#it’s such a sweet coming of age film and it’s usually hard to access

[yellowjacketslesbian]

this is a VERY important PSA for all lesbians and sapphics that the incredibly true adventures of two girls in love (1995) is on netflix!!! it’s quite literally one of THE best and most underrated lesbian coming of age films

please take this opportunity to watch it!

[jfashioncen]

How Kamikaze Girls (2004) Revolutionized Lolita

INTRODUCTION

Kamikaze Girls is a Japanese dramedy film released in 2004 based off of the 2002 light novel written by author and fashion designer, Novala Takemoto.

The story revolves around the unlikely bond formed between two high school girls: Momoko Ryugasaki, a lolita who is the daughter of a ex-gangster whom now gets along by scamming people with fake name brand items, and Ichigo "Ichiko" Shirayuri, a ヤンキー (Yankii, a young delinquent) from a motorcycle gang whom Momoko considers to be something of her antithesis.

They come to befriend each other after Ichiko gets impressed by the skills of Momoko's father's "business" as Momoko decides to sell some of her father's product off in order to be able to afford a dress from her favorite brand, Baby the Star's Shine Bright. The story itself follows the development of their friendship and their journey of self-discovery.

DESCRIPTION

In my opinion, the entirety of the story hinges on the fashion aspect. Momoko's ambitions begin from the fact that she lives in a small town known as Shimotsuma with around no one else her age or any interests like her--namely her obsession with the Rococo fashion era and thus lolita itself. She longs to not have to travel so far and extensively to reach her favorite brand's store and someone to share her interests with. This alongside her want of obtaining a new piece brings Momoko to meet Ichiko and what subconsciously makes her want to keep her around even though they appear opposites. The scene where Momoko twirls around in Baby the Star's Shine Bright's Elizabeth one piece in the red colorway really stood out me with the way it's had an outlasting on the lolita community.

To add a little bit of context, the way that lolita works as a fashion industry is that usually a new line/design is announced and preorders open for a limited amount of time, usually around 2-3 days. From there after preorders end and the dress is released, if they're extras that weren't preordered they go live on the website and placed within the physical store.

The thing about this process is that lolita lines rarely ever get a second drop, and if they do, it is usually on a strictly made to order basis for their most popular products. This causes the second hand market for lolita to really thrive and when people either move away from lolita as a fashion or are looking to make space in their wardrobe, they turn to second hand websites such as Mercari to sell them. And due to the process I described above, people are very eager to buy because that way they get access to releases from years ago that they weren't around for. With Momoko's almost entire wardrobe consisting of various classic Baby pieces, people are always eager to look for the pieces she has worn but especially so with the Elizabeth dress. Due to this, it rarely is sold off unless the person is looking to leave lolita. And if it's in the signature red as she wore it, it tends to price for large amounts.

Not only has she altered the way second hand items are valued and sold, she has also immortalized what's known as the classic and sweet style of lolita. With the rise of various new subgenres of lolita, Momoko's influence via the various coordinations within Kamikaze Girls keeps the original style of lolita fresh and attractive for many newer lolitas to still appreciate and enjoy. Just like Momoko, my favorite brand is also Baby the Star's Shine Bright and I'm a huge fan of the princess style that lolita encompasses. This connection that we share allows me to understand not only her feelings about isolation with how hard it is to meet others like her, but also the way she expresses herself via her identity as a lolita. Particularly, how much it means to her to be able to at least project parts of her personality onto others just by walking next to them. And even the way she's able to catch the attention of her first friend, Ichiko, from it as well.

ANALYSIS

Kamikaze Girls perfectly captures the feelings of isolation people feel when they're stuck in the small town they were born in, with no one around them that understands them. In this particular angle, Momoko uses her love of Rococo era fashion in order to let herself be heard--even if the only people hearing her are the older people in her town that coo over her eccentric style of dress.

Lolita has a subtle feminist aspect to it as it's meant for the wearer to embrace their own identity and reject the harsh stereotypes of what beauty is for a woman as defined by the patriarchy. Kamikaze Girls as a movie centering around lolita is no different. Although there are a couple of male characters around, it becomes clear that not only are they not the focus but neither is the hypothetical male viewer as the story is about the ways in which Ichiko and Momoko grows as individuals and use their fashion to express themselves and that growth.

CONCLUSION

Momoko's whimsical yet strong nature is portrayed through the shape of her dress, the lace of her parasol, and even the rocking horse shoes she walks miles in just to reach Shibuya from her small countryside town. However, with the way she stays true to herself and the voice she's crafted for herself through fashion, she befriends Ichiko. From there, her strong sense of self even helps Ichiko gain a stronger sense of self to the point that Ichiko begins modeling for a lolita brand herself by the end of the film. I 100% recommend the film, especially as a fun way to introduce yourself to lolita and japanese fashion subcultures as a whole. It's campy, it's funny, it's inspiring, and a pretty quick watch !

[flowesona]

Wicker Man - yandere! jungkook x reader

so my child @babeejk​ wanted a y! sugar daddy jungkook, and i live for nothing if not to fulfil her jungkook obsession so here we are. 

word count: 2.1k

pairing: y! jungkook x gn! reader

Most people (Y/N)’s age would spend their Friday night partying, hanging out with friends, trying new things. But (Y/N) was spending the best days of their life entertaining a young, rich CEO who would no doubt dump them for a new pretty face in a few years.

Jungkook was a sweet gentleman. Always made payments on time, and usually never pushed the boundaries. But there were instances where his hands crept a little too far for (Y/N)’s liking, or his grip on (Y/N)’s arm got a little too tight in the presence of his friends.

He was peaceful enough that Friday night, having ordered takeout for the two of them and put on a movie. Clearly, he needed the company of (Y/N) more than their body as most of their previous sugar daddies had coveted.

With (Y/N) placing their plate down onto the coffee table and relaxing into his arms to watch the movie, it was almost like they were dating. Jungkook didn’t dare push this idea often, happy to stick to the simple domesticity they had as if they were already in love and nothing needed to be said.

He pressed a kiss on the back of (Y/N)’s neck, enjoying the fleeting feeling of his lips on their skin. 

“You seem tired, baby. Want to go to bed?” The film was reaching its climax, but (Y/N)’s eyes were barely able to stay open.

“Mmmmm.” They replied, not protesting as he lifted them like a bride and carried them into his room to rest on his king sized bed.

(Y/N) had allowed a gentle smile to settle on their lips, their eyes having drifted closed. Jungkook settled himself beside them, feeling equally as at peace.

“I wish every night could be like this.” He mused allowed. “Would you like that, baby?”

(Y/N) was only his for two nights a week - Fridays and Saturdays, wherein he would often have them stay for the night.

“Mmmmm.” (Y/N) gave an ambiguous grumble as he hooked his arms around their chest to spoon them.

“Really? I can’t wait, baby. I love you, so much.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The morning after, (Y/N) woke up to an empty bed. Unusual, considering that Jungkook loved to wake up beside them and talk in the morning. Brushing that aside they stood up and padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Jungkook was seated at the counter, glasses perched on his nose and his laptop in front of him next to a steaming cup of hot water (allegedly, it had health benefits but (Y/N) had never understood it).

“Good morning, baby.” Jungkook had a bright smile, beckoning them to join him at the counter. (Y/N) followed his instructions, hopping onto the stool beside him and leaning on his shoulder in a move they knew he adored.

“I’ve been working hard for you this morning, baby. You know, I want to get this done as soon as possible so we can be together.”

“That’s good.” (Y/N) hummed in reply.

“How do you feel about the moving company getting there at two today? That’ll give us time to have lunch on the way.” Jungkook ran his hand down their arm, soothing them as he noticed how they tensed up.

“What?” 

“So you can move in, baby. Of course, you don’t have to bring everything here and I’ll be more than happy to buy anything extra you need-”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” (Y/N) breathed out slowly. “Moving in?”

“We talked about it last night. You agreed, didn’t you?” (Y/N) scrunched up their nose, trying to recall the conversation but drawing a blank.

“No, I never agreed to that. And I never would. It’d break the terms of our contract.”

Jungkook had such a sincere look of hurt in his eyes that it tugged at (Y/N)’s heartstrings.

“We don’t need that contract, baby. We just need each other. You know I’ll give you anything you want, right?” 

“And what I want… no, what I need… is for some space. This is just my part time hustle, I still have college and a life outside of this. I want to keep it to two days a week, otherwise it’ll blur the lines between you as a sugar daddy and you as a boyfriend.” (Y/N) tried not to let their irritation show as they spoke.

“Fuck the lines, (Y/N)! We don’t need any of those labels, I just want you to be mine as much as I am yours!” Their companion’s grip on their arm had grown tighter to the point that his nails started to draw blood. Realising this, (Y/N) pried his hand away and stood up.

“I’m sorry if I’d misled you. But I’m not looking for that kind of relationship with you, I’m just looking for strictly business. If this doesn’t work, maybe we should end this.” 

Jungkook stared at them incredulously.

“Well…” He bit his lip, deep in thought. “Fine. Life will go on, I guess. I’ll call up the moving company and cancel it. Let’s not end this beautiful thing we have over a silly argument.”

(Y/N) nodded, although they had a horrible feeling in their stomach that it was not the end of the conversation, and Jungkook would stop at nothing to get his way.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had chosen to make Thursday a ‘me’ day. They cooked themselves breakfast and lunch, did some online shopping and applied a face mask. They had zero intentions of visiting anyone else, when all they wanted to do was de-stress from life.

As they were lighting a candle and listening to some Beethoven, a shrill alarm rang out.

‘Huh. They don’t normally hold the drill today.’ (Y/N) shrugged, waiting for it to cease. However, it didn’t stop.

After a few minutes, (Y/N) grabbed their phone and stepped outside, only to see people hurrying down the stairs. 

“Hurry! Fire!” One of her neighbours yelled, jogging past them. 

Their eyes widened, but sure enough they could see smoke curling throughout the air and they knew they had no time to lose. Leaving their apartment with only their phone in hand, (Y/N) followed their neighbours down the stairs and out of the building, standing on the pavement as they watched the flames licking at the building and smoke billowing out of the open windows. Soon enough there were fire engines on the scene and ambulances to deal with the people who’d inhaled too much smoke. 

(Y/N) found themselves sitting on the pavement, numb with shock. To think everything they owned was going up in the flames was terrifying, even as they saw the firefighters doing everything to minimise the damage. 

“(Y/N)! Baby!” Their state of shock was broken by someone yelling their name, and suddenly they were pulled into a tight hug.

“Baby, thank god you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.” 

“Jungkook?” (Y/N) instantly recognised the voice. “What- How-”

“I was in the area when I heard about what happened. I came as quickly as I could.” Jungkook pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead. 

“You need to rest. Come back to my place, okay?”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had ended up staying there far longer than intended. Their apartment had been completely wrecked by the fire, since it had started on their floor. Every possession of theirs, gone so quickly, although of course Jungkook insisted on replacing whatever they wanted.

Jungkook seemed to be very much content with their prolonged stay. In fact, he’d been working from home for the first few days to make sure they were settled in and not feeling too lonely. (Y/N) would sit with him in his home office, since they didn’t really have much else to do, and scroll on their phone until he inevitably called them over to cuddle with him. 

The young man had become progressively bolder with his skinship, never holding back from pressing kisses to their neck or holding them a bit too tightly to his crotch. They hadn’t done ‘it’ yet, but with how he was acting it was only a matter of time. 

They were just sitting together, (Y/N) scrolling through instagram and Jungkook answering some emails when the desk phone rang. Jungkook reached around them to answer it, holding it to his ear for a few seconds before putting it back down.

“Your nintendo switch has just been delivered. I need to go down to the lobby and sign for it. Are you okay waiting here for a few minutes?” Jungkook pouted, as (Y/N) nodded in reply.

He pressed a kiss to their cheek before standing up.

“Don’t miss me too much, baby.” He smiled before leaving. 

(Y/N) let out a breath they didn’t realise they’d been holding in whilst he was there. But now, they were bored as ever. 

A chime rang out, and (Y/N) found their attention drawn to Jungkook’s phone, sitting there innocently. They reached over and picked it up, only seeing a text from his mother asking about dinner plans next week. But they noted how he’d changed his lockscreen to a picture of them, from a few nights ago when they’d accompanied him to a formal event and he’d asked one of his colleagues to take a picture of them together.

(Y/N) suddenly had something to do. They set about trying to unlock Jungkook’s phone, first trying their fingerprint and face ID but to no avail. Then, realising that he had a numeral password they tried typing in a few dates - his birthday, his parent’s anniversary. Then, out of sheer boredom and with only one attempt they tried their own birthday only for them to be granted access to his lockscreen.

‘Jeez, he needs to get a life if he’s that whipped for me.’ They sighed, as they scrolled through his phone. Nothing was particularly out of the ordinary, until they checked the photo gallery, to be met with tons of pictures of them. Screenshots from social media, snaps from their ‘dates’, selfies with them fast asleep in his arms. It was enough to make (Y/N) shudder with fright.

Another message popped up.

‘I need the other half of the payment, sir, or I will be contacting the police.’

(Y/N) clicked on it, expecting business talk only to be met with something else entirely. Fear settled in their stomach as they scrolled up through the messages.

‘(Y/N) has been evacuated outside, doesn’t seem to have been hurt.’

‘Someone’s called emergency services, but the fire should spread far enough that (Y/N)’s apartment will be damaged.’

‘I’ve started it, it’s spreading quickly.’

It didn’t take a genius to realise what had happened. 

(Y/N) dropped Jungkook’s phone on the floor in shock, standing up immediately. They’d walked right into his arms without hesitation, they’d played into his plan perfectly. Jungkook always got what he wanted, no matter the cost.

‘I have to get out of here.’

(Y/N) started for the door, only stopping to tuck their phone into their pocket. They were just by the entrance to the penthouse when they heard talking outside.

They knew they had to hide, but it was too late. 

Jungkook burst through the door, accompanied by a stern faced delivery driver carrying a large box. This was subsequently placed by the door and he made a swift exit, avoiding (Y/N)’s existence the entire time.

“Ah, baby I missed you. Here, come and see what I bought for you.” Jungkook beckoned to them, but one look at their face told him he’d read their mood entirely wrong.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed as he approached them. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it for you.”

“Get the hell away from me.” (Y/N) snapped. Jungkook froze. “I know what you did. What the hell is wrong with you? I could’ve died in that fire?”

His face became stern.

“I would never have allowed that to happen. I just wanted to give you a little push to move in with me, that’s all.” 

“You’re insane!”

“And you’re too stubborn to progress our relationship!” Jungkook bit back. “Can’t you see how hard I try to make you happy? Is that not enough for you to love me?”

“I never want to see you again.” (Y/N) huffed, trying to show past him only to be caught in his iron grip. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”

(Y/N) struggled, but Jungkook’s determination was stronger than their body weight.

“Maybe I am crazy, baby. And you know what that means?” He leant in close, so (Y/N) could feel the warmth of his breath. “You never know what I’m going to do next. So don’t try me unless you want to get burnt.”

[ibijau]

Counterfeit AU pt6 / On AO3

Meng Yao makes himself useful after losing his job, and discovers something unexpected

Names are funny things, Meng Yao thinks as he stares at the sheet of paper in his hand. 

Funny things indeed.

-

After everything that went down in the Hanshi, it's Beastie that saves Meng Yao from himself.

Left to his own devices, he would have either wallowed in misery, or waste time proving to himself that everything that happened wasn't his fault, the way he knows he's done in other lives. But when he comes home after having his past lives thrown into his face and losing a job he loves, Beastie’s mother corners him just as he puts his key into his lock. Her daughter is on school holiday, she explains, and was supposed to be looked after by a friend with children of a similar age. But one of the children came down with something contagious, so the whole plan fell through, and the poor woman now desperately needs help finding someone to look after her daughter.

She’s not asking for Meng Yao to play the babysitter, but he knows so many people, he has so many connections, maybe he could pull a favour somewhere, help her out again.

“I can take care of her for a few days,” Meng Yao offers without thinking. “I’m jobless as of today.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! What happened?”

“My employer died,” Meng Yao replies, which is close enough to the truth. He doesn’t think Nie Huaisang will continue using his Shanzi alias after this, and they’ll never meet again. He might as well be dead. “I don’t plan on looking for a new job right away, so I can babysit for a while, it’s no big deal.”

She tries to insist that he doesn’t need to be doing that, but quickly agrees after some reassurance that Meng Yao doesn’t mind. She looks so relieved she could cry as she says she’ll drop Beastie in the morning. Meng Yao smiles, certain that his mother would be proud of him for doing what’s right.

Having Beastie around is definitely the best choice he could have made. She’s a good kid, but she’s also high energy and needs to be entertained, which means he doesn’t get to think too much about how much he misses Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen. 

They watch movies together, as they’ve always done when he picked her up after school. They go for walks to a nearby park, and once to a museum to look at old armours and swords. He buys Beastie a fake sword, though they agree to keep it at his place, since her mother already despairs that she so strongly favours boy’s toys. In fact, Meng Yao ends up just spoiling that little girl, the way he would have loved someone to do for him when he was her age. He even has Nie Huaisang’s console repaired so she can play on it, instead of selling it as he’d intended.

The video games are a big hit with her. She’s particularly in love with the same game Nie Huaisang spent too many hours on, that weird little terraforming thing which Meng Yao can’t see the appeal of. He liked that it made Nie Huaisang happy. He likes that it also makes Beastie happy, and that she’s very careful not to ruin the work previously put into it, focused instead on maintaining it and planting flowers

“It looks like home,” she explains when Meng Yao asks about that, and lifts the console for him to see.

It doesn’t look like a homely place, he thinks, and more like a military fortress right out of a wuxia drama. But Meng Yao doesn’t get to make that remark, because his phone vibrates, demanding his attention. Beastie, sitting crossed legs on some cushion on the floor, goes back to watering virtual flowers, while Meng Yao checks some news from his bank account. A lump sum has been sent to him, a good deal more than his usual salary, coming from an account registered under a name he doesn’t recognise.

It has been a week since he was fired.

Nie Huaisang kept his promise.

It really is over.

Not that Meng Yao really doubted it. Nie Huaisang has many faults but indecision has never been one, though he’s always been good at pretending otherwise. Once his choice is made he toys with expectations but rarely ever changes his mind.

Rarely, of course, isn’t never. Meng Yao, foolishly, hoped to be one of those few exceptions. 

Those new zeroes on his bank account feel like a divorce, and he never even got a honeymoon. 

That night, Meng Yao allows himself a few hours to wallow in misery, after Beastie went back to her mother. He is only human, and it does feel good to eat take-away in front of a cheesy romance. The film's hero doesn't get the girl, who was dead all along. Meng Yao cries, even though he's seen that movie before. 

By morning, he's in control again, and takes Beastie to the park so she can run around in the sun, and scare pigeons with her sword.

Those holidays are all great fun, until Beastie’s mother reminds them that she has homework to do.

Beastie is a clever kid, there’s no doubt about it, but she doesn’t much like doing her homework, least of all when she feels she could be playing. It takes all of Meng Yao’s negotiation skills to get her to even look at her school books, and he almost resorts to bribery to make her pick up a pencil. But she works hard once she starts, and Meng Yao, wanting to encourage her, sits with her at the kitchen table to update his resume. Beastie will go back to class soon, and inactivity just isn’t in his temper.

When Beastie is done with her work, she gets permission to put on whatever movie she likes while Meng Yao checks what she’s done in case it needs correcting.

But when he picks up the sheet of simple maths she’s expected to give her teacher on monday, all Meng Yao sees is her name.

It’s really funny. He knows her name of course, though he hasn’t heard it in a while. Even her mother took up to calling her Beastie after he nicknamed her that. It just fits her so well, that active little girl who prefers trousers over dresses because they're easier to move in and always wants to play at fighting. She’s a real little monster, and Meng Yao loves her like that. She’s just Beastie.

But according to the homework she’s spent the afternoon on, she’s also Nie Mingjue.

It could just be a coincidence. Names are funny like that, they pop up in unexpected places, they get forgotten and reused. Perhaps in another life, Meng Yao would have just dismissed it as a random incident.

In another life, he wouldn’t have been called Meng Yao.

It’s the first time this happens since that first life they all shared. He’s Meng Yao again, Lan Xichen bears his old name too, and now he’s found a Nie Mingjue, hiding right under his nose. A Nie Mingjue who likes fighting, and claims that her toy sword is actually a sabre, and who always insists a lot on things being fair, even when Meng Yao tries to give her the biggest share of a food she likes.

It can’t be a coincidence.

Meng Yao needs to tell someone.

He needs to tell Nie Huaisang.

He tries, of course, and without surprise his former employer’s number has been terminated. He has the same luck trying to send an email. Nie Huaisang might as well never have existed. Meng Yao feels helpless, torn between tears and laughter. After spending centuries looking for his brother, Nie Huaisang just might have lost his chance due to being so damn dramatic. Serves him right, Meng Yao thinks, still bitter about being discarded so easily, and never getting a chance to see if things might work better in this life.

Bitterness doesn’t last. Meng Yao cares about Nie Huaisang, more than he should if he were a little smarter, and he knows how important finding his brother again would be for him. And if Nie Huaisang can’t be directly contacted, there’s always indirect ways.

It’s not that Meng Yao misses Lan Xichen, he tells himself that night, when Beastie is back with his mother and he starts writing a long text message on his phone. Well, it’s not just that, anyway. He does miss Lan Xichen, sweet and funny and so eager when talking about art. But more importantly, Lan Xichen probably has access to Lan Wangji, who clearly must know how to contact Nie Huaisang. 

Texting Lan Xichen is a strategic choice. 

The way Meng Yao's heart jumps inside his chest when Lan Xichen immediately replies is… it's strategic too. He's just glad that his plan is working. 

How have you been? :)

I could have been worse. I've just realised something and I think it concerns you. I've told you about that kid I babysit, haven't I? 

Little Beastie? Is she okay? D:

She's Nie Mingjue. 

This time, the answer isn't immediate. Meng Yao stares nervously at his phone, wondering if Lan Xichen thinks he's lying, or planning something. Considering their first life, who could blame him? 

But after a few minutes, his phone vibrates again. 

Sorry, I dropped my phone and couldn't get it back from under the couch. Are you sure?? (⊙ˍ⊙)

It all fits. You could come meet her if you want. But it's him, I'm sure. 

Did you tell Nie Huaisang???

I can't contact him. Are you in touch with Lan Wangji? Maybe he can warn him. 

I have his number, I just texted him! I'll keep you updated! It's so wonderful if it's da-ge!! Can I really meet him? ╰(*°▽°*)╯

Her*?

I'll send you my address. If you can come tomorrow, she'll be there.

Are you sure? I don't think da-ge would still want me around. (≧﹏ ≦)

Meng Yao gives that question the consideration it deserves. It's not an unfair worry to have, and he'd be wondering the same if he hadn't known Beastie for so long. 

I literally killed him, and he killed me. If she had to hate anyone it'd be me, but we get along great. We're no longer the same people we used to be. It's the same for her. 

If you're sure, then I'll come! (❁´w`❁)

-

Meng Yao is very sure indeed. 

So Lan Xichen comes. 

It's odd to invite someone to his flat. It's a small place, a bit messy, full of trinkets and DVDs that Meng Yao would never admit to owning, not with the image he wants to create. He's always avoided guests. But having Lan Xichen over is as rewarding as it is terrifying. Lan Xichen brought some charming little cakes, as if he's visiting someone important, and he smiles at the sight of a movie poster on the wall, confessing he watched it so often as a teenager that the tape broke one day. 

"It's my favourite too!" Beastie exclaims. "Meng-ge has it, you know! Can we watch it now?" 

Normally, Meng Yao would point out that it's a little rude to ask that when they have a guest. But he can see that Lan Xichen is nervous and unsure how to act around Nie Mingjue, and maybe a movie will let them all relax. 

In the end, they spend a pleasant afternoon, the three of them. Once Lan Xichen stops worrying that the Nie Mingjue of old will appear and shout at him for getting him killed, he starts chatting with Beastie about her favourite movies, what she's learning in school, what she wants to be when she grows up. She's very happy to answer, and very impressed when he explains he's a teacher, even though she's finding it hard to accept that most of his students are fully adult.

And when Beastie is back with her mother, Lan Xichen lingers for a while, tempted by the offer of Meng Yao's favourite takeaway.

“It’s amazing how much like him she is,” Lan Xichen says as they sit on the sofa to wait for the food to arrive. “It’s the first time he reincarnates, you know. At least, Wangji told me they’d never found any trace of him before.”

Guilt shoots through Meng Yao. It’s his fault if Nie Mingjue’s soul was so fractured it took him this long to be reborn. Or at least, it’s the fault of someone he was, once, which is nearly the same, and yet completely different. Meng Yao has learned from living and dying several times, and he’s lucky enough to live in a kinder world than Jin Guangyao did. It helps.

“She’s also different from him, though,” Lan Xichen continues, moving just a little closer, until they’re almost touching.

“We’ll, for starters she’s a kid,” Meng Yao points out, wondering if he should take the other man’s hand. If this had happened before the Hanshi, he would have, but he’s not sure where they stand now.

“It’s not just that. In that first life, I knew da-ge as a child too and he was…” Lan Xichen sighs and makes a vague hand gesture. “He was a lot. Way too serious sometimes. We all were, I suppose, but him most of all. The Nie tended to grow fast, to compensate for dying young. I’m… I’m glad that he gets to properly be a child this time. That she gets to be a child.”

“The world has changed,” Meng Yao says, finding the courage at last to brush his fingers against Lan Xichen’s. “Things aren’t always easy but they’re… easier, I suppose.”

Lan Xichen’s returns that touch, gentle and careful as always. This, too, is easier now than it was back then. It’s not easy, but there’s less pressure to conform, less demands to be good dutiful sons, and just a little more space to be their own people, to make their own choices.

Maybe in their next life they’ll meet again and it’ll be even easier to be like this. But even now, Meng Yao is ready to take the chances that his past self wouldn’t have dared to dream of. He leans toward Lan Xichen, hoping to kiss him, but a knock on the door interrupts them and he jumps to his feet to go get their food. The delivery man looks at him a little funny, but makes no comment. If Meng Yao is half as red as Lan Xichen, he deserves those odd looks.

Nothing happens again that night. The moment has passed, and after eating, Lan Xichen has to go home because he has engagements the day after that he can’t cancel.

It's not a date that night, no more than any of their previous encounters were. 

It's not a date then, but next time, when Lan Xichen invites him to a restaurant, Meng Yao is informed in no unclear terms that this is, in fact, a date. They go see a movie after, and Meng Yao gets to kiss one of the two most handsome men in the world.

Life is good. 

Life is really good, and yet Meng Yao wants more. 

In spite of their efforts, Lan Xichen and him can't get in touch with Nie Huaisang to inform him that his brother has finally reincarnated. Even Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are getting worried. From what they told Lan Xichen they haven't had any contact with him since the day they picked him up at the Hanshi. 

"They say he's done that before," Lan Xichen tells him. "They think he'll return in a decade or two, maybe a little longer. Time is hard for immortals, they lose track easily." 

That's all very well for them, but Meng Yao doesn't have a few decades to waste, and neither does Nie Mingjue. They're not immortals. One bad illness, a reckless driver, just tripping in the stairs, and it's all over until they reincarnate again, and Meng Yao is done with missed chances. 

If he can't directly get in touch with Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao can make a few discreet calls to former buyers, and advise them to get their purchase asserted again, just in case. He makes sure to only contact people who bought legitimate artworks of course. He wants to make a wave, not get in trouble. If Meng Yao knows Nie Huaisang even half as well as he thinks he does, then even in hiding Nie Huaisang will be checking what’s happening in the world of art collectors, and he’ll hear about some of his buyers suddenly becoming fearful of fakes.

It’s a little mean perhaps, when Nie Huaisang is so proud of his counterfeits, but kindness has never been Meng Yao’s greatest quality.

Besides, it works.

One afternoon, when Meng Yao is alone at home, checking a job offer that he’s probably going to reject because he deserves better, there’s a knock on the door. Meng Yao considers ignoring it, but some of his elderly neighbours have been coming to ask for help with their phones or whatever new fancy blender their kids got them to make life easier. Usually, five minutes of easy work means free homemade food for his next meal, which is always a great deal.

When he opens the door, there’s a very old man waiting in the corridor alright, but free food is probably out of the question.

“Well, I’m here,” Nie Huaisang says. “Whatever is going on, it’d better be important.”

[bostongirl13]

New Dodger Photo part 6 -  Mountain Cabin

Summary: All slowly starts to go crazy around you and your panic attacks and anxieties begin to make themselves felt. So Chris comes up with the idea to calm your body and mind.

Warnings: AGE GAP, a lot fluff (probably a little too much), soft smut, mistakes

Words:1.6k+

Masterlist

Series masterlist 

The time for your exams was approaching, and your fears and panic attacks were starting to take hold. And as if that was not enough, Chris was about to fly to LA and start working on a new film. A time of challenges and sacrifices awaited you, but you were aware of it by agreeing to be the actor's girlfriend.

Chris started to notice that something bad was happening to you and the worst that he felt helpless and guilty. Everything was starting to be on your head. So he had an idea that could help you both relax a bit and get away from reality. So while you were in class, he made a few calls to prepare a surprise. Then he packed both of you, making it so that you wouldn't get suspicious.

The next day you were off work and school, so you wanted to sleep a little longer than usual. Your wonderful fiancé had other plans, however, and so at 4 am you were sitting in the car, mad at him for waking you up at such a non-human hour and not saying where he was taking you. Dodger slept soundly in the backseat without worrying about anything, while you, wrapped in a blanket and with your arms crossed over your chest, wanted to force Chris to say the slightest word of explanation.

"Come on, Princess. You can't be mad at me all trip "

“I can and will. It's 4 AM Christopher ?! I slept for two hours thanks to you because I would like to remind you that someone wanted to have sex in the shower, which later turned into several rounds in the bathroom and bedroom. And now you drag me, who knows where and for what. So I'll be mad at you as long as you don't tell me what's going on. ” you practically snarled at him like Dodger when he was unhappy with his dad's teasing and turned your head to the window.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep and when you woke up it was already light and the landscape behind the car window began to change suddenly. The terrain was more mountainous, the trees grew closer together, suggesting you had entered the forest, and everything was covered with a white down snow duvet. You straightened up in the seat, emitting a soft wow and opening your eyes wider as a beautiful view of the mountains emerged from behind the trees.

"Do you like it?"

"Very" you couldn't take your eyes off the sight of "Are you taking me to a cabin in the mountains?" you narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

"Yup" answered, they accentuate the last letter in his distinctive way.

You never thought you would feel like the fanfiction you secretly read when Chris was working, and you had a moment to spare and didn't want to disturb him. You had the phrase that you were dreaming and someone would wake you up, or it would turn out to be a joke. But it all turned out to be true when you suddenly parked next to a wooden house by a lake situated in a small valley. You were surrounded by mountains, and the frozen surface of the lake reflected the sun, giving you a breathtaking view.

"Do you like it?" you felt a man's strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you against your hard chest.

“Very much what I did that you took me here. Or what did you do, Mr. Evans, ”you turned to be face to face with him.

"And does the fact that I love you very much and wanted to spend some time with my future wife before everything goes crazy around us count for a sufficient reason?"

You couldn't hold back the tears that started to flow down your cheeks. "What I did to deserve you."

Chris smiled and wiped the saltwater drops from your face.

"The question is what have I done to deserve you?" He leaned in and kissed you on the lips with all the love he had for you.

After you packed your bags home (which also surprised you that Chris had both of you packed and he knew exactly what you would take for such a trip) you went to a nearby town for breakfast and then for a walk. When it got dark, Chris lit the fireplace and you prepared cheese and wine. You both sat on the blankets in front of the fireplace and sat in complete silence, enjoying your presence. You didn't need much to be happy. It was enough that you had each other, in a warm cottage and the peace surrounding you.

You felt Chris starting to place gentle kisses against your neck. You had no intention of protesting, you smiled eagerly as you tilted your head to ease his access. The sweet kisses and the gentle tickle of his chin started to light a fire in you.

He wrapped his arms around you in a moment and you let my head rest upon his chest. All your thoughts stopped as if your heart took over from your head when you were close. Next, he would squeeze as if he needed to check you were really there with him, really there and really real... and you was, body and soul. You doubt anyone else ever felt the way you do about being in his arms.

You closed your eyes allowing you to surrender to the feeling. The warmth of his hands under your sweater and the chimney puff made you feel your body on fire.

"You don't have a bra. Naughty girl," Chris whispered to your ear in a voice that sent shivers down your body.

Soon after, you were both lying naked in front of the fireplace, his cock deep inside you, your bodies close not allowing the slightest break, hands clasped above your head, and your bodies illuminated only by the light from the fire.

"I love you, princess," Chris whispered, never taking his eyes off your green eyes, with which tears were shedding as a result of how well you felt and how happy you were.

His slow movements did not allow you to be quiet. Moans came out of your mouth, which for Chris was the most beautiful sound in the world. He started kissing you with an open kiss, joining your tongues in an erotic and passionate dance. You did so much at once, you knew you wouldn't last long. Chris smiled and broke off the kiss.

"I can feel you squeezing me. You're close. Don't hold back. Come on for me. Come on baby, I've got you."

You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him as low as possible and to keep him as deep in you as possible. After a while, your whole body trembled and you were overcome by an orgasm, you moaned his name, and tears streaming down your cheeks. Not even for a second, you didn't take your eyes off his blue pupils, which were now dark with lust. You've never had an orgasm like this before, and you've had a lot of them thanks to Chris's skill in bed. Shortly after that, he growled and you felt him cum inside you painting your walls and filling you. You both lay motionless trying to get off your peak. You braided your fingers through his hair as Chris had his face tucked in the crease of your neck.

"I love you, I love you as I have never loved anyone," you said kissing his shoulder.

"I love you too. You are the one for me, Princess"

The next morning

You woke up naked in soft white sheets, alone. You stretched and you weren't even surprised when you smelled coffee and fried eggs. You got up and put on one of Chris's sweaters, pulling the fabric up to your nose for a moment and inhaling his scent.

"Good morning"

"Good morning handsome" you kissed him and sat down in the chair.

"I'm sorry you didn't wake up with me, but I wanted to make us breakfast in bed."

"I'm not angry. I don't think any woman would be angry about it if she found what I did after entering the kitchen." you smiled looking at the pancakes and scrambled eggs on the table, plus sliced ​​fruit and hot coffee.

Suddenly you heard a bark. You both turned to see Dodger sticking his head out between the sockets of the stair railing. You started laughing when the pooch had a sad face saying you left me alone in the evening and you didn't take care of me. Chris of course took a picture and posted it on his Instagram then called him for breakfast.

You felt like in a fairy tale or a dream. And you wouldn't give it up for anything in the world, because you knew that nowhere you will find the happiness Chris gave you and the way you felt being with him. Not only were you the one for him, but he was also the one for you. Age difference? Fuck it. You loved each other and you made each other happy, so nothing to anyone. It wasn't just your life anymore, it was yours and you knew that with a man like Chris, you would walk through life with the most supportive and wonderful person in the world by your side. You were happy and, above all, for the first time in your life, you felt that anything was possible.

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

Tags:  @patzammit @ivettt​ @mostannoyingbillioner @speechlessxx​ @angrybirdcr​ @ozarkthedog​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @sweetflowerdreams​ 

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Nine: Group Therapy

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A familiar drink brings back steamy memories for Shane (by popular demand), a ghost from the past picks a fight with the present, and the future hangs in the balance for our heroes.

Behind on the drama? It’s cool. I gotchu.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, violence, smut, alcohol consumption, more feels than you can shake a stick at.

Author’s Note: Guys. Listen guys. I know this chapter is a tad late…not that I have deadlines, I just know y’all want more sooner than I can always get it to you. It’s also, though, a bit longer than most of the previous installments have been. I hope you guys enjoy it. I think it’s my favorite chapter so far…I definitely cried the most writing it…you’ll see why…I’m not sorry. Initially, for some reason, it was hard to stay focused. (I blame my own emotions and feelings clouding my ambitions. Can’t let that happen anymore. Even though the same factors apply. I’ve gotta keep my head in it!) I’m actually pretty sad that there won’t be very much more of this story…they’ve been such good friends to me. I may just have to find a way to keep them going in follow-up drabbles. I don’t know. But I’m open to suggestions.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0

@tumblnewby

@suavechops

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

It wasn’t top on Shane’s list of things she wanted to do tonight, but it had been ages since she’d gone out with her friends. It wasn’t totally because she’d been seeing Sy. But more recently, he had become the most prevalent reason she ended up bowing out. Because she had plans with him, or she needed to do things that she hadn’t gotten or wouldn’t get done because of plans with him unless she skipped out. They were bad excuses, but those of an introvert weren’t usually top-shelf, anyway.

It was Heather, the other secretary Marsha and her husband Alec, some of her fellow PTs Cory and Juan, and both OTs, Olivia and Miranda there at Cade’s that night. And Shane and Sy, of course. They were sitting at two tables close together, and after dinner, the guys got up to play darts while the ladies ordered a round of shots.

Heather both requested and paid for the tray of tiny glasses full of dark liquor. Shane knew the aroma all too well. Those were full of Jack Daniels. And she got tingly just thinking about the spirit, especially now.

“Let’s drink the first round to Shane.” She passed them around and held one up. “For landing captain sexy pants over there, and for being happier than I’ve seen her in actual years.” Heather clinked to the middled with the other girls as they completed the toast with cheery responses of “to Shane!” With intermittent whoops and cat-calls. She felt funny saluting herself, so she said nothing, silently dedicating her own drink to the guy she wasn’t expecting, wasn’t even asking for, but who’d been gifted to her, by God Himself, it seemed. Whoever or whatever or why ever, she was grateful for him.

She downed the full measure of whiskey, feeling the familiar pleasant burn down her throat and reminisced about the last time she’d had the drink.

~~~~~~

“No you’re cheating!” She slurred at Sy’s kitchen table.

“Not how I see it!” He smirked, that crooked grin mixing with the alcohol in her already impaired system making a heady and dangerous concoction.

“You’re delib’rately using my PT career against me!” They we’re playing “Never Have I Ever.” And he’d just used “never have I ever measured somebody up with a big protractor.”

“Hey, you’ve been trying to get me with ‘never have I army this, and never have I army that.’ And you just can’t and now you’re mad about it.”

“Ugh, I’m not mad, I just…don’t like cheating okay. Fair play. I’m a Hufflepuff, through and through!”

“As a Gryffindor, I resent your implication against my honor! And I say, drink twice.” They’d run out of mixer, and were down to the straight liquor. She was fine with it. She loved the sweet, oaky burn of Number 7 as she held small swallows on her tongue. Relished the burn of it on the tender skin of her lips like a rough kiss. She took two shots at his insistence.

“Never have I ever…fired a gun!” And they both drank because she had chosen a “never” that she “had ever” on purpose. She liked feeling this way with Sy. She liked being able to abandon her control and feel safe in so doing. Knowing that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her. Including herself.

His eyes began to glimmer in a way that she could always tell meant he was thinking something particularly salacious. Which typically meant something good was about to happen.

“Never have I ever…fooled around in a kitchen.” He waited a beat, then slowly stood, taking a long stride to stand directly in front of Shane, towering over her as she sat limp from drinking and more than ready for whatever he was planning. The kiss he gave her was almost instantly hungry, devouring, consuming. A wild fire that would spread throughout the forest of her. He pulled a stool out from under the table near her, barely having to break the contact and sat down in front of her on it. She leaned into him now, the boneless feeling now overtaken by her craving for him. She tugged at his casual blue tank top that stunned her because of the way it matched his eyes so well. She needed him closer. His hands rested on her thighs, mostly bare in the shorts she'd chosen for tonight, simply for their comfort, and not because they provided any sort of easy access. Not on a conscious level, anyway, she told herself.

His grip was tightening but the pain of the pressure didn't matter. His thumbs and fingers were rupturing tiny blood vessels and she registered the pain and the fact that she would have bruises in the shape of his claiming grip but all that really mattered was that he was there. Near. Present. And touching her.  

His hands moved, sliding up her legs, their trajectory shifting inward, their aim to open her up to him.

She was nothing short of willing.

He reached down to the seat between her legs and pulled her closer to him. Yes, she thought. He's too far away. Even though she could smell the whiskey on his breath even as she tasted it, still sweet on her own tongue. He laid a gentle hand on her left cheek, an almost chaste gesture, that snaked into something entirely different as it descended, brushing her neck, between her breasts, and over her abdomen, tumultuous from his touch and the drink.

He made it finally to her apex, easily brushing aside the fabric of her shorts, and teasing her there over her underwear with a soft, measured touch. She threw her arms around his neck, a wordless plea for him to go on. But her body was at odds with her mind.

“Sy, I wanna go slow.” She meant she didn’t want to end up in his bed tonight. Well, not that she didn't want to…

"Don't worry, sunshine. I'll take it real slow." he assured her, pretending to misunderstand her meaning as he teased her over her panties. She couldn't have spoken to correct him even if his lips hadn't taken an urgent hold on hers. His firm but frustrating touch was leaving her speechless and breathless.

Finally, he moved her undergarment aside to touch her, skin to skin. To pull a sweet, euphoric moan from her with just his fingers. He had been right about taking his time. It took him ages to find that space inside her that brought her to her pinnacle, but he made the wait enjoyable, all the same. She had a feeling he could have gone right to it, if he’d wanted to, but since she’d asked for it…

He grinned and chuckled into her mouth a bit as he toyed with her. He finally spoke,

“Hot damn, girl, you should have told me you needed me this bad.” He added a second finger to his game of search and destroy.

She could only grasp at his bare shoulders and the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to ground herself. He quickened, then slowed in sweet torture until her cries of his name became over loud for his neighborhood. The last build up, he added his thumb , brushing it against her aching center.

It hit her in waves of bliss as every muscle in her body responded to his localized, expert touch. Her vision blurred and for a second she could see the electricity flowing through air and matter and into her. Since when did THAT happen to her when she came?

“Sy!” She whimpered, a plea for him to stop but also to never stop.

“I know, darlin’, it’s alright. I’ve gotcha. Go on and let it out.” And she barely realized another climax had been building in her before she was falling headlong into it again, just as intense as the first one. He slowed, gently soothing her body after its small death, rubbing her neck and shoulder on the right side with his free hand.

He took his right hand away from her heat, brought it up to his mouth, and tasted her on his fingers. He poured them both another shot of whiskey, they threw them back, and once she had caught her breath from it all, she said,

“I don’t know the score, but I think you’ve won.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the present, she felt too sober to handle the bombardment of questions coming from her coworkers, no matter how pure their intentions.

“So are you guys a couple, like officially?”

“Have you met each other’s folks?”

“Do you think he’s the one?”

“What is he like in bed!?”

“I bet he’s an absolute fiend!”

“Nah, guys ya think that about are always so vanilla.”

“How big is he!?”

All of these questions seemed to come at one time, or at least before she could answer the previous ones, and it made her head spin.

“Listen, girls. I’m gonna go get myself a strong drink, and when I come back, I’ll answer one question at a time, so figure out the order in which you’ll be asking, and a punishment system for interrupting. Fair?” The hens all nodded their beaks in agreement as she stood to go to the bar. She reminded herself to add a disclaimer when she got back to the table about having veto power over questions she felt weren’t appropriate.

As she stood at the bar waiting for her turn with the bartender, she tensed as she heard an all too familiar voice say her name.

“Shane Benton.” He said in a charming tenor that she now found obnoxiously boyish.

“Elliott Thomas. What misdeed did I do in a past life to end up back in the same room with you?” He ignored her jibe.

“You look well.” He said, surveying her as if he intended to make a purchase.

“Okay.” She would not give credence to half assed, insincere compliments.

“Who’s the guy you’re with tonight?”

“That couldn’t be any less your business.”

“You’ll always be my business, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Funny, you didn’t seem to give a shit when we were together.”

“Come on, tell me where ya met this meat head.”

“Back off, Elliott.”

“Come on. He’s in a plaid shirt. He looks like he’s trying to cosplay the Brawny man. How quick does he pick you up?” He raised his eyebrows, driving home his attempt at double entendre.

The rage came suddenly, without warning, and manifested in a firm slap from her right hand to his left cheek. It landed solidly enough for him to have to stretch his jaw and feel it, as if making sure it was still there.

"Well, still got some spunk. Good to know. Not so fast--" he grabbed her wrist as she stepped away from the bar, but she was saved the trouble of getting out of it with her favorite self-defense maneuver, by the solid wall of red plaid and denim topped with his favorite black Chiefs hat. Sy had apparently noticed her altercation at the bar and elected to step in.

"What's goin' on here?" he asked, not brusquely, but so coolly that it was almost friendly. Elliott let go of Shane's wrist immediately and threw his hands up.

"No trouble here, man. Just a little friendly conversation between two former lovers." he said, oozing pure, stinking hubris.

"Oh, you're Elliott. Nice to meet you, man." Sy reached out to shake the man's hand. "I've actually been wanting to thank you."

Elliott looked confused. So was Shane. This guy had broken her heart. What was Sy intent on thanking him for?

"I wanted to thank you for fucking up so bad with this kind, beautiful woman, this graceful and forgiving saint, that she couldn't stand the sight of you any longer. Who knows. If you hadn't been such a dick, she may not have been free to be with me today." all of this, Sy said with Elliott's hand still in his. Shaking it. Apparently not too firmly. Until Sy leaned in very closely and whispered something to Elliott that made him go several shades of puce, and grimace, pulling his hand away, which Sy eventually relinquished.

After Elliott had tucked his tail and ran away, Shane found herself in a far less merry temperament than she'd come in with. She and Sy decided to leave. They said their goodbyes, Shane promising more answers as soon as she could. And they left, her arm around his waist, and his around her shoulder.

About halfway to Sy's truck, Shane heard a solid ping near her ear and the shattering of glass on the pavement nearby, followed by a low growl from deep in Sy's chest. They halted in their stride, Shane turning quickly around, Sy turning more slowly and intentionally in the direction of his would be attacker.

Elliot stood beside the brick exterior of the bar with three other men, none of them within 50 pounds of Sy, and hardly a match for him…individually…but together, she was concerned. She would absolutely try to help fight these guys, but she couldn't take out more than one with the potential weapons she had on her person that she could inventory off hand. Plus, if she had to fight Elliott…he'd get into her head…she knew it. Thank God she didn't know the other guys. She'd hope to get one of them.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Sy said, back to his polite self, not worried about potentially getting into a street fight in which they were outnumbered two to one.

"Just thought you'd like to tell my buddies here what you said to me in there. I mean, I gave them the gist, but I think they'd like to hear it from you." Elliott puffed.

"Ah, somebody can't keep a secret." Sy sigh scolded him, wagging his finger at him as if he was a misbehaved child. "I was gonna let it all go as long as you left us alone. Did you mention that to them before you got them into a whole mess o' trouble?"

"Tell them, you fuckin' coward."

"Big talk from a guy who had to make it four to one before he confronted me." Sy accused.

"Four to two." Shane squared her shoulders, standing next to Sy, and attempting to make herself look more formidable, which was next to impossible given the fact that the man beside her was a massive army captain and she was just…herself. But she'd be damned if she stood by and let Sy take all of this on when it was all because of her. Plus, she didn't want him to reinjure himself.

"How about you jump in if I need ya, sunshine." He whispered to her. She didn't move or reply. "But ya know, since ya asked so nicely, I will oblige. I told this piss-ant friend of yours after he physically accosted this lovely lady here, in no uncertain terms that if he EVER touched MY GIRLFRIEND again, he'd be begging for death for hours before I had mercy on him and put him out of his misery and that his body would never be found." He eyed each of the men before him, his fiery gaze a physical force upon them, letting his promise to Elliott sink in. "Now if y'all wanna defend a man who would put hands on a woman, and then proceed to physically assault a United States Army veteran like myself, I can come up with similar guarantees for all of ya. And carry them out here tonight. But y'all look like ya've got a lot o' shit ya still wanna get done in this life with limbs and dicks intact. So I would encourage all of you fine gentlemen to walk away from this situation."

Two of the men, surrendered, claiming Elliott hadn't mentioned that he'd hurt Shane or that Sy was a vet. One of the men asked to shake his hand and thanked him for his service. The smallest member of Elliott's group, however, remained with him. Shane thought she recognized him after getting a better look. He'd been at a few events she'd been to with Elliott's friend group. She thought his name was Kyle. Clearly he was one of Elliott's oldest and most loyal friends. He still looked skeptical. Unsure that the two of them alone could take Sy. Shane thought he was right to be worried.

"Come on, Kyle!" Elliott summoned his friend to the fight.

"I dunno, man. He's a soldier and I mean…look at him. Look at us!"

"You pussy." Elliott walked up to Sy.

"You don't want to do this, friend." Sy warned.

"I'm not your friend, asshole. You stole my girlfriend." he swung wildly at the larger man, but missed. He was unsteady, Shane could see now, from excessive drink. She hadn't noticed inside.

Sy remained still for one punch that landed weakly on his jaw, barely displacing it. "Are you done, there, Mayweather? We even? Now that you got to hit me?"

"We are not done. Not until one of us is on the ground." Elliott insisted.

"Fair enough." Sy socked him with a jab straight to the nose, knocking him dizzily to the hard asphalt of the parking lot. Kyle came up to him to drag Elliott to a nearby car as his head lolled forward like a rag doll.

"I'll get him to the ER. Explain to them what happened. You guys get home safe. And thanks for not killing him. Or me." Kyle said as he opened his passenger door. Sy helped heave Elliott's comatose form into the seat and shook Kyle's hand.

Shane's eyes were still wide at the entire chain of events. Her adrenaline supercharged from her readiness to fight alongside her man. Which, she was both relieved and disappointed that she didn't have to do. But there was another thing on her mind. She had been mentally replaying what Sy had said to Elliott played over and over for more reasons than his chivalrous and heroic conduct.

When they were in the car and headed to her house, Shane asked him about it.

"So…you called me your girlfriend tonight." she looked at him.

"Shit, Shane, I'm sorry. I've been wanting to ask ya for days to make things official, and I just haven't found the right time. I was gonna ask you over drinks tonight in front of all your friends, but then that asshole fucked it all up. I even have a gift for you." he fished around in his pocket for a small, flat box, and handed it to her. She flipped up the spring loaded lid of the black velvet box, and inside, on a tiny pillow of black satin was a silver necklace with a silver charm. An "S" in an elaborate script with a small emerald set in the lower hook of the letter. "And if you don't want to make it official, you can still keep the necklace, because the 'S' can be for 'Shane,' and the stone can just be an emerald, and ya don't have to think about it like it's my birthstone, and I--"

"Sy, hush. Of course I want to be your girlfriend, officially. I've been dying to say it myself. And I love the necklace. It's perfect."

"Really? You mean it? All of it?" she'd never seen him so desperate. She had no idea why he thought she might not be serious. But she did have an idea of how to prove it.

"Stay with me tonight, Sy."

"It's still early yet, babe. I'll have plenty of time--"

"No, I mean, I want you. Tonight." How could she be more clear than that?

"Oh, you mean…but I thought you wanted to wait until my treatments were over?" He asked, as if he didn't want to get his hopes up just yet.

"When you were on the phone with my boss that day, you said something that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. Something that's gnawed at my will and resolve ever since. You said that life was too short, and you didn't want to wait to be happy when you could be happy now." she was verging on tears. "Well, I'm tired of waiting too, Sy. You make me happier than I've ever been, and I don't see the point in ignoring what we really want anymore. Because the fact is, Sy…the fact has been for a while now," she laughed at her own foolishness for stifling and ignoring it all this time, "I love you. And I think I have from the moment you first called me ma'am." She was fully crying now, and the tears had broken through down his cheeks, as well.

He pulled into her driveway and jumped out of his truck, still running, headlights blazing into her yard. He jogged around the front, but Shane, being uninjured had caught up to him without the benefit of a head start. He caught her up in his arms as if she'd stay there forever. They sobbed tears of joy and relief as they kissed each other with abandon, silhouettes against the footlights and exhaust courtesy of the Ford Motor Company, the PowerStroke engine roaring a soundtrack for this moment as it idled.

"I love you, Shane. From the moment you found me dreading therapy all alone that first day and cheered me up instantly. I knew." he brush the tears and hairs away from her face and held it, scrutinizing her features in the high-beams as if he intended to draw her from memory.

"I didn't know you were dreading it." she laughed, lightening the mood a bit.

"I was. A lot. Never had a lot of luck, especially recently, with PT. Until you."

She smiled, and looked at the truck, a third party to their romantic moment now more obvious to her.

"You're wasting gas."

"Hang the gas. I'm wasting time with you. You wanna go inside?" he asked. She nodded.

"You go get your purse. I'll be right around."

Sy shut off the truck and took his keys out, locking the vehicle from the fob after his arm was back around Shane and they were walking up her front porch steps.

Up Next: Chapter 10- Myofascial Release

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Dangerous Minds

Those of my readers who haven’t known me long may not know that I was once a corps member of Teach for America. I taught 10th and 11th grade English for about 5 weeks, then I was told on a Friday about my “involuntary transfer” to another school in the district, where I’d be teaching 7th and 8th grade English instead. I went from having about 110 students to about 190. My classroom had no books (textbook or otherwise), no pencils, no paper, no markers or chalk, but it DID have one of those folding lamps that come out of the ceiling at the dentist’s office. The kids had been in there for 5 weeks with a rotating roster of subs; they’d done no schoolwork of any kind. I was teaching in a very poor area of the city, and my students were predominantly Black and Hispanic. One of my 10th graders wrote his first personal essay about getting shot the previous year. I say all this to tell you that when Chad asked that I review Dangerous Minds, the 1995 adaptation starring Michelle Pfeiffer of the true story of Louanne Johnson’s experience teaching in inner city schools in California, I was prepared to laugh it off as a cringey, Lifetime-movie representation of my experience. Is that what I got? Well...

For the most part, what I got was a ball of anxiety in my chest. It’s well-worn territory, obviously. A teacher bonds with their students from the wrong side of the tracks, and ends up learning just as much from them as they learn from him/her. Usually poetry or music features heavily as a tool that can set the students free from the depressing circumstances of their lives. Depending on the rating, usually a student dies, and the teacher learns just how Important their job is, so they commit to it even harder even though it pays no money and garners no respect from the administration who just doesn’t “get it.” But these cliches and stereotypes and broad strokes exist because at their core, they’re true, and they make me anxious and uncomfortable and I can’t laugh at them or Michelle Pfeiffer being a Nice White Lady because I’m too busy being angry about the systems we put in place that straight up abandon so many kids, all in the name of white supremacy.

Some thoughts:

Oh we’re starting right off the BAT with “Gangsta’s Paradise.” Fantastic news. Two things I associate so strongly with this song is skating around the skating rink in 2nd grade and buying the Weird Al cassingle of “Amish Paradise” and wearing it out. 

Ooh, the score was composed and performed by Wendy & Lisa! Love that, you don’t see nearly as many film scores as you should composed by women.

God, the salary is $24,700 a year and Louanne acts as though that is appealing - I can’t tell if that’s because it was 1995 or because teacher salaries are so dismally low that this feels like a good salary?

This scene in which Louanne goes into her classroom for the first time and the kids are all shouting at her and getting in her face and sexually harassing her and throwing paper balls at her is giving me stress hives. 

Also her friend Griffith (George Dzundza) saying, “You wanna teach, so teach! All you gotta do is get their attention” is rather disingenuous. Trust me, you can have their attention, and still not be able to teach. 

I’m excited to see Sally-Can’t-Dance from Con Air as Raul (Renoly Santiago). He’s honestly fantastic in this, with a tough exterior but a sensitive and gooey inner sweet boy. All of the teens give pretty solid performances, but he’s a real standout.

I recognize this is based on a true story and Louanne Johnson’s lived experience, but I am not sure it’s wise for any teacher, regardless of grade or subject, to be teaching her students how to fight each other. Or taking them to dinner on what looks to outsiders like a date. I know some people have a problem with the bribery (giving her students candy for speaking up in class) but I have no problem with it - you get paid to do all the dumb stuff you don’t want to do at work, why shouldn’t kids be compensated for going to school if they don’t want to be there? External motivation goes a long way to building up internal motivation.

Mm I do love me some Courtney B. Vance, but he’s such a quiet, condescending ass in this. It’s a different vibe than I’m used to seeing in a principal in a movie like this. 

Ooh, Griffith grading papers and saying “What a fuckin’ idiot” is a real mood. 

“Since when has the Board of Education done anything for us? We barely get fuckin lunch” is legit. The lunches my students were served in summer school were some of the most horrifying things I’ve ever seen. One day it was spoiled milk, white bread, and pickles. And one of my students put his in a microwave that was hidden in the back of my classroom behind some dividers and left it for a week. And just so you know, as stomach-churningly awful as that sounds, the day I found “pickle man” as my student called him, isn’t even in my top 5 worst days teaching list. 

I like Griffith, and I’m glad Louanne has a friend, but frankly I’m not that interested in these interludes between them - they really feel like they slow down the momentum from the scenes of her in the classroom slowly earning the kids’ trust. The pacing is kind of a mess, because the most dynamic sections all revolve around the kids in the classroom, and I feel like that only makes up about a third of the movie. 

One thing I know for sure is you do not get in the middle of a fight between students. I have a friend who worked in the same district I did who interrupted a fight and got punched in the face because of it. And her principal blamed her. 

Oh wow the way the soundtrack picks up when Emilio finally engages in the class is some kinda cheesy. And it continues through the rest of the scene to a distracting degree. Oh Wendy and Lisa, I hoped for better. 

Can I just emphasize that to reach these kids, Louanne uses her experience as a LITERAL MARINE by demonstrating she can kick all their asses, and then she bribes them by paying for 25 kids to go to an amusement park for the entire day with her?

Also, even if they like and respect her now, I call bullshit at any scene in which ALL of  the kids are A) sitting in their seats or B) silent, and especially C) both. 

Um suddenly feeling some weird vibes with Louanne and Raul having a dinner date at this fancy restaurant by themselves. Also, the double standard here is pretty telling - there’s no way this scene makes the movie if Louanne had been a male teacher and Raul was a female student.

Wait wait wait, she’s also loaning Raul $200? Like, is this why I didn’t make it as a teacher? Because I wasn’t a former Marine taking students to amusement parks and fancy dinners and lending them money? I was 25 and could barely afford rent. Maybe teachers who have enough money to take care of themselves are better equipped to take care of others. Idk, I’m just spitballin here.

Oh “Gangsta’s Paradise” is happening again! We already heard the whole song over the opening credits but now it’s happening again about 3/4 way through. I mean this song is definitely the best thing about the film, so I get it, but it feels weird that they think we wouldn’t notice it playing to completion twice.

Michelle Pfeiffer is doing everything she can to make this movie feel less cheesy and more real. Like, you can tell she’s really trying with her performance. Of course, it’s not like the character is a huge challenge acting-wise, but she is definitely committed to the part and can walk the line of both accessible and tough. 

This scene where Louanne tells her class she is not going to be there next year, that what happened to Durell and Lionel and Callie and Emilio made her too sad to stay has not aged well at all. And it’s certainly true to life, and I say that as someone who did the same thing. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s a reality - the fact that I’m a nice white lady is exactly the reason that I can choose to leave when things get too hard. Just because the kids convince her to stay at the end in this very rushed “all’s well that ends well” way doesn’t sweep this scene under the rug, and it shouldn’t. 

Ope, “Gangsta’s Paradise” shows up one last time in the credits for good measure. 

Side note: after the film, I researched Louanne, and she’s still teaching, which honestly made me emotional (in a good way). And I’d like to point out the racist ass bullshit the studio and screenwriter Ronald Bass pulled by changing the poems the students read to Bob Dylan lyrics when Louanne originally used rap lyrics from popular artists in ‘89-’90 to teach the kids about poetry. 

Did I Cry? No, but I did get heartburn from anxiety flashbacks.

This genre of film is easy to mock and parody because it tells the same story and hits the same beats to the point that they’ve become cliche. Ultimately, the truth at the heart of the movie (which is the un-nuanced and candy-coated depiction of Johnson’s real memoir, My Posse Don’t Do Homework) is that high schoolers crave someone who will see them and validate them, someone who is willing to put in the effort. The quality of the package that truth is wrapped in varies, and this one certainly leans in hard on stereotypes that feel like cheat codes rather than any real illuminating depictions of living teenagers. But as cringey as it is to watch, maybe it’s not a bad thing to remember that all people - including those who are trapped in poverty and all the cruel injustices that entails - want to be seen and valued for who they really are. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[gojira007]

MORE SONSAL HEADCANONS!  MOOOOORE!!!

Once again, @ninjakasuga​ wrote up a series of SonSal Headcanon Prompts, and once again I’ve been tagged to contribute.  And also once again, I’ve decided to go whole-hog with it, so enjoy some more SonSal 8D

1.) What would a normal non-eventful evening at home for the two be like? 

The sun sets.  Sonic decides to take one last run around the village; Sally watches.  She doesn’t exactly know why she finds it as soothing as she does; maybe it’s just familiarity (or after a certain point nostalgia).  Whatever the reason, though, it’s always a comfort.  He comes back in after a while; she’s picked out a book the two of them can read together.  He always gets really into it when they read together, snuggled up on the couch; he starts up whole conversations about details he finds especially funny or Dramatic.  They’ll have something simple to eat (”something” meaning Chili Dogs for Sonic, like, 99% of the time, but he does like to at least occasionally try out whatever it is Sally’s having), maybe discuss plans for the following day...and then, eventually, without even entirely realizing it, they’ve fallen asleep on top of each other.

2.) Adoption! Yes/No, Why? 

We talked about this a little bit last time, but I do think, if Sonic and Sally were going to have another kid, they’d lean toward Adoption.  Partially because it’s what they know; they effectively did the same thing with Tails, after all, so they have a good sense of what it looks like.  But also, it would in fact be their way of Giving Back, so to speak, of making sure that a kid who lost their family the same way they did would get to have the same kind of support that they did, and that they provided for Tails when he was growing up.  Their hearts, to my mind, would just very naturally go out to a kid in that kind of situation.

3.)  Their Anniversary approaches! What would each do?  

It eventually becomes a bit of a tradition for Sonic to write Sally a song as his anniversary present; the first time through, it is, of course, A Big Deal, but he eventually realizes it means just that little bit more to make it something private, something small and special that the two of them get to share just for themselves.  Sally, meanwhile, uses NICOLE to create a new holographic Racing Course for Sonic that she makes sure is loaded with tricks and tough turns; she knows how much he loves a challenge, and agrees to time him on each one.  And every year, at the end of the day, they go to the Lake of Rings and just...sit together, watching the water and the stars.

4.) Favorite Vacation they took as a couple? 

Angel Island, absolutely.  Partially because it meant sweet-talking Knuckles into letting them do so in the first place, which they both found way, way too fun.  But mostly because they so often visited Angel Island in the past only during times of Crisis; they’d never gotten the chance to just...be there before.  And as it turns out, the gigantic tropical paradise that also gives you a bird’s eye view of the entire planet makes for a gorgeous location.  Besides which, there is so much to do there that they both just love; discovering new mysterious kinds of plants (Sally started up a whole journal just for them!), racing through the jungle, watching all the unique sorts of wild animals that live there...the whole place really is just wonderful, and they’re only sad that they don’t get to see it like that more often.

5.) A special gift they gave the other that really touched their heart. 

 * Once, while venturing into Robotropolis, Sally wound up having to hide out in Uncle Chuck’s old laboratory.  Robotnik had unsurprisingly stripped the place bare of any potentially useful equipment or data a long time ago...but there was one thing he hadn’t noticed: a small lock-box.  Upon investigating it, Sally discovered something she’d never seen before: a faded photograph of Sonic as a child (even younger than when they’d first met!) with Chuck at the future site of the Lake of Rings.  Sally managed to take the box and photo with her back to Knothole without Sonic knowing.  The photo’s colors had faded all but completely, likewise the film it was printed on was so fragile that even the slightest upset could break the whole thing.  So she secretly worked with NICOLE to create a restored version of the picture, which she then gifted to Sonic alongside an explanation of where it had come from.

* Sonic remembered once when he and Sally were kids, she showed him “the Acorn Royal Family Tree”: literally, a small, unique kind of tree planted in the palace gardens.  It used to be a tradition each year for the Royal Family to visit the tree together and see what new blossoms had managed to spring up on it.  Unsurprisingly, the tree was destroyed when Robotnik took over...but as it happened, Sonic was able to discover the seeds during one of his globe-hopping adventures.  He thus privately planted and nurtured it, and once it had begun to fully mature, he made sure to show Sally, promising her that she could visit the tree with her Knothole family the way she had with her father.

6.) Sally’s pregnant, how do they handle the pregnancy ups and downs

Ironically, it becomes something like an Inversion of their usual selves: Sonic goes full Worrywart, freaking out every time Sally’s stomach feels funny or she gets a bit too sweaty or Literally Whatever.  Sally, by contrast, becomes much more impulsive; if she wants to eat, she’ll eat.  If she feels like taking a nap, boom, nap time.  They both love trying to think up names together, too; indeed, they take to brainstorming them almost once every week (and one suspects it takes them as long as it does because they enjoy the Game of it too much to let it go; seeing how absurd their suggestions can go before they can get the other to laugh is a particular favorite).  

7.) Parenting, how do they tackle it together? 

You would think much the same way they did with Tails, and indeed if there’s any one thing they do take away from that, it’s their ability to work together in making sure the kid get support, attention, protection, and love.  But, assuming this new kid comes after the end of the War (which I choose to believe, because I absolutely don’t think they would intentionally have a kid during the War), the truth is, much like with the pregnancy, it plays out almost like the reverse: Sonic is a very protective Dad, and wants to make sure his kid doesn’t have to learn about the harshness of the world until they absolutely have to.  Sally, meanwhile, works very hard to give the kid access to new ideas and experiences; she is very eager to give her kid the kind of childhood she’d always wanted.  Still, while this occasionally leads to disagreements on How Much Is Too Much/Too Soon, at the end of the day they are every bit as much a Team as parents as they were as Freedom Fighters, and as such they do a really good job of delegating and sharing responsibilities.    

8.) Which of them is the parent to freak out most when their kid/s get into the dating age? 

Honestly?  They both take it pretty well.  Assuming their kid ends up showing much interest in dating to begin with, by that point they’ve both learned to trust their kid enough that while they will absolutely be mindful for signs of unhappiness or Cause For Alarm, they’re also not going to interfere too much; even Sonic The Protective Dad knows well enough how important it is to give kids space to make their own choices on this front.  

9.) Who starfishes the most? 

Sally, absolutely and without question.  Like...Sonic can get tuckered out sometimes, but not much, and when he does it’s an easy enough thing for him to nap off.  But when Sally gets exhausted?  She gets EXHAUSTED.  And that means a good, long Starfishing is in order.  Sonic does like teasing her about this sometimes, but for the most part he honestly finds it adorable.

10.) Oh no, one of them is sick, how do they handle tending to their loved one? 

Here, at last, we see them very much in the Modes we would expect: Sally goes Full Doctor, checking every bit of medical data she can find, comparing symptoms, preparing five gajillion different treatments (in descending order of Back-Up In Case The Previous Treatment Doesn’t Work), that sort of thing.  Sonic, meanwhile, is more reactive; whatever Sally needs, she just has to ask and he’ll do it in a flash.  Hot soup?  Cold press?  Another blanket?  Name it, it’s done.  

[hithisischris]

The things I’d do to her//J.W.//

Request! Yes

I’m sorry this is the first one hope you like it! Thank you for requesting. This was my first time writing smut but ahaha hell has a special place for us hope it wasn’t to cringey lol. Enjoy :)

Warning: smut, I’m a bad writer and a sinner sorry

On days Scott and Jeff recorded SkotCast y/n was not supposed to be there so she could watch the video later it was an agreement that Jeff and her came up so the podcast wouldn’t be ruined for y/n. Jeff and y/n have been going out for 6 months and they had a set order, days of recording and posting; luckily enough they were both in the same franchise so it had never been a bother when one had to film a video.

Y/n who knew recordings of the SkotCast would take place at Jeff’s place she decided to record a vlog with the girls, the girls being Carly, Erin, Natalie, Mariah, Corrina and Kristen they had all been good friends for a while and if it hadn’t been for Natalie, Jeff and y/n wouldn’t have met. As the girls walked into Starbucks and discussed what they’d be doing for the day back at Jeff’s apartment the SkotCast had started well but Scott began asking the “to much information” questions as y/n called them. Scott who had no filter at the moment asked “what’s one thing you think off when you see y/n walk into a room” without hesitating or even thinking it through Jeff who had always decided to keep his and y/n’s relationship private said “well okay when she walks into the room it’s not something cute, okay sometimes it is but most of the times I first think of how I’d love to wrap my hands around her throat and just take her there” Scott who was shocked started laughing really hard making Jeff red by his confession he immediately felt fluster and started off next with “fuck I’m sorry if you’re under the age to hear words like that sometimes I just open my mouth and it talks. Scott I beg please edit that out” Scott laughed and replied back with “no can do that’s the juicy content for today’s podcast” he laughed it off and kept it in the back of his mind hoping y/n would decide to not listen to this podcast.

After and hour of recording content both y/n and Jeff had met up at TacoBell for a snack. Although Jeff knew the right thing was to tell her he was reluctant and decided against it. Allowing the video to be uploaded with no warning.

Usually when y/n got the notification about the podcast she’s drop everything to watch the video but that night she had decided to edit early and have the vlog ready to be posted on the day of. After 2 hours of editing y/n’s phone that lay next to her started to be spammed with twitter notifications she had been sure it might have been a photo Jeff posted of them together but when she noticed Jeff had gone off into his room to take a nap she glanced at her phone and one of the first thing she sees is:

“god why did Jeff saying that about Y/n sound so fucking hot she is so lucky wtf” getting curious she opened the tweet opening the attached clip of the podcast and raising the volume she saw her boyfriend sitting with the mic on his hands and she smiled but what came out of his mouth next left her shocked, “it’s not something cute, okay sometimes it is but most of the times I first think of how I’d love to wrap my hands around her throat and just take her there” she sat there computer completely forgotten and eyes wide.

Y/n wasn’t mad she was just shocked Jeff never liked talking about their relationship and mostly felt that it should be something sweet and private, it kinda turned her on even knowing that her loving boyfriend thinks that way when she walks into a room. Taking the computer off her lap and setting her phone down she headed to the room in which Jeff slept. “Big baby wake up” she nudged his cheeks when he didn’t even stir she straddled his backside and he moved his head from one side to the other whole still sleeping and y/n started to massage his back and kiss the part of his neck that was easy access to.

Jeff opened his eyes finally feeling her hands on his back and said “well this is a nice wake” which y/n answered with a soft laugh and “I saw that clip in the podcast” Jeff who had his eyes closed had opened them wide fearing his comment might strike an argument but on y/n’s mind there were different plans and she said “I thought it was hot that you think that of me baby” she lifted herself from him and he turned on his back while she stood next to the bed she looked down on Jeff and he smirked.

Picking her up he put her on his thighs and rubbed his hands on her thighs, y/n leaned down to kiss him passionately and as they made out she started to grind on his crotch feeling him go hard he pulled away and took her shirt off leaving her chest bare. In front of him she never felt shy and she smiled down at him and slid off the shorts she was wearing Jeff slid out of his sweats and grabbed her by the waist laying her on the bed and as he traveled down her stomach she was getting wetter by the second and as he reached her core he teased her with soft licks then inserting a finger after a couple minutes of this y/n was euphoric and felt her relief coming to an end as she moaned and pulled on Jeff’s hair he knew she was close going slowly so she could enjoy herself and as she came undone he smirked at him taking his fingers and licking them clean.

She was breathless but as she picked herself up and put Jeff on the bed so she could ride him, he was loving how she looked, chest bare and hair a mess but gorgeous he smiled at her and she gave him a kiss as she slipped down on his cock and he let out a shaggy moan, y/n started at slow pace teasing Jeff a bit but giving him satisfaction he got relentless after a while and grabbed her waist to ram himself into her allowing slapping sound of their skins to be heard throughout the apartment they moaned in union and came undone together. That night Jeff was not at all regretful for letting the public know of his views on his girlfriend.

[rogerina-yee-haw]

"Oranges"

Joe Mazzello x Reader One shot

summary: your elder brother has a best friend and you've been in love with this guy since you were five. But this guy is Joe Mazzello and he doesn't love you back. Or this is just what you think.

word count: 2,4K+

a/n: I wrote this some time ago for my baby @starfleet-wannabe 💓 since my girl received some amazing news this week, I decided to finally post this fic, because Erin deserves a lot of Joe and good stuff in her life ily bby ❤💕💝💞💖

tagging my love @chicagoblackhawkslover96 cause she asked and cause i love her very dearly!💖💕🖤❤✨

warnings: fluff!! fluff!! fluff!! some angst (just a tiny bit), implied smut and typos (as usual lmao)

Oranges.

When you were five, Joe gave you two oranges, because you were crying over a broken toy. He was fifteen, tall and very sweet, while asking you what happened and smiling at you softly. He had been your brother’s best friend since forever, and you grew up having him around; so Joe, hanging out in your house on the regular basis, wasn't an unusual thing.

When he gave you those two oranges - your favorite fruit - your heart skipped a bit for the first time in your life. You didn’t know what happened and why it happened, but you certainly liked the feeling. It made you feel sweet and nice, and you stopped crying immediately. You shared the oranges with Joe as you two were sitting on the grass in your backyard; he kept on smiling and asking about your day - just to distract you from the broken toy.

“Joe!” your brother ran out, panting as he spoke. “Come on, the boys are waiting!”

“I’m having a very serious conversation with your sister, Chris!”

Your brother huffed and winced. “This can wait. Besides, if we don’t go now, Chloe will leave the party”.

You saw the way Joe’s eyes sparked when your brother mentioned the girl’s name, and he got up and left with Chris, telling you to be careful at last. You still remember how your little heart ached when he left.

You accidentally threw an orange at his head when you were fifteen yourself. You aspired to be a juggler and Joe was laughing at you as you were telling him about it.

“You can’t be a juggler,” he said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Your mom won’t simply let you”.

You rolled your eyes. “I bet your ass, Mazzello. When she sees my skills, she’ll understand that there’s no other choice for me. I’m a great juggler”.

“No, you’re not”.

“You wanna bet?”

He let out a deep sigh and then looked at you; his hazel eyes were scamming you, trying to burn you down - or you would state it like that. You were lost in his gaze. Lost and found only in him. “I’ve never understood your terrible desire to bet on everything, Y/N”.

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “You know I’m good. You’re just a pussy, Mazzello”.

He rolled his eyes at your remark. “We both know that Chris is the biggest pussy in this household. But alright. Show me your skills”.

You took three oranges from the bowl, two in your left hand and one in the right, and took a deep breath. “Goddamn it, Y/L/N, it’s not like your life depends on it or something”.

“Shut up, Joe”.

You started juggling the oranges and it was really bad. They were falling from your hands right on the floor or on the kitchen table; you were picking them up, starting juggling again, and Joe was just wheezing. He was holding his hands on his stomach, cackling and tilting his head back, as he was laughing loudly. He didn’t even notice that you stopped juggling and just kept on laughing. You clenched your jaw and started breathing heavily, as you felt anger rising from your stomach to your chest. You took one orange and threw it right into his forehead, making him jump from his seat and look at you shockingly.

“The fuck are you doing, Y/L/N?”

Your answer was simple. “Juggling”.

As Joe was plotting his revenge, your mom walked into the kitchen, ruining the moment. “Joey! I didn’t know you were back!”

“Yeah, Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m here for a couple of weeks. Life in Los Angeles is very-”

“Boring”, you finished for him. He glared at you and sighed heavily.

“No, Y/N. It is very stressful”.

“Of course it is. Especially with you and Chris working yourselves off there”.

Despite being rather angry with each other, you and Joe involuntary shared glances. Your brother wasn’t the hard-working one, in contrast to Joe.

"So, your mom told me you have a girlfriend. As your god-mother, I would be very happy to see her and approve of your choice”, your mother smiled lightly and you rolled your eyes. Of course, Joe had a girlfriend. Of course. He was twenty-five years old, he should have had someone. At this age, your parents were already married with a child. Of course.

“Oh, trust me, you won’t regret meeting her”.

He smiled so widely and happily that your heart sank, making you believe that you and he would never happen. He was ten years older than you, an actor and your brother’s best friend, who never considered you to be more than a little girl, crying over a broken toy.

Even three years later, when he practically stumbled upon you on your prom night, he still didn’t see you as an adult. You were eighteen then, already legal, wearing a short pink dress, that was giving easy access for observing your long legs - even then Joe didn’t see you as a possible romantic interest.

“Wow, sorry, Y/N”, he said after you hit each other accidentally with your shoulders. He looked you up and down and gave you a cheeky grin. “Going out?”

“Prom night. Waiting for my date”.

He hummed in response. “Got it. Have a nice night. But don’t drink too much. Well, you should drink as it is your senior prom, but don’t get agitated like-”

“Joe”, you interrupted his rambling. “I got it. You can stop giving me a lecture, Chris has already done that today. Twice”.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just…” he sighed as he looked you straight in the eyes. “You just grew up so fast. I still remember you crying over that broken Barbie”. He smiled and your heart melted. Maybe it was the first time you realized that you loved him - desperately and infinitely. You loved his hazel eyes, that were looking right into your soul, his soft ginger hair, his sweet smile and him.

You felt your breath hitching, and your eyes started looking everywhere but at Joe - and it was a straight sign of you being nervous and flustered. So you tried to hide it, by chucking and turning your head away. “Yeah, I guess. That Barbie was pretty important to me, you know”. He laughed and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I remember. Good luck tonight, Y/N”.

He remembered. Your heart pounded crazily in your chest throughout the whole night; and not because your date was a hot guy who wanted to get in your pants the entire time, but because Joe remembered. You came back home in the morning, with messy hair and your lipstick smudged all over your face from kissing with your date; only to find a glass of water, an orange, and a note on your bedside table.

“Oranges help with the hungover. Trust me. Joe.”

Now you were twenty-five, the same age Joe was when you threw an orange at his head. You couldn't call yourself a juggler, because the only thing you juggled with were your emotions as you were on the edge of mental breakdown while working with kids. Teaching maths in middle-school made you go crazy, as your students didn’t always listen to what you said. You saw your family rarely and, instead, you saw Joe almost every day. You couldn’t get enough of each other when you stumbled upon one another in February.

He just got back from filming “Bohemian Rhapsody” and you were coming home after a long day of dealing with middle-schoolers. You met in Starbucks and hearing him say, “Sugar honey iced tea, Y/N!” made your day much better. It also brought back all the feelings you had for him, all the love you tried to get rid of your entire life. You lived in a small flat with your cat Nancy and had a failed engagement behind your shoulders. And Joe was the sun that shined through the darkness and brought you back to life. He had breakups, heartbreaks and a lot of pain in his life, but still remained happy and excited about everything. At that moment you hadn’t seen each other for a year - and it seemed that it would take you the same amount of time to catch up on. You had talked for three hours, looking at each other and slightly touching one another. His gaze was constantly fixed on you, as he was looking at your face, into your eyes and staring quite obviously at your lips. You were giggling like crazy at every joke he told, tucking your hair behind your ears and biting your lips. You were all grown and legal, you thought, he should do something with it.

You were by Joe’s side through his darkest and saddest moments, holding his hand and hugging him tightly, while he was crying, clinging onto you as if his life depended on it. You spent more time with him rather than with your family, and your mother noticed it but didn’t say anything. She just silently watched Joe finally falling in love with you.

Summer was nearing its end, and you and Joe were even closer now. You spent too much time together for it just to be called “friendship”. You used to hang out at his place much more, as it was bigger and you liked it more than your own. He said yours was much cozier and he couldn't stop gushing about Nancy who seemed to love him even more than her rightful owner.

In August your childhood friend invited you to her wedding, and Joe was your “+1”, as you just couldn't show up alone to the wedding where you ex-fiance should have been with his new girlfriend. Your ex didn’t even bother you that much, you just wanted to be with Joe. As you have always wanted.

He held your hand and had his arm over your shoulder the entire time, and you kept smiling non-stop. At one point, when you were standing outside, shaking under the cool summer wind, he wrapped his jacket around your shoulders and kissed you. He tasted the way you always imagined - like oranges and summer. You answered to his kiss, leaning in closer, trying to get as much of him as possible. When he pulled away, you both were breathing heavily and grinning.

“Wanted to do it since February”, he whispered, and it sent shivers down your spine. You smiled softly and took his face in your hands, and kissed him again. You couldn't get enough of him. He couldn't get enough of you. That led to you two going to his apartment.

You ripped each other’s clothes off and you squeaked - you didn’t have anything else to wear to go home in the morning. “Don’t think I’ll let you go that easily”, Joe said in between kisses and you smiled, taking his blazer off.

Since you were introduced to the world of sex, you had been dreaming of this moment. You spent hours, thinking of Joe - while masturbating or regularly daydreaming or even when having sex with any of your partners. You imagined him like this, between your legs, fucking you into oblivion, too many times; but in reality, everything was much better. Joe kissed you feverishly, hungrily, like he had been starving for eternity. You both were sweaty, out of breath and happy.

"That's a weird thing to do", he noticed when the two of you were having breakfast at eleven in the morning, too fucked out to wake up earlier after hours of devouring each other.

"What exactly?" you furrowed your brows and looked at him.

“Eating oranges with coffee for breakfast", he shrugged his shoulders.

"Your fucking fridge is empty! Oranges are the only eatable thing in there. Or do you expect me to eat that old sandwich?"

"It's not old! It's been there just for a week."

"It's rotten, Mazzello."

"No, it's not! You don't understand how a refrigerator works apparently!"

"Well, enlighten me then, you fucking smartass!"

And the way he spoke about the work of the fridge - telling you his one was the most special on the planet - made you fall into him deeper and deeper. You realized that you hadn't ever even loved before Joe - and was it, ever, a-before-Joe phase? It seemed to be non-existent. You had spent your whole life, trying to run away from these feelings, trying to fall for someone else, just to forget him. But it wasn't possible. Ever.

So when he kept on ranting about fridges and how his sandwich was not rotten - you felt in love with him more than at any time before. It was something magical about this moment: the sun was piercing through the window, Joe's eyes glued to yours and - oh god - you didn't know it was possible to love someone that much.

"So when you say it's rotten, it's really-"

"I've been in love with you since I was five", you blurted out, being completely unable to control your emotions. Joe stopped talking and stared at you, without even blinking.

"W-What?"

"It's stupid", you gulped; why on Earth would you even say that out loud? "I shouldn't have said it. I don't want to put any pressure on you, it's idiotic, we just fucked for once and I'm already saying this type of shit-"

"Me too".

Your brows drew together. "What?"

"I've been in love with you too", he said firmly, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. "Not since I was five or something, you weren't even born then", Joe started babbling like a little kid and it made you chuckle; but you could already feel the tears forming in your eyes. "Maybe for a year. Maybe when I saw you with that piece of shit you were going to marry - maybe then I realized that I've been hopelessly and stupidly in love with you, Y/N".

Joe's eyes sparkled in the soft sun that was gleaming throughout the kitchen and you felt like crying just because of a loving look you saw in them. It was this pure bliss you had been dreaming about. It was everything you could have ever asked for.

And it was Joe. The man you fell in love with too long ago. And you couldn't be happier.

[newstfionline]

Headlines

Juneteenth takes on new meaning amid push for racial justice (AP) Protesters marched over the Brooklyn Bridge, chanted “We want justice now!” near St. Louis’ Gateway Arch, stopped work at West Coast ports and paused for a moment of silence at the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial in Washington, as Americans marked Juneteenth with new urgency Friday amid a nationwide push for racial justice. The holiday, which commemorates the emancipation of enslaved African Americans, is usually celebrated with parades and festivals but became a day of protest this year in the wake of demonstrations set off by George Floyd’s killing at the hands of Minneapolis police. In addition to traditional cookouts and readings of the Emancipation Proclamation—the Civil War-era order that declared all enslaved people free in Confederate territory—Americans of all backgrounds were marching, holding sit-ins or taking part in car caravan protests. Thousands gathered at a religious rally in Atlanta. Hundreds marched from St. Louis’ Old Courthouse, where the Dred Scott case partially played out, a pivotal one that denied citizenship to African Americans but galvanized the anti-slavery movement. Protesters and revelers held signs in Dallas, danced to a marching band in Chicago and registered people to vote in Detroit.

Law enforcement families face harassment, vandalism, and threats at home (Washington Examiner) Law enforcement officers say they and their families face harassment and bullying by strangers and neighbors as a result of a nationwide crackdown on law enforcement following protests around the death of George Floyd. One former Minneapolis police officer, Derek Chauvin, faces a charge of second-degree murder over the 46-year-old black man’s death. The episode triggered nationwide protests over police practices and some violence and looting. At the same time, police officers around the nation, facing scrutiny by local, state, and federal officials, say morale is down in local departments. Budgets have been cut, and overtime pay for shifts during protests has been slashed. And the homes of police officers have been vandalized while anti-law enforcement activists have watched them from outside. Paul Chabot, a retired deputy sheriff reserve out of San Bernardino County, California, who runs a website that helps officers relocate to police friendly municipalities, told the Washington Examiner that officers and their wives who reach out to him reveal their children are targeted as well. “It’s not the same like it was even just two weeks ago, three weeks ago, just because they’re a law enforcement family now. Their kids are being targeted by people in the neighborhood.”

The battle over masks in a pandemic: An all-American story (Washington Post) In this sprawling, heterogeneous country, the pandemic has become yet another thing on which Americans are divided. Mask-wearing for some people is an identifier of broader beliefs and political leanings. Like so many issues rooted in science and medicine, the pandemic is now fully entangled with ideological tribalism. This has played out before: helmets for motorcyclists, seat belts in cars, smoking bans in restaurants. All of those measures provoked battles over personal liberty. Now it’s masks and the coronavirus, with face coverings emerging as an emblem for what cleaves the nation. A flurry of recent studies supports wearing cloth face coverings as a means to limit transmission of the novel coronavirus, which causes the illness covid-19. To many people, masks represent adherence to civic duty and a willingness to make individual sacrifices for the greater good of public health. To others, masks symbolize government overreach and a violation of personal liberty.

U.S. Watched George Floyd Protests in 15 Cities Using Aerial Surveillance (NYT) The Department of Homeland Security deployed helicopters, airplanes and drones over 15 cities where demonstrators gathered to protest the death of George Floyd, logging at least 270 hours of surveillance, far more than previously revealed, according to Customs and Border Protection data. The department’s dispatching of unmanned aircraft over protests in Minneapolis last month sparked a congressional inquiry and widespread accusations that the federal agency had infringed on the privacy rights of demonstrators. But that was just one piece of a nationwide operation that deployed resources usually used to patrol the U.S. border for smugglers and illegal crossings. Aircraft filmed demonstrations in Dayton, Ohio; New York City; Buffalo and Philadelphia, among other cities, sending video footage in real time to control centers managed by Air and Marine Operations, a branch of Customs and Border Protection. The footage was then fed into a digital network managed by the Homeland Security Department, called “Big Pipe,” which can be accessed by other federal agencies and local police departments for use in future investigations, according to senior officials with Air and Marine Operations.

Barber offers hope in Peruvian barrios devastated by virus (AP) Once a week, barber Josué Yacahuanca makes his way up the dusty hills of Peru’s capital, heading into its poorest neighborhoods carrying a treasured golden briefcase that holds his life’s passion—five clipper blades, 20 combs, four scissors and a bottle with alcohol. Yacahuanca seeks out clients devastated by a coronavirus lockdown that has gone on for nearly 100 days in an attempt to stem the wave of new infections. He does it for free. “I want them to look in the mirror and see a bit of hope,” said Yacahuanca, who though just 21 years old is a veteran barber, having started cutting hair at age 13. Yacahuanca had a rocky start in life himself. Abandoned by his mother, he was raised by his godmother, Gloria Alvarez. Despite obstacles, he discovered a business savvy at a young age. He hustled at odd jobs, selling sweets, cleaning houses, working in outdoor markets and at a bus station.

Brazil tops 1 million cases as coronavirus spreads inland (AP) Brazil’s government confirmed on Friday that the country has risen above 1 million confirmed coronavirus cases, second only to the United States. Official data show a downward trend of the virus in Brazil’s north, including the hard-hit region of the Amazon, a plateau in cases and deaths in the countries’ biggest cities near the Atlantic coast, but a rising curve in the south. In the Brazilian countryside, which is much less prepared to handle a crisis, the pandemic is clearly growing. Many smaller cities have weaker health care systems and basic sanitation that’s insufficient to prevent contagion.

European powers refuse to back U.S. call for escalating Iran sanctions (Washington Post) France, Germany and Britain said they will not support reimposing sanctions on Iran if a U.N. arms embargo is not extended, but they urged Tehran to allow inspectors into sites where nuclear material may be stockpiled.

China unveils details of national security law for Hong Kong amid backlash (Reuters) Beijing unveiled details of its new national security law for Hong Kong on Saturday, paving the way for the most profound change to the city’s way of life since it returned to Chinese rule in 1997. The much-anticipated legislation, which has provoked deep concerns in Washington and Europe, includes a national security office for Hong Kong to collect intelligence and handle crimes against national security, the official Xinhua news agency reported. It said Hong Kong leader Carrie Lam could also appoint specific judges to hear national security cases, a move likely to unnerve some investors, diplomats and business leaders in the global financial hub. China says the draft law is aimed at tackling separatist activity, subversion, terrorism and collusion with foreign forces, but critics fear it will crush wide-ranging freedoms that are seen as key to Hong Kong’s status as a global financial centre.

Egyptian president says Libyan city Sirte a ‘red line’ (AP) Egypt’s president Saturday warned that an attempt by Turkey-backed forces in Libya to attack the strategic city of Sirte would cross a “red line” and trigger a direct Egyptian military intervention into the conflict. Abdel Fattah el-Sissi, in televised comments, said Egypt could intervene in neighboring Libya with the intention of protecting its western border with the oil-rich country, and to bring stability, including establishing conditions for a cease-fire, to Libya. El-Sissi warned that any attack on Sirte or the inland Jufra air base by forces loyal to the U.N.-supported but weak government in Tripoli would amount to crossing a “red line.” “Let’s stop at this (current) front line and start negotiations to reach a political solution to the Libyan crisis,” he said.

Ethiopia to fill disputed dam, deal or no deal (AP) It’s a clash over water usage that Egypt calls an existential threat and Ethiopia calls a lifeline for millions out of poverty. Just weeks remain before the filling of Africa’s most powerful hydroelectric dam might begin, and tense talks between the countries on its operation have yet to reach a deal. In an interview with The Associated Press, Ethiopian Foreign Minister Gedu Andargachew on Friday declared that his country will go ahead and start filling the $4.6 billion Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam next month, even without an agreement. “For us it is not mandatory to reach an agreement before starting filling the dam, hence we will commence the filling process in the coming rainy season,” he said. “We are working hard to reach a deal, but still we will go ahead with our schedule whatever the outcome is. If we have to wait for others’ blessing, then the dam may remain idle for years, which we won’t allow to happen,” he said. He added that “we want to make it clear that Ethiopia will not beg Egypt and Sudan to use its own water resource for its development,” pointing out that Ethiopia is paying for the dam’s construction itself. He spoke after the latest round of talks with Egypt and Sudan on the dam, the first since discussions broke down in February, failed to reach agreement.

Congo president’s chief of staff guilty in corruption trial (AP) A court in Congo on Saturday sentenced the president’s chief of staff, Vital Kamerhe, to 20 years of forced labor after he was found guilty of corruption and embezzlement of more than $50 million. His lawyers said they would appeal. Kamerhe, 61, has called the trial a political attack on himself and President Felix Tshisekedi, who has not commented on the case. The charges stem from what the court said was “unequivocal” participation in the embezzlement of money from projects undertaken by the president during his first 100 days in office last year.

[vestigialtext]

Euphorroria

[TW suicide, self-harm] 

Imagine you turn around there’s suddenly a perfectly circular swirling hole open in the floor, emanating a hazy purple glow and a kind of pulsing, reverb-drenched celestial siren song, like the single sickest shoegaze riff you’ve ever heard.

You think, huh, wow, that’s a pretty weird trip-hazard, and erect some cordons to stop anyone falling in. But you become fixated on the hole, staring in unblinking for hours. It’s curious, it’s beautiful, it’s sonically enchanting, it’s perfumed with a kind of partially floral, partially cardomomic, partially metallic scent which just encroaches on the sickly-sweet – but you still want a taste.

The hole, as it happens, is a portal to insanity.

This is how I experience hypomania; standing steady-of-foot behind the barrier, gazing at wonder to the insanity, hearing its call but keeping a safe distance.

Mania would see me leap the barrier, approach too close, and invariably slip in screaming.

Psychosis, meanwhile, would see me fall in, try to either fight it or fuck it, turn it inside out and prolapse it back through into rational reality, the fabric of which world begin to collapse as internal and external landscapes collide and splinter into one and other and I approach self-oblivion.

A full psychotic break has only happened twice in my lifetime, and frankly I’m lucky to be here writing this drivel – my second episode, nearly a decade ago, almost killed me and left me with almost impossible-to-comprehend scars I’ll bear for the rest of my life, scars invisible to the observer but forever altering my perception of the world, scars I’ve made peace with but which continue to niggle every day. Without getting deep into the nightmarish details, I tried – and, thank fuck, failed – to blind myself, resulting in bilateral scarred corneas which mean that, while my vision remains entirely functional and luckily unimpaired to any significant degree, I experience constant, curious aberrations, especially in low-light where the world melts into a sea of halos.

Importantly, I’m still alive. I very nearly leapt into the Thames on the morning of 10/03/2010, and not through depressive, I-can’t-bear-to-live anguish, but due to chasing immensely powerful delusions and hallucinations to the same place that almost cost me my sight. There’s a lot I’ve written and lot I will write about my experiences of psychosis – particularly re the corrupted internal logic that catalysed much of my bizarre, life-ruining behaviour in 2003 and 2010 – but not here, not now.

Mania, the losing control of my inhibitions and tripping headfirst into hyperactive chaos, has occurred three times in my life, but only progressed through to psychosis twice. I had my first (and to date, only quickly-controlled) manic episode age 16, following a few months as an inpatient at an adolescent psychiatric in Newcastle (remember when the NHS used to offer those kind of services lol). Up until that point, I had been being treated for major depression, which was my diagnosis until the mania emerged. I don’t quite remember the specifics – I celebrated the 20th anniversary of my bipolar 1 diagnosis last month – but one day it seems the depressive fog suddenly cleared and my mind, robbed of feel-good shit for so long, lurched as far as it could in the opposite direction as some kind of bizarre compensatory push.

Perhaps the flip was inevitable, perhaps it was triggered by a chemical predisposition to mania plus guzzling down combinations of all the anti-depressant variants that could be feasibly prescribed for the preceding three months. Who can say. Whatever the case, suddenly I was bouncing around the hospital halls like Sonic the Hedgehog, talking borderline-gibberish garbage incessantly, getting back deep into abandoned A-level art projects and attempting to start roughly 1,000 extracurricular projects simultaneously. The doctors quickly took notice, brought me down with lithium and revised my diagnosis.

Hypomania, (literally “below mania”), is something I experience on average a few times a year, hitting in waves, usually with a clear trigger. It’s a glimpse at the maelstrom of insanity without actually dipping a toe. Delusional ideas can creep into my head, but I can analyse and dismiss them rationally with a firm “No.” I now have enough insight and experience of my own sensations and mood pattern recognition to usually ward off a manic episode, typically with self-seclusion and/or self-management, sometimes with medication. Zopiclone, a sedative, has proven to be something of a magic bullet at sniping down incoming mania, so I try to keep a stash handy – I popped one Saturday gone just to try and keep the train on the rails after barely sleeping for two weeks straight.

After accepting I was an alcoholic six years ago, I’ve gone entirely teetotal, and that itself has greatly improved my ability to monitor myself, to try and regulate my own mood – previously, I’d (technically binge)-drink more or less every single day, and drown out any troublesome hypomanic episode with even more booze, remaining entirely functional (if prone to starting each day with a big purging sick and then having a couple of practically clockwork spew breaks at work) until my liver and my nervous system started wildly red-flagging at the sheer relentless demands I was asking of them, the perpetual nature of my misguided self-medication, so I decided to stop dead drinking or risk further ruining my health.

Without in any way wishing to belittle or underestimate the impact of the disease (severe, bulk-of-a-year depression episodes have also nearly killed me) I feel like depression is something even people who don’t suffer from mental health problems can at least begin to comprehend, can take a stab at imagining the experience. Perhaps not the depths – the eroding, claustrophobic mental space, the glimmer of hope on the horizon disappearing into darkness, all sensory input turning to a grey mush, the head-in-a–tomb depersonalisation – but most people can relate to being “sad”, most people have experienced tragedy at some point in their lives. Hypomania, however, is a trickier prospect to explain. But I’ll try.

I can’t speak for others who experience the condition, but in my case, hypomania manifests itself across my whole physical, mental, emotional spectrum. Although other factors come into play, the biggest single trigger for me seems to be sleep deprivation. It’s no news that circadian rhythms and bipolar disorder are intrinsically interlinked, and I have very real first-hand experience. As a shiftworker (occasional nightshift worker) who lives on the opposite side of London to my office and has a four-month old daughter, my current sleep hygiene is pretty... ropey to say the least, so I’m trying to be extra vigilant. A few nights back-to-back of little sleep (I’m talking a hour or two, at the best of times my sleep is shit anyway and five hours is a good stint) I can often feel my mood changing gears.

Simply put, when I’m hypomanic, the world is a more engaging place; more detail fills the cracks, more edges pique my interest. All of my senses sharpen up – my vision becomes cleaner, brighter, more vivid, sound seemingly has additional frequency space, imperceptible before. My senses of smell and taste overwhelm me, aromas become intoxicating and normal food takes on gourmet qualities. My energy level skyrockets without any additional external input; I have much more impetus, enthusiasm about life, work, whatever. I can literally feel my mind starting to function differently – but not necessarily more efficiently – taking shortcuts, randomly accessing memories in remarkable detail without any prompt. I can think faster, but with less focus; I’m more distractible and will happily shoot off on wild tangents with complete disregard for my goal. Depending on circumstances at home or work, hypomania is a mixed bag – any lethargy is dispelled and my agency and job satisfaction is heightened, but I might, say, approach 20 tasks simultaneously when sequentially would be more rational.

Depending on social context, I expend varyingly extreme amounts of effort to varying degrees of success attempting to mask a hypomanic episode. You know how your body never really “heals”, and scurvy horrifyingly opens up old scars and shit? That’s kind of what my ever-simmering mental illness feels like when i’m consistently deprived of sleep for whatever reason, the cracks start appearing and it kinda seeps out a bit lol. I am well aware my hypomanic demeanour and delivery can alarm people, and I do try really, really, really hard to suppress things or if absolutely required, just remove myself from situations where a lasting, detrimental opinion could be formed. I am also fully aware I can become borderline intolerable to my long-suffering and remarkably patient wife, and I try to mitigate the condition’s impact on domesticity, again, only ever partially-successfully (sorry, Kate). On any given day, high, low, or creamy middle, I’d estimate around about 90% of my effort is put towards just trying to appear normal to others, trying to blend in. I imagine many other mentally ill people are broadly intolerant to open-plan hotdesking (not to mention the insatiable clock-in-and-hit-marks demands of capitalism).

I can physically feel my body “running hotter” when I’m hypomanic, like an overclocked CPU frazzling on a motherboard; headaches spark quickly if I don’t drink enough water. I’m not especially clued up on chemical synthesis of naturally-occurring hormones etc. but I kinda get the impression hypomania is little like organic, high-on-your-own-supply MDMA.

Hypomania seems to foster within me a deeper connection to and longing to revisit all of my favourite music, art, writing, films, games, people – chiefly, I go on obsessive listening binges of records I adore. As I mentioned earlier, my hearing changes when I’m hypomanic – songs sound better, richer, more punchy. One of my fondest ever memories of mental illness (sadly ruined by slipping into psychosis shortly afterwards) was walking around out at night listening to My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless on shitty earbuds via a Spotify stream and still hearing subtle elements blossoming from the mix I’d never clocked before; layers of what sounded like processed flutes fluttering under the wall of guitars, gentle tonal ebs and flows, what seemed to be entire hidden tracks I was only just tuning in to, a secret sound world unveiled.

This might well just be wild conjecture, but I like to think maybe some bands – the bands who “get it” – deliberately bury this audio information deep within the mix, only to be decoded by specific mental setups, be they drug-indicted or naturally, hormonally occurring, breadcrumb trails left in the studio production as a little nod by whoever put the music together that they understand the confusion, the dislocation and alienation of mental illness, something extra beyond the lyrics. It might well be bullshit but it brings me great comfort. I’ve put together a playlist of some favourite tunes I suspect were written about hypomanic states, knowingly or otherwise, or instead conjure up that specific vibe.

To be honest, the hardest thing I find about dealing with episodes of hypomania is that they can feel so good it’s very hard to not attempt to stoke the sensation, prolong it, succumb deeper to it. That way oblivion lies; please stand behind the yellow line at all times.

[internetremix]

In IR lore, what are the personalities of your personas? Basic likes and dislikes?

Kristen: Goggles is An Child and behaves as such. She's very cheerful, very curious, a bit mischievous and also 100% obsessed with making fanwork of her internet family... like a goddamn weirdo. She'll usually be hanging out with everyone, spot some sort of inspiration, squeak with joy and then rush off to write or draw. She's also the defacto leader of the Smol Squad, which is composed of herself, Shyner, Jojo and Chi-chi, and she's usually the one squeaking out ridiculous plans in muppet for dumb shit like stealing cookies and trying to trap people in fanfiction scenarios. She likes to help and can often be found doing such things as assisting Xander in his many schemes or just popping up to provide shit like charts or hold things for other people- basically whenever it would be funny to have some goddamn muppet backing something up.

She loves plush toys, particularly Crockernanner, and also loves sugar, star decorations, and cuddles. She likes being picked up and loves attention, and she's pretty consistently attached to at least one person, often her big brother Split if she's not with the Smol Squad. She is in eternal war with Phill since he bullies her constantly, and will occasionally try to set up elaborate traps for revenge only to fail miserably. Also she's a huge weeb. She does not like to sleep and will often go days without it before being dragged off by some bigger person to take a goddamn nap you ridiculous child.  She is also very afraid of thunderstorms, she doesn't like loud noises or the dark.

She also has... various flaws and problems. But those are spoilers and I have no idea when/if we’ll be doing story stuff with IRsonas so I don’t want to give too much away with that.

Sorry this is very long, I think about my child a lot.

Jojo: JoJo is also a very happy child... like, stupid happy all the time. Like, they don't really have a concept of being angry. they're either manic happy or a bit sad. They love to find any way to make anybody smile or laugh, whether it be a somber happy, or a crying fit of laughter. They thrive off of happiness. They're a bit mischievous as well, and will try to play pranks and swipe things to chew on. They'll just appear in random places you'd never expect. like, in the pantry, the vent, or in your drawer. They chew things all the time to keep their dragon teeth sharp! They do tend to come off as obnoxious and kind of useless sometimes? But that's ok.

They love happiness, rocks, swimming, sandwiches, Vanilla coke, coffee, pianos, stars, ghost stuff(horror genre), and laughter. JoJo is pretty similar to Goggles now that I think about it x_xJoJo is best friends with Phill, and will always be on him in some way. Like his leg, back, holding onto his scarf by their teeth, etc. They're also very close with Goggles and Shyner, and Scott (even though Shyner tries to chase JoJo off with knives, JoJo will take it as a game of tag or something)JoJo doesn't like being yelled at or being told to go away. They get spooked easily by loud noises. They always get paranoid when they think someone is mad at them and will go to ungodly lengths to make them not mad or slightly annoyed with them, which sometimes makes people more annoyed with them than they were before.

JoJo is just an exaggerated version of me XD

Atwas: Atwas is fairly easy going. They make light of things often, and often hide serious sentiments behind jokes. They’re the type to roll with goofy and silly situations, and are very “yes and” type that enjoys escalating things in the name of light-hearted fun. They enjoy playing pranks, especially ones that take advantage of their hologrammatic nature (being able to enter and ‘possess’ electronics is something that they take advantage of often). Being technically in the cloud and a part of the internet at all times, they will often chime in with fun (often unrelated or humorous) metrics about situations and people as they occur—and often forgets that having a HUD isn’t something everyone has access to.

Being ‘technically’ invulnerable, atwas isn’t phased by the more dangerous things that go on in the IR tower, but usually prefers being a spectator or commentator as opposed to being an active participant in general shenaniganry. They don’t have any particular animosity towards anyone, and will occasionally help manage technical parts and functions of the tower.

They enjoy things like tech, cold weather, tea, fun statistics, darkness; and aesthetics like Film Noir and Retrowave.

They dislike things like excessively hot weather, being interrupted, getting too personal, having to put in a lot of “effort”, and being out of the loop.

Shyner: Shyner can easily be summed up to a tsundere in denial, and is the definition of an agent of chaos. If something goes wrong, she’s the one pouring a trail of kerosene to let the fire spread. She's loud, impulsive, and really doesn't give two shits. While quirky and charismatic, she’s also sarcastic and witty, reveling in the amusement of making fun of others. She’s often stubborn and impatient, thinking highly of her own beliefs and angered by those who dare to challenge her ideals. She also lacks a filter, and enjoys garnishing her words with colorful profanities. Filled with gripes of past trauma, she’s engaged in a constant internal war of turmoil and grief. She’s incredibly cautious and closed off around those she doesn’t trust, and can be very selfish.  Despite this, she’s loyal to the few people she cares about, going out of her way to put them first if a dire situation were to arise. She’s also very sneaky and mischievous, often finding amusement in spying on others. Her MBTI is INTP-T.

Her hobbies include stargazing, ghost hunting, spying, and Satanic worship. She enjoys melancholy vibes, horror movies, animals, thunderstorms, and has an unhealthy obsession with sweets. Yes, this child will stab you without hesitancy if you take her cookies. She dislikes seafood, big crowds, kiddie leashes, and is afraid of experiencing intense emotion she doesn’t understand.I love my satanic smol bean very much. If I may be so bold as to dive into the nitty-gritty psychology, Shyner possesses many flaws, a lot of which I personally struggled with growing up. She is a reflection of my past self, some gripes with my current self, and the perception of how I could have turned out if I hadn’t met my family at IR. Hiding behind the exterior of being a merciless bully, she still has an intense internal desire to be a good person, but gets frustrated and often derails herself in the process of fighting her desire to act on impulse. She keeps most relationships with people at arm's length, fearing that if someone were to think highly of her, it would only be a matter of time before they’re disappointed. If we were to go full-fledged story mode, she would most definitely have an intense character redemption arc, making the revelation that being shitty to those who care about her isn’t the way to run from her problems and hide away from her own sense of self-insecurity/hatred.

Phill: Phill likes mischief, bad jokes, sexual undertones, Jojo, sexual overtones, bullying Kristen, and the colour pink. That's it xD

Jojo: :D yay

Alex: Alex don't give a shit but is for whatever reason the bossman and is also as powerful as silver age Superman, just don't try actual murder of the crew and he won't yeet you into the sun

Moon: 2019 Moon is an idiot. If we didn't know any better, we would assume he was born from nothing but an old head of lettuce in Satan's refrigerator. Think like Scott from Monster Prom, but different. He knows his right from his left, but the compass is still just "NESW" to him. Impulsive, lovable, and kinda loud, this muscley dumbass will do practically anything you tell him to if he finds it enjoyable. When paired with a few people, he works well as a second to many dynamic duos. Brodingles and Moon/Split and Moon are two really good ones, dangerous shenanigans ensue. Can and will rap like a beast, any challenge to a freestyle will result in a career ending and a death being sentenced. Extroverted people pleaser, definitely shooting high to perform and when adapting to a character, goes a little too hard. This man played Gander in Charlottes Web and didn't stop making goose sounds for months. Did I mention he's also a disney princess? Singing, animals, mortal enemy falling to their death? Everything

Dawn: ToonWolf/Dawn's personality falls within the confines of recklessly adventurous who doesn't think things through entirely. They like to try and rope others into going on various hikes, treasure hunts, mythic/cryptid searches, etc. Unapologetic sailor mouth. They will fight for friends and family. Various animals, trinkets, treasures, and cool but useless garbage are brought back to the tower often (oops theres a liiiiiiitle bit of hoarding). Sometimes those animals consist of dogs, cats, lizards, bears, wolves, The Great Noble One, horses, lions, elk, you get the idea (Can I keep them?Pleeeeeeeaaaaaaaaseeeeee??????????).

Overall they are most comfortable and relaxed in/around water and likes a whole lotta things including sailing, swimming, adventure, stargazing, animals, mythology/legends, friends, family, and drawing.

They dislike waking up early, limitations, being talked down to, boredom, desert/hot/humid/dry weather, coffee, and the movie "Cube"

Tex: Tex is an avid cryptid detective + has a surprisingly good intuition when creating conspiracy theories about them to follow. Mm lots of memes and disguises. Smart, but usually just off on their own thinking about other stuff.Totally has a wall in their room dedicated to figuring all the cryptids out with like, red string and everything.

[darlingrutherford]

Lana - 2, 6, 16, 25, 32, 48; Sarya - 3, 5, 9, 15, 21, 26, 35; Frederick - 7, 12, 18, 24, 30, 42, 49. Sorry, that's a lot but your babies are so fascinating!)

@liveinthehills​ asgjkhkjshg thank you so much for all the asks!

From the Super Detailed Questions About Your OCs list

For Lana Surana-

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Hero of Ferelden and Champion of Redcliffe are really the only two titles Lana has received (the obvious ones, from saving Redcliffe during the Blight and ending the Blight itself). Lana never becomes the Warden Commander of Ferelden, wishing instead to focus on assisting the wardens rebuild after the Blight with Alistair's help, rather than lead them. Alistair likes to refer to her as the Goddess of Ferelden, and does so often that at least a handful of people in Ferelden actually think that it must be the correct title.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Lana was very studious inside the Ferelden Circle. She enjoys quietly reading on her own, and spent a lot of time reading up on various magical theories as well as Andrastian history. She wasn't very fond of hands-on studies, not being too keen on casting spells even though she was very good at it. Irving would have had her take her Harrowing at a much younger age because of how quickly she grasped onto knowledge and magical skills, but her hesitancy to use them was what held her as an apprentice until she was 18.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

Once she leaves the Circle, Lana collects a tiny rock from each place they visit. The first one she collects is from the shore of the Circle. She does this as a reminder of where she came from, where she's been, and as a reminder of everything that's happened. She keeps them in a small pouch at her side. 

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Lana adores Alistair's sense of humor. She's been through a lot herself, so she can appreciate the self deprecation of his humor. Lana may not have the worldly experience to get some jokes, but she can feel the levity emotion of the situation and enjoys hearing people's laughter more than anything. She doesn't crack many jokes herself, although when she does they're usually rather sarcastic. 

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

In the Circle, Lana tended to gravitate towards mage robes that had purples or blues in them, same for her nightgowns. After leaving the Circle, Lana wears the blue grey warden mage armor. Because of her height, most armor tends to be much too long on her and she ends up having to modify it, so she doesn't stray much from that uniform. She has a long tunic she never took in that she wears to sleep, although once she and Alistair start sharing a tent all the time, she either steals one of his clean tunics or otherwise they go without. Lana's hair is red (think very bright copper), and straight. It's to the middle of her back, and she always wears it in a tight French braid that begins near her left temple and ends at the right at her neck. It's a habit she still clings to of when her mother would do her hair growing up.

48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend?

Lana's a bit nervous around large groups of people. She has a bit of trauma related to being attacked for being a mage, so she's always worried of how people will react to her if she doesn't know them. With her friends, however, tight knit celebrations are something she can enjoy. She's had to be dragged into a few she definitely didn't want to attend (a status such as Hero of Ferelden will do that), but her fear of disappointing someone overrides her fear of being judged.

For Sarya Lavellan-

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Sarya enjoyed her childhood very much. Growing up without her parents, Keeper Deshanna raised Sarya to be kind and groomed her for a role of leadership at an early age. Sarya took to it with stride, really enjoying everything she learned and the opportunity to be an asset to her clan at such a young age. Her fondest memories are of the harvests she would participate in, as well as all the times she would sneak out at night to explore the Free Marches (sometimes alone, sometimes with her close friend Shala). A more bad memory would be when her clan visited Wycome for trading. Sarya witness a young child burning himself on a forge, and so she quickly helped cool his hand by dunking a cloth in a bucket of water and freezing the cloth with a bit of ice magic. The kid was excited at the show of magic and grateful, but the adults around became concerned and alerted the Chantry about her. Even though the Chantry has an understanding with the Dalish’s ways of having a few mages in one clan, they sent a couple of templars to investigate anyway. They confronted her in the forest outside of Wycome, but ultimately left without incident. Sarya is convinced that, if she hadn't been with a group of their hunters at the time, she would have been carted off to a Circle. This experience grew a small fear of humans for her that nagged at her mind for a small while when she was brought to Haven.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Sarya was an only child, so no siblings for her. She is very close with a lot of people in her clan, though, and thinks of them as siblings. Renan is the most prominent one, since he's always been one to stay close to her and want to protect her. Her relationship with him became strained once his feelings for her grew into more than friendship, feelings which she never returned. I'll leave it at that, since it effects her in ways that would spoil later chapters of To Weather the Storm ;)

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

I like to joke that Sarya is my “Disney Princess” OC. She gets on incredibly well with animals, and they seem to be drawn to her calm demeanor. The halla that traveled with her clan always knew they could find a treat in her pocket, and it's not uncommon for her to be able to calmly talk herself out of a bad situation with a bear, something that catches Cassandra entirely off guard in the Hinterlands.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

Sarya enjoys cooking. She's good at taking what she has on hand and making something edible out of it. Because of this, she's usually the one who ends up preparing food at the campsite with her companions, and she does it gladly. After the time they let Varric make the stew, she now offers her services first thing.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Sarya has the patience of a saint, but she absolutely loses her temper when she's pushed too far. She never screams or throws things, but she's not above yelling and pointing her finger. Cullen knows better than anyone, having been at the end of her temper a few times just because of how stubborn he can be, always in cases of him not taking care of himself or not allowing her to help him (most commonly with his lyrium withdrawals).

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Sarya hums when she's happy, and smiles a lot. She wears her emotions on her sleeve when she's in a good mood. If they get a few drinks in her (or one or two particularly strong ones), she's a very happy drunk and will spend a lot of time singing and dancing with a bright smile on her face.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

Sarya loves sweets. This would probably be considered an unguilty pleasure, since she does nothing to hide the fact, so much so that it's not uncommon for nobles to send sweets along with their letters in hopes of gaining the Inquisitor’s favor (her favorite are the hard cookies with orange zest dipped in chocolate that Gaspard sends with his correspondence). As for a guilty pleasure, Sarya has secretly read one of two of Varric's books in her spare time when no one is looking. She never had access to romance books like them, and finds herself quite engrossed in the stories.

For Frederick Trevelyan-

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

Frederick's parents had him spend a lot of his time studying, so he didn't have a lot of close friends growing up. He did have a friend, Caleb, whom he considered his closest friend growing up, though they grew apart once Caleb settled down. 

12. What is their favourite food?

Frederick would never admit it to his parents, but he's a sucker for Orlesian cuisine. He loves the sweetness of their foods, preferring it to the more lightly seasoned vegetables and meat one gets in Ferelden. Frederick isn't vegetarian by any sense, but he does tend to gravitate towards vegetables and fruit over meat. He's especially fond of carrots that have been glazed with honey.

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Frederick loves poetry. He and Cassandra have been known to sneak off together to read aloud with one another, just two friends enjoying a romantic prose. He has a wealth of knowledge when it comes to Ferelden history, but he had to study so much of it as a kid that his reading of it is more out of habit than anything.

24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress?

Frederick sleeps like the dead. Once he's out, he either needs to wake up on his own or else be shaken awake. He doesn't move much in his sleep, although Dorian will often shove him over onto his side to stop the snoring that ensues when he's on his back. He definitely prefers a softer mattress, and eagerly returns to his bed after a week with his bedroll on the hard ground.

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out?

Frederick does yoga every morning. It's a ritual to him, something his mother encouraged from a young age to calm his high energy. If he's unable to do it he's off for the day: he'll be a bit less level headed than usual, antsy, and turning a few heads as he runs back and forth across Skyhold trying to busy himself. Frederick still has quite a bit of energy even after his morning routine, but it grounds him and allows him to take the day a bit more slow.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

Frederick only wants to do his family and the Maker proud. He feels a bit of guilt, knowing that he can never make them happy in the way they had imagined before he came out, and works his hardest to make them proud in other ways. After being with Dorian, this extends to him as well. He realizes that family isn't only blood, and he finds himself wanting to do everything he can to make Dorian proud of him. Frederick would sacrifice anything for the safety of others. It makes him reckless, but it's something he feels very passionate about. As far as secret ambitions, Frederick does want a family, although he isn't sure how that will play out with the path that was given to him.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Frederick was never sentimental before. After Trespasser, the message crystal Dorian gifts him becomes his most prized possession. With Solas’ threat and everything Dorian has to take care of in Tevinter, they have to be apart for some time, but Frederick always keeps the message crystal close to his heart and converses with Dorian multiple times a day.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON XLNC’S LEAD RAP, LEAD VOCAL, LEAD GUITAR YOO JINHWAN…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 22 DEBUT AGE: 18 indie / 20 with KJH TRAINEE SINCE AGE: N/A COMPANY: KJH ETC: KJH is interested in pushing this member on variety

IDOL IMAGE

Jinhwan has a bit of a reputation as a flower-boy face with a playboy personality. Despite never having experienced a dating scandal, Jinhwan usually grabs attention for charming the cast on whichever variety show he appears on. Within XL-ENTs, he’s known as being one of the most relaxed with fans, often allowing XL-ENTs to blur the line of what is appropriate interactions between idols and their fans. He’s well-liked by male fans as well, as he isn’t the type to get embarrassed by their affections and encourages the same as he does female fans. Jinhwan is also a notorious lurker on social media, but he isn’t secret about it, and is known to like or reply to fans’ comments and tweets with hearts, laughter, or other emojis. He enjoys and thrives off of the attention– he’s even admitted that his favourite thing to hear from fans is, “I like you even more today than yesterday.”

Despite his friendliness with the fans, though, Jinhwan isn’t one to reveal deeper aspects of his personality to the public. The sensitive and prickly sides of his personality are glossed over with sweet-talk and brazen faux-confidence. As such, fans often complain that Jinhwan can be a bit of a mystery in some respects, commonly declining to clearly answer questions about more personal aspects of his life, such as his family, life before debut, or any sort of relationships– romantic, friendly, or otherwise. However, he only jokes about this when fans try to call him out– “If I told you everything, then there would be nothing left to be curious about~”

This leads to fans absolutely adoring any softer side they see of Jinhwan. He’s good at hiding any emotion other than happiness, so when something slips out, it’s even more satisfying for fans. His only openly emotional moments are when he’s performing and in his element, meaning his fancams are popular among his fans for proof of Jinhwan’s more emotional side. Occasionally, his secretly soft side can be seen when he’s talking about XL-ENTs. “I just want us to make good music, and the fact that you’re all here to support that… It’s the most important thing in the world to me.”

IDOL HISTORY

1996.

Jinhwan is born on June 17, 1996 in Incheon, the first and only child of his family. They’re modest, maybe bit on the well off side— his mother, who works as an administrative assistant, doesn’t make much, but his father works as an airline pilot, so they’re comfortable. He’s the first in his generation, meaning that the focus is always on him as a child, always under pressure to do well— something that he resents, later on, never having an interest in school. The only thing Jinhwan has ever loved, ever put any energy into, was music.

2001.

When Jinhwan is four, his parents sign him up for piano lessons. It’s something they think is important, a valuable skill for children to learn, an appreciation for the arts combined with the dedication of a craft. Jinhwan adores it, practices all the time, with a dedication that his parents embrace, at first. They take pride in their son’s hard work, take pride in his skill, show him off to the rest of the family. He doesn’t just love it, he’s good at it, too, learning to read sheet music as he learns to read hangeul, training his ear so his pitch is perfect. It’s a treat to their parents, to see their son excel so clearly, but they don’t yet realize the storm that was brewing.

2006.

Jinhwan is ten when his parents sit him down at the kitchen table, spoon dug into his rice, and tell him they’re moving to Japan.

He takes it well, all things considered. Jinhwan’s friendly enough, but he’s an introvert at heart— there isn’t many people at his school that he’ll miss. And it’s not like he isn’t used to travelling and plane rides, since his family vacationed often, sometimes for entire summers. Moving is a bit harder, since he’ll have to learn another language, but Jinhwan doesn’t mind. So he just shrugs at his parents, eats a spoonful of rice, and says okay.

He’s only there for a year, which is fine by him, the length of his dad’s contract. It’s enough time for his Japanese to develop, picking up the language quickly between school and his young age. It isn’t enough time for him to make friends, though— who wanted to be friends with the foreign kid who was just going to leave anyways? So instead of making friends, or joining clubs, Jinhwan listens to music. He develops a taste for Japanese rock music, since it’s what’s available to him, the Korean wave not reaching Japan yet. But it’s enough to keep him company until he’s back home, reunited in Incheon with his piano again.

2009.

As soon as Jinhwan puts his hands on his first guitar, he decides that it’s the only thing he ever wants to do. It’s his thirteenth birthday, and his parents get it for him as a surprise, wanting him to branch out from the piano. He was already great at piano, already excelled, and they wanted to see if he could carry the skill.

Jinhwan proves them right three times over. While he loved piano, guitar is all consuming— it becomes an obsession, and soon he’s never caught without a guitar in his hands. He plays until his fingers are calloused and blistering, up until the early morning to practice his favourite songs over and over. With the guitar, he can play the songs he likes to listen to, instead of classical songs his parents want him to play— it becomes his escape, his freedom. School falls away, friends falls away, everything cast to the wayside so Jinhwan could play his guitar, over and over, every second.

His parents realize their mistake soon, when Jinhwan’s grades start slipping. Jinhwan’s always been bright, a clever boy, but his interest in school was out of obligation more than anything. Now that he has something he loves, nothing else matters. They try to dissuade Jinhwan— set rules for when he can play his guitar, crack down on his homework— but it doesn’t work. Because even when they put a pen in his hand and his notebook in front of him, all that come out is chords and melodies, his brain filled with song.

2012.

Jinhwan doesn’t get into a good high school. It’s not like he’s ever tried very hard, and the fact doesn’t upset him in the slightest. His parents, though, are a different story. They scold him for it incessantly, bring it up often, you’re so bright, Jinhwan, if you just applied yourself you could go wherever you wanted. The damage has been done, though, so instead, they focus on Jinhwan getting the best grades possible, sign him up for cram school, make sure he goes. And he does, because he’s not a bad kid, doesn’t want to waste his money— it’s his time spent outside school and his cram academy that becomes a problem.

Jinhwan wants to be a musician. It’s not a new thing to him— he’s known this for a long time. But in high school, now that he’s older and has more freedom, it becomes an obsession. The rock and roll lifestyle becomes his dream— the parties and the touring are far off still, but one thing Jinhwan has access to is drinking. And with a group of friends of burnouts like him, none of them giving a shit about school, it’s something that’s easy to do. It feels good, to him, his stress melting away with the alcohol, when nothing matters other than having a good time. Jinhwan is careful about pictures, knows that if he wants to have a career later on this might not fly, but he’s not careful about his limits, often drinking more than he should when he’s stressed. He knows it’s not the best habit, especially when he’s only sixteen, but he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t think of stopping, until his mom finds out.

She keeps it from his father, a small mercy he appreciates, but she cries when she talks to him about it, and fuck if that doesn’t hurt. He kicks it for now, keeps his head down—not to focus on school, never to focus on school, but at least to stay out of trouble. Jinhwan just waits it out, counting down the days until his graduation happens.

2015.

Jinhwan’s graduation happens, and he starts sending auditions for in February, fresh out of high school, just a few months shy of his 19th birthday. He knows he’s screwed his chance at doing much else— it wasn’t like he had been going to an academic high school anyways, and his university entrance exam scores were shit. He didn’t care, though, since there wasn’t anything he wanted to do other than music. Jinhwan’s got a solid bit of confidence under him anyways— his guitar skills were solid, and he could definitely sing. He filmed something in his room, not thinking too much of it, nothing but him, a guitar and a webcam. When he sends it off, he doesn’t stress much about it, but within a few days, he had three offers for contracts. Despite the arguably better chance at success with the bigger companies, Jinhwan chose to join the smallest company in the hopes of more freedom, much to the disappointment of his parents.

He moves away from Incheon immediately, dropping everything to head to Seoul. It wasn’t a hard decision for Jinhwan to make— he had friends in Incheon, sure, but Jinhwan had always been the type to hold people at arm’s length, so he knew he wouldn’t miss them too terribly. Even if he did have people he was particularly close to, Jinhwan’s number one priority was always to become a musician. He told his parents that he was leaving, and despite their attempts to talk him out of it, Jinhwan remained set on his goals. He left his family’s house, and moved into a boarding house in Seoul to focus on his music full time. To say that his parents were disappointed in his choices were an understatement— they disapproved outright, and to Jinhwan, no matter what he did, he could never seem to win them over.

It doesn’t matter, though, once 2016 comes around and Jinhwan is able to start making music. They match him up with a couple other guys in the label, form a band out of four of them, tell them they’ll be called XLNC. They work together to start putting out tracks, playing to their strengths, moody, emotional, artistic. It works, for them, and Jinhwan is happy. There’s still struggle, still hardship— it wasn’t like their company was huge, and resources were scarce— but Jinhwan is making music, performing onstage, and that is the only thing that matters.

2018.

It’s the only thing that matters until it isn’t anymore. The resources get scarcer and scarcer, and in return, the company pushes them harder and harder, getting them to perform at every opportunity they could in order to make money. Jinhwan is exhausted all the time, his body breaking down, his hands constantly in pain from playing with no break and his brain hazy from lack of sleep. And it’s not just their bodies that suffer—they don’t have the money or time to take care of their instruments as well, and Jinhwan loathes as he sees things falling aparts. He just doesn’t expect it to be onstage.

They’re at a rock festival, playing the same songs they’ve been performing for months, when it happens. Jinhwan is playing his guitar, looking down at his hands, going through the motions, when one of his strings snaps. It hits him directly in the face, and for a moment, he’s stunned, before he feels the stinging burn of where it hit him, a welt invariably forming. It hurts, but the show must go on— so he keeps going, taking a moment to turn away from the crowd and get himself together before going back up to the mic. It’s hard to play when he’s down a string, but he manages, though that doesn’t stop him from being pissed as all hell when he leaves the stage, ducking away from the staff who try to help him, to make sure his pretty boy face isn’t damaged for good. Because it didn’t matter, if things were going to be like this all the time, if he couldn’t even play his music properly because the company was screwing him over.

But their saving grace comes soon after—an offer the boys couldn’t refuse, a big company swooping in to save them from obscurity. We saw the video of you boys at the festival, they say, we’re impressed by your music, you boys are professional. We want to offer a contract to all of you, to stay as XLNC but with us instead.

The promise of a big company is alluring, the fame and the resources to tempting to pass up. Jinhwan doesn’t think twice— he’s the first one to sign the contract.

2019.

He’s the first one to sign the contract, but everything at KJH is smoke and mirrors. They were promised fame, promised resources, and relative to what they had before, it’s what they got— but everything comes at a price. Jinhwan is used to the freedom of a smaller company, used to the creative input. Now, though, Jinhwan is always held back, kept from chiming in because the company had it handled for him. You’re an idol now, they tell him, you have other things to worry about.

They push him on variety shows instead, fill up his time with filming for those. Jinhwan knows how to talk, has a silver-tongued charm, feigns charisma easily. He’s pretty enough, tall enough, knows how to flirt and make friends. He knows what he can do, and he does it well, but it’s not what he wants. That doesn’t matter to the company, though— all they see him as is someone they can use.

His image is a cover up, though, nothing but a facade. In reality, Jinhwan’s sensitive to the what others think now that he’s in the public eye, meaning he’s prickly at the best of times and confrontational at the worst. And now that the company is pushing them on social media, making them post frequently, Jinhwan has access to all the opinions— the good, the bad, and the ugly. He’s constantly stressing about what people are saying about them, what the public thinks, how their music is charting. If anything is aimed at Jinhwan in particular, that hits him even harder.

He knows this, though, knows he’s doing this to himself, so he tries not to let himself get to the point of arguing or fighting with others, instead choosing to remove himself from the situation entirely and try to drown the feelings out. His drinking habit comes back, and he knows the members notice it, find it strange how he stays out so late, stumbling into the dorms until the early hours of the morning. Jinhwan tries to hide it from management, but he’s toeing a thin line— one day, he’ll get caught, and he bets it’s soon, but he doesn’t stop. Why deal with bad emotions when you can get drunk, flirt with someone cute, and drown those feelings out with good ones, right?

…Right?

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Toy Story 4

I have given almost no thought to the fourth entry in the Toy Story franchise. I just felt like we were really DONE after Toy Story 3, you know? It was cathartic, it was meaningful, it made me bawl like a baby. I’d said goodbye and I was doing great. And then suddenly, Woody (Tom Hanks) and Buzz (Tim Allen) and the gang are back for round 4 and I’m just supposed to what, welcome them back with open arms? And now there’s a SPORK involved? I don’t know, fam. I was skeptical. But Pixar usually knows what they’re doing, so I sat down opening weekend ready to be transported back to the magic of childhood all over again. Could this entry in the franchise possibly live up to the greatness of all 3 of its predecessors? Well...

Gosh, it’s nice sometimes to be proven wrong. This movie is so delightful my face hurt from smiling afterwards. I think I laughed more at this than any other comedy this year. And its heart is still firmly in the right place, helping kids and grown-ups alike think about what it means to love and be loved, and what we’re willing to give up for a chance at happiness. Essentially, Woody’s new kid, Bonnie (Madeline McGraw) isn’t that interested in playing with him anymore. Instead, she’s made herself a new favorite toy - Forky (Tony Hale), a literal collection of trash barely being held together by silly putty and glue. Even though Woody isn’t Bonnie’s favorite toy, he knows how important it is for her to have Forky, and he will stop at nothing to keep Forky safe when Bonnie’s parents decide to take her (and all her toys) on a road trip. As you can imagine, some toys get lost, some toys get found, and there’s a lot of action-packed close calls along the way. 

Some thoughts:

There is no Pixar short before this one, just FYI.

One thing I love about the Toy Story films is the thematic richness that is always so clear and well-executed. From the very first scene, it’s set up that this is going to be Woody’s movie, and it’s going to be about him choosing between two different types of love - the love of a companion or the love of duty in his role as a Kid’s Toy. All of the Toy Story movies are essentially Woody movies, but this one feels even more so than the rest, and it’s a lovely meditation on aging, change, and parenthood from the perspective of a character that many of us have grown up with for the last 24 years.

Some of the animation is so beautiful I want to cry. Woody lying in the rain. The LIGHT in the antique shop. Have you ever seen light look so ethereal and gorgeous in animation? 

The four abandoned toys in Bonnie’s closet are voiced by the four greatest living comedians of our grandparents’ generation - Melephant Brooks (Mel Brooks), Chairol Burnett (Carol Burnett), Carl Reinerocerous (Carl Reiner), and Bitey White (Betty White). It’s a quick scene but man, what a joy for a comedy nerd like me.

Blink-and-you’ll-miss-them lesbians dropping off their son at Bonnie’s kindergarten class!

Throughout all the marketing, I have been so confused about Forky and why on earth he’s involved in this movie. However, within 2 minutes, I was completely sold. Tony Hale’s performance is perhaps the funniest performance I’ve seen in any media this year. Every single line delivery is gold, and he brings a real sweet earnestness to Forky’s identity crises and his confusion at a big world he doesn’t understand. And those goddamn googly eyes are the funniest fucking thing - it’s so dumb, but when a gag works, it works.

So I saw Child’s Play this weekend as well, and let me tell you - Benson, the ventriloquist dummy in the antique shop, is 10 million times scarier than Chucky will ever be. That motherfucker is going to haunt my dreams.

Now let’s talk about some other members of the ensemble. Is it just me, or does it seem like Buzz is being extra stupid here? I just don’t remember him being this stupid. A little obtuse, sure, but...this feels 10th season of a CBS sitcom bad. The one plot line I really hated was his dumb “inner voice” running gag. It felt like a lame gimmick in comparison to the really interesting nuanced interactions going on in every other plot thread of the film. 

I love the idea of Bo Peep (Annie Potts) as a Mad Max road warrior feminist rebel.

Another thing I appreciate about the Toy Story movies - all of their villains are portrayed sympathetically, and usually due to a lack of love in their lives. Don’t get me wrong, I love a great campy evil just for the sake of being evil villain as much as the next girl, but there’s something to be said for a series of movies that show antagonists as people who are hurting, who have a need that was never filled, and are willing to learn and grow when they are confronted about it. I think that’s a valuable thing for kids and adults alike to see.

I particularly liked the parallel and inversion of Gabby (Christina Hendricks) and Woody here, how they’re both so blindly devoted to the idea of loving a kid that they can’t see anything outside of that, including how their actions might be hurting other people. It’s a tight script overall, and particularly in their stories it digs deep into a lot of interesting emotional material. 

Fun easter egg: in the old toy disco that Bo Peep takes Woody to inside the antique shop, the first toy they interact with is the original tin toy from one of the first Pixar shorts! 

I know he’s having a very it moment right now, which he deserves every single second of because he’s, by all accounts, a truly wonderful human being, but I would die for Keanu Reeves’ Duke Caboom, and I don’t care who knows it.

For people who are interested to know - there is a cat who experiences some toy-chasing antics, but no harm comes to her. 

Did I Cry? Yeah, yeah I did. Nowhere near the waterworks of Toy Story 3, but when Gabby finds her kid, and at that last line, yeah, there was more than a light misting.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, but this really is as good as all the other Toy Story movies. You’d be hard-pressed to name a franchise this consistent in quality, and I highly, highly encourage kids and grown-ups alike to travel to infinity and beyond with this crew one more time.

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