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Gift for Daiyanerd: Miyuki Kazuya. Always cool and collected. Has a great side profile. Good at baseball. Well, no, great is the correct word. (sofa’21)

Moratorium

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ONE

Miyuki Kazuya

Always cool and collected. Has a great side profile. Good at baseball. Well, no, great is the correct word. Even when he sometimes messes up some of the smaller plays. Reliable. Daring. Funny. Charming. Has probably had a dozen girlfriends, or maybe not. Nobody has been able to get any concrete answer on that one question, but he's definitely a lady's man, his fan club primarily consisting of girls and women that claim they would leave their current lives just to marry him if he so much as hinted interest. Or at least that's what many of the magazines, both sports and gossip ones say about him

Not to be too full of himself, but Kazuya thinks that much of what they say has some foundation. Yeah, people like Yoichi and Jun know better but he has to agree that his catching skills are unparalleled. He might also really like sending magazine covers with blown up images of his smiling (smirking) face to Yoichi just to get a scathing reply or an angry call. His only response is his lady killer (annoying) laugh

He knows he's always being watched by someone, but it completely slips his mind that anything could go wrong on that day

The headlines are brutal and he's gotten many messages and calls from his friends. He hasn't really answered because, well, he hasn't been able to. But he knows what they're saying. He's laying at the hospital with bandages covering most of his torso. He has a sense of deja vu, having been in a similar position when he'd been in high school, but this is much, much worse. Something happened and everyone is scrambling to find out what

Everyone except Rei, who has been detained. The tabloids are lapping this up like it's the sip of water they've finally been allowed after being stuck in a desert for months. Except that they're ruining the lives of the people Kazuya loves the most

He sees different news channels trying to get interviews from the few people that make up his friends. They want to know about Rei from high school. They've dug up her whole life's story and put it on full blast. They want to know about Kazuya, as if they haven't already told all there is to say, invented and created his whole career. They talk about how Rei pretty much scouted him from a very young age. The same women that claim they would do anything for Kazuya have turned razer sharp, claiming that "they knew it all along" and that Rei "had it coming"

They all twist the information for entertainment and Kazuya closes his eyes, disgusted at what they say about her.

There had been an accident. His car had been hit and he knows he needed surgery. Later they found out it was all a setup and he went from being one of the richest people and baseball players in Japan to having nothing. His career may as well be over. It will take too long for him to recover. Games won't wait.

Kazuya throws the remote in his hand and wants to tell them all its lies. He knows Rei would never do something like this. She's smart. It doesn't make sense. As much as Rei will follow a gut instinct, especially if it's about recruiting potential, it's always based on logic. There is no logic here.

His name flashes on multiple headlines and all he wants to scream is no, I didn't she say she stole my money!

The machines connected to his body have been beeping for a while now and finally, nurses and doctors run in. They try to get him to calm down but all he can do is repeat It wasn't her! It wasn't her! Rei would never! Tell them to stop!

Soon he feels drowsy and he realizes he's been sedated.

Before he closes his eyes he sees a picture of Rei next to the news anchor. Her hair is down, her eyes look haunted, but her posture is proud. She's not in her usual suit. Instead, she's wearing that dreaded green top, almost drowning her, making her pale skin paler. She doesn't look right. It's not the Rei he knows. The Rei he owes everything to.

He feels the tears burn his eyes.

----

TWO.

It takes a little over a year for things to "settle" down, but once the storm is over, everything is ruined.

Kazuya still manages to get his face blown up on magazine covers, but this time it's for a different reason. He's now considered a victim and he hates the images of him being wheeled out of the hospital. Of the tabloids somehow getting a shot of his bloodshot eyes, his pale skin, and his hunched shoulders. He wishes his attorney had allowed Kazuya to do something, but everything was too precarious, we have to be careful. Careful of what? He can no longer play baseball. He was already pushing the age of acceptability, only being allowed to continue contracts because he was so good, was still quick, was dedicated in mind, body, and soul to the game. But now he was injured, would be in rehab, and nobody knew if he'd still be able to move as great as before. Nobody would take that risk

Rei is finally released, but her life is ruined too. Hers is worse than Kazuya's will ever be. Not just because she's the supposed mastermind of the accident and subsequent disappearance of his capital, but because she's a woman. It's made him sick how she's been torn apart and left behind. She had already been forcefully (through great results) making her own space at the table. This was just the excuse to make her disappear. Nobody wanted a criminal as their associate. The label was tarnished and it would take time to rebuild their name. "Apologies" had been passed around, but nobody would take the risk of allowing her space again

Nobody thought to ask her side of the story, to reach out and help. She was alone. Nobody could legally take what she's rightfully earned, but they can pile fines upon fines. She is "free to go" but they have severely limited what she can do.

It only makes sense that she finally retires. Kazuya goes to see her with the Seidou team. He breaks when he finally sees what they've done to her, all in "his name", to "protect him". Rei is strong, logical, smart, but she can't help but allow herself to show a bit of emotion at that moment. She wipes away at Kazuya's face, "There's nothing left for me here and there's no use crying. The only way to go now is forward."

Chris recommends that Kazuya go to the same rehab facility he went to in America.

Kazuya doesn't want to leave. It feels like admitting defeat, like running away, like he's abandoning his friends.

Yoichi grits his teeth, tells Kazuya he wants to punch him for being so stupid, "But hitting an injured person isn't my style, even though it's YOU."

There is little progress on his health, both physical and mental, and then Yoichi, who has been singlehandedly taking care of him whenever he has a moment to spare, nearly begs him, "Kazuya, please. Go. Don't let this defeat you. I don't want to admit it but I miss seeing that stupidly smug look on your face. Remember what Rei said. You have to keep moving forward!"

He can't help but laugh one night when he can't sleep, Yoichi's words and his concerned face plaguing his mind. He can't believe he almost let this defeat him. He can't believe he was down enough to force his best friend to make such a face, to make him cry for his sake. He feels like he's let everyone down, especially Rei.

He calls Chris a few days later.

Before leaving, he logs into his Twitter account, which, like any other media source, he's been avoiding for the past year. Someone has obviously logged in and cleared his notifications and as his last stand, no first, because even now "they have to be careful", Kazuya quote RTs an article he hasn't even read, but he doesn't need to. He chooses it because it has one of those headlines. He presses send and logs out.

I NEVER said she stole my money.

----

THREE.

It's two years when he finally comes back to Japan. His rehab had ended months ago but there was a part of him that had been afraid to come back. He's sure Yoichi had sensed it, which is why he'd pretty much dragged him back.

He remembers the conversation they had. It had been really late in Japan, he's sure that Yoichi was on the verge of passing out, could hear every yawn he tried to hide, but he wouldn't let Kazuya hang up, "I'm not hanging up until you agree."

Kazuya sighs, "There's nothing for me to do out there anyway. Here, I've been helping at the hospital."

"But you don't even like that kind of stuff! I bet you're bored out of your mind," Yoichi countered, and Kazuya has to admit that he's not exactly wrong. He misses the excitement from the diamond, feeling the burn on his thighs as he squats behind the batter, signaling different plays to his catchers, the feel of the ball as it lands perfectly in his gloved palm, the roar of the crowd as they once more strikeout another enemy batter. But he can't have any of that. This year Kazuya turns 30 and he has become stiff. He can't move as dexterously as before.

He hears some shuffling on the other end, as if Yoichi is changing positions on his bed, "Look. Not many people know this but...this is actually my last year playing."

Kazuya freezes at that. He knows Yoichi is still keeping up with his own records, has won his team countless matches for his boldness, knows they would never want to let him go. He briefly fears that maybe an injury is involved but shakes his head. No, Yoichi would tell him if that's the case, so then, "Why?"

"That's why I called and I need you to come back," there's another pause, not long, "I'm getting married."

Kazuya blanks out for a moment and then stops what he's doing altogether (he turns off the stove, he'd been making breakfast but this is more important. Besides, he had almost been done), "Married? Did you kidnap some poor girl? I haven't even heard of you dating."

"KAZUYA," he hears Yoichi yell, "I didn't kidnap anyone! And that's because my PR team has been making sure to keep things tightly sealed, and I guess we also haven't been able to see each other much too." That last part is mumbled but Kazuya catches it anyway.

Kazuya hums, still disbelieving, but only slightly. He knows Yoichi wouldn't kid about something like this so if he says he's getting married, he's getting married, "Congratulations then. Not sure how someone found you husband material, but they do say there's a type for everyone. How'd you meet her?"

"You are such a dick," Yoichi hisses, "How are we still even friends?"

Kazuya sometimes wonders the same thing. Yoichi has been with him at his best and worst and has never given up on him. He laughs, "My great personality?"

Yoichi snorts right before laughing, "Yeah right. Anyway, so I met this guy-"

"A husband?" Kazuya cuts him off, genuinely curious, but also can't help but tease, "You hid it so well with all those magazines. I'm sure nobody suspected. No wonder your team is doing such a great job at hiding this."

Yoichi yells into the phone, "Let me finish asshole! No! It's not a guy, her name is Wakana! And she's the childhood friend of this guy I met!"

Kazuya makes a tsk noise, "Yoichi, did you steal her from this guy? Are you a homewrecker?"

Instead of getting mad, Yoichi snorts, "As if. Can you believe Wakana was actually in love with Sawamoron for years and he didn't realize."

Kazuya adds, "So you seduced her?" before Yoichi can continue with the story.

"No? I mean, I'm not sure," but they both know that Yoichi probably couldn't seduce anyone even if he tried. Charmed, yes, but outright seduce? And a girl he liked? Very unlikely, "But she'd been tired of waiting and so I met her after she'd confessed and he rejected her."

"Hmm," Kazuya interrupts again, "So you took advantage when she was down. That makes more sense. She was probably so down about being rejected she would have said yes to anyone. Sadly that someone was you."

Yoichi is flabbergasted, "Take advantage?! MIYUKI, that's not- I'd never - just let me finish!"

Kazuya laughs, "Ok, ok. So how did you meet her? I won't interrupt again."

Just like that, Yoichi calms down and Kazuya notes the happiness in his voice as he laughs, not at Kazuya, but at something, the memory perhaps, and Kazuya is slightly jealous. He's not sure at what or who.

"So this kid, Sawamura, we were going to meet up at the park. He had something to tell me, but then I see him running after this girl, yelling about money or something. So I cut her off-"

Kazuya can't help but laugh, "Y-Yoichi, did you, did you attack the poor girl?"

"Didn't you say you weren't going to interrupt?!" Yoichi screeches, but he starts laughing a bit too, "And no, I didn't attack her but, well..."

There's a groan on the other end and Kazuya can imagine his best friend blushing to the tips of his ears, "I pulled her by the arm and she was surprised, but then she did something and next thing I know I'm on the ground, looking up at her and Sawamura is laughing like he's seen the most hilarious thing ever!"

He wonders if that kid was laughing as hard as he is now. He feels the tears tickling his eyes, his cheeks hurt, and he feels the force of his laugh pulling on his stomach, "I already like the girl. What happened next?"

Yoichi lets him laugh but his voice is annoyed, not at him he notes, but at what happens next, "So Sawamoron comes up finally and he knows the girl and I'm confused and just got thrown to the ground by a girl that doesn't even reach my chin, and I ask him why he was yelling about a thief, because that's what he was doing."

More shifting on Yoichi's end, "And you know what he said to me?"

"What?"

"He goes "I never said she stole my money!" so I knock him over the head because yeah, he's right, he was YELLING IT. Everyone in the goddamn park heard it! Made him buy me dinner and everything."

Kazuya feels a lump in his throat but pushes it aside, he turns the stove on again to finish preparing his breakfast, "I guess for Wakana I can go back. When's the wedding? And will I be your best man?"

----

FOUR.

Kazuya hasn't even been home a month when Yoichi walks into his apartment with their old Seidou team. Everyone seems to be there, even the first years like Ryo's little brother and Furuya. There really isn't anything Kazuya can do but move aside so that everyone can come inside. At the end of the group, right after the first years enter, he spots someone he doesn't know. A kid with unruly brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin who looks slightly nervous. His posture is too stiff but he's also looking around curiously.

Yoichi notices Kazuya looking at him and comes over for introductions. He pulls the kid into a side hug, "Kazuya, this is Sawamura, Wakana's friend."

Kazuya looks him over. He's heard a few things about him from Yoichi, "So this is Sawamoron?" he teases. He can't help the lift of his lips as the kid splutters in indignation.

A high pitched, "Kuramochi-senpai! You can't call me that anymore, we're practically family now!"

Yoichi howls, slapping the kid on the back, "You're always going to be a moron Sawamura, hyahaha!"

Sawamura grits his teeth for a second before standing up straight, stretching out his hand towards Kazuya, "Good afternoon, It's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Sawamura Eijun! Thank you for inviting me!!"

Kazuya looks at the outstretched hand for a moment before he doubles over laughing. Sawamura let's out another unidentified sound before yelling, "That's so rude Miyuki Kazuya!!" but he hasn't dropped his arm.

Kazuya takes a breath, isn't surprised he knows his name (briefly wonders if he knows who he is), right before taking that tanned hand into his own. Sawamura's hold is firm, if a bit sweaty, nerves probably, "Well, as you so clearly let my neighbors know, my name is Miyuki Kazuya." He pauses, "And I didn't invite you."

Sawamura pales slightly, looks over to Yoichi who just makes a rude noise, "Really Kazuya? You have to be a dick right off the bat?"

Kazuya only smiles brightly, finally letting go of the kid's hand, looks around his house, and says, "Actually, I didn't invite any of you over. Why are you all here?"

The others have already settled into his kitchen and, he peers through the doorway, there are bottles of coke and beer and the smell of oily pizza in the air. Jun has already made himself at home on his couch, a paper plate with a pizza on it. He's halfway into that slice and Kazuya doesn't know why Jun didn't just take an extra slice or two with him before settling down. Ryo and Haruichi are putting things in his fridge. He realizes now how empty his fridge must have been. He had been meaning to go grocery shopping but he supposes he hadn't had the energy to go. Kanemaru is clearing up some of the boxes he had yet to unbox, reading the labels Chris had helped him write, and arranging them accordingly.

He knows that many of these guys are still part of the leagues, wonders how they managed to take a moment to raid his home (notices a few faces are missing, like Yuki but he would have been REALLY surprised if they'd managed to get him to come over). He remembers how they'd made it a routine to visit him when they were at Seidou, knowing he could get lost in strategizing and numbers quickly. He feels a penetrating gaze and turns to see the new kid watching him intently. Kazuya can't help the grin that grows on his face and it's finally starting to feel like home.

He motions the two in, "Well, you may as well come in. Everyone is already inside. Feel free to raid my fridge and make a mess in my new kitchen."

Yoichi laughs, pulling Sawamura inside with him. The kid still looks slightly off-balance, but he sits next to the first years like he belongs and he wonders why this picture looks so right.

Yoichi dives in for the last slice of pepperoni pizza just as Sawamura is about to reach for it and then loudly exclaims, "Hey Kazuya, wanna hear something funny?"

Kazuya has already grabbed his own plate and he wonders how he missed all of these pizza boxes when they first came inside. He grabs one with sausage and mushroom, "Hm?"

"So while we were getting the pizza, we sent Sawamura to go get the drinks, right?"

Sawamura, who had just taken a drink from his can of soda, instantly spits it out and Kazuya is both intrigued and disgusted as he sees the drink mixed with spit cover his table, "Kuramochi-senpai, don't!"

He sees Kanemaru chuckling and Jun roars from the living room. Apparently, there were many witnesses to this apparently funny story. Haruichi pats Sawamura's back softly while the kid's face glows red. Kazuya is momentarily worried he might faint but then curiosity wins out, "Oh?"

Yoichi and he share a look, "Get this, we all gave him our share, right? So he goes in and comes back all mad, saying we didn't give him the right amount, but then, but then," It seems the rest of it is too funny for Yoichi to continue because he starts laughing and he notices Sawamura cover his face. He mumbles something but Kazuya doesn't catch it.

Ryo helps him out. He's also amused, a smirk on his face, "The girl stole his change."

Sawamura uncovers his face and yells, "I never said she stole my money!"

There's a moment of silence before...

Jun. He'd come back into the kitchen to get more pizza, "Who else could it have been? Had to be the girl at the counter, or did you just give up your money?"

Kuramochi, "Easy prey, how you're even a teacher is beyond me."

Kanemaru, "Wait. So it wasn't the cashier?"

Even Kazuya can't help but ask, laughter tickling his words, "Emphasis on "she"?"

Sawamura seems to realize his error and covers his face again. He's mumbling again but instead of being annoyed by the bad habit, Kazuya thinks it's almost cute.

"Haruichi?" Ryo questions and Sawamura uncovers his face to yell, "Onii-san! That's not fair! Haruichi you can't tell, you promised!"

Haruichi is looking back and forth between them, "Well..."

Then Furuya explains all, "He was flirting with the delivery guy."

It somehow gets even louder inside his house and Kazuya can't believe he thought of not returning. It's true that his baseball career is over, but this is where his family is at. This is where his life is truly at. He laughs until the tears in his eyes fall.

They spend hours getting him up to speed on gossip.

----

FIVE.

Even though he's only known Sawamura for a few days, maybe weeks, he's the one that keeps Kazuya company the most. And there's a big reason for that named Kuramochi Yoichi. Even though, or perhaps because, it's nearing the end of his contract, Yoichi gets busier. There are some rumors as to why he's finally leaving baseball, but just like he'd told Kazuya, everything is still under wraps. There are no incriminating photos and no face to put to those rumors jealous girls spread online. Kazuya wonders how things will turn out once Yoichi fesses up but until then, Sawamura becomes his shadow

One, he's not bound to such a strenuous schedule (Yoichi told him Sawamura is the grade school teacher at one of the local schools not far from Kazuya's new place. His new house is conveniently placed so close because it will soon be Kazuya's new workplace and they just happen to be on break now), and second...well, Kazuya's not sure. Yoichi didn't want to tell him. Not exactly

He remembers the last time he actually met up with his best friend.

Yoichi had invited him over for dinner and Sawamura had come up somehow (Kazuya comes to realize that Sawamura comes up in their lives very often). Yoichi had been contemplative. They'd just finished watching a movie and were just sitting there in the dark, the credits rolling.

"You know. If Sawamura had actually been interested in Wakana...I don't think I'd have ever had a chance with her. There's just something about him...he's so..." Yoichi makes vague hand movements, "you know?"

Kazuya laughs and wonders if this is what best men have to deal with with their to-be grooms. Jitters, he's heard them called, but he was sure this feeling was supposed to happen days before the wedding, not so far ahead when there wasn't even a date finalized, "Already second-guessing the married life?"

Yoichi doesn't even take the bait. He just sighs and leans back on the couch, "No, I'm serious. There's just something about Sawamura, he's so honest and hardworking. I can see why Wakana liked him."

"Careful, or I might start to think you actually want to marry Sawamura instead."

Yoichi kicks him halfheartedly, "Dumbass."

Their feet are still touching and Yoichi nudges him, "He's a good kid you know."

Kazuya leans out to grab his drink from the low table, takes a sip, "He does seem like it. Although he's a bit..." He tries to find the right word. Dense? Airheaded? No..."innocent?"

Yoichi laughs, "Yes! The stories I could tell you."

It gets quiet and Kazuya enjoys it. It's been years since the two of them have done something like this.

Yoichi breaks the silence again, "You know...Rei actually tried scouting him."

Kazuya takes another swig of his drink, deep, and tries to wash away the feelings of guilt. He hasn't spoken to Rei since the incident. Hasn't really asked about her although he knows she's ok, thanks to Chris

But he's curious now. If Rei had been interested in him then he was undoubtedly good talent, "What happened?"

Yoichi scoffs, "The idiot turned her down! Said he didn't need any fancy schools to play baseball."

Kazuya can't help the snort he lets out into his drink. He hasn't known Sawamura long but he can somehow imagine the face he'd make, how loud he would yell that statement with conviction, "Too bad." He's sure Sawamura could have been someone if he'd come to Seidou and he somehow feels cheated of something

"What position?"

"Pitcher, a southpaw, nasty throw," Yoichi grips his cup tightly. He looks over at him, "He's not a professional but he does still play."

It's a subtle nudge that Kazuya ignores.

Which is probably why he finds Sawamura so often on his doorstep.

Today he's managed to wrangle Kazuya out of his house, but only because it's work-related. The summer heat isn't terrible today so the two decide to walk and even though it's not that far, Kazuya finds himself lightly perspiring. Perhaps he's let himself go more than he thought, and he begins planning a timetable to get his fitness in a better state. Meanwhile, Sawamura is all smiles

"Hurry up Miyuki Kazuya!" He's already at the side door, opening it with his staff key, and Kazuya wonders if they should even be here. There are hardly any cars parked outside and the school is obviously void of children. Classes don't start until next week

"You don't have to call me by my full name," Kazuya tells him as he enters the building. Sawamura slides past him after closing the door, making sure it locks properly, "You can call me Miyuki-senpai."

"What?!" Sawamura's voice echoes in the hallway, "Why should I call you that?!"

"Because you're younger," he pats Sawamura's head and grins, "And smaller."

He slaps his hand away, a blush on his face, "I'm not small! And you're not even that much taller!!"

He stands closer to Kazuya and points at the few centimeters difference between them. Kazuya pushes him back, "Miyuki-senpai."

Sawamura just rolls his eyes and continues walking, "You really do have a terrible personality Miyuki Kazuya!"

Kazuya just laughs, "Thanks!"

"Not a compliment!" Sawamura yells and then points to the rooms in the hall they're in, "I'm usually here with the kids. Since the school isn't that big you'll probably get kids as young as eight and as old as thirteen in your class too, since you're the only gym teacher until Kuramochi-senpai gets married."

Kazuya nods, "Ok, Sawamura...sensei."

Kazuya notes how easy it is to rile up Sawamura. How his face will quickly turn red and his lips will form pouts or grimaces, his body reacting so honestly so quickly. Now he brings up his hands to cover his ears as he yells, "Don't call me that!!"

"Then stop calling me by my full name, it's weird."

"MIYUKI KA-"

Kazuya somehow manages to raise his voice enough to speak over Sawamura, "So Sawamura-sensei, where do the kids go out to play? Sensei?"

Sawamura looks like he's about to burst and goes off yelling. Miyuki follows him, laughing, their voices echoing in tandem

They end up outside behind the school somewhere. Even though it's small, Kazuya is impressed by how well maintained it is. There is a small playground to the side, which has been recently repainted, signs marking the walls and tape clearly discouraging anyone from touching. The mats at the bottom look worn but not in bad shape. Then there is a track that circles what looks like enough field to be a neighborhood. Most of it is empty and Sawamura's talking about how sometimes the kids will go out there and play soccer or volleyball or really whatever sports they need that requires a lot of space. The only place that looks like it truly has a defined purpose is the baseball field.

He feels excited and scared at the same time, wants to run to home plate, to feel the dirt path against his feet, crouch, and take in the view. But he also thinks this is a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have accepted the job. He knows why they want him, why they're willing to wait a year for Yoichi to come and teach. He's not sure if he can take the pressure

"Miyuki-senpai," he turns to Sawamura, who is pouting.

He's not sure why he feels himself calm down, perhaps it's because he'll take any distraction, even if it's loud Sawamura, or maybe it's because Sawamura looks ridiculous with his cheeks puffed out and his eyebrows scrunched up between his eyes. Kazuya smiles. It hurts a bit to do so, "Is this all just for the little gremlins? Lucky them, I didn't have something so big at my disposal when I was at school."

Sawamura suddenly inflates as he grins, "Yeah me neither! I'm from the countryside from a school even smaller than this! Wakana and I had to go to the other side of town with our friends if we wanted to play baseball. That's sort of what it's like here too. We share with some of the other schools and really anyone is welcome to come here as long as the kids aren't out playing."

"Wakana, huh," Kazuya notes. He hasn't actually met the bride-to-be yet, "Is she in the habit of taking people's money?"

Sawamura looks confused and perhaps a bit upset, "What?"

Kazuya only smirks, "I heard how Yoichi met her."

Understanding fills his eyes and he groans, "I keep telling Kuramochi-senpai not to tell that story! It's all lies! Lies! Come on, let's go to the gym, your to-be base."

They head back inside and Kazuya feels the smile that spreads on his face is lighter, amused. It's relaxing being with Sawamura, "So what, she wasn't stealing your money?"

"No!" Sawamura defends, "I never said she stole my money! It was all a misunderstanding!!"

"So what? She was just borrowing it?" Kazuya pushes and can't help but laugh as Sawamura goes red.

"I-It, my, NO! She just grabbed my wallet!! But she wasn't stealing it!"

----

SIX.

Kazuya hasn't been teaching for long when it's time to prepare for Sports Day and he forgets how tiring it can be. Sawamura is ecstatic the whole week leading up to the moment all the kids are let loose to run and play, and he's not sure how the flow of energy works, who feeds off who, but everyone seems to be ready to burst with enthusiasm by then. Kazuya feels like he's the only one who is burnt out. He's not usually used to so much happening, at least not like this

The school asks him to give an encouraging speech before the event begins, which Sawamura jealously admits had been his job the last two years, but he grins all the same. He encourages him to do his best, just like he does to the children and Kazuya isn't sure if he should be offended or glad when he feels the flat of Sawamura's palm on his back.

By then, Yoichi has finally wrapped things up with his team. He still has a few more interviews scheduled, but he's essentially removed himself (as much as he can) from the public eye. He's announced he's going to get married and has been asked many times about his to-be wife, but just like Kazuya, everyone is kept in the dark. On the few nights Yoichi manages to call him, to check up on him, Kazuya teases that maybe this is the most elaborate plan he's ever seen, that maybe this Wakana girl doesn't even exist

Yoichi just laughs, "What? Is The Great Miyuki Kazuya actually curious?"

Kazuya scoffs, "Of course not, and don't call me that. I can't get Sawamura to stop, I don't want you doing the same. It's so weird."

They talk until they're both ready to pass out but Yoichi tells him he'll be there and that he'll bring Wakana too. There's something strange with the way he says this but it's late, they've both been up for too long, and Kazuya doesn't remember the unease the next day

He doesn't remember until Sports Day, right before it happens.

It's usually a big event with parents and friends and the neighborhood coming by to see all their children perform at their best. This school is slightly different because of its size. It isn't just their kids (as Sawamura likes to say and Kazuya, reluctantly, has started to call his students), but a few students from two or three of the neighboring smaller schools. He's never seen the field so packed with kids. There are also a lot of cameras and flashing and suddenly Kazuya feels uncomfortably warm. This year it's not only locals that are here. He can see various news channels documenting the event and there are probably other labels walking around, trying to figure out what the next scoop will be. Or perhaps they've already been hinting at it but Kazuya has been avoiding all the gossip. He briefly wonders if they're here for him and while this might be slightly true, he's sure they're more likely to be here to catch a glimpse of Yoichi and Wakana

He decides to stick with Sawamura for most of the day.

Sawamura seems to be oblivious to all the attention, focusing on the kids, high-fiving everyone who is going to race, yelling encouragements as they pass him by, and yelling out happily as the kids make the baskets and reach the finish lines. Kazuya tries to show his support as well and Sawamura drags him from one event to the next. The parents love him as much as the children do. He briefly wonders if Sawamura will have any voice left for the next day

It's around the time the kids finally get their break for lunch (and that Sawamura pulls him over to an empty patch of grass so that they can finally rest as well, how Kazuya was able to crouch for hours on end before is almost a mystery to him now, he really HAS let himself go) that he starts to hear them

"I didn't say she stole MY money. Did you really not know?" "Is she REALLY here? "The NERVE of her." "We should tell the principal to kick her out. Where is she?"

Everything starts to go quiet as Kazuya looks around. There are too many people around, but he manages to find her by the fence behind the diamond. She's looking right at him and Kazuya feels himself stop breathing for a moment. He isn't sure what he was expecting but she looks exactly like she did three years ago, except somehow better. Her hair is up in her typical bun, she's wearing a pink button-up with her trademark pencil skirt. There's a small coat hanging off her arm, which is the only sign he has that she plans to stay for the whole of the day's events.

He gets up, ignores Sawamura's confused, "Miyuki-senpai?" and goes to meet her.

He remembers how Yoichi had sounded over the phone the other day and realizes that when he said her, he hadn't meant Wakana, he had meant Rei. She's smiling at him and once they're close enough, she says, "Miyuki Kazuya, it's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Rei," he all but whispers and he notices people are looking, the cameras are pointing in their direction and he smiles. He's so happy and relieved to see her. He wonders why he hadn't tried contacting her before, where the guilt and fear have gone. He thanks Yoichi, will thank him later as well, for always doing things like this for him, I'm the worst friend, aren't I? He can already see Yoichi's annoyed face as he threatens to punch him if he says anything so stupid again. He laughs, "It's been way too long. I'm sorry."

He finally has the chance to really apologize for everything, to offer his support, to ask how she's been doing, and he marvels at how Seidou is truly a family. His old teammates haven't just been trying to get him to move forward, they have also been helping Rei regain a semblance of her old life.

When they part, it turns into a game. They both know how things will go so they are bold, they grin, and take each other's hands in a firm shake.

"I'm sure I'll be seeing you on the field in the future." It's not a question.

"Of course." It's a promise.

At the end of the day, Sawamura and he are the last to leave the school since Sawamura offered to stay and clean up (and with him Kazuya). The sun is already on the verge of setting and Kazuya can't wait to take a bath and then crawl into bed. He doesn't want to wake up until a week from now.

As they're walking home (or really walking to his house because even now, he's never really asked where Sawamura lives, he imagines not far), Kazuya notices how quiet Sawamura is. He bumps his side with his shoulder, "Lost your voice with all that yelling?"

Sawamura looks over at him and shakes his head. Kazuya is momentarily mesmerized by this side of Sawamura. Quiet, almost shy. He's not pouting or angry, his features calm, slightly sharp on his handsome face. The remaining rays of the sun make his eyes look slightly gold and Kazuya wonders why he's suddenly noticing these things, "What's wrong then?"

The temperature had dropped enough that they were now comfortably wearing jerseys. Sawamura mumbles into the collar of his jersey and Kazuya is annoyed, but only slightly. It's that bad habit of Sawamura's and he wonders if he could tease those mumbled words out of him, is about to do that when Sawamura stops walking, closes his eyes, and yells out, "Do you like Miss Rei?!"

Kazuya is left speechless. At least that answers his other teasing question. Sawamura is as loud as always, "What?"

Sawamura opens his eyes, he's blushing and he can't seem to look him in the eye, "Well, there were those rumors...and then today...I mean, she's really pretty and just..." He goes quiet.

There's a lot here he wants to clear up, but he figures he should start with Sawamura's question, "No. At least, not really."

There's a question in those golden-brown eyes and Kazuya continues to explain, "I'm sure everyone on the baseball team liked her at one point. We were all teenagers and she's a really attractive woman, but that's it. Rei...she scouted me, believed that I could go far, pushed me, pretty much built my whole career. She's not really like my mom, not really an older sister...but yeah, like family."

They're both surprised by how honest he's been, which leads him to his own question, "Rumors? So you knew who I was. Is that why you called me by my full name?"

Sawamura looks embarrassed, "Yeah. I, I was curious about Seidou. I bet Kuramochi-senpai already told you about Rei and her coming to scout me?"

Kazuya nods.

They start walking again, "Well, I started seeing your name come up a lot. I always had trouble with my own catchers, I wasn't very good, sometimes my throws would go wild. I guess. I mean, they felt right, but Wakana, she was my main catcher, it was hard for her to catch them. Anyway, I started following your career. And just, well, then that happened and the rumors..."

They're quiet for a moment. Kazuya thinking back to how Yoichi had called Sawamura's pitch a nasty throw, the way Rei had pointed out Sawamura's staring while they talked and how Kazuya should catch for him, "When I saw him pitch, I knew you two would make a great battery. I knew you would be what could push him to greater heights, and that he would influence you too. All of Seidou. He has the heart of an Ace."

He's curious.

"Do you regret it?"

It's been a few minutes but Sawamura follows his question, turns to him, conviction in his burning eyes, "Never!"

----

SEVEN.

Kazuya finally gets to meet Wakana on his birthday. Yoichi tells him they're going out to celebrate at a fancy restaurant and he's not allowed to say no. Since he is the best man at their future wedding, he supposes it would be rude to not meet the bride-to-be so he pulls out one of his old suits, is relieved it still fits, and decides that's enough effort needed on his part. He also decides to forgo the tie and leaves the first two buttons undone. It's classy.

He's not surprised to see Sawamura also at the restaurant, and he's also not surprised to see him sporting a loud outfit. He's also wearing a suit but his shirt is a bright blue with baseball patterns, he's pulled up the suit jacket sleeves to his elbows (which, might he add, does not match his pants, but it somehow works), and he's actually wearing a tie. There's a girl trying to tame his hair but she soon gives up when Sawamura spots him and calls out, "Miyuki Kazu-mmyaa."

"Eijun!" the girl chides him, "We told you to be quiet!"

She's covering his mouth and let's go once he settles down. He rubs his hand through the back of his hair, ruining whatever work the girl must have done, "Sorry."

The girl shakes her head and turns to him, "So you're the famous Miyuki Kazuya, in the flesh."

Kazuya smiles, "And you must be the infamous money stealing Wakana."

They shake hands and Wakana laughs, "The one and only."

Yoichi comes up behind him, "Good, you're here. I thought I was going to have to send someone to drag you out of bed."

They're escorted to the back where they can dine in private. Yoichi walks in the back with him and Kazuya watches the way Sawamura's body faces Wakana even when they're walking. The way she pushes and holds his arm, laughs at what he says. The way that Sawamura lets her choose where she wants to sit and then makes space so that the table decorations aren't in her way. He sits across from her.

Yoichi whispers at him, "See what I mean?"

Kazuya doesn't need to see them interact to know why Wakana once liked Sawamura, but it definitely solidifies their closeness.

Wakana is very pretty. She has short hair that is slightly tinged with red, natural, she mentions when she sees him looking at her, "I get asked a lot." Apparently, it's a color she inherited from her great grandmother

She's as small as Yoichi claimed her to be, which makes her look tiny with her current company. She's wearing a simple and modest blue dress that matches perfectly with the ties Sawamura and Yoichi are wearing. She's just as honest as Sawamura is, and Kazuya wonders if all the people in his life are like that. It's refreshing. He instantly likes her and knows that Yoichi will be happy. It makes him happy too.

They're waiting on their food when Sawamura tells Yoichi that "Miyuki Kazuya" called Wakana a thief. Yoichi puts down his glass of wine, sending his best friend a glare, "I should have known you wouldn't behave!"

Sawamura is quick to respond, "It's all your fault Kuramochi-senpai! You keep telling that stupid story!!"

"The only thing stupid about that story is YOU Bakamura!!"

They look like children snapping at each other across the table and Wakana is just laughing. She turns to Kazuya, "Did he tell you what actually happened?"

Kazuya nods, "Sort of. Something about borrowing a wallet."

Wakana smiles, "Something like that, yes."

"See! I told you I never said she stole my money!!" Sawamura gets up suddenly but nobody notices the waiter coming with trays until the sound of plates falling to the ground and shattering are heard. But the worst part is probably the cake that Sawamura tries to save. Part of it lands on his hands, some of it on the table, but a big portion of it (thanks to Sawamura's interference), is now all over Wakana's dress. Everyone holds their breath, the waiter looks horrified.

Kazuya knows he shouldn't but he snickers and that seems to bring everything back to life. Wakana laughs and tells the waiter it's ok, she pats his hand reassuringly, "But can we get another cake? We'll pay for both of course."

The man is so relieved, he smiles and nods, and says he'll be right back to clean up, that he can also ask someone to help her out. Sawamura looks constipated and ridiculous standing there with chunks of cake in his hands.

"This is so coming out of your wallet Sawamoron!!" Yoichi cries out as he grabs chunks of cake from Wakana's lap and throws it on the table, "And YOU, I can't believe you did that!"

Kazuya only smirks, looks over at Wakana, and says, "Welcome to the family."

It seems like Wakana isn't just depleting Sawamura's accounts, but also stealing hearts.

----

OMAKE (months later)

It's the wedding night when Sawamura decides to crash at Kazuya's house. They're both exhausted and since they're both going to the same place the next morning, Kazuya doesn't make a fuss. When they make it home, they fight about who will take a shower first and Kazuya wins because, ultimately, this is his house so of course he has dibs. Sawamura pouts as he heads to the living room, ok, ok, just go you evil tanuki bastard.

When Kazuya comes out in a white t-shirt and boxers, he finds Sawamura already passed out on the couch, his arm and leg fallen off the side. He notices that he at least had the sense to take off his suit jacket and shirt. He's only wearing his undershirt and his pants have risen up his shins. Everything else is thrown against the back of the couch and his keys, cellphone, camera, and wallet, are all on the table. He's snoring lightly, his breath coming out more like little sighs, and there's a bit of drool where gravity has decided to do its job.

He's about to wake up Sawamura when he remembers something Wakana told him the first time they met. Right before they left the restaurant, she had pulled him aside, telling the other two NOT to come closer, Next time you get the chance, look inside his wallet. I promise it'll be worth it, and don't worry, he won't mind. He yells a lot but that's all there is.

The wallet is right there and Kazuya wishes it had landed the other way. At least like that, it wouldn't feel like he was snooping. No, he wouldn't. He doesn't really understand why Wakana wants him to look inside, but it's not really any of his business. He shakes his head and walks towards the couch. Before he can even reach forward, Sawamura shifts and mumbles a sleepy, "Kazuya."

Kazuya freezes at the stupid smile on Sawamura's face. He feels his face heat up and he's not sure why. He briefly glances at the wallet again, then moves to shake Sawamura's shoulders.

It takes a moment, a testament to how tired Sawamura is, before his brown eyes open and he sleepily mumbles, "Miyuki Kazuya?"

Kazuya hesitates for a moment. He doesn't have extra bedding and he knows sleeping on the couch is uncomfortable. They were going to share the bed, just like he always does whenever Yoichi visits, but suddenly he wonders if maybe this isn't a good idea. He tells Sawamura it's his turn to shower and nearly drags him to the bathroom. He stands outside just to make sure he doesn't pass out inside and somehow Sawamura looks even more drowsy than before. His skin is red from the heat of the water and they head to the bedroom.

Sawamura is out before his head hits the pillow. Kazuya arranges him on the bed properly and covers him with the blanket.

He finds it hard to sleep, the sound of his name coming from Sawamura's sleepy lips echoing in his head.

---

A/N:

I scoured Reddit for some inspiration and found this interesting prompt: "I never said she stole my money has 7 different meanings based on which word is emphasized." I sort of followed the prompt? LOL

things to note: 1. I just googled "prisoner clothes in japan" and green outfits came up, hence why Rei is dressed in a "green top" 2. I don't actually know how legal proceedings go in japan, if it would take longer or less (but this is fanfic so let's not question it) 3. Again, I don't know how long rehabs take but I'm not aiming for accuracy 4. If it wasn't obvious, Sawamura wasn't in the original Seidou team in this fic (lol) 5. Sports day apparently apparently happens around October (and again, Idk much about it)

I don't think I've ever written anything "complete" for this fandom but I hope you all enjoyed, especially you daiyanerd ^^

p.s. This got out of hand omg it's so long and hardly anything happens i hope you guys don't mind Orz Also, I kind of want to write more for this, maybe Sawamura's side of some of the events, maybe just a continuation, idk....

#misawa #daiya #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #future fic #modern day au #angst and healing #sawamura is best medicine #friendship #kazuya and kuramochi #humor #I write ff #gifts and exchanges #sofatropefestbingo2021 #seasons of anime trope fest bingo 2021 #seasons of anime gift exchange 2021 #fanfiction #First Meetings

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orionsangel86 · 5 years

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“I Think It’s Time For Me To Move On”

...And Other Things That Have Destroyed Me This Weekend...

So there is this common trope within love stories which generally happens at the end of the second act in which everything goes wrong and we all think that the lovers are doomed to failure. Its pretty much standard in every Jane Austen novel, every romantic film every made, every single bloody love story. Go ahead, name one. I guarantee you the break up moment is there.

Within the epic love story of Dean and Cas, there have been many break up moments, and all have had their emotionally devastating impact on the relationship and the show...

But THIS was a different level.

(For a nice summary of Destiel break up moments and understanding of this trope, @tinkdw wrote about it here.)

I didn’t think that there would be another moment within Dean and Cas’s relationship that could hit me this hard. The mixtape in 12x19, the wrapping of Cas’s body in 13x01, and the return of Cas in 13x05 are moments that I consider to be the very top of the scale in making this pairing undeniably romantic. Moments that pushed it beyond a platonic interpretation. These three moments have been the things I cling to when the show has otherwise made me doubt any conclusion to the DeanCas story, and since there hasn’t been another one of those moments since 13x05, until now I have been somewhat nervous that the story was dropped, or being forced back behind a platonic screen.

15x03 has ripped that screen away.

Emotional meta under cut...

This entire episode was an emotion fuelled dramatic roller-coaster that killed off three characters including our beloved witch queen in a scene that almost stole the show and practically canonised the SamWitch ship. Rowena’s death should have been by far the most torturous moment for viewers to endure, and it was extremely torturous and had me sobbing on a plane 3 hours into a 7 hour flight. That incredibly heartfelt moment between Sam and Rowena will probably go down as one of the top tear-jerking moments on this show. It was tragic in the best way - the way Supernatural is famous for.

But lets not gloss over the fact that in an episode where THAT should have been the climax, where THAT should have been the emotional highlight and end point, instead we get a further MORE dramatic stand off between Dean and Cas that pulled focus and ripped all of our hearts out just as violently as poor Ketch in the first act (a very clever and smug piece of meta foreshadowing there Mr Berens).

On a meta level, this is HUGE as a writing choice because they MUST know how this looks. This was the climax of the third episode of the finale season. The way Supernatural has always structured itself since Carver era is that the first three mytharc episodes of each season establish the direction of the story and set the foundations for the character level focal points and dramatic key notes to come.

That the writers have chosen to end the foundation episodes with a DeanCas break up moment that was more dramatic than a Spanish Telenovela has just stunned me and left me reeling because I just can’t see how else this can go. This break up scene absolutely DEMANDS a huge reconciliation of the sort that will be part of the A plot of the season - the FINAL SEASON. Guys. Part of the reason I have been so quiet and so disillusioned with the show during late season 13 and season 14 was because they pushed any Destiel plot into non existent territory - it became kinda irrelevant and Dean and Cas just acted like friends (homoerotic friends yes, and sometimes like an old married couple, but it was mostly played as an afterthought imo), so for this to suddenly be brought to the forefront of the emotional story again is excellent news for us.

The thing is, like with those huge moments I listed above, the break up scene is basically undeniably romantic when you break it down to its components:

1. It’s only Dean and Cas.

Once again we have another scene of high stake emotions that excludes Sam. In a platonic reading of the show, it makes zero sense for there to be such a hugely disjointed relationship between Cas and Dean and Cas and Sam given he has known them both for so long now that if they were all “just friends” then surely Sam would also feel the impact of Cas’s choices as heavily as Dean. In a platonic reading, Dean comes across as an asshole, Sam comes across as being weirdly uncaring about his friend of 10 years, and Cas comes across as not even bothering to get Sam’s opinion before leaving. A romantic reading makes sense because quite literally THIS IS A ROMANTIC BREAK UP.

2. The words spoken.

“Well I don’t think there is anything left to say.”

“I think it’s time for me to move on”

From Cas’s perspective at least, name one time in a piece of media where such language has been used for a platonic breakup sincerely? There have been heartfelt break up songs that use these exact words. (I should know I’ve spent the last 24 hours listening to them all).

That last line in particular is so heavy. It’s the last line of the episode and nothing about it is platonic. This is relationship terminology my dudes. “I need to move on, and get over you.” This is Cas’s bloody Adele song. My heart breaks for him, but if I was his sassy and fabulous best girlfriend right now I’d be sitting him down, sipping a cocktail, flipping my hair and telling him “Babe, you’re too good for him. Good Riddance. Let’s go out, have some cocktails, something pink and fruity. No dive bars for us darling. I’ll take you to Heaven... the fun one in London.”

In all seriousness though, from Cas’s perspective, this was him admitting defeat and giving up the fight for love. How anyone can possibly say Cas isn’t in love with Dean after this, well I just don’t know what show you are watching. This is the face of a heartbroken man who has just accepted that his love is unrequited.

3. The many faces of Dean Winchester

On the other end of the scale, Dean was mostly silent after his poisonous words “And why does that something always seem to be you?”

Forgive the terrible gif quality I’ve no time for fancy gif work!

Look at his face here. He knows what he said was fucked up and he immediately regrets it. The way he swallows around that regret and then turns away.

and after Cas says that devastating final line and walks away? We get THIS reaction from him:

The jaw clench as he looks down. The sorrow on his face as he realises he has well and truly fucked this up. LOOK

Finally, he looks up, makes himself look up and watch Cas leave. If that isn’t the face of a broken man I dunno what to tell you. Anyone who thinks Dean is totally heartless and uncaring right now needs to reassess because this is NOT the face of someone uncaring. This is the face of someone who has just lost everything. Again.

4. The FUCKING MUSIC

Seriously. The sweeping heavy drama of the low strings that come in right after Dean says that horrid line, that carry the weight of the look of horror and heartbreak on Cas’s face as they amplify the emotion there. As they blend seamlessly into the slow and subtle version of the Winchester family theme behind Cas’s heartbreaking speech and Dean’s stubborn stoic face hiding a multitude of emotion, until the violin dominates as Cas says “I think it’s time for me to move on” and the Winchester Theme swells to its climax, ripping all our hearts out just like poor Ketch as Dean watches Cas walk out of his life surrounded by darkness.

I MEAN.

A friend on Twitter reminded us all of this point about the importance of this theme via @justanotheridijiton here which is essentially:

“The Winchester theme is not simply an aural marker to let the audience know when and how Sam and Dean love each other (any Supernatural fan knows that is the baseline of their relationship), but to provide narrative information, especially when the image and dialogue are incomplete or inconsistent with the true situation... Seasoned fans will recognize the theme and its history of being paired with images indicating deep emotional bonding and a desire to do the right thing by the Winchester code. Here we trust our ears over our eyes to reveal the truth.”

So here is yet another key indicator that any surface read that this is actually an ending between Dean and Cas and that Dean really is just an angry asshole is utter bullshit.

Honestly, this was PAINFUL, but it was painful in the best way. It was 13x01 levels of pain, but this time it was Cas choosing to walk away which makes all the difference. Dean’s greatest fear isn’t his loved ones dying on him after all, but of his loved ones choosing to leave him. This was exactly the kick up the ass Dean needs in order to win Cas back, classic love trope style.

Hence my excitement at what is to come. Yes we won’t see Cas again until 15x06, but in the meantime I fully expect a good helping of angst and wallowing from a depressed Dean who has to deal with the fact that he has just lost the love of his life and it is all his fault. That he just pushed away the one person who promised they would always stay by his side. That has got to hurt.

So yeah, this episode emotionally destroyed me, and I’ve only really covered the primary reason, let alone all my feels over SamWitch, Rowena’s death, Belphegor’s taunting of Cas over his deepest fears and then having to suffer through smiting a creature wearing the face of his son until his body was nothing but a burnt corpse... I wonder if Bobo had a bet going in the office over how much he could hurt us all? He was certainly enjoying scrolling through the Supernatural tag on Twitter and liking everyone’s reaction tweets including some brilliant Destiel related ones. I do love Bobo. Our Angst Goblin King.

If anyone had asked me a few weeks ago what my thoughts were on the chances of getting explicit canon Destiel by series end, I would have said somewhere in the realms of 30-40%, considering it a battle of wills between DabbBerens and CW studio execs who I still feel are against it in general. I would have considered everything that happened after 13x06 as the writers getting a big NO on Destiel from the network and therefore having to pull back on any Destiel related plot points (purely my own speculation on BTS matters of course).

Now I am wondering if Dabb kept fighting the network? If he managed to wear them down into begrudging acceptance? I’m currently up to around an 80% chance of textual canon DeanCas if we continue on this path. If Dean is clearly shown to be mourning and hating himself over Cas next episode, and if this DeanCas dramatic plot line continues to be a focal point of the emotional story arcs... well...

I’m side eyeing 15x07 a lot right now. Only in my wildest dreams would I think that they might actually introduce an old boyfriend for Dean in a “coming out” episode, but the placement, timing, and potential is all there and I’m kind of once again donning the clown mask because I’m just in awe at everything that they are doing. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I’m gonna paint my face in red and white and wear my rainbow wig and listen to break up songs on Spotify whilst trying to shove my heart back into my chest where Bobo Beren’s gleefully ripped it out with his hands like the demonic angst goblin he is. Wish me luck, I’m not sure I’m gonna get through this season with my emotions intact.

#destiel #supernatural #spn meta #destiel meta #spn speculation #season 15 #15x03 #castiel #dean winchester #spn spoilers #my meta #destiel dreaming #destiel break up

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incarnateirony · 5 years

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Democratic Debates, Day 1

So a few ground rules:

If you’re going to reply, be an adult about it, and don’t try to read everything in bad faith default lens. Ask questions of anyone who engages rather than accusing. And not in that presumptuous white guy bad faith questioning that isn’t a question tone.

If replying, put your comments with a lead in no longer than two (reasonable) sentences behind a cut. Because

some of us are fandom blogs first or whatever interests and our followers aren’t deeply invested

I just don’t want goddamn pillars of text on my reblog wall if I respond to discussions.

Literally if you’re a republican out to just be a shitlord and start whining or complaining or insulting or “no u”ing, see rule 4

I will not reblog or reply to any commentary that doesn’t fit these very basic guidelines, because internet trolling etc is not worth the future of our country. And that’s very much at stake now.

If you don’t want to see this, blacklist #politics and/or #democratic debates. Now, my takeaways on this, some surprising.

So, I’ll start with some disclaimers: I’m pretty much “vote for my dog over Trump” party line right now but we need to figure out a mix of “our best chance of winning” along of “award for the least tool” with hopefully a side of “I really like them and their policies”

Honestly, I entered this without being fond of Warren. She had some... establishment backing and other things that were just rubbing me wrong. I actually went in to day one looking to hear about Tulsi since I heard great buzz about her but honestly had only pulled up a few pages that sounded great on paper, but wanted to see her in action. Everyone else was littered policy ideas disembodied and, as a very visual person, I need to be able to connect to how they handle their podium beyond writing nice policy platitudes or listening to the toss back and forth online with everybody screaming at everybody else.

I’m also going to get something out of the way, and BEFORE you flame me on my marks on the image, read why I selected one that... I generally wouldn’t. First, this was my original graphic I released.

Okay so sore thumb here: De Blasio. The reason for the circling being simple: if you took every semi-valid idea of every other white guy’s platform on this lineup, gave it a little bit of meat, and showed ACTUAL LIVING PROOF OF HAVING ENACTED IT ALL IN HIS TENURE AND MAKING THE IDEAS WORK, you get De Blasio. A lot of the ideas of the other nominees is basically *hand raise* “I did that.” So like. That’s that.

Anyone with no mark whatsoever is kinda like “you’re there and not trump so good for you” but there’s some updates further down this conversation on one of those.

The internet keeps acting like Klobuchar did well and I really don’t get why. It kinda feels like our token non-canuck trying to appeal to them-there northern hunter-type and cheese folks to reach out as a middle ground without actually committing to much and honestly, she’s just not going to last.

Booker caught my eye even if I was kind of head tilting because that is quite literally the whitest black man I have ever fucking seen, but he made a point about intersectionality, marginalized groups, and held his ground. He was all but unknown to me but I at least looked at him now. On the other hand, a lot of it felt like borderline pandering. I don’t know. I’ll keep an eye on him, but he actually stood out a bit at least. Not hard with the mayo jars up there but whatever.

It’s not a rare take online that Castro took the internet by storm. I love him. Everyone loves him. I do have some concerns long-term though; it’s less having actual problems with his ideas and more knowing that ... our country is too fucked for him right now. He’s advocating some pretty heavily open borders and while in principle I enjoyed watching him stomp on Beto about that, I honestly feel like if we put him against Trump, we’d lose.

There’s people in the red party that ARE tired of Trump, that ARE experiencing a crisis about the inhumane shit going on at the border, that WOULD be willing to crossvote to make it end -- but we can’t forget that a lot of them initially voted for Trump BECAUSE of a deep seeded Xenophobia, and the level of aggression -- again, the kind of aggression I personally agree with -- Castro had may end up being very dangerous long term in getting that vote. Pretty much everyone up there agrees we need very comprehensive immigration reform and immediate action about the travesty, but I feel like unless Castro smooths his roll a bit we’re in for a long term faceplant that gives us another four years of Trumpian hell by people pulling back into their xenophobic mindset and -- if not voting for Trump -- abstaining from voting for him, which I think several other candidates have in their court.

Castro made a bit of a gaffe about switching trans genders but the fact that he tried, I guess. And considered trans in the discussion of choice and birth control etc. It could have very easily just been a stupid fumble. He’s still trying to take it into account. I can forgive that, in the scale of it, even if it has a bit of performer aspect.

Also I’m left to wonder where Castro was when they needed help running in Texas to begin with. I also just don’t see the passion in his eyes of several candidates, it’s strangely calculating on most topics. I like his platform, in theory, but I’m very cautious.

Jay Insley is just weird even if everyone likes him.

Dulaney is a meme and I don’t know why he’s even here.

Tim Ryan accidentally wandered in on his way to the Republican debates as best I can gather.

Tulsi was the one that I was watching. All in all, I was underwhelmed. And then... it got worse.

The better part of her time was spent repeating her time in the military. And while it was great watching her school Tim Ryan, that’s not exactly hard to do. The fact that she lit his ass on fire when he just about self combusted in front of the party without her help -- I mean, it was the highlight of her showcasing aside from the snazzy Rogue hair.

Somehow, for as woke as tumblr is, and the progressives that had me looking her way, I hadn’t heard of her anti-LGBT past which she’s mostly couched her opinions on and held as recently as 2014 or THE FACT THAT I HAVE FOUND OUT THAT SHE WAS VETTED BY THE FUCKING TRUMP ADMINISTRATION TO BE ON THEIR CABINET, I’M FUCKING HORRIFIED.

BUT THEN THERE WAS THIS LITTLE GEM THAT I FOUND BEFORE ACTUALLY DISCOVERING THE PREVIOUS PARAGRAPH.

What the FUCK? What are you, seven? That’s literal pre-emptive “my sister stole my phone lol sorry” level tweets. YOU’RE A FUCKING PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE TALKING ABOUT IMPORTANT NATIONAL MATTERS LOCK YOUR GODDAMN PHONE.

Because THAT’S just what we need, we’ll go from Trump impulse-tweeting to like “LOL fuck korea - lmao sorry my sister texted that”????

Neverminding how STATISTICALLY INCORRECT that is. Depending on exactly HOW you count time Warren got 2nd or 3rd most time -- yes, more than Tulsi. She did not have the most. She did not have “more than all the other candidates combined.” And Tulsi did not have the least time, but center-ground on time. She wasted a bunch of it endlessly reciting her time in the military, scoring an okay shot on Ryan, and... well, vagueblogging about her opinion on LGBT to the vein of “something something equality my bad I was raised conservative” great. Great selling point. Great couching there. Five years ago you were fighting against me having rights and now you’re basically against government deciding what people can’t do but what the fuck is your opinion on me as a human being?

Doubling back from that problem though, that’s when I dug in her LGBT history and ended up tripping over the Trump stuff. AND THIS IS THE CANDIDATE I WENT IN TO HEAR FROM TONIGHT LIKE “YES PLZ LET ME HEAR MORE” because people I knew LIKED her, but then I find out she’s a Trump frand that has Trump-like hyperbolic meltdowns on twitter? NO I DO NOT WANT FEMALE TRUMP WITH ROGUE HAIR THANKS BUT NO THANKS.

Back to Warren, who I started with a MEH on, she came out WICKEDLY strong out of the gate. Her second half was weaker, she kinda has next to no active plan beyond talking/passing around more research on gun reform, but everything else, yes. Do I think she has the potential weight to pull it off, yes. And most of all, watching as she gets mad, upset, or emotional, do I believe she believes everything she said tonight, yes. Look, I know there’s STUFF about her claiming she had Native American heritage or whatever but I’m honestly so far past giving a fuck about the obscure shit like that if they have decent policies because our country is so FUCKED right now that I DONT CARE. She held her ground.

So in the end my spread ends up looking more like

of day 1 contenders, Warren still maintains her strong chance. Castro kind of sprouted up out of the earth and I really goddamn like him, but I do hold caution for my reasons above, because again, our country is THAT FUCKED.

Booker really turned some heads and I liked him Booker... Booker’s very concerned about a lot of marginalized intersectional issues and it took him from “who the fuck is that” onto my radar which is a leap, but he didn’t drill in as hard as Castro did to my mind and I feel like he’s just... I dunno, I could be wrong but I feel like he’s gonna fade. Beto, IDK, still exists, isn’t an embarrassment and doesn’t just morph in with the other white guys up there. He’s not Trump. So I won’t delete him, but let’s say he barely, and I mean BARELY hedged into my consideration in this image, I almost just cropped it over to Warren.

De Blasio is just sort of “status quo, but actually enacts it” but I wouldn’t weep to see him vanish, either. In the end out of this debate though, I see like

Everyone else go home.

ON THE OTHER HAND, MOST CANDIDATES I’M ACTIVELY INTERESTED IN ARE ON THE FLOOR TOMORROW, WHICH BY THE LINEUP IS SLATED TO BE A BLOODBATH.

I’m really, REALLY hoping everybody has the common sense to make such an ass of Biden he’s knocked out early. Like that’s part of why I’m so goddamn interested in day 2. If we end up with Trump vs Biden we might as well all just put on our goddamn clown suits but he has the fiscal backing to push through even if he shouldn’t unless he’s utterly DECIMATED early on.

I don’t like Kamala Harris’ prison industrial complex CRAP but I’d be HAPPY to watch her drag Biden around like a wet rag. Sanders is a given point of interest. Buttigieg is another one to watch. Yang... isn’t... gonna last. But is just sort of a ... fun thing to watch I guess in this mix up. Someone else may surprise me, I don’t know.

#politics #democratic debates

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santamonicaroleplay · 5 years

Text

Secrets Masterlist

GROUP A

Marco

━ Marco suffers with OCD, but keeps it well hidden most of the time. He’s had periods where it’s been so bad that he’s washed his hands until they were red raw, though —- usually when something’s happened to upset his normally happy life. ━ When he was sixteen, he stole his best friend’s girlfriend. It was unintentional, but she was also a surfer and they spent every day together, things just “happened”. ━ Marco totalled his dad’s car when he was 18 and DUI. His dad still thinks it was the other driver’s fault.

Jason

━ He is a half sibling but is not aware of it yet, his mother had an affair. ━ Got in a car crash with a friend when both fell asleep and it resulted in the death of an old man. Luckily the mans family decided not to press charges. ━ Overdosed in his sophomore year of high school and nearly died but his family kept it under wraps.

Phobe

━ Use to be a drug dealer ━ Became a camgirl for a while to pay bills ━ She only thinks that she knows who the father of Dani is. Phobe is still completely uncertain even if she has a hunch of who it is

Beckett

━ sells drugs ━ made out with his 27 year old college professor when he was in his junior year of college ━ has always claimed he’s had sex but is actually a virgin

GROUP B

Amy

━ Amy sold weed in high school and college. ━ She accidentally killed her daughter’s fish and replaced it with an identical one. ━ She still has feelings for her ex-husband (Nathan)

Enrique

━ Enrique has hired a private investigator to locate his estranged mother. ━ Contrary to the ‘bad boy’ image that Enrique exuded throughout life, he is actually very intelligent. ━ Enrique watches a lot of cartoon reruns before he falls asleep at night.

Olivia

━ Once kissed her sister’s boyfriend when drunk at a party ━ Is quite the nerd when it comes to fantasy movies/television, though she'll pretend she's not ━ Suffers from intense nightmares sometimes

Gemma

━ She lost her virginity while drunk. ━ Feels like she’ll never measure up to her family. ━ Still has a stuffed animal her parents won for her at a fair that she sleeps with when she’s having a rough night.

Summer

━ summer tells everyone her movie genre of choice is romance (drama, comedy, all things romance-related). but truthfully, she has a soft spot for dark psych thrillers with a tinge of horror - a little known fact that hardly anyone but the people closest to her know. ━ summer has only ever been in one serious relationship her whole life. they dated for two years in high school and saw a future together past graduation and into adulthood. however, summer had a pregnancy scare at the end of their senior year, prompting her to end the relationship. since then, she’s avoided dating anyone steadily and has stuck to short-term flings. so far her older sister is the only person who knows about the pregnancy scare. ━ summer used to thrift-hunt for rare designer finds and vintage clothing at the local secondhand shops in monterey, freshening them up and selling them online for a profit. it was a hobby she took to when she was still a kid, but she’s refrained from telling anyone given her current status as a well-reputed stylist.

GROUP C

Wes

━ there have been a few songs written by him that have made it onto Reckless albums about the relationship between him and Sutton Barnes and the aftermath of their relationship ━ had to take depression medication which he has been off of for 3 years ━ attended therapy twice a month for two years after his mother’s death

Alondra

━ She is afraid of crows. ━ She is a cosplayer but does really extravagant cosplays that always cover or modify her face ━ She has an insane funko pop collection, she keeps them in her spare bedroom along with all of her other nerd things

Brooklyn

━ Dealt with breakdown after fiance left and before moving to L.A ━ Stole a CD back in high school ━ (Was wrote down in Diary) Holds resentment towards her brother Jason for leaving her.

GROUP D

Hannah

━ Got pulled over for ‘drunk driving’ when she wasn’t even drunk. Just a bad driver ━ Hasn’t had sex in over 5 years ━ Still in love with her ex-fiance Hanson

Ivy

━ she has embarrassing videos she made with her friends online when she was young and in Australia ━ she's not sure if she's really over her ex like she thought ━ she's planning on dropping out of her last year of vet school to use the loan money with the home and grandmother

Caroline

━ Got a secret tattoo in HS without parents knowing ━ Suffered miscarriage after husband passed away ━ Learned how to kiss through a female friend back in HS

Hunter

━ Hunter often lies about his relationship with his family. He and his father have always been at odds and they haven’t talked since Hunter left home to move to LA, though when asked about his relatives, he’s publicly stated that they get along well and are very close, not to cause a bad impression. ━ Hunter has grown to despise the show he stars in, (which I have terribly named) “Dead or Alive”. Another thing he constantly lies about, after all, it would be terrible publicity for both him and the show, but he can’t wait for either the series to be cancelled, or his contract to be terminated. ━ Hunter has struggled with depression, and still struggles with anxiety. It’s not something he particularly lies about, but definitely tries to hide. Hunter has never really recovered from any of his past traumas – from the loss of his mother, to his father’s abuse, he’s always tried to ignore his pain until he couldn’t, and now his mental health is at an extremely fragile state, in desperate need of constant medical assistance.

Christopher

━ Toph is dyslexic, and even though he’s invested hours and hours into tutors and therapies ━ Topher has Ehlers-Danlos syndrome so his joints are hypermobile and weakened from a lifetime of various sprains and dislocations. He originally took an interest in yoga in an attempt to quell fear that his body would start irreparably deteriorating from his progressive injuries, and while he’s found that it’s offered him some relief and reassurance, he’s still prone to stretched ligaments and dislocations. Though he wouldn’t deny it if asked, it’s not offered knowledge about the gardener. (Save for a handful of rec center yogis who once watched his shoulder pop right out of socket mid one-handed tree pose.) ━ Every now and then, he’ll pull the curtains and open up all of the windows in his loft apartment to let the sunlight and fresh air in, turn on a good song strip totally naked, and enjoy a very relaxed and unhindered yoga / meditation session to refresh and realign his chakras and reconnect with his body. He’s pretty sure his windows aren’t visible from the sidewalk several stories below anyway, but his cat has walked in on him in compromising positions once or twice.

GROUP E

Skyler

━ Searches for his birth family online when he's drunk ━ He can quote Pretty Woman word for word ━ Once cried for an hour straight at a Cher concert because he thought she was so wonderful

Mai

━ She has the biggest crush on her best friend Beckett and it terrifies her. ━ She suffers from nightmares, so she chooses to use night time for writing or going on walks to avoid sleeping. ━ Though she says she has, she still has yet to let go of her mother’s death after almost nine years of the event passing.

Zahra

━ When Zahra moved to New York, her parents thought she was enrolled in university, but she actually dropped out to become a singer. ━ The night before the day her brother went missing Zahra ignored several phone calls from him because she was auditioning for a gig. ━ Since her return to Santa Monica 2 months ago, Zahra and her parents have been seeing a therapist.

Ophelia

━ The summer before college, Ophelia had a fling with one of her father’s associates. ━ When she was 7, she accidentally melted the face off her sister’s favorite Barbie doll by trying to blow dry her hair. Her sister thinks the dog mangled her doll to this day. ━ When filming her first television show, Ophelia had a crush on her co-star.

GROUP F

Nathan

━ Before making it big, he had a very brief fling with his boss at the magazine he was working for, who had promised to help him with his career. They lied and he soon realised he needed to do it all himself ━ During his time on the football team in high school, he spent most of his time smoking weed under the bleachers than actually putting the time into practise. ━ Despite still being a major flirt from time to time, Nathan’s avoided dating and everything that goes with it since his divorce for fear of messing that up just like he did his marriage.

Adelaide

━ Has struggled with anorexia for years. ━ Cheated on an ex boyfriend with his best friend in high school ━ Was a bully/mean girl in high school

Alexandra

━ Former worked as a dominatrix Madame Mercy ━ During a weding reception she made out with the groom while everyone else was dancing. ━ Gave her panties to a random guy in order to get a cab, then had sex with said guy in order to get a free ride

Diana

━ Has never learned to drive ━ Will always take the stairs instead of the elevator as they suffer from claustrophobia ━ Walked out on her last boyfriend while he was unconscious in hospital

GROUP G

Iris

━ cried once in order to get out of getting a ticket ━ is obsessed with watching old 90’s cartoons and anime at odd hours of the night ━ had a miscarriage courtesy of her abusive ex-boyfriend

Noah

━ Was actually born in to the Aldridge family, but was kept from the truth his whole life. ━ Failed his drivers test multiple times ━ Used to be bankrupt when taking care of his siblings and had to take loans that took him years to pay off.

Ava

━ Lost her virginity to Alex’s boyfriend at the time ━ Still sleeps with a stuffed animal dog ━ Tells people she graduated from college even if she never attended

━ RJ is not over his last relationship because he still has feelings for his ex-girlfriend. ━ RJ once ran a popular twitter update account for Rihanna when he was in high school. ━ Before he struck fame with Reckless, RJ was a featured artist on a song, the collaboration was horrible; they also had an accompanying cringey music video produced; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sX6IhJ8wAKw

GROUP H

Jackson

━ Kissed Kourtney Kardashian ━ Almost got caught trying to shoplift but played it off as an accident ━ Lied on his resmue about knowing how to tap dance.

Bianca

━ plays pokemon go religiously ━ truly believes in the supernatural ━ is a published romance author under the pen name Veronica Vanburen

Kaden

━ Never disclosed the fact her parents are criminals and drug addicts to the police academy. ━ Had an affair with a married man ━ She constantly uses hot sauce on any food she can--pasta, sandwiches, burgers, etc.

Abigail

━ In the week before her wedding she had one too many and kissed a girl in a bar restroom. ━ Still rings home once a month and leaves a message despite her parents never returning her calls. ━ Once drove 36 hours to the house she’d once shared with her fiance only to lose her nerve and turn around once she saw he was home.

Jack

━ From age 5-12, Parker has swallowed every piece of gum he's ever chewed. ━ He hates needles and faints very easily at the sight of blood draws ━ He slept with a girl who had a boyfriend four times in one night and then fell in love with her although she decided to stay with her long-term boyfriend.

GROUP I

Emre

━ purposely let his academic progress go to waste while attending Dartmouth and was put on academic probation twice ━ had a relationship with a woman that was a close friends to his parents when he was 21 and she 42; the relationship wasn’t serious and they only saw each other for about three months ━ one of his first investments fell through with two million dollars on the line from his trust fund

Breeland

━ She is aware of the fact that her drinking has gotten out of control and has been talking to someone about it quietly. ━ Agreed to go on a date with a cop to get out of a speeding ticket. ━ Almost had a drunken hook up with the head of the label she works for even though he’s married

Spencer

━ She catfished a guy on Tinder after he broke one of her best friends’ hearts. ━ Spencer was arrested for assaulting a classmate in high school and had to do counseling and community service. ━ Spence was being stalked by an ex-boyfriend last year and had to get a restraining order against him.

Logan

━ Likes pineapple on pizza ━ Enjoys fruity alcoholic drinks. ━ When he goes out he loosen the salt shakers tops so it spills on whoever is after him/around him.

GROUP J

Richie

━ The first ever guitar Richard has, he stole. He didn’t want to ask his parents to keep buying him things when they disagreed with his chosen career path, so he went out and stole it so he could write music. ━ Richard cannot remember most of the women he’s been with, by not remembering their names; he came up with a system so that he tells them apart by numbers. ━ Although it may not appear so in every day life, Richie sometimes struggle with his self image while under the pressure of social media comments and expectations for what he should look like.

Mara

━ had a miscarriage when she was 22 ━ she knows that Noah Sinclair is their half brother ━ she used to write fanfictions

Freya

━ she is still a virgin but secretly wants to have sex. ━ she still suffers from partial memory loss of certain major events but tries to act like she knows what her family is talking about. ━ she’s having blackouts and sleepwalks to random places.

Kessa

━ Spent a week in a mental hospital after finding out about her biological family. ━ Constantly feels disconnected with her biological family/because of that disconnect she’s forced to do therapy twice a week by her moms. ━ Was a married couples third for over a year.

GROUP K

Faye

━ While back in the UK, she made the decision to track down the child she gave up at birth and was rather swiftly denied any contact. ━ Faye recently found out that her family is broke following her father’s scandal. She was the only one with any money, most of which she used for her education in Washington. ━ She returned to the US stressed and feeling out of control, so her friend took her on a vacation to Vegas where she could be out of control. The weekend ended up very messy and she ended up married to someone she’d only just met.

Sutton

━ Was aware her ex-fiance was cheating, but was too scared to be alone so she pretended to not know. ━ Skinny dips every third Sunday of the month before dawn. ━ Even though she should have gave the ring back, Sutton actually paid and kept her engagement right after her engagement ended, it is now in her jewelry box.

Thalia

━ When she was a tween, Thalia tried and failed at becoming a popular ‘youtuber’. At the time her channel featured vlogs, dancing, baking, and makeup tutorials. ━ Thalia cheated during monopoly at her family’s game night and still feels guilty. ━ Thalia uses popular hookup apps for the attention she gets, but she never actually meets up with anyone.

Leyla

━ Slept with one of her professors at Harvard ━ Still watches Disney films when she’s having a bad day ━ Once escaped a one night stand by climbing out of a top floor window

#santamevent2

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melonkooky · 6 years

Text

publicity stunt [jeon jungkook]

requested

word count: 2037

genre: some fluff, mostly angst

author’s note: i really liked this idea, thanks for requesting!!!! i also didn’t edit this so there’s going to be lots of mistakes but i’ll get them fixed, don’t worry.

please do not copy my work. but please like and reblog it. thank you!!!!

masterlist

jungkook was your best friend. you two had been friends for a long, long time, practically growing up together. you were fortunate enough to have a friend like him. you two had grow up on the same street, only being a few houses away from each other. you two always went to the same school. jungkook was the type to always stand up for you when you were in trouble. there was one instance where you had accidentally spilled a pack of colored pencils on the floor in elementary school. but because you were late for another class, you had left the spill there. this caused another student to slip on a colored pencil, falling and breaking his arm. a few other students had recalled you fleeing the scene and that was all the teacher needed to start acusing you. however, as the teacher was asking why you hadn't cleaned your mess up, jungkook told the teacher that he had told you that he was the one that told you not to clean up the mess. the teacher was a bit skeptical, but nevertheless, you didn't get detention.

there were numerous times when jungkook had stood up or helped you. but now it was your turn.

it was 7:00 am. you were sleep as you didn't have work until later. you really needed a morning like this one. no disturbances, no agenda, other than to sleep through the morning. but your best friend had other things in mind. first, the morning began with your phone buzzing, someone was calling your phone. but it was your time so you ignored them. then there was an urgent knock on your door. before you could even leave the bed, someone was bursting into your bedroom. "y/n!"

you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. you glared at jungkook. "why'd you even bother knocking when you have my spare key?"

"i knew you were asleep. plus, i didn't want to intrude." he sat down on the bed, removing the hood off of his head and brushing his hair.

"what do you need from me so early in the morning?"

jungkook sighed and ruffled his hair. "well, you remember when you and i went to the convenience store a little ways from here? it was like midnight when we went."

you hummed before nodding. "yeah, i do remember. why?"

"well, while we were there, i had gave you a piggyback ride."

"because i twisted my ankle trying to balance on the edge of the sidewalk."

"yeah, but...the media managed to get some pictures of that."

your eyes widened. "the media?!"

jungkook nodded disappointedly, shaking his head lightly. he took out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and typeing something in. seconds later, he turned his screen towards you and sure enough, there were numerous articles with a picture of your and jungkook's back, only he was carrying you.

'does bts member jeon jungkook have a girlfriend?'

'jungkook's secret girlfriend?'

'who is the girl that stole the maknae of bts' heart?'

you groaned and placed your head in the palms of your hands. just was you needed on your well deserved morning off. "so this is all you came here to tell me?" you asked. you were annoyed, not by jungkook but by the media, always invading anyone's personal space.

"well..." jungkook anxiously scratched the back of his head, slipping his phone back into his hoodie pocket. "i had this one idea." his dark eyes met your own, causing a slight nervous jolt in your stomach. "what if you became my girlfriend?"

your eyes widened, your mouth hanging open in shock. you felt your cheeks heat up, probably making you look like a cherry. "be-become your girlfriend?" this was a moment you had been waiting for. in fact, you had fallen in love with jungkook years ago. you didn't mean to. it just...happened. you had tried your best to conceal your feelings because you just can't figure out jungkook's feelings. sometimes he flirted with you, but that was because he loved teasing you. it was something he had done since you and him were little. sometimes he did that thing where he wiped food off the corners of your mouth, but he always claimed it was because he didn't want you to ruin your cute image. at least he admitted that you were cute, that was a memory you always thought of.

jungkook's voice snapped your out of your thoughts. "it's just for a publicity stunt. don't worry." he reassured.

your mood dropped but you feigned relief. "oh, that's a relief." but in reality, you felt sad.

a week later, jungkook posted on twitter and selfie of you and him. he wrote out a long message that he did in fact have a girlfriend, one who he loved and cherished and hoped that the armies would love too. he knew there was going to be hate, but this was he only thing he could think of. if he didn't do anything about the photo of him carrying you, there would always be questions and if he continued to hide things, they would just get worse. he was happy with his decision.

he was excited about it all though, it felt risky. it was exciting to him that you and him were pretending to be a couple. today, he decided to take you out, keeping in mind that the media is most likely searching for you and him together.

jungkook had let himself into your apartment again. you were in the kitchen looking for some breakfast. "y/n, we're going out this morning."

"o-oh, for what?"

he hummed. "we can go to that cafe you like downtown. and then we can walk."

you looked at him, searching his eyes. normally couples tried to go out at night, at least trying to have some time to themselves, trying to avoid any photographers or reporters. but to you, it was like jungkook wasn't even trying to hide this relationship. normally he was shy about these things, you just couldn't understand. but, it was better than nothing. at lease this fake relationship could partly satisfy your feelings for him.

you got dressed in your best clothes, not wannng to embarrass jungkook of your usual attire that consisted of some plain t-shirt and leggings or jeans. you tried your best to look your best. jungkook had takes to you about everything, making sure you were okay with everything. there was going to be times when someone tries to ask you questions when you were minding your own business, people are going to contact you on social media, all the results of this whole thing. but as long as you were with jungkook, you were fine.

jungkook brought you to the cafe you loved. you were starving so you ordered your two favorite items as well as your favorite drink. jungkook ordered his own favorites as well. then as you were eating, you noticed a few people point to you as they lowed their heads, trying to seem inconspicuous. you felt a bit uncomfortable and tried to keep eating. then, you heard a camera shutter. you decided to stop eating, not really liking the attention. "jungkook, i don't like this." you whispered to him.

he smiled as if you told him a joke. "things just need to settle down. just bare with it for a little while longer, okay?" he then reached across the table and took your hand. you know this was just part of the act, but you still felt the butterflies of anxiety in your stomach. you cleared your throat and nodding, smiling at him.

later, jungkook decided to walk around town, wanting to check out stores. he held your hand tightly the entire time and you don't know if you were overthinking things but, things felt so real, as if jungkook wasn't acting. you wanted to believe it but you didn't want to get your hopes up. as much as you wanted jungkook to be your real boyfriend, you didn't think you could take the act anymore. as you and jungkook were in a store, two reporters with cameras walked in, taking pictures. jungkook smiled and waved to the camera but you couldn't help but feel anxious. you didn't like people just invading your privacy. "jungkook, i think i'm going to go home."

expecting a reply, you were surprised when jungkook suddenly cupped your cheeks and kissed your lips. your eyes widened at the sudden action and then you noticed many taking your picture at bangtan's maknae kissed you. he smiled as he pulled away while you were blushing like mad. you were having mixed feelings. but in the end, you couldn't take this act anymore. suddenly, you bolted. jungkook was shocked, not even able to register you leaving. you wanted him to call your name as you pushed through the increasing crowd, but he didn't.

many took your picture as you fled, trying to ask you why you were running away when jungkook kissed you. you didn't realize it until midnight when you were on the internet. there were articles about you running away, some against you for abandoning jungkook when he kissed you. but the pictures they used were of your face, your tear-stricken face, jungkook in utter shock. bag sparked rumors that you were dating jungkook just because of his popularity. but they didn't know anything.

you were angry, you were embarrassed, you were upset, you were just crying. you didn't even hear jungkook walk in. "y/n?"

you looked up, aggressively wiping your tears. jungkook seemed bothered, but he was also trying not to be angry at what happened earlier. "why did you run away after i kissed you."

"it doesn't matter, jungkook."

jungkook looked at you with worry in his eyes. he sat down next to you. "it does though."

"you just don't get it. i cant do this anymore. this whole fake relationship, this fake publicity stunt for your sake."

"y/n-"

"i love you, jungkook. i have always loved you. more than friends. i was thinking that this stunt was going to at least help my feelings for you but they only made them stronger. i only fell in love with you more." you met jungkook's eyes, his mouth hung open. "you grabbed my hand and i felt nervous, like i wish you would hold my hand not for the sake of the public. and then you held my hand as we walked and i loved it. and then...and then you kissed me and just couldn't do it, knowing that it was all fake. i wished you had kissed me because you loved me." you had started crying again, causing you to look away from jungkook.

jungkook was surprised. "y/n." he was at a loss for words.

you looked at him with hope in your eyes, anxious for his answer to your question. "don't you love me too?"

jungkook's gaped mouth closed. he felt terribly bad. he loved you, yes, but he only thought of you as his sister, nothing more. he avoided your eyes. "i'm sorry." he whispered ever so quietly.

more tears threatened to spill. you shook your head, wishing you could just hide away from him, from the world. now you life was going to be invaded by people who didn't care. it didn't matter if you continued to date jungkook or not. even if you broke up or jungkook revealed the truth, someone was always going to snap your picture. you hated everything, you hated jungkook. "get out."

"y/n, we can still be good friends."

you shook your head and replied with a hint of sarcasm, "not with my feelings we're not." you laughed with no feeling, scaring jungkook. it made him realize how much he hurt you. but he just could reprocate your feelings. he looked at you with sad eyes.

"i'm sorry." and then he really disappeared.

normally love stories like this one ended with the guy confessing his feelings after the girl does. normally they both have feelings for each other. but in this story, only the girl had feelings and the guy just couldn't love her the same way.

#bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts one shot #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst

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heavyarethecrowns · 7 years

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Harry & Meghan Stole the Crown.

PRINCE WILLIAM AND KATE MADE A BIG DEAL OF PROTECTING THEIR PRIVACY. WELL, THIS WEEK, THE ROYAL PRESS PACK ABANDONED THEIR SCANDI TRIP, AND RUSHED BACK TO LONDON, FOR PRINCE HARRY AND MEGHAN.

By: Tom Sykes; The Daily Beast (February 3, 2018)

Prince William, Prince Harry and Kate Middleton have long been suspected of taking petty satisfaction in thwarting the press pack assigned to cover them. But, now Meghan Markle’s courteous example is resetting Prince Harry’s relations with the fourth estate, and winning the hot new couple of British royalty outstanding coverage.

A perhaps unintentionally revealing message was posted on Twitter by The Daily Mail’s royal correspondent this week.

Halfway through Rebecca English’s coverage of Prince William and Kate’s tour of Scandinavia, she told her followers that she would be jumping ship, heading back to England to cover what would usually be a fairly standard (ie non-newsworthy) event — Britain’s Endeavor Fund awards, which honor the achievements of wounded, injured and sick servicemen and women who have taken part in sporting and adventure challenges, and their families.

The reason for the excitement was that Meghan Markle and Prince Harry would be attending, and handing out some of the prizes.

Many of the other British reporters on the royal beat also left the tour early to be home for Meghan’s big night out. Blowing out Kate and Prince William’s dour tour of frost-bitten Scandinavia, whose biggest draw seemed to be Kate’s extraordinarily unflattering selection of Erdem maternity dresses, certainly turned out to be the right tactical move.

Friday’s front pages were devoted across the board to coverage of Meghan and Prince Harry’s appearance in London.

Meghan, controversially perhaps, wore a McQueen trouser suit and jacket ensemble, a chic choice — although the suggestion in some quarters that she was wearing black in support of the #metoo movement may be a little far-fetched.

Meghan was praised by headline writers for ‘saving the day’ after she smoothly laughed off a mix up with paperwork on stage, joining in with the crowd’s giggles.

The tiresome task of writing up Prince William and Kate’s further adventures in Norway was handed over to junior staff, and made about as much impact as the fact that the self-described Royal ‘ideas factory’ Prince Andrew was making a fresh speech about the joys of British entrepreneurship (ie not very much).

It has been astonishing to witness in recent weeks just how completely the public appetite for information about Prince William, Kate and their family has collapsed and the hunger for coverage of Prince Harry and Meghan has grown commensurately.

Meghan has stolen — or at least been passed — Kate Middleton’s crown.

As one commentator told The Daily Beast recently, when Prince William and Kate turn up to an engagement these days, they are greeted with a welcoming party and reception not unlike that more usually given to a minor royal rather than the screaming fan kids of former days.

On a personal level, Prince William and Kate are unlikely to resent the tailing off of interest in their personal lives.

They know as well as anyone else that it’s not personal, and that novelty plays a huge factor.

As British comedy website The Mash succinctly put it, “Meghan has delivered a knockout blow to take the crown because Kate’s been around for ages and we’re bored of her.”

The deeper truth is that Prince William and Kate have spent much of the past few years chastising the press for what they see as a prurient interest in their private lives, issuing missives on a semi-regular basis complaining of the latest outrageous invasion of privacy.

Whether or not the reality of turning up to sparsely populated events will change their attitude remains to be seen — as Prince William and Kate have often appeared to go out of their way to deliberately antagonize and irritate the press pack tasked with following them.

A prime example of this is their refusal to stop for a few seconds and pose for pictures, or give reporters a few words while on public engagements.

“It’s a very dangerous game,” one veteran royal correspondent told The Daily Beast — and now there’s a sense that the chickens are coming home to roost.

The behavior goes back to Prince William and Prince Harry’s entirely understandable belief that the press effectively killed their mother.

Whatever the truth of the multiple and competing claims by officials and conspiracy theorists surrounding the events of that tragic night, the central point of the brothers is accurate: had there been no paparazzi chasing Diana’s car, it’s unthinkable that it would have smashed into a pillar in a Paris underpass all those years ago. (An inquest in 2008, concluded that Diana’s death was caused by both the driving of chauffeur Henri Paul, and the paparazzi in pursuit of the car.)

Courtiers say that the brothers are merely following the Queen’s example when it comes to the press, and it is true that she does not give quotes to reporters on engagements or have a habit of posing for pictures.

But Prince Philip and the Queen have never been accused of trying to subtly frustrate photographers the way Kate, William and, formerly, Harry have done over the years, in an unfathomably obstinate exercise in self-harm.

In fact, Prince Harry was arguably the worst of the lot before he met Meghan. Witness his extraordinary interview with the BBC, in Afghanistan, when he told the reporter that he’d rather the guy wasn’t there. It might have been honest, it might have come from an authentic place of personal agony, but the image it projected was a master class in entitlement and arrogance.

But while Prince William and Kate have become entrenched in their confrontational attitudes to the press, Prince Harry appears to be learning a trick or two from Meghan about the art of diplomacy.

Ever since their relationship began, Prince Harry has been engaged in a comprehensive reset of relations with Fleet Street. There have been numerous, unprecedentedly personal interviews, in which he spoke of his personal struggles with panic attacks, paranoia, PTSD and other mental health issues.

He even spoke about the ‘chaos’ in a podcast with The Daily Telegraph, suggesting his wild youthful behavior had its roots in his personal life owing to his failure to properly process his mother’s death.

The conciliatory attitude to the press was also in evidence at Christmas when Prince Harry and Meghan chose to confirm in advance that they would be attending church with the Queen — a historic first that made the life of news desks considerably easier over the holidays.

Prince William and Kate have always appeared to take a petty pleasure in deliberately concealing the tiniest of details of their lives from the press — such as their whereabouts or, most famously, the name of their dog which was deemed ‘private’.

But Prince Harry and Meghan’s all-new approachability was on display again Thursday night at the Endeavor Fund awards, as the couple gave the press time as they entered and allowed themselves to be photographed.

Undoubtedly this new accommodation — a far more productive long-term strategy — is a result of Meghan’s influence on Prince Harry, one more benefit of his decision to marry someone used to the scrutiny of the public eye and courteously interacting with both press and fans.

Long may it continue — and who knows, maybe Prince William and Kate might discover themselves in a teachable moment.

SUBMITTED

Wow I mostly agree with a piece written by Will and Kate superfan Tom!

He did well until he metioned Harry being the worst and used the most ridiculous example to ‘prove this’. Harry said he would rather be doing his job which he was there to do, you know serve his country in a war zone, rather than doing an interview for the news - which they then edited to get headlines - seriously watch the unedited version and it is an entirely different interview. No wonder Harry was upset they made him leave his job and then edited him in the worse way!

As for the article I also wonder if this had anything to do with the tour in Bhutan too. You know why William and Kate while doing an engagement told the press to leave them alone because they wanted time to themselves. You know as they were working!

Anyway, how the Cambs are going to react to this because while they say the don’t like the press in reality it is obvious they just want it on their terms. They want to use it when they like, perhaps they will not be able to play the press in the way they want now so will start retracting a bit

#duke of cambridge #prince william #duchess of cambridge #kate middleton #prince harry #meghan markle #article #submission

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thebrokenblackman · 6 years

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The Nubian,the Colonizer,the Rastafari, and the “mixed” women caught in between.

Yesterday I awoke at 4:00 am to make salaah. After doing so I decided to check twitter. When I did I learned that the grandson of the romanticized British monarchy and the son of late Princess Dianna, Prince Harry, was getting married. Nearly half of the black women in my timeline were genuinely emotionally invested into the wedding as if it was their own. I saw hundreds of supportive tweets for a “Black” woman marrying the European prince. This bothered me, but this is also the reaction I would have expected knowing that abundance of the Nubian people here in America have been successfully white-washed and have now began the process of perpetuating self-hatred so deep that they don’t notice they hate themselves.So, I just stated my general opinion of disapproval of black people supporting this, retweeted others with similar views, and engaged in a few healthy philosophical debates. In my mind the issue of black people celebrating this marriage was something that I knew was too far embedded in us for my opinion to change anyones thought. So, I didn’t plan to make this blog nor even talk about the subject any more. That is until my girlfriend,who is bi-racial, came home from a day at the Chicago’s Art Institute with her best-friend. She does not identify with black people nor our struggles. She like Meghan Merkel, identifies as mixed due to what I sum up to a lack awareness,but I respect her decision to take her image and “being” into her own hands even if it is at the expense of empathy for half of her that is oppressed historically by the other half. She like many mixed women have have taken the power back from society by defining and promoting self-image and individualism. This is something you must applaud, but even this accomplishment is not without its flaws. The major issue with in my standpoint is by defining yourself as individual you remove yourself from a community. In doing so, like my girlfriend the bi-racial woman who identifies as mixed becomes desensitized to the pain of the people she came from.She makes decisions based on what is best for her and her pleasure as oppose to what is best for either of her racial denominations.

With that being said, she decided to make small talk with me about the wedding even though she knows my politics are afrocentric and marxist. She looked through pictures of the wedding with a glimmer in her eye and clearly the royal wedding incited something within her. She was so happy for Harry to be getting married, how beautiful the features of the ceremony was, and how Meghan was making history being a black woman in the Royal Family. I just listened. When it was finally time for me to talk I said, “Baby, she doesn’t Identify as black”. She Argued that Meghan Merkel did identify as black, but after research she simply said “O” and became rather quiet. Her quietness was not from being proven wrong, but from realization- Realization that Meghan Merkel was just like herself. In order to avoid argument that could be harmful to our relationship I avoided going into the complexities of the psychological mind state of the mixed dutchess and how it effects the Afrikan diaspora and just simply said, “ She- wether she identifies as “Black” or not is marrying into a White Supremacist Family who still colonizes the afrikan continent and exploits afrikan people. They won’t even give us (Ethiopian) the artifacts they stole 150 years ago through imperialism back ( https://bit.ly/2GzQ1us). The point is they have way too much of my people’s blood on their hands to care about the wedding and If Meghan Identified as “Black” it would be worse because she is selling us out. That’s like you marrying the grand wizard of the KKK.” As, I have come to expect of my girl she just ignored what I was saying and continued to scroll through the pictures of the wedding in complete flattery. Even as disheartening of an experience as this was. I treated my girl just like the women of twitter. I had the same expectations for them both,so it did not bother me nor did it inspire me to write this blog.

What inspired me and filled me with uncontrollable emotions somewhere in between pity and disdain was what happened a hour or so later. While I was sitting in the family room my girl and her two friends-one whom is white and one whom my girl says identifies as mixed - began to speak of the royal wedding. Her white friend said, “I just don’t understand people. You just can’t be happy for someone?”. I felt my blood pressure rise. What was the knock out for me was when from the corner of my eye I saw my girl point at me (she says they had changed the conversation in sign language but if so the timing was awfully quick and awfully bad timing) in what was supposed to be humor ,but was not funny to me. I got up and removed myself from the environment which had become toxic to me by ONE STATEMENT, One rhetorical question. “You just can’t be happy for someone?”. What was probably so simple to her hit my mind with the depth of the Atlantic ocean. It was complex. It was puzzling. But most of all it was inadvertently racist. These few words totally dismissed the concerns, thoughts, pain, and history of a whole people.

The lack of empathy for the concerns of my people who don’t support the wedding was angering. I can understand why you would be happy or why others would be happy, but you cant understand why some may not? Well allow me to explain to the white women, black women, and mixed women alike who share these sentiments. To do so I must give a brief history lesson;

The relationship between the Afrikan continent specifically Ethiopia and Britain is Infamous. It is not one of free trade, glorious alliance, and equality. It is lopsided like a teeter-toter with a fat white kid on one side and an anorexic black kid on the other. This relationship is one of a virus or plague that sweeps through a land causing complete famine and leaving nothing but air and space. Worst of all it has been glamorized and romanticized as “just” due to what the europeans of latter day called “civilizing” or what they call today “humanitarianism/anthropology” . Since the 1600s when William the Orange took the british throne from James II after their so called “Glorious Revolution”Britain has been invading Afrika as an Imperial power pushing a supremacist agenda and believing that a white God has Ordained them to do so.By 1690 the British were the leading slave traders passing the Dutch. Britain went on to seize the land and resources of Gambia,Sierra Leone,Gold Coast/Togoland,Nigeria, Tanganyika, Angol-Egyptian-Sudan,Zanzibar,South Africa, Kenya, Uganda,Somilia land, and Zimbabwe by brute force.They had come raping our women, cutting off the penises of our men, cutting the tongues of both so that they wouldn’t speak tribal language, taking our drums, and pushing their christianity on us.

In 1867 Emperor Tewodros Of Ethiopia had written Queen Elizabeth in search of alliance, but in her arrogance and totally disregard for Afrikan Royalty and holy lineage she didn’t respond. Not until His Majesty Ras Tafari Aka Haile Selassie took the throne did an Africa Nation ,a sovereign one at that, have an alliance with Britain. Or at least what they thought to be an Alliance. When Benito Mussolini ,prior to the world war, invaded Ethiopia with intention of (in his own words) “Conquering a backwards people” and “Building a new Roman empire” H.I.M. Selassie I went to Britain for military aid against the fascist leader. They gave nothing more than a cold shoulder. They would not dare help an afrikan nation fight a white nation. Oh No! Haile Selassie then went to the french colony of Somoliland in exile. Surely Mussolini and Italy were to conquer Ethiopia. Not until Mussolini and Hitler started invading parts of Africa that Europeans “owned” and european countries themselves did Britain apply pressure to Mussolini which allowed his majesty to come back to Ethiopia and retake his throne.

On September 9, 2017 his Great-grandson tied the knot with a “Bi-racial” Harvard grad named Ariana Austin whom he met while he was attending The Mecca aka Howard. The Royalty’s wedding received minimal media coverage which is a shame because this is real royalty. A royalty indigenous to the land it rules not one who took their land and keeps it by mass murder and oppression. Ariana is a rare type of mixed woman, the best type of mixed woman who let’s the world know she is mixed and appreciates both cultures she comes from ,but identifies as black because she knows what features dominate her DNA, how society classifies her, and most importantly that one half of her ancestry has put the other half through genocide. So when it comes to how to identify herself she takes the side of the oppressed rather than the tyrannical. She didn’t know her husband was royalty until after they had been together for multiple years,so this means she had embraced the black man whole-heartedly already and was willing to commit herself to one long time. She understands that the mixed black woman is nothing more than a light skinned BLACK WOMAN. She does not differentiate herself from her fellow lighter skinned sisters as if her struggle is somehow different. Black women were not so quick to embrace this royalty but have whole heartedly embraced Meghan. But why is that....

Meghan is who they want to be. She has the best of the all the worlds to them. She can be black when it is enjoyable & profitable to be and mixed when she wants to avoid the negatives that comes with being black. She is married to a white man also and not just any white man an insanely rich and influential white man. This is the deepest fantasy of the majority of our sisters whom suffer from subconscious self-hate. The American Society has propagated Anti-Afrikan imagery to the black woman since she has arrived on on the shores in ball and chain. From the Mammie (Above) in the reconstruction era to the White Washing of our historical figures (Sheba,Nefertiri,Etc) to The Barbie doll to the idolization of the Kardashians. This vigorous agenda to make the black woman and girl think their natural features are ugly and Marilyn Monroe and Kim K are beautiful has done its job effectively. If you do not believe me click this link (https://bit.ly/2bxEGAH ) and prepare to be amazed. Do you think this programmed Afrikan hate disappears with age? No, It merely gets masked with excuses like “I do it for myself” or “I just want to look pretty” that contradict the message of Self-love they are intending to get across. Meghan may or not hate herself. Who knows? Mixed Women like here may or may not hate themselves. Who knows? But, these were not the women on social media showing support in the mass for Meghan. It was the BLACK women. The same black woman who have through outcry brought to the forefront the depths of colorism and society’s perception of beauty that holds the WHITE WOMAN above all. The repressed black women is now eager to claim any and everyone as one of her own that has achieved status in the White world. Like Meghan- even if she herself says “Don’t call me black”.

Once again this is as I expected because America is good at what it does, which is oppressing Afrikan being. Sad enough no matter how hard the european attempts to wipe our existence and/or being off the face of the map they have not. There were Black women/men speaking in protest to this wedding! But why? Because of you all! You all have attached Meghan to the black community when we don’t want her nor does she wants to be apart of such. In addition to that she is joining a monarchy who has gained its power off the blood of all things black. This is possibly the most racist family on earth and she has married into it.She has not taken it over nor infiltrated it. She has joined it. Is this who we want our daughters to idolize? To aspire to be? A woman who put the history of her blood aside to get a spot in the bed and a seat at the table with the white man? She stands as a symbol that is recognized by the Black Nationalist Diaspora as a “FUCK YOU” to both us and our ancestors. The Imperial conglomerate that is The Royal Family is still today very much white supremacist. Apart from Prince Harry dressing as a nazi for halloween while one of his friends was a Klansman and the other was in Black Face like an old Mickey Rooney Movie, out of Britain’s Unemployment Rate Blacks make up 45%, Black men are nearly three times more likely to be arrested than white men, and black children three times more likely to be excluded from school. With that being said Britain is also still colonizing and exploiting over 37 sub-saharan Afrikan countries through high interest loans and mining companies.

So i ask you “why should we just be happy?”. If you got raped and later in life you found out your rapist was getting married or better yet getting married to you family member would you be happy? Harry’s Crimson hairs reminds us of the Asante and Xhosa blood spilled in the Afrikan grasslands.The wrinkles on his father’s Face look like the waves of the oceans that our people were thrown in from the Slave ships. Meghan is nothing but a light-skinned Omarosa. To you that wedding symbolized integrationist-based accomplishment ,but to the awoken, the 5%, the hoteps, the pan-afrikans, the vanguard that wedding was just another step further away from the New-Afrikan civilization we’ve dedicated our mind, body, and souls to.

We understand there are black people who the european has made incapable of thinking like us. We understand that europeans will not think like us. We accept this. And we need you to accept that we can not think like you because to do so would be to discard all that is important to us just to applaud two people making a public spectacle of a ceremony that is supposed to be sacred. So instead of asking us “Why we just cant be happy” ask yourself “Why cant I understand why they aren’t happy?”.

With Love for the Sake of Allah (swt)

-Hakeem Ture.

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highbuttonsports · 4 years

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The drive for 25: Are the Habs the real deal?

MONTRÉAL - JAN 30/21: Habs goaltender #34 Jake Allen makes a save while Flames #20 Joakim Nordstrom crashes into him during third period action of Saturdays game. The Habs went on to lose 2-0. (Photo by Minas Panagiotakis/Getty Images).

Le Bleu-Blanc-Rouge has been nothing short of stellar through their first 8 games of this shortened season...Marc Bergevin is quietly laughing inside his head saying “I told you so”. After many questionable and unappreciated decisions made by the Habs management team over the past 5 years or so, it is now evident that maybe there was a method to their madness because a team doesn’t start the season 5-1-2 for no apparent reason. Many hockey fans on the twitterverse will argue that we are making too big of a deal over this - cause it is a big deal. We haven’t seen a team this competitive in a long time, it is hard not to be giddy. Also, the Montréal media is fairly intense if you haven’t noticed, however, this years team is different - substantially different.

With that being said, I do not want to speak too soon on the Habs’ recent successes because the season is still only 8 games old - but it is too difficult to not be ecstatic.

However, there’s a sense of urgency and fire within this team that Habs fans haven’t experienced since many moons ago. The Habs have been great in arguably all areas to start, but the most impressive anecdote thus far has been how consistent they’ve been each night. It is one thing to be a great team, but it is a total burden if you can’t put it on display each game like the blue and white team with the maple leaf logo also in the North division...how’s that for a slow burn? All jokes aside, the Canadiens are undoubtedly a top-tier team this season with high expectations and potential now, but that statement will only hold if they maintain their consistency. Consistency is a trait that is hard to come by in sports, and when you have it, you better take it and run with it. The Habs are metaphorically in a full sprint with it right now. Inconsistency kills teams and their seasons, hence, the Toronto Maple Leafs.

The Habs suffered their first regulation loss of the season against the Flames this past Saturday night, giving them a 5-1-2 record and are looking to bounce back against a red hot Vancouver Canucks team who have won their last 4 games. A more than likely pissed off Canucks team will enter the Bell Centre for back-to-back games after the Canadiens stole 5 of 6 possible points off them in their home barn just over a week ago. Also, Canucks forward Brock Boeser is currently tied for the league lead in goals, the Weber-Chiarot pairing might have something to say about that for the next couple nights. These next two games against the Canucks should be incredibly exciting to watch as both teams will look to continue their winning ways in the increasingly competitive North division.

On another note, Victor Mete will be drawing into the lineup for his first game of the season and will be paired with rookie defenceman Alexander Romanov, Kulak will be taking his spot in the press box. In my opinion, I would have rather seen Edmudson sit out instead solely due to the fact that Kulak and Romanov have been amazing together on the blue line thus far. Mete has been scratched for the first 8 games of this season and it was rumoured that he requested a trade. General manager Marc Bergevin quickly shut that rumour down and stated that “it was not true and [he was] not trading him”, courtesy of @PierreVLebrun on twitter. I am firm believer in where there’s smoke there’s fire, and it seems like there’s a lot of smoke in this situation. The rumour became apparent to the media and then Mete was abruptly placed into the lineup with no probable reasoning other than sitting for the first 8 games. If the trade request is true, the Canadiens could be using this game against the Canucks as a “prove us wrong” game for Mete, or they’re simply trying to showcase his abilities to other teams who may be wanting to acquire him. Either way, I can totally understand his frustration as he made great progress last season in the playoffs after he was called up after gaining much needed confidence in Laval. After Romanov showed everyone he was more than capable of playing in the league, it was clear Mete was going to be the odd man out for the time being. With that being said, I think a trade for Mete in the future is likely and warranted for that matter. The 22 year old defenceman needs a fresh start on another team where he can be the 5th or 6th guy every night, he may not have panned out the way the Habs have wanted but he still has high potential - especially out of the scrutiny of the Canadiens media.

The Canadien’s goaltending has been stable thus far with Allen posting a 0.933 save percentage and Price with a 0.898 save percentage over his 5 starts (3-0-2). The tandem may be the highest paid combo in the league and their stats do not necessarily reflect that, but they’re giving us a chance to win each game and that’s the bottom line. It is tremendous what a competent backup goalie can do for a team and Jake Allen has been an excellent addition to the Habs this year. Carey Price was always plagued by too many starts during the regular season due to backup incompetency and that worry is now out the door. Price was nothing short of great in the bubble playoffs last season as he was coming off months of rest and showed that he still has what it takes to be an elite goaltender. With Allen starting every third game or so, the team doesn’t need to play on their heels with him in the cage which has been a problem in the past few seasons. The players in front of Allen can play the same way as they do in front of Price - and that is something many other teams cannot do. Rest and Carey Price has been proven to be a dangerous combination time and time again, thank you Bergevin.

Moving forward, Les Canadiens will look to build on their strong start during this homestand. Newcomer Tyler Toffoli currently leads the team with 9 points (6G, 3A) and will look to build on his recent success against the Canucks. Not to mention, I think Toffoli and Suzuki should just play short-handed moving forward from now on - Toffoli alone has more short handed goals than half the NHL teams in the league. Also, the Drouin-Suzuki-Anderson line has been one of the top lines in the league thus far in terms of production. Currently their expected goals percentage sits at 71.2%, which puts them in third place in the league for lines who’ve played more than 40 minutes together (moneypuck.com). For those of you who may not understand what that means, xGoals % is the probability that an unblocked shot results in a goal, and 71.2% is pretty damn good. The Toffoli-Kotkaniemi-Armia line xGoals % is 69.4% as well (moneypuck.com), but that line was put on hold due to that headshot on Armia from Tyler Myers...kudos to Edmudson for sticking up for him. I’m no math statistician, but if my intuition is even half correct, I’m certain those line combinations should be solidified unless things hit the fan.

Also, if I may add, that blatant headshot by Dillon Dubé on Kotkaniemi was disgusting, if that’s not a suspendable headshot then I don’t know what is. I’m not usually one to pick on a referee because they’re people too like everyone else, but the NHL did not get that right, like at all. Thank goodness KK was alright, but c’mon.

Are the Canadiens the real deal yet? No, not yet, at least by my conservative estimate. Are they good? Yes. They are a four line team right now and are exhausting to play against, but the season is still too young to make that statement. “We can play any way you want to play” is what Bergevin said on the first day of training camp. By all accounts, he was right. The Habs are now a “win at all costs” team now, they are no walk in the park for their opponents anymore. It’s an exciting time to be a Habs fan, the drive for 25 has grown ever more bright.

By: Patrick Nyman

#hockey #nhl news #montreal #go habs go

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twatd · 7 years

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The Third Theme

Alex: From the backmatter of issue #33:

Look, Kieron, we know a direct challenge when we see one.

(Spoilers after the cut. So, so many spoilers.)

So what could that third theme be?

My immediate reaction is that, if it’s as integral as ‘art’ and ‘mortality’, it’s probably something the WicDiv Tumblr community have picked out before. But Gillen sells here it as a big reveal. That implies it’s not something as general as ‘identity’ or ‘youth’.

He also says this theme becomes clearer on the last page. Naturally, I’ve spent ages studying that image, trying to understand not only what the hell it means for the story, but also what it could be nudging at thematically.

So, yeah, obviously, it’s ‘heads’. Everyone in WicDiv has heads, right, up until the moment that they don’t. There, cracked it. Another successful solve by the Tim + Alex Get TWATD Literary Detective Agency.

But, considering the possibility – unlikely as it might seem – that I haven’t cracked it, let’s consider some other possibilities.

If these decapitated heads really are what they seem, the supposedly-dead gods given a (really crappy) afterlife, that seems to undermine the stated theme of ‘mortality’. Especially when you place it next to Minerva’s apparent Ananke-resurrecting heel turn this issue, and the return of Laura as Persephone after she seemingly died.

Presumably that’s by design, so maybe WicDiv’s third theme is a direct contrast to its second one: ‘immortality’. After all, David Bowie might be dead but – at least if you follow the people I do on Twitter – we still talk about him more than many human beings who are alive.

Or, more generally, you could sum the whole thing up as ‘cycles’. Nothing ever really goes away: not storytelling motifs like the two-page tumble into godhood, not long-forgotten plot points, not even characters we thought were dead 30 issues ago. This is certainly something that has recurred throughout WicDiv, from the very first “once again, we return”, but it’s hardly a secret – we were writing about all the circles and cycles back in June 2015 – and, as we said then, it’s more of a motif than a theme.

All the above is extrapolating from a single image. Striking and confusing as that image is, themes are emphasised by repetition and variation – so what if we take in the rest of this issue too?

There are three main strands in #33: the reveal of Woden and Mimir’s identities, Persephone talking through her survivor’s guilt with Cassandra, and the Minerva/Ananke/talking heads business.

The first two strands in particular are concerned with parent-child relationships. It’s strongest in David Blake’s awfulness to his son, but Persephone reveals that she feels responsible for her parents’ deaths at the hands of Ananke. These both chime with Minerva as the focus of the final pages, who was so mistreated by her own parents, and who also saw them killed by Ananke, the identity she’s now claiming to have assumed for herself. Parents are a presence in almost all of the gods’ backstories, as highlighted in Amaterasu’s British Museum showdown with Sakhmet in #31, where “family” was the trigger that led to her murder.

More specifically, what WicDiv seems to be interested in is the idea of the old consuming the young, treating them as a resource to further their own ends. Like, to pick a random real-world example from the last few days, baby boomers blaming millennials’ out-of-control sandwich habit as the reason the younger generation can’t afford property, rather than what their own actions did to property prices.

This is literally what David Blake is doing with Jon – tapping his powers, and justifying it as a down payment on the years his son ‘stole’ from him – and what Minerva’s parents did by monetising her demise. It’s also what Ananke, and arguably the population as a whole, does with the Pantheon. It takes a group of talented young people, and trades their lives for enlightenment or safety or power, depending how cynically you want to read the whole thing.

Actually, this does loop back to that final image, which puts the trade-off in its simplest possible terms, by framing it as an act of ritual sacrifice.

Actually, if we’re trying to condense this theme into a single punchy one-word, maybe that’s it: sacrifice.

That covers not just Blake and Ananke’s sacrifice of the kids, but the gods’ self-sacrifice in accepting the two-year sentence – at least, where there’s any sense were given a choice.

At the kindest extreme is Dionysus, who gives every waking moment – and eventually, his life – to others. He does it because he’s a good person, but Imperial Phase has interrogated whether that is a healthy impulse. There’s another, much messier examination in the Valkyries, and the recent revelation that Kerry has returned to being Brunhilde. It runs through the Specials, in 455′s Lucifer and 1831′s Woden and especially Inanna.

Perhaps most importantly, sacrifice also ties in with Persephone’s revelation this issue, that she feels like she made a deal for godhood. “No price was too high,” she says, as the tears finally break through. For anyone who’s turned personal tragedy into something profitable or praised, that guilt probably feels familiar.

So, is that the third theme Gillen’s talking about? Dunno, tbh.

But I do feel pretty confident in saying that this has always been the central question posed by WicDiv: What are you willing to give up, in order to get what you’ve always wanted?

#WicDiv #The Wicked + The Divine #The Wicked and The Divine #Kieron Gillen #Jamie McKelvie #TWATD

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youcancallmeelle · 7 years

Text

Friends With Benefits: Bill Skarsgard... Chapter 6

The next few days passed in a blur and things with Bill were different, a nice different.

He was so invested in me and even kept his word, he didn't push me to talk about what happened on the hill top, he was waiting for me to be ready and bring it up myself.

This morning I'd awoken to him pushing the hair from my face and placing a lingering kiss on my temple.

My eyes fluttered open and I was met with the sight of Bill leaning over the bed, I smiled sleepily at him and I lifted myself up to lean against the headboard, holding the sheets to my chest.

I was so tired from the last few days on set that I'd slept through the night and not even felt Bill get up or heard him get ready.

"Where are you going?" I asked, looking him up and down.

"I have a meeting."

He was clad in a fitted black shirt that was tucked into slim, dark grey trousers that were fastened with a black belt and his hair was gelled into place.

I bit my lip and looked up at him through my eyelashes.

"Don't." He warned, narrowing his eyes.

I tilted my head at him and smiled innocently, before pulling him down onto the bed with me and pushing him onto his back.

I dropped all the sheets around me and climbed on top of him, straddling him and pinning his arms by his head.

He groaned but watched as my breasts bounced and he shifted under me, it was pretty obvious that his trousers had just become tighter.

"I've literally just told you I have a meeting." He laughed, making no effort to remove himself from under me, even though he was considerably stronger than me.

"And? We've got time." I began unfastening the buttons on his shirt, revealing his milky skin to my eager eyes.

"My ego hurts at those words, I must admit and as badly as I want you right now, I really have to go." He sighed, flipping us over and kneeling between my legs as he fastened his shirt back up.

I lay with my arms behind my head, staring at the white ceiling of Bill's room.

"When will you be back?" I wondered, looking downwards towards him.

"A couple of hours maybe, I'm not sure." He shrugged, focusing hard on my naked body and running his hands down my thighs.

"I'm gonna head back to my place, I need to get showered and I bet my post is mounting up. My neighbours probably think I'm dodgy or something, I'm literally never there these days." I laughed, leaning up onto my elbows as Bill removed himself from the bed and adjusted his hair, pushing it back into place and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Wanna do something after my meeting?" He wondered and I nodded.

"Target trip?" I asked excitedly and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He groaned, and I clapped my hands.

"You're such a pushover." I giggled, now sitting up on Bill's kingsize bed.

"I'll show you pushover later, but right now I really need to get going." Bill hurriedly kissed my lips and left the bedroom, I could head him jog downstairs.

I waited until I heard the sound of his car pull out of the driveway, the gravel crunching underneath the wheels and that's when I finally decided to get my backside out of bed to brush my teeth in the en suite bathroom.

I shoved my hair up into a disheveled bun and washed my face, removing any reminents of toothpaste from around my mouth.

I quickly sprayed some deodorant just to last me until I got home and could have a good scrub in my bath or in the shower, depending on my mood.

When I was back in Bill's room I mooched around for the first set of underwear I could find, which just happened to be plain black.

I stole another t-shirt from Bill which was white with a random print on the front and rolled the sleeves up so they didn't hang awkwardly at the crease of my elbow, I hated that.

Luckily, I had a few pairs of Joni jeans hanging around here so I merely shoved a light blue pair on and was good to go.

I was pretty impressed with how briskly I'd managed to get myself ready, although I definitely had the advantage seeing as I hadn't applied any make up.

I tidied up Bill's bedroom and made his bed, pulling up the blinds to allow the morning sunlight to flood the room and wake me up further.

I made my way downstairs and to the door, where I just pulled my vans on, grabbed my bag and had a quick scan inside to make sure I had everything including my wallet, keys, iphone and my glasses.

I was pretty content that I'd got everything and that I'd tidied Bill's place up accordingly so left the house after setting the alarm and locking the door behind me.

I'd driven over here yesterday so my white Audi was parked up and waiting for my entry.

I unlocked my car and hopped right in, dumping my bag on the passenger seat.

I belted up and pressed the button to start my car, seeing as it was a keyless start. I got into gear and began the long descent back onto the road, eager to get home.

I'd been back and forth to Bill's place over the last month and it was starting to feel pointless paying rent for such a gorgeous apartment when all I did was stay at his.

I pulled up to my apartment complex, parking in one of my designated spots and locked my car up once I'd grabbed my bag.

I punched in the code and opened the door to the building, entering the foyer where I collected my post.

I mindlessly flipped through the envelopes, scrunching my nose up at the sheer amount of junk mail I'd received.

I climbed up the stairs to my floor, where only my apartment was and shoved the key into the lock, happy to be home.

I kicked my shoes off, dumped the post and my bag on the kitchen counter which happened to be around the corner from my front door and also threw my keys down next to the items.

My apartment was in pristine condition, mostly because I liked to keep it tidy because I was a slight neat freak. It worked out pretty well for me though, because Bill was the same.

I flopped onto my couch, grabbing my MacBook from the glass coffee table and placing it onto of my folded legs, logging onto my account and almost immediately pulling my emails up since I’d neglected them pretty bad.

I flicked through the junk emails, sending them straight to trash folder. Most of them were pretty standard, a few asking of my availability for the rest of the year but one in particular caught my eye.

The name was unfamiliar and the subject merely said ‘an interview with the hottest couple of 2016’ and my heart sank just at reading those words, but it was nothing compared to the actual email itself;

An invitation to Miss Mya Williams,

We hope you are able to join us at our Beverly Hill studio to participate in an interview that delves deep into the reality of dating one of the biggest upcoming actors of the year, we would be delighted if both yourself and Bill Skarsgard could attend and reveal all to us and your fans.

I hope to hear from you in the upcoming days,

Lizzie Sharp Entertainment Central

My mouth was agape and my heart was beating so aggressively against my chest, why would this reporter lady want to interview Bill and I over being a couple when there was literally no proof or anything out there to suggest that we were more than friends.

We were so careful about doing anything on the set of the last television show we worked together on, that ceased filming a few days ago. I don’t know if Lizzie was working with information that had sprung from rumours, since Bill had gotten big, the public were interested in his personal life, specifically his love life and people were quick to pin me to him.

I hastily sent the email to the junk folder, where it was going to lay dormant with he rest until I went on a deleting spree.

If I didn’t reply to the email, surely it would all go away, right?

I tried to forget about the strange email, hoping to never receive anything like it again.

I pulled up twitter, signing in and having a mindless scroll through my timeline, favouriting the odd tweet and retweeting a few cool pieces that had some relevance to my life.

I also decided to tackle my mentions, which filled up a lot these days after my work was revealing to the world of critique. I mostly got compliments galore and the odd comment that came from a pre pubescent girl who liked to slate my every move, every breath I took.

After moving to LA I grew a back bone and learnt to take shitty comments on the chin, and because of this grew my delightful personality that consisted of sarcasm and standing up for myself.

I yawned as I weaved through the mentions, not particularly interested.

Well, that was until I came across multiple pictures of myself and Bill spamming my mentions. I rolled my eyes, people loved to be nosey.

Although what I did notice was that it was the same three images across multiple tweets, so I decided to enlarge them and what met my eyes were pictures of myself and Bill looking awfully close.

Sickness overwhelmed me, as did sheer panic.

The first image was of us on set, with me on his back and a huge smile on his face as I whispered something into his ear.

The second was of us walking to the restaurant in Beverly Hills in the other day with his arm thrown over my shoulders.

The final image was of us in the restaurant, taken through the window and we were holding hands.

It didn’t look good for us, and I figured it was better to say nothing than to try and magic up a lie that probably made us look shadier.

I let out a growl and slammed the my laptop shut, throwing it to the side of me and covering my face with my hands.

I knew this would happen, but I thought it’d be easier to deny and it was only a matter of time before the tabloids had the pictures printed in every magazine in America.

The last thing we needed getting out was that we both liked each other and the sheer amount of time we spent together, or to have any more picture taken of us without our knowledge.

To say I was worried was an understatement, being so out there now meant that the press would start digging and the last thing I wanted plastered over the internet was my sad excuse of a life.

I didn’t need anyone to know that I’d dropped out of school and that I hadn’t even wanted to attend college. I didn’t want anyone to know that my parents absolutely hated me for doing these things, I was nothing but an embarrassment to them.

I definitely didn’t need Bill to have to endure the comments that would be thrown at him about my age or my background and it was a blessing that he didn’t have any social media or it was certain that this would have blown up even bigger.

I have no idea how long I was sat on my couch wallowing in self pity but the sound of my phone ringing, along with he vibrations snapped me out of my trance.

I yanked it out of my back pocket taking a quick glance at the caller ID, almost shouting out in frustration at the sight of Bill’s name.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer it, so speedily pressed the reject button on the screen.

There was pure silence for a minute before it rang again, flashing up once more with his name. I knew that he’d keep calling if i didn’t pick up, he was the most persistent man I’ve ever met.

“What’s up?” I breathed, running a hand down my face.

“Oh, hey. I’ve just finished with my meeting, are you ready?” He asked, most obviously speaking to me over the speaker in his car.

“Erm, no. I don’t feeling like going out anyway, feel free to head back home.” I excused, the thought of being pictured out together again making my head spin with anxiety.

“Why not? You love going to Target, you were so up for it this morning… is something wrong?” I could almost imagine him frowning in confusion, because it was true, I fucking loved Target.

“I just don’t feel brilliant, Bill. Look, I’ll talk to you later, bye.” I spoke in a rush, hanging up the phone and dropping back into the cushions of my couch.

Tears spilled over and I sobbed quietly, more overwhelmed than anything.

I didn’t move to LA to become the focus of every gossip magazine, I came to escape my old life. This wasn’t what I wanted, I just wanted to work and be happy.

I merely wanted to be left alone, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Bill was the only person who knew almost everything about me, he was the one person I knew who would catch me if I fell.

A knock at my door pulled me away from the darkness that was just my thoughts and I wiped the tears from under my eyes, sniffling and breathing deeply before hopping up from the couch and plastering on a smile ready for whoever was on the other side of the door.

I twisted the inside lock and pulled it open, cursing at myself for not checking through the spy hole before opening the door.

“What are you doing here? I told you I didn’t feel like going out.” I muttered, leaving Bill at the door and walking into my kitchen.

I heard him close the door behind him and he followed me, and I could feel him watching my every move as I leant on my sink and looked out of the window in front of me.

“You sounded upset on the phone and I’m not an idiot.” He remarked, his presence strong behind me.

I made a face and gritted my teeth.

“You’re an idiot if you forgot how to use your key and let yourself in.” I whispered to myself, watching as the sun moved behind the clouds.

“What’s up with you? You were fine this morning, right until I left. Now I’ve finished my meeting and you have no interest in being around me, and I can’t figure out why.”

I span around harshly, taking him off guard.

“I told you to be careful with what you did in public, the hand holding, the cuddling! Now the press have got photos of us and they’re all over the fucking internet and I have people emailing me asking for interviews, I knew this would happen, I told you that people would start speculating!” I yelled at him, his eyes widening at my sudden tone of voice.

“What pictures? You need to get a grip, Mya! We take one step forward and two back and I specifically remember telling you to not worry and just let people speculate. We’re the only people who need to be involved in our business, it's our own business.” He spoke back, making me roll my eyes.

“It’s not even speculation that’s the problem, Bill. It’s the fact that people have confirmation that there’s something going on between us, and I don’t know what to do about it.” I spoke, my voice cracking and more tears threatening to fall.

Bill let out a prolonged breath and advanced towards me with his arms outstretched, they wrapped around me like a shield.

“There’s nothing you can do, or that you need to do. But I think it's time to face the facts or maybe our feelings in this case." Bill murmured into my hair.

I nodded against him, my face buried into his neck.

Now was the time.

"I'm pretty damn sure that I'm in love with you." I admitted against the skin of his neck.

"Well that's good then, because I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you to." He replied, pushing me back gently and holding my face between his hands.

I looked up at him and once our eyes met I felt every ounce of hurt, upset and anger leave my body.

He rested his forehead against mine and pressed a kiss to my lips, it was gentle, like a feather touching you for a second.

I kissed him back and let my arms go up around his neck, so grateful to be in his arms.

He pulled back for a second and I almost let out a whimper at the loss of contact.

"Be my girlfriend, wife, whatever. I just know that I need you, all of you." Bill revealed and I nodded.

"Can we not say anything to the press? or to anyone, just not yet." I asked, touching his full bottom lip with mine.

"Whatever you want." He whispered, grasping my face harder and crushing his lips on mine.

This was it.

This was official.

Friends with benefits didn't really work out the way I planned but I think it was for the best and now all feelings, secrets and confessions are out there.

I just hope nothing ruins it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

- Hey everyone, I’m so thankful for your patience with me and I’m so glad to finally have this chapter up. I hope you enjoy this filler and there will be more tomorrow :) Also thank you for your wishes of wellness, they’re very much appreciated 😘

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgård imagine #hemlock grove #roman godfrey

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magzoso-tech · 5 years

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New Post has been published on https://magzoso.com/tech/snapchat-will-launch-bitmoji-tv-a-personalized-cartoon-show/

Snapchat will launch Bitmoji TV, a personalized cartoon show

Snapchat’s most popular yet under-exploited feature is finally getting the spotlight in 2020. Starting in February with a global release, your customizable Bitmoji avatar will become the star of a full-motion cartoon series called Bitmoji TV. It’s a massive evolution for Bitmoji beyond the chat stickers and comic strip-style Stories where they were being squandered to date.

Creating original in-house shows for its Discover section that can’t be copied could help Snapchat differentiate from the plethora of short-form video platforms out there ranging from YouTube to Facebook Watch to TikTok. Bitmoji TV could also up the quality of Discover, which still feels like a tabloid magazine rack full of scantly clad women, gross-out imagery, and other shocking content merely meant to catch the eye and draw a click.

[embedded content]

With Bitmoji TV, your avatar and those of your friends will appear in regularly-scheduled adventures ranging from playing the crew of Star Treky spaceship to being secret agents to falling in love with robots or becoming zombies. The trailer Snapchat released previews an animation style reminiscent of Netflix’s Big Mouth.

TechCrunch asked Snap for more details, including how long episodes will be, how often they’ll be released, whether they’ll include ads, and if the company acquired anyone or brought on famous talent to produce the series. A Snap spokesperson declined to provide more details, but sent over this statement: “Bitmoji TV isn’t available in your network yet, but stay tuned for the global premiere soon!”

The Snapchat Show page for Bitmoji TV notes it is coming in February 2020. Users can visit here on mobile to subscribe to Bitmoji TV so it shows up prominently on their Discover page, or turn on notifications about its new content.

Snap realizes Bitmoji’s value

Snap has had a tough few years as many of its core features have been ruthlessly copied by the Facebook family of apps. Instagram Stories killed Snap’s growth for years and effectively stole the broadcast medium from its inventor. Facebook also ramped up it augmented reality selfie filters, added more ephemeral messaging features, and launched Watch as a competitor to Snapchat Discover.

Two years ago I wrote that Facebook was crazy not to be competing with Bitmoji too. Six months later we were first to report Facebook Avatars was in the works, and this year they launched as Messenger chat stickers in Australia with plans for a global release in 2019 or early 2020. But Facebook’s slow movement here, Google’s half-assed entry, and Twitter’s lack of an attempt have given Snapchat’s Bitmoji a massive headstart. And now Snap is finally leveraging it.

“TV” is actually a return to Bitmoji’s roots. The startup Bitstrips originally offered an app for customizing the face, hair, clothes, and more of your avatar and then creating comic strips for them to appear in. Snap acquired Bitstrips back in 2016 for just $64.2 million — a steal not far off from Facebook snatching Instagram for under a billion. The standalone Bitmoji app blew up as soon as Snapchat began offering the avatars as chat stickers. It had over 330 million downloads as of April according to Sensor Tower despite Snapchat now letting you create your avatar in its main app.

Eventually, Snap began expanding Bitmoji’s uses. In 2017 Bitmoji went 3D and you could start overlaying them as augmented reality characters on your Snaps. The next year Snap improved their graphics, then launched the Snap Kit developer platform and Bitmoji Kit. This allows apps to build atop Snapchat login and use your Bitmoji as a profile pic. Soon they were appearing as Fitbit smart watch faces, alongside your Venmo transaction, and on Snapchat-sold merchandise from t-shirts to mugs. It’s part of a wise strategy to beat copycats by allowing allies to use real thing rather than building their own knock-off. That’s fueled the “Snapback” comeback which has seen Snap’s share price climb out of the gutter at $5.79 at the start of 2019 to $16.09 now.

One of Snap smartest innovations was Bitmoji Stories — the ancestor to Bitmoji TV. These daily Stories let you tap frame-by-frame through short comic strip-style interactions starring your avatar. Occasionally Bitmoji Stories would include rudimentary animation, but most frames were still images with text bubbles. Bitmoji could once again drive a narrative, rather than just being a communication tool. Still, they seem underutilized.

In 2019, Snapchat wised up. Bitmoji have become nearly ubiquitous amongst teens and Snapchat’s 210 million daily users. They’re the Google or Kleenex of cartoonish personalized avatars. Their goofy nature is also a perfect fit for Snapchat, and a reason they’re tough for stiffer and older tech giants to convincingly copy.

In April, Snap announced its new games platform inside its messaging feature that let you play as your Bitmoji against friends’ avatars in games ranging from Mario Party ripoff Bitmoji Party to tennis, shoot-em ups, and cooking competitions. Snap injects ads into the games, making Bitmoji key to its efforts to monetize its central messaging use case. Last month it launched custom and branded clothing for Bitmoji, which could open opportunities to earn money selling premium outfits or showing off brand sponsorships.

To truly take advantage of Bitmoji’s unique popularity, though, Snap needed to build longer-form experiences with the avatars at the center that . Stickers and Stories and games were fun, but none felt like must-see content. With Bitmoji TV, Snap may have found a way to get users to drag their friends into the app. Since everyone sees their own Bitmoji as the star, the cartoons could be more compelling then ones with impersonal characters you might find elsewhere around the web.

But Bitmoji TV’s success will depend largely on the quality of the writing. If your avatar is constantly getting into funny, meme-worthy situations, you’ll keep coming back to watch. But Snap’s teen audience has a keen nose for inauthentic bullsh*t. If the Shows feel forced, too childish, or boring, Bitmoji TV will flop. Snap would be savvy to invest in great Hollywood talent to produce the episodes.

High quality Bitmoji TV shorts could rescue Snapchat Discover from its own mediocrity. There are a few strong brands like ESPN SportsCenter on the platform, and Snap has several original Shows with over 25 million unique viewers. It’s also greenlit additional seasons of Shows like Dead Girls Detective Agency and new biopic clips from Serena Williams and Arnold Schwarzenegger. Still, a scroll through the Discover and Shows sections reveals plenty of trashy clickbait that surely scares away premium advertisers.

Bitmoji TV could offer video that’s not only fun and snackable, but out of reach for competitors who don’t have a scaled avatar platform of their own. As with the recent launch of Snapchat Cameos, the company has realized that the most addictive experiences center on its users’ own faces. Snapchat turned the selfie into the future of communication. Bitmoji TV could make an animated recreation of your selfie into the future of content.

#Miscellaneous

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auroraphilealis · 8 years

Text

Venus’s Looking Glass

Venus’s Looking Glass | Shy!punk!Phil has been crushing on confident!pastel!Dan for years now, but he’s never felt comfortable enough to do anything about it until he accidentally comes out to his brother Martyn, who is nothing but supportive. It’s Martyn’s idea to woo Dan with flowers - only, he didn’t mean do it anonymously. | Phan | Teen and Up | punk/pastel, secret admirer au, coming out, supportive brothers, mentions of sexual things | 12,142 Words

Happy birthday to the wonderful @cosmicphandom2k16, my literal phan mum! Your comments and messages always make me smile, and you are the kindest of kind souls! I just wanted to make you smile on your birthday, so I’m hoping this will do the trick! I’m also purposely posting while you’re asleep because I want you to wake up Monday morning and have this sat waiting for you! Also, on that note, happy mother's day mama phan!! I hope your family took great care of you <333</p>

Thank you to @vanillasolitude for the idea and the endless supply of flower images that I literally stole from you :) also thank you so much to @phandommother for reassuring me that this was not crap as I worked on it, and giving me so much reassurance and encouragement!

(Ao3 Link)

If anyone were to ask, Phil Lester would deny knowing how he’d ended up on his classmate’s facebook page, quietly and casually stalking their photo’s as if they were old friends, which they were not.

He couldn’t even claim he’d gone off on some kind of late night odyssey, or that he just plain couldn’t sleep, because it wasn’t exactly the middle of the night. In fact, Phil had only just finished eating dinner with his family downstairs. His brother Martyn had spent the majority of the meal teasing Phil about his new tongue piercing and the fact that it had caused his tongue to go all swollen for a few days, effectively embarrassing the hell out of him, and Phil had gone upstairs with the full intention of plugging in some headphones and listening to some tunes until he fell asleep.

It had been an accident when he’d ended up on twitter instead, and then on facebook, and then on Dan Howell’s profile page.

It wouldn’t have been so odd if Phil had, you know, known the guy, but as it was, they weren’t even friends. They were more like casual acquaintances who’d gone to school together for the majority of their lives and who’d added each other on facebook back when friend count was a competition.

Phil knew more about Dan from his facebook profile than he’d probably ever know about him in real life, and he’d only been on it for about ten minutes, now.

Not that he was going to tell anyone that he was not-so-casually stalking the guy, but still. It was kind of embarrassing, wasn’t it? Not something that Phil ever wanted to be caught doing, whether in the privacy of his own room or otherwise. He just kind of… got caught up, that’s all.

It wasn’t as if Phil knew nothing about they guy, either. They were classmates, had been since primary school, so it wasn’t that weird. It was just - Dan was kind of his crush, that’s all, and the last thing Phil wanted anyone to know was who Phil was crushing on. He was enough of a freak in his own right at school, considering the all black ensemble, dyed hair, tattoo’s, and piercings that were enough to scare off most people - he didn’t need everyone knowing he fancied guys on top of that. He dealt with enough whispers behind his back, thank you very much, and until he had someone else to protect from the harsh words, Phil didn’t really want to have to put up with them.

Of course, should Dan return his interest - well, Phil wasn’t going to think about that.

He’d much rather think about the cute little dimple currently flashing in the image on his phone screen, and the way Dan’s eyes looked bright and shiny whenever he smiled. God, Phil loved that smile. He could stare at it every day, given the chance - which he kind of did. They shared a surprising amount of classes at school this year, and Phil had been taking full advantage of the practically open invitation to gawk at the other boy.

He was pretty good at it, too - hiding the gawking, that is. The last thing Phil needed was Dan noticing his staring.

It had happened once before, and it had been disastrous.

Apparently, Dan had assumed Phil was glaring at him, and had stared back with eyes so wide he resembled a terrified doe. The memory of that cringe worthy moment was enough to make Phil shut his eyes and shake his head, even now. He’d been mortified, possibly a little bit heartbroken as well, and Dan hadn’t been able to so much as walk past him for the next three weeks without ducking his head and scurrying by like he thought Phil was going to eat him if he didn’t get out of his way fast enough.

Truth be told, Phil would like to eat him, but not in the way that Dan had assumed.

He’d gotten better, though. He was pretty adept at picking the right seat to stare at Dan from the corner of his eye, and he hadn’t been caught since. Phil was pretty sure his classmates hadn’t noticed the staring either, which was a blessing in and of itself.

If it was true that Phil had learned more about Dan from ten minutes on his facebook profile than he’d ever learned from Dan in person, then it was also definitely true that Phil had noticed more about Dan in person than perhaps anyone else in their school.

In fact, Phil had a little mini catalogue in his mind of Dan-isms, including the way his skin went all blotchy and red when he was embarrassed, and that Dan hated it because the colour would continue to stain his cheeks for a few days afterward. He also knew Dan’s laugh by heart, the sound generally soft but often really loud as well.

Dan himself was really loud, actually, despite his soft exterior, and it was kind of endearing in the strangest of ways.

See, Dan wore all pastel colours; he was the epitome of gentleness and softness. His hair was almost always a curly mass on top of his head, sometimes with flowers interspersed for some colour. He wore sweaters that were always too big on him, or crop tops that showed off his belly, and his skin was a glorious, soft tan.

He was so gentle that it was a surprise every time Phil heard his voice go high and screechy whenever he was excited about something.

Endearing. Dan was endearing, and all Phil really wanted to do was to get know every last aspect about his long time classmate and crush. Which… was honestly what had originally led him to Dan’s facebook profile.

The pictures had just been a bonus, a distraction.

In all honestly, Phil’s hand had been creeping lower and lower down his body the more photos of Dan he clicked through. He’d had his bottom lip trapped between his front teeth for a solid ten minutes, now, and it didn’t seem like that was going to be changing anytime soon.

In fact, given five more minutes, he was certain he was going to -

Dan was just so gorgeous. Phil couldn’t help it. He hadn’t been kidding when he said Dan alternated between clothes that were too big for him, and clothes that technically didn’t quite fit.

Some of Dan’s pictures were particularly provocative as well. Phil had just scrolled passed one of Dan staring up at the camera with those same, wide doe eyes he’d given Phil when Phil had scared him off months ago, and it had done something strange to Phil’s insides.

His breath hitched, and his hand itched lower, a tent starting to form under his jeans, but he kept clicking forward. It felt somehow wrong to wank to pictures of his crush, especially when said crush could go from looking sexy as hell, to the most innocent of flowers in an instant.

Dan was an enigma, in some ways.

Phil could feel his blood pulsing thick behind his ears as he scrolled passed yet another picture of Dan wearing short shorts and stretching out to show off his legs with a group of friends.

He wore a flower crown on his head, blue and red. It was Phil’s favorite one, because he’d complimented it once and managed to make Dan blush, his cheeks mottled for a good three days. He’d felt good, then, like Dan might actually finally take notice of him, but of course, he hadn’t. Instead, Dan had gone another week of avoiding Phil as best he could, and Phil had sighed his regret.

He wasn’t sure if he should take that as a rejection or not, so he just kind of… hadn’t.

His fingers dropped lower still, playing with the waistband on his jeans. He was so, so tempted to just - let go.

But he didn’t, and three seconds later, just as he was flipping through to a photo of Dan with his hair all mussed up from a morning shower, shirt off and fingers gripping his own hair, his bedroom door flew open.

“Philip!” Martyn whined as he sauntered in. At the same moment, Phil dropped his phone on his bed, startled as he was, and yanked his hand back from where it had begun to creep below his jeans. He shuffled backwards, eyes wide, and propped himself up on his bed with his elbows.

“What the hell, Martyn?” he practically screeched, cheeks going red. “What if I’d been masturbating?”

His brother snorted at him and rolled his eyes, shoving Phil’s door shut behind him and plopping down backwards on the bed with him, until he was practically hanging off both ends. Martyn had always been just as tall and lanky as Phil. They never quite fit on the same bed together, and today was no different.

“You weren’t. Were you?” Martyn replied, turning his head and quirking a brow at his brother.

Squirming a bit in embarrassment, Phil shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. His intent was to avoid Martyn realizing that Phil merely nearly had been, but it was too late. Before Phil could even attempt to subtly shift his legs so his brother wouldn’t notice the hard on currently pressed up against the zip of his jeans, Martyn was glancing down and blanching, launching into a fit of hysterics that made Phil’s cheeks turn a bright red.

“Shut up,” Phil whined, crossing his arms over his chest with a little huff.

Martyn reached up to wipe non-existent tears from his eyes, and replied, “Oops. Well, you hadn’t gotten your pants off yet at least.”

Phil didn’t consider that much of a blessing, all things considered just then.

Besides, he hadn’t really been planning on mastrubating. He’d just - you know, gotten a little excited. He couldn’t despoil Dan Howell no matter how much he wanted too.

“Besides,” Martyn suddenly continued. There was a glint in his eye that Phil did not like. “We both know I’ve seen worse,” he continued, and winked. Mortified, Phil was instantly glaring, reaching behind him for a pillow that he instantly launched at Martyn’s head.

“I hate you!” he whined, and grabbed another one for good measure, smashing Martyn in the chest with a loud, embarrassed groan. “I thought we agreed to never speak of that again!”

Martyn merely laughed at him some more, practically cackling and rolling on the bed as Phil smacked him again and again with the pillow. Phil was never going to forget the day Martyn was alluding too, as much as he’d love too.

It was years ago now, when Phil was still attempting to figure out his own sexuality and preferences. Martyn had stumbled upon him experimenting late one night in his bedroom, a back of lube, a condom, and his own fingers pressed somewhere some would argue they shouldn’t be. It had been mortifying, and even now, Phil could feel the blush burning down his chest, too.

With one last groan, Phil slammed the pillow into Martyn’s chest again and left it there, instantly collapsing onto the bed so he was hanging off sideways next to Martyn, though he was on his stomach rather than his back.

“What do you want, anyway?” Phil muttered when Martyn finally quit laughing at Phil’s misfortune.

He didn’t answer. For a moment, Phil didn’t think he would, and he frowned to himself, annoyed that his brother had most likely come in here for no reason once again other than to embarrass the crap out of Phil.

Then Martyn sighed, and the sound was so pitiful that Phil actually frowned as he rolled and turned to peer sideways at him.

There was a grimace pulling at the corners of Martyn’s mouth that Phil did not particularly like seeing there. Reaching over gently, Phil poked his brother in the side, and said, “Come on, talk to me then.”

With a huge, heaving sigh, Martyn rolled over as well, facing Phil like they used to as kids back when they’d kind of sort of fit on the bed together and one of them needed advice on something. His eyes were a little red, like he’d been scrubbing at them. It was enough for any leftover resentment Phil might have at Martyn to fade.

“Cornelia and I’ve been fighting, that’s all,” he eventually sighed. Phil winced, grimacing a little, and rolled over once more until he was on his back and facing the ceiling. “You know how it is. She’s - well, she feels like the romance is dead. To be fair, I haven’t exactly had much time to spend with her since the whole uni thing, you know?”

It was old news to Phil. Martyn had opted to go to the University of Manchester while his girlfriend, Cornelia, had gotten a full ride to York, and they hadn’t seen much of each other in months. Sometimes, Phil could hear Martyn and her fighting through the thin walls of their bedrooms, often into the middle of the night, and he always did his best to not bring it up the next day. In fact, they had yet to talk about Martyn’s recent relationship problems, and Phil was kind of surprised it had taken him so long to come to him.

“Yeah. I reckon it’s pretty hard,” he agreed quietly, unable to help it as his mind flicked back to thoughts of Dan. He’d been trying so long just to get his attention… shoving those thoughts aside, Phil did his best to focus on his brother and his real relationship problems. “But - I mean, she’ll come around, right? She’s got to know that you’re both really busy right now.”

Martyn sighed, but otherwise didn’t respond for a moment. Phil could hardly blame him. If only life could be so simple.

“I don’t know. I hope so,” he eventually agreed, and sat up. “But enough of that. That’s not actually why I came in here. I was hoping you’d wanna hang out or something?” Martyn offered, an unsure smile starting to curve the corner of his lips. “I realize I - interrupted you, but I’d rather not be alone right now.”

They must have been fighting earlier, then, and Phil had been too distracted to notice.

Doing his best to hide the blush that was slowly starting to heat his cheeks once more, Phil sat up as well and shoved his brother.

“Shut up. It’s fine. We could play mario kart or something, if you wanted,” Phil offered, standing with a yawn to get the system booted up. There was nothing like a quick round of mario kart to distract you from all of your problems, after all, and it was their go to thing to do in situations like these.

“Sounds great,” Martyn agreed easily enough. Phil smiled, and turned away to stretch, ignoring the sounds of his brother shifting around on his bed to instead go and actually find the controllers for his wiiu. He had a bad habit of tossing them on the ground after a late night gaming session.

He’d just unearthed the wiiu gamepad from under a black t-shirt when Martyn suddenly piped up behind him, sounding rather - odd.

“Who’s this?”

The question shouldn’t have been strange at all. It wasn’t all that unusual for the two of them to pick up each other’s phones and use them, especially when they were hanging out in each other’s rooms. More often than not, Martyn would open Phil’s social media apps and ask weird questions about the people Phil followed. But today… today was a very different situation because the last thing Phil had been looking at had been a shirtless Dan Howell, and the last thing Martyn knew Phil to be “doing,” was masturbating.

Phil’s blood ran cold, and he froze in place, terrified to turn around and take in the expression on his brother’s face. If his voice wasn’t giving anything away, Phil was certain his face would.

Swallowing thickly, Phil weighed up his options. How was he going to deal with this? Try and brush it off as nothing? Probably.

So Phil turned with the intention of doing just that, only to freeze in place once again as he realized that his brother was scrolling through Dan’s photos, and - well, as Phil had said earlier. Quite a few of them were… rather provocative.

Generally speaking, Martyn and Phil were pretty close. They told each other everything, often knowing each other’s secrets before anyone else did, but this was one secret Phil had been terrified to tell.

He swallowed and crossed his arms over his chest. The muscles there twitched.

Martyn wasn’t even looking at him.

“A friend,” he tried to claim, setting his teeth and playing with the tiny barbell tongue piercing Martyn had been making fun of at dinner against the back of his teeth. It was a much needed distraction.

“A friend,” Martyn repeated. His voice was so calm, it gave away none of what he was feeling.

Phil flinched. He didn’t particularly like that. They so rarely froze each other out, and it was kind of setting Phil’s nerves on fire. His brother was a good guy, and he’d always been supportive, it was just - for all that Phil had imagined coming out to his brother, it hadn’t been like this.

If nothing else, he knew Martyn must be shocked.

Phil’s hands were shaking. What if this was more than just shock?

“Yeah,” he reiterated, trying to keep his voice from shaking too. Slowly, he reached out with his hand and tried to snatch his phone away from Martyn. “Just this guy I know, I -”

“Phil,” Martyn interrupted. He still hadn’t looked up, and his fingers were poised over a picture of Dan smiling, dimple popping, with a group of his friends, a pink flower crown settled on top of his wild mass of curls. “You - you know I don’t - it’s fine if, like… Phil,” Martyn said, trailing off and finally, finally looking up at him.

His expression was carefully guarded, clearly taken aback, but not - but not angry in anyway.

Some part of Phil, some tight thing in his chest, uncoiled just like that, and while he couldn't fully relax, there could be no doubt about the relief coursing through him just then. Martyn might not have been able to say it, but - that was good. This was good. It was going to be okay.

Except it wasn’t going to be okay, not really, because Phil was terrified. He didn’t even know what he was, let alone how to describe it to anyone else, and he wasn’t really ready for this conversation no matter how understanding his brother might be.

He dug his nails into the palm of one hand, and gestured with the fingers of the for Martyn to hand over his phone already.

“I know,” he agreed, voice tense. “Just - he’s just a friend. Now give me my phone,” Phil insisted.

After another hesitant moment, Martyn finally did so, though it was clear the action was reluctant.

For a moment, Phil thought that would be the end of it. Martyn was biting his bottom lip like he didn’t want to pry, which Phil sincerely hoped he wouldn’t, and Phil was doing all that he could to avoid his gaze all together. He fiddled with his phone, quickly exiting Dan’s facebook page and then the app altogether before giving in and just shutting his phone off. He was still shaking, horrified that he’d been caught out. Tears burned at the backs of his eyes.

“Phil,” Martyn said then, interrupting his train of thought. He dropped a hand on to Phil’s shoulder that once would have been comforting, but just then made Phil want to crawl under a rock.

“What?”

“You know it’s okay if you’re like… gay, or whatever, right?” his brother finally managed to get out. “No one - no one here’s going to judge you, least of all me, and -”

“I’m not,” Phil shot back, interrupting Martyn completely. He looked up with burning eyes, and tried to hide the emotion behind a stilted glare. “I told you, he’s just a friend!”

Martyn gave him a knowing look, and Phil felt his shoulder’s beginning to sag in defeat. The last thing he wanted to do was cry about this, so he wiped furiously at his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not… exactly,” he finally gave in. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as he dragged his hands away from his face and stared up at Martyn. “I’m - I don’t know what I am, okay? I just, you know… Like this guy, so can we please just drop it?” he finally requested, his voice going a little high, a little squeaky, the way it always did when he was stressed.

“It’s not a big deal,” he added for good measure, “It’s not. Okay? I just - you know. I was going to tell you,” he claimed, shoving his now turned off into his back pocket so his brother couldn’t go through any more of his stuff. He could still feel the embarrassment making cheeks red, and it really wasn’t helping the terrified part of him that just wanted to drop this entire conversation already. “It’s not a big deal,” he repeated once more for good measure, and met his brothers eyes again.

Martyn just started at him, expression soft and understanding. He reached out to clasp Phil’s shoulder again, squeezed once, and then let go.

“Okay,” he finally replied. “So… mario kart?”

It wasn’t until several hours later, in the wee hours of the morning, that Martyn brought it up again.

Phil could just see the red numbers of his alarm clock declaring the time to be 4:54 am. He was royally fucked for school tomorrow.

“So about this guy,” Martyn said, nonchalant as ever, just as he shot a blue shell at Phil and sent him skittering off the mario kart track they were currently playing and down to his death. Groaning loudly, Phil shoved him with his shoulder.

“Cheater,” he whined, and then, “What guy?”

The blue shell had dropped him back into fourth place, now, and it wasn’t even Martyn who’d taken the lead. He liked to call this position the cluster fuck of items, as there were boomerangs and red shells flying aplenty.

He needed to work his way back up before he got royally screwed and ended up in tenth place or something.

Somehow, Phil managed to slip on a banana peel that just so happened to land directly in front of his kart, and he groaned all over again, shoving the wiimote into his cheek painfully hard.

“Well, for starters, are you actually friends?” Martyn continued, as if he hadn’t just fucked up Phil’s entire game plan. “Because I’ve never heard you talk about him before, and I’d suspect I would have heard of him before now if you were,” Martyn continued, taking his own leisurely stroll past the computer currently in second place, until he was nearly in the lead himself.

Phil grunted in response, trying to maintain his focus as his kart was re settled on the track and the wiimote returned to his hands. He didn’t really want to talk about this right now. His heart had only now stopped racing since Martyn had accidentally found out about Dan a few hours earlier in the first place.

“No,” he finally admitted, gritting his teeth as he raced past the kart in seventh place and up a wall to collect an item box. The little tinkling sound distracted him for a moment, and he pressed the trigger button instantly upon receiving the much loved bullet bill.

Martyn hardly seemed to notice at all.

“Well, you’re an idiot then. Have you ever even talked to him?” Martyn accused, settling in just behind the first place Mario comp with a yawn as someone sent a blue shell flying his way. Phil grit his teeth as Mario fell behind, and he barely managed to drop off in fourth place thanks to the bullet bill.

“Can we please not talk about this right now?” he demanded.

Martyn, as usual, ignored him.

“I’m taking that as a no,” he replied, just as the finish line came into sight and Phil grabbed another item box containing - yet another blue shell.

He shot it off as just the same time as Martyn went to cross the finishing line, chanting “Come on, come on, come on - no!” right up until the moment Martyn managed to finish the race in first place, rendering Phil’s blue shell null and void.

He groaned once more and threw his wiimote on the floor, deciding he didn’t care anymore if he came in last now, not when he’d come so close to knocking Martyn back a few places.

“Shut up,” he whined, flopping backwards, his back just hitting the side of his bed.

Martyn grinned at him.

“If you don’t talk to him, you know you’re never going to get a chance with the guy, right?”

Phil grabbed a pillow off of his bed and smacked Martyn in the face again.

“No, but really, Phil. Grow a pair of balls before someone else does and snatches the poor guy up. He is rather cute, isn’t he?”

“Are you still on about this?” Phil asked with a loud groan. They’d play a few more rounds of mario kart before Phil’s alarm had inevitably gone off, and he’d stood to start getting ready for school. University student as he was, Martyn didn’t have class until three that afternoon, and didn’t look like he had any plans to move from in front of Phil’s television any time soon.

Phil had honestly thought his brother was finally going to let the whole Dan thing go after he’d smacked him in the face again, but clearly he’d been wrong.

“Duh,” Martyn shot back. “When was the last time you were actually interested in someone? Was it Karly with a K? That girl you wrote love letters to and then tried to give a bouquet of flowers too until she -”

“Okay, alright, that’s enough! Yes, it was Karly with a K, and I hardly see how that’s relevant!” Phil shot back, cutting Martyn off before he could bring up anymore memories that Phil really didn’t want to think about just then. He was trying to shove his t-shirt over his head, but a piece of thread had apparently gotten caught on one of his earrings, and his voice had come out so muffled he wondered if Martyn had even heard him.

The fact that he kept on talking implied no.

“ - she was a nasty one, wasn’t she. Hey! I’ve got an idea!” Martyn suddenly exclaimed. It must have been a good one as well, because he actually dropped the wiimote in the middle of the race to instead get up and help Phil untangle his t-shirt from around his head.

“The flowers clearly didn’t work on her, but they’ll definitely work on your flower boy! I bet he makes his own flower crowns. If you just picked a few flowers for him, that might at least get some conversation flowing between you too. What do you think?”

“I’ll think about it,” Phil snapped back, but he most definitely wasn’t going to do it.

He was going to do it. Kind of.

Phil had a plan, and it most definitely involved giving Dan Howell flowers, only - well, Phil was too terrified to do it himself, exactly.

So he had a plan, and that plan involved stealing Mrs. Grinachu’s blue starlets, the prettiest flowers Phil had ever seen, next to Dan. Was that cheesy? Probably, but considering Phil had been fully against the idea of ever giving Dan anything in the first place before he’d caught sight of the tiny little flowers, he supposed he was allowed to be cheesy.

Not five minutes since Phil had left the house for school, he was back and reaching for a pair of scissors from the kitchen cupboard. It was just his luck that Martyn decided to take that exact same moment to come racing down the stairs and into the kitchen as well.

Both boys froze as Martyn appeared in the doorway.

“What are you doing, baby brother?” Martyn asked, confused. “Didn’t you just leave?”

“Yeah,” Phil replied, straightening up a little awkwardly considering he was hiding the pair of scissors behind his back. “I just - forgot… something,” he claimed, going to turn away and taking the scissors with him.

He didn’t quite manage to shoot passed his brother Martyn, though he did try his best. Before he could get fully past Martyn, his brother reached out and snatched hold of his wrist, dragging him around until he caught hold of Phil’s other wrist as well only to reveal the scissors Phil was holding.

Going red all over again, Phil tried his best to shoot his brother a glare. “Hey!” he complained, “Let me go. I’m going to go be late for school!” he complained, trying to be appear even just a tiny bit threatening, but it had been a long time since his scraggly appearance had scared off Martyn, if it ever had in the first place.

Martyn, for his part, merely rolled his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter how many tattoo’s or piercings you have, Phil Lester. I am never going to be intimidated by you.”

He was grinning though, and Phil had no doubt it had everything to do with the pair of scissors he’d been caught red handed with. Martyn quirked a brow at him.

“Going to give flower boy some flowers, then?”

“Fuck off,” Phil said.

He ended up leaving them on Dan’s seat in maths, a fistful of the cutest blue flowers Phil had ever seen quite deliberately left on the cold plastic of Dan’s chair.

Not ready to be outed once again by his crush on Dan, Phil snuck into the classroom early, before anyone else could arrive, hoping he’d get away with leaving behind his present. He very nearly did get away with at as well, but just as he was turning away from Dan’s desk, the classroom door opened once again to reveal their teacher.

Phil froze for a moment, staring wide eyed and disbelieving at Mr. Cray, fear burbling away in his stomach all over again. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides, and he was just about to turn around and snatch the flowers backup to save himself the embarrassment when Mr. Cray cleared his throat and offered Phil a clam grin.

“Morning,” he greeted, nonchalant as ever, and made his way over to his desk. Phil watched him go, disbelieving for a moment. Surely, he couldn’t be that lucky? He’d been caught out, red handed, giving flowers to a boy…Was he imagining the way Mr. Cray’s lips quirked up in a mimic of a smile?

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Phil finally got his legs moving again, and rushed over to his own seat, shaking and hiding his expression behind a dark fringe as the bell for break to end rang and students began to pour into the classroom.

All that was left then, was to wait. There was a buzz of adrenaline prickling under Phil’s skin that he did his best to hide, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from tapping his fingers.

Dan was never the first to class, but neither was he usually the last. He was perfectly punctual, and he always came in laughing with a group of friends. Today, though - today, Dan was most decidedly late.

For the whole of the ten minutes before class officially started, Phil waited anxiously in his seat, heart racing so fast he couldn’t seem to keep himself from shaking his leg in agitation and an attempt to release some of his pent up frustration, but Dan didn’t show. Instead, nearly every one of his other classmates traipsed through the door and sent curious looks over at the small bunch of flowers Phil had left on Dan’s chair.

There was excited murmuring and chatter as more and more students settled in, wondering who on earth could have left the flowers, but none of their comments mattered to Phil. All he really card about was Dan’s reaction.

Would the other boy like the flowers? Had Phil left the stem’s long enough for Dan to do anything with? Would Dan even want to make a flower crown out of them, or were they too likely to die too fast to wear? Phil didn’t know, but he wanted to know, and when Dan didn’t appear when Phil thought he would, he started to panic.

Maybe Dan wasn’t even going to be in class that day. After all, Phil hadn’t seen him yet that afternoon. What was he meant to do if Dan didn’t show up? He couldn’t exactly leave the flowers there for the next class, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get up and remove them himself considering he didn’t want anyone to know it had been him, so what was he going to do?

Phil was just about to launch himself out of his seat and excuse himself to the bathroom just as the bell for the start of class went when the classroom door flew open one last time, and a disarrayed Dan Howell flew inside.

“Sorry I’m late!” he shot at the teacher. “Had a doctors appointment, but I’m here now,” he explained, handing over a little slip of paper from administration before heading straight for his seat.

It was obvious the moment Dan saw the flowers, because up to a point, he looked so harried Phil was terrified he wouldn’t notice them in time and would end up sitting on them instead of picking them up. Phil’s heart rate had returned to a ridiculous trot in his chest, and his body was still tensed to flee, but he didn’t move, anxious and waiting.

When Dan’s gaze finally landed on the flowers, he looked so taken aback that Phil didn’t know what to do.

What if he hated them, or thought it was some kind of prank? What if he demanded to know who had left them there, or tossed them in the bin when Phil had so carefully stolen them just that morning?

But he didn’t. Instead, the expression of surprise quickly melted into something softer and sweeter, Dan’s cheeks doing that mottled pink thing they did when he blushed. His fingers shook as he reached for the probably too long stems, and picked them up gently, as gently as he did just about anything.

Phil’s heart was in his throat.

“Who -?” Dan started to ask, glancing around the room, his eyes skipping right over Phil like he was still too afraid to look at him. He didn’t finish his statement, instead shaking his head and turning back to the front of the room as he slipped into his seat.

That’s when Phil heard it - the faintest sound of a little giggle. His heart burst open then, and he practically melted, watching as Dan shoved his face into his hands and shook his head like he couldn't quite believe it.

“So?” Martyn asked the second Phil walked through the door, practically dead on his feet from lack of sleep. “How did it go?”

Phil didn’t answer, but he couldn’t quite manage to hide the way his lips twitched remembering the way Dan had later stuck the tiny little petals into his hair in a makeshift flower crown that afternoon at lunch.

Martyn laughed and clapped Phil on the shoulder.

“Good for you!” he said.

It turned out Mrs. Grinachu was rather useful after all. She had a rather spectacular garden in her front yard that Phil hadn’t really paid attention to before now, and the flowers were all pretty much the same size as the blue starlets from yesterday.

His fingers were twitching in his pocket, where he’d shoved the same pair of scissors from home just that morning on the off chance he might see another set of flowers he wanted to give to Dan. He hadn’t exactly… okay, so he had planned to woo Dan with flowers every day, but he hadn’t exactly expected it to be so easy.

Mrs. Grinachu’s garden was right there though, and Phil could just about see these really pretty pink flowers he thought he’d seen Dan wear before just there, staring at him like they wanted him to take them.

So he did, with a few quick, precise snips to a bunch at the front of the bush he was currently hiding behind, and then he scurried off to school once more.

He didn’t quite count his lucky stars that he’d be the first to maths again, or that he’d manage to sneak the flowers onto Dan’s seat when he knew there was going to be at least one person keeping their eye out for Dan’s secret admirer, so he didn’t even try. Instead, e kept the small bunch of flowers carefully tucked away in his folder, and waited until the perfect moment to tape them to Dan’s locker instead.

Unfortunately, said moment did not come before maths, and Phil watched as Dan walked in, looking rather hopeful, only to find that his seat was empty. The sight stabbed at Phil’s heart until he was sorely tempted to stand up right then and there and just go ahead and hand the flowers over in person instead, but he refrained.

He did, however, use that lesson as an excuse to sneak away to the “bathroom,” and, after making certain that no one was looking, pulled the flowers from his folder and taped them along the locker Phil knew beyond a doubt belonged to Dan.

He didn’t quite get the chance to enjoy Dan’s expression of happy surprise once again, but he did notice the little bunch of flowers more securely strapped to Dan’s bag on his way home that afternoon.

Phil’s heart did a strange little flip, and he hid his own giddy smile in his hand.

On Friday, Phil stole a purple flower called “venus’s looking glass” from Mrs. Grinachu’s garden, conveniently labeled for Phil’s perusal, and managed to sneak it into Dan’s bag to find when he got home that weekend. He gave himself a congratulatory pat on the back for a job well done, and continued on with his day.

For the past three days, Dan had looked happier than he ever did, and Phil couldn’t help hoping it was because of him. Dan was always rather cheery, so it was hard to see a difference, but Phil noticed it. He had an extra spring in his step, and he laughed harder and louder than he normally did, like he just couldn’t quite manage to keep the giddiness in.

His cheeks were a constant, stained pink as well, and Phil actually caught the other male looking his way on more than one occasion, but Phil hadn’t reacted in the least. He’d stared back for less than a millisecond each time before continuing on his way, as if nothing had ever happened in the first place.

He wasn’t sure if Dan would still be so excited about his flowers if he knew it was Phil who’d been gifting them to him, but he could hope. If nothing else, the way Dan looked at him, like he was scrutinizing him, had given him enough hope.

Maybe, it would be okay.

Venus’s looking glass is my favorite flower, how did you know?

The words were printed clear as day across Phil’s phone screen. He was almost ashamed to admit that he’d been ever so cautiously stalking Dan’s social media mentions since Friday afternoon, and it had taken until Saturday night for Dan to post anything about the purple flowers Phil had snuck away in his bag.

It had ended up being a tweet. Phil had kind of been hoping for a facebook post, maybe an instagram of Dan wearing them somewhere, but a tweet would do. In fact, the tweet was everything, and made something strange wriggle around in Phil’s stomach to see that he’d done something right.

His favorite.

Somehow, Phil had gotten lucky enough to pick out Dan’s favorite flower from Mrs. Grinachu’s garden, and he was ever so tempted to head out and steal another one just for good measure. Maybe he could give it to Dan on Monday, and maybe, if he was brave enough, he might actually present it to him person.

The thought sent a nervous chill through Phil, and he grinned as he not so secretly pressed “like” on the tweet.

“How’s everything going, baby brother?” Martyn asked, quite suddenly appearing beside Phil as he plopped down on the sofa next to him.

Cornelia had come over for the weekend. She’d arrived Friday morning, apparently visiting from York, and Phil hadn’t exactly been able to stay in his room since. He didn’t blame them, though, despite being a little bit annoyed that it was too embarrassing to sleep in his bed when he knew exactly what was going on a room over.

He done his homework in the kitchen, spent the night on the sofa, and kept quite clear of the upstairs since last night’s dinner.

He was honestly kind of surprised to find Martyn out of bed.

“Nothing,” he replied, shutting off his phone screen and turning back to the tv show he’d put on earlier to distract himself from waiting for Dan to post something, anything.

Phil was careful not to turn and look at his brother, who he was sure was covered in an array of hickies. He’d seen enough of that to last him a life time.

Martyn snorted at him, and smacked him on the back of the head. Phil did nothing more than grumble.

Martyn stretched his legs out with a sigh and a rather pleasing joint crack.

“How are things going with flower boy?” he eventually asked through a yawn.

Phil rolled his eyes.

“His name’s Dan. And fine,” he replied.

“Talked to him yet?”

Phil squirmed in his seat.

Martyn laughed again. “Come on, baby bro. Get a move on already. What are you afraid of?” he asked.

Everything, Phil decided.

On Monday, there was a cluster of pretty orange wallflowers Martyn’s girlfriend had bought for him in a show of solidarity, on Tuesday there were some sunflowers Phil managed to steal last minute just outside of the track and field, and on Wednesday he arrived at school with something bright pink and cuter even than the blue starlets Phil had picked out that first day. He was quite creative with where he left them as well - the wallflowers appeared in a class that Dan and Phil did not share, the sunflowers were left on top of Dan’s gym bag, and the bright pink flowers Phil rather dangerously left on a little platform just outside of the school parameters where Phil knew Dan walked past on his way home every day. Those, he might have stuck around to make sure ended up with the right person, and he was pleased to see the way Dan’s eyes lit up as he picked them up.

“He still didn’t speak to Dan, though, and while the social media mentions increased - i wish you’d tell me who you are; they like me, they like me not...; the drummonds were beautiful thank you; and a rather provocative photo of Dan with a delicate array of some of the surviving flowers from the past week scattered about his bare thighs - Phil did not step forward to reveal himself to Dan.

He was honestly terrified. What if Dan was hoping it was anyone but Phil, or what if, when Phil finally approached him like the plan eventually foretold, he was too intimidated or grossed out by Phil’s rather… eccentric appearance to do anything other than run away?

Phil knew it was probably ridiculous to think like that, because this was Dan, one of the nicest students in the student body, but it wouldn't be the first time he’d scared the poor kid away. The last thing he wanted was to do it again.

The instagram picture, though. Phil couldn’t help wondering what exactly Dan had meant to accomplish with that. All he’d managed to do was give Phil a raging hard on that he was too afraid to do anything with out of some kind of messed up desire to keep Dan pure.

Phil would literally pay the universe five thousands dollars if Dan turned out to be pure in anyway, not when he’d looked at the camera like that.

Phil finally wrote Dan a love note on Friday.

Mrs. Grinachu had another set of flowers labeled scarlet lobelia in her garden that strictly speaking, were gorgeous, just like Dan. Quite unable to restrain himself very much longer with the way Dan kept trying to bait Phil out on instagram with an increased posting of the flowers Phil kept leaving him, Phil scribbled out a note to leave behind with the flowers this time.

Ive never seen a flower more reminiscent of the way you make me feel, it said, with a messy little xoxo at the end, and secret admirer. Phil had drawn a lion for good measure, an attempt at the same lion Phil had tattooed on his upper arm.

It was the first indication that the flowers were actually coming from someone who was interested in Dan, and the first time Phil had given away anything that might tell Dan who he was.

All he could really hope was that Dan would be excited by the hint, and maybe, just maybe, he might realize who Phil was without Phil actually having to approach him.

Maybe this way, if Dan was going to reject him, it would at least be a little more gentle. If nothing else, Phil had tried.

Phil should have known by now that the last thing Martyn was going to do was leave him alone about Dan, so it really should not have come as any surprise to him when Martyn showed up in his room on Sunday, holding Phil’s phone aloft with a goofy little grin.

“I was looking for that,” Phil stated calmly.

He had been. He’d been waiting for Dan to post something about his note since Friday, but he’d yet to get any notifications from any of Dan’s social media accounts, and it was starting to freak him out a little bit.

Had he well and truly messed up after all? Phil didn’t know. Maybe Dan was just busy. That’s what he’d been telling himself, anyway.

“Oh yeah?” Martyn asked, looking like the cat who’d caught that canary. “And why’s that. It’s not like you’ve got Dan’s number or anything. Waiting for something, Philip?”

Eyes narrowed, Phil peered at his brother suspiciously.

“It’s none of your buisness,” he tried.

Martyn snorted.

“You tell me everything, Phil. It’s definitely my business. Look,” he said, and finally tossed Phil his phone. It was open to the instagram app, Dan’s IGN glaring at him from the top of the screen, and there was finally an image laid bare to him.

Dan’s first post of the weekend.

For my lion, the caption read.

The picture was - well, the picture was most definitely not something Phil had been expecting to see.

It was made up of flowers, the same way all of Dan’s instagram pictures were, sure, but there was something more about it. The flowers were spread out over what appeared to be Dan’s bedroom floor, and the picture they made seemed strangely familiar.

It took Phil a few minutes to realize why, but the moment he did, his cheeks went bright pink.

“So. When are you asking him out?”

“Shut up,” Phil squeaked back, and shoved another pillow in his brother's face.

On Monday, Dan showed up wearing baby blue high tops, jean short shorts, and a black crop top with a lion emblazoned across the front in red and gold. On top of his head sat the same red and blue flower crown Phil had first complimented him on so many months back.

It seemed suddenly impossible that the lion Dan had made out of flowers on his bedroom floor that weekend had only coincidentally resembled the one on his arm.

In fact, with the way Dan smiled at him the minute he walked into maths, less than a minute before the final bell that afternoon, said it all, and Phil found himself blushing before he could even think to stop himself.

In his backpack, he’d hidden away a rather delicate red rose whose thorns he’d personally removed, much to the displeasure of his fingertips. He’d hoped to give it to Dan personally that afternoon, but he’d still had the sinking feeling Dan had gotten it all wrong somehow.

Now, as Phil ducked his head rather shyly away from Dan’s gaze, he realized he’d been kind of an idiot this whole time.

All around them, there were exciting murmurings as their classmates waited for something to happen. They’d been staring at Phil pretty much since he’d walked on campus that morning, so Phil knew they knew, just as much as Dan knew, and it was far more terrifying than he’d ever imagined it to be.

He was out, then, and that was - that was. Phil didn’t know. He was too busy trying to calm the butterflies currently having been set free in the pit of his stomach at the idea of Dan actually wanting him back.

Did Dan want him back?

Awkwardly, Phil slid nervously into his own seat, backpack pressed securely to his stomach, like it might hide him from view. Slowly, he peered up at Dan from underneath his dyed blue fringe. He was still staring at him. In face, he was getting up, grinning directly at Phil, his eyes dancing in a way that made Phil’s stomach twist.

Before something could happen, however, the bell for class went. Everyone groaned, disappointed, but none as disappointed as Dan. Phil watched as the other boy pouted, still staring staring at Phil like he was hoping Phil would actually properly catch his gaze, but sat back down as Mr. Cray stood and started speaking.

Phil turned his gaze back down to his desk as Dan turned to face the front of the room. He was shaking, fingers fumbling as he reached for the zip on his backpack where he held the rose he’d de-thorned just for Dan that morning. He’d bled - quite a bit, actually - but he hoped that Dan wouldn’t notice all the tiny little cuts on the pads of his fingers now.

That was - if Dan even wanted to see his hands, let alone him.

But he did, didn’t? He must.

Phil’s heart was racing faster and faster with every passing moment. He felt kind of dizzy and anxious, and he was avoiding Dan’s gaze for once. His pastel flower prince, meanwhile, was quite clearly staring his way.

Phil bit his lip.

He didn’t know how to do this.

“Hey,” Dan said, just as the bell was going for the end of class. Phil stopped clear in his tracks, having just launched himself out of his seat in a last ditch attempt to get away and not face Dan, despite the overwhelmingly larger part of him that wanted too.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, too afraid to look at Dan, and then collapsed back in his seat, hugging his backpack to his chest once again. He fumbled with the zips at the front; should he - did he… the rose? Phil really wanted to give Dan the rose, but despite his intimidating exterior, he’d always been… rather shy.

Anxious, even, in social situations.

“Hey,” Phil finally managed to croak out in reply. He swallowed, but didn’t look up. “I guess you’ve found me out then, yeah?” he asked, forcing out a rough sounding chuckle. “You didn’t have to wear black for me, you know. I really - the way you are, it’s fine. It’s good,” he said.

His mouth felt suddenly rather dry.

Dan laughed above him, the same high, giddy sound he’d been letting out for the past few weeks now.

“It was the only crop top with a lion on it that I could find. I figured you wouldn’t mind what I was wearing, considering - considering. But I wanted you to know I knew it was you,” Dan explained, his voice a little high, a little shy. It was the most he’d ever spoken to Phil in all the time they’d gone to school together, but even now, he sounded more sure of himself than Phil did.

Phil felt himself starting to flush even harder, embarrassed about it all.

“Yeah? Well I, uh… I appreciate it,” he squeaked. He still couldn’t quite seem to make himself look at Dan, and his fingers kept pressing at the zips on his backpack.

The majority of their classmates had gone, and Phil wondered if they were trying to give the two of them a little privacy. Phil could hear one or two lingering in the doorway, though.

Dan giggled, and Phil suddenly wanted to die. Could he be any more awkward? He was supposed to be the confident, suave bad boy type, and he couldn't even look at his crush’s face now they knew he - he - fancied them.

“Hey,” Dan said again, surprising Phil just enough that he flicked his gaze upwards. Dan was staring at him with the gentlest of expressions Phil had ever seen. There was that same, familiar blotchy blush making his cheeks all rosy, and his eyes were like liquid, they were so soft.

Phil had the sudden urge to just lean forward and kiss him already, but he didn’t.

“Yeah?” Phil asked dumbly, his voice all breathy.

Dan giggled at him again.

“I brought you something,” he said. Dan bit his lips for good measure, glancing down just enough that his fringe fell in front of his eyes, and reached behind him for something Phil hadn’t realized Dan had left on the desk beside Phil.

“You don’t - you didn’t have to, Dan, I -”

“I know,” Dan interrupted him, grinning a little shyly. He’d managed to perfect that doe eyed look even as he stared up at Phil from under his eyelashes. “But I wanted too. You’ve already given me so much. I just wanted to give you something in return,” he said.

Phil wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. He bit down on his own lip, and slowly nodded his head.

That seemed to be all the permission Dan needed, because it was only a few seconds later that he was grinning again, seemingly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he well and truly grabbed hold of whatever object was behind him.

For a second, a very brief second, Phil saw a flash of purple, and then Dan was settling something on top of Phil’s head. He looked so pleased with himself once he got it situated the way he wanted it that Phil basically melted, feeling his limbs go all weak and his eyes soft.

His eyes were wide as Dan took a step back from him - and when had he gotten closer, when he’d placed the thing on top of Phil’s head? - and he reached up with delicate fingers of his own to touch the object that Dan had presented to him.

His own, slow growing smile creeped up over his features as he realized just what it was.

A flower crown.

Dan giggled again.

“It’s venus’s looking glass. My favorite, remember? I thought… you could wear a little piece of me around.”

Phil laughed. He laughed, and ducked his head, and covered his face the same way Dan had when he’d first found the blue starlets on his desk chair a little over two weeks ago. Phil couldn’t quite believe he’d ever been so terrified of Dan Howell.

“Yeah,” Phil eventually agreed. “I’d very much so like that.”

They ate lunch together.

Dan insisted on practically sitting on Phil’s lap, pressed up into his side as he was, bare thighs resting delicately against the fabric of Phil’s jeans. They were outside, in the courtyard on a little patch of grass, and Phil’s heart was beating so fast he thought it might just burst right out of his chest. Dan kept making him laugh, smiling up at him with that same gentle smile, and they hadn’t even kissed yet but Phil thought he could have died happy right then.

For the first time, he was too distracted by Dan to be embarrassed at the way his tongue stuck out when he laughed, or how dumb he probably looked when he was eating. It was comfortable, far more comfortable than Phil had been expecting it to be, and while he could still feel his heart thrumming away anxiously inside fo his chest, he felt good.

He felt safe, with Dan. Gentle Dan, whose eyes were like liquid gold in the glint of the sun.

They seemed to talk about everything and nothing, dancing around the subject of flowers and secret admirer’s and the clear attraction between them both. Phil fed Dan fries, and shivered at the way Dan’s lips just ghosted past his fingers, and Dan teased Phil when he got ketchup on his face, but it was good.

It was so, so good. Any fear Phil might have had left that they might not get along vanished into thin air a mere thirty minutes into lunch.

Phil was so completely in love.

“So,” Dan said, picking up Phil’s hand in his not long after they’d finished eating. It was tiny compared to Phil’s. Phil’s dwarfed his in comparison, but Dan seemed to like that because he grinned even wider and laced their fingers together delicately.

“So,” Phil agreed, shy as ever, and so, so tempted to just - he rested an open palm on Dan’s bare thigh, and watched Dan shiver under his touch.

Phil was so fucked.

“So. Where’s my flower?”

Phil laughed. He threw his head back, and he laughed so hard that his entire body shook with the force of it. Dan’s face was screwed up in a happy little pout, like he couldn't quite hold back his smile, but he meant business all at the same time. It was the cutest expression Phil had ever seen, and he reached up with the same hand currently holding Dan’s to press his fingers to his cheek.

“What makes you think I have one for you today?” he teased, leaning in close enough that he could feel Dan’s breath puffing up against his lips. Their foreheads were nearly touching, and Dan had shifted so he was more turned into Phil’s body, one leg practically completely in Phil’s lap.

“Because you always have one for me these days,” Dan said, and lowered his gaze. “You wouldn’t skimp out on me today, would you?” he breathed.

Phil could practically feel that his pupils had blown wide. Dan’s free hand had found Phil’s, and he’d dragged it up his own bare thigh until Phil was unconsciously stroking the tanned skin left bare before him. He swallowed, lips parting unconsciously, and wondered what he wanted more. To make Dan smile with the red rose tucked away in his backpack, or to feel his lips finally pressed up against his.

“Phil,” Dan breathed. His eyes were wide, but determined, no trace of shyness left. He was grinning like this was all that he’d ever wanted in life. “Don’t be an idiot and kiss me already.”

So Phil did.

He pressed in close and finally got his mouth on Dan’s, whose lips parted under his like he’d been waiting for this his entire life. Dan’s fingers on top of Phil’s guided Phil’s hand further up his thigh, like he wanted Phil to touch him, to stroke over all that wonderful, tanned skin. With an open invitation like that, who was Phil to refuse? Letting out a soft little sight, Phil let his fingers wander, removing his hand from Dan’s cheek to instead seek out the soft skin of his side, fingers caressing up the bare skin and under his shirt to his back.

All the while, Dan mewled underneath him, pliant and soft and perfect.

So, so perfect.

His lips tasted sweet, like cherry lip balm. Phil sucked at the soft skin, licked into his mouth, and sucked on his tongue as well. Dan made a soft huffing sound at the first sensation of Phil’s tongue ring rubbing up against him, and suddenly he was seeking it out like he was desperate for it.

It made something unfold in Phil’s stomach, hot and wanting, that he wanted to ignore, but it was hard. He had to keep reminding himself that as delicate as Dan was, he wasn’t delicate at all, especially not in that moment. No, not with the way he shifted in Phil’s lap until he was practically straddling him, legs on either side of Phil’s hips and bum resting deliciously on top of Phil’s crotch. For some reason, just the thought of getting to have Dan like this made Phil laugh against his lips.

“What?” Dan asked, giggling as well.

“Nothing. It’s just - you’re wonderful,” Phil replied pulling Dan closer. “Beautiful,” he added, pressing in close to suck at his lips again. “Perfect,” he added for good measure. “I didn’t think I even stood a chance with you.”

Phil felt Dan grin against his lips just before he bit down softly and pulled away again. His eyes swirled with something like desire, and he reached for Phil’s hand to guide it up his thigh once again.

“Well, you’ve definitely got all that wrong,” he said, pushing Phil backwards in the grass and moving to straddle him properly this time. Phil stared up at Dan with wide eyes as he climbed on top of him, hands fluttering about Dan’s hips uselessly. Dan smiled as he reached for them and guided them back to his practically bare thighs, and up to cup his bum. “I never imagined, Phil Lester, would fancy me.

Blushing, and impossibly turned on, Phil could do nothing but stare up at Dan.

Dan grinned, and leaned in to kiss him again.

“Wonderful, beautiful, perfect,” he whispered against Phil’s lips.

They laughed into each other’s mouths at that, Dan’s fingers moving to card gently through Phil’s hair, and Phil’s fingers gripping softly to Dan’s warm flesh.

They didn’t stop kissing again until the bell for class went.

Phil walked Dan home. They held hands the whole way there, fingers pressed warm together and arms swingingly gently between them. Dan was ever so slightly shorter than Phil, but not by much, and he kept staring up at Phil like he was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Phil couldn’t quite believe how that was possible when Phil felt like Dan was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

The flower crown Dan had made for Phil still sat rested on top of his head. He kept getting strange looks from passerby, but he didn’t mind. He liked the way it felt there, liked knowing he had something from Dan, and from time to time, he’d reach up and adjust it ever so gently on top of his head. Dan seemed to like that, beaming every time Phil did it. Phil would blush and duck his head, but Dan didn’t let him stay like that for long.

No, they talked some more. Dan kept the conversation going where Phil could not, made him laugh more than he ever did, and kept him from lapsing into terrified silence.

Phil was left with a chest that felt impossibly warm. All he wanted to do was stay by Dan’s side forever, even if being so close to him invariably meant an endless pit of butterflies in his stomach.

By the time they reached Dan’s doorstep, Phil was impossibly tempted to follow him inside, just so they would never have to stop talking, but he regretfully declined Dan’s offer at the last minute with a little duck of his head.

“I’ll uhm… I’ll see you tomorrow?” he offered instead, awkward as ever. He’d shoved his hands into his pockets the moment Dan had let go to unlock his front door, and now he was left staring at the black tips of his shoes.

He could just about see the blue of Dan’s, and he was more surprised than he probably should have been when they started to inch closer to him.

He looked up just in time for Dan to press his fingers to Phil’s chin.

“Do you want to see me tomorrow?” Dan asked. He was grinning, so Phil knew he was teasing, but it still made his heart race in panic.

“Of course,” he insisted, nodding his head once determinedly. Dan giggled at him, and nodded his head as well.

“Then you’ll see me tomorrow,” he agreed. His eyes were a little searching as he looked into Phil’s, seeming to be considering something. What, Phil didn’t know, but he swallowed rather thickly as he waited for Dan to come to a decision. When he did, he smiled to himself, nodded again, and then leaned in to press a quick, gentle kiss to Phil’s cheek.

“Tomorrow, then,” he repeated, and finally let Phil go.

A little dazed by the action despite having spent a good part of lunch making out with Dan, it took Phil a moment to realize that was his cue to leave. Dan’s eyes were sparkling, and he was giggling into the palm of his hand by the time Phil turned around to go, only -

Wasn’t he forgetting something?

Embarrassed to have gotten so easily flustered by a kiss on the cheek, Phil laughed at himself, an awkward sounding chuckle, and tried to wrack his brain for what was missing at the same time as he went to jog away from Dan’s house. His cheeks were undeniably bright red, and he was certain Dan was watching him flee, but he was too busy trying to remember what he was forgetting to really focus on any of those facs.

He knew, once he got home, he’d undeniably be even more flustered and mortified at himself, especially considering he still had the rose in his -

The rose!

Phil hadn’t even yet made it out of Dan’s front yard before he came to a sudden stop, and abruptly turned back around, nearly tripping over his own two left feet. “Wa-wait!” he shouted, the word choppy from his own scare of nearly falling over. He looked up just in time to find that Dan hadn’t moved an inch since Phil had intended to take off, and he felt his cheeks grow hotter still, the flush racing down his chest.

Of course Dan had been staring at him leave. Phil had known that.

Dan was giggling at him now.

“Yes?”

Dan’s voice was impossibly perfect. Phil smiled, just at the sound of it, and ducked his face once again. He fumbled to get his backpack off his shoulders and dragged it around to the front of his body so he could wrestle with the zips. He used his knee to hold it up, praying he managed to keep his balance and not make any more of a fool out of himself than he already had.

“I uhm - your flower,” he explained, tripping over his words. His hands were shaking again, and he was suddenly very glad he’d de-thorned the rose that morning or he’d probably be getting blood all over Dan’s front yard right now.

As soon as his fingers pressed gently against the soft petals of the rose, Phil pulled it out with a little grin, and let his bag fall to the ground. “Yo-you didn’t really think I didn’t have another flower for you today, did you?”

Dan’s eyes were bright, his grin huge as he stared at Phil. He looked a little disbelieving himself, a little awed and flustered the way Phil had been when Dan had kissed him on the cheek, and it was wonderful. It gave Phil just enough confidence to take a step forward and reach for Dan’s hand.

“Here,” he said, “It’s for you. Because, I uhm… I really li-like you,” he stuttered out, cheeks blazing as he looked down between their hands, curling Dan’s fingers rather gently around the stem of the rose. Dan took it easily enough, his fingers small and delicate under Phil’s.

He giggled, seeming a little disbelieving for the first time all day, which was honestly a little bit relieving if Phil was being honest.

Before he could draw his hand back, Dan caught hold of it with his free hand.

“I really like you too,” he said, and squeezed, “If you hadn’t realized yet.” His voice was as teasing as it always was, but Phil didn’t even mind, because despite the way Dan had kissed him, and the way he’d let Phil touch him, and the way he’d held his hand… Phil had thought, had worried, had wondered if this was real.

He laughed nervously, because he didn’t know what else to do, and stepped in close until he had Dan pressed up against the wall next to his front door. His free hand caught Dan’s waist, and held, and he smiled as he leaned in close.

“That’s good, then,” he said, “Because I was kind of worried, you know.”

Dan shook his head, but he was grinning too, staring up at Phil with the softest of sweet looks. Phil’s heart felt like it was melting when he leaned in and kissed Dan again.

By the time Phil got home, it was late. He hadn’t intended to stay at Dan’s house, but it wasn’t long after they’d kissed right outside his front door that Dan seemed to realize the rose he was holding had no thorns. He’d pulled away from the kiss to stare at in wonder, and then he’d grabbed up Phil’s hand like he knew, and checked over every last finger.

Somehow, Phil had found himself being hauled past Dan’s front door and led straight into the bathroom where Dan had set about bandaging every last finger with pink and blue pastel plasters. It had been - both mortifying and amazing, being treated like that, like Dan cared about him when it was only a few scratches that didn’t even hurt that bad. He’d complained a few times, futilely and so lamely that Dan hadn’t once taken him seriously, but Phil was kind of secretly glad for that. The way Dan had looked taking care of Phil’s “wounds” had been rather adorable to see, and he’d found himself falling even harder for him.

Dan must have seen it on his face as well, because he’d gone bright red when he’d finally finished up and bothered to look at Phil’s face, dropping his hands like he was embarrassed he’d overreacted the minute he took in Phil’s expression. He’d tried to turn away, but Phil had caught him by the wrist, and then they were kissing all over again.

It was no wonder he’d gotten caught up with someone like Dan in his lap.

But now he was home, and it was getting close to dinner time, and Martyn - well, Martyn was waiting just inside the lounge for him.

Phil didn’t even notice him at first, he was still so dazed, love struck and so, so gone, but then Martyn cleared his throat and Phil looked up with wide eyes, startled, to find him sprawled out on the sofa just inside.

“Where you been?” Martyn asked, grinning.

Embarrassed, Phil froze.

“Uhm,” he said intelligently.

Martyn laughed at him. The sound was nowhere near as pleasing as Dan’s.

“Never mind, it’s pretty obvious what you’ve been up too,” Martyn teased him, to which Phil blushed for the millionth time that day and instantly reached up to touch his neck where he’d been so certain Dan had been careful not to leave a mark.

Martyn laughed even harder at him for that, launching himself up from the sofa and making his way over to Phil’s side before dropping a knowing hand on his shoulder.

“I was talking about the plasters on your hands, but that too,” he teased, and laughed even harder as he left the room.

#cosmicphandom2k16 #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #snowbunnylester #400

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