#LOOK AT DAT CLEVER NAME

[vidavalor]

How do you think the Ineffable Husbands reacted to the 1914 Christmas Armistice?

Also, it is autumn now and very cloudy and soggy, so here is a seasonally-appropriate recipe: https://www.hairybikers.com/recipes/view/caramelised-apple-cheesecake

Aw, a recipe! You're lovely. 😊 That looks amazing!

I envy you being in one firm season over there. September is a transition month here in New England. Half-summer, half-fall. It's very strange, though, not terrible. One day is lemonade and watermelon and the next is where's my blanket? and I need an apple something and looking up what day Bake Off starts to air over here. Another week, though, and it'll be pretty much fall from here on out. Definitely going to make that cheesecake. 😊

I think they probably reacted to the Christmas Armistice the same way many of us do when we learn about it-- that it's both beautiful and morbidly depressing at once. It showed people coming together to express a sense of shared humanity but then they went back to killing one another afterwards. It wasn't a new story for Crowley and Aziraphale because they had seen that in people all throughout history but I'm sure they found the same mix of hopefulness and sadness in it that a lot of people do.

The one who understands what it takes to bring about peace now best in the series is actually Gabriel, imho. It's because he understood the deeper meaning of Sandalphon's words that Sandalphon didn't actually understand himself: "you can't have a war without war."

Some short thoughts on ties between war, frozen peas, and one of my favorite of Agnes Nutter's prophecies beneath the cut.

When Sandalphon said: "you can't have a war without war", what he meant was: "Look how clever I think I am to use this word twice in two ways in one sentence! You can't have a war without War: The Character! Mirelle Enos is playing a character that shares a name with large-scale killing and destruction and I pointed it out! I'm so smart!"

Gabriel, though, heard the potential of bigger ideas: "You can't have a war (a large-scale military conflict) without war (people willing to fight in a war and, also, a person's inner struggle leading them to be willing to fight in war)."

Meaning: A war can only happen if people are willing to fight the war.

Meaning: No soldiers, no war.

Gabriel knew Aziraphale heard it like that, too, and was like lol Aziraphale, this guy thinks he's a poet omg let me flatter him enough that he won't notice that I just tried to help you sell more erotica and didn't murder you for having a lover and then we'll get out of here...

Gabriel saying that he "might use that one day" about what Sandalphon says is a line that-- delightfully-- ages quite differently the more we get to know Gabriel.

We know he said it in that moment to make it sound like he was telling Sandalphon that what Sandalphon had said was just so profound that Gabriel was tempted to use it himself... but we also know that Gabriel is neither as dumb nor as vapid as he strategically lets people think he is and that he understood the deeper way of looking at what Sandalphon said more than Sandalphon did.

Looking back on it, it's Gabriel actually joking about mutinying in front of Heaven's most fervent Metatron-worshipping fascist in a way that is very much going over Sandalphon's head. Gabriel is all can't have a war without war-- yeah, true dat, Stasi a Fond. I'm slowly losing it over here and my favorite fantasy is just peacing out entirely of this whole 'Commander of The Heavenly Host' shit and wouldn't that really completely eff up The Ineffable Plan? Oh, my secret daydream... if only I could...

Then, what happens, though, by the end of S1?

Gabriel sees a kid do just that.

The eleven year old spawn of Satan is all yeah, no, you can't have a war without war. I don't want to start a war. I like the world. I've got enough on my plate dealing with my own life-- I don't want to rule over everyone. I want everyone to feel at peace and be happy and take care of each other.

Gabriel was freaked out because of the consequences of this and the fact that he, at the the time, thought The Metatron might kill him for failing to start Armageddon but, after the day was over and Gabriel had a moment to breathe and think about it, you can't tell me he didn't hear Adam saying that it was too much pressure to be in charge of every other living being in existence and he just wanted to chill with the people he liked and live his own life in peace and let everyone else do that, too and think to himself:

Yeah, kid. Me too.

The dude who is told he's responsible for everyone in Heaven and who sees angels falling as partly his fault and whom the humans deify and to whom they make statues was like fucking hell, the little antichrist brat was right.

He realized that it's not about Armageddon, it's about living and building a life until you have all the world you need. It's about what Crowley and Aziraphale have been trying to do and about what he and Beez were as well. Gabriel's proposal to Beez is a simple one:

What if, instead of Armageddon, there was no Armageddon?

What if, instead of war, there's no war?

So, he ended up fulfilling his own prophecy a bit when the one day came when he used what Sandalphon said-- just not in the way that Sandalphon meant it but in the way that Gabriel himself and Aziraphale heard it: you can't have a war without war... no war exists if enough people refuse to fight it.

That's the way to stop Armageddon.

Gabriel came to realize that the best thing he could do as a leader in Heaven and commander of its armed forces was to refuse to fight, come what may. He quits the army and defects to the embassy of the only independent country that exists in the supernatural world: the United States of Crowley and Aziraphale.

As Agnes said:

...the calm cometh when Redde and Whyte and Black and Pale approache to Peas is Our Professioune.

In this case: Redde/Red (Crowley), Whyte/White (Aziraphale), Black (Beez), Pale (Gabriel). To profess: to state. Peas = the talking of frozen peas because homophone: peace.

The calm cometh when Crowley, Aziraphale, Beez and Gabriel talk and each get closer to their own peace and to peace with one another and help each other to spread that mentality throughout all those willing in Heaven and Hell and Earth.

That's what you feed the other ducks-- your frozen peas. Your own stuff that is disturbing your own inner peace and creating inner wars and small-scale conflicts that, if left unchecked, can build into larger-scale ones.

If you break that shit down and talk about it, there needn't be any war.

Sometimes, it means shedding some armor, keeping an open mind, and admitting that you were wrong-- all things that can be difficult...

...especially for those are secretly tender-hearted but put up that armor to survive in worlds steeped in toxic masculinity...

...and, sometimes, it's maddening because people are scared and get set in their ways and do dumb shit and you have to upend power structures and reinforce more positive behaviors to get them to shut up long enough to start listening to one another...

...but the more who learn to unlearn the harmful stuff at the core of their own struggles and who open their minds up to listening to others, the more we're professing our peas to our fellow ducks and getting closer to peace within ourselves and within the world as a whole and that's what it's all about. It might always be approaching Peas is Our Professioune rather than a perfectly peaceful world but the point is the effort of the approach and to just keep making steady progress as much as we can while we're walking the Earth. After all...

[drifloonz]

how do u think steven would like.. try to be romantic. i figure hes an actions over words kinda guy but what sorta stuff would he say if he tried expressing his luv directly?

hmmm... good question tbh! ur right i do see him as actions over words. he likes to let his actions speak for him more than his words for sure, and i don't think he really likes to talk unless he's talked to first, yk? so i like to think he'd only be verbally affectionate if you initiated it first.

however, if u were far enough in a relationship w/ him i think he'd do it a liiiittle bit more often, but its just like.. really straightforward compliments if we're talking ""current"" time steven. like. "You look nice today." and not much else unless you respond with more specific flirts, compliments, w/e. his tone is often flat, but he means whatever he says genuinely, he's just sorta bad at .. communicating that? A for effort.

one way he likes to nonverbally show his love is just kissing you when you least expect it - tilting his head and planting a smooch on your cheek and seeing your reactions to it makes him smile a little. things like that. but basically everything he does is with only 3 possible people in mind. miki, you, or himself. usually all 3 or at least you and him. he likes cooking for you and getting baths/showers ready in advance for you too. making the bed for you... small little nice things that add up and show you how he cares. he doesn't really. have anything else to do, anyways.

he also doesn't really know how to initiate affectionate talk like that unless you do it first cuz then he has a sort of topic to go off of and usually tease you with. ( eg if you said he looked nice, he'd respond with like "Thanks, but you look way better." and smirk a little. he's better with quips and cynical/snarky/clever responses than he is with initiating any conversation, especially one like that. )

of course when he was a teenager, not fucked up, and neither of the people he knew with M names were dead, he had a bit more confidence to him, but he was still probably a little awkward with it bc. he was a teenager. like... coming up to your door with flowers, trying to impress your parent(s) to get in their good graces so he could take you out with minimal fuss from them, that sorta thing. very stereotypical semi-hopeless romantic who is hopelessly in love with you and will mostly show that through cheesy gestures.

and he was also more talkative back then. not like extremely, mike was still far more talkative and talked for him sometimes, but he talked like. a regular amnt back then since he was comfy and more confident - he was well known and liked in pallet town and eventually the rest of kanto ( at least for a while ) for reason - he was a good listener and also just was nice to talk to and often checked in on people and talked to them regularly, along with being a sort of older sibling figure along with mike to younger kids in pallet at the time. and also his charmander was rare and cool, which was a plus. living in a small town like pallet tends to make your social life like that, though - at least locally.

anyways, back then he'd prob say really stupid pick-up lines and it probably makes his partner cringe a little, but he still says things like that bc it gets a little snort and an elbow nudge from them, and he likes the way his partner laughs. very cheesy romantic boy. honest to god probably had a book full of pick-up lines and/or just made them himself and wrote them down in a book to use later on people.

unless they genuinely like cheesy compliments and pick-up lines, then he continues bc they like it. nowadays he might do that but like. rarely. and usually with the intention of irritating his partner bc not many people unironically like pick-up lines, at least to him.

anyways! yea. dats steven 4 u.

[gobind-631]

1.

“As an aside”..continues from previous..

[Section 4,Part 9]

[Creation date:17/1/2024..Happens to b Guru Gobind Singh Jayanti t’day]..

Me(again):

“Jaise ki maine pehle bhi kaha hai..aap ek bohot bade fan maloom hote hai.. inn western democracies(aur inke allies)ke..[khaas kar…uss US ke]

Chaliye..aap ko Iss US/America ki asliyat ke darshan karata hoon ab..(yani ki..ek aur tarike se..(phir se)…aap ko samjhane ki koshish karne wala hoon ab..yahan par)

Aap toh AI/ML/DL wale hote hai..umeed karta hoon ki aap ke paas Chatgpt ka latest(paid)version toh hoga hi.. hai kya?.. achcha hai?..chalo badiya hai..phir toh..

Apne iss do kaudi wale mobile handset ko pakdane ka(zara sa)kasht karenge aap?..kuch interesting sa dikhane walla hoon/jaa raha hoon..

[Toh chaliye..laiye..pakdaiye mujhe..apna yeh(do kaudi wala)mobile handset..kuch dikhane walla hoon ab]

Chalo start karte hai ab..yeh wala khel..pucca mazza ayega..tum dekhna..”

Me(again)[Resuming..after a brief break…had been trying out stuff on dis tool..so..]:

“No question/Clearly/easy to see..cut from a different cloth..dis ol’ boy’s been..[Although has been a lifetime/lifelong Republican..dis guy…yet has…???.. khair..]

BTW.. am talking about Mr Henry Alfred Kissinger here..(who?.. u may have been wondering..so..)”

****************

As an aside…

[**Bhailog.. jab main iss tool main..iss kisam ki/aisi exercise(below)perform kar raha tha/karne ja raha tha..tab uss waqt yeh mahanubhav zinda the.. unfortunately…ab ve iss duniya main nahi rahe..achanak se(hi) guzar gaye the..ab is main kya kiya ja sakta hai..hai na?..

Bhailog…u wanna completely know/understand dis person?..

[Quite simple/easy..n interesting too..dis l’il endeavour of yours..shall turn out to b..if u ask me/according to me..[ie..as n when/if at all..u ever decide to embark on dis kind of an exercise]

**All u really need to do then..is to Google a bit..here n there..dats all…(or try stuff out on dis AI tool)..

[***ie..try doing dis..in order to b able to/so ur able to truly understand/comprehend..d magnitude/scale/d kind of impact..he(most likely)has had/has caused(coz of his actions in d past)..on d global stage/at a geopolitical level.

Dis kind of an impact has to b everlasting/far reaching..if u ask me/according to me.

(**As have already mentioned(earlier)..had not perished then.. dis person..ie..when I’hd bought him/dis person up for discussion on dat day..but sadly has now)]

]

*************************

Me(again):”Look wat I’ve managed to discover..just now…using dis “blessed” tool of yours.

May d good Lord bless Sam Altman(and his tribe/ilk)..for all times to come.

Is exactly d kind of stuff..am sure..dat may end up pleasing u..no end..coz dis stuff..sorta validates/corroborates dis l’il pet theory of urs..(Since..he was a lifetime/lifelong Republican politician?)

[My l’il theory/proposition here is this:Be it a Democrat…or a Republican president..it doesn’t really matter.

America(and it’s allies)shall always end up gaming/manipulating d global community.. (By way of deploying/by deployment of/using clever mechanisations/crafty strategies/schemes..from time to time..on global platforms/on d global stage/at a geopolitical level).. and all dis..mostly gets done..only only ..wid d sole goal/aim/idea/intention of wanting to ultimately benefit self n d self only/alone.. (Read..all of dis gets done for d benefit of d US…n d US alone)..

Thus far..has very easily been able to pull off..quite a lot/all dis..dis US.

(ie..using dis cloak of/under d garb of being torchbearers of democracy ..(all)across d globe…all dis shady stuff..seems to have been quite easily handled/accomplished by it..thus far)

[Meaning/read..all dis gaming.. manipulation gets done in d name of/under d garb of global policing]..

**[So..all in all/in effect..can say..in d name of/under d garb of global policing..(seems)..has managed to pull off..quite a bit/lot..(thus far)..dis US of A]

**[My proposition here is that America and its allies..through their international policies /economic influence/Militarily might/technological superiority(and a possible influence..at d UN(and other such international/global bodies/platforms/forums))..will/shall always end up gaming the global community to their advantage]..”

****************

As an aside….

[Bhailog..am copy pasting(below)..all dat stuff from dis tool(meaning..all dat conversation between me and dis tool(dat revolved around Mr Henry Kissinger)…dis..am about to copy/paste now(below))

Am copy/pasting ..as is.(ie..without rectifying/correcting those typos/grammatical errors..etc..dat may have inadvertently happened(at/from my end)..when trying to converse wid dis tool..

So try n ignore these..wherever/as n when..u happen to notice/come across…dis kind of a thing/such errors]

So here it is..check it out.. pretty interesting all dis.. if u ask me..

**********************

L’il to/from.. between me and dis tool(Chatgpt)..

Me:

20 bullet points pls.. on some of d stuff..dis Mr Henry Kissinger stands directly/very pointedly accused of..[Coz of his past actions/coz of certain actions..dat can b directly attributed to him/performed by him..on d global stage/at a geopolitical level..(when in positions of responsibility..in his/d past)..dat have long been thought of as being scandalous(ie..of controversial variety)]…

Chatgpt:

Henry Kissinger, a prominent figure in international politics and diplomacy, especially during his tenure as U.S. Secretary of State and National Security Advisor in the 1970s, has faced various accusations and criticisms over his actions and decisions on the geopolitical stage. Here are 20 key points of contention:

1. **Bombing of Cambodia (1970-1973)**: Accused of illegal bombings in Cambodia during the Vietnam War, leading to civilian casualties and destabilization.

2. **1971 Bangladesh Liberation War**: Alleged support for Pakistan, ignoring human rights violations and a humanitarian crisis.

3. **1973 Chilean Coup**: Alleged involvement in the coup that overthrew Salvador Allende in Chile.

4. **Support for Dictatorial Regimes**: Accused of supporting oppressive regimes in Latin America, Africa, and Asia for strategic interests.

5. **East Timor Invasion (1975)**: Alleged complicity in Indonesia's invasion and subsequent human rights abuses in East Timor.

6. **Vietnam War Peace Negotiations**: Criticized for prolonging the Vietnam War for political leverage.

7. **Operation Condor**: Alleged involvement in this campaign of political repression in Latin America.

8. **Kurdish Rebellion in Iraq (1975)**: Accused of abandoning the Kurdish rebellion in Iraq after initial support.

9. **U.S.-China Relations**: Criticized for prioritizing geopolitical strategy over human rights issues in China.

10. **1974 Cyprus Crisis**: Accused of supporting the Turkish invasion and subsequent division of Cyprus.

11. **Angolan Civil War (1975)**: Criticized for involvement in Angola's civil war supporting anti-communist factions.

12. **Detente with the Soviet Union**: Criticized for concessions made to the USSR during negotiations.

13. **Human Rights Violations**: Accused of overlooking human rights in favor of geopolitical strategy.

14. **1973 Yom Kippur War**: Criticized for delayed response that may have prolonged the conflict.

15. **Arms Control Negotiations**: Criticized for strategic arms negotiations with the USSR that some felt were disadvantageous to the U.S.

16. **Realpolitik Approach**: Criticized for his pragmatic, often cold approach to foreign policy, sometimes at the cost of ethical considerations.

17. **Pakistan's Nuclear Program**: Accused of ignoring Pakistan's development of nuclear weapons.

18. **Latin American Policy**: His policies in Latin America, particularly in supporting authoritarian regimes, have been widely criticized.

19. **SALT I Treaty (Strategic Arms Limitation Talks)**: Criticized for the concessions made in these treaties with the Soviet Union.

20. **Legacy and Influence on U.S. Foreign Policy**: His approach and decisions continue to spark debate regarding their impact on global politics and U.S. foreign policy.

These points represent a range of views and criticisms and are part of the complex legacy of Henry Kissinger's career in international relations.

************

Me:

Few more pls.. must say…all this is/has been quite revealing..

Dis person in question continues to b considered quite a statesman..in many quarters..ie/meaning..has had many admirers all across d globe..over d years.

[Dis list(of his admirers)includes..many a political leader of global stature/standing(ie..heads of nations/state..etc… etc..)..over d years]

Chatgpt response:

Regarding additional accusations and criticisms faced by Henry Kissinger:

21. **Support for Apartheid South Africa**: Accused of tacitly supporting apartheid policies in South Africa during the Cold War.

22. **Greek Military Junta Support**: Allegedly supported the Greek military junta, which was known for human rights abuses.

23. **Ignoring African Issues**: Criticized for neglecting African issues, focusing predominantly on Cold War geopolitics.

24. **Policy Towards the Middle East**: Criticized for policy decisions in the Middle East that are believed to have contributed to long-term instability.

25. **Influence on Iran-Iraq War**: Allegedly played a role in the events leading to the Iran-Iraq War, contributing to regional destabilization.

It's important to note that while Kissinger's actions and policies have been the subject of significant criticism, he has also been praised for his strategic insight and diplomatic skills, particularly in establishing relations with China and his role in the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks (SALT) with the Soviet Union. His career remains a subject of significant debate among historians and political scientists.

**********

Me:

Evil streak…he seems to have had in him.. in his younger days(as can b witnessed by/in his many actions..in d years gone by)…is likely..may someday b consigned to hell(n all)…wat d’ya think..

Chatgpt:

As an AI developed by OpenAI, I don't provide personal opinions, especially on sensitive topics like the moral judgment or legacy of public figures like Henry Kissinger. The assessment of his actions and their impact on international politics varies widely among historians, political scientists, and the public. Some view him as a skilled diplomat who played a key role in several significant geopolitical developments, while others criticize him for his involvement in various controversial actions and policies. It's important for each individual to consider the various perspectives and historical contexts when forming an opinion on such complex figures.

[** Ab bhailog..kiske paas time hota hai..kisi ki complex personality ko samajhne ka..

Logon ki zindigi ko barbaad karne walla(ek paapon ka “Pahad” khada kar leta hai apne liye)..udhar hi baat khatam ho jaati hai..aur woh Gobind Ji ke gazab ki sazaa ka haqdaar ban/ho jaata hai..apne aap hi..[Iss main phir..koi kuch nahi kar sakta]

Aisa kyon?..woh aisa isiliye ki..Gobind Ji sab ke hote hai..unke/uske bhi the/hai..jinko/jisko aapne/tumne khatam kiya..

Aise paap karne wale..ek tarah se dekha jaye toh..daya ke patr hote hai.

Bhagwan inhe bhi maaf kare..lekin waise yeh hota nahi..unfortunately..

Ek tarah se aise..aur aison ka saath dene walon ka uddhar karte hai Krish ji/Bhagwan ji..jab ve inhe/unhe saza dete hai..(unhe khatam kar ke/karte hue).. Samjhe kuch?.. nahi?… khair..]..

***********

Me:

Had called Mrs Indira Gandhi ji *****..I hear.

Has in d past..also referred to/called (all)Indians *****..think..had read dis 1 ..somewhere..

Hope all dis is not true..to b honest..am having difficulty in digesting/believing dis one(wat wid d person in question being a lifetime/lifelong/career diplomat/politician)..

Task1:

1.So kindly verify for me..dis bit..

Perform dis task..wearing a fact checkers hat..

Task2:

If these accusations happen to b true..wat wud u then call dis kind of a thing..

[***Am a bit curious..out here.. as to how…u end up justifying dis kind of a thing.

Surely not ur regular politician/diplomat.. he was(when in positions of responsibility/power)..dis Mr Henry Kissinger..I mean..wat wud/do u have to say now..]

Chatgpt:

The derogatory remarks made by Henry Kissinger about former Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and Indians have been confirmed through declassified U.S. State Department tapes. In these taped conversations between Kissinger and then-President Richard Nixon, Kissinger referred to Gandhi as a "*****”..and called Indians "*******”..during a heated discussion [oai_citation:1,Error](data:text/plain;charset=utf-8,Unable%20to%20find%20metadata) [oai_citation:2,Indira Gandhi a b*t*h: Recalling Kissinger's remarks on ex-Indian PM](https://www.newsbytesapp.com/news/world/when-kissinger-called-indians-bastards-and-indira-gandhi-a-b-t-h/story). After these remarks became public in 2005, Kissinger expressed regret, stating that the language used should be viewed in the context of the Cold War era. He claimed respect for Gandhi, noting the geopolitical tensions of that time, including India's alignment with the Soviet Union [oai_citation:3,Indira Gandhi a “*****”..Recalling Kissinger's remarks on ex-Indian PM](https://www.newsbytesapp.com/news/world/when-kissinger-called-indians-bastards-and-indira-gandhi-a-b-t-h/story).

Such language, especially from a high-ranking diplomat and political figure, has been widely criticized. It reflects a disregard for diplomatic norms and respect for leaders of other nations. This episode is part of the broader and complex legacy of Kissinger's career, marked by both significant diplomatic achievements and controversial actions and statements.

*****Chatgpt output/conversation ends here*****

Me(Conspiracy theorist ji ko yeh tool output dikhate hue):”Chk dis tool output out..my friend…

Was a lifetime/lifelong Republican too.. dis person.

[Makes u happy.. dis lil fact ..am sure…

Right winger/Far righter/Authoritarian kinda ideological streak/orientation/actions..(a la Donald Trump?.. haha)..u (still) may have managed to spot ..in dis 1/in all dis too?…[Very conveniently overlooking lotsa other stuff.. as alway]..haha…”

Me(After him having(completely)checked out dis tool output):

“Surely/Most definitely has been cut from a different fabric/cloth..dis ol’ guy..

Wat d’ya think now/wat have u..to say to me now..sir?..

**** Never mind.. d domestic politics of dis party .. dat party.. here’s wat your favourite America(also called “d US of A”)..ie..ur so called all powerful western democracy..(Belonging to dat all powerful(western democracies dominated) unipolar global order/axis’s…(calls itself/fancies itself as being a leader of d free world too..haha)).. had/has managed to inflict..on so many/on a global scale/at a geo political level/all across d globe..under his leadership/under his so called leadership/expertise[Being bought/dat was sought to b bought ..time n again..at/to d global/geopolitical table]..

So/effectively dis is wat..we’ve managed to find out today..about dis legendary figure

(read..about his actions in d past)..

Stuff for movies surely…

[So tell me..wat have u…to say now.. on all dis .. u fanboy..?..surely not much left to say now..or is there?]…”

Him: “Boss he was a lifetime Republican..kinda corroborates all dat stuff dat have/had been saying/pointing out/talking to u abt..ever since i’ve/have met u..hai na?”

Me:”Aise nahi manege aap shayad.. khair.. koi baat nahi…ab aage badte hai…”

*********

[**Alas..such is d nature of d beast..my friends..such is d nature of d beast..always has been dis way..if u ask me..(ie..dis beast called/dat goes by d name “Global politics/geopolitics”…is wat am talking about here)]

**********

***[Section 4,Part 10]..to follow next…****

[ipsomaniac]

watched the first 2 eps of Rings of Power yesterday and it was basically what i was expecting - a sequence of clunky, overproduced videogame cutscenes - but despite my low expectations i was still surprised by just how bad the writing was. here’s my post bitching about it.

caveat: several years ago i attempted to read The Silmarillion but found it boring and only got about a third of the way through. i’m less interested in how faithful Rings of Power is to its source material (though i do care about faithfulness-of-vibe) and more concerned with critiquing the show on its own merits or failings as a story.

so first off: the aesthetics. i’m not gonna mince my words here, rings of power encapsulates a recent aesthetic tendency in tv and film which i despise. i’ve seen some reviews praising it as “visually stunning” and i’m like, are we watching the same show? are there some people who like this horrible modern fantasy aesthetic where nothing looks real, everything is CGI and has this oversaturated, sort of shiny quality; where even the physical costumes manage to look computer-generated and even “gritty” scenes like battlefields or a rustic tavern are uncannily sanitized? people enjoy this?

the overall shiny videogame aesthetic is compounded by some truly bizarre character design. number one is giving all the male elves a hairstyle that can only be described as “80′s corporate prepster quiff”, sometimes bordering precariously onto greasy mullet territory. each individual elf has a metric tonne of gel holding his quiff in place. apparently this is the standard for male elf beauty in the Second Age:

it is inherently untrustworthy and undignified hair; the only conceivable explanation is that the director wished to evoke the atmosphere of 1980s boardroom dramas and douchebag frat boys to convey that the elves of the Second Age are dumb political animals. 

beyond elf hair, the costuming is not great overall. stand out sins: a general plasticky quality to the costumes (the show seems to have a proclivity for a particular mottled-metallic fabric which looks very odd; at one point galadriel is outfitted in a fully sequinned dress; the prosthetic elf ears look like fleshy plastic protruberences. all the characters are caked in highly visible makeup: the only thing that looks materially real in the whole show is galadriel’s over-highlighted pores and the stark delineation of her smokey eye.

Bonus hair issue: no beards on the dwarf women. cowards!

a few positives: there are some cool sets and landscape designs. i thought Lindon was well-conceived and pretty (although undermined by the greasy-ass elves inhabiting it) and i loved Khazad-Dum: they captured the cavernousness of the space, the sense of constant productive motion within the dwarven stronghold, the pulleys and technology and the clever ways of bringing light underground. also loved the geometric Dwarven design sensibility.

basically, the heavily CGI’d approach does in fact work quite well for landscape-establishing longshots, and the sets themselves are generally decent. i could more easily appreciate the backdrop, and be more forgiving towards the videogame aesthetic, if the characters inhabiting the world didn’t have such a consistently jarring appearance.

As for the actual substance of the show... where to begin.

First off, for a show with so much exposition, it really does a poor job of orienting the audience in the world. For a general audience with passing familiarity with the cast of LOTR and The Hobbit, there are a lot of new characters to get to grips with, and the show is bad at basic things like telling you characters’ names and how they are related to each other. Galadriel’s dead brother - who dat? Galadriel and Elrond are clearly friends/relatives but what’s the connection, when did they meet? Elrond used to be friends with Durin but again, when, how? I have the background knowledge to recognise the elf-king (i.e. the only male elf sporting appropriate hair) as Gil-Galad, but I would not know this just from watching the show. And then there are large clusters of random supporting characters where i just have no clue who these guys are.

this leads to the biggest problem, which is that not only do i not know who half the characters are, i also do not have much of a reason to care. the only character with a clearly laid-out motive is galadriel: she is haunted by her brother’s death and wants to find and defeat Sauron. ok, so far so good. but then the next thing we see is her free-soloing up an icy cliff - this apparently has something to do with finding sauron, but how? what is she looking for? why should we be invested in this wild goose chase? we don’t know and neither does her mutinous elven troupe. she is framed as a warrior girlboss, but by episode 2 she’s had a lot of action to very little purpose. and this is the one character who does have a backstory and motive - with every other character it’s like, who are you and what do you want?

another issue is tone. the problem with having an elf-centric series is that the tonal baseline of elves is heightened, serious and formal and this gets to be a drag pretty quickly. in addition, the writers of Rings of Power simply do not pull off the tolkienesque register very well. exchanges like the following are characteristic:

Elrond: After all you have endured, it is only natural to feel conflicted. Galadriel: Conflicted? I am grateful you have not known evil as I have, but you have not seen what I have seen. Elrond: I have seen my share. Galadriel: You have not seen what I have seen.

the whole thing smacks of bad pastiche. the word “conflicted” is anachronistic (i did a quick ctrl+f of LOTR and i’m correct, there is not a single instance of the word “conflicted” in the text, it’s a jarringly modern usage). then the rest of the exchange is just redundent repetition and tautology, and i guess we are meant to be very impressed by the weight of galadriel’s trauma here but it’s so lamely expressed. and it’s meaningless because, actually, we don’t really have any idea of the horrors they have seen - we had one shot of galadriel wandering around a wrecked battlefield and mourning her brother, but we haven’t really witnessed her suffering beyond that, and have literally no idea what Elrond has been up to prior to the start of the story. so this exchange carries absolutely no weight. this is clearly meant to convey the high seriousness of tolkienesque dialogue but it’s amateur hour! it's just unclever, bad-sounding dialogue. this is basically the level throughout.

the writers occassionally try to lighten things up with jokes:

Medhor: ...or do you think me blind? Arondir: I think you talk too much. And you smell of rotting leaves. Medhor: No, I don’t! Arondir: Yes, you do.

Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!

Harfoots are naturally the designated comic relief race. the harfoot scenes are constantly gesturing towards mischievious frolicking but no one ever does or says anything actually funny. the harfoots are also unfortunately landed with the role of “spiritual primitives”; there are a few circle-of-life speeches, lenny henry plays some kind of hobbit shamen, it’s annoying stuff. the one positive thing i’d say is that at least with the harfoots we actually get a sense of how far in the past we are vs. LOTR; it’s basically impossible to convey the passing of millennia when your focal characters are elves because they live forever and never change, but with the harfoots we see a recognisably more primitive ancestor-culture to the hobbits, so that helps to locate the series in time.

other bad things: - the voyage to valinor, fuck that was weird, are we supposed to infer that the elves just stand there clasping their swords in armed formation for the whole journey? - celebrimbor... :’( he has such strong willy wonka vibes, why would they do this. i think they deliberately made him off-putting to pre-emptively thwart the celebrimbor/annatar shippers.

good things: i like that they depict Olorin/Gandalf as deliriously disoriented by the experience of corporeal manifestation, looking forward to seeing baby’s journey of learning how to use limbs and process sensory input. i am also keen to see more dwarves.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Dick Grayson received condolences wherever he went. Recently, people in ‘Haven and on the force about everything he lost during the Blockbuster debacle (and he lost a lot.) Press and the public turning their faces down in a mask of sorrow after Jason, telling him it must have been so hard for him to lose a brother. And before that, when he first came to live with Bruce, every socialite looking at him through diamond-studded fingers wrapped around a bubbly champagne glass, telling him how sorry they were he lost his parents, how difficult it must have been to see them fall, how much he misses his family.

For once, they were right. Even after all these years, Dick missed his family more than anything. Dya and Dat were his parents, of course he missed them. But other than Bruce, the elite of Gotham had a rigid definition of family, and it would take far too much energy for Dick to explain to them why they were wrong.

Haleé was an old man, gruff in the way most people like him were. He was the patriarch of their cobbled-together family, someone who built up his life’s dream with nothing but a couple euros, the calluses on his hands, an old performer’s cane, and a recipe for chili that his Cajun mother had given him. He clasped everyone on the shoulder and taught Dick how to captivate an audience with a couple gestures. And every time Bruce looked up at him, concealed pride in his eyes but a mouth barking at him to try again, to do better this time, Dick took a deep breath and reminded himself that Haleé had left with the circus.

Georges the Strongman was one of the few Frenchmen Dick had ever met, but he was under the impression they weren’t supposed to be so...large. Dya had scolded him disapprovingly, and told him that was rude. Dat had snorted and agreed with him. Then again, Dya was Rom and had been to France before, while Dat grew up in Turkmenistan and his first trip to Europe had been with the troupe, so Dya was probably right. Either way, Georges’ muscles were larger than Dick’s head and he used them to sweep Dick up in hugs. He could do handstands on Georges’ shoulders, and his deep, rumbling chuckles were a staple of  Circ d’Haleé, often accompanied by Dick’s own breathless laughter. (The few times Dick managed to get Jason to actually laugh, he had to blink back memories. And whenever he used Jason’s shoulders as a springboard, both in the field and for fun, those same breathless giggles came out when he heard Jason’s indignant sputters and curses.)

Befrî and Cemre were the most talented acrobats and contortionists Dick had ever met. The main reason Dick himself was so flexible was the routines they had taught him, practicing them early in the morning with a couple other members of the circus.  Befrî and Cemre were from Buraydah, and though they told absolutely grand stories to Dick all the time, they refused to go back. Their bodies were lean and quick and clever, their minds even more so. Sly comments and remarks had Dick bursting out in peals of laughter, their determination and dedication to their art pushing Dick to do the same. (Even though he often reminded everyone he wasn’t a contortionist, it was always worth it to see his friends’ faces when he pulled his limbs into a position more than a touch unnatural.) Dick often caught Befrî in Tim’s clever little smirk, and Cemre’s eyes were narrowed in determination as he worked on a case. Then Dick blinked, and Tim was just Tim again.

Guillermina was just a teenager, but she could swallow fire. Dick remembered the night he met her. A stowaway from Mexico, she stumbled around Egypt, lost in a foreign land, before coming across Circ d’Haleé. Haleé had said, in that gruff manner of his, their troop was closed for the night and would not be accepting questions or paparazzo. In response, Guillermina stuck flames down her throat and juggled broken beer bottles she found on the floor, then begged in a hoarse voice, if she couldn’t stay could she at least have a meal. Haleé had stared at her, then asked if she went by Guillermina or Mina. She said neither, she went by Yiye, and after eavesdropping on the conversation, Dick had run up to give her a hug. Yiye was bold and reckless and utterly unafraid of the world, and Dick adored her. She taught Dick to juggle and she taught Dick to ride a unicycle and she taught Dick to throw his entire body and passion into everything he did. Whenever Dick found himself about to scold Damian for his daredevil, he caught sight of Yiye’s fire in his eyes, and found himself getting strung along.

There was a fortune teller in Circ d’Haleé. She went by Tsetvanya, except when she went by Apolonia, expect when she went by Mieczysław. (Isn’t Mieczysław a boy’s name? Dick had asked. She had laughed and said yes, yes it was.) She was Polish, except when she said she was swore up and down she was born and raised in Andorra, except when she said lightly she had always traveled and had long since had her roots ripped out. (An American had once asked if that made her a gypsy. He had meant it as some sort of backwards compliment. No one else even had to intervene because she had slapped him hard enough for her rings to cut into his face and make him bleed. Dya pulled the man away and explained, sternly, how rude that was. Dick doubts the man ever visited the Middle East again.) Whoever the fortune teller was, no matter what lies dripped from her lips, she still found the time to show Dick her hand-painted Tarot cards, to tell him stories, to warn him of the world’s dangers everyone else shielded him from. Her bones were brittle and her makeup was extravagant and her hugs were bony and every time someone brought up Alfred’s vast knowledge of the life and fierce protectiveness and general worldliness, Dick smiled to himself and thought, I think Alfred may have a contender.

Emilie the Lion tamer could read Dick as well as Cass and Raymond may have just worked behind the scenes but his homemade meals made everyone gather together just like Steph making breakfast and Tanuja’s kindness towards the troop and mischievousness towards the crowds was so much like Duke that it hurt. Dick had warred with himself over using Bruce’s and the League’s resources to find them, track them, check if they were okay, see if they remembered him. He always backed down.

They say after you lose someone, you can see signs of them everywhere you go, in the people you meet. Dick was constantly surrounded by his family, both versions of them, and the juxtaposition made him laugh, made him cry, made him miss Circ d’Haleé like a physical ache, made him beyond relieved he wasn’t with them anymore. 

Because that night, Dick didn’t just lose his Dya and Dat, didn’t just loose his parents. He lost his entire family.

*bangs pots and pans together* IF YOU’RE GONNA WRITE ROM DICK GRAYSON FUCKING DO IT RIGHT. or, not really Rom, just not classically American in general. anyway, i bet you could guess how i had no idea how to end this thing. but here it is. tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @anothertimdrakestan @thebatsandbirdsofgotham @astroherogirl @subtleappreciation

[thefoldedbird]

Give and Take

The now revived Vol’jin has answered the call to a summit to prove his strength to the Loa once more. Unable to join, Orla stays behind and gains some perspective.

No warnings, though I apologize for the quality.

She floated softly behind him, holding her lips at the dip between his neck and shoulder. Her hands wandered over his chest lightly touching. Stroking and loving.

“…you have to go?”

He nodded solemnly, “I do.”

Her breathing hitched and she squeezed him tightly around his abdomen. “And I can’t come?”

The big blue troll sighed and pulled her around to his front. “No, Bal’a, this be for da chieftains. For da favor o’ da loa. Ya can’t interfere.”

Tears budded in her eyes but she blinked them away. “The fuck am I supposed to do if you-.”

“Ya don’t trust me? Mah skills or my devotion?” Vol’jin prodded defiantly, “ah be a shadow hunter. Ah be strong.”

“Skill is one thing, those backstabbing little shitfucks who don’t play fair are quite another.” Orla snapped, eyes sharp. “I don’t doubt you. I just don’t trust them.”

Vol’jin reluctantly fell silent. It was a fair concern. “I still intend to win, Bal’a. The loa will see. So will you.”

“We better,” she muttered.

“Good…now, can ah have ma glaive back?”

The woman grumbled, but snapped her fingers, allowing the glaive to pop back into existence. With a soft chuckle Vol’jin grabbed it from middair and strapped it to his back. He pulled her in for a kiss, humming against her lips.

“I will be back, Bal’a.” He said, bumping their foreheads together. “Take care o’ da place while ahm gone.”

“I promise,” she cupped his neck, “I love you.”

His ears flicked, flushed with a pretty purple hue. “I love you, too.”

She saw him off, keeping her sadness locked down as he mounted his raptor and gave one last wave before riding off to meet with the chieftains of the other tribes. Orla’s heart twisted painfully in her chest.

“He’ll be fine.” Zalazane said, clapping her on the back, “he be too clever fer his own good.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“And if ahm not?”

Orla glanced back to him, catching his careful gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ya gonna go after him, if he gets hurt?”

“Obviously.”

Zalazane shook his head. “Ya can’t, dat would upset the loa.”

“The loa don’t concern me. I’m not a troll.” She replied icily.

“But dey do concern the Darkspear.” He frowned, “ya gonna damn da village in ya anger?”

“If they loa hex Sen’jin village because of my actions then they’re idiots.” Orla snapped, “last I checked, I wasn’t Darkspear.”

Zalazane’s expression softened. “Of course ya Darkspear, quashi.”

Orla rolled her eyes. “And why do you think that?”

“Ya be mates with our chieftain-.”

“We’re not mates.”

“But-.”

“We’re not.” She stressed, rubbing her temples to pat down her annoyance. “If we’re following tradition, it’s up to Master Gadrin to declare us mates before the Loa. But he won’t. He still thinks I’m an alliance spy who’s…oh how’d he put it? Weaponizing my feminine wiles against his mind.”

Zalazane couldn’t quite stifle his laughter, earning him a sharp look from the mage.

“Look,” he snorted, squeezing her shoulder, “if da chieftain says ya be his mate, ya be his mate. Dat be all most Darkspear need. And Gad knows dat. He jus’ bein’ stubborn. He see Vol’jin as his own.”

Orla’s shoulders sagged as she sighed, “the way he’s talking he’d rather drown in the ocean than declare us mates.”

“Ya, he be stubborn like dat.” Zalazane said pityingly, patting her back. “but, ya got other tings ta worry about, like hostin’ da ambassador tomorrow. Dat’ll least keep ya mind off’a da summit.”

“Yeah…wait what?”

As it turns out, the ambassador was Vol’jin’s nephew.

He was a shaman named Zekhan. He seemed fairly young to be filling a roll like ‘ambassador’ but Orla wasn’t in a place to judge. She could see the family resemblance. He wasn’t quite the same shade of blue as Vol’jin, instead being a bit more purple in hue. Maybe Vol’jin’s sister took a bit more after Sen’jin.

She briefly wondered if Sen’jin had also been a redhead when he was younger.

Apparently his mother was doing business in Orgrimmar and his father had passed so he didn’t have any relatives to bunk with except Vol’jin. The hut his mother had been using had been delegated to a newly pregnant couple. A strange concept to the mage, but hell it made sense in a way.

“Sorry, I’d have been a bit more prepared for guests if I’d known I was having one.”

“Ah, sorry.” He chuckled, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” She chastised gently, hanging a kettle over the firepit. “Vol’jin has been so busy preparing for the summit, he likely forgot to mention it.”

“I take it he left already?”

“Last night, yes.”

“Must be hard, ta see ya mate off.”

“Oh, we’re not…” she trailed off, giving him an awkward smile.

The poor kid’s whole body seemed to blush purple. “Oh, ahm so sorry. I jus’ assumed…”

“It’s alright. We might as well be after everything that happened. It’s just been…messy.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Nevermind all that. How long are you staying in Sen’jin?”

“But ya revived him?”

Orla stumbled putting the tea leaves in the pot, hastily snatching them back before the flames claimed them.

“I…yes, I did.”

Zekhan’s nose crinkled in confusion. “Den why it be messy?”

“I…by reviving him I made many people very angry.”

“Dat’s stupid.” He huffed, thumping the floor to accentuate his point. But Orla shook her head.

“They have a right to be angry.”

“Dey don’t!”

“But they do.” Orla argued softly. “Many argue that I’ve disrespected trollkind. Disrespected the Loa of Graves. Many are worried I’m going to bring hardship for potentially upsetting him. Others think it’s not even really Vol’jin, since his body was burned away. Even more think it is him, but I’m puppeteering his mind in the name of the alliance.”

Zekhan shifted uncomfortably, “oh.”

“Worse yet, they’re right to feel that way. Vol’jin had been dead for awhile. Rohkan was accepted as the new leader. And now he’s back out of nowhere with a human on his arm? I would be suspicious too if I were them.” Orla explained, but waved her hand. “Ah, forgive me, I shouldn’t be talking your ear off.”

“It’s okay, better den politics.”

Orla choked back a laugh, “I see.”

“Do ya want ta be mates?”

Orla raised an amused brow at the troll, “are you always so nosy?”

“Family is supposed ta be nosy.” He crossed his arms with a satisfied smirk.

Orla conceded with a laugh, “touché.” The woman wrung her fingers as she thought. “Before he was revived the answer would have been an easy yes. We grew really close over time. But now that he’s alive and reality’s hit us both…” she sighed, “there’s all these little caveats we didn’t think about. I still love him of course. But is that the best thing for him?”

“I think he be gettin ta decide dat too.”

Orla hummed, regarding his words. “I think I see why they made you an ambassador.”

Zekhan puffed a laugh, his cheeks flushing a little. “Ah, yeah…”

The mage removed the whistling kettle from the flames with a flick of her hand. “Who are you the ambassador for, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I meet with da Zandalari on behalf o’ da Horde.” He replied, gratefully taking the cup of tea she offered. “Da queen is…apprehensive about allying wit dem.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Orla murmured, swirling her tea.

“Zandalari be a proud people.” Zekhan shrugged, “not used to needin’ allies on dat scale.”

The mage nodded but said nothing, opting to enjoy the sounds of the crackling fire. Zekhan left shortly after to meet with some friends he hadn’t seen in awhile, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

A part of her wondered if she was being rude by staying in the village. Staying by his side. Was it making it harder on him to reintegrate with his people? It certainly felt like it sometimes. Master Gadrin openly disapproved of her. Rohkan seemed wary at best, outright disgusted at worst.

Surprisingly, Ur’kyo seemed extremely interested in her, though not enough to get close.

Hell, children were steered away from her when she stepped foot outside the hut…that one actually hurt a little. Were the alliance races so bad to these people that they thought she would hurt a child? She figured, no, that was likely far from the reason. Probably instinct more than anything. She was an unknown to this village. All they knew was that she’d revived their shadow hunter. Their chieftain. And that said chieftain was more than a little fond of her. Suspiciously fond, depending on who you asked.

The mage downed the rest of the tea in the kettle, resolved to do something other with her day than mope. She placed the kettle in the sink. She'd deal with it later. It was a nice enough day outside and the ocean seemed calm. Maybe Zansoa would be willing to make good on his -likely sarcastic- offer to teach her to fish. She fought to keep the smirk of her lips. She surmised if he hadn't intended to keep his words, he shouldn't have said them. It's not like he had a good reason to tell her no.

A possible in with another adult in the village, a shopkeeper at that, and time to forge new skills? The sounds of perfect opportunity couldn't have rung clearer.

It was five more days before Vol'jin came back. He looked fairly ragged on his raptor, his hair all akimbo and his leathers disheveled. But the grin on his face was unmistakable. He was in good spirits if nothing else. A crowd gathered around him quickly, Rohkan and Gadrin helped him down down from his mount. Zalazane stood close by, directing one of the younger fishermen to put the mount away for their chieftain.

He thrust his fist into the air with a mighty battle cry, quickly letting the crowd know of his success. Orla managed to push to the front amidst the crowd's celebration, giving her mate a relieved smile. The Darkspear chieftain pulled away from Gadrin and Rohkan's questions, knelt down, and wearily threw is arms around the woman, roughly nuzzling his cheek against hers.

"Ah missed ya, mona." he rumbled, purring when she pressed a kiss to his temple. "Ah fought well. Da loa be lookin after da Darkspear, again. Dey be expectin' great t'ings from us."

"I don't doubt that one bit, my love." she murmured, pulling back to rub her thumbs over his cheekbones. Her eyes raked over his face. His war paint was splotchy and faded and he'd clearly taken a few blows to the face. But his eyes were as bright and clear as ever, shining like lumps of gold.

Gadrin loomed over them both, annoyance slipping into his smile despite his best efforts. "We be holdin’ a great feast tonight-."

"Would tomorrow night not be better?" Orla asked, her brow furrowed. "You can see as well as I can, he's exhausted. Give him time to recover before jumping back into another event."

Gadrin practically sneered at the woman, "dat hardly be ya decision ta make. Our chieftain be hardy, a shadow hunter-."

"A warrior who has more than earned his rest," she scowled, "or are you blind?"

"Ah dare ya ta interrupt me once more, human. Blind is the last thing-!"

"Enough, both o' ya." Vol'jin snapped, getting to his feet with a bit of a stagger. "we will celebrate tomorrow, once ah've rested.”

Gadrin's eyes narrowed, but he relented. He offered a curt parting nod. "As ya wish, chieftain."

Vol'jin raised a brow at the woman, wholly unimpressed as she helped him back to their home. "Ah hope ya two weren't..."

"What? Bickering like children the whole time you were gone? Of course not. I had far more important things to attend to."

"Oh?" he huffed, though a bit curious, "such as?"

"Fishing."

Vol'jin barked a heavy laugh, one that unfortunately devolved into coughs as they ambled up the stairs. "Zansoa finally agree ta teach ya?"

"Begrudgingly, but yes. You're lucky I don't smell of bait and tackle." she giggled, setting her mate down gently on a thick nest of pillows on the mat she had prepared.

The troll blinked, incredulous. "Where are these from?"

"Stole em' from the guest rooms in Stormwind." she shrugged, "don't worry. I'll put them back when we're done."

Vol'jin barely suppressed another case of the giggles, settling heavily into the pillows without any more fuss. He protested weakly when she returned to his side with a medical box, but she hushed his whining without a shred of sympathy.

"Ah will heal on my own, mona." he muttered. "Trolls be quick ta heal."

"I know, but you'll heal even faster if you aren't fighting off an infection." she countered, ignoring his hissing as she cleaned his wounds with a bitter smelling paste. "Just be grateful Azeroth hasn't discovered isopropyl alcohol. I'd actually be giving you a reason to be hissy."

“Iso…what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Trolls have alcohol, mona.”

“Wrong kind of alcohol.”

“Dere only be da one kind.”

“You don’t drink this one.”

He scoffed. “O’course, only humans be makin’ spirits ya can’t drink.”

Orla side-eyed the troll but found him grinning practically ear to ear. She playfully smacked his chest, smirking when he yelped.

“You sure someone didn’t bust up your sense of humor like they did your face?”

“It be intact.” He drawled, though he looked almost pleased with himself. Coy perhaps. “Such a fussy mage.”

“Of course I’m fussy.” She sighed, looping a clean bandage around his knuckle. “I was worried sick.”

His expression softened to a genuine smile. He reached up and thumbed her cheek, chuckling when she leaned into his touch. "Ah be strong, mona. Ya not be needin ta' worry."

The woman caught herself, considering her words.

"I'm your mate." she countered, holding his gaze through lidded eyes. "I'm going to worry about you no matter what."

Vol'jin laid back and allowed the mage to finish wrapping his wounds. The familiarity of the crashing waves lulled him to sleep. Orla smiled, pressed a kiss to his knuckle, and snuck off to the kitchen to start dinner.

[thebrownssociety]

Across The Serververse, Part 27

“When we last left Bugs Bunny it was just as he was tasked with coming up with a challenge that’s going to send old Rhythm running from the hills.  We now await with baited breath to see what he comes up with, as the fate of all of our lives - not least Elmer Fudd’s - counts on him-”

“Yeah, alright Lola.” Bugs said, spinning round to face her. “Give it a rest, will ya?”

Lola - sitting behind a desk, clad in a news reporters outfit - sighed and dropped the microphone. “Just trying to lighten the mood.” She muttered.

“Yeah, well, give it another chapter or two, will ya?” Bugs muttered back. Now with the room nearly completely quiet Bugs closed his eyes and thought. After the events of the last chapter the rabbit now knew that it didn’t matter what he chose, Rhythm would find some way to twist it to suit himself.  So now Bugs had to find a way to twist everything back on the so-called ‘king of the serververse’ 

He smiled to himself. Shouldn’t be an issue really. He was a rabbit after all, they were known for being quick-thinkers. Just look at Rodger.

Just then a thought popped into his head and Bugs abruptly turned to looked at Rhythm. “Ya know.” He began. “Oi was just t’inkin’-”

“Oh, you’re capable of that, are you?” The king sneered.

“-How’d you know where we are? Dis whole t’ing obviously needs a lotta thought and planning and ya must know exactly where we are at all times.  Otherwise it doesn’t work. So? How’d you know?”

Rhythm blinked.  “That’s the challenge?” He asked, sceptically. “You want me to explain how I keep tabs on you?”

Bugs took a deep breath. "I didn't say dat, doc. Jus' humour me will ya?"

There was then a silence while Bugs waited to see which one would win. Rhythm's common sense or his ego. [...You all know the answer to that one don't you?]

"...Well, it couldn't hurt for you to revel in the work of a genius." Rhythm said, thoughtfully. He then smiled and clapped his hands together. One of the walls started moving - causing the toons to all leap into each others arms scooby-doo style - and a bunch of monitors came out the wall. Rhythm turned them on and each monitor showed a different area of the Warner Brother Serververse. 

“Wow.” Wile.E said, admiringly. 

His siblings all turned to look at him incredulously. The coyote shrugged and folded his arms. “What? It’s one of the most beautiful and high-tech things I’ve ever seen. So sue me.”

Shaking his head, Bugs turned his attention back to the screen and went to speak; however he was prevented by Daffy who popped up in front of him and exclaimed, hyperactively. “Stho! Thisth isth how you’ve been keeping tabs on us? Clever. Ooh look, Bugsthy!” He grabbed Bugs’s arm and shook him. “I can sthee our house from here!”

The younger toon opened his mouth to tell Daffy to shut his beak, then closed it as he caught sight of Sylvester and Junior running around outside their house. Bugs guessed Sly was trying to teach his son how to pounce if the elaborate dance the two seemed to be doing was anything to go by. 

Biting his lips Bugs looked round the other screens as a plan started forming in his mind. Every toon that worked for Warner Brothers was on this screen somewhere. Tom and Jerry were chasing each other, the Scooby-Doo gang were singing a song about solving mysteries and the rest of the Looney Tunes gang were either chilling with each other or dropping anvils on each other. 

After a few seconds a lightbulb came on over Bugs’s head and he smirked while rubbed his hands together like an evil genius. “Okay Rhythm, here’s de challenge. Oi’m goin’ ta name three toons that Oi want ya ta transport here on yer own. You can’t send Pete ta get em, ya can’t send/make any of us do it and ya can’t use de portals ta grab ‘em like ya did with Elmer-”

For the first time Rhythm looked surprised. “How did you-”

“We have sources.” Bugs said, abruptly. “Anyway, terms agreed?” The two of them shook on it. Bugs smiled and continued. “So, oi want you ta bring - one - Sylvester Junior. Two - Sam Sheepdog and finally three-” There was a dramatic pause during which the camera covering the room zoomed in Bugs’s face as he said. “Yakko Warner.”

His siblings all hissed and inhaled sharply. Granny broke formation to put a hand hesitantly on Bugs’s shoulder. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, dear-?”

Bugs shook her off and maintained eye contact with Rhythm. “Deal or no deal?”

Rhythm considered for a few seconds then nodded and cracked his knuckles. “Easy Peasy.” He murmured. “BUT - you guys can’t get within 6 foot of them, understand?”

Bugs nodded and Rhythm gave him a look before closing his eyes and concentrating. 

Now. What happened next is a bit hard to describe but I’m going to give it a  try. Rhythm went very quiet, so quiet in fact that the Tunes momentarily thought he’d managed to freeze himself or something, before suddenly a glow erupted from him, his eyes lit up in gold and he threw his hands out to the side. 

The glow then seemed to transfer to the screen and the Tunes all whipped round to see various depictions of chaos. Rhythm had somehow managed to focus on just three screens, the one with Sylvester and Junior, another with Sam and Ralph and the final one with the Warner Siblings. 

Bugs, with growing horror, was watching the one with the Sylvester’s, drama unfolding as Sly realised his son was no longer next to him and started looking frantically round for him. Foghorn and Barnyawd ran up to him and seemed to be agreeing to help him look [the sound wasn’t on, so educated guesswork was required]. The theory was confirmed when the three of them split up. 

While Bugs was watching Sylvester, Pepe and Penelope were looking at the screen with Ralph on it. Just a few minutes ago the wolf and sheepdog had been enjoying a leisurely lunch break, probably discussing sports or something like that. [The two of them could talk for hours about baseball and basketball].Now however Ralph had realised Sam was gone and was searching all round the tree the two of them had been leaning against to try and find him. Eventually in desperation he lifted up the tree and then the grass just for good measure. With a look of utter terror on his face, the wolf rummaged in his hammerspace and grabbed a helicopter blade. He attached it to himself using the sling, then spun the blades so he was lifted into the air. Armed with a pair of binoculars Ralph went of in search of his best friend. 

The final screen, being watched by Daffy and Porky and the majority of the other toons, was the Animaniacs. Now a few seconds ago, judging by the swimsuit, net and goggles clasped to his face, it was clear that Yakko had been trying to ‘persuade’ his siblings to take a bath. Now he’d gone and it was just Wakko and Dot hiding behind the sofa, whispering to each other. Now it had been a few minutes since Yakko had just disappeared and the two of them seemed to be realising that something was off. Hesitantly - clearly not sure if this was another tactic by there older brother or not - the two of them peaked above the couch and looked from left to right. After a few more seconds of whispered discussion the two of them stepped out from behind the couch and seemed to be calling for their older brother. When they got no reply the two of them looked at each other anxiously and Wakko signalled for Dot to get behind him. Picking up the net that had been left on the floor when Yakko got transported, Wakko started edging through the water tower cautiously.

A quick flash from behind them and the toons all screamed and leapt into each others arms again. They looked up to where the flash had come from and saw Yakko, Sam and Junior had been put into cages [picture birdcages, but bigger] with a cartoonishy big lock on  each one. 

Another flash of light and Rhythm stumbled to the ground, just manging to catch himself in time. He started to laugh manically while dragging himself back up, making eye contact with Bugs he pointed at him and exclaimed, hysterically, while the lights started flicking all around and the glass box and birdcages started swinging. “I-I win! Y-y-you hear that, rabbit!?  I brought everyone here! I WIN!”

Ignoring his family's glares and keeping his face neutral, Bugs waited, hoping that the next part of his plan would actually happen.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile back in Ralph’s, Sylvester and the Warner siblings respective worlds the same thing happened. 

[In the tower]

“He’s not here!” Dot exclaimed, grabbing the front of Wakko’s  shirt. “Wakko, we have to save him!”

Wakko nodded and gently dislodged his younger sisters hands from his shirt. Reaching into his hammerspace he pulled out the script of the Fanfiction and started flicking through it. After a few seconds a lightbulb went on above his head, he grabbed Dot’s hand and the two of them disappeared in a flash.

[In the field]

Realising Sam wasn’t here, Ralph pulled out his copy of the script and flicked through it. After a few minutes he clicked his fingers and disappeared in a flash.

[Outside Sylvester’s house]

“Where the xxxx is he!?” Sylvester spat, having literally turned his house, his garden and Foghorn’s barnyard upside down. 

“Have you checked the script?” Barnyawd said, not for the first time. 

 Stopping dead in his tracks, Sylvester grabbed the script out his hammerspace -  sending pages flying everywhere - and hurriedly tacked them back together again. After a few seconds a lightbulb came on above his head and he disappeared in a flash. 

Foghorn and Barnyawd looked at each other. “Is this our part over?” Barnywawd asked.

“I think it, I say, I think it is, Dawg.”

Dawg nodded and looked around. “Right. All that’s needed is for the author to close the chapter.”

Foghorn smirked and clicked his fingers. An anvil landed on Dawg's head. "How, I say, how was that?"

Dawg stuck his head out from under the anvil and murmured. "I hate you." Before the scene faded to black.

[selinakidreams]

Ship your moots!!!

👁y’all done it now, I was WAITING for this one OO I’m gonna spoil my moots SO bad ! I love you guys 👁

this is gonna be long I’m so sorry

@keishinslove - carter,,,, I love you and I love you w me mister keishin ukai- NOT just because that’s your ✨mans✨ but because I fuckin see it with my eyes. mister man is out here smoking a cig while he waits for you to get off of work. everyone is out here looking at him like “who dat b he’s sexy” and then you walk out and he drops the smoke on the floor, steps on it, and smiles as you make eye contact. You smile too, finally allowing exhaustion take over as you slump in the welcoming hug he pulls you into. He’s like, “I know baby, let’s go home and I can make us some ramen and tea.” The rest of the night is full of terribly sung songs, heavy MAKEOUT sessions (maybe more) and feathered touches along your skin. He’ll take good care of you (in every means) and that’s all I want for you <3

@alto-march-of-death al I ship you with tsukki- now let me tell you why. I see you with someone who’s very reserved with who they show their emotions to,, now because you deal with youngsters,,,,,,,,, that’s a lot of energy put towards you all at once. Tall blond dino dude will be there for you but in ways that make you feel special and the lack of energy he shows is almost calming to you. like like I just see on a day where zoom has been a bit too much and parents were DUMb- you slink over to your couch- after class is over- to find tsukki there, watching animal planet, and bam you plop down and curl up in his side- no words needed. His eyes don’t leave the screen but a long fingered hand lands on your thigh, his thumb doing that thing that makes butterflies flutter in your rib cage. It’s peaceful. Nice.

@kmorgzz ENERGY. POSITIVITY. COMPASSION. All things you and hinata share <3 OOOOOO KAR YOURE ALWAYS THE SWEETEST AND LET ME TELL YOU !!!! YOU DESERVE THAT SAME SWEETNESS. sorry I’m yelling but hear me out !!! You guys are always doing SOMETHING. he’s restless and you take on the energy he gives off. You guys tend to do stuff that you wanna do because whatever you want, he wants !! Normally, it’s outside (cause he’s the sun and he makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine !!) ; could be walks that lead into picnics or something super sweet!! Always wants to make sure you’re smiling !!!!!! ALWAYS. oh also he’s such a big himbo that he just—— yk what I’m gonna shut my trap just,, oh MAN he just loves you SO much and will never run out of ways to show you

@introloves Jax... FR fr I ship you and bokuto SO hard. like this man is and deserves sunshine— that is exactly what you are. TWO SUNSHINE BEINGS. I just SEE it. wholly. he’s just so open to everything and anything !!! Sometimes a bit.. daft... but you definitely talk him through things and he heavily appreciates that & everything you do for him. you know what,, y’all would soak in lavender baths together. Your back against his front, your eyes closed and body relaxed in the warm water; the sent of lavender following the steam that rises from the bath. He likes to play with your soft hair and whisper about how much he loves you and how you are one of the best people in his life. How did he ever get so lucky?

@novvabeam jackieeee,,, miss ma’am.. I ship you with daichi. lemme explain. This man is like a horse- not many can ride him but for those who do, it’s a lifelong partnership. Dude is so !! Into you it’s CRAZY. He is obsessed with how soft and kind you are one minute, and the next his head is spinning by how powerful and strong you can be. Mad respect™️. First date (idea suggested by you) was at this really cute local ice cream shop where you two bonded over how absolutely different your flavors were. I see it.

@pinkoushi ellen + Suga; clear as day. soft cuddles and every day fikas. very chaotic neutral energy but constant attention and praise is given. (Me trying not to make something based off my memories in Sweden but is gonna do it anyways) like I could see him being so excited to move to Sweden for the education system lowkey- but before he started the school year, you just wanted to take him around the country and visit all the “popular places” before settling down. Lots and lots of train rides. you would be sitting across from each other- you’re semi asleep, head pressed against the window and he’s just watching as the fleeting golden light hits you, making you all glowy. he feels so warm, so content.

@chaotickatts katts ;) I hear sakusa is calling your name. loud and clear. man puts up with NO bullshit and neither do you. Your communication skills are off the charts; calm cool, collected- that’s you two. But I also think that you add a lot more fun in his life- like he loves every second with you- he shows that he appreciates it in your guys’ shared love language, more often than not. And he adds this grounding element to your relationship that makes you feel capable of anything- and you make sure to tell him every day. I hc that people call you the parents of the group. Your guys’ bathroom is very clean, well organized, and used quite often. he loves seeing you in his jersey when you’re brushing your teeth, on your way to heading to bed, makes him feel all fuzzy,, a feeling that was quite foreign to him until you came along.

@spikesbimbo valentine... is that even a question- Aran. duh. Pretty lady, both of you are CRAZY for each other except he shows you in little ways (in public) that make your heart spin. You know those pictures of Vanessa hudgens and Austin butler?? the one where she’s twirling around and he’s just smiling? that’s the vibe I get in the relationship; you’re fun, loud, and outwardly fun while he’s just happy to be in your presence!! you make him laugh... a lot. It’s really refreshing to most of his friends. You and you’re cute goofy ass are just so important to him. I see it now- you guys are shopping at an outdoor mall, drinks in your hand and he’s carrying most of your guys’ purchases in one hand while the other is being swung by you. You’ve got big doe eyes as you look at every store, until you turn around, and flash him the biggest smile. “Want some? I’m almost out!” You’d say as you thrust him the drink. He’ll smile, a flash of pearly whites greeted you as he nodded and said a small “yeah,” before wrapping his lips around the straw.

@hajimeshon-ee menace, baby. it’s obviously gonna be iwa for you. big beefy to help you fight people who are being assholes. those same beefy arms that pull you in from behind- your back against his front. LOTS OF FUCKING FOREHEAD KISSES. ESPECIALLY WHEN YOURE POUTING TO HIM. sorry I don’t make the rules. He honestly thinks you’re the cutest thing, your fire matches his and sometimes actually stumps him to where he has no retorts. He likes to help you with your work sometimes, like when he sees it’s a bit too overwhelming for you, he’ll wordlessly sit down and take some of the papers that have been scattered across the table. Later you take the time to show him how grateful you are, wether it’s through a night where he gets to choose what both of you will watch or.. other things... he’ll appreciate every single second.

@kuroosusagichan meeeellll <3 business man kuroo is summoning you on his lap, he can’t focus unless you’re with him!! Oh GOD the dynamic Between you two makes me lightheaded!! Okay so idk is this is obvious but like dude has a size kink- not just sexually though. It’s like a cute AND sexy thing for him. Dude just loves how tiny and soft you are. But don’t get it twisted, he’s not completely fooled by your innocent act- you’re a clever little minx sometimes, but most of the time youre just the sweetest person. You’re like the angel that holds him back from being an asshole. He likes himself better when you’re around. Oh but he’ll also call you chibi-chan. Period. OH YEA! loves it when you show up to his place of work- no matter how swamped he is, he’ll always make time for his little sweetheart. You like to visit when you saw he was visibly stressed in the mornings, you bring him little things taht make him smile like his favorite iced tea or your a sweet lil cookie. He’ll make you stay with him for the rest of the day, doing your own separate things but also being in each other’s company relaxes the both of you.

@scorpiomoonslutt hey bitch, you needy lil whore <3 it’s gotta be Ushijima for me. Your size kink is just.................... thrown in his face and my god he’s living. You make him realize things he didn’t even think were possible- but anything is possible with you, apparently. The way his eyes go WIDE when he hears you SNAP at people. He had no idea that someone so small.. could shut someone up that fast... especially when it’s someone almost twice her size. He actually doesn’t even know how to react when the other person leaves, there’s wayyyy too many things going on in his head. He’s proud, impressed, turned on, curious, but most of all- speechless. He kinda... wants to see you do that again.

@dymphnasprose dymphna !! kyoutani!!! It just makes sense!! big angri boy needs parts on the head from a saint, such as yourself. He knows you’re not looking to fix him- which is why he allowed himself to open up to you. You love him just the way he is and it almost drove him a lil nuts. I could see the breaking point now- just before you two would get together. He would be yelling at you, screaming things like “how could you possibly like me ?” At first he wouldn’t let you get close to him but after several steps that never budged when he neared you, he gradually let you touch his heated skin. He was breathing heavy, trying to put together how someone so wonderful could be interested in someone who was so angry. I just feel that you would cup his face and whisper, “I like you because you’re you- it doesn’t matter who I am in comparison to you. I like you, taro.” There would be no need for gushy details, that alone opened a small part of his heart to love- throughout the years, the opening continued to grow and grow. He would be someone who just!! Loves you!!! And hates the rest of the world <3 idk I just love it jdbsjnd

[dayseternal-blog]

A summer job at the Dole pineapple cannery, graveyard shift 10 PM to 6 AM. A long bus ride into and out of town. Two teens, shy beside each other.

Written for NaruHina 2020 August - Cultures/Around the World

Rated G

Inspired by “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery (emmykay)

Here we go, a story I've worked on since November of last year. Despite the months of creation, this story is simply boy meets girl. This one is close to my heart, and I've second-guessed posting it.

It's loosely based on my parents' high school stories and how they met, and the experiences from many recorded accounts of people from that generation, the 1970s. I wrote this mostly with the intention of diving into and imagining their time period.

Finally completed, of course it’s late for August, in true spirit, I stay on island time.  This story is titled after “About You” by Cecilio & Kapono, a 1975 Hawaiian pop classic.  

One Shot - About You

The bus bumps and lurches on the potholes.

She notes when they pass by a friend’s house, lit only by the dim orange street lamps over dark driveways.  There are so few cars out on the road that every time the bus pulls over and the door opens, she can hear the high-pitched hum of crickets in the grass.  It’s all a familiar rhythm that might have put her to sleep on any other night.  But she already took a long nap, readying her internal clock for the new schedule.

She’ll be taking this route for the rest of the summer, heading from the bus stop next to the local library straight to the cannery.

It feels alright, better than she was expecting.  She was worried it would feel lonely--her friends are all working the cannery, too, but in the daytime.  She wanted the extra nickel the night shift earns, bringing her up to $1.40 per hour.  

She’s always thinking ahead--the more money she manages to save now for business college, the less she will need to work later.

The bus slows down to a stop, picking up probably the last passenger before it gets on the freeway straight to town.

She relaxes into her seat, settling in for the drive out of the suburbs.

“Hinata?”

That’s weird that someone would know her at this hour.

She turns her face away from the window and sees him standing in the aisle, as if he was about to sit down in the row in front of her.  “N-Naruto?”  She regrets her stutter.  She just wasn’t expecting to see him.  At all.  

“Hey!  Howzit?”  He looks genuinely surprised to see her, too.

“Good...”  She returns his bright grin with a shy smile of her own.  She tucks a lock of loose hair behind her ear.  “I’m heading to the cannery.”

“You working cannery, too?”

“Yeah...are you?”

“Yup.  Gotta make dat extra nickel, yeah?”  He smiles disarmingly as she nods, and he takes a seat.  

She wants to relax.  But she can’t.

Because it’s him.

All 5 feet 9 inches of beautiful boy sitting in front of her on a relatively empty bus.  He’s taller than the average local Japanese, due to his hapa blood.  And as if height wasn’t enough to make him attractive to all the girls, he’s funny.  And clever.  Athletic and nice.  A little rascal, but that only increases his charm.  She has so much adrenaline pumping through her from that one tiny conversation, she knows she’ll be exhausted before they even get to Honolulu Harbor.

-

The forewoman, a middle-aged Portuguese lady, takes her and another girl named Tenten to the lockers.  “Wear dis.”  She passes them a white apron and hairnet.  “You girls get gloves?”

They both nod, pulling out their plastic gloves, required in the job description.

The lady glances at the gloves, bored expression unchanging.  “Follow.”

Hinata tucks all of her hair up into the net, and she knows she probably looks like an enoki mushroom, dressed now all in white.

They follow the forewoman to the assembly floor.

“Here.”  She hands them knives with the same carelessness of someone who’s been doing this for ages.  “Take all da extra skin off cuz da machine no get ‘m all, look, but gotta do ‘m fas’ kine ah.  No let da pines go down widdout cleaning ‘m,” she explains, pointing and waving at the conveyor belt.  

Hinata nods.  Four girls stand silently before a machine that’s spitting out bright yellow, skinned pineapples.  They grab at them quickly, and then with practiced flicks of their wrist, they nick off the remaining bits into slots for the rubbish.  They put the pineapples back down on the belt, where the fruit runs along to another set of girls, who give them another checkover.  Further down, the fruit runs into a machine with circling blades that chop them into slices.  

Rows and rows of young women dressed in white aprons with mushroom-netted heads stand around conveyors and machines.  

Young men cross over the upper ladders and walkways carrying pineapples to dump into the machines and sticks to poke at the fruit in the chutes to prevent jamming.  

The smell of pineapples is pervasive, sickly in its sweetness.

Not too much later, a bell shrills throughout the warehouse, and she’s taking over for a girl who’s now off-duty.  She grabs at the pineapples, turning the weighty fruit over in her palm and cutting brown spots of skin off with the knife as quickly as she can.  Droplets of pineapple juice stick to her gloves, and soon enough, the juice is dripping down the latex.

She’s not thankful for the gloves for long.

The juice runs down, and every stretch of her arm to grab at the fruit or place it back down feels sticky in the crook of her elbow.

Minutes turn into hours of watching pineapples.

She has no idea how the world eats so many pineapples.  

How is it possible that people love pineapples this much?  That the machinery is rarely turned off?  That all of the state’s teenagers are employed every summer to work the fields and machines practically 24/7?  

As unfathomable as it is, she finds a strange awe for the tropical fruit that she never had before.  To pass the time as she trims the skin, she imagines where these pineapples are going.  Who’s going to buy these pineapples.  What country they’ll end up in and what language the people speak there.  And whether they have ever seen a whole pineapple before.

But then again, maybe they’re all just going to the Mainland.  Women who look like the movie stars with perfectly curled, blonde hair will open the cans for their families.

The bell rings, the machines stop.

They have 30 minutes.

The more veteran workers zip off to the lunchroom, not waiting for anyone.

Hinata smiles tiredly at Tenten.  

“Whew,” the Chinese girl sighs.

Hinata nods in agreement.  “I never seen so many pineapples before, I think.”

“Yeah, me, neither.”  Her brows raise to emphasize the point.

-

By the time they get off at 6 in the morning, dawn is breaking, traffic is slowly building along Nimitz Highway, and she knows she must absolutely stink of pineapples.

But Naruto waves and stands beside her as they wait for the bus, as if he doesn’t care.  Maybe he can’t smell her, desensitized now after so long in the warehouse.  “Morning, Hinata,” he laughs, and the joke is not lost on her.  

She smiles weakly, only his good attitude motivating her.  “Good morning,” she manages to reply.  She’s too exhausted to feel shy about standing beside her crush.  After all, she was standing for the last several hours.  All she wants is to sit down.

“How wuz it?” he asks conversationally.

She pinches her lips into a tight frown.  “I had to trim the pines at the ginaca.”  She gestures halfheartedly with her hands, showing him the flick of an imaginary knife she used.  All night.  She’s almost certain that she’s the machine now.  “What did you do?”

“Oh, wuz pretty neat!  I jus’ had to keep da cans moving on da belt an’ stick da lids inside da kine, machine, and then the cans pop out.  I did da tops.”

She blinks at him.  Forces a weak smile out that she barely feels in her heart.  Sounds easy…  But that’s to be expected, after all, women usually handle food anyway.

“No can wait fo’ sit down, yeah!” he laughs.  He doesn’t sound tired, but it occurs to her that maybe he never does.  His natural excitement is what makes him popular in the first place.

She nods.

When the bus pulls up to the curb, Naruto lets her get on in front of him.

The bus driver pulls a face as she pays.

She frowns, a hot blush spreading over her cheeks.  She tried to clean up as best she could after her shift, but apparently, it really was all for naught.

“Go in da back!” the driver directs, none too friendly.

She does so, even though the front seats aren’t full.

Naruto laughs outright as he pays, unashamed at his own stink.  “What, uncle, wen try fo’ wash off, still stay pilau?”

“Eesh,” the driver utters in response to the teen’s cheekiness.

She doesn’t know how he’s not embarrassed, nor how he’s able to talk back to strangers like it’s nothing.  It’s just another case in point of her admiration and curiosity of him.  She picks an aisle-facing seat, and, to her surprise, Naruto sits right next to her, his knees spreading open.

She’s not as tired as she thought.

Nerves race up her legs.  She stares at her hands, which she carefully places on her knees, which are closely pressed together as ladylike as possible.  Not a single part of her touches him.  She thinks she might die if their legs touch.

And that’s how she doesn’t doze off on the long ride back home.

-

He meant to brag to his friends about working graveyard shift when he saw them that first weekend.  Sure, the hours are junk, but, Ho, should see da chicks!

Particularly the one he rides the bus with.  Hinata Hyuuga.  A small, Japanese girl.  Brains and looks.  Not to mention her unusual, light eyes, making you question her race.  But, nah, no real question about it, she’s Japanese through and through with her shy, quiet manner.  She’s someone he imagines could win the Cherry Blossom Festival pageant with her smooth skin and round eyes.  He and the guys always steal a poster of the new year’s contestants from the supermarket window.  Pictures of pretty Japanese girls’ profiles all lined up, free to admire.  She could definitely win.  If she ever tried.  But she’s not very personable.

Not that that ever stopped him from talking to whoever he wants to talk to.

Yet he ended up not mentioning anything about Hinata to his friends.  Not the next week, either.

Somehow, she just comes off as out-of-his-league.  At least, he’s certain that’s what his friends would say.  Just mentioning her would probably earn him jokes.  He’s pretty sure she’s in all the high, smart classes.  But he doesn’t know much about that--and she’s a year younger than him.  He only knows her because his social club had a gathering with hers last year, invited by Sakura.  There’re lots of pretty girls in that social club, and, unusually, it has girls over two grade levels.  Just the younger girls didn’t catch his attention last year.

Needless to say, he’s thinking about her now.

Not much else to think about while he drops lids into the machine.  It’s monotonous work, but he knows now that his job is way, way better than Hinata’s.

-Two weeks ago-

His jaw dropped when he saw her on the bus the second night.

She had covered her arms self-consciously with her hands when he got on.

Of course, that action was what drew his attention.

Bright.  Red.  Streaks and bumps.  A rash.  Mottling her fair skin in the crook of her elbows to the middle of her forearms.  Both sides.

“From da pines?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded, her eyes turning down, as if somehow the rash was a personal fault.  

He looked away, realizing his staring was only making her feel worse.  “You have da kine..sensitive skin?”  He wondered belatedly if talking about it would only make her feel worse worse.

“Umm...yeah…”  Her voice sounded even quieter than her usual.

He frowned awkwardly, though she didn’t see it.  He sat down beside her, still looking away.  “Jeez.  Das real junk.”  He swallowed back his strange feeling of guilt.  Her pain wasn’t his fault.  Her job placement wasn’t his fault.  So why did he feel like he was partially responsible...?  “Uh, dere anyting fo’ do about it?”  He suddenly felt like cringing at the sound of his own pidgin.  His heavy speech just further emphasized his upbringing compared to hers.  Someone classy like her shouldn’t be doing a job like that, right?  “‘Cuz like, can only get worse, yeah?  You get medicine fo’ put on or someting?”  He couldn’t help jabbering on and on.  When he starts feeling uncomfortable, that’s just what happens.

Thankfully, she continued the conversation.  “Mhm.  I saw yesterday some of th’ other workers wuz wearing two gloves.”  She opened her purse and pulled out a pair.  The hands were cut off.  “Like this, see?”  She pulled the glove on over her elbow like a sleeve, then pulled another, uncut one on so that they overlapped on her forearm.  

“Ho, neat idea, yeah?”  He nodded in approval.

She smiled in response.  “The juice no can get inside, I think, yeah?”

“Yeah!” he emphasized.

She smiled a little more, obviously not embarrassed anymore by her arms.

And he felt proud of himself for getting them out of that uncomfortable start to the bus ride.  Felt oddly self-satisfied that he got her to smile.  Decided right then and there that he was pretty interested in her.

But he hasn’t really made a move, yet.  The thought that she might turn him down is there.  He’s been turned down enough times that rejection isn’t really what’s bugging him.  It’s that she never seems to be in a good mood after their shift is done.  That, and he doesn’t want it to be uncomfortable for the rest of the summer in case she does reject him.  He would still have to catch the bus with her every night and morning.  Too bad his dad doesn’t let him take the car to work.  He gets it, though.  His dad needs the car to go to work.

Well, he’ll figure it out later.

The bell screams, signaling the start of their lunch break.

He joins a group of Farrington guys he befriended over the course of the two weeks.  There’re a lot of them working at the cannery, being that the high school is only a neighborhood away from the warehouse district.

“Eh, Naruto, you surf?” Omoi, a dark-skinned Filipino boy with sun-bleached ehu hair, asks.

“Yeah,” he answers, excitement bubbling.  But only on the weekends with Shikamaru and Choji.  He lives central, not at all close to the ocean, making beach trips longer than ideal.  “Why, whatchu thinking?”

A guy they call “C,” Naruto has no idea what it’s short for, leans forward.  “We go dawn patrol, Kewalo’s.”

Right after their shift, at the surf break at Kewalo Basin.  Sounds solid.  “Eh, shoots, we go!  Tomorrow den?”

“Yeah,” Omoi affirms.  “Prolly gon wash da pine stink off, yeah?”

C’s eyes widen at Omoi’s shoes, shaking his head.  “Eh, brah, I no tink so, you dripping pines ova hea, bet yo feet kill, phew!”

“You faka, you no can talk, da flies stay all buzzin’ ‘round you!” Omoi shoots back.

Naruto frowns, considering that Hinata has the same job as Omoi, one of the few guys assigned to a woman’s job.  Over the course of the job, Omoi’s shoes had soaked in pineapple juice that dripped from the cutting.  This didn’t seem to be as big a problem for Hinata, who, for some girly reason, wore sandals despite the long hours of standing.  “How come you no jus’ wea rubbah slippahs?”

Omoi shook his head with a serious expression.  “No can fo’ do dat brah.  I only get one good pair!  Already wen ruin deez shoes, no sense ruin my slippahs too.”

“Dis broke faka ova hea, he no get money fo’ buy one noddah pair from Long’s das why!” C laughs.

Naruto shakes his head, laughing out loud.  “No way you dat broke!”

Omoi turns to C, faux annoyance twisting his face.  “Eh dis haole ri’ hea like get lickins?”

Instead of looking threatened, C just humorously shoots back, “You like go, we go!”

“Go den, shoots we go,” Omoi answers, squaring up.

“Yeah den go cuz, shoots,” C threatens back.

But neither of them stand.

Naruto rolls his eyes at their idiotic banter.  Rarely is he the voice of reasoning, but he supposes it would be a different story if his school friends were here.  “Eh we go Kewalo’s shoots.”

They turn back to him, huge grins on.  “Yeah, we go!” Omoi says enthusiastically.

“Bring your board yeah?” C reminds him as the bell rings again.

“Yeah!”

He tells Hinata that he can’t go back with her the next day, and she just nods and smiles.  Tells him to have fun.

And it’s a slight relief to not worry about the ride back home with her.  He’s starting to feel like maybe she’s expecting him to ask her out since they spend so much time together.  Well, really, he’s expecting that of himself, but he just can’t right now.

She’s just not any other girl at school in these current circumstances.

-

Hinata never meant to be one of those girls.

One of those girls, picked up on a stretcher and taken to the medical room to recuperate.

But on the first day of her period, she was exactly one of those girls.

She was feeling so tired.  Legs like jelly.  Sore up her thighs.  Aches digging around her lower back.  A weighty twisting in her core.  A heavy day.  It made her feel lightheaded.

The pineapples, one after another, going by, making her feel a little dizzy, like maybe she needed to close her eyes.

Shutting her eyes for a second didn’t help.

A breath, two breaths, intentional breaths.

She felt like maybe she was going to make herself start hyperventilating, the opposite of what she wanted.  She wanted to breathe normally.

Focus on the pineapple.

It felt too heavy in her hand.

Her focus sliding off the pineapple, to the sticky yellow glint of the knife.  Back to the pineapple.

She looked up, dazed, her eyes taking too long to adjust to a point on the far wall.

“Hinata, you alright?” Tenten asked.

She tried to refocus on the girl on the opposite side of her.  She nodded, blinking, trying to concentrate on their job.

“You don’t look alright.”  Her voice was too loud, like everything else going on.

Too loud, pounding.

She closed her eyes, heat searing her temples.

-

“-nata?  Hinata?”

She slowly gains consciousness, to find Naruto looking down at her.

“You okay?  You wen faint dey said.”

“Oh,” she manages to utter, trying to get her bearings as the room and bed take shape in her mind, blinking away the dazed vestiges of sleep.  “W-what time is it?”

“Our shift only pau now.”

“Oh.”

“You feeling okay?”

She slowly sits up, nodding.  “Yeah.”  She must not have been out for that long.  She really thought she would make it to the end of the night.  “Were you waiting for me?” she asks, suddenly panicked at the realization that he is here with her.

“Ah, nah, nah.  I come in jus’ now.”  He gestures at the door.  “You weren’ out dere, so I jus’ wen ask somebahdy.  Dey said you wuz in hea.”

“Oh.”  That’s good that he wasn’t waiting for her to wake up, but, still, she never expected him to do something like this.  “You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs.  “No problem.  Ready fo’ go?  Can walk or..?”

She nods, scooching off the bed-like table.

And he walks with her to check-out with one of the heads, and then back to the bus stop.  Waits with her there.  And when it’s obvious that he’s going back with her despite the longboard he’s been holding this whole time, she haltingly brings it up.  “You not...going surfing?”

He shakes his head carelessly.  “Nah, I go tomorrow.”

She ducks her head, biting her lips.  “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, nah, waves not hitting today, so.”  He shrugs, looking past her for the bus.

Obviously an outright lie, but she accepts it over drawing out such an uncomfortable situation.

“You no feel good today?”  He sounds honestly concerned.

“Um, I felt fine earlier.”  Well, in truth, she felt okay.  The normal period cramps.  As okay as a heavy day can be.

“You not sick?”

She shakes her head.  She wants to sit down.  The bench has the older workers sitting down, so she never gets to sit until the bus comes.  She shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to relieve the weight from her hips and pelvis.

It’s such a relief when the bus comes.  She ignores the bus driver’s daily grimace and makes for the back row as quickly as she can.

He watches her sit down, audibly sigh, and her whole body kind of just melts into the stiff chair.  It’s obvious that out of all the days so far, she’s the most tired today.

Or has she been like this?  He just didn’t know because he’s been avoiding her in the mornings?

Ten minutes into the long ride, he’s thinking that it’s a good thing he’s going home with her today because…he thinks she’s falling asleep.  Her head keeps jerking in his peripheral vision, so he decides to stop being considerate and turn to look straight at her.

Her eyes are drooping heavily, she’s blinking really hard...she is falling asleep.  Or, trying really hard not to.

“Hinata.”

“Huh?”  Her eyes fly wide open, obviously forcing herself.

“Sleep, I go wake you up later.”

Her cheeks redden.  “Oh, no, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t trust him, or…what?  She’s embarrassed?

“You sure?”

She nods.  “Yeah.”  Her voice sounds too breathy to be fine, but if she says so...

It’s no surprise to him when her body starts slumping over, her head weighing the rest of her body down and toward the seats in front of them.

She’d be even more embarrassed about this position, right?  So he reaches over to grab both her shoulders and kind of push her back upright.

Well, that’s what he meant to do.

Her eyes open as if spooked, and she straightens out of his hands.  “Sorry!” she gasps.  Expression all pinched, she looks like she feels really ashamed.

About what, though?  If anything, he feels bad about how tired she is.  “No,” he reassures.  “No worry ‘bout me.”  He’s trying his best to sound comforting…  “Should get some rest, s’okay, I go wake you up befo’ my stop.  Trus’ me.”

Her eyes squint, like she’s straining to focus.  “...maybe.  But I don’t like sleep..on da bus.”

He can’t help a laugh.  “Ha, you look like you goin’ give yourself da kine whiplash back-an-for'-li’ dat, jus’ relax.”

“Mm…”  A noncommittal answer, but one that doesn’t argue, so he can’t push the issue any further, either.

They settle back into the sound of the engine roaring along the highway, and pretty soon, her body’s starting to lean over again.  He refrains from helping her, even though she looks uncomfortable.

She looks like she’s going to wake up with a sore neck.  Her blood’s probably rushing to her head in that position.  That’s not good, right?  She literally just had a fainting spell not too long ago.  So having her head lean against the rattling window pane wouldn’t be ideal, either.  Since they’re sitting at the back, she might really conk her head hard if the bus has to stop.

With more care than the first time, he tries to guide her to lean against him.

For a moment, her eyelids and brows wiggle and bunch up, but swiftly return to their placid state.

It’s nice.

She’s nice.

He should ask her out.  She doesn’t ignore him or outwardly show any disinterest, so…sometime he’ll do it.  Just of course not today.

When he sees that he’s getting close to his stop, he calls her name, “Hinata.  Hinata.”

“Mm.”  She sits up and blinks, a hand hurriedly wiping her mouth.

Drool?  He’s trying not to smile like a goofball, but kind of failing at hiding his selfish amusement.  “I gotta get off now.  You gon’ be okay?”

She nods, making eye contact for a second, only for her gaze to immediately skitter away to some unknown point on the bus floor.

“‘Kay, you take care, yeah?”

She nods again, still refusing to look at him, her hands busy everywhere touching her face and then her hair, fixing who-knows-what.  She murmurs something.

“Huh?” he asks in a knee-jerk reaction before his brain pieces together that it sounded like an apology.  “Oh, no need say dat.”  He reaches over to pull the cord for his stop and grins.  “Maybe I see you tomorrow, yeah?”

She nods, glances up at him for a second, and looks down once more.

He gets off the bus feeling pretty good about himself in the bright morning sun.

Only to realize--

Maybe he should have made sure she got home all the way.

Maybe he should have gotten off at her stop with her.

The library isn’t really that far a walk back to his own home.

…

She’s probably fine, right?

She wouldn’t have fallen asleep again, right?

Why did she faint anyway?

Should he have asked more?

His consciousness won’t let up.  He could call, but if he calls, then he really probably will need to ask her out eventually.  Well, he plans on it anyway, but if he calls, then that would really solidify things, and she’d expect something from him by, like, tomorrow.  

Well, that’s all hypothetical.  If he can even find her name in the phonebook...

...He finds it.

“Who you calling?” his mom asks, teasing him, as she pops up beside him in the kitchen.  “Noddah one of your girlfriends?”

“...No…”

“Ohh, you asking a girl out?  Why you no jus’ call her?  She goin’ turn you down, ah!” she laughs, all by herself.  “Who like go out wit you, ah?”  Her laughter rings throughout the house.

He wishes he could yell at her to shut up, but then she’d go get the slipper and give him some serious dirty lickins.

So he keeps his eyes on the phonebook, and with his mom’s derision motivating him, picks up the receiver and hooks his finger into the first digit, gaining self-confidence with each pull, release, and spin of the dial.

If it’s the parents, then that’s fine.  He’ll make a good impression.  Maybe.  He doesn’t need to talk to Hinata, he just wants the family to know that she fainted.  He gets the feeling Hinata’s not the type to talk about things like that to her family.

But then...maybe the cannery already called them about it.

The dial tone ends.

He takes a readying breath.  “...Hello?”

“Hello?”  It’s a young girl’s voice.

“Is this Hinata’s house?” he continues, desperately trying to imitate a school valedictorian or maybe a teacher...

“...Yeah...Who’s this?”

“This is Naruto...I, uh, work same place, at da cannery.”

“...She’s not home, yet.  And she’s not supposed to talk to boys.”

What?  I tought she in dat social club?  “Well, I no need talk to her.  I jus’ like you guys know that, uh, she wen fainted at work, yeah.”

“...”

“...So, she should be home soon, I get off da bus a little befo’ her, I jus’ like try check she gets home okay..yeah..”

“...Okay.”  In the background, he hears a faint voice talking before the girl on the line continues, “It’s a boy.”

“Huh?”

“He’s saying Hinata fainted at work.  And that she should be home soon.”

He realizes she’s talking to someone else, so he awkwardly waits.

“Okay, ...uhhmm...”  Her voice trails out for a solid second.

She talking to me now?  “Oh, yeah?”

“Thank you, I’m gonna go meet her.  Bye.”

“Oh-”  The line cuts, his own goodbye stuck in his throat.  He places the receiver back down, uncertain what to make of that whole exchange, wondering what about it left him dissatisfied.  He did what he meant to do, after all...  That must have been a younger sister.

“Hinata?  You neva talk about her befo’,” his mom observes as she gathers her things for work.  “You met her at da cannery?”

“No, she one year youngah dan me at sku’.”

“She wen faint?  Why you neva walk her back home, ah?!”

“I no tink dat until aftah!” he defends.  “Das why I wen call!”

“You no can get one decent girlfriend acting li’dat, ah!, dis stupid son of mine, ahh, ah, if you jus’ focus on sku’ mo’, get bettah grades, get mo’ smartah, ah,” his mom tuts and laments off on a tangent, and he ignores her.

He sees her off for work at the door, his mind turning back to whether he needs to ask Hinata out tomorrow.  Especially since, “She’s not supposed to talk to boys.”  What’s that about?

-

He never does find out.  There’s no way he could ask such a question, and the summer passes too fast for him to face her plainly.  He’s not sure why, but whenever he imagines her turning him down, the idea hurts a lot more than it should.

Logically, he knows itʻs just a yes or no answer.  He’s been turned down here and there.  He’s gone on numerous dates, danced with girls, and played silly social games with the opposite sex at parties.  And concerning Hinata, she’s a year younger than him, so the chances of seeing her on campus are a lot smaller, so he wouldn’t have to face her that often if she does turn him down.

So why can’t he just ask her out?

-

She held out hope.

She thanked him profusely the day after, and he was extremely nice to her.  He went back on the bus with her for that entire following week's shifts, making sure she was okay, before he determined that she was safe enough without him.

He went back to surfing in the mornings.

The day of their last shift, she held out so much hope.

He didn’t ask her out.

So she tries to shrug it off.

The disappointment.

The deep, far too deep, disappointment.  She’s probably just not his type.

But to her surprise, that’s not the last time she sees him before school starts.

Their social clubs host a joint car wash to raise money.

She pushes down her shy feelings, knowing that if he has absolutely no interest in dating her, then there’s really no reason for her to act strangely around him.  It would simply be rude of her to ignore him after spending all summer the way they did on the bus together.  Gathering her courage, she walks up to him and calls out his name, “Naruto!  Hi!”  She smiles, hoping to appear as cheerful as possible.

“Oh!”  He turns from his friends, already knowing whose voice it was, but still caught off-guard.

She’s dressed really casually--in shorts, a shirt, and rubber slippers, obviously appropriate for the day’s work, but still strange to see on her.  He somehow thought maybe she didn’t own casual clothes like that.

“Hinata!  Hi!” he responds, a little belatedly.  He feels really stupid, somehow his grin feels unnatural, too tense.  He watches her smile again and then turn back to her friends.

Something gnaws at his consciousness, like he missed out on saying or doing something he should have done in that moment.  Ask her how she’s been in the past week?  He just saw her not too long ago, so that would be dumb to ask.

“Whose dat again?”

He blinks out of his stare and turns to Sasuke.

“Hinata.  Hinata Hyuuga.  We bo’ worked night shift at da cannery.”

“You ask her out?”

“...No, nah yet…” he admits, nerves crawling around, making him feel guilty out of nowhere.

Sasuke raises a brow.  “You like her?”

He shrugs his shoulders, frowning, trying to play off the intrusive question as nothing to him.  “...Yeah…”

Now both of Sasuke’s brows are raised.

Naruto shifts uncomfortably.  Every single second here is making him realize he should’ve gotten the deed done and over with already.  Now she’s around all of his fellow club members.  Any one of the other guys could ask her out by the end of the day.

She could take a liking to one of his friends.  He realizes that his chances were so much higher when it was just the two of them.

-

She and Sakura walk around helping to pass out sponges and buckets.  They introduce themselves to several boys, all of them very friendly.

Hinata herself feels very friendly.  After her act of courage in facing Naruto, after getting that difficult exchange done with, she feels pretty bold.

She’s in this social club to have fun!  She won’t let a little one-sided crush damper her day!

True that none of the other guys are as naturally magnetic as Naruto, but she knows that first impressions aren’t everything.  All of these guys in his social club seem perfectly nice, helping to fill and carry the heavy buckets of water for the girls.

She sets to work on a car, excitedly engaging in discussions about the new school year with whoever works beside her.  And with an observant eye, she manages to not work on the same side of a car as Naruto.

Two hours pass in laughter and good spirits, even with how the noonday sun beats down, pouring heat over the asphalt lot.

The once cool water comes out hot from the hose, and the buckets are just puddles of liquid sun she has to dunk her hand and sponge into as infrequently as possible.

The constant bending is nothing to her, though.  After a whole summer of cannery work on her feet, she’s pretty sure she’s more fit than last year.  She’s not even sweating as much as she thought she would.

Until she gets up too fast.

Her head sears hot, her vision darkening into pinpoints of bright light.

She tries to squint, to see through the sudden tunnels of black, but her eyes burn, and just as quickly, she feels off-balance, her head too heavy to hold up.

She crouches down, face in her hands, confused and pained.

“Hinata, you okay?”  Sakura, most likely.

“I can’t see.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t see,” she repeats, trying to stay calm despite the painful splotches of color beneath her eye lids.  “It hurts.”  And she feels like she’s going to pass out, but she refuses to embarrass herself like that in front of everyone.

“Oh my gosh… Water.  Water!” Sakura says louder.

“Wut’s wrong!”  Another voice.

Oh no, not that voice.

“She’s dehydrated I think!”

“Oh shit,” he curses.

Hinata sits as still as possible, focusing on not tipping over into a ball and fainting right there on the dirty, poky ground.  Not again.

“Here, water,” Sakura says, her voice stressed and concerned.  “Can you raise your head?”

“Mm.”  She slowly lifts her face and opens her mouth.

A plastic water bottle is placed at her lips, lukewarm liquid flowing onto her tongue.  She drinks it dutifully, the pain in her head clearing rather quickly.

She eventually pushes the water bottle away and wipes her lips on the back of her hand.  “Thank you,” she breathes out, relieved that her head’s weight is starting to feel normal again.  But she keeps her eyes closed, too afraid to strain her vision.  Or to see if she attracted everyone’s attention...or to find out if Naruto is still there.

“Do you feel better?” Sakura asks, still sounding way more worried than necessary.

“Yeah, thank you, Sakura.”

“Can you see?”

“I don’t know…”  She doesn’t want to test herself too soon, but she cracks her eyes open, if only to assure Sakura that she’s okay.

The world is a bright fog through the slight cracks of her eyelids.

But it doesn’t hurt.

“I’ll be able to see fine in a minute, I think.”

Sakura sighs in relief.  “Good.”

A random boy whose deep voice she doesn’t recognize asks what happened.

“She dehydrated,” Naruto answers.

Hinata doesn’t know whether to feel flattered or dreadfully embarrassed that he’s still there.

“Oh, das not good,” the other boy assesses.

“Yeah…” Naruto agrees.

“I’ll be fine in a moment!” Hinata pipes up, her personality automatically choosing to feel embarrassed.

The unknown guy makes a sound of uncertainty.

“Yeah, Hinata,” Sakura adds on.  “I don’t think you should help out right away.  You could’ve gotten heatstroke.”

“Heatstroke?” she asks.

“Dere’s no shade ‘round hea,” Naruto comments.

Hinata slowly forces her eyes to adjust, hoping to prove them all wrong.  “I can see.  I’m fine.”  She starts to get up carefully.

More sounds of uncertainty resound behind her, and she hates how all three of them are treating her like she could collapse at any moment.

Like, even if she could collapse at any moment, even if that is what just happened, she doesn’t want this to be how everyone sees her from now on.  Like some weak, stupid girl who forgets to drink water on a hot day.

Even if that is what she is.

“I can take her home.”  Naruto’s invitation has her finally turning around to face her audience.

To her relief, it’s just the three of them, Sakura, Naruto, and a pretty, black-haired Japanese boy she’s seen him hanging out with.

“Yeah, take her home,” the pretty boy says.  He claps Naruto’s arm.

Naruto gives some kind of smile that’s really cute, and Hinata has to force herself to try not to examine anything he’s said or done in the past five minutes.

He made her over-examine his behavior all summer, only for it to amount to nothing.  He’s just really nice and treats her like a good friend.  That’s all.

Sakura helps her walk to his car.

And all too soon, she’s sitting right next to him.

Naruto starts up the engine, blasting the AC so that cool air roars onto their heated faces.

“I’m sorry.”  She gulps down a knot of discomfort in her throat, already regretting so much.

“Nah, no need say dat.”  His stomach feels sore, his legs antsy.  He was trying to nonchalantly work on the cars by her, but somehow, he wonders if she was avoiding him.

She’s too nice to do that, right?  She never tried to avoid him at their summer job…

He needs to gauge her interest in him.  So after he backs out of the parking space and safely makes it into traffic, he ventures conversation.  “How you feeling now?”

She nods.  “I feel better.  I could’ve stayed, I think…”

“...Oh…”  He’s already on Moanalua Home Road, and turning around now would be humbug.  “Are you sure?”

“Mm…”  She’s not sure.  She just doesn’t want to seem so frail.

“‘S'okay, ya know?  Already get plenny help, das why, no need chance 'm.”

“Mm...okay… Thank you...I’m sorry…”

With conversation finding its natural, quick end, he finds himself wracking his brain for ideas.  He has about five more minutes with her before they get to her house.  I should ask her out...I should just ask her...just ask her…

“Oh, I like this song.”

“Hm?”  He turns the radio up, glad to focus on something outside of his brain.  “Oh, yeah!”

It’s a newish one by Cecilio and Kapono, one he imagines will be really popular at social club dances, the slow tempo is perfect.

Not knowing what else to do to fill the silence, she starts singing softly.  She can tell he’s glancing at her, but she keeps her eyes fixed determinedly forward, her gut turning to jelly as the romantic meaning registers in her mind.  “...Our small moment that we shared, Is only yours and mine, No one else is really going to know, That I care about you…”

His cheeks flush.  This song really is perfect for a social club dance.  He never paid that much attention to the lyrics, but with her soft voice singing them, the words are suddenly resonating, hitting a little too close-to-home.

“And all the questions that I asked myself about you…”

He's made up his mind.  He’s going to ask her out.

“Won’t you come and be with me…”

Right after this song.

“That if you come and stay you’re going to see, That I care about you.”

He relaxes into his seat, his grasp, unintentionally tight on the wheel, relaxes, too.  If she's comfortable enough to sing in his presence, then there's nothing stopping him from feeling comfortable, too.  It's actually really nice to know that she's willing to do something like this with him.  He's stressed out for nothing.  He's hesitating for nothing.  And maybe, if things work out, this feeling...this moment...would be normal...

She peeks at him, and...he’s smiling.  He’s not teasing, laughing, or grimacing at her.  So she continues singing, relieved.

When the song finishes, he lowers the volume, reassured, readier than ever.  “Hinata…”

She blinks, realizing they’re really close to her house, and Naruto doesn't know where to go.  “Oh!  You turn left at the intersection after this light.”

Jarred to the present, he suddenly notices his heart racing, despite how calm he felt not even ten seconds ago.  The words get lost on his tongue, and he simply follows her instructions, the opportune moment evaporating into nothing.

“It’s that house,” she points, and he slows, pulling over against the curb.

She turns to him to give her appreciation properly.

But he’s facing directly toward her, his usually cheerful expression one of uncharacteristic focus.

Her heart leaps into her throat.

“Hinata," he repeats.  "You like, go movies with me, sometime?”

She nods, speechless, because yes, yes, yes.

And he visibly relaxes.  He can breathe again.  Her agreement was so much easier than he thought it would be.  “I go check da listings den, okay?  And I’ll call you?”

She nods, eyes growing wide as everything starts to sink in.

He nods, too, an embarrassed smile working at his mouth.  “Talk to you later den, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, a smile forming in reaction.  In a fog of happiness, she steps out of the car, nearly forgetting.  “Oh, thank you for taking me home!”

He nods, thinking that this won't be the last time he makes sure she gets home.  He notices how her happy smile lights up her eyes like earlier at the carwash, but now, it’s directed at him, him only.  And once she disappears into her house, more than anything, he feels incredible relief.

And excitement.

He gets the feeling…

She gets the feeling…

This is going to last.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Comic buff with a thought, I notice the P5MM art and composition is more striking and closer to p5's art and style than the other manga, which is fine, but kinda... flat. (I find myself thinking there's something missing when I read it, then I look back at P5MM and I notice how there's more clever paneling, imagery, and stylistic choices akin to the games in it (like that one goro panel ya had a rant about) and I realize what's missing) That could be why P5MM is brought up more, just a guess. I dunno how you feel about all that though, I'm curious.

Under the cut cause it gets long cause of pictures:

I am very big on art style and visual presentation. I do actually judge a book by it's cover (manga, game, movie, show, yadda). If I find something pleasing to my eye I'll read it.....even if the contents are trash. Domestic Girlfriend is one, horrible manga (didn't finish, was holding out for Momo, aka best girl, and getting closure for her....then I bounced). Didn't watch the anime (didn't need to I was way ahead in the manga I think), but I know that opening is wasted on it. ldskfjaf Don't invest your time into it, it's not worth it, you would probably learn better morals from P5.......probably. But yeah I found the art style pleasing enough to try it out (I's not amazing by any means, but I like looking at it....or did.....that writing man....dat was bad ;w;).... *waves hands vaguely in air* yeah.

Fun fact, it's why I got into Persona. I happened across an ad for P4 on the PS2 in the Gameinformer magazine, it showed a screenshot from an animated cutscene plus one of the fully body art for the chars and I was like "Yes this is my jam!" (which only doubled down when I read what it was about, and it was a murder mystery and the article also talked up "the mystery of the glasses" which fakldjsalkfs yeah). So yeah it really clicked for me.

Tbh it's why I'm probably going to get back into freaking Bleach, and it's why I got into it and Naruto over One Piece (I don't think I'll ever read ON I'm sorry). Tite Kubo has sexy art what can I say? Can't trust a thing that man writes now but eh. It's also the reason I read a lot of Shojo (and now Yuri) manga, cause their art style is usually what I find very appealing (even if I've read the same gd shojo love story just by a different name for the 1000th time, give me the flowers and sparkly eyes! they are my life blood!)

And I've mentioned I really like Saito's art style. I've (attempted) to color some of his pieces on top of animate some manga frames (most of which I haven't actually published......I...I should....get around to finishing those up....haha...aha....haaaa). I really like his art, it's pleasant. But even with good art, I can still see past it and see what BS it's peddling and it can hamper my enjoyment of it. If I don't look at the context of the scene or the words on the page, I can be down with it. But when I'm reading.......I get annoyed. I balk at anything with Goro. I guffaw whenever Makoto's on screen (cause Saito nails her from P5, she acts useful but really she's useless but the narrative views her as useful it ironically makes her useless......it's the weirdest thing I've ever witnessed >.>). Like Saito really.....gets P5 it seems, down to it's flaws even (tho he can actually make the good parts of P5 shine, or at least parts that P5 failed to execute....execute in a way). But he also makes the flaws.....shine that much harder for me.

Now the Reg manga? it's nothing special art style wise, in fact it starts off VERY wonky, and while still wonky, has gotten a lot....better/cuter (esp Ryu). Not like shojo cute just.......I wanna squish their wittle faces cute (at times when it's not serious).

Like when it comes to Reg Manga these are the two pieces that have appeared in it that I feel kinda hit the P5 mark in terms of style:

(look at Mona, coming into this world like the pustule that he is 8U)

Which isn't much, but it's something. At least Reg's AOA is better looking than the anime. 8U

But I dunno, as the chapters go on, the Mangaka allows for more cuter expressions, and I just like their neat:

(btw I colored that page)

I dunno, it's not as overtly cutsey as Saito:

But they are still charming in a more simple way (without out having them go full chibi), it subtle but it gives it flavor. "Silly why are most, if not all those pics of Ryu and Anne?" I dunno guys maybe you should ask them how their backs are doing, cause they're the ones who are carrying the Reg manga when it comes to this! 8U

Tho I do think the first ch or two of Reg does a better job capturing P5's feel than the rest of the chapters, I think the mangaka is just.....bogged down by exposition and the game's BS that a lot of text on their pages so it almost reads like a novel:

ALots of text, not the most dynamic of framing with the panels. It's kinda eh. I haven't really read the manga past the 2nd dungeon tbh (I mean......as the residential #1 Makoto hater, I think that's fair.....that I'd start to zone out during my least fav dungeon....and then continue zoning out during my 2nd least fav dungeon askfdjaflk)

But during the first two dungeon arcs, I liked how.....bad the PT were at thieving, I liked how green they were. It was obviously a learning process. I also like some of the fight choreo (Saito did the best hand to hand one in the series in P4U's Yu vs Sho....which I actually animated....spoiler.....no I have no released that...my dumbass wants to tempt fate and see if I can redo it in color even tho it took me 4 days non stop to get that animated in just black and white.....but I am a fool so alas 8U). I mean it's not mind blowing, but it was simple and decently thought out, which is more than I feel like we usually get (esp with the anime shows....or at least P4/5's).

But I think what draws me in is....it's lack of P5 style. P5 style has them being still oh so cool despite being new at everything. It's tired me out. P5's how identity is style. It's....style over substance (gonna rile some feathers with that....Cvit(?) vid title). But P5 is overtly stylish, to the point it......weighs on me. Drags me down. Tires me out. I don't think they're cool, I'm bored with it. Ironically, Reg manga lacks that, which......def would make someone (and me usually) give it much of a passing glance. It's very basic I guess. But.....consider me, being in P5 hell, surrounded by all it's nausea inducing stylishness, sees a small break in the hellish hurricane to see.......normalcy. It kinda makes me connect better with the kids (kinda, it's still P5).

They feel like normal kids, trying to do their thing (sometimes trying to look/act cool and failing), and.....it's just the absolute antitheses to P5's brand......and I think that's why I like it. KLFJDSAFLKJA;

Anyway, who knows, maybe when I catch up on Reg in english and re-read MM with the official translation I might change my mind about a few things, or at least how I rank them. But for post length sake, and my sanity sake, I think I should keep the anime and mangas out of the "Which entry do you hate least" post......because I should just make another post where I go into both mangas as well as compare and contrast the anime! :D I'm just delaying some insanity for later haha....

Wait.........I just remember Day Breakers exists......and I liked it....still do....don't have much issue with it. Well shit, that is probably the one entry I hate the least. fklsdjfalkjdfkla;jsL;FJljsfdlskafaj *sobs* nO NO, I committed, and that's just a sad loophole. fdklsajflakfj *sobs* I still need to the game thing, cause let's be honest, the games are where it counts.

So right now my ranking for manga/anime is:

Daybreakers>Reg manga> MM>>>>>>>>>>TV Show Anime and it's OVAs (may the burn in the hell fire from which they spawned)

Oh, one last thing, forgot to put it in but I dunno where to put it now. I like how the manga tones down the pervyness some:

I mean Ryu is a fellow monkey. u_u .......but it's for the best I don't have to see his ape expression. ;w; (iirc the pyramid scene was a lot shorter/faster, but that's by the grace of reading and books rather than animation I suppose).

[anne-white-star]

Jon pertwee x blind!reader

Notes : (Jon isnt maried) this played in 1975 a year after jon left doctor who. y/n lost her sight at a young age and enjoys to lissen to the navy lark and doctor who her father takes her to a convention to meet jon and both fall in love, reader is above 20 i try to make it as acurate as i can.

Words : 1119

Warnings: non

Also i try to make this the best i can im doing expiriments with wrighting so please excuse me if anything is wrong or not corect.

Y/n was sitting in her room just haning around, there wasn't mutch for her to do, you see y/n is blind and can't do mutch. But she enjoys listening to stuff especaly the navy lark and doctor who.

Y/n grabed one of the records she got from her dad on her birthday they were his first but hadend been used mutch. Y/n realy enjoyed the navy lark especaly petty oficer pertwee he was quite funny in her opinion. One day she asked her dad if mr pertwee played in anything ells

"Wel i know for a fact that he plays the doctor now i can put it on if you like" he had said

"Realy? Oh that would be wonderfull" and ever sinds that moment she Also became a doctor who fan.

And everytime y/n got some money from her grandparents or her birthday she would save it to be able to buy some figureens.

She had jo, the master, liz, sarah, benton yates, the brigadier, some aliens a TARDIS and bessie the only one missing was the doctor. But today was her birthday and her dad had a present for her.

"Happy 29th birthday y/n " her parents huged her

"Thank you" she hugged them back

"We have two presents for you one is here bur for the other one we have to travel"

"Alright" she waited

"Here we know how mutch you like and enjoy doctor who" her mom handed her a box that could open at the top

Y/n opend the box and felt around in it and grabed the said thing out of it "this doesn't feel like any of the figureens i already have" she rubbed her fingers over it to visuelise it "no wait is this a doctor figureen of mr pertwee" she gasped.

"It indeed is y/n We knew it was the only one missing from your colection" her dad said

"My goodness he's handsome" y/n blushed

Her dad laught "do you want to know your second present?"

"Yes please"

"Alright your second present is that we get to talk and meet jon pertwee in real life we made an arangement to meet him in private at the convention tomorow"

"No way really!? Thank you thank you" she jumped up And down and then huged her parents.

The next day y/n her dad and y/n herself were on their way to the convention "oh i can't wait im so nervous" she was smiling so brightly it could lit up a room

"We are almost there 15 more minuts" her dad said.15 minuts later they finaly arived at the destination

"Do i look a bit oke?"

"You always look good my dear don't worry" her dad took her arm and leaded her inside "excuse me sir but where is the room we wil meet jon pertwee? "

"Follow me" said a security guard. They followed him to a room "please wait here he will come in about 10 minuts"

"Alright thank you" they both dat down and waited, just like the guard said 10 minuts later jon walked in

"Ah so these are the people im suposed to meet " jon grabed y/n's dad his hand and shook it and did the same to y/n "please do sit down again" he smiled

"Its really a honor to meet you mr pertwee"

"Please call me jon but do tell me whats your name?"

"Y/n"

"Sutch a lovely name, do tell me y/n are you a big fan?"

"Wel as big as i can be with my disebilety"

"What do you mean?"

"Wel you see im blind, i lost my sight at a young age"

"Im so sorry to hear that"

"Its fine it was an acident no one could have done anything to stop it from happening"

"But if you can't see how do you Enjoy the show?"

"Wel you see i saved my money to be able to buy all the doctor figureens and i label them with a brail lable to be able to see wich character is wich"

"Thats extremly clever of you y/n"

"I like to use my imagination, i always try my best to find a way to be able to have fun even without my sight"

"I will be leaving you two alone" y/n her dad stood up "i'll be back in a hour"

"Alright"

"I understood that you also Enjoy the navy lark"

"Oh yes i really do i really need to use my imagination also because its a radio show but that really doesn't matter its fun to lissen to it makes me laugh everytime" y/n gigled

Jon laughed "Ah yes i also Enjoyed making the recordings it was quite fun to do with the cast"

"Jon i have a question and i hope its not strange but i was wondering if i may toutch your face just to see what you look like in real life, i don't know how acurate the figureen is that i got"

"Im fine with that y/n" he smiled softly at her, he grabed her hand and helpt her up then he put the chair before his and then he guided her to sit back down, he placed her hands on his face.

Y/n started to softly feel his face "I...i" y/n started to cry

"Oh whats wrong? "

"I never imagend i would get to meet you im just so Lucky" she softly cried

"Hey its alright don't cry now" jon huged her

"Jon i have fallen in love with your character and you i hope we will meet again after this"

"Im almost sure we wil" he huged her again

"Thank you for everything" y/n brought his hand to her face and placed it on her cheek.

"You are More than welcome"

"This quote always will stay with me jon Courage isn't just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do, anyway.

I was really afraid to meet you but my point was proven that i could meet you and not be afraid i thank you from the bottom of my heart"

"Your welcome oh i was wondering if you would like to stay for a little longer mabey meet Patrick troughton the person who played the doctor before me and some companions of mine"

"That would be loveley"

"You get to wear my cloak at the pannel" he laught

"Realy? Oh thank you i always wanted to do that"

Jon grabed y/n her hand and helpt her up, he placed the cloak on her shoulders "come along my lady"

"Of course my dear sir"

And this would be the begining of a wonderfull relationship

The end

I hope you enjoyed reading 😊

[atvir]

I walk upon a great hall, Part ?? + 1

It seemed to almost be remarkable that Foxrun was able to salvage some Horde gold off the coast of Zandalar without spilling any blood.

Of course, there were moments of great tensions, notably, when Zandalari druids intercepted the Dancing Dolphin, boarded with their permission, and began inquiring about the purpose of being so close to their lands.

Atvir answered with a half-truth. Sure, he was not actually there to study the Zandalari Loa, but he did have vested interest to learn of them at some point.

The towering Zandalari, even from a level below on the upper deck, responded with razor sharp tongues in broken common.

"I did not ask any ting o' you, 'Highborne'. Yo're perversions o' de wild faith are not welcome."

Atvir felt a rush of anger wash over him, contemplating some sort of clever remark back at the troll, but decided best to not make the situation worse.

What bothered him more was that the druid may have been partially right.

After a long night of lookout upon the Kul Tiran vessel, Atvir returned to familiar land and laid his head upon a pillow.

As soon as his eyes closed, the great, all-too-familiar aisle was upon him within the dream-view.

The faceless watchers looked upon him with their eyeless vigil. Even with such familiarity, there was a sense of uneasiness about the ordeal.

He wandered the center aisle of the wood-and-marble weave for what felt like a shorter period of time than his prior visit. Eventually, he began to notice that the building was dematerializing into an open sky with the vast ocean spread at his feet.

The dream-horizon baked the waters in a gentle, orange glow, mimicking that of a sunset. An object was careening towards Atvir. He glared and was able to make out a boat.

He blinked and was now at the bow of the ship, however, what he landed on was not of a Kul Tiran build. The opulent ruby, emerald, and gold paintings, the sharp edges of the boat, as well as the crest that stood upon the stern of the ship made it evident that this would have been some sort of Zandalari destroyer.

At the wheel was the mystery-of-form, the great host of the Hall. Sea?

Even with the dream-sun resting upon the back of the being, all Atvir made out was a silhouette. The form makes a noise as if stretching something elastic.

Are they smiling?

"Leaf-and-shadow. It seems you've made...adequately enough on your end. May I scrawl the mind to see what we may discuss since your unwelcome, uninvited visitation?"

Atvir nodded. "After all this time, I've realized I never really gave you something to associate with. I will call you Shifter."

Shifter made a noise reminiscent of a gentle wind pushing an old door open. "Boring but fine. Names are irrelevant to me, Leaf-in-Shadow."

Another noise, that of a musty tome flipping a book came from the mystery-of-form. "Hmm! A memory of an old crone...don't ever think I've been aware of her, and ah, you used a similar technique to expedite travel, like I displayed last time. The benefits of arguing with me."

Flip. "Hot air balloon trip with the Guild. Unremarkable. Hm. Lots of new memories of Her."

Atvir smiles at the thought.

Flip. "Odd. You've decided not to try to search for your father, yet."

Flip. "Salvage. You stayed on the ship. Irate Zandalari druids? You were treading on their territory."

Shifter emitted a groaning noise. "You've plenty of NEW things to discuss, but I think it is rather obvious what you want to discuss At-veer."

A loud noise echoed from the formless one, almost as if flesh, bone, sinew were in a dance to create something new. After a rather drawn-out transformation, there stood a nine-foot tall Zandalari druid in the colors of the Empire’s navy. Shifter-Zandalari snaps their finger. A horn of unknown make is heard beyond the horizon, unseen within the walls. As soon as this occurs, the ship begins to move at full-sail.

Unlike Lethelas, there is a face tied to them, constructed from Atvir's recent memory. Out of the troll comes a more accurate enunciation of what they would say in common.

"So, I won't say dis again - I did not ask anyting of ya, 'Highborne'. Your perversions o' de wild faith are not welcome."

Atvir smirked. "Well, you did inquire about what we were doing in Zandalari waters, no? I'm just giving you my answer to that."

"Even if that be de answer, I care not about what'cha doin' here. You are a mockery of our ways. The original ways."

"Your argument is weak. Perhaps we evolved from trolls due to the Well's powers, but our sphere of worship may coincide or overlap in some instances. We spent most of our initial expansion away from you. You never communicated with us. Two of the greatest powers at the time see each other, they're perceived as a threat. We drove you back."

"Den ya blew up de world! Where were ya gods den?"

"They were with us this entire time. Of course, the Highborne scorned the path of nature and in their selfishness, nearly doomed us all. I'd consider ourselves lucky to still have something after thousands of years. I consider the ordeal...a lesson. I was born LONG after the Sundering, so I can only take secondhand accounts of it."

"De loa are wit us through thick and thin. Dey do not abandon us."

"Same thing with our gods, or loa as you perceive them. Did they leave you when your empire stubbornly decided on inaction? When it was sinking into the sea?"

"Rezan had led us with great wisdom, Rastakhan an extension of him! Who were we ta question de King of kings?"

"I'd consider it a lesson, then. We cannot forget what occurred to us in the past, but we cannot cling to old ideals forever. Change comes eventually. I do love the gods I worship, I really do, but sometimes, that does not make them right. Their flaws do make them much more easier to be drawn to, however."

"Hmmm. You've given me much to consider. Perhaps seclusion has left us wary of thieves of knowledge and faith, after all."

"I was partially being honest about my intent of learning of Zandalari loa. I've known so little about other closely-tied gods to my own even after living for so long."

"I can make no guarantees of what could happen if ya arrive on dese shores for such an endeavor, but are ya willing to make such a commitment? Each of dem are different compared to whatever copycats ya have."

"My intent is to learn, not worship."

"To learn is one and da same, as de pink-skins call it. Respect will be de only way to do so."

Atvir sighed. "So it's like learning the forms all over again."

Shifter-Zandalari chuckles. "Heh, sometin' like dat. A pity dis just be a dream.”

With a snap of their finger, Atvir is pulled out from the dream and is awakened. Unlike last time, there is no sense of dread.

He looked down at his amulet, rubbing it with his thumb. He stretched out of the bed, composed himself, and began the next day.

Other dreams with Shifter:

Part ?? Part ?? + 1 - You are here

[wordsnstuff]

20 Mistakes To Avoid in YA Fiction/Romance

* This is a re-upload due to the original being flagged a few months ago for having a gif of two teenagers...*GASP*... dancing. What, tumblr? What is “adult” about that? The post has been in appeal for 4 months, and I have a feeling it won’t leave, so I decided to finally repost it. 

--

YA Fiction is an incredibly popular genre of literature, and most people have picked one up and devoured it in less than a day, but there is a trend in the genre where in certain instances, people forfeit quality for a cheesy dramatic plot. A lot of these stories are just regurgitated cliches with vaguely interesting characters and just enough drama, fluff, and mildly (or extremely) sexual content to keep the reader paying attention. (No shade to the authors, because obviously, any author who writes and publishes a book works hard, no matter the end product.)

There are a lot of aspects of YA Fiction that repeatedly rear their ugly heads and annoy readers or flat out scream dangerous messages to the young people that indulge in them. I thought I’d put the spotlight on a few in the hopes that it will help clean up the genre’s reputation as new and more awakened authors contribute content to it.

Below you will read about some common mistakes that YA Fiction/Romance writers make that either ruin the story, promote dangerous messages, or unrealistically portray teenagers.

Forgetting The Supporting Characters

The supporting characters are an important part of any story, even if the main plot revolves around two people. Supporting characters provide subplots, information to the reader, and more opportunities for your audience to connect and relate to your story. It’s always good to give your supporting characters love and attention when creating and writing them. Sometimes they end up carrying the story.

A mistake that a lot of authors make is that they give the reader a couple defining characteristics, a name, a relationship to the main character, and then just make that character pop into the reader’s view whenever the main plot needs them to. No backstory. No life of their own. Just support to the plot, and that’s a huge waste of potential. You don’t want your readers to put down your book and either forget the supporting characters existed at all, or believe that they were extra pieces of a puzzle.

Using Slang Badly

Writers should not feel the need to include current slang in order to make their story more relatable or popular amongst their targeted demographic. Slang is constantly changing, evolving, and most importantly, dying. Not to say that you should only write in traditional terms or put “thy” and “thee” everywhere, but using standard English and avoiding the trendy but temporary slang words is key.

If you must use slang, try to use the bare minimum and only in fitting circumstances. If your character is the type to say “OMG her dat boi memes are on fleek” then, by all means, go right ahead, but you probably cringed when you read that. That would have been totally normal 2 years ago, but every bit of that sentence has died over time, and no matter how much you think a slang word will stick, don’t risk it.

Sympathy and Envy Mongering

Two emotions that YA Fiction and Romance always try to invoke in their readers are sympathy and envy. The author either wants the reader to feel bad for one or many of the characters, or they want them to be jealous of the awesome (and usually unrealistic) lives the characters have. Don’t be one of these. It’s tired and boring and not original in the slightest.

Are sympathy and empathy both totally okay emotions?

Yes.

Are they all you need to write a good story?

Nope. Not at all.

The reader needs and wants to feel more than jealous of and sad for the characters in the story. The best stories are the ones that trigger a complex whirlwind of emotion. Sympathy and envy are the easy way out, and you get out of those emotions what you put into them.

Unrealistically Portraying Teenagers & Teenage Life

Teenagers look up to and compare themselves and their lives to the characters and lives of the characters in your story. Keeping in mind that your audience is young and impressionable is essential for authors of the genre.

Love At First Sight

Love-at-first-sight does not happen. Infatuation, maybe, but love is more complicated than that. Writing a plot based on “love at first sight” can leave a bad taste in your readers’ mouths from the start, and that is something you should avoid at all costs. On top of that, love-at-first-sight is a very easy-way-out move and if you’re dedicated to your characters and your story, there’s a good to fair chance that you can come up with a more satisfying build up.

Unrealistic Romantic Situations

If you’ve ever opened a YA Romance, chances are you’ve read a scene in which the protagonist and the love interest end up in a stunningly beautiful place and the love interest sweeps the protagonist off their feet prior to riding into the sunset. This, unfortunately, does not happen very often, especially in teenage relationships. The most romance you’re going to get (usually) is the love interest offering to pay for the protagonist’s bag of skittles with the leftover money from their paycheck they earned at McDonald’s.

Just because teenagers don’t really go to great lengths to rent an entire ice-skating rink in the middle of the night so they and their crush can skate to Ellie Goulding music doesn’t mean there can’t be cute and memorable moments. Great doesn’t always equal grand and that’s important to remember. A lot of the time, teenagers appreciate fantasizing about things that are actually possible.

Happy Endings

Not all stories have to end happily, and you’ve definitely been told this before, but nobody ever takes into account how stories about teenagers have so much potential when it comes to endings. Teenagers read books about teenagers and unfortunately, this means that a lot of them will take what you’re writing about and try to change their own lives to match. Be honest in your depiction about what actually happens when you leave high school.

The majority of the time, high school sweethearts won’t stay together. Long distance won’t work, they’ll find someone else, the spark will die out, their personalities will undergo drastic changes, and their goals and plans for the future will turn out differently than they expected. “And they lived happily ever after” is criticized harshly for a reason, especially in YA and YA Romance. Most stories don’t end happily, but there is more than one story in a person’s life and giving a person their happy ending as they graduate high school is a great injustice, to your character and your readers.

Avoiding The Dark Parts Of Teenage Life

Teenagers, despite what a lot of the media claims, go through some really serious and stressful and damaging things. Teenagers suffer from mental illness and deal with the intense pressure of the education system and hold their heads high in the face of stigma over every little detail about them. They suffer from eating disorders and body dysmorphia and self-harm tendencies, and that doesn’t even bring into account the bullying and family issues and the stress of constantly learning and feeling things for the very first time with little to no guidance or assurance or resources to ask for help. It is hard being a teenager. Do not forget that, and don’t leave the actual teenagers reading your story feeling underrepresented and/or abnormal because they aren’t as stress-free as the characters they look up to.

Exaggerating How Teenagers Interact With Each Other

A lot of teenage interactions are short, awkward, and uneventful. Teenagers aren’t super eloquent and socially apt, but YA Fiction seems to believe they are. It’s quite rare that a teenager will just walk up to someone they like, say “wanna go to dinner on Saturday?” and all will be fine and dandy. It’s quite rare that a teenager will saunter up to someone who talked about them behind their back, say something super clever and damaging to their enemy’s ego, and saunter off like the king/queen of the world. Those interactions look great in our heads, but they usually contain a few stuttered words and “um”s and blushing. Confidence is usually a trait that people develop later in life, so try not to push it if you’re trying to be realistic.

Maturity of Teenagers

Teenagers are underdeveloped human beings with minimal experience in most areas of life. They do not have it all figured out. A lot of YA books revolve around characters that are extremely intelligent, disciplined and ambitious at a level of maturity a 25-year-old be on. This is not accurate. Making characters “awkward” or “childish” does not have anything to do with how mature they seem to readers. There is a distinct difference between an awkward girl with childlike innocence and a girl who makes mistakes, does not have her life figured out, and is not yet comfortable with casual social interaction. The latter things I mentioned are pretty universal when it comes to teenagers.

Unfitting Aspirations

There are more than two paths in life. It seems that in YA you’re either going to graduate, get married, pop out a couple kids and live the rest of your life in the suburbs, or you’re going to leave home, go to college, travel for 20 years and settle in some random country in Europe writing poetry until the end of your days. There is no in between, which sucks. There are a lot of interesting things you can do in life, not to say that either of the two life paths I mentioned are uninteresting. You could take a gap year and travel the world, go to college, move back home for a couple years then maybe get a job that has you traveling and exploring new things for the rest of your life. You could meet the love of your life in college and have some kids but put them in online school so you could travel with them. You could live your whole life in an awesome cabin in the forest casting spells and adopting wild squirrels. There are so many ways life can be and restricting it to opposite extremes takes the imagination out of the future.

Not All Teenagers Think Their Relationships Will Last Forever

This one is pretty self explanatory, so long story short, not every relationship a teenager enters into is with the end goal of staying together forever, or even more than a few months. Most teenage relationships are pretty short and not very meaningful, and portraying every single couple in your stories as “we’ve been going strong for 2 years and plan on getting married right after graduation” is inaccurate and will probably cause your readers some disappointment in the future.

Relationships Aren’t A Teenager’s Only Concern

Most teenagers are more concerned about the F they got on a History test than they are about who they’re going to stare at next period. Everyone has more than just their crush to worry about. Some teenagers have to worry about where they’re going to get their next meal or how they’re going to get a ride home from school or even how they can apologize to a friend they’ve hurt. It’s not all about relationships for teenagers, in fact, relationships are a pretty small part of teenage life. If all your character has to think about is the hottie they sit next to in Biology, perhaps you should work a little more on character development.

Unnatural Appearances

Most teenagers are not model-level attractive. All teenagers have break-outs and leave the house late with greasy hair or with their shirt on inside out. No teenager shows up at school every day looking absolutely flawless, as if they’re about to walk down the runway. Please keep that in mind, because portraying teenagers accurately, especially when it comes to physical aspects such as weight, acne, etc. is super important. In YA and YA Romance, you must keep in mind that the teenagers you are trying to appeal to should not feel like a piece of trash because they aren’t as perfect as your characters. Yes, YA Fiction is Fiction, but just because you know that it’s unrealistic doesn’t mean your readers do. Readers of YA Fiction compare themselves to the characters in your books whether you like it or not. It is not hard to realistically portray physical appearances of teenagers.

Avoiding Dangerous Messages

A common problem found in YA Fiction is the lacing of dangerous messages found in the smaller details. You may miss them the first couple times you read a story, but if you go looking for them, you will find them, and perhaps you will find the source of a lot of mistakes you’ve made. YA has a bad habit of endorsing mindsets that lead to bad decisions. Some of them, however, can be avoided in your own writing.

The Need To Change The “Flawed” One

Nobody in this world is perfect. Expecting the person you supposedly love to be flawless all the time is not realistic. People make mistakes. People are not always happy and bubbly and confident about themselves. People do not always act the same one day as they did the day before. Human beings are flawed and should be portrayed as such, especially in the stage of their life which is the most confusing and scary. Teenagers are underdeveloped human beings, and for some reason, teenager girls in YA Romance expect teenage boys to be charming and loving and never ever make a mistake, which is ridiculous. Creating love interests that appear flawless and can make no mistakes is detrimental to your audience. It raises your readers’ expectations to an unattainable level which causes them disappointment and might cause their future partners unrepairable damage to their self-esteem because they’ll think that in order to find a partner, they cannot be flawed and cannot make mistakes.

Glorification Of Illegal Activity

It’s not “cool” or “edgy” to pump yourself full of deadly and mind-altering substances you know absolutely nothing about. It doesn’t make you “badass” and it isn’t a personality trait unless that trait is stupid. Whatever your position is on drugs or alcohol or whatever, there is no excuse for putting the idea in the heads of young readers that doing things that are illegal and addictive and that might even get you killed is ok. Not only because most of your readers are younger than 21, but because it will always be dangerous to take drugs, commit crimes, and drink. Your choices are your choices. Don’t impose your habits and excuses on kids who don’t know any better.

Slut Shaming

News flash: it’s 2017, people. Nobody cares who you’re kissing or dating or having sex with. People are finally getting used to the idea that maybe, just maybe, it’s not the end of the world if you do whatever you want, as long as you’re not hurting yourself or anyone else. This recurring theme of “I hate this person because they do what they want with their body” is getting old and annoying. Believe what you will regarding religion and morals and what is right or wrong or whatever you want to believe in, but the second you start turning your story into a commentary on the decisions and beliefs of other people, you’re in the wrong. There are other, more creative reasons to make your characters hate each other than their sexual activity.

Forgetting The First Times

One of the most exciting parts of being a teenager is that everything you’re experiencing, you’re experiencing for the first time. Everything is confusing and exciting and 10x more painful or memorable or enjoyable, and that’s neglected all the time in YA. I don’t mean the common trope of the first kiss or the losing of virginity. I mean love and infatuation and loss and heartbreak; it’s all happening to them for the first time in their lives, and these events make up their memories that they will carry with them forever. Teenage years are incredibly heavy times for people. It is, after all, the years in which they learn the most and the fastest and where the majority of their brain development takes place. These moments that you’re writing, the first kiss, the first time having sex, the first time your character loses someone they love, they’re all going to determine how your character will develop in the future. Treat them that way. Teach young readers that it’s normal and perfectly okay to be scared and inexperienced and lost. That’s the bitter-sweet part of youth and it’s beautiful.

Bad Boys And Boring Girls

Bad Boys are, in reality, bad news. The real “bad boys” in this world are slimy, manipulative jerks who trick girls (usually more than one at a time) into thinking they have feelings for them, using them for things like sex or money, and then either end up controlling their entire lives, introducing drugs and problems, or breaking their hearts. It’s sad, but it’s reality. Yes, there’s always a cause for this behavior, and sometimes these bad boys grow out of it, but that’s not always the case. Portraying these bad boys as “changeable” is not only dangerous for the female readers but also the men in their future. If you make girls think that they can change whomever they’re with to be the perfect prince charming, they will never be satisfied with someone who is flawed (spoiler alert: everyone is flawed) and they may destroy the self-esteem of whoever they’re with by making them think they need to change to be lovable.

Boring Girls are, sort of, connected to bad boys in this sense. They show up in every story, which makes sense financially because authors who make more relatable main characters sell more books. It’s just demographics. But at the same time, this stretch for a wider audience can end up influencing girls’ expectations of themselves and their love lives. If you make every protagonist completely boring, compliant, and devoid of strong, defining traits, girls will take that as advice. They will learn that all a girl has to do to make people fall in love with them is sit quietly and be pretty, which is horrible, in case you hadn’t noticed. Teach girls to look up to strong characters with rich personalities. Nowadays, that counts as an original idea.

Generalization

Portraying every aspect of teenage life and teenagers themselves as if you opened a book full of cliches, closed your eyes and pointed at something is not ok. High schools and families and personalities are different wherever you go, and making blind generalizations about aspects of teenage life can not only change how your reader interprets their own lives, but how adult readers assume teenage life is when they’re not around. It is important to not reinforce the assumption that there is always a popular clique and mean jocks and awkward nerds and dead-beat stoners because these stereotypes are a way for people to justify their snap-judgements, and not only does that say a lot about you as an author, but that will breed a whole new generation of judgmental, close-minded people.

Glorification Of Unhealthy Relationship Behaviors

I’m gonna say this once: It is not “hot” to have the love interest constantly putting restrictions on their supposed loved one. It’s not okay to borderline stalk someone and use “I love you” as an excuse, even if the person reciprocates your feelings. It is unhealthy to ignore someone when they say “no, no, not now” or “no, stop, not here” when you’re in the middle of initiating sex or even just kissing. It is disgusting when romance, especially YA Romance, which has mostly young, impressionable readers taking in your messages, promotes these behaviors like they’re something to strive for. Like it or not, your writing is going to alter the way they imagine a “perfect” relationship. If you aren’t willing to take that responsibility seriously, you should not be writing YA, and especially not YA Romance.

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[a-legit-dumbass]

pt2 here i commeeeee

- UNKLE CRABSTASH I’M DYING DSFVDSBAGKHLKJ

- i’m following Gin through the passage

-wait how am i supposed to leave  even if i’m on the first floor

- miss miley? miss mIlEY? oh mah fuckin gawd she fuckin ded

- wait how is sara connected to the game?

- is q-taro on the side of the kidnappers? smh shoulda know.

- oh no not the sacrifice card oh noes not good i dont have any tokens

- shit shit shit shit shit shit how do i get rid of the card

- oh so the card doesn’t matter? cos we’re definitely gonna find a way to escape. sorry gin, i love you but we’re not gonna escape there are like 2 more chapters after this

- yeah we got dat sacri card still

- ahh i see. kai disguised a really clever program as porn. klever kai. i honestly thought kai was into anal but turns out hes into saving everyone. 

- SECRET LADEEERRRR 

- ooo we going up them victory stairs boyssss. we’re probs gonna be caught tho

- shit shit shit shittttttttttt no. she finna die

- YES WOOOHOOO WE GOT A COMMONER CARD BOIS

- and so, le trial begins

- sorry but sou’s lying about being the sacrifice and he hasn’t changed.

- ooooo q-taro’s in troubllleeee

- wait,,,,, *our* fakes? ooooooo he do be a traitor tho

- WAIT WAIT WAAAAIT my main man keiji looks so different when he started at the police force i-

- YESSSSS we love showing that police isn’t all that great and a lot of them are just scumbags (not sarcasam i was actually scared the game made police seem good for a while)

- ooo new function thingy

- is q-taro really the sage? does that mean i won’t have to deal with him anymore??

-hmmmmm kaiji i don’t trust u hmmm

- oh noes, whos the sacriffice

- NO NOT KANNA OF ALL THE PEOPLE :,,,,,,,(

- i- wait. kanna got a commoner? how???

- sou’s name is actually shin i’m calling it rn

- oh no ik i need to vote for sou but i feel bad. sorry my guy

-wait it’s not? 

- NO NAO NO

- wait it’s all up to me? shit shit shit no

- ok i’m gonna vote for kanna

- NOT THE STUPID BLOODY BUTTON AGAIN UGH

- fuck. i feel dead now

[sankt-brekker-the-demjin]

The Lockdown Letter Part 3 - Tom Holland x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Before leaving back to Washington days before the quarantine, Y/N sends her best friend Tom a letter. But what he received was a folded, white blank piece of paper.

a/n: Knives Out (2018) SPOILERS!! if u haven’t seen it WATCH IT iz dat good also can we talk about how weird it is to see Chris Evans on other movies like im not mentally stable for that 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Brows knitting in confusion, Tom stared at the blank piece of paper on his hand. He looked back at envelope and back at paper again.

Tom

His name was written with cursive hand writing. His heart sped up, mind racing.

Paddy called out from the hallway to his room asking him to help with something, taking him out of his reverie. “Yeah, give me a sec.”

He stashed the paper back to the envelope and placed it on his desk, looking back at it once before leaving his room. He passed by the living room and found Harry laid out on the couch, watching TV with difficulties, Tessa sat on his face. He placed her on his stomach, and she kept licking his face.

“Where’s Paddy?”

“Outside,” he rubbed Tessa’s stomach.

Tom turned his head to the disregarded TV where a familiar voice spoke. He looked to see Daniel Craig on the screen, sitting on the passenger seat of the car - earphones on, oblivious to the ambulance behind him. He remembered seeing the movie last year with Y/N, laughing at that scene. “That’s Y/N’s favorite movie.”

Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, “Whipped.”

Paddy’s loud voice called him out again. He went to the back door. “What’d you help with?”

Paddy held up a lighter.

“What are you doing with a lighter?” Tom asked.

“I wanted to burn my school homework.” He shrugged. “I’m scared of using the lighter. It could burn my hand.”

Tom took the lighter to his hands. “Why didn’t you ask Harry? He was sitting on the couch.”

“He took my Snickers. I’m not talking to him.” 

Tom laughed at his brother’s antics. “What if you still need your homework though?”

“Nope. The world is ending. Homework is the last thing I need.”

“Don’t blame me on this if you still need it.”

“I won’t.” Tom took a paper and lit the lighter. He watched as the paper caught the flames, and casted it on to the pile of papers on the pavement.

“Wow that feels good.” His brother’s eyes glazed in amazement. “I feel like burning the world now.”

“Getting worried for you there, buddy,” he ruffled his brother’s hair, chuckling. “But maybe learn to light a lighter on your own first, I guess.”

Paddy ignored him. “So are you and Y/N still together?”

“What?” He whipped his head to his young brother. “No were not together together. I mean ...”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know? She likes someone else?” His stomach twisted at the thought. His brother raised his eyebrows. “She likes this … Chris Evans guy - I don’t know!”

His mind drifted off to the time she confessed her undying love for the actor that time they watched his film, Knives Out last year. She was buzzing with excitement, even when they stepped out of the theater. Always ranting about how good it was, and how clever it was laid out. When she asked him what part he liked most, he said the ending.

And then suddenly, it hit him like a bus. A literal light bulb appeared on his head. The pieces of a puzzle, it was all connecting together.

The blank letter, wasn’t blank.

“Paddy, you’re a genius.” Tom bolted towards the house.

“You’re welcome?” Paddy shouted in confusion.

With the lighter on his hands, he reached his room. His heart beating rapidly in chest. Excitement meshed with anxiety raging through him.

He grabbed the envelope on his desk, flinging it to the side and held the edge blank paper on with hands. He only hoped it would work. He flicked the lighter on and swished it underneath the paper, careful not to have it too close to burn it.

Faint words written in neat, small cursive started to appear.

He knew only one person with such lovely handwriting.

So

You must’ve remembered something about me and my love for mystery movies because here we are. Gotta keep it short. I don’t know how you’ll react act after reading this but the world’s ending so what the hell.

These memories we’ve spent, Tom; the laughs, and the inside jokes, they’re all priceless. I never gave them a thought, until that one day. You were just smiling at your dog ... and then I went into cardiac arrest. I just melted. (Cliché and cringey I know)

You are a great friend. My absolute best friend. And if you ever consider me, too, then that’s why I thought we can never be more than that. Because, you, my friend, are one of the greatest things that ever happened to me. They say take the risks or lose the chance, but this one was the risk I was not yet willing to make. To lose you for silly emotions is worse than catching a cold; because a cold will eventually get better, but our friendship would never be the same if you don’t feel the same.

You understand me and my thoughts. I understand you even without words. We fit, like hands clasped together. Take the chance and lose all of this?

That’s what I was thinking all those times.

Then I saw that one episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Meredith Grey spoke to me. She said,

“So, do it. Decide.

Is this the life you want to live?

Is this the person you want to love?

Is this the best you can be?

Can you be stronger? Kinder?

More compassionate? Decide.

Breathe in. Breathe out and decide.”

So I did. And I decided, this is what I choose. You. You’re my best friend, my light, and everything else. I don’t care about the consequences of our friendship anymore.

To put it simply: Hi, you are my person.

[imalwaysaslutfordrag]

Branjie & “Such poison from a pretty, honeyed mouth.” +“If you want me, come and get me.” - whaat ?? barbie??? Who dat is???

Barbs, you made me write more of this AU that I never intended to make and now we’re here. So you better be thankful because now I am married to this AU and I don’t want to be. (Also, idk what to call this au, pls give ur suggestions in the comments down below)

“Such poison from a pretty, honeyed mouth.” and “If you want me, come and get me.”

“You left a message?”

It was Vanjie. 

Of course it was, Brooke’s mind reasoned. She was the only one who had the number. 

Brooke looked around at the other agents who had, by now, after the first ring from the phone, all taken up their respective posts. They looked at her expectantly, earpieces tuned in to receive the same audio Brooke was.

Brooke took a deep breath in.

She was good at her job. She could do this.

It was just strange that after all the hours she had put into researching and hearing about one of the world’s most infamous art thieves, she now had her on the phone.

“Yes, we wanted to speak with you about any information you have regarding a particular suspect by the name of-”

“-wait, who is this, this ain’t West,” Vanjie cut her off.

“No, I’m afraid Director West has other matters to attend to,” Brooke lied.

“That’s a lie, you the new chick on my case ain’t you?”

Vanjie was smarter than she looked. 

Brooke sighed, “Vanessa, we would like to see you in person to discuss this matter.”

Vanjie chuckled darkly, it sent shivers down Brooke’s spine “Oh, I’m sure you would, hot stuff. Tell me, what’s it like in Canada? The winters as cold as they say?”

Correction.

Vanjie was a lot smarter than she looked.

Brooke should have expected it. She didn’t keep a low profile, so it wasn’t hard to make the connection. Still, it was a bit... unnerving to have a world-renowned criminal know where you used to live. 

It seemed Vanjie had done her research. 

“This call isn’t about me,” Brooke brushed her off. “We would really like to discuss this in person.”

“Such poison from a pretty, honeyed mouth.” Vanessa mused, seemingly to herself. “Well, darlin’, I can’t very well do that, now can I? No,” Vanjie answered her own question. “So why don’t we cut to the chase and you tell me what you’re offering me.” Vanessa’s voice took on a huskier tone. 

She spoke like she was... seducing Brooke. 

Vanessa was... flirting? 

Was it really flirting? Was it an intimidation tactic?

Brooke plowed ahead, keeping mental notes on the rise and fall of Vanjie’s breaths, “We can talk about compensation in person. We can even pick you up from wherever you are. Just let us know where to find you, and we’ll make this process as painless as possible.”

Vanjie chuckled again. “Oh, but sometimes a little pain can be fun.” Brooke felt the shivers travel up to her hairline. That damn voice directly pressed to her ear was doing a number on her nerves. “I’m sure you’d know. Apprehendin’ criminals and all that. I wonder, you ever let that control slip a bit, all that anger in you, you ever take it out on someone?”

Brooke didn’t need to look around the room to know that everyone was watching her intently. She tried not to let the flush at the base of her neck spread.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Brooke said plainly.

“It is workin?”

“No,” Brooke lied.

“Bummer, you was really shaping up to be my favorite,” Vanessa sounded... genuinely disappointed.

Brooke tried to get them back on track, well aware of the other agents now trading unreadable looks between them. “We just want to talk with you.”

The disappointment was gone, replaced with that same husk from before, “If you want me, come and get me.”

Vanessa was flirting. Definitely flirting. 

Brooke... hadn’t accounted for this. 

No matter. 

She could adapt.

“Well, where are you?”

“Hmm, there’s no fun in me just tellin’ ya. Figure it out, Hytes.”

Brooke shook off the unease that came with Vanjie knowing her name as quickly as she could, forcing her head into ‘work mode’. “Well, you’re obviously calling from a payphone-”

Vanjie cut her off again, “Oh, obvious? How?”

“You wouldn’t be stupid enough to call from a phone that’s traceable.”

“Are you callin’ me smart?” 

Vanjie almost sounded... pleased? Flattered? Smug?

“I’m calling you clever.”

“Same difference.”

“Not really, because a smart person wouldn’t have called from a payphone near the beach,” Brooke smirked to herself. “Seagulls in the background,” She explained.

Vanjie didn’t say anything, so Brooke continued. 

She started speaking before she could overthink.“You live in LA. You work all over but you live in LA. That I found from your old phone history.” Brooke paused a moment and she swore she heard Vanjie inhale. “You’re at a beach by the ocean, I can hear the waves.” 

Brooke thought for a moment racking her brain for information. Where would Vanjie go? It had to be somewhere recognizable, but not too recognizable. Vanjie liked the chase, she wanted to be found. Not actually found, but she wanted her “genius” recognized. 

A lightbulb went off in Brooke’s head.

“Hermosa Beach Pier.”

Vanjie was silent for a moment. “Why Hermosa?”

Brooke smirked, she was right. She could hear it in Vanjie’s voice. “It means Beautiful in Spanish.” Brooke looked up to see a suddenly bustling room. Agents were on phones and writing and in general chaos. It only made Brooke smile wider. 

“You aren’t nearly as subtle as you think you are.” 

Brooke could hear Vanjie’s smirk through the phone. “We’ll see about that.”