#including my best friend of 15 years who despite living TWO BLOCKS AWAY never seems to have the time of day for me?

[erindrifter]

Did I just cry for 15 minutes because I suddenly had the existential dread that the single thing I actually want in my life seems to be just one step out of reach, and now I'm going to have that existential dread looming over my head while I get to seem all happy and cheerful because that's what people know me as and I hate disappointing people?

I mean, yeah, sure. Maybe I am slipping into a deep depression I've been skirting the edges of for a very long time now.

But I'm going to make it look interesting as I spiral! Metaphorically, that is...

[gayenerd]

Green Day Deals with the "Rock Star" Dookie 

by Tom Lanham 

(First appeared in BAM Magazine, March 10, 1995)

 Young, loud, and snotty equals beaucoup bucks? What pencil-pushing, graph-charting trend spotter could've predicted it? But the facts speak for themselves: As of late February, Dookie--the brattish, snap 'n' snarl Reprise salvo from Berkeley's sloppy punk trio, Green Day--has sold six million copies. Six million. Chances are, somebody on your block is jumping up and down in his living room at this very moment to the scrap-metal power chords and ardent apathy of "Longview," "Burnout," "Basket Case," or "When I Come Around" and getting lost in the teen abandon of these testy 22-year-olds--weasel-voiced, Montgomery-Clift-like charismatic singer/guitarist Billie Joe; tom-tom tribal percussionist Tre Cool (of the ever-morphing hair-color fame); and bassist Mike Dirnt (who survived Green Day's appearance at Woodstock '94, although several of his teeth did not). 

Yes, punk rock is a marketable phenomenon these days, leaving many involved with the music's initial late-'70s, early-'80s wave scratching their heads, wondering why it didn't take the first time around. Public reaction started as curiosity ("Hey, honey, c'mere and lookit these goofy, green-haired little whippersnappers in an insane asylum on MTV!"), but spiraled up to rock-diet necessity (Green Day just won Grammy and they're nominated for quite a few Bammies as well, including such categories as Outstanding Group, Outstanding Album, and Outstanding Song--"Longview" and "Basket Case"). The fact that they've been nominated at all probably sends a shiver up the old dinosaur backbones of Eddie Money, Huey Lewis, and Boz Scaggs, a time-creepy feeling of "Gee, what the hell do we do now?" Because this isn't just some flash-in-the-pan punk movement, folks--this is a youth movement; Green Day are, as they hiply term it, "bored in the 'burbs," and reaching out, through TV and radio, like some prodigal preachers to other American kids who sense the same slacker ennui. Obviously, we're talking truckloads of kids. 

Ironically, the more fame edges into the Green Day ruffians' lives, the more mature they seem to become. They've turned down all interview requests as of late, even People magazine, preferring to lay low until this tide of interest recedes. Billie Joe got married last autumn, and spent his honeymoon--not in any exotic, expensive locale--but in Berkeley's grand old Claremont Hotel. Cool recently became a father, and Billie Joe's child is due any day now. It's a responsibility they've both eagerly undertaken. Rob Cavallo, the boys' coproducer and A&R man at Reprise, swears they're "old souls, the smartest young kids I've ever met." It rings true. 

The first time I spoke with Green Day, in January of '94, Cool, Dirnt, and Billie Joe were lazing around their dingy basement apartment in Berkeley, sitting on chairs and couches with potentially painful springs poking through. Rock 'n' roll bubblegum cards were scattered across a coffee table, along with several bongs of various sizes, plus a four-and-a-half foot red plastic pipe dubbed "Bongzilla" leaned against a doorway. The only wall decoration, besides a Ren & Stimpy poster, was a Twister game mat nailed up in its entirety, presumably for high-schoolish humor's sake. 

When I'd met Billie Joe a few months earlier at a campus concert, his hair was dyed lime-green and featured squidlike tufts. Now it was dark brown, with only two tufts remaining, and both his ears and nose had piercings. Periodically during the interview, he'd ram a finger into that pierced nostril, rummage around, then stare idly at the resultant booger before flicking it on to the carpet. Cool wandered out of the rec room for several minutes, but returned, red-eyed, to proudly proclaim, "Lookit me! I'm stoned, dude!" Dirnt--when he wasn't strumming an acoustic guitar--kept watching their windowsill Sea Monkey tank, finally noting, "Hey, these Sea Monkeys look just like sperm!" 

Despite all these schoolboy, poo-poo wit trappings (dookie, after all, is kiddie slang for excrement), there was a sense of seasoned wisdom about them, a feeling that they were, as Cavallo postulated, truly old souls. Like the class clown who frustrates all of his teachers by also maintaining a 4.0 grade average, Green Day can afford to play because their work--brilliantly skewed three-minute pop songs, delivered with such vehemence and vitriol you don't dare doubt them--certainly speaks for itself. But, sooner or later, of course, the band has to speak for itself, too, so what follows is a set of excerpts from that first ratty-digs meeting, as well as a later chat with Billie Joe, sans sidekicks. How did Green Day take over the rock world in less than a year? That's the six-million-copy question, and hopefully we'll provide a few answers. 

* * * 

So punk is back, whether America likes it or not? 

BILLIE JOE: It's always been around, and everyone has their own interpretation of it. It's weird to actually call it "punk" again, when it's been there all the time. 

MIKE DIRNT: It's been springing up in little suburban areas, where people grab it and express themselves. 

TRE COOL: It's people who make a point of setting aside all responsibilities and just playing music. And doing fat joint after fat joint--you have to let go of things like paying rent, going to school, having a job. 

BJ: And, if you can't tell by my house, we don't have a very high standard of living. 

How does today's punk rock differ from its late-'70s cousin?

 BJ: I think it was all about art and fashion back then, really, because everyone who was a punk in England was in art school. I read an early interview with Dee Dee Ramone, where he said he wished the Ramones had more of a glamorous appeal, too, instead of playing in jeans and leather jackets. But it was definitely about fashion, until the Clash really brought out the political side. Our music came from being bored in the 'burbs. You get put in this high school situation, where you're learning someone else's rules in a room with 30 other people that you don't really like. There's nothing interesting about it whatsoever, so you pick up a guitar instead. 

But you all tried college, at least for awhile, right? 

MD: And then we started touring. Constantly. 

TC: So most of our reading now comes from highway signs. 

MD: It's the old grasshopper and the ant story. The thought of actually working is just so... 

TC: Sickening! 

MD: Yeah. So we put everything we had into not working. This is what I do best, and I was always told, "If you're gonna do something, do it the best you can." So why not do the best thing you can, too? 

You guys--at least Mike and Billie Joe--have known each other since you were 10? 

BJ: And the first conversation we ever had was about writing songs. And then we just started playing music. 

A lot of the stuff on your early Lookout! records shows what was on your mind at the time--namely, girls. 

BJ: That was pretty much the viewpoint of a 16-year-old kid. I don't write stuff like that anymore. The new songs are more about coming of age and being apathetic and neurotic.

 Where were your parents when you were touring [at age 16]? 

MD: At work, doing their own thing. 

BJ: My mom's worked a waitress job for like the past 40 years or something, and whatever I was doing was OK with her. 

MD: I moved out when I was 15, and I worked all the way through high school. 

BJ: And me, I've never held a job longer than two weeks. I tried to flip pizzas--it didn't work. I tried cleaning toilets in the Red Onion in El Sobrante. Me and TrŽ, we used to work for the SF Chronicle, selling papers. I sold three the first day, and the next day we just smoked pot, and we smoked pot the next day after that. So we had hella extra papers lying around. Our ultimate goal wasn't to get rich or famous or anything like that. It was to not have a regular job and not be miserable. 

MD: And I've lived in every city around here, except for Albany. Literally. And one thing we want to establish about ourselves is that we're just a bunch of geeks from the suburbs. 

Well, one of the first times I saw you, you guys were closing your set with Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger." That's pretty geeky. 

MD: I grew up on radio--that's all I had. When I was a little kid, I couldn't afford records. I'll tell you, I've been down to a dollar in my pocket a lot of times. I've even lived in my truck. I can remember shooting rats with a BB gun in the flat we used to live in, before they'd make it to our food. 

BJ: I've always been really good about saving. If I got some money, I'd put it away instead of spending it, and I'd buy ramen. 

Why name your disc Dookie? 

TC: Warner's said we could do anything we want, as long as we didn't say "Cop Killer." 

BJ: Somebody told our manager that the ad for it was the most tasteless thing they'd ever seen in Billboard magazine. 

What exactly do you mean on Dookie by "Welcome to Paradise"? 

BJ, MD, TC [in unison]: West Oakland! 

MD: Living in West Oakland, and going out to parties every night. 

So it cost, what, around $100,000 to make Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. We kept the advances low, because you gotta pay all that shit back. Everyone knows you can't become an instant millionaire just by signing, because there are so many people that want a piece of you. 

BJ: We hang out with mostly punks though, and they don't want anything we have. They could care less. And a lot of our friends don't even agree with us being on a major label. 

Is Green Day angry? 

BJ: No, I'm not angry, like, walking around all the time with a frown on my face. But the way my music is interpreted is very angry. 

MD: When you feel really strongly about something, you want to let it out in the most powerful way possible. 

Like the way you baited your old high school principal from the Warfield stage recently? 

MD: I think he was an asshole. He treated me with no respect. And for high school initiation, we got our heads shaved--that's the kind of small-town shit we had to deal with! Sometimes they made you push a penny up the street with your nose. But that's life, and anywhere you go, you're gonna hate a lot of shit in your life. You'll be handed

Dookie? 

MD: Yeah. Yeah, you'll be handed dookie through all parts of your life. And see, what you need to do is just deal with the dookie, build upon what you have, and make something out of the dookie, you know? Like an adobe dookie building! 

* * * 

Several months later, and Dookie is oozing its gooey way into the public consciousness big time. The fading summer heat sticks crackling to the Berkeley sidewalks as punks--many sporting monstrous green or fuchsia mohawks--zing by on skateboards by day, and huddle in Telegraph Avenue doorways by night, conserving feral body heat the whole time. It feels like another world here, a throwback to the Bay Area's DIY/hardcore scene of the early '80s, when squatters reigned supreme and burlesque Broadway--fueled by all-ages shows at the Mabuhay Gardens, On Broadway, and even an occasional GBH or UK Subs booking at the Stone--made weekend conversions to "Punk Playground, USA." It was the best of times; it was the worst of times--despite relentless touring, most of these bands sold bupkus in the way of records, and few, save Metallica, ever held pen in shaky hand over a major-label contract. 

Billie Joe saunters into the Berkeley coffeehouse in rumpled jeans and a grease-spattered flannel shirt; his once-green-and-tufty tresses have grown out into Wally Cleaver waves and been dyed a Rod Stewarty blond. He looks like one of those feisty punks of yore; like he could hold his own through sheer physical endurance in the wildest of thrash pits. There's a new authority about him, the way he strides confidently to the counter, orders a pint-size glass of coffee, then swims through a sea of late-lunching yuppies to grab a table. The singer doesn't seem to notice them at all. Or maybe he's just too tired from nonstop touring to really give a shit. He smiles a goofy grin, revealing a set of generally crooked or chipped choppers, with an entire half of one front tooth missing. But there's such charisma behind it, the same kind of "Who, me?" innocence that little kids use. Billie Joe, you might say, has quickly become the Bart Simpson of the alternative set. 

How else could you explain his uncensored performance at a certain outdoor arena where--in a hyperspeed set lasting only 30 minutes before management threatened to pull the plug--he a) unzipped his fly and paraded his privates around for all to see; b) handed a stunned fan his beat-up, sticker-plastered guitar and urged him to play it; c) destroyed a $600 microphone by smashing it into the stage, then destroyed a second mike he was handed as well; and d) encouraged half the venue to chant, "Rock 'n' roll!" and the other half to respond with, "Shut the fuck up!" He then closed the show with a proposition--"They'll be really angry with us, but what we could do is rip out the seats!" he told the audience, which promptly gave Green Day a standing ovation. Billie Joe not only shrugs off such shenanigans as artistic license, he gets away with them! He's even encouraged to continue by fans who empathize with his uppity "fuck authority" attitude. 

But the facts were all on the table as Billie Joe sipped his house blend that afternoon, and it didn't take a fortune teller to read 'em. Green Day was hitting big time. Fast. And the sheer enormity of the undertaking, the weight of all its accordant responsibility, was just beginning to hit him. He looked older, wiser, and spoke in more grownup tones about his future, which then included a pending marriage to longtime girlfriend Adrienne. You could practically feel this new maturity encircling him like some protective aura. 

* * * 

=Where do all these punks on Telegraph come from? They can't all be local and homeless. 

I think Telegraph has just become this cultural mecca for punk rockers, because most of 'em who are on the Avenue aren't even from here. They're from Arizona, Minneapolis, New York, Florida. They just come out and end up squatting in houses in Berkeley. Why here? It's the climate, and the scene itself--Gilman Street and Maximum Rock 'n' Roll are in this area, and have a link to each other. But at the same time, it's separated, because there are so many different factions of punk now. There are the squatters, the pop-cores, the mods, the crusties. And all these types of people come out just to check it out. Plus, there's the best coffee in Berkeley, and a lot of 'em are real super coffee-drinkers, just pounding cup after cup all the time. It's pretty rare to come across a punk who doesn't drink coffee. I can't drink too much coffee myself--it gives me the shakes at night, so I just have a little bit during the day. Then I can smoke dope and go to bed. 

=What's the attraction in squatting or homelessness for these kids? 

For a lot of 'em, it's the first sense of freedom that they've had. It's like, "You mean I don't have to be home by midnight?" They've pretty much told their families and schools to go fuck themselves, so they go off and do their own thing. When I was 17, I did the same thing. And I had this total sense of freedom, where no one's telling you what to do, you don't have a clock to punch in on, you don't have people breathing down your neck; you don't have any deadlines to meet. You have this endless schedule where you can stay up all night drinking with your friends, or do anything you want. 

=But isn't "Coming Clean" about leaving behind your wilder ways? 

It's also about coming to grips with your sexuality. There's one line, "Skeletons come to life in my closet." And it's like, "Am I homosexual or heterosexual?" You go through this adolescent stage in your life where you don't really know what you are, and one side is taboo because your parents brought you up to think being gay was wrong. And if you come to grips with yourself, that you happen to be gay or bi or whatever, well, that was one thing about punk that was so accepting--all creeds were welcome, all sexualities, everything. 

=Was this something you went through personally? 

Yeah, to a certain extent. But I don't want to go around waving a gay flag or anything. 

=Well, you had a beautiful girl on your arm backstage at the last Green Day show. 

That's Adrienne. She's cool. Actually, we're engaged. That's why it took me so long getting here today--I had to get this! [Rolls sleeve up on tattooed arm, points to a bandaged-on cotton swab] Blood test, dude! We're getting married next week! 

=Has anybody tried to tell you you're too young for such a serious move? 

Of course. There are a lot of people who've said stuff. My parents have been a little more understanding than her parents. I just called my mom yesterday and said, "Mom, I'm gettin' married," and she said, "That's fine, son. Have fun!" I can hardly surprise my mother nowadays. But [this relationship] has been a recurring thing for the past four years, and we just decided to get serious about it. She's coming out here, and we're moving in together, so it's like, "Why not?" I don't really have any wild oats to sow, or anything like that. I'm not into the "Gettin' chicks all the time" thing.

 =I know a lot of girls who'll be really bummed that you're gittin' hitched. They all seem to have developed a crush on you... 

Me?! It must be the teeth [grins again].

 =OK, so maybe you didn't brush often enough when you were young. But you were busy developing a direction... 

I wouldn't necessarily say I had a direction or anything. I just knew I wanted to write songs. It comes from...uh...I don't know. I have no idea. It wasn't any kind of cosmic force or anything like that; it was just a matter of having a guitar around and wanting to play it all the time. I've had the same guitar since I was 11--I bought it off this guy at a guitar store. And I still play it--you know, the blue one with stickers all over it? That's my blue guitar, and, for some reason, things come to life, and everyone calls it "Blue" now--"Where's Blue? Can I pick up Blue and play it?" 

=And you let just anybody touch it? 

Oh yeah! Blue's not prejudiced. 

=It's interesting to note that the general public seems to think Dookie is your debut. 

Yeah, but that's just the general public. There are people who've been with us since the beginning, who know how long we've been around, since our first 7-inch came out back in '89. 

=And now you can afford to trash pricey microphones. 

Actually, Warner Brothers paid for those. It was pretty nice of 'em. They looked really nice--I remember looking at 'em and thinking, "Nice microphones!" They gave me one mike and I took it and threw it down, and they gave me another, and at the end of the set I creamed it pretty hard, I guess. We toured Europe with this band Die Toten Hosen--we played nine dates with 'em--and we got charged for a microphone every night. I dunno, for some reason we just started smashing shit. We'd start throwing equipment around at the end of each set, and these kids would start grabbing Tre's drum set and throwing it, and then they started smashing the microphones too. And the bouncers just couldn't do anything about it. 

=And you actually yanked your dick out onstage too? 

I did. Totally. It was the real thing. I dunno. The bands that we were playing with were just boring. It was more like making a mockery of the whole thing. The big arena rock thing is just so dated now, like Journey or Queen. Which is why I think punk rock started to begin with--it was this reaction to all the dinosaur bands. So for me, that show was, "How can we make a complete mockery of this but at the same time have fun with it?" I like to leave people guessing, "Did he hate that or did he like that?" It's not that I don't care--it's more that I'm careless. I try to be as happy-go-lucky as I can, but you can become apathetic at the same time. 

=Do you feel like Green Day is a part of, or represents, the so-called "slacker generation"? 

There's one side of me that doesn't mind it, because it's a generational thing, and another side of me that says, "Fuck that!" The reason I wrote the songs is, I ended up going back to Rodeo, where I'm from, for a week. And then I said, "Fuck it," and left. But I managed to get several good songs out of it. A lot of my friends had just turned into complete burnouts. And these are kids I've known since kindergarten, because it's a small town and you know everybody. And it was all fixing cars, staying up all night on methamphetamines, smoking dope, and finding out all these rumors about people I haven't heard of in 10 years. Like, "Oh, did you hear about so-and-so, who got married, had three kids, and ended up shooting everybody in his family?" And it happened! It was a true story! You're there for one week, and you get caught up in it. You get so bored, all you wanna do is watch television. And there are no record stores, nothing around, so you end up hanging out with all these delinquents who aren't punkers at all, just cultural idiots. So I was watching all these people rot and rotting with them until I realized, "Shit! I gotta get the fuck outta here!" 

=As they say, you can never go home again. 

Oh yeah, definitely. Unless you get pregnant, like my sister did. Then you have to go. But I quit school my senior year--I just wasn't getting anything out of it. I was taking nine periods a day, plus night classes, which left me no time to smoke dope whatsoever. And my mom even suggested I drop out, because she was a dropout, too. I come from a long line of dropouts. I still have nightmares about being late with my homework assignments. When I finally went in to sign out of high school, the teacher went, "Now, who are you again?" 

=And if that teacher could see you now! 

A lot of people think you get this big connection with a corporate label, and you make millions of dollars, but they don't understand that you just don't make that much money. And when you do, it's easy to piss it away. I mean, every cent that I've made, I've pissed away. I'm not gonna say how I did it, but I don't have it But I don't think you necessarily have to be a punk to decide to say, "Fuck it." You don't even have to have a direction. It's just a matter of getting the fuck out and exploring things for yourself. 

=But didn't you feel abject terror when you first set out on your own? 

Nah, I didn't. Because, for some reason, I knew things were gonna be all right. You can create your own future as long as karma's on your side. And I'm a strong believer in karma. I think things can come back to you if you're just willing to give. 

* * * 

True enough. At least six million times over!

1995 Tom Lanham

[itawonka-creates]

Seabourne Burnouts: Chapter 15 - Aground

Thank you @kimihonna for beta reading and @dickisabanana for beta reading and helping with the title name.

Start [Here] [Part 14] [Part 16]  -OR- [AO3]

Damian tried to dodge Dick’s most recent attempt at communication, but considering he was blocking the only exit from his room Damian was stuck. Damian’s neutral expression was becoming more and more unnerving and Dick wished he’d say more than just a few sentences a day. “Damian, come on. You should come with us. We’ll be leaving soon.” Damian just stared him down before grabbing his arm and flipping him onto the bed across the room. A small “oof” was heard in the quiet room and Dick groaned, “Come on! Work with me here!”

Damian just shook his head and started walking out the door. Dick scrambled to catch up to him, “You’re already dressed and ready. Let’s get off the ship! Walk around, see the sights, let’s just live a little!” Damian continued to actively ignore his brother as he walked down the halls. It was a fight to get him cleaned up in the first place. The boy stuck himself in his room and did his best to avoid talking to anyone. He was reminded of Marinette after the initial attack on the ship, except Dick knew what would happen once that façade broke. Once Damian’s did, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Dick sighed, “You’re being difficult.”

Damian paused and Dick briefly wondered if he finally got through to him. That was immediately proven right when Damian glared and drew his arm back to punch the man. Dick quickly blocked the attack and prepared for another, but Damian continued walking. Dick felt a bit of relief, the punching is more familiar. It meant he was starting to get frustrated and if he loses his cool then he’ll finally open up. Dick knew how to handle Damian when he was angry, that was easy. However, the silence was killing him.  

“You know we still have to see them off though.” Damian didn’t respond, instead choosing to change course and walking towards the deck. Dick wondered if they’d see Marinette and her friends, but then he had to wonder about Damian’s reaction to her. He hoped his brother’s reaction would give him some kind of insight on what happened. Tim said he would go and get some information so he wouldn’t have to, but that was yesterday and none of them have seen him since.

Damian blinked as he adjusted his eyes to different lighting. It was a clear day; the sun strong and there was hardly a cloud in the sky. Perfect for a good outing, but annoying to him. Laying eyes on Jason, he walked over and leaned against the railing. Damian scanned the class, all were excited to explore but all seemed tired. If he was honest, everyone seemed tired; the students, the staff, the other passengers, and his father included. He watched as Bruce walked around, greeted the team that boarded, and tried to push through the day. Damian always wondered how he hasn’t spotted any gray hairs yet.

Some loud giggling caught his attention and it was no surprise to see who it was. He figured the girls would do their best to gather and cheer Marinette up, that’s just what friends do. What he wasn’t expecting was the change in clothes. It was almost funny, she seemed embarrassed but her outfit wasn’t anything inappropriate. It was just a bit different. Her hair was up in a ponytail, her dark jeans complemented the white off the shoulder blouse she wore, and her tennis shoes gave a casual feel to the whole thing. He recognized the glasses that Jason gave her sitting on top of her head and thought if she was ever to wear them, she’d look like the most unintimidating police officer ever. Seeing her laugh as her friends pushed her forward despite her hesitance made him feel oddly relaxed.

Dick and Jason had their eyes glued on the boy as soon as they noticed Marinette coming into view. Damian’s stone-faced façade soon morphed into one of subtle surprise, then regret, then amusement, and finally rested on a soft smile. Dick and Jason just looked at Damian with pity. The way he looked at her, the fondness of his expression, meant that Damian was too far gone and they had their work cut out for them. It would’ve been cute if they weren’t avoiding each other. Right now, they were just happy to see any emotion at all.

Jason sighed as he turned his attention back to the group of girls. Chloe looked up and made eye contact for a brief second before bringing Marinette’s attention further away from their vantage point. He knew what she was doing and he wasn’t even mad. She didn’t want to ruin Marinette’s day. Still, he did miss their company. Marinette and her friends really made the trip bearable. Besides, he was actually attached to the girl and he missed their banter.

Jason turned back to his brothers, ready to suggest they start heading out with the groups, when a shrill shriek caught everyone off guard. He turned back around to see Marinette running off the ship and jumping into the arms of an older woman waiting for her harbor by a motorcycle.

It took Dick a moment to snap out of his confusion to finally ask, “Who’s that? Do we know who that is?”

Damian shook his head, “No.”

“Oh my god, you actually spoke.” Damian didn’t respond, but Dick was too proud of himself to care. “Yes! Jason, now we can – Jason?” The two were waiting for a similar reaction from their brother, but Jason has not moved since locking onto the sight of Marinette and the woman. “Jason? Hello? What? You like the bike or something?”

Suddenly, his eyes went wide and Dick could’ve sworn he saw a lightbulb go off in his head before Jason suddenly took off. Damian and Dick shared a confused look before following. Jason was running full speed towards this woman and Dick can’t remember him ever reacting like this to anyone. Either this was going to be really good or really bad, but both were mentally preparing themselves for either option. Dick caught Bruce’s eye and Bruce looked just as confused but too busy with his clients to chase after them.

As they got to the bridge connecting the ship to the harbor, Damian stopped and instead chose to stay and watch by the railings. If Marinette was avoiding him, it was probably a bad idea to just run-up to her. Besides, he had faith Dick could hold him back long enough for Damian to catch up if things went south.

He watched as Jason skidded to a stop a few feet away from the two. Both Jason and Dick were panting slightly and Dick was ready to spring into action at any second. Marinette seemed to be just as tense and surprised to see him run up to them. Yet, instead of trying to fight this woman, they just stared at each other before Jason finally broke the silence.

“Gina?”

The woman blinked before grinning, “Jason?”

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and started laughing, “Oh my god!”

Marinette looked between the two and pointed at Jason, “You know him?”

Gina laughed, “Know him? He wouldn’t leave me alone for a good two months!” She outstretched her arm and motioned for Jason to come over. Jason immediately engulfed Gina in a hug and Marinette just looked to Dick for answers. Dick simply shook his head and shrugged. Gina pulled away and looked him over, “You’ve gotten bigger! You look tired though.”

Jason chuckled, “It’s been a long time, Gina.”

“Excuse me! Wait!” The three turned to Marinette as she struggled to comprehend the situation, “Grandma, Jason, how on earth do you know each other?!”

Gina simply laughed moved in to pinch both of Jason’s cheeks, despite Jason’s best efforts to dodge her. Gina squeezed and cooed, “I met this young man on one of my trips! He beat up some muggers and then practically inhaled all the food I gave him as a thank you.”

Through clenched teeth, Jason protested, “I did not inhale!”

Jason managed to pull away to rub his cheeks and playfully glare at the older woman, but both couldn’t help but smile at each other. Gina examined him, walking around and taking in all the changes she could notice from the last decade and sighed. “What on earth have they been doing to you?”

Jason licked his lips and diverted his attention to Marinette for a moment, “A lot can happen in 10 years.”

Dick coughed loudly, bringing back the attention of the two old friends, and motioned to Gina. “And when did this happen?”

Jason looked between the two ladies before turning back to Dick, “Do you remember when I ran away?” It took him a second to understand what Jason meant, but Dick gulped and nodded. “Well, during that time I hit a bit of a rough spot. That’s when I met Gina and she took care of me for like two months.”

“He’s the grandson I always wanted. Likes motorcycles, brave, handsome, not the brightest but his heart is in the right place, no?”

Dick snorted and Jason rolled his eyes, “Thank you, Gina.”

Marinette pointed between the two, “Wait, he’s the-“ She cut herself off and ran her fingers through her hair, “Oh my god, Jason actually is my brother.”

Jason blinked and looked at Gina, “Wait, you’re actually her grandma?”

“I’ve told you about Marinette!”

“Yeah, but you never showed me any photos or anything!” He walked over and slung his arm over Marinette’s shoulders, “So, how does it feel?”

“How does what feel?”

“To be my little sister.”

“She is not your sister!”

Gina lightly smacked Dick’s chest, “Nonsense, I always considered Jason as family.”

“You heard the lady. Siblings, bitch.”

Marinette gasped, “Language!”

Jason was ready to retort when he caught Gina’s eye. She had a look that screamed “I dare you” and Jason dropped it. “Sorry.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, “I can’t believe his stupid joke was right.” He looked at Marinette and apologized, “I’m so sorry.”

“Screw you, Dick.”

“Jason!”

“No, Grandma, that’s his name. Dick Grayson. That’s Jason’s brother.”

Gina looked Dick over then shrugged and made a so-so motion with her hand, “He seems fine.” Before Dick could say anything, Gina laughed and hugged the man, “I’m joking. Nice to meet you.”

It took a moment to reciprocate, but Dick gave the older woman a small squeeze. “Nice to meet you too. We love your granddaughter.”

“That’s not a surprise, but always good to hear.” Gina walked over and kissed the top of Marinette’s head, “Honestly, I’d be surprised if someone didn’t like her.” She laughed, but when the other three laughed half-heartedly she stopped. “Wait, where’s someone who doesn’t like you?”

Marinette flinched, “Well, I wouldn’t go that far-”

“Oh Gina, there’s this evil little girl in her class. The worst. Absolutely mental. I’ve been trying to convince her to let me throw her overboard since we met.”

“Jason! Grandma, I can handle it.”

Gina hummed and looked on deck. She recognized most of her classmates from her birthday party and from pictures, but there were a few that stood out. Two kids around Marinette’s age, a boy staring at them by the railings and a girl talking a group of some of Marinette’s friends, she realized she’s never seen before. “Is it that one?”

They looked over and Marinette groaned, “One, that’s a she-“

“I vote we use ‘it’ from now on.”

“- and two, yes.”

“Okay, so that’s her. Who’s the boy staring at us by the rails?” The brothers both tensed as they watched Marinette looked around, trying to figure out who her grandmother was referring to. There was a visible change in her body language as she became rigid and immediately looked away. Dick looked over to see Damian with his back turned to them, most likely because he was caught. Gina pointed at Damian and said, “I’m going to make a wild guess and say that’s the boy your mother’s been telling me about.”

Marinette’s face flushed, “Grandma!”

“Did you two fight?”

Marinette bit her lip as she looked between the two men standing beside her before hesitantly nodding. Gina hummed before taking her helmet off her bike and reeling her arm back. “Grandma, what are you-” Gina grunted as she threw the helmet full force towards the boy. All three watched in disbelief as the helmet flew through the air and right before impact, Damian put his hand up and caught it. Marinette let out a huge breath she didn’t realize she was holding in, “GRANDMA!”

“Good reflexes.”

“You cannot go throwing helmets at people like that!”

“Sure I can. I have your helmet here too. I can probably hit that girl Jason mentioned.”

“Grandma, no!”

“Grandma, yes!” Jason quickly shoved the other helmet into Gina’s arms and pulled Marinette back.

“Jason-”

Jason harshly shushed her, “This is karma. Let grandma do her thing.”

Marinette struggled in his grip, “She is not your grandma! Grandma, don’t you dare throw that helmet!”

Gina reeled her arm back and Dick quickly jumped in, “WOAH! Woah! Let’s calm down! None of us like Lila, but assaulting a child is not the answer.”

“But it is an answer. One I am happy to go with.”

“Jason, I swear if you don’t-”

“No, no, he’s right. We should probably leave her be. Besides, it’ll dent the helmet.”

Gina and Jason smiled at each other. While Dick didn’t know Gina, he knew Jason and that particular smile meant something was brewing inside his head. He could feel a migraine coming on as he watched the two laugh as if they made some kind of inside joke.

Marinette wiggled her way out of Jason’s grip and stomped her foot, “No fair! How come he got to go on one of your trips? You promised me one!”

“Yes, but your mother wanted me to wait until you were at least 16 to take you anywhere.” Marinette frowned and sighed, defeated. Jason snickered before Gina poked his chest, “Don’t laugh at her. It’s not like I brought you along with me. You just didn’t leave.”

“You loved me.”

Gina put a hand on her hip and nodded reluctantly, “Yes, yes, but you worried me. You still worry me.”

“You know, as your actual granddaughter, I’m feeling a little left out.”

Gina rolled her eyes and hugged Marinette, “I love you too.” Marinette smiled and let herself melt into her grandmother’s hold. “Now, what do you want to do today?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fun if I’m with you.”

A notification went off on Dick’s phone, but as soon as he checked it he turned and caught Gina’s incoming helmet. The two ladies jumped in surprise while Jason just looked confused. Dick looked up at the railings and Damian sent him a curt nod, “You could’ve just brought it down!” He noticed Damian look at someone behind him and give a small wave. Dick didn’t have to turn around to know who it was for.

“OKAY!” Marinette started pushing her grandmother towards the bike, “You got your helmet back, the day is young, I’ll drive! Jason you coming?”

“You want me to come?”

“Well, yeah. You guys need to catch up, no?”

“Marinette, he doesn’t even have a bike with him.”

Jason smirked, “Gina, I always have my bike with me.”

Dick groaned, “Please, no-” Jason pulled out a set of keys and pushed a button. They watched as the crowd started yelling and quickly jumped out of the way as a motorcycle made its way down to the harbor and next to Jason. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose as Jason pulled his helmet off the bike’s handle, “And when exactly were you planning on telling us you brought your bike?”

“Can’t tell you when if I was never going to.” Jason turned back to the girls, “Anyways, where are we going ladies?” He watched Gina walked around the bike, admiring it, before holding her hand out while her back was still turned to him. Jason frowned and handed over his keys and she tossed her own keys to Marinette. Jason rolled his eyes and put on his helmet. He realized he forgot how might lighter normal helmets were compared to the Red Hood mask.

He walked over and got onto Gina’s bike with Marinette getting on as well. He could tell she was still incredibly uncomfortable based on the stiffness of her body and how tightly she squeezed his waist. He sent a quick text to his brother and, when he realized Bruce was watching him from the deck, saluted as he drove off to follow Gina into the city streets. He could feel Marinette relax the further they got from the docks and it saddened him to know she was this uncomfortable around his family.

He heard her call to him, “Where do you think grandma is taking us?”

“Don’t know. Knowing Gina, probably somewhere that’ll make us feel nostalgic.”

She hummed, “So how did you actually meet my grandma, Jason?”

“I told you, I ran away and-“

“I can tell when you guys are hiding something. I bet grandma saw it too.” He pressed his lips into a straight line as he struggled to find the right words. Luckily he didn’t have to, “You don’t have to give me all the details and if you don’t want to talk about it it’s fine.”

He relaxed a bit and smiled, “Thanks, Marinette.”

She giggled and looked around the streets. It was a beautiful day and she had a feeling things were going to be peaceful today. “Mom and Dad are going to freak out when they find out you’re the long lost son of the Dupain-Cheng family. You’ll have a whole cake and party waiting for you if you ever come by the bakery.”

Jason laughed, “Well then, I’m just going to have to book the next ticket.”

She nodded and smiled when she realized where they stopped. It wasn’t like Andre’s back home, but a nice ice cream parlor and good shading made for a close second. Jason offered to pay for everything, but Gina refused and left the two to go get ice cream for the group. Marinette closed her eyes and reveled in the soft breeze that swept through. Jason cracked his neck and hummed, “I feel like this will be a calm day, for once.”

“Don’t jinx this for me, Jason.”

He knocked on the wooden bench beneath them. He stretched and looked around, “When was the last time you did something like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like this. Something normal.”

Marinette tried to think back and realized it’s been a few months since she’s gotten to sit down and be present with people she cared about. Sure, she had the sleepovers and dinners, but those usually were to cheer her up or required by their circumstances. This was meant to cheer her up too, but instead of being a party or a loud dinner it was just peaceful. She could actually think clearly and she felt like a weight was lifted. She smiled, “It’s been a while.”

“Same here.”

Gina came back with their sweet treats and the three began sharing different stories of adventures they’ve had together. Marinette never realized how different Jason’s life was until they started talking about their time together.

“You used to sneak out and I had to wait up for you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“You came back with new bruises every night!”

“I couldn’t sleep!” Her expression deadpanned and he shrugged, “I already told you what I was doing.”

“Fighting crime is not a viable excuse for a 14-year-old.”

“Hey, I always came home didn’t I?”

Gina opened her mouth to retort but shook her head and shoveled some ice cream into his mouth, “Just eat.”

Jason chuckled and licked his lips, “Marinette, I drove your grandma crazy.”

She laughed, “Sounds like it. What happened though? Why did you only stay for two months?”

The two adults looked at each other and Gina offered, “Do you want me to tell her?”

“No. No. I can do it.” Jason thought for a moment before saying, “Your grandma offered to take me with her. She wanted me to live with her.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He looked at his empty bowl of ice cream and frowned, “Some things came up. Things from the past. I realized I still had a lot of unfinished business to take care of and I couldn’t let go of any of it. I couldn’t pull your grandma into that, so I just left.”

Gina pulled Jason’s hands away and held them, gently squeezing and rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “You know, I always wondered what happened to you. I saw a lot of you in Marinette too. She’s just as hard-headed-”

“Hey!”

“- and just as passionate about the things and people she cares about.” Gina softly patted his cheek, “I’m so glad I got to see you again and I’m proud to see how you turned out.”

Marinette noted how he visibly tensed before he shook his head, “Nothing to really be proud of, Gina. I’m just glad I lived long enough to see you again. I never really forgot about you either. I mean, how often do you meet an old French grandma who rides motorcycles and travels the world?”

Both Gina and Marinette laughed at that comment. Marinette couldn’t help but be curious about what could’ve possibly taken Jason away from her grandma. She’s sure it has to do with Batman and Gotham, but she knew Red Hood didn’t exist 10 years ago either. She briefly wondered what could’ve been if he just stayed. Maybe he could’ve helped her with being Ladybug.

“Hey, Marinette?” She brought her attention back to the conversation and watched Jason as he tried to tread carefully into a new conversation. She didn’t have a good feeling about this, “Can I ask about Damian?”

Marinette didn’t know if it was the ice cream, the company, or the fact that she’s off the ship, but this was the first time she didn’t feel like avoiding this conversation. She remembered what Tess said about talking to someone else and she trusted her grandmother. After thinking about it, she trusted Jason too. “You’re going to tell Dick and Tim, aren’t you?”

“No!” Marinette quirked her brow and he just shrugged, “We’re brothers, what do you expect?”

She sighed but nodded. It was odd. She still felt uncomfortable, but the emotions were underwhelming compared to last night with Nino. She gulped, “Damian told me about a bad thing he did. I wasn’t expecting to hear that from him, so I was a bit shocked. The Akuma attack made me realize something though. He didn’t ask or choose to be a part of those bad things. He was raised and convinced to do it. It reminded me of Hawkmoth in a way since he makes good people do bad things too. I figured since he took himself out of that situation and he was being a good person maybe I could stay.”

She looked down at the table and frowned, “After this week, I realized I didn’t want to lose him either. We connect really well, we can read each other pretty well, and I trust him. He saw right through me whenever I lied to him. He knows something about me that only two other people knew and he just accepted it. I wanted to do that same for him. I wanted to stay with him.”

Gina tilted her head and analyzed Marinette’s expression, “You really like him. You never talked about Adrien like that.”

Marinette nodded, “Yeah. I do.” She scoffed and felt her eyes water, “With Adrien, I could barely hold a conversation and I was always on edge. With Damian, I don’t even have to try. It was so easy to just…” Her sentence trailed off and she bit her lip.

Jason motioned for her to continue and she sighed, “Grandma, I love him. I never felt like this around another person. I don’t know what else it could be.” Jason’s eyebrows shot up meanwhile Gina just smiled. Marinette wiped her eyes and laughed, “It’s scary how easy it was. I mean, I fell for Adrien pretty quick, but that hardly went anywhere. With Damian, I was just comfortable. I didn’t even think about until after we came back from our first visit to Santander.”

Gina hummed, “You know, you remind me so much of your father.”

Marinette quirked her brow, “Thank you?”

“No, no, I’m serious. Do you think your mother was the first girl your father cared about? No. He cared about a few girls, and he thought he loved them too, but it wasn’t until he met your mother that I ever really saw him connect with someone.” She pointed at Marinette, “He had that same look in his eyes too.”

Jason grinned, “You should’ve seen them that first week. They got into an argument then too, but they acted like an old married couple.” Marinette winced, “Sorry.”

Marinette waved her hand, “You’re fine. You’re right anyway.” She thought about that night in the den. She remembered how awkward he looked when he took the chance to say, “I thought we were already married.” She wished she could go back to that moment. Sure they were confused and they didn’t know everything about each other, but at least they had each other. That led her to the dance, which led her to the fight, which led her to Adrien. She brought one of her legs up and rested her chin on her knee, “I messed up.”

“How so?”

“You remember that secret I talked about? It involved Adrien, but Damian didn’t know that. He forced it out of me and I didn’t tell Adrien Damian knew so then Adrien got mad. Adrien started yelling, I started yelling, we all got into one big fight.” She groaned, “Now Adrien hates me and I can’t even look at Damian without wanting to freak out and now I’m a mess and now everything’s a disaster!” She knocked her forehead on her knee, “I’m so stupid.”

“Hey! Hey! Out of the three of us here, the stupid one is Jason.”

Jason opened his mouth to argue, but he just nodded, “Fair.” Marinette snorted and Jason simply looked at her with pity, “She’s right, though.”

“Right about you being stupid?”

“Right about you two making a real connection. I didn’t know you before, but I know Damian.” Before continuing, Jason leaned back and asked, “Wait, are you okay with this?” Marinette blinked and realized what he meant as the question “Do you want to talk about him?” is left unsaid. Marinette pauses for a moment and thought about it. Did she want to know more?

When her mind wandered to him, there was a mix of emotions that came with it. Though dulled, she was still mad and frustrated at him for not leaving the room. Yet, she wished she could go back a few days. She missed their banter and their talks with Captain Staller. She missed their dance battles as she got ever closer to beating his high score on ‘Crazee Boi’. She missed the small touches they shared as they walked together through the ship and through the different cities. Most of all, she missed how at ease she felt when she was with him. She didn’t need to act perfect or okay around him, he’s witnessed the worst parts about her and he didn’t even give them a second thought. He was the first one to really see her for who she was; a girl three steps away from burning out due to her crazy life. He didn’t scold her for her choices or try to talk her out of it, he related to her and did his best to give her a break. Damian was the best part of this whole vacation.

She nodded and Jason continued, “I’ve never seen him warm up to anyone the way he did with you. Damian doesn’t just talk to anyone the same way he does with you. He doesn’t let anyone just win an argument or fix his clothes and hair. He doesn’t just tell anyone about his past or his secrets. And Damian would never just fall asleep next to someone he didn’t know and trust for a while.” She listened intently as Jason leaned onto the table and rested his chin in his hand, “You were the first normal person his own age that he could just be himself around. He didn’t have to be on guard. He didn’t have to be ready to fight you. He didn’t have to put up a front around you.”

He sighed and looked Marinette right in her eye, “Marinette, you brought out the best in Damian. He was getting really tired and burnt-out from everything we do back home. I know you know this already, but he’s never been a kid. He’s never had friends his own age that were normal like this.” Jason smiled at Marinette and he leaned in close, “I’m going to get really cheesy right now, but I need you to get it. This never leaves this table okay? If it does, I’ll know it was you and I’ll make you pay for it.” Marinette rolled her eyes, but she still nodded. Jason, satisfied with their pact, grabbed her hand, “He’s never had the chance to fall in love with anyone, but he almost instantly fell for you.”

Marinette’s mind fizzed out at the sentence, yet before she could respond Jason’s phone started ringing. Jason pulled away and excused himself from the table to answer. Gina moved to sit by Marinette’s side and rubbed her back, “How are you feeling?”

“I- I really don’t know.” Marinette pressed her lips together in a firm line, “Grandma, what am I gonna do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dick, calm down. Seriously, I can’t understand you when you get like this.” The two looked up at Jason and he licked his lips, “Okay, who cares if he’s on the ship?”

Marinette got up and walked over, “What’s going on? Who’s on the ship?”

Jason huffed and nodded, “Yeah that was Marinette.” There was a pause and Jason shoved the phone into Marinette’s face, “Dick wants to talk to you.”

Marinette looked confused as she held the phone to her ear, “Hello?”

“Marinette?”

“Yeah?”                  

“Okay, look, I need you to get back here soon. No one else is around. Nino, Alya, and Chloe are all in their groups in the city and you guys are the closest to the ship.”

“What? Why? What’s going on?”

“Tim and Damian are arguing with Adrien’s dad.”

Marinette blinked and shook her head, “What?”

“Adrien’s dad. He’s on the ship. I don’t know what happened, but Damian found them arguing and then jumped in and everyone’s yelling. I’ve tried to step in but when they get like this they won’t back down.”

She could hear some muffled voices in the background and asked, “Why is he on the ship?”

“I don’t know.”

She gulped and took a deep breath, “Can I talk to Adrien?”

“Give me a second.”

There were a few moments of shuffling before she heard a very tired, “Hello?”

“Adrien?”

She could practically see Adrien tense up in her mind, “Marinette?”

“What’s happening? What does your dad want? Why is he on the ship?”

Adrien sighed, “He wants to take me home.”

“What?”

Adrien winced at her shrill voice, “He wants to take me home early.”

“Why?”

Adrien looked over at his father and Nathalie having a heated conversation with the two youngest Wayne sons, “Marinette, can you please calm them down?”

“Calm who down?”

“Tim and Damian. They really aren’t helping and Dick can’t seem to get them to calm down either. If I’m being honest, he looks like he’s two minutes away from jumping in himself.”

He could hear keys jingling and some shuffling on the other end of the line, “I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Don’t go anywhere, don’t pack anything, have Plagg fly away with the card to the room if you have to.”

Adrien frowned as he watched his father get more and more agitated, “Just hurry.” He pressed the end call button and handed it to Dick before jumping back in. “Father, maybe we should-”

“Adrien, you are to do as your father says.”

“The hell he is, he’s not a puppet. He’s a person who has choices.” Tim’s eye twitched and he pinched his nose, “Look, I understand you’re the parent, but your son has been having a good time on this ship and to take him away early before the whole is over seems like a waste.”

“A good time? From what I’ve gathered, that’s far from the truth.” Gabriel narrowed his eyes at Adrien, “Don’t lie to me. You’re better than that.”

Damian crossed his arms, “And where, pray tell, are you getting this information?”

Nathalie stepped in front of Gabriel, “That is none of your concern.”

“Everything on this ship is our concern. From the passengers to the integrity of the ship itself will concern us.”

Gabriel straightened his back and held his ground, “I didn’t come here to be talked down to by a bunch of children.”

“Then expect to be talked down to by fellow businessmen.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Adrien took a deep breath before motioning to Damian and Tim, “Father, this is Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, and Damian Wayne. They are three of the four sons of Bruce Wayne.”

If Gabriel was at all phased by this information, his body language gave nothing away. He simply raised his brow and said, “Interesting.”

That seemed to just irritate the youngest more, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s interesting that Bruce Wayne lets his sons run around so carelessly.”

Adrien flinched and looked to the three brothers. This comment seemed to be the one to finally flip a switch inside Dick because he tensed up before glaring at Gabriel. “I find it interesting that you treat your perfectly mannered son like a juvenile delinquent. All that’s missing is bars over his windows and an ankle bracelet to ensure house arrest.”

“How I raise my son is none of your concern.”

“And like I said before, everything on this ship concerns us.” He could tell the frustration in the room was threatening to overflow. Adrien felt like he was watching a bottle of soda being shaken until it explodes; he didn’t when it was going to happen but at this rate an explosion is inevitable. “Look, this is getting us nowhere.”

Nathalie nodded, “Agreed, so if you would be so kind as to stand-down this process will go so much easier.” The subtle emphasis on ‘stand-down’ made Tim growl.

Tim coughed and reeled himself in before looking at his brothers. They all seemed to take a deep breath and suddenly it was like Adrien was facing three different versions of Bruce, both in and out of the suit. Dick looked the most at ease, but that was only in comparison to the other two. Dick looked like he was preparing to negotiate. Tim took a step back and seemed ready to analyze the situation, considering how he was as a person this made sense while he was trying to think of a game plan. Damian was the most frightening out of the three. Adrien was reminded of a few clips of Batman Alya showed him earlier this week, but more aggressive. Damian was playing offense and if that was the case Adrien just knew he was going to have to do a lot of damage control.

Damian spoke first and in a matter-of-fact tone said, “Let’s start this again. Gabriel Agreste, head of the Gabriel brand, husband of the late Emilie and father to Adrien. You were also ‘The Collector’ when you were akumatized some time back and you are known to make very rare in-person appearances. You are very adept at designing, business management, piano playing, speaking Japanese, and you have a history of fencing.”

Both Gabriel and Nathalie blinked and their stern exterior seemed to crack for a moment. However, Damian simply continued, “As your son stated before, we are three of Bruce Wayne’s sons. That is Richard Grayson, also known as Dick. He’s the eldest, a skilled acrobat and aerialist, great leadership skills and communication skills, and the one to talk to for an easy route.” Adrien expected some kind of scoff or come back to that comment, but Dick didn’t even blink.

“Timothy Drake, most refer to him as Tim. Incredibly intelligent, very skilled with most technology, also exceptional leadership and communication skills. He annoyingly, but accurately refers to himself as ‘boy genius’. He is the second easiest.” Tim quirked his brow and briefly looked at Damian before turning his attention back to Gabriel and Nathalie.

“The second eldest is not here, but his name is Jason Todd. Good at technology and has an affinity for weapons, specifically any and all guns. Incredible marksman. Not always the best at communication, but will fiercely protect those he cares about. He would be hard, but he isn’t an option right now.”

Damian placed a hand over his chest and his tone held a very distinct hint of a patronizing tone, “I am Damian Wayne. Youngest and only blood son of the four. I am a skilled swordsman, skilled fighter, expert with technology and weapons alike, and also the hardest of the four.” Damian stepped towards Gabriel and, despite the height difference, seemed to look down on him. “No matter who you talk to or try to negotiate with, I swear to you that you will lose. Adrien will stay on this trip until its final stop. Most importantly, he will receive the freedom and respect he deserves that he clearly isn’t getting from you.”

“How dare-”

“I would watch that temper, Agreste. Not only are Akuma running amok throughout the coastline, but there are cameras throughout the ship. Lose your temper here, yell at some children, whatever you do will be stored, shared, and exposed to the media at large.” Gabriel growled but stepped back. While Damian’s expression didn’t change, his eyes held a glint of sadistic amusement. It was like watching an owl wound their prey, but not catch it right away. Simply watching it squirm and make a feeble attempt to escape knowing very well that the shadow overhead will continue following them. This was their playing field, their rules, and Gabriel had to follow them. It was the first time Adrien saw someone talk to and bring down his father like this. He didn’t know whether to be shocked, amused, pity, or all three.

Gabriel glared at Adrien before turning away, “Adrien, I expect you to be packed and ready to go by the time this ship is ready to leave port. We’re leaving tonight.”

“We’ll see.”

Nathalie opened her mouth to respond, but Gabriel held his hand up and shook his head. The two simply left the room and it wasn’t until their footsteps faded away that anyone moved. Adrien could feel himself begin to breathe again, taking in deep breaths but they had no effect. Tim immediately walked over and snapped his fingers in his face, making Adrien look up at him. “Adrien, focus on me. Take deep breaths in and out. Four counts in, four counts hold, four counts out.” Adrien watched as Tim demonstrated and did his best to follow along. After a few minutes, the overwhelming feeling of dread stated to pass and he was just left feeling tired. “Good work.”

Adrien simply nodded and let out a weak laugh as he continued the deep breathing. Tim sent back a weak smile before looking over his shoulder. He saw his two brothers discussing something, no doubt their next step. Tim was genuinely shocked and enraged with how badly Gabriel treated Adrien. Did he curse or yell at him? No, but he treated Adrien like property and acted as if he was always doing something wrong. If he acted like Jason maybe he could see some of that behavior as being warranted, but Adrien was, by all definitions, an incredible son. Athletic, intelligent, well mannered, good heart, what more could Gabriel be possibly asking for?

Watching the anxiety practically seep through Adrien pores, he realized Gabriel was asking for a perfect model. Obedient, quiet, well built and well-mannered for good publicity, but only shown through a tightly locked frame. Never to be physically touched without proper certification, never to be altered except by those he deemed worthy to do so, and always held at arm’s length to avoid damaging goods. More orders than praises unless he does exactly as expected, but that is too far and too few in between. Most importantly, making Adrien feel necessary when, in reality, he’s being used for something superficial.

It was disgusting. Tim really hoped there were some good points to Gabriel’s character. Adrien would undoubtedly defend this man, so something had to be worth all of this. At least, that’s what Tim told himself to avoid throwing punches.

Dick walked over and rubbed Adrien’s back, “You doing okay?”

“Maybe, not sure yet.” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair and laughed, “I’ve never seen that before.”

“Seen what?”

“Seen that! Him being talked to like that! He actually stood down! I mean, Chloe’s mom kind of does that, but what you did was a whole new level!” He laughed, bleeding into the hysterical, and leans against Dick for support. He tried to hold it in, but that made him laugh more, “Oh my god, what’s happening to me?”

Dick chuckled, “Well, you just went through something super stressful and you’re still here on the ship. I’d say you’re on a high right now, but when you crash you’ll probably want a nap.”

Adrien took a few more deep breaths, “Okay. Okay, I think I’m okay. Dick, you should probably call Marinette before she tries to kill my dad.”

Dick paled, “Oh my god, she’s with Jason. If she doesn’t he sure as hell will.” He cursed to himself as he quickly turning away and dialing.

Adrien looked over at the last of the three Wayne boys, he noticed him standing further away and trying to avoid looking in Adrien’s general direction. Tim saw this and quietly said, “Hey, it’s fine if you’re still upset with him. Just because he helped doesn’t mean you guys are okay. You guys need to work this out together, but considering he just fought to keep you on the ship I’d say you have a good shot at making up.” Adrien’s shoulders fell and Tim shrugged, “Only if you want to.”

Adrien glared at the ground and sighed before calling out, “Damian?” Damian tensed and looked up at the blond. Adrien shuffled his feet before saying, “Thank you. For this.”

Damian relaxed a bit, “Don’t thank me yet, we have to make sure you stay on this ship.”

Adrien nodded and Tim simply smiled at him, “That’s a start.”

Dick walked back over and groaned, “Okay, that crisis is most likely averted.”

“Most likely?”

“Those two can be loose cannons when it comes to people they care about, can you really say with 100% certainty that neither will try something?” All three thought for a moment before shaking their heads and responding ‘no’. “Exactly. Look, Adrien, do you want to stay on this ship?”

“Yes! Yes, I do.”

“Then forget whatever your dad says. At least one of use will be with you if he tries anything. You are going to have the last of this vacation. After meeting your dad, you need it.”

Adrien smiled, “Thanks. Seriously, I’d already be on a plane to Paris right now if I was alone.”

Tim stretched and yawned, “Before we go for a round two, I say we get coffee and tell Bruce. I really want to see him rip that man a new one.”

Adrien flinched, “Maybe, not that harshly. I know he’s strict-”

“Strict?” Damian scoffed, “He reminded me of some of the trainers back before I met Bruce. They were just as cutthroat, but Gabriel is smart enough to hide and use it to his advantage. Lucky for you, you’ve got the best people on this ship to counteract that and not be intimidated by it either.”

Adrien frowned, “He’s my father-”

“The ‘father’ title doesn’t mean anything if he can’t act like a dad.” Both Damian and Dick snapped their heads to Tim and he finally seemed to realize how harsh that probably sounded. “Oh – Adrien, I didn’t mean to-”

“You did. That’s fine, I’ve heard worse come from Chloe.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled, “Let’s keep all of this from Marinette, Jason, and the others. They already don’t like him. I think hearing about this conversation would just add fuel to the fire.”

“You know if they find out we’re holding back, they’ll be even more pissed.”

Adrien’s eyes met Damian’s for a brief moment before both turned away from each other, “I know.”

Dick looked at Tim, but Tim simply shook his head. He mouthed, ‘Not now.’ Dick was even more confused, but hopefully Tim had some answers to his questions. Speaking of questions, Dick turned to Damian and asked, “Hey, did you mean all of that by the way?”

Damian’s eye twitched, “Mean what?”

Dick smiled, “Oh you know, ‘these are my two incredible brothers. Like, the best brothers I could ever have. Especially the oldest, Di-”

Damian growled and lunged at Dick, “You’re so full of it!”

Dick manipulated the move and managed to get Damian into an awkward side hug, “So, you finally admit we’re great to have around?”

“I’ll admit that you guys give me more grey hairs than all the villains in Arkham.”

Dick snickered, “You hear that Tim, Damian loves us!”

“You are actually going to get your tongue ripped out if you don’t shut up!”

Tim sighed in relief and chuckled, “I’m actually really glad.”

Adrien asked, “Why’s that?”

“Because what we’re watching right now is the real, true Damian Wayne. He’s always annoyed, gives backhanded compliments, ruthless, but just as socially awkward that it borders cute.”

“I swear to god Grayson, I will shove one of your batons so far down your throat that it’ll come out your-”

“Very, very, loosely borders.” Tim went over and pushed the two away from each other before roughly patting Damian’s back, “Good to have you back.”

Damian glared, but there wasn’t much hostility behind it. He knew they were worried but, if he was honest, he just didn’t know how to react. He was already going into entirely new territory when getting into a relationship, the messy break up made things ten times worse. It helped to let out some steam at Adrien’s sorry excuse for a father, but he could feel those bad feelings threatening to come back up. He hopes they were smart enough not to ask.

He pushed Tim away, “Shut up. Let’s just go talk to Father and keep Adrien on this ship. If we’re lucky, we could probably convince him to take Adrien in. God knows he has a habit of keeping athletic kids with sad backstories.”

“Hey!” Adrien was going to continue to defend himself when all three brothers turned and gave him a bored look. He scrunched up his nose and sighed, “Yeah, okay, let’s go find your dad.” Tim sent him a look of amused pity and walked over, “Can I just get some iced tea?”

“You can get whatever you want. If this goes over well, you’ll be able to help run this ship.” Adrien’s pout made him laugh as he started to walk themselves out.

Damian was ready to follow them when Dick grabbed the back of his collar and pulled back, “Hey!”

“We’ll catch up with you in a second.” Tim nodded and closed the door behind him.

“What the hell was that about?”

“So now that you’re talking, do you want to talk abou-”

“Dick.”

“Yeah?”

Damian crossed his arms, “Thanks for worrying about me, but if you ask me about it I will just go back to not talking. Just drop it and let’s focus on keeping Adrien on board.”

“Damian, I’ve seen you mad, sad, happy, murderous, and literally every emotion. I’ve never seen you this tired and now you are actually scaring me with the silent treatment. I have half a mind to get Jon involved.”

“Do that and I will make sure you and Kory never have kids.”

Dick rolled his eyes, “But you see why we’re so desperate to know, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So? Can you give me anything? Literally, if you talk to any of us about this we can help. We’ve all had girl problems-”

“That’s an understatement.”

“My point is that we can talk about it. Maybe give some advice? You can let us in.”

Damian shook his head, “It’s not that I don’t necessarily trust you-”

“Then what is it?”

“I can’t tell you, okay!” Damian’s raised voice didn’t catch him off guard as much as the message did.

“Can’t tell me? What are you talking about?” Damian took in a sharp breath before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he exhaled, he opened his eyes and Dick noticed he retreated into whatever void he was barricading himself in. Dick grabbed him by the shoulders, “Oh come on! Damian, you cannot do this! We were just getting somewhere! Damian!” Dick growled when Damian gave him no response other than stepping away and walking towards the door. “Damian, no! You can talk to me! Me! Dick! Your older brother, the one you can depend on, the one who – The one who really cares about how you’re doing.”

Damian paused and Dick continued, “Damian, we’ve been through a lot together. You can tell me pretty much anything and I’m going to help you through it. You know that! Just work with me here. Let me help!”

Damian sighed and turned back to face Dick, “You’re annoying.”

“I’m your brother. That’s kind of my job.”

Damian’s shoulders fell and shook his head, “Dick, know that this isn’t personal.” It wasn’t, it just felt wrong. He was already set on keeping her secret identity under wraps before she even suspected his, but afterward? The only reason any of Marinette’s friends knew was because they figured it out on their own. She would’ve taken it to the grave and he respected that. It honestly surprised him. “I just can’t tell you right now. If you want to know, just ask Marinette about it. That’s her secret to tell or not.”

Dick’s eyebrows shot up, “You do realize I’m just getting more concerned now, right? You literally compiled information on her that we all have access to. If it’s not in there, then what the hell is she hiding?”

“Something personal and something I probably shouldn’t have found out. If you guys look into it, I swear I will hurt all of you. I shouldn’t know and, quite frankly, I wouldn’t be in this situation if I didn’t.” Damian knew Dick would be looking into it if they haven’t already started, but if they were going to uncover that information he was not going to be any part of it. “Dick, promise me something.”

“Depends on the something.”

“Look into Lila. She’s has been acting suspiciously recently. I noticed something recently over the cameras and I think she’s up to something. I want you to talk to the other kids about it.”

Dick wasn’t expecting that, “How has she been acting?”

“She’s been talking to guests and wandering around every night. She avoids staff who know us like Tess and then will stay in her room for long periods of time on days things aren’t planned or scheduled unless one of the classmates goes and gets her first. For someone fighting to be queen bee of the school, isolating yourself and speaking to people outside the group you’re trying to win over seems like a waste of time.” Not entirely the truth, but Damian wanted to look more into it before assuming anything.

Dick hummed, “Yeah, okay, that’s weird. Is there a pattern to the people she talks to?”

“Not really.”

“Okay, so there isn’t a pattern and we know that she’s smart enough not to do stupid things like this.”

Damian snapped, “Unless gaining control of the class isn’t her goal anymore. She said that earlier too when we first met her in the gym after she took those photos. She said Adrien wasn’t even third place, I thought that meant she wasn’t looking to take Adrien anymore. What if she just switched up everything?”

“If that’s the case, then what’s her new goal? What does she want? She’s just a teenager.”

“You should probably ask Marinette about it. In the meantime, I’m going to go talk to Max.”

“Max?”

“Yeah, Max. He seems to have taken a liking to the computer room, Father finds him there often with his robot. I’ve been having them look over the footage just to see if they notice anything.”

“Wait, so he knows about Lila being a complete psycho?”

“He will now.”

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, “You do realize that the last time we just sprang that information on someone there was a huge argument?”

“You also realize that Tim did it out of spite towards Alya and scolded our whole friend group for not realizing it sooner, right? I’m just telling Max to watch over the tapes. If he figures something out then that’s all on him.”

“Touché.” Damian was about to turn away before Dick shouted, “Wait! Damian, you know you can trust me, right?”

“Yes, Dick.”

“Okay, just making sure.” Damian nodded before finally leaving. Dick stood there alone for a bit while he gathered his thoughts. He started talking to himself, “Okay, recap. Your brother is going through a bad break up, one of your friends is threatened to be kidnapped by his own crappy father, and now the mean girl might not just be a mean girl. Great. Totally have this in order.” Dick nodded, “Yeah, okay. It’s all coming together.”

“What’s coming together?” Dick jumped and turned to see Damian walk back in, “What? I forgot my phone.”

“You’re too good at that!”

“At what?”

“Sneaking up on people!”

Damian blinked before asking, “You were doing that weird thinking out loud thing again, weren’t you?”

“I’m trying to prioritize.”

“Then let me help you.” He looked around before grabbing his phone off a table and typing in something. Soon a notification went off on Dick’s phone and he pulled it out. It read, ‘1) Lila. 2) Akumas. 3) Leaving me the hell alone.’

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“I’m hilarious.”

“You’re stressful.”

Damian shrugged, “I’m your brother. That’s kind of my job.” Dick narrowed his eyes at Damian only to be sent a smirk.

“You know something?”

“What?”

“When we first got on this ship, this is what we were aiming for.” He motioned to Damian’s entire body, “This. Getting you back to acting like yourself.”

“And?”

“I’m surprised to see that even when she’s not around she still helped.”

“How do you know it’s her? Maybe I’m just feeling better.”

“Maybe, but if she wasn’t on this boat could you honestly say you would’ve actually socialized with the class that won?” His lack of an answer was telling, “Even if you don’t get back together, try to just leave on a better note. Leaving things unsaid always ends up in a bad time.”

“I know. I think we’ve all figured that out in one way or another.”

“Good. Tell me when you’re ready to talk. We’ll all help out or give advice.”

“To be fair, most of you guys don’t have the best track record.”

“At least talk to me then? Out of all of us, I probably have the best track record.”

“True.”

“Well?”

Damian paused before saying, “I’ll think about it. Just focus on Lila and Adrien for now, though.”

Dick smiled and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Got it.” Damian held the door open and tilted his head, telling Dick to head out. Both went their separate ways down the hallways as they tried to follow they’re various missions. Dick went to catch up with Tim while Damian continued to move below deck to talk to Max.

It was weird to talk to Adrien again, but it was almost disappointing. He was so caught up in keeping Adrien on the ship that he forgot that Adrien probably didn’t want to see him either. He couldn’t help it though, something about Gabriel irritated him. The more Gabriel talked the more Damian wanted to punch him square in the face. When Gabriel began talking down to him, it brought Damian back to the first few months of living with Bruce in the manor and how he would often get scolded for his behavior. However, Damian had enough of a backbone to both take the lessons but fight against the aggression. Adrien clearly didn’t have that, at least not as himself. He’d need to look at more footage of Cat Noir to understand his behavior more.

He knew Adrien would probably be punished once back to Paris, but he figured something like that would happen with or without their intervention. For now, he was going to allow Adrien the opportunity to spend the final week free form his prison back home.

Damian supposed that was a good parallel between the two; both hated being locked up in cages. Cat or bird, both needed the freedom to strut around and live a little. Both of their worlds barred them from really allowing them to be themselves. Damian was given the opportunity to do so, despite it not going exactly as planned he still would look back on this trip fondly. He wanted to give the same to Adrien, if not as an apology then just as someone who understands what it’s like growing up with the expectation of perfection. Damian just hoped Adrien would have the courage to take advantage of it.

If not for himself, then for the people of Paris. A heartbroken and depressed Cat Noir would be of no use to Paris or Ladybug. Damian was avoiding a possible liability, but he was still avoiding her. Opening the door to the main computer hub, he was surprised when Markov immediately started pulling on his collar, “We have a feeling you might want to take a look at this.”

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

Question: Should I start posting my Maribat Hunger Games AU on Tumblr as well? 

Let me know alongside thoughts on the chapter! 

Thank you for being patient and enjoying the lastest chapter of Seabourne Burnouts! 

Tag List (Bitch I have a tag list whAT!?!?!):

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Let me know if I missed anyone and message me! I’ll be sure to see it then!

[taylor-on-fire]

Cigarettes and Alcohol (one)

She was told to never get involved with three things; Cigarettes, Alcohol and Rock Stars.

Obviously, something fate never intended for her to live by.

Pairing: ? x Reader

Series Rating: Mature

Chapter Rating: Teen

Chapter Warnings: Swearing

~/-*•|•*-\~

The remainder of the summer had disappeared within the blink of an eye. If unpacking the rest of my belongings and furnishing the flat hadn't consumed the vast majority of my free time, my newly accumulated job had.

I had walked into Regency Cafe on my third day in London, resume in hand and extraordinarily low expectations. It was stationed five streets away from my flat, and a hub that I had scoped out soon after arriving. Because of this, I assumed that it was too good to be true, and being as popular as it was, would have copious amounts of workers and applicants alike. But, I had seemingly hit the jackpot that day. As soon as I walked into the cafe and spotted the only waitress behind the counter - a gray-haired, flustered woman in her late fifties - and mentioned the ‘Help Wanted’ sign stuck on the glass window.

‘You here for the job, Honey?’ I nodded, and she immediately thew an apron my way and hustled back to the till.

“Rose.” The woman nodded to me and slid over a tray. “That’s for table 7.”

“Y/N. Great to meet you, Rose.” I threw a tea towel over my shoulder, smiled, and picked up the tray to serve.

-

Ever since then, I had been working ten hour shifts at the Cafe. The crowds only  ever thinned out at around the three ‘o’clock mark, when it was too late to be considered lunch, and too early to be considered tea. But, even then, there was never a moment to take a breather, let alone have a smoke. I wouldn't complain though - It kept my days occupied and helped me save extra money for when the next semester started. And Rose was lovely. 

After we had locked up the cafe that first night - a pretty successful day as per usual - We had gotten talking about everything and anything over a cup of Coffee. Rose’s other two waitresses had called in sick, and with no available family to help, she was forced to fight the rush head on. Obviously that's where I came in. 

Coffee after lock-up had become some sort of ritual after I was hired, and after the hour or so chatting with the grandmother I never had over pastries, I would walk to my flat and go straight to bed. I rarely went back out once I got home, and thus hadn't scoped the area as much as I usually would. I mean, I knew of a few pubs and student clubs nearer to the university campus, and a few clothing stores, but London was huge. It would take longer than a night to discover all there was to see.

Undoubtedly, now I’d have less time to dedicate to finding the hot-spots of the city. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was awake again - Pulling on jeans and a plaid jacket haphazardly. Apparently snoozing an alarm clock six or so times eventually added up to an hour. So, now I was 65 minutes behind schedule, and would be inevitably late to the first lecture of my first semester at Uni. 

Way to make an impression, Y/N.

I checked the clock again, simultaneously buckling my sandals, and true to the time, I had 40 minutes to complete a half an hour bus ride and trek to the other side of the campus. 

Luckily, Imperial was by far the closest Uni in the area. God forbid i had applied to another college instead - I would hands down, never make it to the campus on time. Being rejected fro the course for numerous lates wouldn't come as a shock to say the least.

I made my way outside and lit up a smoke, securing my bag on my shoulder and making my way towards the near-empty bus stop. It was fairly cold outside, despite it not being too early. It was the middle of September although, and despite the summer feeling very recent, it was slowly fading out into a chilly autumn.

However, I wasn't exposed to the British temperatures for too long, as in a few minutes, I was seated at the back of the bus, willing it to go quicker to ensure that I wouldn't be late to class.

-

I had constructed a whole plan on how my mornings would go from now on, and sorted a precise routine to avoid this one situation. I didn't imagine it being disregarded so early into the school year. Yet, I was notorious for being late back home, despite my best efforts. It was evidently not a good trait.

As I hurried across the campus, barely navigating the way from memory and already five minutes late, I hoped that this wasn't an omen for what my life would be like here. 

The corridors were quiet, a few groups of people scattered around - obviously early and awaiting their first lecture - and all of their faces blending into one. I paid no heed due to the sheer rush I was attempting to downplay in the presence of other students.

The lecture hall seemed abnormally distant. But, as this thought flashed through my brain, a large notice on the wall displayed the word I was desperately searching for in black, block letters. I heaved a sigh of relief and searched for the class number. 

EB1.1...EB1.3...EB1.7...EB1.15

Seeing that I had arrived at my designated room, I paused momentarily, glancing down to check my wrist watch. Fifteen minutes late. Fifteen used to be my lucky number, but after this, I'm not too sure. I turned to walk towards the door, not looking up, and immediately came into contact with something solid.

Before I could comprehend what was happening and steady myself, I was falling backwards, the notes in my hand and bag falling everywhere. 

“Im sorry! Im so, sorry. I completely missed you there! I was just late and...” A boys flustered voice cut me from my internal monologue of how great the day was turning out to be. He immediately dropped to his knees to collect up the newly created mess, whilst simultaneously glancing back towards me. Presumably to see if I was fatally injured.

“Its fine. Im sorry. It was probably my fault.” I laughed, moving to my knees and picking up a pile of notes scattered to the left of me. “I have a terrible habit of being late to everything.”

“I should have seen you though. Are you okay? Not hurt are you?”

“I’m completely fine. despite my pride, obviously. Are you okay? I completely barrelled into you.”

We both continued to pick up the notes scattered around the corridor together, and finished rearranging ourselves in seconds flat. The man quickly stood up, holding out his free hand to me, which I grasped firmly. I let go, and he clutched his notes, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a red blush overtaking his features.

“I’m completely okay. I must apologise again.” he spoke, still anxiously rubbing his neck. A small smile was playing on his red features.

I paused for a second and adjusted the strap on my bag.

“You said you were late to class. Whats your major?” I questioned, not much left to lose considering over a third of the first lecture was over. I looked towards the class door, knowing that I was obviously more than a quarter hour late now. This couldn't be good.

“Engineering. Electrical, more specifically. But Engineering is apparently just one big degree here.”

“Im majoring in that too. But, I prefer the Aerospace branch.”

The man smiled at that, before adjusting his shirt collar and swinging the strap of his bag over his shoulder..

“I have a friend that would love that. An Astrophysics Major.” He turned and pointed to the room EB1.15. “I guess we're headed to the same place, then?”

I nodded, smiling back.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I raised my right hand out to the boy.

“John Deacon. Lovely to meet you.” He grasped my hand, and we shook, before splitting and turning to enter the classroom. John took the lead, entering the class before me, and holding the door open for me to enter too.

I guess chivalry isn't dead.

We both stood there momentarily, well aware of thirty or so sets of eyes turning in our direction. Under any other positive circumstances, I wouldn't be fazed, but knowing that I was in the wrong and destined to be given fails for the next academic year - and in front of so many strangers - I was uncharacteristically nervous.

From the looks of it, John also wasn't one for being thrusted under the limelight. He shot me a short, wide-eyed look, before hesitantly making his way to the lecturers desk at the front centre of the hall. I trailed behind him, probably appearing like a lost puppy, but in reality, unsure what the protocol was for such a situation.

Do i just sit down and ignore the fact that I missed half of the lecture? Or apologise profusely? At this point I’m ready to just leave campus, drop the course and move back home. Although, nothing worse than moving home immediately comes to mind.

However, John quickly spoke, explaining the issues he faced with his travel this morning etcetera, etcetera, and luckily, he included me within this tale. Apparently, we had gotten scheduled 8:15 AM bus, and due to a road-traffic accident, we were diverted for over three quarters of an hour. Credit to him for elaborating so. I was almost convinced myself that I hadn't overslept this morning.

As he concluded his tale, John took a step backwards, next to me, and awaited a response. The lecturer nodded, a blank expression on his face. He waited a second before responding.

“Ive already assigned the Initial Assignment. I want a 2,000 word essay on your reasons behind choosing Engineering as your major, the branch you major in, and the gateways this degree opens for you. Any other details are on the board.” The man held his stoic expression, and we nodded back at him, awaiting a sign to take our seats. “Michael Ford.”

I muttered my name in response, as did John, as we turned to take the only two free seats at the back of the lecture hall. We were stopped abruptly.

“Next time, don't let your romantic life come in the way of your studies.”

I froze, unsure of what to reply, other than a quick nod. I went to hurry off once again, but glanced at John who was beet red -  even redder than before in the corridor -  a wide-eyed expression on his face. It took all I had in me to not burst out laughing. 

[toaarcan]

RvB 15-17 Condensed

The working title for this was “RvB 15-17 but not crap”.

Now, this might seem a little presumptuous to include Season 17 in this, which, at time of writing, has yet to be released, buuuut I’m basically mashing S15 and S16 into a single block which would make S17 actually the sixteenth season in this version. So the rewrite is that Season 17 happens a year earlier.

Now, I have my problems with RvB 15-16.

I don’t want to start off on such a negative tone, but I feel like I need to establish that before we go ahead.

While Season 15 was at worst, a mediocre RvB Season with tonal problems and inconsistent characterisation for our leads, Season 16 is all of those problems made worse. Like, it’s not Season 9 bad, but it’s still bad, and while I’ve mostly covered those issues in past posts, I haven’t really covered how much the setup for the climax is just plain stupid.

Like the setup for the finale, and thus Season 17, is as follows:

Atlus: Don’t do the thing.

Wash: Don’t do the thing.

Huggins: Don’t do the thing.

Carolina: ... Alright guys let’s do the thing.

[Time breaks because they did the thing]

It’s a little more complex than that, but not by much.

Now, I ummed and ahhhed over how to make this work for a while, but ultimately, I came to the conclusion that this is how I would do it.

For starters, 90% of Season 16’s plot is getting dumped. If not all of it. Legitimately all I’m keeping is the ending. Sorry, it’s not exactly a big loss.

Second off, I’m not heavily altering Season 15. While there’s definitely a good Season 5-13 tier plot that could be told with a fake BGC, this isn’t it, and attempting to alter that leads into a completely different set of stories. So Season 15 is mostly unchanged, just assume Temple is actually a competent villain and the plot isn’t driven entirely by the BGC being dumber than usual for a week.

So the timeline is now Season 15 -> Paradox -> Season 17.

We’re also scrubbing Wash’s injury from Season 15. It’s going to be an unnecessary complication for the lead-in to the next season anyway. If we’re going straight for the time paradox, then having Wash be injured is kinda pointless. Given that Season 16 ended on a warped Blood Gulch way before Wash ever showed up, there’s nothing to gain by having him out of action. He’s already imperilled enough by time being fucked.

“But wait,” I hear you say. “If Wash and Locus are with the heroes when they take on the Blues and Reds, surely they catch up to Temple quickly enough that the time machine doesn’t get turned on!”

Ah, but that’s the beauty of it. Whether the time machine is turned on or not is not the focus of the paradox here. And because that’s not a vital plot point, we’re free to have the characters just Travel At The Speed Of Plot, and arrive precisely in time for the actual climax.

You see, rather than changing history around Wash’s injury and thus fucking the timeline up, the key to the paradox is Church. Specifically, what happens when Church is removed from their history because someone pulled him into the present before the events of Blood Gulch really happened.

In the actual show, when Church appears in the portal, Tucker tells Caboose to pull him through, and Caboose refuses, instead bidding farewell to an extremely confused Alpha and allowing the portal to close. It’s a big moment for Caboose’s character, and it’s one of the parts of Season 15 which is pretty well-executed.

Obviously, I’m not going to overturn that and have him not have the growth. So, how does Church end up being pulled through?

“Tucker did it!”

Now, I’m not a big fan of Joe’s Tucker. In fact, that’s an understatement. I hate the way Joe writes Tucker, and I’d rather not fall into that same trap, so I’m going to explain in detail why Tucker would make this mistake.

 1) Tucker just had Epsilon die on him. Inside his head. And at the same time, the other remaining pieces of Epsilon all faded away too. And Tucker didn’t even notice it was happening, by the time he realised what was going in, the fragments were gone and he was left in a very empty and very non-functioning suit of power armour. Given how heavy this armour is, with it non-functioning, Tucker was probably unable to move until his friends removed most of the suit, so he was trapped in a coffin that was emptier than it should’ve been.

2) Struggling to cope with his grief, Tucker does something frankly stupid and activates the Temple of Procreation.

3) A while later, Tucker is starting to recover from his friend’s death, when Dylan shows up and he finds out in short order that A) Someone is committing terrorist acts while disguised as him and his friends, B) The planet he sacrificed so much, and Church gave his life for, is being blamed and might be invaded, and C) Church might be alive. This effectively halts Tucker’s recovery.

4) The consequences of his fuckup with the Temple of Procreation come back to haunt him, and suddenly, something Tucker has always been proud of- that he’s a great father to Junior- is called into question because he’s now an absentee dad to a fuckton of Chorus babies, which deals a blow to the poor man’s ego.

5) Shortly after that, the fiasco where Temple manages to manipulate him happens, and it makes things even worse for him. He should’ve seen through it after Felix, but he didn’t. And now, Wash and Carolina are hurt because of him, and the message from Church was a fake.

6) Finally, after all of this, he’s face to face with Church, and he has the chance to save him, and while maybe he could follow Caboose’s example… there’s one key problem. This isn’t Epsilon, it’s Alpha.

Y’see, there’s a big difference between those two. As has been pointed out before, Epsilon was always kind of a total prick to Tucker. A lot of this can be chalked up to Epsilon’s knowledge of the BGC coming entirely from Caboose, who purposefully left Tucker out of his recounts of their many adventures.

But this isn’t Epsilon. It’s Alpha. Tucker’s best friend, Alpha. Alpha, who went off and died without Tucker being there. Without Tucker ever getting a chance to see him once again. They got separated and one year later, Alpha died, in denial about a fact that Tucker had figured out long ago. Maybe Tucker could’ve helped save Alpha if he’d been there. Maybe Alpha wouldn’t have had to leave the safety of Wash’s suit and end up vulnerable to the emp if someone else had been there to hold the Meta’s attention.

 Tucker decides to save his friend. He’s at the end of his rope and after all the crap he’s been through on this journey, which he set out on because he wanted to save Church, he’s going to damn well save Church.

Additionally, by tying Tucker into the portal scene properly, there’s now a proper narrative throughline from the characters receiving Church’s message to the portal. Caboose has been covered, but Tucker hasn’t.

 Time paradox.

Despite his best intentions and hopefully understandable motives, Tucker has just pulled Alpha-Church out of their history before it even got started. And given how much of Seasons 1-13 was motivated by Church in some form or another… well, they’ve just unmade themselves.

The final twist is that time isn’t rewound to Season 1. We don’t need to see that. Season 1 retreads aren’t needed. If they want to remake Season 1, they should just bite the bullet and do a full remaster of the early Seasons to clean up the audio, rather than forcing new Seasons of the show to ape it.

Instead, we see a Blood Gulch wherein the same amount of time has passed since S1E01, but with none of the elements that Church brought in having happened.

Tex never goes to Blood Gulch. She spends her time hiding from Freelancer and desperately trying to find her other half, whom she was ripped away from and now will never be able to reunite with.

Tucker loses his friend, and is left with Caboose, who already doesn’t like him.

Caboose, for his part, doesn’t get brain damaged by Omega, but he still has his air shut off and Church still convinces him to drink Scorpion fuel, so he’s not doing much better.

Kai probably gets deployed to Blood Gulch faster, since Blue team is undermanned. She’s stuck in an empty box canyon with the rest of them.

York lives on, not getting recruited by Tex, until the Meta comes for him. The Meta takes Delta and leaves York to die alone.

Wyoming is not sent after Tucker, and doesn’t get the chance to formulate the plan with Omega.

Junior is never born.

Because Wyoming’s plan doesn’t happen, Wash is left to try and combat the Meta without the aid of the Reds and Blues. He fails.

The Meta remains free to hunt down and murder its former comrades. Like Tex, it ends up searching endlessly for the Alpha, which it will not find.

Without the Project’s downfall, and without Epsilon’s activation, Carolina remains in hiding.

The Director remains in hiding, endlessly repeating his attempts to perfect his remake of Allison. He never finds the answer.

Chorus is destroyed by perpetual civil war, all according to Hargrove’s design.

And as the galaxy darkens, people who would’ve been friends die or are left alone to rot, and the Project that put them there tears itself apart until only Tex, the Meta, Carolina, and the Director remain, scattered to the winds and pursuing impossible tasks, Blood Gulch remains. Its purpose is lost without Alpha, and the Project is gone, but with no new orders, VIC perpetuates the “war” between Red and Blue teams, and so it goes on. Static. Unchanging.

Cue the ending, and the setup for the next season. A Blood Gulch without Church.

[danfanciesphil]

Phan Teacher AU (Part 3)

(Part One)

(Part Two)

It’s Friday evening, finally, and Dan is in his kitchen making pasta, reflecting on the ups and downs of his first week in his new job. He stirs the penne in the saucepan, staring down into the bubbles.

The pasta does not, unsurprisingly, provide him with any insightful comments. 

Being a TA is not as bad as he thought it would be, he eventually concludes, considering everything that’s happened to him at the school so far. The children don’t tease him like he feared they would; mostly they barely even register his existence. The faculty, whilst occasionally irritating or dull, are just normal people for the most part. It’s obvious that none of them are living their dreams, but aside from making them a little snarky, that doesn’t seem to matter to them. 

None of this applies to Phil, of course. 

Dan stops stirring pasta, the tips of his fingers tingling as a wave of admiration sweeps through his body. Phil Lester is an unexpected, but very welcome, perk of this job. 

Dan had never even considered the idea that he might develop a crush when he accepted this position. Teaching has never appealed to him, so he has never found teachers attractive in the past. But, as he mentioned to Phil on his first day, Phil is not like any other teacher that Dan has ever met. 

He switches the hob off, and finds a colander in one of the cupboards. It’s not his, obviously. Dan would never be organised enough to buy a household item as obscure as a colander, but his housemates won’t mind. Probably. 

He drains his pasta, and scoops it into a bowl, then mixes it with some pesto. He adds some chopped cherry tomatoes and a sprinkle of cheese, then takes the bowl through to his bedroom. 

He’s glad he has the house to himself tonight. His roommates are out on a date together, being an excruciatingly cute couple, as always. 

He blames the exhaustion of first week in a full time job when he climbs onto his bed to eat, opening up his laptop. Facebook is open where he left it this morning, and out of nowhere, Dan gets an idea. 

He pauses mid-chew, wondering if it would be crossing a line. 

Then, before he can think his way out of it, he clicks the search bar and types ‘Phil Lester’. 

A hundred Phil’s pop up at once. Dan scrolls through them, peering at the tiny display pictures, searching for dazzling blue eyes and a mop of jet black hair. 

He’s about to give up, but then he sees it. As soon as he notices Phil’s photo, he wonders how he could have missed it amongst the sea of other Phil Lester imposters. 

He clicks the image, heart speeding up a little. Phil’s profile fills the screen, and Dan’s eyes widen, skimming over the scant information like he’s trying to soak it all up at once. 

Phil Lester  [Image]

Intro:

💼 History Teacher at Rawtenstall Secondary School 🎓 Studied History and Philosophy at University of York 🎓 Studied French History at Université Paris-Sorbonne  🏠 Lives in Rossendale, Lancashire, United Kingdom 🏠 Lived in Paris, France 🏠 Lived in York, UK 🏠 Lived in Manchester, UK 📍 From Rossendale  ❤️ Single

His eyes are drawn to the ‘relationship status’ part of his bio before he can stop them. Embarrassingly, he smiles into his pasta, as though it changed anything at all. 

His photo is the most distracting part of the whole page. Dan stares at it as he chews, taking advantage of the opportunity to study Phil’s immaculate face. There’s something different about the photo-Phil, Dan thinks, trying to work it out. Belatedly, he realises that he’s never seen Phil dressed in anything other than a shirt.

The Phil in this picture is wearing a t-shirt in vibrant blue, covered in rows of white stars. There’s a red hemline around the neck and short sleeves too. It looks a bit like he’s low-key cosplaying as Captain America on his off-day, but somehow it suits him. 

The picture-Phil is staring into the camera with that familiar intensity Dan recognises from the times he meets Phil’s gaze in real life. He’s smiling slightly, but it’s nothing compared to the way his beaming fills the classroom. 

He clicks the photo, unable to resist seeing Phil’s face larger on his screen. He really is rather unnervingly attractive, Dan thinks, staring unashamedly at the pixels doing their best to replicate the swirling galaxies of Phil’s blue eyes. 

He shovels more pasta into his mouth, sighing to himself. Just then, his phone buzzes. Reluctantly, Dan drags his eyes away from the screen, fishing it out of his pocket. 

18:54 Unknown Number Hey Dan! This is Phil (Mr Lester)

Dan chokes on a tomato. 

He reaches over to put his bowl of pasta on the bedside table, coughing, and turns back to his phone. Phil’s face continues staring out of his screen, those all-knowing, laser-eyes burrowing into his skull. Dan flushes, feeling caught out, and slams the lid of his laptop closed. 

His phone buzzes again. 

18:55 Unknown Number (the dorky guy who makes you  wear capes and help children to  build precarious structures out  of tables and chairs)

Despite feeling as flustered by this unexpected text as a yanderé schoolgirl encountering her senpai, Dan snorts at the joke. 

Fingers trembling a little, Dan adds Phil’s name to his contacts, and spends around three minutes typing and retyping a response.

18:58 Dan Howell did i forget giving you my number in a cringey attempt at gaining friends in my new job or something 😅

18:58 Phil Lester 🌠 hah! no i actually got it from the  school office 😳 

Dan frowns in confusion. 

18:59 Dan Howell Is that even allowed?

19:00 Phil Lester 🌠 Not sure. But I’m very charming, so it wasn’t an issue 😉

19:01 Phil Lester 🌠 I told them I wanted to ask you something important, related to class

Dan’s heart immediately sinks. That makes sense, he supposes, reaching for his pasta again. Phil’s just messaging him to discuss something work-related. Nothing to get excited about, after all. 

He types out a quick response, then places his phone aside, filling the disappointment-void opening inside of him with mouthfuls of pasta. 

19:02 Dan Howell Oh cool. Do you need me to do something for Monday’s class?

19:03 Phil Lester 🌠 I just need to ask you somethng in preparation

19:03 Dan Howell Ask away Mr Lester

19:04 Phil Lester 🌠 Do you think the Year Nine’s will laugh at me if I wear this in class (Attached: 1 image)

Dan stares at the message, uncomprehending. He scrolls down, laughing in surprise as he sees the photo Phil has included. 

It’s a picture of him, close up, with his chin raised, exposing his neck. Around his shirt collar is a bowtie, white with black polka dots. 

19:06 Dan Howell Without a shadow of a doubt, yes, they will laugh at you. Sorry bud. 

19:07 Phil Lester 🌠 Perfect! Thanks. 

Dan waits expectantly, glancing at his phone every few seconds as he finishes up his pasta. After he’s scraped the bowl clean, he picks the phone up again, wondering vaguely if he’s hallucinating this entire conversation. 

19:13 Dan Howell Is that it???

19:14 Phil Lester 🌠 Your TA duties are complete. Pls feel free to go forth and enjoy your weekend, Mr Howell

Dan blinks at the text, very confused. He’s about to shove the phone in his pocket, when another text comes through.

19:15 Phil Lester 🌠 And enjoy a cool photo of ur new favourite teacher, now saved to your camera roll free of charge

19:16 Dan Howell How do u know I won’t delete it

19:17 Phil Lester 🌠 Uh, you’d better not. I don’t hand these selfies out to just anyone Daniel

A little thrill shimmers through Dan’s veins at the sight of Phil using his full name. 

19:18 Dan Howell dw I’ve got it as my wallpaper already. I might even print it out, frame it for my wall

19:20 Phil Lester 🌠 Beats stalking through my Facebook albums I bet 😉

Dan’s heart actually stops for a moment, he’s sure. No, he thinks, feeling cold sweat pearling on his brow. There’s no way Phil could know something like that, surely.

He decides to try laughing it off, still terrified. 

19:21 Dan Howell Pfft as if m8

19:22 Phil Lester 🌠 tbf if you had stalked me I’d be super miffed you didn’t friend request me

Dan’s muscles melt of tension, the relief flooding out of his pores. Phil had just been stabbing in the dark with a weirdly accurate aim. 

19:23 Dan Howell aw u wanna be my fb friend? Cute.

Dan opens his laptop again, clicking determinedly off Phil’s profile, feeling his cheeks heat like he’s being watched. He’s just about to click off of Facebook altogether, when he gets a notification. 

Phil Lester has sent you a friend request!

Dan blinks at the message, gawping. 

His phone buzzes. 

19:26 Phil Lester 🌠 yes please

*

Dan spends the weekend wishing for it to end, which is an entirely new experience for him. 

His housemates invite him out for drinks on Saturday night at their local pub. Dan doesn’t bother attempting to refuse; Teddy and Tyler are not the sort of people who can be successfully argued with. 

They fail to mention, however, that they have invited a bunch of other people to join them for drinks, including Stephanie, Dan’s ex-girlfriend. As a result, the evening turns into Dan downing more pints than he is able to handle in order to deal with the glares from the girl he dumped a few months ago. 

At the end of the night, Tyler and Teddy have Dan’s arms over their shoulders, and are merrily singing The Phantom of the Opera as they drag him home. They take off Dan’s shoes and trousers for him and lay him in bed, laughing away at Dan being a lightweight, and then promptly climb in either side of him. 

Dan groans, feeling nauseous and irritable. He loves his housemates in many ways, but they are really annoying. 

“Unngh, get out,” he says, half into his pillow. Instead of obeying, Tyler and Teddy wrap Dan in their arms, squeezing him tightly. 

“Aw, Dan’s a grump because he had to face Scary Stephanie,” Tyler teases. 

“She was more terrifying than usual tonight,” Teddy muses. “Have you spoken to her since... y’know?”

Dan doesn’t reply; he’s too focused on trying to pretend he is currently alone in this bed. He has his eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to block out all evidence to the contrary. 

“Since he callously ripped out poor Stephy’s heart?” Tyler supplies, giggling. “I’d say he’s prrrobably been avoiding her since then, right Danny?” 

In the hopes it might get him some peace and quiet, Dan nods. 

“I still don’t get it,” Teddy says with a shrug that jostles the bed. “She’s pretty, and she isn’t a complete bore. Why chuck her?”

“Ted, you know why,” Tyler says, his voice mocking. “Dan’s a big fat gay now.”

Dan groans in frustration, elbowing Tyler in the side. “‘M not!” 

“Okay, that is bi-erasure, Ty.” Teddy admonishes, though there’s a smile in his voice. 

“Bi, gay, whatever.” Tyler says. “The point is, Dan’s ready to embrace his twink side at long last.”

Dan sighs, rolling his eyes despite them being shut. “Hate you both.”

“Um, no...” Tyler corrects, sounding affronted. “You love us to bits. Especially ‘cause we’re gonna take you to the hottest gay clubs in town and find you a big, beefy bear to help you transition to the dark side.” 

Tyler tickles Dan in the side, making him shriek. Teddy joins in then, laughing uproariously at Dan’s reaction. 

“No, stop, I’ll throw up on you both!” Dan cries, feebly attempting to fight back. 

“Say you love us, Dan!” Tyler cries over Dan’s agonised laughter. “Say it!”

“I’ll say it if you fuck off!” 

“Deal!” Teddy shouts. 

Despite this, in the morning, as predicted, Dan wakes up with his two terrible excuses for housemates still snoring in his bed. 

*

As soon as Dan’s alarm sounds on Monday morning, Dan hops out of bed, eager for the day to begin. 

He showers and brushes his teeth in lightning time, then spends twenty minutes sorting out his hair and changing his outfit. He tries not to think about why he’s so obsessed with his appearance today. 

After his fifth change of shirt, Dan checks the time and realises he’s about to miss his bus. Swearing loudly, he bolts out of the door, just about managing to grab his bag and coat on the way. Tyler snorts with laughter at him as he goes, blowing a kiss, and Dan just legs it to the bus stop. 

He makes it, just, but only because the bus is a minute late. Luck must be on his side today, he thinks as he struggles to get his breath back on the jolting bus, sweaty and already exhausted, his stomach rumbling. 

Forty minutes later, he’s wading through the swarms of schoolkids up the front steps, heart beginning to pound as he thinks about what lies ahead. 

He doesn’t need to check his timetable to know which class he has first today.

He gets to Classroom Nine ten minutes early, unable to dissuade himself from seizing the opportunity to spend a little bit extra time talking to Phil. 

This plan backfires a little when he opens the classroom door to find it empty and dark. 

He debates what to do, dithering on the spot, and then decides to just come back in a little while. He turns to leave, and bumps straight into Phil’s chest, spilling the mugs of coffee he’s holding in either hand. 

“Ow!” Phil shrieks, and Dan plunges feet-first into the hole opening beneath him in the earth. 

“Shit, shit, sorry!” Dan cries, taking the mugs from Phil’s hands as he flaps his hands in distress. 

“Ah!” Phil hisses, shaking his sleeves as they drip with hot coffee. “No, it’s cool don’t worry- crap, that was hot.” 

“I’ll get some napkins or something- ” Dan says, at a loss for what else to do. 

Phil chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s fine, Dan, I’ll live.” He straightens up, smiling at Dan in reassurance. “So, I brought you a coffee!” 

Dan stares at him in dismay. “I am so sorry.” 

Phil laughs. “I know. It’s fine. I just hope there’s some left in the mug.” 

Dan turns his attention to the cups in his hands. “Yeah, there is. Um, thank you.”

“No problem.” Phil says with a smile, then takes one of the mugs from him. 

He steps carefully around Dan and through the open door of the classroom, sipping as he goes. 

Dan takes a moment to internally scream at himself for being such a prat, and then follows him inside. Phil flicks on the lights, then goes to put his coffee down on his desk. 

“So, you’re keen.” Phil says to Dan, grinning as he rolls up his coffee-soaked sleeves. 

Dan notices for the first time that Phil is wearing that stupid black and white spotty bow tie he’d sent Dan a photo of on Friday. 

Distracted by the sight of it, Dan takes a moment to process what Phil said. His eyes widen. “Um, sorry?”

“You’re here early.” Phil points out, one eyebrow raised. “Not often that you see TA’s getting to class before the first bell.”

“Oh!” Dan says, relieved. “Yeah, well... I just thought...” He scrambles for a reason that might not sound weird, coming up blank.

Phil chuckles. “It’s okay! I’m glad. Setting up for first period alone is always boring.”

“I’ll do my best to entertain you.” 

Phil giggles, then goes to one of the cupboards at the back of the room. He pulls out some unreasonably large rolls of craft paper, along with several bundles of bamboo sticks. 

Dan sets his mug down immediately, going to help him haul everything out. 

“Oh, thanks,” Phil says, surprised, as Dan takes some of the things from him. “Just put them on one of the tables.”

“What are we doing with these, then?” 

Phil laughs, glancing at him. “Wait and see.”

Dan rolls his eyes, smirking. “Such an enigma.”

“It’s all part of the experience.” Phil says. “I’ve got to be mysterious and keep the kids questioning everything. Their curiosity makes them more receptive, I find.”

Dan nods thoughtfully, considering this philosophy. “But I’m not a student.”

“True.” Phil allows. He places the rolls of craft paper down on a table, turning towards him. “Maybe I'm just trying to impress you.” 

Dan laughs awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He fiddles with the sticks of bamboo, swallowing. 

“How was your weekend?” He asks, deciding a subject change is probably for the best. 

“Good!” Phil says brightly. “It was my brother’s birthday. I baked him a hummingbird cake.” 

“A hummingbird cake?” 

Phil chuckles. “Yeah! It’s pineapple and banana flavour with cream cheese frosting. Also I made it into the shape of a hummingbird, because why not?”

“Right.” Dan says, at a loss for what to say. “Why not?” 

“Wanna see?” 

Dan smiles, nodding, and Phil walks over to him, digging his phone out of his pocket. Dan stares at the device in Phil’s hands as he scrolls through his photos. 

This is the object he’d used to message Dan on Friday. Dan’s number is now saved into it. He is, in some small way, more intimately connected to Phil through this rectangular slice of technology. 

“Sorry, I took lots of photos of my brother.” Phil says, laughing, swiping through several pictures of a grumpy looking man in a glittery party hat. “He hates having his picture taken. Oh, here it is.” 

Phil moves closer, his shoulder pressing into Dan’s. He’s deliciously warm compared to the chilly, early morning air in this room, and he smells strongly of the coffee Dan covered him in a few minutes ago. 

He tilts the phone for Dan to see. The cake is astonishing to behold. It’s been moulded into a 3D hummingbird, complete with a chocolate pocky stick for a beak, and covered entirely in a pastel rainbow of frosting. 

“Okay, wow,” Dan says, not bothering to hide how impressed he is. “I was expecting a half-hearted attempt to shape a flat cake into the Twitter symbol... but that’s incredible.”

Phil giggles, looking bashful. “Thanks! It was tasty too, which is a bonus.”

“What do I have to do to get you to bake for me?” 

Phil turns his head to face Dan, still just a little too close. “Hm, I can think of some things.”

Dan can feel it as Phil leans a little more into him, his shoulder pressing slightly harder. He holds his breath, feeling like a rabbit caught in the path of a devious fox. 

And then the bell rings, of course. 

Phil leans away again, still smiling, just as the first students begin to bowl through the door. Jonah happens to be one of them, and he lets out a low whistle as he walks through strolls into the room.

“Oi, sir, you givin’ Mr Howell your number?” 

Phil laughs, pocketing the phone in his hand and moving swiftly away. “Nice to see you too, Jonah. How was your weekend?”

Dan tries to hide his furious blush by going to retrieve his coffee from the desk where he left it. 

The rest of the students file in, and Phil welcomes them all in his usual chipper way. For the first fifteen minutes, Phil does a brief recap of the last lesson about the Algerian War, then introduces the topic they’ll be looking at today, following on from it. 

Today they’re going to start studying the failed revolution of May 1968 in France. 

To emulate the frustration of the liberals taking part in the revolution, they’re going to make pickets and signs with anti-capitalist slogans out of craft paper and bamboo. 

Phil gives them an entertaining rundown of all the issues the left-wing majority of French society had in 1968, and then he tells everyone to get into this mindset, and begin crafting. 

It’s a bit of a madhouse from that point on. The students, despite being in Year Nine, seem to love being let loose with the art supplies. They’re excessive with their use of paint and glitter, creating huge, garish signs with aggressive messages. 

A few of Dan’s favourites read: 

‘We stand, we march, we dab’

‘Marx’s favourite bitchez’

‘Communism ftw’

‘Destroy France’s capitalist infrastructure u cowards’

Phil is loving the enthusiasm so much that he even lets a few curse words slide, though he does insist that Jonah change his sign to ‘We are unTRUCKable’, for the sake of his reputation as a teacher. 

Once the signs are more or less completed, Phil claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Right! Ready to get out there and protest?” 

The class look confused, a hush falling over them as they look at one another blankly. 

“Protest what, sir?” Jonah asks.

Phil tuts. “Haven’t you been paying attention? If we don’t protest, then nothing will change! Workers and students will forever be bottom of the ladder! We have to push the change! We must make Marx proud!” 

Dan stares at Phil like he’s gone insane, as do most of the students. 

“But...” A shy, timid girl Dan thinks is called Anita, pipes up. “This is all in the past, right? They already protested this in France in 1968.” 

Phil beams at her, winking. “True. But tell me, gang, has the fall of capitalism come to pass?”

The students shake their heads, looking unsure. 

“Exactly, Anita!” Phil cries. “So, did the effort these French liberals put in have any effect?”

“No,” Anita answers, her eyes round as she gazes at Phil. “They failed.”

“So we should continue what they started.” Phil says, picking up a nearby bamboo stick and raising it high. “Who’s with me? For the revolutionaries of ‘68!”

The class cheer suddenly, finally catching the glint in Phil’s eye. They grab their pickets, and follow Phil as he strides to the door of the classroom. Not knowing how else to respond, Dan hurries after them, a little panicked as the crowd of fourteen-year-olds pour out into the hall. 

If only his deadly strict advisor from teacher-training could see him now. The Health and Safety of most of Phil’s activities would absolutely not pass regulations. 

“What do we want?” Phil cries, oblivious to his own rule-breaking as he marches the gaggle of teenagers down the corridor. 

“Revolution!” Jonah shouts, laughing. 

“When do we want it?” 

“Uh, 1968?” Someone calls out, and Phil chuckles.

“Ideally, yeah, but forty-nine years later works too.” 

Marvelling at the boldness of this man, as usual, Dan jogs to the front of the pack of students, marching along beside Phil. 

The rest of the class begin a chant of their own, their signs waving above them in the air as they walk determinedly through the school. 

Several classroom doors open, and students and teachers alike poke their heads out into the corridor, laughing and pointing as they pass by. 

“You’re nuts,” Dan says to Phil, feeling breathless with the adrenaline of this mad activity. “Won’t the other teachers hate you for this? You’re probably disrupting a few classes.”

Phil laughs, shrugging. “Maybe.”

He grins at Dan as he veers unexpectedly to a nearby door leading to the playground. He holds it open for the students as they march through; several of them high five he and Dan as they go. 

Dan smirks at Phil. “I think you might be some other people’s favourite teacher too.” 

*

Dan tries not to be too gloomy as he helps gather up all the students’ pickets at the end of class. There are now just under three and a half days separating him from his next chance to assist Phil in the classroom. 

Sure, he might be able to snag some of Phil’s attention during lunch and break times between now and Thursday, but it’s not the same as having a full hour with him. 

“Guys, before you leave!” Phil shouts as the students pack away their things. “I thought that, as we’re studying the ‘68 revolution, it’d be cool for you to see a French film from around that time! Cinema is really important in French history, as a lot of the prominent left-wing figures were filmmakers, and they produced some really cool stuff about this period.” 

Dan looks up in interest, wondering where Phil is going with this. 

“So basically, as there isn’t enough time to show a whole film during class, I thought it’d be fun to have a little film night this week!” Phil tells everyone, beaming. The class squeal in excitement. “I thought Wednesday evening would work. I’ll bring a film in, and if you’re free that evening, stay behind after school and we can all watch it together!” 

The class all begin chattering at once, the excitement evident in their voices, even if it’s difficult to distinguish exactly what they’re saying. 

“Sounds like you’re all keen!” Phil laughs. “So if you can make it, I’ll start the film at about four on Wednesday.” 

“Have you invited Mr Howell, sir?” Jonah calls out, turning to wink at Dan. 

Dan glares at him, trying to suppress his own urge to blush. 

Phil chuckles, turning to Dan. “Is Mr Howell interested in coming along?”

Dan reaches up to rub the back of his neck, feeling awkward. At least twenty-six pairs of eyes glue themselves to him, eagerly awaiting his response. 

“Um... sure.” Dan says at last, shrugging like it isn’t the most exciting thing he’s been invited to in months. “I’ll try and make it.” 

The class laugh, and Jonah chucks a ball of leftover craft paper at him. “Oh, got something better to do, sir?” 

Dan chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there.”

“Awesome.” Phil says; Dan catches his eye, and has to keep himself from grinning. 

*

“Hey, we’re going to the pub tomorrow.” Tyler tells Dan on Tuesday, falling face first onto Dan’s bed. 

“I’m never going to the pub with you and Teddy again after last time.” Dan tells him, kicking Tyler with his foot in a vague attempt to push him off the bed. 

He’s been scrolling through Tumblr for an hour or so now, but just because he’s been holed up in his room since he got in from work, does not mean that Tyler gets to just wander in and annoy him. 

“Aw, come on, that’s mean.” Tyler says, pouting at Dan. “Stephanie won’t even be there this time, I swear.” 

Dan swallows, shaking his head as he turns back to his screen. “Nope, sorry.”

“Dan, you know we’re not gonna let you mope about the house while we go out.” Tyler says, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Well, you don’t need to worry.” Dan says, feeling awkward. “I won’t be here.”

Tyler is quiet for a moment, then perks up, catlike, catching the scent of some gossip. “Oh?”

Dan just presses his lips together, saying nothing. He reblogs a photo of a cute panda, trying to stay calm. 

“Teddy!” Tyler yells, making Dan jump. “Dan’s keeping secrets!”

Dan looks up at him with scorn. “Tyler, don’t be-”

Teddy bursts into the room, wearing an apron with a naked man’s torso on the front, a spatula in one hand. 

“Secrets?” Teddy asks, wide eyes darting between Tyler and Dan. “What secrets?”

“Dan has secret plans tomorrow night.” Tyler informs him, grinning. 

“Plans?” Teddy repeats, acting shocked. “But Ty, Dan doesn’t have any friends apart from us!”

“Wrong.” Dan says gruffly. “You two are not my friends, I hate you both.”

“Is it a date?” Tyler asks, sucking in a gasp. 

Teddy leaps onto the bed beside Tyler, squealing. “Oh my God, is it a date, Dan?!” 

Dan rolls his eyes. “For Christ’s sake, no. It’s not a date.” 

He could never, in a million years, be that lucky. 

Just then, his phone pings. Ignoring the probing eyes of his two housemates, Dan plucks the thing out of his pocket to look. 

18:34 Phil Lester 🌠 excited for some french cinema tomorrow night? je suis trés  joyeux que tu viennes! :)

Dan’s heart flutters, registering who the text is from, and then his phone is being plucked out of his hand. 

“No!” Dan cries, lunging for Tyler. “Wait, don’t-”

“Okay, who is Phil?” Tyler asks, holding the phone out of Dan’s reach; Teddy grabs hold of Dan by the waist, restraining him. 

“Ooh, Phil!” Teddy repeats, giggling. “I knew you were looking for a man.”

“I honestly loathe you both.” Dan grits out, struggling uselessly against Teddy’s grip. 

“French cinema?” Tyler asks, tilting his head to one side. “Is that code for something?” 

“Give me back the phone, Tyler.” Dan says, going limp in Teddy’s arms, defeated. 

“We’re just taking an interest in your personal life, Dan,” Teddy says soothingly, patting Dan on the head. 

“Phil’s just... he’s a guy I work with.” Dan says, feeling the redness spread over his cheeks and neck, betraying him. 

“Hmm,” Tyler says, throwing Dan’s phone aside at last. “A guy who is ‘very happy you’re coming’ tomorrow.” Dan blushes harder, not having worked out what the French bit had meant just yet. “Is ‘Phil’... how do you say, un beefcake?”

“Is he a teacher?” Teddy asks excitedly, releasing Dan in order to cover his own mouth with both hands. 

“He’s a teacher, yes.” Dan confirms, snatching up his phone and pocketing it. 

“God, that’s hot.” Tyler sighs, looking wistful. “And he speaks French. Think of the roleplay opportunities.”

“Aw, we can try some schoolteacher roleplay, babe,” Teddy assures Tyler, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Fine, but I get to wear the cute schoolgirl outfit.” 

Teddy rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“I’m pretty sure I can smell burning,” Dan says, sniffing the air in distaste. 

“Shit!” Teddy exclaims, grabbing his spatula and jumping off the bed. 

As he bolts out of the door, the fire alarm begins to shriek, making Tyler scream with laughter. 

“Everything’s fine!” Teddy calls from the kitchen. 

Despite the irritation sitting under his skin, eventually Dan finds himself joining in the laughter too. 

*

Dan is half an hour early to the film screening. 

He would have come straight from his last class, which ended at 3pm, but he decided to make a quick trip to the grocery store round the corner from school. 

He returns with two enormous bags, shuffling through Phil’s classroom door with some difficulty. Phil looks at the bags in surprise, coming over to help Dan haul them in. 

“What’s this?” Phil asks, clearly intrigued. As he takes one of the bags from Dan’s hand, he looks him in the eye. “Hi, by the way. Haven’t seen you all day!” 

Dan chuckles, setting his own carrier bag on Phil’s desk. “Hi. I brought popcorn!” 

“Oh, God,” Phil moans unexpectedly. “As if you could get any more amazing.”

Dan chuckles awkwardly, a warm glow spreading through his gut. “Uh, you like popcorn?”

“It’s literally my favourite food of all time,” Phil tells him seriously. “How did you know?” 

“Damn, I need to be more subtle with my stalking.” Dan says, making Phil laugh so much that he drops one of the bags. “Anyway, it’s not all for you.” 

“In that case, the kids better hurry up before I inhale it all.”

Dan laughs, watching fondly as Phil flits around the classroom, closing blinds and straightening chairs. The projector is on, currently throwing an image of Phil’s desktop background onto the smartboard. Behind his jumble of icons, there’s a picture of what seems to be a large, photoshopped capybara taking up an entire paddling pool. 

Dan decides not to question it. 

“So what film have you picked for us all?”

Phil beams at him. “It’s called Les Quatre-Cents Coups. Have you heard of it?”

Dan shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in an almost smile. It’s obvious to see how passionate Phil is about this subject; he talks animatedly, looking eager and focused.

It’s adorable.

“Wow!” Phil exclaims. “I’m kind of jealous. I wish I could go back to a time before I’d seen it.”

“What’s it about?” Dan asks, mostly in an effort to keep Phil talking.

“Oh... well, it’s about a little boy mainly. An underprivileged boy living in Paris. But it’s about much more than that really. It’s about the oppressive structures of French economy in the fifties, classism, the bourgeoise... and it’s about growing up, y’know? How even if we all experience it differently, there’s a certain relatability about puberty too.” Phil pauses, reddening a little. He chuckles. “I mean, that’s what I take from it, anyway. I studied the history of French Cinema for a while, so I’m a bit of a geek about it. But you can form your own opinions, obviously.”

“Me?” Dan says, laughing. “I dunno. I don’t know the first thing about film. Apart from that I like going to the cinema.”

“Well that’s a good place to start.” Phil tells him happily. “There’s all sorts of theories about spectatorhood, and why audiences enjoy the activity of going to the cinema, watching films as a collective experience...”

Phil trails off again, shaking his head.

“Okay, you have to stop me if I start rambling, Dan. I get carried away.”

“I think it’s cute.” Dan says before he thinks about it.

Phil’s eyebrow lifts in surprise, but he seems to take the comment in his stride. Dan, on the other hand, blushes furiously, cursing himself for being so transparent.

“I think you’re just too nice to tell me to shut up,” Phil jokes, but he lets his eyes linger on Dan’s, warm and fond.

Luckily, before Dan can shove his foot any further into his mouth, a couple of girls from the class wander in, looking trepidatious.

“Hi, uh... can we come in yet, sir?”

“Of course, Joanna!” Phil says, jumping down from his position on the desk. “Hi Bethany! Would you guys mind helping me and Mr Howell to set up?”

They jump to the tasks Phil gives them happily, chattering to him about the petty dramas of their day, complaining about their homework and the fallouts they’re having with friends.

Dan watches with amusement, marvelling - as always - at the ease with which Phil converses with his students, giving each one his undivided attention while they’re speaking, never replying in a condescending tone.

He’s such a rare gem of a teacher, Dan thinks. Phil sends Joanna to the staffroom to collect bowls, and they put one on each table, filled with popcorn.

Soon enough, the other kids begin to arrive, all wearing the thrilled grins Dan remembers from when he used to stay behind after school. There’s something about being in the building outside of the mandatory hours that just seems a bit naughty. It doesn’t matter that they’re here for what is essentially an extended history lesson - the students are excited to be involved in this extra-curricular activity.

Dan hasn’t asked them, but he’d bet a lot of that excitement comes from having Phil here, providing his ever-shining rays of brilliant, sunny exuberance.

The kids take their seats, restless at first, but settling in once Phil dims the lights and presses play. Dan finds a seat on one of the empty tables at the back, and is all prepared to expand his cultural knowledge with some French Cinema. Then, once he’s sure the film is running, Phil walks to the back of the class and slides into the seat right beside him.

Immediately, Dan releases any hope he was holding onto of immersing himself in the film.

“Ready?” Phil asks in a low, quiet voice that pierces straight through Dan’s gut. 

He’s leaning in close, eyes sparkling as the light of the opening credits reflect in them.

All Dan can do is nod silently, and try not to let the squeak out of his throat.

Phil’s one of those people who doesn’t shut up during a film. Dan hates those sorts of people usually, but he can’t seem to find Phil’s inability to keep his comments to himself anything but ridiculously cute.

His musings vary from the way in which the cinematography emphasises certain aspects of the narrative, to the strange dress sense Parisians had in the days of the 'nouvelle vague’, as he calls it.

He talks so much that he is shushed by the students more than once, but he just giggles and apologises in a stage whisper, to which the students roll their eyes.

“See that?” Phil says at one point, basically pressing himself against Dan’s side in order to point at the screen. “The photo of the man Antoine is putting on his shrine? That’s Balzac. He’s one of the founders of realism in literature.”

Dan smiles. “How meta.”

The responding look Phil gives to Dan is something so warm and proud that Dan wants to melt it down and spread it on a thick slab of toast.

“Exactly.”

Their hands meet in the popcorn. It’s like something out a cringey teen TV show. Phil just laughs and winks at him, but Dan about faints from how fast the blood rushes to his cheeks.

Phil seems to have no issues about personal space, and allows their legs to rest comfortably against each other beneath the table. He’ll grab Dan’s shoulder during his favourite scenes, eyes shining, breath held as he watches the screen.

Honestly, by the time the final shot (apparently an incredibly famous moment in film history) appears, Dan is not totally sure whether he’d be able to say what the film had been about. He’d spent quite a lot of it staring at Phil, and the rest of it thinking about how it felt - elating, blissful, drug-like - to sit beside him in the darkness, in a room where everyone else was steadfastly facing the other way.

Phil turns to him as the image fades to black, a knowing glint in his eye.

“Did you like it?”

Dan stammers out something that isn’t really words, and nods emphatically to make up for it. Phil grins at him, tongue slightly visible through his rows of teeth, and then he stands up, much to Dan’s dismay.

“So that was Les Quatre-Cents Coups!” Phil says to the class, climbing up to sit on the desk at which he and Dan had been sat. Dan cranes his neck upwards, leaning back in his chair to watch as Phil crosses his legs underneath him on the table. “Could someone get the lights, please? Thanks Bethany.”

The lights flash on, garish and bright, and the class groan, rubbing their eyes.

“What did we all think of it, then?” Phil asks, beaming.

“Awesome!” Someone shouts.

“I thought I hated black and white films, but that was cool.” 

“I loved it! Paris is so beautiful.” 

“That kid was well sick at acting, sir.” 

Phil nods encouragingly as students call out their opinions. 

Jonah snorts loudly. “I couldn’t concentrate on half of it. Kept gettin’ distracted by Mr Lester and Mr Howell flirting in the back!”

Phil laughs, shooting Jonah a disapproving look. His smile stays in place though. 

“I’m sure Mr Howell has far better options, Jonah.” Phil teases, and Dan just tries to pretend he’s somewhere else. 

He might kill Jonah at some point, he considers. 

Then, someone sticks up their hand. Phil points at the kid, smiling. 

“Yes, Matt?”

“What’s the title mean in English, sir?”

“Well, the English version of the film is called The Four-Hundred Blows.” Phil answers. “Which is actually an inaccurate translation, as it doesn’t mean anything. The original title comes from a phrase that people use a lot in France - ‘faire les quatre cents coups’ - which kind of means ‘to raise hell’. It suits Antoine, don’t you think?”

“Suits me, sir!” Jonah calls out, making everyone chuckle. “I’mma start sayin’ that. What was it again? Fair lezzer cooper?”

Phil laughs, hands holding his ankles as he leans backwards. It’s such a sweet action, so innocent and playful, that Dan can’t help smiling.

“Faire les quatre cents coups,” Phil corrects gently, enunciating each word. “I think it suits you as well, Jonah.”

Joanna is sat at the table in front of theirs, her chin in one hand as she gazes up at Phil, marvelling.

“Do you speak French, sir?” Joanna asks, obviously smitten. Dan can relate.

Phil beams at her. “Yeah, I do! I spent a year studying in Paris.”

Dan’s eyebrows lift in surprise. He’d suspected that Phil knew a few phrases, but the fact he speaks fluent French is a surprise. Why is that such an attractive quality?

He imagines Phil speaking to him in that low, quiet voice he reserves for when he wants to tell Dan something the class or another teacher shouldn’t overhear, but in French. A warm trickle runs teasingly up his thighs, like light, tracing fingers. A full body tremor comes over him. 

Phil throws a glance towards him, presumably having seen that peculiar reaction. Dan doesn’t miss the way his mouth twitches in a smile.

“That’s so dreamy,” Joanna sighs, retrieving Phil’s attention. She sits bolt upright, blushing. “I mean! It’s a dreamy language.” The rest of the class chuckle, and she reddens further. “I wish I could speak it is all!”

“Well, you’re in luck!” Phil announces suddenly. “Because as you may or may not be aware, our Year Nine History trip is coming up in two weeks time!”

The class immediately descend into loud, excited chatter; students grab at each other, squealing.

“Hey, come on, guys! Calm down, we’re here after hours, remember?” Phil calls out, but he’s grinning, evidently pleased by their enthusiasm. The class simmer down gradually, their buzz of excitement still palpable in the air. “So, yeah! We’re off to Paris for a weekend! If you can make it, it’s only fifteen pounds per student, and if you can’t stretch that, come and have a word with me, I’m sure we can work something out.”

Dan’s eyes soften as he listens to this last part. This man really is one of a kind.

Again, the class begin talking animatedly about the trip, discussing outfit choices, places they want to visit, room sharing, and other trivialities.

“Are we going up the Eiffel Tower, sir?” Someone asks.

“I’m scared of heights!”

“Where are we staying?”

“Are we sharing rooms?”

“Are we going by coach, or ferry?”

“Ooh, maybe we’re flying!”

“Can I bring my dog?”

“Hey!” Phil interrupts, hands held up in surrender. He’s laughing at them all. “All questions will be answered in class on Monday. I’ll also be sending out permission slips tonight via email, so get your folks or guardians to print them off and sign them, then bring them to me when they’re ready.”

“Sir, I just have one more question!” Jonah cries out, sticking up his hand and waving it. “Just one, sir, please?”

Phil sighs, clearly debating it. Eventually though, he rolls his eyes and nods, smiling. “Go on then. Just one.”

Jonah grins, eyes flicking to meet Dan’s. “Is Mr Howell coming with us?”

Phil lets out a low chuckle, his vivid blue eyes sliding to Dan’s, questioning. 

“I don’t know,” Phil says in a voice that surely isn’t appropriate for the situation at hand. Dan swallows, feeling singled out by the gaze. “Is he?”

(Part Four!)

[stevedonnellyfaith-blog]

Curley’s Choice (Post 83) 4-18-15

                        My dad told me that young Natalie crumbed to the floor in a heap when told the news. She stayed there a while before her Grandfather asked her if she was okay.  She was in shock she explained.  “Good shock or bad shock?”  My dad asked with a fascinated smile.  Medium was the answer.

Young Natalie had always expected to return to California; I just couldn’t figure out how to work things out.  Nor could I figure out a way for me to return to Ohio. Returning home seemed like a fairy tale which I convinced myself that I would someday accomplish, but never really seemed to make any progress towards.  Each time I would search for a job near Cleveland the avenues that lead back home seemed to be blocked with barriers and barbed wire.  It actually surprised me when this time all the options to stay in California were delayed or obstructed while the one opportunity that would facilitate my return to the buckeye state sped along.

Finally, all my migratory preparations were completed and I was ready for the dreaded drive most of the way longitudinally across the North American continent.  I usually don’t mind driving, but my Aveo doesn’t have a lot of leg room and Stephen and I were loaded down with all the stuff we could foresee needing before mid-June when Abby and Nick will arrive with anything that we forgot.  I considered planning an involved itinerary to hit all the sights where we had stopped on the trip we made as a family in the other direction eight years ago, but Stephen’ not very nostalgic and I had mixed feelings about whether I wanted to awaken that old pain that largely rests like silent rocks under the quiet surface of my consciousness.

We left early in the morning and GPS guided me across the spindly bridges from Discovery Bay to Stockton, spans that made Pam decidedly nervous; she usually would route trips in any direction other than Route 4 east from Brentwood.  Stephen quietly slumbered and the drive proceeded without incident all through the quiet Thursday morning.  I was surprised at how quickly the little silver Chevy reached the woods near Tahoe where I had my first encounter with long-ago memories.

On the ride from Ohio to California all those years ago, the travel had not been interrupted by weather even though we were making the trip on the Northern route and leaving on Thanksgiving Day, a naive plan, but we didn’t know any better and got lucky.  We assumed that if it snowed, someone would salt the roads and, anyway, we were driving a Yukon XL.  At Tahoe we encountered a the first blizzard of the season and while we had made good time up until we reached California, the last leg of our journey was slowed to the speed of a Conestoga wagon under the blanket of driving snow.  

At about that time, little two year old Natalie became sick of the trip.  We had bought her a little mini DVD player because our vehicle had been manufactured before installed entertainment systems were an option.  During the drive she watched the same Sesame Street movie over and over as little children are wont to do in a way that torments exposed adults especially when the video includes an inanely happy and silly soundtrack that becomes madly monotonous as it incessantly repeats.  Abby still sings the songs to me whenever she decides to be particularly annoying.

Anyway, standard operating procedure for the little diapered one was to await the conclusion of her movie and then snap the DVD player closed and launch it onto the floor of the Yukon to announce that her show was over. It was sort of cute and we chuckled at her delinquent ritual knowing that we were getting good use out of the $50 we had spent at Wal-Mart or Best Buy despite the fact that the abuse would surely eventually lead to a bad result.  Keeping the two year old entertained was a very high priority for us on an incredibly long trip for a family of six in tight quarters. Finally, began on the road into Truckee as flurries began to float down like marshmallow rain, Natalie launched her little electronic device for the penultimate time and the device finally surrendered to the abuse.    Initially, we thought things would be OK without it, but we discovered that fifty miles can take five hours if traffic rolls along at a pre-industrial pace. Under the onslaught of my little daughter’s crying, all the other family members began to deeply regret our collective prayers for deliverance from the cheerful inanity of the silly Sesame Street soundtrack.

Nearly a decade removed, while Stephen snored quietly from the shotgun seat of the Aveo, I thought nostalgically of our previous family migration.  A Yukon full of Easterners driving west towards our California adventure.  Sometimes my old life seems as far away and unreal as a black and white episode of the Lucy Show or Mayberry RFD, but for that short fifteen minutes the two chapters of my life seemed to fold together.  It seemed like I could almost leave my eastbound car, cross the median and join the other family headed on their westward way, a family of old friends that I remembered intimately but had lost track of somewhere among the long series of sterile hospital rooms.  In reality I knew that resuming my old life was not an option, and an impossible hitchhike into the past also would involve retreading paths painful enough to exceed my remaining emotional stamina, so I released the memories and focused my attention on the current drive in the opposite direction up I-80.

“And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.[Luke 16:26]”

I knew that given the opportunity, I would still knowingly exchange places with the younger me and live it all over again even knowing that the Angel of Death would have a part to play in the adventure.  There is a scene that I remember from the movie City Slickers in which the cowboy Curley, played by Jack Palance, explains to the hero, Billy Crystal’s character, why he chose not to seek a relationship with a beautiful farm woman that once offered him a cup of water.  In Curley’s mind the memory that he kept was perfect in itself and could only have been sullied if he had come to know and love the woman.  Curley’s explanation seemed very profound to Billy Crystal’s character, but it is a rationale that I have never accepted.  While beauty can reside in a perfect face, in a perfect sunset and with a perfect landscape, discovering intimate truth requires effort, action and, unfortunately, pain.

The remainder of my trip included a fair share of unpleasant moments.  Wracked with leg pain and trying to stretch the day’s drive, I attempted to cross Wyoming sipping a late evening McDonald’s latte with the cruise control set at the speed limit, 80 MPH.  Suddenly, I noticed that the rural expressway blacktop that had seemed to quietly wind off to infinity, was now coated in inch deep slush.  With white-knuckle clarity, I touched the brakes and rode out my momentum without turning my drive accidentally into an X-game.  Seeing that even the most hardy truckers had pulled into rest stops and called it a night, I did a 180 and headed back to Rock Springs, Wyoming where Pam and I once visited 18 years ago eventually deciding to turn down a job offer that would have made us truly unlikely prairie folk.

The drive the next day was excruciatingly slow as I discovered that snow is still more than a possibility in the High Plains Desert even in the month of April.  I chuckled when I realized that Wyoming too was part of the Western conspiracy against road salt.  As the state seemed to be pretty much a dirt bowl planted with assorted species of sage, I don’t expect that the environmental trade-off for safety would be too steep a price to pay.  If budgeting is an issue, perhaps they could just sneak across the Utah border at night with Bobcats and dump trucks – their neighboring state seemed to have plenty of salt to spare.   Regardless, Wyoming seemed to have substituted dirt for sodium chloride to no good effect so each truck that passed me drenched my driver’s side and windshield in a spackle of freezing mucky wetness.  Driving blind for what seemed like thirty seconds every five miles or so was an extremely unpleasant experience.  In the end Wyoming seemed to be a last beautiful, frozen, hair-raising four hundred miles during which God allowed Satan to buffet my little car however he pleased before calm normality again reigned at the border of Nebraska through Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and then I was finally home.

Ad Deum qui Laetificat juventutem meam.

I sit here on a Tuesday night in a comfortable chair in my parent’s house before the fireplace that reminds me of the Rivendell in Middle Earth of which I read over and over as an adolescent dreaming of attending West Point and living a life of heroic adventure.  Perhaps our sojourn to California was my version of There and Back Again.  Certainly, I hope like Bilbo and Frodo that I can retire quietly to an existence of engineering pool products without the aggravation of managing scores of employees and without the horror of visiting oncologist offices with family members. Still, I don’t regret the journey and truly appreciate what I have gained from the initiation price of pain and heartbreak.  While Curley chose his pristine memory of a single sunrise tinted with the possibility of perfect love, the Donnellys decided instead to stop and get to know folks. We entered into the lives of others and allowed people to befriend us.  Parting is only painful when one has dared to love, we feel the price was well worth it.

[jetcolor3-blog]

NFC Championship Game Preview: Saint Drew’s Déjà vu

The Bears may be out of it but the George S. Halas Trophy is on the line this Sunday in New Orleans. I saw this Saints team in person twice this year, including Part 1 of this Rams – Saints clash down in New Orleans. For this preview, I’d like to go back to early November before we peek ahead to Sunday and explain why I’m cheering for the Saints this weekend.

Sunday, November 4th, 2018 – Los Angeles Rams (7-0) at New Orleans Saints (6-1)

A stiff and steady breeze gave life to the black and gold flags raised by tailgaters and die-hards setting up for the day’s festivities. In the densely urban area of New Orleans, the Superdome sits like a giant golden spaceship dropped in from another planet. Parking near the stadium is at an unsurprising premium. I pulled my rental car into a small pocket lot near a trio of revelers, their tent roped to the ticket booth, portable grill smoking with breakfast sausage. One thing was clear – these guys were pros. After a brief exchange of pleasantries and securing my parking spot for the low, low price of $50 for the day, I realized I had over five hours until kickoff with absolutely no plan. I decided to take a chance and throw in with this group, making the traditional offering of malted barley and hops to the ice-filled altar.

After about an hour of surface-level conversation, I asked the trio just how much Katrina impacted their lives and the city itself. They explained that it’s so important that people refer to time as “before the storm” or “after Katrina” to give context to the conversation. That in the months after, it felt as though other cities were scavenging, making overtures to poach their professional teams. A real sense of fear added to their misery, thinking they’d never see the Saints play in New Orleans again. While the damage to the Superdome was mostly superficial, the team that occupied it on Sundays was in danger of being ripped out when the city needed the respite of football the most. Over the course of the next five hours of pregame, the trio doubled in size as more friends added to the party, each man adding his stories of the Saints’ importance to the city like layers of Cajun spices to the jambalaya.

My first trip to New Orleans covered a lot of ground – literally and figuratively. Running the Mardi Gras Half Marathon with 17,000+ runners in 2011 gave an extensive, if sometimes painful, view of a city still early in the recovery from the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. I checked off most of the touristy boxes but worked hard to find the best local restaurants and mingle with the people. It’s easy to treat New Orleans like a humid version of Las Vegas, a sin city with oversized cocktails, but the real New Orleans exists outside of Bourbon Street. Each time I have returned to the city, signs of progress showed that this great American city was going to recover, even if it took its time, like the attitude that permeates the residents of The Big Easy. What was made clear to me during this trip was just how important the Saints, and in particular Drew Brees, was to that recovery.

Brees, who just turned 40 this week, was cast aside from the San Diego Chargers with a shoulder injury, looking for a second chance when he entered Free Agency. I’ve always liked Brees – an overachieving Big Ten quarterback that seemed to get discounted because of his size and an ailing shoulder. That he would choose New Orleans in the aftermath of the hurricane seems like it was something out of a bad Hollywood movie script, but Brees was attracted to being part of the rebuild of the city as much as putting his mark on a franchise known more for fans with paper bags on their heads than for winning seasons. This is rarely mentioned about Brees but should arguably take the lead role in his biography. One of the guys at the tailgate put it best – “to the people here, he’s Saint Drew of New Orleans. He’s a savior.” Brees put the franchise on his back and surged into relevance, setting or challenging every major passing record and winning the Super Bowl in 2009, the last time the Saints held home field advantage in the NFC playoffs.

Coming into this game, the Rams were undefeated, running through the league with the kind of offensive output that put defenses on the endangered species list. Spirits were high from both sets of fans. There was a feeling of inevitability that today was only a preview of a bigger game down the road. The Rams fans walking by on their way to the stadium in their Todd Gurley and Jared Goff jerseys were mocked and jeered, but with the aftertaste of a laugh and a smile. Saints fans take their football seriously – but it’s all in serious fun with no hint of venom. This isn’t the passive-aggressive nature of the Midwest I was so accustomed, but more of an aggressive-passive approach that leaves everyone shaking hands instead of shaking fists.

Like all die-hard fans, there was a series of pre-game rituals that needed to be observed. Some had to do with wearing the right jersey or gear that hadn’t been marred by a bad game earlier in the year (no one was wearing duds from the opening week loss to the Bucs, for example). Most of the rituals involved some kind of beverage or, in one case, the game day cigar. Participating in these rituals helped me earn an honorary designation as a member of the crew. As we prepared to enter the Cathedral of Saint Drew, we paused to admire the statue of Steve Gleason’s punt block, commemorating the triumphant return of the Saints to New Orleans after Katrina. I wondered where they will put the one of Brees that will certainly be commissioned.

The pregame pyrotechnics transferred to both offenses, as each side started off red hot:

· Alvin Kamara, 11 yard TD (10 play, 75 yard drive), 7-0 Saints.

· Todd Gurley II, 8 yard TD (6 play, 71 yard drive), 7-7.

· Drew Brees to Alvin Kamara, 16 yard TD (8 play, 63 yard drive), 14-7 Saints.

· Jared Goff to Brandin Cooks, 4 yard TD (6 play, 70 yard drive), 14-14.

Four touchdown drives within the first 16 minutes to kick off the game. Brees was locked-in early and finished the day connecting on 25 of 36 throws for 346 yards and 4 scores. Most of the damage was done by Michael Thomas, who arguably ascended to the top of the mountain to grab the belt for best receiver in the league this season. He caught nearly half of Brees’ completions for a ridiculous 211 yards, including the absolute dagger – a 72 yard beauty down the deep left side of the field.

But here’s where I believe New Orleans and head coach Sean Payton showed why they’re the better team, particularly at home in the Superdome – the Rams tended to score more quickly whereas the Saints were able to control the game by mixing more runs in with their dangerous passing game. The Saints were able to compile 30 designed runs to only 15 for the Rams. That helped lead to a 6 minute advantage in time of possession, which kept the Saints defense just that much fresher. As evidenced by that amazing drive in the 3rd quarter against the Eagles in the divisional round, the Saints are a team built to overcome adversity and sustain long drives when the pressure is at its greatest. The Saints held on to finish off the Rams by a convincing 45-35 final score and helped the Saints earn home field advantage in the playoffs.

Rams (14-3) vs. Saints (14-3) – Championship Game Preview / Prediction:

Rams Head Coach Sean McVay showed in the Divisional win against the Cowboys last week a willingness to put team ahead of pure offensive production. By leaning on the running game against Dallas and piling up over 40 designed runs, McVay allowed his defense to play situational football with fresh bodies. The Rams won the time of possession battle against Dallas by 13 minutes. With Defensive Tackle Sheldon Rankins out with an Achilles injury for New Orleans, it will be interesting to see if McVay can stay patient with a similar approach against the Saints or revert to pass-happy mode. He abandoned the run early in the first meeting between these two squads but he may have to stick with Gurley and the resurgent corpulence of CJ Anderson if the Rams are to pull off the upset. If McVay puts the ball solely in Jared Goff’s hands, it will be interesting to see if the Saints can avoid giving away free yardage as their defensive backs have been particularly handsy all season. Eli Apple owns 6 pass interference penalties on the year while the reigning Defensive Rookie of the Year Marshon Lattimore has 3. Teams playing the Saints are constantly forced to throw more than they want to so it’s unsurprising New Orleans is among the league leaders in defensive pass interference penalties, but everything is magnified in the playoffs.

If McVay takes a steady hand to his offensive juggernaut like Sean Payton does with his, we may have an instant classic on our hands. The Saints defense has started to get its groove back (6th in weighted defensive DVOA) and while the same cannot be said for the Rams, there is enough star power in blue and yellow to make a difference in big games like this. Saints Left Guard Andrus Peat struggled against the Cowboys and will find little solace in playing against Aaron Donald and Suh. As tempting as it is to predict another track meet between these teams, I think it more likely that it will take longer, sustained drives from both squads to score as the defenses are playing better football than they were in early November.

Oftentimes, games like this come down to who has the better coach and quarterback. Despite Brees hitting 40 this week, it’s clear that he has had the superior season to Goff, who has cooled down significantly since the Bears broke him in Week 14. The loss of Cooper Kupp was bigger than anyone could have imagined, so they’ll need to rely on running the offense through Gurley in a big spot. If Goff is pressed into throwing 35+ times, McVay will likely try to keep him from throwing at Lattimore, easily the most talented member of the Saints secondary. On the other side, Marcus Peters or Aqib Talib will need to make a splash play for the Rams to gain an extra possession but the Brees to Thomas connection this season has been nothing short of masterful. The Rams had no answer for Kamara in the first game either and it may come down to his playmaking ability again for the Saints to convert scoring drives. One thing to note about Brees is his arm strength. Brees underthrew Ted Ginn Jr. on the opening interception last week against the Eagles and he couldn’t find a wide open Taysom Hill later in the game. In fact, Brees has not been particularly accurate on deep balls this year, hitting only 7 passes over 30 yards. His arm has not had the overall strength we’re used to seeing from him and Taysom Hill has actually been called on a couple of times to fire a deep ball. The Rams corners are known gamblers and may take a chance if they no longer fear getting beat over the top.

As for the better coach, it’s hard to argue with Payton at this point who has been in this situation before and has a more complete handling of his offensive system. Both coaches are among the most talented play callers in the league and I’d expect plenty of adjustments, counters, and feints to be called on either side. The x-factor in this match up though is the Superdome and the fans that make it a truly remarkable atmosphere. Home field advantage may not be real for all 32 NFL franchises, but it is without a doubt a real advantage in New Orleans. The last time New Orleans hosted the NFC Championship game, Drew Brees broke through to the upper echelon of passers by securing his first Super Bowl appearance and eventual victory. Now, Brees is near the end of his illustrious career with a chance to go out the ultimate winner. He’s been here before, he’s beat this team before. The stage is set for the storybook ending. I’m not about to doubt him now.

Prediction: Saints 31, Rams 27

Find me on Twitter @gridironborn

Source: https://www.windycitygridiron.com/2019/1/17/18186877/nfc-championship-game-preview-saint-drews-deja-vu-michael-thomas-kamara-rams-goff-mcvay-payton

[weekendwarriorblog]

WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND January 25, 2019  - The Kid Who Would Be King, Serenity

(Yes, I realize the weekend just ended for most, but hey, might as well get an early crack at NEXT weekend, huh? January is winding down with what’s going to be seem like a fairly boring weekend after last week’s M. Night Shyamalan sequel disappointing when compared to the sensation of Dragon Ball Super: Brolly, a movie that few movie writers knew about before Wednesday but grossed $21 million in six days. But hey, variety is the spice of life, and the two movies opening wide this week certainly add some spice with a duo of films from reputable British writer/directors.

THE KID WHO WOULD BE KING  (20thCentury Fox)

Written and directed by Joe Cornish (Attack the Block) Cast: Louis Ashbourne Serkis, Dean Chaumoo, Angus Imrie, Tom Taylor, Rebecca Ferguson, Patrick Stewart, Rhianna Doris, Denise Gough MPAA Rating: PG

On the one hand, this action-adventure film is an exciting one, because it’s the second feature from Joe Cornish following his astonishing 2011 debut Attack the Block, but also, because it’s Cornish’s first studio feature for a mainstream audience, geared towards family audiences in particular.

It’s a fairly standard take on the King Arthur mythos with a young British lad (played by Andy Serkis’ son) finding Excalibur, the legendary sword in the stone and having to team with his best friend (and a couple school bullies) to take on the return of Morgana le Fey (Rebecca Ferguson).

It seems like a good idea to get kids, especially young boys, interested in the tales of King Arthur even though the last few movies have bombed as neither Guy Ritchie’s 2017 film King Arthur: Legend of the Sword or the Jerry Bruckheimer-produced 2004 movie King Arthur found much of an audience. In fact, trying to bring any British legend to the screen and get American moviegoers interested might be a fool’s errand, as seen by last year’s Robin Hood bomb.

The thing is that other than Patrick Stewart – star of Fox’s ongoing X-Men franchise, which seems to be in limbo these days -- and Rebecca Ferguson from the last couple Mission: Impossible movies, there are no stars in the movie that could entice those on the fence about whether to see this movie.  On the other hand, reviews have generally been good which could help boost interest a little more going into the weekend.

At first, I thought maybe this would end up with around $10 million, but it’s basically going to be a family movie coming into a market where most other family films have been in theaters for three weeks or more. (Dragon Ball is an exception.) Fox was also able to get it into more than 3,4000 nationwide, because wisely, it waited until after Glass opened for this.  Because of this, I’m going to goose up my number to somewhere between $11 and 13 million with most of the family movies geared towards boys falling away and Joe Cornish’s older fans maybe giving this a look. Sadly, the movie is not being marketed as “from the director of Attack the Block” as it clearly should be.

Mini-Review: Granted that Attack the Block was always going to be a hard act to follow for Joe Cornish, and yet he has written and directed a follow-up that might appeal to younger moviegoers though maybe not so much Cornish’s older teen fans from his directorial debut.

Louis Ashbourne Serkis, who is indeed the son of Andy Serkis, plays Alex Elliot, a fairly normal 10-year-old, who stands up to a couple school bullies and while being chased by them finds a sword embedded in rock on a construction site. It is indeed the fabled “Sword in the Stone” Excalibur as used by King Arthur. Along with his best friend Bedders (Dean Chaumoo) and their two relentless bullies (Tom Taylor, Rhianna Doris), they all go on a quest to fight Arthur’s evil sister Morgana (Rebecca Ferguson) and save Britain.

The first major hurdle this otherwise fine kids’ action-adventure faces is the fairly weak cast, because without liking Alex or his colleagues, it’s hard to root for them even with the stakes never feeling too great. The one exception is Angus Imrie as the young Merlin who somehow manages to get more laughs than the older Merlin, played by Sir Patrick Stewart. Alex’s mother is played by Claire Foy lookalike Denise Gough, and she also doesn’t bring much to what should have been touching scenes with Serkis. Ferguson is decent as Morgana, although the role doesn’t give her much to do.

Using many of the same creative team used by buddy and sometime producer Edgar Wright on Baby Driver, including DP Tim Pope and editors Jonathan Amos and Paul Machliss, as well as production designer Marcus Rowland, it’s a safe bet that Cornish has made another movie that looks damn good.  As with Attack, Cornish’s FX team perfectly integrate the many CG beasties with the human characters.

The thing is that Cornish does a fine job with this material, so that the movie is better than the Percy Jackson movies or other similar family films, and he should be commended for making such a smooth transition to studio family films. Even so, by the third act, I was just getting very bored, especially when I thought it was ending, and it went on for another 15 minutes.

The Kid Who Would Be King is perfectly fine -- it has its moments -- but there’s something about it that left me wanting, because it seems like it should have been a lot better overall.

Rating: 6.5/10

SERENITY  (Aviron)

Written and directed by Steven Knight (Locke, Redemption, “Peaky Blinders,” “Taboo”) Cast: Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Diane Lane, Jason Clarke, Djimon Hounsou  MPAA Rating: R

The other new release of the weekend is something that possibly could have done very well in the ‘90s or early ‘00s as an erotic thriller, a genre that has had its ups and downs but has mostly done decently at the box office. This is the third movie from Steven Knight, the director of Lockeand writer of Eastern Promises, “Peaky Blinders” and “Taboo,” though I’m not sure his previous hits will convince many to see this in theaters.

Matthew McConaughey plays fishing boat captain Baker Dill, who has been living in hiding on Plymouth Island after his divorce. His ex-wife Karen, played by Anne Hathaway, shows wanting her to kill her violent and abusive husband (Jason Clarke) in order to save her and Baker’s teen son.  

McConaughey’s career has been all over the place in recent years, but his recent crime-thriller White Boy Rick didn’t do very well, and it feels like Serenity is heading towards a similar fate. In fact, McConaughey has been in quite a string of bombs since winning an Oscar for 2013’s Dallas Buyers Club with his biggest hit being the animated Sing. His most high-profile movie The Dark Tower made $120 million worldwide based on $60 million budget which made it barely profitable but especially disappointing due to its studio’s franchise plans.

Having Anne Hathaway could help as she’s been a lot more careful about her choices since winning her own Oscar a year earlier with last year’s Ocean’s 8, in which she played herself,being a relative hit with almost $300 million worldwide. Her last movie with McConaughey was Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar in 2014, which grossed $188 million domestically, so that’s somewhat of a bonus. The cast is rounded out by the ever-present Jason Clarke, who has yet to really break-out despite being involved in many Oscar-caliber films, as well as Djimon Hounsou, who is becoming a superhero film regular, having just appeared in Aquaman and having roles in Captain Marveland Shazam.  (Some might remember that he also had a great scene with Chris Pratt early in the first Guardians of the Galaxy movie.)

While erotic thrillers have done well in the past, this movie was originally supposed to come out last September, and there was advertising trailers all summer – I know that because I saw the trailer for this in front of a ton of movies – but then it was moved to January, which is never a good sign of faith. This is a rare release from fledgling distributor Aviron Pictures, who released just two movies in 2018.  Aviron is releasing this one into just 2,500 theaters, which might already be too many screens considering how little marketing the film has

Reviews are still embargoed until Thursday (never a good sign), but I’m probably not going to review the movie, since I saw it quite some time ago, though I do have to say that that the big twist in this movie angered me more than anything in M. Night Shyamalan’s Glass.

This movie looks like the epitome of a late January bomb, one that probably won’t come close to $10 million for the weekend and might even end up closer to $5 million or a little more. Either way, it won’t have to make that much to end up in the top 5 this weekend since it’s going up against many movies that have been playing since before Christmas.

This week’s Top 10 should look something like this…

1. Glass   (Universal) - $19 million -53%

2. The Kid Who Would Be King  (20thCentury Fox) - $11.6 million N/A

3. The Upside (STX) – $10 million -33%

4. Serenity (Aviron) - $6.5 million N/A

5. Aquaman (Warner Bros.)  - $5.5 million -47%

6. Dragon Ball Super: Brolly (Funimation) – $5 million -49%

7. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse  (Sony) - $4.8 million -37%

8. A Dog’s Way Home  (Sony) – $4.2 million -42%

9. Mary Poppins Returns  (Disney) - $3.1 million -45%

10. Escape Room  (Sony) - $2.8 million -46%

LIMITED RELEASES

Many of my colleagues will be heading to the Sundance Film Festival this week, but I’m not going, so I don’t have much to say about it. Sorry!

On a more local level , we get  FIAF ANIMATION FIRST FEST over the weekend, focused on the booming French animation film industry with a 20thanniversary screening of Michel Ocelot’s Kirikou and the Sorceress and 17 US  and New York premieres, including the New York premiere of Funanand a number of shorts programs. Studio Ghibli’s Isao Takahata, who died last year, will be honored. You can read the full program and schedule of events Here.  I personally have never attended, but if I wasn’t busy I might check out some of the programs.

As far as the limited releases…

Following its November qualifying run as Germany’s Oscar entry and with two Oscar nominations under its belt, Oscar-winning filmmaker Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s (The Lives of Others) new movie NEVER LOOK AWAY (Sony Pictures Classics). The historic drama is loosely based on the life of visual artist Gerhard Richter with Tom Schilling (Woman in Gold) playing a young artist who has watched East Berlin go from Nazi occupation, watching his older sister be sentenced to death due to her mental illness by a ruthless Nazi doctor (Sebastian Koch), to falling in love with a young woman (Paula Beer) who happens to be that doctor’s daughter and escaping to West Berlin during the country’s contemporary art movement.  I found the movie to be overly long and a little confusing, because I wasn’t sure what the movie was supposed to be about until about 30 minutes into it.  

Just a few months after his last film The Mercy barely got a glance, The Theory of Everything director James Marsh’s new heist film  KING OF THIEVES (Saban Films) will open in theaters (including New York’s Cinema Village) and on VOD and Digital HD on Friday. The true crime tale about a group of retired crooks trying to stage an elaborate jewelry heist stars an ensemble of legendary British actors in Michael Caine, Jim Broadbent, Michael Gambon, Ray Winstone, Tom Courtenay along with Charlie Cox aka Daredevil. I had high hopes for this movie being better than the likes of Zach Braff’s Going in Style, something classier like last year’s The Old Man and the Gun, but sadly, it’s an obvious money grab for older British men and women reminiscing about all the better crime movies made by the cast.

Claus Räfle’s docudrama THE INVISIBLES (Greenwich) follows four German-Jewish youth who decide to stay behind in Berlin as World War II is beginning, living vicariously while dodging Nazi officials before eventually joining the resistance.  This story of survival opens at New York’s Quad Cinema and Landmark 57, as well as in L.A. at the Laemmle Royal on Friday.

The Brazilian animated film TITO AND THE BIRDS  (Shout! Studios) from filmmakers Gustavo Steinberg, Gabriel Bitar and André Catoto tells the story of a boy and his father who are looking for the cure for an illness inflicted on someone after being scared. After playing a number of film festivals, it also opens at the Quad Cinema in New York

It’s hard to believe that 88-year-old French New Wave filmmaker Jean Luc Goddard is still with us and making movies, but all the recent repertory series in New York and L.A. have been leading up to his latest film THE IMAGE BOOK (Kino Lorber). Don’t know much about this film which received a special Palme d’or at Cannes last year, but apparently it’s a “collage film essay,” which means that it probably doesn’t have a plot or narrative that’s easy to explain. It opens at the IFC Center and Lincoln Center in New York.

Tom Arnold and Sean Astin star in Ron Carlson’s Dead Ant (Cinedigm) as the members of an ‘80s hair metal band called Sonic Grave who had a power ballad hit 30 years earlier, and while they’re on a road trip to Coachella, they find themselves trying to be relevant again…. Until they’re attacked by giant killer ants. Okay, I think I need to see this movie, as it seems like my kind of movie.

Playing for one night only nationwide on Thursday as a Fathom Event is Timothy Woodward Jr.’s horror film The Final Wish (Cinedigm), starring the wonderful Lin Shaye (Insidious), Michael Welsh, Melissa Bolona and Tony Todd, and produced by Jeffrey Reddic (writer/producer of Final Destination).  Welsh plays Aaron Hammond who returns to his hometown after the death of his father to help his bereaved mother (Shaye) and deal with the demons from his past, finding a mysterious item while going through his father’s belongings.

Opening at New York’s Cinema Village on Friday and at L.A.’s Laemmle Music Hall on Feb. 1 is Francois Margolin’s controversial French drama Jihadists (Cinema Libre), co-directed by by Lemine Ould Salem, which was banned in France. It follows two filmmakers who were given access to fundamentalist clerics of Sunni Islam to show what it’s like to live your life under jihadi rule.

From Bollywood comes Vikas Bahl ‘s drama Super 30 (Reliance Entertainment), starring Hrithik Roshan as Patna-based mathematician Anand Kumar, who runs the famed and prestigious Super 30 program in Patna. Not sure of the theater count but it’s probably opening in a dozen or so theaters.

Opening on Wednesday following its premiere at Doc-NYC is Robert Townsend’s doc The 5 Browns: Digging through the Darkness, which looks at the 5 Browns, a group of Julliard-trained sibling pianists who rose to stardom only to be devastated when it’s revealed that the three sisters were sexually abused by their manager father Keith Brown. It opens at the IFC Center for a single-week run.

Also opening at the Cinema Village and in select cities is John Kauffman’s Heartlock (Dark Star Pictures), a love story about a female prison guard, played by Lesley-Ann Brandt,  who becomes the subject of affection from a charming male convict (Alexander Dreymo) who wants to use their relationship to help him escape.

STREAMING

The main film streaming on Netflix on Friday is Jonas Akerlund’s POLAR, his follow-up to Lords of Chaos, which premiered at Sundance last year and comes out a few weeks later. Based on the Dark Horse graphic novel, it stars Mads Mikkelson as assassin Duncan Vizla, known as the Black Kaiser, who is getting ready for retirement in a suburban town when he’s dragged back into one last job, but when it goes wrong, Duncan’s new love interest (Vanessa Hudgens) is dragged into it. I’ve never read the graphic novel, and I’ve generally been mixed on Akerlund’s films, but this one is definitely in the same absolute insanity realm of his earlier film Spun with a lot of crazy over-the-top performance from the likes of Matt Lucas (Little Britain) and Johnny Knoxville (Jackass), but in this case, it’s not a good thing. Mikkelson gives another stellar performance, and Hudgens is also quite good (didn’t even recognize her) but the craziness surrounding them from Lucas and the other assassins sent after Duncan made it hard to enjoy the film, especially compared to Mikkelson’s other upcoming film Arctic, but hey, it’s on Netflix so I’m sure people will watch it anyway.

Speaking of which, I also want to note that last week, I didn’t notice that a science fiction film called IO: Last on Earth, starring Margaret Qualley (Novitiate),was also streaming on Netflix. I haven’t watched it yet, but one of the writers also co-wrote Claire Carée’s Embers, which is one of my favorite festival discoveries from the past few years.

REPERTORY

METROGRAPH (NYC):

The Metrograph has a couple new series starting Friday, including Hou Hsiao-Hsien in the 21st Century, featuring 35mm prints of four of the Chinese filmmaker’s recent films: Millenium Mambo, Three Times, Flight of the Red Balloon and Café Lumieré. Then on Saturday, the Metrograph will show the classic Gone with the Windto kick off its Produced by David O. Selznick series, and there’s some great stuff to come, including Alfred Hitchcock’s Spellboundand Rebecca.  The theater will also be screening a 35mm of Ken Loach’s 1991 film Riff Raff, starring Robert Carlyle, who would breakout in Danny Boyle’s Trainspotting. On top of that, Kay Francis: Queen of Pleasure continues with William Dieterle’s Jewel Robbery (1932) and 1929’s The Cocoanuts this weekend, while this weekend’s Late Nites at Metrograph  option is Chantal Akerman’s News from Home  (1977) and Playtime: Family Matinees shows the 2015 animated film Shaun the Sheep.

THE NEW BEVERLY  (L.A.):

Weds. and Thurs. see double features of the 1977 film The Late Show and ‘78’s The Big Fix, starring Richard Dreyfuss. Friday sees a double feature of American Graffiti  (1973) and The Lords of Flatbush  (1974) with More American Graffiti (1979) added on Saturday… for just 10 bucks!The weekend family matinee is 1947’s The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, starring Danny Kaye.  The Sunday/Monday Franco Zeffirelli double feature is Romeo & Juliet (1968) with Brother Sun, Sister Moon  (1972). Tarantion’s Jackie Brownonce again plays at midnight Friday and the Tuesday Grindhouse triple feature is Katt Shea’s Poison Ivy  (1992), Streets (1990) and Stripped to Kill  (1987), which is already sold out online but may have more tickets at the door.

FILM FORUM (NYC):

Far Out in the 70s: A New Wave of Comedy, 1969 - 1979 continues with La Cage Aux Folles and The Seduction of Mimi on Wednesday, double features of Who is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe? and Theater of Blood on Thursday, Woody Allen’s Sleeper and Bananas on Friday, then Blazing Saddles, Young Frankenstein, Rock ‘n’ Roll High School, Monty Python and the Holy Grail on Saturday, and Papermoon, What’s Up, Doc? starring Barbara Streisand and Woody Allen’s Play It Again Sam on Sunday. As part of the series focusing on the great filmmaker and actor Elaine May, Film Forum will show A New Leaf (1971) and Mickey and Nicky (1976) next Tuesday. The weekend’s Film Forum Jr. is Gordon Parks’ 1969 film The Learning Tree.

EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):

Beginning another fun series of double features this weekend with Argento/De Palma with a double feature of Suspiria and Carrie on Thursday, Blow Out and Inferno on Friday, and Dressed to Kill and Tenebrae on Saturday. Saturday sees a special presentation of Craig Owen’s The Silent Film Era at the Alexandria Hotel, while the 1916 Douglas Fairbanks film His Picture in the Papers will also screen on Saturday with live music accompaniment.

AERO  (LA):

The AERO is offering an eclectic mixed bag of films this weekend including the 4k restoration of Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire (1987; Janus Films) on Friday night, David Fincher’s Fight Club  on Saturday, and the WC Fields comedy My Little Chickadee (1940) on Sunday night.

QUAD CINEMA (NYC):

Continuing the theater’s attempt to keep up with ‘90s Cinemax with its X-rated fare, Just Jaekin’s erotic drama Emmanuelle (Kino Lorber; 1974) will screen in a special engagement, leading up to next week’s Beyond Emmanuelle Just Jaeckin retrospective and Erotic Journeys: The Many Faces of Em(m)anuelle. 

IFC CENTER (NYC):

On Friday and Saturday at midnight, the IFC Center will show the 4k restoration of Dario Argento’s Suspiria as part of its Late Night Favorites series. While The Image Book opens here on Friday, Weekend Classics: Early Godard  continues with a 35mm print of A Woman is a Woman  (1961) and Waverly Midnights: The Feds screens Michael Mann’s Manhunter(with Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal coming in the next two weekends!)

LANDMARK THEATRES NUART  (LA):

Friday night’s midnight screening is the Rocky Horror Picture Show follow-up Shock Treatment (1981).

MOMA (NYC):

This week’s Modern Matinees: Sir Sidney Poitier offerings are A Patch of Blue  (1965) on Weds, They Call Me Mr. Tibbs! (1970) Thurs, and No Way Out  (1950) on Friday. MOMA is also screening Ida Lupino’s Never Fear (The Young Lovers) (1950) to end its 16th annual To Save and Project series, although there’s a couple second screenings for those (like me) who only just found out about it now.

That’s it for this week… next week, it’s February! Already?? While many movie writers are still at Sundance and others are preparing for Super Bowl Sunday, Sony releases the crime-thriller remake Miss Bala.

[promptothesunshineboy-blog]

PromptoXReader slightly angsty fanfic with a never-before-seen angry/protective Prompto!

ReaderXPrompto fanfiction with a bit of angst~ But also a rarely seen angry/protective Prompto... spurred into action by angsty stuff~

Trigger warnings for: Self harm, violence, abuse.

This is largely (almost exactly) based on myself and my past/relationships and an incident that happened to me (and my brother) very recently. 

There will be a bit of foul language including one particularly bad word.. but I will censor that one with a little star~ Its his favorite name for me though *bitter laughter*  

[[Disclaimer (also slight spoiler for the story ahead I guess): In the real life version of this...Although he has hit me several times in the past, this time.. he did not hit me.. though he made a threatening move towards me. ]] 

Your backstory: You never knew your biological father, who abandoned you and your mother soon after you were born and signed away all his rights to you. When you were still a young girl, your mother married who became your stepfather. He is a cruel and heavily alcoholic man. For 15 years he physically and mentally abused you; tore you down and made you feel worthless for the great duration of your life. He also regularly abused your mother, though you were always his main target. Your mother and he had 2 more children: your now 16 year old brother and 11 year old sister. Finally, years overdue, after a last-straw incident, your mother finally got up the nerve and divorced him. You are now a young adult in your early 20s, Your siblings, still  minors and of his blood, are still required to have visitation with him. With you out of his grasp, your, now ex, stepfather has turned most of his aggression onto your brother. 

You are traveling and fighting alongside your four best friends: Noctis, Gladiolus, Ignis, and Prompto. And, er, ok... you kinda have a big ‘ol crush on Prompto. The boys have been supportive and patient with you all along. They build you up and make you feel worthy and happy. You feel as though you’ve truly found your place in life alongside these wonderful friends of yours. Maybe even especially so in Prompto. You are all very close but theres a little something extra there with you and Prom...

Story starts under the cut.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Your breath caught in your throat as you read the texts from your younger brother. On one hand, this was nothing new, you were aware how much he was affected by your, now ex, stepfather. Tiny cuts he tried to hide were the physical marker of his anguish. The very same man had affected you so deeply for the majority of your life... And you too had been there before; with the liquid red running from your body in the shower as you sobbed brokenly. You never wanted the same for them. You had always wished to protect your siblings from the same fate as you. He was a cruel man; violent, intolerant, and a dreadful alcoholic. He had put you through living hell for 15 years of your life. As a young adult now, on a journey with your 4 best friends in the world, you were just starting to rebuild some semblance of confidence and self-worth after the long years of abuse. You were a warrior and member of the crownsguard, fighting bravely alongside your friends. Nonetheless, your ex stepfather frightened you more than you would like to admit. And now came the desperate text messages from your brother, pleading for you to come get him. These texts carried an air of frightening desperation and left the blood draining from your face as you read them. The usually chipper blonde boy who sat beside you now had his brows knit together in concern as he studied your grave expression. Prompto hesitantly rested a hand on your shoulder “Hey, y/n, is... everything alright?”  

You swiveled your head to face him, suddenly snapped from your daze. Blinking owlishly at the freckled boy, your voice carried a tremble as you told him about the texts. He listened intently, nodding as you spoke. He knew all about what your ex stepdad was like. You had opened up to the group on this matter before, in a tearful unloading met with many hugs and supportive words. The others had gone, on chocoboback, to the nearby marketplace not long ago, leaving you and Prompto behind where you had been engaged in an energized round of King’s Knight. Now, silence settled around the two of you for a moment as you sat alone together outside the RV. Prompto broke the silence, tilting his head a bit to catch your downcast e/c eyes “Hey... If you want, I’ll go with you.” The words were soft and soothing, calming your heart rate if only a small amount. You peered into his face with a small nod and a whispered “Thanks, Prom.” 

You shot your brother a text as you climbed into the Regalia. Your trembling hands were best kept away from the steering wheel this time, so Prompto took the wheel. As he drove as cautiously as possible, the sunny blonde glanced over towards you and offered and encouraging smile. You return it with all the resolve you can muster, but your mind quickly turns back to worrying. Facing your tormentor, the safety of your brother, possible legal repercussions... ‘It was technically your stepfather’s legal right to have custody of your siblings right now. If you came and took them away against his wishes, he could potentially report you for kidnapping.’ You furrowed your brow. ‘And knowing him, you really wouldn’t put it past him to do it out of spite’ You flinched a bit as suddenly, the young man across from you reached over and slipped his warm hand over yours. You took a breath and focused on the comforting warmth of his larger hand over your own small, trembling one. Biting your lip, you resolved yourself. You absolutely could not leave them at his mercy, especially with the tone of your brother’s messages. 

As you pulled into the dirt driveway of the small basement apartment that your ex stepfather lived in, you had no sooner stepped out of the Regalia when you were assaulted by a terrible commotion as your brother flew out the door, with your stepfather; all anger, beady eyes and beer belly, hot on his heels. Your little sister followed soon after, shouting at him to leave your brother alone. Protective instinct taking over, you hurriedly crossed the distance between you and your brother as the brute of a man caught the skinny youth by the arm and yanked him roughly backwards. Adrenaline rushed through your head. As your brother was grabbed, you barely recalled hearing Prompto’s panicked voice just behind you as he called out “Stop! Don’t do this!” shortly before you drowned it out with your own voice, raised in anger and fear all at once as you took hold of your brother and tried to free him from your stepdad’s grasp. “Let go of him!!” Your voice loud despite the crack in it. You wrestled your brother free, and he stumbled to your side where Prompto had apparently swiftly ushered over your sister in the heat of the moment and now stood with a hand on her shoulder. In that split second, it all shifted and your ex stepfather’s wrath was now on you. He charged you and forced you several steps backwards as his much larger frame closed in on yours. Everything was a flurry of sound and motion as everyone shouted, overwhelming your senses. The violent man leaned into you, inches from your face as he screamed. His breath was heavy with the scent of alcohol; it hit you like a blow to the gut as he berated you; “You stupid little c*nt! Get off of my god damn property! This is my son and I get to say weather he stays or goes! Me!! No one else! Especially not you, you piece of shit homewrecker! I will call the police and have your ass thrown in jail for kidnapping, you fucking c*unt! How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!?! You ruined this fucking family!!!” 

His belligerent screaming rings unbearably loudly in your ears. Your eyes well with tears as you squeeze them shut and try to block out his words. The words everyone assured you was a lie. The words they said he spoke because he has a victim complex and was trying to manipulate you. And yet... the dread filled you as you stood, petrified, drawing into yourself and shuddering.  You opened your eyes just in time to see him draw back his hand. The noise when the back of his hand hit your face was as sharp as the sting you felt, stars exploding in front of your eyes as you stumbled back, 

No sooner had the moment of impact passed, however, then you witnessed, eyes wide, a sight you had never witnessed before. Prompto, the usual cheerful ball of sunshine, had crossed the short distance between the two of you with an expression that could only be described as feral. What happened in a split second seemed to play out in slow motion before your eyes. Prompto’s leather gloved hand, balled into a fist, collided with you ex stepfather’s face with the force of a train wreck. He reeled and stumbled away from you before his shirt collar was snatched up by Prompto’s free hand and the younger man drove him back with the full force of his lanky yet leanly muscled body. Fuled by protective fury, Prompto slammed the larger man roughly into the side of the house and held him there as a viscous growl tore from his throat, words cutting like a blade as he shouted “DON’T YOU DARE HIT HER!!”  The world became still, save for the winded panting of the two men. The gentle blue eyes of your best friend were now a steely cobalt, trained unfaltering, on the eyes of your tormentor. Through gritted teeth he pushed words heavy with emotion “She is not the problem! She was NEVER the problem! And neither are these kids... YOU are!!” 

No one said a word. Slowly, Prompto released his grip on the other man and backed away, never breaking the eye contact. His voice low, a tremble of raw emotion still laced within it, he spoke slowly and confidently “Y/n is.. the nicest and mot beautiful soul I have ever met. Despite you... despite everything... that you put her through. It only ever made her more kind. She is not the problem and never was. She is NOT what you call her. And I will not let you hurt her or these kids anymore..” His face was stern and his voice held a confidence and command such as you’ve never heard from Prompto before. 

Hesitantly, your stepfather spits in the dirt near Prompto’s feet before muttering a begrudging “Some kind of white knight, ain’t ya? Fuck you.. Just you fucking wait...” With the shallow threat, he turned on his heel and stormed away into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. The four of you clamor into the Regalia and hastily pull away. Trembling fingers tap out a message to the other chocobros on your phone, explaining what’s happened. Quietly, from the back, your brother mumbles an emotional, yet drained “Thank you...” You look in the rearview at him and watch as he tugs down his sleeves over bandaged arms. You hung your head as a few tears fell silently. The silence was broken by Prompto’s shaking voice “I-I’m sorry... I just... I don’t know what came over me... but I couldn’t just let that happen.. I couldn’t bear to see it go on....”  The freckled boy blinked away the fogginess in his eyes as he began to come down from his adrenaline rush and his emotions bubbled over. Cutting him off, you grabbed his hand between both of yours and squeezed it tight, tears spilling down your cheeks. “No, Prompto, thank you. For caring about me... for all those things you said. No one... no one has ever fought for me before.... I never thought... I was worthy of protecting...” A soft sob escapes you as you clutch his hand tightly. 

Later, the rest of your friends meet up with the two of you and your siblings at your mother’s house. She came home from errands hurriedly after receiving your call. The rest of that night is spent in a makeshift group therapy session. The adults beginning to plan out what actions may need to be taken for the future. A better future. One where your tormentor can no longer hurt you or the ones you love. The sharing of feelings, tears, and many hugs evolves into games and laughter as the group shifts to trying to lighten the mood. Before you know it, the hour has grown late and you all decide to stay the night at your moms house. Its a small but warm and inviting place. A different house than the one you spent your formative years in. One with a new beginning..  As you lay on the couch and stare past the sleeping forms of Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis where they lay curled on the air mattresses upon the living room floor, a small movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. From the extended recliner beside the couch, Prompto extends a hand toward you. You reach up and lace your fingers with his, enjoying the comforting heat of his touch. As you allow your intertwined hands to rest on the arm of the couch just above your head, you peer though the dark of the room at each other. There is just enough light to make his eyes twinkle ever so slightly, and you can make out a soft adoring smile on his face.. one which you return, heart swelling, before slowly drifting to sleep. 

[dramaruth7-blog]

10 Strange (But True) Facts About Facial Hair & Shaving

Shaving. Did you know men have been doing it since 30,000 BC?

And did you know that the hair on your face is on average x4 thicker than the hair on your head?

Or that your beard can grow over x4 your height?

Nor did I! So in today’s article, I’m giving you 10 strange but true facts you never knew about shaving and facial hair.

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Click Here To Watch The Video – 10 Strange (But True) Facts About Facial Hair & Shaving

Shaving Fact #1. Beard Tax Was A Thing

Apparently King Henry XIII introduced a beard tax, despite having a beard himself.

In 1698, Emperor Peter the Great of Russia imposed a tax on beards. Police enforced this law and collected the tax at the entrance to every town. And what if you didn’t comply? Well, men who refused to pay had their beards publicly shaved off!

Men who paid the tax had to carry a ‘beard token’ (a copper or silver coin with a picture of a beard) with them as proof of payment.

It is said that King Henry VIII also imposed a tax on beards – even though he had one and presumably didn’t tax himself – and his daughter Elizabeth I of England continued this legacy by taxing every beard of over 2 weeks’ growth. This was not a good time to grow a beard!

Shaving Fact #2. Alcohol Can Make Your Facial Hair Grow

Testosterone in the body creates a hormone called DHT which plays a major role in the development of body hair.

Drinking alcohol increases the conversion of DHT into ‘3-alpha diol’ – the main hormone responsible for hair growth speed and this can lead to your facial hair growing more quickly than normal.

And beer contains silicon which is believed to increase circulation and stimulate facial hair growth. This is great news for any beer drinkers out there – you’re not going to a bar, you’re going to work on improving your beard! (Remember that one!)

Shaving Fact #3. Mini Facts

Your eyebrows protect your eyes from moisture and sunlight.

Eyebrows help keep our eyes clean and clear – they keep sweat and rain water away from our eyes so we can keep focused on what’s in front of us.

Ever wondered why some people have curly hair and some have straight? It’s all in the hair shaft. Hairs with round shafts are straight and hairs with oval/oblate shafts curl up.

The average man shaves about 10,000 times in his lifetime!

Shaving Fact #4. Fidel Castro’s Beard Wasn’t All It Seemed

Fidel Castro grew a beard to symbolize the Cuban Revolution… at least that’s what he initially claimed…

Cuban Revolutionary Fidel Castro is famous for many things: some see him as a hero, others a tyrant. He was also synonymous with his long, unkempt beard. Castro’s official line was that his beard was a symbol of the Cuban Revolution; that he and other guerilla fighters let their beards grow while engaged in jungle warfare.

To quote the man himself,

“If you save 15 minutes a day by not shaving your beard, you gain about 10 days a year that you can devote to work, to reading, to sport, to whatever you like. And you save on razors, soap and hot water, too”.

Makes sense…

…but, later on in life he reportedly told Journalist Barbara Walters that the real reason he grew his beard was because his supplies of Gillette Razors blades were cut off by the US Embargo on Cuba at the time!

Here’s a bonus fact for you – In an operation known as ‘The Cuban Project’, the Kennedy presidency included a plan to contaminate Castro’s clothing with thallium salts which would make his beard fall out.

Shaving Fact #5. Men & Women Have The Same No. Of Hair Follicles On Their Face

Hair follicles on a man’s jaw are stimulated by the hormone dihydrotestosterone. And this is the reason men grow beards (and women don’t). There are about 30,000 beard hairs on the face of the average man with the greatest concentration being on the chin and upper lip and the average man’s face contains anywhere from 5,000 to 25,000 hairs.

The average man’s beard grows at around 1/2 inch per month and it is believed that historically women came to find men with thicker beards more attractive because it implied the bearded individual was more dominant than his lowly friend with poor growth.

Shaving Fact #6. Some Animals Also Have Beards

Lions grow long manes whereas lionesses don’t.

It’s not just us men who have facial hair.

The Lion-Tailed Macaque, the Bearded Emperor Tamarin (looks like a monkey and is native to Brazil and Peru) and Scottish Highland Cattle also sport impressive beards.

And did you know that only lions grow manes? A lion’s mane color is indicative of the lion’s strength and health. The darker his mane – the more important he is in his pride. And get this – lions with manes treat lions without manes differently.

The poor animals with little or no manes are attacked more often and have less success with the ladies – this suggests that beards have survival and reproductive benefits. (Remember that one when you’re impressing a woman with your facial hair.)

#7. Beard Growing Contests Exist

Yes, that’s right! The World Beard and Moustache Championships is a real event and it is taken very seriously by those in the business of growing facial hair.

The World Beard and Moustache Championships came to Texas in 2017 and had 738 competitors from 33 countries and 27 categories. It’s for men AND women.

Categories include best partial beard, full beard, full mustache, and a freestyle category. The competition was dominated by the USA. who took first place in 27 different categories and in case you want to go – next year it’s being held in Antwerp, Belgium.

Shaving Fact #7. Hair Removal Isn’t A Modern Trend

OneBlade have invested $1 million to give you a world class shaving experience.

Egyptians shaved their beards and heads. And the Greeks and Romans adopted this custom around 330BC, during the reign of Alexander the Great.

It is believed this was to distinguish themselves from brutish barbarian peoples who were hairier. Some Roman men had a servant to shave them (it’s alright for some!); otherwise they’d start their day with a trip to the barber.

Roman soldiers were encouraged to shave as a defensive measure to stop enemies from grabbing their hair in hand-to-hand combat.

The oldest known remaining barbershop in the world is Truefitt & Hill in Mayfair, London, which was established by William Francis Truefitt in 1805.

And this one is my favorite – Anthony Mancinelli is the oldest practicing barber in the world – aged 107! He was born in Italy in 1911 and at the age of 8 moved to Newburgh, New York with his family.

Shaving Fact #8. In the USA, Beards Are Banned by Militaries & Police Departments

The US Coast Guard allowed beards until 1986, when Commandant Admiral Paul Yost banned them. The U.S. military also prohibited beards because they prevent a tight seal for gas masks.

The majority of police forces in the United States still ban their officers from wearing beards but Dallas PD is one of the few police departments that have recently allowed police officers to grow facial hair.

Shaving Fact #9. Shaving Your Facial Hair Does NOT Make It Grow Back Thicker

This is a common misconception.

Shaving facial hair gives the hair a blunt tip; this means it feels stubbly or coarse and may look darker but it is no thicker.

Shaving Fact #10. Beards Can’t Commit Treason

Sir Thomas More was an English lawyer, philosopher, and philanthropist. In 1533 he refused to attend the coronation of Queen Anne Boleyn. This did not impress King Henry, who ordered More arrested for treason.

The court found More guilty and sentenced him to death by beheading. As More laid his head on the execution block, he told the executioner his beard had not committed a crime and should be spared his punishment, before positioning it out of the way of the executioner’s axe. His beard lived on! (Although the head it was attached to was dead, so it actually died too.)

So, there we have it.

10 strange but true facts about shaving. How many did you know? Did any take you by surprise? I want to hear from you – so let me know down in the video comments. And gentlemen, if you want to know how to get a perfect shave every time, check out my video: Learn How To Shave Correctly.

You’ve got the knowledge, now what about the tools?

One Blade’s founders invested over $1 million to create the perfect shave, using the most advanced technology. The Hybrid razor’s patent-pending Active Floating Blade Approach System lets the blade move very minutely, while still maintaining angle, exposure, and gap tolerances. 

And all this comes with a no-hassle 60-day trial and a LIFETIME guarantee. Click here to check out OneBlade and use code ANTONIO to claim your great RMRS discount. Make shaving an enjoyable experience!

Source: https://www.realmenrealstyle.com/shaving-facts/

[lewishamledger]

Queen of the south

Candice Carty-Williams has taken the book world by storm with her first novel Queenie. The author, who grew up in Lewisham, shares the story behind her dazzling debut

WORDS BY LUKE G WILLIAMS; PHOTO BY LIMA CHARLIE

In the words of its publisher, Candice Carty-Williams’ debut novel Queenie is “a darkly comic and bitingly subversive take on life, love, race and family”.

Centred on the trials and tribulations of protagonist Queenie Jenkins, a 25-year-old Jamaican-British woman living in London, the novel has already attracted admiring comments from writers including Jojo Moyes and Bernardine Evaristo, as well as some serious industry buzz.

Candice admits that she is finding her new-found status as south London’s latest literary sensation “quite surreal”.

“I don’t take it lightly,” the 29-year-old says. “All the buzz around the book has been amazing but now I’m really looking forward to people reading the story and understanding what it’s about and what I’m trying to say.

“I really want people to find something in the book and in Queenie’s character. I want to give the literary landscape a heroine who is flawed, reckless and different.”

Candice admits the process of getting the book published has been something of a whirlwind from the moment she sent her first draft of Queenie to influential literary agent Jo Unwin.

“Being taken on by an agent to being signed is in my memory but it’s sort of got a really weird haze to it,” she laughs. “The whole thing is a blur.”

Following a fiercely fought bidding war between four publishers, Candice eventually decided to sign with Orion, which acquired the novel for a six-figure sum and is publishing it through its imprint Trapeze.

“When I finally made a decision I just sat sobbing in Jo’s office,” Candice reveals. “It was an amazing feeling but also quite scary, because I knew I was putting my work out there now.”

Throughout our conversation Candice’s charisma and occasionally self-deprecating wit prove charming, but above all else it is her passionate desire to broaden representation within the publishing industry that dazzles.

Refreshingly, this is not an author against whom accusations of egotism or pretension could be levelled.

“I didn’t write Queenie for any sort of glory,” she laughs. “If I see a problem that needs fixing I try and fix it and Queenie stems from the idea of representation.

“A central character like this hasn’t existed before in a ‘big event’ publication like this one has been set up to be.

“We’ve had Bridget Jones types and other ‘mainstream’ female characters, but growing up I never had a character like that for myself.

“When you’ve grown up not really seeing yourself represented, you don’t view yourself as important. For me it was always a case of having to be grateful when I saw a black woman represented as a ‘sassy best friend’ or an exotic sexual conquest.

“That was a problem because I always saw myself as a secondary person. So I thought, ‘I’m going to write something about a young woman who people can see themselves in, and she is going to be black because I’m black and I like to write about what I know.’

“It’s important to show that black women are like everyone else but also different, because we see things through a different lens.”

Candice was born in Croydon but lived in Lewisham from the age of eight to 15 or 16, first in Ladywell and then behind Lewisham Park.

“I loved growing up in Lewisham, it’s a place that will always feel like home,” she says.

“I spent a lot of my formative years in Lewisham Library. I was always amazed by the sign that was made entirely of lightbulbs and made books seem very glamorous.

“I like Lewisham because it’s always been very diverse and inclusive. Lewisham Hospital and its staff are also incredible. All my memories of Lewisham are of feeling safe and comfortable.”

Despite her happy upbringing, however, Candice admits she lacked confidence in her abilities and creativity as a youngster – a revelation that makes her current success all the more remarkable and laudable.

“Growing up I never felt I could write,” she says. “The secondary school I went to was good but I was in all the lower sets, I didn’t really have much in the way of academic or career aspirations. Writing wasn’t something I thought I could do.

“Even now I sometimes think, ‘Is this all a joke?’ Writing is something I came to really late and I guess I’m still finding my confidence because I never thought it was an attainable career.”

When I remark to Candice that she seems full of confidence and self-assurance, she laughs. “It’s all a ruse! I’m an introvert mainly. Talking to people and public speaking I find quite hard, but you just have to get on with it I guess.”

Candice’s route into the world of publishing was somewhat circuitous, and speaks volumes for her determination.

After studying for a degree in communication and media studies at the University of Sussex (“I wasn’t allowed to study English – I was always told I wasn’t clever enough”) her eyes were gradually opened to the mechanics of the publishing industry by university friends.

“I hadn’t realised literature was a viable career,” she says. “I remember looking at spines of books and seeing the names of the publisher or imprint and not knowing what they were.”

Post-university a period of anxiety was salved by a book that remains one of her favourites – I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith.

“I’d left university and was no longer part of an institution that told me where to go, what to do and so on. I was like, ‘What am I doing now?’ I was so acutely anxious that whole time and I couldn’t read anything because I just couldn’t focus.

“I Capture the Castle was the first book I was able to read in a long time. It completely took me out of myself and I was so grateful. South London is a million miles away from the setting in that book, which is a crumbling castle atop a hill in the middle of nowhere.

“I’ve read a lot since then, but I Capture the Castle will always have a place in my heart. I have a giant castle tattooed on my leg because of that book.”

Realising that she wanted to crack the publishing industry, Candice worked her way up through a series of internships.

“Internships are always the answer, unless you have family or friends who work in publishing,” she says. “My first one was at Melville House when I was 23.

“After that I did a two-week internship at 4th Estate, and then got a job as a temporary editorial assistant at Vintage. I did that for six weeks and then 4th estate asked me to come back and be a marketing assistant.

“Marketing really felt like where my heart was at that time; it allowed me to be creative. I did that for two-and-a-half years and it was great – and then I came back to Vintage but in a different capacity.”

Now senior marketing executive at Vintage, Candice stresses that she focuses her attention on work by “underrepresented authors”. Indeed, while at 4th Estate, she was responsible for the creation – in 2016 – of the Guardian and 4th Estate BAME short story prize, a highly successful initiative that is still going strong. Previous winners of the prize include Lisa Smith for her story Auld Lang Syne, and Yiming Ma for his work Swimmer of Yangtze.

“I’d been in publishing for less than a year and realised the middle ground to getting your book published was having an agent,” Candice says as she explains the genesis of the initiative.

“I knew that there were loads of people who were really underrepresented in publishing – who didn’t know what agents were or didn’t have access to agents or the publishing industry.

“So I asked my boss if we could think about a short story prize so we could see what was out there. I thought if we couldn’t immediately publish some of these writers, then maybe we could help them get agents.

“I went away and I drew up a proposal, which I then had to pitch to the division and to the head of HarperCollins, which was terrifying.

“I think it was the first industry inclusion initiative and it was done on a budget of £48, to create a website so we could collect entries. I did all the sifting, through about 300 stories, and it was a great success.

“One of the stories I read was called Black Flag by Guy Gunaratne, who was just long-listed for the Booker prize. He thanked me in the back of his novel In Our Mad and Furious City.

“It is amazing to see the impact that the prize has had. It’s sad that it has to exist but good that it does, if you see what I mean.”

Having lived in a variety of south London locales, from Ladywell and Lewisham to Brixton, Streatham, Norbury and now leafy Herne Hill, Candice admits there is something in particular she misses about Lewisham.

“If there’s one thing I want to say and get into this interview somewhere, it’s that I love tower blocks,” she says.

“There are three that I love near to Lewisham Hospital, so I’ve worked them into Queenie. I find them really romantic.”

Candice pauses, before adding with a chuckle: “I don’t know how you’re going to work that into the article, but I think it’s important for people to know!”

Author Candice Carty- Williams' debut novel Queenie, published by Orion, is out now

[101percentindia]

How I Fell In Love And Jumped Into A Live-In With A Stranger In 7 Days

The lack of digital privacy and not respecting boundaries therein, led to the downfall of our relationship.

Part 1 - The Meeting I have been in a live-in relationship for two years. And now I’m mentally prepping myself for a two year long distance one. Sigh! Before I fret about the physical distance, let me flashback to the summer of 2016, the first time I met my boyfriend Sammy. I had moved to Bangalore in March 2016. It took us less than 7 days to meet and start living together. At first, we didn’t even label it live-in. It happened organically.

In the first few weeks, we were just too busy falling in love to care about anything else. Our first conversation was on WhatsApp and it was just a whole lot of small trying-to-test-the-waters talk. But from there on, we went into details about our individual professions, favourite musicians, raves, college life in Bombay, drugs, likes, dislikes, food, travel destinations, how we had possibly been at the same rave in 2011 and so on. We had been texting for 72 hours straight. This even included him giving me a wake up call.

He lived at the other end of the city, two hours away at his parents place, but his office was about 15 minutes away from me. He wanted to meet me after work. I decided to play difficult and claimed to be busy, while I was secretly lounging on my bed, listening to Glass Animals in my underwear.

I was mentally freaking out, but still super excited about this extremely random, addictive, new found connection. Maybe he was my twin flame. Freakishly enough, our relationship defined a lot of characteristics associated with a twin flame experience. At least according to the internet: Twin Flame - Unlike soul mates, twin flames are mirrors of ourselves. Twin flames experience intense passion, an instantaneous bond, a certain amount of intense pain looking into the eyes of your better (or other?) half and experiencing feelings of viewing them as a family member or your own child.

Whatever the label may be, this was a human connection I had never experienced before. Similar to a fantastic LSD trip.

Anyway we met. Dinner and drinks the night before a techno gig.

I told him he could stay at my place and he ought to carry some clothes with him. Sammy spent the next few hours on the phone with his best friend, debating whether I could be a serial killer or if this was just a one-off situation.

I walked into the restaurant wearing black tights, a black ganji, a multi-coloured tye-dye crop top pullover, paired with white Adidas sneakers. I had a tinge of lipstick on and my curls were let loose. I was ridiculously nervous. When I walked into the restaurant, Soum (Sammy) who had been waiting for 15 minutes, got up from the table. We grinned and gave each other an awkward, but enthusiastic half-hug.

As a journalist at a leading business daily, I tracked startups and technology companies out of Bangalore. But suddenly I found myself unable to accurately describe what I do, and all the characteristics that defined a startup versus any other company. We went from talking about startups to blowjobs, pork ribs, whiskey and dancing. Before I knew it, we were getting drinks, dancing to some techno and calling an Uber, planning to head home to my place. We smoked a doob and called it a night. Snuggling led to sex, after which he fell asleep.

Everything was happening too quickly.

I lay awake, staring at his face and then at the ceiling. I was petrified by all the emotions I was feeling. Was this a one night stand? Well, we still had the rave to go to the next day and he had no spare clothes.

Getting addicted. Image source: potentmedia.com

Everything was going unbelievably well. We were holding hands and acting like best friends who were falling in love. Later that night, our LSD trip ended with the music abruptly stopping in my room and us experiencing continuous “mindgasms” for three hours. Yes, no physical touching was required but it felt like our minds were fucking. It was overwhelming and more exhausting than physical fucking. We never experienced it again.  

By the third day, we were farting and burping in front of each other, like it was no big deal. He went home, hung with his parents, picked up his clothes and returned a day later. We were inseparable and addicted to spending time with each other. We were officially in a live-in relationship without realising it. Both of us yearned for office hours to end, so that we could be in the same room again. Hours went by where we just stared at each other or remained lost in conversation.

One month flew by and we were gushing to our friends about how beautiful our significant others were. We were madly in love, but there was one enormous problem lurking around the corner. We were in a relationship without actually really knowing each other!

The end? Image source: fax.al

Part 2 - The Dark Side of Love I lied about several tiny details from my past because of my own insecurities. The tiny details turned into a mountain of lies. However, I was honest with him about the fact that I had never been interested in relationships and flings usually worked for me. His entrance into my life was highly unexpected, but greatly appreciated. Sammy had been cheated on by his first lover during a long distance relationship. My lies only reinforced a strong level of distrust in him towards me.

While we lived together, I learnt more about myself than I ever had before. I realised that I didn't quite understand the concept of boundaries in a relationship. Boys whom I had slept with in the past were still very much a part of my life. Being in touch with exes did not seem to be a problem, till Sammy saw flirtatious messages being sent my way, which I often laughed off or ignored. Our relationship completely lacked digital privacy. Some of my lies were discovered when he was browsing through chats on my Whatsapp and Facebook account. I made it a point to read old messages between him and his ex lover and other women he had been flirtatious with. We were slowly killing the present with stories of our promiscuous past.

Digital privacy was one factor, but the first cracks in our relationship emerged because of my lies. There were days when it felt like Sammy’s trust in me was completely broken. Our relationship had transitioned from constant affection to days filled with screaming, angry rants, binge drinking, excessive smoking, blocking each other’s phone numbers during office hours, verbally abusing each other and so on. Sometimes our fights were so loud that the landlord and flat mates had to intervene. And Sammy being extremely short tempered scared the shit out of me.

Emotional shitstorm. Image source: videoblocks.com

I began undoing my lies, but he was too angry by now. Everything was up and down. We spent nights crying and hating each other, despite still having days where we fucked four times a day. It was emotional chaos. I realised that my initial commitment phobia, along with the fear of him losing interest in the “real me” had led me to lie about the little things that I hated about myself. We broke up a million times and were constantly at each other’s throats. But we never left each other. Our relationship had all the signs of a classic abusive relationship.

Oddly enough, while my relationship hit rock bottom, my career was at an all time peak. I was breaking important news stories every week and the editors at my workplace were really starting to take notice of my work. Luckily for me, my absence from work was regarded as a young journalist being extremely busy with breaking news stories, developing secret sources and attending high profile meetings. In reality, I was most likely crying under my blanket after a terrible fight or getting high as a kite while smoking a bong.

Our lives together often felt like a recurring nightmare. The only peace and quiet we ever got was when we slept. Consciously or unconsciously we hugged each other tightly and slept through the night. Prior to meeting each other, neither of us were inclined towards any kind of body hugging while asleep. But somehow, sleeping in each other’s arms every night was something that happened automatically. Sometimes we would suddenly wake up in the morning, finding ourselves in each other’s arms. Then, one of us would snarl at the other and push away the individual, while remembering a fight from the previous night.

Then one day, I decided I had had enough. I packed my bags without informing Sammy and caught the first flight to Bombay, while he was in office. I sent him a long text before I boarded the flight, informing him that I was terribly hurt and had to go home and be around people I missed and loved. Before I knew it, he was going crazy. All he could keep saying was, “How could she leave me?” while he bawled on the phone to my best friend, pleading for me to return to Bangalore, promising that we would start afresh.

Alone again. Image source: YouTube.com

Part 3 – The Breakup I returned home to my friends in Bombay and I was a complete mess. At first, I kept my phone switched off so he couldn’t reach me, but at the same time I ached to be back with him and make things work. After all, neither of us had fallen this madly in love with another person. Despite having run away, I knew I loved him and I longed to return to him. The day I left Bombay, was the day he flew to be with his best friend in Delhi. He claimed he did not know how to be in the same city without me. I understood that perfectly. I spent some time in Bombay with my closest friends. Over what felt like a hundred conversations in ten days and four flights back and forth between Bombay and Bangalore, we finally figured it out.

Acceptance and forgiveness was key, besides letting go of our past. Never again was I going to lie about stupid shit that made me insecure. If there was one thing we knew was real, it was the love we had for each other.

I came back to Bangalore and slowly learnt the importance of self love. He learnt how to control his temper and be calm. Every time we neared a disagreement about something irrelevant, one of us would laugh it off and hug the other or would walk into a separate room for a few minutes and cool off. We knew our arguments were not worth it. We were better than that. We had to be. The next four months we saw our fights go down dramatically. We went from fighting once a day to once a week, soon it was once a month, then suddenly there were no more fights. The fights were slowly replaced with laughs, giggles, hugs, kisses and sex a couple times a week, while we focused on our personal goals and ambitions.

Moving in. Image source: bymovers.com

Part 4 - A Long Distance Relationship We went from living in a 3BHK with two other flatmates for over a year to renting out our first home together. That was no easy task. We met several brokers, most of whom told us to lie to the landlords, telling them we were engaged or married, otherwise we were not going to get a home. At first, we decided we wanted to be honest and tell them we were an unmarried couple, living together. That didn’t work out too well. We saw far too many rejections and eventually decided we would tell people we were engaged and would be married in one year. That worked.

We moved into a new home. After having spent one year obsessing over each other, it was time to go back to focusing on honing our individual skills and pursuing things we were passionate about, while being supportive of each other. The only kind of arguments we had were about the dirty dishes in the kitchen on a Sunday evening, clothes from the washing machine not being hung out to dry, serving dinner after work – all of the bickering typically associated with a married couple. We were truly at peace with each other.

I started taking yoga seriously and began working out. We made time for our girl and guy friends, having a girls or boys night out. There were long weekends when we took a trip together or just stayed in bed all day having a movie marathon, eating junk, smoking and having incredible sex. We no longer obsessively checked each others cellphones. Communicating with friends or acquaintances of the opposite sex was not equivalent to cheating on each other.

At peace. Image source: YouTube.com

Everything was perfect. We would dream of a future settling down in Bangalore. I loved travelling and having a father who had grown up in five different countries and travelled across the world, I yearned to live in different countries at some point too. Once Sammy realised I was serious about it, he decided to contact international recruiters. I was thrilled! In the last few weeks, a highly lucrative job offer came up from Singapore, which included being based out of Singapore and travelling across Southeast Asia on work, accompanied with a six figure annual salary. This meant he would have to leave before I had any solid plans of studying. After a lot of urging on my part, he finally accepted the offer.

Transitioning from a live-in to a long distance relationship is no easy task. The one way I plan to cope with it is through embracing the new experiences and learnings that come my way and by constantly keeping myself occupied reading, writing, learning different subjects, exercising and exploring new music. We have made a pact to meet once in four months so we have something to look forward to, besides weekly FaceTime video calls and texting, sharing photos through the day whenever we get the chance to do so.

We have convinced each other that this is only temporary and that we will get married in the next two years. For now I am going to be optimistic about the new, independent adventures that lie ahead of us, before we come together again. I promise to return with an update on our relationship status in 2020!

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are independent views solely of the author(s) expressed in their private capacity and do not in any way represent or reflect the views of 101india.com

By Sasha Klaatu Cover photo credit: collegetimes.com

[hardcheapknock-blog]

We did it! We passed the time for 50 days by providing memorable Star Wars related content for you the humble and gorgeous viewer(s). Holy craps what a ride. Well, we are on day zero and probably have seen or are seeing The Last Jedi as we speak. So for now here is some bonus goodness from some of our beloved authors before we go on a much needed holiday hiatus and Last Jedi binge. See you in 2018!

Gundy

The Audacity of A New Hope

Our 50-Day Countdown was really tough. What really surprised me about my performance during the countdown is I never really ran into a creative block. My biggest challenge was finding the time to do what I wanted in the time allotted. If it became clear that I would not have enough time to create the post I wanted, I somehow found a way to post something faster to buy myself extra time.

Each of us had to publish every four days, and with each other as our own best critics, the posts had to be solid. JERMAINE SOLID.

Sometimes an idea hit me and I had it turned around in 24 hours: “Rey Mind Trick“, “Midichlorox“, and “Chalmun’s Cantina Sippy Cups” are good examples of this. One post, “‘Made To Suffer’ by Guest Artist Edvard Munch“, actually happened by accident and I just followed it to the new conclusion which was really fun!

The Red Arm Diaries

C-3PO’s red arm was a source of hilariousness for me. It’s absurd how it is introduced, made to be an object of mystery and speculated upon, and then by the end of The Force Awakens, replaced with the normal, gold arm.

I’d planned to focus almost entirely on the Red Arm in a series called “The Red Arm Diaries”. This would include equally-absurd theories of how the red arm came to be. Yes, I am aware that the real story behind the red arm is out there to be discovered, but the average movie-goer isn’t going to do that. I had planned to create one-page vignettes around what transpired between Episode 6 and 7 that could account for the red arm.

In the end, I only did one comic, “Reunite Us, Interruptus“. I’m not sure if I got tired of drawing old Goldenrod or just lost faith in the idea. The other ideas that I did make a priority are still things I’m very happy with. In general, I just wish I’d done more comics.

The Reject Pile

Here are some ideas I decided NOT to do…

“The Red Missile”

I had the idea for a short comic where “Holiday Special” Boba Fett’s backpack missile kept getting him in trouble whenever he wanted to rent a creature to ride – by accidentally firing and choking them. So he’d have a reputation for just being a lousy customer and not the bounty hunter everyone fears him as.

In starting the research, it made me really sad to hear about all of the incidents in the 70s that led to toys no longer being able to fire missiles on which children can choke. So I scrapped that idea. I really wanted to make that pop culture reference work, but not on the backs of dead children. Well, this time.

“The Shortest Fan Cut of ANH”

I thought it would be funny to show how simple things would be if R2-D2 had simply started flying as he did in Attack of the Clones but in A New Hope.

So, the droids land of Tatooine… C-3PO mounts up on R2, they bypass the jawas and the Lars farm and simply fly to Obi Wan’s hermit hut. They fly to Mos Eisley and hire Han and Chewie AND they are able to arrive on Alderaan before it blows up! Later, they simply mount a bomb on him and send him into the exhaust port, flying, kamikaze-style. The end.

“A Christmas Falcon”

I have a lot of great photos from my childhood, opening Star Wars toys on Christmas morning, wearing Star Wars pajamas. I just couldn’t think of a way to make that slice of nostalgia into a post.

Yeah! The Imperial Troop Transport!

Christmas Falcon! PJs!

Whoa, how did this get in there!

Thanks for reading!

Samson

It really doesn’t surprise me anymore about how much back story can be created pertaining to the most random stuff in A New Hope. Case in point, the large skeleton of some beast that roamed the Dune Sea of Tatooine, which 3PO just happened to walk by, in search of rescue. I don’t know when they first started calling it a Krayt Dragon. It must have be a while back ago, cause when I was looking up images of the skeleton, I knew to look up “Krayt Dragon.” Apparently they are the apex predators of Tatooine. Too bad we didn’t see a living one in the film take down a Bantha or some Jawas.

My problem isn’t so much with all the back story stuff, be it official or fan fiction. My problem is with all the art being created hypothesizing what the creature actually looked like in the flesh. All the renderings pretty much show a traditional, elongated dragon head complete with horns around the back of the head. Even Terryl Whitlatch, who designed a lot of the creatures for Episode I, drew her dragon with fairly long snout. I really love the illustration, but that skull just doesn’t match the source material. If you look at the skull in the film, it’s a stubby head with no horns. It almost looks like a Camarasaurus (sauropod dinosaur) head, but with pointy, needle teeth. The only illustration that comes close to the skeleton on film is a painting by Ralph McQuarrie depicting two sand people hunting a Krayt Dragon. I think it was part of the original pitch art he created for Uncle George, but I’m not entirely sure about that. It may have been done much later for some book, regardless the head on this dragon looks rather stubby. Either way, there sure is a crap load of stuff for a background skeleton that only appears for a few seconds on screen. But that’s the appeal of Star Wars. All these little details, bringing the world to life, that people will obsess over and latch onto… even 40 years later.

FlippyCrap™®

Counting down origin

Well a quick tale of truth is 2 years ago I decided to countdown the days till The Force Awakens by myself despite Phil Collin’s song Against All Odds. Well take a look at me now Phil! I started at 100. That’s one more bottle of beer on the wall per the song and I don’t even drink! And without any preparation or knowledge of Star Wars(lie). Yeah in retrospect it was a crazy venture seeing how there is life. But I went with it. Using facebook as my vehicle of display, each day I posted something new. In the beginning it was just me googling the hell out of SW related items and trying to find the funniest or most interesting ones. But then I started to actually create my own. It seemed more ownable and frankly the kids (7-12 friends) loved it.

Some of those “classic” ones were inserted into this countdown because dammit I could do what I want. Those were The Star Wars Halloween Special (day 45) and Thanksgiving message from the bounty hunters (Day 22). But the rest were new, fresh and stupid! Just don’t forget to tell Kanjiklub!

So short, long story brief, my colleagues at HardCheapKnock decided to do one together for The Last Jedi. This way it was not as daunting with multi folks on it. In truth it still was tough but we frickin’ did it!

Writers notes

Some of the inspiration behind my posts:

Yoda’s Suffering (day 35) – this was intended to be a message about the struggles of children in Uganda. You should read about it on the web if you have time.

Not again Threepio NSFE (day 35) – again about Uganda

Walrus Man Discount Replacement Limb or Other Club (day 2) – This one took about a month to do. Mainly the drawings of every body and part. Actually I had this mostly done before we even started the countdown. Just tweaking it along the way.

Utini Speeder Wreckers (day 15) – This was a homage to a local CHICAGO TV commercial from the early 90’s. Took about 2 weeks to do. And if you think the quality looks shitty that was the intention so wah! Here are some clean behind the scenes photos then jerks.

Anyways God bless you if you sneezed within the hour (otherwise this is void). And God bless Star Wars.

As a reminder although the countdown is over you have 11 more days to enter the: LAST JEDI COUNTDOWN CONTEST! We are giving away a $100 Dollar Fandango Gift Card!!! We know you are going to see The Last Jedi…so we want to buy your second, third or fourth viewings! So it’s quite easy to play. You can do one or all of the following for a chance to win:

Visit Hard Cheap Knock on Facebook

Follow us on Pinterest

Follow @hardcheapknock on Twitter

Post a tweet

List the hidden numbers you found throughout the countdown – HINT there are 7 of them!

All of the above options must be activated through the fancy little entry form below:

Entry-Form

  The more options you do the more your chance of winning increases! Enter today through December 25, 2017. Must be 18 years old to play and be a resident of the USA. For full official rules click here. 

0 Days to The Last Jedi! We did it! We passed the time for 50 days by providing memorable Star Wars related content for you the humble and gorgeous viewer(s).

[i-am-very-very-tired]

The Confessions of a Video Vixen Interview by Kam Williams

When I first interviewed her a couple of years ago, Karrine Steffans was making the transition from Hip-Hop ho to legitimate Hollywood actress. She was then enjoying her big screen debut as Larenz Tate's wife in A Man Apart, an action-adventure flick starring Vin Diesel. During that tame tete-a-tete, she never let on about the sordid, suicidal, sexually-depraved, alcohol and drug-addicted life she had been leading, despite being a single-mom. Nor did she discuss bottoming-out after an overdose which left her broke, blacklisted and living in a car with her little boy.Because Karrine was such a shameless name-dropper, I distinctly remember repeatedly asking her about all of her famous friends. But every inquiry led to a very dull dead-end. Now, she has just published a tell-all autobiography, Confessions of a Video Vixen, which sits high atop most best seller lists. In it, she admits to sleeping with Puff Daddy, DMX, Xzibit, Jay-Z, Ja Rule, Doctor Dre, Ice-T, Bobby Brown, Usher, Shaquille O'Neal and Vin Diesel, to name a few.So, I figured it was high time I track Karrine down again to find out why she lied to me the first go-round. Furthermore, I needed to get the lowdown on what life in the fast lane had been like for this naughty girl affectionately referred to as "Superhead" by the gangsta rappers and the rest of the long list of famous lovers who shared her bed.

KW: Why were you so very tight-lipped about the nature of your relationships with all the celebrities you knew the first time we spoke? KS: Well, that wasn't the appropriate time. We were talking about A Man Apart. Everything has its own time and space. And there are some people that I mention in Confessions, and some that I still didn't.

KW: Yeah, like in the book, you hid the identity of a very famous lover of yours you called Papa. Care to share his name now?

KS: I'm still not going to tell you.

KW: Why not, when you've confessed to sleeping with so many others?

KS: At this point it's inappropriate, because of a promise I made to him that he would remain anonymous.

KW: How about a hint?

KS: What I will say for my readers is that Confessions has a really big clue about who he is.

KW: What has been the reaction of the lovers you did name to the book?

KS: There's been no reaction. The celebrities named in the book are fine.It's kind of surprised me that people find what I said so amazing, because people who are inside of the industry know all the stuff that I could've said.

KW: But let's take someone like Ja Rule, who has a wife and kids. I would imagine that he might be very upset.

KS: I'm sure it's uncomfortable. But, no, he's not upset. This is not news to him, or his wife, or his family. It's not like his wife just found out.She knows her husband and that I was not the only girl. He had hundreds at that time, and I'm sure thousands over the years as he traveled the world.So, it's not like anyone's surprised, even if it's uncomfortable.

KW: Do you have any misgivings about tarnishing the image of so many icons?KS: I'm surprised that people think they’re important. To me they’re not.They’re just people you run across. The names I gave away in Vixen are throwaway names. They’re nobodies compared to who else I have in my phone book.

KW: Like who?

KS: There are some people who are very powerful who I will never name, because I want to be able to work in this town when I'm done. That's why it's easy to give you throwaway names like Jay-Z. I'm not in the music business. I don't work for Def Jam.

KW: So, you see Jay-Z as a nobody?

KS: Not that he's a nobody, just nobody special.

KW: Did you mean to imply that Puff Daddy, I mean, Diddy and Xzibit are gay when you mentioned their taking you to a gay nightclub?

KS: I'm not implying anything. That was an experience of mine. I'm just saying what happened and what was said. Any conclusions would have to be drawn by the readers.

KW: Did you really sleep with Vin Diesel? I've interviewed him several times, and he's always sounded like such a gentleman. He even told me he wasn't a womanizer, but that he was saving himself for the right woman.

KS: [laughs] Really? That's a load of [expletive]. He wasn't saving himself when I was with him. It bothers me that people find it necessary to paint pictures. Truth and honesty is my thing.

KW: I'm gonna ask him about you the next time I speak to him. Why did you put so many sexy photos of yourself scantily-clad in the book, if you've put that lifestyle behind you?

KS: I'm not uncomfortable about anything I've put in the book. It's just the truth. Those pictures are fine. They’re pictures from my past, of things that I have done with people I have known. They’re from stages of my life, and all of that is relevant to this book.

KW: The nicest picture is the one of you and your son, Naiim. Was he scarred by all the two of you went through? How is he doing?

KS: All these things happened a long time ago. My son is seven, and he doesn't remember any of that stuff. For the last four years, he's spent every day with me. Thankfully, I got my wild ways over with while he was still basically a newborn. He was two and three years-old.

KW: Is there any truth to the rumor that you're now dating Bill Maher of Politically Incorrect?

KS: Absolutely.

KW: How is that relationship?

KS: Wonderful! It's the best I've ever had?

KW: Does he have a good relationship with your son, too?

KS: Nope. They don't have one. They don't need one. It's unnecessary. Why would I introduce my son to a man I've only known for four months, no matter how great the relationship is. If Bill and I are together half a year, maybe I'll consider it. But even then, it's still dating. There's no need for them to meet each other.

KW: So, does your son then have a relationship with that rapper who's his biological father?

KS: They don't have a relationship. They don't know each other. They never have.

KW: Do you consider yourself totally through with that self-destructive lifestyle?KS: I haven't spoken to any of those people, for the most part, for over four years. There are some I'm still cool with. We’ll see each other and speak, say, ’How you doin’?’ and keep going.

KW: What enabled you to move on from playing the party girl?

KS: Most people grow. The person you're reading about in that book is 21.I'm 27 now. You would hope that I would grow and expand and change just from the natural progression of life. And that's what I've done.

KW: Why kiss and tell?

KS: It was easy for me to write about it, because I'm so far removed from that character. The person I was in that book was a character. She's not even who I am today. People who know me, recognize a definite difference in my poise and in my personality, because I've grown.

KW: I agree you don't sound like the same person, but maybe you had drug problems when I spoke to you.

KS: At that time, no. I was already out of that lifestyle by the time I talked to you.

KW: Have you burned too many bridges to return to acting?

KS: No, I have no interest in it at all. It doesn't move me whatsoever.

KW: Why not?

KS: Because I'm a power fanatic. I like to own things, and have them be mine. Acting doesn't belong to you, if you're not the writer or the director.

KW: So, what will you work on next, then?

KS: The movie version of this book. They’re bidding on the rights to it right now.KW: You recently had a tiff with Tyra Banks during the taping of her new talk show. Do you care to share your side of it?

KS: There are a few things that tend to infuriate me. One is ignorance, because I have become accustomed to speaking to very intelligent people like Gore Vidal and Al Franken on a regular basis, since dating Bill Maher.Therefore, when I'm in an interview with someone who is not intelligent, but flat-out ignorant, idiotic and stupid, or just an ass, it really gives me a headache.

KW: So, how do you deal with jerks like that?

KS: I've walked out on interviews, when they’re so beneath me and what I'm trying to say. And then there are people like Tyra who are hypocrites. Women especially, who have slept their way through their whole careers. And it's not a secret within the Hollywood circle.

KW: So, Tyra's been around the block.

KS: I've always heard about it from men we've both slept with.

KW: I'd think that the two of you should have had a great conversation in that case, swapping stories.

KS: No, not 15 years later, now that she has her own talk show where she's well-groomed, all made up, and has on a $5,000 wig. don't get me wrong, Tyra's done well for herself. You have to applaud her for all that she's achieved, coming from that model world, and expanding, which is wonderful.But let's not pretend that you haven't done some of the people and things that I've done.

KW: So, Tyra didn't want to ’fess up?

KS: Anyone in that position, in an interviewer's position, to do it well, should always remain objective. That's part of the job.

KW: So, you feel that she attacked you instead of interviewing you?

KS: When someone talks to me, and they’re personally attacking me, because there's someone in my book that she's been with, because of the people that she's slept with that we have in common. When you're making me seem like the bad one, like only I've slept around, like only I've dated famous people, then I find it necessary to say what you've done. We should just be honest.

KW: So, she made it personal?

KS: Yeah, and then I felt the need to get personal back.

KW: So, are you saying Tyra slept her way to the top?

KS: I have a list of names of people that she's been with, including women.Let's not go there, because I am the truth-teller. And I'll tell it all. So, hopefully, she realizes that now, and she’ll stay clear out of my way.

KW: Do you hope your book will warn young girls of the sexual exploitation, drugs and other pitfalls of appearing in gangsta’ videos which await them when they arrive in Hollywood.

KS: Yes, that's what's happening. Girls are getting it. They’re understanding that the life they thought existed in Hollywood doesn't really exist. It just doesn't. I'm not just saying that because my past is a little skewed and I had a hard time. Even now that my life is great, and I'm way better off physically, financially and emotionally, I can still look at it and say, this place is such bull-[expletive]! And it is.

KW: Where do you go from here, professionally?

KS: I'm just going to continue what I've been doing, which is writing. The next book is the paperback version of Confessions, which will have more information. Then, I'm writing a novel for next summer, I believe. And I'll continue to write. I already started a book on relationships, on being a woman, and how we mess up our relationships trying to be too independent. I am a writer. Video Vixen was not a fluke. This is what I do, and it's my job now.

[junker-town]

The best WTF moments from an entertaining Week 3 in the NFL

The Lions and Falcons gave us an unforgettable ending, while Von Miller was flagged for a silly joke that ended up costing the Broncos.

Week 3 in the NFL was easily the best we have seen so far in the young season. The thriller we got on Thursday night between the Rams and 49ers seemed like it would be the most exciting game all week. Instead, it was merely a hint of what would come.

On Sunday, most of the attention around the NFL was on the protests. But on the field, the games themselves had a little bit of everything. There were close finishes, unlikely heroes, plays we had never seen before, penalties we had never seen before, and even better games.

There was so much fun football that we decided to highlight the weirdest of what we saw. Because a Sunday as good as this deserves recognition — especially for those who might have missed it.

The Falcons�� walk-off win by 10-second runoff

The Falcons-Lions matchup was the week’s only battle between two 2-0 teams, and the game lived up to its promise. The Falcons looked great overall and never trailed all game, but the Lions wouldn’t go away.

The Lions got the ball back, down four with just over two minutes to go — aka, Matthew Stafford’s time to shine. Stafford had an NFL-record eight fourth-quarter comebacks last year and already put together one this season against the Cardinals. And just like those other times, Stafford led the Lions right down the field. It appeared he connected with Golden Tate for a touchdown to win it with eight seconds left, but the call was overturned.

It’s a slightly complicated rule, but because the call was overturned with less than 10 seconds left in the game, the Falcons won. The Lions could have saved themselves with a timeout, but were out of them, so the 10-second runoff rule went into effect.

Even stranger, the play came on the five-year anniversary of Tate’s Fail Mary touchdown when he was with the Seahawks.

Even stranger-er, but not really related except in a Murphy’s Law way, the Lions’ food caught on fire after the game.

The game was as entertaining as any on Sunday, and it’s clear these are two of the more talented teams in the NFC.

The Bears and Steelers had a wild ending to the first half

The Chicago Bears, at 0-2, weren’t expected to beat the 2-0 Steelers. But in the first half, the Bears looked like the better team. Then disaster almost struck right before halftime.

The Bears were up a touchdown and then came up with a huge play to extend their lead: they blocked Chris Boswell’s 35-yard field goal attempt. Marcus Cooper then scooped it and had the clearest of paths to the end zone. However, he slowed up, and the Steelers tight end Vance McDonald was able to catch him and chop the ball out of his hands.

After the ball was knocked loose in the end zone, Steelers punter Jordan Berry committed an illegal bat. At first, the officials said the half was over, and the Steelers started heading for the locker room.

After a review, the officials then decided the illegal bat would be enforced on the 1-yard line, giving the Bears an untimed down. So Steelers players had to run back onto the field for the down.

The Bears were set up with a golden opportunity to go up two touchdowns, but committed a false start, moving them back 5 yards. So instead of going for the touchdown, they opted for a field goal to make it a 17-7 game at the half.

Fortunately for the Bears, it didn’t end up costing them the game.

In overtime, Tarik Cohen looked like he scored a zig-zagging 73-yard touchdown. But it was called back when the review showed he stepped out at 37-yard line.

Jordan Howard put the game to bed two plays later with a 19-yard run.

Howard and Cohen led the way for the Bears all game, with a combined 35 carries for 216 yards on the ground and two touchdowns. They also led the team in receiving with a combined nine catches for 50 yards. In fact, only one wide receiver caught any passes for the Bears: Deonte Thompson, who hauled in one catch for 9 yards.

Rookie Deshaun Watson almost topped Tom Brady

The Texans lost 36-33, but fans have every reason to be optimistic about the future of the team with Deshaun Watson behind center.

Watson didn’t exactly hang with Brady step for step, but few quarterbacks can do that. The rookie finished with a respectable 301 yards, two touchdowns, and two interceptions (including a failed Hail Mary attempt at the end).

Winning at Foxborough is hard enough, but Watson nearly pulled off the impossible: no opposing rookie quarterback has ever won at Gillette Stadium in the Bill Belichick era. Watson showed remarkable poise, once again, despite an offensive line that’s less than consistent. He took two sacks and was hit by New England six times. But he still managed to extend plays when he needed to, and made some tough throws under pressure.

And the Texans almost won. On the Patriots’ final drive, Brady was sacked and fumbled the ball, which was recovered by a teammate. Then Texans safety Corey Moore dropped a would-be interception. Those were all the chances Houston would get. Brady pulled off the game-winning drive with his fifth touchdown of the day, a 25-yard sideline kisser to Brandin Cooks with 23 seconds left.

This was the third time in the past year the Texans have lost to the Patriots, but it was the closest game yet. Houston’s defense is still a force. And on Sunday, Watson looked like the offensive key the team has been lacking.

Eagles rookie Jake Elliott made a 61-yard field goal to beat the Giants

Elliott, who had just been signed by the Eagles a couple weeks ago, found himself in a high-pressure situation as the clock was winding down Sunday against the Giants.

For the win, the Eagles would need Elliott to convert a 61-yarder. No big deal — that was only the longest field goal in the history of Century Link Field. Well, for Elliott, it wasn’t a big deal. He drilled it.

It was just inside the uprights, which is understandable for an attempt that long. But you don’t get extra style points or anything for a more decisive field goal. The Eagles got the 27-24 win, thanks to Elliott’s leg.

Aaron Rodgers gets his first win over the Bengals AND his first OT win

Rodgers is one of the best quarterbacks in the league, but somehow, he had never notched an overtime win in his career. He had never had a win over the Bengals before, either. That changed on Sunday, when Rodgers orchestrated a late-game comeback, tying the game on a touchdown pass to Jordy Nelson with less than a minute to play.

There’s nothing unusual about that. But then it wasn’t Nelson or Davante Adams who put the Packers in a position to win in overtime. It was a 72-yard pass to Geronimo Allison, an undrafted free agent in 2016 who was filling in for an injured Randall Cobb. And it was on a free play — the Bengals were called for offsides on the play, which the Packers obviously declined. Kicker Mason Crosby was able to knock in a 26-yard chip shot, and the three points gave Green Bay a 27-24 win.

Rodgers is unmatched when it comes to free plays and catching opponents with 12 men on the field. He did it again Sunday. Bengals cornerback William Jackson was flagged as he was airborne, literally jumping off of the field to avoid a penalty. The problem is that a player is considered to be on the field even if he’s in the air, so Rodgers’ ploy worked.

Now, Rodgers has at least one win over the 31 other teams in the NFL.

Von Miller’s “too slow” move hurt the Broncos’ chances to beat the Bills

The Broncos losing to the Bills is weird enough. But if you ask superstar Von Miller who’s to blame for the loss, it’s him. Huh?

Well, Miller pulled the ol’ “too slow” move on Bills quarterback Tyrod Taylor, which seemed silly enough to laugh off:

But the refs flagged Miller for unsportsmanlike conduct and it cost the Broncos 15 yards and gave the Bills a fresh set of downs. The Bills would have been forced to punt and the Broncos, down just seven points, would have gotten the ball back with more than seven minutes remaining. Instead, the Bills ate up clock and added a field goal with 3:14 left in the game.

Afterward, Miller owned up to his mistake.

“I can’t put my team in a situation like that,” Miller said, via the team’s official website. “I’ve brought us home 50 million times. I’ve closed games 50 million times. I’ve got to be smarter than that. I’m always on the rookies and all the young guys on being smart and doing this and doing that, and I go out there and do something like that in a crucial situation in the game. I’ve just got to be better than that.”

The penalty was costly, but it’s hard to fault Miller too much when he totaled six tackles and a sack in the game. And even Taylor knew the flag was a little ridiculous:

Tyrod Taylor laughing about Von Miller's penalty...says they are friends and he didn't know there would be a flag. Take a listen @WGRZ http://pic.twitter.com/V6GB5ji08G

— Heather Prusak (@haprusak) September 25, 2017

Here are a few of our other favorite moments from Week 3:

This Bills touchdown was the best mistake

The Jaguars were up 37-0 and still roasted the Ravens with a fake punt

DeShone Kizer’s mom got videobombed by a Browns fan practicing his sensual air guitar

Tony Romo predicts the future again on a run play in Bengals vs. Packers

Aaron Rodgers wants the Packers to know this was a “stupid f***ing call”

Terrelle Pryor took out a camera guy and a kicking net on a 12-yard catch