#i finessed it a little bit but this shoot had great lighting

[maximura]

[stylesnews]

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive.  So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed.

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost.  Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always.  We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement.  We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.  

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (4/5)

Still working on this for @peachworthy. Should wrap up sometime this week or next and then the full thing'll get posted to AO3. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 here for now!

They decide to do it on a Saturday night.

Link has the weekend off from work and no classes. Rhett’s schedule is also free. They discuss the matter in terse terms, both seeming nervous about the idea, but neither backing down.

As such, Saturday rolls around with little fanfare until late into the evening. An evening that finds Link sitting on the couch, one of his legs jiggling and bouncing about as he waits for Rhett.

Rhett comes out to the living room holding a pillow and he offers it to Link. Link looks at it with some confusion and his friend clears his throat, eyes darting away, “For your lap.”

“My-?” Link looks down and then to Rhett and then…oh. Link colors, realizing that the pillow is to be used in order to cover any potentially ‘arising’ situation on his part. Feel exposed yet stubborn, he remarks dryly, “Don’t think I’ll need that.”

Rhett lets out a loud laugh and pats him in the chest with it, “Trust me. If I’ve done my job right? You will.”

“…point taken,” Link says softly and he takes the pillow, settling it over his crotch. To be fair, he probably will pop wood. After all, he sometimes pops it when Rhett’s full clothed.

Nude?

Yeah.

Link presses down on the pillow harder, even the errant thought of a nude Rhett causing a stirring. Rhett walks to the television and fiddles with the remote.

An app that Link’s noticed before, but never bothered with, is clicked on. Erotes Plus. The screenshots for the videos that come up are…certainly something. Link looks away, almost overwhelmed by all the bare flesh before him. The titles of the videos are also a bit much. Rhett notices and Link can hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “Prude.”

Link scowls and glares back at him and the screen. He is nota prude. However, titles such as ‘Lonely Housewife Squirts for The First Time’ and ‘He Rides His Daddy Dry’ would take anybody aback. At least Link would like to think so – he supposes some people are more immune than others. After all, his own history with porn is on the small side.

During puberty he’d taken his healthy peeks at nude magazines and a few of his friends had snuck out adult VHS tapes to check out, but for the most part it hadn’t interested him. Granted, this was probably due to his eventual discovery that – while he appreciated the female form – it didn’t draw his interest quite like the male one did.

And finding gay porn? Where he grew up? Yeah, pretty much a completely impossibility. And then – when he’d finally managed to snag some – it had, once more, disappointed. It all just seemed so cold and callous. Like a business transaction with a boatload of grunting. Not at all to his tastes.

Rhett, scrolling through the videos, finally finds one titled simply ‘Movement’ and turns to Link with an apprehensive glance, “Still plenty of time to say ‘no’.”

Link’s throat is dry. Unlike some of the other screenshots, this one is vaguer. It’s two forms silhouetted in shadow. One of those forms is Rhett. Link feels numb as he speaks, “I’m good.”

Rhett clicks the video and it begins.

He moves over and sits near Link, lounging against the other side of the couch in an oh-so-casual way. As if an adult video starring him hasn’t just begun to play.

The film opens with a lithe redhead in a yoga outfit doing various poses. While this is being shown the title card appears followed by the starring and since Link highly doubts Rhett goes by ‘Jenessa Star’, he can’t help but chuckle at, “‘Donatello Velvet’?”

“What?” Rhett asks simply and Link gestures to the television, “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Problem?”

“That’s the screen name you chose?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just don’t see you as a ‘Donatello’,” Link grins at him and Rhett laughs, rubbing one finger along his top lip thoughtfully, “What would you’d’ve gone with then?”

“If I was doing adult film?” Link asks and at Rhett’s nod, he crosses his arms and thinks, “I don’t know…Bevin, maybe?”

Rhett tosses his head back and laughs and Link feels a fissure of delight at that sound, just as he always does. He turns back and the redhead’s poses have become…much more complex. Almost painful looking as she contorts herself to degrees Link wouldn’t think possible and then she rises, stretching out and that’s when Rhett enters.

Or maybe it would be better to think of it as Donatello enters. Yes, it’s a little easier that way and Link does his best to cling to that, to try and stay nonchalant as he offers dryly, “Well, well – there’s a familiar lookin’ fella.”

Rhett just hums and they both watch as he walks up to the woman. He runs his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, whispering into her neck huskily, “Good form.”

Link can’t help but let out a snort. Rhett rolls his eyes, “Okay, okay – I know, I know. Dialogue’s a bit-?”

“Bad?”

“…it could use some improvement.”

“Uh huh,” Link just beams and hey, this isn’t so bad. Cheesy and kind of silly and maybe it will just stay like this. Light and fun. For all Link knows, they won’t even watch the whole thing. Maybe just some of it and then they can turn on something els-!

Rhett begins kissing Jenessa’s neck, white teeth visibly dragging along her skin and Link’s whole body tightens. A phantom sting starts along the same side of his neck that Rhett’s touching on Jenessa. Jenessa’s whole throat arches back, a pleasured moan leaving her and Rhett’s tongue is…very pink.

Link’s Adam’s apple bobs as he says (much huskier than he’d like) “N-Nice camera work…”

Rhett just hums, “Mac’s always had a good eye.”

“Mac?”

“Mackenzie, the director of this one.”

Link just lets out a sound of acknowledgement as he watches Rhett reach around Jenessa and tug at her tank top. Tug until her small, pointed breasts pop free. He cups them in his hands and he has��great hands.

They looks so tan against her skin, palms rough and big, and Jenessa lets out a full throttle moan. Rhett teases the pink tips, fingertips agile as they play along the sensitive flesh, as they circle around her areolas.

She whimpers and turns, kisses him fully, passionately, and it’s…messy. Wet. Link can feel his whole heart thump hard at the sight. Janessa’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s – cropped close to her scalp and Rhett’s hands have abandoned her chest to run through the short strands.

Link barely stops himself from reaching up and touching his own hair, instinctively wanting to mimic how that might feel. To imagine Rhett doing it to him.

He tries not to fidget and talking, talking will help, “Surprised this isn’t more, ah, instant.”

Rhett shrugs, “Foreplay’s a thing, man.”

“No, I know,” Link knows his voice pitches a little high at this, defensive, “Just…figured, mean...’s porn…”

“Some of the earlier videos on here are like that, but when EP got bought out, the new owners took the company in a different direction.”

“EP?”

“Erotes Plus. The platform these films are on,” Rhett explains and then he starts mentioning a few things about different production companies and distributors and the like, but Link is too distracted because Jenessa is now fully naked and Rhett is on his knees between her legs, feasting on her moist lower lips.

The silken tip of his tongue is parting her, dancing along the bundle of nerves that is her clit and her head is tossed back on a loud, wild whine.

Her pale body undulates and she’s gripping his long hair so hard. Link feels as if he’s having an out of body experience. This is his roommate. His friend. The man he’s secretly in love with.

And he’s pleasuring this woman with such…focus. With intensity and finesse and when he rises, his erection is clear, straining at the linen pants that are containing it. Link points to the screen weakly, “Hippie clothes.”

The comment is stupid and unhelpful, but Rhett just laughs, “Yeah – kinda the theme of this series. I’m like, a Yoga Instructor or something? Least that's the way it was explained to me, so – linen pants, cotton top – I mean, we’ve had better costumes, but for this shoot-!”

Rhett is talking some more but, again, Link is barely listening. His eyes are transfixed by what’s taking place on the screen. Janessa easily strips off Rhett’s shirt and then his pants and – No. Underwear.

Link is seeing Rhett’s dick. It’s there…thick, but not as big as his own, a visible vein running along one side. Dusky dark and with a blushing pink tip and gently curling hair hiding his full, taunt sack…

“Link? Buddy? You doin’ alright?”

“Fine.”

“Lookin’ like you seen a ghost," Rhett teases, but there’s a breathless quality to his words, “My body all that bad?”

Link just shakes his head and watches as Jenessa strokes Rhett, as his head falls back and he lets out a shuddering gasp that Link feels in his very bones.

Link is suddenly very, very thankful for the pillow that bobs some as it reacts to the situation taking place beneath it. That situation being Link’s own dick perking upwards, making his jeans tight and constrictive.

“You…?” Something Rhett said finally seems to click in Link’s head, “You said this is a series?”

“Yup,” Rhett murmurs and now the film shows him pressing Jenessa against one of the studio walls and she raises one leg high. Insanely high. It’s a very gymnastic level move and Rhett slots his cock up with her opening, sliding hard and deep into her body.

Jenessa lets out a wail of pleasure as he presses in and she holds that leg up – all strength and grace as he begins to move within her at a steady rhythm.

Her hips answer some, but it’s more about how…open she is. And how deep he’s getting. They’re eyes are locked as he picks up his pace, rocketing in and out of her, shaking her whole form with his thrusts, her tiny breasts jiggling with each movement and movement, they call this…

“Got an award for this one.”

Thank God. That one comment draws Link back to some semblance of sanity even as his body quickens with an unspeakable longing, a carnal hunger that aches, “Really?”

“Uh huh,” Rhett says with no small amount of pride, “Best Sex Scene.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I mean, I owe it to her to be honest,” he waves to the screen, “She’s the one turning herself into a pretzel throughout this thing. Same for the rest of ‘em. They kept finding co-stars for me to work with who had had extensive training in this sort of body contortion. It was just my job to, uh, well…”

Rhett waves again and the answer is obvious: to fuck them through it. Link is not at all limber. In fact, he’s kind of a klutz. Nothing to match up with someone like this.

For some reason, this realization leaves him hollow. Cold. His arousal dims some, “Where’d you get the award from?”

“XRCO.”

Link makes some sound that would imply he understands, but he doesn’t. Rhett sighs, “Got nominated for Most Popular Male Performer on Pornhub but lost to Johnny Rockwell. Guy deserved it though. Performance he did that year was nuts.”

Link’s lost in the vocal cacophony that is erupting from the television speakers. Moans, gasps, grunts, cries of sheer ecstasy as Rhett and Janessa really ramp it up.

They’re in a different position now, Jenessa’s body once more arched at a crazy angle and Rhett's just...really getting in there. His hips are pumping double time, like a jackhammer, and she is loving it.

Her blue eyes are flashing with adoration, her lips curled in that moue that speaks to an almost pleasurable pain and Link can’t help but ask, “Are the others with her?”

Rhett takes a moment to process the question and when he realizes Link is asking about the other films in the series, he shakes his head, “Nah, man. You don’t usually have repeating partners. Like I said, they found other people who could bend in weird ways. The sequel to this sees me with Julian St. Croix. Great guy. Really smart. He’s actually working on another doctorate. Plans on working in the tech field when he retires, which – money he’s making, should be pretty damned soon. You want me to dial that up?”

Link just shakes his head. The idea of watching Rhett doing something like this with yet another person and with a man no less…

He feels crappy for, well, feeling crappy. This is Rhett’s job. He shouldn’t take this personally.

Besides, it’s not like Rhett knows how Link feels about him. To him, they’re just friends and he should play the part of friend – be a friend, a good friend, “I can see why you won the award, Rhett. You’re doing a…a great job. Real good acting.”

The sound of the shocked (yet oddly sharp) laughter that leaves Rhett at that actually causes Link to finally look at him.

Rhett’s face is a ruddy red, like he’s embarrassed or something, and he’s looking at Link with a bit of a wildfire in his eyes, “‘Good acting? Are you serious?”

Link finally shifts about on the couch (which feels fantastic considering his body has been fighting off a plethora of sensations for a while now) as he fully turns to him, pillow still firmly in place, “Of course! I mean, it-it seems like you’re really into this girl,” he gestures to the screen, “when you’re doing this and I imagine that’d take some acting chops.”

He chews on his bottom lip and lowers his gaze, hands ghosting over the pillow as he talks to it more than Rhett, “Un-unless you really are into her.”

“Into her?” Rhett pokes one finger over to the television, “Into Janessa?”

“Yeah, I mean…if-if you two are a couple or-or were one or-?”

“Me and Janessa?” Rhett asks incredulously and some of the heat seems to leave him. Link gets the impression that Rhett had, for a moment, been mad or affronted by Link’s well intentioned compliment, but now is completely changing track. Now Rhett seems charmingly baffled, “You think I’m into Janessa?”

“I-I was just saying if you’re not into her in this,” Link waves to the screen where (seeing as the volume is dying down) it would seem the film is reaching its conclusion, “Then the acting is good and if you are-!”

“I’m not,” Rhett confirms firmly, “I am very much not, nor was I ever, into Janessa. We’re friendly, but we’d never work as a couple, man. She likes cats.”

Rhett says the last as if it’s a blasphemy and Link can’t help but giggle, suddenly feeling bright and light even though he knows better than to do so, “Problem?”

“Not a big fan of lil demons…”

“Noted, “Link sighs and he feels much, much better. The film is finally over, he’s seen some of Rhett’s work, and he can now say the following with sheer confidence, “I’m proud of you.”

And with that, Rhett freezes. He freezes solid, back going ram rod straight, and his eyes – they’re as round as dinner plates.

Big and green and looking at Link like’s a wild anomaly and Link worries that maybe he, somehow, inadvertently offended him with the remark so he’s quick to explain, “I-I mean it, bo. I’m proud of you. Going out there and-and doing something like this. Being so…so exposed and vulnerable and for anyone to see and yeah, sure, I mean, I guess it’s just for people to-to beat off to or whatever, but when you think about it, it’s something that brings people pleasure, which is a lot better than bringing something bad into people's lives and I know some would argue that porn is like, some gateway into violent dark tendencies or whatever, but for the average person it’s a good thing to explore and the fact you can so freely provide that to them and not be ashamed-!”

Link is blathering.

He’s a blathering idiot.

But he feels like if he stops talking, Rhett might snap at him. Or be mad. Or-!

But instead Rhett just shakes his head and whispers, “You’re unbelievable.”

Link’s diatribe cuts off. His blood stops in his veins. He feels completely seized.

“I’ve been trying so hard…fighting with everything in me,” Rhett breathes and he just…eases forward, eases closer. He’s in Link’s personal space and Link wonders if he should back up or something.

He can feel the heat coming off Rhett’s skin. His breath is bathing Link’s face as he rasps, “But I can’t anymore. You’ll have to forgive me, but…”

Rhett kisses him.

Rhett. Kisses. Him.

Rhett kisses Link.

Their lips meet in the smallest, quickest, sweetest little peck. The sound of it, the quick wet click of their lips…it’s earth shattering, sound-barrier breaking.

And Link feels his whole nervous system lurch at it. And Rhett is still looking at him, searching his eyes wildly. Link blinks and licks his lips and tries to speak, but there’s nothing to say.

Rhett just grins softly, “Bad for business…that’s what you are…”

Link’s gaze dips to Rhett’s mouth. To his lips. Lips that were on his seconds ago. His eyes feel heavy lidded as he gulps and Rhett just huffs as he kisses him again. Again.

Another kiss and this one is more than just a peck. This one? This one is the one Link’s been dreaming of, the one he’s been wishing for.

This kiss is perfect.

[kingstylesdaily]

How Harry Styles Found His Inner Dancer For 'Treat People With Kindness'

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.  

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive.   So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed. What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost.  Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always.  We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement.  We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to. 

via billboard.com

[ninjakasuga]

Sonally Celebration Week! Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Sonally Celebration Week, Year Three, Day Six: Rescue

Day six, and admittedly the toughest piece to write since well, action scenes require more finesse than a domestic/slice of life story. The journey continues, and since my main focus mostly centers on Sonic and Sally’s post Robotnik/Eggman war peace time lives, I like to flex different events when the prompts give way to good inspiration. When one has to do with rescuing, well, let’s just say, if you’re dumb enough to harm someone’s children, woe comes to you in waves.

Day Six: Rescue.

It was supposed to have been a nice, pleasant day. Go to Spagonia with your big bro and his wife, enjoy flying in a fancy transport ship. While Sonic and Sally do the diplomatic thing, Sonia and Manic would watch J.C. and Kathy as they got to enjoy the city. See the sights, enjoy some ice cream and crepes from the city vendors, and just have a good old time! However, it wasn’t to last, the day was ruined when the sound of their ‘secret tail’ security guards crying out after being, well truthfully Sonia didn’t get to hear what exactly happened to their bodyguards (she hoped they were alive). All she heard was some muffled noise; some people screaming, and suddenly a van rolled up, and people in masks and jumpsuits grabbed and knocked them all out.

After coming too, she woke up to a bag over her head, only to have it torn off, and bright lights flashing in her face. A camera was aimed at them as some jerkoff using a voice-modulating helmet to obscure his identity was making some long list of demands and basically laid out they were collateral if those demands were not met. She tried to make everything out, but she was still groggy from waking up from whatever they used to knock her out. Manic was no better when she asked him if he gleaned anything she missed, sadly he was as groggy as she had been. She knew better than to ask the kids, clearly the six-year-olds were ‘terrified’ and wanted nothing more than to go home and jump into their parents arms.

Hell, the sixteen year old herself wanted to hug her parents just as badly. After that song and dance with the camera, all four were dragged to this cell of sorts, and left there with a guard detail. Whatever they wanted, they seemed to be serious, or at least wanted to come off that way. Her keen eye noticed some of their guards seemed unsettled. Like they were not keen they had kidnapped children. Maybe she, or Manic could use that? A little of the ol’ duo-charm to-.

“Auntie Sonia?” The small, childish voice snapped the older hedgehog out of her thoughts. Instantly her head snapped to the small child resting in her lap.

Forcing a calm smile, Sonia gently petted Kathleen’s soft auburn hair, which had blue tips at the end. Many thought it was dyed, but it was merely something that seemed to happen to both children, who inherited their Mother’s auburn tresses. Yet at the tips, bits of blue would form over time. No doubt the stubbornness of her big brother’s genes at work. Just hand to mingle with Sally’s.

“What’s up kiddo?” She asked her niece as she continued to stroke her head, and did her best to seem calm and collected. She and Manic were the adults here, they needed to be strong for these precious babies.

Green eyes look up, then over to the cell door, then back to Sonia’s own. “I wanna go home.” A simple request, but what child wouldn’t want to go home with this kind of situation abound? “Why do these guys wanna be mean to Mommy and Daddy?”

Another voice spoke up, the disdain high and snark on full. “Cuz they’re- and I quote.” Manic Hedgehog interjected, keeping his voice calm, and then upping the volume as he aimed his words at their guard. “A BUNCHA COWARDS WHO RESORT TO KIDNAPPING KIDS!!” He shouted with full malice at their captors, which made both children recoil, and his sister wince.

“Manic!” Hissed Sonia as she reached out and yanked at his ear. “Stop it! You’re just making it harder for J.C. and Kathy!” She growled at her brother, her eyes going to the door to their cell and sure enough their masked guard had turned to regard them. Thankfully he just turned away and went back to guarding.

“Well these bozos need to know what kind of d*ckless, wussies they are!” Retorted Manic, the green-dyed-furred hedgehog with a growl in his voice. Usually Manic was chill, and easy-going with a touch of mischief. He was running red right now, his niece, nephew and sister being put in danger can do that to someone. “Plus they’re f*cking idiots!”

“Manic, language!” Sonia chastised further as she covered his mouth with a hand. “Not that I disagree with you, but is antagonizing our captors the wisest idea?!”

Removing her hand from his mouth, Manic let out a dismissive snort. Yet his gaze softened some as he saw the kids were looking antsy again. “Maybe not, but seriously what kind of idiots kidnaps the Prince and Princess of a Kingdom? I mean, you want a war? Plus think of their parents, heroes of the war against the Big Robo and Big Eggy! I mean that’s a recipe for doom more than my Taco Tuesday Blowout Cookout.” The food wasn’t the issue, so much as the aftermath, but worth it in Manic’s eyes.

A small rumbling was heard and J.C. blushed as eyes rested on him. “...I’m hungry, and Uncle Manic makes great tacos.” He managed a smile, despite clearly still being scared.”

“Heheh, once we get out I’ll make us all some.” Manic promised as he lovingly scratched the back of his nephew’s ears. He did the same for Kathleen, not wanting her to feel left out. “Also, sorry about the yelling and language, I’m just pis-er-pointedly angry at the bad guys.”

“We’re ‘not’ the bad guys.” Their guard finally spoke, snorting loudly. The way he seemed to clutch his weapon and his covered tail (they seemed intent to make it hard to guess their species) twitch and move, hinted at his anger at such an accusation.

Despite having just chastised Manic for antagonizing their captors; Sonia found herself unable to not engage them. “Not from where we’re standing. Uncouth as my brother put it, he called it right. Nobody who kidnaps children are the good guys.”

“We’re not going to harm you, we’re just sending a message.” His steadfast tone, carried a firmness of whatever convictions he carried about their unknown ‘cause’.

“What sort of message? We’re kidnapping your kids, so we invite you to come kick our butts? Seriously, what else do you expect?” Sonia inquired, keeping her tone polite, hoping perhaps this guard might spill some kernel of information they could use. Then a thought occurred to her. “What happened to the bodyguards watching us? I heard them cry out, did you capture them too or did you kill them?”

“We shot them, but we didn’t shoot to kill.” The guard callously responded. “They should live.”

“Do you know that for a fact? Even a crippling gunshot can lead to death if they bleed out before they get help or the injury causes the right amount of trauma. I heard multiple muffled sounds… If they got shot multiple times that increases the chances they didn’t make it.” The magenta-dyed hedgehog stated with cold, medical fact. “They also had families, so nice job dipwad, you possibly widowed and orphaned two families.” It was petty, but seeing his body language shift and just slightly shake before firming back up gave Sonia a sense of satisfaction. “You could have used stun-blasters.”

The guard hissed back his reply, but she could tell he was trying to justify his words to himself. “You can’t silence stun-blasters.”

Rolling his eyes, Manic decided to chime in. “So you bozos prioritized not making noise, over making your little power grab as bloodless as possible.”

“If they die, our leaders will make it right, all of this has a purpose! It’s to make things better-!”

It wasn’t Sonia or Manic that cut the man off, but J.C.’s small but clearly angry voice. “So making Mr. Hunigan and Mrs. Fletcher dead is alright when you say so?” The boy’s fists clenched tightly. “They were nice people, and we know their kids, they’re our friends… you took their Dad n’ Mom from them you-you, j-jerk!”

“Gee, even the six year old can see it clear as day.” Sonia icily sneered at their captor, scooting closer she slid both her arms around her family and kept them close.

“Mommy, sh-she and Daddy are gonna find us.” Kathleen managed to speak up, wiping her eyes, like her brother managed the most fearsome glare she could. “They’ll find us and kick your butts! They’re heroes, they always save the day!”

Turning, the guard’s helmet, visor and cloth covering their mouth obscured whatever Mobian species they were. “Your parents are part of the problem! If not for the Acorn Kingdom’s meddling along with the other outsider nations, we wouldn’t need to do this!”

“Only meanies justify their actions by blaming others!” Humphed the young princess as she turned her head away, as if to utterly disregard her captor. Oh Sonia and Manic’s heart swelled.

“I gotta agree with Kathy here, sounds like blame-gaming here-.” Manic mused, only to be cut off by their clearly irate captor.

“If they hadn’t meddled with the trade tariffs making exporting goods harder, not to mention their invasive meddling with our affiliate cities-!”

A lightbulb went off in Sonia’s head. “Wait, wait, time out!” She put her hands together in the referee gesture to hopefully get a word in. “You guys are blaming them for the trade issues and the Acorn Kingdom’s presence in your sister cities? Um, dude, hoo boy, you are probably being played by whoever your leaders are.”

“Bite your tongue-!” “Okay you know what, screw that, and kids I’m sorry but-.” After giving her niece and nephew an apologetic look, she quickly sent her captor a fiery glare. “First off, F*CK you! Second, the Kingdom sent delegations to those cities BY REQUEST! The mayors asked for aid in looking into some oddities with exports from Spagonia going in and out because they realized something was hinky with the weird laws and micro-managing coming out of Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry. Any of your Minister’s calling the investigations meddling or preludes to occupation are trying to play the dodge game moron! Second of all, the tariff problem? I shouldn’t say this, but I love talking shop with my sis-in-law, and boy a lot of the issues stem from how they were set up, like someone ‘wanted’ the tariffs to cause issues and sow discord. It’s a big political set-up but my big-brained Sis likes big-brained chess and she’s onto some corruption from within Spagonia’s Trade & Commerce Ministry.”

She watched as the guard looked uneasy, and his compatriot to the far way seemed to be listening in as well and had lowered his weapon some. “That, that can’t be possible.”

Footsteps could be heard as another similarly dressed guard walked into view of the first one. “Ignore them comrade, they’re trying to unnerve you.” “What if it’s true our leaders are lying to us? Given who some of them are-.” “Shut your mouth before you give anything away!” The other, more burly guard hissed as he raised a gloved hand, poised to smack his comrade if he didn’t do as he said. With his associate cowed, he turned to the cell and pointed his weapon. “Shut your mouths or I might just have to shut it for you.”

Manic moved in front of his sister, nephew and niece, arms out. “Touch them buddy, and you and I are gonna tussle!”

“Uncle Manny don’t!” “D-don’t get hurt!” “Manny…” Sonia held the children close, but tried to soothe her brother. “Don’t, they’re clearly too deluded to listen.”

“You will see it is you who is delusional!” The burly captor spoke, with a zeal of a true-believer. “Once it’s clear your Queen and your treacherous nation are outed as the villains they are, things will become bet-.”

Suddenly the entire room rumbled, and the sound of muffled shouts, and fighting could be heard in the other room. All their captors turned toward the metal door just out of view of Sonia, Manic and the children. Suddenly the door flies off its hinges, slamming into the far guard who cried out in pain and terror as they are taken out. A familiar ‘rev up’ sound is heard and then a blue blur slams into the burly captor sending him flying. As the sounds of fists fly, another far off captor raises their weapon, only for the sound of jets to get clouder and a familiar southern drawl is heard shouting. “TAKE A NAP YA’ CREEP!” A blaster bolt is heard firing off screen. Soon a blue energy blast hits the captor, causing them to drop their weapon as the stun-bolt freezes their whole body. As another guard attempts to fight, the flying Rabbot zooms him and body-tackles the would-be-attacker, a loud, thick ‘crunch’ of metal hitting flesh is heard. Clearly a one-hit-KO.

The original guard readies their weapon, trying to pick a target, clearly panicking. “Ho-hold or I’ll shoot!”

*KER-SLICE!!*

Their weapon is cleaved in two, falling from their hands, and in the next half-second, the tip of the weapon responsible is held at their throat. This man finds himself looking into the very, angry blue eyes of the Queen of the Acorn Kingdom herself, Sally Acorn. Wielding an ornate sword with the crest of her family on the hilt, and ornate lines etched into the blade. For a second the guard swore the weapon’s blade glowed for a moment, but whatever the case, it was clear the Sword of Acorns (reforged and imbued with Sally’s residue Super energy) was capable of cutting quite nicely.

Her voice was ever commanding, calm and serene, yet deadly and potent. She was clearly angry, but using said anger as a laser-focused weapon instead of being consumed by it. For now.

“You will let my babies and my younger siblings out of that cell. Now, no questions. If you so much as dare do anything but I ask, you will regret it. Do not force me to spill blood before my children, because you WILL live to regret it.” She vowed.

“N’ she ain’t the only one you need ta’ worry about.” Uttered Bunnie Rabbot, as she got up from pummeling her foe into unconsciousness. She flexed both of her cybernetic arms which transformed into blaster mode on the right, and nasty energy axe on the left. “You further threaten my God-Children or Manny and Sonia’s well-being. I might just forget I’m a Southern Lady.” While plain and frank, there was a menace in her eyes mirroring Sally’s, and the hum of her weapons furthered showed she was not playing games.

A small ‘boom’ and a flash of blue from across the room, and the guard found Sonic the Hedgehog on the other side of him, arms crossed, and foot tapping rapidly. “Door, open, my kids and siblings safely in arms, now!’ He didn’t bother making threats, he didn’t need to.

The guard simply let out a pathetic sound, wet himself and passed out onto the floor.

Without a word, Sonic dug at their belt, found the key and quickly as he could unlocked the cell door, and threw it open. All anger, and intimidation left his face (as well as Sally and Bunnie who put away their weapons) as the look of a worried parent and brother overcame all else. “Are you four okay?! Did they hurt you any-?!” “DADDY, MOMMY!!” Instantly Kathleen, and J.C. dashed into the arms of their Father, with their Mother soon joining in the hug, checking them over.

“Oh my babies!” Sally clutched her family tightly, kissing the children all over their faces and tops of their heads, as she checked them for injuries. “It’s okay now, Daddy and Mommy are here, oh God I’m so sorry this happened, that we weren’t there to stop you from being taken.” She babbled, as the kept-in-check emotions burst from the dam she erected to focus on the rescue.

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry…” Sonic murmured, his heart still racing even with all his joy held firmly in his arms. Lifting his gaze, tear-stained he looked to his siblings worriedly. “How’re you two holding up? They didn’t hurt any of you did they?”

“Nah, they just… dragged us around at most.” Manic shrugged, but was clearly relieved this whole thing was over. As he stood he found his legs shaking, and leaned against his equally leg-shakey sister. “All that said, glad you guys found us so soon.” Moving closer, Bunnie shifted her arms, what was metal now, began to flash with energy and seemingly disassemble back to flesh and blood. The wonders of bio-nanite tech. Once her arms were organic again she pulled the two hedgehog siblings into a hug. “Sorry we didn’t get here sooner sugah, but we had to basically strong-arm some of the Spagonia government to give us the okay to act. Though once Sally n’ Sonic scared these bozos' supposed leaders into talkin’ they squealed like- well sumthin I can’t say within earshot of kiddos.”

Sonia let herself chuckle, relief and a sense of security flooding her being as she leaned into the hug. “So, lemme guess, the Trade Minister and his flunkies were the culprits?”

“Yeah, I mean we were gonna confront em’ with the evidence Nicole uncovered, but you all bein’ taken kinda forced our hands.” Bunnie further explained as she scratched the back of their ears soothingly. “U-Uncle Manny and Auntie Sonia, looked after us, we’re okay…” J.C. managed to speak once his throat wasn’t sore from crying (this time from happiness).

“Hmm-hmm, they’re the best as always!” Kathleen agreed, sniffling and wiping her eyes as she remained cocooned by her parents and brother.

Smiling, Sonic reached over and managed to give each of his younger siblings an affectionate arm-punch. “Somehow I knew they’d have it under control.” Well more hoped, but he didn’t want to devalue his sibling’s efforts. No if anything he wanted them to ride the pride of keeping themselves and the kids safe.

“Lucky for us, as Sonia called it, these guys were morons. Dangerous ones, but morons.” The green-furred hedgehog blew out a breath, and then he recalled something. “Um, ah, how’re Agent Fletcher and Hunigan?”

“Alive.” Sally replied, still nuzzling her children, still unwilling to let them go. Her own heartbeat was finally starting to calm down and the adrenaline high was crashing. “They were hurt badly, but both are tenacious and they got help just in time. They might have to retire from active duty early but we’ll be sure they’ll be looked after, their families too.”

“Oh thank goodness!” The two teens, and the younger children exclaimed, as joy at the news eased their hearts from the dread they felt prior.

Footsteps could be heard approaching, but the boot clomps’ were familiar. So no one tensed or got ready for another fight. Especially once Captain of the Royal Guard, Antoine D’Coolette emerged, wiping his sword blade clean with a cloth before sheathing it into its scabbard. “My Queen, ze fools have been disarmed, and rounded up. As you requested, we managed to take them all alive, if injured.” After a beat, he contemplated making a joke about some being ‘literally’ disarmed, but with the children there, he decided against it. “How are ze young ones?” He asked, decorum giving way to concerned God-Father, and as a fellow parent.

“Thankfully unhurt Sugah-Twan.” His wife replied, flashing a smile his way. “Where’s Tangle n’ Whisper?”

“Helping out Tails to ensure we didn’t miss anyone and secure the location.” Informed Antoine as he walked over, making sure all were fine, if to soothe his own fretful nature. They also will wish to zee’ that our rescuee’s are le’fine.”

Sniffing away the last of her tears, Kathleen looked up at her Mother. “Uncle Tails came too? I thought he was testing his new plane in the South Seas?”

“Once he heard the news, he jetted over as fast as he could and offered to help.” replied Sonic with a wide smirk of pride and relief for his ‘not-so-little’ bro. “Family sticks together, and well you guys are as much family as his own. Which by the way, I’m sure Tails will wanna set up a face-chat so Mina can see you’re all fine.”

“She is very fond of her biggest fans.” Chuckled Sally, who internally still found it ‘very’ weird, that Tails and Mina Mongoose hooked up. Their age gap wasn’t too bad, and clearly whatever happened to bring about their dating didn’t occur until Tais was eighteen/nineteen-ish. Then again he clearly had a thing for older women, at least his choices after Fiona Fox were an improved taste. As long as Mina was good to Tails, that was all she cared about, and they did seem like a good couple. Still weird but that was on her.

“Can we leave now?” J.C. asked softly looking up at both his parents hopefully.

“You got it son, we’ll juice n’ jam out of here and get you guys some food and tucked in for the night.”

“Can we have a sleepover in the hotel suite? Like all of us with blankets on the floor and pillows nests?” Asked Kathleen with big, hopefully eyes. A look her brother mirrored and nodded to her suggestion.

“Yeah, can we have a sleepover?!” Manic echoed, doing his best impersonation of the look.

“I don’t see why not, if everyone else is on board.” “Wouldn’t be hard for us all to fit in, big ol’ space, and like you could ask us to stay away after today.” Bunnie voiced her opinion with a warm smile at the children. Giving them assurance she was on board.

“Like the saying goes, the more the merrier.” Antoine stated to voice his blessing. “Plus I’m sure Bunnie and my own angels would love the idea as they too were worried about you four. As was your Nanny Miss Cream.” The coyote gently ruffled the hair of the two youngsters, his mind drifting to his children two years their senior. Yes, if they had been through this, he’d gladly acquiesce any whimsy they wanted within reason, and a sleepover to help soothe their nerves? A piece of cake.

Kathleen’s face fell as childish concern flooded her mind. “Oh no, that’s right, we were supposed to meet Jacque, Belle and Miss Cream after lunch…” “Hey they know we didn’t stand 'em’ up by choice.” Manic interjected as he flashed a smile and reached over to ruffle his niece’s cheek tufts.

“Let’s blow this pop stand, I want a hot bath, lots of bubbles and all the cheese cake…” Sonia muttered, feeling her own adrenaline rush and the weight of the whole ordeal finally sapping her energy.

“I hear that, let’s go home everyone.

[hlupdate]

“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing?

I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive.  So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold.

Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from?

Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take?

We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed.

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost.  Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always.  We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement.  We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.  

[lordmorninwood]

Rwby: Thicker than water au

Royal heirloom

Salem was angry. Cinder has just gone and disobeyed her after only just getting back into her good graces, and while she had the Relic of knowledge, Salem rather ironically, did not know how to activate it or if she was even able to use it.

Now, not only does she find that her relic is gone, but one of her subordinates have turned heel. They were particularly useful as well Emerald was, with her ability to manipulate people’s perceptions.

And she has caught Emerald escaping with Ozma along with a small party of huntsmen. She quickly takes Emerald by them neck and clutches her head close

“You really have been honing that semblance of yours”

Only to narrowly dodge gunfire and then facing the others. Taking a second to appraise them, she sees if any of the new visitors are worth her time.

She first sees a young women with a long flowing mane of blonde hair, with a metal arm and armed with some complex looking vambraces. Or maybe they are gauntlets, it’s hard to tell. Beyond that, she looks much like Raven Branwen colored differently.

She also sees a huntres- no a huntsman with a long black braid, and wielding what appears to be a pair of firearms with dual daggers attached to them. He has a stoic expression, and they almost look a bit gray. Not one for power, but likely finesse, like a rogue before the second rise of humanity. Not very important. Not like they will be breathing for much longer.

Then Salem turns to the last member of this little rescue party.

Well, he seems interesting. She can’t put her finger on it, but he seems, familiar almost. Perhaps it is the knight archetype he has going on. Possibly trained by Ozma? If so then she is going to save him for last, and make Ozma watch as she tears him apart.

Before analyzing any further, she fires he magic at the rogue, but the knight sidestepped in front of him and blocked it with his shield. She thought she saw a bit of gold on the shield, but that might just be residual light from her magic.

As the knight and the rogue are knocked back, the brawler leaps at her and lands a few rapid jabs at her chest, before dashing away. Before Salem can even turn towards the brawler, some small devices stuck to her torso combust and she is blow open, folded backwards in half.

Salem doesn’t even activate her aura. She has it unlocked, but why even activate it when every injury inflicted on her is simply undone in a matter of seconds unless she tries to suppress it. Physical pain is nothing to her, having felt fatal wounds over and over again, and the dark essence numbing what little she does feel.

Before Salem even finishes regenerating, she shoots out a black tendril from her left hand, and is now holding both Emerald and the Raven lookalike in each hand.

Then Ozma fires his own beam of magic at her. She flinches because while Ozma’s magic is not even a fraction of what it once was, his artifacts hurt more than most other things do. In retaliation, Salem throws the brawler at him, but fails to see the knight charging at her until the last second.

She lazy leans to her side to dodge. While wounds mean nothing to her she does know the disadvantage an opponent has while off balance. The knight still manages to cut her unoccupied arm off though, so as soon as she is behind the knight she uses her restraining glyphs to trip and hold him down, along with the rogue so they would not step in either. She aims her shoulder at the knight and-

Wait a second.

Her arm has not regrown yet?

How is this possible?

Even actively willing her arm to regrow she notice it regrowing at a snails pace. But that shouldn’t be possible. She looks to the knight and ponders how he managed to make a lasting wound. Only magic and weapons imbued with such could possibly do that, and not this much. The only weapon ever to wound her for this long was-

Salem’s eye narrow.

“Crocea mors.”

The knight lets out a gasp. It seems she was right about the blade, different as is may appear. She finally gets a good look at the white kite shield, with a crest in the center, of twin golden arcs.

Salem addresses the young knight, now seeing some resemblance. “That weapon belongs an old family, one who was supposed to stay out of this war. Possession of it either make you a thief,”

His eyes narrow in indignation and suspicion.

“Or an Arc. Would you explaining which you are so that I may return it to it’s rightful owners?”

“You stay the heck away from my family.” The Arc growls out.

“So an Arc then. How are Nicholas and Juniper? I have not heard from Ansel in quite some time.”

He looks at Salem in confusion, “how do you know my parents?”

“I forged that very blade you hold from my own blood, killing my self over and over until my remains had enough iron in them to make it. It was not capable of slaying me as I had hoped, but it was still a weapon worthy of a hero, one like Julius.”

“Great-great grandfather.” He muttered.

“Yes, after miraculously finding a distant descendant of one of my daughters about to go to war, I thought fit to improve their chances of survival. After giving him the gift of my own blood steel, and an enhancement to his aura, I watched over his family as he went to war. I used to visit the Arcs regularly, until... recent developments have made me advance my plans.”

She turned to Emerald again, pinning her to a wall with glyphs , “but enough of that. You will tell me where the relic is, or I will force it out of you.”

“I swear I don’t know.” Emerald began to cry. Hmm, perhaps. Perhaps not. Salem will have to check with her seers if they saw who took it.

Hazel then came walked in, but Salem didn’t pay him any mind. Even out numbered Hazel was a skilled combatant who only Tyrian with his aura bypassing semblance could defeat with anything remotely resembling ease. She continued to pressure Emerald, when suddenly Hazel of all people struck her sending her flying. He injected several dust crystals into himself and began to fight her off. His power was almost comparable to a maiden. He managed to get Salem in a hold and set them both on fire, as Ozma pointed his cane at her.

The last thing Salem saw was one of her descendants looking toward Ozma, and then a great flash of light.

[overdrivels]

The Way to a Heart (20)

<<Chapter 19

When Hanzo wakes, he almost punches himself in the face trying to rub the sand from his eyes, body refusing to cooperate with any amount of finesse. When he is able to focus, he recognizes the interior of one of the medical bay rooms at Gibraltar. The significance of it doesn’t sink in until he sees his bandaged hands where the phantom feeling of his punches still linger.

Disappointment and anguish overpowers the ache and grogginess—he slams his fists against legs—the pain that shoots through him and renders his vision spotty does little to deter him from doing it again.

Reaper left him alive even though he had all the ability in the world to just shoot himself and Genji dead. It was humiliating.

Only the good die young, and he is none of those things.

“You’re awake!”

Dr. Ziegler walks into the room with Genji right at her heels. She approaches, but Genji is faster, interrupting her path.

Genji’s usual mask is off, allowing Hanzo to see the entirety of his face. It is first shocked, then twists into something like rage; it’s strangely assuring. What truly strikes him is not the scars on his face, no, but that his thick eyebrows, so similar to his own but more pronounced, are still intact.

“Genj—”

He is barely able to react—he later blames the drugs being pumped into him at the time—and thanks his lifelong training for teaching him how to shut his mouth.

The punch to the face nearly knocks out his teeth and consciousness. He could've sworn he heard the good doctor curse loudly. Before he is able to recover and give him a piece of his addled mind, his cheeks are enveloped in cool synthetic leather, and Genji's forehead meets his own.

The contrast in temperature is oddly comforting.

"I thought I almost lost you, brother," Genji whispers. The ringing in his ears is not loud enough to drown out the pain in his brother's synthetic voice.

Any protest or words he has dies pathetically in his throat. There is a click of something in the back of his heart, a spark in the depths of his mind.

Instead, all he can do is grab his brother by the shoulders and say, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

---

After all the excitement dies down and everyone is ushered out of his room, he’s subject to a battery of tests (including another one for concussion because Genji really doesn’t know how to hold back) that pass by in a blur. Dr. Ziegler mercifully does not bog him down with the details of his injuries or what happened, simply inferring that Winston will update him when he is feeling more like a person and less of a ragdoll.

Left alone in the room, he finds the quiet to be peaceful instead of distressing. For the first time in a very long time, there is a reign of silence in his heart and a strange clarity to his muddled thoughts that he has never found before. He supposes almost dying would do that to a person, and perhaps that’s the reason why Genji is the way he is now.

Or maybe he really is concussed from Genji’s punch.

He watches sunlight filter in through the narrow windows, the way scarce bits of dust dance and twirl in the spotlight. Time passes by just like that with nary a thought.

Sunlight eventually gives way to twilight. Demons that would normally take advantage of the encroaching dark ready to stab him with past memories and sharpened ‘what if’s are not around. This quiet is peaceful, comfortingly so. Even the pain he should be feeling is dulled by anesthesia and the feeling of cotton stuffed beneath his skin.

It’s only when there’s a quiet knock on his door does he realize the whole day has passed him by. Was he awake the whole time or has he been drifting between sleep and consciousness?

When another knock comes, he realizes he hasn’t answered and the room is a shade darker than before.

“Come in.”

Surprise comes to him slowly and with less intensity than he expected.

"Chef. Why are you here?"

It's strange to see you on the other side of the bed now considering your roles were reversed not too long ago. But something about your appearance tugs at him—there’s a sense of weariness and exhaustion that seems to eclipse his own that he can’t place. He just knows.

You smile weakly, lifting the tray in your hands for him to see.

"I thought I'd bring you some food. Something easy on the stomach?"

Hunger isn’t very high on his list of needs or wants at the moment, but he waves you in with his non-IV-tethered hand anyway. He doesn’t have the heart to turn you or your good will away. The door closes quiet as a whisper as you tiptoe into the room, the lights coming on in slow intervals. Like an angel or a main character coming onto the stage, he thinks.

On the tray, there’s a cream colored ‘soup’ with chopped green spring onions on top and some bread on the side. It is a far cry from the meals he’s expected from you and reminds him of the earlier days when ingredients were clearly scarce and he didn’t know you were a person.

“This is…?”

“Artichoke soup.”

The side of his mouth twitches downward. Whatever little appetite he may have had dissipates. “Have you eaten yet, Chef?” he asks instead.

“Oh. Uh.” Your eyes shift away from him, a sure sign you’re lying. “I will. After this.”

He gives you the flattest look he can manage as he pushes the tray back toward you. He may not be in full control of his facilities, but even he can see that you’re tired and probably in more need of nutrition than he is.

“Yes. You will. Now.”

“This is for you, I can’t—”

“Sit.”

Even as you’re protesting, you still blindly grab at the chair beside you to sit down in. "I can't eat in front of my customers. We can’t eat until—"

He rolls his eyes and doesn't care how undignified that it is or that you see it. "And I am not your customer now, am I? Or is that all I am to you?"

"What, no! You're not, you're—you're not just a customer, you're…” You wave a hand vaguely at him, searching for the words, the anticipation makes his stomach tight. "Hanzo.”

“Hanzo.”

The label, if it could even be called that, amuses him more than he could ever say. Not a customer, not a friend, but Hanzo. As cliché as it sounds, there is a warm and fuzzy feeling that settles into his stomach.

"It’s not as though I haven’t seen you eat before.” As a matter of fact, he liked watching you eat. There was something charming about the way your eyes light up and the single mindedness in which you clear your plate. He has no plans to tell you that, however. “If it makes you uncomfortable, should I close my eyes?”

You grumble something beneath your breath about how this food isn’t yours and some other manner of complaints that just seem childish at this point. It’s with great reluctance that you pick up the spoon and bowl meant for him. But there is something different. Your eyes don’t light up, and you just put spoonful after spoonful in your mouth in quick succession without pausing to savor.

“You don’t like your own cooking?” is the unbelievable conclusion he comes to.

“Not really,” you mumble.

“So you’ve been feeding us mediocre work?”

“No!” It almost startles him how vehemently you protest, and maybe it startles you, too because you immediately back down. “No, I just—look. Sometimes,” you start slowly, eyes searching for the words across the half-finished soup, “sometimes you just get tired of your own flavor. Of your own cooking.”

He wouldn’t know anything about that. Of course there are times he’s tired of eating just onigiri while on the run, but that’s just one dish. There’s also something else underneath your words, too. Uncertainty and doubt.

Irritation bubbles up in his chest, and before he can even stop himself, he snatches the spoon out of your hand with a brief, “Excuse me,” before shoveling the soup into his mouth.

The richness of the artichokes is immediately apparent, mild and full-bodied, made thicker with added texture from potatoes. Yet, despite that, the soup isn’t particularly heavy, its richness cut by the zest of lemon which is tempered by the other ingredients. It’s easy to eat and despite his lack of appetite, he thinks he can eat more.

It would sound stupid to anyone he tells it to, but the soup feels like...a hug.

When he raises his eyes, your mouth is agape.

“I could never get tired of your cooking,” he says. The ease at which the words come to him must be from the anesthesia or maybe he just doesn’t care anymore. Of all the things that would make you flush. He smiles wide and slow, delighted at your reaction.

This is fun. Enjoyable. It makes him want to tease you more.

“Tha-thanks?”

“No, I should be thanking you.”

For so many things. For introducing him to new foods. For sacrificing so much for Overwatch. For...

The memory of Reaper with the tamale tugs at the back of his mind. He could wave it away, but that he lives because of you and he doesn’t say anything about it would burden him. Being saved by a civilian who wasn’t even there from a foe far stronger than he wounds him, but not showing appreciation for it would wound him further.

He puts down the spoon, and quietly confesses, “Chef. Thank you. Your cooking has…saved me.”

“Oh.” Surprise freezes your expression in place but it quickly melts into a warm smile, one that made you seem to sparkle and come to life. “You’re welcome.”

There’s no way for you to know just how much he meant those words, but he can’t bring himself to elaborate. It’ll be the closest he’ll be able to admit to himself that it was not his own strength that saved him at the end of the day.

---

Apparently Reaper is less violent than his actions and rumors would have everyone believe. Dr. Ziegler prescribes him less bedrest than expected and the green light to leave and return to his routine (barring actual missions) in a few days. Most of his injuries were superficial, and none of the shotgun blasts seem to have damaged anything too permanent beyond repair.

It’s Soldier: 76 who seems most put off by this news, grumbling about how Reaper is an unfair bastard. Winston is ever apologetic, still feeling responsible that they were led right into an ambush after hearing Hanzo’s report. According to Dr. Ziegler, the team was lucky Reaper was carrying normal shotgun clips.

Yes. Lucky.

It’s just been a series of lucky circumstances, hasn’t it? That they were all able to leave with their lives and tell the tale is beyond what most could have hoped for, and Winston apparently did not want to look that gift horse in the mouth.

"We will be leaving the moment we are finished with repairs to this Watchpoint. We never know when we'll have to return. I just wanted to prepare you for that eventuality.” Winston is distractingly huge in this little room as he shuffles on his feet, trying not to knock into any sensitive equipment.

“I understand.”

“That being said, Dr. Ziegler would like you to remain here until you are flight-ready. You will be a part of the last group to leave.”

“Has my new post been decided?”

“You will be informed when you make a full recovery and are back in service. In the meantime, we are trying to keep the number of people who know our next destination to a minimum. Security reasons; I hope you understand.”

The decision comes as no surprise to him.

It isn’t ideal to house Overwatch in a single place where the very country they’re stationed in is pitted against them. It’s even less ideal to have all their forces in one place at this time where the line of Overwatch succession has not been properly established. So far, it’s been a struggle between Winston, the de facto but still inexperienced leader, and Soldier: 76 who was the Strike Commander but claims he has no desire to hold such a title anymore while still meddling in Winston’s decisions. Old habits die hard, he supposes.

However, if the whole of Overwatch is leaving, then where does that leave you?

It’s unreasonable to drag you along, and it's too dangerous to remain here in Gibraltar by yourself, waiting for agents that may never return. Your restaurant has booted you out and by

Maybe you’ll go back to your restaurant and reclaim it for yourself.

Maybe he could be selfish and ask you to remain.

It’s silly, but he’s already gotten used to your meals, spoiled by the attention.

He presses his lips together, refusing to sigh no matter how much he wanted to. The future is yours to take hold of. Whether you decide to take the difficult path of following them or whether you decide to leave and do something else is entirely out of his hands.

As much as he wants to know, he can't bring himself, unwilling to hear the answer. He’ll have to wait for you to tell him—if you ever tell him.

Some more logistics are discussed, but Winston keeps the conversation superficial. Apparently the Junkers are obstinately refusing to leave and he’s had his hands full even without their opposition.

Hanzo has already tuned him out, thoughts wandering to you and what you plan to do.

Surprisingly, McCree visits him soon after. He’s also wearing the standard hospital gown, but doesn’t seem to be as well-wrapped as Hanzo. It somehow annoys Hanzo that the person who nearly led himself and Genji to their dooms is in better shape than he is.

“I saw how it went down,” McCree starts as soon as he sits down with a heavy grunt. “The tamale. You tell Winston?”

“Who was he?”

“I asked first.”

There’s a silent stare-down between them.

A short bark of a laugh tears out of McCree, loud and sudden. He leans back in his chair before changing his mind to lean forward, the hair hanging in front of his face does nothing to obscure the pointed look in his eyes.

“Gabriel Reyes.”

The name takes a moment to sink in, for the veil to lift and the name to become a face.

Hanzo sucks in a breath.

“I suppose Overwatch has some secret to immortality that they plan to impart to us when we reach tenure?” It comes out more critical than he has any right to be, but McCree would have to excuse him—he did almost die, after all, along with Genji and the remainder of his pride.

“If it’s tenure, I’d better be first.” Even McCree seems bitter about it. He supposed it was just as well, McCree was much closer to them and personally knew all three. It must have been a much bigger betrayal to him than it was to Hanzo who only knew of the three from news reports and word of mouth.

He heard bits and pieces of how Genji was a part of Blackwatch and Gabriel, in a sense, saved him from himself.

“...did Genij know?”

McCree pauses, face scrunching up and chewing his lips like he wished for a smoke. “...yeah. I told ‘im so he wouldn’t have to break my kneecaps.”

That’s probably why they didn’t stick to the plan. Genji knew, too. How is he taking the news, Hanzo wonders.

“And you? You tell Winston or what?”

“...yes.” It wasn’t a detail that he could have left out; it was the reason they’re alive and it’s such a stupid reason, too. He thought Winston would react in disbelief, but to his surprise—which now seems so obvious—the gorilla just sighed and moved on.

McCree lets out a breath, slumping into his chair. “Cat's outta that bag, I guess. Gonna have to get him to keep his mouth shut 'bout that 'round Chef. And you'd better do, too "

“And what reason do I have to do that?"

"'m serious. If Chef knew about Reaper, who knows what might happen."

McCree sounds tired. It wasn't his intent to speak to you about that anyway, but now McCree's piqued his curiosity.

“Elaborate.”

"....Reyes was considered one of them. When he wasn’t doing shit like sewing up costumes or drilling us, he was in the kitchens. They were family to each other.” Hanzo breathes in deep through his nose and presses his lips together. "Talon's already done Chef dirty enough and things aren't gonna get much easier either, so we should cut the chef some slack where we can spare, y'hear?"

It doesn’t take him long to answer.

"I hear you."

---

“Please let us know your decision by the end of this week, Chef. I know it won’t be easy, but I can assure you, we will support you regardless of your choice.”

Packing up the kitchen for departure was one thing, but asking you what you wanted to do with your life is another. It’d just be so much easier if Winston told you “Come with us” or “Stay here”. If it were the Head Chef, he’d probably insist on staying because this, for many agents, is home, though he would be just as likely to say anywhere his customers go, he goes.

—”What do you want to do?”—

Hanzo’s question bounces incessantly in your head, burrowing under your skin until they begin to eat at the core of your being.

Again, you’re struck with the ever-persistent reminder that you are not Head Chef Richard. You’re not an expert at managing restaurants. You’re not a world-class chef. You have no idea what you’re doing or what you should do next.

The kitchen is deafeningly quiet and devoid of answers except for your scrubbing, but even that is just out of habit; your mind is elsewhere.

Why couldn’t everything just be the way they were before?

You know what you want to do. You want to return to the past, to the days when the kitchen was the kitchen and when you didn’t have to be responsible for so many things or have to worry about the ever-growing uncertainty that couldn’t even be called a ‘future’. You want to go back to simpler times, to happier times when you weren’t alone and you weren’t given a responsibility that you weren’t prepared to handle long term.

But if you went back to the past, you wouldn’t be able to talk to the agents like you have been. Everyone was nice to you and they didn’t demand things or pick fights like the agents of the past. You were even able to have fun with them unlike before when your only friends were the rest of the kitchen staff.

You wouldn’t be able to go on shopping trips like you did with Hanzo. It was nice. It was the closest thing to normal you’ve felt in a long time. No expectations, no pressures, just freedom. How long has it been since you didn’t have to care about anything except for what was in front of you? How long has it been since you were able to just enjoy yourself? You had fun for once and with an agent, no less.

But what cost did that come at?

Overwatch would now be mobile, traveling all over the world, fighting bad guys and setting things right. There isn’t much that you could do as a cook especially with everyone scattered. You’d just be another body to protect or another factor for them to account for.

On the other hand, this kitchen only has you. From all of its intricacies to its idiosyncrasies, you were the only one here who knew them. Or rather, you only had the kitchen. The plan was always to keep this place afloat until the Head Chef came back. Once he was found and came back, then everything would go back to the way it used to be.

If he came back. What if he didn’t want to come back? Then all you would have done would have been for nothing. Hell, leaving now when he hasn’t returned may as well have been for nothing. If your work was going to be for nothing, then you would’ve never left Cœur d’Artichaut and then at least maybe you’d have a place to belong.

— “I could never get tired of your cooking.”—

—“A chef’s purpose iz to serve their customers. Without them, we are nothing.”—

You groan. You don’t know what to do.

Giving yourself a moment to mourn what should have been and what could have been, you throw your cleaning rag into the sanitization bucket and dump yourself onto the floor. From your pocket, you pull out your communicator, clasping it tight between both hands as though an answer would appear. It doesn’t, and you’re not sure if the many names you have recorded might have an answer either.

The kitchen doesn’t have room for crying or for the weary or the weak—all those should go to the break room. Everyone will have to forgive you if you don’t know what to do and don’t want to move.

A hiss from the direction of the Cellar makes you and your heart rate jump. Out of sheer habit, you grab and brandish the closest thing to you: a spatula.

It takes an embarrassingly long time for you to realize who is standing there, and you could only laugh. The drain of adrenaline immediately leaves you weak and cold, and you have to step back and lean both hands back against a counter. The area where you were shot throbs, and all at once, exhaustion tumbles relentlessly into you as though you were an empty vessel to be filled.

“Sorry about that, Agent Roadhog.”

“Mm.”

Roadhog ducks his head, stepping in sideways through the Cellar entryway. The door to the Cellar was originally designed to allow the kitchen carts to fit through with ease, but Agent Roadhog’s sheer girth makes that design choice seem inadequate.

You hurriedly wipe your face with your sleeves, and clear your throat, shoving your communicator back into your pockets.

“What can I do for you? Lemon lime bitters or lemon barley water? It’ll take a little bit since we don’t have anything premixed—”

Roadhog shoves a basket at you, cutting your speech short. Unwittingly, you take it from his hands. It’s a medley of vegetables and herbs.

“Oh, did you want me to make something with this?” you ask, sifting through the bounty. Spinach; radishes that look like they’re heirloom; arugula; kale; scallions; peppers. “They’re really good quality, I haven’t seen these in the market before…”

Your words fade from your mouth as a slow, creeping realization strangles them clean out of your mind. All of these look too familiar in terms of breed. Digging deeper into the basket, you happen upon a batch of mint. The leaf shape, the deep green color are all reminiscent of a different time. You pick a leaf off and put it in your mouth, chewing it slowly. The leaves are an even balance of crisp and soft. It is minty, of course, but there are no harsh or bitter notes that one would expect to find after chewing on peppermint. Instead, it’s sweet and soothing with a hint of fruit. It’s a nostalgic flavor, one you haven’t thought of in years.

“Where’d you get this…?” you ask slowly, trying to see past the mask he wears. There’s no way—

Agent Roadhog grunts and turns, leading you back into the tunnel from which he came. Clutching the basket, disbelief and anticipation running through your veins, you follow.

—-

Walking is a little more difficult than he remembers. There's a persistent pain in his legs from his injuries, but as long as he's not bleeding through his pants, he’s not too concerned. One of the first pit stops he makes is the cafeteria, and to his surprise, there’s already people.

Ana waves at him, gesturing at the seat between herself and Brigitte who nods at him as she tries to choke down whatever she’s stuffed into her cheeks.

“Have a seat, Shimada. Party’s starting without you.”

It seems that while he wasn’t looking, afternoon tea had resumed. In addition to the usual butter cookies, there’s a wider assortment of sweets as though someone were trying their hand at opening a store or someone robbed a bakery.

“...Chef made all this?”

“Sure did. Help yourself. Chef—mmph—makes awesome desserts,” Brigitte says between mouthfuls. She pauses her chewing to clench her fists, a full body shiver on display. “Mm! This is good, too.”

“Of course,” he replies automatically with a swell of pride.

How she managed to convince you to make so many is beyond him. Unconsciously, he looks toward the service window where the lights are on and there is movement inside. You’re definitely working too much. While he can admire a dedicated person, even he knows there are limits to how far one can push themselves before they break.

“What are you waiting for? Have a seat.” Hanzo hurriedly sits down, his lips thinning as he catches sight of Ana’s knowing smile. He ignores her, focusing instead on the selection of goods available.

It’s hard to even know where to start.

The usual butter cookies are a given and Ana seems to be happy monopolizing them. There are trays of flaky twists, sliced roll cakes of different flavors, white round balls of something covered with coconut shavings topped with a single red dot, white rectangles with a texture between sponge cake and mochi.

He goes for a tart-like pastry with yellow custard in the middle that he recognizes as egg tarts first.

The crimped pastry is perfectly flaky, the outer layers crisp and the inner layers toward the tart are moist and soft. The custard is still the slightest bit warm and jiggly, smooth, and tasting of lightly sweetened eggs. It’s almost reminiscent of Japanese pudding except it’s warm instead of cold.

Beside him, Brigitte leans in. “How’s it? Good? I haven’t tried that one yet.”

“It’s good,” he replies as he licks his lips. It’s different from what you’d normally make, but it’s delicious nevertheless. He pours himself a cup of tea

The tea is dark and astringent, almost unpleasantly so alone but pairs well with remnants of his snack with a cleansing aftertaste that reminds him of fruit. It’s not a tea he’s had before and is certainly not one he remembers Ana ever ordering.

He spots his favorite: pan-fried red bean cake and wastes no time snatching three for himself. If anyone accuses him of being greedy, he can just say he needs more sustenance for healing.

Pockets of time carved out like this makes it easy to forget everything that has happened, but given the nature of Overwatch, conversation eventually steers face first into business.

“When we arrived, we thought the worst,” Ana says rather lightly. “Both you and your brother were on the ground and McCree was missing.”

Hanzo grunts. Reaper just left them there after ordering the retreat without any answers as to why and how they were there in the first place.

“Do we know where the leak happened?”

Ana shrugs. “We have a few ideas and Fareeha is busy investigating right now. She’s missing out.”

Hanzo takes one of the white balls of coconut covered mochi, almost choking on an explosion of finely chopped peanuts and sugar that was hiding beneath the surprisingly thin exterior.

“We can ask Chef to save some for her,” Brigitte suggests, oblivious or ignoring Hanzo’s silent struggle. “I’m sure we have enough for that.”

When Hanzo regains control of his windpipe again, he asks, “Do we know anything about their motive? Other than the hostages.”

“We suspect the hostages were just an excuse as you may have guessed. All the shots—except the ones from Reaper—were non-lethal rounds, so they must have wanted to talk.”

“Any suspicions as to why?”

Ana scoffs. “Who knows what that fool is thinking.” She takes a ginger sip of her tea before glaring at the reflection. “He's always had a flair for dramatics, that one. Brilliant in ways I wished he wasn't."

“...you know Reaper?”

“I know him better than I’d like.” She sips her tea and lets out a heavy sigh. “Well, it’s a good thing there were no casualties.” He gives her a look, trying to convey that his current state of being is a casualty. The look is wasted on her because she just reaches for another cookie, skillfully ignoring his gaze.

“Especially with you, Shimada. It would have been bad if Talon could spin the story that Overwatch came back and used lethal force against people equipped with ‘non-lethal’ weapons.” Again, he tries to give her a look and again it’s rebuffed. “I think you’ve been changing. You’re an assassin by trade, yes?”

“Yes,” he answers hesitantly. “Family trade.”

“And killing your enemies is your default.”

“...yes.”

“But no one died on the mission.”

“Not that I was informed, no.”

“You held back. Sure, you hurt them enough to make them wish they died, but you didn’t exactly slaughter them outright, now did you?”

“I…” He doesn’t really remember. As soon as each enemy was felled, he stopped caring. But he remembers having put his hands on people, thrown them to the ground, hit their vitals with his fists, but he can’t recall having to confirm any kills—there was no need.

“It changes nothing. Killing wasn’t a requirement in that mission.”

“But we never said not to. You made the choice for yourself.”

“It was implied. Overwatch is not that sort of organization.”

“And you’re fitting in just perfectly,” Ana says cheerfully. “You have changed, Shimada. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

There’s nothing he can say to that, and he drinks another cup of tea.

He has changed, he knows this, but whether it’s for the better or not is something only the future would know.

The snacks dwindle as more people slowly join the group. D.Va and Winston join them at some point while Brigitte leaves with a whole handful (and mouthful) of pastries. Even Soldier makes an appearance, only to leave after suffering ridicule from the combined forces of Ana and D.Va.

It’s not until late in the afternoon that he finds his opening to get up and leave, but not before stopping by the service window.

For old time’s sake, he rings the bell.

Almost just as quickly, your torso appears at the service window.

“Hello Hanzo. What would you like to order today?”

A warm, molten feeling fills his stomach and rises into his cheeks, forcing a smile out of him. It’s innocuous, but it’s the first time you’ve called his name without a prefix while working. Hanzo has seen some of the world’s splendors in his youth but none of them has made him feel anything like this.

Despite not being able to see your face, you seem more spirited than before, practically rocking on your feet.

“I came to compliment the chef on the buffet. It was delectable.”

“Actually, I only made the cookies and red bean cakes. Patisserie Woo sent everything else through same day delivery.”

“They were all delicious.”

“I’ll let her know.” He doesn’t have to see behind the partition to know you’re pleased. “We should also be getting some meals from a few others.” He can’t imagine these are being sent the conventional way; part of the reason why you had to use the restaurant as a cover was because regular shipments couldn’t be sent here lest the Gibraltar police knows Overwatch is back again.

“Does this mean you’re now in contact with your colleagues?”

You take a moment before answering, hands float between the partition hesitantly and then rest on top of the other. “...yes.”

Inexplicably, his stomach drops at the soft tone of your voice, concern filling the void.

“Did it go well?”

“Yeah, it did.” You laugh sheepishly and the sound instantly makes his worries disappear. Your hands gesture at the group and the treat covered table. “As you can see. Everyone suddenly called and was mad that I was doing these things without telling them, but we’re getting somewhere.”

“I can’t imagine that Soldier approves of it.”

“He doesn’t have a choice.”

“You’ve gotten cheekier.” Realizing you may not take that the right way, he hurriedly adds, “It’s a good thing.”

“Well, this cheeky person got permission to hold a final farewell dinner.” You hold your fists at your waist, probably puffing out your chest. “Do you have any requests?”

“I thought you didn’t take requests.”

“Well…we’re leaving Watchpoint: Gibraltar and I thought ‘enough rules have been broken, what’s another one’?”

He entertains the idea of asking you for the treasure of the Cellar if only to confirm his suspicions, but that wouldn’t be fair. He then remembers something he saw not too long ago and comes to his decision.

“Miso soup.”

“That’s it?”

“Should I ask for a ten-course meal?”

“Please, no.”

He couldn’t help the sly smile that forms on his face or the burst of mischief. “What if I insist?”

��No.”

“If I say ‘please’?”

“Keep this up and I won’t make anything for you.”

“Three course meal.”

“One.”

“One course and a snack.”

“One item and a snack.”

“Done.” He holds out his hand for you to shake on it which you do with a laugh. Just as he grips your hand however, he adds in just as quickly, “Snack is one whole cake.”

“Are you kidding me—!?”

“We shook on it, Chef.”

“You’re bad.” And then in a more teasing tone, “Are you sure you’re a hero? You should be a villain."

“Why does everyone think I'm a villain? Is it the goatee?” He pauses, stroking his facial hair despite the fact you likely can’t see him. “It's the goatee, isn't it?”

It draws a burst of laughter out of you.

“I like the goatee, you look distinguished.”

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased with this development or your compliments, allowing himself to savor your words a little more, rubbing his goatee between his fingers.

Grinning to himself, he leans in as close as he can to the wall. “Is that all you like, Chef?”

To his delight, you begin to splutter, clearly at loss as to how to answer. He presses himself closer to the partition, ducking his head slightly so he might catch your answer.

Hanzo whirls around suddenly, a thorny presence behind him. Just as he does, a movement catches his eye and his hands rush in before he can even think.

He barely catches the falling teapot by the handle. It’s thankfully empty and he holds onto it with both hands, looking back at Ana who stands a little too close with a funny smile.

“Go on, I can wait.”

---

Dr. Ziegler finally gave him permission to help out with packing up the Watchpoint, warning him not to lift heavy objects.

“No climbing. No jumping around. No backflips or frontflips. Nothing faster than a light jog. And you are not to lift or carry anything over 15kg,” she stresses with a pen in his face. “I know how your wounds look, but you are far from fully healed. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

She has to belabor the point a few more times, and he suspects it isn’t really him she’s talking to. When he finally gets free, Winston directs him to you, citing that while the kitchen is mostly packed up, there are other things that require attention.

You tell him as much with a secretive but exasperated smile on your face. The kitchen itself seems more barren than before, its shelves and hangers mostly empty, highlighting the hastily put-together repairs that were attempted after Talon’s attack. It’s a little sad, if he were to be honest.

You lead him into the Cellar, explaining that the past few days were spent clearing out storage spaces and the like. There’s one final thing you wanted help with, and you lead him straight through the winding tunnels and to the imposing wall of the vault.

Standing in front of it now, a door separating him between what is likely the Cellar’s treasure, he finds that he is not as excited about this as he thought he’d be. It isn’t exactly how he had envisioned getting inside, either, but he supposes with so little time left here, he cannot complain.

You knock on the door, now welded on one side like a proper door, but the singe marks make it perfectly clear that it was anything but.

“Password?”

“Golden faerie bread.”

'Faerie bread?'

He didn't have time to ask as the door creaks open. The light that comes out of the room forces him to hide his eyes behind his hand. Even before he’s able to see, the smell of fresh dirt and humid air gushes out, briefly choking his senses. Slowly, he lowers his hand, taking his first steps inside.

The room is slightly humid and pleasantly warm in a way that reminds him of late spring in Hanamura. The room is cavernous and its walls are all dyed in white; it looks like a miniature version of the cafeteria. Instead of tables, lines and lines of shelves stack on top of each other, reaching up toward the ceiling where dozens of lights hang. Meters with shaking needles and crudely put together charts hang between curtains of tubing. These shelves look like they’ve seen better days, some parts frankensteined together with mismatched pipes and tape.

Within each of these shelves, lush leaves of different shapes and sizes spill out in neat rows.

It’s a garden.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome! Happy to have you here! You can look, but touching’s gonna cost ya—hurKK!” Junkrat is immediately grabbed by Roadhog who gives you the briefest of nods and him the hardest of stares before lumbering off toward the far end of the room.

Awkward moment aside, you waste no time launching into a spiel and introducing him to the space. “Welcome to the Cellar Garden. When I first got back, all the plants were already dead and lots of the infrastructure was rusted or broken, and I didn’t have the time to fix it. But Agent Junkrat and Agent Roadhog fixed it up and converted this from an N.F.T. system to a Drip Recovery system so that there’s less maintenance needed when we're not here, but it does take up more space so we can't grow the bigger vegetables—”

The words blend together and become incoherent. Instead, this world of whistles and greens narrow until only you remain. You’re like a child in a candy store, similar to when you both went out shopping, pointing out everything with excitement and wonder and without any of the worries or cares that always held you down.

Freedom and happiness is a good look for you.

And it’s at this moment he is able to confirm something he had thought ever since you first brought him into the Cellar.

“—so these are ready for harvesting. Agent Roadhog and Agent Junkrat will dismantle that section for parts so don’t worry about picking anything from there.”

He watches you roll up your sleeves, weaving between wall after wall of greenery with a spring in your step. Wryly, he smiles to himself as he remembers McCree’s hints.

The treasure is meant to sustain Overwatch and without it, the organization cannot survive. One would indeed think it’s alcohol, enough alcohol to numb the nagging voices and doubts of every agent as they carry out their increasingly morally dubious activities while the world burns around them.

Seeing the walls and walls of vegetation around him, this could also be the correct answer. Even your own hints, that the treasure won’t be of interest to anyone but the chefs, point to this garden.

Perhaps you aren’t aware of it yourself, but this hidden garden is likely a red herring.

No one ever said that the treasure was in this vault-like room. The clues simply said the treasure was in the Cellar. Beyond the Cellar door not only laid the garden, but the office, storage rooms, and break rooms.

More importantly, he caught a glimpse of the first room you entered when you both went on your escapade: a spartan, but well-used dorm room. He could easily imagine a dozen or so people in there, resting after a long shift or sitting in their bunks, playing cards and laughing and joking around, waiting to get caught staying up late like a bunch of school children, but also ready to throw on their uniforms if hungry customers demand for it.

A romanticist like your Head Chef could only have been thinking one thing, and perhaps he was one too for thinking it.

The real treasure is none other than the chefs (and you).

Chapter 21>>

[valentines-in-london]

I Need Fire (Part 7)

Authors Note:  Thank you everyone for your lovely feedback on last chapter!  The boys are about to go on tour, how will our two lovebirds deal with being apart?  As always I love any and all feedback you have, send me an ask, message or reply.  Love you all!! Word Count: 3,581 Taglist:  @freddiessmallnipples @triplehaitches @samanthadegaro Warnings: angst followed by fluff

Previous Chapter Master List

Chapter 7

Tommy stood in the dingy dressing room of the Whisky, the band was getting ready to play their last hometown show before they hopped in a bus and traveled through Canada.  Nikki was in the mirror doing his makeup for stage, Nikki and Vince always took the longest.  Tommy reached over Nikki’s shoulder and grabbed a lipstick bullet that Rayne gave him.  Taking the cap off of the product Tommy rolled the lipstick up and down repeatedly.

“Jesus fucking Christ Tommy you look like someone just killed your dog.”  Nikki rolled his eyes getting up out of the chair in front of the mirror.  

“Thanks dude.  I feel worse than that.”  Tommy said taking his spot in the chair, rolling the lipstick up and applying it to his lips.

“It’s been a month drummer.”  Mick said from the couch tuning his guitar.

“I know Mick!  And I feel just as bad as the day she stopped talking to me.  We didn’t even break up, I think we’re still together.”  Tommy shrugged his shoulders.

“Tommy hasn’t gotten his dick wet in a month.  You know he’s serious about this chick.”  Vince came into the room stretching out his white leather pants.

“What is it with these two chicks you’re both fucking?  Do they have golden pussies?  Does their cum taste like Jack Daniels?”  Nikki questioned taking a swig of Jack Daniels.

“Oh you have no idea.”  Vince smiled before correcting, “Well I can only speak for Jo.”

“I’ve tried calling her, she ignores my calls.  I’ve tried going to her apartment, Jo tells me to leave.  I mean fuck she won’t even hear me out!  I’m not doing that stupid fucking photo shoot.  I’m a fucking idiot.”  Tommy shook his head ignoring the way the conversation was going.

“No you’re just a kool aid drinker.”  Mick commented.

“Thanks Mick, that’s very comforting.”  Tommy shook his head before he kicked the wall.  “Fuck.”

“Dude maybe it’s not meant to be.  You are in a band and chicks are gonna be all over you no matter what.  If she can’t hang maybe it’s best it happened this way now.”  Nikki spoke as he cut a line of coke and quickly snorted it, handing the plate to Tommy.

“She can hang dude, that’s the thing.  I fucked up.”  Tommy sighed, snorting up a line of his own.  “You guys just don’t know her like I do.”

“I mean I am at her apartment almost every night.  I know her a little bit.” Vince spoke up.  “She doesn’t come out of her room often though.  One night she did make a really nice dinner that we all ate.  Jo did say that Rayne feels bad, and that she is a shit communicator.  And something about Bruce Springsteen music.”

“Does she ever say anything about me?”  Tommy’s voice was drenched in hopefulness.  Vince looked down at his friend and shook his head no.  Tommy kept the plate and cut out another line, snorting it faster than the first.  “Well if I don’t see her by tomorrow I’m going to just assume it’s a sign from the universe or something.  And I’ll go on tour and wallow in my misery.”

“Fuckin teenagers.”  Mick whispered under his breath, even though Tommy was twenty one.

“Get yourself together Tommy, it’s almost show time.” Nikki clapped his best friend on the shoulder.

“I’m together dude.  I’ll be fine.”  Tommy assured the band twirling a drumstick between his fingers.

The band was like a drunken well oiled machine when they took the stage that night.  They plowed through the set list with a combination of finesse and anarchy. When they played the last chord of Live Wire Tommy stood up behind the kit raising his hand over his head throwing both his drum sticks into the eager audience.  The band walked off stage towards the dressing room to towel off.

“Who’s ready to take on Canada boys!”  Vince shouted raising a bottle of beer saluting his band.  The three others cheered and clanked their glasses against each others.  Tommy walked over to the couch and sat down taking a towel through his hair and down his face.

The door to the dressing room opened and Tom walked through, wearing his signature striped shirt with a shorter pudgy guy Tommy didn’t recognize. “Great show tonight guys as usual!  I wanted to introduce you to Doc, he’s going to be looking after you guys day to day on the road.”

“Woah, don’t we get some sort of say in that?”  Nikki questioned crossing his arms.

“Look, you boys are going to need a manager to wade through the shit in the music industry.  And I make all my bands a shit ton of money.  I’ll make sure you’re taken care of on the road, every possible need you have will be covered.”  Doc spoke confidently. Tommy had recognized the name from various liner notes.

“Well as long as you know what you’re getting into.  We have a lot of needs.”  Vince smiled wide.

“I don’t doubt it.”  Doc nodded.  “Look the bus will pick you all up tomorrow at noon.  Have your bags packed and be ready to leave on time.  First rule of the road: the bus waits for no one. You’re on time or we’re leaving your ass.”

All the boys nodded their heads, except Mick who simply stood there arms crossed.  Doc clapped his hands, “Great I’ll see everyone tomorrow.”  With those last words he left the room, leaving the door open as he left.

“The bus waits for no one.”  Nikki mocked causing Vince and Mick to laugh.

“I don’t think he’s lying dudes.”  Tommy looked between all of them taking a drink of whisky.

All the guys looked up when they heard another knock at the door. Standing in the doorframe was Jo and a sheepish looking Rayne.  Tommy immediately stood up from the couch.  Jo spoke first, “Just wanted to congratulate you guys on a great show.”

“Thanks babe.”  Vince walked up to the two effortlessly picking up Jo who wrapped her legs around Vince and let out a happy squeal.  Vince turned to his bandmates, “Well I know where I’m spending my last night before tour.  See you guys tomorrow.”

“Later Vinny.”  Tommy spoke, his eyes still locked on Rayne.

“We’ll give you guys some time, c’mon Nikki.”  Mick stood up grabbing Nikki’s jacket lapel dragging him out of the dressing room, closing the door behind them.

“I’m sor-“  “I’m sorry.”  The two spoke at the same time before Tommy shook his head.  “No let me go first.”  Rayne nodded and Tommy took a chance reaching to grab her hand.

“I told the band I wasn’t gonna do it.”  Tommy took a step closer to Rayne.  Now that she was here it was like she was the other side to a magnet inside his heart.  “I know you told me not to, but fuck that. I’ll admit I didn’t really think about it and how it could have negatively impacted you.  I just wanted to be a team player for the band. I told you Mick said I would drink the kool aid in Jonestown.  This was a wakeup call that my decisions don’t just affect me now, but they also affect you.”  Tommy spoke sincerely.

“Tommy I’m sorry.  I think I completely overreacted to everything.  Jo yelled at me tonight before we came here.  She couldn’t believe all of this was over a set up photo.”  Rayne shook her head looking down at her feet.  Tommy hooked his pointer finger under her chin, raising her head.

“You didn’t overreact.  Well, maybe by not talking to me for almost a month.  That was a little over the top.”  Tommy slightly pouted his lips tilting his head to the side.

“Well I guess we both learned something from this huh?” Rayne chuckled.  “I’m sorry I shut down and shut you out. That’s how I’ve always dealt with issues: silence.  I promise I’ll work on it.”

“And I’ll work on not being a pushover.”  Tommy said softly taking a step closer to Rayne before he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.  When he felt Rayne soften in his arms and hug him back Tommy spoke again, “I thought I lost you forever.”

“I’m here.”  Rayne whispered rubbing her hands up and down his back.  It felt so good to be back in Tommy’s arms, she felt like she was home.  The past few weeks without him were hell, but she was too stubborn to reach out.  “Jo told me you guys leave tomorrow.  When?”

“We just found out we’re getting picked up at noon.”  Tommy replied softly.  “I want to spend every waking second with you.”

“I’d like that.”  Rayne smiled up at Tommy.

“Let’s go home.”  Tommy smiled down at Rayne, reaching down to link his hands with hers.

“Home huh?”  Rayne questioned as the two began to walk out of the club.

“Yep, it only feels that way when you’re there.”  Tommy spoke.  She missed that silver tongue.

Soon after the two found themselves back at Tommy’s condo sharing a pizza they picked up from The Rainbow.  “A lot has happened with the band recently.”

“Oh yeah?  Tell me everything.”  Rayne smiled taking a bite out of her slice.

Over the past few weeks the band shot a video for the song Live Wire. Tommy explained that it was a pretty simple performance video but Nikki did light himself on fire for it. The video took two days to shoot. They also had been writing songs for the next album already.  Apparently they had a bunch of lyrics already and it was just about getting the music and melodies down.  Tommy was excited to tell Rayne about some new stage outfits they had planned out, it was full blown BDSM and sounded really sexy.  But to Rayne anything involving leather, spikes and studs was sexy.

The two finished the pizza, well Tommy ate most of it Rayne only had two slices.  It was infuriating how much he ate and how skinny he always remained.  Rayne broke down the pizza box putting it in the garbage when Tommy spoke from the kitchen table.  “I’ll call you every day when I’m gone.”

“Tommy, you don’t have to do that.  I’m sure you’ll be busy.”

“I’m going to call you every day.”  Rayne’s gaze softened and she smiled.

“And now I’ll have to share you with the world.”  Rayne smiled wide wrapping her arms around Tommy’s neck, who was still sitting at the table.

“No, you never have to share me with anybody.”  Tommy grazed his nose against Rayne’s causing her to giggle.  “I’m all yours.”

Rayne’s fingers traced over Tommy’s heart, “As long as I have this, I think I’ll be able to deal with any of the hardships.  You know it’s not going to be easy right Tommy? You could be gone for months on end eventually.”

“I know.  But I’m willing to put the work in if you are.”  Rayne nodded her head in acceptance.  “And you can always join me on the road whenever you want. Once we hit it big I’ll fly you across the word to me if I have to.”

Rayne’s heart warmed at his words.  She had to be strong and trust in Tommy, and trust in herself ultimately.  “I may hold you to that promise one day.”

“Please do, I’m looking forward to it.”  Tommy said softly leaning up to gently kiss Rayne on the lips.  He sighed when he pulled away, eyes still closed, “I missed you baby.”

“I missed you too Tommy.”  Rayne leaned back in to kiss Tommy.  Tommy quickly pushed the chair back and stood up, cradling Rayne’s face in his hands deepening the kiss.  Tommy only pulled away to scoop her up bridal style and carry her off into the bedroom for the rest of the night.

The sex was different this time than last, it was certainly more intimate and tender.  It was as if both of them wanted it to last as long as it possibly could because soon they wouldn’t have the opportunity until Tommy came back from Canada.  The two made love all night until they finally collapsed onto the pillows completely spent around 4am.

The next day Rayne’s eyes fluttered open, sunshine was cascading through the curtains of the bedroom.  Rayne stretched like a cat and as she did she felt the arm draping over her waist grip her tighter.  Turning in his arms she smiled to find Tommy still sleeping next to her. He looked so peaceful as he slept, his hair was tousled in his eyes.  At this angle Rayne noticed Tommy’s natural brown hair poking out from the roots.  For some reason she found it funny that Tommy dyed his hair black.  Rayne’s stomach growled and she knew she should probably get up and see if Tommy had anything in the fridge.  Glancing at the clock Rayne saw it was 9:43 in the morning.  She gently put her hand around Tommy’s wrist, lifting it up and off her body, resting it back on the mattress.  Rayne got up and off the bed thankfully without waking Tommy up.  After throwing on one of his oversized tank tops she padded out to the kitchen and looked through his fridge. As one would expect there wasn’t a whole lot in there, however Tommy did have a carton of eggs and some salsa. She could make due with that.

Rayne continued looking through cabinets and found some bread to make toast with.  She whisked the eggs and salsa together with some pepper and salt while the frying pan heated up.  Reaching for the portable radio on the counter Rayne turned the volume down before she turned the radio on, the sounds of My Kinda Lover by Billy Squire filtered through the kitchen.  Rayne began to dance along to the tune as she poured the whisked eggs into the pan.

You got the motions baby I got a notion maybe I'll stick around And oh I can never doubt you for too long I can't see no reason

“You’re my kinda lover.”  Tommy suddenly wrapped his arms around Rayne’s waist causing her to jump out of her skin.

“Oh my god you scared the fuck out of me.”  Rayne laughed bumping Tommy away from her with her butt.  “No fooling around by the stove.”

“What are you making?”  Tommy questioned jumping up slightly to sit on the counter.

“I’m attempting to make us an omelet however you didn’t give me much to work with in there.”  Rayne motioned towards the refrigerator.  “So you’ll have to make due with eggs and salsa.”

“Salsa?”  Tommy pulled a face.

“Yeah you mix it into the eggs, trust me it’s delicious.” Rayne defended her choice as she flipped the omelet in the pan making Tommy clap for her.

“Impressive.”  Tommy smiled.

“Oh it’s not that hard.  You should see me with pancakes.”  Rayne shrugged her shoulders.  When the omelet was finished Rayne slid it onto a plate and grabbed the toast from the toaster spreading some butter on it.  Rayne grabbed a fork and handed it to Tommy.  “Moment of truth.  Try it.”

Tommy cut a piece of the omelet off with his fork and took a bite. Rayne smiled when she saw his eyes light up.  “This is fuckin great.”

“See.  I told you so.  Now come sit at the table so I can eat some too.”  Rayne ordered as she took a bite out of her toast.

“So bossy.”  Tommy laughed hopping off the counter giving Rayne the perfect opportunity to give him a playful smack on the ass.

“You love it.  Now sit.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Are you packed?”  Rayne asked taking another bite of her toast.  Tommy nodded over to the two duffle bags.  “That’s it?  Two bags?”

“Yeah why?”  Tommy asked after swallowing a mouthful of eggs.

“Well Tommy you’re as high maintenance as I am, I expected at least five suitcases.”  Rayne giggled.

“Wanna know the truth?”  Tommy leaned in.

“Sure.”

“Most of it is makeup.”  Tommy winked causing Rayne to burst out laughing.

“I’m sure it is.  You definitely have more of that than me, hairspray too.”  

After breakfast the two cleaned up and got dressed for the day, ready to head off to the studio where the bus would be picking them up. Tommy put one of his leather jackets around Rayne’s shoulders as the November weather was starting to actually roll in.  Tommy then reached in his pockets pulling out a silver key.  “You’ll look after the place while I’m gone?”

Taking the key from his hand Rayne looked up at him smiling. “I’ll make sure the place doesn’t burn down, sure.”

“Leave some of your stuff here too.  I meant what I said, this place is as much yours as it is mine.  It doesn’t really feel like home to me because I had someone do everything.  You make it feel like home.”  Tommy said softly leaning in to gently kiss Rayne’s lips.

“I will.”  Rayne smiled pulling away.  “Come on, we don’t want you to be late.”

As the two arrived at the studio hand in hand they were greeted by Doc, Nikki, and Mick. Vince was still MIA, but he had ten minutes before they left.

“Good to see you two made up.”  Nikki directed at Rayne.  “Tommy has been impossible to deal with for the past few weeks.”

“Oh come on dude, I have not!”  Tommy defended.

“Nikki, I don’t know what I’m gonna do dude the love of my life won’t talk to me.”  Nikki tried to mimic Tommy’s voice.

Rayne looked up at Tommy, an eyebrow raised.  “Oh the love of your life huh?  Like the Queen song.”

“Love of my life you’ve hurt me.  You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me.”  Tommy quoted the lyrics from A Night At The Opera.  “Don’t take it away from me because you don’t know, what it means to me.  By the way Doc, this is my girlfriend Rayne.”

Rayne shook her head at Tommy’s quick change of subject and stuck her hand out to shake Doc’s hand.  “Nice to meet you Doc.”

“Likewise.”  Doc gave her a firm handshake looking her up and down.  

“Good luck dealing with this group.”  Rayne chuckled motioning to the other members of the band. She didn’t think Doc had any idea what he was in for.

“Look at this blond haired bitch who decided to show up on time.” Tommy shouted as Vince walked down the street with Jo on his arm.  Tommy grabbed Rayne’s wrist looking at her watch, “And five minutes to spare, alright.”

“Well you know, the bus waits for no one.”  Vince looked over at Doc who was getting on the bus and talking to the driver before turning his attention back to Jo.

“What is it fucking take your girlfriend to work day?” Nikki asked no one in particular.

“Wish I had a girlfriend.”  Mick mumbled under his breath.

“I know Mick, I know.”  Nikki said empathetically, something Rayne rarely saw out of Nikki. Tommy pulled Rayne off to the side away from the guys.

“I don’t wanna let you go.”  Tommy squeezed Rayne.  “Unfortunately baby you’re going to have to.  The tour will fly by and you guys will all have a great time.”

Tommy lifted Rayne up against the bus, instinctually she wrapped her legs around his waist.  “I love you.”

“I love you too.”  Rayne whispered back before kissing Tommy.  “You behave up in the great white north okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”  Tommy smiled brushing Rayne’s nose with his own.  “I’ve got my good luck charm with me.”

“What?”  Rayne questioned.  Tommy brought one hand to his jacket breast pocket pulling out the picture of Rayne that he had taken after their first night together.  Rayne’s eyes went wide.  She pushed the photo back in his pocket giggling, “Tommy, put that away!”

“Tommy come on let’s go!”  Nikki shouted banging on the window of the bus.  Tommy gently placed Rayne down onto the concrete giving her one final heated kiss, before he made his way to the bus door. “I’ll call you every night.”

“I’ll count down the minutes.”  Rayne whispered before Tommy brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.  “I love you.”

Tommy walked up the steps and just as the door was about to close Tommy shouted out to Rayne.  “I’m gonna marry you one day Rayne!”

Rayne watched in utter disbelief as the bus pulled away from the curb.  Jo walked up to Rayne, with tears in her eyes.  “Did he just propose to you?”

“I don’t know what that was.”  Rayne chuckled looking at her friend.  Rayne wiped Jo’s tears away with the pad of her thumb just as a lone tear fell from her own eye.  She definitely could use a distraction, she knew that her mind would be analyzing the last seven words Tommy said to her before the doors closed.  There’s no way he was serious, and there’s no way that was a proposal.  Right?  “Come on, what do you say you and I go get a massage to take our minds off our boys that are on their way to Canada and will come back bigger rockstars than they were last night.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.  I could use someone to work all the kinks out of my body, it was a deliciously rough night last night.”  Jo smiled at her friend as they began walking down the street.

“Oh with you and Vince?  I don’t doubt it.  How many karma sutra positions did you try this time?”

“I lost count after the seventh one.”  Jo giggled gently shaking her friend.  It would be a long month without their men, but at least the two had each other to lean on.

Take Me To The Next Chapter...

-- There you have it!  I know this chapter was a little shorter but I wanted to use this chapter as a way to transition.  I have a few ideas for where I want the next chapter to go, I just have to decide which one I’m for sure gonna go for.  As always if you have any feedback, or anything you would like to see send me a reply/message/ask!  Also I watched A Star Is Born for the first time last night and omg there are some moments in there that I loved, and gifs will definitely be used for this story!

[gamersonthego]

Chase Koeneke’s Top 10 Handheld Games of 2019

With the Switch in full gear and the debut of Apple Arcade, 2019 was another solid year for handheld games. Sequels to many of my favorite games were plentiful, but very few absolutely blew me away. And a few games I really loved (Slay The Spire, Return Of The Obra Dinn, Super Mega Baseball 2) were handheld ports of previous games I didn’t feel super great about adding to my list. So instead, I left this final year of the decade feeling content, and that’s perfectly OK too. So here are 10 games I liked this year, even if I didn’t love them.

10. Tetris 99 (Switch)

I love pretty much all iterations of Tetris. From the iconic Game Boy release I would play in the car, to the Facebook-based Tetris Friends that kept me company through many boring lectures in college, to last year’s gorgeous and powerful Tetris Effect, Tetris is A-OK with me.

Battle royale games on the other hand? Not so much. Despite enjoying shooters in general, I’ve yet to play a single match of PUBG, Fortnite or Apex Legends, and I’m not itching to change that anytime soon. But I found the mechanics of the battle royale genre to translate rather brilliantly to Tetris. It’s a thin experience (even with the expansions made to the game), but it’s an addictive one. And the fact I never quite crested the mountaintop – even if I did get a second place finish to video game Santa himself, Wario64 – is one of my biggest 2019 gaming regrets.

9. Mini Motorways (Apple Arcade)

Dinosaur Polo Club’s previous game, Mini Metro, made my top games of 2016 list, so it’s not surprising to see their latest game show up on this year’s list. What is a little surprising is how much of what could be said about Mini Metro can be echoed here on Mini Motorways. From my 2016 write-up:

Mini Metro wins my heart for its amazing ability to be serenely relaxing and nail-bitingly stressful simultaneously. Watching the train cars move back and forth around the sharp, minimalistic map brings a calming sense of satisfaction, but when the ever-growing amount of train stations hits critical mass, there were few experiences more harrowing this year. The basic strategy is smart and layered, preferring to let you experiment rather than tutorializing you to death up front.

You could remove the word “train” and get yourself a pretty accurate Mini Motorways review. But unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple. While I love a lot of what’s new in Mini Motorways – being able to create partial roads to better plan out cities from the start, colorful and sprightly graphics – the strategy and variety on display here actually pales to the previous game. One Mini Motorways upgrade, the traffic light, doesn’t even seem to function correctly. And the fun modifiers in Mini Metro’s different locations like Tokyo’s shinkasen are nowhere to be found here. Every city has a body of water to deal with, it’s just that some are slightly more of a pain than others. That’s not variety.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Mini Motorways and have put a lot of time into it. It’s my #9 after all. But if I had to pick just one to take up space on my phone, Mini Metro is getting that spot every time.

8. Risk Of Rain 2 (Switch, PS4, Xbox One, PC)

The first Risk of Rain also appeared on my games of 2016 list, and like Mini Motorways, the sequel is good, just not quite as good…and also feels a bit unfinished. But unlike Mini Motorways, Risk of Rain 2 made a bold change, ditching the two-dimensional world and sprite-based graphics for 3D polygons.

Bringing the z-axis to the tried and true roguelike mechanics of the original Risk of Rain makes for a new experience, for better and worse.

The worlds of RoR2 are bigger and more awe-inspiring. The 3D nature makes some classes and items feel more viable (like the melee Mercenary class) and it’s much easier to dodge incoming enemy attacks.

But the shift in perspective is anything but perfect. Just as enemies miss you more, so too will you often miss your own targets. The camera is both too close and yet also too far away, depending on the situation. The levels, after your inspired awe has left you, are barren, and the main objective of hunting for a teleporter to take you to the next area can be a frustrating venture as they are much more easily camouflaged in the polygonal zones.

It’s also just…not done. As of this writing, there’s no final boss fight, just a shrine that lets you sacrifice yourself to say you’ve “won.” There are missing classes on the menu and the artifact modifiers tab says “coming soon.” Last time I checked, the Switch was not an early access machine, and the fact that this version also gets a “Switch tax” makes it go down even more bitterly.

So why would a deeply flawed game like this make my list? Because the core loop of Risk of Rain is still better than most experiences out there. Stacking power-ups to near omnipotence is a blast, and running around with a friend or three in co-op is more fun than ever. Risk of Rain 2 may eventually become a great game someday, but for now, it’s a good game. And despite its issues, it’s still good enough for me.

7. Baba Is You (Switch, PC)

Sokoban meets coding logic; Baba Is You layers these puzzling elements to create something that feels familiar, yet fresh. It’s a simple concept: You push physical words around the self-contained areas to manipulate the level’s rules and collect a flag…or a different win condition if you’re clever enough.

Take the screenshot above for instance. “Baba is You” means you control Baba. “Flag is Win” means you need to touch the flag to win. But say you push the words “is Win” to vertically align with “Baba.” Now Baba is both you, the player and also the win condition, so you can forget the flag. You win automatically!

The puzzles continue in that fashion, ramping up the challenge very quickly (or maybe I’m just not very good at it.) I’m nowhere near mastering it, but for its highly inventive mix of environmental and logic problems, I’ve got an incredible amount of respect for it.

6. Assemble With Care (Apple Arcade)

I’m kind of down on Apple Arcade as a concept (I’d rather just pay for the few games I want and be done with it), but if games like Assemble With Care keep coming out, I might have to soften my stance. Assemble sees you repairing broken objects like rotary phones, cassette players and watches by using the touchscreen to pull objects apart, replace their busted components and piece them back together. It’s wonderfully serene: There’s no time limit, no logic-defying puzzle box qualities, no Operation-style buzzer if and when you make a mistake. It’s just nice.

A lesser game would leave it at that, but Assemble goes a step further, wrapping the repair mechanics with a short, satisfying story with solid writing and voice acting. It’s this year’s Florence, and while it may not be as impactful as that game, it’s a must play for anyone with an Apple Arcade subscription (or a good reason to burn your free trial if you’re not a subscriber).

5. Untitled Goose Game (Switch, PS4, Xbox One, PC)

Like Assemble With Care, Untitled Goose Game does not hang its hat so much on its mechanics as what it chooses to do with them. There are no fail conditions to Goose Game and what challenge it holds is relatively minimal. But it’s a true sandbox game in that it’s loaded the small town you inhabit with lots of little things to play with and discover. It’s Grand Theft Auto, except they’ve replaced carjacking and shooting with taking an old man’s stool or honking at a kid until he hides inside a phone booth. You’re an asshole, you’re just not a malicious asshole.

A list of tasks helps to keep you focused, but it’s more of a nudge in the right direction so you can discover something else to mess with or people to bother. And once the game is “over,” you get a new, more inventive list of tasks, all with the benefit of the entire sandbox available to you. It might not be the most complex game, but when it comes to the enjoyment of play, it’s one of the best this year.

4. The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening (Switch)

I’m well known for my aversion to finishing Zelda games. I’ve played almost all of them and have finished exactly two of them (Oracle of Seasons and A Link Between Worlds, probably not the two you’d expect). And despite enjoying it, even the original Link’s Awakening eluded me, so seeing it get an overhaul in the form of a Switch version excited me. Not only was this a second chance for me to play a classic, but it was also another opportunity for the world to see how great handheld games have always been.

Outside of the really well done tilt-shifted graphics, the remake is mostly made up of small quality of life improvements. The overworld isn’t as rigidly screen-based anymore, allowing the player a little more finesse in dealing with enemies. Some equipment, that on the original Game Boy version must be switched in and out ad nauseam, now has dedicated buttons on the controller (never again must you be without your sword). All these decisions allow for the charm of the design to shine through even easier than its original version.

Would it be nice if the frame rate were more consistent? Sure. Is the Chamber Dungeon a completely extraneous and half-baked idea? Totally. Does it tarnish the fun that’s there to be had here? Not in the slightest.

I’m proud to say Link’s Awakening has joined the pantheon of Zelda games I’ve actually finished. Now maybe someday I’ll finish that “Link to the Past” that everyone keeps talking about…

3. Super Robot Wars T (Switch, PS4)

Super Robot Wars X made my list last year despite me having only played the PS4 version. So it feels a little more legitimate to have played the Switch version of Super Robot Wars T this year. It’s still not available in the US (you have to import a copy of the Asia version that comes with English subtitles,) and it’s still an extremely flawed game with its repetitive and uninspired level design and overly complicated systems, but man, I love this bad game so much.

I love tinkering in T’s dense mechanics, upgrading my anime mechs for perfect turn-based strategy synergy. I love jumping through hoops to find the right way to recruit new units. And I still love the over the top battle animations – seriously, if you’re bitching about Pokemon’s weak animations, the video above will show you Super Robot Wars has your back.

Plus they’ve added Spike Spiegel from Cowboy Bebop this time around, so there’s at least one recognizable character from a non-Gundam anime you’ve probably seen in here. That’s…progress.

Look, this game probably isn’t for you, but it is totally for me. And Christmas came early this year in that Super Robot Wars V (which came before last year’s X – the naming conventions are not here to make sense) got ported to the Switch, and last year’s Super Robot Wars X will get ported soon too. That’s a lot of anime turn-based strategy to play, and I couldn’t be happier.

2. Pokemon Sword/Shield (Switch)

After much Internet handwringing from an extremely vocal minority, the new Pokemon games came out. And, what do you know, they’re good. Really good. They continue the slow evolution (I’m so sorry) of the franchise with small quality of life enhancements, a few new features and a little trimming of the vestiges. I appreciate the renewed focus on gyms and gym leaders and the single connected world, even if it basically two circles with a straight bit in the middle.

The new Pokemon are…fine. Very few that I detest, but also very few that I’d be willing to write home about. The new Max Raid Battles are generally pretty cool, but they all take advantage of the gimmick I’m least thrilled about: Dynamaxing. Making a Pokemon bigger for three turns is not all that compelling to me. And the Gigantamax variants with their special appearances are neat, but it’s basically just a worse form of Mega Evolution.  

So yeah, it’s a good entry in the series. And a good Pokemon game is pretty hard to top in my book.

1. Fire Emblem Three Houses (Switch)

Hard to top, that is, unless you’re Fire Emblem. But despite being a new game in my favorite franchise, I was actually dreading Three Houses. The pre-release coverage did not leave me optimistic. Old features I hated were making a comeback (cough, weapon durability, cough). The art style couldn’t hold a candle to the jaw-droppingly gorgeous previous entry, Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia. And whether Intelligent Systems was admitting it or not, there was a strong Persona-fication at play here (don’t get me wrong, I love Persona, but if you’re going to get your Persona chocolate in my Fire Emblem peanut butter, I’d rather you just make a sequel to Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE.)

So the hopes, they were not high. But Three Houses exceeded my expectations with a cast of characters I really grew to love. My loveable loser Golden Deer crew went from zeroes to heroes, and the ability to recruit students from other classes meant I got to make my dream team (Hilda, Petra, and Lysithea were my undisputed MVPs) when saving the world.

The story was deep and complex, and hearing how it changes based on which house you align with is pretty cool. I enjoyed the control I had in molding my students, and appreciated seeing them have a breakthrough in something they used to struggle with, and it becoming one of their best qualities. Turning a lazy, valley girl like Hilda into a front line tank and hearing her bitching about it every step of the way was especially enjoyable.

It’s not my favorite in the series, but I’m glad it’s seen pretty universal appeal and sales from the community at large, cementing its status as one of Nintendo’s premier franchises. Someday I will play through all four of its routes, but for now, I’m content with it comfortably sitting as my favorite handheld game of 2019.

[team-science-mega-nerds]

Any Stranger I Choose (Chapter 2/3)

PART ONE HERE

Sam has lost all of her nerve by the following morning. She spends about five minutes nervously pacing before she sends out an S.O.S. text to Jess and Lena, and invites them to meet her at Luna’s Cafe in thirty minutes. It’s early. 6:30 AM early, but somehow Sam knows that her best friends will be there for her no matter what. And yes, Sam does spend an extra five minutes doing her makeup and picking her nicest bra - and the easiest to unclasp - because she still wants this.

She just hopes Alex does too.

The drive to the cafe takes far too long for a Saturday morning, but construction is overtaking the city, and Sam takes those extra minutes to think over everything that happened yesterday. Half of it bordered on humiliating but most of it was...lovely. Sensual. The things she had been missing from her life.

When Sam darts past some suits and aging hipsters, she finds that Jess and Lena are already sitting at a table, three mugs sitting at the center, talking animatedly about something. Lena’s eyes light up when she spots Sam and Jess scrambles to pull back a chair. “There she is. The woman of the hour.” Lena slides a mug in front of Sam and smiles. “Can I start off by saying: I can’t believe you didn’t text us last night. I’m dying for details.”

“Oh, god.” Sam tucks her hair behind her ears. She’s struggling to find the right words. “Well, for starters, I didn’t know this was a masturbation thing. I thought we were going to…”

“Oh…Jesus.” Lena’s eyes go wide. “Didn’t you read the email I sent you?”

“No! Which I obviously regret now.” Sam allows Jess to pat her hand. It’s pity and she doesn’t even care. “After spending five minutes freaking out, Alex was actually…” Sam rubs the back of her neck. “Really sweet and...once I felt comfortable enough, I actually got the courage to try.”

“How was it? Awkward? Weird? Fun? Did you...get there?” Jess asks.

“I would’ve if I didn’t freak out so much. She didn’t overstep or anything, but she helped me get undressed-.” Lena’s mouth hits the ground. Sam's trying to stay poised and casual. “The point is...do you guys think it’s a good idea for me to maybe...go further?”

“Hell yes!” Lena yells so loud that the entire cafe looks at them.

“Do you think she would?” It’s a great question and one that Sam has been considering for the past few hours.

“Jess, you should’ve seen her yesterday. She was having as much fun as I was.” Sam sighs. “I don’t know how to initiate it. She’s...cool and I’m-.”

“Stop right there, Arias.” Lena rests her hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You are smart, beautiful, and absolutely capable of getting railed by Alex Danvers.” Lena could probably learn a little finesse but Sam appreciates how confident Lena is. “Speaking of the devil.” Sam follows Lena’s eyes to the line in front of the register. Where Alex is standing.

Of course.

“Wow, she’s hotter in person. How is that even possible?” Jess is practically drooling, Sam has to physically turn Jess’s face so they don’t all look like creepy stalkers. Sam tries to sink in her seat. She doesn’t want to notice that Alex’s hair is a little messier than necessary. The sleeves on her t-shirt are rolled up just enough that Sam can now see that she has a tattoo of a bird on the inside of her bicep. She must have at least fifteen tattoos, maybe more, and Sam wants to see all of them. She wants to be wrapped in those arms. She wants those arms to lift her and throw her down on that giant bed. “Get a grip, Sam.”

“Shut up,” Sam mumbles. She continues watching Alex who gets a coffee - to go - and a small container of fruit. The barista says something that makes Alex laugh. Her laugh is light and cute, and Sam feels unnecessarily jealous that she isn’t the one who is the cause of something so wonderful. Whatever Alex’s response is, the barista laughs loudly, utterly charmed by Alex. As everyone probably is.

Sam is ready to watch Alex leave. She needs a few more hours to gather her courage, she should change into another dress, and maybe put on more makeup. But Alex spots her and approaches. “Hey, Sam.” Jess is fawning and Lena is amused. Sam must look flustered because she can see that Alex is looking at her with those soft eyes that had been enough to convince Sam to get half naked the night before. “Are you stalking me?”

“We just happen to be in the neighborhood,” Lena supplies. “ You’re up early. I thought artists usually slept in.”

“I’m still stuck on East Coast time. Though I am a bit of an early riser.” Alex is talking to Lena, technically, but her eyes keep finding Sam’s. “We’re a two-minute walk from my apartment,” Alex’s smile is easy. And Sam is blushing way too much, like always.

“Sounds like you’re trying to get her to go home with you,” Jess tells Alex.

“I am.” The back of Alex’s hand is at her side, almost touching Sam’s arm. She wants to be touched. She’s waiting. “If not for my work, you left something there last night. You know that thing ?” Oh. So, Alex is toying with her. It’s a game, one that Sam fully intends to play.

“Right.” Sam finishes her coffee and stands. “Are you sure it’s not too early?”

“No, I’m ready for you.” Lena and Jess exchange looks, hanging onto every word and look that Alex and Sam share. “And this time of day is my favorite for shooting. With this light and you, what could be better than that?”

Lena looks as though she might scream but Sam manages to wave Alex off. After their quick goodbyes, Sam and Alex start for the exits, and Sam can feel her phone vibrating erratically in her pocket. She assumes that Jess and Lena are texting her various versions of “OH MY GOD!!!” Alex opens the door for Sam and says something about it being a nice day out.

Sam can barely hear her. Sam is focused on the fact that her hands are all clammy and she feels so young. Any version of attention that she receives is enough to turn her insides to goo. This is going to be a long day. “I like your dress,” Alex says simply. Sam feels silly wearing this delicate floral print but Alex toys with the fabric that is wrapped around Sam’s waist, holding the dress in place.

If Alex were to grab the fabric and pull then that would be one less thing sitting between Alex’s hands and Sam’s body. But Alex doesn’t pull, she just keeps watching and taking in the morning air. “I took your advice.”

“About…?”

“Taking photos of myself. I did it.” Alex watches Sam’s face closely. “It was different.”

“Can you do that? I mean how did you take the photos if your hands were...busy.” Sam rolls her eyes at her own words. Alex pulls her keys out of her pocket and unlocks the front door of the building.

“Timers. I’ve learned lots of tricks over my career.”

“Oh.” They get into the elevator and stand on the other side of the tiny space, Alex stands shoulder to shoulder with Sam. It feels like 3 am, not 7. Sam feels tipsy. Drunk on Alex’s smile. Her arms. Her eyes.

“Everything alright?”

“I’m fine, you just...I didn’t expect to see you so early.” Sam tries not to smile or look dorky. “Nerves again.”

“Honestly, if you look at the photos you took, you don’t look nervous at all. That kind of confidence...it suits you.” They exit the elevator and head for Alex’s apartment. Alex has a whole ring of keys and she takes a long time figuring out which one is which. “Jesus Christ, I need to get rid of like half of these,” Alex says as she finally unlocks her door.

“You need a good assistant.” Alex laughs and then, not so faintly, Sam hears someone scoff from inside the apartment. As they enter, this person becomes clear. Not just a person, a woman, wearing clothes so comfortable that she looks as though she’s just woken up. This woman is holding an open laptop in her hand and as soon as she sees Alex she grabs for the container of fruit.

“About time,” She says all carefree and charming. Alex sets her coffee mug down, cleans off a chair, and offers it to Sam.

“Sam, this is Siobhan, my assistant.”

“Your lifesaver, more like,” Siobhan corrects, shaking Sam’s hand, and diving into the pieces of strawberries, berries, and orange slices. “You never said you had a session this morning.”

“Well, I do.”

“Our shared calendar exists for a reason.” This sounds like a conversation that they’ve had many times. Siobhan doesn’t seem too bothered, Alex seems slightly annoyed.

“To piss me off, yes, I remember.” Alex pulls a face. One that’s meant only for Sam. It feels nice to be included, if only briefly. “I do need you to set up a meeting with the curator if you have time today.”

“I always have time for you.” Siobhan flicks the top of Alex’s head, gathers her bag, and heads for the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” It’s a warning. Or a joke. Alex just smirks, waits for Siobhan to leave, and turns to Sam.

“I can’t promise anything to anyone.” Alex clasps her hands together. Rejuvenated. “Would you like something to drink?” It occurs to Sam that this is just a thing that Alex does. Offers up something nice, does the polite thing, all while trying her best to maintain the facade that she hasn’t let her eyes travel below Sam’s neck. Sam wants to be on the bed. Now.

“Sure,” Sam says. Unlike yesterday, Alex does know where the drinks are. She pours Sam something that looks like sangria and adds slices of oranges before she hands her the glass. She looks curious and downright handsome just leaning in front of her watching and waiting until it’s the right time for Sam to get naked again. “Do you work well with your assistant?”

“Eh.” Alex shrugs. “It’s not really my thing but I’m not great with all the logistical stuff. It’s boring.”

“You’re right, this is more fun.”

“It is.” Alex takes the cup out of Sam’s hand and sets it on the counter. “You probably shouldn’t be drinking. I keep forgetting that this is a job and not…”

“It’s okay, you know. This is actually making me feel a lot better about…”

Neither one of them can figure out a way to end a sentence. But Alex grabs Sam’s hand and leads her to the bed. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Should we start like before?” Alex sits on the stool and grabs her camera. Sam is on the edge of the bed unsure of how they started yesterday but certain of how they ended up. “Or can I try something?”

“That sounds mysterious.” Sam laughs. “Should I be worried?”

“No.” Alex takes a test shot and adjusts her camera. “It’ll be fun.”

“For you?”

“For you, hopefully.” Alex smiles wide. “Indulge me.” Sam decides that maybe she should, not just because Alex is asking, but because she’s said 'no' to so much in her life. Lena had poked and prodded at Sam so much that she finally finally thinks that it’s about time to start having some fun.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Alex stands and raises her camera again. “So...here’s the thing.” Alex motions for Sam to stand and as they’re standing there, Sam suddenly realizes that Alex is touching her. Touching her hand, then her bicep, and now Alex has wedged her arm behind Sam’s back, and her fingers are touching the zipper of Sam’s dress. “If I saw you out and about in the real world. I’d buy you a drink or coffee.” Alex pulls the zipper, only one or two inches, just enough for Sam to feel the heat of the sun masking the heat radiating off Alex’s fingers. “But that’d be all premise. Bullshit prologue just to get you up here.” Sam can’t stop looking at the camera. Her cheeks are warm, legs just starting to tremble. “I like that look.”

“What look?”

“The way you look when you’re reminded that you’re beautiful. The way you look when you’re just starting to believe it.”

“Shut up.” Sam looks away from the camera, in a weak attempt at composing herself.

“Should I?”

“No.” Sam moves closer to Alex and Alex unzips the rest of the way down. Lingering hands that want to touch, probably would too, but can’t. The dress doesn’t fall to the ground. Alex likes this , Sam thinks. One wrong or right move and Sam will be standing there wearing only her bra and underwear.

“May I?” Alex’s fingers linger on the straps of the dress. She’s waiting for permission.

“If you want.”

“What do you want?” Sam laughs. How can she not? What she wants is for Alex to stop hiding behind her camera. She wants Alex to say that she’s beautiful. She wants to be touched. She wants someone to kiss the insides of her thighs. She wants to moan like she did yesterday. She wants to be completely unafraid.

Alex must sense Sam’s hesitation. “What do you want me to do?” Alex rephrases.

“Take off the dress.”

Watching her dress fall to the ground feels like shedding skin. Watching Alex fumble with her camera is worthy validation for this feeling. Which is why Sam returns to her spot on the bed, waits patiently for Alex to take more photos. Waits for Alex to run her fingers through her cropped hair. Laughs at Alex’s failed attempt at small talk. “I thought you were suave,” Sam says with a laugh. The sun has fully ignited the room. Sam has blossomed. Alex hasn’t once apologized for looking where she shouldn’t. They are indulging, they are slowly getting free.

“I am. I just wanted to hear your laugh again.” Sam could spend years in this room.

“Alex?” Sam is ready. Sam is alive and ready and Alex is literally the most beautiful person she’s ever met. “I wish you’d stop hiding behind that camera.” Sam realizes, as Alex is slowly lowering her camera, that she should learn how to be more direct. Ask for what she wants, even though Alex’s eyes tell Sam that Alex understands her completely.

Silence follows. Too much silence.

Alex is propping her camera up on some kind of stand. Sam feels the tension in the room expand. Her heart races in a way that she’s never experienced before. Alex is completely calm. Completely focused on Sam. And when Alex stands at the edge of the bed, grabs the undersides of Sam’s thighs, and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed, Sam thinks that she might actually pass out. “Can I taste you? I’ve wanted to since I first saw you.”

“S-sure. Yeah.”

“The camera is still taking photos. Whatever you do, don’t lay down.” Sam nods. Her eyes follow Alex’s. Alex gets down on her knees and slowly - so slow that it’s painful - tugs down Sam’s underwear. Sam feels more exposed than before but also completely comfortable. Horny too, obviously.

“What? No foreplay?” Sam says surprised that her mouth even still works.

“It’s been two days of foreplay. You okay, Gorgeous?” If anyone on the planet had called her ‘gorgeous’ like some kind of pet name, Sam would be kicking them in the face. But Alex dove in like she’d been ready and waiting to make Sam sharply inhale forever.  

And oh god does Sam get it. Every misguided hook up had been a scam. One where Sam had been fooled into believing that sex was just sex. Right now, Alex was making her believe in something greater. Something that made Sam unashamed of moaning, unashamed of being unable to choose between closing her eyes and opening them. Alex was a pro or a wizard or something that qualified her to be deserving of a Nobel Prize.

And it wasn’t just her tongue. It was gentle kisses that made Sam scream. Hands that pulled her closer, hands that pushed Sam’s legs wider apart. Sam grabs Alex’s hair because she can’t grab anything else. The gentle hum that this elicits from Alex is like a switch. One that makes Sam feel powerful. “Do you like that?”

“Yes.” So Sam pushes and pulls, letting her hands do the praising that her words can’t seem to get across. To tell Alex to  keep going or that feels incredible . When Sam is close she knows it. She can feel her body teetering, with bliss waiting just around the corner. Alex knows it too because she pushes her tongue inside Sam and touches Sam’s clit with her finger, gently rubbing and pushing until Sam releases.

And when she does, Alex holds her through it. Whatever Alex is whispering, Sam can’t hear her, but it soothes her enough to get Sam to finally breathe again. She feels like a teenager again, not because of the sex - it’s never been anything like this - but because of the way that her heart feels like it might explode.

Alex does let her go. Just long enough to grab her camera and take a few final shots. Sam’s legs are so shaky that she doesn’t even bother doing anything other than basking in the hazy and wondrous afterglow. Sam is in love.

Totally and fully in love. It’s a brief experience, this version of love. She wants to hold onto it. Forever. But eventually it fades and she’s left to realize that the crush that she has on Alex is still fully intact. She doesn’t feel dirty or used. She feels like she wants to see Alex again. She wants to take her out for that drink. Get her to laugh. Sam feels clingy. She doesn’t care. “You alright?”

“God, yes.” Sam smiles and Alex lays on the bed beside her, elbow propped up beside her head. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Alex chuckles. “Anytime.”

“Okay. If you mean it.”

“You know…” Alex tucks a stray strand of hair back beside Sam’s ear. “I don’t have to use any of those photos.”

“You don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to. But it’s...this was different for you.” Alex is so close to Sam that Sam wonders if they’re going to kiss. “You were honest in ways that other people can’t be. You’ve surprised me, Sam. And I would love for those photos to be in the exhibit, but more than that...I hope you’ll be there.”

“That’s sweet.” Sam lightly touches Alex’s arm. “I'll be there.”

“Good.” Alex looks at her thoughtfully and then says, “So why do you work at that big company?”

“Huh?”

“LCorp. Why do you work there?”

“It’s just a job.” Sam thinks. “One that I’m good at.”

“ Just a job . Hm.” Alex lays on her back. “Is that really what you want to be doing?”

“Are you really criticizing my job right now? Not everyone can be a world famous photographer who is stupidly attractive. And way too good at giving head.” Sam lays on her back beside Alex. “I am happy. Most of the time, at least.”

“Good. Happy is good.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

“I could be convinced. I’m just not so sure happy is out there for me.” It’s the first time that Alex’s heart is really out there. Sam can see the pain, the slight uneasiness. It’s a chance that Alex seems to be taking on Sam. It’s brave.

“Oh, I see. The sad artist card.” Sam pokes Alex’s side. “Well, my guess is that you have a lot of freedom. You can travel anywhere in the world. So, if you’re not happy, then you should go find out what happy means for you.”

“I’m happy right now.” Alex’s eyes catch Sam’s. “So...what does that mean?”

“Fucking traffic in this city is-.” Sam scrambles to grab her dress, Alex flies off the bed, as Siobhan enters the room carrying a large box of supplies. “Oh...fuck.” Alex rushes over to stand between Siobhan and Sam, trying her best to calm Siobhan’s shock. “Wow, Alex. Seriously?”

“Shut up.”

Sam pulls on her dress and struggles to zip up the back. She isn’t sure if she should run or hide or sign an NDA. “Hey, I’m gonna…” Sam points to the door. Alex is stuck between a rock in a hard place. Siobhan is not chill and Alex needs to put out that fire.

Sam knows, really knows that she won’t see Alex before the exhibit opens. And she’s okay with it. Sure, she feels like a user and like maybe there was a little spark between them. But who is she kidding? Alex is way out of her league and she should just let it all go before her desperation hurts her. Sam is halfway across the street, when she hears, “Hey, wait up!” Alex catches up to her at the crosswalk and they walk together.

“Sorry about that.”

“Oh, about Siobhan? Yeah, whatever.” Alex waves it off. “That was my fault. I don’t normally…” Alex cringes a little. Sam can sense it, whatever might have happened between them, it’s slipping away. “I was sort of wondering if-.”

“I won’t tell anyone about what happened. It probably shouldn’t have. It was fun, but...I mean come on. You travel the world. I stay at home.” Alex’s face falls and Sam realizes that this is not what Alex expected. “Hey, and about the photos...you should use whichever ones you want. Surprise me, okay?”

“Oh...right. Sure.” Alex tries to smile. “It’s in a few months so...thanks for being my...model.” Alex holds out her hand and Sam shakes it awkwardly. “I’ll see you around.” Watching Alex walk away is easy. At that moment it feels like the right thing. But later, when Sam is eating dinner alone and getting weird photos - they’re memes, mom! - from Ruby, Sam realizes that it’s all a mistake.

Chemistry isn’t just about sex. Alex and Sam were seconds away from figuring that out and if Sam had just held it together, held onto that moment, then she would’ve asked Alex out. But Sam isn’t good at asking for what she wants. That’s the whole reason she never even came close to well - coming . And now, all Sam can hope for is that the memory is strong enough. That one of them will crack and call and she’ll get a chance to actually do what she wants for a change.

Waiting is the worst part. Sam isn’t sure she’s ready.

[holycowbrowniekitty]

23.5 The Golden Age p. 120-133

This is the match summary of everything that happened in Shinteni from the shuffle match between Oni and Tooyama on until the match against the Swiss! It features some extra comments from most characters, so it’s not only data.

(p.124-125 are seperate)

My translations can all be found here.

p. 120

Golden Age: The footsteps from the match

The warriors of the world participate in tough matches, cultivating their character by polishing the talents of the youth like an unpolished gemstone. Their strength is still nothing to speak of, but everyday they chase that beam of light. (TL note: The youths polish their talents like an unpolishd gemstone)

U17 Japanese representatives boarding camp Shuffle match Japanese representatives VS 2 selections

Together they reached Tenimuhou no Kiwami! The match filled with bright smiles is controlled by the demon!

It seems he pinches the youth, but Oni actually crushes Kintarou without hurting him. The memories of that excitement awakened Kintarou.

Running through the court, left and right, is the happiness of tennis!!

(Pic: Zoomed out shot of tennis court) By remembering the great joy of a strong opponent that didn't dissapoint him, Kintarou reached Tenimuhou no Kiwami.

The Demon's power awakened Kintarou's sleeping potential!

(Pic: Oni) Oni who extracted the potential out of Kintarou already had reached Tenimuhou no Kiwami.

Messages from the audience have arrived!

Chitose: Kinchan…After all he finally reached Tenimuhou. Please keep enjoying tennis.

Nakagauchi: I'm glad Oni. It's been a long time since I saw such an expression on your face.

Yamato: Heh, that was a really interesting match. I instinctively kept watching (*^_^*)

Amane: A flawless play is for lawless. Pf. Bane: You're saying the same things as ever! (TL note: The state of Tenimuhou is a lawless area)

p. 121

Black VS Nullify shows that Tanegashima can also understand many of the middle schoolers. (TL note: something like that)

With their strong personality clash,  Sanada and Akutsu seem to have an explosive situation. However with their contrasting careers and playstyles, they can mutually improve their power…!

The wall of Nullify stands high…

(Pic: Tanegashima nullifying) Sanada's black Aura was also nullified by Tanegashima's Halt Destruction Nothingness.

Just…a little bit more!

(Pic: Akutsu) Akutsu's boiling instinct contrasts with Sanada's passionate fire.

The ball curved a second time!?

(Pic: Negative) Was partnering with Akutsu beneficial…!? The Black Aura that was hit multiple times shows en evolution by bending once again.

One day they will fullfill their promise of having a serious match.

Ryoma chased after Ryoga's back since he was young, as he is an eternal worthy opponent. When his brother unexpectedly appeared, the nostalgia of the match blazes up again.

(Pic: Ryoga and Ryoma) The serious match with Ryoga.  Long after the day they parted, they promised to meet up again soon.

There's one more promise that Ryoma is aiming for

(Pic: Ryoma jumping) Because Ryoma knows what a crisis feels like because of Tokugawa, he keeps going to Tokugawa because of their interrupted match.

Shishido: Aren't Sanada and Akutsu Jin really a mess? Ootori: They're good partners! Shishido-san!

Kawamura: Akutsu Jin…If we could face off in a match I'd be happy!

Hirari/Tenjin: Yeah!! We sawsome cool things! Brother!!

Tsuge: Who made the holes in the buildings and trees outside of the court!!

Akutagawa: I really wanna play "Acchi Muite hoi" as well c~ (TL note: Game, look over there)

p.122

With fresh blood being scattered around, where lifespan got shaved and used up, the conclusion of this struggle of life and death lies in the future…

Tokugawa, who was once completely defeated by Byoudoin, overwhelmed him, approaching victory slowly. However, what hindered him was the dishonor he's carrying of Ryoma saving him in the match the night before.

Pirates of the world VS Black Hole

(Pic: Pirates) The Tokugawa who has rapidly gorwn awakened with the power of a dynast. Tokugawa gets closer to bringing down the opponent with each swipe of his blade!

(Pic: Black hole) When Tokugawa releases it, the space gets scraped away and he grasps the ball between the thin gap of space-time with this ultimate technique. However, it takes a great load on his body as Tokugawa slowly erases his life force…

Messages from the audience have arrived!

Minami: W…What a flashy match…! Higashikata: That black hole…is mesmerizing!

Kai: I also really admire pirates, but no matter how you look at it, that's scary!

Date: When i look at him, the wound on my forehead starts throbbing.

Oshitari (Kenya): So this is the top of Japan? I don't know if I'm shaking in fear or with excitement!!

Kurobe: Tokugawa-kun and Byoudoin-kun grew far beyond my expectations. I'm looking forward to the W-cup.

p. 123

Tezuka and Ryoma

They each walk their own path Tezuka and Ryoma went to other countries to grow even more and search for better environments. They had to chance to meat worthy opponents and teachers, and as if guided by fate, they both chose a new world to attack.

The top pros choose their resourcefulness!

(Pic: Volk) The man who shoulders Germany's future, Volk, saw Tezuka's potential faster than anyone else. As an 18 year old pro, he nominated Tezuka as his practice partner.

(Pic: Volk talking) IN order to encourage Tezuka to realize his full potential and endless talent, Volk invited him to the German representatives.

His brother's invitation swayed his heart…

(Pic: Ryoga talking to Ryoma) "I want to play with you" are the words left by his brother that managed to violently sway Ryoma's heart.

Use force against the major country opponents!

(Pic: Ryoma) Even if the opponents were from America, they could recognize Ryoma's style with one look at his racket. (TL note: not sure)

p. 126

U17Wcup Exhibition match To be defeated indicates potential

With their resolution and awakening, each one of them shines with the light of potential.

Before the Wcup started, Japan had a match with the king Germany. Japan's players were against the world's number one in power and impressions, and each brought back a burning desire to improve oneself back from the court.

The compassionate man hits a soft ball

(Pic: Duke hitting a volley) Duke releases the power he originally held with his former comrades. That essence isn't power, but soft finesse.

To shoot a ball  

(Pic: Fuji and Duke) Duke unbalances the opponents with both his power and his technique, and is compatible with Fuji who can attack and defend at will.

Attack Fuji!!

(Pic: Fuji hitting Hollyhock blizzard) We can see the master of counters Fuji attack angrily, this demonstrates his true face.

To deliver a vow

(Pic: Tezuka catching a ball) Fuji hits a shot that decides their victory, showing his awakening to his guidepost, who was originally Tezuka.

A comment from the benchmembers!

Marui: Good luck Yukimura-kun! I was worried when you got yipsed. Niou: Puri. To be able to slip out of it, that's expected of our captain.

Shiraishi: There's nothing wasteful about Duke-san's muscles, isn't that good.

Oni: Tokugawa protects the juniors, while Irie progresses them. That's how it is.

Sanada: Recoup your strength for another attack.

p. 127

His resolution to retake the world with righteousness!!

(Pic: Tokugawa) Yukimura who stood in a daze after having his five senses stolen, was protected by Tokugawa from attacks. No matter what situation, his righteousness is unshakeable.

The awakening towards a new power

(Pic: Yukimura and Tokugawa Howling) Tokugawa's prediction and Yukimura's yips resonated, and the power to know the future was born.

The disgrace of submitting to the king

(Pic: Atobe kneeling) Atobe and Irie kneel to teh German representatives Tezuka and the masterwork of the German Tennis Academy QP.

The pride hits the flag!!!

(Pic: Yukimura) When they were facing a likely loss, Yukimura's shot out of stubbornness penetrated Germany's flag!

A comment from the members who watched the match later (TL note: The later match?)

Saeki: You steadily grew stronger Fuji. However, I won't lose either.

Mizuki: Nfu, I didn't think I'd see Howling in this place…I am surprised. Akazawa: Huh, what's that? That sounds tasty! Is it an Australian speciality? Mizuki: You…

Oshitari: That Atobe really fell to his knees…But it seems he has broken through his doubts. Kabaji: Atobe-san…I'm always…

p. 128

U17Wcup Group league B Block 1st round Team Shou Australia takes a complete victory over Greece! The vigorous mark of victory takes off!

Japan's innovativeness will drill a hole into the land of myths!

The defense of the world of light!!

(Pic: Herakles jumping around) Herakles can swiftly jump around despite his large body and contrasts Ochi's quiet conduct. This is where a normal person enters the world of light. (TL note: Fire of the world?)

Oishi's pressure calls for victory!

(Pic: Oishi beaten up) Oishi's resolution brought down the opponent. As a result, without even touching the ball, Oishi dominated the match.

Their opponents are veterans who wield transcendental power like the gods. Tanegashima who is the leader of the Japanese team uses unusual play in the contrary. With their new way of thinking and courage, they will destroy the stuff of legends!

Comments to team Shou!

Momoshiro: Oishi-senpai, you really showed us some solid courage!

Kikumaru: Oishi…I always believed until the last that you'd win! Just the vision of you not running away, no matter the situation, it was really shiny nya~ Get better soon! I'm looking forward to when I can play doubles with the grown you again

Fukushi: Whenever I look at that Ochi guy, my stomach tenses all up…!

Horio/Kachiro/Katsuo: Oishi-senpai, that was a nice fight! You looked really cool! Seigaku fight!

Taki: That Tohno guy has really silky hair…Not bad.

p. 129 The execution battle of the pandemonium

(Pic: Tohno) With their opponents coming from a household of executioners, Tohno challenged them to an execution match. That aspiration was looking forward to cruelly defeating the traditions of the original household.7

And then the execution is completed

(Pic: Apollon's head) This is retribution! Tohno's skills stop their movement and cuts through the madness as well.

Everything unfolds in the palm of the God

(Pic: Zeus) At a first glance, it looks like Tanegashima is on the offence, but Zeus is directing the match. Being played around in a God's hand results in a likely loss.

Even the God was fooled by the revolt on his palm!

Even Zeus couldn't read the course of Tanegashima's counterattacks. The god of omniscience was fooled…and all because he grasped a little cap in the palm of his hand! Kamio: That Kirihara guy, he's using his dangerous tennis as usual! Ibu: While we're talking about that seaweed, that changing into a demon is super bad…murmur. Tachibana: Even then, he still got exceptionally better since playing me. It is a splendid growth. Kamio/Ibu: That's right! Tachibana-san!!

Urayama: Kirihara-senpai's match was suuuuuper scary deyansu~

Zaizen: What was captain Shiraishi thinking. However, they played a remarkable match. (TL note: What do I think about captain Shiraishi?) Kaido: That bastard Tanegashima..He isn't an ordinary guy after all.

Sanada: Put the armor of  your heart on the left (TL note: No clue what this four compound kanji is supposed to mean)

p. 130

U17Wcup Group league B Block 2nd round An all out war with those who carry their countries pride! The controlling team Chiku!!

They crush the home team with their steely resolves!!

With Oni leading the group of middle schoolers, Team Bai stops the enemy line. Team Australia that gathered strength because of the cheers of their home country and the plans of their genius strategist Noah, was done in by the japanese spirit and Atobe's ingenuity.

(Pic: Jean) By linking together to form a defense, Australia devices a plan to block Japan's attacks.

Outside the court, fireworks scatter

The Iron wall is torn away by the two headed dragon!! Yukimura who can pierce through the holes of the iron wall and Sanada's black dragon eat the opponent two-folds!

(Pic: Yukimura) Atobe's suggestive words seem to continue, as Yukimura's tennis steals the senses away!

Messages to team Chiku!

Yanagi: Seiichi, Genichirou…you have known eachother for a long time. The strength of that bond you guys have is burned into my eyes. Jackal: Isn't that the Iron wall's defence…! How interesting, it's a competition with me!

Yagyuu: Unbelievable! Can it be that Niou-kun and Atobe-kun exchanged places…! O-of course I noticed it.

Atsushi: Kusukusu Yanagisawa: The authentic Australian formation was amazing dane!

Yuuta: Aniki was amazing as expected! However, I'll definitely show you guys that I can exceed my brother one day!

p. 131

The King and knight switched...!?

When the time stops, that guy runs forward…!! (Pic: Fuji) Because of the clever sheme of Niou and Atobe switching, Noah's calculations went amiss. Because Fuji sharpened his senses, in the end he could catch hold of the ultra high speed serve.

Just one match

(Pic: Kintarou) Because Dorgias looked forward to playing with his younger brother again, he got driven into a corner by Kintarou…

To throw away victory for the sake of a life

(Pic: Dorgias and the bird) Because he's holding things that are more important than victory, Dorgias forfeits to save the injured bird.

Kintarou who is facing the world finally takes off!!

Osamu: Kintarou, you did well! I'l give you a Jumbo kokeshi, come here!

Mukahi: That Atobe guy, his strategies and the power of his serve have evolved! I'm not going to lose either! Hiyoshi: Dammnit! For the sake of gekokujou, I too will master the art of substitution…! Mukahi: Don't focus on that!

Koishikawa: Because the members of Shitenhouji play such a big role in the world, I think I can be proud as a vice-captain.

Matsudaira: That child, he plays wonderful tennis, as if he was a sunflower~

Liliadent: A battle is won by him who is firmly resolved to win it.

p. 135

U17Wcup Group league B Block 3rd round Team Bai yielded to the wall of the No.2

The gap in power was shown after 3 consecutive defeats, which definitely left scars!

Having been defeated by Australia, the Swiss' true intention was to preserve their capabilities. By using their veteran aces they defeated Japan, but because of Akutsu's stubborness their morale was raised.

Nitouryuu and Shukuchihou!!

(Pic: Ohmagari and Kite) The movement of Ohmagari who can appear in unexpected places and Kite's shukuchihiou wowed the crowd! However, their weak points were seen through…

When power and power meet….There's an explosion!

(Pic: Everyone Bulking up) Duke who was paired with Ginshowed his true worth in the match, but were no match to the Swiss' power pair.

Messages to team Bai!

Hirakoba: Eishirou is our Higa chuu's representative! Whoo! Tanishi: He can't only do multi-directional shukuchihou, but also nitouryuu? I really want him to teach me later. Hirakoba: I think that will be a bit too difficult for you!

Audience member: When that thing flew into the audience, I was saved by some members of the Japanese team! I'm really grateful!

Aoi: That Nitouryuu guy, he looks really popular…!

Ishida: I saw brother's power! Don't get outdone with the high schoolers on your side!

Banji: Akutsu-kun, I will watch over it that you will flourish in the world after this. (TL note: He will ensure that Akutsu makes it in the pro world)

p. 136

Retribution tennis

(Pic: Foot) Akutsu ran while his feet were dyed in blood. This is how he atones for making fun of tennis.

(Pic: Akutsu covered in blood) Akutsu's tenacity is incredible, and at last the pro player gives him a break.

This is the end!!

(Pic: Akutsu collapsing) When he finally reached his limits and burned out, he regenerated as a true tennis player.

He awakened his 8th sense!!

(Pic: Akutsu multiplying) Things like fears and doubts, before overcoming all those things in his subconcsciousness, he finally reached this mental state. He yields to the instinct of his body, and deals with multiple balls in an instant. (TL note: what a first sentence)

Muromachi: That Akutsu-san went so far for the sake of the team… Sengoku: I wonder if Akutsu can face his own feelings. After this, I'll treat you to a Mont Blanc!

Konjiki: Gin-san's reverse Hadoukyuu made me shiver~ Hitouji: Hey are you cheating on me!

Dan: The vision of senpai standing up against the pro was super cool…! Akutsu is my goal after all! I'll do my best just to get closer to senpai! Ah! Echizen-kun said he wanted to play me as well!

Sanada: Transform failure into success

[shervonfakhimi]

The Coronavirus 2020 NBA Draft Prospect Binge Report

Remember when people looked forward to 2020 with actual optimism? That was fun while it lasted. Instead of joy and relief, this year has brought us tragedy after tragedy and now utter chaos. That is not typically how one would start an article about NBA Draft prospects, but I have managed to accomplish absolutely nothing but watch replays of college basketball games of NBA Draft prospects amidst this COVID-19 pandemic. There are much more serious things going on right now, but maybe you could use a distraction. So here goes nothing! Here are some takeaways from prospects I’ve watched during the season and now after the season got shut down.

Lottery:

Anthony Edwards SG Georgia: I don’t know if blame needs to be put on Edwards, the construction of his Georgia team or Tom Crean, but Edwards tended to float through games and settle for tough shots he shouldn’t need to rely upon given his athleticism and superhero frame for a college freshman. And then, all of a sudden, you’ll see him flip the switch and embark on ballistic streaks like this where he explodes and decides not to miss. He’s an elite shotmaker, whether it is contested or on the move or both. It felt like he had too much of a green light to shoot these and Edwards relied on these shots a bit too much, and that put a damper on his efficiency. He did get to the free-throw line 5.3 times per game, but with his ability to drive, that probably could improve as well. A nearly identical assist/turnover ratio needs improvement as well. However, while I did not see a frequent number of passes manipulating scrambling defenses, I did see Edwards make the correct pass at times when swarmed by help defense, both in transition and in the halfcourt. When engaged, Edwards can be a staunch defender as well, but that wasn’t always the case. Again, it didn’t help playing on a young team that was often, at best, a disorganized mess (seriously, that’s me being nice). But, ideally, you’d like to see a player of Edwards’ caliber carry his team to more wins than what Georgia accumulated this season. But the talent is overwhelming and *clearly* there. He should be the number one pick (at least among the crop of college basketball prospects), but both he and the team that drafts him has work to do to get the most out of that talent.

Isaac Okoro SF Auburn: Isaac Okoro just might be the best defensive player in the draft, certainly on the wing. I watched Mason Jones give Auburn fits en route to a 40 point performance, but when Bruce Pearl (finally) placed Okoro to take him out, he obliged as if he was Jason Bourne on the loose, shutting Jones down and allowing Auburn to escape Bud Walton Arena with a win. He’s big, long, tough, and athletic to stay in front of just about anybody. Offensively, he’s more of a work-in-progress but is a good slasher who can pass or finish off a straight-line drive and can play a little bit of pick and roll. He’s got to improve as a shooter (29% from the three-point line, 67% from the free-throw line) and as a ballhandler, but will be able to defend in the NBA from day one. At the very least, he’s Josh Okogie of the Minnesota Timberwolves. The floor for him as a player is very high because of his defense. If his offensive game improves, however, he can be much more though.

Tyrese Maxey PG/SG Kentucky: A more in-depth look at the Kentucky guard is coming soon. Spoiler alert: I like him. A LOT.

Onyeka Okongwu C USC: A deeper dive into the Trojan big man will arrive shortly.

Obi Toppin SF/PF Dayton: An in-depth look at Mr. Toppin is dropping soon.

Devin Vassell SF Florida State: A deeper dive on the Florida State wing will drop shortly.

Cole Anthony PG North Carolina: If Anthony Edwards played in a mess, then I don’t know what the hell you’re supposed to describe what this season’s North Carolina team was. Anthony got hurt, his team completely fell apart without him and had little to zero help on his team outside of Garrison Brooks. So yeah, not great by any means! As a result, he’d often dribble into waves of defenders and/or hoist up forced shots which took a sledgehammer to his efficiency. He showed a little bit of a post and midrange game, did his best to control the tempo of the game and run pick and roll when he actually had room to do so, but that was not the norm. He should be better with NBA caliber teammates and spacing surrounding him next season. He should still go in the mid-to-late lottery, but this wasn’t the season many had hoped to get from him this season.

1st Round:

Saddiq Bey SF Villanova: You want a 3-and-D guy? Enter Saddiq Bey. Bey shot 41.8% from three during his two years at Villanova. Bey can hit them on the move as well as standing still, off the dribble or catch-and-shoot. He can defend multiple positions, staying in front of quicker guards or guys his size as well. I wouldn’t recommend a steady diet of Bey putting on the ball on the deck as a primary option, but he can definitely go create his own shot as well, as he did here against Georgetown, piling up 33 points in the process. Bey won’t overwhelm with his athleticism, but he can get the job done well enough to be a threat. Villanova’s a program that routinely churns out quality NBA players, and I wouldn’t expect anything less when it comes to Saddiq Bey.

Kira Lewis Jr. PG Alabama: Kira Lewis Jr. could be one of the better values out of the guard spot this season. He’s arguably the fastest player in the draft, and likely has that distinction amongst guards. He’d use that to his advantage to get to the rim, and when defenders try to cut him off or go under screens he’s a good enough shooter to make defenses pay. It felt like his first instinct was to find open teammates before going for his own. Lewis would flash finesse finishes in the paint, another nifty counter to balance his speed, but felt like he’d more often struggle to finish those plays than not. He needs to improve on that and his turnovers, but if he can, there is a lot to work with here. As an 18-year-old sophomore, Lewis is young for his age too and already has two years of experience under his belt. He needs to develop though and go to a place with a track record of developing young talent. If that’s the case, he can be a big-time steal. I’m a fan.

Jaden McDaniels SF/PF Washington: Perhaps no player in this draft is more perplexing, enigmatic, or boom-bust than McDaniels. There are days like his game against UCLA where once he is dialed in, he’s a scoring menace and guards 1-5 defensively. There are other days where you don’t even notice he’s on the floor. He still is raw and needs some fine-tuning to his game, but the flashes of brilliance are so tantalizing. He has the tools to become the versatile positionless wing to wreak havoc across the floor, but he’s going to need to go to a spot who can get the most out of him. The situation is key in the NBA, and there might not be a player more dependent upon it than McDaniels. If he gets to the right spot, he could be the steal of the draft.

Isaiah Stewart C Washington: While there are some concerns about Jaden McDaniels’ motor, there shouldn’t be much regarding his teammate, Isaiah Stewart. Stewart came to play all season long, routinely gobbling up rebounds and bending the rim. He racked up a double-double in nearly half of his games (14 out of 32) during his freshman season in Seattle. Stewart is a brute force at 6’9” 250 pounds yet runs like a gazelle in transition nearly every chance he gets to do so. What I also like about Stewart is he has very good touch around the rim and can go to the post and finish in case of an emergency. He fits the mold of the Clint Capela-archetype of today’s bigs. Sitting in the middle of Washington’s 2-3 zone didn’t allow for much to see how Stewart defends on the perimeter, but more and more NBA teams have elected to trot out zone defenses in stretches anyway in an attempt to throw off their opponent by giving them a different puzzle to solve. There is some question as to how much these types of bigs can actually produce in playoff series, but Stewart has skill in his own right to not be solely dependent on others throwing lobs to him like Clint Capela or Jarrett Allen, who both were played off the floor for stretches in the postseason last year. He’ll help whoever drafts him.

Nico Mannion PG Arizona: I was a little disappointed watching Mannion. He’s a floor general who looks to pass and make his teammates better, things I value out of my point guards for sure but was expecting a little more given the hype before the season, and he didn’t seem to live up to it. To be fair, he did finish the season well, but he was inconsistent. He also did not have an open court to play under in the halfcourt (a Sean Miller special) and thrived in that type of environment, mostly in transition. He’s a fantastic passer who looks to throw the ball up the floor in transition and is unafraid to let it fly before the defense is set. Creating his own shot proved to be too daunting a task at times, however, and that led to both he and Arizona’s inconsistency (again, coaching didn’t do him many favors though). Mannion is and can be a good player in the league, but I’m not sure we’ll see the star he was hyped to be before heading to Tuscon.

Cassius Winston PG Michigan State: More on the Spartan floor general will come soon.

Patrick Williams SF/PF Florida State: A deeper dive on the other wing from Florida State will arrive soon.

Tre Jones PG Duke: The problem with Tre Jones during his freshman year at Durham was his shooting ability. He shot 26.2% from deep that year, but things changed fairly drastically this go-around. He bumped his three-point percentage up to 36.1% while holding his water from the free-throw line. It’s easy to compare him to his brother Tyus, but it also holds weight with Tre’s ability to defend. If his shooting holds true, I don’t see how he couldn’t produce and follow the same trajectory as his brother in the NBA.

Jahm’ius Ramsey SG Texas Tech: Youth is the rage when it comes to the NBA draft, and Ramsey has a lot of it, as he won’t turn 19 until June. When it comes to youth, Ramsey showed it for stretches at Texas Tech, sometimes losing track of his man defensively or driving with reckless abandon into traffic (an unfinished handle to blame for some of that). Working in Ramsey’s favor, however, is the fact he hit 60 of 141 threes, not all of the catch-and-shoot variety, with some tough contested looks like this one sprinkled in between. However, I’m not sure his shot is as potent as his three-point percentage suggests, as his line-drive release and free-throw percentage (64.1%) strays from his percentage from deep, but shooting well from deep surely can’t hurt Ramsey’s chances. I wouldn’t count on Ramsey becoming a plus creator with the ball in his hands as his handle needs more polish to tap more into that area of his game, but he has given glimpses he can do so in spurts. Maybe Ramsey could step into a rotation with his effort level, but his best-case situation would be going to a team touted for its development prowess in the first round to give some reps and experience before throwing him to the NBA fire.

Sleepers:

Immanuel Quickley SG Kentucky: More on the Kentucky guard will arrive shortly.

Mason Jones SG/SF Arkansas: More about the Arkansas guard will come soon.

Desmond Bane PG/SG TCU: Desmond Bane should be getting more love than he’s getting. He can reliably play both guard spots with his ability to cut and move without the ball and space the floor (he’s a career 43% shooter from distance from well over 500 attempts throughout his four seasons at TCU) and create offense for himself or for others with the ball in his hands. Not only does he have the game to toggle between either guard spot, but at 6’6” 215 pounds, he possesses the size to switch across the floor and make difficult for anybody he’s guarding. He isn’t quite the conductor that fellow senior draft-eligible prospect Cassius Winston is, but the difference between the two is negligible. Bane could end up being an absolute steal if he were to fall in the second round, which, quite frankly, shouldn’t happen.

Elijah Hughes SF Syracuse: For those eager to read more on the Syracuse wing, it will drop shortly.

Isaiah Joe SG Arkansas: Isaiah Joe is a bit of an enigma. A knee injury really bothered him over the second half of the season and the construction of his team forced him to almost exclusively shoot threes, hurting his percentage from the field (36.7%). His form is still splendid, however, and the release is quick enough to get shots off when others can’t. He can get his own shot off the bounce with a step-back and is a nice passer in space, but struggled to finish through contact. He did embrace on the defensive side, however, routinely stepping up to take charges. I think it would do Joe good to come back and get stronger, but his shooting should keep him in the NBA for a long time in a time where everyone is looking for guys who can shoot from beyond the three-point line.

Payton Pritchard PG/SG Oregon: Pritchard reminds me a lot of Fred Vanvleet. He’s tough, tenacious, will get after it defensively, and will not go down without a fight. Both possess handles good enough to get them where they want to go along with their strength to bruise through defenders. Get a big man on a switch and Pritchard can handle them no problem and bury shots from distance. Teams need reliable guards off the bench, and Pritchard has proven he can be that for whoever drafts him, whether through his stellar play in the Pac-12 tournament last season or stepping his game up again this season, averaging over 20 points a night with 46.8/41.5/82.1 shooting splits. He won’t go high, but I feel fairly certain he’s going to stick in the NBA for a long time. 

Nick Richards C Kentucky: John Calipari doesn’t do a whole lot of three-and-dones, but the payoff for Richards finally came through this season. Even at the beginning of the year against Michigan State and Evansville, he sort of got pushed around, but that changed during the course of the season. He’s athletic, can move up and down the floor, is a lob threat, can operate out of the post, and showed good verticality in the paint defensively. He has glue for hands, catching nearly every pass that came to his direction, even in tight corridors. As the center position continues to be an area where value is found, Richards can be a value for teams in the second round. 

Jalen Smith C Maryland and Xavier Tillman C Michigan State: I’m lumping these two together because both Smith and Tillman seem like good archetypes for the modern big man. Defend the rim, switch on the perimeter, roll to the rim, hit the occasional three (Smith shot 36.8% on 2.8 attempts this season), and rebound. Smith likes to slip screens and is a threat to score both rolling to the rim or hit catch-and-shoot threes. Smith showed flashes of making the right reads on the move as well when rolling to the rim but would force passes that weren’t there, in part leading to his paltry near 0.5 assist/turnover ratio, but that can improve. Tillman can make the same passes when rolling to the rim as well and is a solid, but not as explosive compared to Smith, finisher in his own right. While he isn’t quite the shooter Smith is, his 3 assists per game are more than quadruple Smith’s on about the same number of turnovers. For a team that needs help in its frontcourt defensively, Smith or Tillman would make for a more than fine selection in the late first or early second round.

Markus Howard PG Marquette: I watched his game against USC and was quickly reminded: this guy can get buckets. Now, I’m not sure what else he does, but he can score and is one of the better shooters in the draft. If you need a Quinn Cook on your bench who can come in and flip a game or two with three quick threes, then this is the guy for you late in the draft.

Ashton Hagans PG Kentucky: Hagans is the polar opposite of what Howard is. He’s not as renowned a shooter, but he is a hound defensively and is a physical finisher at the rim. He’s quick and really fast with the ball in his hands and knows how to run a team. The league is falling out of favor for guys who aren’t shooters, but his defense and savvy should be enough to, at the very least, get Hagans on an NBA bench somewhere, especially if there are teams out there who believe they can develop that jumper.

Kaleb Wesson C Ohio State & Vernon Carey Jr. C Duke: Wesson and Carey are the archetype centers that are falling out of favor in the NBA. While they have defensive limitations on the perimeter, both Wesson and Carey are skilled passers who can match both low-post brute force with three-point prowess (Wesson shot 38% on threes during his career at Ohio State. Carey hit the same percentage, albeit on a much smaller sample size of just 21 threes). Unfortunately, their time of conception was off a few years in terms of how the NBA values big men like them, diminishing their draft stock, but both have a shot of sticking in a rotation somewhere with their abilities to generate offense.

Skylar Mays PG/SG LSU: If you value versatility at your guard spot, Skylar Mays can be a very nice value in the draft. He boosted his efficiency up big time this year, shooting a career-high 49.1% from the field and 39.4% from three, allowing him to switch up and shift roles depending on what his team needed. He can affect the game and create offense both with and without the ball in his hands at the start of possessions. I could see him stick in the NBA for a long time.

Yves Pons SF/PF Tennessee: Pons is a monster athlete. He looks like a tight end out there. The man can actually fly. Seriously. Granted, that is against air, but that still doesn’t seem normal at all. He can get in a stance and defend guards and use his 6’6” 215-pound frame and athleticism to hang against bigger players. He even shot about 35% from three this season. It didn’t feel like Tennessee tapped into his athleticism enough, but an NBA team would be smart to and give him a chance to be a role player off the bench in the mold of a Derrick Jones Jr.

Cassius Stanley SF Duke: I’ll be honest, I didn’t think much of Stanley as an NBA prospect outside of his insane hops and wasn’t sure I’d sway off of that line of thinking. I was wrong. Going back to the hops though, the man literally has pogo-sticks for legs to fly across the hardwood, and no I’m not kidding. Get him running on the wing in transition and odds are he’ll bring the house down. Also, how’s this for an inbounds play? But, while Stanley is very much still a raw prospect, there is more than meets the eye than just aerial acrobatics. I was surprised to see he ended the season shooting 36% from deep and it bore out on the tape as he made defenses pay *enough* for making him beat them from distance. He’d use his freaky athleticism to slash to the rim and get to the free-throw line (3.6 free throw attempts per game). He’d benefit from a tighter handle and could use a better feel for the game (he nearly doubled his assist numbers with turnovers), but think he showed he *can be* more than just a dunker. He’s more than worth the shot in the second round.

Jordan Nwora SF Louisville: I wish Nwora was a little more consistent. I also wish he had more avenues towards production other than scoring. Nwora came on the scene last season with his scoring prowess and has coupled that with efficiency from deep (he shot 39% on over 450 threes during his three seasons at Louisville). Nwora’s defense and playmaking do not inspire a ton of confidence, but Nwora can serve as an instant offense energizer off the bench.

Aamir Simms PF/C Clemson: Simms’ name has not entered many NBA Draft discussions that I have heard/read, but that seems like a mistake to me. With requisite size (6’8” 240 pounds) and ample athleticism, Simms’ build suggests he is capable of handling the pounding of an NBA big man. His game does so as well. Passing is a strong suit of his game, as Simms can deliver nifty passes from all types of angles and areas along the floor. He can either finish or playmake a little in the dribble hand-off game and can also elevate in the open floor in the pick-and-roll. He’s a career 35% three-point shooter and owns essentially a neutral assist/turnover ratio (better than many other bigs in this class). He isn’t the biggest brute out there but uses every ounce of his frame to take the punishment from his opponent and hold his ground. Is Simms a star? Not exactly, but I could see him be a positive contributor off the bench and possibly work his way into being a starter a la Maxi Kleber has done with the Dallas Mavericks. Simms should not be ignored.

Kristian Doolittle SF Oklahoma: Kristian Doolittle deserves some more love, in my opinion. He’s 6’7”, 232 pounds, ideal size for the modern wing, with the versatility to guard multiple positions. Doolittle shot 37% from three during his four seasons at Norman, albeit on only 131 attempts, but still (he was solid from the free-throw line too, hitting at least 77.5% of his free-throws in three of four seasons). I see quite a bit of Dorian Finney-Smith, who has turned into quite the role player for the Dallas Mavericks, in Doolittle’s game. I could easily see Doolittle becoming a role player like Finney-Smith and becoming a very nice steal for whoever gives him a sh

[leonmckennedy]

so! making headway on this tiny little fic i’ve been working on! thanks once again to @likeappletrees for suggesting [this prompt] for me to work on! sorry it took so long, this week was just waaaaay longer than expected. but hey, i got some parts done ahead of time so the real meat of this will be coming i promise

summary: prompto is cute and ignis is like *gay sweating*

parts: [one] two (here!) [three]

one week and about a hundred stolen glances later, ignis realizes that his problem is about ten times worse than he anticipated.

there’s a part of him that wishes they could avoid battle, not because of the obvious risks. getting hurt, losing time, wasting resources– its all a moot point. avoiding random battles mean ignis can avoid being hopelessly distracted, eyeing the way prompto moves on the opposite side of the field. because he only improves with each subsequent fight; he moves quicker, dodges better, kicks harder, shoots swifter. supplementary lessons from gladio nonwithstanding, prompto was good. he’s been hardly trained and doesn’t have the same finesse that a hardened warrior, one who’s as familiar with a battlefield as the back of their hand would, but he moves with a sort of grace that ignis is reluctant to say he’s attracted to.

because that’s what this is.

attraction.

he’s spent a few nights since their last encounter with the empire considering what it would be like to hold prompto. all that reckless energy, those lithe movements – working against him.

ignis has been trying very, very hard not to think about it. his job, first and foremost, is to focus on keeping the group of them alive and functioning. that’s all. it’s kind of hard to not think about it when they spend eighty percent of their day fighting and the rest of it sharing a tent that’s rather small for four grown adults.

so he just tries his best.

“hey iggy!”

ignis, currently preparing breakfast for his companions, startles at the sound. speaking of the devil…

“morning, prompto,” ignis says, hazarding a glance away from his pan to look at the man. prompto seems to have done his morning routine already; he’s fully dressed, has his hair perfectly styled, and looks much more excited to be awake than he usually is. prompto’s no grump like a certain prince, but he seems to take time after waking before he’s operating at his best.

prompto is smiling all wide, though. and against the early morning light ignis can see every little freckle dusted against the man’s cheeks and shoulders. he averts his eyes immediately, looking back at his stove and hoping he didn’t look strange.

prompto, however, walks to the other side of ignis’ little table and leans against it. certainly makes it much harder not to look at him, then.

“remember what gladio said last night? about how he wanted to "whip” noct into shape today?“

ignis remembers that particular exchange. gladio had been a little peeved about noctis’ performance in their last battle, resulting in an argument between the two that ended with noctis throwing his hands in the air and yelling "okay! whatever! we can start tomorrow!” gladio was still in the tent now, undoubtedly trying to rouse the lazy prince from his beauty sleep so they can make good on their early morning session. ignis can imagine it now, smiling a bit at the image.

“yes? and what about it?”

“welllllll i was thinking…” prompto drags one of his fingers against the tabletop, eyes suddenly darting away. “since they’re gonna be gone for a little while, i was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me out today?”

“with….?”

“okay, so there’s some creatures i wanna take some shots of! i was gonna ask noct if he wanted to tag along, but since gladio’s got him i was hoping you’d come with me instead?” prompto looks up at ignis, his expression hopeful. “you wouldn’t have to do anything! just… be my backup?”

ignis raises an eyebrow, frowning. “backup?”

“just in case!”

“what exactly are we taking pictures of?”

prompto grins then, winking at him. “it’s a surprise! it’s not bad though, i swear! avoiding danger is my middle name, after all.”

to be frank, ignis cannot recall anything prompto just said, because the blond’s coy little wink has made it much harder for him to focus. a few moments pass and he realizes that prompto nervously fidgeting across from him, patiently awaiting an answer. ignis should probably be considering all the pros and cons of this little adventure, because if it’s so dangerous that prompto wouldn’t venture out without help then maybe they should reschedule for a time they could all go together. but if the desire was great enough, prompto could wander off on his own anyway, and the thought of the man getting hurt while attempting some stupid stunt had ignis nodding his head in the affirmative.

he’ll go. it’ll be fine.

“whoo!! thanks, ignis.” prompto smiles a tiny smile and reaches forward to pat ignis’ arm. “looking forward to it.”

“indeed.”

a loud groan suddenly cuts through the air, and the both of them turn around in time to witness noctis stumbling out of the tent, rubbing at his face. gladio is right behind him, arm thrown heavily around the shorter man’s shoulders. gladio is smirking while noctis, eyes barely open, is sporting his usual “i’m five years old and i’m annoyed” pout. ignis’ mind helpfully supplies a handful of ideas as to what gladio could’ve done to annoy noctis so early. besides of simply waking him up, of course.

“hey. i finally woke up sleeping beauty.”

“ha-ha,” noctis shrugs gladio’s arm off with more force than is probably necessary but, in typical fashion, it is not enough force to make gladio budge more than an inch. the annoyance is clear on his face. “good morning ignis and prompto, my only true friends. gladio can eat shit.”

gladio shoves noctis’ shoulder, causing the man to stumble forward. “what, you sayin’ you wanna skip breakfast and go right to the part where i kick your ass?”

“ignis, gladio is picking on me.”

“enough, you two.” ignis sighs, turning back to his stove to continue… whatever it was he was doing. he’s just glad he hasn’t burned anything in his distracted state.

“yeah,” prompto snickers. “or he’ll put you both in the time out corner.”

noctis plops himself heavily into his chair, leaning back and covering his face with his arm. to block out the sun, probably. they all knew if noctis had his way the sun would spontaneously set right at that moment so he could gladly go back to sleep. “whatever. as long as we’re in separate corners.”

“same corner or bust. right, ignis?”

ignis looks over at prompto, who is still smiling. the sight is still ridiculously, relentlessly attractive.

he forgoes a response by way of pointedly preparing plates for the finished food. prompto seems to get the hint and proceeds to help him, gathering noct and gladio’s plates and handing them off. once that’s all done, and they’re all relatively awake and eating, ignis inhales deeply and takes stock of the situation.

breakfast? done. procuring supplies? to be done when they all return. going out for the day with prompto, alone? well.

he’s going to try his best.

[feelsgood-anon]

Eros - Bar AU Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE IS A MYSTIC MESSENGER AU.  IT IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE AMERICAN SITCOM CHEERS, A SHOW CENTERED AROUND A BOSTON BAR CALLED CHEERS AND IT’S REGULARS.  EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TRIED TO KEEP AS MUCH OF CANON PERSONALITIES WITH ALL THE MYSTIC MESSENGER CHARACTERS JUST REMEMBER THAT IT IS AN AU AND A FEW THINGS MAY BE DIFFERENT THAN IN GAME OR YOUR HEADCANONS. THIS HAS BEEN FUN TO PLAN AND I HOPE YOU FIND A BIT OF JOY READING IT!  

PG13+ FOR SWEARIN’ AND BOOZIN’.

CH.1 PT.1 | CH. 1 PT. 2 | CH. 2 | CH. 3 | CH. 4 | CH. 5 |  Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10

Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no one So I'll wait for you..... and I'll burn Will i ever see your sweet return Oh will I ever learn Oh lover, you should've come over 'cause it's not too late

Oh Lover You Should Have Come Over - Jeff Buckley

“Not there, Cannon. It’s far too close to the stage. You’ll get in the way if you take drink orders. Everyone must be able to see clearly from wherever they sit.” Sugar had come in thirty minutes before the bar opened to make sure the place was to his liking for the show that night. Saturday had rolled around and he had yet to reveal who was playing but this didn’t phase the man as he barked orders to everyone.

Zen had conveniently made himself sparse to the point of being late to work as he didn’t want to deal with whatever Sugar had been planning. The idea that things were being done behind his back - or at least, that’s how he saw it - didn’t make him all that happy. He didn’t even know who was invited to play and he made a point to not ask out of sheer pettiness. Tonight the bar wasn’t under his care and he decided to show up whenever he felt like it.

This didn’t matter to Sugar one bit. In fact, he was happy that Zen wasn’t in the way of setting things up. He was also happy that things wouldn’t stir up as Sunny had volunteered to help in whatever way she could which would definitely rub the bartender the wrong way.

“This is quite the menu, Sugar! You have a lot of fancy drinks on here,” Sunny chattered as she studied it a bit more, “You really went all out for this! I’m impressed!”

Sugar sauntered over towards her with an amused smile, “The type of patrons that will come with this act will expect a bit more finesse. This place has never been a shabby tavern and it’s time people remember that it’s just as classy as that silly bar down the street. They may have mundane entertainment but we bring superb service along with top-notch acts.”

“I’m not wearing that stupid outfit, Sugar. I’m no butler, and I’m definitely not someone’s slave.” Cannon hissed as he finished moving around furniture.

“Everything looks great, though! I’m excited for tonight. We’ll have to work extra hard to keep up with the tables!” Sunny said cheerfully towards the other waiter, “And perhaps you should smile a bit more!”

“No.” Cannon responded flatly, “I’m not pretending to be someone I’m not. If they want to come here, they have to learn how to deal with how I am.”

“Perhaps you should think about being a bit more about customer service, Cannon. You may get better tips if you were friendlier.” Sugar walked behind the bar to start setting up more of the fancy glasses, “People appreciate a stunning smile. Take Sunny, for example. Customers feel welcomed and at ease when she approaches them.”

“I get all my drink orders right and get it to them quickly. My tips are just fine.” Cannon growled, “She still messes up and gets sympathy tips for being cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” Sunny beamed proudly, “You two are just giving me so many compliments! I appreciate it. I’ve been messing up a lot lately and I’ve been pretty down about it. Not just with drink orders. I still feel really bad about what happened with Zen.”

Sugar waved his hand, “Don’t worry about him. He’s just gloomy because someone finally challenged his ego.”

“No...I mean, I did something really bad.” Sunny squirmed a bit, “You see, I kind of-”

“What happened in the past should stay in the past. No use in dwelling on it.” Sugar cut her off. He wasn’t too interested in what type of argument they had as he was well aware what type of things would have been brought up to anger Zen so much, “I just hope that in the future you will take my warnings with more consideration. I have known him far too long to not know how he will react to certain things.”

She looked down at the menu in her hand as her fingers fiddled with the edges, “I suppose I should. But it still doesn’t change the fact that I think I can help him as well. I’ll take your words a bit more seriously, I just have to be a bit more careful how I approach him.”

Cannon rolled his eyes, “Or you could just drop the savior routine and listen when we say to back off. You’ve seen for yourself how quickly he can shift from being the most thoughtful person to the biggest asshole.”

“But I can change that! I know I can!’ She declared, “I just need a bit more time!”

“Do as you wish, but there will be a point where we will have to back away and let you suffer the consequences on your own. I have no qualms with defending you but if you insist on badgering him there is only so much I can do to stop him from overreacting. Like I said before, he has the right to his own privacy and if that is continuously invaded I will have to side with him eventually.” Sugar sipped from his wine, “There is a time and a place to help, but there is also a time and a place to just stop.”

Sunny let out a huff, “Yeah, I get that now. But it doesn’t mean i’m going to just drop it. He obviously needs someone to talk to about things or else he wouldn’t be in the situation he’s in!”

“Just let it go,” Cannon sighed, “He’s been relatively fine save a few isolated incidents but when you got here that all went down the shoot so maybe you should back off.”

“Hey! It’s not me that caused it! I saw the articles he keeps stashed away! I know he’s upset about-”

“Silence, Sunny. I’m going to have to stop you there. I understand that you want to help but I won’t stand by while you air out his issues to whomever listens. His privacy, respect it.” Sugar reprimanded a bit harsher than normal.

Her nostrils flared as he had attempted to shut her down, “How dare you! I am no servant of yours to quiet whenever you don’t like what I have to say! I’m going to the bathroom, you guys can finish this up by yourselves!”

Cannon scratched the side of his head as she stormed off, “You know, I got used to Zen being dramatic but I don’t know if I can handle the both of them in one place.”

Red approached them as he had finished setting up the stage, “She’s not so bad. A fiery little thing, though. Hey Sugar, I finished up the lighting and connecting the sound system. Anything else yah need?”

Sugar shook his head without looking at the work Red had done. It wasn’t his expertise and it surely wasn’t his place to question things he knew little about, “As long as you are sure they will work you can go about your opening duties. You as well, Cannon. Thank you both for being diligent.”

The twins nodded and dispersed to their other work letting Sugar sit at the bar alone in his thoughts. From an outside perspective the man had many things to worry about: Zen having been even more irritable than normal after his second argument with Sunny, Zen being defensive that this performance was set up behind his back, the inevitable colorful conversation Zen would have with him once he found out who was performing.

Zen. The root of what Sugar should be nervous about.

But as he sat there with the two employees running around him to get Eros ready for the night, not a single care in the world was passing through his mind. The only thing he cared about was this night going smoothly, and the potential revenue that could come from it all.

Jingle~

Sugar’s attention was directed towards Zen walking in without a word. “Now darling, are we still throwing a tantrum?”

“Shut it, Sugar. I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah...I guess we are. Please, don’t let me interrupt your fit.”

Zen walked passed him towards his office, “Whatever. I just have some work to do.”

“Ah, which reminds me. I need to speak to you about tonight’s performers. You might want to know-”

“Look, you put this together so leave me out of it. If you have an issue then deal with it yourself. It’s obvious that I, even as the owner, had no say in it so I refuse to help.”

Sugar rolled his eyes, “Of course there are no issues, I do things thoroughly.”

“Then I don’t want to hear it, got it? Leave me alone. I’ll be out to help Red when it gets busy.” Zen stomped off to the room, leaving the door slightly open to hear anything going on.

Cannon came back around to the bar top and started wiping it down, “Well, at least he won’t be stealing the attention tonight. Hopefully it won’t be too much work for my brother and Zen can stay holed up in his office all night.”

“I sincerely doubt he will be quiet all evening, considering…” Sugar mused, “I will take care of him when the time comes. Isn’t it almost time to open the doors? Let’s get this evening started.”

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

The night was going well as many people had come in with the announcement of the performance. Everyone was busy, even Sunny had completely forgotten that she had gotten mad at Sugar in the first place, “Wow, whoever you invited to play must be pretty well known! This place is busy!”

“Of course they are well known, I told everyone I would only accept the best. Even Clicks couldn’t disagree with my choice.” He elbowed his friend who had arrived a bit earlier. Clicks nodded, “Ah yes, an excellent choice in terms of music. In terms of what may happen-”

“Is my problem and I will deal with it accordingly.” Sugar interrupted him, “Let’s all have a good time. Even if you are working, Sunny, I hope you enjoy the music.”

Her smile widened as her eyes sparkled brightly, “If you enjoy it, the music must be fantastic! You seem the type to have very refined tastes.”

Sugar’s face was plastered with a smug smile, “Naturally. I have no reason to subject myself to mediocre content when I can afford excellence.”

Clicks chuckled as he leaned towards Sunny to whisper, “He can be a bit stuck up, don’t you think?”

Sunny blushed as she didn’t know if she should actually answer that question or if it was only a joke. “W-well...I wouldn’t call it that, he’s just proud of what he has is all. Say, Sugar. Who is performing anyway? You never told us.”

He pointed towards the stage as a few people began to set up instruments, “You know them, just wait.”

The lights dimmed and the patrons hushed, knowing the show was about to start. The piano started to play lightly and the spotlight turned onto the person that began to sing.

Sunny looked towards the beautiful music playing and her jaw dropped as she saw the person at the microphone. “Is that…” Her head turned to address Sugar but she caught a glance at Zen who had emerged from his office, leaning against the doorframe of his office as he stared in disbelief at the stage.

He had been sitting at his desk completely disinterested in whatever was going on out in the bar but the moment he heard the song his legs twitched and as soon as he heard the familiar voice his body jolted from his seat. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in two years and it still caused his chest to tighten. It can’t be...it can’t be her…

Zen swung the door open and his heart seemed to stop when his gaze landed on the woman under the lights.  The long flowing red hair that used to fan across his chest when she would lay with him on the rooftops of his apartment building. The deep green eyes that reflected brightly in every picture he would take of her. The perfect hourglass shape that he kept his hands on whenever humanly possible, or kept any clinging material off of. Those pouty lips that he loved to kiss; the same mouth that must have trembled while she had been crying over the phone telling him they were over.

She was just as he remembered.

But the music turned his stomach. Every breath he took was forced - as if he had forgotten how to do the most natural of bodily functions. Of all songs for her to open with, it had to be the one that sent him back to the first night he had met her. He had just finished an opening night of his newest role and went for a few drinks with the cast members. They managed to find a lounge near the theater that wasn’t terribly crowded on a Saturday night and settled in a booth near the stage.

A band had been playing which didn’t bother the actors much but Zen had taken a slight interest in the beautiful woman that approached the microphone. It wasn’t her stunning looks that grabbed his attention as much as the cute candid smiles she gave the band members as they started to play. The moment she began to sing, though, everything around him became a blur. He was enthralled by the smooth sultry tone that poured from her form and his body leaned forward as if he were being pulled towards her. Never once had he felt he was truly in love with anyone but as his pulse pounded in his throat he knew.

This was love.

That same magnetic feeling was what he felt that night in Eros as she swayed to the beat the same way she did on that fateful night. His heart still raced but now it was mixed with the overwhelming weight on his shoulders of how things turned out. No longer did the music bring him flutters, only reinforced the vice that was secured around his insides from every regret he had.

Sunny noticed the same pain in his eyes as he saw the afternoon after his vacation though she also noticed something unfamiliar. He’d never looked at any of the women that fawned over him at the bar this way. This wasn’t a man on the hunt for a one night stand - no. “He’s still in love…” She spoke softly to herself.

Clicks had noticed her staring and turned his head, frowning slightly as he leaned over to Sugar, “Are you sure this was a good idea? Look at him.”

Sugar shushed him as he watched the performance, “I haven’t heard her sing in a long time, and neither have you. I’ll deal with him later. Just enjoy it while you can.”

When the song ended Zen finally let out a breath as he had managed to hold it in during the last half. Shaking his head he looked around the bar now that he was back in reality and when he saw Sugar his gaze hardened. He made his way quickly over to the man and grabbed his suit jacket from the back, “Is this your idea of a joke, Sugar? What the hell is she doing here? More importantly, why the fuck would you do this to me? I thought we were friends but you bring Scarlet here to rub in my face? I want answers now!”

Sugar reached his arm behind to rip Zen’s hand off, “This has nothing to do with you, Zen. She happened to be in town and I know her presence would bring in plenty of customers which if you haven’t noticed,” He motioned out with his other arm, “was a good call. Of course, since you’ve been pouting in your office all night while Red has been running himself ragged you wouldn't know. How about you help him out?”

“I don’t want to be out here and you know why.” Zen growled.

“Suck it up, Zen. Be an adult and deal with it. She’s going to finish up her set and be gone. You are more than capable of getting through forty-five more minutes of her singing.”

Zen inhaled deeply and walked behind the bar, “We are having a chat in my office once the night is over.”

Sugar shrugged as he sipped at his wine, “As you wish. Also...Scarlet? Really? Your creativity is lacking when it comes to nicknames. I think she is far more deserving of something other than her hair color.”

“Shut up, Sugar.”

Zen got through the rest of the set in a disgruntled mood, but still worked orders flawlessly. He would steal glances towards the stage every now and then, careful not to engage in eye-contact with the woman singing.

After the band had finished packing up, the singer approached Sugar as Zen had wandered to the other side to service some patrons. “This place is lovely but I don’t know if I can get used to calling you Sugar.”

He smiled at her endearingly, “It’s a rather annoying nickname but when you say it I don’t mind it as much.” He stood up and gave her a tight hug, “It’s been far too long, Scarlet. It’s good to see you are doing well. Bravo on the performance. I didn’t think you could get any better but you have proven me wrong.”

“Scarlet? Is that what he decided to call me? Well, I suppose it will do.” She took his embrace willingly, “It’s good to see you too. You seem to be in good shape, but what else would I expect? What with the compliments and such you haven’t changed a bit.”

“You think he would change? He still wears the same type of suits after all this time!” Clicks chimed in, “You’re looking as beautiful as ever, my dear. It was an absolute pleasure and an honor to hear you sing.”

She let go of Sugar and walked around to hug Clicks, “And you! You old devil! It’s good to see you too.”

“Enjoying your family reunion?” Zen hissed as he finally found the courage to approach them, “It would’ve been nice to know she was coming, I would have taken the night off.”

Scarlet dropped her arms from Clicks and turned to look at Zen, offering him a smile, “Hi Zen. It’s been a while.”

He straightened up and stared at her blankly, pulling his pack of smokes to tug one out, “Hello, Scarlet. It has been a long time. You look well.” He casually lit one of the cigarettes, “Still singing, I see. That’s good. Have you been touring?”

Although she went on to explain to them all her rounds in other countries Zen wasn’t paying attention. His mind was exploding with every thought imaginable of their past. The words that came from her spiked pains through his chest. He wanted to know everything yet at the same time he wanted to kick her out of the bar. Her slight chuckles as she told little snippets of amusing events throughout her time overseas made it unbearable to stand there. I used to make her laugh that way, is all he could think. He just couldn’t handle it.

“I’m sorry, Scarlet. I can’t do this. Could you please just go?”

She fell silent at his request, “Oh, yes. I have overstayed my welcome. I apologize.”

“No need for apologies, Scarlet.” Sugar interjected, “Let’s go have dinner, shall we? There’s a lovely restaurant that opened up a few weeks ago and I have been curious to try it out.”

Zen slashed his gaze towards him, a fiery hatred piercing through the man, “Oh yeah, go ahead! Ask her out on a date! I see what you wanted to do here. Screw you, Sugar!”

“Zen, it’s not like that.” Scarlet reached over the bar to try to touch his arm, “I wanted to-”

“Don’t touch me.” Zen said softly as he backed away, “I don’t want to see your face again. Have a good night.”

Clicks let out an exasperated sigh as the bartender walked off. “He doesn’t mean it, Scarlet. He’s just upset, you know how he can get.”

“Yes, I do,” She pulled her arm back to her side, “Which is why I want to talk to him but it seems like he wants nothing to do with me.”

Sugar stood up and brushed off his jacket, “Come, we have much to talk about. Clicks, just call when you are ready to go home and I’ll send a car for you.”

Clicks nodded as he still kept an eye on Zen, “Of course. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Scarlet hugged Clicks once more and kissed him on the cheek, “Don’t be a stranger. It was good to see you.”

As soon as the two walked out of the bar Zen came back around and threw a towel towards Clicks, “Wipe that red lipstick off your face, you look ridiculous.”

***

Once Sugar and Scarlet were in the car, he spoke a bit more casually, “I’m worried. You know that.”

“Has he been drinking heavily again?” She asked aloofly, “He seemed composed tonight.”

He shifted a bit in his seat, “I’ve only encountered him completely drunk a few times these past two months but I am aware that he reserves the bulk of his reckless behavior for when I’m not around.”

“And what would you want me to do? He refuses to talk to me.”

“He still has feelings for you. There is unfinished business that he needs to put to rest so he can move on. I think once that happens he can take the proper steps towards dealing with things effectively.”

“He still has feelings for me?” She cooed as she looked out the window, “It’s been so long and he is the one that has ignored me.”

Sugar looked over towards her with concern, “Do you still have feelings for him?”

She brought her hand up to her face to bite at her thumb as she tried to formulate words to answer but sighed instead in failure. His eyes squinted at her as he tried to read her body language, “Perhaps it isn’t wise, then. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I were the reason for you to be hurt a second time.”

“It’s okay, I’ll talk to him. I just need to get him alone. He’s far too proud to show any sort of weakness in front of any of you.”

He nodded a bit and sat up straight as they reached the restaurant, “Just be careful, please. I cherish you as a friend and only want the best for you.”

“Oh Sugar, you always know the sweetest things to say.” She joked, “Are you sure you weren’t just wanting to ask me out on a date?”

Sugar chuckled as he got out of the car, walking around to open the door and offering his hand, “I don’t think I could handle such a woman as you, my dear. In any case, I always thought you two were a lovely couple. I’d never dream of stepping between that.”

She took his aide and stepped out of the car, patting his chest lightly, “You’re a good man and an even better comrade. Zen is lucky to have you on his side.”

“Let’s just hope he sees it that way as well.” Sugar mused.

******

After Zen had sent everyone home he took his time locking up. Normally he was more than happy to leave with the group but he chose to stick around the bar to collect his thoughts. It was obvious to anyone that came in proximity to him that seeing Scarlet had him shaken, especially since he ignored every woman that tried to hit on him that night.

“Shit, she’s just as amazing as she was back then…” He mumbled to himself. His back was turned to the door and when he heard the familiar jingle of the bell above the door he called out before turning, “Sorry, we’re closed.”

“I didn’t want a drink, just wanted someone to talk to.”

He froze in his place at the voice that once again coaxed every emotion from his being. Having been caught off guard he became more frazzled than he already was from his interactions with Scarlet earlier. Quickly composing himself he grabbed his glass of vodka tonic and proceeded to turn around smoothly to look at her and reiterate, “Sorry, we’re closed.”

Scarlet scoffed before walking towards him, “You can’t even entertain me for a few minutes? You owe me at that much, at least.”

Any sense of confidence the man had mustered up suddenly dissipated at her statement and instead a wounded mutt now staring down at the ground stood behind the counter. She winced at his reaction but continued to approach him with a gentler demeanor, “I didn’t mean it that way, you don’t owe me anything.”

“No, you’re right. After what I put you through and all the damaging words I said I should be grateful you would give me the time of day. Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

“No thank you, I just want to talk.”

“Last time we talked, I made you cry.”

She ignored his invitation to sit, instead she stood at the gap that enabled the staff to access the bar, “Zen, that was two years ago. You were young and in a bad place. It doesn’t excuse the things you said but I understand how much stress you were enduring. I’d like to think that under any other circumstance you wouldn’t have been that way.”

“Of course I wouldn’t!” He exclaimed, “I loved you more than anything in the world! More than my acting, more than the stage! But damn it all, being weak and letting my drinking rule my life.”

“And it’s happening again?” her hand came up and placed a finger at his chin, lifting his head up to force eye-contact, “No one wants to see you fail.”

A warmth spread across his body at her physical touch, as small as it was. Out of the year and half they had been together not once did she not cause this. It soothed him, comforted him. She felt like home. “I have it under control, I promised Sugar I would. Is that why he brought you here? He thinks something’s wrong?”

“You have loyal friends that worry about you, friends that care enough about you to use their last resorts. Don’t be mad at him. He just wants what’s best for you. And well, he didn’t have to twist my arm or anything. After so long I welcomed the idea of being able to see you again.”

He moved closer to her, taking her hand in his and lightly kissing her knuckles, “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered, “Sugar was right, there is something wrong. I was hurt thinking you’d finally found another person to be with. I saw the news articles. I felt every raging emotion and wanted to just numb myself from the pain. All this time and I’m still crazy as shit for you.”

His open palm was at her cheek now, rubbing his fingertips lightly over the delicate skin of her face. As much as she tried to hold it back and contain herself for his sake she couldn’t help but melt under his caresses. If she were to deny that she didn’t feel the same way she’d be lying. She too felt she had lost a part of herself that night she broke up with him over the phone. But here he was, looking just as handsome as she had left him and the tethers that had kept them together still remained although now frayed by the weathering storm that was their downfall.

“I’m sorry, Scarlet. I’m sorry for all the names I called you, for the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve it.” His words were more than apologetic, they spoke as if he were in confession trying to absolve himself of his sins, “I’m not mad that you left me. I’m glad that you had the right mind to leave when you felt uncomfortable. I didn’t want to talk to you because I felt I had no right, not after what I did.”

Her slender fingers fell onto his waist as she subconsciously pulled him closer, “I forgive you, Zen, but you have to forgive yourself too.”

Zen let out a sigh as he now couldn’t stop staring at the sparkling eyes that had always managed to grab his attention. Against his better judgement he leaned down without hesitation to press his lips to hers, hand setting firmly against the small of her back.  The taste of her sent his head to the clouds remembering every time stole her lips throughout the days. This wasn’t a normal kiss; this was passion, this was love, this was longing.

He had spent most of their years apart trying to find someone that would have the same effect on him but night after night of chasing women he never felt the same thing. She was his everything. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured into her mouth as she made no indication to move from his grasp, “I need you.”

“Zen...you know I shouldn’t.” She replied in a sorrowful tone, “We can’t do this to ourselves.”

His jaw clenched knowing she was right. Not only did his body yearn for hers but his heart beat wildly to have her back into his life. This woman, who did nothing but encourage him and support him, was what he thought he needed to solve all of his problems. But respecting her wishes he dropped his hold and backed away, “I understand. I wouldn’t want to be around me anymore than I had to either.”

Scarlet reached out to grab his arm, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”

Zen looked down at her hand, then trailed his gaze up her arm to her shoulders, to her neck where he lingered slightly, then back to her face, “The offer still stands, then.”

She pursed her lips as she tried to make a decision. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. “It could end horribly if we did this.”

“Things already ended horribly.”

Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and nodded, “Then yes, I’ll stay.”

******

The clock chimed at six o’clock the next evening at Eros and Zen still hadn’t shown up. Red had been slightly worried but Sunny was the most vocal, “It’s not like him to even call! What if something happened? Shouldn’t we try to contact him?”

“If he doesn’t show up in an hour, I’ll call him myself. He’s done this before, he probably has a massive hangover and slept in.” Red played it cool as he lied through his teeth. The last time his boss didn’t contact them was about a year ago and it turned out the cab he took the night before to get home got in an accident and he ended up in the hospital. He didn’t dare tell Sunny this because knowing her she would be calling every hospital in the city trying to find out if he was there. “Just make sure to stay on top of the tables, hun. After last night we sure have been getting a lot of customers in.”

“Ah, so again I have come to save the day. I should be far more involved in this place.” Sugar mused as he had managed to take the evening off to check in on the place, “I wouldn’t worry about Zen. He’s probably still upset about seeing Scarlet last night.”

Sunny came around and wagged a finger at him, “Yeah! I wanted to talk to you about that. How come you get to squeeze into his privacy yet you reprimand me for trying to help? All I did was try to talk to him about her and you managed to bring her in person! How else did you expect him to react? Did you see the look on his face? It broke my heart, you could tell he was an absolute wreck.”

“If you don’t recall, Sunny, I have known him for far longer than you have so my actions have a different effect. I knew exactly what I was doing and I knew exactly how he’d react. You really think I didn’t think this through?”

She crossed her arms as her nose stuck into the air, “It was still cruel, and you know it.”

Sugar cleared his throat and set his glass on the counter, turning his body to give her his full attention, “One of two things could happen. He could either be destroyed about it and continue on his binge or their talk could have provided him with closure that will help him move on. I’m prepared to deal with the former but am hoping for the latter.”

“A fifty percent chance is rather low odds when it comes to a person’s emotional stability.” Clicks said as he sipped his glass of whiskey, “I’m surprised you took the gamble.”

“It was a risk I took for the sake of helping him out. Any other option had much lower odds. If you think I’m doing this just to make him more angry then you are incorrect.”

Sunny shook her head quickly, “I don’t think you mean to do it out of spite! You seem to really care about his well-being and I think that’s pretty honorable of you.”

“I don’t do it for praise, although it’s kind of you to give it. My loyalty is unwavering and I will do what I need to do to make sure everyone is set straight.”

Clicks chuckled slightly, “What he should be saying is, he wants to be a good friend. And indeed he is so. I don’t know where I’d be without this guy.”

“You’d be canoodling with that girlfriend of yours. Oh wait, you still do.”

“We broke up a few days ago, I forgot to tell you.” Clicks grimaced as he drank the last of his drink, “Another, Red?”

“Well color me surprised, Clicks. Who would have thought you’d break up with her for the..what? Twentieth time?”

As Red rushed over to fill the drink Click cleared his throat, “I stopped counting after twelve.”

“Honestly, it’s a bit much don’t you think?” Sugar started but before he could dive into a lecture…

Jingle~!

“Afternoon, beautifuls.”

“Zen!”

He waved unenthusiastically as he headed towards the bar, “Sorry, Red. I should have called. I slept in. Thanks for holding down the fort.”

“No problem, boss! Could you help me out with Cannon’s order, though? He’s got a table of seven in the back.”

Zen nodded and started filling the order, Sugar watching him closely, “And?”

“And what?” The bartender replied flatly.

“Were things resolved?”

As he finished the drinks Zen walked towards Sugar and Clicks, “She stayed the night with me.” His hand smoothed over the counter as reminders of the night before caused him to smile a bit.

Sugar let in a deep inhale and exhaled it slowly, “You’re an idiot.” His smile faded as he looked back up, “I’m aware.”

Clicks leaned forward, “Are you okay?”

Zen shrugged his shoulders as he looked around the lively establishment. Everyone seemed happy as the day continued for them normally but he felt more confused than ever. He sighed and poured himself a shot, taking it quickly before Sugar could scold him, “Honestly, Clicks, I don’t know.”

let the tags begin! @illneverrecover @zenscrotch @serensama @suzunesays @sinfulinsecret

[eyesaremosaics]

What about sags? ♐️🔮 if that's okay~

Good ole fun loving Sagittarius. They have the most magical smiles, they melt your heart with their cheerful, expansive jovial nature and their hilarious sense of humor. If they have lots of earth in their chart, they tend to be more cynical and grounded. If they have lots of fire–watch out. There is no stopping them. The party train just keeps going. Dionysus style. Free flowing wine, hedonistic dancing the works. Well that’s a slight exaggeration, but not by much.

They are charismatic, brutally honest, adventurous, and always seeking that which is just out of their grasp. Always grappling with different ideologies, theories, or conceptual ideas. They are the philosophers of the zodiac. There is an innate, childlike wisdom to Sag, which makes them endearing. Sagittarius men are natural womanizers, they love variety and find beauty in all your imperfections. It’s irresistible. The trouble is… They have a reputation for being the most unfaithful in the zodiac. Gemini being a close second.

Sagittarian’s are free spirited, open an honest. They speak their mind, and shoot from the hip without thinking. This gets them into a lot of trouble. They have short tempers, and are passionate lovers. They don’t have the finesse of some other signs, but what they lack in that area they make up for in pure animalistic lust. My Sagittarius ex was the most like an actual animal in the bedroom that I have ever experienced. Although... He also used to hit me, but he was a disturbed example. As was Ted Bundy. When they are good--they're GREAT. When they are bad... It's pretty bad. They can be so self involved at times, they can't see the forest for the trees. They are often blind to their effect on others.

They can be playful, so much wit and laughter with sag people. They love to laugh, they can hold their alcohol, and they go hard, partying until the sun rises. Anyone with sag influence in their chart will have a bit of a “seeker” in them. They are often in the next moment. Wistfully wondering about greener pastures, unexplored realms of experience.

They are easy to get along with. Dangerous when crossed. They have no scruples. They can handle the cops, double deal if they feel slighted, though typically that is not their MO. Sag needs to be challenged. They need fire and passion. If things get to comfortable, they become restless. That is why they have a reputation as cheaters, because they get bored easily. Keep them guessing, and they will love you with warmth and enduring fascination.

Many Sagittarian’s I have known, including one of my best friends, are childlike in their love. They have a purity and warmth of the sun when they express their feelings for someone. They love banter, inside jokes, wild parties. Having people around fills them, they make great friends. If you want an honest opinion without bias, Sagittarius is your go to. They will give it to you straight–whether you like it or not. My great grandma was a sag, and she used to truth-tell all the time, ruffling people’s feathers. Her response was: “well, if you don’t want the truth, tell me to lie to ya.”

My best friend Dani, was so honest, she was a horrible liar, just couldn’t do it at all. Yet she never judged anyone. Sagittarian’s are great confidants. You can co fess your darkest secrets to them without judgement. They are great listeners, and are fascinated by people. They give their undivided attention if they like you, and it makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

They are very romantic, sweepingly so. They can charm the birds out of the trees. They are hopeless romantics at heart, with a wanderlust. They love to travel. Broadening their horizons is what they are all about. It fulfills them. They can erupt suddenly like a volcano, but usually get over it pretty quickly. They don’t hold grudges. Anyone with heavy sag influence is more likely to be forgiving in nature.

Sag shrugs things off pretty quickly, they have more important things to do than to dwell. They’d much rather be chasing a new feeling that gives them pleasure. They are hedonists at heart. Oversaturated in the senses. As a mutable sign they are highly adaptable to circumstance. This “go with the flow” attitude is very attractive, because they seem to slip in to any situation and be at ease.

They are generally happy go lucky. Or cheerful in nature. Guided by their hips, like the centaur body, their bodies are often athletic and agile (unless they have Taurean/cancerian influence in their chart) they have a jauntiness to their movements, their bodes seem to be always in motion. Or ready to take off like a horse at a moments notice.

You will never be bored with them, that’s for sure. You will also never really feel comfortable either. There is a part of them which is never really satisfied.

I dated a sag race car driver a few years back, briefly, and he pursued me with great zeal. They are very direct, and go for what they want immediately. He made me feel very special, but I was still in love with an ex at the time, and made a huge mistake in turning him down. Now he’s married, and worships the ground his wife walks on. They are true idealists, looking at the world through the lens of how things “should be”.

They find social injustice infuriating, hate hypocrisy, and they fight for the underdog. They are fiercely independent , and very capable. They are highly creative, borderline genius at what they do. Walt Disney is a good example. They are pioneers, always seeing the glass half full, always hanging on the hope, believing in the future. Bringing people together in adventure. There is something… Rejuvenating and inspiring about their energy.

They have little tolerance for bullshit, and can go off the deep end with their self destructive tendencies if they are feeling down. They don’t wallow in their feelings, they distract. Through, drinking, drugs, promiscuity. They tend to have no shame, which makes them a bit terrifying and admirable all at once.

Sagittarius is… The autumn leaves gently floating to the ground at dusk. The cheap flight you scored to Europe on a whim, they are the high of self, the flashing lights of Las Vegas, the thrill of gambling, the drop on a roller coaster. The deep in the gut laughter that leaves your side sore. They are a carnival of dreams, impressionistic paintings, the soft parade, Mardi Gras beads, Venetian masks, para gliding over a golden valley. Bohemian Paris post WW I. Cubism, surrealism, the DADA movement. Tuning in on a saxophone. A fresh cup of coffee in the morning. The break of dawn. Dewey grass sliding under your sneakers. A massive rave, a raging house party. Psychedelic exploration. The throb of the engine, firecrackers, standing in the street with sparklers in the middle of the night. Climbing fences, the scent of freshly cut grass.

They are a Long Island iced tea, a sailboat at sunset, the passion of new love, young love. The feeling of falling forever and never wanting things to end. Sad that the party is over. Incessant chatter, big ideas, day dreaming, walking in the sun. Enjoying the fruits of your labor. Basking in the glory of pleasure while it is there to be had. Living each day as though it were the last.