#but also i know what actually happened to jfk

[dflogerzi]

It has taken me an entire night and the next morning to gather my thoughts. I think most of the world is doing just that as well. And who we are will be shown in how we now walk forward as people and as individuals.

I was a very little girl just in school when JFK was shot. I remember the day clearly even though I was very young. They dismissed us and sent us home, which looking back would never have happened in these times. I was far too little to be walking home the three or four blocks in the middle of the day, with no parent waiting.

I also remember when Reagan was shot. Clearly. Many people have not connected the family that was involved... and whom they were close friends with. I do not speak of it much any longer, I have learned that it does not serve anyone to do so. For in these days people firmly believe what they do, no reason to banter on. But I am going to say this... The very same people who saw out Kennedy almost did the same with Ronald Reagan. And I do not care a bit who believes me or not.

I had in the past few years bowed out of my own searches, journeying, and going down rabbit holes in an attempt to find quiet spaces for my days. I suppose I had decided to succumb to what I see as the inevitable. I saw no way out. I grew up around diversity, I played with children of all colors growing up, and I served in a military that even in the 1980's had every type of person in every single shade you could imagine. I was ahead of my time I suppose. So seeing all sides of the coin was always easy for me. And I have always straddled the middle ground.

What each of us should be asking ourselves today is this... What are my goals? My personal goals for myself, my children, and my grandchildren? How do I want to see my neighborhood? My library? My places to walk, explore, use as recreation, and take pause in? The preservation of art, history, and relics from the past? What is of the most importance?

Anyone who is not seeing where the world is being led to is not truly observing without the severe propaganda that has been purposely thrust upon the masses. It was legalized more than a decade ago in the United States, and it has been a major success in it's efforts. Mankind is losing, and in my opinion, on purpose. And we are even being openly told so. It is not being hidden. I think it is part of the NWO belief system actually... that we are told outright and we accept it. Or never listen. Like the sheep we are often likened to be.

So another attempt was made to end a life yesterday due to politics. And instead of a country who goes to the polls, in real and valid elections where EVERYONE casts one vote, legally and lawfully, a different future was instead being thrust upon a nation as an attempt. I would have far less worry about entering into a socialist and global state if I felt it was a REAL and lawful vote from every citizen of the country I belong to. I do not believe our elections are safe. And I believe they have not been universally in a long, long while.

We are not just looking at the character of our leaders... but we are looking at the character of each one of us. I am so grateful today that I am on the other side of my life span. And I am so sorry for our grandchildren who may never know some of the beauty of this world. It has been heart breaking to watch the decline of our civilizations.

So much evil. And I will submit from the cheap seats, up in the peanut gallery, that the very same people attempted to take a life yesterday as they have before. Some still alive as accomplices...

This is not about political parties. Anyone who believes that is sleeping far better than I am. This is about humanity. And integrity. And love for our world.

Okay. I suppose I will post this. And then onward with the day. Which is all each of us actually have. Seize it. As I am going to. Love to my friends here.

[agent-calivide]

Okay. I've been thinking about this for a while but it could still be incoherent.

So in IEYTD 3, there are some agency announcement transmissions after you beat a level. If I remember correctly, there was one after Hot Water which mentions Southern Philippines (along with other countries). (I, unfortunately, do not have access to the game but have watched gameplays.)

I have a few theories into why that (the agency doesn't have EOD agents in the Northern part of the Philippines) is (I can go on about that but it's likely it won't be historically accurate but let's just say the 50s were pretty wild and I have several agency headcanons if my suspicions are true.) and I was wondering if you have any more insights on possible points the games diverge from our timeline.

oh the can of worms this opens- /lh

So, this is all in the wonderful world of messing around with speculation, but for possible points of timeline divergence we first have to take into account the actual year IEYTD takes place, that being 1967. In addition, we need to look at the political systems in place, which is where this gets... funky.

See, in IEYTD 2 it is established that there are 4 world leaders:

Chancellor Magpantay, head of the Pacific League (Asia and Australia).

PM Markopoulos, head of the Mediterranean Commonwealth (Asia, Europe, and Africa)

President Okafor, head of the South Atlantic Union (Africa and South America)

Premier Sucre, head of the Hudson Federation (North America)

All of these positions are either elected or appointed by either the general public, or the country's parliament/whatever political system they have in place. So it's not like a monarchy where any of these people were born into these positions.

But, all that being said, these are not countries, but they're not continents either, they're some unique additional territory. We know this due to a detail where Juniper's jet took off from the JFK airport.

Why does this matter? Because the JFK airport was named after John F Kennedy after his assassination as the president of the United States. This means that all of the countries as we know them still exist, and this is also confirmed by the map in Juniper's jet and that radio broadcast that you reference. The long list of differing countries make it evident that the systems in place are one more level of authority on top of the heads of countries.

The reason I go into all of this is because a lot of "timeline divergence" things are tied deeply to politics, spies are innately political after all. Borders, international boundaries, treaties, all of this is what leads to the divvying up of the world like this.

So the question is no longer "why is the world laid out like this" it is now "why would all of these countries agree to this system/get pushed into this system when they were already established as individual powers?"

If I had to guess, the split would be around WWI/WWII, specifically either the foundation of NATO or something similar happening right after WWI, the results are the same either way.

Either after The Great War, which was the first war to take over the entire planet, or after WWII which took place so close after the first one, there was an international agreement that something needed to change to keep this sort of incident from occurring ever again.

So, rather than having dozens of people arguing over treaties, the political powers at be decided to simplify it to four people, four territories.

Now, meta wise, this is because kidnapping 4 people is a lot easier to depict than 40+, but there still are ramifications on the rest of the world building due to it. This may even impact how countries interact with each other normally.

Handler affectionately jokes about "the alien we met with the Russians!" Regardless if he is supposed to be English or US American like the devs, there is no undertone of space race, international conflict, or anything similar despite this occurring in the late 60's right when the space race would be happening between the US and Russia. Just delight over this thing that happened with those chums from Russia!

And it makes sense for individual countries to not be at each other's throats. Everyone is a bit too worried about what Zoraxis is doing at that point, the Mediterranean Commonwealth's representative saying he doesn't trust Zoraxis and the South Atlantic Union having a strong isolationist stance at the moment. There is no word of the territories fighting, just that they don't trust anyone at this moment.

And this why a system like this would be in place, it would make discussions of conflict easier, as it would be discussion between four people and their teams rather than dozens or even hundreds of conflicting sides. There likely would still be internal conflicts within the territories, but picking a fight with another territory wouldn't be possible.

The US can't pick a fight with Russia, they're part of the Mediterranean Commonwealth and the US is in the Hudson Federation. That would be like Texas bombing California or attacking Canada, they just don't have the jurisdiction for that.

This would explain why the politics in place are so different, as well as why real world politics are never brought up and don't have a tangible impact on these games. The EOD is dealing with Zoraxis rather than representing a specific country because the way the countries have conflicts is fundamentally different.

TL;DR

The way there are only 4 political leaders makes everything super funky in terms of international conflict that is fundamentally different from how we experience it irl

[deadpresidents]

Waking Up In Dallas: November 22, 1963.

Two American Presidents woke up in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963. Neither of them were the two men who actually served as President on that tragic day -- John F. Kennedy or Lyndon B. Johnson.

The 37th President of the United States, 50-year-old Richard Nixon, had arrived in Dallas on November 20th for a conference of the American Bottlers of Carbonated Beverages on behalf of Pepsi-Cola, a company that his New York law firm was representing.  On November 21st, Nixon sat down with reporters in his room at the Baker Hotel, where he criticized many of the policies of President Kennedy, his 1960 opponent, who would be arriving in Dallas the next day.  That night, Nixon and Pepsi executives including actress Joan Crawford, who had been married to Pepsi's chairman, Alfred Steele, until his death in 1959, were entertained at the Statler Hilton.

In the early morning of November 22nd, a car dropped Nixon off, alone, at Love Field, the Dallas airport that would host President and Mrs. Kennedy, Vice President Johnson and Mrs. Johnson, and Texas Governor John Connally and his wife in just a few hours.  Nixon later remembered the flags and signs displayed along the motorcade route that Kennedy would soon follow.  Nixon approached the American Airlines ticket counter to check-in for his flight to New York City and told the attendant, "It looks like you're going to have a big day today."

Nixon landed several hours later in New York at an airport that would be renamed after John F. Kennedy a month later.  He described what happened next in his 1978 autobiography, RN: The Memoirs of Richard Nixon:

Arriving in New York, I hailed a cab home.  We drove through Queens toward the 59th Street Bridge, and as we stopped at a traffic light, a man rushed over from the curb and started talking to the driver.  I heard him say, "Do you have a radio in your cab?  I just heard that Kennedy was shot."  We had no radio, and as we continued into Manhattan a hundred thoughts rushed through my mind.  The man could have been crazy or a macabre prankster.  He could have been mistaken about what he had heard; or perhaps a gunman might have shot at Kennedy but missed or only wounded him.  I refused to believe that he could have been killed. As the cab drew up in front of my building, the doorman ran out.  Tears were streaming down his cheeks.  "Oh, Mr. Nixon, have you heard, sir?" he asked.  "It's just terrible.  They've killed President Kennedy."

The close 1960 Presidential election changed the relationship between Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy, but they had once been very close.  When they first entered Congress together in 1947, they considered each other personal friends, and when Nixon ran for the Senate from California in 1950, JFK stopped into Nixon's office and dropped off a financial contribution to Nixon's campaign from Kennedy's father.  Nixon would later write that he felt as bad on the night of Kennedy's assassination as he had when he lost two brothers to tuberculosis when he was very young.  That night, he wrote an emotional letter to Jacqueline Kennedy:

Dear Jackie, In this tragic hour Pat and I want you to know that our thoughts and prayers are with you. While the hand of fate made Jack and me political opponents I always cherished the fact that we were personal friends from the time we came to the Congress together in 1947.  That friendship evidenced itself in many ways including the invitation we received to attend your wedding. Nothing I could say now could add to the splendid tributes which have come from throughout the world to him. But I want you to know that the nation will also be forever grateful for your service as First Lady.  You brought to the White House charm, beauty and elegance as the official hostess of America, and the mystique of the young in heart which was uniquely yours made an indelible impression on the American consciousness. If in the days ahead we could be helpful in any way we shall be honored to be at your command. Sincerely, Dick Nixon 

••• On the morning of November 22, 1963, the 41st President of the United States also woke up in Dallas, Texas.  George Herbert Walker Bush was the 39-year-old president of the Zapata Off-Shore Drilling Company and chairman of the Harris County, Texas Republican Party, and had stayed the night of November 21st at the Dallas Sheraton alongside his wife, Barbara.  Bush was planning a bid for the U.S. Senate in 1964 and making the rounds to line up support amongst many Texans who considered him far too moderate.  One of the groups that was strongest in opposition to Bush was the ultra-right wing John Birch Society, which had recently been lodging vehement protests against President Kennedy's upcoming visit to Dallas.

Conspiracy theorists claim that there were far more sinister motives for George Bush being in Dallas on November 22, 1963.  Some claim that Bush was a secret CIA operative involved in planning or even carrying out the assassination of President Kennedy.  Some even argue that a grainy photograph of a man resembling Bush taken shortly after the assassination proves that Bush was actually in Dealey Plaza at the time of Kennedy's shooting.

He wasn't.  He wasn't even in Dallas.  We know where George Herbert Walker Bush was at the time of JFK's assassination -- we have plenty of eyewitnesses who can confirm it.  While Lee Harvey Oswald was shooting President Kennedy, George Bush was about 100 miles away from Dallas, in Tyler, Texas, speaking at a Kiwanis Club luncheon.  Like Nixon, Bush and his wife, Barbara, had also boarded a plane that morning in Dallas -- a private plane that transported them to Tyler for the Kiwanis Club event.  While Bush was speaking, word of the President's assassination reached the luncheon and the local club president, Wendell Cherry, leaned over and gave the news to Bush.  Bush quickly notified the crowd, and said, "In view of the President's death, I consider it inappropriate to continue with a political speech at this time."  He ended his speech and sat down while the luncheon broke up in stunned silence. 

Bush's wife, Barbara, wasn't at the Kiwanis Club luncheon.  While her husband was speaking, Barbara Bush went to a beauty parlor in Tyler to get her hair styled.  As her hair was being done, Barbara began writing a letter to family and heard the news over the radio that JFK had been shot and then that the President had died.  In her 1994 memoir, Barbara included the letter, part of which said:

I am writing this at the Beauty Parlor, and the radio says that the President has been shot.  Oh Texas -- my Texas -- my God -- let's hope it's not true.  I am sick at heart as we all are.  Yes, the story is true and the Governor also.  How hateful some people are. Since, the beauty parlor, the President has died.  We are once again on a plane.  This time a commercial plane.  Poppy (George H.W. Bush's family nickname) picked me up at the beauty parlor -- we went right to the airport, flew to Ft. Worth and dropped Mr. Zeppo off (we were on his plane) and flew back to Dallas.  We had to circle the field while the second Presidential plane took off.  Immediately, Pop got tickets back to Houston, and here we are flying home.  We are sick at heart.  The tales the radio reporters tell of Jackie Kennedy are the bravest.  We are hoping that it is not some far-right nut, but a "commie" nut.  You understand that we know they are both nuts, but just hope that it is not a Texan and not an American at all. I am amazed by the rapid-fire thinking and planning that has already been done.  LBJ has been the President for some time now -- two hours at least and it is only 4:30. My dearest love to you all, Bar

As Barbara Bush noted in her letter, the Bushes did not stay another night at the Dallas Sheraton on November 22nd, as they had originally planned.  They returned to Dallas on the private jet that had transported them to Tyler earlier in the day, and caught a commercial flight home to Houston.  The "second Presidential plane" that took off while Bush's plane circled Love Field was the plane that had transported Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson to Dallas earlier that day, Air Force Two.  Johnson was already heading back to Washington, now on Air Force One, with the casket of John F. Kennedy.

••• The 37th President of the United States and the 41st President of the United States woke up in Dallas, Texas on the morning of November 22, 1963.  The 31st President, 89-year-old Herbert Hoover, was in failing health in the elegant suite he called home at New York's Waldorf-Astoria.  Within the next few weeks, he would be visited by the new President, Lyndon Johnson, and President Kennedy's grieving widow, Jackie, and the President's brother, Attorney General Bobby Kennedy.  The 33rd President, 79-year-old Harry Truman, learned of JFK's death in Missouri, while the 34th President, 73-year-old Dwight D. Eisenhower, heard of the assassination while attending a meeting at the United Nations in New York.  Truman and Eisenhower would squash a long, bitter personal feud that weekend while attending Kennedy's funeral in Washington.  The 38th President, 50-year-old Michigan Congressman Gerald Ford, was driving home with his wife Betty after attending a parent conference with their son Jack's teacher when they heard the news on the radio in their car.  Two days later, President Johnson would call on Ford to serve on the Warren Commission investigating the assassination.  

The 39th President, Jimmy Carter was 39 years old and had just gotten off a tractor near the warehouse of his Plains, Georgia peanut farm when a group of farmers informed him of the news of the shooting.  Carter found a quiet area, kneeled down in prayer, and when he heard that Kennedy had died, cried for the first time since his father had died ten years earlier.  Ronald Reagan, the 40th President, was 52 years old and preparing for a run as Governor of California.  A little more than 17 years later, the now-President Reagan would also be shot by a lone gunman in the middle of the day.  While Reagan would survive the attempt on his life, it was very nearly fatal and reminded his wife, Nancy, of November 22, 1963.  As she was transported to George Washington Hospital following Reagan's shooting, Nancy would later note, "As my mind raced, I flashed to scenes of Parkland Memorial Hospital in Texas, and the day President Kennedy was shot.  I had been driving down San Vicente Boulevard in Los Angeles when a bulletin came over the car radio.  Now, more than seventeen years later, I prayed that history would not be repeated, that Washington would not become another Dallas.  That my husband would live."

The 41st President, Bill Clinton, and the 43rd President, George W. Bush, were both 17 years old and in school -- Bush at the Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts, and Clinton at Hot Springs High School in Hot Springs, Arkansas.  Clinton was in his fourth period calculus class when his teacher was called out of the room and returned to announce that President Kennedy had been killed.  Four months earlier, Clinton had traveled to Washington with the Boys Nation program and, during a ceremony in the Rose Garden of the White House, pushed his way to the front of the line and shook President Kennedy's hand.  The 44th President, Barack Obama, was a 2-year-old living in Hawaii.

••• The 35th President, 46-year-old John F. Kennedy, would die in Dallas on November 22, 1963.  Lyndon B. Johnson, 55, would become the 36th President in Dallas that day.  But they woke up that morning in Fort Worth at the Texas Hotel.  Kennedy had slept the last night of his life in suite 850 on the eighth floor, now the Presidential suite.  LBJ had slept the last night of his Vice Presidency in the much more expensive and elegant Will Rogers Suite on the thirteenth floor.  The Secret Service had vetoed the Will Rogers Suite for the President because it was more difficult to secure.  It was raining in Fort Worth as they woke up, but the skies had cleared by the time they landed in Dallas.  Before breakfast, President Kennedy, Vice President Johnson, and Texas Governor John Connally headed outside and briefly addressed a crowd that had gathered long before the sun had come up in hopes of seeing JFK.  Jacqueline Kennedy didn't accompany them outside and President Kennedy joked to the crowd, "Mrs. Kennedy is organizing herself.  It takes her a little longer but, of course, she looks better than we do when she does it."

Afterward, they headed inside for breakfast in the Texas Hotel's Grand Ballroom with several hundred guests.  The President sent for Mrs. Kennedy to join them, and her late arrival to the breakfast excited the guests in the ballroom.  When the President spoke to the group, he joked again, "Two years ago I introduced myself in Paris as the man who had accompanied Mrs. Kennedy to Paris.  I'm getting somewhat that same sensation as I travel around Texas."  Then he noted, "Nobody wonders what Lyndon and I wear."

When the breakfast ended, the Kennedys headed upstairs and had an hour or so to wait before heading to the airport for the short flight to Dallas.  It was during this time that Jackie Kennedy saw a hateful ad placed in that morning's Dallas Morning News accusing President Kennedy of collusion with Communists and treasnous activity.  Trying to calm Jackie down, the President joked, "Oh, we're heading into nut country today."  But a few minutes later, Jackie overheard Kennedy telling his aide, Ken O'Donnell, "It would not be a very difficult job to shoot the President of the United States.  All you'd have to do is get up in a high building with a high-powered rifle with a telescopic sight, and there's nothing anybody can do."

••• Even though the trip from Fort Worth's Carswell Air Force Base to Dallas's Love Field would only take thirteen minutes by air, the trip to Texas was first-and-foremost a political trip -- a kickoff of sorts to JFK's 1964 re-election campaign -- and a grand entrance was needed.  So, JFK and Jackie boarded the plane usually used as Air Force One, LBJ and Lady Bird Johnson boarded the plane usually used by the Vice President, Air Force Two, and the huge Presidential party took to the skies, covering thirty miles in thirteen minutes, in order to get the big Dallas welcome that they were hoping for.  They landed in Dallas at 11:40 AM, and President Kennedy looked out the window of his plane, saw a big, happy crowd, and told Ken O'Donnell, "This trip is turning out to be terrific.  Here we are in Dallas, and it looks like everything in Texas is going to be fine for us."

At 2:47 PM -- just three hours and seven minutes later -- everyone was back on Air Force One as the plane climbed off of the Love Field runway and into the Dallas sky.  John F. Kennedy, the 35th President, was in a casket wedged into a space in the rear of Air Force One where two rows of seats had been removed so that it would be fit.  Lyndon B. Johnson had officially been sworn in as the 36th President about ten minutes earlier on the plane by federal judge Sarah T. Hughes.  On one side of Johnson while he took the oath was his wife, Lady Bird, and on the other side, the widowed former First Lady, Jackie Kennedy, still wearing a pink dress splattered with her husband's blood and brain matter.

Two American Presidents woke up in Dallas on November 22, 1963 -- Richard Nixon and George H.W. Bush -- but they weren't in town when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, no matter how many ways conspiracy theorists try to twist the story.  The President who died in Dallas that day, John F. Kennedy, and the man who became President in Dallas that day, Lyndon B. Johnson, woke up in Fort Worth on the morning of November 22, 1963.  But they'll be forever linked with Dallas -- and the world that woke up the next morning would never be the same again.    

[byooregard]

Things I think happened between x-men first class and days of future past in the Xavier mansion:

one time both Charles and Hank are drunk and sad and Charles tries to make a move on Hank because this is what he does but Hank being Hank gets so freaked out and then spends the next month thinking oh god does this make me homophobic I'm not homophobic but I'm also not gay I can't be gay because being blue is already bad enough and shit I didn't know the professor was gay but I'm not homophobic though I need to be supportive so loudly that Charles decides that hes never bringing it up again

Hank gets mad at Charles for being some sort of bitch (as he is frequently) but Charles spends like a week entirely oblivious to this because hes shit ass at reading people's emotions when he can't actively hear them

all of star trek the original series airs and is cancelled. in dofp they have a bit where you can see star trek playing on a TV in Hanks lab which means that hes a star trek fan. I think he and Charles watched all of TOS together but I think Charles Xavier is a fake ass nerd who doesn't like watching TV especially sci fi stuff. he spends the entire time pointing out possible scientific inaccuracies and makes the viewing experience generally worse

they also do this with doctor who. which started airing the day after jfk was assassinated

they definetly have a lot of late night emotional conversations in which they reveal far too much about themselves and don't solve anything

Hank tries to bring up the substance abuse problem exactly Once after which they don't talk for a month and it is never brought up again

Hank IS getting payed through all of this for the job he had when the school was still open . he's thought about bringing it up but a) that sounds awkward as hell and b) he doesn't actually want to stop being payed. he thinks he deserves a salary

stonewall happens in 1969. Hank, who has done a lot of growth and self reflection over the years keeps up with it because he thinks the queer community and mutants share a lot of struggles. he tries to bring it up to Charles but Charles goes hmm why should I care and Hank goes I don't know why I even try

Hank does go to the first pride parade it's really great for him he meets a group of queer mutants. it's really big in his journey towards self acceptance

[greenesmyfavcolor]

What year does Little Shop of Horrors take place?

Alright, as you can tell from the title, Imma bout to dissect which exact year LSOH takes place since there’s never been any concrete answer from an official source to my knowledge and lemme tell ya, it’s harder than you think lol

Ok so we know that Audrey II came to earth on September 21st/23rd (21st in the stage version and 23rd in the movie version) during the 1960’s “in an early year of a decade” but they never tell us the exact year.

However we do know that Kennedy was president during the events of the movie as he is mentioned on Seymour’s radio and his presidency lasted from 1961 to 1963.

And in the directors cut (which I consider canon to some extent), Jason and the Argonauts is shown to be playing in a theater during Don’t Feed the Plants and that movie came out in June of 1963 so that must mean LSOH has to take place after that date. So the year has to be 1963 if Kennedy is still president and that movie is playing in theaters.

However Audrey II mentions during Feed Me that Seymour could be on Jack Paar’s radio show and that ran from 1957 to 1962.

So now it can’t be 1963 as Jack Paar would have already ended by then and it can’t be 1962 as Jason wouldn’t have been playing in theaters yet.

However LSOH can still take place in both years. Who’s to say that Audrey II didn’t take over the world until the year 1963? It could have been 1962 when the events of the film started but by the time Audrey II gained enough power to start to destroy NYC, a few months could have passed for it to be 1963. And the film does begin in September which is late into the year so it is plausible.

But here’s when this whole theory really starts to fall apart lol.

Before the shop is renovated, there’s a calendar in the back that’s very hard to read but based on the positioning of the dates, it matches up with the year 1964 as the first day of the month starts on a Tuesday. And it’s shown at the very beginning of the movie so the solar eclipse has to have happened in 1964 which goes against everything else that has been brought up so far. Although the year the calendar says doesn’t necessarily mean that’s the actual year, it’s kind of a long shot to assume that they would have the wrong calendar year hung up.

Also neither the 21st nor the 23rd of September fall on a Thursday in 1964 which is the supposed day of the week the eclipse happened according to the same radio broadcast that mentions JFK.

Also also I looked up what exact month Jack Paar’s radio show ended and it just so happened to end in March of 1962 so LSOH can’t take place in 1962 if it starts in September.

So right now, it may sound like we’ve officially hit a dead end. But the thing is, I’ve mainly been listing off things that show up in the movie which isn’t the original source material. That would be the 1982 stage version. We have to remember that anything in the movie that contradicts what year it takes place in in the stage version is not solid evidence because that’s not what was originally intended. So technically, we only have to go off what the original stage production states if we want to figure out the year.

So in the stage version, it’s still mentioned that it takes place in the 1960’s “in an early year of a decade” and that Jack Paar had a radio show before 1962. The only things the movie brought up were the argonauts, Kennedy, the calendar, and what day of the week the eclipse happened. If you want to go ahead and count anything in the movie as canon evidence as to when LSOH takes place, be my guest but there’s so many things that contradict when it does happens that I’m just going to go off the original stage production.

Because of this, my bet is that the events of LSOH start on September 21st, in between the years 1960 and 1961.

I wish I had more of a solid answer so if anyone has any more evidence that suggests what year it might take place from either the stage or movie version, lmk cause I’ve been thinking on this for way too long 🥲

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I've thinking about this question… and I want to know your perspective:

At first I though British tabloids were kind of invasive and intrusive, I know Diana died in Paris, but somehow I attached it to the British media…

since this year, i´m not sure after what happened with Frederick and that woman, and how some media behave with Catherine (except for TMZ)... I´m not sure which media (Country) is more intrusive.

Given on your experience, which media/tabloide is worse that others?

You can't actually compare the media and tabloid culture that way. Or at least, I'm not comfortable comparing the cultures in that way because it leads to a really flawed analysis.

First, the tabloid culture of the '90s (which affected Diana) was incredibly different from the tabloid culture of the '00s (Kate) and incredibly different from the tabloid culture of today ('20s).

Second, the cultures between the different countries and their media enterprises is also incredibly different. What American media does isn't what British media does, which isn't what Spanish media does, which isn't what Italian or German or French media does.

In both respects, there's no established baseline standard of practice. And you need a baseline in order to set the scale to define what you mean by "worse." Because all of the examples anon cited are from very different times and from different countries, you can't really compare them to each other. So you really can't compare what Frederick went through media-wise with his affair in 2023 in Spain to what Diana went through in 1997 in France to what Kate went through in 2008 in England to what Meghan went through in 2016 in Canada. (And then you have to account for bias and familiarity; most of us only know the tabloid and media culture in the countries that we grew up in or that we're knowledgeable of. For instance, i know a lot about American tabloid culture because I'm an American and because I came of age on Perez Hilton's internet and I know quite a bit about British tabloid culture because of how long I've been a royal watcher. But I know next to nothing about tabloid culture from the '80s - beyond what I've seen in documentaries - or media from other countries.)

What can really only happen is looking within - e.g., if you look at just the tabloid culture of the '90s or of the '10s, or if you look at just the media in England or in Spain. But again, that requires even knowledge of all the countries and all the media/tabloids, rather than just the ones that you know really well.

I know this probably isn't the analysis or the answer that you were looking for, anon.

Focusing specifically on my own personal knowledge of British and American media and tabloid culture, my theory is that British tabloids and media were more viscious in the '90s. They were checked by the public after Diana's death when the backlash against mass consumption reached fever pitch with the likes of George Clooney and Tom Cruise laying the blame for her death specifically on consumers and paparazzi. So while the British tabloids were licking their wounds and trying to find a new star/celebrity to replace Diana (JFK Jr. worked for a bit but then he died), American media and tabloid culture grabbed ahold of the reigns and became the mean, viscious ones in the '00s by turning their coverage on the young female stars of Millennial Hollywood and being more critically- and gossipy-focused in their coverage. American media continued to be the meaner, viscious, "worse" ones until the mid-'10s, when the rise of social media checked them because social media, or Web 2.0 technologies/user-generated content, meant the famous people could control their own image through their own specifically and specially curated content. This is when we started to see the celebrities partnering with tabloids and paparazzi take prevalence (as opposed to the spontaneous stakeouts of known celeb hotspots) and that's where tabloid culture in the US and the UK is today - it's a partnership between the famous person and the publication or photographer.

I can't comment on Spanish media or how the tabloids contributed to Frederick's affair(s) because I know nothing about Spanish media, Danish media, and the Danish royal family.

[witchinatree]

magnus protocol episode 20 ramble

so for like 3 weeks i've been calling this episode "the season 1 halfway point" but i just found out there's 30 episodes per season, not 40. thank u alexander j newall for getting tumblr to correct my mistakes (no other reason)

is this another ink5oul incident?? i see the description is similar to the madame e one

maybe gwen will meet them this time :] i love ink5soul

we can hear them "in the room with no computers" they're failing the colin strat

"this better end with the magnus institute killing jfk"

oh shit???? the protocol IS burning things and they burnt the institute. i should've connected those dots actually damn

JON AND MARTIN ARE SHARING!!!!

i really agree with alice actually like keep your head down and don't fuck with things, make your paycheck and go

YES CELIA LMAOOO "are we sure it was the wrong thing" SHE KNOWS SHE KNOWS SHE KNOWS "world ending bad" SCREECHING

alice showing genuine emotions i'm so proud of her!! sam and celia should listen to her honestly

OH SHIT I WAS RIGHT

"grace wilde" ok ink5oul has an actual name

an opportunity? does gwen have to recruit externals??

oh shit does ink5oul not know what's happening??? oh shit oh shit

since the fears are more like obsessions now, does the devotion to a person force them into avatar-ism? that's genuinely so sad what the hell, makes sense for everyone we've met though i think

so this is a live statement and gwen is taking it, gwen asked a question and got a life story, sounds FAMILIAR..

ohh so they became obsessed with the attention and then learned from a creepy guy

is it not about the ink but instead the design? also this genuinely reminds me of the eye with how they did it for attention and wanted to be SEEN, but what are the tattoo designs themselves?

genuinely love how one of the reoccuring themes in the podcast is the horror of social media

ink5oul kinda seems like they're at the season 3 jon stage of being an avatar but with more freedom to embrace it, i feel really bad for them. okay queen you're not helping i'm writing this and i'm hearing you say "i'm better than them!"

GWEN NO YOU REALLY SHOULD GET OUT OF THERE TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER FOR ONCE. WHY IS THAT HOW THE EPISODE ENDS OH MY FUCKING GOD

[invested-in-your-future]

What do you think the mistakes with White Fang story were?

The biggest mistake was not having that plotline at all beyond lipservice.

I think the "no no, any sort of actual resistance instantly makes you bad guys" is such a flawed and stupid position for a show to take.

The show's failure is highlighting WF motivations and WHY would anyone feasibly go down that route - HOW do Mistral, Atlas, etc treat Faunus or even Vale.

JFK once said - "Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable."

If he existed in MilesWBY the quote would be "Only peaceful revolution is possible and anything else is evil"

We never see WHAT the Faunus have to deal with or how the society changed, (and if it did) since the Great War. We never see HOW Blake becomes the person she is (and if anything, have her regress by making her a runaway princess of tropic paradise)

The result is honestly quite racist - the show silently suggests (through the combined force of Blake's awful monologue and how Ilia's storyline ends) that the problem with The Faunus is their own "destructive" tendencies and their "unwillingness" to compromise or "wait for things to get better by being model minorities" - if only they waited a bit longer all the bigots would recognize how wrong they were!

With what the show presents, it's literally impossible to delve into the intricacies of the nature of extremism or why Adam's approach is flawed - because the show posits that the only right way forward is via complete no-exceptions peaceful resistance of… being nice and docile even when threatened with death?

We are straight up EXPECTED to see Ilia beating up bigots who laughed at people dying in the mines as BAD - the narrative EXPECTS the viewer to be horrified at her revelation rather than feel catharsis for her doing the right thing. The writing wants us to "feel like Blake" by being horrified at how violent and unhinged her friend is while completely ignoring the context - because any resistance beyond non-violent slogans is instantly a slippery slope into blowing up schools.

And where does that argument end up? In Twitter posts about how all those people shot by the cops "deserved" it by "doing something to aggravate them" - that's where.

Adam IS abusive, and Adam IS in the wrong and it's pretty clear that he has long since been addicted to power, BUT there's no possibility to even begin discussing what's right or wrong with the way the show handles the WF plotline as a whole.

We don't know what position Blake can take nor what position she had on the matter before because we don't get a sense of how WF could function beyond the two completely absurd strawman extremes of whatever sunken place nonsense Ghira's WF was in and whatever slippery slope cult-like strawman his successor created (nor how that progression happened).

What is his "vision"? What does he hope to achieve? How did he, according to Blake, "change"? We know nothing about White Fang beyond "Ghira's Non-Resistance White Man's Strawman of MLK" WF being good and his successor's WF being a slippery slope argument.

No wonder the show defaults to the most rudimentary aspect of Adam's flaws in the final confrontation, refusing to give both Yang and Blake a chance to refute him thematically while also refusing to give them proper character arcs that would lead to that confrontation - because the narrative never thought things through beyond that.

The show jumps around random and nonsensical gods subplots and religious imagery being all daring about what needs to change, but the moment actual themes of discrimination and human nature are at play, the narrative instantly becomes just so in love with status quo.

The WF began as "angry redshirts to be beaten up" and when the show decided to move on to all the "exciting"(it's really not) Brother Gods nonsense, the subplot got thrown away in the most racist way possible.

[samstclair]

Tommy Shelby's Barmaid

Tommy Shelby X Reader

Anonymous Request - 

Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)

Word Count: pretty long

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And where are we off to, Miss?" 

"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"

The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast. 

"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?" 

"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!

The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you. 

"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you. 

"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on. 

"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself. 

You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure. 

"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit. 

With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do. 

As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game. 

Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!

Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be. 

Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever. 

About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest. 

However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one. 

"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."

You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye. 

The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.

"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]

After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr. 

A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3

You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic. 

You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh. 

You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that. 

You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it. 

You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on. 

"Ello Miss? Miss?" 

Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake. 

"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up. 

"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.

"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach - 

"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out.  "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"

As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always. 

"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!

But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight. 

"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"

And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication. 

You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what?  A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye. 

You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking. 

"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav. 

"Oh my god, you guys exist?"

She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe. 

"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended. 

"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"

"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"

"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car. 

"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"

"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"

Their faces dropped with fear. 

"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned. 

"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."

"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"

"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"

"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"

You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly. 

You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell. 

"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"

You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits. 

Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray. 

"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"

No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified. 

You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.  

"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"

You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up. 

"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"

You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set. 

It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it. 

"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."

The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?

Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it. 

You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!

Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime. 

"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."

"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"

"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."

He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"

"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."

Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost. 

It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry. 

"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3

Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.  

"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke. 

"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused. 

"Y'all got a menu?" 

"I'm sorry?"

"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it. 

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."

"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"

"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"

He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face. 

"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"

You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale. 

"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose. 

His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"

You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities. 

"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."

"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."

The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing. 

"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked. 

"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."

"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"

"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."

You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing. 

"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."

"Queen?" he asked. 

"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water. 

"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles. 

"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."

You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time. 

About half an hour later, you were mid-way through. 

"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."

"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked. 

"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."

"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked. 

"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.

"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"

They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other. 

"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."

"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber. 

"Def," you said.

"So you and Kendall?" another asked.

"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."

"But this is Birmingham?" another man said. 

"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."

Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen. 

"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry. 

He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought. 

You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck. 

You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%. 

"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket." 

You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling. 

You clicked play. 

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"

"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."

"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.

"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say. 

You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg. 

"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...

You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.  

Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no. 

"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"

"What's a credit score?"

You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit. 

But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...

"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away. 

He didn't reply. 

"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily. 

"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."

"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat. 

You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place. 

You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead. 

He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke. 

You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier. 

"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.

"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."

You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine. 

Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words. 

"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"

He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."

"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."

"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass. 

"Bagpipes, I've heard."

He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined. 

"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"

He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up. 

"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up. 

As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!

He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring. 

"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."

"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating. 

"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."

"Parole?"

"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked. 

He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad. 

"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."

He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way. 

"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him. 

"Most nights," he said. 

"Don't worry, me too."

"You served?"

"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend. 

"I wasn't aware women served."

"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest. 

"What's it you're looking at?"

"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...

You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second. 

You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."

You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3. 

Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!

But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you. 

You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs. 

Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think, 

"What if I just grabbed his hat?"

Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won. 

"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic.  You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3

But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...

You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself, 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -" 

The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo. 

He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.

He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes. 

"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)

He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless. 

You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head. 

"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"

"Can you sing?"

You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum? 

"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"

"Every barmaid knows how to sing."

"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"

He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo. 

"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"

"Lana. She sounds nice."

You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."

"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway. 

You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter. 

You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop. 

"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.

"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."

You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!

You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.

Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose. 

Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!

You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile. 

"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground. 

He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did. 

"Do you have something nice to wear?"

"Like what?"

"A dress?"

"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"

He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."

"We're gonna race?"

"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."

"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.

The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker. 

You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl. 

You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had. 

It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly. 

You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.  

You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now. 

"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."

And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car. 

"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window. 

It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.

You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys. 

Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life. 

"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed. 

"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"

Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself. 

Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good. 

He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake. 

"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"

Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy. 

"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."

Tommy turned back to the road. 

"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on. 

"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"

You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.

Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"

You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades. 

"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested. 

"What?" John asked. 

"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades. 

Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."

"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"

The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked. 

"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."

You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities. 

"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.  

"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3

It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining. 

Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅." 

He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away. 

"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else. 

"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to. 

Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there. 

"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone. 

"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good. 

"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."

He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips. 

"Not hungry."

You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."

"Maybe later. Do you dance?"

"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."

"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored. 

All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art. 

With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great. 

Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else. 

As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating. 

"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win."  You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong. 

Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor. 

"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays. 

"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...

You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows. 

The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross. 

"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?" 

"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.

"Wot?" Kimber spat. 

You almost laughed. 

"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".

Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless. 

"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.  

You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts. 

"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."

You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused. 

"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall. 

He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak. 

"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"

With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches. 

When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.

You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane. 

You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself. 

"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"

You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment. 

You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat. 

Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran. 

"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you. 

"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"

"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."

"The mouth on you -"

"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"

"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted. 

As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried. 

"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"

"Girl move -"

You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet. 

After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had. 

As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping? 

You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."

After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.

 You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!

After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race. 

But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere. 

You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her. 

"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."

The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!

"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"

You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."

You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...

You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy. 

You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier. 

You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen. 

"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"

"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual. 

"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"

He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."

"Ew, why?"

"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."

You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!

"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"

He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling. 

Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe. 

Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3

"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."

You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!

"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"

He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!

He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!

"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot. 

You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like. 

"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"

He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in. 

"I know people. It's my job."

You couldn't help but smirk.

"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought. 

He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit. 

You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME. 

You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good. 

You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering. 

For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it. 

There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure. 

You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove

"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked. 

The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"

You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats. 

"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it. 

You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!

"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it. 

He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."

"Aren't I already, low-key though?"

"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"

He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend. 

"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"

You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says. 

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.

You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone. 

You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken. 

" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"

He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face. 

"I'm not familiar with them."

"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."

He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination. 

"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."

He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts. 

As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious. 

You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed. 

And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power. 

You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot. 

Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it! 

Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:

Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)

Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))

Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)

Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)

Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)

Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)

Love Song (this makes them all cry)

Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)

National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)

Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)

Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl. 

There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously, 

"Y/N, don't."

You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."

Besides that, everything was great and chill.

It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered. 

"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk. 

"Yeah, what?"

"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?" 

"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?

"Do you know where I can find him?"

You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy. 

"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that. 

He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy. 

And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that. 

"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."

Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....

P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight. 

You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.

You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face. 

"Lana or Nicki?"

"Lana."

"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."

He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."

This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh. 

You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"

And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut. 

He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing. 

You cleared your throat. 

"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."

The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".  

"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"

You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did. 

" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "

No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED. 

"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him. 

You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?

"Wait, Tommy -"

"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU. 

"Stop what -"

"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."

"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."

He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time. 

You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now. 

"Tommy -"

"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you. 

Spin. Spin. Spin.

"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"

And there it was. 

And there you went. 

He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham. 

That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that. 

Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end. 

And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless. 

You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters. 

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo, 

~Sam St. Clair

[dykesynthezoid]

No but really like. People need to be aware that the warnings against historical revisionism and conspiracy theories do indeed also go for narratives that align with their supposedly more progressive reliefs. You can’t get a free pass just bc you think you’re on the right side of history. It doesn’t work like that I fear. Unfortunately this does include things like the JFK assassination. I know it’s fun to imagine what “might’ve” happened but you do need to actually be able to examine different forms of historical evidence and weigh their authenticity. It is important actually

[xf-cases-solved]

S1E17: E.B.E.

Case: Bro, I watched and (mostly) paid attention to this episode, took notes on this episode, and read the Wikipedia page about this episode, and I'm still not 100% sure I know what happened in this episode. TL;DR, there might have been a UFO spotted, carrying an E.B.E. (extraterrestrial biological entity), and the shadow government might be trying to hide it. Or maybe the shadow government is trying to make them THINK that they're trying to hide it to distract them from ??? Deep Throat is telling the truth. Unless he's lying. Maybe he's telling half-truths. He lies to protect himself. Or maybe he lies to mislead Mulder. Maybe he's physically incapable of lying. Maybe he has never once been able to tell the truth. Maybe there are two Deep Throats and one only ever lies and the other only ever tells the truth and you have to solve his riddle. Whatever. That's for Mulder and Scully to deal with. The actual main purpose of this episode is—LONE GUNMEN INTRODUCTION!!! 

God, I love those sluts.

(Oh, also, at the beginning of the episode, some government officials are trying to get rid of Mulder and Scully, bc that's usually what happens, and instead of trying to be circuitous and Political™️, the guy just sighs, sounding super over it, and says, "Just go away." That's not relevant to the case or anything, I just thought it was really funny.)  

Does someone die in the cold open: Unclear. It's possible an alien was kerploded, but really, who's to say?

Does Mulder present a slideshow: No

Does the evidence survive the investigation: Homie, idek if there was evidence to begin with. I don't even know if there was an actual CASE, or if this was just Mulder dragging Scully along for a fun extracurricular activity. 

Whodunit: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Convictions: lol

Did they solve it: No. They don't even get experience points. Fuck you.

[how do i determine if a case is solved? check the scale here: x]

THIS EPISODE IS SPONSORED BY: The Lone Gunmen periodical—your monthly top news source for all things conspiracy. Who killed JFK? What's the government REALLY doing with all those AI devices? Have you checked your twenty dollar bills for any tracking devices lately?

Subscribe today to find out!

***

General Total Stats:

(green means stat has changed since last ep; red means new stat added to list)

Total Cases *Definitively* Solved So Far: 8 (streak ended)

Total Number of "Mulder/Scully, It's Me" phone calls: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Has Conveniently Not Seen Something Crucial: 5 (i'll say that her not running after Mulder and ergo missing the entire scene with Deep Throat counts)

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Been in Mortal Danger: 5

Total Number of Times Scully Has Been in Mortal Danger: 6 

Total Number of Sexually Charged, Uncomfortably Intimate, and/or Flirty Moments Between Friendly Coworkers: 10 ("i think it's remotely plausible someone might think you're hot." excuse me, sir?? 😳😏 also, "you're the only one that i trust." like damn, use your inside voice. every time these two talk about trust, i feel like i'm watching their amateur porn)

Total Number of Autopsies Scully Has Performed On Screen: 1

Total Number of Times Scully Plays Doctor: 2

Total Number of Times Mulder Talks to an Informant: 10 (there was a lot of deep throating in this episode, and no i will never be mature about that name so don't even ask)

Total Number of Times People Making Out in a Car Are Hurt or Killed: 2

Total Number of Nosebleeds: 4

Total Number of Times Mulder Has Tasted/Sniffed/Touched Something Questionable Without Following Proper Safety Procedures: 2 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "Trust No One": 1 

Total Number of Times Someone Says "I Want to Believe": 2

Total Number of Times Someone Says "The Truth is Out There": 1 (i might have missed some before this, bc i thought i was tracking this stat already, but apparently i wasn't. we're just gonna pretend otherwise tho, mk?)

Total Number of Cigarettes Cigarette Smoking Man Has Smoked: 2

Total Number of Maggie Scully Sightings: 1 

Total Number of Lone Gunmen Sightings: 1!!!

Total Number of Alex Krycek Sightings: 0 :(

Total Number of Times I Had to Look Up What State the Episode Takes Place in Even Though I Literally Just Watched It: 5½ (whatever. i know part of it took place in i think mb iraq? and then they were at the lone gunmen's house and the hoover building so they had to have been in DC too. so leave me alone 😔)

Total Number of Times I Had to Look at an Episode's Wikipedia Page to Fill This Out Because It Was Fucking Confusing and/or Too Boring for Me to Pay Attention: 4 (at the end of my notes on this episode, i literally wrote down "i have no idea what happened in that episode." and it was tru 😌)

[israaverse]

This is probably a result of diminishing expectations but it's wild how Civil War was the last movie to give Bucky a decent look, because every appearance since then seems intent on making him uglier and hideouser— okay wait I just realized I'm kinda exaggerating his look on the Falcon show wasn't bad I'm just letting my hate for that shows writing & the it's exemplification of nearly all the ways Marvel used the Cap brand to push propaganda cloud my perception of the visuals..... but everything else! jail. (can you tell I just discovered what he looks like in the quote "degenerate villain" squad movie?)

NGL they did Steve bad but at least they killed him off. Seeing how they made a decent Cap2 with blatant cliffhanger-setup for a sequel continuing that storyline just to... not continue it & instead cast Bucky as The Bad Guy of the Group because of multiple directors+writers (explicitly admitted in interviews) hate for Bucky... is still wild. They practically dropped his entire character development arc after only hinting at it in an end credit scene. And it's a large part of why Steve's character circled the drain too before getting killed off because the core part of Steve's character arc was dependent on Bucky's story arc actually being continued instead of randomly dropped for multiple back to back crossover events.

Marvel managing to make one decent movie out of CapAm is more of a curse than anything. It'd have been better if expectations never got lifted off the ground and just kept the characters rah rah 🇺🇲 PatriotMonologueBotd all the way through like in the comics, which aren't very good.... at all. If you thought the propaganda is gonna be bad in the upcoming Cap4 movie, the DNC-style patriotism of the Captain America brand becomes is even worse in the comics, and it gets worse to stomach with IRL events making it seem more and more out of touch. Treating the USA flag (and its representatives) as a literary symbol of moral virtue gets more and more ridiculous with each new run of books (like, did you know that a recent run decided to flashback to WW2 just to include a revisionist-fake-history speech about how the Zlonlsts were a large force fighting against the Nazis, whereas IRL the opposite happened). How a single decent adaptation was managed to be pulled out of the source material is still kinda shocking. But now Marvel seems to have remembered that the CapAm brand is meant for their white writers to pull out atrocious political takes via superheroes. Back to tradition!

the fact that writers n directors hate him baffles me bc Winter Soldier is such a good setup but they just let him FLOAT AROUND? A SET PIECE? AN OBJECT OF THE PLOT????? like you MADE HIM THAT WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

im convinced that the US military propaganda contracts completely neutered his MCU character bc if u think about it for more than 5 seconds you start coming to Conclusions (didnt WS point out that the US govt hired a bunch of nazi scientists, framed him as JFK's assassin, etc etc etc.....) and they made the decision to just nuke him as a result. Oooh he was just a bad guyyy all alooong SHUT UPPPP hes morally grey even an antihero for a bit but hes not EVIL he is literally the poster boy of being manipulated into doing atrocities for the interests of a greater power and they just. dropped it. on its ass. esp with the stupid Sabra and Zionism bullshit its like ohhh i see we are gearing up for a media push for fascist nationalistic narratives for a draft or more wars and the presence of moral grayness isnt conducive to that so its just cut. got it.

like the Falcon show was........ so clearly cut to erase that moral grayness it made me ill. so ill i even sought out WS' presence in the comics and like you said its just not cutting it even slightly. they flattened him which SUCKS but also they made him UGLY WHICH IM WAY MADDER ABOUT. IF I CANT HAVE HIS MORAL COMPLEXITY WHY DID YOU UNSEXIFY HIMMM

IT DOESNT EVEN MAKE FINANCIAL SENSE BC I WAS ONLINE WHEN PEOPLE WERE FROTHING AT THE MOUTH OVER HIM SO WHYYYYYYYYY DO THEY HIT HIM WITH THE MOST ATROCIOUS WIGS TO EVER BE SEEN IN AN MCU MOVIE IM ILLLLLL

FIRING SQUAD, ELECTRIC CHAIR, THE GALLOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MULTIBILLION DOLLAR MOVIE AND THEY ONLY GOT HIM SYNTHETIC IM SO SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOK AT WHAT THEY TOOK FROM US!!!!!!!!!! SNIPPED LIKE A GODDAMN BARBIE , THE AURA!!!! IM SO MAD

i remember being SO excited when civil war came out bc the kind of political thriller feeling of winter soldier was so enrapturing!!!!! it captured me in a way the other MCU films lacked, so to see him stagnate like he has is just mortifying. especially visually. if they wanted to commit to the whole "hair holds memories"/buzz cut to visually separate himself from what he's done then DO IT!!!! dont linger at the threshold then go back to cash in on his old look but done BADLY. i almost wish he got killed off in civil war or shortly after because hes so clearly become a Plot Device instead of a Character and its so disappointing.

sorry for the super long un-art related post but oh my god this gets me so wound up, Bucky/WS was my first brainrot from back in my forum days (had an RP partner who based their character off him).

[jfkonfucius]

Your clone high au is so cool! I feel bad for poor Confucius tho… ;n;

Is he self-conscious about his burn scars? Does he ever catch his friends accidentally staring? Would Cleo ever let him borrow her makeup to cover them up? Does JFK ever talk about it to him or do they both kind of pretend nothing’s different? Do the burns still hurt him, even now?

I feel like Abe and Joan didn’t get it bad at all…

Sorry for so many questions, I’m a big fan <3

I'M GLAD YOU LIKEY !!

- YEAH. Confucius is very self-conscious about his scars:(

- He often catches his friends staring, but he never speaks up about it. He thinks it's normal & that he deserves it

- Cleo would be hesitant to let him borrow her makeup unless she's the one putting it on. With that said, Confucius isn't interested in hiding the scars as he thinks it would be stupid: "everyone knows, what's the point?"

- JFK almost never brings up the scars specifically, but it's clear he's very fixated on what happened, the incident and how he almost lost Confucius. JFK stares a lot, he doesn't seem to connect the dots and realize that it's not polite to do so

- Confucius' burn scars still hurt sometimes, he often neglects or does not take proper care of them

- While Abe and Joan didn't get nearly as much physical scarring as Confucius did, they also have a lot of psychological damage to deal with! Incredible guilt on both sides

OMG don't apologize for the amount of questions!! I was actually really happy to see this ask cuz I don't get to talk about BB with people outside of my friend group a whole lot

Thank you for the ask! SMILES!

[a-spacecadet]

~My thoughts on JFK’s character assassination from S2~ 

Okay finally writing this all out!

(Sorry, these are all the negative things I have to say, my positive impressions will have to be another post) 

First off, I really love jfk, in both seasons. Are they the same guy? Not really. One person on here on Tumblr made the comment that s2 jfk is the jfk in the mirror. Headcanon accepted! XD

So, why is he out of character in the 2nd season? First off, he’s a genuinely nice guy, which is waaaaayyy different than how he acted in s1, even at the end. He definitely had some growth and development in s1, but even in the last ep he was still punching other dudes, had 5 different girls as his prom dates, and made jokes of his rival Abe (although at this point it was a bit justified, but anyways…) All in all, he’s not a bad person per-se, but he’s definitely still a 16-year-old teenager. 

So in s2, after what is only ONE NIGHT OF SLEEP for him, his personality has a huge change. He doesn’t bully other boys (like Confucius, a social-media obsessed teen with a weird sense of fashion), he’s loyal and loving to ONE girlfriend (never had the first show really established that he loved Joan in that way), he’s no longer antagonistic, and is rather quieter and less crude. (I say less crude because although he still makes sex jokes, other students are shown that they DO find them funny and his jokes tend to not be misogynist like they were in s1). 

I actually like that jfk has changed and become a better person, I think that’s great, he’s maturing! But when? When does this happen? When he slept overnight in the meat locker? Nothing indicates that he would have a reason to change. (Some argue his love for Joan, but again, this seemingly came out of the blue).  Speaking of his love for Joan, I’ve seen some great fanfics add context to s1 in how he really was in love with her, but the show itself really doesn’t indicate this at all. 

*Side tangent to expound on this!* Did he have crush on John Darc (really Joan)? Yeah, but really for no other reason than his boyish instinct (or Kennedy sense as he calls it lol) detected a hot girl!! He liked John Darc because he’s attracted to hot women, not Joan specifically. Also, he doesn’t seem to follow up his crush with her after the episode because I really don’t think he was interested in her other than the fact that she’s a pretty lady. Of course, I think this comes back full circle when we get to the finale, when Joan believes she has to dress up like a slut in order to be considered pretty… which is why jfk says he likes her when she’s just being herself. Because he knows she’s been “a knock-out Betty” this whole time, unlike that “chowder-head Lincoln.” However, not being dense like good ol’ Abe to realize Joan is stunning as she is… doesn’t quite equal the “love of his life.” OF COURSE he likes her, because she’s a babe! But her being a babe doesn’t indicate that he’d suddenly have a massive character change to be dedicated and loyal to her!! *Side tangent over*

Specific changes that I noticed that were off: 

“I like boobies and butts! Any shape or uh, size.” No, no he doesn’t. Why would his opinion from s1 (“You know my policy, no fatties!”) Suddenly change? Ofc I’m glad he’s no longer fat-phobic, but why?

“Your fourth string kicker won’t let you down!” What? What happened to being captain of the football team? “El capitan of the futbol team?” Winning the track meets? Being overall a competent athlete? 

“I let all my male friendships fade away!” Okay, this one is tricky. JFK really did lose Ponce, and he did in fact end up losing Gandhi even if he wasn’t aware of it. HOWEVER, s1 suggested he was one of the popular kids at school, you’re telling me he had no other friends? Like, not even Julius Cesar who was very often seen with him? Also, s2 does not even mention Ponce (unfortunately) which may have been used as a very good excuse for jfk to be so upset. (Right now, JFK’s tears in s2 ep 2 from missing Ponce only exist in headcanon).

“I’m afraid Joan is the love of my life and I’m not good enough for her!” See my side tangent, but also, why is he suddenly so insecure? One of his traits in s1 was his confident swag.

“Woah, I’ve never had anyone turn me down before…but that’s okay!” I mean, not usually, if he wasn’t asking FREAKING JOAN. The same Joan that was known for kicking, hitting, smacking, and punching him for every little advance he made towards her. He should know better at this point? Even if he did successfully sleep with her, I can’t imagine he’d really be that surprised she told him no, or as she said in the show “let me think about it.” 

His crying. He cries SO much in s2. But didn’t he cry in s1 as well? I can hear you asking. Yes, but he cried specifically in ep 10 because HIS BEST FRIEND TRAGICALLY AND SUDDENLY DIED.  Also, the reason the “Litter” ep is so funny is because up until that point we’ve never seen jfk so upset and distraught before, he’s genuinely weeping and mourning and we’ve NEVER seen this side of him, nor will we again. But in s2, he cries about everything! He’s literally the depressed loser crying in the freaking bathroom cause he “has no friends”! I guess I wouldn’t have minded as much if it didn’t literally make him look like a crybaby. Even in s1 he cried a bit at the notion of losing Cleo, but he wasn’t known for that. 

“Your lips are like a fine chalice of…uuuuhhh, wEt sTUfF!!” Heatstroke jfk was pretty funny, but it also highlighted another change. He’s freaking STUPID in s2. I’m not saying he was particularly “smart” in s1, but he definitely wasn’t the dumb “hurr durr” kinda idiot he is in s2. The one time I think jfk came across as actually dumb in s1 is when he thought Ponce was a genie, but tbh that was more sad than him being just plain dumb. Other things like talking to his reflection or his weird accent were more like quirks, not indicating that’s he stupid. He aced his PXJT test for crying out loud! (“Did you see me on that test Cleo? I smoked it! I can’t wait to see my time.”)

Wanting to be like his clone father. Back to his accent, I genuinely believe he is trying to do an impression (albeit bad) of the real JFK, he’s not talking like that because he has an actual speech impediment. Also, being faithful to Joan also doesn’t work on another sense because he thinks the real JFK was “a macho womanizing stud who conquered the moon!” and I think clone jfk was trying to live up to his legacy by being a womanizer, something not seen at all in s2.

“Woah a little spaceship! I’m gonna go chase it!” Another thing that bothered me is that he really does act like a golden retriever in s2. He’s been reduced to nothing more than a cute puppy dog, a plot device for Joan, a wholesome himbo who’s dumb but well-meaning, and overall BORING.

The only thing on his mind is sex. Like, really? Literally everything that comes out of his mouth in s2 has something to do with sex, much to Joan’s annoyance and part of the reason she broke up with him. S2 tries to make it seem that jfk is very shallow and has no hobbies or interests, but that is NOT TRUE! He loves sports, watching (“But you usually watch SportsCenter up in your room baby” - Wally) and playing them, he cares about his appearance and knows a bit about fashion (hey, his efforts to help Gandhi resulted in the dude becoming instantly popular), he records his own music! HE SINGS AND HAS HIS OWN STUDIO! He likes cool cars and drag racing! He likes throwing parties!! There’s more to his character than just sex!! 

Okay, that’s most of it. 

Of course, I will also mention the obvious (that others have already pointed out) he went from genuinely hilarious to slightly obnoxious and annoying.

TLDR: he’s turned from a macho womanizing stud, a confident chad, a jerk with soft side, a man of swag and style, to…an insecure crybaby, a boring “nice guy” who’s also a huge idiot.

To end, I still love JFK, even in s2. I appreciate the cute moments he has, and ignoring lack of time for character development I like that he’s trying to be a better person and that’s he’s matured. I could talk about all the things I did like about him in s2, but that will have to wait another day haha. 

[raisinushigher]

hi im just gonna put my thoughts on every clone high ship i can think of here

jfgogh - i think its cute. i can definitely see jfk like uplifting gogh and him falling in love over like the most basic display of kindness and jfk just being like “haha woah there guy i didnt mean it like that” but then he realises he Does

gogh x gandhi - LOTS of mixed feelings on this one but it is pretty interesting truth be told. like, the way gogh didnt just sit back and take what gandhi did to him and instead retaliated, i like that, i like the thought of two tiny guys having the most unnecessarily intense rivalry ever, but i know that isn’t really the way the ship is portrayed often rather than wholesome stuff . you interpret ships however you want though

gfk i think is the name for it - im so sorry as a gandhabe connoisseur i know how annoying it is when people say this about a ship that absolutely entraps you but i think jfk and gandhi are more accurate together as just silly friends who see eachother like once a month. jfk casually brings up a girl hes dating (or rather just having sex with frequently) and gandhi is like wait what happened to the other one? like hes very out of the loop but he listens and they both hype eachother up a lot

ceasgogh, gogh x christo, ceaser x christo, whether it’s any of those seperately or polyamory - i love this one so very much for literally no reason. maybe its like a nostalgia thing cuz i remember people talking about them sometimes in 2020 and being like Aw that’s cute but idk something about them feels so like. objectively correct. like yep that’s the little background trio standing together in an episode as they should be

abefk i think - i like it!! even though it’s barely known apart from jokingly i really like the classic 2000s rivalry between a nice boy and an asshole jock thing that was going on between them before ponce’s death, i admit i miss their interactions. i miss how theyd refer to eachother with their last names. also the part in season 2 episode 6 where they both were recalling memories of the grassy knoll and abe went “i used to get food thrown at me” and jfk continued “i used to be the one throwing that food”. i like them

joanabe - i know this one is like barely a ship but i still need to talk about them badly. their friendship is so important to me. the way its always been them whether it’s joan crushing on abe or the other way around, they’re just so special to eachother in any and every way, and both struggle with the choice of helping the other or doing things that hurt the other but ultimately raise their chances of getting together. tbh im so interested in whats gonna happen with them in the finale, and in the next seasons bc i doubt their back and forth crush thing is gonna last the ENTIRE show like itll be getting a new sort of premise or main character focus which im excited for

joanfk - some of the fanart is absolutely adorable COUGH COUGH ORT SMORT COUG but its just not for me man. biggest two factors as to why i dislike it being how it overtook the fandom, and how to me they just never had any substance. they have a fun dynamic and the season 1 finale was sweet but idk it just never affected me that much. also bc i always knew it was gonna crash and burn. like that is not a stable couple as cute as it is sometimes. like at all. and im happy episode 7 finally addressed it

abe x cleo - again, not really a fondly talked about ship, but they are pretty dear to me. it’s the way cleo was clearly playing with abe at the start but actually saw the charm in him and was actually upset when he finally digested his feelings for joan… i really hope they’re gonna be good friends in the future bc episode 7 seemed to be sort of a start for that friendship and them learning to be ok around eachother after the finale…

joan x cleo - ive always been scared to talk about this one bc some people see them as sisters, which i Really dont. they never acted in a sisterly way at all, and the living together thing lasted for like what. one episode. so i doubt it had any affect on how they view their relationship. but again absolutely fair if it makes you uncomfortable for this reason! but yeah i do like them. very very good trope and there can be some really cute stuff done with them dynamic wise

gandhabe my heart and soul my romeo and juliet my sun and moon my red and blue - AUGHGGGGG MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE. EVER. IN THE WHOLE SHOW FOR EVER they just have such sweet interactions and everything they do they do with the other in mind and i want them to have an emotional reunion in the season 3 finale sO SHRGFRHRVRRRRR RR RBR R R R. RR R. sorry this is mostly incoherent screaming rather than actual words I just DUCIGJGN LVOE GANDHABEEEEE EEYEHEEE THEYRE END GAME!! THEY ARE END GAME WHETHER ITS AS FRIENDS OR ROMANTICALLY RHEY ARE THE ONES

ok now onto the ones involving the new gen clones

harriucius - i like them its the second het ship in the show ive ever actually liked!! they just both go so well in so many ways, they both have almost the exact same struggles and cope in similar ways, but harriet has more of a hands on attitude with her problems, while confucius tends to avoid things. im VERY interested in how their relationship will go and i dont really think anything’s gonna happen to them bc i cant picture the show pairing either of them up with anyone else (mostly confucius tbh 😭)

joanharriet - i WISH this one was more acknowledged by the fandom like i think its the least popular one at least involving the newbies.. can you tell im a sucker for ships that are literally just two close friends who love eachother more than anything. lol. when i think of them i think of episode 5 which makes me extremely happy. like look me in the eyes and tell me that was not an absolutely beautiful wonderfully wrapped episode

johnfucius - gonna be honest i dont like this one. i know this is a really rich thing to say while talking about clone high season 2 but it just felt rushed, and especially with how they barely did anything after sleepover. like they were literally crying both of them being like OMG I FINALLY HAVE A FRIEND!! and then they proceed to have the most stale interactions with the most notable one being in the next episode and it’s literally just confucius encouraging jfk to avoid his problems like he does. not really good. but again if you enjoy them all the power to you, im happy you found something you like that hasn’t been ruined and seems pretty docile and chill compared to all the other ones :o) it’s very much a mostly fandom based ship

kahlopatra - BEAUTIFUL. BEAUTIFUL. I HAVE NO WORDS JUST BEAUTIFUL. there definitely was a lack of suspense like based off the intro and the slight buildup throughout the series BUT that literally doesn’t matter. out of every canon couple they are the absolute cutest im obsessed with the effect they have on eachother. especially on cleos side of things like ahhh!!!! she found someone she actually connects to genuinely!!!! i am so happy for her!!!!!!

tophucius - not much about this one its just pretty fun and silly . i feel bad for the people who thought something big was gonna be going on w them but the small details peppered in about them in sleepover were nice. i always liked how when confucius saw that topher typed your instead of you’re, he went “i thought so” like to me that confirms they do this all the time and they know it’s them. also really funny to imagine them being sworn enemies online but when they actually see eachother in school theyre Like oh shit hey man what’s up! hope youre well! like not even through gritted teeth or anything they’re just so chill irl for no reason

abetoph - Sigh i sure did save this one for last. while im a lot less comfortable with it now i still love thinking of them pre episode 8 and i do think their relationship is just ever so slightly more interesting now with the added double crossing n shit added to it. but im also sad they’ll never be the way they were may 24th to june 14th again . that specific time period of them is so comforting to me for no reason, all the memes and running jokes in the fandom involving them, all the wholesome fan work of them sleeping in tophers bed, watching stuff on tophers computer together, abe being tophers voice of the reason and the one person he actually likes, it’s just so … man. We Could Have Had It All. i love them for ever.

thank you so much for listening

[reisakumaproducer]

okay Robin and I have been discussing Evil Rei and I made this tierlist based on our discussion.

Basically Wataru notices something is up and ends up conversing with Hinata since Hinata went to New York with him. When he realizes Rei had been acting weird since he showed up late at JFK airport, he'd figure something happened to Rei

He investigates privately though and informs the rest of the Oddballs. Meanwhile UNDEAD also thinks there is something up with Rei. They end up running into the Oddballs and they both exchange info. Then 2wink joins in (Hinata tries to convince himself that he's just imagining Rei is acting differently but Yuuta is like no aniki clearly something is up). Eventually, Ritsu joins in too and they all come to the conclusion that Rei got replaced with a doppelganger after learning about the Macky incident in Road to Show.

Ibara sort of knows what's going on because of his mice (idk if he still has those).

Hell dorm, Keito, and some of Rei's circle mates also realize Rei is acting differently. Nagisa and Mao notice it when Rei was late to the airport, but they don't suspect anything much beyond that

Anyways Wataru and Shu go to New York to try and find the actual Rei while the rest of Rei Rescue Team stay behind to confront what they think is Rei's American doppelganger. They actually learn that he's an evil clone and that if they try to rescue Rei from New York, the Gatekeeper will destroy ES. The rest of Rei Rescue Team try to warn Wataru and Shu of this

That's all I got so far <3 shoutout to Robin for the idea of how Wataru gets involved

Also, the reason none of Rei Rescue Team's friends know is because they're trying to keep their investigation a secret.