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cxmetery-gates · 3 years

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OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER THREE: A GOOD SCARY STORY

SUMMARY: With teases and friendly banter, Lynn can’t help but fall under Mr. Hiddleston’s charming spell. WORD COUNT: 2.1k NOTES: Thank you to everyone reading! Dark!fics get a lot of criticism and though the story has not turned into one ((yet)), I’m very humbled by all the likes and reblogs :) WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

"I'M NOT ONE FOR COMPLAINING," I pant– while simultaneously lying with a straight face– dragging my feet up another flight. "But can I ask which floor your room is on?"

Only a step ahead of my slow pace, the male teacher smirks. "Not fond of stairs?"

I shrug. "Not really fond of anything involving exercise."

"I would agree," he glances back, a grin marking his face. He makes a huff, more than likely on my same page, but perhaps better off. He appears to be fit so I'm doubting three flights of stairs is killing him like it's slaughtering me. "But, a morning run isn't the worst way to start the day."

My nose wrinkles. "So you're one of those guys? Gotta make those gains, hm?" I'm not sure where my overly confident attitude is coming from. It's not like me to make comments like these to my teachers, Mrs. Gibbons being the exception but even then I am reserved. Something about being close to Mr. Hiddleston has completely altered my professionalism around people of a higher authority. Hopefully it doesn't last long and I don't run into the principle any time soon.

Finally, after what seemed like climbing Mount Doom, we reach the last step. Pausing, Mr. Hiddleston looks down to me. "You've got quite the nerve talking to your superior like a classmate."

It's obvious he's teasing, so I go along. "My superior? What, because you're a hundred thousand dollars in debt thanks to a fancy piece of paper and you've got a couple more decades on your shoulders?"

"'A couple decades?'" He repeats, quite amused.

I shrug with sass coating my entire being. "Give or take. What are you, forty? Nearing fifty?"

His gives a chuckle. "Try thirty-three."

"Really?" I ask doing a small run down while he looks away. I don't find myself in the company of thirty-somethings all that often but I can't lie; he's looking really good, especially from the backside. Mr. Hiddleston hums, and I'm not sure if that was a positive or negative sound. "You sure? Because I could have sworn I saw some grays up there."

"Oh, ha ha, you're so clever," he mocks, voice suddenly raising just a couple octaves. It causes me to jump but I giggle, feeling a strange girly feeling arise from my stomach. All I can do is tell myself not to throw up from nerves, over and over in my head.

Feeling just as confident, I reply with a whisper. "Shh! There are classes in session! You're going to get detention!"

He shakes his head. Mr. Hiddleston attempts to be serious but there's humor and teases filled between each word. "Funny you mention that: I happen to be the teacher in change of detention this week. And don't think I won't put you there because you're helping me: any other teacher would have landed you a weeks worth just from your comment on my age."

My eyes roll. "As if. You're too nice."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," I reply, a smirk hanging on my lips.

He looks down, given my lack of height, and I move my face towards him comically. There's a smirk playing on his thin lips, the corners desperately trying to form a smile. Eye contact remains steady, but I see it more as a funny, friendly game of domination. A moment passes before he looks away, a small sigh parting his lips. "We'll see about that," Mr. Hiddleston retorts, causing me to chuckle.

From his belt, he wears one of those mini extendable cables that can hold all sorts of keys and chains. I'm honestly not quite sure what they're called. Fumbling with the keys, Mr. Hiddleston flips through several before find the the right one and pulling it towards the door, a thin wire keeping a hold on the instrument. When I was much younger, my mother would wear one clipped to the pocket of her scrubs, but hers was smaller, only allowing another clip for her RN tag. Each night consisted of me as a toddler pulling on the name tag and watching the cord return to the circular piece of plastic, unable to see the thin cable coil within. The small piece of nostalgia sets a comforting warmth in my chest.

Despite the insignificant memory, I snicker at his device. The sight of such a young and handsome man keeping his keys together with such an instrument is dorky, and definitely cute.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he sighs, flipping the fluorescent lights on. I follow him in while getting a look around his classroom.

It's relatively simple and mundane, surprisingly enough. Not like I was expecting red velvet walls or a jacuzzi, but maybe something with a bit more personality. The walls are neatly littered with the typical English teacher posters, from "Best Shakespeare Quotes" to the differences between "to," "too," and "two." There's a blank white board in front of rows of desks and a projection screen pulled down over it. Across the room are a few book shelves consisting of dictionaries, thesauruses, and books worth reading. From the distance I can easily spot several of my own favorite books, instantly earring couple brownie points from me.

I follow Mr. Hiddleston who takes a left, as a wall with a pencil sharpener blocks the right. We walk parallel to a wall which is entirely ceiling high cabinets, all closed to the curious eye. His desk sits catty corner and is much like his classroom: mess free and boring. I consider making a comment but stop myself when I notice a few photos on the filing cabinet. One is him with a graduation cap and gown, his hands bearing a diploma. The next looks like a guys night out with Mr. Hiddleston wearing a (distractingly tight) black shirt and two other men accompanying him. And last, and the one that is set before the others, is a picture of the teacher with an older woman. I can only assume it's his mother. This causes a heart warmed smile to etch across my face. It's always lovely and precious to see older men respecting and appreciating their mothers. My own tells me "mama's boys" are the worst type of man to date because in her mind, they are still children who cling to their mothers for support, emotion and financially. I have to remind her that it's not the case for every man, just for the guy she chose to marry.

"Please, set the books wherever you like." My random tangent gets interrupted by a voice, causing me to jump six feet. Mr. Hiddleston places his stack of books on his desk. I would follow suit but looking at the small space, I decide to give his personal bubble some room and I move to the nearest student desk.

Brushing my hands over my black jeans, I turn around. While the teacher shuffled through stacks of papers, I awkwardly and silently stand close to his desk. Only a few second pass do I actually realize my situation: me with the hottest teacher, all alone. I can only imagine all the jealous teenagers clawing at this chance. However, I have a job downstairs waiting for me. "Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Hiddleston?"

His eyes quickly shoot up. "Oh, uh no. No, thank you." Mr. Hiddleston pauses a moment to set his papers down. "I'm sorry for keeping you. I was looking to see what hour of the day I have you, but it appears there isn't one."

My eyebrows knit together at his comment. "Well, you'd have to look for a "Carolyn" if that were the case." I pause for a moment, confusion riddling my face. "Wait, whaddya mean?" Almost instantly, I'm repulsed by my southern slang, despite myself not having any drawl to my words. My voice is basically that of an incoherent cave woman compared to his smooth, charming accent. Aside from this, I feel myself floating; he's looking for a time to see me again. I have to contain a girlish squeal just as reality sets in. He's probably just curious if he actually has me or is considering making a "see you at this time" comment. Nonetheless, my heart skips a beat or two.

"Most seniors take my course as their final English requirement. Are you not a senior?"

I feel myself dimming at his comment. Unfortunately, it would appear reality strikes again. But it was honestly quite ridiculous for me to even consider the reason why he was looking for my name was for something other than educational. However, I simultaneously feel my body lighting up. "Oh, no, I definitely am a senior. I chose the writing class for my English elective. I, uh, want to be a writer so I figured it would help in the long run."

Mr. Hiddleston seems interested in what I have to say. Most tell me writing isn't a career or I have a one in a million chance in making it big. Well, if George Lucas can write the three prequels all alone and still make bank, I think I've got a pretty good shot. "Fascinating! What is your preferred genre?"

With some hesitation, I blurt out, "Fantasy, but also some horror and thrillers. I've tried sci-fi once; didn't work out too well."

"I love a good scary story," he comments, giving me a wink. I take this as a small gesture, but my insides are literally screaming. Never has a friendly wink turned me into a flustering mess. Part of me say he knows what he can do, and if that's the case, he's quite the cocky bastard.

Playing along, I give my shoulder a shrug and coolly reply, "Perhaps I can run a rough or final draft by you."

"I wouldn't mind that at all."

How does such a small statement cause all my organs and two hundred and six bones to turn into jelly?

Brushing my long hair from my face, I peek over at the clock. It's been a bit longer than I expected, the hands informing me I have five minutes left of my first class period. "Well, I ought to get going if there isn't anything else I can do for you?" I make sure to say this in the form of a question. I wouldn't mind being late to my next class just to see a gorgeous face a while longer.

Mr. Hiddleston's lips part for a moment just before clamming shut. The look in his blue eyes tell me he wants to say something, but doesn't. I'm not sure what would constitute such a hesitation; initially, I thought he would have asked me to help shelve the twenty-or-so books. The look is intense, or appears to be, just for a flash, less than a second. My own anxieties begin to shake just as a kind smile grows along his lips. "No, but I do appreciate the offer. Thank you, Carolyn."

I visibly cringe at my legal name, this look not going by the teacher so easily. He bursts a small laugh. "Not a fan or your name, are we?"

Shaking my head, I say, "No particularly. It's a bit vintage. Well, not terribly so, but I'm not over the moon about it." I pause awkwardly, my flustered nerves getting the better of me. I croak out some sounds before finishing my tangent. "I go by Lynn, though."

"Lynn it is then," Mr. Hiddleston announces. "I'll let you get going then. The bell will ring soon and I don't want you to be late on your first day back because of me."

I smirk while crossing over to the door. "Nah, I don't mind." Instantly I want to smack the back of my head. To anyone listening it would sound like I had been flirting with a teacher. Well, to be fair it would have sounded like it not matter what time someone were to jump in at. Even so, this comment I naturally came up with put me in a case of "oh fuck." With reddened cheeks, I take a look over my shoulder so see Mr. Hiddleston unfazed by my comment, thank the holy lord, except a ever growing smile. He takes his eyes off the paper in front of him, meeting me with his pretty blues.

"I'll see you around, Lynn."

"Likewise." And with that, I part down the hall, this time invested in taking the elevator.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

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songsofacagedbird · 3 years

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Is that BALIAN “BALO” DRISKELL? Wow, they do look a lot like EMILIIE DE RAVIN I hear SHE is an EIGHTEEN year old high school SENIOR. Word is they are a REGULAR student at Luxor Academy. You should watch out because they can be NAIVE and SENSITIVE, but on the bright side they can also be BUBBLY and OPTIMISTIC. Ultimately, you’ll get to see it all for yourself.

the basics //

Full Name: Balian “Balo” Grace Driskell

Preferred Name: Balo Driskell

Age: 18

Birthday: February 23rd

Zodiac: Pisces

Gender & Pronouns: Woman (She/Hers)

Sexuality: Balo doesn’t label her sexuality, she’s part of the LGBT+ community (and has canonly dated both girls and boys) but she doesn’t feel comfortable labeling it personally.

Occupation: N/A, she occasionally does commissions though (both art and in like making clothes)

Relationship Status: In a relationship with Cade Carroll (npc) since early May

Place of Birth: Rochester, New York

Hometown: Saratoga Springs, New York

Country of Citizenship: United States

Languages Spoken: English (first) and French

deeper dive //

Hobbies and Talents:

○ Sketching (in particular people and animals, an inspiration board for her sketch book can be found here.)

○ Painting

○ Gymnastics (her leg is her left leg! By “her leg” I mean the leg she leads off with / does her split with for her floor routine / has better balance)

○ Fashion Design and Sewing

○ Cheerleading

○ Gymnastics

○ Yoga

○ Roller Skating

○ Scrapbooking

○ Dancing (a hobby, not a talent)

○ She can touch her nose with her tongue

Favorites:

○ Color: The entire rainbow, Balo has issues with picking one favorite color so she doesn’t choose.

○ Food: Balo’s not the biggest on food but she has a weakness for popcorn. Extra butter, light on the salt.

○ Animal: Cats

○ Drink: Hot Chocolate

○ Flower: Sunflowers

○ Book: a fairy tale collection she got from Zander when she was a child

○ Holiday: Christmas, to the point she’ll start decorating as early as she can. (June? Why not!)

○ Movie: The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh

○ Scent: Strawberries, real a bit more than the artificial but she adores both.

○ Place: Her “little art studio” (technically just a corner of her room with her art supplies).

○ Quote:

“Butterflies can’t see their wings. They can’t see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can. People are like that as well.” - Unknown

Bêtes Noires:

○ Color: Dark brown, although she won’t admit to it

○ Food: Chicken à la King

○ Animal: Spiders, Balo does not like spiders and would like to stay far away from them

○ Drink: Matcha

○ Flower: Nepenthes peltata

○ Book: The Divergent Books

○ Holiday: 4th of July

○ Movie: Rugrats in Paris, she thinks it’s practically a horror movie

○ Scent: Garlic

○ Place: The Driskell family home in Saratoga Springs

health //

Conditions:

○ Anorexia Nervosa

○ HIV

Allergies: N/A

Sleeping Habits: Balo gets to bed usually at a good time and sleeps 8 hours at a shot.

Exercise Habits: She exercises multiple times of day, between gymnastics and cheerleading, it’s important she’s in prime shape. Dance and Yoga are her go-tos outside of practice.

Addictions: N/A

Drug Use: Very rarely. After a bad LSD trip (when she wasn’t aware she was being drugged until after the fact), she’s very wary of drugs on average.

Alcohol Use: Occasionally. Balo doesn’t have a high alcohol tolerance, she gets tipsy after one drink and if she keeps drinking, after a couple the odds of her stripping are extremely high. (It’s not a sexual thing, she overheats and doesn’t really think about the consequences).

personality //

MBTI: ESFP

Enneagram: 2w3 (The Helper with The Achiever Wing)

Alignment: Neutral Good

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Percy Jackson Parent: Iris

Pokémon Type: Dragon

Pokémon Subtype: Ghost

Winx: Nature

appearance //

Height: 5′11” – not at fc height (I enjoy her being a few cm taller than Zander too much to put her at fc now #oops)

Tattoos: One

Scars: None

Piercings: Ears

Hair: Blonde

Eyes: Blue

Fashion:

○ link to balo’s closet

○ link to balo’s shoes

life at luxor //

Classes:

○ Communications

○ French

○ General P.E.

○ Visual Arts

○ Fashion Design

○ Human Biology

○ Beginner Ballet

Clubs and Activities:

○ Art Club

○ Cheerleading (Flyer)

○ Gymnastics

fun facts //

○ Balo has been attending Luxor since her Freshman year.

○ Balo’s kind of a literal ray of sunshine who believes (almost) everyone is truly good at heart.

○ Very easy to manipulate, please manipulate her. I’ll literally give you my firstborn.

○ Usually you’ll see her running around with a smile trying to brighten everyone’s day. She tries to put everyone’s happiness before herself, however, she’s slowly getting better about forming boundaries.

○ While it’d be easy to assume Balo’s dumb, that’s not quite the case. She only remembers the information she wants to. The issue is... most of the information she wants to learn is relatively useless. Want to know how to sew sutures? She’s your girl. Want to know the definition of cannibalism? Well, ask Jack how that goes.

○ She has two teddy bears and an American Girl doll living on her dresser. Duffy, Shelley-Mae, and Robin Banks. They’re decorative, but they make her happy.

○ One of her best friends is Logan Keller, the boy who went missing during the summer camping trip. The two are still in touch, and extremely close, so occasionally he gets mentioned here and there, but it’s still a sore spot for her (I am still in touch with the person who played him, so I run stuff by his mun when / if he comes up).

○ Jack’s adoptive parents recently adopted her, although she hasn’t said a lot about it. Your muse probably won’t know unless one of the two directly told them (or they heard it from Zander). It’s not a secret, she just didn’t make an announcement or anything.

○ In October 2019, Zander had an intervention for her to force her to get help for her eating disorder. She was in inpatient until April 2020, when she returned to Luxor.

○ Cheer and Gymnastics team member from Freshmen year until her intervention, and she returned to both teams this fall with the new school year.

○ Balo’s left handed (the only one of my muses that is a lefty)!

○ I’m aware Balo’s family page can be complicated, please feel free to dm me with questions. Also, please remember Balo doesn’t know she’s Daniel’s daughter, let alone the fact there’s even a chance Lance isn’t her father, which means your muse has absolutely no way of knowing this.

○ Befriended a stray racoon on the Lake George campus she named Reese Withercoon.

○ Literally only just said her first swear word this June, we’re very proud of her for finally getting that done. (#ThanksAxelAndLeo)

○ Balo finds the Winnie the Pooh theme song extremely soothing, which resulted in her naming a certain group chat with a set of friends the 100 Acre Woods - because she finds spending time with them soothing too.

○ I’m always willing to discuss my muses, so feel free to hit me up if you have any questions at any point.

a tl;dr history //

○ Balo’s home life growing up was far from perfect. Her father, Lance - is an abusive alcoholic, and while her mother tried her best to protect her children - she also covered things up without hesitation because she loves her husband. It wasn’t uncommon to see a Driskell in the ER with a lie and people willing to back up the story.

○ Balo was conceived during the time Lance and Cassandra were seperated the only time that her mother tried to leave. She’s completely unaware that she’s not Lance’s biological daughter (as is everyone else).

○ She’s been attending Luxor since freshman year, although she had to leave in the middle of her Junior year had to leave for a few months to attend extensive inpatient treatment. She came back in April, although she could not rejoin the cheerleading and gymnastic teams until her therapist confirmed she was doing well (so the start of her senior year) because of concerns about her well-being.

○ She was disowned following her HIV diagnosis over the fall. Over the winter, the Fieldings adopted Balo.

○ I strongly recommend skimming Balo’s timeline page before interacting with her. These are just the bare minimum basics, and there're more things your muse may know on there.

wanted connections //

○ Friendships

○ Someone to manipulate her, please I beg you

○ Anyone who knows her from the gymnastics and/or cheer teams, or the art club

#luxorintro #child abuse tw #abuse tw #HIV tw #disownment tw #eating disorder tw #anorexia tw #drugs tw #alcohol tw

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skelenyxx · 5 years

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4 - Secret British Accent Society ~ WOR

"Let the eagle fly. Freedom in the night. Let the eagle fly. Legends never die!" ~ New Years Day

.•*•.•*•.•*•.

*Katrina's POV*

People gave us weird looks as we passed them heading to our class. Yeah, we're weird. Get over it.

I stopped us in front of the classroom, M5. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and lead the group in.

"Good afternoon Miss Stampson," Mrs. Pendell said.

"Hi Mrs. Pendell. How are you?" I replied. She was a pretty woman in her mid twenties with long brown hair and green eyes. She was always kind. She knew how to employ discipline in students without being mean. I had her for three years as a math teacher and she was one of my favorites.

"I'm fine, thank you." She turned her attention to the boys. "Ah, you must be the gentlemen from the band. What are your names?"

Jinxx stepped forward first. "You can call me Jinxx," he said as he reached out his hand so she could shake it. She gave him a curious look and accepted the gesture.

"Jinxx? Don't you have a last name?"

"It's just Jinxx," he stated with a smile.

Andy stepped in. "My name's Andy, Andy Biersack."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Biersack."

The introductions continued and when Ash finally stepped up, Mrs. Pendell eyed him suspiciously. "You're not going to be a trouble maker, are you Mr. Purdy?" She asked pointedly.

Ashley chuckled. "No ma'm."

She continued to look at him, but directed the boys to their seats, which were directly in front of mine in the back of the class room. I pulled out my phone as the bell rang and began to scroll through Twitter. I smiled as I saw a picture that CC snapped with the guys in front of the school this morning. He blurred out the name of the school, but it was apparent to me that it was our school. In the picture, Jinxx was pulling one of his mysterious poses, Jake was pretending to strangle CC, and Andy looked like he was about to bite Ashley's head off. Literally.

I decided to post something about what is going on. So while the guys were paying attention to Mrs. Pendell, I discretely snapped a picture of the guys and posted it.

@notyouraverageKat: Regretting your decision yet boys? xD @AndyBlack @ccbvb @JinxxBVB @AshleyPurdy @JakePittsBVB

I saw Andy pull out his phone and not long after, my phone vibrated.

@AndyBlack: @notyouraverageKat I forgot why I hated math in high school.

I quickly replied back.

@notyouraverageKat: @AndyBlack Haha. Thinking about backing out yet?

@AndyBlack: @notyouraverageKat I don't give up that easy.

@notyouraverageKat: @AndyBlack Just wait till English. Mr. Fredricks will have you runnin with your tail between your legs.

@AndyBlack: @notyouraverageKat but I don't need English. I speak British.

@notyouraverageKat: @AndyBlack You and your Secret British Accent Society.

@AndyBlack: @notyouraverageKat Yep. SBAS.

@notyouraverageKat: @AndyBlack More like BS.

@AndyBlack: @notyouraverageKat not even

@AshleyPurdy: @AndyBlack @notyouraverageKat What's this I hear about a tail between the legs?

@JinxxBVB: @AndyBlack @notyouraverageKat @AshleyPurdy I am deeply intrigued.

@JakePittsBVB: @JinxxBVB wtf dude?

@notyouraverageKat: @AshleyPurdy @JakePittsBVB @JinxxBVB I was talking about our English teacher, Mr. Fredricks

@AshleyPurdy: @notyouraverageKat why do we need to take English?! I've been speaking English for 28 years. I don't need English!

@ccbvb: @AshleyPurdy You're 30 dude. What did you speak the other 2 years?

@AshleyPurdy: @ccbvb Gibberish

@notyouraverageKat: @AshleyPurdy @ccbvb omfg

@JinxxBVB: @notyouraverageKat @AshleyPurdy @ccbvb @JakePittsBVB @AndyBlack But at least in English you can use big words like supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

@notyouraverageKat: @JinxxBVB I thought Andy was the one who uses big words.

@AndyBlack: @notyouraverageKat He stole my job.

@notyouraverageKat: @AndyBlack @JinxxBVB @AshleyPurdy @ccBVB @JakePittsBVB haha well you guys might wanna put your phones away or you're gonna get detention.

@ccbvb: @notyouraverageKat psh. Nah.

@notyouraverageKat: @ccbvb suit yourself

I put my phone down and right on cue, Mrs. Pendell called CC out.

"Mr. Coma. Would you like to spend after school in detention?"

CC looked up from his phone like a deer in headlights and I suppressed a laugh.

"No ma'm."

"Then put your phone away and pay attention."

I pulled out my phone and typed up something on Twitter.

@notyouraverageKat: @ccbvb BUSTED

CC silently pulled out his phone and typed something.

@ccbvb: @notyouraverageKat oh shut up

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

The rest of the school day passed seamlessly. The guys seemed bored out of their minds for most of it, but still kept up. They seemed to have the most fun in P.E., although it's quite understandable why. We were playing dodgeball and it was boys against girls.

When the game started, it was pretty even. Of course, the guys were on the opposite team. Most of the people of the boys' team avoided them, which resulted in them getting hit by my team. I greatly enjoyed hitting a few guys in the face, but the best part was when it became a rivalry between the guys and I. I managed to hit Andy in the back and got him out. The rest of the guys turned toward me and started throwing the balls. They missed. Ash threw his ball a little too high and I caught it, which sent him out, too. Then CC, Jinxx and Jake all threw at the same time and I couldn't dodge them. So I was out too.

I pulled out of the parking lot and smiled as I went through the day in my head. It truly had been a good day.

I pulled into the parking area of my apartment complex, underneath the overhang. I got out and grabbed my bag.

George was working the front desk as I walked into the lobby. "Hey Katrina. How was school?" George was 20 with blonde hair and pale skin. His hazel eyes stood out from his complexion and contrasted with his black snakebites. His dad owned the complex, so even though he wasn't that sociable, he still got a job.

"It was actually pretty good," I told him as I leaned on the front desk.

"That's a first in what, a month?'

"It's only been about a week!" I exclaimed.

"Whatever," he laughed. "So what's got you all happy?"

"I finally got my Senior Project going!" I smiled a cheesy grin. "You're not going to believe what band it is!"

"What band?"

"Guess."

He thought for a few seconds. "Is it at least a good band?"

"I would say most definitely."

"What genre?"

"Rock."

He thought some more, then his face lit up with realization. "It's BVB isn't it!"

"How'd you know?" I asked him.

"I saw a pic of them on Twitter this morning out in front of a high school. I didn't realize until now that it was the high school here, though. Damn, you really know how to work your connections don't you?" He gave me a smirk.

"Actually I didn't do anything but send out the request. The school did everything. I didn't even know they were coming until this morning." I stuck out my tongue.

"You're mature," he laughed.

"Haha that's what Jinxx said."

"Wait, so you actually talked to them!?" He was going fanboy with this. He too was a huge fan of BVB.

"Yeah and they're really cool. I spent most of lunch with them and they're taking all the same classes I am, so yeah."

Right then, George's dad, Mr. Baxter, walked in. He looked at George and I talking and said, "George, get back to work before I cut your pay to minimum wage."

George scrambled back to his papers and started writing.

"Well I gotta go anyway. See you later, George," I said as I waved goodbye.

"Bye Katrina," he said without looking up.

I took the elevator to the third floor, being too lazy to take the stairs. As I entered my apartment, I tossed my bag to the floor and walked into my room. The wall opposite the door had a window and under that sat my bed. My bed had a purple and teal polka-dotted bedspread and black sheets. In the left corner beside my bed was a darkened wood framed mirror, and on the other side of my bed was a light wooded desk covered in papers, makeup supplies, and a few curling irons and flat irons. On the right wall was the doorless closet.

My walls were white, but you wouldn't be able to tell that by looking at the left wall. The entire wall was covered in band related things: quotes, pictures, and posters of BVB, SWS, MCR, Linkin Park, PTV and Breaking Benjamin. There was also a Black Ops II and a Call of Duty: Ghosts poster up there as well. Any portion of the wall that didn't have anything on it was covered up by a neon pink post-it note that had song lyrics written on it.

The rest of my walls were dedicated to my friends and I. There were scattered pictures of us at football games and rallies, making stupid faces and climbing on each other's backs. There were a few pictures that we had taken of us at the Sadie's dance a few years back and at our Junior Prom. Looking at those pictures made me miss them, but I couldn't take them down. They were the first people to ever accept the real me. And regardless of whether they were close friends or not, they made my high school years worth it. They kept me happy and out of the darkness that seemed to overwhelm my life. But lately, even their occasional company was enough to help. The darkness had been really clouding my life. The arrival of the guys had really helped today, but in a week, they'll be leaving too, and I'll be back to my solitary life.

I pushed that thought from my mind. I couldn't be focusing on the past that I couldn't change or the future that hadn't even happened yet. I had to focus on the here and now.

I pulled off my leather jacket and the rest of my clothes. I pulled on a pair of old and comfortable ripped up jeans and an ACDC shirt that I had cut and tied into a razor back. I pulled my long, dirty blonde hair into a ponytail and sat down on my bed, looking at the framed picture of my parents and I that sat on my bedside table.

In the picture, I was about three years old. I had my light blonde hair pulled up into two pigtails and I was smiling really big, like I was having the time of my life. I was sitting on my dad's shoulders, holding on to his head while he held my legs. He had a graying mustache, brown hair and blue eyes. His face was smiling, with creases by his eyes. Right beside us was my mom, long blonde hair, hazel eyes, and worry wrinkles on her forehead. She was looking at us, smiling with happiness and love. Why did I have to lose that?

I can still remember the voice of the man taking me out of daycare, telling me that my parents were gone, that I was never going to see them again. To be honest he couldn't have been more blunt. I remember the day that I was put in the orphanage. Both my parents were an only child and my grandparents were dead, so I had no where to go. And I remember curling up in my new room and crying for hours, with no one there to comfort me. I had only been three, going on four, and that picture was the only picture I had left of us. Merely days after I got put in the orphanage, our house got burned down by an arsonist. Ironic, I know.

I pushed those thoughts from my mind as well. I didn't want to think about those things, not on a day as great as this.

Seconds later, my phone dinged, pulling me back to reality. I checked it and it was Andy. I had given the guys my number in case they needed it for help on homework, but I wasn't actually expecting them to use it.

(A/N: A=Andy K=Katrina)

A: Math is killing meeeeeeeeeeeee. Like I don't ever remember doing this shit

K: Haha need help?

A: YES we have been trying to do this for like an hour and we haven't figured it out yet.

K: Well then I'm on my way

A: Bring fooooooooooood ~ Ashley

A: Sorry, Ash took my phone

K: Lol well tell him that I'll bring Taco Bell xD

A: Ugh Jake told me to tell you to bring Chinese food (don't do it)

K: Well tell Jake that ima broke ass bitch so it aint happening

A: Rofl ok

I chuckled as I put my phone in my pocket and started to head out to my car.

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

I pulled into the driveway of the house that they were staying in. It was quite large. I got out and walked to the door. Before I even had the chance to knock, the door swung open to CC.

"FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!" He screamed as he snatched the bag out of my hands and ran inside. Jake came to the door and let me in.

"Apparently CC is hungry," he said to me as he led me to the living room where everyone was at.

"Apparently," I laughed as we entered.

"THANK YOU!" CC said with a mouth full of food.

I laughed, "You're welcome, CC."

Andy patted the seat beside him on the couch and said, "So we figured out how to do the problem."

"How'd you manage that?" I inquired as I sat down.

"You sound surprised," Jinxx remarked.

"Yeah, we're smart," Ashley added.

"Sometimes," Jake said.

I laughed. "No it's not that, it's just that Andy made it sound like it was terrible."

"It was. But we looked it up on YouTube," Andy said.

"So you cheated?"

"No! It's called using your resources."

"Sure it is," I laughed.

Next thing I know, CC is flying through the air and landing on me and Andy. I squealed and pushed him off of us onto the floor. Everyone was laughing as CC pouted at me.

"Meany," he said.

"Hey, you're the one who jumped on us," I laughed.

CC shrugged and got up off the floor and walked out of the room. Moments later, he returned with a movie in hand.

"What movie is that?" Jinxx asked him as he put it into the CD player.

"Oculus," he stated with a devilish grin.

"YES!" I screamed while throwing my arms in the air. "HORROR MOVIE!"

"Someone's excited," Jake stated while sitting down.

"I love horror movies," I gushed. "They scare the living crap out of me but I still love them."

"Well good, you'll fit right in," Andy laughed as he pulled out a blanket

We all settled down around the living room and watched the movie. Multiple times I curled up in a ball, covering my eyes when I thought a jumpscare was about to happen. After about the 5th time, Andy turned to look at me and chuckled.

"I thought you like horror movies."

"I do but I hate jumpscares," I replied as I curled into a ball again and braced for another one. In the dark I saw him smirk as he scooted closer to me and put his arm around me. I sighed, uncurled and accepted the gesture.

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

Sometime during the movie, I dozed off. I had a dreamless sleep, which was sort of unusual considering I normally have endless nightmares and the occasional night terror. I woke to someone laughing.

I opened my eyes to a blinding light. At first, I wasn't sure where I was, but as my eyes adjusted, I made out the living room and remembered. The person laughing was Jake. He stood in front of me and was laughing, seemingly, at me.

After a moment, I realized why. I was on the couch with a blanket over me, and I had been sleeping on Andy. His arm was still around me and I had been resting on his shoulder.

I immediately got up and tried not to wake him, but he woke anyway.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"You two were sleeping together on the couch," Jake replied whilst still laughing. I fought the blush rising to my cheeks. Then I realized something.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"7:00 am. Why?"

"Shit. I need to go to my apartment to get ready for school at 8:00."

"I'll go with you," Andy offered as he got up and began to head upstairs to where I assume his room is.

Within a few minutes, Andy came back down and we headed to my car. As we drove down the road, Andy went through a few of my CDs and pulled one out. With a smirk, he put it in without me seeing. I immediately recognized the sound of Exordium ringing through the vehicle. I smiled as I mouthed the words.

The kingdom of God is inside you and all around you

Not in a mansion of wood and stone

Split a piece of wood, and God is there

Lift a stone, and you will find God

I laughed lightly as I saw Andy do the same as me.

When we pulled up, I rushed inside with Andy in tow. When we got to my apartment, he stayed in my room while I changed in the bathroom. A purple T-shirt and dark blue skinny jeans, simple, but perfect for me. I flat ironed my hair real quick and put on a light amount of makeup. I also put on my Warped Tour rubber band bracelet and my BVB rosary necklace.

I exited the bathroom to find Andy going through the CDs on my self.

"You have quite the collection of albums over here," he commented.

I smiled. "Thanks. Whenever I have extra money, I go out and buy a CD. I prefer hard copies."

"Damn. Green Day, Falling in Reverse, Sleeping With Sirens, Pierce the Veil, Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin, Avenged Sevenfold, Flyleaf, and there's still more!"

"Heh, yeah."

He turned to a picture on my wall of me with BVB. It was taken a few years ago at one of their shows. It was the first and only concert I had ever been to.

"You met us?"

"Yeah, years ago. Wretched and Divine Tour."

He smiled. "What other shows have you seen?"

"That's the only one I've ever been to."

"I feel lucky."

He then picked up the picture of my parents and I. He is in a really curious mood.

"Are these your parents?"

"Yeah."

"Where are they now?"

"They uh moved. They moved to Maryland. I moved into the apartment so I could stay here." That was a boldfaced lie. They're gone. But I wouldn't tell him that. He didn't need my pity story.

"Oh."

"I don't mean to dampen your curious mood, but we need to get going if we're gonna make it to school on time."

"Oh, right. School. Fun."

"Haha you know it. Come on. Let's go."

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itsjayjensen · 6 years

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10 (+8) Questions Tag

Tagged by @authordai Took me forever to do it because I’ve been super busy

1. Pen Name - Yay or Nay and why?

I actually use a pen name. J.L. is my first and middle initial and Jensen is a made up last name. Mostly because my last name would feel pretentious to put on a book (My real last name is Read)

2. What 3 books are must reads in your opinion?

The Dark Half and The Outsider by Stephen King and The Savior’s Champion by Jenna Moreci.

3. Do you add Easter Eggs aka hidden references into your stories?

I don’t think I did but honestly I use references for everything that I don’t even notice

4. Where do you see yourself in five years - in regards of writing?

My novella or a book of short stories published (Whichever I can put together first, I’m working on both my novella and my short stories, which is why it’s taking me forever to edit)

5. Name your favorite character of all time (all the other books)

George Stark from The Dark Half by Stephen King. High toned son of a bitch

6. Name your favorite character of all time (your books)

Justice from Infection is my favorite because she’s such a strong woman. I love her.

7. Are there any skills (aside from writing) that you learned because of/for your WIP?

I don’t think so? I mean I learned a lot but I don’t think I learned any skills.

8. How would you want to see your writing published?

I want to be traditionally published just because I don’t have the assets or anything to self publish and for it to actually sell but honestly if I ever do get said assets, I wouldn’t be against self publishing.

9. What is one thing other writers can learn from you?

Probably nothing important, just that I’m pretty dark with my writing lol

10. Do you have any uncommon sources of inspiration?

A lot of my inspiration comes from very common sources. Infection came from an episode of The Walking Dead that sparked my curiosity.

Extras

11. Describe the main character(s) of your story. Do you think you would be friends with them?

Caroline- Smart, skeptical. I would probably be friends with her I would just have to get used to her.

Alex- he has a very negative view on the world so I would definitely be friends with him

Bethany- She keeps to herself and doesn’t make friends, so I would not be friends with her.

Justice- Mother of three, also very skeptical. I’d def be friends with her.

David- Doctor, literally the nicest person you’ll ever meet, will do anything to avoid drama. I’d probably be friends with him

12. The weirdest thing you ever researched for a wip?

"How long does it take one to choke on their own vomit?”

13. What is more important to you, character or plot?

I personally think they go hand in hand.

14. Plotter or pantser (or plantser)?

Plantser- I outline the bare necessities and then add on as I go

15. Share a piece of writing advice that has really helped you! :)

Very simple quote my creative writing teacher in high school shared: “The first draft of anything is shit.”- Earnest Hemmingway

16. Writing prompts, yay or nay?

It depends. I’ve had writing prompts that I absolutely hated but my most beloved short story, Donny, came from a creative writing prompt my senior year and it won a writing competition. It just depends on if I can actually picture a story happening or not.

17. The weirdest thing that has inspired you?

My tattoo artist- I based a character off him. Haven’t used said character in any of my writing, but I have him planned out for when I need him

Oh and also my sophomore year in creative writing my teacher told us to just write something random and then said “I’ll collect your souls at the end of the semester” and I wrote a story about his big ass beard collecting souls and someone shaving his face and setting them free. He loved it.

18. If you had to write outside your genre what would you write?

I really love fantasy so maybe that

#tag #tags #tag game #questions #question tag

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sagealex · 7 years

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the post about banned books is obviously in reference to books banned on local and state levels, in schools, but even so, public school is likely where most people do the majority of their thoughtful reading in their life.

discussion of this issue brings back memories of a very specific time in my schooling, and, for some reason, I feel like sharing them.

i graduated from high school a couple years ago, and the whole black lives matter movement got up and going while i was in school. the george zimmerman trial happened while i was in my sophomore year of high school, and in class we were reading Fahrenheit 451, and on my own time, I was reading The Complete Transcript of the Martin Luther King, Jr. Assasination Conspiracy Trial.

I had heard of the hashtag #blacklivesmatter already, and I had already formed an opinion about it, but there’s always this anxious few-to-several months between when I hear about something and when my parents see it enough times on the news to get angry and talk about it. So there was a lot of time between when I realized what was happening, and when I realized what everyone else thought was happening.

I remember the day it started. It started in English class.

I remember talking about Jesus on TV in Fahrenheit 451, the morality or immorality was irrelevant when he was only meant for entertainment and advertisement. TV was allowed, but thinking about ideas with any depth wasn’t. And then I remember going home and hearing, for the first time, what my family had decided was true about Trayvon Martin. And then the morning after that I realized the reality of the fact that, despite the information being publicly available for years, most people didn’t know that MLK was killed by agents of the federal government.

And while the connection between these things doesn’t seem immediately obvious even now, that same morning, the pledge of allegiance made me sick. Students were allowed to stay silent during the pledge in my school, so I stood up like I had for nearly every day of my life up to that point, and I put my hand over my heart and opened my mouth, and physically gagged on the pledge. I just let my hand drop, and I looked down, literally in shame, because I couldn’t do it anymore.

I had been an incredibly patriotic person my whole life, and then suddenly I couldn’t do it anymore.

And when I went to English class later that day, we discussed book burning, and how the information that is destroyed and hidden is probably the most important information to dig into, and I felt

Awful. Just awful.

And after that I started making my own posters and flyers for protests. I had a binder with a hand-drawn pair of black hands upright, with that quote attributed to Alex Hamilton (the British sports commentator), I had my friends hand-copy posters I had drawn up about freedom of speech and net neutrality and such things, I brought articles about recent shootings and protests into my human relations class, as that teacher had a recap of the news every week. And I thought it would all make me feel better. I thought it would make it all better.

It didn’t. I still feel awful. I feel awful and sick, and even though I’m outspoken in some spheres, in others I have to sit by silently in order to be allowed to stay under the roof I have right now, and to keep from earning suspicion from my highly controlling family. I’m the one who watches my siblings right now, one of whom isn’t allowed to go anywhere or do anything without supervision.

The reading of Fahrenheit 451, along with other books on this list, in high school, while I was coming into adulthood and society at large, created some sort of space in my mind. The space created by Fahrenheit 451 was the exact size and shape of the knowledge that, even though we’re taught about Martin Luther King, Jr. in school, even though anyone could see video of so many murders of black people, even though the books are there! They’re right there!

Information is denied by those for whom it is inconvenient.

When we can’t read To Kill a Mockingbird, we don’t get the chance to empathize with people who are blamed by all of their society for something they clearly did not do. When we can’t read Steinbeck’s books about the Great Depression, we don’t get the chance to face the bitter reality faced by refugees of situations they had no hand in. Uncle Tom’s Cabin was a nail in the fucking coffin of America’s ability to defend slavery, and for a school to ban it is to deny history, and further obscure the reality of the darkness of America’s history.

For every book I read in my AP classes in my junior and senior years of high school, my English teacher had a different story about how the conservative powers that be in my city would come to him, as head of the English department, and scream at him over the contents of the books he’d have the students read. He told us that, every time, those adults would come prepared with quotes from the books that someone else had given them, since they had never opened the books themselves.

I still haven’t found a way to put this experience fully into words, but in high school English class, a net in the vague shape of the unfairness of the world was weaved to catch onto the ideas that people didn’t want to discuss. Before I had even finished Fahrenheit 451, I lost my faith in the information presented by the TV, I lost faith in the possibility that i might someday reconcile my beliefs with those of the adults in my community, and I lost faith in my country. I lost faith in the idea that everyone will someday come around to the objective truth, and this made me feel ill in a way that hasn’t relented since.

But, in the end of Fahrenheit 451, they talk about the Phoenix, and how people will go on burning themselves down, generation after generation, and how all we have to do is to remember. As long as there’s someone here paying attention, and making it their job to remember what really happened, and to recall the information that was contained by books that others burned, there’s still hope for humanity.

I still don’t know whether things will be okay. I don’t know whether my participation in politics will make any impact, whether I’ll ever have an idea that would really make the world a better place, whether I’ll always live my life in alternate bouts of proud protest and cowed silence, whether people will keep on dying for no reason.

But I know that I can definitely make information more available, and take information from behind paywalls and give it freely to those who are searching for it. And that’s what I’m doing here.

#freedom of press #censoring #documents #banned books #literature #mine

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midlandofficial · 7 years

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Wide Open Country: The Truth About Midland

By Jeremy Burchard | September 29, 2017

Editor’s note: Jeremy Burchard is a Senior Music Writer for Wide Open Country and Associate Editor of Texas Music. The following op-ed is a response to articles by the blog Saving Country Music that question the legitimacy and authenticity of rising country trio Midland.

Kyle Coroneos, the author and founder of Saving Country Music, is wrong about Midland. Also known as “Trigger,” he is a talented writer with strong convictions and a passionate readership.

But he’s wrong about that band. He’s wrong when he calls them “bullshitters.” He’s wrong when he calls two-thirds of them “Hollywood elite,” and he’s very wrong when he claims they didn’t write their music, but are instead the product of Shane McAnally and Music Row machinations.

And it matters that he’s wrong. Because over the past week, Coroneos’ articles have been making their way across important spheres of influence. People within the music industry, whom I know and respect, are reading these articles and sharing them, taking them at face value. People who work in radio, other artists, venue owners, publicists and writers see this narrative. And because those articles seem compelling (if not dramatic), a lot of them believe it, which is both unfair and potentially damaging to a band that, despite their recent success, is still new to a lot of people.

The “Authenticity” Argument

I authored a spotlight article on Midland for the new issue of Texas Music magazine, spending hours researching the band and listening to both their new and old music. I interviewed them, songwriter/producer Shane McAnally and producer Dan Huff. And I watched them perform at the Springwater Supper Club & Lounge in Nashville. They served mini hamburgers and mini hot dogs. I was tempted, but refrained.

“Authenticity” is a slippery slope and a pointless argument. About 95% of George Strait’s music came from other writers. Brad Paisley doesn’t drink alcohol but one of his most popular songs ever is called “Alcohol.” Robert Johnson never sold his soul to the devil, and the Beatles intentionally fed false stories to New Musical Express. It goes on and on.

But Coroneos seems to create his own benchmarks of authenticity and then peddles accusations to meet them. He never spoke to the band or anybody associated with them. He intentionally does this, he tells me, because he believes interviews can “erode objectivity.”

“I’m not against others interviewing artists,” Coroneos explained to me over email. “But since I specialize in criticism and commentary, it generally behooves me to stay once removed from interacting with artists beyond cordial, brief exchanges that may happen in the course of business.” I get the sentiment there.

But interviews are the cornerstone of journalism. Combined with independent fact-checking and cross-referencing, they form the very basis of what we do. As uncomfortable as it may be, our job is to do what we can to get facts first-hand, even if they point towards a warranted lambasting of people we know personally.

As a writer who specializes in criticism — and Coroneos is a very gifted writer — he relies heavily on other journalists to lay the groundwork for him. In his case, he hasn’t seen Midland perform live (though he wants to when the opportunity presents itself). Which, to his point, he doesn’t need to see them live to critique their record. But it’s the least you could do if you’re going to call a band bullshitting elitists who don’t even write their own music.

“Hollywood Elite”

So let’s correct a few talking points used to de-legitimize the band. Like Mark Wystrach’s modeling and acting roles and Cameron Duddy directing music videos. Coroneos says this makes the pair “part of the power elite of the entertainment world.” Who knew underwear models held so much power?

In reality, Wystrach lived in a trailer by the beach. He tended bar way more than he modeled or acted. Those gigs are low paying, hard to come by and hardly “elite.” Directing music videos is just as volatile. And a great way to go gray in the hair before you’re thirty.

All of Duddy’s videography gigs supported his music habit, including his early band with Jess Carson Major Gray. Anybody who really believes that being the son of the second camera operator on 1999’s Mystery Men lands you a job with Bruno Mars is either a great comedian or woefully uninformed.

Duddy explained in an earlier interview, “I couldn’t get any job through my parents. I had rock, folk, Americana bands. I just started doing videos for my friends.” And eventually it grew, Duddy made friends, one gig led to another. Just like every person hustling.

Coroneos’ “Hollywood elite” jab backs artists into a corner and makes them defensive, so they talk about living hand to mouth and borrowing money from their manager to stay afloat. Both of those applied to Duddy, and it’s *embarrassing* the band feels they have to defend themselves so much that they’re revealing personal financial details instead of talking about music. Because it shouldn’t matter.

Yes, Duddy used connections to get a foot in the door. His friend, who manages pop acts and has no experience in country, liked their 2014 Sonic Ranch demos (helmed by Austin mainstay David Garza) so much that he took it upon himself to manage them and find out how to get them in front of people. They met manager Jason Owen and told him, “We’re going to do this one way or another.” Owen liked them, their music and their hustle, so called up Shane McAnally and got them in a room together.

But once you get in front of people, it’s your job as an artist to blow them away. Which they did, because they have years of performing, including in those talked-about tiny bars, where they played the much-loathed three and four-hour sets, testing out original songs and covers.

“Four Shows At Poodies”

Coroneos also references the band’s performances in Texas frequently. He makes it seem as if they only played four shows at Poodie’s before signing a deal with Big Machine.

Even just a cursory search of Midland’s Facebook page reveals an incomplete list of past dates full of Texas mainstays. Mercer Street, The Broken Spoke (the dinner happy hour two or three times before they got the main stage), Scholz, Shiner’s Saloon, The Saxon Pub, Threadgills, The White Horse, Easy Tiger, The Continental Club.

Which makes sense, because Midland had a small booking arrangement with Lisa at boutique agency Moxie Booking, who got them a lot of those weekend warrior shows. They secured that by booking their own shows and promoting themselves. Hell, they’re still listed on the Moxie website alongside acts like Tessy Lou and The Warhorses.

Poodie’s is a part of their narrative because that was their first show together in Texas. A 5:30 p.m. slot on a Tuesday afternoon to a handful of barflies. They eventually worked their way up to an opening gig with Gary P. Nunn and, yes, that residency. Between decades before Texas and a few years after, “They put their time in just like the rest of us,” McAnally says.

“Midland Was Manifested”

Coroneos claims Midland didn’t write their own music, which is a huge accusation. Despite some or all of the band being writers on every track, he uses a quote from McAnally to justify this claim. In the quote, McAnally says it felt like he and co-writer Josh Osborne “manifested” the band as a vehicle for the 1970s-era country tunes they love to write. Coroneos calls McAnally a “puppet master” insinuating that he was responsible for creating Sam Hunt, Old Dominion and now Midland.

“He’s giving me far too much credit,” McAnally laughs. “But you can’t just call it his opinion. That’s not an opinion. That’s just lying.”

When McAnally says they “manifested” their relationship, he means that he and Osborne kept wishing a band would come along that shared their vision. And on the other side, Midland wished somebody wanted to take their sound to new commercial highs. “It’s like both sides dreamed each other up,” he says. “We were inviting our paths to cross.” And he uses the Weird Science reference because Midland seemed like their version of the “perfect girl” that walked into the room, songs, talent and style in hand.

To suggest that every writer on those songs willingly have up more than 50% of their writer’s share to perpetuate a narrative is beyond far-fetched.

Why Does It Matter?

When it comes to being called second in line for the “Country Music Antichrist” (as well as the biggest producer in the world), McAnally laughs. “It hasn’t hurt my feelings,” McAnally says. “And I’m not just saying that. I’m very sensitive and I want people to like what I do. But when I read [these articles] I literally laugh and I know the way I feel about it. I can gauge myself and ask, ‘Is this hurting me?’ It’s not. But this Midland thing could hurt them. Because it’s taken off.”

He’s right. Coroneos’ false narrative is more responsible for never-ending quotes about their origin than anybody. And if you read something he writes without knowing the truth, you should question Midland. And then it becomes all anybody talks about.

Because people are looking to poke holes, especially if they’re already jaded by the industry. They don’t want to believe those three guys write the music they write and dress the way they dress because they want to, and got successful doing it.

“Midland are the same people who walked into the studio two and a half years ago when I met them,” McAnally says. “They had an aspiration to take the songs they were playing in bars and take them to the next level without compromising their music.”

And judging by the overwhelmingly positive reaction to their record, they did just that. And Coroneos, to his credit, wants the band to succeed. “Of all the negative things I’ve said about Midland, I want them to succeed because I want traditional country music in the mainstream to succeed,” he says.

The good news is the negative things he says just aren’t based in reality. So don’t do yourself a disservice and let the misinformed musings of an otherwise passionate writer convince you Midland is anything less than what they are.

#midland #jess carson #mark wystrach #cameron duddy #article

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coalessscence · 5 years

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what trait does your muse find most attractive? @ jacob and lorraine

a meme i don’t remember anymore tbh | ACCEPTING if you can find it lol

Lorraine.

canonically, i think it’s pretty clear that lorraine’s biggest turn on is bravery- it’s one of her biggest quotes, right? “i think a man should be strong, and protect the woman he loves- don’t you?” now, casting 1950s gender roles and relationship ideals aside, it makes sense that lorraine would value that kind of thing. she’s from a very large family and being the oldest by a long shot, probably feels neglected in a lot of ways. she was an only child for a long time and then all of a sudden all these young siblings came right after another and she was asked to take responsibility alone with her parents and put her needs aside. she also likely doesn’t get much attention from her parents- her mom is an alcoholic and her dad is a typical emotionally un-involved man’s man of the 1950s who only wants to talk about jackie gleason and sports. there is also implication that the two of them fight a lot. lorraine wants someone who will be loyal to her, who will dedicate themselves to her, who will show her they think about her and want her- not just tell her, because that doesn’t mean anything. she wants them to show her. that’s what she really means (regardless of how much she knows it) when she says a man should “be strong and protect the woman he loves”. and that’s why what george does for her so entirely sweeps her off of her feet.

Jacob.

an interesting case, because jacob is incredibly unavailable for a relationship most of the time throughout his story. if you glance at my timeline of his life at all (it’s the literal senior thesis length word dump on his about’s ‘history’ tab and i blame no one who hasn’t read it bc god it’s long asdfjgkghg but yeah) you’ll notice i always showed this- even when he found the Source, he was already basically at the end of an average lifespan for his time and had never married or been in a serious courtship at all, and no one who knew him thought that he ever would be at that point. it literally took him finding the Source and thusly the immortality, and then like, a solid several hundred years of leading his people with this power and meeting many many more people than the average human does in a normal amount of life to meet someone he wanted to and did court and then marry (Sofia I). and when he lost her, the grief of the experience haunted him for several hundred more years, until he met Alya- whom he has been with for decades now, but whom he has not and does not plan to marry. so what i’m saying is that jacob is super demisexual/romantic so jot that down, but secondly, there’s nothing i can say about what he likes in a person that is just about “romantic” exploits. i can say what i think he respects in people in general- loyalty, honesty, integrity, and to a certain extent i think he would be the kind of person to be attracted to someone he can try to fix. but i don’t think he has a specific turn on. i think if he wasn’t immortal he’d never have found anyone at all and he would have been at peace with that- happy about it even. and while it is true that some of it may play into his childhood abandonment issues i think a lot of it is just how he is as a person, and who he is as a person.

#pxperhearts #thanks so much for the ask and im so sorry it took me so long im garbage but yea !!!!!!! <3 #⌲ o o c #⌲ a n s w e r e d #⌲ a s k s #⌛ the deathless prophet | MUSE (jacob)#⌛ human; save for a human ending | ABOUT (jacob)#⌛ would you demonstrate your patience while your destiny's spelled out? | HEADCANONS (jacob)#☁ isn't he a dreamboat? | MUSE (lorraine)#☁ i've never seen purple underwear before | ABOUT (lorraine)#☁ come with me and you'll be in a world of pure imagination | HEADCANONS (lorraine)#⌲ i don't wanna feel Q U E U E anymore

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amyddaniels · 4 years

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How to Be Happy at Every Age

Yogis and scholars explain how to stay present and embrace what each decade brings your way.

I turned 40 last May, and I’m apparently about to tumble into years of despair. Because, according to friends and colleagues who hit that milestone a few years before I did (not to mention researchers), my “midlife crisis” is right around the corner. But I don’t buy it. Sure, I need at least an hour of meditation with one sock on, one sock off (no joke) and 1.5 (no more, no less) cups of Sleepytime tea to fall asleep, but that’s hardly what I’d call a crisis.

Jonathan Rauch, award-winning journalist and author of The Happiness Curve: Why Life Gets Better After 50 also rejects the idea of a midlife crisis, a term coined back in 1965 by psychologist Elliott Jaques. He prefers to call it a slump or, on perhaps less optimistic days, a “constant drizzle of disappointment.” Still pretty bleak sounding if you ask me.

Multiple studies of adults in countries around the world show a U shape on the happiness scale as we age. In fact, according to Rauch, “it turns up so frequently and in so many places that many happiness researchers take it for granted.” The U shape suggests that people feel good in their 20s, then get a bit more miserable in their 30s—until everything bottoms out in the fifth decade. In fact, according to a new study by Dartmouth professor David Blanchflower that examined trends in 132 countries, life’s “peak time for misery” happens around age 47. Ouch. Maybe that’s why my friends would rather say they’re celebrating the 20th anniversary of their 20th birthday than proudly own the Big 4-0.