#Video Review: Still Corners Today Is The Day

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Share Breathtaking and Cinematic "Today Is The Day"

New Video: JOVM Mainstays Share Breathtaking and Cinematic "Today Is The Day" @stillcorners @wreckinglight @sallyhedberg @mysticsons

JOVM mainstays Still Corners — vocalist and keyboardist Tessa Murray and multi-instrumentalist, producer and songwriter Greg Hughes — will be releasing their long-awaited sixth album, Dream Talk on April 5, 2024 through the band’s own label Wrecking Light Records.  The album’s material was written in Southern France, East Sussex, UK and Woodstock. “The songs came together quickly and being able…

[luza-wayne]

calling them with another name

suna rintarou, kuroo tetsurou, tsukishima kei

cw: accident (it's just kuroo being an idiot)

here's the second part!

suna rintarou

it's the weekend and you decided to spend your time at your boyfriend's house. his family is out of town and he said he's bored.

but part of the reason you went there is to try out the "calling your boyfriend another name prank". you wanted to know how he'll react so you concluded to do this today.

you two are now on the couch watching netflix, while he uses your lap as a pillow. you have been thinking of the right time to carry out the plan, but you can't seem to find it.

“i'm getting hungry.” he muttered out of nowhere.

this it is! 

“me too.” you replied to him, putting your hand on your tummy. he noticed that and then he thought of burying his face onto your stomach, and he did.

“what do you want to eat?” he asked, making your tummy feel the vibrations every time he speaks.

“hmmm... i don't kno— ah! how about chicken wings?” your eyes glimmered at your suggestion. he looked up at you and smiled, agreeing with you.

he reached for his phone and started to search for somewhere to order, still laying on your lap.

“ah, also can you order drinks too, kyousuke? oh— mhm.” you 'innocently' asked him, while your eyes are focused on the tv.

the bomb has been planted. 

“oka—” he halted his mouth as soon as he reviewed what you just called him.

he raised his eyebrows and furrowed it, giving you a 'what-did-you-just-called-me-?' look.

you bite your lower lips, trying to hold back your laughter as you can feel him staring at you from his position.

when he didn't get a reaction from you, even with that glaring he did. he fixed his form and forcibly made you look into his eyes.

“excuse me, ma'am, but what did you call your boyfriend?” he asked seriously, pressing his palms deeper on your cheeks.

“uh? rin?”

“oh no, that's not what you named me just now. who is this kyousuke bastard? you even realized you said the wrong name.” he said, freeing your face and standing up.

“kyousuke? i don't know anyone named kyousuke. i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you said putting up your act.

after you said that, he just sat back on the couch, but now with a grumpy face and mood.

“when's the food coming?” you asked, changing the topic.

“never.” he shortly answered.

“what? why?” you paused the movie and shook his arms playfully.

“i don't know either. why don't you ask the kyousuke guy? maybe he knows why.” he answered, he stretched his arms and turned his back and played something, anything on his phone.

omg, is he mad? damn, he's mad, but... 

“bwahahahahaha!” you suddenly burst out laughing while you hit his back. “rin! oh my gosh— hahahaha!” you were completely broken because of his reaction to the prank.

“what is wrong with you? suddenly calling me names and now laughing out of nowhere!” he said removing your hitting hand off of his back.

“oh, rin.” you wiped the tears of laughter in the corner of your eyes and hugged him, taking him by surprise. “my wittle rin is jealous, aren't you?— bwahahahahaha!” you burst out again.

you just can't get your mind off of how cute it was, considering suna rintarou rarely showed emotion on his face.

“it was just a prank, rin. sorry, sorry.” you confessed.

he finally sank in his mind all the videos in tiktok he saw, where they prank their boyfriends and how can he fail to forget that set up?

“i'm never ordering you chicken wings again.” he said suddenly that made you crack up again.

“so, you still ordered it for me, rin.” 

suna swears in his mind that he'll get you back. not now, but he definitely will.

kuroo tetsurou 

you are the manager of the nekoma boys volleyball club and lately, your boyfriend, the nekoma's captain, kuroo tetsurou has been teasing and getting on your nerves for the last couple of days and you decided to take revenge today. with the help of kenma on what you will do, you two took the idea of calling him by another name.

after changing, you stepped into the court, as usual, kuroo sent a flying kiss to your position as soon as he saw you, but you dodged the air as if you were not accepting it. kuroo knew what he was doing for the past few days, so he was not offended by it, instead, he just laughed his ass off.

right after you filled their water bottles, coach nekomata called in for a ten-minute break. you were distributing it when kenma gave you a sign that right now is the perfect time to commence the plan.

after you gave kenma's bottle, you extended your arms to your boyfriend and he just smiled widely and you're sure he's planning something again, just like how he is doing recently.

he suddenly held you on your wrist and pulled you to his chest, and the reason he keeps on doing this teasing is because of the genuine response he's receiving from you.

“w-what?!” you slapped his arms, even with a blush on your face.

he lifted your chin and angled your face, instinctively you closed your eyes and pooched your lips, but when no contact happened, you opened your eyes and saw him already rolling on the floor.

this jerk... hah! sorry, but i won't let things go your way this time! 

“gosh! you keep on teasing me these days, rai! i'll definitely have my revenge soon.” you declared and made your way to pass yaku's water to him.

kuroo blinked once, blinked twice and thrice, but nothing changed. did you just call him 'rai'? 

he regained his posture and was about to reach out to you, but the break was already finished.

you clenched your fist, bit your lower lips and even felt your nose enlarging now and then, trying to contain your laughter as you see kuroo keeps glancing at you, every time he can.

wah, this is the best revenge. 

“ouch!” 

everyone was alerted by the cry and it turned out kuroo was hit by taketora's spike because he was not paying attention. coach nekomata told him to go check it in the clinic and asked you to come with him. you worriedly led him to the infirmary and unfortunately, the nurse was out, so you just decided to wait for them while you try to keep him in the right condition.

“are you worried?” kuroo asked you, while you trace his head if there's any bump.

“of course, i am. are you crazy?” you answered annoyed at his question.

“no, you can't. your boyfriend will get mad.” he said, trying to sound different.

what— ah. he's still there, he seems alright already.

“what are you saying? you're my boyfriend.” you said blanky.

“i am your boyfriend?! sorry, but my name isn't rai! newsflash my girlfriend is cheating on me with a jerk named ra—” you quickly covered his mouth, looked around and at the door.

“idiot! you're too noisy! we're in the infirmary!” he removed your hands from his mouth and pulled you to a hug.  a tight one.

okay, now i feel bad.

“i was just trying to prank you, tetsu. you've been under my skin recently and i thought i will get back at you. sorry.” you said stroking his hair. he tightened the hug and you leaned down to kiss his hair.

“okay, cut!” you two flinched when you heard someone clapping and looked behind you. yaku, lev and kenma were there standing at the door.

“you two took so long to come back.” yaku looked so disgusted, lev wondering what the hell is happening and kenma just looking away.

“watching you two being lovey-dovey disgust me from the bottom of my heart,” yaku exclaimed.

“really? didn't know you have a heart, yakkun.” you replied.

“eh? yaku-san, you don't have a heart?” lev asked, intently.

“lev, shut up.” kenma muttered, looking like he'd have enough of lev.

“what do i do? my teammates are jealous of our relationship.” kuroo said and sighed.

“like hell we are!” yaku protests.

tsukishima kei 

the finals are coming up and you and your boyfriend, tsukishima kei, decided to study together, so you can ask him if you ever don't understand something. he's fine with it, so now you're in his room holding your notebook with a scowl on your face.

“what's wrong?” tsukishima asks as soon as he looks at your face.

“i don't understand anything at all.”  you plopped on the table and buried your face in the book.

“want me to teach you?” he asked as he browsed his notes. you shook your head still on the table.

“no, i need a break.” you said and stood up. you throw yourself on his bed and reach for your phone.

“we just started ten minutes ago, you know?” he smirked as he wrote down pointers for you.

“shut up.” you pouted and tapped on the tiktok icon on your phone.

not even a minute passed, a video played on your fyp and it was about pranking their boyfriends by calling them by a different name. thankfully, you're wearing earphones so, he can't hear what you are watching and chose to do it to your own boyfriend.

you exit the app and place your phone on his nightstand. you sat down again at the table and opposite to him, he raised his eyebrows.

“i thought you were going to take a break from the ten-minute study you did?” he teased you.

“well, i just decided to be a good student starting now, so i'll be doing my best to study.” you stated hiding your dark plan behind the face you're putting up.

after minutes of pretending to study, you took your notes and sat next to him.

“hey,” you started. he looked at you and placed his hand on your hip.

“mhm?” he hummed.

wait, he's being touchy and sweet right now, should i continue or abandon the plan for now? argh! whatever! 

“i can't understand this, can you explain this to me, furuya?” you said pointing something in your notebook.

i did it! how will kei react?! 

it took a few seconds before tsukishima spoke up.

“first, you need to do this…”

huh? no response? you sighed. i knew it, he wouldn't react to something like that, he probably thought i just called him by another name by mistake. 

after he explained what you asked, you just decided to really study now, and an hour passed.

“how about we take a break?” tsukishima suggested. you just nodded, you felt like all your energy was just sucked out of your body. “i'm going to go get refreshments.” he said standing up and walking to the door.

“okay.” you replied, your eyes already gave up.

“just lay down on the bed if you're too tired, i'll be back, akemi.” he said.

you opened your eyes wide and looked at his way hastily.

“kei, what the fuck?!” you cursed, completely shaken.

“huh?” he asked you, even tilting his head.

“who is this akemi girl you just called me?!” you walked to him, your eyebrows furrowing together.

“akemi? who's that? i don't know any akemi.” he answered.

“no, you just called me akemi!” you defended.

“i really don't know, maybe you should ask that furuya guy?” he said, crossing his arms and leaning on the door.

“huh?” furuya? “gosh, kei!” you hit his chest and glared at him.

he laughed looking at you, worried about who the akemi he just called.

“damn you.”

“too bad. i didn't fall into your trap.” he said and walked to the table.

“i'll have my revenge next time, just you wait.” you said, determined that you'll get a reaction from him in the future.

“are you sure you should say that?” he leaned down and grabbed his phone that was placed in the pot.

“what do you mean?” you wondered.

"kei, what the fuck?" "huh?" "who is this akemi girl you just called me?" "akemi? who's th—" 

you widened your eyes and your blood rose to your cheeks as you heard your voice.

“kei! delete that!”

hope you liked it!

also, if you'd like to tip me, you can check my ko-fi acc! anything will be a big help!

[avatar-anna]

Workday Blues

2024 Masterlist

i wrote this weeks ago after a co-worker had me seeing red lol

"I just don't get it, H," you sighed, leaning back against the leather seat of your car as you waited for the light to change. Your voice felt strained, and you knew you sounded whiny, but you couldn't help it. After a long shift at work, you told yourself you reserved the right to complain. "Why can't people just, I don't know, do the job they showed up to do and get paid for?"

"I'm sorry, bub," Harry said, his voice tinny as it filled up your car. "Did you talk to your manager?"

You scoffed. "There's no point, but I swear I wanted to tell them I didn't want to work that shift anymore. I'm just so sick of—of—doing more than what's required of me and not being compensated for it."

Harry remained quiet over the phone. At this point in your relationship, he knew when you wanted his advice and when you just needed to vent about your job. The latter happened more and more as of late. Sometimes you felt bad for being so negative, but after nine hours of being overly positive as a restaurant server, you didn't have much positivity left in you.

"Need me to leave you a review again?" Harry finally asked.

Despite your exhaustion, you smiled. "What's that, now? The third one this month?"

"Fourth. Three and a half. I had Mitch leave one after the, what did you call it, 'influencer incident?'" he asked, referring to an afternoon where someone tried to pay for their meal by posting a video online.

"Hm. I'll have to bring him a slice of pie the next time I visit the studio."

"Hey, what about me? Where's my pie?"

Grin widening a bit, you said, "I'll give you something better."

"And...how far from home are you now?"

"Pulling in right now. I'll see you inside."

You pulled into the home you shared with Harry, resting your forehead against the steering wheel once the car was in park. Your feet hurt, you smelled like the food your restaurant served, and you desperately needed to take your makeup off. Sometimes you wondered why you were still putting yourself through all of this, and Harry definitely did too. For years now, Harry promised to take care of you, to take care of your student debt so you could focus on your career and not be so tired and unhappy. He didn't say it often because it typically led to an argument about independence and needing to be able to take care of yourself, but you knew how he felt, and after days like today, the idea of letting someone else take care of you financially seemed more appealing than it normally did.

Sighing, you slid out of the car, gathering your lunch bag and purse before shuffling into the house on slippered feet. "H?" you called, eyes lighting up when you heard the sound of nails scraping against wood floors. A shadow of jet black fur whipped around the corner and bounded toward the entrance hall to you, tongue out and tail wagging.

"Hi, pookie! How's my sweet boy?" you cooed. Hades nudged your leg with his nose, and you bent down to run your hands over his soft puppy fur until he eventually fell onto his back in need of belly rubs.

"You talking to me?" Harry's voice sounded like it came from the kitchen, which you followed once you straightened up and your dog was finished licking your face.

"You're gonna eat your words when you get your cute butt over here."

"I live with two boys, and only one of them greets me excitedly without fail. You do the math," you joked.

You smiled and shook your head at the comment. Harry knew your feelings about your "unflattering" work uniform, so he often went out of his way to compliment you whenever you were in it.

When you finally made it to where Harry was standing at the kitchen counter, tears nearly welled up in the corners of your eyes. "Is that—"

"Wild Cherry Pepsi," he said, his grin wide and knowing as he read your expression. "With pebbled ice. And dinner, but I know you care more about the drink with that sugar addiction of yours."

"You know me so well," you said, your voice rising in pitch as your head bowed.

"Aw, come here, bub." You shuffled over the last few steps to Harry, folding right into his welcoming embrace.

His body was firm and comforting against yours, his t-shirt soft beneath your cheek. Breathing in deep, you wrapped your arms around Harry's torso, letting every frustration you felt at work fall away as he held you.

"Thank you," you mumbled, tilting your head up after a minute or two had passed.

Harry smoothed his hand over your hair and down your back, pulling at the hair tie that held your braid in place all day. "For what?"

You shrugged, eyes closed as he began to pull the strands of your braid apart. "I don't know. For being you, for not suggesting I should quit when I know you want to."

"Another time," Harry promised. Pulling out a chair at the kitchen table, he gestured for you to sit down. You practically fell into the chair, feeling like you could finally relax as you took the plastic to-go cup into your hands and took a sip. Your eyes closed, feeling as though you could fall asleep right then even though you knew you should probably eat. As if he could tell you were on the brink of sleeping, Harry asked, "Do you want to keep talking about work or are you ready to forget?"

Harry wasn't being rude, nor was he belittling your frustration. You'd done this song and dance a time or two, but some days required you to vent more than others.

Around the straw, you said, "Can I?"

He sat beside you, taking Hades in his lap, who was happy to be held even though he was getting way too big for it. Usually, you chided Harry for holding Hades like that, but you were too tired, and honestly, it was kind of cute.

You talked while you ate, and Harry listened, letting you get everything you needed off your chest. He was quiet but attentive, apologizing for things out of his control and cursing your co-workers when you did. None of it would really improve the situation at work, but you always appreciated Harry's willingness to listen when you needed him to, and share in your anger and frustration when necessary.

Standing from the table, you took your plate and put everything in the dishwasher. Grabbing your plastic cup in one hand and Harry's hand in the other, you said, "I think I'm all done."

Harry kissed your temple before pulling you up the stairs toward your bedroom. Hades snaked between you and him to run ahead, waiting on the landing impatiently. "Good, because the Real Housewives of Salt Lake City won't wait for just anyone."

"Not a reading night, huh?" you asked, resting your head on his shoulder. Harry looked down and raised his brows in an expression that expressed he was not, in fact, going to be cracking open his book tonight. Kissing his cheek, you said, "Go ahead and start the next episode, baby. I'm gonna hop in the shower and wash my day off."

Harry, who'd been on his way to do just that, paused and frowned. "Well now I want to watch something else."

Grinning, you held out your hand while you continued to sip your drink. "Come on."

Hades, who had already claimed his spot at the edge of your bed, tilted his head to one side, clearly confused as to why his parents were walking away instead of joining him. "We'll be quick," you promised, even though you knew your dog didn't understand. But the message was for Harry too.

When you were finally in bed, watching Harry's show through eyes that were struggling to stay open, you looked up from where you resting against his shoulder. Harry's glasses were perched on his nose, his eyes focused on the television in front of him as he ran his hand idly over Hades' fur, who had conveniently found his way onto your lap once you settled into bed for the night.

"If you insist," Harry said on an exhale, turning the shower on and setting it to a temperature he knew you both liked.

"Be honest," you said suddenly. "I'd be happier if I quit, right?"

Harry was quiet, but you knew he'd heard you. He was just weighing his words. "Is another job lined up in this alternate universe?" he finally asked.

"I don't know, maybe. They argue quite a bit, though. Don't think you want to be part of all that drama," he replied, taking the remote and pausing his show. He looked down at you, eyes soft but perhaps a little concerned. You'd never considered his offer of letting him provide for you this seriously before. "Honestly? I think you'd get bored, bub."

You shrugged. "I don't know. You've said you'd always take care of me. What if I just...let you? I could be one of them," you mused, nodding your head at the women on your TV.

A nod and a noncommittal hum was your only response for a few seconds until you'd gathered your thoughts. "I'm just so...tired. I'm tired of everything I do not being appreciated. I'm tired of not being supported. I love my regulars and I like most of my co-workers, and part of me feels a sense of loyalty to this place despite, well, everything."

"We'll do some job hunting tomorrow," Harry said. "I'll help you update your resume, you'll send some feelers out, and we'll go from there. How does that sound?"

"I could get a remote job," you mused. "I'd get to be home more. I could travel more with you."

Harry kissed the top of your head. "As much as I would love that, I think your strengths lie in the connections you make with people. You certainly charmed the pants off me."

"Literally or metaphorically?"

"Both."

You grinned, cheeks reddening as you recalled the night you first met Harry.

*.*

"Holy shit you're Harry Styles."

Your hand immediately clapped over your mouth, as if physically covering it would keep you from embarrassing yourself further. In your defense, it was the first time a celebrity sat in your section at work, and no one had thought to warn you. And Harry Styles, no less. The man in front of you was probably still immortalized on your childhood bedroom wall, and now you'd all but outed yourself as a fan when he'd no doubt wanted some privacy.

"I'm so sorry, I—" How were you supposed to recover from this? Harry stared at you with a small smile, a pitying one, no doubt. God, you had one opportunity to act cool in front of a celebrity and you blew it in less than ten seconds. "I'm sorry, let me start over. Hi, I'm Y/n, and I'll be taking care of you today. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just a water please," Harry replied, his voice soft as his smile widened, which made you think that perhaps he thought you making an absolute fool out of yourself was at the very least amusing.

Once you made it back to the service station to retrieve his water glass, you gave yourself exactly one minute to collect yourself. "He's just another customer. An extremely attractive customer," you murmured, grabbing a pitcher of water from the fridge. "You can do this, Y/n. Pull yourself together."

From there, things went smoothly. You acted like you hadn't freaked out when you initially greeted Harry's table, and Harry was thankfully on board with that plan. He was polite, wasn't fussed when a dish he wanted couldn't be made vegetarian, and was surprisingly interested in making conversation with you anytime you were at his table.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Too long," you joked. "Sometimes I feel like there's a bit of Stockholm Syndrome with this place, but the tips are good."

Your eyes widened a bit when you realized he might think you were making a joke about one of his songs—which you absolutely weren't trying to do—but you didn't comment on it, and thankfully neither did he. You talked a little bit more about the career you did want to get into, and casually asked what brought him to the restaurant you worked at. It wasn't one celebrities tended to frequent, but perhaps that was its charm to Harry.

"Had a day to myself, just thought I'd do some exploring," he explained before you left him to enjoy his meal.

You'd gotten a couple more tables since then and couldn't go over and talk to Harry like you wanted, but perhaps that was for the best. You flitted around the restaurant floor like you always did, charming customers and taking complaints in stride with a smile. Tips were key, and snarky comments or not being accommodating would get you nowhere with certain customers, even if it did kill you inside just a little bit to see an insufferable person get their way.

You didn't realize it at the time, but according to Harry, he watched you—not in a creepy way, per his recollection of your first meeting. He watched you chat with regulars and help your co-workers place orders and carefully placate disgruntled customers. And all the while, you still managed to stop by his table, smiling and topping off the coffee he ordered after he ate, which, according to him he'd done just so he could keep talking to you.

Apparently, he'd been working up the courage to flirt with you when you finally set the check down on the table. "No rush," you said with a smile before heading to another table, a party of ten that you accidentally huffed to him was supposed to be a party of five.

Harry paid, then smiled when his bill and credit card came back to him. Sorry for acting like an idiot earlier. It was nice meeting you! you'd written on the receipt, adorning it with a smiley face. You watched as Harry smiled as he read your note from Expo before one of the line cooks shouted at you to run the food that was up.

You didn't think you'd ever see Harry again, a universal truth, some might've called it. But for some reason, the notion disappointed you, and not because you didn't get a picture with your teenage crush. It felt bigger than that somehow, which was altogether crazy considering you'd only just met him.

So imagine your surprise when you saw him again two days later. "He was supposed to be in my section, but he insisted on yours. Don't fuck it up," one of your more vile co-workers told you, clearly jealous. And as you saw him, his head bent over the menu and his knee bouncing beneath the booth, your heart leaped in your chest in a way that made you both nervous and excited.

"You forgot something," he said as he closed out his check for the second time that week. Time had passed in a blur, despite it slowing down every time you went over to talk to him, which was to say a lot. It wasn't as busy as the day he first came in, leaving you no choice but to check on him more than you normally would.

"Did I?" you asked, looking down at the bill with furrowed brows.

"Last time I was here, I mean," Harry corrected.

Last time, you thought. All Harry had gotten was a salad and a coffee, but the tip he left was well over half of what your other tables had left that day combined. But you rang everything in correctly. Perhaps he was expecting a discount for his celebrity status? He didn't seem like the type, but that was the only conclusion you were able to draw.

"The note you left," he continued, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He sat up straighter, giving you a better view of the Keith Harring shirt he wore. "It didn't have your number on it, so I've had to come back the last two days so I could ask you for it. Only now I know you don't work on Mondays."

Shock ran through your entire body, to the point where you couldn't even speak. Harry, Harry Styles, mind you, wanted your number. Badly enough that he'd come back to an average Mom-and-Pop restaurant to get it.

"No, I—I don't," was all you could manage as your entire face heated up.

"I hope I'm not sounding like a creep right now," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I realize now I may have participated in some light stalking."

"You're not," you blurted, trying to remember how to speak. You felt like you'd somehow entered an alternate dimension. "Here, hold on."

You pulled your order pad from your back pocket and scribbled your number down, willing your hands to stop shaking. Ripping it off the stack, you handed it to Harry, who took it from you graciously.

"Can I call you later?" he asked, standing up from the booth. You had to back up a couple steps to give him room, and you were now aware of just how tall he was as you craned your neck to look at him.

"Please," you blurted, cursing yourself for sounding so eager. Harry didn't seem to mind, though, smiling as he slipped his phone and wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. "I—I mean, sure. I'm off at eight tonight."

"I'll be counting down the minutes," he said before cursing under his breath. "Shit. I sounded like a stalker again, didn't I?"

A laugh bubbled out of you, making Harry's shoulders relax. "I'll allow it. Just this once."

Harry laughed too, then winked, and you were honestly so proud of yourself for not swooning in front of him. "I guess I'll be talking to you later then, Y/n."

*.*

"You made me so nervous," you said as you recalled the memory of how you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Harry the first time you met.

"I know," he said, laughing when you smacked his arm. "It was cute, though! And you also made me plenty nervous, to be fair."

"That is true," you sighed, grinning a little as you turned your face into his arm. "One of us stalked the other, and it certainly wasn't me."

"Sure, but one of us has posters of the other plastered all over their childhood bedroom."

Scoffing, you sat up and scooted away from him, making Hades bark in protest. "It's one poster. And you weren't even my favorite. Zayn was."

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

"I will."

Sighing, you settled deeper against him, as much as you could considering the puppy still in your lap. "Sometimes I think I keep the job because that's where we met."

"It's okay to let it go. We'll have the memory," Harry promised, his hand meeting yours as he began to scratch Hades' fur. "We'll figure it out. I promise."

Nodding, you reached for the remote and pressed play on the show, content to leave the conversation there. If Harry promised to help you figure it out, then you believed him.

[weebsinstash]

Really like the idea of a yandere Vox who is so ride or die for his overconsumerist capitalist Musk-esque lifestyle UNTIL he sees it negatively affecting his darling and does a complete 180

like take that poly red string soulmate Vox x Reader x Alastor concept and, you've got Alastor KINDA warming up to technology and willing to watch TV and do other things with you but he's still not a fan of you being on your phone constantly and some of the video games and movies you consume. He's on the couch reading a paper and (affectionately) rolling his eyes as you and Vox take turns headshotting each other in a video game and hollering "hell yeah, suck my fucking dick!!"

Meanwhile Vox is just 200% chronically online and loving it until one day he asks you why you wear baggy clothes all the time and you're ever so casually replying "because my body is fucking icky, duh" and Vox has absolutely no idea what you're talking about until you break down on a tangent about it

I was watching a clip the other day where someone was pointing out that Marilyn Monroe was considered the 50s icon of beauty and there are plenty of photos with her with thick thighs or a visible belly pooch and, imagine Vox sitting there, the disbelieving 'are you joking?' smile falling off of his face as you just, go OFF, "why would I wear anything other than sweatpants? I have fucking CELLULITE VOX, I'll NEVER have leggings legs no matter how thin I am, and look at my hip dips, they're so fucking GROSS, and my butt isn't shaped right, I have banana rolls, and, do I have siren eyes or doe eyes?! Am I bunny cute or am I frog cute?! And look at how bad my facial balancing is! Ugh, where's my gua sha?! I'm so tired of being UGLY!!"

Later that week Alastor is looking up from his paper to see Vox just, slowly entering the room, sloooooowly shutting the door behind him, looking to his old friend, "so hey! Funny idea, stop me if you've heard this one before but, I was thinking we could uh, maybe take their phone away annnnnnnnnnd... not give it back?" and here's Alastor, "oh, funny story! So earlier today they asked me if I 'wouldn't like them anymore' if they got COSMETIC SURGERY, yeah, ON THEIR FACE BELIEVE IT OR NOT, so, naturally, I'm already one step ahead of you :)" as he just casually gestures to the smashed wifi router in the garbage can in the corner of the room

You just get home from work one day and Vox has his CRT head back on and you're told 'if you want to look something up online, you can use the desktop in the computer room, and only 3 hours of screen time' and it all but blasts you 15 years into the past 💀 no more nights where you're gaming for 5+ hours straight and ruining your sleep. No more skipping meals because you're hyperfocused and binge-watching an anime while also playing an idle game on your phone. No more Alastor and Vox finding out you're just smoking bowls for hours literally nonstop because you need some sort of extra stimulation while you doomscroll and watch 3 hour long roast reviews for shows you've never watched

Alastor catches you swiping through an app and you get a divisive video thrown in your face from some alpha dude bro podcast, "yeah, a real man knows how to protect his lady! She should be at home cooking and keeping the house clean, not running around like a tramp and doing dumb chick stuff! All women need to focus on is marriage and being good wives, you know, a TRADITIONAL relationship!" and Alastor is just, swiping that shit out of your hand, "he DOES have a bit of a point, repulsive as he is! I suppose I'll have to start looking at potential dwellings that can fit you, me, and, I SUPPOSE Vox too 🙄" and little do you know he's already got a cute little home in the 'burbs set up already. He's just... you know! Waiting for the right moment to let you and the annoying TV bastard know that you'll be moving! Maybe he'll just... wait until the day of! Nothing beats a fun surprise, right? ^^ he doesn't want either of you... trying to run away or anything after all haha!

[queer-in-a-cornfield]

Some of us on the discord were discussing what Dewey would be like as an adult yesterday, prompting this little fic (1325 words) based on my hc that Dewey would become a stage actor

Dewey walks down the busy streets of New York, humming some vocal warmups. While he appears as calm and collected as he ever does, his mind is racing a mile a minute.

Today was his Broadway debut, and he was equal parts excited and nervous. He’d done many a show in the past but those were different. This was BROADWAY, the gold standard of theatre. Sure, this wasn’t a principal role or anything, he was just replacing a departing ensemble member, but still! A Broadway debut is a Broadway debut. It’s a big day, and he’s freaking out a little.

He rounds the corner of the theatre and opens the stage door, making a pit stop to check in for the day and readjust his bag. He nearly drops his coffee but manages to set it down to adjust his grip before continuing on to his dressing room.

He swings the door open and finds that Rico and Alex, the castmates who share the room with him had already arrived.

“Hey, guys!” Dewey says as he walks over to his designated area. He pauses suddenly before he can put his things down. “What’s all this?”

Surrounding his mirror were a pair of blue balloons, some confetti, and a handwritten banner on top that read “Congrats on your debut!”

Rico speaks up, “It’s your first show tonight, Dewey! If that isn’t cause for celebration I don’t know what is.” Alex nods in agreement.

“Aw, thanks guys,” Dewey smiles, clearing away some of the confetti to put down his bag.

“So how’re you feeling? Ready to show the world what you’re made of?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, I’m really excited, I’ve been dreaming about this for years,” he says, pulling out his notes to review once he finishes warming up.

He spends the next few minutes stretching, uncharacteristically quiet, before sighing and asking, “Guys, you’ve both done this for a while, so… how did you get over the nerves? It still feels insane that I’m even here, and I’m really worried that something’ll go wrong and ruin my chances of continuing here.”

Rico sighs, “I’m not gonna lie, that fear just takes time to get over. But trust me, you’re gonna do great tonight, and soon enough you won’t be so anxious anymore.”

The trio sit in silence for a moment before Alex pipes up, “Didn’t you mention that one of your brothers had a history with anxiety? Maybe he’ll have some advice for you.”

Dewey nods, then grabs his phone from his pocket, pulls up Huey’s contact, and starts a video call.

“Hey Dewey, what’s up?” Huey’s voice picks up through the phone speakers.

“Hi, Hubert. Did you guys just land or something?” Dewey asks, noticing Huey’s surroundings.

“Yeah, we just landed, oh… fifteen minutes ago? We just got to baggage claim- sorry, one sec,” he says, turning to talk to someone off-screen.

Suddenly Uncle Scrooge appears on screen. “Dewey, lad! Can- can ya see me- how does this thing- curse me kilts, what did Ah just-“ Scrooge says as he confusedly fiddles with the phone.

“Uncle Scrooge, I’ll hold the phone for you,” Huey interjects as he grabs his phone back and centers them both on screen.

“So why’d you want to talk to me, Dew?” Huey asks.

Dewey pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before explaining. But he pauses a moment too long because more faces suddenly attempt to crowd into the view of Huey’s phone camera, all trying to greet him at once. Dewey snickers a little watching Uncle Donald, the last one to get back from claiming their baggage, trying to squeeze into view with little success.

“Hey guys,” Dewey says. “I love you all, but if I could maybe just talk to Huey for a second? I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Reluctantly the rest of the group backs out of frame, leaving once again only Huey.

Sighing amusedly, Huey asks, “Okay, so what did you want me for, Dew?”

“Okay, so, like, I was wondering, basically, like-,” Dewey pauses for a second. “How do you handle your anxiety? Cause I’m kinda freaking out a little right now.”

Huey thinks for a moment. “Well, different things work for different people, but whenever my nerves are getting to me I usually like to take some deep breaths, or you could do the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, ummm… yeah, I’d say those are my go-to's. I’d also say that drinking coffee wouldn’t help with nerves at all but I don’t think you’d listen to that one, so…”

Dewey laughs, “Thanks, Huey.”

“Of course, Dew. And also remember, we’re all gonna be there cheering for yo-,” Huey gets cut off by a nearby thud, which he turns to look at.

“Uncle Donald’s suitcase just broke,” Huey explains, walking over to help. “You’re gonna do great tonight and we can’t wait to see you after the show! Break a leg!” Huey signs off.

“Bye Huey, see you guys later,” Dewey replies, ending the call.

“Man, it’s still so weird to me that the richest duck in the world is your uncle,” Alex says.

“I don’t know if that’s more surprising or the fact that he doesn’t have a private plane to get here on,” Rico adds.

“Well, we do have a plane but the pilot can’t make it out here until next week. Aaaaand I’m realizing how much of a spoiled rich kid I sound like right now,” Dewey starts laughing again.

“Nah, if you want a really spoiled rich kid that would be more of a… what’s his name? That creep who got all his money from his grandmeemawmaw or whatever?” Alex retorts.

“Doofus Drake?” Rico supplies.

“Yes, him!”

“Oh, you guys don’t even know the half of it,” Dewey exclaims, getting back into his stretching.

——————————————————————-

Dewey opens up the stage door to exit the building. It was dark out now. He was one of the earlier cast members out of the doors, so there was a pretty good-sized crowd greeting him. As he worms his way through them, some congratulate him for making his Broadway debut, and one woman even asks for a picture, which catches him slightly off guard.

Eventually, he makes his way past the main crowd where he is finally greeted by his family, who all promptly give him a bear hug.

“Dewey!!! That was amazing!” Webby exclaims once they all pull away.

“I knew you’d do great,” Huey concurs, grinning.

“Theatre has never been my thing, so believe me when I say that that absolutely blew me away,” Louie adds.

“I’m so proud of ye, lad,” Scrooge says. “Ye’ve done well for yerself.”

Uncle Donald, at a loss for words, smiles and gives him another bear hug.

Della then pries Donald off of him to give him her own hug.

“You boys never cease to make me proud,” she says as she lets him go.

“Aw, you guys,” Dewey says, laughing a little. “You’re gonna get me emotional.”

“We’ve all been emotional since you came on stage, it’s your turn now,” Huey jokes.

Dewey laughs, “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to interrupt a nice family moment, but would you guys like a picture?” Rico says suddenly from behind Dewey, startling him.

“Oh my god, Rico! You can’t scare me like that!”

Dewey recollects himself and turns back to face his family.

“Guys, this is Rico, one of my castmates. Fam, Rico, Rico, fam. And yeah, I think we’d like a picture.”

An obscene amount of pictures later, everyone has their phones back with significantly less storage space than before.

“Thanks, Rico!” Dewey calls out as his castmate departs.

“See you tomorrow,” he yells back.

“Well,” Della says. “I think it’s time for some celebration! What time were those reservations for, Uncle Scrooge?”

“… In ten minutes.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get going then!” She exclaims, prompting the group to hurry off to this restaurant, dragging a confused but happy Dewey along with them.

[taz-ma-raz-skylar]

I tried my best to translate the interview from Tikitakas!

( Mario Espinosa de los Monteros took the interview and uploaded it on March 29, 2024 08:42 CET)

Taz Skylar, the canary who triumphs on Netflix: "One Piece gave me an interspatial rocket with which I travel between planets"

The actor reviews his life with Diario AS and tells how he has left everything he had, several times, until he played Sanji, one of the protagonists of the series.

Personality, desires and ambitions are always cooked on a low heat. The pillars that support an individual are built brick by brick. The pillar of the past seems to be over, but every second something new is added. The one of the now is the closest and the most fictitious, because it gets out of hand before it can touch it. And the one of the future is raised by a ghost. That's how complex the reality is. Taz Skylar makes it simple: he steals his own bricks and assembles an excavator. It puts it in sixth gear, rams and destroys everything. Then, he collects the debris and begins to build again: a pillar in the shape of a scriptwriter, another with the appearance of an actor, another as a surfboard manufacturer. "You don't have to know everything, you just have to know what the next thing you have to do."

Taz plays the chef Sanji in the adaptation that Netflix has made of One Piece, the best-selling manga in history - so say the Guinness records - but to get there he has had to give a few strokes to his life. Today it is difficult to present it, but we will say that, among all things, he is a great actor who has been reinventing his life since he had the power to do so.

When we remember the life of Taz, who at 28 years old is still insultingly young, we see the times he has done and undone his way. His father is an Arab of Lebanese origin born in Sierra Leone, and his mother from Yorkshire (England), but he was born in Tenerife. As a child, "I didn't have too many friends" and "I spent all day on the internet, reading and watching videos." He was an introverted person who began to cook his imagination. He wasn't good at soccer or basketball, he was afraid of water and didn't run fast. The school wasn't his thing. He was diagnosed with dyslexia. Now he parachutes on Sundays, he is a black belt in taekwondo and has four series in production.

Leave everything to get somewhere.

At only 15 years old he started the excavator: he found an escape form in surfing, left school and went to Australia to repair boards. My whole life has been that. I'm leaving school and I'm going to Australia. I get there and look for my life. I'm running out of visa. Where am I going now? To California, come on. Then where? To San Sebastian." In this last city, capital of Guipúzcoa, he came to settle. "I was 18 years old and a little house, my car, a schedule that allowed me to train and travel." But he changed it to go to London "to live in a house shared with five people that had leaks on the roof and a bucket in the corner where the water fell." He wanted to be a screenwriter because he told the stories of the surfers to sell the boards. He broke with everything.

"When I went to Australia I didn't have much to lose, at most I was thrown there. But I was fifteen years old and I didn't look starving, someone was going to give me food and water." That's why, when he left San Sebastián, he felt that he was sacrificing something for the first time. "In London my bed was an Ikea sofa bed with a sleeping bag on top. I remember getting there and saying 'what the fuck did I just do'. I threwat everything I had in the trash and changed it for that, simply because I would like to be a screenwriter." Why did you hesitate that time, after years of knocking down pillars? "It's harder to give an axe to your life when it's tolerable. That is, it is easier to cut the head of nothing to achieve a lot, than to cut the head of something with the possibility of staying in nothing. There's the danger, in having something." Well, cutting heads on their way to London.

Question: Would you have gotten to where you are without maintaining that attitude?

Answer: "No, crazy, not at all. If I hadn't kept it, I don't know what would have happened to me. Basically I have a very intense energy, I have analyzed it a lot and I am aware that, if it were not because I have the ability to put my energy into positive things, I could easily have ended up badly, a person very addicted to things that are not good. Luckily I'm addicted to good things. If it weren't for this attitude, I could easily have been in a circle of bad things."

The beginnings in London were difficult. The change to urban life, too. Taz wrote and wrote. He enlisted in the Army reserves, but suffered a traffic accident and did not pass the medical exam. Then, he wrote and wrote, and released a play called Warheads, which explores the life of a soldier before and after the war and the post-traumatic stress it generates. Warheads was nominated for the Olivier (the most prestigious theater award in the United Kingdom) and the leaks of his house, the sleeping bag and the Ikea mattress made sense. Now yes.

Q: You say that Warheads changes your life completely.

A: "Yes. It was the moment when I felt that I could take the world outside me and put my will on it. In England, theater is very important for culture and Olivier is a literary prize for a very cultured person. For me, as a person who felt with an uneducated complex for not having gone to school, for always having spelling mistakes and for having a way of writing that no one understood, it was like an 'ah, I don't have to be intelligent in the conventional way to be able to aspire to have a prize'. Suddenly, everyone around me took me seriously. A door was opened that led to another staircase that led to another floor. I saw very new things and I was able to enter rooms that I had not entered before."

Q: If that changes your life, what does One Piece do with it?

A: "Warheads gave me a car. I was walking through life, and suddenly I had a car. One Piece took the car, threw it through a ravine and gave me an interspatial rocket with which I travel between planets. I talk all day with my best friend Vincent about how absurd it is and the number of opportunities and beautiful things we can do now. We are not taking it as if it were normal. We look into each other's eyes and say 'I can't believe this is happening'. And that's happening every day."

"But the One Piece thing was very fast. When One Piece announced the characters, that night I was at the theater in London doing a play, and when I entered the dressing room during the break, I saw my cell phone doing 'backflips' (it makes a gesture of an uncontrollable spiral with my index finger). I was followed by 1,000 people per minute. The transition from the car to the rocket was very fast, from one day to the next he had 200,000 followers. Although followers are not a way to govern your life, there I could see the difference so instantaneous. When the promos came out, people began to recognize us more, but in the Canary Islands they still asked me if I was still making boards. He was completely alien. But when the series came out, we already had the rocket mounted and they pressed the button. When I returned to Tenerife, the fruit shop asked me for photos."

Taz plays Sanji, the cook of the crew of the pirate ship on which the One Piece manga is based, which is something like a 'Japanese-a-ye' comic. Netflix has made an adaptation of the illustrated work to a Live Action, a series with real actors. His character is one of the best known, most beloved, most charismatic. In the previous video, Taz puts a black belt on the character he plays. His character fights with kicks, so he had to learn martial arts in record time.

Q: You added the taekwondo to your list of things to learn

A: "I feel many times that I do everything in a mediocre way, but I don't do anything very well. There's something very nice about that. I took the taekwondo as an example for this. Because when you get your greatest growth is from white to black belt, but once you are in black, the improvements become very difficult, as if very perfect. That is, I go from 0 to 10 from white to black, but the 11th, which is perfection, I am not so interested, only in some aspects. I don't think you can have an 11 in everything, maybe in your life you can only have an 11, or two at most. But not everything can be an 11. I have a lot of fives, a couple of eights, a few ten, and I still don't have an 11, but that's what I'm in."

If we attribute each copy sold (more than 500 million) to one person, the readers of One Piece would considerably exceed the population of the United States and would be more than 10 times that of Spain. In the face of this mass phenomenon...

Q: Are you afraid that Taz will become Sanji? That the character stars with you?

A: "Yes, it is not a fear as such, but it is something that all of us (the rest of the actors of the series) have in mind and to which we are all vulnerable. But look, if that happens, not so bad, because we won't be able to complain about a life like that, it's still a beautiful life. In my case, since I have never fallen into what people thought was going to fall, I have a feeling that it is not a real problem for me. I may be wrong, but between the first and second seasons of One Piece I have made a series and two movies that have nothing to do with the character of Sanji. I have four series in production that have nothing to do with the world of One Piece. I don't say it in an arrogant way, but confident of myself or aspiring to be sure of myself."

Q: The Live Action of other series have not been as successful as yours. Why One Piece, yes?

A: "Two reasons based on my analysis. Matt Owens, the showrunner and lead screenwriter, is a true fan of the anime, he wants the anime with all his heart and the anime knows it better than most fans."

Taking care of the smallest detail, the producers of Live Action contacted One Piece content creators to ask them about the production and script of the series. One of them was Artur - The Library of Ohara, who helped in "the process of writing the script, mainly for the story, the 'Easter Eggs' and the timeline." He appears several times in the podcast 'Radio Pirata', where he demonstrates his knowledge and, ultimately, why he received a call from Netflix.

Taz continues explaining the first reason: "Matt, while making the series, put his artistic opinion on it, and at the same time kept everything he loved about intellectual property. That's not something that everyone can do. It wouldn't have been the same series without Matt, he knew deeply what he wanted from each character and who was going to play it. He took great care of us and gave us the tools to bring from the characters what we wanted. I went one day and I told him 'Matt, I want to do all the fights, I don't want to be bent'. I tell him like a 25-year-old boy who has never gone to school, who has not studied theater or done action dubbing in his fucking life. He took and looked at me with all the confidence in the world and said: 'Okay, let's do it.'"

Q: And the second reason?

A: "The cast of actors, the set of what we five are, is the other reason. I'm sorry because we're all very different, but since only one of us is missing, it's not the same in interviews, organizing anything, recording... The fact that we are different makes us complement each other perfectly. There is something very special that happened with the symbiosis of the five of us, we are really friends, which is not something as common as you would expect in this world. We are really friends and we take great care of ourselves both inside and outside the series."

Two weeks after the premiere, Netflix announced that a second season of One Piece's Live Action would be filmed. There are many important characters left to appear, protagonist characters who will be incorporated into the second season.

Q: Is that good relationship and connection between actors a requirement to be part of the cast in the second season?

R: "It's a good question. Yes, I know that's part of the conversations, but we don't decide or think about who it will be. We hear the conversations and talk inside them (Taz laughs, he seems to remember something). And in those conversations we see that it is very important that the people who join form a good part of the family, but that is as much work of the actor who comes new as ours. It is a basic decency to give a good welcome to people who arrive new."

Q: Have you felt pressure when adapting One Piece?

A: "From the moment we started, from the first moment, everyone reminded us of Death Note. People close to us tell you a little jokingly and don't realize the severity of what they are putting in your head. They are telling you, in a casual way, that there is a possibility that these three years of your life in which you have bled to dead for something, are absolutely worthless. We had to manage that at all times within ourselves, going to work firmly believing in what we were doing and in the people with whom we were doing it. Three years militants. The time comes when you can't do any more work and what you've done is what's left, and you can only wait until what you did with others is enough so that they don't cut your head (laughs). But I want to clarify that the fans are very enthusiastic and most of us supported us from the first moment."

The creative process and convincing a mother

There's something curious about Taz and it's the number of times he laughs per minute. Smile when we bring ut more serious topics. He smiles when he almost misses something about the new actors. He smiles as he recalls anecdotes with the fans. But it changes to a serious face when we talk about the actor's creative process. In the premiere of the movie Gassed Up, he said that he only wanted to be part of projects that his mother could enjoy.

Q: I think it's the most ambitious goal anyone can have, always to convince a mother!

A: (Laughs) "I think I meant something a little more different, but what you say is true. I wanted to say that, since I do not come from this world (that of interpretation) I see it as my secret weapon because it gives me a real perspective on what we do in art. Sometimes we do a cult of certain things that I think is important and productive, but it can be elitist. Although I can appreciate and understand some more complex or cultured things, my mother doesn't have to appreciate them."

Q: In an interview you told the journalist that, if I had met you as a child, I would never have imagined that you would end up this way. And you, would you have imagined yourself like that?

A: "Yes. It's a good question, bro. And yes. So much so that I was alone, and I had no friends, I stayed all day on the internet, reading and watching videos. My life was a fantasy and it said 'it would be beautiful to do what I saw in an action movie'. I remember watching skydiving or surfing in movies and telling my mother 'that would be beautiful to do'. But I was never going to do it. I had fantasies of doing things that I was afraid of at the same time. But when you think about doing something, there's always a part of you that thinks it's not going to happen."

Q: The fear of taking a risk

A: "Yes. No one gets into this industry without aspirations to make a living from this. To have a beautiful life, to take care of your family... But there is a large part of you that has in mind that it is quite likely that you will not get it. If you asked me when I was little that I was going to be older, I wouldn't have told you that I would, I would have told you that I hope something handsome."

Q: What if I ask you now?

A: I hope to be something better than I am now.

[remapped-soul]

3. Later

Show don't tell masterlist

nico/jenson, 891 words, comfort

For my dear @colors-of-feeling who wasn't feeling so well the other day and i wanted to offer her some comfort. I hope you'll like it and i hope you're feeling better <3

The first time Nico realises that his day might turn into a bad day is when he catches himself staring at the coffee machine for too long. He blinks at it, lost in a trance, index finger gnawing at the corner of a chipped nail. The phone rings and it pulls him out of it. His hands are cold. His schedule is packed. He doesn’t have time for an impromptu breakdown, but because he is a good boy and his therapist would be disappointed otherwise, he unlocks his tablet and schedules fifteen minutes of soul-searching later in the week. He can check in with his feelings while running on the treadmill. Mens sana in corpore sano and all that. Satisfied with his decision, he downs his shot of espresso and returns to work.

The second time Nico realises that his day might be fucked is during a meeting about the next Greentech festival. His mind keeps running away from him and he keeps pulling it back to the present and it escapes him once again. It gets to the point he doesn’t realise he’s doing it and Michaela has to clear her throat to get his attention.

“Nico. What do you think about it?”

Nico looks up from his doodle. It takes a hot second for the screen to focus in front of his eyes, for the faces to show up in all their splendid confusion. He grins, unperturbed. “We should keep going forward.”

A pause. “So you agree that we should cut down on the number of days in the festival, right? For Singapore?”

Nico’s grin doesn’t slip. “Unless you don’t think you’re capable enough of getting Messer Group on board, then yes, we should cut down the festival to three days.”

No one says anything for a long second. If there is something he learned during his stint in Formula 1 is to pay attention to the conversations around him without actually paying attention. He has to thank Lewis for that.

“Are we done for today? Good. Let’s meet up in a few days when we have the final list of guests. You have until Friday,” he says and ends the Zoom meeting with a click of a button. He throws the doodled papers in the trash bin without a second glance. It’s only noon. He needs lunch, maybe a wank, and he is good to go again.

The third time it happens, Nico doesn’t even realise how fucked he is. He is in the middle of reviewing the script for his next vlog. An hour passes and then another and he doesn’t get past the first two pages. Words stop making sense in English, and then in German. He’s been in his office since the first hours of the morning so maybe he just needs a change of scenery. When something doesn’t seem to work, change the mindset or change the environment. Sometimes, the latter took care of the former as well. There is a reason Nico doesn’t regret retiring from racing.

So he gets up from his desk, gathers his papers and his favourite pen and goes to the living room, sits on the part of the couch closer to the window, closer to the sun. Legs crossed one over the other to not wrinkle his pants. But something happens between that and getting back to work. The TV remote catches his eye, a song that’s been playing in the back of his mind suddenly rings louder in his ears. He tells himself, one video, one episode, one song because his therapist taught him about working hard and rewarding himself. Nico is nothing but a diligent student.

One video, one episode, one song later, there is a hand in his hair, fingers scratching soothingly against his scalp. His head feels heavy, so he lets it fall back against a soft surface, a soft shirt, wrinkles everywhere. It smells like—

“Jenson.” Nico’s eyes feel bleary even with his glasses on.

Jenson smiles down at him, fingers still so gentle in his hair, head cradled against the soft planes of his body, grounding him. “Hi, sweetheart. What are you watching?”

Nico says, “I think I’m having a bad day,” because his therapist has taught him to talk about his feelings. The papers sit discarded on the floors. Nico hasn’t touched them in hours. His pants are wrinkled where he tucked his knees underneath him. If he moves, he is afraid he will break. “How was your day, Jense?”

Jenson presses a kiss to his temple, lips dry with the chill of autumn. His fingers trace the shape of Nico’s ear, follow the cut of his jaw, press against the delicate bones of his collarbones. Jenson takes off his tie, his watch, his belt. He gets behind Nico and puts his hands on Nico’s body, pulling him closer. Nico tries to press as much of himself against Jenson, face against the warm side of his neck, arms around his waist. If he could, he’d crack Jenson’s ribs open and crawl inside, in the space between his heart and his lungs, where is the warmest.

“What are we watching?” Jenson asks, but Nico’s eyes are already closing. He falls asleep to warm hands on his back, in his hair, to lips pressed again his forehead. It’s warm. Nico lets himself breathe.

[deadinarussianelevator]

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#yeah - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#someone as brilliant as peterson having to say ‘i am nothing without the one who formed me in my mothers womb and gives me breath every day’

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Oh, the power is out? You mean I get to carry around a candle like there’s a mystery around every corner?

463 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

#4

Can't believe our friend Jonathan Harker has damsel in distress syndrome, locked in a tower like that by a monster, no one daring to rescue him.

469 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

#3

Tired of people finding the End of the World in everything.

We’re told to be ready, not conspiratorial.

We’re also told to not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough trouble if it’s own.

Jesus may come back in our life time. He may not. The world may get really bad… and it still may not be His timing.

We are to remain faithful while we’re here and to be good stewards. We’re told to boldly proclaim the gospel to the ends of the earth. Be fruitful, multiply.

Those of us in the comfy west think that once we experience any level of political unrest, however minor, it MUST be The End Timez.

How long has the believer in China suffered? In Russia? In the Middle East? And yet the Lord hasn’t returned. It hasn’t been time yet.

It is not for us to know when. So then, we must continue to remain steadfast in the hope that is set before us.

625 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

#2

Okay but there is a reason that we as people go absolutely feral for redemption stories and narratives that end with the person who was in the wrong confessing their faults and their loved one - be it romantic, familial, or what have you - forgiving them and saying, "Forget it, I'm here with you now and I'll be with you until the end." My dudes that is the GOSPEL. WE ALL LONG FOR THE GOSPEL.

1,407 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Dr. Seward: haha.. it’s almost like you’re trying to keep out an evil spirit

Dr. Van Helsing:

1,598 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[girltomboy]

Ok so yesterday I ended up doing absolutely nothing but playing video games and reading. 🦥 My hair was still damp when I finished working, and because of my overall indisposition and irritation I did not go anywhere. Today I'm less pissed off at the world, and I intend to finally go to the hairdresser's after work. My hair is so flat and dry it's actually criminal that I've let it get to this point, but I swear it was not like this until fairly recently. Like just a few days ago, maybe a week, I was feeling my ends and they were soft and silky. Anyway I just hope they - SOMEONE! ANYONE! - will be able to give me a trim today.

After my 🙏 trim 🙏 I'm gonna go to this corner store and buy the following:

pasta

root beer (first time I ever see root beer where I live, I'm so excited to try it!!!!)

potato chips (some local Balkanic brand that only seems to exist in that one particular store, you know it's that good shit when you find something like this. The salt flavored chips are incredible and they're the only ones I've tried, they also have paprika and sour cream&onion flavors. The last time I went there they didn't have salted ones anymore, so I didn't get any, but this time I'll try the sour cream&onion if I don't find the salt - otherwise I'll get both 🤓)

grana padano . For the pasta

this vanilla cream & jam pie I had once from there... no idea what it's called, I've tried looking it up but found nothing that even resembles it. The name on the label was "Florentine", everything I find is either eggs or biscuits. It was heavenly, it was exactly the kind of pie that I always imagined pies to taste like in cartoons and books. There was the soft dough, right, sort of like a donut, and then vanilla cream like a pudding, and in the center it had some sort of jam, sour cherry. The jam was savory rather than sweet. It mixed so well with the sweet creamy vanilla. Just out of this world, but I haven't been able to find it since then, and obviously it doesn't seem to exist anywhere else. That store is operating on a different level.

I've been reading History of the Thirteen by Balzac, and honestly I'm enjoying it a great deal, however I'm a bit confused because its contents don't match any of the descriptions or reviews I've found of it online. It doesn't even match the preface (admittedly I've only read a few lines of it to avoid reading too many details ahead of time). I thought I hadn't read far enough into it at first, but I'm on The Duchesse de Langeais now and it's still not even coming close to what it's being described as ?? Lmao I don't mind because I reallyyyy like Balzac's writing. Even the seemingly out of place passages that people complain about are easy to get lost in. [[[[Btw people complain about those booktok users (I don't have tiktok, this is coming just from screenshots and posts I saw on twitter) for skipping wordy paragraphs, but you'll find the same type of person on Goodreads, shamelessly admitting they hate reading unless Something is Happening. Just out in the open, in their review, on the book reading platform. ]]]]

[nickgerlich]

Pushing The Needle

You can’t blame a company for trying, for pushing the needle not just a little bit, but so much that it raises eyebrows. After all, these are the innovators among us, but we typically only assign that word when they have pushed that needle and been successful in finding a new way to do something. If they fail…well, it becomes fodder for business school class discussions.

Like today, since Amazon just pulled the plug on its Just Walk Out program that is available in some of its Amazon Fresh grocery stores. And to be on the safe side, I made sure my source material was not published two days ago on April Fools Day. In other words, this is no whopper. It’s legit news.

The premise behind JWO was that once shoppers entered one of the stores and opened an app, they could grab whatever they wanted, and simply walk out. Amazon relied on sensors and cameras to keep tabs on things, and inherently put a lot of trust in its shoppers, no doubt much more trust than the kind offered by Target, Walmart, and others with self-check kiosks.

But what was not apparent all along is the fact that Amazon relied on crews of video surveillance employees in India, who were in fact watching everything that shoppers did, and making sure the running tab was accurate. Even then, it would sometimes take hours of review before a final receipt could be issued, and charges placed on the customer’s credit card.

According to one report, one that Amazon denies, 700 out of 1000 transactions required review.

JWO launched in 2016, which now seems like eons ago. As for Amazon Fresh, of which there are only 40 stores in the chain, it debuted in 2007. About half of the Fresh stores have JWO technology. Instead, Amazon is rolling out—literally and metaphorically—Dash Carts, which allow for shoppers to scan and check out directly from their trolley. It is unclear how airport and stadium shops that have third-party vendors who license JWO technology will have to adapt, if at all.

The whole idea of JWO was to eliminate a layer of overhead by cutting out labor. It’s just that they moved it to India, where apparently labor costs are so cheap that, even after installing all of the in-store equipment and paying those human reviewers, it was still less than just having cashiers here in the States. I can’t imagine the new shopping carts costing much less, but here we are.

It’s easy to bash Amazon for ditching JWO, but the bottom line is this: They use their Fresh stores as a laboratory for retail operations, and if something works, they will likely deploy it elsewhere, like in their much larger Whole Foods chain. If it doesn’t work, then they kill it, and with JWO in only about 20 stores, it is a much less costly misstep than launching it on a much larger scale.

I understand all retailers’ desire to reduce labor costs, but the idea that someone half a world away from me is watching my every move is more than just a little creepy. It sounds Orwellian in application, and even though it’s not the government eavesdropping from a corner-mounted camera, it’s easily just as weird, and maybe even more so.

Stores have long relied on two-way mirrors for observing shoppers, because “shrink” as shoplifting is called has always been a problem. Many other stores also use security cameras to do likewise, meaning there are humans in a control room with their eyes glued to grainy black-and-white screens. But monitoring at what likely amounted to one-on-one surveillance is a harder pill to swallow.

Amazon’s new shopping carts still mean there is an element of trust involved, because the system still depends on shoppers manually scanning and checking out. It is little different from other scan-and-go systems in place, like at Costco and Sam’s Club. There is no perfect alternative, including the traditional check-out with a human cashier.

In Amazon’s quest to shape the future, the company, and by extension, all of us, now know how it won’t look. Like I said, you can’t blame a company for trying. But all the cameras and sensors in the world can’t guarantee that an idea will work. The needle broke on this one.

Dr “What’s In Your Cart?” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[fieldnoting]

01.04.24 in front of a giant monitor that isn't mine, playing decluttering & mealprep youtube videos

today i wore a puffer jacket that is slightly too big for me and have been using my old intern backpack, and i felt like 2019/early 2020 me of several lifetimes ago, the me that i was when i first moved to the city, and it feels like it's changing my brain chemistry -- it takes me back to the version of me that mostly steadily moved through the week with a purpose, though i know now that it was borrowed for the time being.

i also drifted to the museum to work for the day, where i strode around a bit, startling european tourists upon turning corners. afterwards, i set up at the cafe to read through the shortlisted submissions to the creative section, and picked my favorites and maybes, with brief comments. i'm still reading through the food issue of the kenyon review, and i'm happily gutted by how my favorite pieces end up being the essays -- i loved reading about people's experiences with food, the kind of solace it brings them, and in some instances, how it is a site of exacting control. it reminds me of how i said to someone once (or maybe i just tweeted this somewhere) how food felt like one of the first places i could continually practice taking care of myself, could be wholly self-indulgent and self-concerned. [afaik i have not felt like i've had a disordered relationship to eating, just that solo meals are one of my simple pleasures, in the way solo reading time can be too.] while i'm reading, someone sat across from me for a bit with a sketchpad, and we both sat there silently, scratching away at our respective surfaces of paper.

at trader joe's i pick up protein-laden things; a protein smoothie made with chai, almond, coconut; a pack of salmon; frozen bowls of chicken shawarma, vegetarian bulgogi, chicken sausage. i've missed having a grocery shopping routine, missed getting to wander around the aisles, picking specific bites alongside staples for the week. i like to imagine myself in one of those cozy slice of life animes, basking in the whimsy and pleasantness of a routine that brings me so much delight.

there's a whole slew of girls on youtube, asian and not, who film themselves going about their days solo, working on their laptops, mealprepping, decluttering their closets, remaking their apartments, crafting, and it feels like a kind of digital parallel play when i'm trying to get myself to do the thing that they're doing on camera. i've heard several of them, including a distant friend i first met a few years ago, speak into the camera the feeling of loneliness that their 20something existences in their respective cities are permeated with, and i'm reminded of this image on twitter, an illustration juxtaposing solitude and loneliness: one is a dog carrying its own leash with a look of contentment; another is a dog snarling and straining against its leash, tied to a post.

even if both involve being by oneself, one feels at ease in solitude, and trapped by loneliness. and the out-of-illustration mechanics that produce either feeling: perhaps the ability to choose, which means access to steady connection, shared presence and time. i sound like a broken record when i say -- i am so grateful -- but i am so grateful! the last week has been so quiet, and i've spent almost all of my time by myself, with a handful of hangouts with friends, and it has felt so good to recollect myself in a way i only know how when i'm by myself.

oh! and because the city still feels visibly empty, like people have yet to get back from the city, i think it's been some kind of inadvertent placebo guard against fomo -- or, it's a come down from all of the (wonderful) holiday gatherings that were planned around the same time -- or, i'm in a rare moment when i know what my next month or so of classes (!!) & social plans will be (i am wondering if this is what my older friends whose calendars seem much more set's lives are like - plans with longtime friends, set much more deliberately and farther ahead in time hahaha)

amid this afternoon, someone from the arts commission called me to remind me to update my grant application before tomorrow in order to continue on in the consideration process, and i'm both thrilled to know i'm still in the running and can add more information, and daunted -- i want to intellectualize reasons why i'm daunted, but it all chalks up to, i've never done something like this before, and i care very much about it. so i shift from "why am i daunted" to "what youtube videos will i play in the background that somehow appeases whatever part of my brain doesn't want to do this?"

[renata-art]

Making playdoh stuff with Isla.

I’ve been hanging out here at the unit as usual. I’ve been meaning to sketch something but haven’t gotten around to it yet… I definitely will though. I took a walk out the gate and around the other corner today to try and give Tuna a little more exercise. I think Tuna enjoyed a fresh view of things. I really didn’t like reviewing the video to find myself breathing heavily just to walk around the corner but I’m taking it easy on myself and won’t do too much self judging due to my allergy sensitivities. I still sleep and literally dream of people humiliating me and telling me I have nothing compared to their exploits but oh well who cares? I wake up and act like nothing even happened. I find as many ways as I can to ignore the whole trash party in my dreams and go on with real life. Who cares if garbage world took everything in the lucid dream societies? I don’t care anymore. (Tantrum over) I’m trying my best to switch immediately or at least as soon as I can to something positive. I’ve downloaded a couple Audio books from Audible. Allen Watts “Out of Your Mind” and Ekhart Tolle “The Power of Now”. Both books are materials I previously either owned or downloaded off of a streaming service. My adolescent psychologist recommended as many self help books as possible to help me figure some of my day to day dilemmas out. I think it still helps a lot at times when I just need to listen to a calm voice speak. I know I can’t get it all done every single day but I can do my best everyday despite whatever pain I may encounter. Sticking with reality and positivity. Sending everyone peace ( I may not sound peaceful if you scream at me in my dreams without my consent.) Love.

[gemtvusa]

Best Cheap TV Deals in October 2023 Samsung, LG, Sony, Hisense, TCL OLED and QLED

Best Cheap TV Offers for October 2023: Top Discounts from All Retailers In the market for an affordable TV? You're in luck. These days, even larger 55-inch and 65-inch televisions frequently have prices below $499. With over ten years of experience tracking TV offers, I can differentiate between a genuine bargain and a standard discount. As we approach the next big shopping event, I'm here to guide you to the most wallet-friendly TV deals available. At the moment, Amazon is leading the way for budget-conscious TV shoppers, boasting select smart TV deals starting at just $69. This is among the most competitive starting prices for smart TVs we've come across. On the other hand, Best Buy is presenting a range of 4K OLED TVs beginning at $649, featuring standout models like the LG C3, which ranks among the best OLEDs we've reviewed. For those on the hunt for the top TV discounts, we've curated a list of the most compelling offers from popular retailers like Best Buy, Amazon, Walmart, and others. Whether you're targeting a cost-effective 4K TV or the standout television of 2023, here are today's best TV deals to consider. Buy Best Cheap TV Deals in October 2023 OLED and QLED Samsung, LG, Sony, Hisense, TCL

Tips for TV Shopping & Securing the Best Deals

- Prioritize 4K Resolution: Avoid settling for anything less than 4K. It's today's standard, so unless there's a too-good-to-resist deal on a 720p or 1080p TV, aim for 4K. - Opt for "Smart" Features: TVs with "smart" functionalities allow for easy streaming from platforms such as Roku, Hulu, and Prime Video. If you're not keen on a smart TV, simply keep it off the network, disabling its smart capabilities. - Seek Out HDR Compatibility: TVs with HDR offer richer colors and superior contrast. Although there are five HDR formats, primarily look for HDR10, HDR10+, HLG, and Dolby Vision. - Skip Extended Warranties: Most new TVs come with a one-year warranty. Furthermore, many credit card companies offer extra protection for purchases, so extended warranties often aren't necessary. - Be Cautious with Refurbished TVs: Unless there's a huge cost saving, it's best to avoid refurbished TVs. If they come with more wear and tear than expected, you might be responsible for return shipping, which can be costly due to size. - Consider Previous Models: Many 2022 TVs are still available for purchase. Differences between years might be subtle to the average viewer. Opting for a model from the previous year can lead to substantial savings.

The best cheap TVs: 4K and 8K

Top TV Discounts This Week: Featuring Samsung, LG, Amazon, and More We've meticulously scanned the internet to curate the week's most enticing TV offers just for you. This page showcases the crème de la crème of TV deals, filtering out the less attractive promotions, ensuring you get the finest options spanning various sizes and price points—from affordable 43-inch screens to the luxurious OLED and QLED variants. For ease of navigation, we've organized our handpicked TV deals into three distinct segments: the absolute premium TVs, the impressive mid-tier TVs, and the value-packed budget TVs. Within these categories, we offer a diverse range of sizes to cater to various needs. Additionally, our 'Deal Highlight of the Week' spotlights the deal that delivers unparalleled value for your money. With Black Friday around the corner, now is a golden opportunity to snag an attractively priced television. This festive shopping season promises enticing Black Friday TV offers, presenting hefty markdowns on previous-generation sets as well as enticing deals on the latest 2023 models. Whether you're eyeing the finest TV at a steal or seeking a quality TV that's kind on the wallet, we have the perfect deal for you. Dive in and explore the top TV promotions from various online sources.

Toshiba 55-Inch 4K Fire TV Edition: Budget-Friendly with Alexa Integration

Screen Details: - Size: 55 inches - HDMI Ports: 3 - Refresh Rate: 60 Hz - HDR Support: HDR10 - Dimensions (w/o stand): 28.7 x 49.1 x 3.7 inches Pros: - User-friendly Fire TV OS. - Integrated Alexa feature. - Support for HDR. - Affordable price point below $500. Cons: - Prominent ads. - Cluttered app store. - Average image and sound quality. The Toshiba C350 4K Fire TV Edition is Amazon's answer for those looking for a budget-friendly smart TV. Its standout feature? The integration of Amazon’s Prime Video and the ever-efficient Alexa voice controls. Not only does it provide access to Prime Video's vast collection of content, but the built-in Alexa function is as capable as its counterpart in the Amazon Echo. From managing smart home devices to weather forecasts and local restaurant searches, the voice assistant on this TV covers it all. Transitioning from the Westinghouse models of the previous year to Toshiba, this TV has seen several enhancements. These include better display quality, HDR compatibility, and a smoother user interface. However, it does grapple with certain limitations, such as average picture and sound performance. The TV's edge-lit backlighting and basic HDR support highlight a recurring concern with Amazon's TVs: while the Fire TV OS is commendable as a smart TV interface, the actual TV quality needs to independently impress. In our analysis, the C350 showcased a satisfactory viewing experience, with adequate brightness and commendable color reproduction, ensuring viewers can relish the content without compromising too much on quality.

LG C2 Series OLED TV: Top Pick for Television Excellence

Specifications: - Screen Sizes: 42-inch, 48-inch, 55-inch, 65-inch, 77-inch, 83-inch - Resolution: 4K HD - Display Tech: OLED - Smart Features: LG ThinqQ AI, webOS - Curved: No Pricing: - €929 at Alternate DE (OLED variant) - €959 at OTTO DE (42-inch model) - €1,199 at Amazon Highlights: - Brilliant display clarity - User-friendly webOS smart platform - Sleek and slim design - Regularly available at promotional prices Buy LG C2 OLED TV Consideration: Pricier end of the spectrum TechRadar heralds the LG C2 OLED as the pinnacle of TV offerings, and it's not hard to see why. It encapsulates everything a TV aficionado could yearn for. At its heart lies a mesmerizing OLED screen, enhanced by the prowess of LG's cutting-edge a9 Gen5 AI processor. This combination ensures rich contrasts and dazzling brightness levels. Supplementing this is the virtual surround sound, modern smart features, voice commands, and its svelte profile, culminating in an unparalleled home theater experience.

TCL 6-Series with Mini LED: Prime Choice for Mid-Tier Televisions

Specifications: - Screen Sizes: 55-inch, 65-inch, 75-inch - Resolution: 4K HDR - Display Tech: QLED - Smart Features: Roku - Curved: No Key Features: - Enhanced with Mini LED backlighting - Compatible with Dolby Vision - Integrated Roku streaming service - Lacks 4K gaming capability Buy TCL 6-Series The TCL 6-Series Mini LED TV is a standout performer in the mid-range category, packing features you'd typically associate with pricier counterparts. Its QLED screen, enhanced by Quantum Dot technology and Dolby Vision HDR, offers vivid and dynamic colors, recreating realistic visuals. Moreover, the built-in Roku platform coupled with voice control functionality ensures a seamless viewing experience. Whether you're switching to a movie or adjusting volume levels, voice commands make the process effortless.

Hisense U8H Quantum Series: Premier Pick for Affordable TVs

Specifications: - Screen Sizes: 55-inch, 65-inch, 75-inch - Resolution: 4K Ultra HD - Display Tech: QLED - Smart Features: Yes - Curved: No Key Features: - Exceptional price point - Vibrant and rich colors - Voice-activated remote - Sound quality is decent but not standout Buy Hisense U8H Series Emerging as a frontrunner in the budget-friendly TV segment, the Hisense U8H Quantum Series offers a variety of sizes, starting from a compact 55 inches and expanding up to a spacious 75 inches. Its display is a visual treat, boasting radiant colors and crisp contrasts, all credited to the integration of Quantum Dot technology complemented by mini-LED backlighting. Furthermore, its smart features allow for effortless streaming of your go-to movies and series, and the voice-controlled remote enhances the overall user experience.

Roku Plus Series 4K QLED TV: Roku's Stellar Entry into the TV Market

Specifications: - Screen Sizes: 55, 65, 75 inches - Screen Type: QLED - Refresh Rate: 60 Hz - HDMI Ports: 4 (HDMI 2.0) - Dimensions: 33.1 x 57 x 4 inches - Weight: 36.7 pounds Features: - Impressive price-to-performance ratio - Exceptional HDR color rendition - Clear audio quality - Efficient Roku TV user interface - Moderate brightness levels - Standard 60Hz refresh rate - Absence of HDMI 2.1 ports Roku's Plus Series 4K QLED TV marks the brand's remarkable pivot from primarily focusing on streaming software and devices to crafting televisions. For a debut, it’s a compelling one. Starting at a competitive $499, this series not only offers ample screen real estate but also boasts impressive picture and sound quality, features often compromised in budget-friendly models. Aesthetically, the TV exudes a premium feel. It's framed by a slender gray metal bezel, which is especially slim along the top, left, and right edges. The Roku brand gleams with a chrome finish, positioned centrally at the bottom. Empowered by quantum-dot LED technology, the TV produces rich colors and enhanced brightness levels. Our assessment revealed that the TV's performance aligns well with Roku's claims. While the vibrancy of the picture diminishes slightly as one moves away from the central viewing position, it takes a considerable shift for the display to lose its allure. When should you look for a TV deal? Bargain TV offers are consistently available throughout the year at major retail outlets. Whether it's Best Buy, Amazon, or Walmart, every week offers a chance to secure a good deal. However, during certain seasonal sales events, these retailers tend to slash prices even more. Noteworthy times include Black Friday in November and Prime Day during the summer. Interestingly, last year didn't just see discounts on older models; even the latest releases had their prices marked down. And now, with Super Bowl TV sales on the horizon, it's anticipated that a wave of fresh deals will emerge soon. Stay updated on current TV offers right here. When to buy the perfect TV deal? Throughout the year, top retailers like Best Buy, Amazon, and Walmart consistently offer TV deals. So, irrespective of the season, you're likely to find a discounted TV that fits your budget. Nevertheless, the steepest discounts often coincide with major sales events. For instance, Black Friday in November and Prime Day in summer are renowned for offering exceptional TV deals. It's worth noting that these discounts aren't limited to older TV models; recent releases also see significant markdowns. As the Super Bowl TV sales approach, we're gearing up for an array of exciting offers soon. For the latest TV promotions, keep an eye on this space. OLED vs. QLED: Which Display Reigns Supreme? When contemplating a mid-tier or luxury TV purchase, the choice often boils down to two dominant display technologies: OLED and QLED. Each offers unique benefits and drawbacks, but for those who prioritize unparalleled image quality, OLED often emerges as the top pick. OLED TVs are renowned for their self-emissive screens, allowing individual pixels to autonomously dim or brighten. This results in an unmatched contrast ratio, positioning OLEDs as the go-to choice for those seeking the pinnacle of viewing experiences, especially in dimly lit settings like home theaters. A noted concern with OLEDs, however, is their susceptibility to image retention or even burn-in. Fortunately, contemporary models incorporate enhanced software and hardware mechanisms to mitigate this risk. Best practices, such as avoiding prolonged display of static elements (e.g., gaming HUDs or news tickers), can further reduce the chances of burn-in. Conversely, QLED TVs employ the more traditional LCD panel approach, utilizing a backlight to project images. While these backlights can be sectioned into zones for targeted dimming, even the most advanced QLEDs can't rival the individual pixel contrast achievable with OLEDs. This occasionally results in imperfect dark scenes, manifesting as either glaring halos around luminous objects or graying of deep blacks. QLED's forte lies in its superior brightness levels. Premium QLED TVs tend to outshine most OLEDs, making them a preferable choice for well-lit environments. Their capacity to produce striking HDR highlights, especially for intensely bright scenes, is noteworthy. Additionally, QLEDs usually come with a more palatable price tag compared to OLEDs and eliminate any concerns regarding burn-in.

Selecting the Perfect TV: A Comprehensive Guide

Navigating the expansive world of TVs can be daunting, given the plethora of choices across sizes, brands, and display technologies. Moreover, price points oscillate significantly based on the features in question. At the most affordable end of the spectrum, small HDTVs are available from around $100, often with resolutions limited to 720p or 1080p. A respectable 4K TV might set you back between $300 and $500, contingent on its dimensions. Understandably, every additional expenditure usually equates to a boost in quality. Venturing into premium territory, top-tier 4K TVs with expansive screens can command prices ranging from $1,200 to $1,500 and beyond. Embarking on your TV-purchasing journey, it's prudent to define your budget, which will likely correlate with your desired screen size. Aim for a size that facilitates easy viewing from multiple angles without necessitating significant head movements. Consider the importance of top-tier image quality in your decision-making process. For those seeking unparalleled visual splendor, a 4K TV featuring an OLED or QLED panel is ideal. Technologies such as local dimming and quantum dots enhance color vibrancy and contrast, culminating in a mesmerizing HDR display. Gaming enthusiasts should prioritize TVs with 120Hz and variable refresh rate capabilities to leverage the full potential of next-gen consoles like the Xbox Series X and PlayStation 5. Meanwhile, cinephiles should keep an eye out for Dolby Vision and Dolby Atmos integration to replicate a cinematic ambiance. Conversely, if your intent is to acquire a straightforward smart TV for casual viewing, a conventional LED screen might suffice. While the visual fidelity might not rival premium counterparts, numerous affordable 4K TVs offer commendable performance, encapsulating features like 4K resolution, HDR, and an extensive app ecosystem. Read the full article

[clovemerablog]

Monaleo album review: ‘Where The Flowers Don’t Die”

Album published by Stomp Down

Review by Clove Mera, 30 May 2023

I approached Monaleo’s album as a fan drawn to her confident but authentic lyrics and charmingly wide smile, hoping she would be able to surprise me. Across a few of her singles, Monaleo appears to have only one flow. Combining the candid venting on single “Ridgemont Baby” with the title of this album and hazy album art depicting Monaleo as a rose growing out of the pavement, I had faith in her ability to deliver.

“Ass Kickin” and “Wig Splitter” are two confrontational rap tracks. The latter had a catchy hook but both felt like more of the same Monaleo I’ve come to expect. The beat and flow on the latter bored me.

This is why bars on aforementioned “Ridgemont Baby” are needed. Learning about “Me and Keke running from the laws, that’s a true story/ You bitches grew up with family dogs in a two-story” help me understand Monaleo’s struggle and relate to her on a human level.

Authenticity is provably Monaleo’s language and she speaks it across whatever genre she deems applicable. Bookending the album is two ballads, “Sober Mind” and “Cosmic Love”, about protecting one’s mental peace and moving on albeit with spite.

Both tracks showcase Monaleo’s strong vocal abilities, indicating a fluidity that could help her venture further into the mainstream. Such conjures memories of early days Nicki Minaj, outspoken about being a rapper who sings (uncommon at the time). Imagining such as Monaleo’s trajectory renders the album art an apt representation of where she stands today.

Monaleo’s desire to traverse genre is already spotlighted within the album. Such is her true surprise for me. “Return Of The P” and “Goddess (Feat. Flo Milli)” are both self-love rap tracks, top candidates for dominating the internet. Sharp edged bars like “You let a dirty dog off the leash, expect him to roam/ I’m trynna see what goes through n**** heads cause it can’t be a comb” and “‘Cause I ain’t ever known a n**** to make shit but a bad bitch crazy/…Tell a man you wanted a rose, he come with a daisy.” will empower anyone miffed by a man.

Meanwhile, double track “Sauvage (Interlude)” and “Cologne Song” are a confounding R&B package I can’t discern as sincerely flirtatious or a tongue-in-cheek sendup. Even I can be stopped dead in my tracks by a man’s scent, but do lyrics like “What kind of cologne are you wearing/ I could smell it on the way home/…Smells so good that I’m writing this song” ring true? Not enough to sing about.

Monaleo has not cornered herself into any niche and being so young, she still has the world at her fingertips. “Where The Flowers Don’t Die” is a sampler of the 22-year-old’s appetites and although it hosts some skips, it’s also home to a few bops. Her lyrical material is guaranteed to enamour people around the world and I look forward to watching her hone in on her sound and flourish like the rose she is.

You can stream or buy Monaleo’s “Where The Flowers Don’t Die” today.

Watch the music video for “Ass Kickin” now.

[softcaesar]

WE SHOULDN'T — NANAMI KENTO part one

context: your friend invites you over to work on your marine report. you end up staying past the curfew. he offers his bed for you to sleep… basically the good ol' bed sharing trope

pairing : nanami kento x f!reader

content and warnings: SMUT IN PART TWO, no curses, college au, nanami is a marine bio student

“I’ll be there in five?” you say, yawning.

“Just hurry up. We’ve got a lot to do.”

Five minutes later, you reach the front of Kento's dorm which buzzed with the comings and goings of its residents. You spot a tall figure standing next to the doors waiting for you. It’s him. You notice he’s wearing a navy fleece jacket and his usual tan slacks. Kento acknowledges you with a quick nod before retreating into building, signaling you to follow him inside.

“I reviewed the analysis you wrote,” he began, monotonously, “Still needs to be fixed. Your abstract, however, is written well. Very articulate.”

“Thanks,” you replied, glancing around. It stroked you as a bit strange how he complimented you. Before, he had never stated his opinions on your work, whether negative or positive, only ever dismissing you with a nod or a ‘mhmm’. On good days, he would thank you but today, something was fishy. You’d have thought he’d be sterner and blunter throughout the duration of the assignment, if not completely uninvolved. However, it was quite the opposite.

As you turn the corner, you realise that his dorm hall was much louder and livelier than the relative stillness of your apartment building; students congregated in groups studying or working on projects, while others played cards and video games in the lounge. You saw a few girls doubletake towards your direction and soon hushed voices spoke among the students.

"Look! It's Nanami!"

"Who is that with him?"

"Nanami!"

Kento led you upstairs to the second floor and down the hallway.

"You have a lot of fans." You joked. He ignored you.

“Where do you live.” His question sounded more like a statement.

“… the tool shed.” you whisper.

He pauses, raising a curious brow, “What?”

“Its called the tool shed coz apparently that’s where all the hoes live,” you answer and he immediately walks away. You jog up to him.

“I’m not a hoe,” you exhale and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“I’m sure you’re not.”

“It’s quieter over there.”

“Mmm,” he says, quickly looking back at you. “Must be nice."

“Yep,” you nod, “There’ll be vacancies around November. I can inquire if you’d like.”

“Don’t bother.” He states. His room is at the end of the hallway. He unlocks the door and pushes it open. There’s a small shared space, comprised of a slightly cluttered kitchenette and a bathroom. Two large doors indicate the two bedrooms of the dorm room; one for Kento, and one presumably for a roommate.

“You live with someone?”

“He’s visiting his parents for the week. This is my room,” he says, pushing open the door to the right.

Kento's dorm room was different than you’d expected. It was a spacious layout that he adorned with evidence of his interests. A number of fish figures, some made of Lego, were displayed on a shelf against the wall, along with various textbooks, one of which was open on a small table, dog tagged on the edges and plastered with yellow sticky notes.

“Which class is that for?” you pointed at the open textbook.

“Chem.”

He turns to the side, pushing his glasses further up his nose bridge, shielding his eyes away from you.

You keep looking around. Kento's desk was clearly a science student’s desk, inundated with marine textbooks and piles of booklets and manila folders, and all sorts of student clutter, from ball point pens to scrunched balls of paper to flashcards. The white concrete walls were relatively unadulterated, save for the framed pictures of his family and friends, and a corkboard above his desk tacked with academic pamphlets, flyers and a calendar. Everything in Kento's room looked as if it had its own designated spot. And the twin-sized bed was neatly made with a navy-blue comforter, which beckoned to you like an oasis in a desert. You noticed a small aquarium beside his dresser.

“I’ve printed a copy but if you’d prefer to edit digitally, I can email you the updated version.” Kento breaks the silence. You say you would prefer the latter, having brought your laptop and forgetting your pencil case. He took off his fleece jacket, revealing a white t-shirt underneath that hugged the frame of his body perfectly, and took off his shoes. You follow his lead and do the same, trying but failing to suppress a yawn. Kento noticed and sighed.

“Let’s finish this quickly so you can go home,” he says. It’s all the permission you need to start, and you groan in gratitude as you sink down onto the fluffy grey rug, shifting forward to put your legs under the kotatsu. His room seemed to have an effect on you. It felt homely and comfortable, reminding you of your own room back at your dorm.

“Oh, that’s right. I was looking at the report before I came and we forgot to update the formula table,” you say with another yawn. Kento took out his laptop and settled at his desk, immediately typing, while you waited for your laptop to load and made yourself comfy. It was the first chance you’ve gotten all day to sit down and relax, and it felt great. Damn that 8am workshop. Exhaustion threatened to overcome you, but you had to finish this. Soon, you and Kento sink into a comfortable silence with the occasional question, typing intensely on your keyboards, brows knit together. Other than that, no small talk existed. Two hours pass by and you stood up to stretch, walking towards Kento to see what he was up to. He stopped writing on his notepad when your shadow creeped over his paper. He turned around slowly.

“What are you doing?”

He huffs, brown eyes illuminated by his open computer screen. “Writing tomorrow’s agenda.” He looks up and draws his eyes to yours. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve completed the formula tables and edited the evaluation,” you stretch as you look at your watch which displayed a dim 21:53, “Damn, its late. Alright, I’ll get going. Text me if there’s a problem.”

Kento sighs deeply. “Thank you for coming.”

“No problem. Sorry if I didn’t do too much today, I was up at 5 this morning and I've only had one coffee. I’ll swing by again this week.”

He observes your tired face. There were dark circles around your slightly red eyes. Your skin was dull and your lips were slightly cracked. Before he could contain his sympathy, he opened his mouth, “Stay the night.”

Your face stills in confusion. “Huh.”

“Stay the night.” Kento stood up from his chair, heading over to peer out the window. “It’s dangerous for you to go back alone.”

“What...? Walk me home then,” you quipped. “Plus, if I stayed the night, where would I sleep? No offense Kento, but if you want me to share a bed with you, you'd have to buy me dinner first.”

You snicker as the tall man purses his lips. “I can’t buy you dinner right now but there’s some instant ramen in the cupboard if you’re hungry.”

“Oh my God!” You groan, beginning to stuff your laptop into your bag. Your cheeks feeling tight. “I was just kidding. I’ll just run super-fast. If you’re so worried, watch me from your window and save me if something happens.”

He walks closer and sits at the edge of his bed next to your kneeled body. “(name), just stay,” he demands. The way he says your name makes your stupid heart do stupid cartwheels. “The curfew began an hour ago and you can’t go about wandering. Sleep on my bed.”

“No, Kento. It’s your bed. I can’t ta–”

“Sleep in the hallway then.”

Bruh.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Look, I’m tired but not to the point where I’m about to collapse from exhaustion. Besides, I made coffee earlier. I can make it through the night. Take the bed.”

Still, it felt wrong to sleep on his bed.

He was reliable, trustworthy and knew what he wanted in life. Bonus, he was good looking. You saw the effect he had over the girls in the hallway earlier. There was no doubt he had a girlfriend. You were sure about it. You did feel slightly disheartened at the thought though as you had tried to flirt with him earlier this year but he had openly rebuked you and told you to stop. It was embarrassing to think about it. Your relationship with him was strictly platonic with a capital ‘P’. Friends offer their beds to their friends all the time right?

You were still unsure, really not wanting to spend the night in his room... with him. Alone. Anything could happen.

“I really can’t Kento, I’ll just go home. You probably have a girlfrie–”

“I don’t have a girlfriend, (name), just sleep,” he stood up and sat at his desk again, resuming his scribbling on his notepad.

You stand awkwardly, tugging at the strings of your hoodie. Great, you had been everywhere wearing these clothes all day. The lecture halls, the library, the café. You stared longingly at his clean bed, not a crinkle in sight. You didn't want to tarnish his spotless sheets with your gross clothes. You smelled stinky too. You silently hoped he'd have spare pajamas laying around...

“You can wear the pajamas from the bottom drawer. Return it in the morning. Don’t worry about washing it. Use the bathroom to clean up.”

It was as if he read your mind. Muttering a quick ‘thanks’, you rushed into the bathroom and washed up, changing into the clean clothes. When you return to Kento's room, the main lights were off. The nightlight beside his bed and the desk lamp were on, emitting a warm dimming effect. His eyes were looking at you. They searched your face before trailing down and up the rest of your body, a small smile on his lips. A pleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“Good night (name).” he says lowly.

“Good night,” you say back, “Wake me up if you need to sleep.”

Silence is your response. You almost let out a moan as you sink into his soft mattress. Warmth envelopes you and you knew that you were sleeping good tonight. You stare at his ceiling, thinking back to his small compliment earlier, to the sneaky glances you had sent his peaceful figure. To the strange offer to use his spare clothes for the night. To the furtive glances at you in his pajamas.

“Hey,” you whisper, “I can’t tell if you’re being really sweet to me intentionally, or if you’re really just a gentleman.”

“Intentionally?”

“You know… if you have some sort of ulterior motive or something.”

His eyes glimmer. “It’d be pretty hard not to be sweet to you.”

The tension. It’s back. Kento's brown eyes don’t release you, but you’re a willing captive. Nothing could break this moment…

Nothing but a big, fat, horrendously-timed yawn.

He sighs again, you turn away, embarrassed.

“For fuck’s safe, (name), just sleep,” he exhales.

“You should too.”

“I have homework. Do you want some water?”

“No thanks,” you say, but he had already opened the mini fridge by his desk and tossed a cold bottle at your direction.

He returned to his seat. You smile in appreciation and take a sip. “Now, sleep. Goodnight.”

“You look pretty beat yourself. Are you sure you don’t want…”

He shakes his head. “I wish, but I have a lot to do. Besides, you’re using the bed.”

“Right.” What were you even thinking?

“Sleep well,” he says, settling down again at his desk. You re-adjust his pillows. Except, for whatever reason, your brain finds the back of Kento's head too intriguing. So, you roll onto your other side, facing the wall, shut your eyes, and let your exhaustion overtake you.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job Post 283: Late Night TV, p2

I…hadn’t seen TV for a while. I just plain old hadn’t had one since Sheryl had kicked me out, since I’d moved into this tiny little upper-floor studio over the office. Even before that, though, I was never a big television watcher. I’d generally rather entertain myself with a book, a movie…or these days perving over pictures of Melissa. But earlier today I’d come home after work to find that Marisela had set up a big-screen TV in my apartment for me, perched precariously on a stand, sitting atop an old dresser in the corner. She’d hooked me up with a bunch of streaming services and channels, and connected it all somehow to a plain little black box and an old-timey looking remote with what were certainly not English command symbols. Cool, I guess…it looked sorta fishy but there’d be no bill or fee or whatever, she told me, and therefore I didn’t ask too many questions. Pirated? Probably. But I couldn’t afford subscriptions, let alone the 72” flat screen that now dominated my apartment and at which I now stared from my threadbare couch at 2am. 

TV was weird, these days. I watched the network news for a while, earlier. Everyone was talking about these three missing teens, disappeared since Trick-or-Treating on Halloween night.  They suspected foul play from the kid who was with them, the one with the crazy story about witches with tentacles. In fact I’d seen an interview with Sheila Frances, the new medical director at Riverview Hospital, the place from which I’d recently had my privileges suspended and where the boy was currently being held for observation. “We expect the toxicology reports to come back positive,” she’d said to the interviewer, a busty brunette, “but in the meantime the policewomen are still with him.”

I found it funny how she made a point to say ‘policewomen’. That when talking about the investigators, or the team of docs working with the kid, she referred to them all as ‘she’ or ‘her’. I found it unusual that the interviewer, the news anchors, the sports reporter, and the weather person for this local news squad…they were all women. Most of the actors on the ads, the main leads on the majority of the shows I flipped through: all female faces. Young and attractive, lots of times shapely. Had this trend, this fixation for the tall and buxom, already changed TV’s landscape like this? Or was I just imagining things? I mean, I wasn’t complaining. I mean…wow. Look at the knockers on her…this new sitcom about life on Mars? Apparently NASA has new standards for its astronauts haha. Or the girls on this 24-7 reality TV show? “Celebrity House of Trouble”? Wait…did I recognize that one?

Yikes, 2am. I'd been straight-up channel surfing for hours, now bleary eyed and exhausted but unable to look away, sitting in the dark, bathed by the ghostly, flickering light of the screen. I chalked it up to its newness, made my excuses that I was just checking out what sort of stuff Marisela had hooked up for me, told myself I could sleep in tomorrow. But I was basically like a zombie - click, click, clicking through the channels I’d been given. Networks and streaming services: some I knew, many I didn’t recognize. Cooking channels, travel channels, sports channels. Weird stuff, on the outskirts. Foreign languages, broadcasts from overseas. Special interest channels like…dog grooming. A ‘Men’s Network’…what’s this, now?

It was labeled as ‘Men’s Special Interest Television’ on the guide, and by the looks of it was a pretty new addition to the channel lineup, deep in the high channel numbers, broadcasting only late at night. But…wow. It caught my attention. Jesus - the host for whatever sort of show they were playing, something about video games, could be a porn star with hipster glasses. I actually watched it for a bit, raptly absorbing their review of some new entry that involved, holy shit, look at the jugs on that enormous vampire lady. She’s huge…

The segment was over, and suddenly now it was a cooking show. “Dani in the Kitchen”, whose bosomy, MILF-y chef coo’d at the camera like she was talking to a little lost child. Christ almighty Dani can make dinner for me any time. Now it switched to a sports report, now coverage of women’s bodybuilding, now just straight-up tits on the beach. Camera shots lasted moments, scenes and programming changed quickly. Whatever this channel was, it obviously pegged its audience as having attention spans measured in moments and IQs in the double-digits…and I couldn’t look away. 

Even the ads…lord, especially the ads…were filled with content playing into man’s basic instincts to just flat-out stare and lay docile when shown the right curves, the proper swells and smiles. Cleavage and soft-core and busty political candidates pitching themselves before the election bulged from my screen and I caught myself with my mouth agog, even at the political ads. Had I been watching this channel for more than two hours already? I don’t remember much, now, as I was eventually drifting in and out of sleep, but could still probably recite word-for-word that voice-over from the self-promoting station-identification piece that played in nearly every commercial break, layered over imagery that seemed custom crafted for someone like me…

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Thanks to Ray Ridley, a new contributor, for her voice work on the MSIT promo audio, and AgeOfTheGiantess for lots of inspiration on this entry. 

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