#i technically buy my own phones now i could switch but all my stuff with google/samsung etc so it's easier??

[cowardlycowboys]

Which phone do you use? Do you prefer iPhone or Android? I use the Motorola Razr 40 Ultra.

the girl in the commercial was so pretty I wanted to buy that phone so bad but I have android because my dad refuses to buy apple products

[mypoisonedvine]

Side Effects | Bruce Banner x reader

summary: you never know what might be in the beakers at another chemist's station. you never know which of your colleagues might come along just in the knick of time to become the only antidote to your affliction.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: smut! (dub con due to sex pollen), semi-public sex (because technically someone could have walked by but unlikely), guilt/hesitance, kinda pining??, fingering, creampie,

a/n: yes, this is an accurate depiction of emergency shower protocol in a chemical lab and yes it is every lab technician's worst nightmare. thankfully the other stuff is not an accurate depiction of any known chemical, lol.

You wiped your forehead with a tired sigh, staring down at the calculations in front of you before using your pen to scribble over them before tearing out the page and throwing it away.

“You still do that by hand?” Bruce interjected, making you look up at where he was leaning in the doorway to the lab, watching you work.

“Oh, Dr. Banner!” you greeted with a smile, wondering if it was too ecstatic. You weren’t so good at the ‘playing it cool’ thing like he seemed to be.

“We have all those fancy screens and digital whiteboards, you know,” he explained as he stepped in and looked around at your work. “Not to mention the computer can do that stuff for you.”

“I know,” you scoffed, “but I always feel better doing it myself, on real paper. Not that I’m having any luck at the moment…”

"Here, I'll give them a quick look while you take a break," he offered, glancing at the numbers from over your shoulder. "You just get up and stretch your legs for a minute, doc."

You always thought it was sort of silly for him to call you that when he was a doctor as well, but you didn't complain.

Regardless, you were about to tell him that it was fine and you didn't need a break, but he was leaning in closer to take your seat and the proximity was so intimidating that you hopped up and went along with it anyways. He sat down and pondered your calculations while you circled the lab, taking a moment to appreciate how nice it felt to stand up and move around after sitting for so long.

"Your handwriting is…" Bruce trailed off, adjusting his glasses.

"Feminine and graceful?" you finished sarcastically.

"Sure," he chuckled.

"Yeah, just like me—" you started to quip, but mid-sentence you (ironically) stumbled and tripped, using a nearby table to catch yourself— but you accidentally grabbed onto a beaker, which tipped over and smashed onto the ground. The liquid inside spilled onto the floor just before you did, and you winced as you fell into the puddle of the unknown substance.

“Shit!” you hissed as you scrambled to get up, looking down at your clothes and seeing they were covered in the fluid, which was beginning to evaporate, or steam, or something. Remembering lab safety protocols, you instantly began to strip, closing your eyes and wishing Bruce hadn’t come in just before this. As you shirked your lab coat, shirt, and skirt, you walked to the emergency shower, pulling the lever and gasping when the chilly stream of water poured down on you. Bruce looked at you with wide eyes before being kind enough to turn around as you shivered and removed your bra and underwear, now completely naked and weakly scrubbing yourself with your hands in hopes that none of the chemical had gotten onto your skin.

“What is it?” he asked nervously, turning his head back enough that you could hear him over the flow of water, but hopefully not so much that he could see anything important.

“I don’t know,” you answered, “it’s not mine. It’s something Dr. Sutherland was working on…”

“Is it… are you in pain at all?” he asked, even more concerned, and you tried to decide if you could feel any effects.

“N-no…” you answered hesitantly. You felt hot, and strange, and you were covered in rolling chills, but you figured that was just the situation you were in— naked in a tepid shower in front of your coworker who just so happened to be incredibly sexy.

“I should call poison control,” Bruce offered as he reached for his cell phone.

“No, I’m fine,” you denied as the water flow slowed down and you wiped your face, confident that you looked like a complete mess— but at least you saved yourself from whatever was in that beaker, right?

“Here,” Bruce offered an emergency blanket to you after pulling it off a nearby shelf, and it was not at all absorbent but it helped with the draft as you stepped away from the shower which was still leaking the last few drops of water onto the drain on the floor.

“Thank you,” you nodded nervously, shivering and dripping and looking back at him with no idea what to say at all.

“Do you feel alright? I should check you for burns,” he suggested. “I— I won’t look…”

“Please,” you sighed, pulling the blanket a bit to expose your chest and stomach. He brushed his hand over the skin there, making you instantly whine as heat burned just under your skin, clouding your mind and making you crave even more.

"Did that hurt?" he asked anxiously, pulling away, but you stepped closer.

"No it's… it's good, it's so good."

He furrowed his brow as he looked down at you, putting the back of his hand to your forehead. "You're burning up, doc, you must be running a fever of 105."

"Touch me more, please," you whimpered. It was like you were in a dream, everything foggy and distant, and the only time that anything made sense was when he touched you. Or maybe it was that his touch sent you further into delirium; you couldn't be sure.

He gasped when he looked at your quivering legs only to find slick arousal running down the inside of them, threatening to drip onto the floor.

"Oh," he sighed.

"Please," you begged mindlessly, "Dr. Banner, I n-need you…"

"No, you need medical attention."

You whined and grabbed as his shirt, humming at the feeling of his warm skin just beneath. If the forearms that he often left exposed in rolled-up sleeves were anything to go buy, his chest was probably toned and tanned, lightly dusted with dark hair… you were all but drooling at the thought. "Please, Bruce… just help me," you pleaded, looking up into his eyes which were swirling with conflict.

"I can't," he shook his head. "I'd be taking advantage."

He must have seen the heartbreak of rejection make you wince, because he tried to soothe you with his hands resting on your arms— even just that contact making you suppress a moan.

"I've wanted this for so long," he explained, "and you— you haven't. You're unwell, you need to go to a hospital."

You sobbed a little at the idea of being taken away from him and examined by strangers, when you knew the solution was right in front of you. "No, no Bruce they'll touch me! Nobody can touch me but you, I only want you."

He scoffed, but you heard the weakness in it and you needed him to give in soon before you melted from your own hear. "You're deranged— delirious," he reiterated.

"It'll feel so good, please Bruce, I'll be so good for you— anything you want, I'll do it, I'm yours."

"Stop talking like that," he winced. "I can't… I can't."

"I need to feel you inside me, Dr. Banner, I need it more than anything. It's just gonna get worse… please, help me. I want you. I trust you."

"You'll hate me in the morning," he asserted. "God, this is so wrong…"

But much to your relief, he reached down and hesitantly slid his thick middle finger through your folds, gasping gently as he felt how wet you were. "I should t-take you somewhere private."

"No, need you now— right here," you pleaded, trying to chase his touch with your hips.

"But if someone came by—" he began to fret, glancing at the door; but his attention was turned back to you by your hands weaving into his hair.

"Nobody else stays this late, god, Bruce please I just need you so bad—"

He cut you off with a sudden kiss, which was enough on its own to make warmth bloom in your gut, but then he started to move his finger again and you shuddered with a moan that was muffled by his lips.

"Maybe I can make you come like this," he offered as he pulled back just enough to whisper to you, "would that help you? It'll take the edge off."

You bucked and moaned against his fingers, just those subtle touches driving you wild. "N-no, it has to be inside! You have to fuck me, I need your cock."

He breathed through his teeth, like he was almost considering it, but then looked away. "I can't," he shook his head.

"Can't or won't?"

He frowned. "Won't. I'll get you off with my fingers, otherwise it would be… too selfish."

"Bruce, I'm literally begging you for it," you sighed, the irritated tone that you'd intended lost in the moans he elicited by rubbing your swollen clit.

"I know," he winced, "I know and it's killing me that I can't give you what you're asking for… I swear if it wasn't like this…" he trailed off as you looked up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"What would it be like?" you asked lowly. "Tell me how you would fuck me."

For all his shyness before, there was a brief switch in his demeanor as he leaned in, breath hot against your neck as he whispered, two fingers sliding into your channel at the exact moment that he spoke.

"So fucking hard."

You whimpered, knees wobbling a bit as you tried to ride his fingers— but he wasn't pushing back, wasn't giving you enough force to balance against when you sought more friction. "P-please, Bruce— I know you want to, please, please baby I need it so bad…"

"I know," he breathed, free hand cradling your face as his thumb stroked your cheek, and it was so needlessly compassionate, so effortlessly soothing that your heart had no choice but to clench at his tenderness. Other parts of you clenched as well, in much more literal ways, but the heart thing was more important.

You gingerly reached forward and palmed his cock through his pants, moaning when you felt how hard it was. "You're desperate, too," you informed him with a little smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? It aches."

"Yes," he answered tensely.

"I'm hurting too. I'm aching, for you. Please, Bruce, help me."

As he pulled back and examined your face, he chewed his lip and contemplated. He couldn't stand to see you in pain, but he couldn't comprehend what he had to do to help you. Well, okay, that's not totally accurate because he had actually "comprehended" the idea of making love to you plenty of times. But that was just a fantasy, a very misguided one that he only indulged in in his weakest moments. And in those fantasies, shockingly enough, you were always completed lucid and of sound mind and body. He sadly could not say that for you at the moment, and of course he couldn't because of course when you were sober and healthy, you didn't see him that way.

Bruce prided himself on his logic, his integrity, his patience. Suddenly, those qualities were falling prey to a much deeper, carnal instinct that saw this not as a predicament but as an opportunity. Logic states, after all, that it would be wasteful to have everything he wanted thrown into his lap and to let it go to waste.

"Fuck," he groaned as he kissed you again, fucking you faster with his fingers. You moaned and went for his belt, barely managing to open it with your hands shaking so much; part of you had considered just trying to rip the leather off of him, and with the force of your need it seemed almost plausible.

Finally getting his trousers opened just enough to reach inside, you purred as you reached in and navigated past his boxers to wrap your fingers around his hard cock. It was so thick and smooth and hot and you almost wanted to drop to your knees and take it in your throat right then, but you had better plans.

He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, grinning against you at the way you whined, before wrapping his arms around you and quickly instructing you to jump.

It was infuriating, how easily he caught you when you wrapped your body around him. Infuriating and so painfully sexy.

He never broke the kiss as he walked the two of you to your lab table, sliding the papers aside and onto the floor to set you on it. You started on his aggravatingly-small shirt buttons while he pushed his trousers and boxers down the rest of the way, and god his cock was right there between your legs, so close but very much too far away for your liking.

You didn't have the time or energy to get his shirt off, settling for just running your hands over the exposed skin instead. He grinned and watched the path your hands made, hissing slightly when they wrapped around his shaft— for a second you swore you could feel it throb.

"Don't make me wait anymore," you whispered your plea, sighing a little when he nodded.

"Okay baby," he agreed.

"Been waiting so long," you whined.

"Me too," he nodded, and with a little push, his cock slid all the way into you and filles you to the brim. Even when you were completely drenched, the girth of him was so wide that it stung, that it tore you open, but you loved it. Your head fell back and just from him being inside you, you came. The substance had you so needy and sensitive that that was all it took. It wasn't enough yet, of course. You knew you needed more. But God, he felt so good you could hardly breathe.

"Baby," you heard Bruce gasp, his fingers digging into your hips. Your chest twisted when he laughed a little, breathless and just teetering on the line between complimentary and mocking. "Did you just come?"

You considered playing dumb, but nodded instead.

His smile was apparent when he pressed his lips just below your ear to suck on the delicate skin there, his teeth trailing up to nibble your earlobe lightly. You hoped he would leave a mark, you hoped he would leave lots of marks that you could remember this by for weeks to come.

"Couldn't help yourself, huh?" he asked breathlessly, whispering so quietly you could barely hear it over the beating of your own pulse which echoed in your ears.

"You feel so good," you justified, "so fucking good, Bruce."

"You too," he sighed as he finally pulled back and slid into you again, the friction making your back arch instantly. "Even better than I imagined."

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his hips, forcing him to push deeper with each thrust. When he pushed you to your limits it felt like you might just fall apart right there, but it was so worth it.

As if that wasn't enough, he reached down and circled a thumb over your overstimulated clit, grinning down at you at the sight of you writhing and bucking wildly in his arms.

"Fuck!" you cried as you tightened your hands on his shoulders into fists hard enough to risk tearing through his shirt.

"Too much?"

"More," you pleaded instead, crying out when he gave you exactly what you wanted with fast, rough thrusts into your drenched walls. "Yes," you sobbed, "yes, fuck— m'gonna come, Bruce, gonna come again."

"Go ahead," he encouraged, voice so much rougher than normal, "show me how good it feels, baby."

It felt like his words were the thin that pushed you over the edge, as if your body somehow both understood and obeyed his command. You could feel a renewed wave of slick leak out from you, enough that you could hear the wetness in each slap of his hips against yours. His name was somewhere in the litany of curses and praises that spilled from your lips, your mind too clouded with hazy pleasure to keep track of what you were actually saying.

"Just like that," he groaned, "doing so good, fuck, say my name just like that every time I make you come."

An easy enough stricture to follow, especially when it seemed like he was all you could think about. He looked so different with his clothes half-shorn and his eyes dark with lust. He hadn't taken his glasses or labcoat off and you weren't sure which of those you were happier about.

His lips and hands were all over you; you couldn't even keep track of everywhere he was touching you, that's how overwhelming it was. "God, you're so fucking perfect," he groaned against your skin, finding a hardened nipple as his tongue explored you and wrapping his lips around it. "You are so goddamn sexy, you know that? I love seeing you with your legs spread for me like a needy little whore. I love hearing you moan and knowing I'm the one making you feel this good."

He took a moment to look at you and soak in your shocked reaction to his words before leaning in to continue.

"I love feeling you come for me," he purred in your ear.

"Then you're gonna really like what I'm about to do," you shivered.

"Yeah? You can gimme another one already?" he smiled. "Such a good girl…"

You really couldn't help it, it felt like everything he did only enhanced your pleasure— his words, his hands all over you, not to even mention his cock inside you. As much as the hedonistic corner of your brain was happy to let this go on forever, the ramifications of constant orgasms were finally catching up with you as you wondered how much more of this you could take.

"F-fuck, are you close?" you asked weakly. "Want you to come for me, Bruce, please."

"I-I'll pull out," he suggested, although the way he looked down at his length sinking into you and pulling back out, covered in your abundant arousal, didn't exactly indicate that he was willing and able to actually make good on his offer.

"No!" you yelped, pulling him closer by his unbuttoned shirt. "It needs to be inside, Bruce, please come inside me."

"Fuck," he hissed through his teeth.

"Please, Bruce, please, promise you'll come inside."

"I will," he sighed, "fuck, I will baby, I promise I'm gonna fill you up so good, you're gonna have my come so fucking deep inside you…"

"Yes!" you moaned, completely unabashed as the unknown substance had apparently absolved you of any shame whatsoever. "Yes, I want it, Bruce, I want your come."

The moment you felt his seed start to paint your walls, you felt relief begin to wash over you. Your mind and body relaxed, the overwhelming heat under your skin subsiding into a comforting warmth, the desperation that had burned in your gut satiated at last.

And that left you staring up at him in realization of what you had done, just as he looked back at you with the same.

"God, I'm so sorry—" he shuddered, moving to pull away. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his hips again, holding him close.

"N-no, wait," you groaned, "it's okay. Don't go."

"You don't hate me," he said, the exhaustion in his tone making it hard to tell if it was a question or a statement.

"Never," you sighed with a weak smile, sitting up to clutch his face and kiss him again. "God, Bruce, now I'm just wondering what took us so long."

"Our lab safety is just too good, clearly," he smiled as he kissed you again, pulling back a little too soon to examine your face where he held it in his hands. "Are you okay? You should still probably go to a doctor…"

"I'm already with a doctor," you smirked, "and his treatment was very effective."

"Yeah, that was…" he trailed off, wide eyes as if he were reminiscing about what had only just transpired.

"Sorry for being so… desperate," you cringed. "I didn't mean to… um… impose…"

He just laughed and kissed your forehead, making you feel your cheeks warm a bit; ironic that with everything that had just happened, this was what made you blush. "A beautiful, amazing woman that I've been dreaming about for months begs me to take her in the laboratory… really inconvenient."

"I mean, cleaning up these papers and the broken glass is gonna be pretty tedious, along with the incident report," you frowned.

"I'll help you with it," he offered.

"Tomorrow," you decided. "Right now, I'm taking you to my place."

"Is that so?" he asked with a bemused smirk.

"Yep. We both are in serious need of a shower, and then I wanna go again," you grinned wickedly.

"I thought you said you weren't feeling the effects of the chemical anymore," he recalled, voice tinted with concern.

"I'm not," you reassured, "I'm just feeling the effects of you."

[debbiechanclub]

Know You Better Now (BTOOT sequel), Part 2

Probably not the best idea to drop this right after Extreme Rules, but I can’t wait because 😭 And that’s all I’m gonna say. Thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

Know You Better Now

Part: 2/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Find more of my fics here.

Tag squad: @galacticstat @hotyeehawman @hdbngsprnva @kingswitchblade @bec0m @betsy-bradock @heelchampbucks @linziland13 @librathepheonix13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-babymox-exe @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @brokenglassslippers @rocca09 @meteora-fc @kawaiikels @adriii-omega @thatgirlforever5 @sugar-melts-mo-fo

“Did you see the look on PAC’s face when he realized Alex broke up the pin? He was so-ho-ho piiiissed.”

Nick could barely finish speaking before he emitted a laugh that sounded more like an asthmatic wheeze, and everyone else joined in, the boisterous boom bouncing off the walls of The Elite locker room and making Alex’s ears ring. She’d never felt so out of place.

“He looked like an angry gremlin,” Karl piled on. He contorted his face and hands and made everyone guffaw and bark even louder. Alex rolled her eyes. Out of all of them, Karl annoyed her the most.

“Yeah, that was quick thinking, Alex,” Matt said. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down.”

He sent her a crooked, shit-eating grin. Had he not tacked on that last part, it might have been half a compliment. But he knew exactly what he was doing—and Alex did not have the patience for it.

“Us? Last time I checked, Kenny is the AEW Champion, not The Elite.”

The room went dead silent. Matt’s smirk vanished.

“Don’t act like you know anything about The Elite,” he bit. “You’ve been here all of two seconds. We were selling out the Tokyo Dome when you were still working bingo halls.”

“Whoa!” Kenny interjected. “Watch who the hell you’re talking to like that, Matt.”

The atmosphere went from shocked to tense; palpable. Matt’s jaw flexed, obviously embarrassed to have been put in his place in front of the boys. Alex smirked. He deserved it.

Kenny sighed into the quiet. “Alright, you know what? Everyone out.”

“What?” Gallows balked. “We gotta celebrate your big win, man—”

Don cut him off. “You heard what he said, everyone out!”

He herded them all toward the exit, and other than a few side-eyes and under-breath comments, they went without argument. It was the first time Alex had ever been thankful for Don to step in.

The door fell closed, and Alex and Kenny were left alone. His eyes were much softer than they’d been just a few seconds before.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’ll take a lot more than that for Matt to get to me.”

“I know, but he shouldn’t have said it at all. It was out of line.”

“It’s Matt. What do you expect?” she returned. It made Kenny purse his lips in disappointment.

“He’s not out to get you, Alex. He’s just protective of his friends.”

Her eyes darkened. “Is there a reason he thinks he needs to protect you from me?”

He breathed out in frustration. “Come on, that’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I wish you two would get along.”

Alex stubbornly crossed her arms and looked across the room. This wasn’t the first time he’d said that to her. She knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Hey.” Kenny gently gripped her shoulders, and she looked back up at him. “I want you to feel like you’re a part of the group, Alex. And I know right now you don’t,” he quickly added before she could interject. “But give it time. You’ve been at home working on getting healthy, and the boys just want to be sure that you’re a team player. Which… I’m pretty sure you proved you are tonight.”

She lightly sucked her teeth. “I did that for you, not—”

“I know,” softly interrupted. “But any of them would have done the same thing.”

Alex rocked back on her heels and turned her eyes down to her shoes. She understood where Kenny was coming from, one thousand percent. But she didn’t think she should have to prove herself to “the boys.” And truthfully… she didn’t want to be a part of The Elite, either.

But she also didn’t want to get into an argument with Kenny, so she just let it go. “Well, thank you for putting Matt in his place,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew herself close to him. “I’ll do my best to get along with him so long as he’s not an ass to me.”

“That’s all I want,” Kenny returned, and he placed a kiss on her lips that was perhaps meant to be short and sweet, but neither of them pulled away. He brought his hands to either side of her face, and she pressed her fingers into his back as she lightly sucked on his bottom lip. He smirked against her mouth. “You want to get in the shower with me?”

She pecked his lips again. “No.”

He pulled back in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because. I look way too good right now to ruin it.”

He flashed a crooked grin. She already knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Fine. I’ll just ruin it when we get home.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had honestly hoped Kenny would ruin it when they got home. But unfortunately, they didn’t go home alone; Matt, Nick, and Don went with them. At least the Good Brothers had decided they’d rather go drink at the hotel bar.

“So, have you officially moved in yet, Alex?”

Nick smirked at her from across the kitchen island, his mouth full of pizza. They’d ordered some “late night celebratory pies,” as Kenny had put it, but Alex didn’t have much of an appetite. She didn’t dignify Nick with a response either, instead just pursing her lips and taking a sip of the red wine she’d poured herself. As if he wouldn’t have already known if she’d officially moved in; he was one of Kenny’s best friends.

“Shit, I forget that she doesn’t ‘officially’ live here,” Kenny commented, making air quotes around the word. “It already feels like you do. Isn’t most of your stuff here?”

“Most of my clothes are,” she answered. “But I still have an entire house full of stuff in Virginia.”

“Wasn’t your cousin interested in potentially buying from you?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose. She asked me if I was thinking about selling, but we haven’t discussed it.”

“Well… maybe you should.”

He sent her a grin. She chewed the inside of her lip. “Maybe,” she returned, and took another sip of wine.

“Speaking of official,” Don segued. “Is Alex officially with us now?”

Alex stiffened. She didn’t at all appreciate that Don had spoken as if she wasn’t standing right there. But she couldn’t really answer him, either.

“Come on, why wouldn’t she be?” Kenny returned.

“Because tonight was the first time she’s been on AEW programming in what—nine months?” He fixed Alex with his beady eyes and finally addressed her directly. “People still think of you as part of Best Friends. And even though you broke up that pin in Kenny’s interest, the fact of the matter is that you technically helped Orange, too.”

“What?” Kenny let out a loud, disbelieving laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous, Don! She would have done the exact same thing if it had been Orange going for the pin instead of PAC.”

“Would she?” Matt challenged. He glanced at Alex. “Would you?”

Kenny’s eyes widened at him. “Really, Matt?” he charged—but Alex spoke up.

“No, if they’re so concerned about it, then I’ll tell them.” She leaned forward on the island and looked Matt dead in the eye. “Of course I would have done the exact same thing if it had been Orange going for the pin instead of PAC. And you know why? Because I was out there in Kenny’s corner tonight, and tonight was the first time in months that I’ve seen or even spoken to Orange or any of the others. So no, I’m not a part of Best Friends anymore.”

It hurt to finally say that out loud; but it wasn’t anything Alex hadn’t already known deep down. She’d known it as soon as Kris had popped out of that claw machine a month ago… maybe even sooner. And their behavior toward her that night—Trent’s behavior—had only proven it.

Kenny wrapped an arm around her waist and placed a kiss on the side of her head. Matt, meanwhile, said nothing. It seemed she’d finally shut him up—for now.

Don nodded. “That’s all I need to hear.”

Alex shifted. Somehow, she doubted that.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Nick interjected. “Do you guys have any ice cream?”

“Jesus, Nick,” Matt breathed; but Kenny perked up.

“We do, actually. Alex has turned me onto Blue Bell.” He started for the freezer. “Do you want some, baby? We still have mint chocolate chip.”

Alex shook her head. “No. I’m actually gonna head upstairs; I’m exhausted.”

Part of her knew that, by going to bed, she was only inviting them to talk about her more. But she didn’t care. Matt could spew whatever bullshit he wanted; Kenny knew where she stood, and that was all that mattered.

He nodded. “Okay. I’m honestly not far behind you.”

She put her wine glass in the sink and gave him a kiss on the way out of the kitchen. Her legs were tired as she climbed the stairs to their bedroom. Our bedroom, she realized she thought of it as, not Kenny’s bedroom. She wasn’t sure when she’d made that switch, but she was hyper-aware of it now after Kenny’s comment just a few minutes before. But just the thought of selling her house stressed her out; she had enough on her plate as it was, and she didn’t want to give any of it any more of her energy for the rest of the night—

Beep-beep!

But she got a text just as she crossed into the bedroom. She sighed and pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans—and stopped when she saw the screen.

It was from Trent.

I’m sorry about what I said tonight. I just didn’t know how to react.

Alex’s brow lowered as she read the message. She knew Trent, and something in her gut told her that he hadn’t sent that on his own. No; Kris had probably beat him over the head until he’d relented. He would have been better off not sending anything at all.

She purposefully opened the text so that he would get the “read” notification, and then she locked her phone, tossed it onto the bed, and went into the bathroom to do her nighttime routine. If there was one thing she definitely would not give any more of her energy to, it was that.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Dynamite following Double Or Nothing wasn’t until Friday, so Alex had nearly an entire week to mentally prepare herself. She needed the extra time. Because, in the interest of “publicly clearing up any confusion” about where her loyalties lied, Don had booked her a sit-down interview with Excalibur.

She’d been furious when he’d told her. So had Kenny—he’d set it up behind both their backs. But of course, Don had talked him down and convinced him that it was “the right move.” Afterward, Kenny had profusely apologized to her; but she’d just told him to forget it. She’d do the damn interview. She wanted to speak her mind.

But now that she was sitting across from Excalibur in one of the backstage areas at Daily’s Place, she felt like she might vomit.

He spoke to the camera as he opened up the interview. “I’m sitting here with Alex Hawthorne, who made a surprise return after a nine-month absence at Double Or Nothing this past Sunday… and before we get into the interview, Alex, I just want to say welcome back. You were gone rehabbing a shoulder injury, and you’ve clearly come back in fighting shape. I think we all did a double-take when you walked out with Kenny Omega on Sunday.”

Alex felt herself relax a bit. It felt good to be acknowledged. She hadn’t felt that in a while. “Thank you, Excalibur, I appreciate that. It feels good to be back, and I have come back in fighting shape—not just physically, but mentally, as well. When I found out that my shoulder needed surgery, it was a bitter pill to swallow. And I’m not gonna lie; I struggled with it at first. But I distinctly remember waking up in that post-op room after surgery, and I realized right then and there that I could either let this injury drag me down, or I could use it as an opportunity to come back even better than before. And I promise you—and the entire AEW women’s division—that this isn’t the same Alex Hawthorne who competed in that ring nine months ago.”

Excalibur nodded. “Which begs the question: when can we expect you back in the ring?”

She breathed out. “Soon,” she nodded, her tone determined. “I still have some work to do, but it’ll be soon.”

“And we all look forward to it,” he said. “But you mentioned that you’re not the same Alex Hawthorne you were nine months ago. We’re used to seeing you at ringside in support of Best Friends… however, you returned in Kenny Omega’s corner for the AEW World Championship match at Double or Nothing, a match that also included Orange Cassidy. Is it safe to say that this new and improved Alex Hawthorne has moved on from Best Friends?”

Alex’s heart jumped into her throat. There it was, the million-dollar question, the reason for this entire interview, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d think Don had fed that line directly to Excalibur. But he didn’t like Don any more than she did—and she needed to give an answer. So, she did.

“It’s safe to say that, yeah.”

Her stomach churned and she looked down at her hands in her lap. It was out there now. She couldn’t take it back.

“Well, I have to ask,” Excalibur started, and she flicked her eyes back up at him. “You interfered in the match on Sunday and most likely prevented PAC from winning the AEW World Championship. But you also prevented Orange from taking the pin. Is there no part of you that did that for him?”

Alex’s brow lowered. First Don, and now this? Why was everyone so confused about her motive? “No. I did that for Ken—”

“Who cares who ya did it for!”

She was abruptly cut off by an angry, distinctly accented voice, and then PAC unexpectedly stalked into the interview area. He fixed Alex with a wild-eyed glare. “It’s like Excalibur said… you cost me the AEW World Championship.”

Alex leaned away from him in her chair as he moved closer. The entire sight of him was jarring, that ubiquitous scowl of his contorting his face, his dark, wet hair dripping water down his bare chest. She looked him over in confusion. Why was he already in his gear, ready to go? He and Penta had a match that night against the Young Bucks, but the show didn’t start for another two hours.

Excalibur tried to intervene. “PAC, we’re doing an interview here—”

But PAC just talked over him. “I know you’ve been gone a long time, Alex. And I have to admit, you do look good. So, here’s a bit of advice: instead of interfering in his matches, why don’t ya stick to being Kenny Omega’s arm candy.”

Alex’s eyes darkened. Suddenly, all her surprise turned to anger. “Arm candy?”

“You heard me,” he spat.

“Do you even own regular clothes? Or do you just live in your gear dripping wet like you emerged from the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Hey, PAC!”

Another person interrupted then, and Alex and PAC both looked over to find the Young Bucks, Brandon Cutler, and the Good Brothers stalking toward them. But it wasn’t just them. They had Rey Fenix—and it looked like he’d already been jumped.

Matt smirked. “Did you lose something?”

PAC growled in his throat. He charged toward them—but they dumped Fenix to the floor and retreated, laughing as they did. Nick held up his hands. “We’re saving our energy for the match tonight!”

PAC let them go, choosing instead to help his friend. Meanwhile, Alex jumped up and ran after them—the interview was over.

“Hey!” They all turned to look back at her, but her focus was zeroed in on Matt. This was his doing, she knew it. “What the fuck did you do that for?”

He scoffed. “To send a message, obviously. Come on, Alex… I thought you were with us now?”

He flashed another crooked smirk, and then they all started off again, patting each other on the back and hyping the Bucks up for the match that night. And Alex just stood and watched them go, all the while realizing that she was with them now—and she’d all but said it for the entire world to hear.

* * * * * * * * * *

“You ready to head home?”

Alex looked up at Kenny, re-emerging from her thoughts. She nodded. “Please.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile and held out his hand, and she took it and let him pull her up and lead her out of the locker room. It was the end of the night, and she’d been ready to head home before a single match had even been contested.

To her great surprise, Dynamite had started off by airing the footage of her interview. Alex had barely been able to watch, knowing what was coming, what she’d said. But when it was all said and done, it didn’t even feel like it was about her anymore. The interview had led right into the tag match between the Young Bucks and PAC and Penta—the story became the Super Elite’s attack on Fenix, not her return. And Alex wasn’t sure if she was more relieved that they’d distracted from the fact that she’d basically disowned Best Friends, or more angered that they’d taken away from everything else she’d said.

“I am ready to just relax and spend the weekend alone with you,” Kenny said as they walked down the hall. He grinned at her. “I told everyone to lose my number.”

Alex returned his smile, and Kenny lifted the back of her hand to his lips; but she barely noticed as he kissed her. She was too distracted by the group of people who had appeared in the corridor.

Best Friends. All of them. And it didn’t take long for Trent to say something.

“Where’re you going, Alex? Kris has a Dark match. Oh, wait—that’s right. You’ve moved on from us.”

“Dude,” Kris chastised and lightly smacked his shoulder. “Don’t.”

Kenny scoffed. “I’d listen to your alien friend, Trent.”

“No one was talking to you,” Orange returned.

Kenny narrowed his eyes at him. Alex squeezed his hand in protest; the last thing she needed was for him to go on one of his power trips. Thankfully, he let it go.

“I’ve already taken care of you, so I won’t embarrass you in front of your friends,” he dismissed. “Come on,” he said, and he started to pull Alex past them; but Trent just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Was that you giving that interview? Or were Kenny and Don pulling the strings on your mouth?”

“Fuck, Greg,” Chuck breathed—but Alex spoke over him.

“Was that you who sent that text Sunday night, or did one of them make you send it?”

She glared a hole through Trent, unwavering and angry, waiting for him to say something for himself. Anything. But he just bit down on his jaw, silent. Alex scoffed. It was just as she’d suspected.

“What text?” Kenny asked in confusion. Alex didn’t take her eyes off Trent as she answered.

“Trent sent me a text after Double Or Nothing apologizing for being a dick to me before your match. He said he ‘just didn’t know how to react’ to seeing me.”

“I didn’t know how to react,” Trent fired back.

“Oh, so it was just the apology that was bullshit, then.”

He breathed out and looked stubbornly away, nothing to say again. And as she continued to stare at him, Alex realized that she wasn’t surprised or even hurt by his reaction. Instead, she was vindicated in everything she’d been feeling.

Her gaze sharpened. “But since you asked so nicely; yeah, that was me giving that interview, one hundred percent. And you have no room to be angry about it, Trent, because whether you want to admit it or not, you all moved on from me months ago.”

Chuck’s brow furrowed in confusion. In hurt. “What? Alex—”

“Save it,” Kenny cut him off. “Good luck in your match, Kris,” he added, and then he tugged on Alex’s hand, and she turned and went with him, ignoring the way her sinuses burned.

[slade-neko]

Saw this video game tag thing pop up on my dash a few days ago. Wanted to do it.

1. First game you played obsessively? Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, I believe I was 5yo. Still waiting on that FF7 Remake treatment.

2. A game that has influenced you creatively? Writing, drawing, etc. Well if I play a game and like it, then I'll create sims of it. Does that count?

3. Who did you play with as a kid? My brother from the day I was born.

4. Who do you play with now? My brother FROM THE DAY I WAS BORN.

5. Ever use cheat codes? I wasn't lying when I made this post. {link}

6. Ever buy strategy guides? Yes! Mainly to look at the artwork though. (Don't need no guide!)

7. Any games you have multiple copies of? Lots of games, most being Left 4 Dead with 6 copies (3 Xbox 360, 1 PC case, 2 PC digitally.) What can I say, its a GOOD GAME!

8. Rarest/Most expensive game in your collection? Gold cartridge Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time (maybe that's rare?)

9. Most regrettable purchase? I don't regret my purchases, but I have received games I have never played like Cubix (PS2) no clue where that game came from, but I have it somehow. Madagascar (Xbox 360) came with my Xbox 360, never opened it from its case. And Monsters Inc. Scream Arena (Gamecube) or something... it was a gift.

10. Ever go to a midnight game release or stand in line for hours? No, because then I'd have to interact with people.

11. Have you ever made new friends from playing video games? I'm only friends with people BECAUSE of video games, so yes.

12. Ever get picked on for liking games? No, that'd be ridiculous.

13. A game you’ve never played that everyone else has? Probably a lot, I'd say Call of Duty, but I technically played CoD 1, 2, and 4. The campaign mode was alright, but I don't really care for CoD games at ALL.

14. Favorite game music? Koji Kondo and Grant Kirkhope are two BIG ones.

15. If it was a requirement to get a game related tattoo, what would you pick? Triforce is the most basic option, but I'd rather not get a tattoo.

16. Favorite game to play with your friends IRL? Super Smash Bros. Brawl with hacks, but that was over a decade ago.

17. Ever lose a friend over a game? No, that'd be ridiculous.

18. Would you date someone that hates gaming? No, that'd be RIDICULOUS.

19. Favorite handheld console? PSP. 3DS is great, but PSP Monster Hunter has ALL of my portable gaming memories. Like playing in school after End of Grade tests with my friend.

20. Game that you know like the back of your hand? Sims 4 I like to think I know everything about Left 4 Dead. Quite a bit about Monster Hunter, more so of a series though than a specific game.

21. Game that you didn’t like or understand as a kid but love now? I'd say Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic. I loved it as a kid, but had a lot of complex pen & paper RPG mechanics that I never understood. I understand a lot more of it now, but its still complex as all heck. I just know you hit things, they die.

22. Do you wear game related clothing/accessories? That's the only thing I wear.

23. The game that you’ve logged the most hours into? Not sure so I'll list a few. Sims 4, Smash Bros. Brawl, Monster Hunter (its a series though), or Left 4 Dead

24. First Pokemon game? Leaf Green

25. Were you ever an arcade game player? No, don't like paying to play.

26. Ever form any gaming rivalries? No.

27. Game that makes you rage? I don't get mad at games, but I had a custom modded Hard Eight mutation in Left 4 Dead that is absolute bullsh*t!

28. Ever play in a tournament? No, because then I'd have to interact with people.

29. What is your gaming set up? A giant wall of video game consoles spanning from NES to Switch, 4 TVs, but I sit at a desk with a PC.

30. How many consoles do you own? "I own every console that's ever existed." - I Don't Play Games When I Play Games (My STRENTH) original song by Smooth McGroove BUT no seriously I own 32 consoles including handhelds.

31. Does the 3DS and/or Virtual Boy hurt your eyes or give you headaches? Yes. 3DS gave me headaches though I only really played with the 3D feature in Ocarina of Time 3D. I think my eyes broke because I couldn't get my 3D to work very well after.

32. Did you ever play a game based on your favorite show/cartoon/movie/comic? Sure I play games based on a lot of things. Literally any anime game. If I had to pick Dragon Ball Xenoverse is kinda like a dream Dragon Ball game. Oh, Attack on Titan 2 is pretty neat too!

33. Did you ever have any bootleg games or plug-n-play games? Some SEGA plug-n-play thing once. Played it like once and now its lost to time (or my closet.)

34. Do either of your parents play video games? Yes. Mom and Dad played NES Super Mario Bros. My Dad went HARD at that game until he saved the Princess. Then he quit forever.

35. Ever work in a game store? Or do you have a favorite game shop? "Hi. Welcome to Gamestop!"I never want to hear that again, but it was my main store until I went full digital/ online orders.

36. Have you ever shed actual blood, sweat or tears over a game? No, I don't tend to get upset or emotional, but Bill dying in Left 4 Dead made me pretty pissed.

37. Have you played E.T. for the Atari 2600? Do you think that’s the worst game ever, or do you have another nomination? Never played it. I don't really play "bad" games, but maybe Sims 4.

38. A game you’re ashamed to admit that you like? The Sims 4

39. A sequel that you would die for them to make? Dragon's Dogma 2 WHICH I think is actually in development, so I'd have to say Fallout New Vegas 2. C'mon Bethesda you cowards, hand the keys back over to Obsidian so they can make another good Fallout game!

40. What to you think of virtual reality headsets or motion controls? Two part question, two answers. VR Headset to immerse in world, yes. Motion Controls, no.

41. A genre that you just can’t get into? MOBAs and MMOs. I don't like paying to keep playing.

42. Maybe it wasn’t your first game, but what was the game that started you on your path to nerdiness? Nintendo 64 opened me up to what video games could be as a kid. Sad to say my parents' NES didn't really do that for me. And years later Fallout 3 was a big game changer for me too.

43. Ever play games when you really should have been concentrating on something else? Every day of my LIFE.

44. Arcade machine that has consumed the most of your quarters? None. I'd rather emulate.

45. How are you at Mario Kart? Pretty dang good. 3-STARS MARIO KART WII, BABY!

46. Do you like relaxing games like Animal Crossing or Harvest Moon? Yes, both of those. I preferred when Animal Crossing had more character to it. New Horizons looks so pretty, but feels so bland compared to classic AC.

47. Do you like competitive games? No. Not really. Usually amongst friends or if I can get competitive against AI Bots. I love my machine bot friends cause they don't cry like 10 year olds when they lose.

48. How long does it take your to customize your player character? Too long. I've seriously restarted games because I wasn't happy with my character's appearance.

49. In games where you can pick your class, do you always tend to go for the same type of character? Yes, I am always the magic man, my brother is always brute warrior, and my friend is the ranger.

50. If you were a game designer, what masterpiece would you create? I don't really know. Honestly, I'd rather mod already good games to make them better than create something completely new.

51. Have you ever played a game for so long that you forgot to eat or sleep? No, that'd be ridiculous. But I've had a friend fall asleep playing games at my house 3 different times and currently dozes off during our Minecraft sessions. So, maybe that's not a completely ridiculous thing after all.

52. A game that you begged your parents for as a kid? Kirby 64 apparently. My brother tells me we had to count out pennies to buy it. I must've been too young with no recollection, but I believe it.

53. What’s your opinion on DLC these days? It's good if its not in the game's files from the beginning and is actually developed AFTER launch... and pre-order bonuses should be standard DLC a month or two later. Some games have content lost to time because of that pre-order bullsh*t.

54. Do you give in to Steam sales? Of course. If you want a game and its on sale then why not? I typically wait just for Steam sales to get games.

55. Did you ever make someone you hated in the Sims and did mean stuff to them? No? I typically make people and characters I like in Sims. I've made villains like Dio, but he's an anime villain and I don't really HATE him despite the horrible things he's done.

56. Did you ever play Roller Coaster Tycoon and kill off your guests? No. Never played that game.

57. Did you ever play a game to 100% or get all of the achievements? I try to for all the games I really like.

58. If you can only play 3 games for the rest of your life, which ones do you pick? The Sims 4, Skyrim, & Fallout: New Vegas. Mods make them live forever. Left 4 Dead and Monster Hunter are good choices too.

59. Do you play any cell phone games? Those aren't games.

60. Do you know the Konami Code? No? But I'll take a guess. Is it make an IP and forget it exists?

61. Do you trade in your games or keep them forever? Keep forever... even the bad ones.

62. Ever buy a console specifically to play one game? PS4 Pro for Monster Hunter World. It was basically for early access since the PC version was being developed and releasing after PS4, but I don't like waiting.

63. Ever go to a gaming convention or tournament? Sort of. Been to anime cons and walked into the gaming tournament rooms only to walk out less than 10 minutes later.

64. Ever make a TV or monitor purchase based on what would be best for gaming? No, but I'm going to be doing that soon, hopefully.

65. Ever have a Game Genie, Game Shark or Action Replay? Did it ever mess up your game’s save file? GameShark for N64, PS2, Gameboy, and Action Replay for Gamecube, DS, 3DS. And no not really, I would cheat responsibly... but there was this one time at school my friend and I borrowed another friend's Gameboy game, loaded it up with my Gameshark, tried playing, it crashed, loaded it back up, save file corrupted... we just stared at each other jaws dropped, "Here's your game back, dude. Make sure you don't play it til you get back home!"

66. Did you ever have have an old Nokia with Snake on it? No, but I remember seeing them on billboards in the game DRIV3R on PS2.

67. Do you have a happy gaming-related childhood memory you want to share? Every game I play is filled with happy memories (mostly.)

68. Ever save up a ton of tickets in an arcade to get something cool? These tiger plushes. My brother got white and I got orange. They were the coolest. Got a butt load of tickets from some jackpot spinning light game thing as I was good at the timing with repeated jackpot hits.

69. In your opinion, best game ever made? I've played quite a few masterpiece games, but to pick one, I'd say Fallout: New Vegas

70. Very first game you ever beat? Super Mario 64. I was a mere child on a Sunday morning and ate celebratory pancakes made by my Dad.

Wow, that was long... I get the feeling this was supposed to be a "send me ask with numbers" thing, but answering all at once is more fun.

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Q&A

Simple Questions for Seigi-kun (Parts 1 and 2)

Thank you very much for these questions from several people. We had Seigi-kun take a look at everyone’s questions right away and answer as many as he could! Not all of them can be published, but please enjoy Seigi-kun’s answers!

Q.: Seigi-kun looks good with black short hair, but is there any hairstyle that he looks up to? It does not seem to have changed much from when he was a child, but there is this impression that people often do college debuts, so here goes this simple question. The photo on the cover of volume 6 was wonderful. His set-back hair looked very good on him. (Black Short Hair-san)

A.: Hello! I guess it’s the first time I was told that my hair style looks good on me aside from Nakata-san and Richard; thank you very much! As for an image I look up to, huuum, there wasn’t any in particular when I was little, but nowadays, I look up to the two I just mentioned. They’re of different vectors and just really cool! Ah… this is embarrassing, so please keep it a secret. I have the feeling that they already know, though.

Q.: Any words you want to send to your past self from before meeting Richard? (Inu-san)

A.: “Nakata Seigi, you might be reckless, but you technically haven’t done anything wrong! Probably! Hum, you’re mostly thoughtless! But you’re not mistaken! If you see someone being attacked in a park, don’t hesitate to shout and go help him! Also, you might be compensated for doing your best at cooking. Good on you.”

Eh? There’s something from Richard too? “Seigi-kun, you are already passionate enough, but make sure to take a better look at your surroundings. Make sure to cherish yourself. Also, if you get invited to work at a TV station in Shibuya, make sure to just accept it.” Ah, yeah, yeah! I’m also counting on myself for that last one.

Q.: I am a college student just like Seigi-kun. When I have free time, I play video games, read books and talk about fun things with my friends. Seigi-kun, what do you do? Do you read books about gemstones and study after all? (Anzu-san)

A.: Hello! Indeed, during my free time when I didn’t have classes, there were times when I’d do self-study and learn about stones, but when I got together with my friends in the cafeteria or lounge, we’d get roused up over trivial talk. Everyone had a rough idea of the timing they should focus on their studies, so when I think about it nowadays, that might’ve been a “let’s make racket while we can” kind of mood. Looking back on it now, it was fun.

Q.: I am bound to fail every time I make sweets. If there is any trick to making sweets, please tell me. (Satou-san from the Heavens)

A.: Aah… I feel like someone’s already asked me a similar question. Ahem. T-That’s right! First things first, let’s try to stop treating “sweets” like they’re special! I guess this is the trick I can think of. They’re simply like an arithmetic test or a chemistry experiment; it just so happens that, if you mix up the set ingredients, a chemical reaction occurs and you reach the same results. If you lead it to the decided answer, you’ll manage to make something tasty, is all. Try to stick strictly to the recipe, and if it still doesn’t turn out right, I think it’s good to do a reflection on where you might’ve gotten it wrong. Eh…? If it doesn’t go well even then…? Aah… I’m gonna leave my phone number here, so if you have anything you want to eat… Eh? Richard, you want me to knock it off? That’s right. It’s not like I always have time. I almost did something irresponsible. Sorry. I’m cheering for you! See ya!

Q.: Where do you start washing your body from? (Yukinekoya-san)

A.: I’ve never thought about that~! It’s from the hair, but that’s with shampoo and doesn’t count as my body, so… *moves his body as if scrubbing it* I start washing from the neck and ears! But what’re you gonna do by asking that?

Q.: What’s your favorite meat? (Reihenbach-san)

A.: If its for Japanese curry, pork! If it’s for Sri Lanka’s curry, fish or chicken! If it’s for sukiyaki, cattle! I love all kinds of meat! But what flashes in my mind regarding “my favorite meat” is the meat and potato stew that Hiromi used to make, so I guess it’s gotta be beef. There wasn’t much meat in it, so I was able to taste it rather well.

Q.: I am a middle school teacher; Seigi-kun, who was the teacher that left the biggest impression on you? Please leave out Richard-sensei! (Kikuchi-san)

A.: Ah, that question is relatively easy to answer. It’s someone named Yamazaki-sensei, who was my class teacher in high school. He’s a graduate from the faculty of economics at Kasaba University, and he’d compliment me at random. Like, “You sure are working hard” or, “You’re so smart”. So I got cheeky, admired him, and when I told him I wanted to be like him, he said, “Then, how about you aim for my alma mater?” and I replied with, “Yes!”… Since Kasaba is a private institution, it was just a suggestion where I was getting ahead with my feelings, but though Hiromi made a bitter face, she wasn’t against it. Maybe she thought it was better than having her son say that he wanted to start working after graduating from middle school. Sensei was transferred when I was in my first year in university, but I hope he’s doing well.

Q.: Seigi-kun, if you were to compare Richard to an animal, which do you think it would be? (Himawari-san)

A.: If Richard were an animal… I wonder which. Richard feels a bit like an animal even now, so it’s hard, but I’d say human…? No, Richard is a human being. My bad, my bad. An animal with whooshy golden hair and blue eyes… I once had the feeling that the air about him is a bit like a creature named miacis, which I saw before in some illustrated reference book. It’s an ancient animal and seems to be the ancestor of dogs, cats and the like, and its exact appearance isn’t known anymore, but when I think of it as the origin of the beauty of all the animals I like, I wonder if he wouldn’t be something along those lines… Richard, Richard? Why won’t you look at me in the eye?

Q.: Is there any time you laughed the most when you were with Richard-san? Alternatively, if there was any time where you ended up laughing without thinking, please tell me! I am rooting for you! (Heartbreak Akira-san)

A.: Eeh…? Is it okay for me to talk about this…? Ah, I’ve received permission, so I’ll say it. Erm, this is a story from when I was studying French; I suddenly felt like doing a prank when I couldn’t make any progress at all, so I asked Richard-sensei something nonsensical, like, “If you don’t mind, please say ‘steamed bun’ in a really French-like way; I think it’ll definitely sound French to me”. And then the answer that came at me was a perfectly French-styled “steamed bun”… I died of laughter. Sorry for being too descriptive with the details. If you have a French friend close to you, I think you should try to make the same request. I think it won’t sound like Japanese to you. It’s already a bit amusing just remembering it. Hey, Richard. You didn’t find it all that funny? Ah, it was funny when I rolled over laughing? Then I guess we can call it even.

Q.: What are the dishes and desserts that you want to try challenging yourself to make? (Tsugiumi-san)

A.: I get interested in the stuff that I think looks delicious, but they’re a little different from the things I decide to try my hand at making. Richard, is there anything you wanna eat? I’ve noticed this recently: I don’t have much will to make stuff only I want to eat, but if it’s something that someone important to me feels like eating, I suddenly get motivated. That’s why, if there’s… Ah, ah, why’re you punching the cushion?

Q.: Looking at Richard-san and Jeffrey-san, are there any moments or points in which you feel that they are similar? (Yoshimura-san)

A.: Yoshimura-san, hello. There are; from my perspective, there are many. There sure are, but… from the face that the person next to me is making, it seems better not to say too much about it. Let me put this one on hold.

Q.: What was your favorite school lunch menu? For lunch boxes, what were your favorite contents? (Nanatsuji-san)

A.: Hello! I used to like all the school lunch dishes, but as expected, curry was what made me happiest. As for lunch boxes, I’d mostly get an allowance to buy the sandwiches and lunch boxes I liked, and whenever I got more than 500 yen, I’d get to buy a large serving of hayashi rice and would be happy over it. After all, the servings have to be big for a school boy, if nothing else.

Q.: If you switched bodies with Richard upon waking up, what is the first thing you would do? (Sango-san)

A.: Eh...? How? Would it be magic or something? I’d probably think, “Is this a dream?” and go back to sleep. But why would I be in Richard’s body...? I wonder if my head would malfuction from talking too much about how beautiful he is and things would turn out like that. If I got cocky and tried to imitate Richard, I feel like he’d give me one hell of a cold look with those elegant eyes of his, so hum, I wouldn’t do anything, just sleep until the magic wore off. I also think that Richard would be happier when I have the face of Nakata Seigi rather than his own.

Q.: When did you get your growth spurt? (Middle Schooler-san)

A.: Does that mean the time when I got taller? I think it was either in my third year of middle school or first year of high school. It was neither too late nor early among my friends, so while not minding it much, I ended up surpassing Hiromi’s height.

Q.: Seigi-kun, hello.  ♪  Seigi-kun, what kind of fashion do you like? Where do you normally buy clothes? Also, have you changed your style or been influenced after meeting Richard? If you can, please tell us. (*^^*) (Yuriko-san)

A.: Hello! Fashion, huuh... To be honest, before I started working in Étranger, I used to feel like I only needed to keep my clothes as clean as necessary and that they were okay as long as they didn’t look sloppy, but as expected, once you enter a jewelry shop, the number of clothes with high collars increases. Then, I met Richard, and ever since I started working for him, my opportunities to wear a suit increased, but what he often tells me is, “Wear what you like however you like the most you can within the limits”, and speaking of which, I kinda seem to look up to suits with a large silhouette and felt hats, like the ones people used to wear in prewar days. I think this is probably the influence of an actor my Grandma liked. In the past, there was a black-and-white photo of him decorating the apartment where Grandma lived. It would’ve been great if I could’ve showed myself wearing a suit to Grandma.

Q.: Seigi-kun, hello! A question for you. Seigi-kun’s “senpai”, Vincent-san, is a user of Jeet Kune Do, but you are also a black belt at Karate, so I am very curious about what would happen if the two of you actually fought. Since you both master your own matrial arts, so I feel that I would be able to see a cool fight between you. Also, this is just my ponderings, but Seigi-kun, I want you to tell me, from your point of view, how strong you think Vincent-san is and what changes you have of winning. (Monaka-san)

A.: Hello! Erm, when you say “fight”, is it okay to interpret it as a head-on brawl? I think you probably do not practice any martial arts, Monaka-san, so I am going to answer based on that: martial arts abilities and fight abilities are completely different. See, the rules of each martial art are pre-determined, and if you fight within them, you won’t suffer serious injuries and you can decide who wins or loses, but there’s none of that in a brawl, so... Also, I believe both parties know that, if a person who did martial arts to some extent hits someone in earnest, it’ll result in something that can’t be undone, so I think they can’t bring themselves to throw fists with each other. But on the other hand, since we can tell to some degree that we both seem to have have this awereness, I think it’s okay if I so much as throw a paper ball at the back of his head. Vince-san might hit me back, and then I guess I’d fling a straw bag at him next. We might get along a bit better if we both let it out. Sorry that it’d be the light type! I hope this served as an answer.

Q.: A question for Nakata Seigi-kun! To be precise: is there anything that makes you go, “This is the one thing I want to tell Richard-shi!!”~? Even if it is something that is normally hard to say, you might be able to say it here. (*^^*) (Sui-san)

A.: “I’m happy when you eat my pudding; thanks! But I’m begging, for health reasons, that you’re at least careful not to eat too much...! I wanna be with you for a long time. Please. And... also... thanks for always. I’m so grateful to you that I can’t say it enough. It’d be great if I could.” This is it! Aah, that was embarrassing. Eh? “You’re always telling me that much”, you say? Is that so?

Q.: What is your favorite sweet? (Tanaka Milk Tea-san)

A.: That’s a difficult theme... I don’t seem to have any that I’m obsessed with, but anything looks delicious to me if it’s a sweet that Richard eats with relish, so I grow to like it. But when Richard doesn’t eat all of a sweet and leaves some of it, I go, “Could it be he left it for me because he thought I’d like it?” and they also turn out to be so, so tasty. Basically, I like everything. Unless I buy and eat it by myself.

Q.: Nice to meet you; as Seigi-kun faces people very straightforward and honestly, I read every volume while confirming over and over that I also want to live on facing people like that. Is there anything that the aforementioned Seigi-kun always puts in his bag? (Sumiyaki Yuuma-san)

A.: Sumiyaki-san, hello! Being told that I face people honestly is flattering. I do think it’d be great if I actually manage that, but the “honesty” I’m thinking about is my own concept of it, so it’s not like this honesty is something only comfortable for the other person. That’s why being told so makes me all the happier. Thank you. This is from after meeting Richard, but what I always have in my bag is candy. Royal-milk-tea-flavored ones. When I don’t have them, I pack in some other sweet, and just from thinking, “I’d give him this if he were here”, it kinda feels like having a fragment of him with me even when he’s not by my side, and it’s reassuring. It helps me out. Other than that, my phone. Thanks for the question!

[puckyess]

Love Her Like I Didn’t | Owen Lindmark

See if you can pick out which paragraph @penaltbox wrote! & In case y’all didn’t know, I hate angst.

** FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED **

Words: 1.9k

Owen leaned against his headboard with his head tilted up, staring at the ceiling. He wondered how he had gotten to this point and whether or not it was the right move to do what he was about to do. He switched apps to look at the photo once more, sucking in a breath just like he had the first time he’d seen the picture of you with your bright smile and his arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind. Sure, he’d assumed you’d move on from him eventually, to some douchebag guy who he could hate, but he’d never expected it to be with his teammate. He closed his eyes and tried to level his breathing out, feeling like he’d been sucker punched. It was a Friday night, they had a bye week, he should be out with the boys and not wallowing. And yet here he was, feeling like he had the first day of the breakup, if he could even call it that. Technically you two had never officially been together.

Shay was a good teammate and all, but Owen wasn’t sold on you not being with himself. Shay didn’t know you like he did. He’d buy you food and expect you to eat it, not knowing that you were picky as hell, but you also wouldn’t want to make him feel bad so you’d force yourself to eat it anyway. He wouldn’t appreciate the way you mumble, he’d just tell you to speak up instead. He wouldn’t think the baseline between your neck and face is beautiful the way Owen always did. Shay sees the many knots in your hair and thinks ‘my god she’s a mess’ whereas O would say ‘my god she’s perfect’. He’ll notice that you wear the same 5 tshirts and sweats and chirp you for it but Owen always loved it, especially when they were his. He should have told you it more often, too. Owen hates the thought of Shay getting to put his lips where O first let his own drift and explore across your soft skin. He doesn’t like that he won’t get to hear you singing all around the apartment anymore or in the car, which he adored even when it was off key. He’ll miss the playlists you always made and hearing you rap all the songs from middle school. He won’t hear Morgan Wallen the same again after all those times you belted the lyrics every chance you could. He won’t get to see you at 8am all grumpy over being up that early or grinning over a stack of pancakes at brunch. Shay won’t know where your scars came from or why it is that you flinch when he’ll spread his hand out on your stomach. How long will it take him to notice that you smile even when you need to break down because you’re always so strong for everyone? Owen can tell with one glance these days. Is he going to wipe the corner of your mouth or your shirt every time you two go out to eat? You’re clumsy, that was no secret, but Owen always just helped with a soft, ‘it’s okay, baby; it happens’. Owen hates the thought that one day Shay could know you that well, or worse, better than he does. You were his girl, his person. He could go on and on about things he doesn’t want Shay to know, ways he doesn’t want Shay understanding the real you. Every thought that rolls through his mind is like a knife twisting in his heart.

He’d done this to himself though. He told you from the beginning that he hadn’t wanted anything serious & you were fine with that, never really expecting to tie down a college hockey player turned future NHL’er anyway. He’d repeated the phrase every time he felt himself getting butterflies. The first time was when he was having a conversation with the boys in the middle of the bar and he’d known you’d just arrived because he instantly felt warm. Turning around, his intuition would be right. He was drawn to you and your presence. He’d say it when he was around the boys playing video games and you’d be in between his legs and he’d lose track of the game, watching you. He’d repeat it when his eyes searched for you in the hall after every home game and when he made it a point to call or FaceTime you on the way home from every roadie, even the bad ones. No, especially on the bad ones. And he’d really repeat it when he couldn’t sleep because you weren’t there curled up next to him. He’d repeat it to his mom and brothers and cousins and anyone who would listen because if he said it enough times, then maybe he would believe it.

You could tell things were getting to be different, a little more than just friends. The looks he’d give you, the nights you’d spend in each other’s arms just talking, and the amount of time you would spend together. But you didn’t push for more and he was appreciative of that.

The final straw had been when he’d drunkenly almost told you he loved you after you forced him to go out with his team. A decision they had regretted when they spent their night consoling him for you not being there, only made better by FaceTiming you. They delivered him back to you in one very drunken piece and he’d almost let it slip past his lips after you had washed his face, claiming he’d thank you for it in the morning, and tucked him into bed. He got as far as “I lo-“ and even in his drunken state, he could see what it did to you. How hopeful you’d looked. He’d gotten too comfortable and leading you on wasn’t fair. He was leaving soon and you were going to go back to your life, to achieve all of your goals and forget about him. He was doing this for you, or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Never mind the fact that he’d let himself for a split second think about what he was feeling and how real and terrifying it was. He couldn’t give you what you deserved and he knew that. So he closed out of the picture and reopened his notes app, hoping that he could give some words of advice to his teammate so that he could. He didn’t even know where to begin; you deserved the world and then some.

Shay, I’m writing this because I need you to give Y/N the very best and if you can benefit from my fuck up then so be it. She doesn’t deserve to be broken again and though I know she’s strong enough to pick herself back up, she shouldn’t have to. Please love her the way I never showed her.

Don’t make her pick the restaurant, it stresses her out because she doesn’t want to choose something that you won’t be happy with.

She’s not herself when she’s hangry. She doesn’t know what she wants to eat and she doesn’t mean whatever insult she throws your way. Just make a list of her favorite foods and offer them to her, even if it’s all the way across town. You’ll thank me later. 

Let her control the music. The songs she picks will often be a sign of what she’s feeling. If you’re lucky, you’ll see a whole new side of her.

Don’t make fun of her singing, she’ll never sing for you again

Family is important to her, make sure you earn her mother’s respect 

Don’t let her go to bed without washing her face, no matter how many times she tells you she’s tired or it’s fine. It’s not fine, she’ll thank you the next day. 

Compliment her all the time, even when she doesn’t accept them. She really needs to get better at that

Take her out of her comfort zone every once in a while. She loves to try new things but rarely does so on her own 

She loves to have her hair played with, especially when she’s stressed or can’t fall asleep

Don’t make her feel second to hockey. Ever. 

Don’t make the age gap a big deal, because it’s not. 

Defend her especially when she’s not around. Don’t you dare let anyone speak bad on her name. She doesn’t deserve that. 

Talk hockey with her, she loves that but doesn’t want to bother you with that in case you’re tired of it 

Don’t entertain any of the girls that slide in your DMs. Don’t even like the picture. You can let her know or even show her your DMs but don’t rub it in her face either. 

Trust her. There will be other guys that try to steal her. She’s a catch, but you can’t let that get to your head. She’s loyal to a fault. 

She’s going to doubt herself, that’s just how it is. You just have to do everything in your power to let her know you only want her. 

Really let her get to know you. All your hockey stories, why you got into hockey, what that guy on the ice was saying. Not the bullshit “it started at a really young age “stuff either. She won’t judge you. Open up to her.

Chirp her. She can handle it. 

Treat her right, I mean it. Don’t fuck this up. She’s the best thing that will ever happen to you. I mean that. 

Tell her you love her. Say it 100 times over and say it with purpose. Tell her the second that you realize you love her. Don’t make her wait for it like I did. Don’t make her ever question whether or not you love her like I did. Don’t be too proud to say it because she deserves to hear it and I was stupid enough to think it didn’t mean anything, that it wasn’t a big deal and I lost her. Maybe this should be #1 but I didn’t want you to fucking forget it.

Finishing his list, he took another deep, steadying breath & lightly chuckled to himself. This was it. He was really giving his teammate advice on how to keep his girl. He cursed himself. This wasn’t about him and you weren’t his girl anymore. You deserved more and if this is what his part was now, then to hell with his own happiness.

His thumb hit send as he shared the list with Shay. He threw his phone across the room, his hands running through his hair and pulling in frustration, a pained groan falling from his lips. Minutes later his phone was playing Whiskey Glasses, your ringtone and your picture flashing across his screen. He hadn’t heard from you since your ”breakup”, much to his disappointment. He flew across the room to retrieve the phone and immediately picked up.

“Hello?” He answered breathless, craving the sound of your voice.

“What the hell, Owen?! You can’t just...what am I supposed to…” your voice was raw and you were at a loss for words besides the burning question in your mind. Even though you were terrified of the answer, you forced the question past your lips.

“Did you— Do you mean it?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Ohmygod”, he said in realization. Putting you on speaker he opened his notes app and looked at who he’d shared the list with.

Shared with one person: “Y/N”.

[soundofseventeen]

How Would You Feel (Chwe Hansol)

It’s still technically your birthday, so I’m not late!!!!!! Happy birthday, @dvoz-writes​!!! Never forget how much we love you!!!! And this also works (a little) for our 2/18 birthday boys!!!!

Word count: 3000

Inspo: How Would You Feel

The first time Hansol almost said he loved you, he had bumped into you on a busy Saturday night. He remembered walking backwards as he admired the bright lights illuminating one of the movie theaters and straight into you, which made you lose the perfect shot of the town clock striking midnight. He turned around the moment he made contact with you and in a split second, his vocabulary flew out the window and something jolted inside his brain. It processed “Sorry,” in English but it crossed with his Korean, and the “Sar-” was already ready to fly out his mouth and he caught it, finally stumbling out his apology.

Luckily for him, you didn’t notice the slip up, but you were trying not to fall captive to his brown eyes and the lights making them sparkle didn’t really help your case. Instead, you assured him that accidents happened and when you saw his shirt and recognized the group. You asked him a question, followed by another, and then ten minutes later, he invited you to a small coffee shop to further discuss the group. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen them a lot of times,” he admitted shyly, sipping on his hot chocolate, “they’re really good live and it’s always worth the money. How about you?”

“I try to go to as many shows as possible. They’re my favorite outside of kpop.” You stirred your own coffee pensively, unsure whether to tell this stranger your deepest regret. Well, he wasn’t a stranger; you would’ve been a fool not to recognize Hansol Vernon Chwe, but he was still someone you didn’t know. “One of their shows I missed, this most recent one I couldn’t afford to go because work hates me and I need the money, but they said it was their best one yet.”

“Oh yeah, I went to that one. They added a song that wasn’t normally on the set, and I recorded it.” He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through it as if his life depended on it. “There it is.” He debated whether to show you. He was aware you knew him, but he appreciated the way you treated him like a normal person. He hadn’t felt this way around anyone in awhile, so he handed it to you.

“No way,” you gasped when you pressed play. “This is my favorite song. I mean, I saw it on YouTube and everything but-” you didn’t finish your sentence, you hand covering your mouth in awe and shock. You could feel the tears coming but you wouldn’t cry. Not tonight in front of an idol.

Hansol cocked his head, processing all your emotions, feeling the smile coming on and he didn’t fight it. His heart did a thing, and for a moment, he regretted not telling you he loved you, but then he remembered he didn’t know you or your name, and he wanted to know you. The moment the song finished and he locked eyes with you, he knew he had fallen in love with you.

*

The second time he almost told you he loved you, it was after he invited you to come with him to see his family. Sofia had a thing to do and after countless hours of begging him that he needed to see this, he relented and you crossed his mind, and he said he’d go on the condition that he could bring a friend and she agreed. So he called you, and he left you a voicemail when you didn’t pick up, when he forgot that you worked that day. You called him a couple hours later on your break (leaving your own voicemail because he had idol duties to attend to) and let him know that you cleared a few days off the ones in question. 

The look on Sofia’s face when she had opened the door and saw you instead of one of the members was amusing, to say the least, but she warmed up to you really quickly. She still had a few hours until she had to go to a school graduation, one that had asked her to sing the Korean national anthem so she was doing everything she could to keep her nerves under control. You were currently on the floor, playing a board game and they were both yelling at you and accusing you of cheating. Even through everyone's fit of giggles, Sofia couldn’t miss the way your competitive streak came out and how Hansol just egged your annoyance on. A few rounds later, you called it quits by throwing your cards on the board, mostly because it was time for the little sister to start getting ready and because when it was siblings against the one person, they usually won. You reached over and mussed Sofia’s hair and she jumped up quickly, claiming she needed to shower before everyone was late. You helped Vernon pick up the game, joining in his sing-along and him telling you about how he grew up and pointing to the various juice stains on the ceiling and showing you all his favorite books. 

Sofia found you both in the kitchen about 20 minutes later, huddled over bowls of cereal and arguing over which was the best one and she announced it was time to go.

Although you only stayed at the graduation for a few minutes, everyone treated Sofia as if she had performed a full concert and everyone was now celebrating it, not that there were any complaints. Everyone was having a good time; the parents were drinking and he saw you and Sofia squeezing your eyes shut from the pain that brain freeze brought. He looked at the milkshake cups, his sister having drunk more than you did and he decided to help you out by eating as much as he could before his own brain freeze followed. He placed his palms on his temples, exhaling deeply, his breath cold and he still laughed along with you. 

Later that night, once everyone was sound asleep, he snuck to the kitchen to get a glass of water and stopped at seeing you still up. He watched the way you turned the page intently and how you struggled to keep the flashlight on your phone steady. He smiled, the thirst no longer a problem to him and instead thumped the couch cushion to get your attention.

You jumped, the light blinding you momentarily as you heard Hansol laughing. “I’m gonna kill you,” you whispered.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Sofia gave me this book and I wanna finish it before we go home.”

He liked the way you said we; it seemed like you were on the same team. Home too. It was like he pictured his future with you looking at him the way you were if he ever accidentally dropped your favorite mug on a night like this. Again, the “Sa-” was on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know how you’d react, so he had to switch tactics asap. “Sofia has good taste. She’s the reason I grew to like books. Even if we have to stay a little longer, we will. Or I can just buy you a copy...but we have to have joint custody.”

“Sounds like a deal, Chwe.”

*

The third time he almost said it, you had managed to pull off a surprise birthday party for not one but two boys....with the help of the ‘95 line helping you decorate the place, the ‘96 line going out and buying the ingredients you needed to make the birthday boys a cake for each of them; Mingyu and Minghao taking Seokmin to go to a carnival in the next town, and Seungkwan and Chan taking Hansol to a record store and buying some stuff. Hansol had wanted to spend the day with you but he had been under the impression that you had to work that day and that his respective brothers had some recording to attend to. 

(It wasn’t easy to pull it off, considering Hansol kept bugging Seungcheol every few minutes, asking when the maknae line was due to arrive to the studio and Minghao asking Jeonghan how else to distract Seokmin. Your efforts were almost blown when the front door slammed open and you dropped the frosting, and you couldn’t help but beat Chan (he was alone) with the dishrag you used to pick up the mess. 

“When you marry Vernon hyung, you still better be spoiling him like this because it’d be false advertising as my future in-law,” he said eyeing the sink and pulling out a dirty spoon you used to make the frosting. He didn’t think twice as he licked the chocolate.

“I have no intentions of marrying Vernon.”

“Your loss,” he shrugged and turned to the oldest boy. “Hyung, are you almost done here? I’m tired of hearing Kwannie hyung sing all the songs on his phone.”

“Almost. Just be patient.” And with that, Chan left satisfied, and Seungcheol looked at you trying to focus on the last of Seokmin’s cake. “So is it okay if I ask you what’s going on with you and Nonie? Or is that too personal?”

You shook your head. “Nothing’s going on. We’re just friends.” The blush on your cheeks and your trembling hands didn’t exactly help your case but Cheol was kind enough to drop the subject.)

You weren't exactly sure how you managed to balance Vernon’s chocolate cake and Seokmin’s red velvet one but you did, even singing the birthday song when the boys in question processed what you were doing some few hours later when they walked in the front door. Once they made their wish and blew out the candles, Seokmin gleefully grabbed his cake and skipped to the table, sticking his finger into the frosting and licking it clean. He paraded across the room, showing it off to everyone and gloating that he had the bestest friend in the whole world. Hansol, merely took the cake with one hand and gave you a side hug as tightly as he could manage before Soonyoung intervened and grabbed the dessert so he could hug you with both.

“Happy birthday Hansol,” you whispered. “I hope this was okay.”

“Wait, this was you?”

“Well, I had help. I couldn’t have done this without your group mates.” You pulled away with a gasp. “Oh crap! I forgot your gift! I’m so sorry!”

“Why would you get me a gift after doing all this?”

“Because it’s your birthday.” 

“Did you get something for DK?”

The horrified look on your face told him everything he needed to know and he marched right up to his birthday twin who had somehow been able to find somewhere to sit and was currently stuffing his face with Junhui and you couldn’t tell who looked more like a chipmunk and you hoped someone would get a picture of these two looking like that because your heart multiplied. 

“Hey hyung?”

“Mmm?” He looked up at you, face full of frosting and he swallowed loudly. He scrambled for a napkin and wiped at the spots frantically. “Yeah?”

“So would you be bummed if we didn’t get gifts from our friend here?”

“The surprise party wasn’t a gift?” You had yet to get used to Seokmin’s naïtivty and his knack for being easily surprised.

Hansol shook his head. “Never mind. Enjoy your cake hyungdeul.” He turned back to you. “See? You don’t need to give us more than this.”

“So you like it?”

“I love y-” He froze the moment the words almost slipped out and just started coughing to thwart his speech, and didn’t speak again until you had given him some water. “Sorry...I meant to say that I love it. Thank you Y/N. I have the greatest friend in the world.” 

Various offended “heys” sounded throughout and he reiterated slightly. “Besides you guys.”

*

The fourth time he almost told you he loved you, you were in his car in your front yard after coming back from your first date together. You kept leaning over to the driver’s side and stealing kisses from him and all he could do was relish in them and kiss you back. 

“So has anyone ever made you this happy?” you asked him. 

He shook his head. “I can’t remember the last time I was like this.” He welcomed the warm feeling of your hand caressing his cheek gently. “Have you ever had this much fun?”

“Once,” you admitted. “I went to visit some friends and somehow we all stayed up past our normal bedtime just looking at the sky and feeling at peace. It wasn’t a big thing or anything, but it was just us, all the stars and all the wishes we made. A lot of them have come true since then.” You looked over at him, not saying more. “What’s the dumbest thing you ever wished for?”

He covered your hand with his before bringing it to his lips to kiss them repeatedly. “It wasn’t dumb but I remember putting it on my Christmas list every year. I just wanted to go back to New York. At least there, no one gave a shit if you were black, white, mixed, missing an eye or tooth or whatever.” He brought you close to him to kiss you again. “Why did you agree to go on a date with me?”

“I figured it was about time to be real with my feelings and you.” You smiled at him. “I’d been wanting to tell you for awhile, but you beat me to it.”

He nodded slowly, liking the answer. He leaned in for another kiss, but his phone ringing disturbed the moment, and just for that he ignored it. “I should get going. Can I walk you inside?”

When you nodded, he quickly removed his seatbelt and ran to the passenger side to open the door for you. As soon as you were out, he wrapped his arms around you, back hugging you and kissing your cheek. He finally felt like a rebellious teenager to be doing this with you. It was a little past curfew, you had to be up early and so did he, but he didn’t want this moment to end. He was even more in love with you than ever before.

“Hansol, you have to go,” you whined after you realized he didn’t plan on moving from that spot.

“A few more minutes,” he sighed. “I don’t wanna let you go just yet.”

“Either you do now, or Seungcheol will pry you away from me if you're not home in the next ten minutes.”

“I’m not scared of that grandpa.”

“You hear that Cheol?” 

And with that, his head snapped up, looking in all directions for the leader, already looking for words to excuse his actions. “You liar.”

“I thought you weren’t scared.”

“I’m not,” he pouted, but then he sighed. “Do we really have to say goodbye?”

“I don’t want you to go either.” You reached for his hand so he could finally walk you to your front door. “Hansol, thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime. Thank you for agreeing. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He waited for you to unlock the door so you could go in and just as you were about to close the door, he called you.

“Yeah?”

“Sa-” The saranghae didn’t go past his throat; neither could the I love you, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Sleep well.”

*

The fifth time he almost told you he loved you, he had convinced you to sit on the roof with him at his house. You had long ago admitted to him that you had never seen a sunrise, so he vowed that the next time neither of you had plans, he was gonna invite you to Seventeen’s dorm to make you watch it. Two months later, it happened, and he spent the day making sure he had everything to spend the night up on the roof with you, and despite the chilly air, it was worth it. 

You sat in between his legs and he had his arms wrapped around you, often tightening around you every time he felt overcome with emotion. He would take your hand and trace a pattern in the sky with your finger and then tell you the name of the constellation. You offered him your earbuds sometime during the night, and you took turns listening to your favorite songs, singing along to all the words. 

Every time you could feel yourself nodding off, Hansol would gently shake you awake and offer you something to snack on so you could stay awake. “We’re almost there Jagi,” his hoarse voice would encourage you. “Just a little longer.” And then he would kiss your cheek and cuddle you a little more.

You were both blissfully unaware of the 12 other boys spying on you and seeing what you were currently doing. More often than not, someone had to stop Soonyoung from barging in and interrupting, but they quietly left out extra blankets and water bottles and other snacks by the window so neither of you would have to move much. 

Finally, the first few rays of sunlight came peeking through over the horizon. It wasn’t much at first, but then suddenly, the whole world seemed to wake up along with it. You could hear the birds chirping and the insects buzzing, and everything warming up. 

“What do you think?”

You nodded, finally closing your eyes and resting against his chest. “It’s beautiful,” you managed to mumble sleepily. Can we do this again?”

“As many times as you want,” he promised.

“Okay, good.”

He waited a little longer in case you had more to add, but the only thing he could feel was you breathing in and out deeply and evenly, finally fast asleep. “Hey Jagi, how would you feel if I told you I loved you?”

[summer-jay]

Forfeit (Tommy/Alfie fic)

Ao3 Link

Summary: “What do you want, Alfie?”

The only reason Alfie glances at Tommy’s mouth that moment is because he brings the cigarette up again and wraps his lips around it, hollowing his cheeks as he takes the final deep drag. He probably lingers a second too long, because Tommy’s eyes snap down momentarily, and when they land on Alfie again, it’s a completely different expression Tommy’s wearing.

In which Tommy has to deal with his men's fuck-up and discovers many things about himself in the process. At some point, Alfie thinks it's about bloody time.

Rating: Explicit

A/N: For some reason, I’m really struggling with this one, but all the rewriting seems to be paying off. First chapter’s finally up!

Chapter 1: Speak (3028 words)

The warehouse is in fucking shambles.

It’s charred from ground to ceiling—what’s left of it, at least—oozing the sickly concoction of foam, water and ash from every crack. Nasty fucking view to have, this early in the morning. On the far side, the roof was blown to shreds, and the newly formed gaping hole lets the bleak London sun illuminate the space with sinister greyness and spiky shadows of the jagged remnants of the carcass. It could be almost nice, this exterior. Spiritual and apocalyptic in a way. But now the damp blackened wood sucks any redeeming qualities right out of the building and leaves it cold, dead and hopeless.

Alfie takes one last look at it and grimaces, getting in the car.

“Back to the office, boss?” Ishmael asks, to which Alfie responds with a little more repetition and emphasis than strictly necessary.

He actually preferred the sight when it was all jolly and alight mere hours ago. There was a serene pocket of time then, while the firemen worked to preserve the area around more than the warehouse itself, since Alfie could do nothing but observe the chaotic nature of the world make yet another demonstration. He didn’t know a thing back then. But he does now. And it leaves the same taste in his mouth as the stale scent of rotting wood and smoke.

It’s barely past seven when he instructs Ollie to make the call. Tommy must’ve been up and about for some time now, because he picks up immediately, and Alfie tries his hardest not to get any more pissed off at the whole situation than he already is. He’ll have to fucking deal with it now then. Fucking brilliant.

“He said he’s on his way,” Ollie appears in the door, and Alfie tears his eyes away from the record book that he isn’t reading.

“Hm. Alright then. Go kick those brainless fuckers back into our world in an hour. Ollie-” he calls when Ollie starts to turn “-leave ‘em intact for now, yeah? And tell David whatever I see on them, before Tommy Shelby arrives, yeah, I paint right back on his fucking face. With my own hands.”

Ollie furrows his brow but nods. Smart lad when he wants to be.

The door closes, and Alfie throws the record book on the table and falls back on the chair, stroking his beard absently and watching the sun rise higher and higher in the small window. Wrong day in every fucking regard, except, it shouldn’t be. Some months ago, he would’ve sunk his teeth into such a glaring opportunity to squeeze something more out of Tommy, just to see how far he could bend him without breaking. It’s a goddamn mystery why things have changed, although Alfie’s not quite delusional enough to claim he doesn’t know what exactly has changed.

He decides to wait and see. There have not been many fuck-ups on Tommy’s part in the past—none, in fact—and it makes him curious, despite the simmering irritation, to see what Tommy will offer.

                                                         . . .

For all Alfie’s tendencies to run his mouth like hell, he’s quite good at giving instructions, and, even more importantly, he’s competent enough to get them obeyed. He reaps the fruits of this ability now, when Tommy strolls into his office, fuming with irritation and knowing absolutely bloody nothing.

“So. Where’s the fucking fire?” Tommy asks as a way of greeting, letting the frustration into his voice, and it’s not that he can’t keep it locked away—he chooses to let Alfie see exactly where the fault with such scandalous disruptions of his morning routine lies.

Yes, that was definitely the right call to forbid Ollie to tell him anything over the phone.

Alfie looks up from the document he’s been staring at, taking in the sight.

Despite the pointed lack of urgency in his movements and the spilling annoyance, Tommy came. He’s sitting in Alfie’s chair now, guarded and so utterly stripped of control it sends a rush down Alfie’s spine. It suits him, this vulnerability. Makes him all sharp and volatile, and Alfie couldn’t deny himself this even if he tried—he wants just another moment of it to roll in.

He holds up a finger, taking his sweet time marking completely random figures on the paper with the air of undivided concentration, and Tommy predictably huffs, taking out his cigarette pack.

It takes a few minutes of silence before Tommy’s irritation starts threatening to break out, another minute he takes to wrench it under control. Alfie feels an infuriating urge to grin. Yeah, that’s Tommy Shelby alright, from head to toe, and it was a rather long time going about without him; so long, in fact, that something angry and hot curls in Alfie’s stomach at the necessity to deal with this ridiculous fucking situation right now instead of talking with Tommy like civilized people over a nice set of tea. Not that they’ve ever done that. Not that they will.

Right. Time for fucking business.

Alfie gives the paper one last dramatic swipe of the pen and looks up, propping his elbows on the tabletop and lacing his fingers under his chin.

“Chalton Street, actually,” he says easily, and Tommy’s hand pauses briefly halfway between the armrest and his lips. Alfie nods. “Yeah yeah, ‘s funny you should ask, mate, right, all that unsettling gypo foresight. You should’ve been a bookmaker or something.”

“I prefer not to tempt fate,” Tommy deadpans.

Alfie realizes a tad too late his gaze still lingers on Tommy’s mouth and jerks it up. “Mm, gentlemanly of you. Well, it seems to me, right, that she’d been tempted long before your intervention, mate. Cause she’s supposed to watch over fools, don't she.”

Tommy exhales the smoke slowly. “That’d be God.”

There’s the thing about Tommy—he bounces Alfie’s bullshit right back at him. Alfie feels dangerously close to getting lost in the banter. Which, as an absolute and extremely vital rule, never happens to him. It doesn’t help that Tommy’s bristling demeanour is now gone and forgotten, switching the gears in his mind to prying, negotiating and doing all other kinds of wonderful things that Tommy manages all at once when he smells fire.

Fucking bloody hopeless, Alfie thinks with marginal disappointment directed at his very self and cuts to the chase.

“Right, those new arrivals you sent, yeah, two of ‘em, they blew up my fucking warehouse tonight, mate.” It sits in the air between them for a second, Tommy still and blank as a sheet. Technically, no explosion took place, but it’s the result that matters in these things, innit.

“They got drunk,” Alfie continues, punctuating every word, probably more to himself than to Tommy, and fixes Tommy with a gaze he calmly returns. “On duty. On their shift. And decided to ease the inexpressible burden of sitting on your arse doing nothing, right, by playing with matches like little boys.”

“Was there anyone else with them?” Tommy asks without missing a beat.

“No,” Alfie lies. “Who knew they needed fucking grownups for supervision, fuckin’ hell, Tommy.”

It’s almost cruel, this satisfaction, when Tommy’s face hardens momentarily. He isn’t buying a word of it, and frankly, Alfie’d be fucking insulted if he did, but there is suddenly an infuriating void of retorts at his disposal, that is if he doesn’t want to dig this hole deeper. Tommy knows this. And he looks at Alfie in a way that very clearly conveys that he knows.

Alfie watches him flick his thumb across the edge of the cigarette for a while. Probably contemplating if he should push, if he has any leverage and, if he does, what it would cost him to use it.

“The insurance-” he starts saying after a moment, and that won’t do at all, that is not where Alfie wants the balance to reside for now.

“Fuck the insurance,” he scoffs. “It’s just un-fucking-acceptable. You send me men, right, Tom, and I put them to work, right,” he gestures helpfully, “and now I’ll need to attach my man to each your man like some fucking queer Russian doll, is that it?”

Tommy quirks an eyebrow. “Your men are not without vices.”

“My men, mate, those I find logistically more difficult to lay off.”

It’s an empty threat that Alfie half-heartedly expects to elicit a response. It doesn’t. Tommy blinks at the wall, unaffected and unimpressed to the whole world, except for how he clenches his teeth. It makes his jawline even more acute, and that, well, that might set Alfie on edge a little. How others fall for Tommy’s submissive charade is a goddamn mystery, because he seems utterly incapable of doing a thing with that cold piercing gaze that now ventures back to Alfie, not exactly shooting daggers but cutting alright. Alfie’s tempted to scold him a little more, figures that’s what drives him up the wall the most, just to draw a reaction. To see that fire spill over. He’s tempted to do many fucking things.

“Well, mate, what I tell you? No man is without vices, yeah.” He brings his hands back on the table, watching Tommy’s eyes track the motion automatically. It’s somehow getting the wrong sort of heated, this little domestic drama. Alfie resolves to ignore it for now. Needs to get to the fucking point. “Now, mate, can’t say I understand a thing about your lot in that town, batshit crazy stuff you do, yeah. But for the sake of our shared human nature, right, flawed and all, I might be inclined to let it rest, so to speak, in the ashes.”

“How fucking kind of you,” Tommy says evenly. He resolutely maintains eye contact, and fucking hell, if that’s his negotiations look, Alfie will blow his own bakery and find early retirement somewhere on the seaside.

That’s a kiss-with-a-blade-under-your-chin kind of look. It’s as if Tommy knows Alfie’s provoking him and absolutely can’t help it anyway.

Alfie realizes he got a little sidetracked and stopped talking altogether only when Tommy speaks up, on the exhale, a couple of long seconds later.

“What do you want, Alfie?”

The only reason Alfie glances at Tommy’s mouth that moment is because he brings the cigarette up again and wraps his lips around it, hollowing his cheeks as he takes the final deep drag.

It’d be a fleeting look, if it were any other fucking day under the sun. But now Alfie finds himself strangely fixated on the picture. He probably lingers a second too long, because Tommy’s eyes snap down momentarily, and when they land on Alfie again, it’s a completely different expression Tommy’s wearing.

Confusion. Inhale. Decision.

Then Tommy leans back on the chair and tips his head back slightly, suddenly almost bored.

Alfie normally prides himself on being a professional reader of men’s minds—never women’s but who the fuck is—and it still takes his powers a second to comprehend the sudden shift in the air.

“Well?” Tommy says, voice going lower than the intonation dictates, and deposits the cigarette stub on the edge of Alfie’s desk. “Let’s get it done.”

Let’s get what done, Alfie wonders, what the hell has Tommy got into his head this time, until, in a blazing, surreal moment, it hits him.

He realizes two things, to be precise, which would be three things if he chose to lie to himself about being oblivious to the very first one all this time.

He wants Tommy Shelby. He’s wanted Tommy fucking Shelby for a rather inconveniently long time, rather desperately at that, and he’s getting hard just sitting across the table from the arrogant fucker, because Tommy’s irritated, Alfie’s no better, and this whole thing suddenly looks much more appealing when he imagines it culminating in fucking rather than shooting. It’s not a problem worth freaking out over, in Alfie’s mind.

But the fucking, though, Tommy here thinks it to be the payment. That is the second thing.

What do you want, Alfie?

Alfie starts moving before reasoning manages to stop him—and not like it’s a rare occurrence. He circles the table, led by a sudden angry impulse to push, see if Tommy would actually go through with it, cause that, right, that wasn’t what Alfie meant by that fucking stray gaze at all. But it’s burning right through him, now that it’s on the table.

Tommy looks up at him through his long dark lashes and stays just like he is, open and tense. Tenser still as Alfie shuffles into his space, squeezes between him and the table, legs touching. For a second, he’s so stiff it feels like he’ll shatter, like a fucking ice statue, from the mere touch.

But Tommy doesn’t move. He blinks slowly and breathes heavily in the sudden silence, solidifying Alfie’s third insight.

Tommy Shelby would let him.

Alfie’s heart is pumping molten lead through his veins, and it’s simultaneously heavy and unconscious when he brings his hand down and strokes Tommy’s cheek, taking a hold of his jaw to tip his head even further back.

To shock him out of this glazed state he seems to be sinking into. To touch him. To push him until he does break, because this is just a stupid fucking assumption to make that Tommy would whore himself out for business, not to another man.

But Tommy doesn’t move at all. He seems to be falling in the precise opposite direction of Alfie’s whirling thoughts, going more wide eyed and responsive, and, by the looks of it, almost fucking surprised. At what exactly, Alfie can’t begin to contemplate.

Tommy lets him maneuver his head up and stares back, unblinking, pupils blown like spilled gunpowder against the bright blue. Alfie swipes a finger along his cheekbone. Tommy doesn’t bolt. Alfie steps closer, kicking Tommy’s knees apart, watching every muscle twitch on his face, waiting, nearly fucking snapping-

But Tommy doesn’t bolt.

He draws a shaky breath instead and says, with what sounds miles away from cold indifference, “I don’t have all day. Get a fucking move on.”

Alfie barely holds himself back from slapping him, because what in all circles of hell does that boy think of him. Tommy’s not a complete fucking idiot, after all. He must understand Alfie, among all the things that he is, is not that kind of a man. But here they are.

Alfie suddenly becomes acutely aware of his fingers on Tommy’s skin. Funny how this particular setting—Tommy under his hands, under him, with eyes burning and lips parted so prettily—would put him in a much less conflicted and a much more aroused state just a day ago. Just a fucking hour ago.

Which is not to say he’s not aroused. He’s fucking aching. But Tommy doesn’t want it now, except as a retribution for the cock-up Alfie can’t even clearly recall at the moment.

Alfie drops his hand so quickly, Tommy’s head bounces slightly before he catches himself. More confusion. Darting eyes, calculating what he’s done wrong. It’s not particularly difficult to return behind the desk, although Alfie’s body is screaming at him to come back, pull Tommy to his feet, tear that coat off and make Tommy come so hard he’ll be only able to see complete fucking darkness for minutes.

But as Alfie sinks into the chair, the picture of the guarded, enduring void in Tommy’s eyes makes him shudder with disgust.

Jesus Christ.

“What-” Tommy begins and stops when his voice fails him. He clears his throat, miles and miles away, composed and distant once again, and Alfie doesn’t even want to look at him now, isn’t sure it won’t shower from his eyes or something.

“Reckon a bakery in Birmingham would be fine,” he blurts out, inevitably turning to watch Tommy as he draws his eyebrows together. “Fine location, innit, secluded, far from any semblance of law or morality, yeah?”

“A bakery.” Tommy swallows, clearly trying to be inconspicuous about it and failing.

“Right, a small one, from your pocket and all. Would serve your men well, to learn some bloody discipline. Could relocate those two excuses for workforce of yours there, spare us all the necessity to behold their fucking faces.”

Alfie doesn’t need a bakery in Birmingham. Hell, of all the things he hoped to get out of this whole ordeal, this wasn’t even remotely close to the list.

He fumbles with his rings absently while Tommy gets busy picking himself up and straightening his coat.

He considers saying something. Easy and dismissive, something along the lines of ‘nah, you misread it, mate,’ which would be simple enough and also absolutely fucking ballistic, because admitting anything out loud at this point feels like a death sentence in neat handwriting—very tiny and very lethal.

By the mortified look gliding across Tommy’s face for a second as he swipes a hand over his face, he knows damn well he misread it.

“Right,” Alfie mutters to himself and then repeats, loudly enough to shake the whole damn building, “Right. So it’s settled then, yeah, no hard feelings. With the bakery, that is.”

“Right,” Tommy echoes. He sounds strange, almost lost, although it would’ve been impossible to notice if Alfie’d known him any less.

When Tommy goes to leave, Alfie doesn’t stop him, although the impulse, for some fucking reason, is there.

He slumps down in the chair, draws a long, deep breath and tries to process what has just transpired. In particular, what that look on Tommy was, right before he gracefully stormed out of his own fucking shipwreck.

Alfie can’t seem to find a place for his hands; he keeps shifting around, the persistent sensation of rough stubbled skin under his fingertips unchanging despite the position, until he jolts upright and grabs the cigarette that witnessed all this chaos with dead silence.

Alfie’s powers are suddenly kicking back in to tell him the fucking look was one of disappointment. Which is complete and impossible bloody horseshit. Unless, of course, it isn’t. And in that case, opening a bakery in Birmingham is a bad, bad idea.

[robotsandzombiesarebi]

Looking at the same sky

HSS (CA)

MC (Bailey Westlake)

MC x Skye

Notes: This is my first attempt at a choices fanfic so I hope I can do some justice. This is going to be a few instalments long so bear with it. Hope you enjoy.

————————

Bailey wiped the sweat from her brow as she rushed from table to table, trying to clear with one hand and jot down orders with the other. The Golden Griddle was swarmed with people as it usually was on a Friday evening. Cedar Cove was a nice town, but there wasn’t much of a dating scene which left young couples with the choice of the arcade, the beach or the Golden Griddle. While balancing a small stack of dishes on her bent elbow, Bailey held the note pad and pen, turning to the next table without taking her concentration off of the precariously balanced stack. 

“Welcome to the Golden Griddle” She said, breathlessly. “What can I get you?”

“A black coffee…. and a kiss.” Said the soft voice that Bailey could only just notice.

“OK, that’ll be out for you in just a sec.” With that, she rushed to the window that joined the kitchen to the dining room. “Hey Casey. We need 3 Apple pie slices for table six, franks and eggs for table two and a black coffee and a kiss for table five. I’ll get the coffee if you pass out the rest.”

She ran the tap that poured out piping hot water, quickly nudging a cup in to the stream. After stirring in the coffee and setting it on a dish with a few small sugar packets she called back to Casey. “How are those orders coming?”

“Here’s table two and six.” Casey chuckled as he passed the plates through the opening.

“What about table five?”

“Bailey, read the order.”

“I did! Black coffee, which I’ve done, and a…” She stopped short, looking slowly up at the table across the diner where she saw the familiar shine of deep red waves spilling over the matching stripes of a tight top.

There sat Skye Crandall, trying her best not to burst with laughter at Bailey’s obliviousness. Bailey turned and scowled at Casey for not correcting her sooner. She quickly tore open the sugar packets, emptying six into the dark drink before rushing it over to the table where her girlfriend sat.

“Hi…” Bailey said with a tired smile.

“Hey yourself. Sorry about the order, I just know how you get in to work and couldn’t resist messing with you a little.” Skye smirked.

“It’s fine. I should have recognised your voice.” Bailey laughed, setting the coffee in front of Skye. “I already poured your ridiculous amount of sugar. Why do you have so much anyway?”

“The coffee here is really bitter. My mom always buys this almond infused stuff so I don’t have as much at home. What time do you finish?”

“Maybe another hour or so. Why? Are you going to whisk me away?”

“Um, no? But I wondered if you wanted to walk me home. But only if you want to. No obligation or anything.” Skye stammered.

“I’d love to, as long as you don’t mind waiting. Where have you been?”

“Nowhere, just thought I’d come see you at work. Is that weird?”

“Wait. You came all this way to see me for a hot minute at work and you’re worried I’ll say no to walking you home?”

“Urgh, I knew this weird. I’ll just leave.”

“NO!… I mean, no, stay. I’ll finish up as quickly as I can, then I’m all yours.”

Skye laughed. The faint embarrassed blush creeping away from her cheeks. “All mine?”

“All yours.” Bailey said with a salute as she walked backwards to get back to work. As she turned, she collided with a large frame, knocking herself to the floor while the person she bumped into stood firm.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” She squeaked as she scrambled to her feet. Looking up she saw the person she had crashed into was Jordan Daniels (JD). The most popular girl in school, captain of the football team and victim of the leg breaking incident of Bailey’s first day at Berry. “Oh, JD. Sorry!”

“You said that already” She laughed, straightening her clothes. “Its fine, no harm done. Are you OK?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good. Just overworked.”

“Yeah…” JD said as she glanced around the diner. “Its usually pretty quiet in here. Serves me right for craving your dad’s chilli-cheese dogs on a Friday, huh.”

“Yep. It’s like…”

“BAILEY!” A stern voice interrupted. “Come on, there’s people waiting.” Came her dad’s voice from the kitchen.

“Sorry! Can you start a chilli-cheese dog please?”

“Oh, and a double strawberry shake and fries?” JD called out to Bailey’s dad, doing her best Bailey impression; laughing when he failed to notice, also buried under his workload. “We’ll be in the corner booth, Bailey.” She smiled, making her way over to the beautiful blonde sitting across the diner.

Bailey continued her work, clearing table after table and waving goodbye to customers as the diner slowly started to clear out. When just a few patrons remained, she caught her dad’s eye and gave him a pleading look, motioning towards Skye. He gave a stiff nod, and barely hid the sorrowful look on his face as he turned back to finish clearing down the kitchen. 

“Time to go” Bailey said with a grin as she put out a hand for Skye to take. “Sorry you had to wait. I hate Friday shifts.” 

“its OK, really. i wasn’t expecting you to just drop your work for me.”

“But, you know i definitely would if i could. I’d give anything for more time with you.” at that, Skye looked taken aback.

“You really mean that don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I do.” Bailey laced her fingers through Skye’s as they walked together. “And i always will.” The two of them walked closely through the town in time to see the lights of the stores and other restaurants shutting off. The night was quiet aside from the occasional rumble of a motorcycle passing somewhere close by. They walked in silence for most of their journey. This was a usual thing. Skye wasn’t much of a talker at the best of times and Bailey was glad to enjoy the peace after the rush of the diner. Another usual thing that occurred was, the closer they got to Skye’s family home, the more she would start striking up things to talk about. Bailey could easily recognise what was happening. Skye would try to keep her talking for as long as possible to buy herself valuable minutes before re-entering the house and switching her attention from the one person who brought her serenity to those who gave her nothing but stress and anxiety. 

Midway through Skye talking about a new movie they should go and see, (not even one she would usually be interested in, but that was irrelevant right now), Bailey cut her off.

“Hey, so tell me if this is too forward, but…” She blushed furiously, earning herself a half smirk from the darkened lips of the beautiful girl before her. “…Did you want me to ask my parents if you can stay over tonight?”

Now it was Skye’s turn to blush. Her face heated at the mild implication and her breath caught in her throat. “Um, yeah… Yeah, that sounds, nice.”

Without wasting another second, Bailey called her mom and had to focus to stop herself from bouncing on the spot with nervous energy.

“Hello?” Her Mom answered.

“Mom…..” Bailey dragged the word out, tryng to soften the blow of what she was about to ask. “Skye and i were wondering….”

“Are you about to ask me if she can stay over for the night?” Her voice had a slight teasing tone which sounded positive to Bailey.

“Yes. But!… I’ll keep my door open a crack and we’ll just be watching movies and its not like she never stayed over before, but this time there’s no one else to worry about. Also, i’ll walk Biscuit every day for the next month, even the days that Casey owes me and you definitely let Erin stay over super late for Casey and i am technically the older sibling…”

“Bailey!” her mom’s voice rang through so loud that the phone was almost unnecessary. “Thank you for being mature enough to ask me, and you do make a very convincing argument. But i’m afraid tonight just wont do sweetie”

“oh… OK. but, why not?” She asked, sounding as though the breath had been pulled from her body along with every ounce of her excitement.

“Your Dad and I need to talk to you and your brother. Don’t worry, the discussion is not off the table. We’ll talk about it very soon OK?”

“Yeah, OK Mom. i’ll head home now.” They said their “I love you”s and hung up. Bailey turned back to Skye who had a look of grim acceptance on her face, her eyes flicking repeatedly over to the lit-up window of the living room of her house. More-so, the shadows that kept passing it. “I’m sorry Skye” 

“It’s OK. At least i always know i have you near, and if i need you, you’ll come rescue me, right?” 

“Always” Bailey smiled 

“Then there’s nothing for me to worry about, right?”

“Right!” Bailey pulled Skye by their still linked hands in to a tight embrace. it was never going to be long until they saw each other again, but the moments in between haunted Bailey. Knowing what the Crandalls were like was bad enough, but what truly haunted her were the things she was sure Skye didn’t tell her. 

“Get home safe, OK?” Skye whispered against the tender skin of Bailey’s neck.

“You be safe too.” She said concernedly 

“Duh, i live right there…” Skye smirked, pointing to the house a few feet from them. Bailey smiled back but was sure that Skye knew what she meant and was just covering up her own worry. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow” She waved as she walked out of the yard and on to the streets. “I love you.”

At that they both stopped, still getting used to the three words passing beautifully between them. 

“I love you too.” Skye smiled earnestly before opening the front door and disappearing inside.

The walk home wasn’t far from Skye’s house and though it wasn’t cold out, Bailey could feel the chill on her hand and up her arm, in all the places that Skye had been making contact on their walk together. Seeing her house come in to view, her mind began to wander. Thoughts of how different things could have been tonight, if Skye had been allowed to stay with her. First came exhilaration of the possibilities of having her first serious girlfriend to herself all night, and the things that they had talked about up until now, maybe, finally happening for real instead of just fantasies. Exhilaration gave way to worry when she thought of where the girl she loved was instead. In a pit of vipers that hiss as venomously as they bite, and her alone to face them.

Forcing herself to push the negative thoughts aside, promising silently that she would text Skye as soon as she was in her room to check in, she opened the door to her home. What she saw inside was curious. Both of her parents looking extremely guilty, and Casey just looking confused.

“Whats going on?” she asked, looking from one member of her family to another.

“Bailey, come and sit down. You need to hear this.” Her mom said calmly. Bailey made her way to the dining table where they were sat, trying to figure out the unfamiliar look on her twins face. “The thing is honey…”

Before she had a chance to finish her thought, Casey stood abruptly up, knocking his chair over with the force. “They’re making us move, Bailey! Regardless of our friends, our relationships, our school!”

She was sure she could still faintly hear Casey yelling, but her ears rushed and her head span. Fighting past the feeling of sawdust in her mouth, Bailey only managed two words before the tears pricking at her eyes threatened to spill.

“But…No….

To be continued.

[heartslogos]

the declassified texts of the inquisition’s elite [130]

(832): The dogs decided to play a new game called "Who Can Scream the Loudest?" (832): I won. - (870): Only you would make Mario Party a contact sport. (870): And you owe me a new pair of switch controllers. -

“You have to prove your dominance,” Sera says, nudging Cullen, “Rutherford here knows what I’m talking about, right? If the dogs start acting up weird, you gotta be weirder than they are so they know who’s in charge. And then they’ll start looking and checkin’ with you before they take a heel turn to make sure if it’s okay.”

Herah raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms and turning to meet their commander’s eyes. “Is that true?”

“Not in those exact words,” Cullen says slowly, keeping a remarkably straight face. “I won’t be denying that there’s a certain train of logic to Sera’s argument that does work and is used by dog trainers.”

“You gotta be the alpha dog in the house.”

“There’s no such — “ Cullen sighs. “Right. Sure.”

“And you proved your dominance by screaming?”

“Howling,” Sera corrects, chin raised in defiance.

“Split the difference,” Herah says, “Caterwauling.”

“Fair.” Sera shrugs. “Yeah. I was louder than they are and I was like. Maintaining constant eye contact the entire time. They felt my aura of authority. I’m the head bitch in charge here.”

“Or they thought you were so damn weird that they had to stop what they were doing to devoting all of their brain power to trying to figure you out,” Herah says. “Seriously. I thought someone was being murdered. And I wasn’t even in the vicinity of the kennels.” She sees Cullen make a small face out of the corner of her eye and sighs. “Sorry. Sorry. The K-9 officer squad barracks.”

It’s the kind of pretty name that says essential the same thing the word kennels does, but with added flair and an entirely unnecessary veneer of poshness. It’s the kind of thing Herah would’ve expected someone in HR or PR to come up with.

“Kennels just has…it just has such a negative connotation to it,” Cullen mumbles.

Herah claps Cullen on the back. “I didn’t say anything.”

Cullen shoots Herah a sidelong look. “You didn’t have to, Adaar. You’re remarkably expressive. Either Maxwell’s wearing off on you or you’re losing your touch.”

“Both,” Herah admits. “Rutherford see if you can get Leliana to put me on some missions with Mahanon. That’ll get me back to normal. Working with him is like a shot of adrenaline and paranoia straight to the heart. It’s great.”

“That sounds like the exact opposite of great,” Sera says. “It sounds like a one way ticket to your own grave.”

“Exactly. That’ll get me back into shape no problem,” Herah grins. “It’s like boot camp but for your brain.”

- “Wrong, not only me, but everyone else in the Chargers,” Krem says. “Yeah, sorry about the controllers. But hey, you were complaining that one of them had a really wonky sensor right?”

“Yeah, but I could’ve just sent that in to get fixed,” Malika retorts. “Now you’re dropping almost a hundred bucks on getting me new controllers.”

“Listen kid,” Krem puts a hand on her shoulder, expression solemn, “If you want to win you’ve got to expect some casualties.”

“I thought my days of experiencing casualties was over,” Malika mourns. “I accidentally threw the Wii controller back when I was a kid and broke like…three glass figurines from my dad’s collection, the controller, and the TV at the same time. My mom still won’t let me play video games in the family room even when I’ve explained to her that my other consoles don’t require me to pretend I’m swinging a tennis racquet.”

“That’s rough. But again. Cost of winning.” Krem digs into his wallet.

“But you didn’t win,” Malika points out. “You still lost. Because you broke your controller.”

“For me winning isn’t being the one to win,” Krem says. “Winning is making sure Dalish doesn’t win. Did Dalish win? Nope. Came in second place, edged out by Rocky because of my brave sacrifice causing her attention to waver for a split second. Now if I give you my credit card can I trust you not to do something stupid with it?”

“Do you even have credit on your credit card?” Malika takes the card, dubious as she examines the worn plastic corners that are peeling up. “How has this not expired? Wait. This was just issued this year? What did you do to it?”

“Don’t ask questions. And yeah, I’m good with money. What kind of question is that? I’m an immigrant from a hostile nation, coming over with an economic background lower middle class and vocational training. I’m transgender, and my most notable work experience is that I’ve essentially been the VP for an independent company that you could consider to be a start up with fewer than one hundred employees for almost ten years now. Of course I’m good with finances.”

Malika squints up at the man. “That’s a lot of words to say that you’re in charge of running a mercenary company that pretty much goes paycheck to paycheck.”

“And that’s how you pad out a resume. Look at me. What a wonderful mentor I am. I’m just tossing out the life hacks left and right. Go buy your new controllers and get that card back to me. This should go without saying, but I’m not getting caught out because I wasn’t explicitly clear: don’t let anyone know you have my credit card. I’m trusting you to be cool about this.”

“Bold of you. You know I’m technically Carta, right?”

“It’s a sign of goodwill, also I accept full culpability for wrecking your controllers so. Yeah. Kind of have to.” Krem checks his phone. “Okay, this is taking forever. I’ve got to run. Skinner and I are supposed to be helping with quality control checks on incoming equipment in docking bay four. Do me a favor and let me know when this is finished yeah?”

Malika nods. “Test results were supposed to be taken up to Leliana’s right? I can run it up there for you if you want.”

“One, I don’t want my physical credit card going anywhere near the spymaster. Two, nah, it’s fine. You’ve got other stuff to do and I figure I’ll probably need a break from the inventory check. You know how fussy Pentaghast can be sometimes.”

[themostexpensiveboningknife]

A DJ Story Part One

My name is Ollie and I’ve been a hard-working, well-known DJ in-the-making for 8 years. I’ve been working so hard to try and make it as a touring DJ. I’ve always been a fan of music and I really believe that my knowledge of music and skills behind the decks should warrant me a global audience. I don’t want to sound arrogant, because I don’t think I am, but I know that I have what it takes to be a big DJ. Who wouldn’t want to be respected for their knowledge of music and technical skill behind the decks? Plus there’s all of the fans and the nonstop travelling around the world. 

My passion for it started in school. It’s then that I first got into electronic, or underground and alternative, whatever you want to call it, music. It started with House and Techno music, growing up in a small city there was some of it around, I especially liked Berlin-style versions of the sounds and also some stuff that came out of Detroit although I knew less about this. This was good music with big variety, mellow to hard and heavy, as a budding DJ these were great tools that I could use to control the dancefloor and demonstrate my digging. Later I’d get into UK Garage, with huge, mostly untapped back catalogues it gave me the opportunity to make people dance and demonstrate my intelligence in finding these forgotten tracks. By this time, I was playing occasionally around my little city, working hard to build a name for myself, I took a monthly radio show on a local station also. When people asked me to identify tracks for them, I’d almost always not tell them. These were my songs that I’d worked really hard to find. I hadn’t been working and was living at home just so I could dedicate myself to finding new music. I wasn’t going to give up my tracks so easily. After building up my name a bit, still playing mostly house and garage stuff, I fortuitously came across some new music that I knew would be the key to my success. 

African music has really got a particular vibe. There’s regional variety but when you’re playing it out people just know that you’re playing African music. There’s so much out there that no one plays in clubs yet! I thought the stuff I was playing before was what would make me stand out, but I’ve found that it’s playing African music that really works well with the crowd. I have spent a lot of time following artists and labels, there’s one label that is full of tapes that the label owner has physically found himself on travels across the continent. I wouldn’t do that myself but I do think that I am deeply in love with the music and its potential. My commitment looks more like scrawling through YouTube, Discogs and various forums, there’s also a few people in my local area who share my interest and we share tips on where to buy old vinyl or new represses. 

It was a pretty normal Tuesday. I’d had some success in finding some new music, especially some Ghanian Highlife stuff. Lots of it was pretty well-known though, what I really needed was a track that packed a punch but was totally unknown. It was this track that would work for my big gig next week, my biggest to date. A one thousand capacity club in the big city nearby, I was second on the bill. I needed a tune that was so rare, so special in sound, one that I could totally own, I wanted it to be my signature. At about midnight, I thought I’d found it, a disco number made in Senegal in the ‘80s, but then I found someone had posted it on a forum a few years back. I’d still keep hold of the 320 I found on Soulseek, but it wasn’t the song. At 3am I really did find it. I was watching a very rare piece of footage of one of my favourite African DJs from about 15 years ago, the video itself had only 5 views. There was one song she played that was dynamite. A heavy, funky bassline, aggressive chords and a slow, rumbling voice over the top switching between English and a language I couldn’t recognise. 

“Oh baby, sweet down by the river was where we should have met, oh baby,” were the lyrics that I could recognise. I knew it was going to be hard to find the song, but this was the one I needed, I could feel it, this would be my signature song to really blow away the crowd at the coming rave. 

“Ollie, turn down the music, it’s well past midnight!”, my mum shouted up the stairs to me. I turned it down a bit, but I of course wasn’t going to stop now. It took me about an hour more to find the exact track. I tried all sorts of variations in the lyrics, I tried looking through all the other mixes of the DJ I’d seen playing it, finally I found the artist. A female singer from Mali. The track itself could only be found on an old tape. One single copy was all I could find on the internet, I paid whatever the price was and happily went to bed. Truly content and confident that I had found the ultra-rare piece of music that would show me to be the great DJ that I knew I was. 

The day of the gig had come. I’d received the tape and had already used a machine to digitalize it, the song was already safely sitting on my USB. I travelled up by train and met the promoters, two young chaps from the city who had been running nights for a year here now. I had on shorts and a tropical style shirt plus sunglasses. We checked a few record shops in the city and then had dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant that had just opened. It was delicious food, plus I had a bit of a chat with the owner about Ethiopian music and, of course, my collection. 

At the party it was pretty packed. Young people from all over the local area were here. The two DJs before me had played a bit intense. I’d have to slow down the mood a bit before dropping the track. I’d played out enough times to not be that nervous anymore, but I anxiously anticipated seeing the reaction to that song tonight. I had a few drinks and then stood behind the DJ playing before me while fingering my USB in my pocket. 

I was up. I played for about 45 minutes before I cued up the track. The crowd was about 4/5 there now. Hundreds of faces looking expectantly up at me. I knew that I had to deliver and I knew that I would. I’d decided to not mix the track into the preceding one, I wanted it to be heard in all of its glory. I slowly brought down the track before, a generic William Onyeabor joint. I could hear the funky bassline slowly coming in and so could the crowd. As I slowly brought the track in, adjusting the EQ and saving the full bass impact to very last, the atmosphere in the crowd seemed to change a bit, at least from where I was standing. I continued to bring in the track, looking more at the crowd than the mixer. When the omphy bassline finally hit there were a few shouts from the audience. People seemed to be dancing a bit harder. There was definitely a reaction. Maybe not as much as I’d thought. But there was something. I saw a few people using their phones to try and find the song name, not going to work I thought proudly. I spent so long gauging the crowds’ reaction that I almost forgot to cue the next track. Three quarters of an hour later it was all over. I refused people’s offers of drinks and had the promoters organise a cab for me back to my hotel. 

While I waited for the car, I mulled over what had happened. It maybe wasn’t the ecstatic response that I had envisioned. I was sure there would be a more significant response. It was probably just not the right crowd, plus the lighting and smoke guys hadn’t been very responsive, I thought. Anyway, I still had the song, it was my signature, my calling card and I’d be pulling it out to wow proper crowds in proper clubs soon. 

The taxi arrived and I sat back reasonably content. “Good evening, sir.” The radio was on but the traffic outside was quite loud so I couldn’t hear much, I asked the driver to turn the sound up a bit. “Oh baby, sweet down by the river was where we should have met, oh baby,” I realised it was my song playing. The driver sang along to it, clearly knowing the words. I sat back again, this time distraught. Maybe it was time for me to find a new kind of music, I thought to myself.

[firebirdsdaughter]

Over Analysis ‘The Gawas will be the Death of Me’ Stage 1: The (1st) Fight

Okay. So. This is gonna be a long post, so I will condense it immediately. Are we ready?

Who am I kidding. Absolutely not.

Warning: rambling be below this point.

We start out w/ Hiden Manufacturing being blown up. Not much to say here other than Fuwa being fond big brother is sweet, Yua looks awfully chill for standing in the ruins of an exploded building, and Jin is doing his best Ankh impression (Nakagawa, honey, I love you, but there is only one Ankh). Until Aruto says:

Jin is surprised a complete stranger is showing more concern for his family than he has been.

I know I complain about Aruto’s characterisation a lot, but I liked this (enough that I think it should have been what Jin brought up when talking to MBR). Ignoring, for the moment, my other issues and pretending that this friendship developed how it could have, this would be a really great scene, esp considering the stuff Jin did previously. Aruto wanting to save the other three in contrast to Jin’s decision to just sacrifice them would be an interesting thing. I wish we got more on it, honestly. It was one of the ways they could have developed from each other. Either way, this comment has an effect on Jin, and when shit starts exploding, he takes off on his own.

MetsuBouRai, meanwhile, are brooding about the MBJR base bc the Ark isn’t talking to them. Raiden’s angry, Naki is dejected, but Horobi is just… Sitting there. Watching, I believe, the same thing Yua is watching on her phone during this stuff, going by the animation.

Naki says this, but it cuts to each of them. Horobi’s head actually turns slightly, while Raiden looks morose for a moment before laughing bitterly and taking out his frustration on that mind hacking helmet (which breaks yet again). Raiden’s always been the most expressive of the three, but Horobi’s reaction also feels import bc of how long he’s been under the Ark’s control, brainwashed into believing that the Ark was the path to saving HumaGear. He’s never once been able to consider the Ark might turn on them or abandon them. Naki and Raiden haven’t been under so long, so while they’re still hacked, they don’t have the same mindless devotion. Naki can question and Raiden can be mocking. But this feels very much like a ‘wait, what?’ moment for Horobi.

… That his conditioning has to immediately reject, insisting that the Ark will come back for them, is really going to save HumaGear. Oh, sweetie.

*I know that the show (? Or at least most sub groups) are referring to the Ark as ‘he,’ I’m just stubborn and like saying ‘she.’ Being voiced by Charden Flamberg won’t stop me.

Jin shows up, announcing, ‘you’re wrong’ and that the Ark can’t be trusted (when did we stop saying ‘the’ Ark?), and it looks like he didn’t stop to shower or anything en route. Come to think… How would he repair that suit? Anyway, he spends the majority of this scene looking right at Horobi, who…

… Doesn’t react. It’s Naki who says something. Jin and Horobi just… Stare at each other. Raiden looks like he thinks he’s interrupting. Lots of tension here. It’s up in the air whether Horobi doesn’t know how to react, or if he actually can’t in the state he’s in at this point. The Ark’s being going at how he processes situations w/ a chainsaw for years, he may be completely unable to figure out how to respond.

Horobi doesn’t even move… Until Jin starts apologising. I don’t we ever saw Baby Jin apologising for anything? Not even when he didn’t get the Mammoth Key back. All three of them seem confused by the apology, but it’s enough to get Horobi out of his game of statue. Obviously he doesn’t think raising the Ark is something to apologise for bc of his enforced loyalty to her. But he doesn’t seem to consider Jin to have to done anything worth apologising for.

As for Jin, this is a moment that makes me inclined to buy that he’s realised he fucked up. I would have appreciated going into that a little more, bc wtf dude, that plan was a clusterfuck even aside from the whole ‘murder my dad for being brainwashed,’ but this ep heavily indicated he realises what he did. And boy is he paying for it.

Jin talks about the plan to destroy the Ark, then goes very quiet and walks up level w/ Horobi, and the shot closes in on the two of them again. It takes him a second to actually look at Horobi… My guess is bc he knows what he’ll see.

… And the award for an absolutely terrible plan goes to… But in all seriousness, Nakagawa Daisuke, everyone, the kid can act. The way he says it, and how he kinda seems to be wavering on his feet, gives the impression he’s just barely keeping it together. I’ve debated about him saying this point blank like this, and on one hand, ouch, on the other… Given my interpretation that Horobi views lying as a human thing and absolutely detests it… Jin might be hoping being straight up w/ him will work better. Or maybe he’s hoping to gauge Horobi’s reaction, bc rather heartbreakingly…

… Horobi doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. In the hopes of keeping images to a minimum, I didn’t include another thing I noticed while going through—Naki doesn’t look back to Horobi until he starts talking, but just seconds before Horobi speaks, Raiden’s gaze switches to him, w/ that kinda concerned look. Just before he talks, Horobi’s head also turns like he’s glancing at the other two, but it’s hard to tell, he’s out of focus (oh, so painfully much), which is actually a little interesting considering he’s being totally calm about his son saying he was trying to kill him. Is it bc the idea of the Ark failing never occurred to him? Or… Does he have so little self worth that he’s completely indifferent to the idea of his death? To me… Probably both. Horobi has lived his entire life for other people, has been brainwashed into a tool of the Ark—and we see what happens when he wavers or tries to be something else later in this ep. While the idea that the Ark would betray them has never been able to occur to him, he’s shown multiple times to be completely calm about the possibility of dying, and this is Jin saying he was going to kill him. But Horobi doesn’t even seem surprised. He just accepts it.

Which I have to feel like is the reaction Jin expected. Why he was so reluctant to look up, bc he knew Horobi would just be… Blank. Bc he knows what the Ark has taken from Horobi, and now he’s actually facing the fact that he made it worse.

When you tell your dad you were planning to kill him and he doesn’t even care. But seriously. He doesn’t even remark on it. Horobi doesn’t care about his own life to the point Jin can point blank say he was planning to kill him and Horobi won’t even blink, much less get upset. Jin’s guilt here, to me, likely isn’t just ‘I helped the Ark rise and now everything is shit,’ but also facing the fact that he’s… ‘Re-reduced’ Horobi to being the Ark’s mere puppet again, esp right after Horobi was actually starting to have some clarity. Gotta wonder if he’s flashing back to that ‘why did I do that?’ moment in episode 35?

I made a comment about Horobi being out of focus when talking about Jin planning to kill him… He comes abruptly into focus when Jin brings up Aruto. Is this about Soreo’s data? Aruto talking about him wanting to be Jin’s father? I have opinions about the way Aruto is talked about in this scene and the things Jin chooses to bring up, and mainly… I just thought this was curious. And… Sunagawa has a very nice profile, so sue me. ^^; (you have no idea how many of these shots just turned into ‘I think this shot is cool! I may share some at the end of this).

When Jin says Aruto can defeat the Ark, Horobi isn’t happy. But he… Looks around weirdly while talking? Starts out looking at Jin, then looks down like he does when he’s thinking, then back up at Jin by the end.

… I have nothing else for this. What? An excuse to use more pictures of Sunagawa? … Leave me alone!

Look at Nakagawa hunching again. Is that to fit everyone in the shot, or is he just doing that?

Jin persists and Horobi… Shouts. And then he doesn’t just shout, he dives forward and grabs Jin’s collar. It’s hard to see in my crappy screen shot, but Jin seems surprised by this, and w/ good reason, Horobi’s not usually emotional. I believe this is only the second time we’ve ever heard him shout… And both times were at Jin about humans. Trying to reject what he possibly sees as their growing influence over his son.

… I wonder. What makes him so desperate to make Jin stop in this moment? Their dynamic may have shifted w/ Jin’s revival, but Jin’s still the person… Well, second to the Ark, he’s the person w/ the most influence over Horobi. Aruto and Fuwa both made slight headway, but when it comes down to it, Jin is Horobi’s, well, singularity point. Why react this way? Even at this point, neither Naki or Raiden were jumping at it. Did the Ark’s engrained influence just want to reject the words, some personal experience w/ humans. Is it the words themselves, or the fact that they’re coming out of Jin? It’s more emotion than he showed on the subject of his own death. Honestly, maybe more emotion than he’s ever shown. Is he rejecting blasphemy against the Ark… Or what he perceives as human influence and control over his son?

But then something interesting happens.

At first, Horobi is clearly furious—but then…

… The Ark… Abruptly stops hacking? Not… Technically weird, but pretty suspicious considering that immediately after…

… Horobi abruptly… Goes back to being passive. He even lets go of Jin’s suit. Did the Ark do something? Giving direct orders or not, he’s still connected. Or did he just not know what to do once he got in there? He and Jin stare at each other for a moment. Did his soft spot for Jin kick back in?

He keeps this much calmer attitude, and is even still looking down when he speaks again.

Who are you trying to convince and why, Horobi?

Jin has apparently forgotten how ‘hacking’ works. Being right on the second point doesn’t excuse the first one, sweetie.

Is it important that it’s just them in this shot? I’d like to think so. My theory is that this whole scenario actually stole something very personal from them that’s never going to really come back, the chance to be a proper family, for Jin to grow up as a child and for Horobi to actually be a proper father. Is the implication that they are ‘HumaGears’ to each other? Until pried from my cold dead hands (break my fingers, Takahashi, break them, I dare you), my interpretation is that Horobi’s actions next time are centred around wanting a world where Jin will be completely safe (someone please tell him there’s no such thing, bc there isn’t, before it gets him killed), that while the goal is safety and peace for all HumaGear… It’s his personal motivation to do it for Jin.

Either way… Putting aside the question of whether Jin is actually as free as he seems to think he is… I was waiting for him to say this to Horobi. Bc hell yes, Horobi deserves to be free of the Ark, and Jin should know that better than anyone. She had Horobi under closer control than anyone else, bc she wanted/needed him to manipulate Jin. He was her tool to move her pawn. And that’s fucked his mental state to hell and back.

Horobi isn’t even able to respond to the concept of ‘free,’ It’s Naki who steps in again.

Jin keeps going, and eventually brings up dreams. I don’t know if that specifically has to do w/ Horobi’s reaction… In my theory, assuming he actually remembered a bit about his past, I can def see ‘our own dreams’ setting of ‘Ark bells’ and making him compulsively reject the notion.

Interestingly, he turns slightly to face the corner before speaking further.

… Well don’t that just sound robotic. ‘Brainwash victim’ alarums go off again.

Jin has another small somber moment. This one feels less ‘messy emotions/wracked w/ guilt’ and more just… Sad. Regretful, too, but not the same exactly? This isn’t so much ‘what have I done?’ anymore as ‘I did this.’

He failed to try at all before. That’s not me being mean, that’s me saying I think that’s what’s going through his head. He might not be thrilled about fighting Horobi as Horobi, but bc he let them down before, he has to power through.

Naki: Do you think they’ll notice if we back towards the door?

Raiden: Trust me, I’m thinking about it.

They fight and Jin loses. Horobi’s got experience, a positively self-destructive lack of self preservation, and I do think Jin was holding back. Making himself fight Horobi as the Ark is one thing, he can just tell himself it’s the Ark, probably easier to be like ‘Horobi can’t be saved’ like that, too (even though Jin bloody reconnected them), but fighting Horobi as Horobi… That’s something else. Esp w/ the knowledge that Horobi is so blankly devoted to the Ark right now bc of something he did.

Jin kinda tries to shuffle away as Horobi approaches… I don’t blame him, that’s Takaiwa Seiji. Don’t fuck w/ Takaiwa Seiji.

Horobi says… But then just stands there, perfectly still, giving no indication that he intends to move, for another ten whole seconds (yes, I counted). He says that, but then doesn’t do anything. Almost like he’s hit a wall. And he has, hasn’t he? The Ark’s influence over him wants to erase anyone who defies it… But Horobi himself has shown multiple times that his actual instinct is to protect Jin. So what does he do when he has a chance to destroy someone vocally against the Ark, but… It’s Jin? He freezes, apparently.

Jin looks up at him like this, kinda pleadingly, and I like the idea that he’s looking… Essentially, for his father. Hesitation, feeling. Any reaction. But while I do see Horobi freezing as a sign of his inability to follow through w/ the threat… It also shows he has no idea how to follow that up. He can’t get beyond the instinctive ‘don’t do this.’ So he just starts playing statue again. That’s gotta be rough for Jin to see, esp w/ the knowledge that he contributed to rendering Horobi this messed up. Again.

When he sees nothing, he looks away again. Maybe trying to gather nerve in the face of the nigh zombie-like state he’s seeing his father in. We cut a few times between him and Horobi as he starts talking, between Jin being more emotional, and Horobi’s continually blank countenance.

Jin doesn’t look back up until he asks if killing him is something Horobi wants. This expression doesn’t read hopeful either way. Does he want Horobi to indicate it’s not, bc he wants his father to still care about him, or does he want Horobi to be upset that he tried to kill him, to show some sign of self worth/preservation? Hard to know, but it’s definitely pleading again.

Naturally, the first words that come to Horobi’s mind. And, yes, it is. The Ark wants detractors to disappear. But in this situation… That conflicts w/ what Horobi himself truly wants. And he reacts. He’s directly confront ed w/ a contradiction, w/ the realisation that the Ark’s will hasn’t completely replaced his own. He’s conditioned to follow the Ark’s will no matter what, he doesn’t want to kill Jin. He’s in disagreement w/ the Ark’s will. Big no no. What he’s saying ‘no’ to is a little unclear, but I like thinking that he’s realising he doesn’t want what the Ark would want. It’s also interesting how the focus shifts from him to Naki and Raiden. Presumably, they are effected by seeing Horobi be uncertain about the Ark’s will, and that contributes to everyone’s reactions.

I love Jin’s reaction to Horobi lowering the bow. He makes this emotional little sound, and watches the bow for a moment before looking anxiously up at Horobi—looking for a reaction again, if there’s anything more. But Horobi’s just… In a daze. I still don’t know if Jin is relieved by this, or if he was hoping Horobi would be personally angry at him. Kind of puts me in mind of a moment from Prince of Persia where Dastan tells his brother that the dagger rewinds time and then stabs himself, and when his brother uses it and tells Dastan he died right in front of him, Dastan’s reaction is a breathless ‘you used it!’ from the relief that his brother cared/trusted him enough. Jin’s reaction kind of makes me think of that, amazement and relief and even kind of gladness that he matters enough to Horobi that this would actually cause his father to waver from his brainwashing. Which, while really sweet and a testament to what Jin genuinely means to Horobi, is also heart breaking and shows off just what the Ark (and thus Gai, by creating it) took from them, that this is how we see that Jin is important to Horobi. It should just be bc he’s his dad, bc hugs and family times. But the Ark took that from them. It shows that Horobi cares about Jin, but it’s also glaring show of what they lost/missed out on bc of the Ark.

There’s also something else about Jin’s reaction if you look closely at his hands.

His right hand shifts, lifting up slightly, like his first instinct was to reach out to Horobi, try to solidify whatever’s happening—but in the end, he doesn’t commit, and…

Horobi wanders off, in some sort of confused trance. We don’t see his face at all here.

It’s been pointed out to me that these two are always reaching out to each other and never quite making it, and… Accurate. Feels like yet another example of just how badly they’ve been fucked over and what was taken from them. I just really hope they finally get to connect before… Whatever happens.

[carolinesbookworld]

tagged by @kabeswaters and @swellwriting <3

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? 0

describe yourself in a hashtag? very similar to @fortisfiliae #stressedanddepressed

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? Harrison Osterfield

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? prepare for disaster

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? um...idk my boyfriend knows basically everything about me sooooooo

what’s your wake up ritual? wake up, turn off alarm (bc with this at-home learning stuff i’ve been waking up like literally 1 min before my alarm goes off???), text good morning to my bf, snapchat, discord bc moonlit fam talks allll night, tumblr, get out of bed, wash face, get dressed, coffee and breakfast it’s very specific

what’s your go to bed ritual? wash glasses and face bc my skin is soo oily by the end of the day so you best believe my glasses be needing washing everyday, shower, say goodnight to fam, text bf for like 15 mins or until he says goodnight, turn alarm on, plug in phone, go to sleep

what’s your favorite time of day? morning but specifically from 7:30 until 9  

your go to for having a good laugh? FRIENDS as in the show

dream country to visit? Australia bc my dad once got to hold a baby koala there and i wanna do that so bad

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? so my family moved before my sophomore year so me and my bff started trying to surprise each other whenever one of us came to visit and the weekend of my birthday, she skypes me as she’s walking around what i thought was her house and then i start hearing an echo and next thing i know she’s standing in the doorway of my room and that was pretty much the best surprise ever

heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers converse

vintage or new? new but i love vintage aesthetic i just couldn’t live with it

who do you want to write your obituary? karli @swellwriting bc she is my brain twin and i would be mocking her horrible grammar and spelling from my grave and we would both get a good laugh about it in the afterlife

style icon? the mom i babysit for haha she’s like one of my best friends tho which sounds really weird but it’s true

what are three things you cannot live without? books, dogs, days that are exactly 65 degrees

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? um idk chocolate??

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? Sarah J. Maas, Eddie Redmayne, my boyfriend bc i haven’t had dinner with him for 47 days

what’s your biggest fear in life? losing the people i love...and spiders

window or aisle seat? window bc aisle makes me anxious that i’m in people’s way

what’s your current tv obsession? the cw’s nancy drew it’s so good please go watch it

favorite app? instagram, discord, or tumblr, depends on my mood

secret talent? um idk i can draw very realistic portraits of people when i take the time to

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? okay so technically this wasn’t me who did it but i was part of the adventure. when me and my boyfriend were just “friends” ie. liked each other and knew we liked each other but were too scared to admit it. anyway, we had this elaborate plan to shave our youth group leader’s head if we were able to bring in a certain amount of food for the food drive during vbs week. so yeah we spent like three days planning the whole thing out and then decided to go price shopping at walmart with all of our younger siblings bc we needed supervision or something lol to see how many individual things of food we could buy with $20 each we ended up just getting like 20 huge boxes of ramen and then his sister ended up throwing up so we took her home and then went back to church where my car was parked but instead of turning to get to church my boyfriend decides to go straight through the stop light (it was green okay) and spontaneously drive up into the foothills. well we get to the top of the foothills and we’re at the lake and we all get out to look at the city and my boyfriend claims that we need to document this moment so he takes a selfie with all of us and we somehow ended up right next to each other in it and i only found this out like three months ago (this happened back in june) that he only took the picture because he wanted one of us together in case we didn’t start dating lol so sweet and yeah, that was a very long story but i needed context instead of just saying “yeah we drove up a mountain”

how would you define yourself in three words? loyal, anxious, passionate

favorite piece of clothing you own? this dark coral dress that makes my eyes and hair look really pretty

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? a hoodie

a superpower you would want? i want to be able to project my thoughts into someone else’s mind bc i’m so bad at explaining stuff sometimes especially when it comes to how i feel

what’s inspiring you in life right now? ACOTAR series by Sarah J. Maas, highly recommend

best piece of advice you’ve received? opening up to more than one person is important because if you lose that person then you’ve lost all your support

best advice you’d give your teenage self? the friends who have stuck around this long are the ones you want to hang onto and the ones that you need are the ones you don’t always see

a book everyone should read? The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

what would you like to be remembered for? being a crazy dog mama

how do you define beauty? confidence in yourself and not caring what others think about you

what do you love most about your body? my metabolism

best way to take a rest/decompress? open a window to feel the breeze and listen to Islands by Hey Ocean! which is so calming to me

favorite place to view art? nature or tumblr

if your life was a song, what would the title be? we’re going with a fob/p!atd theme here and calling it “depression screwed me over so i screwed it back and ended up worse off”

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? probably on my forearm or by my left hip

dolphins or koalas? koalas did i mention that i want to hold a baby koala

what’s an animal that represents you? great dane puppy ie. very excitable but will also take a four hour nap when tired

best gift you’ve ever received? my best friend made this photo collage for me when i moved that is hanging in my room and it has a bunch of pictures of me and her over the years and i just love it

best gift you’ve given? for christmas i gave my boyfriend a hammock and the bookshelf addition of clue, two things he had no idea i would remember him mentioning and his face was priceless. also i made my mom a cake for her birthday this year and she was so happy and said it made her feel very special <3

what’s your favorite board game? clue or ticket to ride (specifically nordic countries)

what’s your favorite color? currently a pale turquoise

least favorite color? any shade of light brown

diamond or pearls? diamonds

drugstore makeup or designer? drugstore bc i don’t wear makeup enough to validate buying designer, also i don’t really care

pilates or yoga? yoga

coffee or tea? coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee cof-

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? palindrome is wild because it means a word spelled the same way forwards and backwards but it itself is not one such word

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk

stairs or elevators? stairs

summer or winter? summer but like, only june

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? panera mac n cheese

a dessert you don’t like? red velvet cake which btw is not red-colored chocolate cake as many would have you believe

a skill you’re working on mastering? writing

best thing to happen to you today? i got to put all of my new plants in my windowsill and i named one of them (its name is albert in case you were wondering)

worst thing to happen to you today? idk today’s been pretty good as far as quarantine goes

best compliment you’ve ever received? my boyfriend calls me beautiful all the time and he always reminds me that that is describing looks and personality

favorite smell? coffee or my boyfriend’s sweatshirt for the week after i steal it

hugs or kisses? can i choose both?? depends on my mood mostly but i guess hugs if i just had to pick one

if you made a documentary, would it be about? literally anything relating to the mcu

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? a court of wings and ruin by sjm

lipstick or lipgloss? lipstick

sweet or savory? sweet

girl crush? literally any female in the teen wolf cast

how do you know you’re in love? hahahaha haha what's love

a song you can listen to on repeat? we fall apart by we as human or uma thurman by fob

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? idk my boyfriend probably, this is something we have discussed in depth

what are you most excited for/about this time in your life? for life to go back to normal

tagging @finnofamerica @woakiees @beskarjedi @outerlacy @swanimagines hahahahaha have funnnnn this took me an hour to answer

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Two (part 10)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Part 11: here 

.

Apparently, Vivi needs time to process the fact that her Arthur is not in any danger because she stands in quiet contemplation for several long seconds. Her face scrunches, brows creasing, and she massages her chin thoughtfully. Most likely, she is revising whatever theories she’d concocted since their last encounter. Arthur uses the brief reprieve to float over to Vivi’s desk and right the lamp he’d accidentally knocked over. However, when he reaches to touch it, the bulb flickers on, startling him. He hastily jerks his hand back. The lamp goes dark. Arthur hesitates, but nothing explodes, so he hovers his hand near the lamp, watching the light spark. A quick check under the table confirms that it is not plugged in. Perplexed, he switches sides, but his metallic arm elicits the same response. Weird, but also fascinating. Arthur must be producing some form of charge, creating an electric field. It can’t be the static because, now he is relaxed, the sparks - which are usually jumping every which way - have quietened, becoming almost non-existent.

“I think it’s pretty cool.” Vivi, having finished her reflection, steps beside him and gives her lamp an excited grin, like it’s not just a faulty bit of electronics.

“Uh.” Arthur is not sure if ‘cool’ is the right word. He pulls back. The lamp flickers off.

“Your anchor does that too,” Vivi continues, pointing at his heart. Impulsively, Arthur coves it, drawing back and angling away.  

Vivi freezes and quickly flushes with embarrassment, stepping back, “Sorry. Was that rude? It felt rude.”

Arthur jumps to reassure her, “No…I mean…Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

She doesn’t buy it. “If it’s rude, you should let me know. None of this ‘I’m fine' when you’re obviously not, nonsense,” Vivi orders, actually rolling her eyes to show exasperation. She’s got the determined air about her that he has come to associate with a lecture on honestly and sharing one’s feelings.

Deliberately, Arthur moves his hand back to his side, motioning awkwardly, “It was the pointing that made me uneasy. I don’t think I like other people being near it.” He then quickly makes to continue their conversation, “What were you saying about this thing producing an electric field?”

Vivi falters, “Oh…” seemly thrown, like she’s not used people being immediately honest with her.  She recovers quickly, “Okay. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been carrying you in my purse. Mystery said we shouldn’t leave you lying around, and it felt wrong to stash you someplace random. I totally fried my phone and laptop.”

Vivi’s been carrying around his heart thingamajig in her purse? Arthur is surprisingly okay with this setup.

“I don’t mind. I think I would rather you carry me around than be left alone somewhere…” If he had a mouth, he would probably be grimacing, “What do mean by ‘fried your phone’?”

“You kind of short out nearby electronics. My whole bag caught fire,” Vivi elaborates, sounding way too enthused about the subject. “It was my fault really, I should have known that keeping you and my phone in the same spot wasn’t the best idea. The laptop thing was definitely my bad. Of course, if Mystery had just told me about the plasma stuff straight away, I might have cottoned on sooner.” She delivers the last sentence with an irritated frown.

“It...I mean 'I' must produce some type of charged electric or magnetic field,” He reasons, briefly glancing down at the heart, “I can probably fix your phone…Once I figure out how to control it." He tries to sound as apologetic as possible, hoping to compensate for his lack of facial features. His fingers let out several sparks.

“Oh! Hold on,” Vivi pipes, spinning to hurry and inspect a specific pile of books, “I have something for you.” She yanks out a thicker notebook form near the top then pulls free three additional tombs, all very old going off their many scuff marks. “I’ve been writing down everything I learn. You should read it. Maybe you’ll get some ideas.”

The pile wobbles dangerously before tipping over to scatter more paper across the floor. Vivi pays it not mind. Instead, she settles down at the centre of her blue, tasselled carpet, flipping open the notepad. Arthur floats closer, curious. She pats the floor next to her, beckoning him to sit, continuing to comment, “Also, Mystery says these books aren’t ‘entirely useless’ which is pretty much a glowing recommendation coming from him. I annotated the margins when I noticed a crossover in the information.”

Cautiously, Arthur drifts down into a cross-legged position, peering at the notepad. Not wanting to touch the paper, he simply examines the first page. It is covered in Vivi’s squiggly handwriting, with sticky-notes protruding at odd angles on all sides. Arthur recognises a few diagrams, describing a magnetic field, and some other info on lightning. Vivi flips the book around, so he is not trying to read upside-down.

“How long did this take you?” He wonders out loud, “How long have I been out?”

“About a week,” Vivi turns the page for him, “There’s a whole lot of stuff about elemental affinities further in. Did you know people have auras that naturally resonate with an element? Therefore, if a ghost is strong enough, it will automatically mimic its elemental affinity.”

Arthur nods vaguely. His own Vivi, the future Vivi, had come up with a similar theory after they’d run into one too many elemental themed ghosts. It’s nice to have confirmation. It’s also nice that Vivi can learn about this stuff without putting herself in danger.

“Anyway. Since you’re only mimicking lightning, this electricity or lightning will only act per your understanding of electricity or lightning. Of course, it’s also influenced by your emotions and mental state, which is kind of tricky to control, but it’s a start.”

“That…makes a bit of sense.”

He’s not sure how this information will help him manage the lightning because one doesn’t just stop understanding scientific facts, and figuring out his emotions sounds just as impossible. However, Arthur finds the act of simply knowing is already making him feel a load better. Sure, being dead was terrible, but he hadn’t realised how badly the lack of control and understanding was affecting him until it wasn’t.

He glances up to Vivi, “Thank you…for doing this.”

“Heh, it was nothing. Besides, Lewis was the one to make the connection between your mental state and your level of control, that you wouldn’t hurt us. Also, you, the other you, explained all the technical sciency things. So, I didn’t do much, aside from accidentally fry my laptop.”

“It means a lot.” He reiterates firmly. In his timeline, Vivi had harboured a lot of guilt after the incident, which had manifested in a refusal to accept credit for her work. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to notice. Good to know he could skip that drama this time around. Finally, he’ll be able to repay her for everything.

With new determination, Arthur reaches out to carefully turn the next page without help. Vivi stares openly then glances down. Her next smile is soft and more private. A smile for herself.  The amusement trickles back, warming his core. This time, instead of fading immediately into that void of numbness, it hangs over him like a cozy blanket.

Arthur still needs to figure out a way to exist in the same space as Lewis long enough to explain himself properly, but, in this moment, he is just going to enjoy the warmth.

.

NOTE: So Lewis was supposed to be in this part, but this conversation took more words then I planned. He’ll be in the next part though. 

Part 11: here

[moviepower]

Why do people criticize Jojo Rabbit?

We'd say that this is uncharted territory for distributor Disney, but the company did previously give us their futures face. Hmm. I saw Jojo Rabbit in the best place I could for movies, in my opinion.

For this list, we're looking at why Tyco ITTS 2019 black comedy has proven. So polarizing for critics just to clarify the critical reception thus far has been mostly positive and even watch mojo gave the film a rave review following its TIFF premiere.

Nevertheless, we can definitely see why a movie like this. Wouldn't win audiences over everywhere. Hey Joe, Joe, my old friend. Hi adults. Number 10, the controversial premise. I don't think I can do this last. Of course you can simply by reading it synopsis, you can tell why Jojo rabbit has stirred up so much controversy.

In the midst of world war II, a young German boy named Joe Joe dreams of becoming a Nazi upon learning that his mother has been harboring a Jewish girl in the attic though, Jo Jo begins to reevaluate his outlook on life. I tell them you will be in big trouble throughout this coming of age journey. Our titular character is guided by his imaginary friend.

Is it worth to watch Jojo Rabbit full movie

Who just so happens to be a flamboyantly incompetent, Adolf Hitler, as inventive as the premises, it was guaranteed to ignite passionate feelings. Critics are unsurprisingly split as to whether the film's premise is inspired or irresponsible. I wish more of our young boys had your blind fanaticism. Okay.

Number nine, how it stacks up to other satires and this world is ruined for everyone and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way Jojo rabbit. Isn't the first film to satirize Hitler or Nazis 1940 twos to be, or not to be was criticized upon release for its farcical, spin of Nazi occupied Poland.

But today is viewed as a comedy classic. I know you're quite famous in London kernel. They call you concentration camp Earhart. Yes. Yes, we do the concentrating and the poles do the camping Hitler. Technically isn't the protagonist and the great dictator. It's obvious who Charlie Chaplin was parodying. We can learn more about actress playing mother Jojo on Wikipedia.

Arguably the most famous sendup of Nazi Germany is Mel Brooks. The producers. In which two con men put on an intentionally horrible musical entitled springtime for Hitler. Practically a love letter to this own run a week week. Are you kidding display? It's got the close on page four. Some critics are ready to place Jojo rabbit alongside these revolutionary respected comedy.

What do critics write in reviews about Jojo Rabbit?

Others, however, would claim that the film has more in common with the bridge sit-com Hile, honey I'm home, which was so misguided and tasteless that it only lasted one episode. Oh 10 night. You will make an schnitzel. What a joke. You must be real mad at me, honey. I'm a very, very bad Hitler. Number eight, what's going on in the real world right now?

Fuck man. The house, although world war II is in the past. The same, unfortunately can not be said about bigotry. Nowhere was this more apparent than at the 2017 unite the right rally in Charlottesville, which attracted several hate groups, including neo-Nazis. Since prejudice and discrimination remain prevalent in today's world.

It's obvious why various critics would object to a film that makes light of Nazi Germany. Nevertheless, satire can reflect modern times as well as history in ways that straightforward drama can't. Some might argue that now isn't the right time for a Nazi satire, but others would debate that society needs a movie like Jojo rabbit. A great story about the Irishman is here.

Now more than ever, you're not to nuts. Jojo, tenue kids likes dressing up in front of you. If somebody wants to be part of a club. Number seven, the humor, the best weekend ever.

Soundtrack in the highest level of production

Wow. Your enjoyment of Jojo rabbit will hinder on how hard you laugh. Or of course, if you laugh, the film didn't tickle. Roger Freedman. Funnybone who wrote in his showbiz four one, one review Jojo rabbit is actually borderline antisemitic offensive on many levels and not even funny. Sam Adams of slate couldn't have disagreed more proclaiming for Jojo rabbit comedy.

Isn't a means to minimize, but to analyze wise, to pry at the way, hateful ideologies can be embraced as a comfort and how beneath their promise to. Blame how the world really works is an understanding no more sophisticated than a child's it's time to buy some books. Since humor is subjective, we guess there isn't always going to be a clear line between what's offensively funny and what's just plain offensive.

Oh God. Number six. Jewish jokes. Did you know, Jews can Z to each other's mind. So tell us, you know, who saw one? They could look just like us of Tyco. ITT satire is clearly the Nazis. However, the director who's of Jewish and Maori heritage also pokes fun at Judaism. Hi, well, the real Jordan Rumi was horrified by the audience's reception at the screening he attended.

Writing, you have no idea how it is to be surrounded by thousands of people laughing at jokes, specifically directed at Jews. That being said, Rumi seemed to be in the minority of a group that found the film. Hilarious. As with Borat and South park, many would argue that the humor and Jojo rabbit isn't intended to mock the Jewish faith, but to criticize how ignorant and Semites are a cute number five, the life is beautiful comparison, right?

Jojo Rabbit's reaction to mom's death

Yeah. Critics have stocked a Jojo rabbit up against numerous other films. But life is beautiful. Seems to be the one that's invited the most comparisons this 1997, Italian dromedy also presented world war II through a lighthearted lens, centering on a Jewish man who uses humor and imagination to shield his son from the horrors of the Holocaust. It's interesting what they write about this movie on Amazon.

Well, the film won an Academy award for best foreign language film, and even got nominated for best picture. There were those who found the movies comedic tone, inappropriate. Over two decades later, we will continue to debate if the movie is a life affirming fable or a dated misfire. It's actually eerie how much these two films have in common, especially since both one TIFs peoples choice award.

That is the strongest thing in the world. Number four, is it shocking enough? I was your age. I had an imaginary friend come in so much stuff even before the first trailer dropped Jojo rabbit was being built up as one of 20 nineteens most controversial movies. Weirdly enough though, some critics have expressed disappointment that the film isn't more shocking.

Well, audiences have arguably gotten more sensitive with time. There are still patrons who crave comedy that pushes the envelope to its limits. It's time to burn some books. Brian Talarico of the Chicago sun times felt Jojo rabbit played it too safe. Writing the final scenes of Jojo rabbit are too easy for a film that needs to be dangerous and daring. 

Are the best scenes already included in the trailer?

Even if the film doesn't go all out with its edgy concept. Seeing Tyco, ITT dresses, Adolf Hitler will be more than enough to make a few jobs drop. What am I going to do? No idea. Going down the house in Glen Winston church one, negotiate number three. It's depiction of Nazis. The playlist Charles romesco took issue with the films, humanization of antisemites writing.

YTT concedes that a good percentage of Nazis really do hold hate in their heart. But maintains that at least some of them aren't you two seem to be getting on. Well, it doesn't seem like a bad cost. How much pain and suffering the Nazis caused many audiences will understandably struggle with this message.

However, if Ron Jones proved anything with his third wave social experiment in 1967, it's that even ordinary people can get swept up in the dangerous ideals of fascism. Likewise, Jojo rabbit poses, a challenging question. If we're not willing to acknowledge the bad and the good in people, how can we ever rid ourselves of prejudice?

Nothing makes sense anymore. Yeah, I know. It's definitely not a good time to be a Nazi. Number two it's message. And mother took me. She's kind me like a person, whatever your thoughts on Jojo rabbit, Tyco ITT clearly wanted to spread an anti hate message. YTT also claims that he started writing the screenplay before Nazis regained relevance in the media.

There's little doubt that why TTS intent was noble, whether or not the final product successfully gets his message across is where critics are split. A doubt of the a V club felt that making fun of Nazi Germany had been done before. Thus taking away from the movies, broader anti hate theme. Peter Howell begged to differ in his Toronto star review writing Taika YTT knocks it out of deer park with the meaningful lunacy of his anti hate satire, which is equal parts.

Adolf Hitler's thread in the movie

Mel Brooks, West Henderson, and  own whimsical brilliance growing up too fast. Ten-year-olds and the celebrating war and talking politics. Before we continue, be sure to subscribe to our channel and ring the bell to get notified a better latest videos. You'll have the option to be notified for occasional videos or all of them.

If you're on your phone, make sure you go into your settings and switch on notifications. Number one it's depiction of Hitler. Well, they call me a scared rabbits. Okay. Let's address the giant rabbit in the room. Tyco YTT spends most of his screen time prancing around in a Nazi uniform and toothbrush mustache. If you want, you can read here about preparations for making a movie and other curiosities.

Without a doubt, YTT, didn't set out to deliver a serious or dignified portrayal of Hitler. Rather YTT aspired to make the fewer look as goofy and idiotic as possible. Oh, . Just painting Hitler as a wacky, even likable buffoon desensitized us to the atrocities. He committed though. Some may say yes while others may argue that it leaves audiences more informed and open-minded.

At the end of the day, everyone is going to have a different opinion of Jojo. Let them say whatever they want. People used to say a lot of nasty things about me. Oh, this guy's a lunatic. Oh, look at that psycho. He's going to get us all killed. Do you agree with our picks, check out this other recent clip from watch mojo and be sure to subscribe and ring the bell to be notified about our latest videos.

[purplesurveys]

682

what is your favorite kind of ice cream? This is in nearly every survey but uhhh cookies and cream. I also like queso real. if people could read your mind, what would they usually find? These days you’d find it almost empty, honestly. I’m nearly out of stuff to do, they’ve suspended online classes so I can’t be productive for school anyway, and I spend most of my days sleeping. In my defense it IS my way of catching up on rest after being excruciatingly burned out from January to the first few days of March, but it’s only a matter of time until I’m fully recharged again and I have to look for other ways to kill time. who do you talk to on the phone most often? My girlfriend. This question is super timely too, lmao. That’s all we can do these days. what's a song that makes you feel happy? Countdown by Beyoncé. It’s like Love on Top’s overlooked sister. what celebrity would you like to meet? Kristen Stewart or Hayley Williams, but they’re WORLDS cooler than me and I feel like I’d just unconsciously act stupid if I do meet them. 

Side note: So Paramore always calls a fan up on stage during their shows to sing Misery Business and I already have had a chance to be that fan. Usually the fans elbow each other to get to the front so Hayley has a better chance of seeing them and picking them. But knowing how much cooler Hayley is than me, I never volunteered and I was happy to stay unseen hahaha. what's the best concert you've ever been to? Paramore the second time. Coldplay was also BEAUTIFUL but it technically doesn’t count because Gabie and I watched the show from the top floor of a nearby parking lot – we weren’t actually in the concert grounds. Still a hell of an experience, though. what is your favorite clothing store? Independent stores that sell whatever fashion trends are making the rounds on Instagram is usually enough for me. H&M used to be my fave but I haven’t bought anything from there in a while. how did you meet your best friend? I met Angela in Grade 1 because our class numbers were right next to each other – I was 8 and she was 9. I met Gabie from a mutual friend. do you need money to be happy? Yes. I’m materialistic as fuck and I’m not even gonna try to hide it haha. what is something you do well? Getting kids and/or dogs to like me is one. what's a good idea you've had recently? Nothing’s really come up. This lockdown/school break hasn’t been requiring me to use my brain cells at all. what is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? Fried rice, sunny side eggs, hot dogs, and bacon. Sometimes I’ll also be in the mood for tapa, which tastes heavenly at breakfast. how far in advance do you prefer to plan? It depends on what I am planning... < Pretty much. I know what I want to be doing in the next five years, but at the same time I don’t know what I plan to do in the next five days. do you like to wear high heels? I love trying them on, wearing them to events, and how I look in them; but they never seem to like me. My toes or ankle usually start bleeding by the 2nd or 3rd hour of having them on. how many slices of pizza do you usually eat? Two or three. Four if I’m really hungry. can you remember life without technology? what was it like? Not really. I did grow up around gadgets, and before I was 4 I was already watching my cousins and uncles play the PS1. I don’t think I know of a world without technology beyond radio and TV considering I’m from Gen Z; but at the same time, it was also a time when adults were still a little wary of these new gadgets, so us kids weren’t allowed to use our Gameboys and PSPs for too long, and we were always encouraged to play outside. what gift would you like to receive? I just want a taste of outside/restaurant food again, dude. To be fair to my dad who’s a chef, he knows how to handle his ingredients and we still get to eat delicious meals despite the lockdown... but it doesn’t stop me from missing Frankie’s or Yabu.

what's the last thing you paid for? I paid for gas when I drove up to Gabie’s house like, three weekends ago. It was the last time I got to be outside before they implemented the suspension of classes. what's the last movie you watched? I think it was Titanic, when it was newly added to Netflix. do you remember your dreams? I’ll remember it sometimes, but my memory lifespan for dreams is only a couple of days. I have to write it down on my phone if it’s a dream I particularly don’t want to forget. do you play any instruments? No. I do know a couple of melodies on the piano, but I’m a phony and can’t say I genuinely know how to play the tunes – I can’t read notes, the way I position my fingers on the keys is abysmal, and I only know/memorize which keys to press because I watch YouTube covers over and over. do you always smile for pictures? Yeah. I find my neutral face super ugly so I always smile for the camera. what are you most excited about right now? I can’t say I’m excited for anything right now... it’s hard to be, with everything that’s been happening. I can’t even be excited for my own birthday next April, which might also get hit by the lockdown. if you had $5 in your pocket what would you spend it on? I’d do a quick run to a convenience store and get myself bottles of soju and mudshake to keep me company during this boring-ass break. how often do you buy things via the internet? Very seldom. I prefer spending my money on eating out. would you like to live in a different country? if so which one? Yeah absolutely, I always think of places to live in other than my own because this country really is the worst to be stuck in. I keep thinking Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. what animal would you see first if you went to the zoo? I dunno, I’ve never been to a ZOO zoo. But if I remember correctly, the ecopark we have in my high school has birds like the Philippine eagle and peacock as the first few animals you see. if you could switch places with someone for a day, who would it be? It’d be interesting to see how it feels like being Blue Ivy for even just 30 minutes lmao. do you prefer the aisle, middle, or window seat on a plane? Window, then middle, then aisle.  what's your favorite song from a movie? Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron & Wine that got played in Twilight and Breaking Dawn. where would you like to volunteer? If I could, I’d be helping the homeless in Metro Manila affected by the lockdown at the moment and give them food and clothes, considering our national government isn’t doing jack shit to help them. would you rather go out for dinner or cook at home? Go out for dinner precisely because I can’t cook. who sent the last text message you received? It was from my service provider saying I’m out of data for the week. what's your favorite flower? Peonies. what's the last song you listened to? I Will Always Think of You, from the BoJack Horseman soundtrack. do you like being alone? There are moods that I prefer it. Tonight is one of those nights, so yes. what was the last thing you ate? Chicken wings that my dad made for dinner. how do you find new music? Spotify is amazing at making recommendations based on the songs/artists you already listen to. I also get suggestions from friends. what is your dream travel destination? Thailand, Turkey, or Greece. if you could play any instrument what would it be? The piano. what's your favorite city? Locally, Makati or Vigan. Internationally, and that I’ve been to, Bali. what's the last youtube video you watched? I was watching BuzzFeed’s Worth It series. SO good, and so rewatchable. where are you going on your next trip? I dunno if we’re planning anything because of the virus. My next vacation might already be something I fund myself, once I get a job. what are you currently addicted to? Seafood.