthday party invitation. His ex-wife, Victoria, had married an executive and moved to a posh suburb of San Jose, California. From the few encounters he had with Victoria’s new husband, Bill, he had gathered that his two kids felt comfortable with him. Bill had an adolescent daughter, and Victoria spoke endlessly about how great he was as a father. Dave did not talk to his kids much. He knew he should do more as their father, but he still felt guilty for having been so distant when they all lived under one roof. There was a time when he felt that they stood in his way. That man-child just wanted to have fun. He held little regard for whether Victoria would continue to tolerate his behavior.

--III-- To whoever the fuck reads this: More than likely, you don’t give a shit. I know you won’t agree with this decision, but that’s a good thing. Most people aren’t supposed to agree with the poor fuck that shoots his brains out, hangs himself, or leaps off a building to his death. What a fucked up world we’d live in if most people agreed with that. Just because I’m fucked up doesn’t mean I think other people can’t enjoy life. I guess I just don’t think it makes a difference that I do. The way I see it, life is an acquired taste like good caviar, or a rare Bordeaux. They’re expensive, and incredibly sought after by some, but that doesn’t mean everyone will indulge in them. I’m simply not impressed. So, to my son Jonathan, any my daughter, Abigail: You could not have a better mother. Always love and respect her. I’m sorry our story did not play out differently. I wish you the best. To Victoria: I hope you live a plentiful life filled with happiness.

Dave left the letter on his marble kitchen countertop, held underneath the knife block. He locked the bottom doorknob before he walked out his front door into the hallway. He walked slowly to the elevator and stared at it for about three minutes, contemplating what he intended to do.

--IV-- “Can you talk?” Dave had texted Victoria four days before. No answer.

--V-- The stairs seemed to be a more fitting vehicle to reach his destination. Elegant even. So he went up eleven stories to the top of the building. His journey up the never-ending flights of stairs was laborious, but it afforded him the luxury of reflecting on the various choices he had made throughout his life, serving only to strengthen his resolve. He gained deeper conviction of the futility and utter insignificance of his contributions. It became increasingly difficult to breathe, and Dave felt that his eyes were suddenly enveloped in a dense veil. He could no longer see clearly. Dave stopped mid-step, carefully patting the ground in front and around him to set himself down to rest. A cold hand gently cupped Dave’s shoulder in a gesture of pity. Dave knew. “I guess I should keep going.” Slowly, Dave was guided up the remaining steps, until he came up to the door that exited to the rooftop. Dave clutched the doorknob firmly, twisting it while pushing the door with the weight of his body to force it against the assailing winds. With heavy footsteps, Dave made his way to the edge where solid ground came to its end. He paused to inhale deeply.

--VI-- The sun is rising on the West Coast. Victoria awakens for her morning jog. Today, she runs along the beaches of the Northern Californian coast, a peaceful retreat away from the usual noise of the city. Her husband had decided to take the family on a weekend camping trip at a park upstate for a short break. The morning air was cool and crisp, but not unbearable. Victoria searched through her iPhone for a suitable playlist for her routine. A barrage of notifications went off as she entered an area with reception. Deep in the park, there was no service, a blessing for those looking to disconnect from the incessant noise of the modern world. Among the four or five text messages she received was one from Dave. She called him, but there was no answer. She called again. Still no answer. Again. No answer. Relenting, she carried on with her jog.

--VII- The picture of the building’s height could not dissuade Dave from his mission. He was blissfully unaware of the distance he would ultimately travel. He smiled with mild trepidation as he stretched his arms. The winds wrapped his arms and legs like thick frigid ribbons, pulling him downward with force. He floated with a sensation he imagined resembled a feather as it glides gracefully to the ground. He heard a distinct ring in the distance. Was this the sound of death approaching rapidly? The singing celestial hosts beckoning him to respite? As the sound grew nearer, his peace was swiftly seized and replaced with profound doubt and remorse. It was his phone ringing on the twenty-ninth floor. He was sure of it. But he was helpless. If he could have grown wings in that very instant, he would have, but it could not be. The serenity with which he had embarked on his trajectory had quickly been replaced with terror. He was afraid of his impending doom, and he wanted nothing else than to be rescued from this torment and dread. What had once appeared to only take a few breaths to accomplish seemed now to take an eternity to complete. With every passing moment he lived, with every breath he drew, he further regretted the step he had taken. He was afflicted not only by the gargantuan weight of the shortcomings that had propelled him to this state, but by the end he could not manage to see. He yearned for the finale to his pain, but it would not arrive. It may have only taken a few seconds, or even minutes, for Dave to exit his anguish, but he would have experienced it over the course of years in that reality which existed in his mind. Time was very much stretched out for Dave on account of the path he chose.

--VIII-- Rays of warm sunshine beamed through the thin white window curtains. A rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted in as the distant buzz of lawn mowers and the gleeful giggles of children filled the morning air.

submitted by /u/rorenkun [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2Yh3VLE

#Blogger #Story

[tebbyclinic11]

For Digby Stridiron, All Roads Lead Back to the Vi...

New Post has been published on https://kitchengadgetsreviews.com/for-digby-stridiron-all-roads-lead-back-to-the-vi/

For Digby Stridiron, All Roads Lead Back to the Vi...

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It’s a warm June night at the James Beard House in New York City and chef Digby Stridiron is playing soca music in the compact subterranean kitchen as cooks move around him putting final touches on a caviar dish with ackee, saltfish, and roti. This is a sold-out dinner celebrating the West Indian Chefs Alliance, showcasing some of the best chefs of the Caribbean.

Stridiron is saying hello to guests, giving hugs to people he remembers from last year’s dinner. Someone says “nice outfit” as she passes him on her way to the courtyard. While the other chefs in the kitchen are wearing white chef coats, starched, pressed, and embroidered with their names, Stridiron is wearing a dark blue mechanic’s shirt with a U.S. Virgin Islands flag patch—a golden eagle with outstretched wings—on the left breast pocket.

On the surface Stridiron looks the same as he did last year around this time, when he hosted the first W.I.C.A. dinner, save for the patch and a few more tattoos. But the past year has brought challenges and clarity that changed him and the way that he thinks about himself as a chef and a man; he’s more committed than ever to honoring Caribbean cuisine.

“Thanks,” he says to her over the crowd, cracking a smile. “I’m over that traditional way of doing things.”

The day before the dinner, Stridiron surveyed the shelves at Essex Street Market in Manhattan, in camo shorts and a T-shirt, bleary-eyed from making a 12-hour drive from Charleston, South Carolina, where he picked up a heritage-breed pig from Holy City Hogs, a small heritage pork producer based in South Carolina. This last-minute shopping trip is for citrus and herbs to make the rum cocktails served at the dinner. “We’re serving rum drinks with each course,” he says excitedly. “The Japanese are proud of their sake and serve it with their food, so why not serve rum?”

Digby Stridiron, 35, is from St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands, a territory of the United States. He ran the kitchen at Balter, a fine-dining restaurant, on the island until 2017 and was the U.S. Virgin Islands’ culinary ambassador, traveling the world promoting the islands and their cuisine.

Last year he started work as the opening chef at Parcel 32, a Charleston restaurant that would serve Caribbean-inspired dishes with local Southern ingredients. He had high hopes for the project: “I was constantly trying to refine my food,” he says. That meant taking sorrel—a tart drink made from Caribbean hibiscus—reducing it and adding sugar to make it more “familiar” and modern for diners. He made mofongo, the humble dish of crushed fried plantains, as smooth and creamy as possible instead of the rough mash typically found on the island. Stridiron had looked to places like Noma as a culinary weathervane of how his cooking should be, as if he had to “‘French’ things up” or mimic a European standard of dining and cuisine in order to be taken seriously.

Just as hype for the restaurant was building in September 2017, Hurricane Maria ripped through the region, destroying homes, downing power lines, and killing dozens of people. Stridiron, who was born and raised on the island and still has family there, felt helpless. “Me being up here when that storm was happening, I couldn’t focus, I wasn’t able to do anything. It killed me. I went gray over this.” Less than two months later his grandmother passed away and he started to rethink his career priorities. “Losing my grandmother was one of the moments that showed me that you have to make decisions that are right, and if it’s not right for you then it’s not meant for you.” A few months later, in March of 2018, Stridiron was fired from the Charleston project without warning before it opened. “It was embarrassing,” he says.

He went back to the Caribbean, traveling to Jamaica to try authentic jerk, to Trinidad to try doubles, to Barbados to try cou-cou and flying fish. “The most diverse culture in the world is my West Indian culture. Hands down,” he says. He no longer cared about awards or “refining” his dishes. “I took off my chef jacket, and you don’t have to call me a chef if you don’t want to,” he says. “Besides Jose [Enrique of Puerto Rico], there’s not much award recognition in the Caribbean, and it makes Caribbean chefs feel like they have to make our food something different, something more European, and it’s like, no, what we’re doing is already beautiful.”

“It hasn’t been the easiest year for Digby,” says Asha Gomez, chef-owner of Third Space, a culinary event studio in Atlanta. She and Stridiron met four years ago in Italy and have stayed close friends ever since. “I call Digby a crazy diamond,” she says with a smile when talking about Stridiron’s move from St. Croix to Charleston and his travels around the Caribbean. “The last year has probably been the most important of his life because it’s defined and shaped what he wants to do.”

Photo by Eric Vitale

Stridiron cooking at the James Beard House in June.

In May, a call took Digby back to St. Croix. Sommer Sibilly-Brown, founder of the Virgin Islands Good Food Coalition, asked him to cook for a dinner raising funds for four Crucian middle and high school children to travel to Barbados to learn about the food systems there as part of the Farm to School Initiative. Since he didn’t have to work at a restaurant at the time, he said yes. “I was scared.” Stridiron hadn’t seen the island since the storms. “When we flew in, there were a lot of blue roofs,” he remembers. Seeing the damaged homes still covered in tarps made him realize what he wanted to do next and where he needed to be. “When I think about the greatest moments of my career, they’re all when I’m back in St. Croix. I realized that everything I had been doing for the past year was about me, it wasn’t about my community. I was being selfish.”

“It was challenging to do that dinner,” Sibilly-Brown remembers. “After the hurricane it was really hard to source local ingredients but Digby always said, ‘don’t worry about it.’” A day before the event, the venue lost water and Sibilly-Brown had no choice but to reschedule the event for a later date causing 50% of the reservations to cancel. “Everything that could have broken his spirit, he took it in stride,” she remembers. “He kept saying to me, ‘little by little’ and that’s how we make change.”

Stridiron recently signed the lease on a space in St. Croix and aims to open his new restaurant, Braata, at the end of 2018. Braata will be the rum bar of his dreams, serving dishes rooted in traditional Caribbean ingredients and highlighting the influence of both African slaves who were brought to the island and the Taino people, or indigenous native Caribbeans. He is designing the space himself and creating a menu that will be 100% Caribbean. “If I want to make something with cassareep (a thick syrup made with cassava), I want you to taste the cassareep.” Indigenous tropical fruits like sugar apples and traditional pepper pots will also be a part of Braata’s menu. “This is our food. We don’t need to replicate someone else’s food. Our food is already great.” And he’s not interested in awards. “If me being in Virgin Islands means there’s not enough people to eat my food to nominate me for an award, then guess what? I’m still fucking golden.”

Now the chef is traveling between St. Croix, other Caribbean islands, and cities in the U.S., collaborating on pop-up events and making plans for his restaurant. “Digby finding his way back to the island is really full circle,” Gomez says. “He lives and breathes that place, and he’s so proud of the food and the culture.”

“Personally, I’m happy that I’m going to have a warrior next to me, someone who loves this island as much as I do,” says Sibilly-Brown, who hosts events in the U.S. Virgin Islands to promote local foodways and farmers. “It helps young Virgin Islanders see that they can do it too.”

“I accepted myself,” Stridiron says. “I’m not looking for anyone to say ‘Digby, you’re good’ or ‘Digby, your food is beautiful’ or ‘we see you’, I want my people to see me everyday.” It took a year of travelling but it feels good to be home, he says. “Before I’m a chef, I’m a Virgin Islander.”

Korsha Wilson is a writer and the host of the podcast A Hungry Society. She lives in New Jersey.

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[wildcatscot]

https://shatterboysuk.wordpress.com/blog/   https://archive.is/qBwqC 

LINKS SCREENSHOT  http://www.gcoffey.co.uk/personal-injury-services/accidents-work/care-home-accidents         https://www.facebook.com/grahamcoffeyrally/

Victoria Myers  {Graham Coffey & Co}

Victoria Myers sales pitch 1  https://videopress.com/v/rSKYG0ah

Victoria Myers sales pitch 2  https://videopress.com/v/cP9fItnd

source VOICING CSA https://vimeo.com/213215657   https://vimeo.com/223345165

& then we have MYERS THIRD ATTEMPT TO “PERSUADE” SURVIVORS TO USE COFFEY’S SOLICITORS (AIDED BY CO-PERSUADER DANIEL)  https://archive.is/Kvwr4 

Ex Shatter boys Director Mr Steven Ward

In a lengthy statement from Mr Ward, he talks of a meeting with himself & director Mr John Lennon also Ms Myers from Graham Coffey Solicitors.

Mr Ward said

“John & Vicky were discussing getting survivors to use Coffey solicitors firm.  It really didn’t sit well with me, so I asked Vicky what was in it for her & she replied. 

“35% of each case“

Further on Mr Ward states.. 

“The first cheque from Coffey’s was to cover the rental of an office for shatter boys. We had arranged with Albert House to rent an office costing £600 per month for 6 months. Whilst I am a little uncertain of the exact amount on the cheque, It was for approximately £5,000”

“3-4 weeks after agreeing to rent the office, we STILL had no company bank account,  so I asked Daniel what was happening with the cheque, as Albert House wanted paid. Daniel said Coffey’s were going to sign the check over to him so he could put it in to his own personal bank account that way enabling us to pay Albert House.

However in the meantime, having finally grown tired of waiting for us to pay, Albert House put the office back on the market & subsequently it was rented to someone else.

“I never saw the cheque again & we never did get an office, so I have no idea where the money went nor what it was used for”

                                                                 Mr Steven Ward – ex shatter boy director

Below, a FB post by another Shatter Boy director, Mr J Lennon. Who appears to be a tad miffed with Daniel

https://archive.is/gPL9a 

https://archive.is/G7Uwv 

Unfortunately I can’t make out the details on the cheque, other than it has a Lloyds Bank Logo

But it is clear that these are two different occasions Coffey’s gave Shatter boys money. & that is only the ones I managed to find…

We know from Daniel’s own words.  Shatter boys DID NOT have a company bank accout.

SO WHERE DID THE CHEQUES GO?

MORE ON SHATTER BOYS

Daniel Whatshisname – PART 1

Mr Daniel Whatshisname – PART 2

Daniel Whatshisname PART 3

As well as being VERY supportive of Shatter boys, going by their facebook pages, Myers & Coffey Solicitors are clearly supportive of all things CSA. For example

The Truth Project

Voicing CSA

#PurpleFriday

Victoria Myers Facebook page is at least 95% CSA related posts, & her very first posts are dated 28 Feb 2017. (Presumably the day she opened the FB account) & from that day onwards its near enough all CSA related & very, very few about any other business matters. There are so many, I couldn’t possibly screenshot them all so these are just a sample (see more below)

https://www.facebook.com/VictoriaMyersSolicitor/    archive 

https://www.facebook.com/VictoriaMyersSolicitor/posts/327589254330343

https://www.facebook.com/VictoriaMyersSolicitor/photos/a.277980029291266.1073741828.277960725959863/326051017817500/?type=3

PURPLE CHRISTMAS / FRIDAY

Coffey’s not only supports & promotes shatter boys, but also #purplefriday #purplechristmas  which as far as i am aware was started by DavidLean (I could be wrong)

@InquiryCSA Verified Account https://twitter.com/search?q=%23PurpleChristmas%20iicsa&src=typd      https://archive.is/bCFWr  

@voicing_csa      https://twitter.com/search?q=%23PurpleChristmas%20Voicing%20CSA%20&src=typd     https://archive.is/L7PkI  

Shatter boys is also very vocal in their support of #purplechristmas 

EVEN MORE BIZARRELY, I decided to just have a quick look to see what purple friday / christmas was all about & so I  googled purple christmas.

I was HORRIFIED to see this

LGBT SCOTLAND YOUTH

Purple Friday is an LGBT Youth Scotland.”thing”

Strange, how out of ALL the colours & ALL the days they both JUST SO HAPPEN to be the same… purple friday.

Purple Friday 2017 – Be a #PurpleHero – LGBT Youth Scotland https://www.lgbtyouth.org.uk/news/purple-friday-2017   https://archive.is/cRTpz 

Purple Friday 2018 – LGBT Youth Scotland https://www.lgbtyouth.org.uk/purplefridayorder2018   https://archive.is/55JSa 

LGBT History Month | Friday 26th Feb is… Purple Friday!       http://www.lgbthistory.org.uk/blog/2016/january/friday-26th-february-is-purple-friday/  https://archive.is/y4vIu 

Early day motion 909 – PURPLE FRIDAY 2017 – UK Parliament  https://www.parliament.uk/edm/2016-17/909    https://archive.is/b64cL 

Purple Friday – Grove Academy – Dundee  http://grove.ea.dundeecity.sch.uk/news/purple-friday     https://archive.is/zTtJJ 

JAMES RENNIE & LGBT YOUTH SCOTLAND

https://twitter.com/calamiTcat/status/915727225265250304   https://archive.is/JdAAh 

Scottish paedophile ring found guilty of more than 50 charges https://www.theguardian.com/uk/2009/may/07/scottish-paedophile-ring-guilty-child-abuse  https://archive.is/k6kiY 

Paedo gang trial: How MI5 helped bring Scotland’s sickest perverts to justice  http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/scottish-news/paedophile-gang-trial-how-mi5-1021744     https://archive.is/2mVFl      

Common Purpose trained James (Jamie) Rennie Paedophile https://www.cpexposed.com/documents/common-purpose-trained-james-jamie-rennie-paedophile-previously-scottish-lgbt     https://archive.is/vudHd 

AND THEN ADD THIS   http://lgbt.wikia.com/wiki/Scottish_Minorities_Group

I MEAN SERIOUSLY?? WTF? They MUST have checked if anyone else was using it, or they must know by now certainly.  THEY COULDN’T FAIL TO SEE IT!  Cause the links above & MANY MORE are all RIGHT THERE on page 1 of google search purple friday

James_Rennie_Paed_Sky_Report.pdf     https://archive.is/bBxpq

IAN CAMPBELL DUNN & LGBT YOUTH

Ian Campbell Dunn – Founded and run by self-confessed paedophiles, the SMG – also known as the Scottish Homosexual Rights Group and later as Outright Scotland – have been promoted by the BBC and were active with Trade Unions, the Scottish Government, and other Scottish public institutions such as the NHS, Police, and Justice System until around 2006 [1][2]. Their role has since been taken over by the Equality Network and Stonewall Scotland, both linked to and affiliated with the SMG. Two or three months after founding PIE, Dunn promoted it publicly by organising the First International Gay Rights Congress in Edinburgh in 1974. PIE was openly advertised as a proposed participant:  Dunn is also notable for establishing the Edinburgh LGBT Centre in 1974, editing the Gay Scotland magazine, and later publicly criticising the Aberdeen police in 1997 for a sting operation that uncovered local paedophiles abusing a thirteen year old boy in public toilets. After his death in 1998 of a suspected heart attack, Dunn was posthumously given the pride-scotia award by the LGBT community in recognition of his accomplishments.   https://forum.davidicke.com/showthread.php?t=295869         https://archive.is/gN4eq

http://www.solvesecret.co.uk/chapter10.html    https://archive.is/KQSYM

MORE ON IAN DUNN & LGBT

Robin Cook, Gordon Brown, Ian Dunn & PIE    https://archive.is/4KVhr 

https://ianpace.wordpress.com/2014/03/16/pie-documentary-evidence-6-chairpersons-report-197576/    https://archive.is/5nkOm

  THE PURPLE “REVOLUTION” WAS ORIGINALLY CREATED BY SOROS & CLINTONS

DO I NEED TO SAY ANY FUCKING MORE?!!

The Color Purple Revolution: Hillary’s Elite Cult Wants War

Soros, the Purple Revolution and The Caviar Eating Fake Left

more FB screenshots from Graham Coffey’s & co & Victoria Myers

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Going back to the same shatter boys blog,  https://shatterboysuk.wordpress.com/blog/   https://archive.is/qBwqC    It then goes on about someone called BILLY WALDEN

https://billyarthurwalden.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BillyArthurWalden/

And if you look at the bottom of his page, you find JAYNE WALDEN pops up  

& we can see from Billy’s Linkedin that he is in fact Jayne’s son. 

It also states Jayne is Shatter boys “North West manager”   

But under her Voicing CSA vid it says she is Shatter Boys “Campaign Manager”

So WHO KNOWS?!

JAYNE WALDEN, TWEETER OF ALL KINDSA NASTY (see bottom of page)

Billy Walden’s site  It states “Just made this bench for Chris Harper who plays Nathan in Coronation Street”    Chris Harper – google images

CHRIS HARPER ON LOOSE WOMEN https://videopress.com/v/1AtDf7Dv

Christopher William Harper (born 19 August 1977) is an actor and director who played Nathan Curtis in ITV soap Coronation Street in a high profile teenage grooming  & exploitation storyline.[1]

Under the heading Charity work, it goes on to say

“Alongside appearing in the soap, the actor has helped raise awareness of child sex abuse through charity work[8] and as patron for the charity Voicing CSA,[9] which helps adult survivors of child sexual abuse to speak out.”

Victoria Myers also posted about the Coronation street storyline NUMEROUS TIMES here  here  here 

VOICING CSA

https://voicingcsa.uk/

It is Voicing CSA on Vimeo that have a heap of shatter boy videos on Vimeo Including the 2 Victoria Meyers vids (see above)  AND Jayne Walden’s Vid (above) AND ALSO one of Chris Harper on Loose Women (above)  https://vimeo.com/search?q=voicing+csa

Voicing CSA is registered as a Community Interest Company (№ 10059644)

wiki quote “CICs must be limited companies of one form or another. A CIC cannot be a charity, an IPS or an unincorporated organisation.”

https://archive.is/9DesL 

Victoria Myer supports & has posted from & about voicing csa here  here

AND about The Truth Project  here   here  here (a few samples of all her relevent posts)

THE TRUTH PROJECT

(Site shut temporarily for maintainance)  http://www.thetruthproject.org

For feedback from those who have attended and more information about the Truth Project on the project’s website, please visit: https://www.truthproject.org.uk/i-will-be-heard

Please also see the links to the Truth Project: What to Expect (PDF) and a fact sheet which includes details of how victims and survivors of child sexual abuse can contact the project.   There is also a video which explains more about the IICSA.

https://twitter.com/Esther9982/status/942429608787488773

https://twitter.com/Esther9982/status/942430674463739905

MORE TWEETS HERE 

QUICK SUMMARY

PURPLE FRIDAY – & I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY ABOUT THAT OTHER THAN WTF?!

& THEN WE HAVE VOICING CSA, THE TRUTH PROJECT, GRAHAM COFFEY & CO, CHRIS HARDY, VICTORIA MYER, SHATTER BOYS & PURPLE FRIDAY 

ALL INTERLINKED & BACKING EACH OTHER UP OVER EVERYTHING

THE TRUTH PROJECT IS FUNDED BY THE GOVERNMENT 

CLAIMS OF PHIL LAFFERTY (OWNS HALF OF VOICING CSA CIC)  BEING LESS THAN SQUEAKY CLEAN & PHIL IS ON THE IICSA PANEL BUT I DONT KNOW WHETHER HE IS PAID TO BE OR NOT

SHATTER BOY LTD HAS NO ACCOUNTS WHAT SO EVER & THE MONEY WHO KNOWS WHERE. BUT WE’RE TOLD AT LEAST 1 CHEQUE WENT TO SHATTER BOYS TOP DOG DANIEL. WHO IS FAR FROM SQUEAKY CLEAN. & HE IS ALSO ON THE IICSA PANEL & GETS PAID BY THE GOVT.

& THEN WE HAVE THE AMBULANCE CHASERS WHO I SUSPECT ARE RAKING IT IN.  & ARE PROMOTED SO HEAVILY BY DANIEL THERE ARE 3 VIDEOS OF HIM & MYERS DOING THE WHOLE SALES PITCH

CLEARLY THERE’S LOTS OF MONEY TO BE MADE FROM SURVIVORS? WHO KNEW?!  CAUSE IT WOULD NEVER EVEN OCCUR TO MOST PEOPLE TO GAIN MONEY FROM THE HORRORS SURVIVORS HAD TO ENDURE

& HERE’S ME THINKING A PERSONS LIFE ISN’T A MONEY MAKING OPPORTUNITY

https://twitter.com/i/moments/941711745269288961

Ambulance Chasers, “Charities”, Survivors & Purple LINKS SCREENSHOT   Victoria Myers  {Graham Coffey & Co} Victoria Myers sales pitch 1  

[vdbstore-blog]

New Post has been published on Vintage Designer Handbags Online | Vintage Preowned Chanel Luxury Designer Brands Bags & Accessories

New Post has been published on http://vintagedesignerhandbagsonline.com/yrsa-daley-ward-people-are-afraid-to-tell-the-truth-fashion/

Yrsa Daley-Ward: ‘People are afraid to tell the truth' | Fashion

If you’re afraid to write it, that’s a good sign. I suppose you know you’re writing the truth when you’re terrified.” These words in black type on a white background make up one of poet Yrsa Daley-Ward’s Instagram posts. This monochrome snapshot of her innermost thoughts has more than 5,200 “likes”. That’s more than double the number she gets for any pictures. Daley-Ward spent her late teens and early 20s as a model struggling to pay her rent in London, working for brands such as Apple, Topshop, Estée Lauder and Nike. She still models today. Ironically, however, it was the image-obsessed medium of Instagram that enabled her to pursue the written word.

“I always was a writer,” she explains today in a thick Lancashire accent, sitting in a downtown Los Angeles restaurant close to where she lives. “But I was depressed [in London] and that made me choke. Modelling is an interesting profession because it teaches you so much about here…” She points a finger at her face. “But not here…” she sighs and points at her heart. “You become introverted, you disappear into yourself.”

‘I didn’t fit in. I wanted to be white, have different hair, know my father, not be religious…’

Daley-Ward’s debut collection of poetry, Bone, is anything but introverted. Aptly titled, it’s a visceral read candidly documenting her religious upbringing, sexuality and mental-health battles. It flew out of her in three months, as she chronicled her bad love affairs, sense of isolation and feelings of inadequacy – an uncomfortable, uninhibited read. Daley-Ward is a self-confessed firestarter and has a colourful past. She doesn’t watch TV and prefers to go to the pub to drink Guinness and “chat to old men about their lives”. When asked to give her age, she refuses. “Men don’t get asked,” she barks.

She finds the notion of being objectified irksome. In a bodycon dress today, she tells me she’s been cat-called “seven times” en route here. “Why the fuck? Look at the patriarchy, look at rape culture. I don’t need to be subjected to what men think.” With her poems she cuts through that, deep into the parts of herself that she feels have been overseen by superficial, homogenous norms.

Bone was initially released in 2014 through Amazon’s self-publishing arm. It’s since been expanded for reissue via Penguin. Daley-Ward’s 116,000 and growing Instagram fanbase was key to that. Having followers like pop star Florence & the Machine and Hollywood actor Ellen Page also helps.

Daley-Ward read everything she could get her hands on as a kid: Roald Dahl, Spike Milligan, Shakespeare. As a young, black, LGBTQ female, she’s often said that she feels “invisible”in the literary world and maintains that poetry has a long way to go to diversify itself.

“Have I seen change? Yes and no,” she says. “There’s a lot more to do. If it wasn’t for the internet how would I have got the book out? How would I have got a publisher? If I went to a publisher armed with Bone and zero internet following…” She tapers off, suggesting they’d have looked right past her. “I didn’t know what to expect. I just persevered.”

‘The queer space is varied and intricate. Every story I have is a story a friend has’: Ysra Daley-Ward. Photograph: Platon for the Observer

Alongside the African-American poet Nayyirah Waheed, Zimbabwean bard Tapiwa Mugabe and Nigerian writer Ijeoma Umebinyuo, Daley-Ward, who is of West Indian and West African descent, is part of a small, elite community of black writers who are breaking down barriers. “It’s lovely to see women of colour poets,” she says. “Old poetry can be so inaccessible. Not just for people of colour but for people who aren’t super erudite, who don’t read, don’t love Shakespeare. Some people just want to connect with feelings.”

The melting pot of Downtown LA is a far cry from home in Chorley. She was born in the northern town after her Jamaican mother (a nurse) had an extra-marital affair with a Nigerian man who came to the UK to study, leaving his wife and children behind. He died before Daley-Ward was old enough to meet him.

From the age of seven to 11 she was sent, with her younger brother, to live with her grandparents. They were Seventh Day Adventists. Daley-Ward describes them as “strict religious fundamentalists”. “From sunset on Friday we couldn’t do anything until sunset on Saturday,” she recalls. “During the week everything was monitored. We didn’t go outside except to see my cousins.”

‘Sex work is common among models. It’s not standing on street corners – you have boyfriends who are very rich’

Growing up fast, she was ingrained with certain gender expectations; rules that existed to be broken. “They’d tell me that a girl should be able to run a house. Every Sunday my grandma and I would be on our knees handwashing all the clothes. I learned how to clean, sew and cook. I never make my bed now.”

At the time, Daley-Ward bottled up her frustrations. When she returned to live with her mother, she was left to raise her brother while her mum worked night shifts. “Things changed completely,” she remembers. “There was all the freedom where we once had no freedom.”

As well as the liberation that came with her own sexual awakening, she gained a more rounded perspective on a woman’s place in the world. Her mum’s boyfriends weren’t always the most desirable choices. “She was the one with the money, working hard. She never received help from men, ever.” That gave birth to a sense of staunch independence in her, combined with a streak of disruption. “I’m a quiet, introverted person, but I was very internally rebellious.”

Conflict continued to bubble up inside her; she was acutely aware of not fitting in in Chorley. “I was a black girl living in a market town, alien to everything. There were so many things I wanted to be other than what I was. I wanted to be white, have different hair, have parents who were home, know my father, not be religious. When I watched TV, everything from Disney to Coronation Street, there was never a representation of me.” She would write to disappear into different realities.

Soon enough, however, she didn’t need prose to whisk her away. There was a man – an older music teacher. He was married. He left his wife for her. “It was a torrid, crazy time,” she recalls, awkwardly avoiding the conversation.

‘When I was 20, I was in knots. There’s no cage now’: Ysra Daley-Ward. Photograph: Platon for the Observer

She left Chorley and moved to Manchester en route to London, as the pull of big multicultural cities became exhilarating to her. “I was going out dancing to reggae and African music, buying jollof rice made by someone other than my grandma.” The honeymoon period was short, though. She lost her mother in 2007. (She doesn’t say how she died but implies that her lack of quality of life contributed.) Working as a jobbing actor and model, struggling to makes ends meet, she fell into depression. Writing was unimportant when there were bills to pay. “The grind got to me. I was lonely and had no real support in the world. None. I felt awful every day. I didn’t want to get out of bed.”

The discrimination she experienced in the fashion industry made matters worse. Repeatedly she’d fail to get jobs she was more than qualified for. “This is not a face that sells in England,” she says. “They say that black models sell fewer clothes than white models. That’s stupid. Fashion just doesn’t want to be diverse.” To survive, she had to find other avenues. “I was a very enterprising young woman,” she says coyly. “Learning what to use to get by.”

I ask if she’s alluding to sex work. She laughs. “It’s the most common thing in the modelling industry, especially at high levels. I’m not talking about standing on street corners. You have a boyfriend for two months who’s a millionaire. In that situation you’re safe, eating caviar, drinking champagne. There are other situations that are considerably less safe and less consensual. It’s a reality for so many women in the entertainment industry and we’re told not to talk about it.”

In desperate need of salvation and in search of more secure modelling jobs, she moved to Cape Town where there was, she says, a guaranteed market for black models. She was 24 years old with £200 in her pocket. The experience made her rich in a way she’d never have anticipated. While there, she came across a spoken-word evening. The task was to write a poem about family discord. “I thought: easy!” she smiles. Her performance brought rapturous applause. She went again and again. Every week the audience grew.

“In acting and modelling I was so busy expressing what somebody else wanted that I’d completely shut down my own voice,” she says. “I didn’t have any mirrors. When I was 20, I was in knots. I couldn’t speak my reality to anybody. There’s no cage now. Lots of people are afraid to tell the truth. But I don’t care. It’s fucking boring otherwise.”

Ysra Daley-Ward as a toddler with her mother and brother. She says her mum ‘never received help from men, ever’. Photograph: @yrsadaleyward

Today, Daley-Ward lives between LA and London. Her audience has grown far beyond Cape Town. One poem, Mental Health, has made fans of people who have never given a thought to poetry. During a reading in south London, a man came up to her in tears. “He asked me to send it to him. I thought nobody was listening,” she says. She’s also become a poster child for the undermined, particularly the LGBTQ community. Despite writing about her relationships with women, she refuses to make her sexuality a big deal, insisting that her poems relate to people of all sexual preferences.

“I’m writing about common experience,” she says. “The LGBT community are my friends. The queer space is varied and intricate. Every story I have is a story a friend has. When I talk about a woman that you can’t get out of your head even though you know she’s going to fuck you over… Hello?! That represents 10 people I know.”

In an age of technology, the fact that Daley-Ward has built a platform for literature out of social media is perhaps her biggest act of rebellion. Next, she’ll release a memoir. “There’s nothing left unsaid,” she laughs. Titled The Terrible, it’s “The truest thing I’ll maybe ever write.” Where it will take her remains to be seen. “I move through the world at an alarming rate. Next time we speak I might be in New York,” she says. “I’m in the midst of a change. I keep dreaming about it. Something’s about to happen.”

Bone by Yrsa Daley-Ward is published by Penguin on 26 September, at £9.99. To order a copy for £8.49, go to bookshop.theguardian.com

Fashion credits: (from top) Daley-ward wears dress by Alexander McQueen; coat by Givenchy; and jumper by Prada. Fashion editor Jo Jones; hair by Jerome Cultrera at L’Atelier NYC using Oribe Hair Care; make-up by Linda Gradin at L’Atelier NYC using MAC Cosmetics; fashion assistant Bemi Shaw

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#Fashion

[artificialqueens]

things you say through your teeth [things you say part 2] (Ninex) - meggie

A/N: I’m back on my bullshit. Ninex owns my entire heart. Thank you (as always) to Mia, for prereading, hand-holding, tear-wiping, and generally being incredible.

Word Count: 2,106

Their first fight is nothing short of awful. 

It’s all Nina’s fault and it’s all avoidable, and that’s the worst part of the entire thing.

They’re in Miami, schedules synchronized per chance for once. They have been “hooking up” (Nina detests that term, but it’s gentler than fucking, which he hates even more because that’s not what this feels like, not really) for three months, one week, and four days. Not that he’s counting.

Monet is out of bed, mixing them drinks at the bathroom sink with the tiny airline bottles of liquor from the minibar.

Nina’s head spins as he watches, but whether it’s from the alcohol or post-coital bliss that always comes after Monet fucks him he isn’t sure. Maybe a beautiful combination of both; he’s never been an addict, but he’s starting to understand how people crave more and more of what they love. He craves more and more of Monet.

“Girl…” Monet chuckles as he brings their drinks to bed. Vodka sodas this time. “You look ridiculous right now.”

Nina knows it must be true. The longer parts of his hair stick up at awkward angles, sweat shines on his forehead and chest; he knows his pupils must be blown and his cheeks are still rosy from both liquor and sex. Monet’s doing. All his. Monet has fucking ruined him.

“And whose fault is that?” Nina sips his drink. It needs lime, but he’s just drunk enough not to care. Feeling braver, seeking out the heat in his belly that comes from a good (or even decent) drink, he finishes it in four gulps. He’s a little buzzed and it’s wonderful.

“You want me to apologize? Call you by my name and shit?”

“I don’t think I ever said anything about that.” Nina laughs. He likes their sex, loves it, to be honest. It’s just the right amount of wanton lustfulness with a large side dish of true compassion and intimacy. It’s congenial, if you will. (He told Brooke that once; she choked a little.)

Monet just rolls his eyes and takes carefully measured drinks from the glass after he repositions himself in bed at Nina’s side, back against the headboard, legs out straight in front of him.

Nina wastes no time tucking his head into the space between Monet’s hip and thigh and rests there, cheek on silky skin, drawing and tracing letters and shapes and nonsense while Monet channel surfs. He finally settles on an old episode of Jeopardy!, places the remote on the nightstand, and threads the fingers of his free hand through Nina’s hair to massage the scalp absentmindedly.

It’s nice. Comfortable. Domestic. Something Nina could definitely get used to.

The thought is treacherous. Nina getting used to the idea of having Monet, of actually coming home to him, climbing in bed next to him every night after gigs, touching him whenever he wants and not having to wait until they’re locked behind the privacy of a hotel door every three weeks or whenever their schedules line up.

It’s dangerous because Nina knows Monet doesn’t want the same things, can’t want the same things, because that’s not how Nina’s life works. That’s never how it’s been. He’s always been the one to fall first, fall hardest, fall period. If Nina West had a middle name, it would be Unrequited.

Monet is whip-smart (he’s answered the last seven questions right, not that Nina’s counting); he’s so funny and quick on his feet, so kind and benevolent and inspirational. And gorgeous. They just don’t fit.

He pushes himself off Monet’s lap (even though he wants to stay there for the night, for eternity, for as long as Monet will have him). Nina rests against the headboard, blinks back the tears he feels burning in the corners of his eyes. He knew this would happen and still…

It hurts so much more than he could have expected.

“Fuck off, Tyler!” Monet says exasperatedly and drains the rest of his drink. “Can you believe this motherfucker didn’t know the answer was caviar when the clue specifically said it was made from roe? Avocado, my black ass…” 

Then Monet glances over at Nina, who’s picking at his thumbnail and wishing he could stop the stupid tears that are rolling down his face.

“Why are you crying, Nina West?”

“What are we doing?” Nina asks quietly.

Monet glances at the television. “We’re lying in bed watching Jeopardy! Eventually we’re going to sleep because you have a show tomorrow night and I have a flight to catch.” 

“No, I mean like…” Nina gestures to the bed, sheets still rumpled and messy around their legs. “What are we doing?”

“Oh.” Monet’s voice goes quiet with realization, so he turns the tv off and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh. Okay. Well. What are we doing?”

Nina shrugs. “This is… You are…” Words, Nina. Use your words. “I like this; I like you. A lot—”

“Me too.”

“—and like, I haven’t been with anyone else since we started doing whatever this is that we’re doing, and that’s fine with me, but I know it’s probably different for you, and I just…” Nina pauses. Stops. Sighs. Bows his head. “I’m not sure I can handle you breaking my heart if we do this anymore.”

Monet quirks his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I can’t…” Nina sighs. “I can’t get any closer to you because it’s just going to hurt worse when you decide that we’re done.”

Monet nods, licks his lips, stares at the red and gold duvet scrunched at the foot of the bed. “So I’m the one who ends things; is that how this works? I’m going to be the bad guy?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“But that’s what you said.” Monet nods once and pushes himself out of bed, hastily gathering his clothes from their resting spots on the floor. “You said you couldn’t take it when I broke your heart, like it was an inevitability. Like you’re just waiting around for the other shoe to drop.” He pulls on his shorts angrily. “Look, I know you like to live in a Disney movie, okay, I get it, I love that about you. But that’s not how life works, baby. Life is messy and painful and sometimes it takes two people to break a heart.”

Nina sniffs. “What… are you saying?”

Monet pulls his T-shirt over his head and collapses back onto the bed. He sits on the edge with his head in his hands and sighs. “I’m not… I don’t think I’m like you think I am. There’s no one else; hasn’t been for me since we started…” He motions to the bed, repeating Nina’s gesture from earlier. “I guess I just assumed you knew that about me.”

“But we hardly ever see each other,” Nina says quietly. He aches to reach out, to touch him, to trace the tattoo that runs down Monet’s spine. He doesn’t. Doesn’t feel he has the right anymore. 

“So? When we do see each other?” Monet whistles. “It’s enough for me. So why isn’t it enough for you?”

Nina shakes his head fervently. “No, I never said—”

“Not in so many words,” Monet says. “But what’s really going on underneath all this? What’s really making you push me away? Because one day I might not feel the same way? You think I’m not scared shitless at this? You think you don’t frustrate the hell out of me because I’ve never felt like this about anyone else before? But I’m not running.”

The tears are back in Nina’s eyes (he’s not sure they ever really left) because he can feel Monet slipping away from him. And it’s all completely, utterly his fault. He got too in his head and now look where things are. If he’d just kept his mouth shut, they’d still be fine. His head would still be in Monet’s lap, they’d still be watching Jeopardy! Nothing would be different. 

“Right,” Monet says after an uncomfortable beat of silence. “Well. I think I’m going to go back to my own room for the night then.” He stands, steps into his shoes, pauses with his hand on the door knob like he’s waiting for Nina to stop him. “My flight leaves at 11:30 tomorrow… if you want to grab breakfast or whatever, let me know.”

It’s all Nina can do to nod. The door opens and clicks closed, and Nina’s crying for real this time, hugging a pillow to his chest and wanting wanting wanting. 

***

Nina wants to text. Fights with himself over it as he lies in bed, not sleeping, but he’s also not finished berating himself for being an absolute idiot. He orders room service at 10:30 and picks over his fruit bowl, watching the minutes tick by on his digital clock.

He’ll try for a nap later on, before he has to leave for the show that afternoon, and maybe by then, after Monet’s plane has landed in New York, after Nina’s gotten some sleep and they’ve both gotten some distance, maybe then Nina can send a text. Apologize. Beg forgiveness. Tell Monet he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him and that he doesn’t want to lose what they have. Could have. 

Just after noon, there’s a knock on the door.

Nina almost ignores it, almost stays in bed, buries his head under the pillows and tries desperately to slip into the sleep that avoided him all night. But he swings his legs out of bed reluctantly, trudges across the floor, and opens the door without looking through the peephole (it’s bad practice; he knows better, but he’s tired). 

“Hey,” Monet says quietly. He’s standing in the hallway, suitcase behind him, hands shoved in the back pockets of his shorts. A staged casual stance. He’s pretending to be comfortable when he is anything but.

“What…” Nina can’t speak. Can’t form words. Can’t believe this man is standing in front of him like a real life goddamn Disney movie.

“I didn’t like the way I left things last night,” Monet responds. “You didn’t text, and I was at the airport, but I couldn’t leave things like they were without knowing when I was going to see you again.”

“What?” Nina repeats. Still awed. Part of it is probably exhaustion. Part of is is sheer emotion.

Monet runs a hand over his head. “So can I come in?”

Nina steps aside and allows the other man entrance, and Monet pulls his suitcase in behind him. 

The door clicks closed and all Nina wants to do is pull Monet into his chest and kiss him until they’re breathless, but Monet takes a breath and Nina feels his heart clench. Because with no texts, Nina could pretend that everything would be okay someday. With Monet in front of him ready to end things, he isn’t so confident.

“Okay, so. Look.” Monet sighs. “Last night you asked me what we were doing. So I wanted to just come out and say it.”

Nina steels himself, braces for the worst, prepares to have his heart broken.

“I really fucking like you, okay? So if you need more to get you out of this crazy-ass Monet-is-going-to-leave-me headspace, okay. I’ll be more. Let’s do more. But you have to talk to me when you start to get like this.” Monet guides Nina to the edge of the bed, sits beside him, takes his hands. “I want to know you so well that I can see this coming, I’ll get there eventually, but for now, you have to tell me.”

Nina nods. “Okay.”

“Also…” Monet smiles, broad and brilliant and everything Nina loves. “Do you wanna be my boyfriend? Just so we’re both on the same page.”

He kisses Monet then, soft and chaste, just enough to confirm what they both already knew was a sure thing. “Duh,” Nina says against Monet’s lips. They kiss again and then Nina pulls away to yawn, and Monet narrows his eyes.

“Bitch, did you sleep at all last night?”

“Not really…” Nina admits sheepishly.

Monet kicks off his shoes and pulls Nina to his chest before covering them with the scratchy hotel sheet.

“What about your flight?” Nina says softly. 

“There are other flights,” Monet says. “Right now I want to be here.”

Nina will apologize later after Monet accompanies him to his show, grinning the entire time and cheering louder than almost anyone else there. For now though, he relaxes into Monet’s chest, clasps their hands together, and slips into a dreamless sleep.

#rpdr fanfiction #monet x change #nina west #ninex #angst #implied smut #canon compliant #things you say #meggie #concrit welcome #submission

[avaliveradio]

Colorado Springs Hip Hop music producer Joe Kruel Captures Local Vines on CO Vibes (ft. Justice Rhymes)

After a six year hiatus, Colorado Springs Hip Hop music producer Joe Kruel arrives back on the music scene with a laid-back 90's West Coast vibe. 

The single 'CO Vibes (ft. Justice Rhymes)' with beats by Nersh & Klasic is captures the mentality and vibe of the whole state. Growing up in HipHop, a lot of artists would make anthems for their cities. I've always wanted something like that for Colorado, so I decided I'd make it myself. 

Some of my biggest influences in hip hop are artists such as Tupac, Ice Cube, Snoop Dogg, Wutang, Big Pun, and so many more. 

“I've been making hip-hop music since the early 2000s (in various groups and under a different name). I took a six-year hiatus from music and just recently got back into the swing of being an artist. For me, this song is the first push of who I am, where I'm from, and what I'm about.  The music I used to make was more BoomBap style of hip-hop. Now my sound is more of the old school flow with new school beats. I aim to touch on a variety of different aspects when making music. I aim to make party music, conscious hip-hop, chill/relaxing vibes, and even some high-tempo aggressive songs. “

Coming up...

You can expect at least one new song a month. 'CO Vibes' : released on 4/12/21

Next single: "#TenHunnidThousand" release date 5/4/21 with video. 

About the Artist...

Joe Kruel, is a Mexican-American hip-hop artist, songwriter, and entrepreneur known for his conceptual songwriting and versatile delivery. The artist came onto the Colorado Springs and St Louis rap scene in 2004 under the name "Virulent1" with a rap group called "Acts Of Balance". Joe Kruel became well known in the rap battle circuit, winning various events, and was featured in several albums and DJ mixtapes throughout Colorado Springs and St Louis. In 2009 Joe Kruel left that group and formed a new group called "Sworn Enemys" and changed his stage name to "Tape Deck". 

He released two albums:

His group album Sworn Enemys - The Manifesto and His solo album Tape Deck - Real To Reel, gaining exposure throughout Southern Colorado with tracks such as "Reminisce" (Real To Reel) and "Party Ain't Over" and "Fuck Pop Hop" (The Manifesto). After a six-year hiatus from the music scene, Joe Kruel became a radio personality for LocoLuv Radio, which reignited his love and desire for making music. In 2019, Joe Kruel released two singles "Pop Somethin" and "Smoking Fire" as he eased back into the role of an artist. Currently, he is releasing additional singles under his own label Kruel Empire Music.

New Release: CO Vibes (ft. Justice Rhymes)

Genre: Genre: HipHop Sub-genre: Alternative HipHop

Sounds like: : Ice Cube, Dr. Dre, Eminem, Vinnie Paz, Big Pun, Notorious BIG, Nipsey Hustle, Big Sean, Freddie Gibbs, and Nas

Located in: :Colorado Springs, CO, USA

LINKS: 

Spotify song link : https://open.spotify.com/track/2aEAwiq9htWYIMvwKLnzgb?si=VinCaNCpRdav2D2-OzTGxQ Twitter link: https://twitter.com/KruelEmpire Facebook link: https://www.facebook.com/KruelEmpire Instagram link: https://www.instagram.com/kruelempire Website link: https://kruelempiremusic.com

This single is featured on several playlists:

🔥Release Radar New Music Playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2JOBcgSYgGmV2g27N1CUXx?si=PQFpAPUbQ0m4ByZEbtBtLg

🔥JAX DAILY Morning Coffee Playlist:

  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7pEY8BiSj6sLLSHAoOo9k0?si=IrwIjmHVRN2vswRyw_P6gA

🔥Top 20 Rap Caviar https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5fHaQnVJU3ApkDRkz53dJA?si=pYb4Ip6GQGagqWSf0C0MtQ

🔥Groundbreaking Indie Hip Hop Next Generation Rap https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06gwejs45LDr3Hbw67p3Qn?si=vstyDWpkSju-OBtsU2mkRw

#Joe Kruel #Colorado #Hip Hop Music