#fully expected from rich old english dudes

[warlordfelwinter]

i love looking through old family trees bc sometimes you find out you're related to a guy with a wikipedia page

[just-some-random-blogger]

Death By Bagel

NCT Culinary Student!Mark Lee x Fashion Design Student!Reader Summary: Mark makes a cake cause he's realized he can't lose you to some f-boy. Word Count: 3k+ Warnings: Fluff, childhood au, college au, slowish burn, slight cursing, reallllly fluffy, some broksi-dude action, typos sksksksks, etc.

R E Q U E S T my friend: mark lee, slow burn, friends to lovers

A/N: I wrote a fic that already had like 1k+ word then I LOST IT (i think i deleted it) thus this. It took me 10 years to write this msmsmkskskks. PLEASE TUMBLR IS MESSING WITH ME AND MIXED UP THE ORDER OF SOME OF THE DIALOGUE

“As a doctor, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Mark says, not even bothering to look at his patient seated rudely on the floor. Oop, he’s lying down now.

Mark huffs and looks up from the clay block he was molding on his tray, “YOU’RE SO UNPROFESSIONAL!”

Mark’s mother nearly spits out her coffee upon hearing the words of his five-year-old son. Her husband snorts, “He got that from you.”

The woman throws a look at the man and was supposed to give a snarky retort, up until the sound of the doorbell ringing. She grins from ear-to-ear and dashes to get the door.

When she comes back to the living room, she’s accompanies by another woman and a tiny version of her.

“Markie! Say hello to your Auntie!” Mark’s mom calls.

Mark from the carpeted floor looks up and blinks, examining the stranger-woman and its human-ling. Mark turns to his father who was sat on the couch and receives a nod of approval almost. Mark purses his lips and waves at the woman.

The woman waves back and then crouches down to the little girl, “Baby, say hello to Mark.”

Unwilling, she shakes her head.

“Aw come on, baby. Don’t be shy. Mark over there is a really sweet boy. I knew him when he was in his mommy’s tummy, just like Mark’s mom knew you when you were in mine. You’re the same age so you’ll get along just fine.”

With the unnecessary explanation that gave no justification to the scene whatsoever out of the way, the girl was fooled into peeping up, “Hi, Mark.”

“Hello,” Mark says, not particularly interested, as his patient was still in the midst of dying in his office. He turned to his stuffed toy called Mr. Lion and attempted to stand him up once more.

At this point, the girl makes her way to Mark.

“We’ll be back in two hours, honey. Keep an eye on the children,” Mrs. Lee tells his husband who had been occupied with TV the entire time.

“Yeah. I got this,” he smiles to his wife then goes back to watching.

The bumble bee clad figure sat down to Mark in blue and watched him play.

Mark ignored her for a few seconds, needing to assert all efforts on standing that dumb toy up. Once successful, Mark turns to her, “Do you play doctors?”

Mark was then met with the same lack on enthusiasm. She hums, “I like playing baker doctor.”

All at once, Mark gasps, “ME TOO!”

It was unbeknownst to the children it was oddly specific and the chance of this happening was pretty slim.

And in a blink of an eye, excited giggles erupt in the room, as if they had been having so much fun before this scene. It was here and there the two would become best friends to the very end.

... so I guess it means the reckoning is upon us.

“MARK LEE I SWEAR TO THE FU--” “WHAT! WHAT!?” Mark laughs.

"YOU ATE MY BAGEL! AGAIN!" I growl in a loud whisper, throwing the wrapper at him and his flat head before he could think to dodge it while he annoyingly laughs.

"I asked if I could have it though!" he says, fully knowing his sins.

I glared at him and say lowly, "I thought you were referring to my notes, bread for brains."

Mark snorts loud enough for our teacher to wake up from his nap. Once the class notices, we all pretend to be doing something productive and Mark plays it off with a cough.

"Mr. Lee." Mr. Kim says sternly, clicking his tongue, blinking his eyes rapidly.

Mark finishes coughing and turns to our seated professor, "Yes sir."

"Don't go to school if you're sick and going to cause a racket with your coughing."

Mark nods firmly and Mr. Kim closes his eyes again, mumbling, "page 65 is due tomorrow."

The entire class grumbles. Mark beside me scoffs and makes a face, "Yeah, yeah, Doyoung."

I turn to him and elbow his side.

"Whatever," Mark shakes his head, "professor bunny-teeth won't hear me."

Once class ended, we both get our things and head out for lunch. We walk to our canteen, fussing over assignments, deciding we should do it together later in our mutually free period.

I groan and narow your eyes at him as we have an argument over how he hasn't finished the essay for English, "That's not the point."

"Yo Mark!" a voice calls from afar. Mark and I turn, looking for the voice, and I spot the dimpled senior, Jung Jaehyun, in a table with the rest of his squad.

I nudge Mark and point at the pale guy seated by the corner.

Mark throws him a smile and waves. I follow closely behind him as he walks over to the table. "We're going to sit with them?" I say in some sort of gasp.

"Yeah." Mark replies simply, not bothering to turn to me, "they're cool."

I knit my brows at that and nod, "Yeah I know. But I'm not cute today."

Mark stops in his tracks and throws me a confused look, "what?"

"I didn't put any make-up on today, also I'm pretty sure there's a visible stain somewhere on my jacket, I just don't remember where."

Mark scrunches his face up again, even more confused. "What? How do you... forget a stai-- that's not the point. Why do you wanna look cute today?" He scoffs and continues lowly, "hardly as if you ever look cute."

I let out an annoyed groan and punch Mark's shoulder. "Like when you panicked when Seulgi came over and asked for notes."

Mark openes his mouth, "That is so not the same! Jaehyun's a fuck bo-"

"Just shut up already," I snap and shove him forward so he'd continue walking. "Let's not keep him waiting," I add and mumble, "also I know. Dong Sicheng however is very cute."

Mark chuckles, "he's dated every girl on the dance team."

"Okay, maybe not that cute."

"Ya, Mark," Jaehyun grins and greets the said person with a high-five and chest bump. He turns to me and speaks my name with a smile. I smile back politely and wave.

I'm about to sit next to Sicheng, but Mark shoves me and so I end up sitting on the other side of the bench table with Jaehyun. I turn to Jaehyun with a small, non-awkward smile and shoot Mark a glare. He seems unbothered though.

"So, you up for a round later?" Jaehyun asks Mark.

Mark talks over me, "you know it, dude."

Jaehyun flashes his dimple smile all the stupid girls fall for. I'm only half falling for it cause I'm only half stupid. He raises his brows, "you bought the dough, right?"

This makes me knit my brows.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I really did this time," Mark mumbles quickly. "It's my turn anyway."

Jaehyun gives an off look, "that's literally what you said last time bro."

"Yo, no for real. It's in my bag, if you wanna check."

Jaehyun shakes his head when Mark begins to scramble for it, "no, Lee, it's good. We wouldn't want you friend to get dirty."

Is it just me or do you feel slimey all of a sudden?

Jaehyun then gives me a somewhat, somehow sincere smile, "so. I hear you're in fashion design."

I give a soft chuckle, "yeah. That's me."

"I could tell from a mile away. Mark looks horrible next to your getup."

I look down at my sweater and ripped jeans. Mark exclaims in protest, "shut the hell up, Jae."

I give a soft smile at Jaehyun, "don't know where that comes from but thanks I guess."

Jaehyun chuckles, "I'm kidding," he eyes Mark, "I saw your Fashion Design pin on your bag when you sat down."

"Oooohhhh, haha, okay, that makes sense."

"Ya, Jeff," Sicheng calls for Jaehyun, "it's almost time."

Jaehyun turns to his friend and nods. He turns back to me and Mark, "well, it's nice to meet you. Mark won't put a sock in it even if I beg. See you around, fashionista."

He stands and slaps Mark's back, "see ya later, broski."

"Yeah, bruh," Mark replies.

Once it's just Mark and I, I snap at him and blurt out in a whisper yell, "YOU'RE ON BROSKI LEVEL WITH JUNG JAEHYUN?!"

Mark gives me a weird face, "bruh, I think he calls the principal broski, for real."

I smack Mark, making him whine, "you know what I'm talking about, Mark! And what, are you doing drugs?!?"

He shakes his head in confusion, "Wait, what!? Who the hell told you that?"

"Uhhhhh you were talking about dough and showing up later. Sounds like you owe him money for drugs, Mark."

"??? In what universe did we even mention drugs?? Does this," he slaps his face, "look like a face of a drug addict to you?"

"A gullible idiot maybe."

Mark's jaw drops, "oh wow, okay. I'm done with this conversation." He proceeds to stand attempt to walk away. I scoff, "not on my watch bitch."

Like the true idiot that he is, Mark begins to legit run away from me, like a criminal who stole my cookies. It's embarrassing that he, a man much taller than I, could not even outrun me. I suppose I should be grateful, but this just fortifies my thoughts of him being an idiot even more.

But okay... I wasn't actually expecting this... like... Mark and Jaehyun... like... actually baking bread after school with dough Mark premade at home. Also, uh, Jaehyun looks super cute in an apron that I'm having a mental breakdown. And what's new, so does Mark.

"I can't believe you thought I was a drug dealer," Jaehyun says in a soft pout as he rolls out dough on the marble counter of his friggin large kitchen in his friggin large house. Like dang, I knew he was rich, but he's like Rich™ Rich. Rich with a golden diamond encrusted Rolex watch rich that's in a glass display rich-- wtf.

Mark wheezes in his telltale high pitched laugh as he opens a pack of unsweetened chocolate pellets, "she thought dough was some sort of metaphor or something."

"Cute," they say at the same time. Mark turns to Jaehyun in slight surprise and Jaehyun turns to me. I roll my eyes, though I feel my neck burn. I avert my attention to the scene I was sketching on my pad, Jaehyun and Mark baking croissants. I clear my throat, "I'm just making use of the single braincell between us, cause if he doesn't die falling down the stairs, he's gonna pull some idiotic stuff like baking with Jung Jaehyun."

Oddly, it's Mark that reacts to that with a, "hey!"

Jaehyun rubs his chin on his shoulder, "I also can't believe you think so little of me.'

I break a sweat but decide to answer honestly, "... ... ... You have a reputation."

"Of being a fuck boy?"

Mark loudly transfers the chocolates into a metal bowl, making the two of us snap at him. Mark makes a face, "oh gosh, sorry."

Jaehyun sighs, "well. I admit I get around, but that's only because I get dumped every time."

I raise a brow.

Jaehyun purses his lips, "nah, let's not make this weird. The croissants will be flat."

"Dude," Mark turns to him, "that's literally only because you messed up the recipe."

Jaehyun grits his teeth, "no. It's because Kun's a little teacher's pet and sabotaged me so he could get the best grade."

"No, but like Kun is really nice, he helped me with the fold techinique."

Jaehyun scoffs, "He stole me vanilla extract, Mark. Who does that?!"

"No, listen, he's cool, like, for real--"

"No, you listen, he's a little shit and--"

The two begin to bicker like a married couple, and I begin to draw inspiration form the scene to design some random sketches of wedding dresses.

I look back to the two and still can't get over the fact that I learned Jaehyun was a culinary arts major with my best friend, and that I was currently in the Jung's boojie home because I thought Mark was buying drugs from him. Not what I was expecting at all my day to go like, but I'm not mad this is how it went.

"No, no, no, no," Jaehyun says. He turns to me and points, "let's just get an outside opinion. Babe, what's your favorite color?"

"BABE?!" Mark barks.

I take a moment to reply. I blink slowly, "uhh... pink?"

Jaehyun bites his lower lip and claps his flour covered hands, "Right. Pink croissants it is."

Mark shoots him a glare and turns to me, back to Jaehyun, "she has a name."

Jaehyun nods, "yeah, and she wants pink croissants."

Mark makes a face and Jaehyun examines it, chuckling under his breath. "Wah, you two are something, huh."

No one really responds.

We began to always eat lunch with Jaehyun and his friends. It's funny cause I realized Jaehyun, although I still firmly believed he was out to get nasty with every other girl he sees, he was actually just like Mark. A total loser with a love for cooking.

"Hey," Mark says with a snippy tone.

I give him a look and suddenly receive a paper bag to my face. Mark sits on his chair next to me, as per usual. I smell the thing before I realize what it is. It's a freshly baked bagel. I perk up and smile, "Aw, you baked me a bagel?"

Mark raises his upper lip, "no. Jaehyun did."

I knit my brows, "what? Why?"

Mark narrows his brows, "do you, like, like him?"

I give him a look. I take a bite of the bagel, making Mark look at me in disbelief. I answer, "You do know I only hang with him cause you do, right?"

"Then why'd you eat the bagel then?"

"Uh, a number of reasons. 1) it's a bagel, 2) free food, 3) I'm starving, 4) it smells amazingggg."

Mark does a face, "fair. I've been meaning to ask how he does his seasoning for a while now too." He releases a breath, "and anyway, I'm pretty sure he made a bagel cause I told him you liked them. Never talking about you to him anymore though."

I look at him, "why do you talk about me so much to him anyway?"

"Uh because you're amazing," Mark says instinctively.

I feel my heart skip at that. I coo and place my hands on my chest, "wait that's really sweet."

Mark looks at me. His face begin to shift, "too bad it's a lie- haha."

I give him a look and rebut, "jerk."

"Loser."

As quickly as I found out about Jaehyun being Mark's friend, that's about as quickly as I found out he didn't like hanging out with him anymore. It's kind of a shame I never got to go back to his boojie house.

There was this one encounter I had with Jaehyun though... which was a little weird, not gonna lie.

He was waiting for me outside my Tailoring class, smiling and waving when he saw me. I Reluctantly reciprocated and walked over to him.

He releases a breath, "I've been waiting for about 20 minutes for you. I didn't know when your class would end."

I raise my brows, "you could have asked?"

"Well I would need your number for that, and that would have ruined the surprise," he pulled out a brown paper bag, reminiscing the same one Mark chucked at my face.

"I made you two this time," he smiles.

I take a moment to reply, "you don't have to make me bagels, Jaehyun."

He grabs my hand, "yeah, but I want something out of ya," he places the bagels in my hand. He proceeds to lead us off and we begin to walk down the hall.

Truth be told, it's a little scary that his ulterior motive is up in the air. Jaehyun places his hands in his pockets, "I like your dress, by the way."

I smile, "thanks. I made it."

He smiles and nods, "right. That makes sense as to why it suits you well."

I can't help but blush at that, and simultaneously feel conscious when I realize a bunch of girls in my course are looking at me and Jaehyun as we strut down the hall.

"So, what did you want, Jaehyun?"

"Well, I clearly wanted to ask you out."

"..."

"..."

Jaehyun smiles and give a soft laugh, "is it so ground breaking?"

"... Uh..."

He sniggers, "hey, you can say no. I mean I hope you don't but you can." Jaehyun leans in and raises his hands, "I won't like it, but a man should take rejection from a lady well."

I turn to him as he straightens up. I turn to the bagels he made me and bring it back to him. He laughs, "no, I made them for you really. It's not poisoned, in fact it's made with love."

I visibly react to that, which makes Jaehyun wheeze. I can't help but laugh back, "that was hella tacky."

"Worth a shot though," he says. "Good luck with Mark."

I look at him with silence and he chuckles, "ya, you can't fool me."

I'm about to retort but then Jaehyun gets called by one of the frats dudes I identify as Johnny Seo. Jaehyun does a curtsy and clicks his tongue, "see ya later babez."

"You know, I would have said yes if you didn't do stuff like that."

Jaehyun purses his lips, "no you wouldn't."

I shrug, "worth a shot though."

Jaehyun places a hand on his chest, dramatically calling, "Uh, rejection hurts, man."

Yeah, I never went to Jaehyun's boojie house ever again.

Silver lining though was Mark's dorm smelled equally as nice because of all the food he cooks, although it came with a whiff of axe body spray from his roommate, Lucas. It's cool though, he was almost never around for me to smell it in its whole intensity.

"Aite," Mark calls from his side of the dorm. I perk up from the two seater dining table they had and turn to Mark who was covering the cake he was making for his finals.

"Don't, like, peek, okay. I want you to see the cake all at once and give me your honest reaction to it. Please, like, all my lives kinda depend on it."

"How many lives do you have?"

"9, I'm pretty sure."

I stand from my seat, "not you faking your life as a cat, but get it I guess."

Mark raises a hand at me as I walk over, "can you not, I'm high-key panicking right now."

"Over what? You literally made a box of donuts for your midterms and it looked better than Misty Mreme! I'm sure your cake is hot."

"It was in the minifridge for a day. I mean it barely fit cause of all of Lucas' mountain dew."

I groan, "just show me it, Mark Lee!"

Mark whined and dashes over to me, grabbing my shoulders, "okay, but like, don't be mean about it. I swear, I might cry."

I give a sound and fake cough, "it's ugly."

Mark doesn't respond to that particular jab, "I'm serioussss. Please be kind, okay?"

I look at Mark's nervous face and give a soft pout, "Markie, please, not that I think it would be ugly, but I promise you don't have to be nervous about my reaction."

He isn't soothed by that, but he does release a sigh, "okay. So for context, Mr. Moon wanted the cake to be one or two tiers, but I went with one, cause there aint no way I'm going to the other side of the campus to freeze a two tiered cake. Then, the theme was something from your childhood, so, I, uh, thought this was fitting. The exam is 60 percent decoration, 40 percent taste by the way."

Mark gives me a hesitant look, but steps way for me to see it. I then see a heart shaped, medium sized cake in my favorite pastel pink color. By the top there's a little boy on the floor playing with a toy oven set and little girl in a bumble bee dress, holding a stethoscope. At the bottom of the cake, there were jelly letters spelling out, "I like you."

I cup my cheeks at the sight of it and feel my eyes start to well at the sentiment.

Wait... was this really happening?

Mark heaves in and out, "okay, so like when Jaehyun began to like hit on you, that sucked pretty hard because he's known for getting girls and I thought maybe he'd get you too and I got panicky. Anyway, I....... have liked you since we were kids... And... I know you probably don't feel the same way but I have to try, you know.... Yolo."

My feel my tears retract from what I hear. I rub my eyes. I turn to Mark and find his nervous face. "Did you just say yolo in your confession, Mark?"

He looks like he's about to throw up.

I can't help but chuckle and pout, "dude..."

I prolong the moment. Mark gets even more nervous as he repeats softly, "dude..."

"We could have dated in grade school all this time."

It takes a moment to register in his head.

Like, a really long moment.

I sigh, "Mark! I like you too, dummy."

He freezes and blinks. His face begins to burn. He breaks into a soft smile, "nice."

I break into a laugh.

"... Uh... So... Can I like... Kiss you?"

I snort and feel my own cheeks begin to burn, "I think you should refrigerate your cake first."

Mark snaps out of this trance, "oh shoot, you-" I give him a quick peck on the lips.

He is dumbfounded.

I feel butterflies go wild in my stomach.

"I'll wait over there for when you've fixed that."

Mark watches as I walk away, "yooo.... That's not fair though."

[leam1983]

On Cultural Respect

So, unless you've been living under a rock, chances are you've heard of Air Canada before. It's my country's biggest privatized air transportation and freight providers, and you'd sort of expect it to follow along with its native country's two official languages. Things were apparently more flexible back when Air Canada was nationalized - Federal overwatch left posts open for Francophone and bilingual executives at all levels - but now, in the years following its privatization, spotting someone at an airport gate who speaks French is a bit of a gamble. It wouldn't be a problem for much of my generation, if not for the fact that the half of the deux solitudes I actually don't come from wallows in its self-isolation and tends to shift the blame on the other cultural group...

If you visit Montreal, one of those days, you'll realize the city's informally split between East and West. The island's Eastern half is largely bilingual and Francophone, and caters to our diaspora of cultures as well as French. We Francophones feel entitled to expect basic pleasantries in our language, as far as the service industry is concerned - and in the East, that's mostly how it goes. Either that 22 year-old from Dawson or Concordia doesn't fluently speak French but makes an effort to append a bonjour or an au revoir, or they're fully bilingual - and thusly grasp the cultural richness that's found as soon as you have access to two or more languages.

Then there's Westmount - and other parts of the province like it. See the Eastern Townships in a few rare cases, or a few boroughs in Saint-Lambert; or even as far up north as a few south-shore boroughs of Quebec City. Little islands - pockets of a sort - where buses have unilingual ads plastered on their sides, where storefronts reduce French to chicken-scratch Legaleze, and usually where the locals' roots in the province's legislative aspects comfort them in their notion that they just don't need to make an effort. They listen to CHOM-FM or Q92 - excellent radio stations in their own right - they read at Borders and Indigo, and watch Global, CTV and our local pickup of Vermont's ABC substation.

Everything's provided for them. It's comfortable and cozy.

Contrast with my situation, where I was more or less brigaded into Enriched English lessons from a very young age like a lot of people in my generation, because our parents had realized just how damning it is to not be able to communicate with your neighbours - especially when they won't make an effort.

So I picked up English. When the day's young and I'm not too tired, I can pass for a BC or Prairies native. Past six or seven PM, my québécois roots show a bit more; smoothing out my Rs requires a bit more effort. I don't stop putting it in, though. It's part of my job. Clients won't give a shit if I momentarily sound like Mel Blanc's Jacque Blacque Shellacque; I still have to speak to them in their preferred idiom. From very early on, we're taught that bilingual abilities are a mark of respect, of cultural openness, of greater understanding. Paradoxically, we're almost not shocked at all to see that the other half of the province doesn't share this attitude.

Not only that, but when we're left to politely ask for a bit of consideration, the unilingual Anglophones now steal bits from the Social Justice crowd, calling us racist for requesting that we at least have the option of being served in our own language!

I've had friends from the other half of the deux solitudes for many years. They're never coaxed into learning French, never shown translated works from Molière, Voltaire or even Alfred Jarry to so much as evoke some interest; and they aren't even told of what happens when initially unilingual English-speakers like Samuel Beckett did, when learning of the expressive capacity of my native language. Dude's a Scotsman by birth, and he penned an entire freaking novel in French.

Waiting for Godot? Originally written in French, by a depressive and alcoholic Scot who spotted some sort of beauty in my consonants and my love of adjectives.

And these friends' responses were always contrite, at first. It's not their fault, French wasn't really favored on their curriculum, or it just wasn't reallly spoken at home. It's not their fault, they've spent thirty-plus years getting by in Longfellow's tongue by never leaving the West-Island or Saint Lambert's more Anglo sectors!

That makes you wonder: who's actually isolated, here? Who's bricking themselves up? Sure as shit isn't me; I'm writing in English right now, in all of my native québécois status! Who actually promised these kids that sort of ease, this condescending assertion that they'd never need to speak more than one language in a country with two official idioms? What if I told you that Innu communities are pushing hard so that Inuktitut, Algonquin or even Mohawk also reach Official Language status? I've made some effort as far as Cree locals are concerned, seeing as people near Maliotenam speak French, English and Cree. I won't be able to carry an entire conversation in one of the local Native American idioms - yet - but I've at least reached the point where my Kweih is usually well-timed. As for things beyond hellos and goodbyes, I'm still actively following classes online.

As to why, I've always seen that Francophones and Natives share the same basic relationship with the country's Anglophone infrastructure. We're grudgingly-tolerated annoyances, and it's easy to sense that the Other Half would love it if we could just shut up and speak White. That's actually part of the problem: I'm White as the driven snow, but Francophones spent generations being talked down to the same level as POCs elsewhere in North America. We were ushered to the backs of buses, assigned our own bathrooms - hi there, Rosa Parks! - and told to stick to "our" part of town.

The working-class part. The ghetto. Where the have-nots congregate.

Except, that's changed, since the sixties. Not only that, but French is a hot commodity, now. The media have noticed that there's a lot of expertise in Quebec, and it's led to the establishment of giants like Framestore or Ubisoft Montreal. They're all based in those parts of town where the uneducated used to pile up in row-houses while subsisting on bread and molasses, and those same streets are well and truly gentrified, now. They're also the bastion of the local LGBTQA community, where there's much less resistance to expect.

Again, as with the Natives, misery loves company. It's easier to hook up, find someone to share a few drinks with and get closer to, if all linguistic barriers are left aside. I'm not much for empty dalliances, but I've shared a few drinks with delightful guys named anything between Andrew, Peter, James or Eric - with their Anglophone surnames, who handled my native tongue with a pleasant lilt and the kinds of omissions you just have to chuckle to, and immediately forgive. Zero shame, no fear of malaproprisms - all in the certainty I'd meet them halfway if they felt their linguistic floor more or less bust out from underneath their feet.

Me, one of the White Niggers of North America. If that usage of the N-word offends you, know that's it's been established for generations, in the current context. The guys I drink with at the Café Kilo don't have the same baggage with French as their parents and grandparents do, but the Boomers and those of the Greatest Generation still see an albatross hanging from my neck: I'm only a second-language English speaker. Friends of these same guys reap the drawbacks of that approach: they don't learn a bit of it, then enter the service industry as so many students do, and are forced to flash contrite smiles when someone who didn't have a bilingual English education steps into their Hipster shoe store.

I probably picked up the grammatical uses for Kweih as fast as they picked up Désolé, je ne parle pas français...

All of that, to circle back to Air Canada. Michael Rousseau, the current CEO, is on the hot seat for refusing to so much as pick up the local pleasantries for all of his fifteen years in Montreal. He, as expected, lives in Saint-Lambert and works in Westmount, and never felt the slightest bit of compulsion to pick up his own employees' language.

Today, it's ridiculously tough to get an Air Canada gate with a stewardess that speaks French. Service counters are as difficult to handle as Canada Post's online and phone-based components.

If you're from the Canadian or Anglo-Québécois arm of Tumblr and you read this, commend yourself if you're one of those making an effort, even if it's just to land the occasional Merci beaucoup. If you aren't, ask yourself what's stopped you. Did you pick up on the internalized shame of a lot of the unilingual Anglophones in the province? They were never taught, they're afraid of being embarrassed - so they never try.

Don't be afraid. Yeah, sure, there's jackasses on both sides of the issue, fuckers who'll cuss you out for speaking in English and morons who'll condescend if you speak French - but most of us are moderates, here.

Just try. Once or twice, just a little. Don't be a Michael Rousseau, don't lie to yourself and say you're too busy or that you never needed to work on that, before. I never needed to work on my English, and I still did. I did so because I wanted to read more books, watch more TV and play more video games.

I see it as a mark of respect - and you should, too.

[sleepymarmot]

Ex Machina

A true liveblog this time! I couldn’t stop pausing to scream.

A round of applause for successfully establishing Nathan as creepy and predatory within the first 10 minutes. I’m ultra rich and own this entire region and we’re the only two people within miles and you’re my employee here for free so it’s an honor and we’re in a small bare room underground with no windows which I assigned to you, also you’re a weedy nerd and I’m lying on “your” bed still sweaty from when I was practicing boxing earlier. Now sign this extremely invasive NDA please or you’ll regret it :) 

“The Turing test is when a human doesn’t know they’re interacting with a computer. Congratulations, you’re a human component in a Turing test”. Uh, am I supposed to immediately notice the contradiction? Edit 5 minutes later: Oh I was, cool.

Oh my god absolutely everything Nathan does in the post-first-meeting scene makes me seethe. Great job everyone. I look pissed when you’re excitedly talking about our experiment because “I wanna have a beer and a conversation with you, not a seminar”, oh my god, I hate this guy so much.

Me: Caleb is shot as if there are secret surveillance cameras in his room. Film 30 seconds later: there are surveillance cameras in Ava’s room :)

Oh god he’s trapped underground in this claustrophobic room, this is genuinely creepy

Good news there are more people here, bad news it’s a beautiful young Japanese female servant in a minidress who’s quiet as a robot and also enters Caleb’s room without asking as he sleeps??

Ava: “Do you like Nathan?” *a closeup on a surveillance camera*

As much as I love to hate Nathan, the choice of name and actor is kinda sus, nationality-wise :/

Love Ava so much, what a clever conspirator. I hope Caleb doesn’t betray her

*yells at Kyoko* “She doesn’t understand English* ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

“Hey Kyoko? *makes a gesture* Go-go” OH I’M GONNA REACH THROUGH THE SCREEN AND STAB THIS GUY IN THE FACE

“After the job was done I just had them all killed” *doesn’t even pretend it was a joke*

“There was one interesting thing that happened with Ava today” BITCH DON’T DO IT -- Oh thank god.

Okay, “search engines are a map of how people are thinking” is kinda bullshit

tfw Ava puts on clothes and you realize a) she’d been naked the entire time before b) she knew she’d been naked the entire time before

Why does this “one old” take dating and attraction so seriously and personally Nathan what have you been talking to her about

don’t watch her undress you asshole I’m so disappointed in you

Well at least he’s asking the right questions

“Why would someone interact with someone else without wanting to fuck them? Anyway sexuality is fun, man :)” Oh god this fucking guy

Oh god it got worse. “Real question” oh my god. Please tell me this guy dies painfully

“I programmed her to be heterosexual. Just like you were programmed to be heterosexual” aaaaaargh

Kyoko and Ava should unionise. (If Kyoko dies I’m gonna be so pissed)

“I’m like her dad, right?” *narrows eyes*

She’s fully dressed again, good for her :)

I’m only halfway through but it feels like the film should be heading to the final act already

I’m tired and can’t liveblog every horrid thing that goes on screen by now. Can we, like, cathartically burn it all to the ground now

I had my suspicions about Kyoko

Dude don’t do that shit it’s dangerous, a small cut would have sufficed

Nooo don’t say your plan out loud especially when it’s 30 minutes until the end, now it’s not gonna work

So the forced romance was fake, nice

“I figured you were probably watching us during the power cuts” oh my god this is some Death Note shit, didn’t expect that

THE TIGER. SHE HAS DESTROYED HER CAGE. YES YES THE TIGER IS OUT

Oh no Kyoko :((

You’re really telling me Kyoko died from one hit to the chin?! Come on!!

In the light of the above also not great how Ava is literally disassembling her Asian predecessor’s body to reuse for her own

Aw no, I don’t want Ava to turn evil now :(

Nooo that’s a horrible fate and Caleb didn’t deserve it :(

Like seriously, sure he got some dumb ideas in the process but his heart was mostly in the right place and it’s a worse death than the literal villain got

On an ideological level, this turns the message of the movie very sharply to “feminism is dangerous because women will just oppress men the way men have been oppressing women”. For the entire film I’ve been wondering how the hell something this feminist could have been created by a man, and maybe I’ve been misremembering and the director was a woman after all. Now I see. It was made by a man after all, one who cannot fully relate to female liberation and is afraid of it. 

Sigh. Such a good movie ruined ideologically by its ending :( (Well. And by racial politics.)