#✥ sounds like a lot of hoopla; crack ✥

[strictlycanon]

#★ sounds like a lot of hoopla; crack ★

[side-effect-of-the-meds]

So random though I can’t get out of my head? You know how Andrew has like a nono word list well does Erin and also does she have any words she loves? Like the sound of/the meaning behind/wherever she first heard it? Holy guacamole I’m putting way to many question marks. But this is Seriously a Need To Know thing

Guacamole anon?????? Is that you????????

Okay look, I was trying to write my twinyard piece and u came and stuck this idea in my head and im anger. I’m far too easily distracted to be a real writer :’))))

Alright, so there’s the obvious ones: please, beg for me, faggot, but there are a few others including ‘retarded’ <<<<<< She’s fully prepared to fight Wymack on that one. Once she does voice her complaint on it, he stops using it immediately. 

Now, this part is a bit painful. Any form of the word ‘prostitute’ is hard for her to hear. Have you ever heard of the tape analogy? In the tape analogy, a woman is like a piece of tape. A piece of tape that hasn’t stuck to any surface before, has amazing bonding abilities. However, every time the piece of tape is ripped up, it loses some of its bonding ability (note: I am saying bonding ability, not stickiness. That’s how this analogy is taught). Soon, the tape has been stuck to too many surfaces. It’s lost all its bonding ability. The piece of tape is now useless. Women are pieces of tape. If she has had more than one partner, she won’t be able to properly bond with them. If she’s had too many partners, she’s useless. That is the extent of the sex ed. that Erin receives. 

Take a second to think about that. Women are told that if she has more than one partner, she’d useless. So… what does that make Erin? Her virginity was stolen when she was seven but people have been touching her inappropriately for as long as she can remember. Men have made her watch them jack off. Women have made her grab their breasts. The people that raised Erin were disgusting and because of the sorry excuse for an education system, Erin believes that she’s just a useless piece of tape, incapable of loving and not worthy of being loved. 

To make matters worse? There’s Drake. He would pin her down and tell her to be a good little slut/whore. Truly disgusting. I hope he’s burning in the deepest circle of Hell. Also, his pet name for Erin was “Eri”. You know who else calls her that? Aaron. You can not comprehend the complete and utter fear that she felt when he called her Eri for the first time. Drake wasn’t her brother by blood but he was still her brother. She didn’t know what to expect from Aaron when he said it for the first time. Context though, he was being sarcastic. “Aw, poor little Eri,” he had said. She literally jumped when he’d said it. They were at the store and she ended up knocking over a really big display. After that, he only ever calls her that when he’s drunk and Erin slowly begins to accept it as Aaron’s name for her. Her brother’s name for her. 

Back to the other one tho. You thought I was done. Nah, b. I’m just getting started. When Kevin leaves Evermore for Palmetto, people blame Erin for it. Everyone is convinced she’s seduced him and dragged him down to Palmetto. On her first day there, she arrives at the court to find slut and many variations of it spray painted over the court. All four girls share a dorm room Erin’s first year. Someone manages to pick the lock and trash the place. This is the only time the monsters and the upperclassmen come together before Ania. They track down the ppl that vandalized the dorms and they make them pay. I’ll leave the details to your imagination but I’ll tell you this, Seth’s really good with computers and Allison has millions of followers on every social media platform. Do what you will with that information. While it stops the vandalizing and quiets most of the kids in the hall, the media is still referring to Erin as Kevin’s mistress. At a press conference, someone asks Kevin if Erin has let him go down her foxhole. This is the only time Wymack’s professionalism fails him. He decks the man then and there. In front of everyone. 

Erin, though? She hasn’t said a word the entire time. She’s been raised to believe that this is what she is. Erin is just now discovering the depth of her sexuality. The media frenzy, the vandalization, the gossip: it’s her punishment for craving the sins of the flesh. She comes out to Kevin one night at Eden’s. She needs to make sure that he doesn’t get any ideas about her after all the media’s hoopla. Kevin is stressed. How is she going to make court now? A part of him wonders what would have happened if she’d taken Riko’s offer and gone to Evermore. Would Riko have left him for Erin? He doesn’t let himself dwell on it. So long as she keeps it under wraps, it won’t interfere with her making court. She doesn’t seem keen on telling people so he doesn’t fight her on it. 

Doe. Doe is a problem. Erin grows up knowing that her mother didn’t want her to have any chance at finding her. Without a last name to trace, it would be hard. The only reason she even finds Aaron is he gets hurt while Tilda is on her date. He gets taken to the hospital but it's just a scratch that needs two or three stitches. Erin and Higgens happen to be there in a coincidence of massive proportions. He’s talking to Aaron about how there’s a girl who looks just like him when Erin comes out. She suffered a minor burn while helping Cassidy in the kitchen. Tilda comes to grab Aaron and she sees Erin. Erin and Aaron have identical facial features and similar builds. Women’s bodies naturally store more fat + her sweet tooth = her having a lot more squish but she’s beautiful and you can fight me. “Jude!” Tilda cries. Her cover is blown and now she can’t even hide that Erin is hers. 

With her empty facade and drugged mania, Erin is usually able to play off her hate for the name. Taking Aaron’s name helped a lot but it still hurts sometimes. Like the nickname ‘Eri’ she does take back the name. Look, Erin has a hard enough time dealing with a drunk Aaron on his own but Ania? She’s sappy as hell on a good day but drunk? Erin insists she can feel her teeth rotting with every word out of Ania’s mouth, quite a feat considering her diet. God forbid, the two of them get drunk together. It doesn’t happen often but when it does Erin always feels like she’s going to cry. After growing up believing that she isn’t capable of loving or being loved, being faced with the overwhelming love of the two of them, is really just too much for her. They’ll be leaning against one another drunkenly and catch sight of Erin. “Eri!” they cry. They always reach out and Erin always catches them. They do group hugs. It’s horrifying. They just sandwich Erin and it always leaves her shook. The two of them will sit side by side praising her. They talk about how strong she is, both physically and mentally/emotionally. They talk about how pretty and smart she is. They’re slurring their words and singing their praises for her and sometimes Erin does cry. Aaron will wipe her tears away and kiss her forehead. Ania will ask for permission to hold her bc Erin’s comfort is always top priority. They tell her they love her and Erin just doesn’t even know what to say. Anyway one day Ania is drunk and staring at Erin. 

“You’re eyes are so big n pretty. So big n brown n pretty like… like…”

“Like a doe!” Aaron cries. He gasps. “That’s why! That’s why they called you Erin Doe!” He looks so proud of himself like he’s just cracked case of the century. Little Doe becomes a pet name for her as well. Ania isn’t a blackout drunk so she knows what she’s doing. She’ll call Erin ‘little doe’ when Erin cuddles her or when Erin is mad. Erin thinks Aaron doesn’t remember any of this until she borrows his phone to call her own bc she lost it. She types in her number and it auto-populates with the contact name “Little Doe”. It makes her really soft.

#just a pipe dream #fem!andreil #erin minyard #ania josten #aaron minyard hc #aaron micheal minyard #aaron minyard #minyard twins #wholesome twinyards #twinyards hc #twinyards #reveal to me your deepest desires

[amoralto]

Playgirl: Paul! (June, 1982)

(Note: I’ve been wondering if I should include more full articles/interviews on the blog, i.e. pieces that are not already available and/or hosted online. This is one of them - more of an overview/feature piece, but worth a read nonetheless. For Paul and Linda’s 1985 interview w/ Playgirl, I typed it up a while ago here. Previous quote posts from both articles: here, here.) 

-

by Mark Rowland

He turns 40 this month, and if he is anything like the rest of us, the last 20 must feel as close as yesterday. Was it really so long ago that four working-class chums from a dingy English port town sang and laughed and shook their mop-tops to signal a crumbling of the old order and a hailing of the new? You look for the signs of age in recent photographs, but the changes are so subtle—a slight hollowing of those cherubic cheeks, perhaps a hint of wariness in eyes that used to sparkle with playful coquetry. Yes, time has been a gentle thief.

The lad who stole girls’ hearts all ’round the world is a husband of 13 years standing, and the father of four. The inveterate rock ’n’ roller divides his time between home and studio, now surfacing to promote a new album (Tug of War, Columbia), soon disappearing back into the mists of his Scotland farm. Which is just as it should be. Paul McCartney, handsome and rich and brimming with easy charm—and still the mirror in which we seek the reflection of our own youthful dreams.

“I like Walt Disney cartoons—they sort of live forever.” Paul McCartney

In fact, the last decade has not treated Paul all that kindly. When it becan he was, quite simply, a hero. By its close he’d become the subject of casual ridicule, a turnabout engineered in part by the mocking comments of his former best friend and musical compatriot, John Lennon. Any critical appraisal of his band, Wings, was bound to include unflattering comparisons to the Beatles and/or snide references to the credentials of its keyboard player, who just happened to be Paul’s wife.

And then there was Wings’ disastrous final episode, a triumphant tour of Japan that abruptly terminated when customs officials unearthed a hefty cache of marijuana in Paul’s luggage. Instead of Budokan’s concert stage, McCartney commenced a 10-day engagement “live” in the local jail, regaling his fellow inmates with renditions of “Yesterday” and “Mull of Kintyre”. Then he was deported.

“He certainly received quite a shock,” recalls Michael McCartney, Paul’s brother and the author of an affectionate family history entitled The Macs (Delilah Communications, Ltd.). “But even worse was the way the media deliberately distorted his situation. When I said I was angry at what was happening, for instance, they made it sound like I was angry at Paul. So just at the crucial moment, when the court is weighing judgment, they read the papers and think, ‘My God, even his own family thinks he’s a fool.’ It could have gone to his detriment, you know. He could have been locked up for years.”

Paul’s problem, of course, is that he has always appeared just a tad too sexy, too suave, too eager to please. His equipoise looms like a red flag to critics ready to knock him down a peg, and no matter that his temperament is genuinely affable. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in a bad mood,” contends rockabilly great Carl Perkins, a friend of nearly 20 years standing. “I’ve worked with a lot of greats, from Elvis to Dylan, and they could all get pretty moody at times. But Paul’s not like that. I’m sure he has a time and place, but it doesn’t interfere with his outward personality.” Though McCartney is far from invulnerable, it has never been his style to exorcise personal demons in public, a la John Lennon. Instead, he turns inward, to his family and his music. When the Beatles broke apart, Paul did both—he formed a new band with his wife.

“If you want the Beatles, go see Wings.” George Harrison

“I think I’m good. I like me, I’m good. I can dig me. Can you?” Paul McCartney

“He sounds like Englebert Humperdinck.” John Lennon

Wings took flight in 1971, when Paul and Linda joined forces with old pal Denny Laine (from the Moody Blues) and drummer Danny Seiwell. It endured, in various incarnations, for eight more years and eight more albums. Paul first conceived the band as a vehicle for playing small clubs and halls, a return to his rock roots and an emergence from the isolation that, in Paul’s view, had ultimately destroyed the Beatles. As a traveling show, Wings was a hit from the start—who wouldn’t want to hear Paul play the local pub?—but a succession of pop hits soon propelled him back to superstar-sized arenas and concert halls.

Critical acclaim was not so readily forthcoming. Without the Beatles’ special alchemy Paul’s romanticism tended to drift toward pap, lacking the spark of originality that characterized the best McCartney-Lennon collaborations. His most acrid critic, to Paul’s everlasting chagrin, turned out to be Lennon. For years they squabbled like ex’s unable to leave behind a stormy marriage, but when it came to sarcastic repartee John was in a class by himself. Japes like the one about Humperdinck, or the picture of John hoisting a pig by its ears (a wicked sendup of Paul holding up a sheep on the cover of his Ram album) wounded Paul deeply. He still has not entirely recovered; in a recent interview he claimed to draw fresh solace from his conversations with Yoko Ono. “She tells me something very important,” he revealed, “that John still loved me, after all.”

“Of course my brother and John loved each other,” declares Michael McCartney, “same as my brother and I do. Brothers have their feuds—you love ’em and you hate ’em. Oh, it’s easy enough to put all the negative parts under a microscope. I could have written a book called Paulie Dearest, slagged him to death and made millions. But it wouldn’t have been the truth. With Paul and John, though, all the dirty linen was brought out in public.”

Despite, or perhaps because of, such controversy, Paul continued to pour his energy into the music, and by 1976, his faith had been rewarded. Wings toured America that year like conquering heroes. McCartney was hailed on the cover of Time, and the band’s crack performances drew wildly ecstatic crowds and rave reviews. Amidst all the hoopla, however, Paul and Linda remained serene and jocular, causing one associate to marvel that McCartney was the only touring rock star around who knew how to keep a grip on his sanity.

”Groupies, chicks. It was fabulous. I loved it. There was no stopping me after a (Beatles) show. I was the biggest raver out. But I got to thinking, ‘What am I doing with my life? Who am I getting to know? What one chick do I know as a pal?’ And there weren’t any… Mainly, I’d sown enough wild oats. Making love does become a sort of commitment—I love the idea of vows and stuff. To tell the truth, it keeps me kind of straight.” Paul McCartney, 1974

“I’m not sophisticated, a good conversationalist, looking good all the time. I don’t think of myself like Jacqueline Kennedy or Patricia Nixon.” Linda McCartney, 1974

Paul was always the most desirable of the Beatle bachelors, and by the end of the sixties, he was the only one left. Any whiff of serious romance merited close scrutiny by the press. Thus, Linda “no relation to Kodak” Eastman was in for some rough sport, when, after a relatively swift courtship, she and Paul tied the knot in 1969. A rock photographer at the Fillmore East who’d enjoyed acquaintanceships with various rock figures previous to meeting Paul, she was dubbed the “Park Avenue groupie”—a sobriquet that says more about rock’s inbred sexism than Linda’s character. (Years later, Rolling Stone slurred Joni Mitchell in much the same fashion.)

Nonetheless, Paul and Linda took to the life of domestic bliss with remarkable dispatch, a condition rather smugly documented on their first two records together, Ram and Wild Life. Since then, however, they’ve managed to sustain the ideal of traditional marriage and family—no mean feat in this era of celebrity swapstakes. Though rumors of discord surface from time to time, from all indications, their marriage remains solid. Indeed, one of the highlights of the Wings Over America tour was Paul’s impassioned rendition of “My Love”, crooning the hook “my love does it gooood” while a smiling Linda posed before the multitudes, hands on hips, letting no one miss the implications of that particular song.

“Paul would be sort of a Republican.” John Eastman, Paul’s brother-in-law and business manager

According to the Guinness Book of World Records, Paul McCartney is “the most honored man in music.” One is naturally inclined to trust Guinness in these matters, and Paul’s statistics do tell an amazing story—over 100 million album sales, 100 million singles sales and, separately, 43 million-selling songs. Since 1970, all 10 of Paul’s records (solo and with Wings) have been certified gold by the Record Industry Association of America. The last five releases have also gone platinum (over a million units sold), and his newest, Tug of War, which features Ringo, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson and Carl Perkins, is certain to do the same.

During the sixties, however, only a small part of the Beatles’ fabulous success translated into personal wealth. For many years the band relied on a loose network of acquaintances to handle their financial matters—most proved either honest or competent, but rarely both. But under the guidance of John Eastman, Paul has since realized a vast financial empire, with an estimated annual income, mostly from record and publishing royalties, of about $40 million. His publishing house, MPL, originally established for tax purposes, is the largest independent song publisher in the world, holding the rights to scores from Grease, Annie, Hello Dolly, A Chorus Line, Bye Bye Birdie and Mame; standards from “On, Wisconsin” to “Stormy Weather” and “Autumn Leaves”; the entire catalog of Buddy Holly songs, rags by Scott Joplin, songs by Ira Gershwin, even the theme to the Dinah Shore TV show. And in a recent twist of fate, Paul and Yoko are currently negotiating with British mogul Sir Lew Grade to buy back Northern Songs, the catalog of early Beatles hits (including “Yesterday”) that was sold during the sixties. The whimsical Beatle has turned out to be one savvy entrepreneur.

Less publicized, however, are McCartney’s frequent gestures of charity. He’s performed various benefits for UNESCO, and, in 1979,, following a plea from then-Secretary General of the United Nations Kurt Waldheim, he personally organized a giant pop concert to raise the emergency relief aid for Kampuchea. The event and subsequent album, Concerts for the People of Kampuchea (featuring the Who, Queen, the Pretenders and Elvis Costello, among others), has netted UNICEF over $600,000 to date, according to organization officials. A concert movie will also be released around the United States and Europe this summer.

McCartney’s generosity crops up in smaller, more personal encounters. “When I first decided to become a writer, I sent a bunch of stuff to Paul,” recalls Laura Gross, now a radio interviewer at KRLA, the “Beatles station” of Los Angeles. “Then, when he came to L.A., I knocked on the door of his hotel, and he said ‘Oh yes, I’ve read your stuff, you ought to send us what you’re doing. Linda and I are very interested.’ Here I was, a stranger and a nobody, and he took the time to be kind. He gave me encouragement at a time when that was very important to me.”

“He was my boss,” observes Wings guitarist Laurence Juber, “but he was also my teacher. At one point he gave me a fairly substantial budget just so I could develop my own ideas. He’s an extremely benevolent sort of person, but he doesn’t shout about it. He’s aware of his responsibility to other talents, otherwise he wouldn’t be a nice person, and he is a nice person. Of course, he’s always got that element of cockiness about him, because he’s come such a long way. Don’t forget, he was just a kid off the street in Liverpool. That’s all any of them were.”

“Phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust.” The Clash

“I love Paul, he’s my favourite—brown, white, red, blue or green! He is the Beatles.” Little Richard, interviewed by KRLA’s Laura Gross

In 1974, Mark Lapidos decided to put together a kind of giant swap meet and communal gathering for Beatles fans. He called it Beatlefest, rented a hall, and ended up admitting 7,000 people and turning away thousands more. This year, Beatlefest will span 11 days in four different U.S. cities, as interest continues to mount in a group that called it quits more than a decade ago. “We’re not living in the past,” Lapidos insists. “You take surveys now and ask young people their favourite group and what do they say? The Beatles! Their music will not die. It is the cultural phenomenon of the century.”

Lapidos may be right. The past year has evidenced yet another spate of books and articles about the Beatles, along with discoveries of long-dormant radio recordings and master tapes by the Fab Foursome. And if anything, the hideous murder of John Lennon in December 1980 seems to have inspired fans to rekindle the flame of memory. “We simply couldn’t let that act destroy such an important part of our lives,” explains Lapidos. “Actually, we became more like family, pulling closer together after we’d lost our brother.”

The man who knew John Lennon best was devastated by his murder. Paul’s friend, Paddy Moloney of the Chieftains, remembers seeing McCartney looking “stunned. He said it was useless and tragic, (but) I don’t think it had penetrated that John was gone forever. I’m sure it took a few days for that to sink in.” When it did, Paul turned, as he always did in times of crisis, to his closest ally—music. At the suggestion of friend and producer George Martin, he shifted base from London to Martin’s studio on the Caribbean island of Montserrat, away from the obtrusive glare of the media. Once settled in with Linda and the kids, he called up Ringo, Wingsmate Denny Laine, Carl Perkins, Stevie Wonder, and embarked on the most ambitious and painstaking project of his musical career.

“I have never met a more dedicated musician than Paul McCartney. He’ll work all night on a little guitar lick until he gets it just the way he wants it. He’s a perfectionist.” Carl Perkins

The intensity of his commitment on Montserrat became its own kind of therapy. Between sessions the musicians would swim, sun on the beach, or take Jeep rides along the scenic island trails. But after two months, McCartney and Martin returned to London, where they continued to refine the material for another year. The sessions had produced two albums worth of music; the second set was still in its final stages of completion when I phoned Martin’s studio in March. A spokesperson remarked that McCartney was anxiously awaiting its public reception. “I think Paul wants to have a truly ‘musical’ success this time, not just a popular one,” she declared. “He really wants to be recognized for achieving something.”

In the past decade, McCartney’s most trying periods have often fostered his best work—McCartney and Ram, following the Beatles split; Band on the Run in 1973, when Wings was coming apart at the seams, and to a lesser extent, Back to the Egg in 1979, amidst persistent rumors that Paul and Linda’s marriage was on the rocks. But all of those efforts pale, I think, beside Tug of War. Here Paul has finally cast off the aureole of calculated cuteness that marred so much of his seventies music, and penned lyrics that are evocative, unsentimental and deeply personal. At the same time, the album’s sheer range and spunky, let’s-try-it-on spirit recalls the Beatles at their most ambitious, from the daring juxtaposition of rock ’n’ roll rhythm and big band texture that propels “Ballroom Dancing” to the graceful, quirky country swing duet with Perkins, to the hothouse funk of “What’s That”, a six-minute corker with Stevie Wonder that bears favorable comparison to Wonder’s own “Superstition”. Yet the record’s most eloquent moment is its most elemental—a quiet, heartfelt paean to McCartney’s fallen brother, entitled “Here Today.”

And if I said I really knew you well, What would your answer be? Well, knowing you, You’d probably laugh, And say that we were worlds apart If you were here today… here today.

Every era has its myths—from Jesus to Camelot to the Beatles—and every myth exists to fill the special needs of its culture. As Beatle Paul, he will always play the courtly knight, the crooning Lancelot in shining Nehru jacket. But the real Paul McCartney is no more or less than a talented musician with wife and kids, nearing middle age and trying, along with the rest of us, to sort out the various slings and arows of life’s fortune. It is no put-down to say that nothing he ever does, no matter how accomplished, can again approach the majesty of the legend he once helped create, precisely because it is a legend.

“Why should the Beatles give more?” John Lennon once asked, with characteristic bluntness. “Didn’t they give everything on God’s earth for 10 years? Didn’t they give themselves?”

So now Lennon is gone, though his restless, vibrant spirit survives among the living. And now Paul McCartney, unarguably one of the premier artists of his generation, continues with his own life’s work, which is simply to make music for the world to hear and enjoy; perhaps even be touched by.

#1982 #paul mccartney #paul and linda #full article placeholder tag

[mpltab]

REVIEW - Channel Orange - Frank Ocean

Singer, songwriter, rapper, record producer and photographer Frank Ocean shines on his debut studio album, Channel Orange. At 17 tracks long, the R&B-oriented record was released by Def Jam on July 10, 2012. All of the songs are written and produced at least partly by Ocean. Frequent collaborators Malay and Om’mas Keith have writing and producing credits on more than half of the songs as well. Fellow Odd Future members Earl Sweatshirt and Tyler, the Creator assist on production and writing as well.

The sonic landscape of the album is truly beautiful. Ocean goes in many different directions on the same canvas, and draws sounds from a lot of interesting places. The opening track “Start” samples the sound of a Playstation being turned on. The track immediately segues into the mega-popular single “Thinkin Bout You,” in which Ocean wistfully sings about a past relationship. The song is both sweet, but with lines like “Got a beach house I could sell you in Idaho” and “Got a fighter jet, I don't get to fly it though, I'm lying down” it doesn’t take itself too seriously. From here, the album really takes off. After a short cover of James Fauntleroy’s “Fertilizer,” we find Frank Ocean taking the listeners down an unlit alley. Although the instrumental is heavenly, the lyrics tell a story of a young boy who got a girl pregnant.

The darkness of that track is immediately countered by the brightness of the following track, “Sweet Life.” The song explores the effects of wealth on people. Frank asks the question “Why see the world when you got the beach?”, and follows up this question with the realization that many rich people simply cannot relate to anything at all. Finally, the little bass outro on this track is AMAZING, and is a great example of some of the little things that make this album so great. Soon after this, we get to a standout track “Super Rich Kids,” featuring rapper Earl Sweatshirt. The track goes through the day of extremely wealthy teenagers who are left uncared for with nothing but material possessions surrounding them in multimillion dollar homes. “Super Rich Kids” is my personal favorite track on this record, and Earl Sweatshirt’s verse is what put me on to his music in the first place (by the way, if you have not listened to Earl’s music you should! Doris and Some Rap Songs are absolutely great albums). Another high point on the album is “Crack Rock”, which tells the story of a man who is absolutely helpless due to his addiction to crack-cocaine. This is one of the best written songs on the album. Lines like “You don't know how little you matter until you're all alone” and “You're shuckin' and jivin', stealin' and robbin' / To get the fixing that you're itching for / Your family stopped inviting you to things, won't let you hold their infant” paint a pretty harrowing picture of addiction. Following that track, we have the song “Pyramids,” which clocks in at nearly ten minutes. One of the most ambitious songs of the decade, the song tells the story of a pimp who falls in love with one of his clients. Full of bright 808s and spacey keys, the song is truly a painting of a song. An impressive John Mayer guitar solo takes us to the outro of the song. The last leg of the album is remarkable in itself. The four song stretch of “Monks, ” “Bad Religion,” “Pink Matter” and “Forrest Gump” is nothing short of incredible. “Monks” has a very fun energy to it, and is surprisingly catchy. “Bad Religion” is some of the most powerful singing Frank Ocean has ever done, and the lyrics are absolutely heart-wrenching. Lines like “I swear I've got three lives / Balanced on my head like steak knives / I can't tell you the truth about my disguise / I can't trust no one” really hit home, and are sung very well. The highlight of “Pink Matter” is Andre 3000’s verse and guitar playing. The guitar sounds like ambient noise, but gets more powerful as the song continues. The verse flows incredibly well, and is amongst Andre 3000’s best. Following that track is “Forrest Gump,” a song about unrequited love for another man. The instrumental is really inspired, with nostalgia inducing guitars and subtle drums. The best part of the song to me, however, is when what sounds like a crowd of people join in with Frank to sing the second chorus. And the whistling at the end!

In his debut record, Frank Ocean puts together a masterful R&B project. Blending rap and smooth singing over grand instrumentals created a pretty impressive effort, and I would love to see another album like this from him.

My rating: 9.3/10

Favorite tracks: Fertilizer, Sweet Life, Super Rich Kids (ft. Earl Sweatshirt),  Pilot Jones, Pyramids, Monks, Bad Religion, Forrest Gump

Least favorite tracks: White, End

Frank Ocean’s “Channel Orange” is available to stream on Hoopla, which is free using your library card! Ocean released two albums in 2016: “Endless” and “Blonde”. The status of his next project is unknown. Want to talk about this album? Email me at [email protected]!

[callmeakumatized]

My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend - Ch. 19

Prev. Ch. Ao3 ff.net Next Ch

- Present -

 "Marinette? How do you know my Kwami's name?"

Adrien slipped his phone back into his pocket, never taking his eyes off of Ladybug's face. Her entire frame froze at the question, the only hint that she had heard him at all was a pink tinge appearing at the edge of her mask. The image made Adrien a little more than suspicious. He didn't know if her silence was from thinking about how to reply or if she simply refused to reply at all…and he didn't know which aftereffect would be worse. Before he could voice any further concerns or questions, though, Ladybug opened her mouth.

"You told me," she said simply, angling her further incriminatingly-blushing face out the not-wide-enough-to-escape crack of the door. Adrien snorted at the obvious lie.

"I did not," Adrien retorted, matching her same false-easy tone.

"Uh, yeah, you did."

Oh, so we're going to play this game? Adrien tried and failed to not roll his eyes. When she crossed her arms over her chest in defiance at the look on his face – he probably looked like he didn't believe her at all because she was lying through her teeth – Adrien did the same.

"I did not," Adrien reiterated, raising his voice a little and his eyebrows a lot in an unmistakable challenge.

"Well, you did, so –"

"Marinette, I did not – !"

Two gloved hands suddenly slapped over his mouth. Adrien had taken a step forward in the small space so he could be directly in front of her; he needed her honesty right then, to see it in her eyes, yank it from her if he had to. Yet, at her touch, he stopped, the force of the action almost pushing him backward.

Ladybug's features had contorted to an upturned snarl. The tiny nose on her face shot like an arrow into the air, as if she were trying to make herself appear more intimidating even though she lacked the stature Adrien possessed. The look was, admittedly, piercing enough, though the ferocity of it was thrown off by the myriad of red hues painting her face. She was completely flushed. Adrien could see the heat on Ladybug's ears and neck as clear as he had ever seen it on Marinette's face, even here in the dimness of the closet. Her conflicting reactions caused Adrien's brow to crease with something like annoyance. Two hands grasped her own firmly, moving to remove them from his pursed lips. To Adrien's surprise, Ladybug willingly acquiesced, putting up no resistance to his touch or otherwise. The surrender was so incomprehensively foreign to Adrien that he paused in his motions to study her face. But while he searched for answers, he was instead met with a transformation that only added to his bewilderment.

All of Ladybug's willpower seemed to cave in to the blush at his touch. Her eyes widened, losing every ounce of animosity. The skin that wasn't red or covered by a mask (which, really, would count in the 'red' category) blanched. The leering expression was gone, too, replaced by an open-mouthed stare.

Ladybug, the superheroine of Paris, was abruptly the stark picture of doe-like innocence and timidity.

And, frankly, the whole picture scared Adrien to death.

No, it wasn't because of some secret she had kept from him all this time that had just blown up in her face

It was because, for some reason, Ladybug looking stunned was absolutely stunning.

Adrien, brain forgotten, pushed away his previously-inflamed desire to uncover another one of his girlfriend's secrets in pursuit of some more immediate gratification to his unceasing curiosity. He tentatively dropped her hands to his chest, then slowly, deliberately, Adrien let his fingers ghost a trail up her arms, pressing the tips gently into the strange material of her suit. It was an odd mixture of hards and softs, like silky armor. The feel was soothing, but the strength of it practically radiated through the thin layer.

Adrien huffed out a small laugh. Fitting, he thought to himself. Her suit was all disguised toughness, layers of beauty covering a shell made of diamonds. It was so Ladybug and so Marinette that it made him grin to himself.

It was a funny thing. In his dream (latest dream, as he had, admittedly, many dreams involving all sides of their "Love Square"), his dream-self had halted its physical recognition at her suit. He figured it was because his conscious hadn't been able to even think of what her suit (or his suit, for that matter) could possibly feel like.

But…Ladybug's suit?

Adrien had felt this before…

Adrien had barely managed to escape The Gorilla. The man had learned his tricks over the years, and while he turned a blind eye every blue moon or so, the staunch bodyguard had put up more resistance today.

Sure, shouting "Akuma!" like a lunatic when they had walked by a rather innocent-looking mime and running away screaming might not have made him seem very brave - or sane. But when all his other plans had failed, desperation had taken over with a vengeance.

(For his own future reference: Desperate Adrien was surprisingly stupider than Desperate Chat.)

Adrien nearly passed out from sheer exertion, but never slowed. He could see it, the mouth of the alley they had agreed to meet in, and it spurred it on.

"They", in this instance, meaning him and some crazy person.

Meeting in an alley.

Away from his bodyguard.

…He really needed to get Plagg back.

Thoughts of Plagg and Adrien's own pathetic musings of how he would ever explain this to His Lady (he wouldn't, that was that) pulled unpityingly at the end of his nerves. A breakdown was imminent if he didn't get Petit Chat Destructeur back on his person and away from any –

An almost sickening crack sounded somewhere between Adrien's shoulder and hip bone when he slammed unceremoniously against another form after taking the turn into the alley a bit too sharp. The two rounded over each other before meeting the wall of the one of the buildings in a two-body sandwich, Adrien sinking temporarily into a fog-filled stupor.

Really, he should have been paying better attention to what he was currently doing. Especially when running at I-Lost-My-Kwami-and-I'm-Running-Away-From-My-Babysitter kilometers per hour.

Struggling to find purchase before effectively flattening whoever was under him, Adrien's hand padded around for a moment before feeling something and grasping onto it. He stopped when his hand slipped, the slick texture he had slipped upon proving immediately to be ill-equipped at holding his weight.

The figure froze under him, but Adrien, still blinking spots out of his eyes, didn't –

Wait.

The figure…

Figure!?

Clarity smacked him in the face like a wet tuna on a barbecue.

He was on TOP OF SOMEBODY.

Adrien's eyes chanced a little peek down when the PERSON BENEATH HIM ripped the photo he had nicked from his unoccupied hand.

His "occupied" hand lent the helpful hint: this is a girl.

It was definitely a girl.

Move your hand, dummy! Adrien's brain yelled at him.

Where!? Adrien feebly replied.

He peeked over at the girl's face but saw nothing but some strange assortment of things that would have his father vomiting for the next month. It was a very…bewildering girl, covered in things too large or too ridiculous as some sort of "disguise" over a…was that a Ladybug suit?

Ladybug?

Wait…

No…

It wasn't…couldn't actually be…

…Yup, it was.

That was the crappiest replica of a mask Adrien had ever seen.

Adrien double-checked to make sure the hoopla-wearing she-beast who stole Plagg (presumably, though he had yet to see him, though he swore he heard snickering in the garbage can earlier) and his phone was sufficiently distracted. Then, tentatively, he lifted up the giNORmous t-shirt she had put on and trace his fingers along the material he had felt just a moment before.

The strange, almost "magical", red material with black. Spots.

But why would…? And how…? And why –

Adrien, hand still unabashedly feeling the midriff area of the female stranger, was cut off from his thoughts that were one step away from entering Crazyville when a dreamy sigh came from whoever was on the other side of that photograph.

"You can touch more of that if you want to."

Adrien didn't remember much after that. Except being so red for the rest of that evening he was forced to stay home from school the next day because Nathalie had thought he had contracted some type of heinous fever that caused hallucinations.

In all honestly, Adrien had wondered the same thing. For months. Until the ordeal was all but forgotten, stored and locked away in that corner of his mind where rested the giant filing cabinet labeled: "Things Ladybug Will Never Hear From Me."

It was some type of cruel irony that he was being forced to relive many of these events now simply from the realization that Ladybug had been a part of them all along.

"You can touch more of that if you want to."

Adrien, modest model that he was, had blushed from this simple line before because he had been caught sorta-accidentally feeling-up some girl in a dark alleyway while somewhat crouched over her.

Adrien, Chat Noir that he was, was blushing now because he truly knew, for the first time, who had actually said those words, all while he was crashed on top of her in a dark alleyway and she was ogling a (technically) stolen photo of him.

Ah, la vache!

"You–"

Adrien not-figuratively-at-all choked on his words when he attempted to speak upon his sudden comprehension. Ladybug only tilted her head back at him, the pretty picture of confused innocence that was doing N-O-T-H-I-N-G to help keep his thoughts from crashing off the rails. After taking a step back, pulling his gaze away, and making a right show of clearing his throat, Adrien tried again.

"Y-You're the crazy stalker girl."

The little bubble of awkward companionship they had been sharing inside this small space tangibly popped.

"What?" Ladybug squawked, a little higher-pitched than it had been previously.

"You're the crazy stalker girl!" Adrien's fingers were in his hair now, and he pulled the ends in pent-up frustration at, well, just about everything. There wasn't much room to pace in th closet, but Adrien was making good use of the tight space.

"You're the one who stole my phone," he accused again, the words coming out as more of a statement than truly incriminating. It was fact; she knew it, and he knew it now too. "And Plagg! And OH MY GOSH – !"

"It wasn't that big of a deal!" Ladybug squeaked out hurriedly, her usual self-confident and slightly indignant self starting to peek through the cracks of her guiltless façade. Though her tone was nothing short of powerful, Adrien noticed her eyes darting to the side, like she knew better.

They both erupted at once.

"You stole my Kwami! And I –"

"It was Alya's fault! She –"

"– panicked! You made me panic –"

"– did something so stupid –"

"– can't believe how irresponsible –"

"– and it shouldn't have even happened –"

"– and it was all your fault!" they ended together.

The phrase "staring daggers" would have fallen short here. Between their heaving chests sat a hot spark of something, but it felt less like actual hostility, or malice, and more like…

Ladybug, eyes still furrowed in deep lines by the shadowy darkness, glanced quickly at his lips.

…yeah. Something like that.

Suddenly the question of how the cheese and biscuits any of that mess was his fault melted away into some sort of hope that maybe everything was in the clear now. Had they played everything yet? Were all their cards on the table?

Adrien's attention was drawn to Ladybug biting her lip and…watched in silent agony when she peered at his own again.

Nnnnggg…

How many years – years – had they been together now, and somehow it still surprised Adrien beyond anything that this girl, this amazing young woman, wanted him.

Wanted him enough to steal his phone and his Kwami and dress up in something Gabriel Agreste would have sent an army of Akumas to annihilate had he seen it just to somehow get everything back to him. The reasons, really, were lost to him at that moment. He, well, he had learned that he really should trust her now.

Because, frankly, that's what you do in a committed relationship.

(And because that's what you do in cases of self-preservation when your girlfriend is a super-powered bug-lady that will kill you if you ever doubt her ever, ever again.)

Adrien's brain begged a reboot.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Adrien's hands moved involuntarily closer to His Lady's face. That dream, that antagonizing dream, was still fresh in his mind (obviously), and, noting that they were quite free of their Kwami wardens for the moment, Adrien was anxious to make sure that in his next dream, he got the full 4D experience.

The softness of her hair had barely brushed against his fingers, and Ladybug nearly slumped forward into him in repressed eagerness at the touch. The excitement she emanated caused Adrien's hands to tremble, his face growing warmer by the second. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Adrien's heart swelled at the action.

She trusts me, too.

This thought, above everything else, pushed the temptation to kiss her into overwhelming proportions. Why this small physical contact that nearly everyone in the world shared with someone was so precious to him, to them both, he didn't know. It could come from constantly living in near-death experiences, or perhaps was born from the fact that they had shared and/or rescued each other from those life-threatening instances. Perhaps it was just that their eyes had seen and their hearts had felt things that they instinctually knew no one else – excepting, perhaps, other Miraculous users – had experienced.

Or maybe it was because they were so bum blasted attracted to each other.

And while he could sit and philosophize on why "each time felt like the first time", Adrien was just trying to take it all in that this – this Adrien and Ladybug thing happening right here – was something new between them.

Ladyrien? he mused, tracing the lines where her mask met her skin.

Ladrien? He tried to pointedly ignore the shaky breath Ladybug let out. Did they really have no more secrets between them? The thought itself was rather intoxicating.

Adribug?

A smile played on Adrien's lips as he bent his head lower to where she stood, waiting. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him as his hands moved slowly over Ladybug's rosy cheeks, her feverish skin igniting his own. He cradled her head and he could feel her expectant smirk.

"Adrien…"

Yup, Adribug, he smiled against her lips, definitely Adribug…

"– better get up there quickly, there was like…ah geez."

There was a lot of banging and yelping that met Plagg when the little cat finally looked around at the scene he had just interrupted. The Kwami was talking through a partial mouthful of cheese already, but after surveying the wreckage at his feet, he rolled his eyes and shoved the rest of his wedge in.

Adrien, covered in several varieties of cleaning products and what smelled like paint, shot Plagg a death glare. Ladybug, lady luck that she was, had merely jumped at the sound of Plagg's voice, remaining unscathed by their surroundings.

Adrien had skittered like a shot cat.

"Wha?" Plagg scoffed at Adrien's indignance, hardly succeeding at speaking intelligibly around his now bigger mawful of cheese. "S'nah muh faul' 'ou waided 'il now to tasd 'ur own sweets."

All the progress Adrien had made in righting himself under the closet debris came crashing down – literally – when the blond-haired boy's understanding of Plagg's statement finally clicked.

[[ Translation, in case you don't read/speak over-stuffed Kwami:

What? It's not my fault you waited til now to taste your own sweets. 8) ]]

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #My Girlfriend's Boyfriend #adrien agreste #plagg #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien x marinette #adrinette #adrienette #ladybug x adrien #ladrien #chat noir x ladybug #ladynoir #tikki #tikki x plagg #marinette x chat noir #marichat #fanfic #fanfiction #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fanart #fluff #humor #kissing #awkward

[inklingleesquidly]

Lee meets Ashleigh & Jet

A simple run of flyers for Moms For Safe Turf Wars turns into a meeting with a brand new little friend and his mom. Will Lee’s charm win over a stone cold woman like Ashleigh? Find out!

Featuring the squids of @toma-top / @inklingdinkling

Word Count: 2,015 words

Located in the heart of Inkopolis's Shee-Booyah ward was the Flounder Heights housing complex. It was the joke of the town that literally everyone lived there and with good reason because it was largely true. Being considered one of the best and safest places in the city to raise a family, families of all kinds lived there. Some were typical; a mom and a dad, though some had two moms, two dads, and some with only one parent. Out of all of them one such family was about to have a meeting with a rather special guest.

The ringing of her apartment's doorbell forced Ashleigh out of her chair. What would have been a solitary minute to sit down was ruined by some unexpected guest, one who seemed to keep continuously ringing the door chime. "Okay, okay, I'm coming, keep your shirt on already." She mumbled to herself despite knowing full well whoever was on the other side of the door couldn't hear her. Without removing the security chain, she cracked open the door and peeked out, "All right I'm here, what is it?" After uttering those words, her tone of voice at the slight annoyance caused her to sound more agitated than she would've intended with a potential guest.

Looking down, there was an Inkling boy clutching a stack of papers in his hands. He straightened his posture and looked up at Ashleigh with the biggest blue eyes she ever saw, and a smile that was a little too bright for so early in the morning. He started with an apology, "Ohh I'm sorry," then he continued as if he was making a sales pitch, "Good morning ma'am! I'm here to give you a flyer for Moms For Safe Turf Wars. They would love for you to join the chapter here at Flounder Heights since we're located so close to Booyah Base."

Ashleigh turned her nose up and replied, "Sorry, not interested, my kid isn't even old enough to play Turf Wars." Again, it didn't register until after she said it but she realized how unnecessarily curt her response was. He was just a kid after all and he was probably just helping his parents spread the word about their P.T.A. group so she thought. It was also bothersome to her because the committees that officiated Turf War battles didn't particularly mix well with her and her business.

The boy was undeterred though as he excitably proclaimed, "We'll maybe he'll like the Creampuff League! It's a special game for squishies where they have smaller ink weapons and they—they tag each other instead of—umm, instead of splatting each other." She noticed his way of speaking became strange, and stranger was how he moved. He probably didn't think she would notice since his face was focused on her but she saw his eyes grow wide and dart from side to side. It looked as if something was perplexing him, but what it was she didn't know. He finished his thought by stuttering, "But umm—take a flyer anyway, they got lots of—of great coupons for stores and things around here so—I think you'd like it." With his mouth hanging open and how he looked she finally realized it was her that made him so befuddled.

Finding that kind of gawking stare to be impolite, Ashleigh curled her lip, making her cheek wrinkle as she answered, "Take a picture, it'll last longer." He was a teenager, he should know better than to stare like that.

That seemed to snap him out of his stupor and right away he profusely apologized. "I'm so-so-so sorry ma'am, honest I am, I didn't mean anything bad it's just--."

"--Just what?" Ashleigh wondered, impatiently tapping her fingernails against the door.

He finally managed to say, "Your piercings."

"My piercings," she said right away. "What about them?" She earnestly wondered what about her rods and rings could intrigue someone with such a clean babyface and even cleaner looking clothes.

She never would've expected his answer to be, "I—I think they're super cool!" It was such a surprise to her that she didn't interrupt him as he proceeded to compliment her, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone with so many, I didn't know you could get that many on your ears, and so many different kinds, do you have them any anywhere else?" In that moment she thought to question his motives since it didn't occur to her that someone could be THAT interested in something that was a regular part of herself and her life.

There wasn't time to dwell on that thought as a tiny voice called out to Ashleigh from within her apartment. "Momma the squidpad keeps turning off!"

That plea from her son made her click her tongue in annoyance. "Again?" She groaned, "Great, I'll have to send that thing in again to get fixed."  Their only tablet computer continuously kept having mysterious problems, much to her chagrin.

The voice of their visitor called to her from the open door, "Ma'am are you having computer trouble? I know a little bit about that sort of thing."

A little bit was the extent of her knowledge about computers as well—but then again maybe he knew something she didn't? Mulling it over for that moment, Ashleigh momentarily closed the door, released the locking chain, and opened it fully. "Come in," she simply said, granting him access to her home. "Jet-honey, can you come here please?"

Into the room came a tiny little squishy squid with the same ink color as Ashleigh and one rather long tentacle. He greeted her with a smile, "Hi Momma," then he earnestly wondered, "Who's that man?"

That was a good question, one Asheligh didn't actually have the answer to but she tried to introduce him, "This is--."

"--That's your son?" He suddenly interrupted with a rather overly-enthusiastic raise in his voice's volume, "He's so cute!" There seemed to be no restraints for his enthusiasm and Jet seemed to like that.

Jet repeated, "You think I'm cute?" He looked down, letting out a small, appreciative though embarrassed giggle before he asked, "What's your name, mine's Jet!"

"I'm Lee," the teenage boy finally introduced himself only to take notice of the tablet computer clutched underneath the younger child’s arm. "Hey, is that your squidpad?" With a confirming nod from Jet, he continued, "Can I take a look at it? If it's not doing so good I might be able to help."

Unsure, Jet looked toward his mom who could only sigh. Ashleigh finally conceded, "Go right ahead." With his mother's direction, the squishy boy handed the tablet to their guest. She quickly added, "I want you to stay in the kitchen though.”

Making it seem like she was keeping herself busy washing dishes, Ashleigh discreetly kept a watchful eye on her son and their visitor. She was cautious as any mother would be and even though she continued to absentmindedly sprinkle water on the same dish for minutes on end, she was amazed by Lee's interactions with her son. Not only did he help him safely get into his booster seat but as he connected a wire between the tablet and his own smartphone he pointed between them and made gestures that seemed to make Jet smile and lean in in awe. Her boy did wear a smile quite often but it still overjoyed her to see her boy taken in by Lee and everything he did.

In what felt like no time at all, Lee disconnected the chord and said, “There we go it should be good as new.” With one press of the power button the screen illuminated and the home screen appeared lightning fast.

Elated, Jet snatched up the tablet and ran up to his mother. “Momma, Momma look, Lee fixed the squidpad!”

Smiling earnestly for her little boy, Ashleigh put down the single sparkling clean dish and replied, “That's wonderful, Honey.”

What he said next took her by surprise. “I'm also sorry Momma.” She was about to ask where that apology came from only for him to explain, “Lee said I kept accident-all-y putting on a lot of bad things that made the Squidpad sick and that's why it was slow and didn't wanna turn on anymore. I promise I won't do it again.” He looked up at her with big pleading eyes but her focus was on Lee.

The timid teenager tepidly touched the back of his head and said through a nervous smile, “Jet, you didn't have to tell her all of that.” It wasn’t his intention to make him feel bad about an honest mistake he didn’t understand or to get him in trouble with his mom.

Despite that, Jet asked, “Can Lee come over and play again, Momma? He said he knows really nice coloring books and other apps so please, Momma?”

She thought about it for another moment then said, “We'll see, but go play in your room, I have to have a talk with Lee.”

“Yes Momma,” Jet said before dashing off, leaving the two alone.

Without fully realizing it her resting serious face returned but before she could say what she wanted to say to the boy he interrupted her, “Ohh I almost forgot,” he began. He poked at his phone screen, explaining, “I saw you had a lot of pictures and I didn’t think you’d want to lose them so I did the best I could to save all of them to my Dripbox. If I could just get your phone number I’ll send you the link to the folder so you can get them back.”

Her eyes went wide; in all if the hoopla she hadn't even thought about all of the family photos she had stored on her tablet. She couldn’t believe it; who was this kid to be so sweet considerate and excitable? Wondering just that, she said; “Well it looks like your mom really raised you right.”

“Heh-eh,” he chuckled quietly, “I'll be sure to tell her that.”

“Jet really seems to like you,” Ashleigh reminded both him and herself. It had been awhile; maybe she should try her luck? “I have a question for you; my boyfriend asked me out this Saturday… and a few Saturdays before that and I can’t find anyone to watch Jet. Would you be interested?”

That proposition seemed to make the stars in his eyes twinkle brighter than ever before as he babbled, “Bub-beh-jibbeh-wha—would I?!”

“Would you?” She repeated the question, finding her own stone cold features beginning to soften at his enthusiasm.  That didn’t stop her from maintaining her necessary motherly disposition; “But turn the dial back from 11 to 2, I still need to make sure you’re as good a kid as I think you are. How about you come over for the next few days after I get off of work and pick Jet up from kindergarten so we can get to know each other better?”

The stipulation didn't seem to be a bother to him; in fact it seemed to thrill Lee even more. He clenched his fists and assured, "I'm so there, I promise I won't dissapoint you!" With that he seemed to turn on his heel, ready to leave but Ashleigh had one more pearl of wisdom to offer him.

"Hold on there," she halted, "There's just one more thing."

He stopped and curiously quizzed, "What is it?"

A lopsided smile curled Ashleigh's lips as she approached him. "Earlier you asked if I had anymore piercings." When she came within arm's length her smile grew to show her teeth as she put a hand atop his head. "Never ask a lady personal questions, especially ones you might not be prepared to handle the answers to."

Those words sounded so ominous and he had no idea what she meant—but Lee had a feeling he was better off that way. His answer for her was an utterly timid, "Y-yes Ma'am."

"Call me Asleigh, Hon," she said with a sincere smile.

#splatoon #nintendo #fan fiction #lee squidly

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #415

Top Ten Films that Should Have Dominated the Oscars

So it was the Oscars last weekend. I didn’t watch, as it’s on in the middle of the night and you have to leave a lantern in the shape of Bob Hope burning outside your house if you want access to the telecast, or some arcane nonsense. I used to watch it, either staying up late or recording it for the next day’s enjoyment; this was back in the good old days when the show would go to a commercial and the BBC broadcast would cut to Barry Norman in a studio somewhere discussing the night’s events with, I dunno, Tracey Ullman or Julian Sands or something.

Anyway, it was nice that Parasite won, just because it’s nice to see a foreign language film winning Best Picture. I wasn’t too caught up with the hype and hoopla this year, because I didn’t have a dog in the race; sadly, I’d barely seen any of the nominated films. Also, Avengers: Endgame was more-or-less nowhere to be seen. In previous years – back in the pre-kid days when I used to see a lot more movies – I was very invested. I still have very fond memories of the year Return of the King swept the board. And, as such, there are years when I was disappointed when other, better films didn’t make the grade. Obviously things are all relative, awards shows are just beauty contests, and there’s a political edge to the whole thing regardless. But still; over time, there’s been a few films of such staggering quality that, in retrospect, it’s baffling that they didn’t sweep the board. Some of these films did win Oscars; some weren’t even nominated in the major categories. But here are my ten favourite films that should have been awards behemoths.

And, y’know, it’s all a bit of fun.

LA Confidential, 1998 Oscars: did win Adapted Screenplay, Supporting Actress; should have won Picture, Director, with nominations for Actor (both Pearce and Crowe) & Supporting Actor (Spacey – yeah, I know, but back then he was good). This film is a modern noir masterpiece, amazingly adapted and directed. Titanic reigned supreme that year, and whilst LAC is miles better, the big ship did deserve its editing and design awards.

Goodfellas, 1991 Oscars: did win Supporting Actor; should have won Picture, Director, Actor (Liotta), Adapted Screenplay, Editing, with noms for Cinematography & Art Direction. My favourite Scorsese; full of his wit and verve and violence and sadness. Dances with Wolves was the biggie, and whilst I’ve got a lot of love for that film (not seen it in years, mind), we should have been honouring Marty a long time ago.

E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, 1983 Oscars: won Score & Visual Effects; should have won Picture, Director, Screenplay, with noms for Actor (Thomas), Supporting Actress (Wallace, and maybe even Barrymore), & Art Direction. Perfectly Spielbergian, marrying his personal sentimentality with mainstream appeal, but decidedly not a blockbuster in scope or intent; a small, intimate story. Phenomenally directed, especially the kids, and Thomas gives an awards-worthy performance. Legend has it when Richard Attenborough won for Gandhi he whispered to Spielberg, “This should have been yours”. That’s probably bollocks, mind.

Fight Club, 2000 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Supporting Actress (Carter), Adapted Screenplay, Editing, Art Direction, Cinematography, with noms for Actor (both Norton and Pitt), Visual Effects. Probably way too dark and nihilistic to gain traction, but a perfect representation of its time (and, with the rise of toxic masculinity, still painfully relevant). The effort in realising it should have earned Fincher awards, and its subtle but effective effects work was quietly groundbreaking.

Pulp Fiction, 1995 Oscars: won Screenplay; should have won Picture, Director, Supporting Actor (Jackson), Supporting Actress (Thurman), with noms for Cinematography, Art Direction, Costuming. Famous in my youth for the winner that never was, trumped by Forrest Gump (which, to be fair, is pretty great). But this is Tarantino’s best movie, and should have been rewarded, and – I’m sorry – but Jackson really should have beaten Martin Landau. “Shit” indeed, Nick Fury. This actually was a harder one, because The Shawshank Redemption also came out this year; if that had beaten Pulp in the big awards, it would have been a lot more deserving, and Tim Robbins should have won Best Actor.

Singin' in the Rain, 1953 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Supporting Actor (O’Connor), Screenplay, Song, Score, Art Direction, Cinematography, Costume Design, with noms for Actor (Kelly) & Actress (Reynolds). Arguably the greatest Hollywood musical ever made. A stunning directorial achievement, a visual spectacle, and O’Connor deserved the Oscar just for the way he runs up a wall singing Make ‘Em Laugh. And it got two nominations.

Jaws, 1976 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Actor, Supporting Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Editing, Score, Cinematography. Like ET, Jaws is a Spielberg blockbuster by virtue of how much it made, not its content. It's a small, meticulously crafted character piece that, with its everyman hero and vague aura of political corruption, feels very much of its time. And it's a masterpiece.

Trainspotting, 1997 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Actor, Adapted Screenplay, Editing. It feels harder for British films to succeed at the Oscars, but this one should have cleaned up (no pun intended). It's such a brilliant adaptation, directed with such assurity and confidence, turning an unfilmable book into an essential movie, and anchored by a career-best Ewan McGregor.

Citizen Kane, 1942 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Actor, Screenplay, Editing, Cinematography, Art Direction. It's easy to mock, but this film was a revolution and a sensation, and Welles was an outstanding visionary and talent. Look at the films coming out around this time, then look at Kane. Its lack of widespread awards success is almost entirely political. But it inspired a cracking Simpson episode, so I guess it had the last laugh.

Avengers: Endgame, 2020 Oscars: should have won Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay, Visual Effects, Editing, Score, with noms for Actor (Downey Jr), Sound Effects, Sound Effects Editing, and Cinematography. Look, I know this was never gonna happen. And I'll trust the many who say Parasite is better. But the Oscars don’t - shouldn't – just reward quality. They're a cultural artefact, and as such they need to reflect where cinema is at a given moment. So I think they should have given Endgame a slew of big rewards, as if to honour the effort and achievement in bringing the MCU to the screen so successfully over the last decade. Also – and I mean this sincerely – it rocks.

#top ten #oscars #films #movies #academy

[luxvitae]

Unsteady| Angst | Taekook

Word Count: 6.5k 

Summary: What happens if someone you love doesn’t love you back?You throw up flowers. And then die. Kinda dramatic if you ask Taehyung.

I | II

Love was such a foreign concept to Kim Taehyung. It had to be, no one wanted to fall in love anymore for the dangers that it had unfolded upon poor souls who fell victim to an unrequited love. But to biology major Kim Taehyung, people were just overreacting. There was no way flowers could develop in the lungs of a human being due to unrequited love. It was unnecessary and immature, he thought, to see people actually believe that Hanahaki disease used to actually exist, but the world around him was convinced, leaving him in the dust with his opinions.

“You know it exists, why else would we have learned about it back in high school?,” Park Jimin, a human psychology major, argued one day, frustrated at his best friend for being an absolute hardass.

“Because people in the 1960’s made such a big deal about it, why else? It doesn’t make an logical sense Jimin, unless you want to explain to me how flowers, plants that depend on photosynthesis to grow, can just magically show up in your lungs one day,” Taehyung argued, rolling his eyes when his friend just decided to ignore him.

“Besides,” the younger of the two said, not even caring if Jimin wasn’t listening, “if it did exist, why don’t we heard about patients and victims of the disease now? Surely something of that caliber can’t just completely stop happening.”

“Tae,” Jimin chided, “You know why it stopped happening. I mean look around, falling in love is about as common as you being a top; it rarely ever happens-”

“Hey-”

“Either way,” the shorter said, turning around to face his friend before he headed into his classroom, “Hanahaki isn’t heard of anymore because people are a lot more careful with who they fall in love with. It’s dangerous.”

Taehyung just chuckled as his friend waved him goodbye as Jimin turned into the lecture hall next to his own.

“Then why are you dating Yoongi?,” he yelled in a playful tone at the smaller’s retreating figure.

“I got lucky”

Sitting in his biology and anatomy class, close to snoring his brains out, Taehyung forced his eyes open and his ears to listen to his professor drone on and on about body systems, but he could feel himself slipping into an unconscious state. Not getting enough sleep had become something that came with Taehyung, sort of like him and Jimin; a package deal.

There was no damage in just a little power nap and it wasn't like his professor would see him, he sat in the top corner for a reason. But Taehyung knew if he dozed off now, he'd be put behind almost weeks of information worth knowing in just five minutes, so no he really needed to keep his ass awake and attentive. But, this was Kim Taehyung we were talking about, so of course he tells himself that he's just going to close his eyes for a few minutes but he wouldn't fall asleep.

Ten minutes later, he's rudely awakened by the alarm of the person sitting next to him, and just as he's about to scold the person for having their phone on, he realizes that the lecture hall is half empty and he missed the last ten minutes which were the most crucial because their professor went so off topic that he squeezed the lesson in the few remaining minutes of the class.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly to get rid of any sleep he had left in his system; he still needed to go to lab.

Looking around his area to gather his things, he noticed a fairly large post it note stuck to the closed lid of his laptop. Picking it up to examine it further because goddamnit Kim Taehyung you forgot your glasses again.

‘Hey I saw you fell asleep and guessed you wouldn't wanna play catch up for two weeks just for dozing off for five minutes so I took some notes for you

-The guy that sits next to you’

Under the chicken scratch that was this guy’s handwriting, Taehyung found a sprawl of notes taken from whatever their professor could manage to talk about before he needed to rush off to his next class. Feeling amazed that decent people still existed in the world, the boy left the hall smiling and no longer tired as he made his way to the lab. It was rare that someone would do something inconvenient for the benefit of someone else and Taehyung was just thankful that fate had brought along a good samaritan to sit next to his sleep deprived self.

Making his way to lab, Taehyung looked over the notes and tried to make sense of his guy’s god awful handwriting. After a while, he stopped looking at the yellow piece of paper that started to give him a headache, reasoning that he could just ask when the next class came around.

As he walked through the hallways, the 21 year old passed by couples, grimacing when they reminded him of the argument he had with Jimin just a few hours ago. Taehyung couldn’t help but think to himself, why even bother?, convinced that love was just a wasted human emotion that people had yet to contain just like anger. As he thought about love, his mind drifted back to the Hanahaki disease that Jimin was so adamant about proving it exists. Not that Taehyung thought that was stupid, but it was stupid.

Knowing the human body and knowing how it works, there was no logical explanation for the disease other than Hanahaki being a type of hypochondriasis; where one worries about being sick from a certain symptom that they often perceive themselves as sick without an actual medical condition. There was no explanation to why, or how, it existed and no explanation as to why it stopped being diagnosed. If Jimin was right, then the disease stopped because people became more conscientious of who they fell in love with, but to Taehyung, that was a load of hoopla. Just because the whole world stopped smoking and got rid of carcinogens doesn’t mean that lung cancer wouldn’t exist anymore. It was the same concept, yet the biology major couldn’t help but be frustrated.

“Hey watch out!,” Taehyung heard someone yell, causing him to look up just in time to see a boy about his age on a skateboard crash into another boy whose nose was buried in a book ahead of him.

Running over to help, Taehyung helped the book worm to his feet, making sure he was okay and telling him he has to make sure he knows what’s going on around him or else he’s really gonna get hurt. Once sending the boy on his way, he turned his head to the other only to be met with one of the cutest boys he’s ever seen in his life. And that’s coming from a guy that doesn’t think that very often.   

“Are you okay?,” Taehyung asked, slowly looking over the boys body to scan for any injuries although the view was nice without him having to scan.

“I’m fine,” the boy smiled, kicking up his skateboard to carry it under his arm instead of riding it in a busy hallway full of science majors.

“Hey I know you,” the boy said thoughtfully, “You fell asleep in anatomy like an hour ago. I took notes for you, I hope you got them.”

Surprised that the boy, who looked at least a year younger than him, was in a senior class with him, Taehyung just nodded slowly.

“Yeah I got them. Can’t read it, but I got it,” the words slipping right out of his mouth, causing the older to internally die from the inside out from how ungrateful he sounded.

“Oh yeah sorry about that. My handwriting’s pretty shit,” and Taehyung had never felt so guilty in his life. Here was a kind, thoughtful, handsome boy so conveniently placed in front of him and the only thing Taehyung could think of commenting on was his lack of readable penmanship. Unbelievable.

“So I'm guessing you're on your way to lab,” the boy said, smiling when Taehyung just nodded. “Cool I'll walk with you.”

Suddenly hyper aware of how handsome this boy really was, Taehyung was flustered for the whole walk to the lab, trying to seem comfortable and indifferent, but really, he was ready to internally combust. It wasn't everyday that Biology senior Kim Taehyung caught the attention of someone that wasn't Jimin and his professor. This stra- stranger. He didn't even know the boy’s name.

“I'm Ki-”

“Kim Taehyung. I know,” the boy said cheekily, “I’ve sat next to you for the whole semester.”

Suddenly embarrassed, Taehyung felt his face heat up, turning his head so this guy wouldn’t have to see how he had transformed into a tomato. It hadn’t even occurred as a problem to him that he didn’t know anyone in any of his classes because of the sole fact that he knew he payed attention (well today was an exception). Now, this really, really good looking guy was offering an acquaintance, yet Taehyung didn’t even know his name but he knew Taehyung’s. What a wonderful start.

“I’m Jeon Jungkook. Nice to formally meet you Kim Taehyung,” Jungkook said, holding out his hand in a casual handshake which the older gratefully took.

“You too,” Taehyung said, smiling at the slightly taller boy.

“You know it's not everyday that you meet practically a genius,” Jungkook said, making the older blush from what he thought was a compliment.

“Thank you”

“Oh no I was talking about me”

Maybe it was fate or maybe it was a coincidence that although Taehyung loved to work alone, he found himself not minding the company of a certain 20 year old “genius”.

Jungkook was a lot more charming than he let on, cracking stupid biology jokes and managing to show off his intelligence through each one. Then again, to Taehyung, he was the most irritatingly charming 20 year old biology major he's ever met. Jungkook saw right through him, even seeing past the pointed glares and huffed responses that the older directed toward him. It was like in the short 2 hour span of meeting him, Jungkook had wormed his way into the ‘best friend’ category in Taehyung’s heart that the older only reserved for people who weren’t Jeon Jungkook. And that made Taehyung uncomfortable.

And irritated.

Because here was Jeon Jungkook, a very handsome specimen, with a smart mouth, fast brain, horrible jokes that he probably ripped off from online, and he was two years younger than Taehyung. Two whole years. And they ended up in the same year of college which, to the older’s demise, was absolutely unfair.

“Just let me help you!,” Jungkook whined, spinning mindlessly on the lab chairs near Taehyung’s space.

“I don’t need help,” the older said, not even bothering to look back at the younger. Even with just the two of them in the lab, it hadn’t been awkward or stale; it was almost as if the two of them had known each other for much longer than two hours.

“Come on Tae,” Jungkook groaned, hopping off his stool, “You’ve been staring at the same sample for the past seventeen minutes, erasing then rewriting the same exact things.”

Freezing where he was, Taehyung realized that 1) that asshole just gave him a nickname and 2) damn this kid is observant. Choosing to ignore the younger, Taehyung kept working on his thesis, switching the samples under the microscope out just to make it seem that he wasn’t stuck.

“You’re looking at a sample of feces from bos taurus”

Closing his eyes in pure embarrassment, Taehyung calmly took the sample of literal bullshit out from under the scope and put back the sample of organ tissue from a Hanahaki victim, a sample that no one was supposed to know he took from the research lab’s archives.

“Just let me help-”

Pushing the sample out and traveling to the other side of the lab table, Jungkook just sighed at the stubborn nature of the older. Even if Taehyung surprisingly trusted the younger, he couldn’t risk anyone else knowing he had a sample of something that was supposed to be locked up and preserved.

“Aren’t you tired of staring at a tiny hole?,” Jungkook asked, resting his head on his palm, his dark hair casting an attractive shadow over his attractive fact that made Taehyung take a little longer in processing the question that was asked, catching himself staring a little too long.

“Aren't you tired of staring at me?,” the older retorted, not realizing what he said until it slipped out of his mouth.

With his cheeks turning red from his bold statement, the younger just chuckled at him, thinking it was cute. And true. Because in all his months of sharing a class with him, Jeon Jungkook is starting to regret not getting to know Kim Taehyung earlier.

“Fine. I won’t touch any research. I’ll just, I don’t know, find grammar mistakes in your draft or something,” the younger huffed, grabbing the thick stack of papers off the lab table and sitting back down.

“You’re doing your thesis about love?”

Giving the younger a nod, Jungkook went back to the report, skimming through the pages and pages of research and analysis, impressed by the sheer effort that was shown.

“More specifically,” Taehyung said, straightening out his back, “how the human heart responds to love; emotions. Things that aren’t scientifically proven but can be logically explained.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hummed in approval, slamming down the papers after another thirty seconds, “Okay I can’t stand this anymore, let’s go.”

The older let himself get dragged out of the empty lab because 1) there was no way Taehyung could ever challenge the strength that was Jeon Jungkook and 2) there’s a slight possibility of the older having a manhandling kink and if that meant someone younger than him, albeit stronger, push him around then he is all for it.

“W-where are we-”

“Coffee shop!”

“Iced stirred caramel macchiato with soy please”

“Ugh. Soy,” Jungkook said with such distaste from behind, “Lame.”

“I’m lactose intolerant you ass,” Taehyung retorted, turning around to pay for his drink before Jungkook pushed him out of the way, and damn did he go flying.

“And I’ll get a iced black coffee,” Jungkook ordered, handing over his card before Taehyung could even think to protest.

Making a retching noise in the back of his throat, the younger plastered a fake smile on his face as the cashier finished the transaction, trying not to pay attention to the boy making a scene in the middle of a highly used Starbucks.

“What is wrong with you?,” Jungkook whispered, pulling the older to wait by the hand-off area.

“What’s wrong with me? Nothing. I don’t like drinking dirt but apparently you do,” Taehyung hummed, grabbing his drink from the barista and skipping out the door before the younger could even think of a reply.

“Black coffee isn't even that bad, it's just strong,” Jungkook defended his, what Taehyung calls, poor choice of a caffeinated beverage.

“It tastes like it was ground from cocoa beans that Satan planted,” Taehyung said in distaste, throwing glares to the cup in Jungkook’s hand.

“Well it keeps me awake and diabetes free. At least I don't drink soy,” the younger said, throwing an equal offended glare to Taehyung’s cup.

“Excuse me,” the older said causing Jungkook to laugh, knowing their banter was all in good fun, “it's not my problem that cow milk gives me diarrhea.”

Hearing his alarm go off for work, Taehyung looked down to see that he spent almost four hours talking to the younger. He was surprised that he didn't get bored like he usually does with other people. Because of that, he felt just a little sad about having to leave. Just a little.

“Oh I-”

“Gotta blast?,” Jungkook asked, glancing down at the flashing phone screen.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said apologetically, “sorry I have work.”

“It's fine I pulled you away from your lab in the first place,” Jungkook chuckled, “Where do you work?”

“I'm a teacher's aid for the first years in organic chemistry,” the older said, the other boy’s face lighting up in interest.

“Wow”, he whistled, “that's impressive.”

“Yeah”, Taehyung said sheepishly, “were going to have to continue this argument the next time we have class I guess.”

“Or”, Jungkook elongated, “you can give me your phone number and you can yell at me all you want about my ‘satanic drink.’”

Giving a face, Taehyung just started walking away before turning around a good distance from the younger.

“387-6704,” he yelled before turning back around and walking away completely, leaving Jungkook behind with a smile and a slight shake of his head.

Come get lunch w me

-JK

No

-TH

Yes

-JK

Tae?

-JK

Stopping in front of Jungkook’s 10:45 class, Taehyung waited for the session to finish. It's been about two weeks since the two have met and a steady friendship had been established. Well, more of a steady acquaintance; Taehyung didn't want to call it friendship just yet.

Jungkook was super nice, too nice, and that left something unsettled in Taehyung. Call it men intuition, but he had a feeling the younger boy was going to become someone important to him and Taehyung wasn't sure if he was ready for someone of Jungkook’s caliber to be constantly around him. Heck, he couldn't even get used to the younger calling him ‘Tae’, a nickname that only people like Jimin used. For the past two weeks, Jungkook would accompany Taehyung during his late night lab sessions and vice versa, liking the company even if they worked better when they were alone.

Taeeeeeee

-JK

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung could imagine the younger whining, an image that was extremely vivid for only seeing Jungkook a handful of times.

Deciding not to answer, Taehyung just waited outside, looking at the landscapes of the courtyard that he's never really taken the time to see. Fascinated with the flowers and the formation of the different systems, he didn't even notice Jungkook exiting the lecture rooms and sneaking up behind Taehyung.

“They're pretty right?,” his deep voice resonated, scaring the living crap out of the older.

“Damn warn a guy next time,” Taehyung whined, putting a palm over his heart to calm it down.

Ignoring the drama queen that Kim Taehyung was, the younger just continued talking, “My group and I arranged the flowers according to sunlight to water ratios for last year's final project.”

“So,” the younger said after another moment of reminiscence, “lunch?”

“Don’t you have friends?,” Taehyung asked lightly, standing up to dust himself off. Jungkook stood up along with him, a bright, childish smile on his face that made the older just wanna punch him.

“Of course I do! But they’re all too far away and I don’t like eating by myself,” he said, long legs starting to move away from the benches and toward the courtyard where food trucks had gathered during the day for students on the west wing to enjoy.

“What are you, twelve?,” the older grumbled, trailing after him only to be pulled into a friendly yet tight half embrace, the younger’s stronger arm slung casually around Taehyung’s neck.

“Oh lighten up you hardass,” Jungkook chided, “How was Environmental Sciences? Still bad?”

“The absolute worst, I cannot believe you passed that course with full marks,” Taehyung cried, “it’s been almost a semester and I still haven’t learned anything that I didn’t already learn in o-chem last semester.”

“How’s the teache-”

“Don’t even start,” Taehyung warned darkly, hating even the thought of his grumpy, defensive, discriminative professor for environmental sciences. “How’d you even get on his good side? I could just be sitting there, minding my own business and he’d tell me to shut up and suck a dick!”

Throwing his head back in laughter, Jungkook shook his head. “He’s really the worst professor in the world 11/10 would not recommend. Why didn’t you just switch out like you said you would?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Taehyung’s heart dropped a little when the younger’s arm fell from where it rested against his neck.

“Thought I could wait it out just to see how the course would develop. I'm still waiting”, Taehyung grumbled, following Jungkook to whatever truck he was getting food from.

The younger just hummed, stopping in front of a Thai food truck, scanning a menu that he's seen a hundred times. Turning to the other boy, Jungkook asked, “Is spicy food okay?”

“We don’t have to get food from the same place,” Taehyung said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders, looking around to the other groups of students that were looking at the two of them weird.

“Okay we kinda do because I’m paying and stop looking, let them stare all they want,” Jungkook said, going over to the window of the truck to order.

Feeling his face get hot, Taehyung followed after the younger, hiding behind him as he ordered for the both of them. Of course people were going to talk, why hadn't Taehyung thought of that earlier? He was the poster child for introverts, no one really knew him except for Jimin and the friends he’s made through knowing Yoongi. Jeon Jungkook, on the other hand, from what the older could gather, was the epitome of perfect. Everyone liked him, he was the smartest student in the biology department, he knew how to dance, he did sports, he was nice. People like him and people like Taehyung didn't mix and if he didn't feel it when they first met, he was definitely feeling it now from all the stares and hushed whispers behind his back.

“Kim Taehyung,” Jungkook harshly whispered, successfully pulling the older out of his thoughts, “Stop thinking so loud I can hear you from here.”

“Sorry,” he said, pushing his head down so he couldn't see the younger.

Clicking his tongue, Jungkook sent a playful glare to the older’s caved in body before poking his head upwards so he could face him. Met with cute wide eyes, the younger gave Taehyung a big smile before putting his arm back around the older’s shoulders. With the familiar, comforting weight back around his neck, Taehyung felt himself loosen up a little, feeling a little safer from the judgemental looks of the other students surrounding them.

“Why don’t you go pick a seat while I wait for the food,” Jungkook suggested and Taehyung nodded, pulling away from the younger to sit down on a table in the far corner where the two of them could eat in peace and in shade because if Jungkook was going to keep doing that arm thing, it’s going to get extremely hot.

Once the younger came over carrying a tray of various take-out boxes, the two of them started eating. It was nice; just eating lunch together and shit talking their professors because none of them knew how to properly teach. And it was going great. Until the spiciness of the food had settled in Taehyung’s mouth.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groaned, throwing his head back to gulp down as much water as he could.

“What?,” Jungkook asked concerned, looking over the older worriedly.

“First you drink dirt then you eat hell’s food?,” Taehyung complained, shoveling spoonfuls of rice in his mouth to try and stop the internal heat from spreading.

“Oh so you can’t handle spicy food,” Jungkook said, clearly amused by the older having a mental breakdown over some spicy curry.

“Do you want me to go get something else for you?,” the younger said after realizing that Taehyung wasn’t joking and he really couldn’t handle spicy foods like he could.

Shaking his head, Taehyung just put on a brave face. Jungkook asked him to lunch and paid for the food, it was only polite for Taehyung not to complain and just eat up. Plus, the pain was temporary. Sure, maybe his bladder and asshole would never forgive him after this meal, but that was less important compared to not seeming like a weakling in Jungkook’s eyes.

“Seriously,” Jungkook tsked, grabbing the older’s hand that was holding his spoon and guiding it toward his own mouth, “don't eat it if you can't enjoy it. I'll get you something else.”

Getting up, Taehyung kicked the younger’s shin to get him to sit back down.

“Ow! What?!”

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?!”

“Being nice to me!”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook just got back up, dodging the older’s powerful kick, and ran to the Italian food truck. Watching the younger stand in line, Taehyung had half a mind to drag him back to their table so he wouldn't feel like a burden, but while he was deciding how to potentially muster enough strength to actually pull the younger back to the table, Jungkook appeared before him again with another take out box.

“Don't open it yet,” he said, tying up the package and pushing it toward Taehyung who was shooting him confused looks.

“Your alarm for work is gonna ring in about three minutes, then you're gonna freak out that you forgot again. Eat when you get to the class,” Jungkook said thoughtfully making Taehyung’s face heat up.

“You're too good to me Jeon Jungkook,” the older said.

“I have to be. You're my friend aren't you?”

Get your lazy ass up Kim Taehyung we’re gonna be late

-JK

Springing up in his bed from the text that was sent almost half an hour ago, Taehyung rushed to the bathroom to finally start getting ready for the presentation that he was definitely going to be late for at this point.

“Jimin! Why didn’t you wake me up?!,” he yelled through the foam of his toothpaste at his roommate was just casually lounging in front of the TV.

“I thought you were up!,” Jimin said defensively, “Your alarm was going off for a while so I just assumed that you were letting it wake you up.”

“I didn’t set an alarm!”

“Well someone’s been calling you for the past 30 minutes!”

Dashing toward his phone that was still on the bed with half of his face caked in facewash, Taehyung opened his call log to find over 20 missed calls from none other than Jeon Jungkook himself. With another ding, his phone lit up to notify him of another text.

Srsly KTH ur gonna be the death of me

-JK

I stalled for a couple minutes so you have time to get here

-JK

So get here

-JK

Thanking whoever decided befriending Jungkook was a good idea for Taehyung, the older ran back into the bathroom to wash off whatever residue was left and threw open his dresser. Knowing that he was going to be running late even if he woke up on time, a much more responsible Kim Taehyung planned what he was going to wear for presentation in advance. The only thing he needed to do now was to actually get himself into the clothes.

This is all ur fault

-TH

How is this my fault?! U slept thru all my calls!!!!

-JK

If u didnt keep me up all night while you rambled about ur stupid pet hamster then maybe i woulve went to sleep earlier

-TH

Max doesn’t appreciate u calling him stupid nor the fact that u completely stopped using apostrophes

-JK

Max can suck my ass

-TH

He doesn't appreciate you assuming his sexuality either

-JK

BIIIIIIIIIII

-TH

Two minutes!1!!1!!!1!!

-JK

Buttoning the final button on his shirt, Taehyung quickly took a glance in the mirror, deemed himself presentable, and ran out the door, telling a goodbye to Jimin.

In all his years of being at the university, Taehyung has never done more than walk to a class much less run. Breaking a sweat as he weaved his way through the morning students, he realized two things. He's completely out of shape and he's running to a class that he doesn't particularly care about but Jungkook does so he does too.

And although that's unsettling seeing how almost every night since the day they've met he's been getting less and less sleep than he was already being deprived from, Taehyung had thrown all his thoughts to the wind. Jeon Jungkook had proven himself to be a useful friend, in certain situations, and the older was happy to keep him around. Maybe it was because of the dark eyes, or the tight pants that hugged his waist so well, or the fact that Jungkook has the sexiest fingers- no. It was because he was a person that Taehyung could see himself hanging out with, probably yelling at, ten, fifteen years in the future.

And in the future, when Jungkook is a doctor and the older is a professor himself, Taehyung could see the scene where he comes home from a long day at the school, with tons and tons of papers to grade while Jungkook peeks out from the kitchen and gives him the warmest, loving smile and-

What the shit, Kim Taehyung?

Spending the last thirty seconds of running through the corridor to reason with himself that his subconscious did not just dream up a domestic future between him and his newfound friend, Taehyung entered the lecture hall and tiptoed through the seats before finding Jungkook and sliding into the chair the younger saved just for him.

“You’re late asshole,” the younger said through gritted teeth, “We’re next.”

More concerned about the raging dilemma going on in his head, Taehyung just nodded and stared ahead, trying to practice his part of the presentation in his head but failing miserably.

Noticing the older’s frown and grunts of frustration, Jungkook just lightly smiled and reached into his bag under his chair, pulling out a small stack of index cards and grabbing the boy’s hand next to him only to drop the index cards into his grasp.

“Prepared them just in case,” the younger smiled, making Taehyung’s heart do mysterious things in his chest.

“So….lab?,” the younger asked, falling into step with the other boy who pretty much bolted out of class as soon as they were dismissed.

“I- I might skip today. I’m feeling a little lightheaded,” Taehyung said, already feeling bad for lying to the other to blatantly, but it wasn’t like he could tell him the truth.

Jungkook’s lips turned into a frown; a small pout that made the older just want to kiss him. Bringing his hand rest on Taehyung’s forehead, the other boy just watched in amazement as Jungkook focused on feeling the older’s temperature.

“Hmm. You do feel a little warm,” the younger said thoughtfully, moving his rest on Taehyung’s neck, causing the older’s breath to catch in his throat.

Staring at Jungkook, Taehyung noticed the little things that he never really saw before. Like the mole right under his lips or how the big the scar on his cheek really was. He saw the concern written all over his face and his pout get deeper when he put his other hand to his own neck for comparison.

“Well, you don’t have a fever,” Jungkook said, removing his hands from the older.

Breaking out of his trace, Taehyung stepped away from the younger and cast his eyes down, too confused and uncertain to really face him.

“But if you’re feeling lightheaded then you should drink a shitton of water and get some rest. I’ll cover you for lab today,” Jungkook said, giving the older a small but breathtaking smile.

“You got it Doctor Jeon”

Taehyung wasn’t lightheaded, a kindergartener could tell that much. Jungkook, being the good friend that he was, decided not to pry, but when the older wouldn't answer any of his text messages, he knew exactly where he was. And it wasn't in his dorm sleeping.

“You know, you should really follow doctor’s orders Professor Kim,” he said, startling the older whose back was to him, crouched over a beaker in the lab.

“H-how did you-”

“I know you Taehyung. You weren't lightheaded today after class and if it was something I did then I'm sorry-”

Taehyung’s face contorted in horror when he heard the younger blaming himself. It was his own fault, not Jungkook’s. Never in a million years.

“It's not your fault-”

“Then why'd you lie to me?”

The silence between the two boys grew louder and louder as Taehyung asked himself the same question. Why did he lie to Jungkook? Was it because his feelings? Was it because he suddenly became very much aware of how close he was getting to this kid that he's known for about four months? Why’d he lie?

“I don’t- I don't know,” the older said truthfully, looking down to avoid eye contact.

Taehyung didn't know what to expect. Maybe a ‘tell me next time’ or a shrug of the shoulders because that was Jungkook. He was calm and collective and nonchalant and understanding. Because he was Jungkook. What Taehyung wasn't expecting was to be enveloped in a warm embrace, squished between the lab table and the younger's solid chest.

“J-Jung-”

“Just tell me if something is going on don't lie to me about it,” he said softly, making Taehyung want to melt from how good the vibrations of his voice in his chest felt.

Knowing he shouldn't have, Taehyung just buried himself further into the younger’s embrace, wanting to hold on just a little more. And maybe that's when he felt it. His change in heart and attitude. He no longer wanted to lurk in the shadows of the friend zone, too scared to cross the line in fear of rejection.

And Taehyung was confident Jungkook felt the same.

There was no way the younger would constantly text him, keeping the both of them up until the ass crack of dawn just because he had made a new friend. It didn't make sense that even if the older never mentioned it, Jungkook had remembered that Taehyung was lactose intolerant from the first time they stepped into that coffee shop. Or the fact that even when he knew he worked better alone, he would always call Taehyung over to the lab where they would spend hours on end just in each other’s company. Or even the fact that every night and every morning, without fail, he would send a ‘goodnight’ and ‘good morning’ text just to make sure that Taehyung was sleeping and waking up on time.

And even if the younger couldn't reciprocate his feelings, Taehyung wouldn't stop. Because to him, Jungkook was worth it.

“Well I haven't seen your crazy ass all week. You're still alive I see,” Jimin said grumpily, sliding into the bar seat next to his best friend, his steaming white mocha on the counter waiting for him.

Taehyung just smiled, reading through some old text messages between him and Jungkook that morning. After this small coffee date with Jimin, he was meeting the younger for lunch, a ritual that they kept along with meeting in the lab every night.

Noticing his best friend’s giggly state, Jimin just rolled his eyes before realizing that holy shit Kim Taehyung actually has a giggly state.

“Who is it?!,” Jimin all but yells, smacking his best friend on the arm multiple times to get his attention.

To Taehyung it didn't hurt, it just added to his excitement of finally telling someone that he did it. After twenty two years of being cold and unresponsive, Kim Taehyung had finally found someone that he could wholeheartedly say he genuinely liked. And to him, this was groundbreaking. Because after all those years of thinking that love was dead and that science was all he needed, he was finally proven wrong. That science wasn't what he needed, it was the smart mouthed, sweet, irritatingly charming Jeon Jungkook.

“I swear to god Kim Taehyung-”

“It's Jeon Jungkook, a pre-med major in my bio class and lab,” Taehyung said all giddy, missing the look of horror on Jimin’s face.

“No. Taehyung you can't like him,” Jimin said, panic written all over his face, but head-over-heels Kim Taehyung doesn't notice.

“You're right,” he said, looking down with a shy smile on his face, “I think I love him.”

Jimin was absolutely done. There was no saying as to what would happen now, but one thing’s for certain. Between Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung, there would be a broken heart and Park Jimin knew exactly whose heart it would be.

“No Tae, listen to me. You can't like, let alone love, Jeon Jungkook. You can't. I won't allow you to,” the shorter said, freaking out in the middle of the cafe.

With a confused face, Taehyung was about to ask his best friend why he was so against the idea until he felt a cough rising up. But it wasn't like any other dry cough that he's felt before. The coughs just kept coming, becoming more and more painful; more and more unbearable. To Taehyung is was nothing more than a dry cough that wouldn't go away, but Jimin knew better. With the coughs violently ripping through his lungs, Taehyung started to tear up around the edges of his eyes, trying to drink something but only making it worse. It felt like hell; like someone was twisting his lungs into uncomfortable positions then tearing it from the inside out. When it didn't calm down, Taehyung was pretty sure he was going to die coughing, and he wasn't wrong, but just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. His gag reflex had initiated, causing his hands to go flying to his mouth just in case he couldn't make it to a bathroom in time.

“Tae-” Jimin started, hand coming up to pat the other’s back.

But just when he thought he had finally vomited and the feeling passed, dread filled the younger’s body as he didn’t feel the disgusting, sticky liquid that would usually come out. With an unstable breath and wide eyes, Taehyung unclenched his shaky hands with fear, because really this cannot be happening, to reveal the four baby pink petals in his hand. Dropping them on the table, he ignored the pointed looks and the sympathetic whispers around him, the only thing he was focusing on was getting out of there.

“No- Taehyung!,” Jimin called, running after his best friend, knowing he wasn’t in any condition to be moving much less running.

Just as he reached the hallway leading back to the university, Taehyung dropped to his knees, another gut wrenching cough making its way up his throat. The same feeling of pain and hysteria clouded his mind as he faintly heard Jimin called for him in the distance, coughing up more pink petals and spitting them on the ground before passing out on the stone cold cement.

a/n: Sooooo i was supposed to publish this like a month ago?? 

-M♡♡

#taekook scenario #taekook imagine #taekook #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook #jeongguk scenarios #jeongguk imagine #jeongguk #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts #pjay writing

[swanirbhar]

After Weeks Of Online Classes At IIT, Here's The Truth

It is very likely that the next full semester (likely to start around mid-August for IIT-Bombay) will be "virtual" as campuses will continue to be locked down, and we will have to resort to online teaching. Due to this sudden fallback on the online mode, e-learning evangelists have found a new lease of life - they seek to build the credibility of the all-digital classroom by suggesting that it will quickly bring us "back to normal". In this article, I focus only on online remote teaching to students at home, not on the broader canvas of online education covering MOOCS, blended learning etc which may be effective and beneficial in their own context. 

Doing some form of academic activity online has been a learning experience for many of us on the IIT-Bombay faculty. We have familiarized ourselves with, and used, various video conferencing tools to conduct live (synchronous) lectures. We have also thought of new ways of collating course material, preparing digital-friendly notes and presentations, and experimenting with video recordings. But after the initial excitement wears off, it becomes monotonous and exhausting to talk to a computer screen with occasional interruptions by disembodied voices.

Most IITs are blessed with high-quality internet connectivity and uninterrupted power supply. But this is not true for students at home. Many students cannot afford high-speed internet access, a very significant section have homes in cities and towns that have electricity outages for many hours and where only mediocre-quality internet connectivity is available. Those from rural hinterlands are constrained by facilities worse than this. Further, while some students own laptops or even expensive tablets, there are many who do not. They depend upon desktop computers available on campus; at home, they have only only smartphones to connect to the internet.

Therefore, some students cannot attend live classes because their internet connection is poor or their devices do not have enough charge. For some, it is feasible only to download low-resolution video recordings or even just text notes. This is a big issue - of unequal access - and there is little that the institute can do to rectify it. Apparently, surveys are being conducted to find out what is the exact nature and extent of this problem for IIT students but the fact remains that there will be a significant difference in the quality of access - and, therefore, learning - that different groups of students will experience. A somewhat representative estimate of this digital divide can be obtained from this recent survey conducted by the University of Hyderabad. Of the 2,500 respondents, only 37% students said they could attend online classes; 18% said they could not. Over 90% said they would prefer to watch lecture recordings rather than attend live classes. The digital classroom is indeed far more unequal than the physical classroom.

The "classroom", in an online class, is far more impersonal than the physical one. It is not possible to "scan" all the students, peering out of their boxed windows on the screen, in one sweep; the larger the class size, the bigger this problem. Mostly, I could not see anyone's face in the windows because the video had been switched off. This "facelessness" accentuates the already impersonal ethos. In a physical classroom, there is eye contact with students. I see their facial expressions and body language, and use these visual cues to emphasize, repeat, reorient material in the middle of the lecture. In the online class, I could not figure out when to ask a question, and to whom, to check or provoke. I missed cues like the collective buzz of the students on some topic, the curious murmurs in one corner or too many students suddenly looking at each other with puzzlement! Discussions were much harder to sustain despite all sorts of provocations and multi-people interactions barely nucleated. At the end, one does not even know whether the lecture "went well" or it "was a disaster"!

One of the biggest advantages of the evergreen chalk-and-talk lectures is that usually the students are in sync with the instructor. The teacher writes and explains while the students make notes. The use of slides and presentations, or even graphics and videos, tends to be much more in online classes simply because sharing these audio-visual items is easier than having a proper "whiteboard" (needs a computer with a writing stylus, unless the teacher is in an e-classroom equipped with cameras and a real black/white board). Often, sharing material (screen-sharing) will "disembody" the teacher so that students are just staring at the presentation accompanied by a voiceover. The pace of teaching speeds up quite a bit "naturally" because of the already-written material on the presentations, the students "unsync" and are "lost". Perhaps a saving grace is that students can revisit recorded lectures again and again, whereas chalk-and-talk sessions are usually just a one-time presentation.

Of course, some of these defects can be controlled if the teacher consciously avoids these pitfalls but that is an extra burden on the teacher to be aware of with content delivery. Tips like breaking the lecture into chunks separated by some interactive activity are easier said than done. Imagine asking random students in (often faceless) boxes to answer a question or comment on something, and then asking some other random student to continue the discussion. In the physical classroom, I do this easily by looking at students to decide who should speak. Another suggestion often made in the context of online teaching is that teachers should curate existing "suitable" material rather than prepare their own. I think this is an inappropriate suggestion in that it ignores that teaching is an intensely personal "art", and preparing original content (other than the flair for delivery) is at the heart of the experience.

It is an irony worthy of rumination that even within the IITs, many times we have to "force" students to "participate" in a course. This is done either by making attendance compulsory or by scheduling regular tests, in a bid to ensure that students keep in touch with the course material. Some students say that these measures are to coerce them to participate in "boring" courses, and while this may be partially true, the deeper reasons for student disinterest has more to do with other factors. As I have argued in these columns, the effects of JEE coaching pedagogy - an obsession with "cracking" exams - and the disjunction between engineering domain knowledge and the kind of non-engineering jobs that students end up opting for, are the primary culprits. In the context of online teaching, student disinterest is exacerbated. Many of my colleagues and I have found that the attendance was lower, often much lower, than in a physical class. Of course, behind the student window on the computer screen, with video and audio switched off, one does not know what the students are actually doing. Are they even in their seats, listening? We often have a hard time getting students to stay away from their laptops and mobiles while in a regular lecture, and now in this scenario, it is impossible.

The problems in holding remote problem-solving sessions and group discussions are equally amplified because there is, in essence, a very poor learning environment. Chat boards and discussion fora simply cannot replace physical tutorials, recitations and even banter.

We also anticipate a severe problem with laboratory courses. It looks like we will be reduced to making videos of experiments and perhaps getting students to analyse dummy data. But there will be no hands-on work. For engineering education, where there is great justification for getting "hands dirty", this will be a great loss in learning.

Some instructors seem to think that the flipped classroom technique may be very useful in the current situation because it can avoid most of the lectures. Students can just read assigned material or watch pre-recorded videos and "attend class" only to clear doubts and indulge in "learned" discussion. It sounds cute on paper but works poorly in the ground. Ponder for a moment how many students, more so disinterested ones, will actually read or watch anything? Even at the best of times, getting students to actually learn by self-study (and even home assignments) so that they are in a state to indulge in meaningful discussion is hard. In the current situation, it becomes even more opportune for students to simply skip all study and prepare "at the last moment" for an exam.

The greatest bugbear of online teaching is assessment of students via exams or home assignments. The problem is one of integrity - how does one conduct assessment tests online that are devoid of copying and plagiarism? In the physical classroom, exams are proctored by teaching assistants and teachers; in the online system, this is very difficult to do. The tendency to use unfair means and in general indulge in unethical behavior "when no one is watching" ensures that unmonitored exams are quite useless for any kind of assessment. There are suggestions that students should take the exams in nearby schools or institutions where someone can be deployed to invigilate physically.

For the same reasons, take-home exams or home assignments will also not work as a means for assessment. Even as a regular practice, homework is given out mostly for students to practice; their weight towards the final grade is usually low because it is recognized that many submissions will contain plagiarized "cut and paste" passages or paraphrased material from someone else.

There is currently a lot of hype and hoopla in the market about software-enabled proctored online exams. Companies offer camera-based face and body tracking, device screen monitoring (what other apps are running on your machine), and frequent camera scans of surroundings. Some even tout the use of artificial intelligence to detect if you are doing "anything wrong" (monitoring facial expressions, lip twitches). Much of this is unproven and impractical, good only for sales pitches and science fiction. There are easy and sophisticated ways (remember how good we are at "jugaad"!) to beat all this highly invasive "surveillance".

In any case, the possibility of online exams stands defeated by the vagaries of electricity supply, the quality of the internet connection and the lack of suitable devices. A simple and viable option may be to hold exams only after the students return to campus.

It is good that we have online options but let us not kid ourselves into the illusion of normalcy. It is worrisome that despite ground realities of this sort, a sense of digital triumphalism seems to hang in the air. Tech-obsessed policy-makers, driven by arguments of "efficiency", low costs and scalability, are beginning to fantasize that in the post-Covid world, there may be no urgent need to build new schools and institutions; all that is needed are video recordings, artificially intelligent teaching bots - hosted on the internet - and a device to connect. 

(Anurag Mehra is a Professor of Chemical Engineering and Associate Faculty at the Center for Policy Studies, at IIT Bombay.)

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed within this article are the personal opinions of the author. The facts and opinions appearing in the article do not reflect the views of NDTV and NDTV does not assume any responsibility or liability for the same.

[fiveminutemum]

Some new quick ideas and games on here and a little bit about our new routine now Ewan’s at school, and I only have Flo (currently two and a half) at home with me during the day.

So every weekday we drop the wee man at school and off he trots to be taught lots of wonderful new things by other people (don’t weep Mumma…) and I either walk with/push/or battle with the wee lassie to get us home again (school run fun).

When we get home I obviously have 150 jobs to get done. Clean up the breakfast bomb explosion, put on wash 1 of 3, dig the toothbrush out of the toilet U-bend – you know, usual parenting stuff. HOWEVER, the first thing I do is set up a five minute game.

Now the reason I do this is two-fold:

1) To ease the guilt. If I play with Flo first before I do anything else, when I do actually do crack on with jobs I can say to her “go and play” or “Mummy’s busy” with complete freedom. We’ve had some fun, I’ve attempted to teach her something useful and have had some quality one-on-one time with just her. Now she can play independently while I crack on for a bit. My conscience is free.

2) If I play with her first, she is much more likely to play independently. She has a game already set out that’s been modelled. She will often continue the game or extend it herself naturally. Not always, but the chances of this happening increase significantly if she’s had that input from me first.

So what do we play you ask?

Recent five minute activities include:

Colour matching. I got out five coloured plates and a pair of binoculars. We searched the house for things the same colours as the plates. You don’t need binoculars. You can use loo rolls or paper cups fashioned into them. You can use a magnifying glass like detectives. It’s just a prop to get them engaged.

Guess that sound. I got five musical instruments out and she had to close her eyes while I played one, then open her eyes and guess which one it was. The start of phonics is being able to listen for sounds accurately. You don’t need instruments. Just anything that makes a noise.

Birthday candles. I had a big blob of leftover pastry (but you can use playdoh of course) and I got out a muffin tin and come real candles from birthday cakes (which reside in the kitchen drawer of crap) and we did some counting out of candles while we made birthday cakes for everyone we know.

Postie. I set up five soft toys in locations around the house. Cut a letter box hole in a box, and got out a load of birthday or in our case, wedding cards and we posted them into the letter box then put them all in a bag to deliver them to the soft toys around the house.

Wash the dolls. Sometimes I need to do jobs upstairs so I put a washing up bowl of water in the bottom of the shower or the bath. I strip Flo naked and she washes a few of her dolls and bears.  I give her a flannel, a bar of soap and some hand towels for them all. I do a few of them first and then leave her to carry on. They all just go in the airing cupboard after.

Cutlery sort out. Get a blanket. Tip your cutlery onto it. Sit and sort it back into the correct sections in the tray. Show them how to do it. Get it wrong so they correct you. Model the language. Then leave them to play while you potter around the kitchen doing other stuff.

Bring a book to life. Get a few little characters or items that match up to a story book you have. Put them together and then play out the book as you read it together.

Rugby tackling. (I’ve nicked this idea from our weekly Superstars class!) Grab a large sofa cushion, sit at one end of a room, shout “ready, steady, GO!” and encourage your child to run at you and try to “tackle” you e.g. knock you over. Make sure you get knocked over!

Nursery rhymes. As silly as it sounds, we often stick some nursery rhymes on You Tube and sit and sing them. We play some instruments to them. I let Flo choose the next song. We sometimes dance or use pretend microphones. It’s simple but she loves it, and this is brilliant for speech and language. Yep, even singing about dishes running away with spoons (WTAF is that about?) is perfect for speech development. 

Tie a bit of string between two chairs. Give them some tea towels and socks and a bundle of pegs – let’s hang out the washing!

Hoopla. If you have some old glow stick hoops knocking around from Halloween save them and make a game of hoopla. Put 5 numbers or letters out and take it in turns to ‘hoop’ them all.

Toddler beer* pong. Make a ball out of foil, get some coloured cups and see which colours you can throw the ball in to. Each time the ball goes in you take the cup away until they are all gone. 

After I’ve done this, we crack on with our day. I tidy up a bit, she plays and then we often go out to a class or to see a friend or to playgroup or the park or the supermarket.

Nothing hugely revolutionary, but I thought I might share in case it’s helpful. Five minutes play early doors can help kick that guilt into touch, and starts off our day with some fun! Don’t forget to play by The Golden Rule! 😉

And if you’re wondering about Ewan, I still spend five minute in the morning with him either playing one of the old games or trying out new ones. Or reading his school book. We do a ‘challenge’ every day after school with a hot chocolate. We chat, do the challenge  for 5-10 minutes (either his homework, a five minute game, or just a fun activity together) and then he is free to have the iPad or watch TV while I make dinner.

Our routine is all about them getting time with me, but me getting time with me too. Five minutes is all it takes…!

*no actual beer involved. Well, maybe for Mum and Dad later 😉

Games for Flo Some new quick ideas and games on here and a little bit about our new routine now Ewan's at school, and I only have Flo (currently two and a half) at home with me during the day.

[humanoid-lovers]

Worth the purchase Al Franken cracks me up. He is intelligent, witty, and provides a cohesive narrative. Go to Amazon

Worth Reading Good, preachy in places and takes the lies back to those who spouted them. Go to Amazon

Five Stars Very funny and well researched Go to Amazon

Intelligent &Hysterically Funny -GO TEAM FRANKEN! Ever have that nightmare where you are scared, try to scream but can't make a sound? everyone around you seems oblivious? You wake with a start feeling panicked and agitated... Go to Amazon

Treason, this ain't Mr. Franken relates his PERSONAL interactions with the likes of Ann pimping-for-the-right Coulter, Sean I-can-talk-louder-than-you Hannity and of course everyone's favorite blowhard Bill splotchy-face O'Really?. Go to Amazon

Five Stars Must read for everyone! I highly recommend. A lot of research is evident to any reader. Go to Amazon

Who'd Have Known ??? I didn't even know Franken had a new book out till I read all the hoopla in the papers about the Fox network suing to prevent him from using,(of all things!),the words "fair and balanced".(Not to overuse these parentheses,but),(the suit had the effect of shooting the book from number 489 to number one on the amazon site.) Yikes !!! Go to Amazon

Five Stars Would like to see another book written about lies told by Donald Trump, Jeff Sessions, Jared Kushner Five Stars Five Stars Buy This Book Sen. Al Franken tears apart the Washington Beltway. Five Stars Four Stars Well researched information Buy it if You Have a Sense of Humor and Are at All Interested in Our Government

[thiswillbereportedtomanagement]

Every month, Maxwell Barna rounds up the best new drops and innovations in the tech world. Check out last month’s installment here. With CES just a couple weeks out at this point, I was pretty worried about how this column was going to shape up for December. You’d think all the tech giants were saving their big announcements for the main event, but lo and behold, December was a pretty killer month for the tech scene. I found a lot of good stuff this month, ranging from the curiously quiet release of the long-awaited Apple Airpods, all the way through to a team of Harvard researchers creating what may very well be the smallest radio of human kind—the mere size of two atoms. It was a hell of a month, to say the least: CRTC This month, the Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission ruled that internet access is a basic telecommunications service. Up until this point in Canada, local landline telephone service was the only communications service deemed essential. The new ruling will require internet service providers to begin developing plans that’ll connect all Canadians with basic internet service—even in rural and isolated areas. It’s a massive step forward, and some of the first legislation of its kind to pop up in North America. Find Out More Dell By now, you know that a lot of tech leaks aren’t accidental. Nevertheless, it’s worth reporting that Dell is one of the top tech giants rumored to be releasing a GeForce GTX 1050-powered laptop, and it appears as though the rumors were at least partly confirmed last week when Dell “accidentally” listed an XPS 9650 laptop, which allegedly listed the GTX 1050 chip in its spec list. Before the product was pulled, its listing stated that the laptop includes the “latest 7th Gen Intel Quad Core processors and optional 5GB GeForce GTX 1050 graphics card with the latest and greatest Pascal architecture, so you can blaze through your most intensive tasks.” If the rumors are true, this may very well be one of the fastest out-the-box laptops in the entire world. Find Out More Gatebox As if the thought of talking to a massive box that spits information back at you in a weird human voice wasn’t creepy enough, a group of tech product developers in Japan just made things a hell of a lot creepier. Gatebox is a personal holographic assistant that basically lives in a tiny little machine that honestly looks like a futuristic Keurig machine. It’ll do all the regular stuff like controlling your lights and playing music, but also goes about 50 steps further—in the product video, the robot send text messages to its owner throughout the day, wishing him a good day at work and asking him if he could come home early. Basically, it’s one Scarlett Johansson away from trying to have digital sex with you (and it probably does that, too). Find Out More Harvard School of Engineering and Applied Sciences A team of researchers from Harvard created a radio receiver with building blocks that are only the size of two atoms, virtually invisible to the human eye. The receiver is a monumental breakthrough because it can withstand immensely harsh environmental conditions that’d make it fit for things like intense space travel, but also in things like pacemakers in the human heart, thanks to biocompatibility with diamonds. Find Out More Tech Crunch One of the big things holding VR back from making a real impact on the tech scene this year was its inability to go wireless. Being bound by a cord in a now-cordless world gave many of the most popular VR headsets an undercooked appearance that turned off consumers. Rivvr , a tech startup, announced a prototype that allows VR headsets (particularly the Oculus Rift and HTC Vive) to become completely wireless. Rivvr uses proprietary technology to compress the video feed and send it wirelessly from a source to the headset. Which is great, because VR porn with a cord is actually kind of lame. Find Out More adidas At this point in the game, we’ve seen everything from 3D-printed heart valves to 3D-printed houses, so I guess it kind of makes sense that someone finally put out a 3D-printed shoe. Adidas first gifted their Futurecraft 3D Runner to a few select adidas athletes at the Rio Summer Olympics back in August, but announced a limited release in mid-December—just in time for Christmas! Good luck copping a pair, though. The shoes came with a retail price tag of $333, and feature beautiful PRIMEKNIT uppers and a 3D-printed web heal that’s (apparently) so advanced, they feature denser printing in high-impact areas to help prevent injuries. Find Out More Apple After pushing back the original October release date for their long-awaited AirPods from October to… well, indefinitely, they finally hit the shelves last month, and no one seemed to notice. No big hoopla, no Reddit threads, no trending Facebook stories… nothing. Ordinarily that isn’t worth commentary, but Apple put so much hype into the AirPods that for the release to be completely under the radar was strange, to say the least. Find Out More X-ray tech is nothing new, but a research team at University College London achieved a breakthrough this month that could completely change the way we use it—from implementing security measures in airports (or other places) to detecting cancerous tumors in human bodies. The technique is called phase-contrast X-ray imagine, and essentially it uses X-rays to measure the physical effects different tissues or materials have on the speed of the X-ray itself (as opposed to measuring the extent to which certain tissues absorb X-rays). It’s a lot of complicated science-talk, but basically the new technique will allow tumors to be spotted sooner, and cracks, imperfections or explosive materials to be checked in greater detail. Find Out More Bose When people think about purchasing new headphones, they usually want to hear about how a headset will keep outside noise away from their ears. Well, Bose said, “To hell with that!” and actually made a pair of ear buds that essentially act like hearing aids—and the result is pretty cool. The ear buds, cleverly named Hearphones, look suspiciously similar to Bose’s QC 30s, but allow people to turn ambient noise up or down, change the direction you’re hearing sounds from and even isolate other noise to let voices and other specific noises in. Find Out More Opus One The world is literally melting, Princess Leia is dead and Donald Trump is still going to be the President, but at least we finally have an umbrella that can tell us when it’s about to rain by vibrating—and no, it’s not an inconspicuous dildo. The Opus One umbrella uses Bluetooth technology to tell you what the forecast is for any given moment of the day, based on a proprietary app that gets periodic weather updates. If rain appears in the forecast, the umbrella vibrates. The Opus One umbrella will also notify its owner of texts and emails they’re receiving, and will also let owners know if the device it’s attached to goes too far out of range from the umbrella. Find Out More For more in the way of tech, check out our round up of the biggest tech stories of the year.

http://www.highsnobiety.com/2016/12/30/new-tech-gadgets-december/

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