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dr-charlie-eppes · 4 years ago

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SHOOTING MY SHOT - A RedFinch College AU

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, @kathreestars. I was your Secret Santa as part of the @newsies-secretsanta gift exchange.

I really hope you love your gift. It is a RedFinch College AU, as per your request. I have never written either of these things, so I hope it’s good and in character (but no promises :D!) It turned out WAY longer than expected, too :P. Oopsie daisies!

The story begins below the cut, and I will also include a link to when I have cross-posted AO3 (sometime in January).

Please enjoy!

“Shooting My Shot” - A RedFinch College AU

0000

It was the night before Albert moved out of his childhood home and went to college. He was nervous and excited and rushing through packing his boxes. Sure, he should have done this earlier, but that didn’t matter now. Folding his last sweatshirt into a box, his mind wandered.

Tomorrow was the first day of a new chapter of his life. He was about to move to New York City to study paediatrics, starting his career as a children’s nurse. It was what he’d wanted for years; he was more than happy it was coming true. All the same, he was full of nervous energy. The next few days held so many unknowns. He was struggling to wrap his head around what was going to happen next.

A small mountain of pristine cardboard boxes, a visual representation of what mattered enough to bring with him, lay before him. Each was adorned with a great many strips of duct tape to keep them shut. He hadn’t labelled any of them since he would just unpack them the second he arrived, and he only had to open them to know what was inside. It seemed like a waste of time to go digging through his things to find a Sharpie to deface the boxes.

His phone dinged twice is quick succession. One was from Jack, letting him know he was on his way over from next door. They were travelling to college together in the morning, seeing as they had made it into the same school. The second was from Race, wishing him luck.

Race had been Albert’s best friend since kindergarten. They hadn’t spent more than about three days apart since they met, living in each other’s back pockets and practically joined at the hip for as long as anyone could remember. They had planned on going to the same school, rooming together through college. However, Race had been accepted last minute to his dream school in Brooklyn and was leaving Albert, following his passion for dance. Albert wasn’t mad, not at all; in fact, he was thrilled for his friend. Brooklyn wasn’t that far, so he was sure they’d see each other often. However, without Race, he wasn’t sure who he’d be rooming with.

Continuing to pack his boxes, Albert’s mind wandered to his roommate situation. He was, admittedly, nervous. Without Race, he would be rooming with an unknown student. By the time he’d worked that out, the deadline had passed to submit a request to be paired with someone specific; He would be added to the lottery to be paired up at random with his new roommate. He was worried about that: sharing his space with a whole stranger, stuck together in close quarters, learning to get along. What if he was paired with someone disrespectful, or homophobic, or creepy, or just plain annoying? Albert knew he could be hard to get along with, tending to mistime jokes and miss queues, rubbing people the wrong way. He could sabotage their relationship without even knowing. And even if he didn’t, that didn’t guarantee it’d be smooth sailing. They might not get along, but what could they do? They’d be stuck together for at least two semesters. Dorm rooms were sometimes roomy, but not enough to avoid each other.

The anxiety wasn’t productive: Albert knew that. He couldn’t help it. Change was hard; he didn’t feel ready.

And Jack Kelly was not helping matters. Sure, Jack was one of his best friends - basically a brother, really - but he was an ass. He would do anything to embarrass or inconvenience Albert. That was in part due to their prank war, which had started in ninth grade when Jack replaced his gym shorts with a purple tutu and was still going strong on their first day of college. Of course, he’d never miss an opportunity to get Albert back. Nothing was sacred, no object or situation safe from Jack’s interference. All things considered, Albert should have seen this coming.

Jack offered to help him carry them to the car; there were a few, and it was already late, so Albert accepted. That was his first mistake. Jack took one look at them and started goading him.

“You should label your boxes, Al.” He said as he picked them up.

“No.”

Then, on the landing, “How are you gonna know what’s in ‘em? It’ll be a pain to unpack.”

“I know what I packed, Jack.”

“They look naked without labels.” He whined as they walked out the front door.

“Shut up.”

They started to load them into the car, slotting them in the trunk with the lightest ones on top.

“What kind of psychopath just puts their stuff in a box and closes it up?” Jack questioned with an edge of challenge.

Albert rolled his eyes, taking a medium sized box - possibly containing his desk lamp - and stacking it on top of the others.

“This ain’t a pass-the-parcel, Al, you’re allowed to know what’s in the box.”

“If you don’t shut up, Jackie, so help me, you’ll be trying to run without kneecaps.”

The seemingly endless prods and pokes continued as they loaded all his unlabelled boxes into the car. Jack continued his stream of nonsense, his arguments devolving into snipes and jabs. Albert shut the trunk forcefully, fixing Jack with a look.

“I ain’t labelling ‘em,” he stated with finality, “I know what I packed, and I’ll just unpack when I get there. If they ain’t labelled, Ma can reuse the boxes for something else later without having to scratch the writing out. It’s just easier.”

Jack gave him an unconvinced look but shrugged and let it go. Al should��ve known that was suspicious. Jack never could back down from an argument. Why would this one have been any different?

His second mistake was leaving the car unlocked. They lived in a good area; there wasn’t any reason to lock it. Besides, who would want to steal a bunch of blank boxes full of sweatshirts and towels? However, this turned out to be his downfall. The lock was the only barrier between Jack and his boxes, the last defence. Without needing to steal Al’s mom’s keys, there was nothing standing in his way. He was free to wreak havoc on his things.

His third mistake was not checking his boxes in the morning. They were in a hurry to get on the road - which was not unusual - so Al planned ahead and double checked everything when he brought the boxes down. He knew he had everything he needed, saving time in the morning. Without those last minute checks, he had no chance of catching Jack's little prank before they arrived at the campus.

Jack hadn’t let on that anything had happened. Crammed in the back seat, surrounded by his own boxes and bags, he appeared to the world perfectly angelic. Well, as angelic as Jack Kelly could be. In truth, he was the same snarky and sarcastic man he’d always been, cracking jokes like normal. Albert had no reason to suspect a thing.

So you could imagine his shock and regret when he lifted the trunk to find his boxes, all labelled in Jack’s scratchy block letters with obscene and embarrassing labels. Roadkill - California to Texas. Grandma’s ashes - This way up! (Decorated with arrows pointing to the bottom of the box, naturally). Meditation CDs - Pokémon, Ru Paul, My Little Pony. And right on the top, the Crown Jewels of Jack Kelly’s mayhem: Dildos - Size M-XL.

It was hard to embarrass Albert - it really was. He’d spent his high school years being tormented and humiliated by Jack and had grown a tolerance for this kind of thing. Carrying a box labelled ‘dildos’ across campus was far from the worst thing he’d ever had to do. However, he did worry about what his roommate might think. If he was worried about being paired with a weirdo, others must be too. This was one of those first impressions you couldn’t take back. Joy of joys.

Undeterred, he grabbed the box and braced for impact. Making his way swiftly and unashamedly to his dorm, he ignored the stares and snickers of his peers. Look at my box of dildos, folks. Take it in. They could have guessed that this was a prank, but the surprise of it still caught most of them off guard. Albert pressed on through the crowds, rolling his eyes.

If they can’t tell that this is a joke, then they ain’t smart enough for college.

He just hoped his roommate could see the humour in it.

Speaking of his roommate, he rounded the final corner with his package. The door was slightly ajar, and he could see shadows moving under the door. Taking one final, bracing breath, Albert shuffled the box onto his forearm and pushed the door, embracing his fate.

A trick of timing, the universe’s cruel joke, caused Albert to enter the doorway at the precise moment that his new roommate fired a sticky dart from his Nerf gun. The dart shot through the air. It travelled with a great deal more speed than it should, zipping through the room. No doubt it would have continued into the hall had the doorway been empty. However, it was stopped by Albert’s moving box, adhering at the dead centre of the “O” in dildos.

All movement and sound stopped as Albert looked eyes with his new roommate.

What a first impression.

0000

Moments earlier, Finch had been alone in his dorm. The last few weeks had been a blur of emotions, and he was trying to wrap his mind around it before his new roommate arrived. His first impressions were often lacking, and he hoped that he could start out this relationship on the right foot.

His decision to come to this school had been rushed. Life had spiralled out of control, leaving bad blood between him and his folks. He got an offer to move here to Manhattan, far from them, and he jumped on it. His new life was stretched out in front of him. King of his own destiny, he surveyed his territory. And sure, a cramped college dorm room that he had to share with a stranger wasn’t much of a kingdom. But the hum of the radiator sounded like freedom, and the carpet was soft. He could learn to be happy here.

He was already unpacked, all three of his boxes piled up in the corner. In his hand, he held six plastic Nerf targets. He’d bought them at the dollar store in the ninth grade, using sharpshooting as an escape from life. Since then, his skills had grown, and he frequently moved them around to give himself more of a challenge. Mapping the room, he weighed his options. He was, of course, limited to his side of the room, which made it harder to place them in a way that would challenge him. Still, he was resourceful. And maybe his new friend - he really hoped they would get along - might let him spread them around a bit.

There was one classic place, though. In all the time he’d had these targets, one place stayed constant. He went and hung the first bullseye at the dead centre of the door on the inside. He could hit it with his eyes closed, in his sleep, or with his hands tied behind his back, but he didn’t care. The target on the door had been the most stable relationship he’d had in years, always there, always within reach.

He dumped the rest of the targets on his bed, liberating his Nerf gun from his backpack. It had been his first, and it was the favourite of his whole collection. Modelled like a sawed-off shotgun, it was easy to aim and familiar. He’d carried it with him everywhere since he’d gotten it. This little green and orange eyesore was practically an extra limb, an extension of Finch himself. He’d gotten more high-power guns since, ones that could throw darts faster than he could blink, but he loved this one the best.

Loading in a sticky dart, he aimed for the door and pulled the trigger.

In a statistically remarkable series of events, someone pushed the door open at the precise moment he pulled the trigger. They got in the path of the dart, the new target of the shot. Thankfully, the person was carrying a box - otherwise, they would have been hit square in the chest; not exactly a great first impression. The dart, however, sailed gracefully through the room and stuck to the stranger’s box with a satisfying sticking noise. It lined up perfectly with the writing on the box, centred in the middle of one of the letters. If he’d been aiming for it, Finch would have been impressed with his shot. As it stood, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Bullseye, I guess.

0000

Both men stood, frozen in time. All the sound had been sucked from the room, leaving only a thick silence. Neither was sure what to do to break it. Albert wanted speak - he really did. Wanted to laugh, introduce himself, settle in. However, his mouth was dry, and any words died before they could reach his throat, all systems at a standstill. He couldn’t even walk through the door for fear he would break the spell.

Why? Well, the man in front of him - his new roommate, the one holding the Nerf gun - was insanely hot.

He looked like a Renaissance painting. Classically beautiful, without being plain. A long thin face that reminded Albert distantly of a horse, smooth angles that caught the light and held it. Bright pearlescent teeth and unnaturally brown eyes. He looked as if he had stolen the light from the sun, soaking in its warmth and making it his own. All his brightness and sharpness was contrasted with his soft, green sweatshirt and bare feet, the picture of domesticity. All of it was at odds with the keenness of his shot, the Nerf gun still aimed dangerously at Albert’s chest. Nonetheless, every inch of him was beautiful.

Of all the things he’d been afraid of, falling in love with his roommate was the least expected.

He was suddenly a lot more worried about his first impression.

0000

He needn’t have worried: because on the opposite side of the dorm, the same things were going through Finch’s head.

Finch had always been a sucker for a redhead; the man in front of him, with his strikingly fiery curls, was no exception. Every line of his face was beautiful - from the creases around his eyes to his goofy grin. His eyes were a sweet brown, like Nutella or hot cocoa, deep and inviting. They caught the light like a Pokémon trainer catches them all. His lips were pulling slowly out of a grin into a shocked gape. Even in his confusion, he was breathtaking. His arms cradled his moving box like Cupid cradles his bow - invitingly and full of undiscovered love. His legs were obviously strong, judging by the way his jeans were stretched over them.

Finch couldn’t move or breathe or look away. He needed to lower his Nerf gun, introduce himself and explain, something, anything. Instead, he stood, transfixed and in awe. If this man were the moon, then Finch were the tides - unable to move without his say-so. His every thought was directed by this beautiful stranger.

His new roommate.

His roommate.

His.

That snapped him out of it.

0000

The beautiful stranger cleared this throat.

“Sorry!”

“Nice shot,” whispered Albert.

The stranger smiled, brushing the back of his neck. He spoke again.

“Uh, hi?”

Albert nodded. That was exactly what he’d been trying to say.

“Hi.”

A moments more of silence settled around them. Neither was entirely sure how to come back from that introduction, and both were too transfixed by the other to risk saying the wrong thing.

Albert eventually found his courage. Shuffling his moving box onto one arm, he extended his hand in greeting.

“I’m Albert.”

Tossing his Nerf gun to his bed, the stranger followed suit.

“Patrick, but the guys back home called me Finch.”

“Why 'Finch'?” Albert asked.

“I put a bird in the principal’s office 'cause he was homophobic,” the boy - Finch - shrugged, “It’s my greatest achievement to date.”

Albert didn’t know if he could fall more in love than he was already. His heart felt like it might explode. This adorable, Nerf-gun shooting, homophobe-hating man was all he could think about. He was distantly aware that he needed to bring his stuff in from the car, needed to put down the dildo box and unpack, but he was happy just standing in the doorway watching Finch.

However, his standing was misinterpreted by his new crush, who suddenly smacked his forehead and stepped to the side.

“Oh, sorry, I’m totally blocking the way. Come in.” He swept his hands to the side like a waiter, ushering Albert in.

He took his chance, stepping in and putting his box on the empty bunk. It tipped merrily onto one side, revealing another of Jack’s secret messages. Albert flopped his head back with a groan. Finch caught sight of the new scribble as well. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

Albert excused himself to get the rest of his boxes from the car, but also so he could get some fresh air. Finch was beautiful and badass. He was unlike any other guy Albert had met. If he blew his chance with him, well, he’d never forgive himself. He might be getting ahead of himself, but he kept wondering what Finch might look like in a tux and what song their first dance would be to. His mom had always called him a hopeless romantic, so had Jack. He was inclined to agree. He loved the idea of falling in love and marrying his favourite person ever, having a husband to share life’s moments with. And yeah, he’d only known Finch for ten minutes, but every fibre of his being seemed to think this guy was the perfect candidate.

He daydreamed all the way back to the dorm, trying to think of something charming to say to Finch. A pickup line? Or maybe some poetry. Where was Jack when you needed him? That man could charm the pants off of anyone. Although, from memory, he and Davey met when Jack accidentally tipped his paint water out over the art room balcony and all over Davey’s head.

As he stepped through the door of his dorm, he took a breath and prepared to ask Finch out. However, his new roommate was already speaking, pointing at the box on his bed.

“Okay, I gotta ask-“

“-It’s not dildos, I swear,” Albert cut him off.

“-who defaced your box?”

“Oh.” Wasn’t expecting that. “Um, Jack. Pain in my ass.”

Finch nodded, snickering, and gestured the box in Albert’s arms. This one read TIME MACHINE - DISASSEMBLED.

“So is he ya boyfriend or something?”

“Oh, fuck no.” Albert laughed - imagine him dating Jack, yuck - and clarified, “He’s sorta my brother? Lived next door to me and my Ma. He’s just up the hall now, helping Davey unpack.”

“Davey?”

“Jack’s boyfriend,” Albert shrugged. He wondered what Davey saw in Jack but decided not to think too hard. Davey was a least twice as smart as Albert would ever be; he would have his reasons. He expressed this to Finch, who laughed and offered a similar anecdote about a friend called Spot who was dating some extroverted Manhattan twink with a sarcastic streak a mile wide.

“They’re perfect for each other because no one can understand them,” Finch smiled, “the peanut butter and jelly of people.”

They continued to laugh and talk about their friends, bonding over their weird friends with weirder names.

Albert ducked out for more boxes. He moved every crass title from his car to his dorm, unpacking them as he went to discover their real contents. Finch offered the help him carry them back to his mom’s car when they were empty.

On the way, he asked about Jack’s prank again.

“So, Jack’s a prankster?”

Albert nodded, “Yeah, we’ve had a prank war going since the ninth grade.”

“War, huh?” Finch raised an eyebrow. “How you’re gonna get him back?”

“No idea yet, but it’s gonna be big.”

Finch was sure that it would be. He told Albert as such.

“Let me know if you’ll be wanting help,” he smiled, playfully elbowing his ribs, “I’m a sharpshooter, after all.”

Albert wasn’t sure how that would come in handy, but he filed it away for later use.

0000

In their first week together, they circled around each other, teasing and testing. It was an easy tension of learning each other’s habits and personalities.

As it turned out, Finch was a troublemaker. With his keen eye and trained aimed, he and his Nerf gun could wreak all kinds of havoc. Albert found himself stuck with more darts than he’d ever seen. He learned to listen for the quiet ‘snick’ sound of the gun being loaded, hyper aware of the bright orange darts as they landed around him.

Finch used his talents for good, sometimes, shooting bananas off the hand with a carefully modified ‘knife dart’ - which turned out to be a Nerf dart with a straightened out paper clip in it. He could also switch the lights off from his bunk with one flick of the trigger. Both were pretty cool tricks, but Al found himself loving Finch’s cheeky moves more.

He had returned to the dorm after class to find that Finch had used his posters as target practice, using strategically placed darts to block out certain letters and leave crude messages for him. The next day, he was greeted with a flurry of darts as he entered the room, Finch raining down on him with his most quick-firing gun. He also left Albert notes on the dorm door, where anyone could read them - thanks for letting me borrow your toothbrush! and Adam from the butt-lift place called - they can fix your pancake butt! and Where’s the haemorrhoid cream?

Albert loved it. In return, he reset Finch’s ringtones to weird and embarrassing sounds and short-sheeted his bed. He also stole Finch’s hats and sweatshirts, basically combining their wardrobes into one mega-wardrobe. He also replaced all of Finch’s stationery with sticks of gum, which turned out to be less of a prank and more of a genius ice-breaking hack.

They grew closer. All the pranks led to them getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes, their insecurities and routines. The more Albert learnt, the more he wanted to know. Finch was becoming his best friend. The crush he was nursing grew into a warm and unexplainable thing. Each passing day brought new moments of friendship and growth. Finch challenged him, distracted him, entertained him. He was bright and annoying, glued to his hip like a loyal puppy and floating around him. Albert grew to love his company, loved how he would ask questions while you studied - that was more helpful than he could have known, helping Albert to identify the gaps in his knowledge. Finch was the puzzle piece he had been missing.

Finch felt the same, although Albert didn’t know that. He loved the way that Albert would respond to his cheek and snark with jibes of his own. Albert enjoyed his pranks and put thought and time into retaliating. He was quieter than Finch, happy to just share the room with you without needing conversation to fill the void. He seemed to light up when Finch asked him questions, explaining the complex medical topics he was learning. He was full of adrenaline and grace, not often static. Finch found himself following Albert’s movements when he paced, drawn in. Albert was his muse. He couldn’t get enough of the beautiful redhead.

0000

At the opening of their second week, Albert returned to their dorm with a twinkle in his eye and a bagel in his hand. Finch, with Nerf gun in hand, shot a dart into the hole of the bagel.

“You!” Pointed Albert.

“Me?” Questioned Finch playfully.

“How would you like to help me get back at Jack?”

Finch nodded, “I’m in. What’s the play?”

As it turned out, Jack had planned a secret date for Davey. They hadn’t had a lot of time since coming to college, so Jack wanted to do something nice. He’d told Albert that he and Davey were going to have a picnic on the sports fields in the evening. Super romantic, at least it was supposed to be.

“I want to crash their party,” explained Albert, “but I need your help.”

He then explained that they needed a way to get in and out fast. If they lingered, Jack’s wrath would rain down upon them. Speed is of the element, Finchy, Albert had said. Luckily, Albert had become sort-of friends with one of the security guards. This guard, Denton, agreed to ‘accidentally’ leave the keys in one of the school’s golf carts for their use. As long as they returned it in one piece, no one would be the wiser.

“Where do I come in, Al?”

“I want you to get your best Nerf gun -one o’ those ones that shoot really fast. While I'm driving, I want you to spray ‘em with darts. I got some toilet paper to throw. I just didn’t think that was enough. Plus, you’ve got a wicked sense of aim. I could use a little help.”

It was a solid plan. Like Jack’s box prank, it wouldn’t hurt anyone. Albert assured him Davey would think it was funny too. He was almost as much a part of the war as Jack or Albert. If anything, he'd take it as an invitation to get his own revenge. No one’s day’s gonna be ruined.

“I’m your guy,” smiled Finch, “when do we start.”

“We ride at six. Wear something stealthy.”

0000

Six o'clock rolled around quickly. Finch had ducked out to the dollar store, picking up some more sticky darts. When he returned, he found Albert. His crazy roommate was dressed like a cartoon cat-burglar, complete with a black turtleneck and war paint. He was hastily stuffing toilet rolls into his backpack. They were armed to the teeth with Nerf darts, toilet paper, and biodegradable party confetti.

“Looking good, Al,” laughed Finch.

He was also dressed for the occasion, a mismatched all-black ensemble. He even opted for some fingerless gloves he saw at the store. He had never been one to half-ass a prank. Besides, going all out might impress Albert.

“Ready?”

“Born ready, Finch.”

“Funny, I thought you were born ‘Albert.’”

A roll of toilet paper hit him in the head.

0000

The plan was in motion.

Denton had left the cart parked by the dormitories. They were set to go, just waiting for confirmation that Jack was in position. Sure enough, Davey posted a sappy picture on his Snapchat story, toting Jack’s merits as a caring boyfriend. They were clearly on the sports field, spread out on an honest-to-goodness checked rug, picnic basket and all. The sunset painted pastel lines behind them.

As the light of sunset faded to night, they started up the cart. Crammed in with the ammo and a truly gigantic nerf gun, Albert and Finch were pressed into each other’s sides. Unbeknownst to them, both were enjoying the contact, pining for more than just the necessary contact of the cart. They drove at agonisingly slow speeds towards the sports fields, staying in the cover of the shadows of the campus. If they were caught, it would all be over. Luckily, the pair thrived on adrenaline.

Their trip to the sports fields was short and silent. Albert couldn’t help but hold his breath as if the sound of it might give their location away. It didn’t occur to him that the sounds of the cart would get them caught before his breathing would. Finch kept directing him with hand signals, guiding the cart through a maze of secret tunnels that kept them hidden.

Eventually, the great secrecy of it all got the better of them. Albert could picture them, both dressed like the bad guys in a cartoon spy movie, zooming through the campus with reckless abandon. They weren’t going fast at all - he thought it might not even bruise if he fell out of the cart. But here they were, leaning and ducking with each move as if they were in a Fast and Furious movie. Finch was holding onto the roof to stabilise himself. They were surrounded be a hoard of completely harmless weapons, yet they acted as if they were heading into a war. That last thought, along with the image of what they must look like, cause Albert to giggle.

Once.

Twice.

A snort.

Then Finch started.

Their silent voyage was overrun with laughter. Finch was shaking, trying to contain his sounds. Albert was hiccuping out barks of laughter. The noise grew until it drowned out the hum of engines. Try as they might, there was no stopping it. Tears filled Albert’s eyes. Finch took hold of the wheel and directed the cart as he snorted. They continued on, the most joyful caravan in the country. They couldn’t stop their noise until they saw the sports fields.

It was a bracing and sobering experience. Two weeks of thinking and planning had led them to this. The importance of their mission overcame their joy. They pulled their adrenaline back in, the noise level dropping below the noise of the cart. It was time.

The light from the fake tea light candles on the rug guided them. A moment of quiet and a few hand gestures revealed that there would be no way to sneak up on them. The cart was too big, the moon too bright. The element of surprise would be lost too quickly if they approached cautiously. Albert made the motion for ‘step on it’, pressing his palm out in front of him. Finch nodded. Mouthing the words, Albert counted down from three. He threw the golf cart into gear, shredding across the lawn at max speed.

The pickup in speed caused them both to shout. Any semblance of sneaking in was abandoned as Albert and Finch began a deafening war cry of whooping and cheering. They bounced across the field, the cart shaking with effort. One hand on the wheel, Albert loaded himself with a roll of toilet paper. Finch aimed his Nerf scope, fixed on the happy couple.

Jack caught sight of them too late.

“ALBERT!”

A shower of Nerf darts cut off his cries. Albert hit him square in the chest with a roll of paper. Davey, shocked and excited, burst out gleefully at the shower of multicoloured confetti, picking up handfuls and tossing them at his boyfriend.

The drive-by took only a few seconds. There was chaos as they unloaded all they had at Albert’s friends. It would long be remembered as the highlight of the whole prank war. The picnic rug, previously set out romantically with breadsticks and candles, was now littered with darts and rolls of paper and a sprinkling of reflective paper strips. It was glorious. Strangely, it looked like the leftover mess from a child’s birthday party. In Albert’s eyes, this was perfect revenge.

“That’s for the boxes, Kelly!” He screamed as they sped off.

The cart barrelled across the fields and out of sight, leaving Jack and Davey in its wake. The boys, happy with their successful mission, tore off into the night in fits of giggles once more. They didn’t stop until they were well out of sight. Only when they had pulled the cart to a stop outside the security office did they finally calm down.

Pressed close and sweating awfully, they breathed through the rush of adrenaline. The whole evening had come to a crescendo. They both smiled, calming down.

“That was awesome,” Albert laughed, “Thank you, Finchy.”

Finch slung an arm around him, “Always, Al.”

They stayed intertwined for a second. Albert liked the feel of being so close to Finch, tucked into his chest safe and warm. He didn’t want to pull away, but he was becoming more aware of how close they were. This was closer than friends. He was sure Finch knew that.

Pulling back, he looked to his roommate.

“Finch?”

“Hmm?”

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He was going to say something.

“Would ya like it if we-“

He was cut off by Finch’s lips on his.

Oh, yeah, let’s do that.

His brain went offline, surprised by the kiss. Finch’s lips were dry from the cold night air but soft and cool against his own. He could feel the flush of Finch’s cheeks. He gasped through his noise - a noise of shock and approval.

Finch pulled back as he tried to reciprocate. He looked him cautiously in the eyes.

“I sure hope I didn’t read that wrong.”

Albert chuckled. He pulled him in by the shirt, nearly tipping Finch out of the cart with his enthusiasm. This kiss was perfect. Longer and deeper than the other, they were chest to chest by the end. They weren’t yet used to this motion, so their chins and noses bumped as they moved, prompting little giggles between their lips. It was the happiest kiss Albert had ever had. Finch was warm and close and all his for a few moments.

Finch bit his nip with a mock growl, pulling back to smile at him. Albert looked flushed and overwhelmed. However, the smile that split his face betrayed his emotions.

“I hope that’s my last first kiss ever,” Finch whispered.

Albert looked shocked, but his smile didn’t fade.

“Okay,” he nodded.

They tumbled out of the cart a minute later. They knew that wasn’t the end of it. Finch was sure he wanted to marry Albert, but there was more to do. They needed to get to know each other more and finish college and meet each other’s families. They weren’t at the end yet, but this was a damn good place to start.

They walked back to the dorm with hands intertwined. No matter what happened next, Albert knew this was the start of a beautiful life.

0000

He was right, too. He and Finch got married six years later, after college. Never had there been a better couple, better friends, or better lovers. They had grown into the most badass and unstoppable team.

They drove away from their wedding with cans tied to the back of a golf cart.

0000

Again, happy holidays and seasons greetings, @kathreestars. Hope this is everything you hoped for. Best wishes, Corbin.

#Newsies!#newsies secret santa #for @kathreestars #gift exchange 2020 #redfinch #Albert Dasilva/Finch #college AU

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maki0725 · 5 years ago

Text

Klavquill 1-8

The more I write, the more difficult it’s become to make dialogues. In Japanese edition Klavier was in the U.S. to study and he got the prosecutor’s badge in there, but he uses few English words in dialogues (the only phrase I remember is “Let’s rock!”, maybe it is replaced with “Achtung, baby!”). I might have to put in more German words but I don’t know German language at all and it’s quite difficult to write their dialogues in English (also in Japanese...)

By the way seeing first sunrise is popular in Japan, it feels special but it’s cold outside in winter, there are fewer people who go to see it actually than first visit. Though it feels more special if you go to see it actually with someone special.

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

Athena gets off the car in front of a rather old apartment. It is located so much far from the train station but she doesn’t mind the distance, she rather enjoy it for the physical training.

“Have a good night! Apollo, take care of yourself, please come back again soon!”

She goes actively, it’s bliss for Simon that Athena is fine and happy.

The large-sized car starts going again with the engine sound. It takes some time to drive to the suburb airport even through the highways.

The seat is warm and shaking comfortably, a mysterious female voice song is playing. Simon’s conscience is just like floating and he realizes he has never felt relaxed in these days when he rides in a car. A little alcohol from the bottled Sake helps him to fall half-asleep though he can hear Apollo’s controlled voice.

“Don’t you play your music?”

“You don’t like it, I think”

Gavin replies calmly.

“This is Lamiroir’s new album, have you listened?”

“Oh, I didn’t know it was released”

“I’m not sure if it’s available in Khura’in, you can take this. I’ve already done the digitalization”

“......Thank you”

Simon doesn’t know “Lamiroir” but Apollo seems to know the musician(Simon assumes).

“......And, thank you for giving me a ride”

“Don’t worry, It was me who just wanted to stay with you”

It’s been ages, Gavin says. He and Apollo Justice have an old score to settle in a way though they seem to have built a kind of friendship.

“Well......as long as you can say”

Apollo’s voice is lowered.

“I’d like to know how the phantom case is going”

Simon is given a start like being grabbed his heart.

“I’ve heard that the trial won’t be held in Japan though I don’t know where. In the Hague?”

“......I don’t think ICC deals with it”

Gavin replies that he doesn’t know well quietly.

“You know prosecutor Von Karma takes that case”

“......Yeah”

“Then, I can say nothing more. It is a top secret and actually I don’t know about it”

“So does prosecutor Blackquill?”

“I don’t know but......should we ask?”

Simon’s heart gets pounding.

“Well......no, he doesn’t know or he can’t say about it, I suppose. I’m not even a member of the bereaved family”

Apollo is right, Simon wants to know for anything. Apollo exudes his chagrin. How the unreasonable loss of his bestfriend suffer him? Gavin’s voice sounds gentle but a teasing tone appears.

“By the way, do you think he’s sleeping?”

“Oh is he awake!?”

Apollo looks back in a hurry and Simon pretends to be asleep. He doesn’t care Apollo’s bracelet notices.

Though it might be cheat, he can’t talk about the phantom case to Apollo right now. If he could have believed Athena and the whole judicial system enough in the UR-1 case, the phantom might have been arrested at that time and Clay Terran ——and Bobby Fulbright—— might be alive now. One year ago, the world he had believed collapsed and his self-consciousness could just let the revealed truths and the radical change of the environment go past, but he has started suffering from the regret and the guilty consciousness after some time. He shouldn’t get stuck in there but he doesn’t know what to do exactly. He decided not to hide the truth never again but it should have been a matter of course for prosecutors. He feels himself not to be qualified to be a prosecutor in a way.

Luckily, Apollo and Gavin continue talking without noticing what Simon feels.

“If I had known you went abroad, I should have seen you more, even if a little bit forcefully”

“I think you tried hard enough, Trucy said that she felt lonely as you didn’t come often like before since last summer”

“...... I was just a little bit busy”

It was true, the prosecutor’s office has been a shortage of prosecutors so he and Simon are always very busy. Though it hadn’t changed around Apollo’s leave.

“......I certainly feel it is not as easy as before to go to the office without you”

“There are only girls and Mr. Wright. But I think you are good at treating girls”

“I don’t know, Fraulein detective still hates me”

It reminds Simon of the event a few days ago. She meant not to insult Gavin seriously but he couldn’t keep silence.

“Ema often complains about Nahyuta in Khura’in”

“He likes her so much, doesn’t he? I’ve heard that she is there today, it’s ideal for her to be able to improve her scientific skill as much as she wants”

“I saw her for a short time today in Khura’in, I didn’t tell her that Nahyuta said he planned to have her come to the new year ceremony at the top of Mt. Poni-poni”

Apollo sounds sympathetically.

“Oh, I assume she’s on the top of the mountain right now”

Gavin chuckles, he might be imagining Ema astonished.

“By the way, con priests get married?”

“Yeah, they can......what, Ema and Nahyuta? Hmmm......”

Apollo seems to be sunk in thought but he shakes his head like he shakes it off. He might not want to imagine his brother’s love life.

“By the way, why is Blackquill coming with us? He doesn’t look like a type who wants to say goodbye at the airport”

“He is going to come to my place and stay”

“Really!? You......you are actually close”

“I’m not sure we are close, but, have you heard of the event a while ago?”

“Y-Yeah”

The members seemed to tell him as Simon thought. There is nothing to worry when Apollo knows it but it’s a little embarrassing.

“Well...... I’m sorry”

“What?”

Gavin’s voice is always calm.

“I said...... I hate your music”

“Oh that’s it? No worries, some people don’t like my music, it’s quite natural. I don’t like being lied about it”

“Though...... I might be able to choose a manner of speaking that hurt you less”

You have been always kind to us like this.

Apollo’s voice lowers. He is always kind, to everyone, anytime——

“Why do you say such a thing suddenly, are you scared of Prosecutor Blackquill?”

Gavin laughs teasingly.

“No, it’s not that”

I......just a thought, Apollo says, his voice is quite but clear.

“Hmm, it’s a little boring, you’ve grown up Herr Forehead?”

He says that like nothing and laughs.

Though, he cried certainly when Simon protected him.

“I’m glad that you have a friend now”

“You’ve thought I’m so lonely?”

Of course Gavin has so many friends. He and Simon rarely join the same gatherings because of the pressure of business and Gavin’s estrangement from the WAA as Apollo said, but he talks to Simon casually when they happen to meet in the prosecutor’s office in spite of Simon’s intimidating appearance and they have exchanged phone numbers before Simon knew by Gavin’s high social skill. They must be all usual things to Gavin, even inviting Simon to his house. He can’t take it as a big deal.

Although, why is it painful to him that Gavin is kind to everyone?

The airport is crowded but it gets rather empty way past the midnight. Maybe because there are few flights that depart around the same time as the one to Khura’in.

They have some time before Apollo heads to the departure gate but they can’t find affordable coffee shop or something, they sit on a bench with cans of coffee in their hands.

“How’s your hometown?”

“Well......I think nothing has been changed as for the nature and food......or something. I’m too busy to go around”

“I’m happy to hear your business is going well.

Though I think you’re working so hard”

“Ah......I’m sorry not to keep in touch”

“It’s okay with me but contact the girls more often, they looked so happy today”

“......I see. Then, I got to go”

“Take care”

After seeing Apollo off, Simon and Gavin are just two of them. Simon tries to ask him a kind of question.

“That’s unbelievable to have refrained from drinking, what did you do if Justice-dono had rejected your suggestion?”

Gavin smiles brightly after a few blinking.

“Then, I was planning to go to see the first sunrise with you”

Simon doesn’t feel bad about his selfish decision. Has he foreseen that Simon would think so?

“To be honest, I haven’t seen it properly. I searched some places though”

Gavin leads Simon to the large glass window side.

“We can see it from here”

The clouds is taking on the glow of the sunrise.

“Beautiful”

Gavin admires the sunrise. Several golden hair are sticking out of his beanie.

(To see the first sunrise together!)

(Like having him all to yourself)

Simon sounds Trucy again. He should look at the sunrise, not Gavin, Simon tells himself.

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

いささか古びたマンションの前で心音を降ろす。鉄道の駅からはかなり遠いが、彼女の健脚にかかれば何も問題はないらしいーーむしろ、「足腰の鍛錬になる」とのことだった。

「それでは、今日はありがとうございました！　先輩、どうかお元気で！また帰ってきてくださいね！」

元気よく心音が去る。彼女が健康で幸せであれば、夕神としては無上の喜びだった。

大型のSUVはエンジン音を立て、再び走り出す。最寄りのインターチェンジから高速道路に入り、郊外の国際空港まではそれなりの距離がある。

座面の温もりと程よい振動に意識が浮遊する。カーステレオからは神秘的な雰囲気の女性ボーカルが流れていた。車に乗って寛いだ気分になった覚えが近年まるでないことに改めて気づく。ちびちびと舐めていたコップ酒のアルコールも手伝い、いつにないことに、眠りに落ちかかっていた夕神の耳に、王泥喜の抑えた声が届いた。

「……アンタの曲、かけないんですか」

「だって、好みじゃないだろ？キミの」

牙琉が穏やかに答える。

「ラミロアさんの新しいアルバムだよ、キミもう聞いた？」

「えっそんなの出てるんですか」

「クラインでも買えるのかな？良かったらこのCD持っていっていいよ、ぼくデジタルに落としたし」

「……ありがとうございます」

夕神にはラミロアなる人物ーーどうやら歌手らしいーーが誰なのか分からなかったが、王泥喜には馴染みがあるようだ。

「あと……ありがとうございます、乗せてくれて」

「気にしないで。ぼくが、もう少しキミといたかっただけだよ」

本当に久しぶりだね、と感慨深そうに牙琉が言った。王泥喜と彼とはある意味因縁の相手であるはずだが、一種の友情すら築いていたらしい。

「あの……言える範囲で、いいんですけど」

王泥喜の声のトーンが下がる。

「亡霊の事件って、どうなったんですか」

心臓を掴まれたように、夕神はギクリとする。

「日本じゃ裁判しないって聞いたんですけど、どこでやるのかも分からなくて。ハーグですか？」

「……ICCの取り扱いじゃないんじゃないかな」

ぼくもよく知らないんだよ、と抑えた調子で牙琉が言う。

「狩魔冥検事が担当してるのは知ってるよね」

「……はい」

「そうすると、ぼくが言えるのはここまでかな。極秘で、ぼくも本当に知らないんだよ」

「ユガミ検事もですか」

「……分からないけど……聞いてみるかい？」

心臓が跳ねる。

「いえ……知らないか、言えないかのどっちかでしょ。オレは遺族でもないですし」

実際その通りだった。夕神とて知れるものなら何を差し出してでも知りたかった。王泥喜の口調には悔しさが滲んでいる。親友を理不尽に失った悲しみは如何ばかりのものだろう。牙琉の声にも労りが感じ取れたが、ふと悪戯な揶揄いが混じった。

「ところでキミ、彼が寝てると思ってる？」

「えっ、起きてます⁉︎」

王泥喜が慌てて後ろを振り向く。夕神は眠っているふりをする。こういうことに例の腕輪が反応するのかは知らない。

卑怯だとは思いつつ、王泥喜と亡霊の話をする自信がなかった。あの時、夕神が心音を、司法を信用していれば亡霊は直ちに捕らえられ、葵大地も——番刑事も、運命は変わっていたかもしれない。一年前、自分の信じていたものが崩壊し、引き続いて明らかになった真実や環境の激変に耐えることが精一杯だった夕神の自意識は、ある程度の時間を経て、悔恨や自責の念に蝕まれつつあった。それだけに浸っているわけにはいかないが、そこから脱する術が分からない。二度と真実を隠さないと誓ったものの、本来、そんなことは検事なら当然なのだ。夕神はある意味検事としては落伍者のように感じていた。

幸いと言うべきか、王泥喜と牙琉は夕神に構わず会話を続けていた。

「キミが海外に行っちゃうって分かってたら、もっと無理してでも会っておくんだったよ」

「……十分、無理してたんじゃないんですか？　みぬきちゃんが、夏からあんたがめっきり顔見せなくなったって、寂しがってましたよ」

「……ちょっと忙しかったからね」

それは確かだ。検事局の人員不足で、彼も夕神も��忙を極めていた。だが、それは王泥喜の出発前から変わりはない。

「……確かに、成歩堂弁護士さんのところ、少し行きにくくはなったかな。キミがいないとね」

「成歩堂さんと、あと女の子しかいませんからね。でもアンタ、女の子のあしらい得意でしょ？」

「さあね。刑事クンにはすっかり嫌われてるけどね」

数日前の出来事が夕神の脳裏をよぎる。彼女とて、本気で牙琉を侮辱する気ではなかっただろう。それでも、黙っていられなかった。

「アカネさん、クラインではよくナユタの愚痴言ってますよ」

「気に入られてるんだろう？　彼女も、そっちで科学捜査の腕を磨けて最高じゃないか。今日もあっちだろ？」

「オレと入れ違いでちらっと会いましたけど、ナユタがポニポニ山の上で年越しする行事に参加してもらうって言ってたことは伝えてません」

王泥喜の声には同情が滲んでいた。

「そうか、じゃあちょうど今山の上かな？」

愕然とする茜を想像してか、牙琉が少し笑う。

「ちなみに僧侶って妻帯できるの？」

「できますよ……って、ナユタとアカネさんがですか⁉︎ うーん……」

王泥喜は考え込んでいるらしい。しばらく無言だったが、彼としては義兄の恋愛沙汰をあまり想像したくなかったのか、考えを振り切るように首を振る。

「ところで、なんでユガミ検事もいるんですか？わざわざオレを送りたがる気もしませんけど」

「これから、うちに泊まりに来るんだよ」

「エッ⁉︎ ほ、本当に仲いいんですね」

「仲いいかは分からないけど……もしかして仕事納めのこと聞いたの？」

「え、ええ」

やはりあの事務所の連中が王泥喜にも伝えていたらしい。別に知られて困るわけではないが、少しばかりの気恥ずかしさはあった。

「あの……すみませんでした」

「何がだい？」

牙琉の声は、いつも穏やかだ。

「アンタの曲……嫌いなんて言って」

「何だい、そんなの……仕方ないじゃないか、そりゃ嫌いな人だっているよ。嘘つかれたらその方がイヤだよ」

「でも、アンタを傷つけない言い方だってあったかもしれないのに」

——アンタはいつだって、こんな風に親切だったのに。

王泥喜の声がくぐもる。そう、彼は親切だ。いつだって、誰にだって————

「どうしたの、夕神検事が怖くなったの？」

からかうように牙琉が笑う。

「いえ……別にそういうわけじゃありません」

ただ……ふと思ったんで。王泥喜の声は小さくも明瞭だ。

「へえ。オトナになったおデコくんなんてつまらないな」

何でもないことのように言って、笑う。

それでも、夕神に庇われて、彼は泣いていた————

「……良かったですね、友達ができて」

「キミ、そんなにぼくが孤独だと思ってたの？」

それはもちろん、牙琉にはたくさんの友人がいるのだろう。多忙と、王泥喜の言うとおり、彼の出発以降牙琉が成歩堂の事務所に出入りしなくなったことを合わせてか、集まりに同席することはほとんどなかったが、検事局内で顔を合わせた際には夕神の出で立ちに臆することなく気軽に話しかけて来たし、牙琉の社交スキルにつられていつの間にか連絡先も交換していた。それもこれも、夕神を家に誘ったことだって、おそらく彼からしたら何でもないことなのだろう。大袈裟に取る方がおかしい。

それなのに、彼が誰にでも優しいことが苦しく思えるのは何故なのだろう。

年越しとあって空港は賑わっていたが、真夜中となれば多少落ち着きが出ているようだった。クライン行きと同じ時間帯の出発便が少ないせいもあるだろう。王泥喜が出発ゲートをくぐるまでには少し時間があったが、入れそうな店もなく、飲み物だけを買ってベンチに腰掛ける。

「故郷はどう？」

「そうですね……変わってない、ような気がします。忙しすぎて、あちこち行く暇もないんですけど」

「千客万来なら結構なことじゃないか。といっても、色々立て直しで大変なんだろうけど」

王泥喜はコーヒーを啜る。

「そうですね……連絡、全然できてなくてすみません」

「ぼくはいいけど、お嬢さんたちには連絡してあげなよ、今日は本当に楽しそうだったね」

「……そうですね。それじゃ、そろそろ行きます」

「達者でな」

出発ゲートに向かう王泥喜を見送ると、牙琉と二人になる。夕神はささやかな疑問をぶつけてみることにした。

「おめェさんよォ、禁酒までしてご苦労なこったが、泥の字が断ったらどうする��だったんだ」

数度瞬きをして、牙琉がにっこりと笑う。

「その時は、キミと初日の出でも見に行こうかなって」

勝手に予定を決められていても、何故か悪い気はしなかった。彼は、夕神がそう感じることまで見越していたのだろうか？

「実は、あんまり見たことないんだよね。一応、場所もいくつか調べてはみたんだけどさ」

牙琉はそう言って、空港の大きな窓際に夕神を導く。

「ここから、見えるね」

滑走路の向こうで、山の木々と、空の境目が橙色に染まっていく。ちょうど日が昇るころだった。

「綺麗だね」

牙琉がうっとりと呟く。黒いニット帽の際から、金色の後れ毛がいくらか覗いている。

（初日の出を一緒に見ることです！）

（独り占めって感じですよね）

みぬきの声が蘇る。彼ではなく、日の出を見るべき時だと、夕神は自分に言い聞かせた。

#klavquill #klavquill 1 #klavier gavin #simon blackquill

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sherryaptx4869 · 6 years ago

Text

Making it through love

It’s GinTae month!

Behold, a very short compilation of GinTae moments from the Gintama manga, anime and movie. Try as I might, I cannot do justice for the pair by words because to borrow a line from Westlife’s Home, “the words are cold and flat, and they deserve more than that.” So I looked for pictures detailing in a nutshell why GinTae (aside from OkiKagu) is my OTP. Since they have a lot like really a lot! of moments (aka they know each other heart by heart), I just chose from my pile of screenshots to accurately depict the prompt given which is kind of hard because the prompts blur and overlap with each other. Take these with a grain of salt, because the context of the episode where I took it from might not exactly be as romantic as I want it to be. Remember, this is fan-made. Fanon is not canon. But I wonder about that in this case because the Easter egg hints came directly from the creator of the series himself haha I’m also proud to say that no fan arts are included here to drive my point home that Gintoki and Tae are as canon as we can get from Sorachi very close to being married officially.

This is just the tip of the GinTae iceberg that will sink other ships. This does not capture the entirety of GinTae moments in the manga, anime, movie, OVA, live-action movie and even the audio CDs. Treat this as a preview of many GinTae moments.

For now, I hope you have fun with this one as much as I did when I was scouring my hoard of Gintama images. This is dedicated to all the GinTae fans. If you don’t like this content, just ignore then scram. Credits go to Sorachi-sensei and to the production of the anime where I took the screenshots from.

First Meeting: Watch out! Your soulmate might just appear from behind you while riding your scooter!

Realization: If love is the answer, could you please rephrase the question (as manifested by Gintoki and Tae time and time again from the start of the series up to this point).

The Reveal: Put a ring on it! It must be great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life.

Date: Put your best foot forward!

Reminder: Booze and sweet stuff for both the lady and the gent.

New to the Family: A pretty serious relationship with someone long-term requires an introduction to the family. And whoah! There’s a whole spectrum of shenanigans they get into.

Jealousy: (Play Nick Jonas’s Jealous for the feels haha) It’s not Gin-san’s fault that the ladies hover. But it is Tae’s every right to be hellish because she’s (*whispers*) jealous the wife.

As for Gin-san… he’s making his fist and his dirty tricks do the talking to protect the woman he cared about. (Look at Kagura’s unimpressed face (and Shinpachi’s shrieking) haha, I bet the paragon of adult wisdom she considered to be Gintoki just crumbled to dust.)

Laughter: Sometimes your silver samurai turns out to be just an idiot perm-haired samurai.

First Kiss: Exactly what it sounds like— but no, there are no kisses in the anime. Paging Hattori Zenzo, please tell us since you saw the whole exchange

Thirdwheeling: Come with us, they said. It would be fun they said. Tag yourself, am I being extra?

Flustered: The sweetness of strawberry parfait oozing out of the Smeggy Samurai’s words and gestures makes him sappy with Pony-chan whose cheeks are tinted with blush yihee *heart*

Rest: Gin-san resting before he gets tired lols. But hey, it’s usually the Kodokan Dojo, the Shimura’s residence where Gintoki lounges about. We also see Tae checking up on the Yorozuya trio regularly as well as to pay her respects to Gintoki’s mom figure- Otose.

Shopping: GinTae shopping for clothes together. Two years later, it is also while shopping for clothes that Tae through a series of unfortunate events brought home Gin-san (and Hijikata) wearing undies on his face.

Food: It’s not only love that is shared, also carbs.

Cherry blossom viewing (Hanami): The Sakata family wringing the beauty out of life. They seize the day over bento boxes (courtesy of Mom Tae) and sake-filled glasses (courtesy of Dadtoki). Of course, the day is completed with a showdown with their frienemy the Shinsengumi. And to cap the day off, look at the reverence and fondness the three are giving to Gin-san.

Rainy Day: Rainy days won’t keep our Queen of Kabuki-cho from hanging out with her family. Mom Tae even had a bento prepared. How thoughtful and sweet!

Super Powers: Plagiarize your way to success. In real life, don’t! It’s a crime. Here is Dragon Ball x Bleach x One Piece = DragonBleaPiece. Yeah, only in Gintama!

Holding Hands: When your hand finds the hand it was meant to hold, don’t let go. (I was singing Heart by Heart performed by Demi Lovato on this part so you’ll find a lot of references to the song <3)

Spellbound: We don’t need any spells for GinTae to be together. See here they even act silly together. Also in an AU, Gin the bully is controlled kept in check by class-president Tae. In the Love Potion arc, no amount of love potion can dope Gin-san to forget that the hand he is supposed to hold is Tae’s.

Surprise Gift: Tae is up to something… Surprisingly enough (or maybe not), it is her infamous Dark Matter that makes one hate surprises when they are presented the honor of eating Tae’s magnum opus.

Dispute:

Yagyuu arc, Gintoki: It’s like Tae doesn’t hear a word I say. Her mind is somewhere far away. Like she doesn’t even care.

Benizakura arc, Tae: I know this whole city thinks it needs you but not as much as I (and Shinpachi and Kagura) do.

Gin-san went out anyways, and Tae let him.

(Btw, collage is not mine. CTTO. I’m sorry I forgot from whom I took the photo from)

Angst: Gintoki (disguising as Takasugi) is in a predicament. He doesn’t want Tae to find out he is back in Edo after two years of wandering about. No, not yet. Certainly not in those clothes (or the lack thereof).

Rescue: It’s not always the damsel that is in distress. Sometimes, gotta rescue the perm-hair and his friend the long-hair. Oh the things we do for love!

Tragedy: This was when Kagura faked her illness that led to her “dying” (as orchestrated by the Sadist Prince Okita) and after the Liberation war. Meantime, it is best to grab what wonderful moments you find lying around.

Support: Behind a man’s downfall or success is a woman. Tae’s are the only eyes that can see into and through Gintoki and vice versa. They read each other like a book. They support each other in any way that they can. They even got each other’s hearts backs.

Cliche: They’re unaware of how cliché they’re being when it comes to their romantic feelings. Everyone can see that they have this thing going on, only they can’t see it. Talk about dense. Go on, don’t be shy just say it out loud.

Memories: Let’s intrude on our favourite kind of gathering – walking down memory lane with Tae and Gin-san. Pretend they are looking over a photo album to see how far they’ve come. Looking on are Madao Hasegawa-san and Catherine.

The Power of Two: GinTae accomplishing a goal that neither of them would’ve been capable of doing alone. Just look at the picture, I have nothing more to say haha

“I love you”s: Can Gin-san be more roundabout in saying those words to Tae so they can live together as man and wife. Probably go ask the other half of your sadist duo aka Okita Sogo how to propose/ say you love her the unconventional way. (I’m referring to how Okita proposed to Kagura. Oh well, that’s for another post)

Different Ways of Saying “I love you”: I’m stumped. I don’t know what to say. Every one of their interaction is gold. Just show how you feel and make it real. And to Sorachi-sensei, one good way to hide something is in plain sight. People often forget to look at something right in front of them. Kudos!

And I end this lengthy post to that last panel with Tae saying she understands Gin. The way he’s complicated is simple. Isn’t that sweet? Might I add, Gin-san being a sweet-talker and sappy is really cringe worthy haha. Tae and Gin-san found a way to find each other thanks to Shinpachi boy. From then on, it’s like she’s been in his life forever with the way she understands his heart by heart. Anego and Danna making it through love. The gods have spoken.

#gintaeweek2018 #gintaefestival #gintaemonth #gintama #gintae

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anhed-nia · 6 years ago

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BLOGTOBER 10/9/2018: HELLRAISER III - HELL ON EARTH

This is one of those movies that I really want to like, because it maintains this glow among some horror nerds, and I want to be able to enjoy Christmas and birthdays just like the secular kids, but as of 2018, I am still uncompelled by the (minor, culty) hype. Maybe it’s because HELLRAISER is such a great movie, and also because I have such deeply personal feelings about HELLBOUND: HELLRAISER II; maybe it’s because I just don’t find the boringly beautiful Terry Farrell any more charming here than I did on Deep Space 9; maybe it’s because I just don’t have a good enough sense of humor to fully embrace the CD Cenobite, even though I would normally run-not-walk to see anything one might reasonably say is among the most ridiculous things ever filmed. I guess I’m just here to say that, yes, HELLRAISER III exists, and I’m not sorry I’ve seen it, but I still haven’t developed that urgent need to see it again.

Anthony Hickox, director of WAXWORK and WAXWORK II and WARLOCK: ARMAGEDDON (the latter of which I would surely rather be watching than *almost* anything else I’ll have mentioned here), took up the directorial reigns from Tony Randel of HELLBOUND fame; the latter was apparently replaced due to producers’ fears that his vision for HELL ON EARTH was too bleak. The more I read about this movie, the more I came to resent it for what it was not. I would definitely have had a use for Randel’s hella bleak HELLRAISER III. I would also have been first in line to see a movie totally focused on Julia, Clare Higgins’ often-skinless villainess from HELLRAISER II, though she apparently turned it down just to break my heart. And not to say that I think movie franchises like this should never change or evolve, but I could also have stood for some QT with my favorite old cenobites, and even the perennially mascara-smeared Ashley Laurence in more than a grainy cameo. What I got instead was a movie made at a breakneck speed, with actors working up to 17 hours a day and having no real sense of what the finished product was supposed to be like, slathered in a decent amount of gore but tainted by some awkward early CG effects, and garnished with some pretty Freudian daddy issues material that I actually would have welcomed if it were accompanied by any kind of chemistry between the leads.

So what actually happens in the movie? Scummy club owner JP Monroe acquires a raunchy statue in which both Pinhead and the lament configuration are trapped. He discovers the real value of this artifact when Pinhead slurps up one of JP’s dates, sending him on the familiar quest to bring the demon more victims in exchange for...some abstract concept about pleasure. As cenobitic activity ramps up around town, struggling reporter Joey takes note, and she teams up with homeless goth chick Terri-within-an-”i” to try to turn this into her first big scoop. Joey’s mission is complicated, not so much by the physical dangers ahead, than by this thing where her reoccurring nightmares about her father dying in Vietnam begin to blend with present day ethereal encounters with WWI Captain Elliot Spencer, Pinhead’s discarded human form. Spencer explains that without him, Pinhead is pure evil (I guess he wasn’t in the first two movies), which Pinhead simultaneously proves by rampaging across Manhattan turning douchebags into cenobites willy-nilly. It will be up to Joey to figure out how to unlock the infamous box and send Pinhead home before he creates a hell on earth.

If I’m being perfectly honest, I love seeing Doug Bradley with the pins off. As with Robert Englund, he transitions easily from being one of cinema’s most seductively pervy bad guys, to a naturally charming and somewhat paternal oddball, which is very rewarding for those lonely dorks among us who grew up favoring ‘80s movie monsters over GI Joes or My Little Ponys. This ought to make it shamefully exciting to see Captain Spencer try to fill the daddy-shaped hole in Joey’s heart, but statuesque Terry Farrell is far too womanly to be swishing around the astral plane in a nighty with a cartoonishly humongous bow on the back, literally screaming the word “daddy” into the void. However, the problem with this bit isn’t only that the comparatively queenly Ms. Farrell doesn’t exactly fill the nymphety little shoes of Ashley Laurence from the previous two movies. The metaphor is confused, too; what does war have to do with the existing thematic material of HELLRAISER? We get some kind of spiel about how Elliot Spencer’s dehumanizing military experience drove him to seek out the ambiguous pleasures of the cenobites, but that doesn’t justify the arbitrary conflation of Joey’s father’s ‘Nam experience with Pinhead’s WWI origins. At that, it’s a little weird, after two borderline pornographic movies full of people being skinned alive and turned into raisins and so forth, to suddenly suggest that Pinhead wasn’t all the way evil before. It is only now that Spencer’s soul is drifting around on its lonesome that we’re meant to really worry about Pinhead, who is meanwhile charging around in Manhattan fucking shit up with the aim of world domination, or something.

The main contribution of HELL ON EARTH is the new cenobites that Pinhead creates along the way, and while you wouldn’t call them “good”, they are at least...something! The most Clive Barker-y concept in the movie is that punky street urchin Terri is unable to dream, which makes her seem like prime cenobite material, somehow. Curiously though, she is reduced to a demonic chainsmoker, who mumbles something about having dreams while doing nothing much besides burning Joey with cigarettes. HELLRAISER III may totally lack inspiration, but that sure doesn’t keep the movie down; It also offers us a sex addict cenobite with thrusting pistons in his head that I guess symbolize “doing it”, a molotov cocktail-hurling bartender cenobite who gets wrapped in bar-bed wire (and is formally referred to as the “Barbie cenobite”), and a cameraman cenobite who...well, I don’t think I could possibly top the fandom wiki on this matter: “Whatever he films can explode using his mind. Also, the camera in his head has a hydraulic device that allows it to impale people.” If you’ve actually seen this movie, you may be wondering why I’d leave out the infamous CD cenobite, a club DJ who gains the ability to kill people with CDs that pop out of his head. I didn’t mean to. I just think it’s worth saying, all on its own, that there is a CD cenobite who kills people with CDs that pop out of his head. You won’t get to see the more iconic female cenobite, not Chatterbox nor Butterball. In fact the whole concept of torturing damned souls has pretty much gone out the window; in a climactic scene, Joey cowers in the middle of the street while the new cenobites menace her with cigarettes and lead pipes like some leftover gang from THE WARRIORS. It’s weird. HELLRAISER III is a weird movie. I’m not totally sure what it’s getting at, but as I mentioned at the very beginning: it sure does exist.

#clive barker #hellraiser #hellraiser: hell on earth #anthony hickox #doug bradley #terry farrell #blogtober #horror #supernatural #cenobites

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seanhtaylor · 4 years ago

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No Man Is

Dinner at eight. Sex at nine-thirty -- ten at the latest. Depends on the service at Roberto's tonight. If we get that lousy mid-western kid again, it could be as late as eleven before we're out of there. Really, Roberto ought to fire that kid.

Should it be the skimpy red velvet one tonight? Maybe the navy blue leather one -- Warren says I look really sexy in the blue one. What would he know? He'd say I look sexy in any of them. Just play along, that's what he thinks, just play along and feed her a few compliments and he'll get what he wants, all stars are like that. . . Small minds, I get so sick of them.

Another interruption. Just great. I really ought to talk to someone at that answering service. Too many of these things slip through.

"Hey darling. I've got some bad news."

"Really. What? Having trouble matching your bow tie to your socks again?"

"Worse."

"Your polo pony caught something from an undesirable filly and won't stop scratching?"

"Hilarious. You're a regular riot. Now would you please shut up and listen?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Look. Dad's entertaining some Arabs tonight, and one of them has a daughter ready to hit the big three-oh. It's a favor for Dad. Really. She's a tramp, true dog meat. Got nothing on you, sweetheart."

What, no screaming fans at every corner? No number one re-mixes? Dry up and die, Warren.

"Yeah, whatever. Maybe tomorrow night."

"OK. . .Hey, thanks for understanding. Blood's thicker than water, you know."

I hang up, listening to the bath water lap against the sides of the tub while Boots swats at the bubbles. I imagine the same bubbles swimming in my nose, throat, lungs. Boots licking my hand, giving up, and slinking off to the bowl by the refrigerator. Rest. . .

"Here Boots. Let Mommy in. Cats aren't supposed to like water."

Nice night for a walk. Maybe afterwards.

* * * * *

Tramps, all of them. Whatever happened to real heroes? When I was kid, we had the Shadow, Lone Ranger, even Batman and Robin. Now it's these sex-crazed musicians. Self- proclaimed Messiahs for a new generation.

At seven-thirty, I'll call it a night. Been on the corner all day anyway. I'll be back tomorrow morning, shouting and screaming. "Repent! Repent!" It used to be so clear, easy to tell them. Now they can't hear me for all the noise those headphones are pumping into their ears.

Just like Ellis, everyone of them. Not one of them goes by that I don't see a little bit of Ellis in their eyes, hear a little bit of Ellis out of their mouths. Ellis cursed his father, too. Even cursed me on the note he left.

One more show tonight. Gangster rap crowd. They think it's cool. I can tell by the walk.

About four of them. The biggest one's got a knife. He doesn't know I know, but he's got it anyway. Right up against his wallet. Probably a butterfly. That's where Ellis kept his.

"Yo! What's up, old man? Why ain't ya preaching no more? You all out of things to say? Or did you change your mind all of a sudden?"

"Yeah. I got some something real smooth jammin' right now. Real smooth. . .'Ooh baby. . .give me what you got. . .' Wanna hear it?" The short one offers me his headphones.

"Repent!" I say. "Repent! Quit following the gods of that trash you're listening to. 'Thou shalt have no other gods before me.' That's what the Bible says."

"Ain't got no time for the Bible. It don't rhyme."

"Can't dance to it either."

"Listen," I say, "You'll dance soon enough. Dance right on into Hell. Dance forever. No stopping, then. All these zealots of immorality will be dancing with you then. But you can outsmart them. Repent! Repent!"

They don't like what I say. The one with the knife pushes me down. I think each one of them gets a chance to kick me as they go by. That'll hurt in the morning. But bruises heal.

They yell something at me as they run off. I can't hear it clear enough to make it out. The sounds don't separate themselves in my head when the darkness comes in. . .they just mix together. Maybe I'll go in at eight or nine -- whenever I wake up.

Some listen. Some don't. All I can do is all I can do.

* * * * *

I'd turn on the radio, but I get so tired of hearing my songs over and over again. I used to think it was so cool to hear the radio playing something I wrote, something I sang, because I knew then that they thought I was good enough. Now it doesn't matter, and I know it. They'll play any old crap I give them. All it needs is my name on the CD.

Let's see: jeans, raggy t-shirt, Papa's fishing hat, a ski-mask if I had one, and these old Nikes (the old-fashioned ones I bought before the air pumps). Maybe this windy city will be blowing so hard nobody'll notice me. Sometimes a girl needs to be alone. Without the whole crazy world chasing her down like she was wearing a sign that said "A MILLION BUCKS - - JUST CATCH ME TO WIN!"

Wonder if I'll see Warren and that Arabian princess tramp. His Dad does enjoy showing off the city whenever company is in town. Driving down the strip in his stretch limo. Guess he doesn't quite realize that those things are a dime a dozen nowadays. Oh well, Warren wouldn't recognize me if I weren't wearing something kinky anyway. It's a perverted kind of tunnel vision he's got.

Better call George downstairs. See if he can't let me leave by the loading area again. The winos make great company. Don't ask a lot of questions.

"George."

"That you, Miss Diva?"

"Can you sneak me out back again tonight? Last time, I promise."

"For a kiss."

"Don't tempt me, George. Your heart rate alone would kill you. And I wouldn't want that on my conscience. Besides, I might not find anybody else who'd let me use the back door."

"It was worth a try, anyhow. Sure, come on down. You gonna use the service elevator?"

Dear sweet George. I bet he hasn't seen a single one of my videos. He probably wouldn't be so sweet then. Come after me like I was the anti-Christ, jump on that "She's ruining our kids" bandwagon. Thank God Salem was a hundred years ago.

"Yeah. Bought my new album yet?" I hope he's blushing.

"Naw. Not on a security guard's salary. It'd be a little too new for me, anyhow. No Benny Goodman on it. I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes."

"Thanks, George."

Well, Boots. You up for a little walk down the strip? No? Well, keep an eye on the apartment for Mommy. Wouldn't want to lose anything. On second thought, let someone take it all. It would be a welcome change.

* * * * *

The lights spin like showgirls, rapt in their performance. I try to focus, but the showgirls keep dancing, teasing, taunting, twirling around all glamor and frills.

Something dark that reeks of a night's sweat comes between me and the lights.

"Hey, mon. You ok?"

He's a big black man, close to six-and-a-half feet, no joke. And he's got those long dreadlocks growing like ropes from his scalp. Real unnatural.

"I say, hey mon, are you ok?"

I groggle something out to him, noise mostly, that he at least pretends to understand. He reaches out to help me up, out of the alley.

"Thank you," I say.

"Don't mention it. You need a ride somewhere?"

"No thanks. I live here." As I say it I realize he probably assumes I'm talking about the alley. . .that I'm a boozing, vagrant wino.

"Ok, mon. Take care!"

He's gone before I can correct him.

My watch beeps faintly, one of those cheap twelve dollar made-in-Taiwan kind of beeps, alerting me that it's ten till eight. I always set it ten minutes fast.

The loading bay doors of The Regal open. Probably some college kid carrying out the trash. . . No, it's a rent-a- cop checking the alley. No drugs here, I start to yell to him, just a beat-up old preacher, trying to save a few souls.

After he comes out, he holds the door for this kid who was behind him. Rough looking kid. Faded blue jeans, full of holes, baggy flannel button-up covering an old undershirt, and an ancient fishing hat. Fashion is something I'll never grasp.

The kid kisses the rent-a-cop on the cheek, makes him cross his heart on a whispered promise, and then jumps from the loading dock to the alley. I'm going to assume the best, that the kid is just leaving work from one of the shops downstairs at The Regal, and takes a shortcut home through the alley. Only walks a few feet after the door closes behind the rent-a-cop. Leans against a wall, pulls a pack of cigarettes from the pocket on the front of the flannel shirt, lights a match on the bricks of the wall, and sucks a cigarette like it was a straw. Blows smoke rings, too. Darn good ones.

Ellis used to blow rings, too. He used to try to catch them on his finger, score a point for each one he caught. Scored thirty-eight points once. His room smelled like smoke when his mother and I cut him down. Unfiltered smoke. It made his mother sick. Me, I just ignored it, washed the odor out of my clothes, and threw up later. But first we had to turn that music off.

The kid looks over to me, offers me one.

"No thanks. I like my lungs."

"Suit yourself. Gonna die anyway. Fire's as good as ice, or something like that. I never can remember."

I want to tell this kid to repent. Throw away those smokesticks, and breath the fresh air of Jesus. But I can't -- my lungs and ribs hurt too much. One of the hoodlums must've been wearing pointed shoes.

The kid finishes the smoke, then puffs down two more without missing a beat.

* * * * *

The fresh air smacks against me like a kiss, shooting me up like morphine. No pain. No memories. No anything.

I finish the third stogey, and crunch the butt under the heel of my Nikes. The wino looks at me, still shaking his head after declining my offer of a cig. Well, at least I'm not sleeping in some alley with a bottle of Jack, or whatever guys over sixty-five who live in dirty alleys drink now. I wish he'd stop looking at me that way, accusing. If I wanted that, I could just grab the Lear and fly back to Iowa to Mom and Dad. Even they would hug me first before condemning me.

Maybe that's why I hang on to Warren.

Three to get ready, and four to go, so I light up one more, and start walking out of the alley. The wind has other ideas, lifting Papa's hat, whisking it back over to the wino. He's nice enough, picking it up and knocking the dirt from it. I pop my neck, stretching the muscles, and slide my fingers through my freshly cropped hair. Kind of a long flapper cut. . .it's starting to grow on me. The wind tickles my scalp, triggering the night's rush again.

"Thanks."

He doesn't answer, seems shocked that I'm a girl underneath the street urchin clothes. Oh well, thought I'd made a friend. You win some, you lose some. Nothing new under the sun. I take the hat, tuck my hair back up under it, and head incognito into the street.

Then all Hell breaks loose. The wino starts screaming at me.

"You! You're that high-fashion harlot of music that's running this country's morals into the ground! Diva! My God, what if everybody's little girl grew up to be like you?"

Great. So much for incognito. In just a few seconds, people start gathering like maggots on dead meat. Thanks a lot, old man.

"Taxi! Hey, taxi!"

People, paper, pens. No matter where I look they're all around me. Stupid old preacher. Go ruin somebody else's night. I've got enough problems.

"Hey, everybody! Look! It's Diva!"

"I think you're great."

"Can I have your autograph? It's for my cousin."

I wonder if this is what a lab rat feels like, having to push all the right buttons while the guys in glasses and white coats stand around and watch. Only, now the glass between me and the crowd has been removed, and they're squeezing in, huddling in tighter to touch me, pull me apart, get a piece of me, carry me home as a souvenir -- "The Night I Touched Diva!"

"Taxi!"

"Please, just a few autographs."

Can't think. Can't feel the night air. Won't you please leave me alone. You don't want me. . . you want Diva. I'm not Diva. I'm not Diva. I'm. . . My God, who am I?

"Sure, just a few. Anything for my fans."

A blur of yellow rescues me. I fall inside less than gracefully. In the back seat, I cup my hands to hide my face.

* * * * *

My God, Ellis. Is this what you saw when the floor danced beneath you?

The attention she commands. The worship she craves. A pimp in black leather selling sex to children. And once they're hooked, they beg for more. Not one kid in the crowd is older than eighteen. Most look at least thirty, padded and curved, showing off the adultness of their bodies. But they're children. And begging at her feet like pets, ready to play.

"Repent! Repent!" I say, but I know they can't hear. All I can do is all I can do.

My sermon gets lost in the thunder they give her. Try as I might, I can do nothing here. God forgive them for they know not what they do. If anyone causes one Your little ones to stumble, oh Lord, have mercy. . .

A cab sweeps in, screeching recklessly next to the curb. She crawls in, bowing first to soak in their praise. The yellow door slams behind her, and the cab screams off.

It takes a good fifteen minutes for the crowd to fully disperse. Most of them linger, trading stories of how close they got, what her clothes felt like. Two girls in the front lie on the sidewalk, passed out. I guess they actually touched her.

Might as well get a cup of coffee before going home. Henry's place is only two blocks away. Let the commotion die down a little.

When I enter, the smell of hot coffee is solid like a wall. Just being here cheers me up, even makes my side feel better. Sid and Gladys wave, ask me for a soul count. Marty looks up, nods, then looks away, finishing his grilled cheese and Maxwell House. Two drunks are passed out in the corner booth. I stuff a Gideon New Testament in each one's shirt pocket, and order them each an omelet plate and some fresh coffee for when they wake up. Henry will see that they get it.

"Here's twenty bucks. It'll get them each a night at the shelter," I say to Henry as I sit down, "Don't let them have it till after I leave."

He takes the money. "The last two blew it on more liquor. What makes you think these two won't?"

"Just got a feeling this time, Henry."

"You had a feeling last time."

He's right. Most of them drink it all away. Probably end up right back in the corner booth, drunk and passed out. Some don't.

"Didja hear the news, Wilson? About Diva's new album being banned in two stores in Mississippi?" Henry asks me. And as he does, I remember the color of her eyes when I handed her the cap, deep brown like Ellis', before they dulled from drugs.

"Well, preacher, didja hear me? Diva's new album was banned from two stores in Mississippi."

I ignore him as much as I can. "Ham and cheese omelet. Grits and toast, too."

"Bet those libs'll be making a stink about their first amendment rights again. Yes sir, this time it's got the smell of a lawsuit all over it."

Henry keeps talking to me, but the words get lost somewhere between us. Eventually, he gives me the omelet plate, and I join the two drunks at the corner booth. One stirs as I sit, shows me a picture of his wife, then passes out again. My watch lets me know it's ten till nine.

#Sean Taylor #short story #Gomer and other Early Works #No Man Is

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lastsonlost · 7 years ago

Link

Because staying a victim and hiding behind the block button is way more important than actually TRYING TO UPLIFT YOURSELF. i’M GOING TO THIS AGAIN.

@elfyourmother

Read the shit out of this. And then read it again. He goes a lot deeper than hair.

sourcedumal

I love this article. He truly goes in. And if course white folks are telling him “make your own then” like he has fucking access to all that shit that major companies have…

How about gaming companies actually start programs in black and Latino communities so we can get more of us in?

But that would be too much like right…

@elfyourmother

the truly hysterical thing is that he actually gets into the whole “make your own” argument in the actual essay. they just don’t want to hear him.

bunabi

mmmhm they really honestly dont wanna hear him

@elfyourmother

#ppl that say that also overlook the fact that white developers want to hire their friends aka people that look and think like them#networking is huge with breaking into the industry and they dont wanna sit with someone ‘militant’ or ‘difficult’ or ‘controversial’#its not even a secret#white developers hold the power and maintain the status quo and defend it readily#yet the handful of non-white staff is supposed to change their minds#lmao

bunabi

I’m sayin tho.

Non-white artists/developers/programmers/designers have a hard enough time getting hired but can also risk their jobs by making waves and being confrontational.

This aint some cute fantasy land where your coworkers suddenly learn a life lesson after bringing you on. They hire you because you’re a good fit and hit it off with them. Talent factors in, but they do care if you’re a team player. And if you’re not, it can get around and will absolutely affect future opportunities, if not completely sever some valuable connections and resources.

It’s not a damn game out here ! honestly !

@elfyourmother

real talk. and like, a lot of industries are like that. it’s not necessarily just a video game thing. ain’t a poc working in corporate america who hasn’t had to navigate this shit on some level or another

it’s just that much more pronounced in creative fields in general. major content producers whether the medium is video games, comics, movies, whatever generally don’t want to take risks, they want to go with what’s safe, they don’t want to rock the boat too much. and being a team player means keeping your head down and doing what you’re told and not challenging shit too hard. you don’t want to be labelled a “troublemaker” or “difficult”. look at that fuckery that went down on Project Greenlight with even the mildest most common sense pushback.

bagged-a-bazooka Deactivated

>Kotaku

Also, did this guy seem to ignore the games that do feature black leads and black stories? Shadowman, Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (Arguably one of the best black American narratives in video games imo), Minerva’s Den, two characters from The Walking Dead, etc etc etc

And yeah, the “Make your own” is fiesable; considering we’ve had a large surge of indie games made by small teams (Even one person) such as Hotline Miami, Undertale, Shovel Knight, Binding of Isaac. There’s literally no excuse and the argument of “Oh, I CAN’T make my own character because the MAN is keeping me down!” is such fucking baloney

There is literally nothing stopping you from making your own game except yourself

eidolous Deactivated

This essay is excerpted from The State of Play, an upcoming collection of writing on video game culture that comes out on October 20.]

< MY BLACK ASS

god give me strength!!!

What part of being black is suppose to be easy? Oh WE can talk about about how great “WE ARE” until WE gotta put in some work. Then you give up with out even trying and call it a mic drop? I don’t want to win the argument that my dreams are impossible because I’m black.

Every other comment is we can’t do it, we can never do, it will never done.

I’ve never in my life seen my beautiful brilliant young black kids with so much energy to speak their minds at the same time sound so defeated. Where did the attitude go? Yea I know everyone’s gonna find that attitude in order to drag and call me out but not to put your muscle in your hustle.

IF you don’t want just a job all your life you have to hustle and BECAUSE WE ARE BLACK WE HAVE TO HUSTLE HARDER!! When has waiting for shit to go our way ever work out for us? Do you see people waiting for change or marching in the street for it.

@bagged-a- a-bazooka has a point. fuck the big guys. Indie projects can still look and play big even on a budget. build a team and make it your own. look up black crowdfunding* build your portfolio * do small jobs * hunt for grants and inventors

Fuck this just screaming for representation. Stop being afraid to represent yourselves. DON’T YOU BELIEVE YOU MATTER? Do you think I’m just say this shit for me?

Personally I don’t believe there’s anyone fit to tell my story but me. But seeing everyone so quick to say we can makes me so mad at myself for taking too long with my own work. I will not prove them right when that say it can’t do done. My entire life was I can’t do it, stop dreaming, be realistic. I even found my self dating my biggest hatter. NO MORE OF THAT

I’m too far into my young life to turn back and give up. I know we have an uphill battle. I know the uphill is as tall as a sky crapper. but I would sooner fall from the struggle then rot in a dead end life because I was too much of a pussy to stand up for my dream.

bluez-cluuz

Black crowdfund with black twitter to make your black game everyone!

lastsonlost

Hay it’s worth a try if you want it bad enough. Just saying.

the good @reasonandempathy

the truly hysterical thing is that he actually gets into the whole “make your own” argument in the actual essay. they just don’t want to hear him.

No. He didn’t. He really, really didn’t.

He referenced the argument. Then he said “Louis C.K. destroyed this by reminding everyone slavery wasn’t that long ago.” followed by “institutional racism is a thing”.

Nevermind the fact that the most beloved new IPs come from indie developers working on their first (few) games.

Stardew Valley, Enter the Gungeon, Darkest Dungeon, Oxenfree, Aragami, Pony Island, Seasons After Fall, Diluvion, Deadbolt, Necropolis all came out in 2016 alone. Nevermind how many huge IPs were created by Indie developers the past few years (CD Projekt Red as an example).

Shovel Knight, Banner Saga, Minecraft…the list of massive indie hits over the past few years is extensive. Even Zoe Quinn has made an indie game alone.

This is the period of time in which “make your own” is more valid than at any point in history. The video game market is going to reach $110b next year. Mobile gaming is going to hit $29b, which is dominated by indie games (and reskins of indie games).

Make your own things. It’s easier to do now than ever before and you can get rich doing it, too. Sounds like a win-win-win.

Unless you’re just not really interested.

lastsonlost

That’s all I was trying say. JUST GET OUT THERE AND TRY. You can legitimately get ahold of game developing tools on the cheap.

I can understand it scared to take a chance but regretting the chance you didn’t take it’s worse.

but it must be easier to hide behind the block button.

#media diversity #diversity in gaming #indie games

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newssplashy · 6 years ago

Link

The BMW X4 is a "sport activity coupe," a fastback SUV that strives to combine sporty driving with crossover versatility. The styling is a bit confusing, but the X4's peppy 248-horsepower four-cylinder motor and crisp handling won me over.

The 2019 BMW X4 is a "sport activity coupe," a fastback SUV that strives to combine sporty driving with crossover versatility.

The styling is a bit confusing, but the X4's peppy 248-horsepower four-cylinder motor and crisp handling won me over.

The BMW X4 has a pretty firm ride, so it might be the best highway cruising choice.

One of the more perplexing vehicles I've tested at Business Insider is the BMW X6.

Back in 2015, I sampled the X6 M, a high-performance version of the vehicle, a "sport activity coupe."

"It's certainly the oddest segment in the motoring world, outside of 'shooting brakes' (two-door station wagons) and limos with hot tubs," I wrote.

That impression has long stayed with me, even as this weird segment has grown. It was the first thing I thought about when BMW was kind enough to loan me a X4 for a week. Would this smaller, less burly version of the X6 M, this fastback revamping of the stalwart X3 SUV, strike me as strange?

As it turned out, I had a good test lined up: a 250-mile round-trip run to my daughter's sleepaway camp in New York's Catskills. There would be highway driving and some nice twisty, windy roads to put this sportif SUV through its paces.

That's what these vehicles are all about. The idea is to combine crossover SUV versatility with sports-sedan styling and that whole "ultimate driving machine" vibe. I daresay, for the Bayerische Motoren Werke chariot to be all things to all people — but mainly something different from buyers who can't accept a sedan but don't want the stigma of an SUV.

A word on the "coupe" part of "Sport Activity Coupe." A coupé, of course, should have just two doors, not be a convertible, and historically not be a utility vehicle. Times change, obviously. You have to abandon your allegiances to traditional automotive nomenclature. Why? Because BMW says so.

This SAC, a 2019 X4 xDrive 30i, also arrived with all-wheel-drive, which again sort of bucks the whole coupé ideal, giving life to the notion that two-doors with sporting pretensions should be rear-wheel-drive machines.

But anyway, we must address the contraption before us, and so onward. Here's what I thought:

Behold! The 2019 BMW X4 xDrive 30i! The paint job was a handsome "Dark Graphite Metallic." Styling? A sort of oomphed-up sedan, with a sloping fastback.

The signature BMW kidney grille dominates the front fascia.

A closer look at those bold chrome blades, framing the legendary BMW badge.

Can you spot the Hofmeister Kink? I sure can, mainly because the slope of the fastback exaggerates the rear-end design of the X6.

I mean, let's be honest: it doesn't look to great from behind.

Here's the X3, the crossover SUV that's the basis for the X4 (both are made in South Carolina, by the way).

Read the snowbound review >>

And here's dangerous big brother, the X6 M.

Read the review >>

The X3/X4 are compact SUVs, sitting below the midsize X5.

xDrive equals all-wheel-drive! The 30i trim packs a turbocharged, 248-horsepower inline four-cylinder engine under the hood.

There's about 30 cubic feet of cargo area under the fastback hatch ...

... More than enough to handle a large suitcase and a laundry bag crammed with enough linen and sleeping bags and miscellany to get a teenager through two weeks of camp.

All BMW from the driver's point of view: the ultimate driving machine lives on on this purposeful cockpit. The steering wheel is heated, as are the front seats.

The center console provides a decent amount of storage and a pair of cupholders. BMW's wonky toggle shifter and the controls for the controversial but now much-improved iDrive infotainment system are also there, as is the selector for the X4's drive modes.

There's a large dual moonroof that let's in abundant sunshine!

And the rear seats, while not capacious ...

... Are adequately roomy. The "Tacora Red Vernasca Leather" interior, which comes with contrasting stitching, is lovely and expensive, a $1,700 extra.

Speaking of lovely, after some miserable summer weather in the Northeast, I had spectacular skies for my drive into the Catskills.

Our companion was BMW's iDrive infotainment system. It's been around for a while, an in the X4 is utilizes this fairly large central touchscreen.

The system isn't the easiest to use — all the sub-trees and decision forks seem to just what the average German engineer would order — but it get the jobs done and is reliable. GPS navigation was faultless, the audio system sounds quite good and offers USB/AUX inputs as well as an old-school CD player. There's also a small suite of apps, including a weather app that given the stormy, rainy nature of our Northeastern summer, I consulted often.

So what's the verdict?

To be honest, I was confused in the beginning by the X4, but I warmed up to it.

I should really favor the fastback ute over its SUV counterparts, but the oddness of the X4's shape takes a while to overcome. I like fastback sedans, after all. And there's no question that the X3/X5 family of crossovers is quite solid. There are good reasons why people love these vehicles, combining as they do SUV capability with BMW driving DNA.

What really won me over and vanquished some memories of the X6 M's warlike powerplant was the eager pep of the X4's four banger and the pop it could channel through its eight-speed automatic (there are paddle shifters and a manual mode if you want to go there). The 0-60 mph sprint passes in about six seconds, and I averaged an impressive 25 mpg.

The X4 30i leans toward the sporty side of the driving equation, but it isn't as bold as the M40i trim, which takes the ponies to 355 by swapping an inline four for a twin-turbo inline six. After a few days, I began to genuinely enjoy the X4's tossable nature, not something I often encounter in SUVs.

The major negative I encountered was the rather stuff seats, which when paired with the rather stiff ride no matter which mode I was in, and despite a lumbar support, evoked protests from my embattled and aging lower back after a few hours on the highway. The X4's cargo hold was up to the task of a road trip with gear, but the seats left something to be desired.

Mind you, when you chuck the X4 hard into a corner, you appreciate those seats and the crisp composure that the SAC's suspension and chassis delivery.

All this means this vehicle is really for suburbanites who would like to stand out from the crowd and who favor more driving in their ultimate driving machines that have been designed for tasks other than driving. I can accept that.

And after a week, I embraced it.

via Nigerian News ➨☆LATEST NIGERIAN NEWS ☆➨GHANA NEWS➨☆ENTERTAINMENT ☆➨Hot Posts ➨☆World News ☆➨News Sp

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toptecharena · 6 years ago

Text

The 2019 BMW X4 is a “sport activity coupe,” a fastback SUV that strives to combine sporty driving with crossover versatility.

The styling is a bit confusing, but the X4’s peppy 248-horsepower four-cylinder motor and crisp handling won me over.

The BMW X4 has a pretty firm ride, so it might be the best highway cruising choice.

One of the more perplexing vehicles I’ve tested at Business Insider is the BMW X6.

Back in 2015, I sampled the X6 M, a high-performance version of the vehicle, a “sport activity coupe.”

“It’s certainly the oddest segment in the motoring world, outside of ‘shooting brakes’ (two-door station wagons) and limos with hot tubs,” I wrote.

As it turned out, I had a good test lined up: a 250-mile round-trip run to my daughter’s sleepaway camp in New York’s Catskills. There would be highway driving and some nice twisty, windy roads to put this sportif SUV through its paces.

That’s what these vehicles are all about. The idea is to combine crossover SUV versatility with sports-sedan styling and that whole “ultimate driving machine” vibe. I daresay, for the Bayerische Motoren Werke chariot to be all things to all people — but mainly something different from buyers who can’t accept a sedan but don’t want the stigma of an SUV.

A word on the “coupe” part of “Sport Activity Coupe.” A coupé, of course, should have just two doors, not be a convertible, and historically not be a utility vehicle. Times change, obviously. You have to abandon your allegiances to traditional automotive nomenclature. Why? Because BMW says so.

But anyway, we must address the contraption before us, and so onward. Here’s what I thought:

Behold! The 2019 BMW X4 xDrive 30i! The paint job was a handsome “Dark Graphite Metallic.” Styling? A sort of oomphed-up sedan, with a sloping fastback.

The signature BMW kidney grille dominates the front fascia.

A closer look at those bold chrome blades, framing the legendary BMW badge.

Can you spot the Hofmeister Kink? I sure can, mainly because the slope of the fastback exaggerates the rear-end design of the X6.

I mean, let’s be honest: it doesn’t look to great from behind.

Here’s the X3, the crossover SUV that’s the basis for the X4 (both are made in South Carolina, by the way).

Read the snowbound review >>

And here’s dangerous big brother, the X6 M.

Read the review >>

The X3/X4 are compact SUVs, sitting below the midsize X5.

xDrive equals all-wheel-drive! The 30i trim packs a turbocharged, 248-horsepower inline four-cylinder engine under the hood.

There’s about 30 cubic feet of cargo area under the fastback hatch …

… More than enough to handle a large suitcase and a laundry bag crammed with enough linen and sleeping bags and miscellany to get a teenager through two weeks of camp.

All BMW from the driver’s point of view: the ultimate driving machine lives on on this purposeful cockpit. The steering wheel is heated, as are the front seats.

The center console provides a decent amount of storage and a pair of cupholders. BMW’s wonky toggle shifter and the controls for the controversial but now much-improved iDrive infotainment system are also there, as is the selector for the X4’s drive modes.

There’s a large dual moonroof that let’s in abundant sunshine!

And the rear seats, while not capacious …

… Are adequately roomy. The “Tacora Red Vernasca Leather” interior, which comes with contrasting stitching, is lovely and expensive, a $1,700 extra.

Speaking of lovely, after some miserable summer weather in the Northeast, I had spectacular skies for my drive into the Catskills.

Our companion was BMW’s iDrive infotainment system. It’s been around for a while, an in the X4 is utilizes this fairly large central touchscreen.

The system isn’t the easiest to use — all the sub-trees and decision forks seem to just what the average German engineer would order — but it get the jobs done and is reliable. GPS navigation was faultless, the audio system sounds quite good and offers USB/AUX inputs as well as an old-school CD player. There’s also a small suite of apps, including a weather app that given the stormy, rainy nature of our Northeastern summer, I consulted often.

So what’s the verdict?

To be honest, I was confused in the beginning by the X4, but I warmed up to it.

I should really favor the fastback ute over its SUV counterparts, but the oddness of the X4’s shape takes a while to overcome. I like fastback sedans, after all. And there’s no question that the X3/X5 family of crossovers is quite solid. There are good reasons why people love these vehicles, combining as they do SUV capability with BMW driving DNA.

What really won me over and vanquished some memories of the X6 M’s warlike powerplant was the eager pep of the X4’s four banger and the pop it could channel through its eight-speed automatic (there are paddle shifters and a manual mode if you want to go there). The 0-60 mph sprint passes in about six seconds, and I averaged an impressive 25 mpg.

The X4 30i leans toward the sporty side of the driving equation, but it isn’t as bold as the M40i trim, which takes the ponies to 355 by swapping an inline four for a twin-turbo inline six. After a few days, I began to genuinely enjoy the X4’s tossable nature, not something I often encounter in SUVs.

The major negative I encountered was the rather stuff seats, which when paired with the rather stiff ride no matter which mode I was in, and despite a lumbar support, evoked protests from my embattled and aging lower back after a few hours on the highway. The X4’s cargo hold was up to the task of a road trip with gear, but the seats left something to be desired.

Mind you, when you chuck the X4 hard into a corner, you appreciate those seats and the crisp composure that the SAC’s suspension and chassis delivery.

And after a week, I embraced it.

Go to Source Author: Matthew DeBord Finance: I drove a $58,000 BMW X4 ‘Sport Activity Coupe’ on a 250-mile road trip — here’s the verdict on this offbeat SUV (TSLA) The BMW X4 is a "sport activity coupe," a fastback SUV that strives to combine sporty driving with crossover versatility.

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eddiejpoplar · 7 years ago

Text

One Week With: A Rental-Spec Dodge Challenger

HONOLULU, Hawaii — It’s not often when you’re pumped to drive a V-6 Challenger, but when the other options sitting in the rental lot are “Nissan Altima or similar,” the big white Dodge was a welcome sight that turned out to be a fine ride of choice for my Hawaiian vacation.

That said this was a rental-spec Challenger SXT, so I wasn’t too excited. Frills? What frills? The number of option boxes checked was precisely zero. Pretend it’s 1997 and its 5.0-inch info screen looks like a double-DIN head unit out of a fourth-gen Camaro. Thankfully, it’s 2017. Even the base Challengers come with Bluetooth nowadays and almost all of us have a smartphone with which to stream music through, so you’re not limited to the AM/FM radio and that Limp Bizkit CD you swear was a gift from your aunt.

And unlike said Camaro (or similar-vintage Mustang), the base 2017 Challenger’s engine can’t be derisively described as a “boat anchor.” Instead, Chrysler’s trusty 3.6-liter Pentastar V-6 effortlessly makes as much power as the V-8s of 20 years ago, sending 305 hp and 268 lb-ft of torque to the coupe’s rear wheels. More importantly, it’s not held back by its transmission. The eight-speed ZF automatic the V-6 is paired with is smooth and efficient — the opposite of the four-speeds of yore. Speaking of large white vehicles from Auburn Hills, I spent a lot of time with this engine and transmission combo a few years ago while chaperoning Big White, Motor Trend’s long-term 2013 Chrysler 300, so I knew exactly what to expect — and the Challenger didn’t disappoint.

One upside of the smaller engine and lack of content is a reduced curb weight. The Challenger SXT tips the scales at 3,894 lbs — the only variant to come in under the 4,000-lb mark. Hitting 60 mph takes 6.0 seconds, which is good enough to keep up with a V-6 Camry. Of course, straight line performance is almost irrelevant in Hawaii, where everything runs on Island Time and even the freeways have 45 mph speed limits.

In a way, the lack of excess power makes the Challenger a better around town cruiser. You don’t have to worry about doubling the speed limit simply by looking at the throttle wrong like you do in a Hellcat, while the lower levels of engine vibration and large-sidewall all-season tires make for a smoother and quieter ride. There’s also something to be said for the simplicity of cloth seats, which are better suited to Hawaii’s tropical, salt-water drenched environment than skin-scorching leather. And the V-6 is rated at 19/30 mpg city/highway, making it much easier on the wallet for us mainlanders at least, as it takes a minute to get through a tank of gas on an island half the size of Rhode Island.

In case you think I’m crazy or simply don’t have a good frame of reference, I’ve been behind the wheel of the better part of a dozen Challenger variants over the years, including three that I sampled shortly after I returned from my vacation — the all-wheel-drive GT, road-course-eating Hellcat Widebody, and drag-strip-conquering Demon. The GT comes standard with a performance steering setup and turning the wheel did feel a bit better than in the SXT, but the all-wheel drive system rarely let its presence be known (an unsurprising consequence of perfectly dry summer roads) and its on-road demeanor was not noticeably different. The two fire-breathers, in turn, obviously display far more impressive and aggressive performance characteristics, though they can be just as docile on slow country roads. And while they make much better noises, they also cost more than twice as much.

Like many other Challenger variants, the all-wheel-drive GT exists in large part simply because it can. It turns in a little better than other Challengers but the AWD can't really be tested in perfect Southern California weather.

As tempting as the Challenger SXT’s base price of $28,090 may be, it’s not a bad idea to pony up the extra $3,000 needed to swing a $31,090 SXT Plus. Not only do you get the 8.4-inch Uconnect screen along with satellite radio by upgrading to the Plus, you also get rear park assist, heated and cooled front seats, power-adjustable heated steering wheel, 20-inch wheels with wider tires (245/45R20 Firestone Firehawk GTVs versus 235/55R18 Michelin Primacy MXM4s), and upgraded brakes (13.6-inch discs with two-pot calipers instead of 12.6-inchers with a single-piston clamp up front and vented 12.6-inch discs with a single piston at rear instead of solid ones at rear). There is a potential downside — the leather upholstery. You could also opt for the Challenger GT, which adds configurable drive modes, but it also replaces the 20s fitted to the SXT Plus with 19s and throws the Michelin Primacies back on. Unless you live in the Snow Belt it’s not really worth the additional $3,400.

While buying a base-model Challenger may not be the most prudent course of action, the same cannot be said for renting one — or a Charger or Chrysler 300, for that matter. Unless you’ve got kids or others to haul in back, there’s no reason not to go with the big Dodge coupe. None of the midsize sedans that will be your alternatives will have even half the character of the Challenger, nor will they necessarily be as quiet or comfortable.

2017 Dodge Challenger SXT Specifications

ON SALE Now PRICE $28,090 (base) ENGINE 3.6L DOHC 24-valve-valve V-6/305 hp @ 6,350 rpm, 268 lb-ft @ 4,800 rpm TRANSMISSION Eight-speed automatic LAYOUT 2-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, RWD coupe EPA MILEAGE 19/30 mpg (city/hwy) L x W x H 197.9 x 75.7 x 57.5 in WHEELBASE 116.2 in WEIGHT 3,894 lb 0-60 MPH 6.0 sec TOP SPEED N/A

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jonathanbelloblog · 7 years ago

Text

One Week With: A Rental-Spec Dodge Challenger

2017 Dodge Challenger SXT Specifications

The post One Week With: A Rental-Spec Dodge Challenger appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

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jesusvasser · 7 years ago

Text

One Week With: A Rental-Spec Dodge Challenger

2017 Dodge Challenger SXT Specifications

The post One Week With: A Rental-Spec Dodge Challenger appeared first on Automobile Magazine.

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jaehyunsboomvocals · 7 years ago

Text

Part 1

Yoo Kihyun ....

Monsta X’s main vocal…

Monbebe’s hamster...

Wife and Eomma of 5 kids…

This is how the world saw him. The only person who didn’t see him this way was Tris. His best friend and the girl next door.

Tris and Kihyun’s mothers were best friends who did everything together. When they got married, they bought houses next door to each other so they never had to go a day apart… Luckily for them, they married two other best friends… These 2 couples were inseparable. They did everything with each other, from double dates before they were married, to holidays after they were married. So it was only normal when they fell pregnant around the same time, went to pregnancy classes together, sent the hubbies out to get late night cravings.

Kihyun’s eomma, Soyou was the first to go into labour. Tris’ eomma, Bora had a few weeks to go but insisted she wanted to be admitted with her bestie… The hospital staff felt it made no sense for her to be admitted so early but had to give in to her request when Ki’s appa, woohyun booked out a private room for the ladies. Ki’s family were much better off than Tris'. Woohyun had gone to college since his parents could afford it. Tris’ appa Dongwoo, did not have the best upbringing and was forced to find a job straight after school. Back in the day, if you had a college degree, you were better than the rest. However, never once did the woohyun and soyout make dong and bora feel like they were below them. They always treated them as equals and this was one of the reasons their friendship was so strong for so many years…

Soyou and bora were best friends since kindergarten... once they met and realized they were pretty much the same person... they decided to be best friends forever...

As for woohyun and dongwoo... they met in the 2nd grade ...

Dongwoo was always the victim of the school’s bullies ... until one day woohyun stood up to them...

He pushed the bully on the floor and told him if he ever picked on anyone again, he would report him to his police officer dad who locked up bullies. .. woohyun knew fully well that his dad who was a doctor could not possibly lock this horrible child up but the bully didnt know that... ever since that day dongwoo made his first friend. Every day after school he would go to woohyun’s house where they would play soccer in his backyard. They became so good at it that they both made their schools little league team. A few years later, they were headed off to high school ... and had one thing on their minds... making the epik high school soccer team... they had worked hard all through primary and middle school for that very moment…

That soon changed when they met soyou and bora.. All the guys wanted to do growing up, was be on the soccer field, until they noticed these two girls… By some luck, no two people liked the same person... the guys fell for different girls and the girls in turn reciprocated… and for the next four years their friendships grew and their innocent love stories developed into serious relationships...

Dongwoo had started working at a manufacturing factory with his dad until he made his way up to manager 7 years later... soyou and bora started working as secretaries at a law firm to pay for their part time studies... soyou had waited 4 years for woohyun to return from college before they got married 2 years later...

After dongwoo became manager, and bora had found a job at a health care centre, they also tied the knot...

Once dong and bora got back from their much needed honeymoon, the couples went house hunting.. After a few weeks of searching .. they finally found their dream homes right next door to each other... after 2 years of happiness and some hardships .. soyou and bora fell pregnant and 9 months later .. A baby boy and a baby girl were born..

Kihyun and Tris... who were a few weeks apart... had not spent a single day without the other since tris was born... Soyou had left work for a bit when ki was born, since woohyun was earning enough to provide for the family... bora hated that she had to go back to work after her maternity leave was over but was thankful that tris was in the hands of the only person she trusted.. Kihyun and tris went through everything together... from nappy changes... spitting up food on soyou ... their first words... learning how to walk ... to attending the same kindergarten... primary middle and high school... They were more than best friends... they had become each other's other half... the ones they turned to when something bad happened and the ones they couldn’t wait to run to when something good happened... They had not noticed just how much they needed the other until the day kihyun left home to follow his dreams of being a singer...

The first time tris asked ki what he wanted to be when he grew up... they were 12 years old.. their parents were busy at the dinner table while the kids played... all 4 of them expected an answer like fireman or police or an engineer like woohyun... however ki stated he was going to be a singer.. The parents all chuckled but tris simply replied.. wen u become famous.. can you buy me a pink pony ? Ofcz ki replied i will buy you 3 pink ponies... tris' face lit up and ever since that day she had become ki’s #1 fangirl... she filmed his audition tapes for agencies ... she stood in lines with him when there were open castings... she made posters and stood in crowds at talent shows he participated in...Gifted him cds with vocal lessons whenever she could save up enough of her allowance... this continued for years, until one day his dream had started to turn into a reality.

Tris and ki were watching a movie in his room when his mum called out for him saying he has a phone call.. tris had paused the movie and waited patiently for him to return... soon she could hear soyou crying and opening the front door ... tris looked out the window and saw soyou make her way next door most probably to talk to bora... ki came back into the room with a blank look on his face.. ki sat down on his bed next to tris and kept staring off in a daydream state.. "kihyunah what happened to your mum... is everything okay... why is she crying" ki looked at tris still unable to speak until he finally collapsed his head onto her shoulder... "i got a call from starship ent... they want me to come in for a live audition" tris finally understood why ki had gone into this shocked state... it was almost hard to believe that he had gotten a response back from anyone... after sending in so many audition vids, they eventually gave up when no one responded... tris pulled ki up from her shoulder... and put her hands on his shouldersto keep him from collapsing again.. "ki .. its happening. .. The moment we worked towards the past 5 years.. its here.. im so proud of u”.. tris tried to tell herself this was really happening as she said these words... they sat there for a while unable to say anything or move .. they did this alot... when someone had something they were not ready to talk about .. they would just sit in silence until that person was ready to spill... but this was the first time they sat in happy silence... "tris... what if im not good enough" ki finally said... "they would not have called you up if they didnt see some talent in you... all you have to do is go there and show them what i see in you everyday.. and if they dont want you, then screw them.. it will be their loss… and we will just keep trying until someone realizes how special you are."

Ki was always thankful for tris' support... sometimes he wondered how he would have gotten through most of his life if she hadn’t been by his side... he knew he definitely wouldn’t have gotten this call, had she not been there with him every step of the way cheering him on every time he felt like there was no point anymore... Ki looked at tris sitting in front of him and put his hand to her head and patted it... this was his thing... every time he needed to calm down or she did something cute or she needed comforting ...he would pat her head ...

The same girl on the same bed just like every other day of his life. The same girl he ever gave a flower to when they were 5 and playing in the garden, because he wanted to give her something pretty. The same girl who stood next to him staring worriedly into the mirror the first time he attempted shaving. The same girl who made his tie knots, not because he didn’t know how, just because he thought she made it better.

The same girl on the same bed, only this time felt different, as if from this day onwards, the rest of their lives were going to change… ki’s dream was finally coming true but all he could think about as he looked at tris, was how he was going to live his life without her by his side...

A few weeks after the audition, kihyun had become a starship trainee... he had moved into the dorm with a bunch of other guys who soon became his family...

No matter how close ki got to these guys... no one could fill the tris void he had since leaving home... he had gone from seeing her every day, to seeing her once every 3 months... she used to call him every until his days got too tiring and he was asleep by the time she called... ki spent the next 4 years this way.. Being a trainee was the hardest thing he had ever gone through... it was especially harder when he had to participate in a survival show with the guys he saw as brothers... the only thing harder than saying goodbye to the guys who got cut was when he said goodbye to tris all those years ago... After many hardships and struggles, the moment had finally come... a date had been set... a group name had been given... positions had been assigned... kihyun was finally going to debut...

Tris still couldnt believe it was happening. It was hard enough to believe that the boy she watched on tv was the same boy who ran all the way to the store to buy pads, meds and ice cream when they were at the library studying for finals and she had gotten her period.

The same boy who since that day, had memorized her schedule and always reminded so she was prepared... The same boy who gave her a flower when they were 5…

That boy was going to be famous... Even though it was hard to process, tris knew since they were younger that this day would come... and not just because she hoped she would get her ponies.. She had seen the talent in him before anyone else had... it scared her sometimes when they were filming auditions... what gonna happen when my best friend becomes everyone’s oppa?… what’s gonna happen when my best friend becomes an idol and I no longer see him?... what happens when my best friend finds a new best friend and no longer needs me? It had been a while since she had those thoughts and they all returned upon news of his debut… Tris hated herself for feeling so selfish. She more than anyone wanted ki to succeed and accomplish all his dreams.. She just sometimes wished his dreams didn’t take him away from her.

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