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#its giving wednesday reg
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no chance, no way (i won’t say it)
sharing something a little different for wip wednesday that’s been in my drafts for more than a year. dusting it off and trying to get motivation to finish it. AO3
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Laurent flipped through his emails one more time before turning over for a night of restless sleep. He’d decided to set a meeting with a potential new acquisition and the preparations were set to begin tomorrow. It had been a while since he had actively participated in his family company. He’d spent his most recent years traveling and avoiding New York City except when required to show up to company meetings as stipulated by his trust. Laurent preferred to be alone on his travels and found more and more remote hideaways to spend months at a time. Most recently he had holed up in a chalet set in a basin of mountains in the Alaskan wilderness being catered to by a private chef and catching up on his reading list. He wished he had added Sun Tzu to it as he anxiously awaited his uncle’s reaction to his new project. He was almost certain Reg wouldn’t realize the play for what it was initially. He’d likely write it off as another one of Laurent’s passion projects.
Laurent wasn’t ready to fully challenge his uncle’s receivership of his father’s company. He decided to start with something small, something out of New York. Laurent had heard about luxury vineyard stays in a recent trip to Italy to blow off some steam after his uncle had ripped him a new one in a board meeting. After looking into any American corollaries, Laurent was certain that this was a market that was currently untapped and perfect as a new venture for Veretian. His family company had perfected the ultimate luxury retreat and what better than one situated on a vineyard and its rolling hills. He found the perfect option in a well-renowned family winery with an aging giant at the helm. Not only was the property situated on a beautiful and remote part of the Willamette Valley, the wine wasn’t half bad (or at least that’s what his favorite sommelier told him). He knew it was time to pounce on the property and bringing the patriarch to New York would seal the deal. 
Turning over after setting his phone to charge, Laurent thinks he is ready to take this small step towards taking a more active role in Veretian.  He’s been able to put to rest his father and brother’s memories with the help of truly fantastic scotch and the years since their tragic accident. He knew his uncle wasn’t going to sit back without a fight but Laurent was starting to tire of his uncle’s more and more brazen attempts to cede control of Veretian. Starting to plan his return to Veretian was both exhilarating and terrifying. Laurent had initially been content taking a back seat to his uncle’s machinations but the recent sale of one of Laurent’s father’s favorite properties was truly unforgivable. Laurent had no interest in letting his uncle remake Veretian and was ready to fight to preserve his father and brother’s legacies.
———
Across the country, Damen was settling into dinner after a long day sampling soils to send out for testing. It had been a gruelling day in the hot sun. Damen had all but thrown off his clothes running into his backyard pool to get some relief from the stifling heat. Oregon rarely got this warm but for the past few days it had been stifling and Damen could not wait to feel the coolness of the water. After a few perfunctory laps and stretches, Damen toweled off and proceeded to pull out whatever had been prepared for dinner (ordered and carefully organized by his personal assistant). Damen missed having the free time to cook but wouldn’t give up his new role as winemaker for anything. It was worth the late nights and reheated meals to know they would be able to pull out a perfect vintage from his father’s heritage grapes. As he finished up his meal, he heard the scuffle of his dad’s slippers on the stairs. His dad’s trip across the country was coming up but his back has been acting up more and more recently from the wear and tear that came with years of tilling and planting the vines he had carefully transported from his home country. There was no doubt that his father would need to step back from the business entirely soon. His half brother, Kastor, seemed too interested in the fast life of LA to truly care about the vineyard. He only used it as an accolade he could wear on his shoulder and his ticket into the hottest LA events. Damen much preferred the company of the vines to any of the parties Kastor had dragged him to. Knowing the land and being intimately familiar with the small changes in weather from day to day was crucial to truly taking control of the family vineyard and maintaining the respect of the operation his dad had constructed. Theo grumbled into the kitchen, muttering about his interrupted sleep. Damen greeted him and offered to make tea. His father accepted and sat in one of the pair of armchairs overlooking their property. Damen joined him and looked out at the darkening night and pinpricks of stars in the sky.
Theo always preferred to converse in this particular part of the house. Not only could he see the fruits of his lifetime of labor, it also gave him the opportunity to look out into the distance rather than at his son’s face when the conversation turned serious. Damen instinctively knew his father wanted to talk to him about the upcoming trip to meet a potential new business partner.
“I think we can expect rain,” Damen stated, trying to veer the conversation away from business. Theo laughed.
“I appreciate the opportunity to talk grapes with you, but you must know I need to talk to you about something a bit more pressing.”  Damen scoffed at his dad’s pun, rolling his eyes and settling into another sermon about the benefits of partnership and sharing of burdens.
“And I know you didn’t agree to tea just to make a horrible joke. Tell me about New York.”
“Damen, the offer is quite compelling. Veretian owns some of the most desirable hotels in important travel destinations. I think it is worth our time to consider their offer. We’ve grown well past letting the occasional traveler bunk in the harvest barracks. Besides, the beauty of this place, the work your mother put into cultivating her gardens, these things should be shared. Building this hotel would be a way to show this to the world.”
Theo often talked about “sharing” the vineyard -- usually this translated from dad-speak into “please do something about your continual bachelorhood.”  Damen often fantasized about showing off his hard work to someone he loved. Spending all his time out in the vineyard with his right hand man Nikandros did nothing to further this goal and his dad was starting to tire of Damen’s standard work-related excuses.
“But do we have to work with someone out of New York City? They won’t know anything about our area. Not to mention the annoying time difference.”
As his father let out a groan into his mug, Damen could tell Theo was thinking about the long flight and dreading it.
“Dad, why don’t you let me go. You can’t possibly want to fly in your current condition. And maybe seeing this proposal in person will bring me around to see its brilliance.”
“If you’re certain the grapes won’t wither away in your absence,”  Theo joked at Damen’s expense. “Besides, it’s just the first meeting. Likely lunch in some fancy boardroom and then you’ll be headed back.”
***
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redsoapbox · 2 months
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I, Daniel Blake: Review
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Hayley Squires and Dave Johns
Kevin McGrath reviews I, Daniel Blake, directed by Ken Loach and praised for its engaging story and timely politics. 
The title character of Ken Loach’s “comeback” film is a gentle widower, probably aged somewhere in his late fifties, recuperating slowly from a massive heart attack and all the while itching to get back to plying his trade as a carpenter. On the surface, one ordinary Joe’s fate at the hands of an unscrupulous Department of Work and Pensions (DWP) doesn’t seem particularly fertile ground for box-office success in 2016, especially when up against blockbusters like Dr Strange and Bridget Jones’s Baby in the battle to put bums on multiplex seats. Loach, however, the great social-realist director of our age, has spent half a century giving a voice to people otherwise ignored by mainstream cinema and television drama departments and it’s the very fact that the tragedy of Daniel Blake, a casualty of war in the life and death struggle between Britain’s rich and Britain’s poor, could just as easily befall any one of us that will ensure this Palme d’Or-winning film finds a receptive audience.
Loach’s career as a radical filmmaker began after he enrolled in a director’s course at the BBC in 1963. An apolitical figure at the time (he suspected his late father may have voted Tory), he quickly absorbed the left-wing politics of producer Tony Garnett and story-editor Roger Smith when they collaborated together on the groundbreaking BBC series “The Wednesday Play”. Loach was deeply influenced, too, by the social realism of Joan Littlewood’s Theatre Workshop and the plays of John Osborne and the other Angry Young Men being staged at the Royal Court Theatre. The sixties Cultural Revolution was gathering pace and Loach suddenly found himself with an opportunity to make films about the death penalty (Three Clear Sunday’s) and the post-war generation’s new-found sexual freedoms (Up the Junction) all for a ready-made audience, Mary Whitehouse’s National Viewers’ and Listeners’ Association not-withstanding!
The astonishing success of “The Wednesday Play” culminated with Loach’s tour de force, Cathy Come Home (1966). Written by Jeremy Sandford, who based the script on his own radio documentary Homeless Families, the play told the story of a young couple Cathy and Reg (Carol White and Ray Brooks), and their harrowing descent into homelessness. The coruscating final scene, in which the couple’s small children are forcibly taken into council care, caused a wave of genuine anger to sweep across the land.
In fact, such was the docudrama’s impact on its twelve million viewers (a quarter of the nation’s population at the time), that it was repeated just a fortnight later with a follow-up discussion taking place on ITV as well as the BBC straight after transmission. Following its broadcast many councils abandoned their policy of separating men from their wives and children and the homeless charity Shelter was founded just 15 days afterward, in recognition that something had to be done in a country where 4,000 children a year were being placed in care because their parents had become homeless. Loach had wanted to ‘draw blood’ and the unprecedented response to the play earned Cathy Come Home its place in the history books.
Fifty years later, Loach has drawn blood again with I, Daniel Blake, a film that cries out in undisguised anguish against the Tory government’s routine punishment of the poor, the sick and the disabled. The film begins with Daniel (under)played to perfection by stand up comedian Dave Johns (continuing Loach’s career long preference for using club comedians in dramatic roles on the basis that ‘they weren’t acting- they were being’) finding out that he has been deemed fit for work by ATOS, a private company contracted by the DWP to carry out ‘work capability assessments’. (Between 2010 and 2011, 10,600 people died in this country while going through the assessment process in which administrators acting as ‘healthcare professionals’ use a point scoring system to override the expert opinions of GPs and Surgeons as to whether a ‘client’ is fit for work).
While attending a DWP meeting, Daniel witnesses single mother Katie (in a beautifully judged performance that should launch a stellar career for Hayley Squires) being ‘sanctioned’ for arriving late for an appointment with her benefit officer. The loss of her income leaves her and her two small children dependent on charity to survive and is the cue for a scene that unfolds in a food bank that’s as agonising to watch as the famous scene that concludes Cathy Come Home. The film plays out by following the fortunes of Dan and Katie, contrasting the kindness and humanity that they show each other, with the institutional barbarity of the DWP as it drives some of the most vulnerable people in society to death’s door.
As wonderful as I, Daniel Blake is, it’s not without its flaws. Loach sensibly lets the straight forward story speak for itself, resolving not to get himself sidetracked in the tangled web of factional socialist politics (a temptation not altogether easy to resist, no doubt, for a former member of the Workers’ Revolutionary Party), so there are no stump speeches, soapbox lectures or crash courses on Marxism for beginners, and aside from one minor character’s semi-coherent rant against Iain Duncan-Smith and the Tories, the subject of politics doesn’t really come up at all in this, the most “political” of films.
While this “show not tell” approach may be pitched correctly in storytelling terms, there might have been a little more political context to illuminate the darkness of Dan and Katie’s lives; a character to mouth off against austerity, the bankers or our rabidly right-wing government (all of which surely drove Loach to come out of unofficial retirement to make the film), while supping a pint in their local, or waiting for their food parcel to be cobbled together. In twenty years’ time it will be possible for a new generation to watch this film without any real sense of which party was in power and quite why they persisted, in the face of opposition from all manner of charities and pressure groups, with the unspeakable cruelty of the Bedroom Tax and cuts to the Independent Living Fund. All the more surprising, perhaps, given that Loach himself has been critical of Cathy Come Home for not being political enough, for not ‘tackling the ownership of the land, the building industry and the financing behind it. Otherwise you’re not really challenging anything.’
When the great socialist playwright J.B Priestly broadcast, during the darkest days of Britain’s fight against fascism, (his Postscript programme was being listened to by a third of Britain’s adult population at its peak), that the ‘common folk of this island rose to meet the challenge and not only saved what we had that is good but began to dream of something better’, declaring the Second World War ‘a people’s war’ to ‘bring into existence an order of society in which nobody will have far too many rooms in a house and nobody will have far too few’, Churchill forced the BBC to take him off the air despite knowing the effect it would have on the morale of a people standing alone against the might of Hitler.
Ken Loach continues to argue for that socialist society and that is the story that lies just beneath the surface of I, Daniel Blake. The great social reforms of Attlee’s post-war government, from The Welfare State to The National Health Service, are being undone at the behest of the Murdoch Press and the foul gang of neo-liberal economists that infected the centre/right political parties of Britain during the reign of Margaret Thatcher and which were then enshrined in Tony Blair’s vision of New Labour. It’s a scandalous ambition, made easier by the complicity of the mainstream media in general and state broadcasters in particular (hang your heads in shame all those commissioning editors at the BBC and Channel 4 who fed the nation a constant diet of ‘poverty porn’ in place of programmes honestly examining welfare provision in time of economic collapse). Ken Loach is still fighting Priestley’s good fight and I, Daniel Blake is a masterful clarion call for us to come to the rescue of an endangered Welfare State, and in so doing, to restore to each and every one of us a sense of common decency.
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Any chance to watch the footie "match" from Ken Loach's Kes, I'm going to take it. One of the funniest scenes in the history of film.
This review first appeared in Wales Arts Review in November 2016.
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the-edge-of-great · 3 years
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this is for @jatpdaily‘s JATP Secret Santa 2020!! my giftee is @agentsofoakenshiield, and i present to you: a modern royalty AU in two parts (bc it kinda got long lol) hope you enjoy!! :)
summary:
Their countries could not have created a worse pair than Julie Molina, princess of Seneca, and Alexander Mercer, prince of Koray. Romantically, of course. Really, they're the best of friends, but there’s just some minor problems: Alex is gay, and Julie’s in love with someone else.
There's an event on Friday, Julie's last before she turns eighteen. Before everything changes—her bond with Alex, her relationship with Luke, her friend group altogether. She and Alex need to figure out a way to change their countries' agreement with their limited power.
With Luke and Reggie, obligated to attend the party by law—and moral support, of course—and Professional Party Crashers Flynn and Willie by their sides, they might just pull it off.
WEDNESDAY
JULIE
A greenhouse sits at the edge of the palace, shrouded in a mess of greenery and blooming wildflowers. It’s not far at all from the castle—actually, they can see the watchtowers from its own peak—but the barrier of trees looming over the forgotten building is a portal into another world, one of flourishing life beyond what they’re taught within the castle walls. The air is softer on the other side. Everything is quieter—she feels she can speak and actually be heard. When the gravel crunching beneath their shoes silences to soft thuds across the grass, a grin breaks free, and she runs.
Her shoes are off in seconds, kicked to the side as quick as she can. She misses the earth beneath her feet, soft blades of grass tickling between her toes. She’s been here enough to know where to step and what to hop over—besides, the glass shards shimmer in the sunlight anyway. Behind her is a yell, then a laugh, then they’re chasing after her, boots stomping in her haste, trying to reach the greenhouse first.
Reggie and Flynn rush past on either side, and once they reunite in front, Flynn leaps onto Reggie’s back. Reggie shouts, stumbling and regaining his balance all in two steps. Flynn leans forward, an arm stretched out, desperately trying to brush the edge of the door to claim victory.
Julie never sees who actually makes it because arms hook around her waist, hugging her close to someone who, quite literally, sweeps her off her feet. She leans into him, head resting on his shoulder as she laughs out loud. He spins her once before putting her down, chuckling in her ear, leaving a trail of kisses across her cheek. Once she’s on her feet, she hugs him. He’s a difficult person to wrap her arms around with the armor and all, but she makes it work—especially because in an hour, she’s going to have every layer stripped away until it’s just him: regular Luke. Her Luke.
The last of their group—the reason they’ve even reunited in the first place—are slow to arrive, valuing their time in every step, every lingering gaze and smile. The corners of Julie’s mouth curl for them: Willie is always his happiest when he’s with Alex. Even more so when they can come out here, away from the world and Alex’s impending reality inching closer each day. He and Julie have agreed: they won’t talk about it unless their friends bring it up first. And even then, maybe not.
Julie takes Luke’s hand in hers and tugs him inside. It’s kind of funny how willingly he follows her, he and Reggie immediately abandoning their jobs for some friends and a building. But they’re leaving Alex with Willie, and that’s possibly the safest place in the world.
The greenhouse doesn’t have a known story, just that it’s theirs and theirs alone. It’s overgrown with thorns they admire from afar and vines curling around the spiral staircase in the center of the room. There are steps missing in places and others threatening to fall away with one wrong move. Luke and Reggie, the literal guards of their group, always watch with bated breath and tense shoulders, swearing quietly when the staircase creaks and groans under their weight. Julie and Flynn think the danger makes it more exciting.
Flynn’s already on it, sitting halfway up with her legs dangling over the side. Reggie’s beneath her, kicking away broken glass as he tries to catch a frog leaping across the floor. Julie brushes dirt off of a counter before hopping on it, and as soon as she’s seated, Luke is there, pulling her into that kiss she’s been craving since they arrived.
“Are you guys going to the dance on Friday?” Flynn asks Reggie, curling a hand around the rail as she leans back to look down at him.
“Probably.” Reggie pauses near the back wall, rocking on his heels, eyeing the brown frog resting innocently on a pile of leaves. “If we’re invited.”
“Why wouldn’t we be invited?” Luke asks, climbing on the table next to Julie. “Seneca’s going.”
Julie chuckles. “Of course we’re going. Everyone loves Seneca.”
He smirks. “Yeah,” he says, already going in for another kiss, “who can blame them?”
“Are you guys talking about the event on Friday?” Alex asks, shutting the door behind Willie. “We’re going.”
Reggie cheers. Luke corrects him quickly, “We’re going to be working, Reg.” He throws a look at Alex. “No fun for us.”
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one who signed up to be palace guards.”
“I don’t remember signing up either?” Reggie says. “I think we just hung out with you so much that they gave us swords eventually.” He lunges for the frog, arms outstretched, hands ready to grab, and then it leaps just out of reach. He catches himself on the wall, muttering a “Damn it” under his breath.
Alex laughs. Luke shakes his head. “That’s not how it happened,” he mumbles, sharing an amused look with Alex.
“Sounds kind of legit for you three,” Julie teases.
“I think it’d sound more believable if they took the swords themselves,” Alex argues.
Julei grins. “Maybe we should send that to the tabloids. Get them talking about something else.”
Alex breathes a laugh, giving her a look as he passes, transferring silent messages that only she could understand. Her smile falters only a little. They don’t talk about it.
“So, back to the dance,” Flynn says, kicking her feet.
“Is, um…” Reggie leans against the staircase, gaze jumping between his friends. “Is something going to happen at this one?”
Alex pauses. Julie frowns. “What do you mean?” she asks.
Flynn’s shoulders slump. “This is your last event before you turn eighteen, Jules.”
Oh right, Eighteen is a big deal in their world. Eighteen means permission granted to thrust her headfirst into the political world of the monarchy. Eighteen means the beginning of preparations for Twenty-One, when she’ll become queen. And, worst of all: Eighteen means marriage.
That Look passes between Alex and Julie again. Their smiles are gone; they have to talk about it.
“I don’t know of anything, but…” Alex wrings his hands. “Maybe.” “This is so unfair,” Flynn complains. “It’s the twenty-first century! Why are arranged marriages still a thing?”
“Because monarchies are still a thing, I guess,” Julie mutters.
Their countries could not have created a worse pair than Julie Molina, princess of Seneca, and Alexander Mercer, prince of Koray. Their relationship is strong—they really, truly care for each other a lot—but there’s just some minor problems: Alex is gay, and Julie’s in love with someone else. They’ve known about the arrangement since they were children of course, and their friends just a few years after, but their predicament has never felt as set in stone as this day and the next, the true Final Countdown.
“I don’t see why the countries have to be bound by marriage,” Luke says. “I mean, this—” He gestures around the group— “what we have right here, is stronger on its own than any arranged commitment between Seneca and Koray could be.”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to convince our parents of,” Julie says. “It’s more official than an agreement from when we were babies, though. It’s a whole peace treaty.”
Willie frowns. “Then make a new peace treaty.”
“We totally would…” Alex agrees. “If either of us had any actual power yet.”
“Can’t you just fake it until you’re crowned, and then change the rules?” Flynn asks.
Alex shakes his head. “We don’t know what effect breaking that kind of agreement would have on our countries.”
“Besides,” Julie adds softly, reaching for Luke’s hand, “faking it feels wrong. I don’t know if I could do it.”
“But hey, we still have a few days until anything happens,” Alex reminds. “We’ll figure something out. For now, can we just enjoy this time together?”
Although the air is stiffer now than before, their afternoon is still well spent in good spirits. They stay out there all day, only returning to the palace when the sun is setting over the horizon. Their stomachs are growling monsters by then. Somewhere along the way to the castle, they get separated. Purposely, and not very far apart—because if Alex’s parents catch him arriving without Luke and Reggie, there will surely be hell to pay—but enough for Luke to pull her around a corner and kiss her in the privacy of bushery and an apple tree.
“I wish you didn’t have to go already,” she whines, raking a hand through his hair.
“Pretty sure they’re not going to send us away without food.” He chuckles. “We’re the guests, remember? Well, Alex is.”
She smacks his chest. “You are too, dummy.”
“Not as important as the prince and princess.” Luke grins, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m kidding. Kind of. I’d much rather be a guard than a royal anyway. The only thing that sucks is we won’t be able to share a dance on Friday.”
Julie frowns. “Wait, but we’ve danced together at other parties?”
“Yeah, but from what I hear, this is going to be much bigger than usual. There are gonna be nobles from other countries, so security has to  be tighter.”
“Don’t you have to stay with Alex, though?”
“We have to have eyes on him, but we aren’t allowed to mingle with the important people unless it’s an emergency.” Julie makes a noise of protest, which makes him laugh and dip his head, kissing her softly again. “Don’t worry, I’ll make damn sure we see each other before the night’s over. Or, maybe even after…”
She chuckles. “You’re really looking for a death wish, huh?”
“You know I’d give my life for you, Julie Molina.”
“That’s so cheesy.”
Luke grins. “Only the best for you, babe.”
Somewhere nearby, they hear a side door creak open. A voice rings through the air. It’s the royal seamstress, Flynn’s mother, “Flynn, where are the others? Lunch has been ready for fifteen minutes.”
“They’re on their way!” Flynn replies. “It’s a nice day; I think they just wanted to take the long way.”
Bless Flynn’s mother; she knows what’s really going on with Julie and Alex—and likely suspects where their group has scattered off to—and she never says a word. Although she’s already regarded highly in the kingdom for her talent in design, when Julie is queen, she’s going to make sure Flynn and her family receive the best treatment possible. Maybe master bedrooms on the top floor of the castle, with balcony views of the countryside.
Before they depart, Luke leaves her with a final passionate kiss. It’s the kind that pins her to the tree truck, hand pressed into her back, fingers in each other’s hair, and when they pull away, they’re breathless, his forehead resting against hers, bodies as close as possible, savoring the touch because it’s going to be a long time before this can happen again.
“Hey,” Luke whispers, pulling away enough to find her eyes. “No matter what happens, I love you, okay?” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“We’re going to figure it out,” Julie promises. “Alex and I. We’re going to figure something out.”
Luke smiles gently, halfheartedly, like he doesn’t really believe her. That’s fair; she doesn’t know if she believes it, either.
“We’d better get back.”
When he turns to leave, she catches his arm, pulling him back. With a smile—a real one that stretches her cheeks and brightens her eyes—she tells him, “I love you, too.”
Grinning, Luke pulls her along. He curls an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
When they round the corner of the shrubbery and reunite with their friends in front of the side door, they’re apart. All of them, even Willie and Alex, who are emerging from the other side of the path. They share looks with each other then fall into formation: Alex and Julie lead into the castle, Luke and Reggie follow five steps behind, and Willie and Flynn carry the end. The last two split away from the group as soon as they cross the threshold. The others don’t even look back.
Like diving headfirst into ice water, they’re back in the real world. The greenhouse is miles away.
----
THURSDAY
LUKE
The thick, century old book slamming against a chipped wooden dining table echoes in the empty armory. A cloud of dust explodes from beneath and hits Luke and Reggie square in the face. Reggie sneezes. Luke sputters, waving a hand to clear it away in vain. They should be used to it by now—this isn’t the first time they’ve been given the Book Punishment.
“You’d think General Wilson would be more creative by now,” Reggie says, flipping open the book.
“So, you’d rather be doing four hours of PT instead?” Luke asks dryly. He yawns into his hand. They overslept—again. It doesn’t happen regularly, but enough that they know this Book of Laws well enough to pass a test (which they’ll have to do that evening, and if they fail, they will get four hours of physical training).
“Hell no. I’m just saying, where’s the flavor, huh? He’s been a war general for, like, ever. Why doesn’t he make us…” Reggie waves his hand aimlessly. “Survive in the forest for two days, like that one time before we officially became guards. Remember? We just chilled by the lake and ate those berries.” He sighs. “I miss that sometimes.” “Well, maybe we can go on a camping trip after we figure out what’s gonna happen with Alex and Julie.”
Reggie perks up at the idea; he’s blind to the eye roll Luke adds at the end of his statement.
“Wonder if there’s a chapter in here about changing the rules when you’re not actually in charge,” Luke mutters, chin in his hand as he flips through the pages.
“We could always overthrow the monarchy.”
“Overthrowing the monarchy means overthrowing Alex.”
“No way. He’d be on our side.”
Luke pauses on a page describing something along the lines of rules altered by a third party. “Reggie.”
“I mean, he’d have to take out his parents somehow,” Reggie continues thoughtfully. “Which probably wouldn’t be an issue. It’s Lainey we’d have to worry about.”
“Reggie.” Luke smacks his arm. “Look!” He points to the text, looking over with an eager grin. “Think we just cracked the monarchy, dude.”
While Luke gathers the book in his arms and heads for the door, Reggie calls, “You know Wilson’s gonna kill us if he finds out we skipped out.”
“A military general versus the prince of a whole country.” Luke laughs over his shoulder. “You do the math.”
Reggie shifts his weight from one foot to another, chewing on his lip. Then, he breaks into a jog. “Wait up,” he calls. “You know I’m bad at math!”
~**~**~**~
The issue with Alex’s guards being more like brothers to him—at least according to the king and queen—is that they often act like guests in the castle instead of trained personnel.
Neither knock before barging into the conference room. Luke has tunnel vision, clutching the book tight to his side, with newfound hope in his heart. Alex needs to see what they found; nothing else matters in that moment.
Nothing except… a heated conversation between Alex and his parents that they absolutely just interrupted. Quickly, Luke hides the book behind his back. He and Reggie come to an abrupt halt just inside the doorway, heels pressed together, bodies stiff with nerves. There are rules to be followed when it comes to approaching royals—they know them well, but when it’s just them and Alex, it’s easy to forget the divide.
“You two better have a damn good reason for interrupting us,” the king growls, looking over sharply.
Luke avoids his cold glare—he doesn’t like people beneath him making eye contact. “We—” Luke begins and ends immediately, realizing he doesn’t know what to say without sounding suspicious. Or like he’s planning treason.
“Does it matter?” Alex demands, moving between them. “The conversation was pretty much over anyways, wasn’t it?”
The king takes a dangerous step forward; only Alex shuffles back. Luke glances at Reggie. His fingers twitch at his sides. This is the one thing that truly irks them both about their job: they’ve sworn to protect the prince from any threats, but the king himself? They’re powerless.
“You are still a prince,” the king reminds in a low, careful tone. “You’re not in any position to begin calling shots.”
Alex flinches under the heavy clap on his shoulder as his father exits the room, with the queen following close behind. Nobody moves until the door clicks shut, and they’re engulfed in silence.
“Alex?” Luke calls.
Hesitantly, Alex turns to them. There’s a red tint to his face and a glossy layer over his eyes that goes unmentioned. He runs a hand through his hair, short breaths racking his body.
“I was just, um…” Alex squeezes his eyes shut. “We were talking about the marriage agreement again.”
Luke nods, handing the book over to Reggie. “Hey, why don’t you take a seat?” Fingers curling under Alex’s arm, Luke guides him to an upholstered bench by the window.
“I’m fine,” Alex declares quietly as he sits down.
“Okay.” Luke nods Reggie over. “Then, listen to this: I think we found a loophole around the law. According to this, the Next In Line himself can create or alter a law as long as a member of the royal family and the High Priest bears witness.”
“But it’s a peace treaty, not a law. Seneca’s leader has to have a hand in it as well.”
“Maybe there’s a way for Julie to get around it, too,” Reggie suggests hopefully. “We can figure it out next time we’re together, but dude! We have a chance here!”
Alex pulls at his sleeves. “I don’t know, guys. You know my parents; they won’t be convinced that easily.”
“Doesn’t matter if they’re convinced.” Luke chuckles. “Even they can’t argue with the High Priest.”
“You think the High Priest would go for it?”
Reggie shrugs. “Worth a shot, man.”
Sighing deeply, Alex agrees halfheartedly, “I guess so.”
“Hey, what’s up with you?” Luke asks, nudging his arm. “You okay?”
Their relationship is odd because a guard would never be able to be so personal and informal with a royal. But it’s Luke and Alex; they’ve always been an exception, ever since they were kids when Alex invited him, a commoner he met playing near the front gates, to a sleepover in the cinema room. Ever since, they’ve been inseparable.
“I’m just a little freaked about everything, that’s all. Mom and Dad aren’t helping, either. They’ve been planning this wedding since I was five years old, which is weird.” He sniffs, looking to the side and rubbing a hand across his face. “Before I had a chance to even try liking guys or girls, they’d already made the decision for me.” Luke and Reggie share a concerned look. Alex shakes his head, laughing humorlessly as he rises to his feet. “Gladys wouldn’t approve. You know what she says, ‘There’s no room for emotions in this castle.’”
“Gladys isn’t here,” Reggie reminds softly, but firm.
“Yeah,” Luke agrees. “It’s just us.” They don’t dislike Gladys; for a noble, she’s kinder than most. For an advisor, she’s damn good at her job. One of her best attributes—according to the king, the queen, and General Wilson—is her ability to ‘shut off’ her emotions when needed. Luke doesn’t get it; how can shutting off your emotions really solve anything?
The corner of Alex’s mouth twitches into a half smile that doesn’t last more than five seconds. “Yeah, thanks guys. Um, I’ll think about what you said, but I don’t think I can talk to Julie about it before tomorrow night.”
A door swings open, silent as a mouse, but the soft creaks of the floorboards are enough to alert their ears. General Wilson steps inside; Luke and Reggie exchange nervous glances.
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” General Wilson greets. His eyes drift over Alex’s shoulder for just a moment, but a single look freezes Luke to his core.
Inwardly, he groans. They’re totally spending the rest of the day flirting with death on the training grounds.
“General Wilson,” Alex responds, lifting his chin. “Can I help you?”
“Apologies, I was just looking for those two—” He swallows thickly, like whatever he’s trying to say is difficult— “star pupils. They’re missing important training.”
Alex looks over his shoulder at them; Luke and Reggie give him a toothless, sheepish smile in return. To Wilson, Alex says, “Sorry, I need them right now.”
Luke chews on his lip to keep from smirking. He loves when Alex uses his authority over the general.
“But—“ Wilson takes a breath, hooking his hands behind his back. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, tomorrow night is an important event that these two, among the rest of the guard, need to prepare for.”
“Why?” Alex frowns. “It’s just another social gathering.”
“There will be leaders from countries we’ve not interacted with face to face in years.”
“Any in particular we should be suspicious of?”
“Well no, but—“
“Then I don’t see an urgency in needing them right now.” General Wilson opens and closes his mouth. “Shut the door on your way out,” Alex adds, waving him off.
Giving Luke and Reggie a final, heated glare, he turns and marches out of the room.
Alex waits for the door to shut to sigh loudly. “Thank God,” he says, turning to his friends. “That man is terrifying.”
“He thinks the complete opposite of you,” Luke admits, grinning. “Which makes it even funnier.” Next to him, Reggie gives Alex a high five.
Their laughter is a weight lifted. Luke just hopes it’s still around after tomorrow night.
----
Part Two
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angelicspaceprince · 4 years
Text
Youtuber!Beetlejuice Headcanons
Ok so Youtuber/Gamer!Beetlejuice has hit my tumblr with a force, so I’m going to write my own set for you here. Also, your channel has a mishmash of subject ideas because I’m trying to cater to everyone. It looks super unrealistic but hey its fantasy bby!
This also didn’t end the way I wanted it to and it stops kinda abruptly, its half past 5 in the morning. I need a nap.
His channel is a MESS
There is no consistency, except for the fact that he posts every day
But every day, no one knows what they’re gonna get
And he does everything
Beej may promise that its going to be a conspiracy theory video, but then he posts a video of him eating tide pods straight from the bag with a shit eating grin on his face with the caption ‘DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME – I’M A DEAD GUY THESE WON’T HURT ME’ plastered all over the screen because he genuinely cares for his viewers
Lydia helps him with editing, Adam and Barbra help set up his recording space which is just a large corner in the attic, Delia helps him plan ideas and Charles just leaves him to it
If he ever posts an ASMR video, do not open it
It’s just a video of him screaming into the microphone and making loud noises with him cackling after each one
Cooking videos usually end with him just straight up eating stuff no one should eat
Gaming videos go between him playing horror and laughing his ass off at how bad they are to him playing Animal Crossings and just being so happy that these people are kind to him and want to spend time with him
Live streams a LOT
It annoys his mods a little bit because he doesn’t have a schedule, and he only gives them a 30 second warning so if they see it, they have to quickly jump on over to mod the comment section
People just love the chaotic energy he radiates and if you mention a video idea, he will most definitely do it by the end of the month because he just wants to try  e v e r y t h i n g
Lydia helps create merch for him so he can sell stuff. Most of the money goes to Lydia or the others in the house for helping him out, although he does save up to get better quality equipment to replace the stuff, he totally didn’t steal
If people mention about how depressed they are or if they feel disgusting but he makes them feel better, or even joked about suicide, in the live stream everything stops and he just looks down the camera and assures them that they are beautiful and deserve to live and suicide is never the way to deal with your problems, trust him, he knows
Everything just goes all serious until he has said his piece, no one is commenting and then he goes back to his happy self and is all like ‘don’t worry babes, I got ya back!’ and continues on chatting about nonsense for a while
He runs constant streams for charities that focus on mental health, it’s his one platform
He rarely accepts sponsors for his videos, he does have a patreon though
He has only accepted 3 sponsors in his time on Youtube, all of them were surrounding suicide and self-harm prevention
Offers really shitty advice but he has the spirit and means well
His followers affectionately call themselves ‘Juicey’s Babes’ which he finds hysterical
Anyone who’s been on a call with him can confirm that he is just as chaotic in real life as he is on his channel, it is not an act
But he genuinely cares and remembers everything about his followers, if one pops up on the stream chat, he will ask about their days and if the date went well with the guy from work etc.
Does do educational videos when he finds out from Lydia that sex ed in the US is pretty piss poor and that’s unacceptable! Teaches you how to put on condoms and what a clit is
Is constantly demonetised from Youtube but doesn’t give a shit
It wasn’t until someone suggested that he do a reaction video for one of your vids that he falls in love with your channel for the first time
It, too, is a mish mash of things but your schedule is a lot more constant, posting 5 days a week as a full time professional youtuber. It was exhausting but you love the work
Video game streaming or singing a cover of a song on alternate Mondays, Conspiracy videos or exploring cold cases and the supernatural on alternate Tuesdays, Cooking videos on Wednesday, general chat and educational videos on Thursday, Story Time, Crafts and Challenges on Friday with a live stream every third Saturday just talking smack
He falls in love with your channel so quick, and during the time he’s not filming or editing or whatever, he’s watching your videos
He joins your discord and talks there often
Lydia reaches out to you to ask if you’d do a collab with Beetlejuice and you agree, loving him on your discord chat and also the few videos you’ve seen
You agree to do a live reaction to the most recent Buzzfeed Unsolved video that was coming out that Saturday for your live stream, and that for his next gaming video you’d join in and play Animal Crossing with him
Beetlejuice is SO nervous when it comes to that Saturday, he really wants to impress you and not embarrass himself
It goes so well, people are commenting about what a good duo the two of you make as you crack jokes with one another, and even after the streaming finishes, you end up video chatting on your private discord for the rest of the afternoon
The gaming stream goes even better, having known each other a little better now and having found your rhythm which lead to a better stream
Suddenly, the two of you were doing collabs at least once a month, and Beetlejuice could feel himself falling hard for you
The two of you spoke nearly every day on Discord, mostly doing it via video or voice chat so you didn’t waste time typing
If either of you ended up on each other’s livestreams on Twitch or Youtube, everyone is a flurry because you end up joking with each other through the comments and its always fun to watch the two of you banter
Definitely have a few people ‘ship’ you and Beetlejuice is confused because what’s a ship?
Eventually, you get offered to go to Vidcon and when you told Beetlejuice, he revealed he did too but he wasn’t sure if he was gonna go
You say that’s a shame because you were really looking forward to officially meeting him and that Changed His Mind Quick Smart
There was so much prep that was going into Vidcon, you both agreed to do your stream there and just do bits of behind the scenes filming together
You both knew what you looked like and both knew you got along, but both of you were nervous the closer the day arrived
End up doing a panel together and that’s when you first meet, mostly because you were running super late and couldn’t meet before hand
Beetlejuice is literally buzzing with excitement and when you walk on stage, apologising for running late, he just beams and tackles you into a hug
He’s just so excited to finally meet you in person
(A video of him attacking you goes up on youtube and is instantly gif’ed and becomes a meme because everyone loves how excited he was to finally meet you and touch you)
You end up spending more time together than initially planned, but neither of you minded
The first video when you get back is filmed at your place and is titled ‘How I managed to snag a hottie for a girlfriend’, with the icon being Beetlejuice pointing at you with an excited look on your face, you rolling your eyes with your head in your hands
Everyone’s OTP
You keep your individual channels but definitely start doing more collabs on the reg whilst maintaining that perfect life/work balance, not everything needs to go on Youtube
You end up moving to be closer to him, you meet the family and Beetlejuice is just so so happy
And so are you
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lastsonlost · 4 years
Text
I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS SHIT FOREVER!
In 2011, the US Department of Education issued a mandate to post-secondary educational institutions, regarding their handling of allegations of sexual misconduct among students. The department’s guidelines required these institutions to create their own pseudo-justice system wherein allegations would be investigated, and hearings held. The standards laid out by the department were a naked attack on students’ right to due process, dictating broad definitions for types of misconduct that stretched far beyond the legal definitions the criminal justice system uses, and laying out a systematic denial of the due process rights of accused students. In the legal chaos created by the concept of an accuser’s automatic victim status and “right to be believed,” many students, mostly young men, have seen their academic careers interrupted or even ended by mere allegations from fellow students.
Institutions all over the United States had responded to the 2011 “dear colleague” letter with changes to policy and procedures that resulted in disciplinary actions over which hundreds of students sued their universities. TitleIXforall.com is currently tracking 627 of these lawsuits. The site contains a database of these lawsuits, along with a list of helpful organizations or individuals for students experiencing discrimination, and a list of distinguished due process attorneys.
There have been rulings in federal court indicating that the dear colleague standards and the policies they inspired created violations of students’ constitutionally protected civil rights. In one ruling that dramatically contradicted the dear colleague guidelines, the 6th circuit held that in conducting Title IX investigations, colleges and universities are required to provide parties an opportunity to cross-examine witnesses in the presence of a neutral fact-finder in cases hinging on the credibility of such witnesses. In another, the court found that an accused student was deprived of due process rights when university administrators suspended him without first holding an official hearing. If anything, these rulings have made it clear that the dear colleague standards cannot remain in place as an unaltered policy, because they contain unconstitutional requirements.
Trump administration Education Secretary Betsy DeVos, upon accepting her appointment to the office, vowed reform. In late 2018, extending into January 2019, her office accepted commentary from citizens regarding the topic. Last year she released a set of proposed changes intended to restore due process and protect students’ freedom of speech, sending feminists into a panic as her new, updated guidelines were set to roll back or dramatically alter several points of the 2011 dear colleague guidance. Completely ignoring the fact that the 2011 rules were a huge departure from the real court system’s response to criminal allegations, the National Organization for Women accused DeVos of wanting to “turn the government’s response to assault, harassment and rape upside down,” and openly lamented the impending loss of “victims’ rights.”
Unphased by feminist melodrama, on Wednesday, May 6, Secretary DeVos’s office formally announced the new rules.
Robby Suave, writing for Reason.com, stated, “The new rules are similar to what the Department of Education proposed in November 2018. Most notably, the government has abolished the single-investigator model, which previously permitted a sole university official to investigate an accusation of misconduct, decide which evidence to consider, and produce a report recommending an outcome. Under the new rules, the final decision maker must be a different person than the investigator, and a finding of responsibility can only be rendered after a hearing in which a representative for the accused is able to pose questions to the accuser—i.e., cross-examination. Importantly, the new rules narrow the scope of actionable sexual harassment to exclude conduct that ought to be protected under the First Amendment. Obama-era guidance had defined sexual harassment as "any unwelcome conduct of a sexual nature." The new rules keep this definition but add that the conduct must be offensive to a reasonable person, severe, and pervasive. In practice, this should mean that schools will no longer initiate Title IX investigations that impugn free speech.
The new rules will also end the pernicious practice of universities initiating Title IX investigations in cases where the alleged victims are not interested in this course of action.”
On May 7, the National Organization for Women published a press release calling the new guidelines an all-out attack on the safety of women and girls. Their article begins with the theatrical line “We don’t see you.  We don’t hear you. We don’t believe you.” That’s the message Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos is sending with the sweeping new changes to Title IX…” and only gets worse from there, lamenting that the Devos guidelines are set in law rather than just tied by policy to schools’ funding, labeling long-standing due process standards “new rights,” and calling the changes “draconian.” Democrat presidential candidate Joe Biden disavowed the new guidelines, claiming in a statement quoted by Politico that the new rules “shame and silence survivors,” and give colleges “a green light to ignore sexual violence and strip survivors of their rights.” He has vowed to “put a quick end” to these changes if elected. The article goes on to quote Biden, who has recently vehemently denied a sexual assault allegation against himself by former aide Tara Reade, as stating that “Survivors deserve to be treated with dignity and respect, and when they step forward they should be heard, not silenced.”
While Biden thinks it is an attack on survivors for universities to carefully scrutinize allegations against their students, regarding his own case, he stated that accusers’ stories “should be subject to appropriate inquiry and scrutiny," and that when reporting on this particular allegation, “Responsible news organizations should examine and evaluate the full and growing record of inconsistencies in her story," a benefit he would not get from campus investigators if he were a student facing the same allegation from a fellow student under Obama-era guidelines.
The feminist response to this has been quite interesting. There doesn’t seem to be anywhere near the same degree of outrage leveled at presidential candidate Biden over this allegation as there was leveled at Donald Trump over his flippant remark about the variability of women’s sensibilities regarding men’s sexual pursuit depending on the subject’s wealth and popularity. In fact, some feminists have even followed up statements that they believe Biden’s accuser, which under today’s standards would mean they view Biden as a confirmed rapist - with declarations that they support his candidacy anyway. But they still oppose DeVos’s Title IX reforms because screw men and their due process rights if they can’t wheel and deal federal funding for feminist initiatives in return for feminists’ political support.
Biden’s history of garnering feminist support by opposing the due process rights of other men accused of sexual misconduct is longstanding and consistent. During his current campaign, he has bragged about his part as a co-author of the Violence Against Women act of 1994, Title IV of the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act of 1994. In 1993, he cited the work of radfem professor Mary P. Koss in support of the passage of his bill. VAWA included multiple attacks on due process and the gender neutrality of federal intimate partner and sexual violence law.
The law used wording that relies on the label “victim” for accusers throughout its text, presuming accusers’ stories to be factual and the accused to be perpetrators, thereby removing the presumption of innocence. This is normal for statutes describing criminal definitions, but VAWA does so in its descriptions of policy and procedures for criminal investigations and hearings, and federally funded social services for accusers whose alleged perpetrators haven’t been convicted.
Under VAWA, federal funding was allocated for indoctrinating every aspect of the justice system with feminist dogma, prejudicing them against the accused. Further, federal funding was allocated to incentivize arrest, prosecution, conviction, and sentencing, without regard to the merits or dubiousness of individual allegations. The law funded advocates to accompany accusers to court, creating a government-supported adversary against the accused that is unique to these types of criminal allegations. This advocate’s job is to support the accuser's interests against the due process rights of the accused, and to provide emotional support throughout the judicial process. The accused is not given any equivalent support. Under the law Biden brags about penning, the law enforcement and judicial systems are essentially ordered to approach criminal sexual misconduct allegations with a presumption of guilt and then cripple the defense of the accused, yet when accused of such misconduct himself, Biden expects the full benefit of the doubt from you peons whose due process rights he eviscerated with that law.
In all of his statements on Reade’s allegations against him, and his opinion of DeVos’s Title IX reforms, 
BIDEN HAS YET TO EXPLAIN WHY HE THINKS HE IS DESERVING OF A BETTER LEVEL OF CIVIL RIGHTS PROTECTIONS THAN YOU ARE.                                                   
In fact, to date, while it’s been posed rhetorically by some in the right-leaning media, he hasn’t even directly faced that question from anybody.
Will anyone in the establishment media have the courage to ask him? Does the presidential candidate have the courage to be interviewed by someone who would?
SOURCES
https://www2.ed.gov/about/offices/list/ocr/docs/titleix-regs-unofficial.pdf
https://reason.com/2020/05/06/betsy-devos-title-ix-due-process-college-sexual-misconduct/ https://now.org/media-center/press-release/betsy-devos-new-rule-on-campus-sexual-assault-continues-the-all-out-attack-on-the-safety-and-rights-of-women-and-girls/
https://www.politico.com/news/2020/05/06/biden-vows-a-quick-end-to-devos-sexual-misconduct-rule-241715
https://www.cnn.com/2020/05/01/politics/joe-biden-tara-reade-allegation/index.html
https://www.littler.com/publication-press/publication/sixth-circuit-provides-expansive-due-process-rights-title-ix-cases
https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2019/08/08/ruling-umass-amherst-title-ix-lawsuit-may-lead-supreme-court-case-experts-say
https://now.org/media-center/press-release/see-no-evil-betsy-devos-endangers-survivors-of-campus-sexual-misconduct/
http://www.saveservices.org/2012/08/how-rape-laws-remove-the-presumption-of-innocence/
https://www.govinfo.gov/content/pkg/BILLS-103hr3355enr/pdf/BILLS-103hr3355enr.pdf
https://news.google.com/newspapers?id=w2NPAAAAIBAJ&sjid=XgMEAAAAIBAJ&pg=5854%2C2479318
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Text
Someone Who Isn’t The Equivalent...
A/N: Here is my first real request! I had fun writing this...so please if you’re interested in requesting, look at my list of who I am willing to write for, or ask me in private message. I always answer!! :) 
Pairing: Sweet Pea x reader, references of Reggie x reader, references of old sweet pea x josie 
Summary: Sweet pea and the reader are going through the same situation; they are both stuck in an unofficial relationship. After one too many times being blown off or neglected by Reggie, the reader is starting to have enough. Her and sweet pea start to notice that they are going through the same thing, and confide in each other...and maybe something good will come out of it. They do both know what the other person wants. 
Warning: toxic relationship references
      Regret filled the air as Reggie slid his shirt back on, giving you a smirk. “I gotta run, my dad will be pissed if I’m not home for dinner. Can I make a rain check on Pop’s?” He asked casually and you shrug, pulling the blankets up over your body. This wasn’t the first time that Reggie has cancelled actual plans outside of your house...actually it was the second time this week, and its only Wednesday. 
        “Sure Reg, but can I ask you a question?” You ask turning to face him as he slides on his shoes. He looks up at you with an eyebrow raised. The sorrow in your voice ticked him off slightly. How could you be upset after what you two just did? He nods, awaiting the inquiry, even though you know he was impatient. “Are we gonna ever go on a real date, or am I just a booty call?” You question and he scoffs. 
        “Why do you always have to get sappy? We had a good time-” 
        “You’re ignoring the question.” You note with a sigh, turning back to face away from him as he grabs his phone and keys from your bed stand, and starts for the door. 
        “I’ll talk to you later Y/N, alright?” Reggie says briefly, exiting your bedroom, closing the door behind him. You knew you wouldn’t hear from Reggie again that night. You got up to take a shower, knowing the hot water may cleanse you from all your gloominess. Taking your phone off the charger for music in the shower, you see a text from Toni, asking you if you want to go to Pop’s with her, Cheryl, Kevin, Fangs, and Sweet Pea. Knowing it would be better than being stuck home alone with your thoughts and the cancelled plans with Reggie, you told her you’d be there in 30, and jumped into the shower. You didn’t need Reggie to have fun, especially with Kevin, Toni and Cheryl around. You and Cheryl did not always get along, but Toni definitely brought out her best traits. 
        Entering Pop’s, all your friends turned to see you, signaled by the bell. “Damn Y/N...took you a long time. Were you with Mental or something?” Cheryl asked with a giggle at her own nickname for Reggie and you shrugged, not showing the little pang you felt in your chest from her referencing him. You took your seat next to Kevin, across from the tall raven haired serpent you’d only spoken to maybe three times. 
        “If I was with him, I’m not now, so guess that’s all that matters...right?” You say, laced with brusqueness. Cheryl was of course taken aback, which made your face soften. You knew she didn’t do anything to you, so she didn’t deserve that. “Sorry. Long day.” You apologize and she waves it off. She was one to be angered by a little snappiness. That was basically her name at times. 
        After ordering your shake, you’d listened to Toni, Kevin and Cheryl give the group the latest gossip. You weren’t all that in the mood for gossip, but the fact that their faces lit up when they talked about it, made you happy. Fangs seemed into it too, but Sweet pea couldn’t look more somber. He was staring down at his phone, fingers typing a million miles per minute. You tried not to show your interest, but when he looked up and met your eyes with his hard brown ones, you couldn’t help but cower. No matter what Toni or Fangs say, he is not always a softy. He gave some mean looks, and this was the first time you’d ever been on the receiving end. That made you think back to the time when Reggie always talked about him, hating the serpents, all that bull-crap that you constantly tried to change. It was no use at the time. But now thinking about it, made you wonder why everything in your head went back to Reginald Mantle. You stood up, pushing your phone into your pocket. “Excuse me for a minute, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself and everyone nods. Making your way to the surprisingly clean bathroom, you looked at yourself in the mirror; your hair was normal, clothes were normal, but it was obvious there wasn’t something right in your face. Hearing your phone ‘Ding’, you looked down to see Toni’s name flash across the screen. 
        From TT: Do I need to come in there? Do you wanna talk privately? 
        You smile at the text, knowing she was worried. But did you wanna talk about it? But then you get another text, this one from Kevin. 
        From Kevin Keller: Incoming! Reginald Mantle just entered with the bulldogs! 
        Your eyes widened. “My dad will be pissed if I don’t make it to dinner, my ass!” you whisper to yourself, looking in the mirror once more before exiting the bathroom, making sure to strut just a little harder than normal, in case Reggie looked over. Sitting back at the table, all eyes but Sweet Pea’s were on you. 
        “I though-” 
        “It’s stupid. Let’s talk about something else.” You say and Fangs nods, seeing as there were a few vixens with them. This was casual, but he still lied to you. From the look on Sweet Pea’s face, it wasn’t something he wanted to see either, and it didn’t take long for you to guess why. Josie McCoy was with them. Sweet pea huffed, getting up out of the booth and practically stomping out of Pop’s. You felt for the kid. Of course, hanging around Toni you knew he liked her. You didn’t understand why, it seemed she treated him like trash in public, the one time you had seen them together or even remotely near each other in public that is. You followed the leather clad serpent, the bell dinging behind you as well. 
        “Hey Sweet Pea!” You say as he reaches his bike, he turns on his heels, seemingly not too afraid to bite if he didn’t like what you had to say. 
        “What do you want?” He snaps, clearly not in the neutral mood anymore. You sighed, knowing that Sweet Pea was easily frustrated, and you didn’t want to set him off. But you did want to say something. It wasn’t new for the group you’d been with to see him get walked on, even if Josie didn’t know she was doing it. 
        “Listen, I’m not trying to pity you, or make a sympathy group or anything...but I saw that in there. And it isn’t fair for you to leave without your shake, all angry. It isn’t safe to drive like that.” You reason and he cocks his head, raising an eyebrow at you. You could see the disdain on his face. 
        “Why would I want Mantle’s girlfriend telling me how to spend my night, and how to feel?” He asks and you narrow your eyes. Him calling you Reggie’s girlfriend made you more mad than you expected it ever would, but the way he said it felt patronizing. It caused your face to get hot. 
        “I am -not- Reggie’s girlfriend. But don’t you dare take out your anger for Josie on me, because I am just trying to be friendly. But you know what? I’m sick of standing up for people who don’t deserve it. You? Reggie? You’re all the same. Nobody else’s feelings matter but yours.” You say and start back for the diner, hands clenched. You were already agitated when you arrived, so it wouldn’t take much to really get you going. 
        You just barely reached the door when you heard hesitant footsteps. “Hey, wait. My bad, okay?” Sweet Pea says, reluctance and distance clear in his tone as he reaches the door with you, his hand holding it closed so you couldn’t enter. You turned around, and it was now your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. 
        “Sure. Your bad. Reggie is not my boyfriend. I thought he was, but he’s not. He is just playing me, so now that that is cleared, may I go?” You ask and he surprises you with a chuckle. It was a smooth laugh, that seemed genuine. 
        “May you go? Do you always have to be so polite?” He asked with a scoff. “You’re too good for Reggie, maybe you should ask your friend Cheryl to set you up with someone who isn’t the human equivalent to cat puke.” Sweet pea says honestly, letting go of the door. You weren’t sure if you really were having this conversation with Sweet Pea, or if you’d passed out in the ladies room. But it seemed to vivid to be fake. You could smell the burgers from inside, the smell of gas from the constant traffic on the road, and especially; Sweet Pea’s leather and cologne smell. It was exactly how Josie explained it to you, Toni and Cheryl in the locker room. 
        “Thank you?” You said turning to face the -very- tall serpent. You let your eyes hover on the tattoo that covered a small part of his neck. It was always much larger seeming from far away, jumping out at you when you saw it like a reflector on a bike. “You’re too good for Josie. Maybe you should ask your friend Toni to set you up with someone who isn’t the human equivalent to a children’s tea cup set.” You say and let out a chuckle, opening the door and entering. But this time you felt good meeting Reggie’s pouty eyes. Because Sweet Pea was right. He is the human equivalent to cat throw up, and you deserved better. It would be hard, but you can’t see Reggie anymore. That was the bottom line. When you reached the red booths once more, you heard the door open. You turned around to see Sweet Pea looking rather cheerful. 
        “Couldn’t forget to finish my shake, right?” He says sending you a sideways glance that you try to ignore, but end up cracking a smile instead. You shook your head as your friends eyed you both, as well as Josie and Reggie on the other side of the diner. It felt nice. 
        “God that would be a shame.” You comment sarcastically as you take the cup and slide it over to yourself, taking a sip. “God no, this is amazing.” You note, cracking a grin. You didn’t even like the flavor, but it was not that that mattered. 
        “So Cheryl, Y/N said she wants you to set her up with someone who doesn’t have the personality of cat puke.” Sweet pea piped up after a moment of silence. You gasped, sliding the shake back over. 
        “Um, no. He suggested it.” You remind him with narrowed eyes. Cheryl rolls her eyes. 
        “Toni said you two would be cute together a week ago.” She pipes up and you both whip your heads over to Toni. She had a bright grin on her face that mirrored Kevin’s. 
        “Whoa, I never said me.” Sweet Pea puts his large hands up in surrender, but Fangs throws them down, finally piping up into the conversation, sounding particularly jocular. 
        “You implied it my man.” Sweet pea shook his head, going defense mode, but more gentle and teasingly than he would normally, as it was Fangs he was talking to. He patted him on the shoulder patronizingly. 
          “You wouldn’t know that. You have a body count of like one.” 
WANT A P2? 
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Noctis has been trying to figure out how to bring it up for weeks.
He'd had the idea in the middle of his morning routine, with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Still mostly asleep, he'd happened to notice that there were three completely different razors sitting lined up across the side of the counter. His, Nyx's, and Prompto's. The two of them stayed over so often that they'd both, separately, given up and bought spares to keep at Noctis'.
His brow furrowed and mind thoroughly distracted, Noctis walks through his apartment. There are three toothbrushes in the bathroom along with the three razors. The textbooks for Prompto's Thursday classes are stacked on the coffee table, since Noctis' apartment is closer to campus and Prompto almost always spends Wednesday night here. Nyx's Coeurl-print apron is hanging in the kitchen for when he decides he's going to cook Galahdian food for them while they study.
They both practically live here already.
He has spare keys made that afternoon, but chickens out on actually bringing it up. He ends up carrying the keys around with him, waiting for the mythical 'perfect time' that doesn't seem to be appearing.
"Hey dad," he hesitates later that week, fiddling with the corner of the textbook he'd been trying to study from. "How did you ask papa to move in with you?"
Clarus pauses and puts aside the book he'd been reading to give his full attention to his middle child. Sunday evenings are traditionally Caelum Family Dinner, sometimes at the bar or down in Ardyn's basement apartment, but more usually at the house Regis and Clarus bought after moving out of the apartment above the bar when Noctis was nine. Almost everyone else is currently in the kitchen cooking (Ignis, Nyx, Regis) or in the dining room setting the table (Gladio, Prompto), and they can hear Ardyn and Iris arguing over... salad dressing?
Cor also looks up from where he'd commandeered Regis' armchair, and drops his tablet onto the side table. "Pass," he says flatly, getting up to go take a side in the dressing argument. Noctis can't help grinning at his back, and Clarus chuckles.
"Well," Clarus rubs a hand over his chin, considering the answer to Noctis' question. "Ours was a special case. After Regis' first year of university, Ardyn had already moved out on his own, and Reg didn't want to move back into his father's house without Ardyn there. I offered to let him stay with me until he could find a place, and then he never left."
Noctis makes a face at the mention of his grandfather, whom he's never actually met. He's not even entirely sure Mors Caelum is still alive, but he's gathered it's better that way. "So it just... happened?"
"That's about it," Clarus nods. "Sorry I couldn't be more help." He's clearly dying to know why Noctis asked, but unlike Regis he won't actually pry, which Noctis appreciates.
"No, I think it does help," Noctis rubs a hand over the back of his neck, knowing his cheeks are turning pink. "...I noticed earlier this week that there's three of a lot of things in my apartment."
Clarus smiles and leans over to pat his son's knee. Noctis had always been the quietest of their children, content to hang out with his siblings and Cindy and Luna and not make too many new friends. How fast he'd hit it off with Prompto had been a pleasant surprise. Clarus still isn't sure (and isn't sure he wants to know) how the two of them had then hooked up with Nyx, but it seems to be working for the three of them, and Clarus has never seen Noctis happier. "Then I think you already have your answer."
"Guess so," Noctis smiles. "Thanks dad."
It's another week before he finds the courage. He and Prompto are sitting together on the couch, Noctis with a book open against his bent knees and Prompto typing like mad on his laptop, grumbling under his breath about midnight deadlines. Nyx, free from the chains of higher education and quite content with his new role as the Crownsguard's assistant manager, smirks at them both from where he's casually doing push ups on the floor. They'd made him move around behind the couch after the first set so he'd stop distracting them.
Noctis sets his book down on the coffee table and stretches. "I'm getting coffee, Prom, want anything while I'm up?"
Prompto glances up briefly and offers him a smile. "Juice if we've got it, thanks."
Noctis nods and gets to his feet, glad just to move around a little as he goes into the kitchen to get their drinks. He chews on his lower lip, and then decides to hell with it. While the coffee's brewing he pulls open a drawer and pulls out the two keychains he's had stashed there. "Hey Nyx, catch."
Nyx pushes himself up onto his knees, reaching up automatically to catch the small metallic object being tossed at his head. He opens his hand, blinking down at the small plush Tonberry keychain and the key attached to it. For a moment he doesn't get it, and then it clicks and his eyes dart back up to Noctis. "You're giving me a key to your place?"
"Our place," Noctis corrects, smiling when he sees Prompto start to pout and tossing his other boyfriend the other key and its fluffy Chocobo keychain. "It's okay Prom, I bought two."
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ask-magala · 5 years
Text
Routine
A Short Story for Riley
Get up at 7:30. Brush teeth. Change. Eat breakfast. Go to First. Go to Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Go home. Chinese on Monday Wednesday. Advanced Calculus on Tuesday Thursday. Violin on Friday. Curfew at 10.
This was Riley’s schedule for the first year of high school. Her parents decided that she was responsible enough to stay with the butler Reginald, while they went out on their business trips. They day they left was like a whirlwind. All Riley remembered was a trip to the airport, a long black limo, and a few disembodied waves. She figured it was just her bad memory.
“Hey Reg. What do I have on Tuesdays again?” she asked.
“You have Calculus with your private tutor on Tuesday and Thursday.” he said.
Her parents spared no expense. The tutor was a former college professor and charged a premium Riley’s parents seemed to agree on. Only the best for their daughter.
“And Wednesday?”
“On Monday and Wednesday you have Chinese with your tutor.”
Again, no expense spared. Business was an important part of the family’s income, and learning Chinese was invaluable. It would help when she grew up to join her parents overseas for their business ventures.
It was a routine she slowly moved into.
“Riley. Your father is calling.”
Riley took the phone.
“Hello?” she asked.
“Your Chinese tutor said you never came to class today.” “Yeah I had…”
“Your mother and I expect you to be there at 3:00 sharp. It is disgraceful to keep your teacher waiting, especially since he is giving you private tutoring. Your mother and I spend money for you to go to these classes. Next time, you will be there.”
“Yes father.”
Get up at 7:30. Brush teeth. Change. Eat breakfast. Go to First. Go to Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Go home. Chinese on Monday Wednesday. Advanced Calculus on Tuesday Thursday. Violin on Friday. Curfew at 10.
“Miss Riley. Your father wishes to speak with you.” Riley picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“You missed the first 8 minutes of your Calculus class on the 8th, the first 5 minutes of violin practice on the 9th and the first 2 minutes of your Monday Chinese class this week.”
“Yeah I was doing a…”
“In response to your irresponsible behavior as of late, we have installed security cameras around the house.”
“Wait… when did…”
“Your mother and I spend a lot of money on your education. But you will not find any results until you get there on time. Until that happens, you must be watched. You will attend your classes on time.”
“Yes father.”
Riley curled up on bed that night. Her bed was centered in the room. She could see the small red blip in her room where the camera was. The camera could see everything.
Get up at 7:30. Brush teeth. Change. Eat breakfast. Go to First. Go to Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Go home. Chinese on Monday Wednesday. Advanced Calculus on Tuesday Thursday. Violin on Friday. Curfew at 10.
“You came home 10 minutes late.”
Riley stiffened. How did father know? The cameras.
“Because of this, your mother and I have decided to cut your curfew by 2 hours. You will be home and in bed by 8.”
“But…”
“No buts. You will be home by 8. Until you prove to us you are responsible, your mother and I have no choice but to enforce these rules.”
“Yes father.”
Riley glanced at her phone.
“POLICE ENGAGED IN HOSTAGE SITUATION”
Riley picked up her phone, and placed it face down.
Get up at 7:30. Brush teeth. Change. Eat breakfast. Go to First. Go to Second. Third. Get up at 7:30. Brush teeth. Change. Eat breakfast. Go to First. Go to Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Go home. Chinese on Monday Wednesday. Advanced Calculus on Tuesday Thursday. Violin on Friday. Curfew at 8. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Get up at 7:30. Brush teeth. Change. Eat breakfast. Go to First. Go to Second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. Go home. Chinese on Monday Wednesday. Advanced Calculus on Tuesday Thursday. Violin on Friday. Curfew at 8. Go home. Chinese on Monday Wednesday. Advanced Calculus on Tuesday Thursday. Violin on Friday. Curfew at 8.
“Riley.”
Her father sounded furious through the speaker. She just gave a half glance.
“Riley. We are very disappointed in you.”
His voice was trembling. Anger, perhaps? Not like she cared.
“We told you, again and again. You need to be responsible. You have to get into a good college. What will happen if you don’t get a degree? What will happen to the family business? Will you let it all crumble to the ground?”
She heard the sound of paper being wrung in his hand.
“An F. How could you get an F. An F! Failure! Perhaps we can call the school. This stain on your record… Shameful. Completely and utterly…
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!”
Riley ran into her room, crawled under the bed, and cried.
Riley never cried. The last time she actually cried was when she was a baby, because that was what babies did. Even in Kindergarten, when she was first separated from her parents, she didn’t cry. She simply carried on with school. Riley curled up on the floor. No one went into her room. She didn’t want anyone to go in. Her parents had changed the doorknob years ago. There was no lock. They could come in any time they wanted.
“Riley?”
A beam of light cast its gaze across the room when the door opened. It wasn’t Reginald. A man in a stiff suit came and knelt down next to her bed.
“Riley, dear?”
Her father sighed. He was exceptionally talented when it came to business and politics. A prodigy they called him. But talking to children was something he was foreign to.
“I’m sorry. From now on… We won’t force you to take any extra after school classes without your consent. We agreed to return your curfew back to 10:00.”
She didn’t respond. He sat on her bed and looked around. Her room was remarkably bare, unlike the stereotypical high schooler’s bedroom. That’s when he realized. Riley’s room was an exact copy of his room. There was nothing in it to indicate that it was her’s.
“Riley, dear. Um… Perhaps it is also time to redo your room? You’re getting older and… well you need a more appropriate room. Riley? Are… Did you hear me? I… I.” he asked.
Riley slowly crawled out from under the bed. She knew her dad. He was exceptionally awkward when it came to talking to people on a personal level. She stood up and stared at him.
“Riley dear. I...I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry. We should never have forced all of this on you. Your mother and I have agreed to clear your entire schedule and… keep our hands off.”
Riley’s lip trembled. Her father was stubborn, resilient, and a complete hard head. To hear him talk in this way… it was jarring. But there was one thing she knew about her father. When he said it, he really meant it.
“Dad…” She leaned forward, and he embraced her.
They sat and talked for a while. He revealed some things to her. She revealed some things to him. Some things they talked about, they needed to get off their chest. Others were more surprising. But the whole time, her father was not mad. For the first time, he listened.
Get up at 7:30 Brush teeth Change Eat breakfast Go to First Go to Second Third Fourth Fifth Sixth Seventh Curfew at 10
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cheap-spirits · 5 years
Text
Hi todays been shit. This is what went wrong.
First its just me and my brother looking after the two dogs all week but hes staying at my dads tonight tomorrow and Wednesday cause its just easier for work. This means i have to give up my precious sleep to walk the dogs at fucking 6:30am. In autumn. In scotland. ITS COLD AS FUCK AND WET AND MUDDY. EW.
So i took them out this morning and it was fine compared to the rest of today.
We (the dogs and i) get back home and i chill out for a bit before i get ready (highlight of the day tbh)
So i get ready for school and start the 5-10 minute walk. I was thinking how lucky i am to live close to school and how i wont have to walk across muddy grass and slip (cause i have no balance and i slip every year on mud without fail...several times a year) then suddenly, i step on what appeared to be a seemingly innocent water cover thing, like a plastic square cover on the pavement. I go to walk on as i had been for the past couple minutes my foot slides and i go down. Face first. I genuinely thought i broke a rib cause i couldnt breathe for what felt like 5 minutes.
As i sit there trying to catch my breath, i try to assess the situation. Is my knee sore? Yeah but not too bad considering. Is my back sore? Nah not really. Is my chest sore? A little but i can walk it off.
I thought i was fine
I got up, brushed the dirt off my clothes and carry on. Make it to school with plenty time to have a chat before reg started.
Then I remember, i have higher modern studies for two hours. And were starting a new topic.
As i struggle through the lesson, barely paying attention to my insane teacher, its finally break. Fairly uneventful.
Break ends and i now have study for two hours. Me and my friends make our way to the study room and take our seats. It starts off like any other with someone signing us all in and someone else grabbing us all laptops. The first hour passes, a couple laughs, a little concentration, a lot of moaning that were tired and sick off school. Then i feel it. A tight pain in my right knee.
I dont realise how bad it really is until we stand up 10 minutes early for lunch to head to asda to get there before the rest of the school. I can barely fucking walk. I hobble up to asda and say to myself “it cant get much worse than it already is!”
I need to learn from my mistakes tbh
So ive been working on a mock court thing for the past few weeks. Its been a total shambles from start to finish. Only me and my one friend has done any of the work in our group and we were supposed to be in actual court on thurday. 3 days time. My friend and i cant make it. The group is screwed. So back to today, we had a meeting at lunch to see what the everloving fuck we can do to salvage our reputation. Two people dont show up. The two people who were moaning to me and my friend last week saying we were completely underprepared. Safe to say i was pissed off. My friend was pissed off. My modern teacher was pissed off. (Shes running it btw) so our teacher gets really pissy and shit, i actually cant remember what she was saying i just know i was getting pissed off.
Lunch ends and i have a decision to make. Go to PE for two hours and suffer through the pain in my knee or just go home.
I obviously go home, but not until after i go down the stairs from the main teaching block to the gym hall and realise i cant fucking walk.
So i get home and chill with my dogs, naturally. I got home early so i didnt need to take them for a walk for a few more hours which gave me time to rest.
It starts to absolutely chuck it down outside, just as i was about to take the dogs out, so i wait about 10 minutes until it stops. I realise that this is gonna be one of the only times i can go without it raining today.
We get outside and usually, the dogs like to take their time before they do their business. Today they seemed to realise something was coming. We make it to the park where theres a short circuit they normally walk around twice a day. Today they poo and turn back home. Instantly.
Who am i to judge my dogs? I don’t particularly want to walk either, so just as i decide were just gonna head home, it starts.
It was such heavy rain that within seconds i was soaked through my hoddie and my dogs were dripping wet.
I try and get home as fast as i can but its too late. Were so wet. We get in and get dried before my brother comes home from work an hour later.
Him being the gentleman he is, he takes the dogs out on an actual walk considering i cant fucking move now.
A few hours go by, uneventful, all i do is watch youtube, a blissful end to a shitty day? Almost.
The dogs needed to be taken out once more before bed, things were going too well. I get their leads on fine, make it down the stairs without falling.
We get outside and one collar breaks.
OF FUCKING COURSE IT BREAKS WHY WOULDNT IT BREAK WHEN IM HOME ALONE WITH NO MONEY TO BUY A NEW ONE AT HALF TEN AT NIGHT
Luckily we had a spare collar but it was fucking massive, so to get it to fit her theres a massive loop that dangles so she’s currently naked cause im scared she’ll strangle herself or my other dog during the night and with my luck today that probably would’ve happened
Well, that was my disastrous day, hope you had a better day and im sorry this was so long xx
TL:DR ive just had a really shitty day its actually funny how bad its been
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aurimeanswind · 6 years
Text
Let’s Make Up—Sunday Chats—4/22/18
So last week I had a Sunday Chats all written and done, and while writing the last two closing paragraphs, my web browser crashed and Tumblr, being the platform with apparently no fail safes at all, completely lost all of what I wrote. I was initially going to just rewrite it the next day or the following Wednesday (my next day off) but then life happened and to be perfectly honest I had what we call in the biz a godawful week, so it didn’t happen. I apologize, I took your questions and selfishly coveted my answers when you had taken your time to submit them, and I am very sorry for that.
To make up for it, this week I am answering all of last week’s questions IN ADDITION to the few I got for this week, so hopefully it’ll be jam packed. Luckily I didn’t have a big editorial thought-piece ready for last week, so for this week...
The 10 out of 10
So I’ve been playing God of War, as I’m sure many of you readers have been, and I’m delighted by it in so many wonderful ways. But I think the reviews definitely set an expectation that is really impossible to meet. I’m not treading new ground here, I think that’s safe to say (as is usually the case with my writing) but it’s just the thought I’ve had the most playing God of War.
I think you get this idea that it’s a series of incredibly brilliant moments that tie together beautifully, and while I think much of that is true, a lot of what you do in God of War is run around and fight dudes. As great as that is, I’ve only had maybe two big moments in my ten or so hours with it. But the quality of what I’ve seen so far just gets me excited to see what moments I have coming up, especially since at this point, I really have absolutely no idea what the hell is going to happen next.
What i think gets understated in such a masterful score is just the sheer volume of production value poured into every inch of a game. I think that’s something that’s hard to convey across an entire review, let alone just a score, but boy, there is just a ton of polish and excellence throughout the game, from the small animations, to how Kratos always grabs a cliff’s face and doesn’t clip through it.
It’s really excellently made, and I hope everyone out there is enjoying it as much as I am.
What’s on Tap
So I finished Kingdom Hearts 1
I re-beat this game again, finally going and doing all the additional content, like synthesis, extra bosses, grinding to level 100, etc.
I dunno... I think Kingdom Hearts is great but its “post-game” content is really underwhelming. I think none of the bosses are truly “special” in a way that they are in Kingdom Hearts 2. They don’t have these strategies seared into my mind, at least.
That being said, the design philosophy in KH1 versus its sequel is so completely different and fascinating. It’s far more Metroidvania in its intent to have you backtrack and re-explore already searched areas. It feels almost like it’s from a completely different franchise.
Like... There is ZERO platforming at all in Kingdom Hearts 2. Like, none. I can’t think of a section where you have to jump from a thing to a thing, except maybe the extra dungeon they added in the Final Mix version.
It makes me hopeful that maybe they’ll revisit some of these ideas in Kingdom Hearts 3 but eh. I doubt it.
Kingdom Hearts 2 on Critical
I started this and it’s about as frustrating as I anticipated. It’s not terrible or world ending, as its essentially just Proud mode difficulty with half your total health.
But I’m about to fight Xaldin in my playthrough so basically it’s all downhill from here.
God of War
So yes, I’ve been playing God of War. It is indeed, a video game.
I mean it’s really great. I talked about it a lot on last night’s podcast if you want some more detailed thoughts. But here are some standouts:
The combat is labored in a way that makes it so much more intense and significant. Of all the things that remind me of The Last of Us, it’s this aspect. It’s the intensity of each hit, the feeling of desperation in every slam and slash, and the violence that goes with it feels justified in the God of War universe where it absolutely never has before.
I get a ton of Darksiders vibes from this game, specifically Darksiders 2. The way it introduces side areas, side dungeons, side puzzles, and especially chests, reminds me a ton of how Darksiders approached formulaic Zelda ideas. It works very well here.
The Axe is, of course, excellent. But I’d say it isn’t the throw of the axe that works, it’s calling it back.
The ambient dialogue between your characters feels pulled straight out of a Naughty Dog game, and it feels so derivative of that that it makes me like it a bit less that I’d personally want to. It just feels almost exactly the same, just with different characters, and so far, outside of Kratos and how “deals” it dialogue, there isn’t enough separating it.
Overall very good. I will eventually be writing a review for IrrationalPassions.com. Look for it someday.
Questions
Remember to look for my tweet with the hashtag #SundayChats every Sunday afternoon, reply to it with your question, and boom. That’s how the magic happens.
Last week’s questions:
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Ya know last week I’d have a different answer but I’ll revisit that later. In short: stuff is happening. I’m trying to live my life. Trying to do good. Failing a lot, but I’ll keep trying.
I’ve been crazy busy too. I feel like this is the year I am trying to teach myself different and new things, whether they be on a technical level, or maybe software, or something else along those lines.
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Thank you for the kind words. As for the future, I think there is another question asking a bit of something like this, but it’s trying to stay busy and trying to make bigger and better moves. Like, E3 I think is out of the question, but PAX West isn’t, and aiming for something like that is really exciting and it gives us a lot of new options and opportunities. Plus, we’ve been trying to have actual meetings on the reg about what we’re doing and what ideas we have.
A big one that Scott White has been spearheading you’ll probably know more about by the end of this month, and there are some new shows and new styles of pieces I think we are all trying to do. As for me, I just want to get better with video stuff, with supporting the team, and with GA, as that’s my main new project.
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I like milk. I drink milk, by itself, or in chocolate form, pretty regularly. I’ve been at a restaurant with friends and asked for a glass of milk and everyone laughed at me. I’ve since never done that.
Milk is good.
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I mean the biggest one was assuredly The Messenger, which is like, my #1 most anticipated. But I was lucky that my team got to go out there and see stuff and present it to me with cool thoughts and perspectives on all of them. Like, Solo sounds super cool and I want to see more of it, and City of Brass wasn’t on my radar at all but seems really cool. Mike convinced me to see Omensight and that’s just a really rad new entry from a team I didn’t think had it in them.
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I mean, I don’t even really know who Kid Rock is. I mean I know of him, but eh. I’ve never heard his music before a day in my life. I hear he is like, not good? Like, not a good person, not necessarily a bad musician. But I don’t want to assume. Is this libel? Am I getting black balled out of the industry right now?
Also you look hella cute Roger. So proud of you.
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It absolutely was not. A big thing was I was planning on getting a 4K TV, and since I had the Xbox One X I was happy with just that and then the HDR that my original PS4 could reach. But there was a good deal and if I was already investing so much I wanted to get the most out of my TV. So I swear to god if a PS5 comes out next fall I’ll be pissed.
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Brian. Nabeshin. Jackson. So I can know what it feels like to be the nicest dude in the world and also a great uncle.
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It’s really sad. But also nice since I can be alone again. But also sad.
A bit of a mixed bag.
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Pretty much anything in Final Fantasy 15 looks amazing and delicious. But that Beef Bowl in Persona 4... Man, I’ve had dreams about that Beef Bowl.
This week’s questions:
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Shoutout to Brandon Gann, who is in ALL WEEK’S questions for Sunday Chats.
Yes, God of War is great. I think I got into it pretty well above, but yes, I really enjoy it. The combat, above all else, just feels so great. It reminds me a TON of DmC Devil May Cry in that it is training me well and I feel really good at it. Plus the way the weapons work kind of reminds me of that kind of combat too.
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It absolutely has to be the SNES. I think I’ve lost countless hours to that system, and it’s something that, as a gift for me, I had my parents go and buy of eBay waaay past its time so as I could sit down and revisit all these classic games. Something I’m still incredibly appreciative of to this day.
But A Link to the Past and Super Metroid are just so formulative of my current taste in games and the things I seek out the most in video games (see: adventure and backtracking) and that was the console I sank the most time into without a doubt. I think GameBoy is totally a great choice, I didn’t have my own until I got a GameBoy color, but the GBA was the one I fell in love with the most, and I wouldn’t really get deep into that until much later.
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Hey like, real talk everyone? Hey? Everyone bring it down, it’s real talk time?
Like, I’m doing suuuuper not good. Like actively very bad, and it’s just a whole lot going on. Last week is like, top three, top four worst weeks ever for me, and I had to make a whole bunch of adult decisions that, while I was prepared for them, I wasn’t happy about anything, and everything seemed to just make the situation more miserable. On top of that, I just feel like I’ve been really shitty and a shitty friend to basically all the people in my life that matter the most, and on top of that I have a lot of stress from work and money and blah.
Like, in the grand scheme of things, I’m doing okay, I’ll be okay, but I feel bad, it all feels bad, and it’s pretty shitty. Like, I know this probably wasn’t the answer expected, but it’s definitely the truth.
I’ll do better next time.
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In my defense, it’s what I was doing up until I started writing this, and, while I do need to go do the dishes before I get back into God of War because lord knows no one else will, I’ll be continuing my adventure in Midgard until I pass out tonight.
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I mean I feel really good about it, so long as everyone involved feels good. Like we’ve certainly hit a lot more readers and have broadened our audience in a way we’ve never been capable of before, and we have opportunities now that we’ve never had before, and I feel really good about that. I’m not super into the numbers, but I am into opportunity, ability to cover games pre-release, go to events, things like that.
As for the end of the year, I feel like, or at least I hope, there is a bit more cross pollination as far as skill, like more folks will be able to support Social, and more folks will be able to do video, or host shows, or whatever that may be. But I want that to all happen within comfort: like Social is Jurge’s thing, and if he doesn’t want to share that because of his ownership of it, I get that, I respect that, and I’m all about that. People gotta have their territory of expertise, and since I’ve been jack-of-all-trading it alone this whole time, I’m all about doing that for myself.
Even though I kind of already have and that’s editing.
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The Ninja Samurai from Ghosts of Tsushima (upcoming, I know) and Sly Cooper, because I’m all about creating the greatest Ninja clan this side of the land of the rising sun.
That’s all I got for this week. Thank you all for your patience and understanding. I’ll do better next time. I will try and continue to do these more consistently. I love you all, thank you for reading and supporting and listening and being great.
Until next time, keep it real.
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delfinamaggiousa · 3 years
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Leading Female Wine Professionals Launch Diversity and Inclusion Initiative, Be The Change
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Four leading female wine professionals on Wednesday announced the launch of Be The Change, an initiative to address inequities in the wine industry and promote inclusion and diversity. Be the Change aims to tackle these issues by hosting innovative virtual job fairs and working towards long-term legislation change.
The initiative was founded by four industry leaders with a history of prioritizing diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) in the wine space: Lia Jones, founder and executive director, Diversity in Wine & Spirits (DWS); Rania Zayyat, founder and president, Wonder Women of Wine (WWOW); Cara Bertone, national accounts sales manager, Folio Fine Wine Partners; and Philana Bouvier, vice president of fine wine, RNDC, and chair, WSWA Women’s Leadership Council.
Be The Change will host its first job fair on Dec. 2 – 3, with a second larger event set for March 2021, at the WWOW conference. The first four-hour virtual event will connect vetted employers, who show a commitment to DEI, with up to 1,000 job seekers. Tech-focused recruitment companies Brazen and ForceBrands will provide the online platform and digital support.
“We are thrilled to introduce the wine industry to some of the most cutting edge technology out there in recruitment and hiring,” says Folio Fine Wine’s Cara Bertone. “These platforms will help us achieve our goal of creating a more inclusive and diverse wine industry.”
Employers and candidates can register for the event via Be The Change’s website from Nov. 2. For employers — or “exhibitors” — there are four levels of paid participation packages; three will grant access to a DEI benchmarking report compiled by DWS. Access to the report will help companies evaluate how they are currently performing on diversity, says RNDC’s Bouvier. All of the proceeds from the event, which is being hosted for free by Brazen as part of its “Opportunity Fund,” will go towards the DWS and WWOW nonprofits.
As a queer black woman who has worked in the food and beverage industries for more than 20 years, DWS’ Jones says personal experiences of “being a token to meet an employer’s bottom line” have inspired her to strive for more inclusive workplaces. “[Be The Change] is especially unique as we incorporate an employer vetting process to address the need for safe spaces in a diverse workplace,” she says.
To kick off December’s virtual event, Be The Change will hold a virtual roundtable discussion moderated by RNDC’s Bouvier. The panel will focus on how the wine industry can provide equal opportunities for all and will feature: DWS’ Jones; Dr. Hoby Wedler, sensory innovation director, Sensepoint Design; Stephanie Gallo, chief marketing officer, E. & J. Gallo; Bobby Stuckey, Master Sommelier and partner, Frasca Food and Wine; and Susana Balbo, founder and winemaker, Susana Balbo Wines.
The desire to host such a panel first inspired the Be The Change initiative. During a call six weeks ago, the four founders discussed planning a round table with the “biggest influencers in the business,” in which they would highlight the changes they’re making for diversity and inclusion, RNDC’s Bouvier explains.
But during their call, Be The Change’s founders realized another equally pressing challenge brought on by the coronavirus pandemic needed to be addressed. “You have all these beautiful platforms that represent diversity, and [organizations] that are giving out scholarships and doing amazing things — but nobody has a job,” Bouvier says.
At that moment, the group realized they could tackle both unemployment and lack of diversity by hosting the virtual job fairs.
Bouvier emphasizes that Be The Change can not guarantee recruitment from its events. Still, the initiative will provide a bridge between diverse candidates and companies looking to improve on diversity in a manner that hasn’t existed before, she says.
The job fairs represent just the first step in Be The Change’s plans. The initiative’s long-term aim is to achieve legislative change regarding DEI, which it will begin lobbying for in 2021.
“Our goal is to level the playing field once for all,” Bouvier says.
The article Leading Female Wine Professionals Launch Diversity and Inclusion Initiative, Be The Change appeared first on VinePair.
source https://vinepair.com/booze-news/be-the-change-diversity-inclusion-initiative/
source https://vinology1.wordpress.com/2020/10/29/leading-female-wine-professionals-launch-diversity-and-inclusion-initiative-be-the-change/
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