this is what our tuesday nights look like

2

The GOP warmed to investigating Flynn and Russia. That just got more complicated for them.

  • Michael Flynn’s resignation, over a phone call with Russia’s ambassador to the U.S. Sergey Kislyak, gave Republicans on Capitol Hill an opening on Russia.
  • Flynn’s resignation from his position as President Donald Trump’s national security adviser opened the door to calls for an investigation.
  • That Flynn was a bad apple, not that the administration was a bad bunch, gave Hill Republicans some wiggle room, and they began to writhe through.
  • Sen. Majority Leader Mitch McConnell acknowledged Tuesday that an investigation into Flynn’s ties with Russia was “highly likely.” (CNN)
  • “I think the fundamental question for us is what is our involvement in it, and who ought to look at it,” McConnell said. Other Republican senators, including members of the Senate intelligence committee and the body’s ranking member, called for a probe.
  • Then things changed on Tuesday night. The bad apple dynamic that allowed Republicans to limit the investigation to Flynn got harder to maintain. Read more (2/15/17 8:36 AM)
Good Girl Ch 22: First Time (M)

He lays me on his bed, my dress already discarded the minute we entered the room, leaving me in my white bra and underwear. A handsome grin spreads across his face, “Tao had the right idea putting that on you.” Next thing to go is his shirt, followed by his sweatpants before he begins crawling up his bed to get to me. “You look so beautiful like this.” I find myself blushing under his intense gaze as he is leaning over me. His arms are on either side of my head, his hips are in between my legs. “I’m going to go slow so you tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

I nod. He leans in close, placing a soft kiss on my lips before making his way along my jaw, down my neck, and all over my chest. My heart is beating so fast I’m surprised he can’t hear. With one more kiss right in between my breasts he glances up at me as he uses the front clasp to remove the cloth in his way. With that gone he continues his sweet kisses that send electricity threw my body, making my lower half tingle. His mouth finds my right nipple, a small whimper leaves my mouth, something that makes the older man smile.

“That was beautiful, do it again,” He continues his sucking and nibbling on my breast before switching to the other one that has been neglected. More moans slip from my lips as I arch my back for more contact.

“Daddy that feels so good.” He goes lower and lower until his kisses reach my clothed womanhood. I squeak at the tingling sensation making him chuckle. My underwear is quickly removed giving him the access he wants.

“I love the way you taste,” He kitten licks my sensitive little bud and my hips buck up the wonderful sensation. His hands grip my hips tighter as he continues with his teasing. I whine, the older smirks, “What baby? I told you we were going slow.”

“But not this slow!”

“What do you want me to do baby? Fuck you up against the wall? You are too tight for that, I need to get you ready.”

“I am ready!”

He chuckles again, “Are you really baby?” He surprises me buy slipping a single finger into me making me clench. “Oh, you’re so wet, but still so tight, you gotta relax.” His finger moves in and out of me slowly at first before picking up the pace, a moan leaves my lips again. My walls clench tighter as he adds another finger, stretching me slightly. More pumping is followed by his tongue returning to my little button of nerves, no more kitten licks. I can’t help myself but to lace my fingers threw his hair, holding him to me.

“Daddy right there!” I groan, his fingers curl to reach my sweet spot making my toes curl at the tingling sensation. I let out small breathy moans, the knot in my stomach gets tighter and tighter as he continues to torture me with his pace. He adds another finger, filling me so good, the slight pain is bearable with him sucking on my bundle of nerves. Soon the stretch and the pleasure are gone, leaving me whimpering for more.

“Are you sure you’re ready baby?” He kisses his way back up my body, his lips find my quickly. I can taste myself on his lips as he kisses me deeply, trying not to leave any part of my mouth untouched. When he pulls away I nod, taking deep breaths to try and relax myself at least a little. “Use your words.”

“Yes daddy. I’m ready.”

With one more peck he quickly pulls a condom out of his bedside table and slipping it on before returning to his position in between my legs. He rests most of his weight on his elbows, my hands find his biceps and hold on for dear life as I feel his manhood at my entrance. Oh so slowly he pushes it in, my nails dig into his skin as my walls clench around him making him stop for a minute.

Threw grit teeth he growls out, “Baby, I need you to relax, you are so tight. I’m trying to go slow but if you keep this up I’m going to fuck you in the mattress until you can’t walk for a week.” His words soak me to the bone but I force myself to take a few deep breaths to ease the tension surrounding his member. He continues his intrusion, stretching me more and more until tears are pricking in my eyes at the burning pain. My bottom lip is in between my teeth, keeping me from letting out the small cries that are trying to slip out of my mouth. “I will make you feel so good baby, don’t cry, the pain will go away, I promise.” He kisses the tears that had slipped down my cheek.

His face is in the crook of my neck when he is fully in me, he is fisting the sheets on either side of my head, doing his best to control himself. After a minute or two, when the burning feeling subsides I take another deep breath before saying, “Move.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes daddy, move.”

Just as slowly as he pushed in, he pulls out, then back in, out, in, out, in. Just as I begin to think he was lying about the pain, he grinds himself into me, hitting the same spot from before. I moan, “Oh fuck.”

“Found it,” He chuckles before doing it again, only harder. His pace continues to be agonizingly slow; the tightening knot in my belly needs a little more. I let my hands travel down to my breasts, but I only squeeze them once before my hands are pinned above my head and he thrusts into me hard, hitting that spot just right.

“Daddy!” I basically scream in pleasure.

“I told you baby, no touching yourself. The only thing that will be making you cum is me,” Another thrust, “Understand?”

“Yes!” I groan.

“Good girl,” He smirks. “Now tell me baby, how does it feel?”

“It’s feels so good.”

“Should I go faster?”

I nod, too focused on his hips grinding against mine.

He stop moving, balls deep, he growls, “Answer me.”

“Please daddy.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me faster.”

He chuckles, “You have such a dirty mouth. I’m not fucking you baby, remember that. This is making love. I’m not touching you completely out of lust, I’m doing this to prove how much I love you. To remind you that you belong to us, that you will never be leaving, understand?”

A blush spreads across my face at his words and his hip movements, “Daddy…” I groan as he picks up his pace. Our fingers are interlocked above my head, I hold on tighter as he begins to ram into me, making me scream in pleasure. “Daddy!”

“I want you to scream my name as you cum baby, yell it for everyone to here so they all know that I’m the first to make you completely mine,” He groans in my ear as his thrusts become faster and sloppier. My breathless moans fill the room along with his almost animalistic groans until the knot in both of us finally bursts.

“Xiumin!”

………………………………

“I’m gonna kill him!” I hear Kris whisper. I don’t open my eyes just yet as I try to remember where exactly I am. Xiumin’s room. Oh yeah, I lost my virginity to Xiumin last night after I busted in crying about how no one likes me, god I’m stupid. But oh my god that was so good. Never in my life did I imagine loosing my virginity would feel that good.

“At least it wasn’t Jiyong,” Suho pipes in. Why are they all in here? It’s Wednesday, don’t they have work or something, shit, I have school. But that isn’t enough to convince me to get out of bed. It actually makes me dive deeper into Xiumin’s embrace.

“I’m jealous,” Luhan whines, I can hear the pout in his voice.

“You should just shut up and get out before you wake her up,” Xiumin growls, turning his head to glare at his younger brothers.

“Were you gentle with her?” Lay worries, making me laugh. Oh daddy Lay, always so cute.

“He was very nice, don’t worry,” I chime in peeking out from the covers.

“Do you hurt anywhere?” He comes around to the edge of the bed to look at me.

“I haven’t really moved at all, and given the option I would prefer not to for awhile.”

Xiumin tightens his grip around me, “I can agree with that.”

“How was your night out?” Chen asks with a kind smile, of course he is the one to ask a question not related to my lost virginity, thank you Chenchen.

“It was really fun, I forgot what it was like to go out with friends, it feels like it was another life.”

“I’m happy you had fun,” Suho sighs, “It’s going to become a regular thing now.”

“What?” The whole room, including me, yells.

“Jiyong has made the request, but it was definitely a demand, to get you every Tuesday night until further notice.” The room busts out in complaints and cuss words and lots of things I’m sure I was not supposed to catch. “Everyone calm down,” Suho yells firmly. “This isn’t up for discussion, that is unless our baby doesn’t want to do it.” They all look at me.

I shrug, “I have no issue with it. I like talking to him.”

“So you like him better than us?” Sehun huffs.

“No I do not like him better than you. It’s just nice to have a friend I can talk about this kind of stuff with. I can’t ask Jihyo about any of this, Jiyong is a really good listener and he gives good advice. I want to keep hanging out with him.”

They let out a loud whiny sigh, “Fine,” Kai decides, “I guess we can’t fight it as long as she is happy.”

“Now that that is settled,” I smile before snuggling back into Xiumin’s chest.

“No, school,” Suho reminds me.

“But Dad!” I whine.

“She’s staying,” Xiumin decides holding me tighter.

“We’re calling in sick today?” Chanyeol grins before slipping in bed behind me.

“Ya! Get out,” Xiumin tries to kick Chanyeol off the bed.

“Leave him alone,” I swat at the older, rolling over to lay against the warm giant.

“No, no, no, my baby,” Xiu whines.

Luhan climbs up the bed to get in between Xiumin and I, successfully almost knocking the older out of the bed, “You get her all the time Hyung, we want some time with her.”

“Dog pile!” Baekhyun declares as he charge the bed with Chen, Kai and Sehun tailing him. I can’t help but laugh as chaos breaks out and I’ve never been so thankful for Xiumin helping me get my underwear back on last night as the blanket is ripped away. People are kicking and laughing and Kris is swearing as he joins the fight. My insides tingle at the chaotic scene going on in front of me, never in my life have I felt so warm and happy.

They are such idiots.

Old drabble prompt is so old, I don’t even know where it is anymore or who sent it.

14. First Kiss 15. Shooting Star msr

It was rare, but not unheard of, for Scully to go at a case with the same rabid fervor as Mulder usually did.  Even when things got frustrating, she remained steadfast and determined, but calm.  For her to show up at Mulder’s door on a Saturday night with a file in her hand was not quite as event-equivalent as Haley’s Comet, but it occurred about as often as one saw a shooting star.

Mulder let her in with a surprised look on his face.  She wore a sheepish, but determined expression, apologizing for the late hour at the same time she charged towards his couch to spread open the file in her hand.  He sat down beside her and tried to listen to what she had to say, but he was caught off guard by her casual attire.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’s seen her in jeans and a t-shirt.  Her tennis shoes squeaked against his floor.

An hour later, there were no new answers or theories and Scully was no less frustrated.  Mulder put a hand on the center of her back when she sighed.  

“We’ll catch a break,” he said.  “Just not tonight.  The answer will be in the tox screen.  I’m sure of it.”

Scully sighed again and Mulder’s hand drifted down her back just as she stretched her arms up over her head.  Her t-shirt rode up and suddenly his fingertips were brushing skin.  He froze, not sure of what to do.  It felt silly to pull away, like touching her was somehow distasteful, and he didn’t want to offend.  But, it also felt wrong to linger where he wasn’t invited.

Unconsciously, Mulder’s hand slid to Scully’s hip as she lowered her arms and adjusted her shirt.  She cleared her throat and he moved his arm back, embarrassed by the obvious awkwardness of the gesture.

“May I use your bathroom?” Scully asked.

“Of course.”

As Scully disappeared into his bedroom, Mulder fell back against the couch and put his hands over his face.  He felt like an idiot.  Actually, he felt like an inexperienced teenager instead of an adult man.  He loved Scully, no doubt about it, but letting himself lust after her was a different matter altogether.  Thinking about the warmth and softness of her skin under his fingers made all the feelings he kept suppressed bubble to the surface.  He pushed himself up from the couch and moved towards his bedroom.

Determined, and not paying attention, Mulder bumped into Scully in the doorway of his bedroom and they both grunted in surprise.  He grabbed her hips to steady her and she rubbed her nose where she’d hit his chest.  They ended up sideways, Scully’s back against the doorframe.

“Sorry,” he said.  “I wasn’t…”

“S’okay,” she answered, running the side of one knuckle up and down the bridge of her nose.
“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

As though they had a mind of their own, his thumbs slid under the edge of her t-shirt and followed the lines of her hip bones where he held her.  It felt strange to touch her like that, but he wanted to so badly.

Scully’s lips parted as she sucked in a breath and her back arched, just a little.  Her arms swung down to grip both sides of the doorframe as though she was catching herself from falling.  Half her face was kept in shadow from his dark room and the other half was dimly lit from the low lamplight across the living area, but he could still see the stain of heat in her cheeks.

Mulder’s mouth felt dry and he knew he should say something, but he was completely tongue-tied.  He swallowed nervously and Scully’s eyes dropped to his mouth.  Her jaw moved a little as though she was about to speak, but she didn’t.  He tipped his head and lowered it towards her and she looked up at him as he descended.

Just as his lips touched hers, she tensed and squeezed the doorframe as she murmured his name.  He paused and pulled back just a fraction as she turned her cheek.

“Wait,” she said.

He took his hands off her, embarrassed, and took a step back.  “Sorry, I just…”

“No, I…”  She finally let go of the door and stood a little taller as she reached up to him, hesitating for a moment before holding his face lightly.  He put one hand above her head and leaned towards her.

“Scully?”  

She pulled his head down a little and stretched her neck up.  Their mouths came together and apart and then together again, longer this time, and then parted once more.

“This is weird,” she whispered, mouth brushing his as she spoke.

“Well, I’m weird,” he answered, huffing out a nervous chuckle.  “And so are you.”  

“Put your hands back on me.”

He put one hand back on her hip and let his arm fall from over her head to rest the other one on the other side.  Her thumbs ran across his cheekbones, back and forth, back and forth.  Very slowly, he moved his hands up under her shirt to circle her waist, just below her ribs.  She was so warm.  So warm and soft.  Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips and he bent his head again to chase it back into her mouth.  She answered with a whimpering sigh and he leaned his body into her to press her fully against the doorjamb.

Mulder couldn’t estimate the length of their next kiss, but it seemed infinite.  The gurgle of his fish tank was muted by the wet smack of their lips and their harsh, uncontrollable breathing.  At some point, her arms became twined around his neck and he pulled her from the door to lock her in the tight circle of his arms.  He could feel her shifting against him, on tip-toe, fighting to hold herself up.  Finally, reluctantly, he softened his mouth and pulled away slowly, easing her down while still keeping her in his embrace.

“Um,” she said.

“Wow?” he replied.

She shyly dropped her head, but he caught the corners of her mouth lifting into a smile.  Her head bumped against his chest and he loosened his grip on her to reach up and stroke her hair from the back of her head down past her neck, hand over hand.

“I should go,” she said.

“You could stay,” he answered.

She shook her head and then looked up at him.  He rested his arms on her shoulders and rubbed her hair between her fingers before he nodded and let go of her.  She slipped past him and went to his couch to collect the file she’d brought over.

“So, um,” she said, not looking at him again.  “I think…”

“Dinner?” he asked.  “Tomorrow night?  Or next week sometime?”

“We should get the tox screen back on Tuesday.”

“Monday night, then?”

“And if you’re right about those samples…”

“Our hands are tied until Wednesday.”

“Or we could do brunch tomorrow.”

“Sure.”  Mulder brushed his finger under Scully’s chin so she would pick her head up and look at him.  She lifted her eyes to his, looked away, and then lifted them again.

“The case is…the case is our priority,” she said.

He nodded.  “What time should I pick you up?”

“Like a date?”

“Yes.”

She hesitated.  “The lab still could call tomorrow if they find something.  Even though it’s Sunday.”

“How’s eleven?”

“Okay.”

“Even if they find something, there’s still not much we can do right now.”

“I know, but it’s…frustrating.”

He nodded in agreement and then reached out to give a small tug at one of the belt loops on her jeans.  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?  It’s late.”

Boldly, he slipped his thumb up under her shirt again and ghosted over that smooth, silky skin once more.  Five minutes ago he wouldn’t have dared to touch her so familiarly and confidently, but that was before he’d kissed her.  Now, he owned that spot on her hip where the bone sloped so elegantly down into as yet mysterious and uncharted territory, but he had a feeling he was soon going to be able to take possession of that too.

“Night, Scully,” he said.

Scully hugged the file close with one hand and she pressed the other hand to his chest, palm flat.  Her eyes were wide.  Terrified.  He took his hand off her hip and covered hers against his chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.

She nodded in sharp, jerking motions with her head.  He smiled and ran his hand down her arm, blazing a trail of gooseflesh in his wake.  Before he stepped away, he pushed her hair away and skimmed the back of her ear with his fingertips as he tucked it back from her face.  She glanced back once at him before she left with just the faintest hint of a smile.  He knew tomorrow was going to be a good day.

The End

The Good People Of A Good Town

An idea destroyed my hometown. It wasn’t a natural disaster or an illness or any other rational, terrible-but-reasonable thing. It was an idea, and it started with Netty Carter.

She was my seventh grade science teacher, a woman who had obviously seen her life taking a very different path than the one she’d ended up on. She dressed like a slightly more conservative Marilyn Monroe, wore her bottle blonde hair in short curls, and was forever applying new layers of bubblegum pink lipstick in the middle of her lectures. The boys (and, admittedly, a few of their dads) were quite fond of her.

The girls (and, admittedly, a few of their moms), far less so.

Keep reading

The #KentuckyDerby has a dress code like nothing else in sports, and to help our members dress the part, we’re hosting pre-race events at our Clubhouses every night next week. Here’s what you can look forward to by stopping in:

Monday April 18th: Bourbon Night
Tuesday April 19th: Scotch Tastings
Wednesday April 20th: Derby Hat
Thursday April 21st: Beer Tastings
Friday April 22nd: Custom by trunkclub

I will be up all night painting this acrylic disaster but when I’m done it ends a long streak of all nighters and non stop physical and emotional exhaustion…. I am using my Tuesday off for some much much much needed self care including doing laundry for the first time in what seems like a century n getting our apartment looking n smelling fresh

love stories N16 (inspired by medicine)

He was my medicine. 

In the cold winter nights when I wanted nothing more than to wither away, he held me close and pressed his nose into my hair at the back of my neck, calming me down with the rise of his chest. He’d kiss me remind me of all of everything I love in life. 

He’d take me out into the street at two in the morning in the pitch black and we’d slow dance in the middle of the road because no one drove down our street at that time of night. He’d press me into his body and I’d rest my head on his shoulder and he would hum a tune under his breath for us to dance to. When the weather turned cold we’d go scarf shopping and I always picked the fluffiest scarves for him, which he happily wore. We’d go grocery shopping together, picking up the most random items off the shelves. He’d drag me to his band rehearsals where I’d sit in the corner with my book and chew on my fingernail as they practiced. Afterwards, we’d go have Chinese food and wine, and if we were feeling particularly extravagant, a movie. 

But most of the time, we’d spend the nights walking the streets of London or curled up at home in bed. He loved to hear me read aloud books, so most of the time I got roped into that. He’d hand me a book and I’d read and read and read until his eyes were shut and his breathing even, and then I’d peel off his sock and his pants and I’d pull the covers up over us and sleep and sleep and sleep.

I met him on the tube early in the morning on a Tuesday. 

I’d been out all night and looked like shit, nursing a cup of coffee and a freshly broken heart. He sat down across from me with the morning paper in his hands, and I could tell he wasn’t reading a word. I could tell because I wasn’t looking down at my coffee anymore. I was looking at him. Our eyes locked and we stared at each other for the duration of the subway ride. We passed stops and neither of us got off. We rode the train for what felt like hours. People got on and off, but we, we stayed. 

When the sun had risen above the city I decided I needed to sleep, and so did he. Because when I got up, so did he. He followed me up the stairs of tube station and to the coffee shop below my apartment four blocks from the station. 

“What do you want?” I asked him, turning around.

He smiled. “To kiss you,” he said.

“Then do it already,” I said.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between us, and cradled my chin in his gloved hand. Our lips met and I could feel the wind blowing around us but nothing else registered because my entire mind, body, and soul was consumed with this kiss. His right hand wound around my waist and pulled me into him and I laced my fingers behind his neck. I lost myself in his touch, the way his lips felt on mine like fall leaves and spring sunshine and cold biting wind and summer nights all mixed into one. 

My entire life I dreamed of falling in love the way I fell in love with him. All at once. My thoughts were consumed by him, my dreams filled with his face, his touch, his words, his kisses. When I was with him I was on Cloud Nine, my mind separate from my body. But at the same time, he grounded me. He taught me to slow my breathing, to count when it felt like everything was crashing down around me, that people loved me and I wasn’t alone, that the world was beautiful even though it slaps you around every once and a while. He showed me the light in the darkness I had created for myself. 

I twine my fingers in his and he looks over at me with a smile. I fell in love with that smile the second I saw it - dimples and a twinkle in his tired eyes. 

I fell in love with the little things he did. The way he called his little brother every Sunday night at nine PM, no matter where we were, he’d call. How he’d only buy specific brands of wine. How he wore only black and white. How he loved to walk in silence, just me and him. He loved breakfast, especially when he got to make it in a pair of low-rise jeans with me perched on the counter sipping coffee. I fell for the way he strummed his guitar every night before bed, random notes and snippets of lyrics as I brushed my teeth and washed my face, waiting for me to join him. 

I fell in love with the way he touched me. Tenderly. As if I would crack beneath his calloused fingertips, but I never did. I fell in love with the way he swooped me into his arms after a night or two away and he recounted every detail of his day when he got home. How he asked about my day and listened attentively, staring in to my eyes just as he did on the tube all those mornings ago. I loved how he looked at the world too. As if it were his own personal playground and he was going to visit every corner of it and meet every person and experience everything he possibly could. 

Sometimes, I was awe struck by him. By his mind. His thoughts. His words. His tenderness. His laughter. His kisses. Sometimes I’d lay awake when he was gone and recreate his body next to mine, centimeter by centimeter. I’d remember how his hands felt when they held me while he slept. How he kissed my eyelids when he thought I was asleep. The secrets he whispered in the early morning. The few times he said he wanted to marry me. 

He was my medicine. I was his. We healed each other, piece by piece. Heart by heart. He cured my doubt, I showed him hope. We fit together like puzzle pieces when we walked, and our laughter mixed in the wind to create one sole note that sung through the trees. 

That’s why leaving him was the hardest. Because I felt like half of a whole that only he completed. It was the hardest thing I had to do, and it broke me every single time.

Loving him made up for it though. The smiles, the kisses in middle of the road, curling into his side on our bed. Laughter and our own personal array of jokes. Loving him made up for all of the hard parts, because it was my favorite thing to do. 

See you next tuesday

I usually work at the library on Tuesday nights.

Recently, a family started coming in during this shift. Mom, Dad, little girl, little boy.

The first time I saw them, they asked if they could go out to the porch and eat their dinner. The food was in big Dunkin Donuts bags, so I’m not sure if it was actually Dunkin Donuts or if it was leftovers or what. We said, sure that was no problem, and my co-worker and I exchanged a puzzled and… slightly judgy look.

Tonight they were back and asked if we had a craft or something for the kids to do. 
The mom explained that their old library had a craft station set up all the time in the children’s department, with materials and directions for a simple craft that the kids could take and do with parental help, as well as a space to display their work when they were done.

We don’t have anything like that, so I fetched some paper and crayons. The mom pulled a discarded test print of a flyer from our recycling bin and asked for scissors so they could cut out the owls on it. Again, I found myself surprised, a little judgy and increasingly annoyed at the things I was being asked to collect so they could do a craft that wasn’t on the plan for tonight and why didn’t they just come to programs like other people?

While the mom helped the kids, and they laughed and talked about their day, the dad sat an entire table away and played on his phone. He didn’t once interact with the kids. This annoyed me even more because of reasons.

Then they left to step outside for a snack and she asked if I could watch their things, that they’d be right back.

My internal monologue said, “it’s almost 7:00pm, why are you snacking? Have you eaten dinner? Why can’t you snack once you’re done?” My annoyance grew.

After they came back, the mom said something about “next tuesday night” and I realized that I had seen them pretty regularly on the tuesday nights I’d worked.

And I just… decided to not be annoyed.

I decided that it was actually pretty awesome that in the midst of what I can pretty safely assume is a crazy week, this family takes Tuesday nights to GO TO THE PUBLIC LIBRARY. They go to the library to make some pretty stuff, look at some books, and be together.

And I thought, maybe the mom works a couple jobs and can’t bring them to most of our programs. Maybe they can’t afford craft supplies, or they live with their grandma who doesn’t like messes, or a million other reasons.

Or maybe none of those reasons matter because we should be here to serve everyone and that doesn’t just mean the stay-at-home moms who come to story time every week.

I realized I should be freaking happy that out of the many choices of things to do, this family chooses week after week to come to the library.

So I offered to try and have a simple craft prepared for them to do next week, since I’m usually here anyway. Because, is it really that much of a bother to print out some templates and cut some construction paper? Is it really that big of a deal for me to gather some supplies to have for a family to make things together? And even if it was, it doesn’t matter because I’m here to serve our patrons. All our patrons.

When I mentioned to the mom that I’d try to have something for them to do the next week, she stopped and she looked at me and she smiled and said, “Wow, that would be so cool. Thank you so much.”

While I was busy being annoyed that she was annoyed that we didn’t do everything exactly like her old library, I forgot that she was communicating a need, that she was telling me something they’d like and they’d do if we offered it and that probably other people would too. She has a right to want services from her library. Even though I can’t create a craft station or change the rule about putting art on the walls, what I can do is spend 15 minutes at the beginning of my night putting together something for them to make. With that offer she was immediately willing to meet me halfway. In an instant I became an ally and not an obstacle.

Because I decided to stop being annoyed with them.

She wrangled the kids into their coats. The dad (or boyfriend maybe, he didn’t look much like the kids) finally looked up from his phone.

She gathered their things and told the kids to say “Bye.”

“See you next Tuesday!”

You read that right. It’s time to make our favourite non-existent being visible again!

April 6th-April 10th is Marcus Vansten Appreciation Week!

Feel free to participate in any way you’d like! Cosplay, writing, art, anything is game!

Monday, April 6th: Headcanon day

Show us what you imagine Marcus to look like! 

Tuesday, April 7th: Transformation day

We heard what Marcus’s transformation into an Erika form looked like through Cecil’s words. But what’s your take on it? What’s it like going from a well-known billionaire to virtually invisible?

Wednesday, April 8th: DB!Marcus day

Everyone in Night Vale has a double. Who is Marcus’s?

Thursday, April 9th: Ship day

There are tons of ships to choose from, but who (if anyone) do you ship Marcus with?

Friday, April 10th: AU day

Everyone has a favourite AU. From the classic High School scenario to a gritty apocalyptic saga, tell us about your favourite AU and what role does Marcus play in it?

If you’d like to participate, use the tag #marcusappreciationweek

Let’s give our favourite angelic billionaire some love! ~gilded-billionaire

Troye Sivan on moving beyond YouTube to pop radio: 'That's what I want'

Mikael Wood

Singer Troye Sivan may be an established YouTube star with millions of subscribers, but recently while rehearsing for his first major tour, the digital celebrity looked anything but a seasoned veteran.

Running through his song “Happy Little Pill” in a North Hollywood studio, the 20-year-old stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and messed with his hair, clearly unsure what to do with his body as he sang. Later, a stage manager instructed him on the basics of returning for an encore.

“This whole thing is definitely out of my comfort zone,” Sivan said. “But I’m getting more and more comfortable with it every day.”

In the pre-digital age, such performances would’ve been crucial to developing the kind of devoted audience that Sivan has already built online. He’s been making YouTube videos since he was 12, and now the baby-faced artist from Perth, Australia, speaks to millions more on Twitter, where he holds forth in bite-sized installments on food, sex and Taylor Swift (after she tweeted her endorsement of his song “Wild”).

As modern a pop star as you’ll find, Sivan still had to push himself this month during preparations for his road show, which launched last week and stops for sold-out concerts Thursday at the Roxy and Friday at the Lyric Theatre. The tour — along with Sivan’s upcoming debut album, “Blue Neighbourhood” — reflects his desire to turn a YouTube following into the real-world kind.

Watch Troye Sivan’s “Fools” (Blue Neighbourhood Part 2/3).

“I know people with 10 million subscribers on YouTube,” he said after the rehearsal. Wearing a baggy denim shirt over super-skinny black jeans, Sivan sat on a lumpy sofa as he picked at a container of takeout Vietnamese food. “But pop radio? To reach that many people — that’s what I want.”

He isn’t the first Internet personality to attempt such a crossover. But for every Justin Bieber there are countless strivers whose skills have proved unexportable.

Sivan seems more likely than most to break through thanks in part to his proud identification as a “young, openly gay artist” writing “songs about loving boys,” as he described himself and his work. It’s a role that deepens his connection with his fans and gives his music a cultural weight not unlike that of Grammy-winning Sam Smith (who recently wrote on Instagram that Sivan’s voice “does things to my body”). Beyond that, Sivan has the kind of old-fashioned songwriting talent that drove musicians to success in earlier times.

“Troye is like the friend you have who one day sits down at the piano and starts playing, and you’re, like, ‘Oh my God, you’re amazing,’” said Jack Antonoff, the songwriter and producer known for his work with Swift and Sara Bareilles. Antonoff co-wrote and produced Sivan’s song “Heaven” and called the singer “someone who’s meant to be doing this.”

“This whole thing is definitely out of my comfort zone. But I’m getting more and more comfortable with it every day.”
- Troye Sivan

Due Dec. 4 from Capitol Records, “Blue Neighbourhood,” which follows a pair of impressive EPs, is full of shimmering electro-pop textures and disarmingly intimate lyrics, such as this line in his song “Fools” about his and his boyfriend’s differing tastes in deodorant: “You like stick, and I like aerosol.”

“I feel really safe saying whatever I want to say in the music,” Sivan said, one happy artistic result of his having documented nearly half his life on YouTube.

Years before he took to the video-sharing site, Sivan started singing at his synagogue around age 8 and was soon booking gigs at corporate events as a “little boy soprano” doing Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli songs. The experience opened his eyes to the idea of being an artist, but it wasn’t until he wrote his first song — a response to the hit YA novel “The Fault in Our Stars” — that music felt like “a passion,” he recalled. The track, which went viral online, also got him signed to his record label.

For “Blue Neighbourhood,” much of which he wrote and recorded in L.A. with collaborators including Emile Haynie and Bram Inscore, Sivan said he was less interested in demonstrating his vocal power (though it’s certainly there) than in “making you feel the emotion in the music.” He took sonic inspiration from albums such as Lorde’s “Pure Heroine” and Frank Ocean’s “Channel Orange,” “where there’s more than one layer to what’s going on in a song,” he said.

Even so, tunes like “Wild” and “Heaven” have an immediacy that stands up to popular Top 40 fare.

“We were definitely focusing on hooks,” said Alex Hope, an Australian producer and songwriter who worked on the album. “'Is this going to sound cool when you’re driving around with the windows down?’ That was always on our minds.”

The combination gives “Blue Neighbourhood” a powerfully relatable quality. In spite of his quick wit and his good looks, Sivan’s appeal is to some degree an Everyguy thing — the way he makes you feel as though you’ve been invited into his head (which, it turns out, is just like yours).

“You tell me what is stopping me from eating this tub of salsa in bed,” he tweeted, along with a photo of said tub, after his Seattle concert last week.

Yet increasingly Sivan is also looked upon as a leader. At a screening of his new music video Tuesday night at Hollywood Forever Cemetery, one visibly nervous fan asked the singer for guidance on how to square his sexuality with his religion.

Regarding his “obligation to the cause,” as he put it, Sivan said he feels fortunate to be in a position to provide whatever help he can to young people struggling to come out.

“I turned to the Internet when I needed it,” he said, adding that he watched “nearly every coming-out video on YouTube” before he made the move himself at 15. “Now I have a lot of Twitter followers, so I can give back as someone who’s on the other side.”

Mike Flynn, an A&R executive at Capitol, said he’s counting on those followers’ devotion — the “army,” he calls them — to help convince gatekeepers in the music industry that Sivan is worthy of their attention.

“Our thinking is, Let’s build the story to the point where KIIS-FM can’t say no,” Flynn said, referring to the influential L.A. pop station. “We want [programmers’] kids to be, like, 'Mom, Dad — Troye’s the biggest thing in the world. You’re missing out.’”

In the rehearsal room, Sivan said he has a long way to go before he cracks the music business like he cracked YouTube. But he’s getting the idea of how things work.

“I can be mentioned now in the same sentence as Taylor Swift,” he said. “That’s, like, what!?”