#like was what alex did objectively fucked up? yes!!!

[tally-vi]

i was only gonna write in the tags but that turned into a rant so

warning! don’t open the tags unless you want a long unorganized rant!

ABOUT THE ALEX KISTER SITUATION

Just found out about the situation, and this might give me hate, but I think its important to say:

LETS WAIT TO HEAR ALEX KISTER

As disgusting as the allegations are, we shouldnt turn this into another Kwite situation. People are already jumping the gun and claiming that him being a creep is the absolute truth, but we all need to wait.

I hate saying this, but this could be fake. I don't like thinking this but after so many cases of shit like this I can't help but have to doubt and wait.

If the allegations are true than I will post here and apologize for doubting the victims. As someone who suffered with stuff like that before, I hope to God that no one ever goes through something like those people did.

Anyway, I might go to bed now, I hope he responds soon so I can have the full picture

[ninzied]

sunshine

a childhood enemies to lovers au. 500 word drabble for @hgejfmw-hgejhsf.

“I don’t know, Bug.”

He’s exhausted as hell from the flight home after a grueling finals week. He doesn’t want to make small talk with people he grew up with only to spend the last four years seeing how much they grew apart. It’s pretty much the worst thing he can think of right—

June says, too-casually, “Henry will be there.”

Scratch that. It just got even worse.

Obviously Alex has to go, now.

He hasn’t seen Henry since halfway through middle school, when the Fox family moved out of state. Mister fancy-pants “Oh, I’m on the cul-de-sac” Henry, who always had the cooler bikes, and out-sold Alex at every Girl Scout thing they went to with their sisters. Henry, who was good at everything and got along with everyone. Everyone, that is, except for Alex.

Henry, who’d stayed friends with Pez down the street, is exactly how Alex remembered but worse. He’s too fucking tall. His shoulders are so broad they’re borderline ridiculous. He—

“Alex.”

Fuck. His voice got even deeper. Fuck. Alex scowls.

“Charming as ever,” Henry remarks. At a pointed glance from Pez, he clears his throat, then adds, “Taller, though. Unless we’re speaking relatively, in which case—”

Is this guy for fucking real?

Alex opens his mouth.

“Henry’s the same, though, right, baby brother?” June butts in. “Remember that camp photo? The one where you said he looked like sunshine?”

“Can you not?” Alex objects. “Like he thinks the sun shines out of his ass, is what I said.”

“No,” says June, “I don’t think that was it.” She turns to Henry. “Pretty sure he kept it, by the way.”

“June,” hisses Alex. “How do you even know about that?”

Henry’s blushing. The stupid sun is in his hair again and he looks so unfairly fucking pretty that Alex wants to— wait. What?

Oh. Alex kind of forgets to breathe for a moment. Oh.

“Right, we’ll leave you to it,” says Pez. He takes June by the arm.

Henry shifts. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was always too panicked by your evident dislike of me to not act like a total knob when you were around. Suppose that hasn’t changed either.”

Alex swallows. “I never disliked you. I just. Always figured you thought you were too good to hang out with me.”

“My gran did think that,” Henry admits, looking sad. “She was very strict.”

Alex remembers the general shape of her, a grim shadow in the curtain whenever he rode his bike too-close to their cul-de-sac. “Was?”

“She doesn’t get a say anymore.” Henry looks at him. “Does that, erm. Mean you wanted to? Hang out?”

“Did you?” Alex counters.

If Henry had pigtails, Alex could’ve pulled those and not been more fucking obvious.

“Yes,” says Henry, simply. “Perhaps we could start now? Make up for lost time?”

“For the record,” says Alex, “I really, really didn’t dislike you.”

Henry’s flush deepens. He’s smiling. Fuck. “For the record,” he says, “I kept that photo, too.”

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Big Mouth

AN: Sparked from @wileys-russo’s comment on a previous fic ~ “Millie and her big mouth would most definitely out someone”

It was the 70th minute in the quarter final of the World Cup as the team were shuffling around preparing for a corner. England had been marked all evening and Columbia weren’t letting up anytime soon, you were in serious need of a new strategy and fast if you wanted to progress any further in the tournament. You were floating around in the box trying to break away from your marker whilst listening out for instructions from your captain, suddenly feeling hands on both your shoulders and being viscously shoved to the ground. You were in shock as the attack was completely unprovoked and the ball wasn’t even in play yet. The corner was delayed for a moment as you scrambled to your feet and as a warning was handed out to you, your teammates swarmed the ref to object. How could you push yourself to the floor? Is she completely oblivious to the abuse you had been receiving the entire match? As an arm pulled tightly on your shirt in another direction you were prepared to receive a yellow if it meant not allowing yourself to be bullied any longer. “Get the fuck off me!” you screamed, expecting to turn and face a Colombian player but surprised to see it was actually Millie pulling you towards her for protection. Your demeanour changed immediately as you let her move your body like a rag doll; wherever she wants you, you’re there. Squeezing you infront of her, the taller woman pressed her body tightly against your back and her arm wrapped around your stomach to keep you in place so you were finally unmarked for once in this game. Millie quickly grabbed Rachel too and directed her in front of you, sandwiching your body between them. “Hold Rachel” Millie directed bluntly, “tighter”. Squishing you so close together you could barely breath as Rachel reached around your back to hold you all in place too. Making three unmarkable players, others copied in doing the same to give you the best chance to advance. Millie muttered directions into your ear as close to your face as possible so the opposing team couldn’t hear your tactics, the last thing you remember before the ball was kicked in by Alex was Lucy joking about where she fitted into this threesome and laughing to herself.

‘I knew what I had to do but did I do it? Did I fuck!’ Being grabbed and pulled by the older women took all your attention away from what you were actually supposed to be doing and that was scoring, that’s why they were protecting you in the first place you idiot! As the ball was kicked, the girls instantly spread out taking the Colombians with them, leaving you stood by yourself in acres of space with a gawped expression on your face. Seeing the ball flying towards you, Millie’s voice hollered your name just in time for you to zone back in to your surroundings and plant the ball neatly into the net.

Back in the locker room discussions were flowing about your goal, winning the game and being awarded player of the match. Lucy was in the corner joking with the older girls about your spaced out look just before the ball hit your head, you were huddled at the other end of the room with your friends from youth level. “You did look so out of it before you scored” they laughed in agreement with Lucy. “I was taken off guard! I didn’t expect to be sandwiched between Mills and Rach” chuckling to yourself but the comment was met with quizzical eyes and confused expressions. “Were you-“ Hempo started before you finished the question for her. “Turned on? Yes” shrugging it off as no big deal. “Ohhh from the train? I saw you guys do that and could already imagine the memes! That wasn’t what I was gonna say though..” Hempo still had the confused look that seemed to never leave her face. “Wait, what did you think?” you asked, wondering if you’d just over shared unnecessarily. “That you got shoved pretty hard, I thought they took the wind out of you!” your best friend’s voice was muffled inside the clean shirt as she tried to push her head through the arm hole. Helping her get dressed like a mum would a toddler you told yourself that next time you must remember to let people finish their sentences so you don’t make a fool of yourself. Yet somehow you ignored your own advice and still kept talking. “Yeah I think I’m gay now!” you blurted out jokingly. “You’re gay?!” Millie bellowed behind you, luckily she didn’t seem to have heard the rest of the conversation but this still wasn’t ideal. “Who’s gay?” “(Y/n).” “(Y/n)’s gay?” “About time she told us!” Glancing around the room at all the voices chiming like dominoes at overhearing the gossip you were shocked to see how many people thought you already were. “Was it the train?” Lucy laughed with a smirk in the corner of the changing room she hadn’t moved from, “the TikTok edits are gonna loooove that!” The brunette was always showing off edits that had been made of her on the app, always seemed proud of them too. “Nooo! I’m not gay!” you exclaimed to make sure the whole team heard you. “You’ve gone all red tho!” Millie pointed out whilst poking your cheeks making you wish the ground would open up and swallow you. Backing away from the blonde who was making you flustered you ran for the showers, eager to wash away the thoughts and the sound of being outted. You’re not gay, you were just turned on by some very attractive women that you spend all your time with holding you in a certain way, that doesn’t make you gay and certainly not for your teammates!

The next day at training you felt the same forcefulness as the day before, two hands landed heavily on your shoulders shuddering you out of the daydream you were in. A blonde messy bun flopped in your face as her arms wrapped loosely around your collar bones. “Hey, sorry for shouting about you being gay, I shouldn’t have done that I was just on a high from winning” she said pulling you into her once more. Your body instantly became stiff with being so close to the defender again and as words jumbled in your mind unable to form a sentence, you just nodded in response. “I’m here if you wanna talk okay, love you” kissing your cheek before running off to join her group. Hempo was watching the interaction from afar and made her approach when she saw Millie had left. “You’ve got that same look on your face as yesterday” she laughed, “yknow just cause you fancy a woman doesn’t mean you’re gay” bending down to tie her shoelaces. “Thank you! That’s what I was trying to say yesterday, at least someone believes me” you breathed a sigh of relief. “I meant, gay and straight aren’t the only options (y/n). You’ve got bi, pans, demi and-” she trailed off listing sexualities you had never heard of before as the realisation hit that not even your best friend believed what you were saying. “Y/n, work with Bright over your link ups, they could use some work” Sarina shouted over the pitch interrupting your friend who was still spelling out the queer alphabet. Hempo looked at you sympathetically but also a little amused, “good luck!” she nudged as she ran back to her spot. You reluctantly walked over to your skipper who was as loud as ever, shouting encouragement and silly remarks about taking your time but once you got there you couldn’t even hold eye contact with her. Making an excuse that you didn’t feel well before running back inside, Millie’s eyes followed you, squinting in confusion. She knew something was wrong but didn’t know how to approach you in a way that would make you open up.

Once you’d arrived into the safety of your hotel room you threw yourself on the bed to scour the internet to look up all the unfamiliar words Lauren was telling you about earlier. Taking silly quizzes to find out what sexuality you are always came up as 100% NOT straight which made you even more confused. You’d never thought about it before but you’ve never really felt attraction to anybody, relationships never lasted long because you just didn’t feel anything. After a few hours of flicking through an LGBTQ+ encyclopaedia your eyes landed on a definition you were unable to divert your attention from:

Graces, gray A’s, or gray asexuals: Individuals whose sexual attraction exists within the gray area between sexual and asexual. They experience sexual attraction infrequently or not very strongly. Other terms that are used to describe this identity are semisexual, asexual-ish, and sexual-ish.

‘That would explain my very rare attraction to anybody I guess’, you thought to yourself. My demeanour and fashion sense could come across gay sometimes but that word doesn’t seem to define me, neither do any of the others. I must be a Gray A.. or Grace? That seems to fit well with me the most.

Sitting back to admire the screen while you soaked everything in there was a knock at your door. “Hey, can I come in?” nodding without words as the blonde entered your room and sat down on your bed. “Can you just talk to me please? I know I’ve upset you and just wanna make it right” she pleaded. “You haven’t upset me Mill” reassuring her as you sat down next to your friend. “It’s just..” you started to explain but hesitant with how to word it. “The other night when you pulled me into you it made me feel something.. different. It turned me on okay and then everyone started shouting about how I’m gay and I just got confused. But I’ve done some research and I think I know why now.” Planting the laptop onto her knees so she could look at what you had highlighted. “I’ve never heard of this?” she muttered while reading the definition. “Me neither, but it explains why I’ve never felt attracted to anyone and then suddenly I was” you shrugged, relieved with having an explanation now. “I do have that effect on people” she mocked swiping her hair from her shoulder. “You’ve got such a big head!” rolling your eyes and slapping her arm. “Hey!” she pouted, trying to slap you back but you’d moved out of her reach. “Matches your big mouth!” your laugh exaggerated but comforted in the fact that everything was out in the open and the awkwardness had floated away. “Okay, so we cool?” “We’re cool” “I won’t go grabbing you without warning anymore” “hmm. I liked it” punching her bicep lightly. “Good… cause my love language is touch” her hand glided from your shoulder down to your fingers, linking your hand in hers. “Really? Cause I hadn’t noticed!” your heavily sarcastic tone earned you a glare before being swamped in a huge bear hug.

[nyoomfruits]

"Falling around you" for the wip title game pls!!

Ps: I love your writing style sm✨🩷

you have chosen ✨angst✨ basically au where lando and oscar dated and broke up, which would've been fine, if it wasn't for the fact that before they broke up they rsvp'd to alex and logan's destination wedding and now have to share a room for a whole weekend because everything is fully booked and they CANNOT miss this wedding because oscar is logan's best man and lando one of alex's groomsmen anyway here's all i have for that so far lmao

“Hi, welcome to Sunnyvale Inn, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks, cheery smile on her face.

Lando, feeling decidedly less cheery after a three hour car ride that he spend mostly overthinking every decision he’s ever made in his life, smiles back tiredly. “Hi, yes, reservation for Norris?”

“Of course mister Norris, give me a moment,” she opens something on the computer. “Are you here for the Sargeant-Albon wedding?” She’s tapping away as she speaks, barely glancing up.

“Yes, yeah I am,” he says, glancing around the lobby. He wonders if there’s anyone staying in the Inn right now that’s not here for the wedding. Alex and Logan had a seriously impressive guest list, last time he saw. He’s just glad actually being in the wedding party means he can stay in the Inn the wedding is held in rather than one of the surrounding hotels.

“Wonderful! I have your reservation right here, it’s room number 204, on the second floor. Will you be needing two keys or is one enough?” She asks, reaching over to the little hooks behind her.

“Uh,” Lando says, frowning. “One? Why would I need two?”

“Oh, in case you and your partner would like your separate keys,” she says, handing Lando a singular key.

“My,” Lando pauses, scrunches up his now. “Uh. Partner?”

“Yeah!” The receptionist says cheerily, completely undeterred, gesturing at the computer screen. “A, uh, Mr. Piastri? It says here you booked a room together.”

Fuck. He forgot. Among everything, he forgot about this.

“Fuck,” Lando says. “No, that’s. Shit. Can I- Is there any way I can change that? Is there another room? Another hotel?”

 “I’m sorry, Mr. Norris. Everything is fully booked. Mr. Sargeant and Mr. Albon did invite a rather large amount of people. The nearest hotel with an empty room has to be at least an hour away.” If the receptionist is surprised she does an incredible job at hiding it, though she does seem a little bit apologetic about the whole thing.

An hour away. Alex would kill him if one of his groomsmen was an hour away. Plus he’d have to drive, which means no booze at the party, which. There’s no way he’s going to get through this entire weekend without at least one shot of tequila. But that leaves-

Lando turns back to her, a little frantically. “I can’t. It’s not a possibility. I can’t room with Mr. PIastri, you don’t understand we-“

Someone next to him clears their throat, and Lando’s head shoots up only to reveal-

“Oscar,” he says.

“Hi,” Oscar says, and he looks. Lando wants to say good. Because objectively he does. His shoulders have gotten a little broader, like maybe he’s been going to the gym a little more consistently. His hair is longer, the little swoosh at the side almost turning into a curl. He’s wearing a nice shirt.

But there’s a tenseness to his shoulder, a twitch in the corner of his mouth, a distant look in his eyes. Lando hasn’t seen him look like that since, well.

Since they broke up.

“Uh,” Lando says, fiddling with one of his bracelets. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Oscar says, tone clipped. “What is this about a room?”

“Oh!” The receptionist says, tone cheery, clearly not reading the room at all, or reading the room perfectly and trying very hard to pretend everything is fine. “You must be Mr. Piastri.” Oscar nods, shoulders still stiff.

“We are uh. Sharing a room,” Lando says, biting at his lip. Oscar goes to open his mouth. “Hour away,” Lando says. “Logan would kill you. And Alex would kill me, so. There’s no other option.”

“Hm,” Oscar says.

“Would you like your own key, then?” The receptionist asks, holding one out to Oscar. “Room 204.”

“Thank you,” Oscar says, and then promptly turns around and heads to the stairs.

“Well, that went fucking great,” Lando says, crossing ‘avoiding Oscar at all cost’ off his mental list of ‘things to make this wedding at least semi bearable’, and then stalks off after him, with one last wave to the still broadly smiling receptionist.

--

There’s only one bed.

Of course there fucking is, because when they booked this room they were in love. Lando wants to fucking cry. When he steps into the room, Oscar is staring at it, like if he might stare hard enough he can split it into two somehow.

“I’ll take the floor,” Oscar eventually concludes, chucking his suitcase in the corner with a little more force than is probably necessary.

Lando frowns. “Don’t. That’s. Fuck, no you don’t have to do that. We’re adult fucking men, Oscar. We can share a bed for a weekend without it getting weird.” He hates this. He hates that they’ve come to this.

He’s got no one to blame but himself.

“Fine,” Oscar says. “Fine, sure, we’ll share.” And then he goes to walk out of the room again, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he goes, probably to text Logan about how he got stuck in a room with his ex boyfriend.

“Oscar, fuck, wait,” Lando says. “Are you going to be like this all weekend?” It sounds a bit desperate, pleading almost, and it’s so stupid that it’s come to this.

“Maybe,” Oscar says, without even turning around. “Maybe even forever,” he says bitingly, and the shoulders open the door.

“Hey, that’s not fair-“ Lando starts, but Oscar is already gone. Lando sighs, runs a hand through his hair, goes to put his own suitcase away. As he does so, he spots Oscar’s. There’s few stickers on it, and Lando’s eyes get drawn to one of the Eiffel tower, stuck in the top right corner. It’s from their first trip aboard together. Lando remembers buying the sticker, remembers Oscar rolling his eyes as Lando insisted it was all part of making memories, of remembering.

Ironic, how now all the wants to do is forget.

He dumps his suitcase in the opposite corner and goes in search of Alex. Or a bar. Whichever he encounters first.

[too-many-rooks]

Spoiler warning: Long rambly notes I took while watching season 3, disclaimer that a lot of this is just character moments/lines I found interesting and initial bones of an au idea for a burgeoning, extremely self indulgent slightly-darker-Alex in season 3 wip I’ve started.

Also it was the middle of the night and I was very tired and wired out of my gourd on some mix of cheap white wine and floods of hyperfixation-sourced dopamine. Also also I only started taking notes at ep 3?

Episode 3

Alex is SUCH a better spy this season than when he began even in the first few episodes prior to SCORPIA training he’s more careful and precise and the team feels better organised - he did so well on that boat I’m so proud of my baby

I’m actually enjoying Tom and Kyra fucking about more than I expected. Tom pulling Kyra together after the boat explosion suprised me by how emotive it was. But I do want them to.. go away. Alex should more isolated/desperate/have NO other choices than SCORPIA.

Everything in Malagosto seems so staged to just see how Alex will react to it all - here’s an unlocked door, here’s an Alex sized vent and a dead spot in the cameras, what are you gonna do about it? +Alex absolutely speaks French I think he’s just not giving that away yet

Oh yes yes lingering bad touch from Julia Rothman hitting the right notes even though that costume is a WILD kaftan moment. Evil carmen sandiago/noir femme fatale aesthetic where are you I miss you so much

Ohhhh Julia saying Ian walked away and abandoned him and that was what hit him worst oh my goooooooooood

(Outfit change from julie mean day change or is she just a multiple outfits a day kinda person. Believable, I guess)

Julia’s gaslighting I ssoooo crazy ‘we trust you. We want you.’ After having his closest people not trust him, and now maybe questioning if Ian even wanted him!

Julia fucking loved this, she’s totally thrilled by her own power. Queen 👸🏻.

God Jones and the department is going THROUGH IT THIS SEASON, just suddenly surrounded by corpses

Julia : offers irrefutable proof, upsets him, then presses him to continue believing what he did before and belittling his objections - very subtle but more firm tone of voice, less motherly/accepting, very clear that the noose around Alex’s neck is always there.

She’s so delighted at the prospect of making Alex into the perfect soldier

Julia: “I want you to meet your tutor”

Me: ‘here he here he comes here he comes.’ And then I threw of my blanket, pushed myself onto my knees, and started bouncing and palm clapping in sheer delight. I basically never happy stim like this but MY GOD the flood of dopamine is IMMENSE.

More manic laughter at the start of episode 4 realising I’m about to see John and young Yassen. Nicuragua! 18 years ago!

God nervous baby Yassen with a gun

HES!! SO!!! BABY!!!

Baby boy already got his colour scheme locked down

Baby Yassen has curls - is it just the humidity or maybe does he have naturally curly hair that he straightens so he looks less cute?

Johns actor has a real resemblance to Ian (and Jack Lowden) but less so to otto

Ohoho scar moment scar moment bc Yassen was nervous and fucked up two people one bullet

“Close your eyes” as I tell these people I’m going to shoot you and have faith

God cut to adult Yassen WATCHING ALEX SLEEP LOOKING SO INTENSE

“Leave the past behind us.” “Ian rider was a professional. It was not personal it was my job.” “Think of this as a school and your dead by the end of the day” (actual honesty for the first time)

Alex not committing to being able to work with Yassen is perfect

Yassen taking Alex TO HIS KNEES so easily besties not been slowed down too much by a bullet to the chest

Soaking wet!!!!!!!!

Alex shooting scene amazing, as was Yassen bursting into his room immediately after for a murder pep talk. Alex has no privacy privileges from Yassen

Yassen removing the humanity from his targets, names/faces/lives are irrelevant, they are just blank targets. “One day you’ll have to murder them.”

“That’s not gonna happen”

Yassen *be so ffr rn face*

Really interesting to see the other side of the department covering up an agent death and lying to the family - I like the department with more humanity/emotional resonance than pure ruthlessness

Shitty Malagosto communal dorm room and matching drab grey hoodies my beloved

Shame there’s no ‘your not afraid of a little prick are you?’ ‘I wouldn’t call you that’ line. (But switching out the ‘getting vaccinated will implant you with secret nano tech that will kill you’ plottline probs a good idea)

Ooooh Julia creepily poisoning him so excited making me think of her delighting in drugging him in a cocktail of ‘let me take care of you’ ways

Yassen pulling rank to break up the fight!!

Ooh Nile wants to take down Yassen so bad.

Toms film skills coming in clutch recording/ documenting things so Alex will be taken seriously, glad to see him be… less of a dead weight to the team

Begrudgingly-impressed-at-Alex Yassen, even with the “come on that’s a bad idea”, “yeah, but!” Teenagerisms

Yassen’s core (suppressed) emotions: fear, doubt, panic

Alex: love, hope, friendship (okay dear, 🙄 but remember you’re literally becoming an assassin why are you so niave all of a sudden?)

Alex insisting John saved him bc he had compassion and was his friend and that Yassen’s rejection of that makes him lonely oh oh my heart my heart

I LOVE how much fun Nile has being evil at his job of threatening children.

Episode 5

Oh my god HIT HIM ALEX where do you think you are? How do you think you’ll actually manage to get those trainees to trust you? Stop whining and hit the man with a wooden sword, christ

Smithers (in reference to Alex) “he’s out there being a teenager because of us” *cut to Alex, very much in danger, contemplating his capacity to kill*

Julia: “no one leaves,” [scorpia, me, interchangeable to her]

mission with Yassen!

Packing for the mission with Yassen!!!

Yassen can’t read his handwriting!!!

“You’ve put… lockpick?”

“I left my last one in Nile. “

Alex bitching about his meagre gadgets at point Blanc 💯

Matching tactical turtlenecks!!!

“I don’t want you to fail. I don’t want you to die.”

Alex and Yassen are a team but Yassen gives Alex command of them oh boysieeeee

Again glad they dropped the vaccine bit: vaccines aren’t dangerous, but vaping is!!

Of on a road trip with Yassen!!

A murder road trip!

Love Kyra seeing the shot and the body - I know why it didn’t happen but I do kinda wish for a more corrupted violent Alex coerced/bargained into firing it himself

That Tom confrontation was great - I do want to see it as like a ‘your getting in my way’ intentional cruelty to push him away and keep him safe when Alex is too deep in SCORPIA to be deluded about thinking he can go home

Alex rejects intimacy with Julia and she cracks down her authority ‘no one leaves’

Ep 6

Love Alex spooky in the cemetery, SCORPIA hot on his heels

Sharing a grotty safe house together god SO GOOD

“We trust each other. You should try it sometime.”

“If it’s not emotional why do you do it?”

“Because it’s my job. (Identity/life/personal connections/sacrificed everything for) I work for SCORPIA. I’m good at it. You could be too.” Olive branch of intimacy - wants alex to be more like him, so they can be equals, can share this life that he apparently finds satisfaction in, not thinking or making decisions beyond how best to achieve his goal/finish the task(/order)assigned to him/subject himself to feeling emotions/thinking about his life beyond his attempts to depersonalise himself as just a weapon - just a professional with no emotions, and that that is fundamentally who he is. Evidently having some inconvenient feelies about Alex tho.

Oh no his delivery disguise makes him look like a caveman. Glad he took off the accessories for the Jones confrontation, his hair actually looks great there all tousled. (Beginning to realise how important characters hair is to me bc I still hate Julia’s I want some dark perfect waves this Bob is ough)

I’m really glad they settled on Yassen NOT knowing about John - he twists it that John didn’t betray him bc he had nothing to gain from being kind to him, so it wasn’t false, but he is so 100% loyal to John, eager to twist any criticism. I do wish we’d seen more of their relationship, but expecting some Russian roulette bits was overly optimistic

“I know my place” he’s IMMEDIATELY off to rescue his boy (actually, where did he go? All of that last episode I was just WHAT ABOUT YASSEN? Was he just plotting a rescue that didn’t need to happen and waiting for his boy to show up?)

Dare I say… good for blunt? Stephen dillane is just so charming I can’t help but like him. And you see some flashes of his ruthlessness like when he talks to Greif but he’s not a 24/7 conniving monster. Also Jones in charge and Alex possibly (definitely) returning to spy work in a couple of years? I like that. Totally abandoning it would have felt unsatisfying.

Loved that moment on the roof - missed opportunity for them to awkwardly wave at each other, but I’m so happy I predicted wrongly and Yassen gets to live and walk away and put down his weapons. There’s so much space for how they can reconnect in that.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Happy Kinkmas 22~ Alex Blake xFem Reader

Happy Kinkmas 2022!!!

Heyyyy. So this is a kinkmas blurb for Alex Blake. Let me know if you want a pt. 2... I may write one anyway lol. Readers be advised lol. Oh and I included a pic of the lingerie set which I was imagening, but imagine whatever please your fancy.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, implied sex, implied fingering, bondage kink, implied degrading kink, praise kink, clothing kink, implied overestimation, possession kink, blindfold kink, body kink, Alex being knee-wobbling, sorry if I missed any lol. just be advised

632 words... 

Enjoy (;

It was Christmas morning and Alex awoke in an empty bed.

You were missing, maybe you were in the kitchen? she thought.

She lazily made her way to the kitchen in her house and found you in a trench coat, making breakfast. 

“Well hello there” Alex groggily stated, startling you as you were making bacon. 

“Hey! Sorry, did I wake you? I thought we could have a Christmas breakfast spread!” you exclaimed, your face lighting up to see Alex

To be completely honest, Alex looked like a fucking goddess in the mornings from her posture, to her morning voice, to her gentle, sleepy touches.

Alex walked over to the coffee machine to pour herself a cup.

In doing so, she chuckled in her knee-wobbling groggy morning voice “What’s with the trench coat?”

You looked at her mischievously and wiggled your eyebrows in anticipation, “Its a surprise for after breakfast...”

She came up closer to you and partially whispered, “But what if I don’t want to wait till the end of breakfast...?”

You grinned, “Well that’s too bad, cuz you will. Plus, you don’t even know what the surprise is...”.

Before you could stop her, Alex darted to unslip the loose knot you had on the trench coat, causing you to yelp in objection.

Alex just stood there breathless as it was revealed what was under you trench coat.

You had bought a white two piece lingerie set with a kind of garter strap esque style. You grinned and blushed even more as Alex just stared at you. 

“Breakfast can wait.” she decisively said, lust coating her voice. 

“Or even better” she purred, “You can be my breakfast, my love” at that Alex licked her luscious lips the tiniest bit and you nodded vigorously in agreement, turning the stove off and leaving the food to follow Alex into the bedroom.

“You have no idea what that does to me, sweetheart” Alex swooned.

You took a step closer to her and her bed, “Tell me. God, please tell me” you begged, already feeling your neediness building quickly.

Alex’s eyes were filled with lust and heat as she came into your space and up to your ear, “Well for one, I want to tie you to this bed and just tease you for hours for wearing something so promiscuous... On the other side, I want us to make each other cum in every human way possible until were both shaking and can’t walk... But most of all, I want to fuck you into the mattress with biggest fucking strap I have until your pleading, no, begging, to cum over and over again, with my hand on your throat the entire time...”

Alex lustfully groaned as she continued in a low growl, “I wanna humiliate and call you filthy names, I want you screaming my name so that everyone in the neighborhood knows who you belong to, I want your pussy aching and so sensitive that a single flick could send you over the edge, I wanna spank you for being such a bad girl for buying this filth and doing this to me, I wanna cuff you to the bed, blindfold you and tease you all day until your a whimpering, begging hot mess...”

All you could do was whimper in response. “That’s what you do to me, when you wear something like that” Alex tauntingly growled.

You had never seen her like this, but you loved it. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, pet” she basically spat. 

“Yes, God yes!” you exclaimed.

Alex immediately pushed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you. 

“Then it’s gonna be a long day” she darkly chuckled.

As she began to tie up your hands to each side of the headboard she chuckled again, “Christmas? More like Kinkmas...”

[inchidentally]

(screencapped to stay out of the tags)

I'm going to be bundling my other tricky asks as always in one post under a cut but this one as actually a learning curve for me as someone who doesn't really follow Max stuff.

I genuinely hadn't realized just how much time Lando had spent with Max privately and non-F1 weekend related. I'm not esp a Max fan which would explain me missing a lot but I did know they had a pretty solid friendship that dated more closely to his friendship with George and Alex - but damn that's way more time spent with Max than any other driver this season!

what's funny too is that Max is actually super happy to be physically affectionate in a flirty way with other guys similar to how Lando is. Carlos is only like that with certain guys, namely Charles and guys his own age that he deems as "pretty". but as someone who pulled shippy shit from any car|ando interaction I can honestly say that the "ooh they touched in a sexy way!" stuff was just how Lando is with guys. Carlos firmly has Lando in the little brother/friend space and literally says he thinks Lando is "cute" and that it's weird when people ask them to kiss. and yes, they have dinner sometimes and travel on the same plane sometimes to the next race - but just this season Lando did that with Daniel and Oscar and Max as well.

so surely Max including Lando in all this personal life stuff and spending time together online and in Monaco during the winter break is a HUGE threat to car|ando? I genuinely can't and don't want to try and understand the larry mentality of RPF but if I had to guess then it's something as wild as them considering Max as already part of a major RPF ship (|estappen or maxtie|) that's supposedly ALSO taking place under cover of all these "fake" girlfriends? man I wish I could remove the terms "beard" and "escort" from these people's vocabulary.

I've also got an ask that apparently charlos causes rage for both |estappen and car|ando bc they have an agenda that Charles and Carlos hate each other but then keep getting infuriated when Charles mounts Carlos or Carlos won't stop touching Charles' thighs or they try to kiss for the millionth time. akgfsakfgaf how exhausting must it be keeping these theories going I caaaan't

but returning to your ask yea fact is that Lando is way closer and more of a friend outside F1 with Max than Carlos. they meet up probably the same amount during the drivers parades as car|ando and sometimes even get handsy. but I guess somehow that's different ?? even when Lando has teased that RB would be his only temptation away from McLaren and Christian Horner wants to en plein air fuck Lando ???

from what I can tell, Daniel was never considered a threat to car|ando which continues to be bizarre bc purely objectively again, I would say he's more of a friend outside F1 to Lando than Carlos. not by a whole lot but Daniel and Lando share road trips and private flights and Lando fits into Daniel's friend group really well. I guess maybe since Daniel's just widely loved in fandom in general there was less motive to try and tear down his relationship with Lando?

that's true, I also seem to recall starting to see this anti-landoscar BS starting around Japan/Oscar's contract extension. I suppose if I were trying to look at it through their angle then the Japan and Qatar double McLaren podiums coming right after Singapore - including Oscar's extension - would be seen as some kind of "insult" ? I guess Oscar went from being cute and non-threatening to suddenly cockblocking the Carlos back to McLaren pipe dream (that Carlos would literally only do as a fifth or sixth option and only if Ferrari gave him the boot lol). especially since Lando insisted on being crazy happy about the double podiums instead of I guess wistfully thinking of how much he wishes he could play second fiddle to Carlos getting the only non-RB win of the season instead of trying to idk help his team and himself in the standings.

then there was the crazy mood swing when Lando and Carlos went to dinner after Mexico and flew to Brazil together (with Rebecca) - to the rage when it turned out that Lando hanging out in Brazil for a day or two after the race wasn't car|ando bc Lando went to Cali almost immediately for sponsors meetings while Carlos and Rebecca both posted pics and video of their private holiday together that went right up until the day before the Vegas race. I definitely saw the uptick in car|ando agit prop after that whole shebang bc then Carlos wanted Rebecca at the "car|ando cup" and kept checking in on her. the hatred towards her truly took on a whole ugly and dark turn after that.

it is still so damn weird that Oscar/landoscar is the target that it is for them though. I have another ask where in some F1 group Christmas art the artist depicts Lando interacting with Carlos and not Oscar and ??? it's a drawing??? and I'm assuming they don't rate Lily's existence as security for car|ando since apparently any woman can be conveniently written off as a fake gf. but Oscar doesn't play gay with Lando and he didn't push for a bromance and generally keeps himself to himself unless Lando wants him around! he's a Lando fanboy but he's not even hardcore pushing content of him and Lando on his sm! the poor guy is literally just standing there catching strays bc of a mainstream bromance that has nothing to do with him

I'm sorry anon this went so wide of what you were saying but genuinely I used to spend so much of my time on car|ando accounts and it's slowly turning into a larry "they are looking to each other" edit type fandom ;__;

but fr why does Oscar get put in the "we hate the real life girlfriends" category ?????? I genuinely laugh bc it's so insane why isn't he like Max or Daniel why is he That Fake Bitch Standing In Our Ship's Way and they aren't is it bc he's prettier and serves natural cunt afglajfgalgfslafg

[iheartchv]

Hey, I'm 18, btw. Could I request a COD match-up?

I'm a native Russian speaker . Im learning 5 different languages (Swedish, German, Spanish, Polish, and English). My height is 5"2(156,6/157cm), and i weigh 40kg. Pale and have eyebags. Freezing 24/ Dark blond, short (chin length with blond locs) hair, and i have blue-gray eyes.

Have scoliosis and osteochandrosis, and astigmatism (wearing contact lenses). Give no fucks. Calm and stealthy as fuck (yes, I'm THAT silent that I scare the shit out of my parents. They call me ghost, mhm. ) I'm studying a landscape design in college. I'm a spender.

Energetic at night times only (23:00-06:30 am.) Sleep deprived and have an eating disorder (i HATE eating). Addicted to RedBull. INTJ. I LOVE to listen to music l have my headphones in 24/7. Love drawing (digital only), horror movies. No friends.

Srry for my English.

🤔 I match you with...

Alex Keller

I feel like Alex would be your match

Of course he'd try to be your friend at first

He would probably meet you while he was undercover for a mission

He saw someone following right behind you as soon as you walked by them

He followed, making sure not to raise suspicion to your pursuer

Needless to say he beat the crap out of the thug following you

"You okay there?" He'd ask you

You nodded. "I could've handled it myself though"

"Really?" He'd raise an eye brow and a tiny side smirk on his lips

"Can I walk you home?"

Sure he was getting sidetracked from his main objective, but he couldn't leave you to try and fend off that creep

On the wall home he decided to try to small talk with you, trying to make you feel more at ease

There was something about you that seeemed to pull his thoughts from anything but you

You were in the back of his mind, and couldn't stop thinking about you

He had to see you again, but now was too soon

Instead, he paid for a room nearby to stay in while he was still undercover

For a few weeks or months, he didn't know how long he was going to stay

Alex met you on a subway later on, seeing you with headphones on, listening to music

He sat beside you, wondering how he should approach this...

He tapped you

"Hey"

He put on a small smile

"How are you?"

You pulled an earphone away from one of your ears and were startled but recognized who he was

"Fine. Thanks again for helping me out the other day."

"No problem. What're you listening to?"

He was doing what he could to keep a conversation going between you and him

And the more you talked, the more he was fascinated with you

He handed you a small piece of paper with the number and info for the place he was staying at

"You can call me if you need me anytime"

You tucked the paper in your pocket and thanked him

Well, you didn't call him, but he did come to your rescue when you and many others got held hostage

You couldn't believe that Alex was a military man, undercover

You saw him a different light bow as you saw him in action

Your heart felt warm and fuzzy

And even more so as he held you in his arms, carrying you to safety

After that, you two became close friends, keeping in touch even from across the world

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 59: Easy

SATURDAY - WINTER 13

As much as Achilles loathed the snow, it had proven to have somehow gifted him a rather peaceful and productive series of days. Though perhaps it was less the snow, and more… Alex. Nothing else—no one else, really—he’d encountered in Stardew had quite managed to calm the rollercoaster of this past year as well as Alex had. 

Was he thinking about him? Likely not—the kiss he’d left behind had been, objectively, clearly more jest than anything else. Regardless, Achilles hadn’t allowed idle speculation to distract him from the duties at hand. Holed up in the temperate climate of his well-heated home, he had neglected to shovel his 2 acres of land, opting instead to sit at his desk with a cat in his lap and a pen in his hand. It wasn’t a novel he was writing, however—no, his brain still refused to respond in that regard—but letters. Letters to family, letters to old friends, letters to himself. 

But the blinding, glowing sun cutting through his windows early Saturday morning had managed to melt with its golden cheer even his hatred for the cold. And so, shortly after 6am, Achilles threw on a robe and made himself a cup of tea before tottering his stiff joints to the front door. A breath of fresh air couldn’t hurt. Perhaps he’d do some bird watching on the porch or… something. 

But it seemed that someone else had had similar ideas. 

“What the fuck—god dammit—” This was really getting out of hand—really ought to get a lid for your mugs at this rate, or a thermos… Achilles wiped his sodden sleeve across his porch swing’s wooden plank of an armrest. It did not help, and now his hand was scraped as well as scalded. “Really, Alex we ought to put a bell on you, with this little habit of yours, just loitering around on my porch—you can knock, you know.” 

“Oh—geez, I’m sorry, not my fault you’re so jumpy, I’m sorry—I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake—” 

“I’m always awake. It’s a real problem.” Achilles clicked his tongue and nodded for Alex to take a seat on the swing before noticing the six inches of snow piled on the cushion. “Come inside. I suppose I’ll have to make myself another cup now, would you like one?” 

“Oh. No, I can’t stay long. First day on the new job, wanna get there early… I just wanted to… stop by. Say hi.”

“Oh yes! Mr. Manager.” Achilles glanced to the east where the bus stop lay beyond the borders of Strawberry Farms. Even shielding his eyes, he still had to squint to make out Alex’s halting footsteps breaking up the otherwise untouched snow. “Damn. You trudged through all that just to say hi?” 

“Well, in my defense, I expected you to’ve shoveled the path.” 

“Yikes. Me? Big mistake—”

“—yeah, I see that now—”

“—I assumed it’d be, I don’t know, a government responsibility. How long does it take snow to melt?” 

“Why would the government be shoveling the snow on your farm, Ash?” 

“I don’t know, listen, I hail from desert country—”

“Ohhhh, I see, did the government shovel sand out of your driveway in Monstera? Because you might just be getting that mixed up with being rich.” 

“Yeah, yeah, all right…” Achilles chucked a halfheartedly constructed snowball that Alex easily dodged. “Now what do you want? Everything okay? What brings you lurking like a gremlin on my porch this early in the morning?”

“No, everything’s fine, I was just… hoping to catch you.” 

“Well. You caught me.” Achilles glanced down at his still-wet sleeve. It was too cold for this, and he likely needed a bandage. 

Alex bit his lip before reaching into his coat—Yoba, really, it was quite unfair how one could make such a simple, innocent little hand motion look so seductive. He withdrew a pale green envelope and offered it forward. “I, um. I wrote you a letter—” 

“Did you steal that from Lewis? I swear he has the same stationary—” 

“—I just figured I’d hand deliver it since, you know, you never open your dang mail, you punk.” 

“A thing like that! You know, that’s probably the most considerate thing a person has ever done for me this whole year.” With a squirrelly little smile, Achilles slipped his pointer finger smoothly under the envelop flap before catching sight of Alex staring rather alarmingly wide-eyed, as if petrified, at the letter between his hands. “Or… shall I open it later?” 

“Oh—um—no, that’s all right, you can go ahead. Actually, no—yes. Later. Actually, you know what, I’ll just read it to you.” 

Bemused but chuckling lightly, Achilles offered the envelope back. But Alex only shook his head. 

“Man, I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m sorry. I’ll just tell you what it says.” 

“So… no one’s opening the letter…?” 

Alex shook his head again, ran a hand through his hair—a few strands broke loose from whatever gel or product he must’ve used to style it this morning. Being manager demanded a fresh new look, it seemed, but Achilles bit back his smile—didn’t seem appropriate, given that Alex seemed close to hyperventilating on his front porch.

Instead, Achilles pocketed the letter, which seemed to be the main source of Alex’s unusually pale visage, and asked, “Are you… okay…? You sure you don’t… want some… tea?”

And just like that, it was as if a light switch had been flicked. Alex smiled and, cocking his head slightly, chirped, “Would you like to get dinner tonight? 

“What?” Achilles took half a second to register the dissonance regarding the degree of joy that had accompanied this rather banal question. He’d been expecting something much more dramatic—Lewis’ last will and testament, perhaps… “Dinner? …Sure. Is any place going to be open, though? With all the snow? Still seems quite deep.”  

“Yeah, the government does actually shovel public property, if you must know—”

“All right—”

“I checked with Gus on the way here, the Stardrop’s open. If that works. For you.” 

“What time?” 

Alex blinked several times before asking, “6:30?” 

“Sure.” 

“Yeah?” 

“…yeah…” 

Alex beamed. “Wow! Really? Great! Really great! Um. I’ll see you then!” 

Achilles nodded slowly, his wet sleeve forgotten as his brain worked to stymie the confusion currently sweeping his brain as Alex bounded off the porch and nearly half-skipped off the farm. It was quite a few minutes before he retreated back indoors, where he promptly curled himself onto his couch beneath the portrait of two root vegetables and continued to think. 

Alex, on the other hand, was halfway through his very first day as Orange Grove Fitness’ new manager before realizing that both the conversation he had spent all night constructing and the letter he had spent all morning writing had been completely devoid of quite a number of choice key words. And right at the end of his lunch break! Head buried atop his new desk, a ham and cheese sandwich scrunched in his fist as his (Achilles’) watch struck 2…

“Oh, you stupid idiot, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Date. How in the heckity heck did you miss the word—”

*****

This was a date. 

Surely, Alex had been asking him out on a date. 

Now he hadn’t said the word date. But the man wouldn’t have chewed straight through his lip or hiked two miles through half-shoveled snow to hand deliver a hand written note just to ask Achilles to a simple dinner. Right? They’d had dinner a million times, there was definitely something different to this one. Right? 

Stay calm, bitch! 

The clues were clear—Achilles had written them down in his notebook to better organize his thoughts, and even if he set aside his own feelings, the whole situation was still quite objectively suspect. An ordinary request such as this would not have required such extra-ordinary efforts if the aforementioned ordinary request was, in actuality, an ordinary request. RIGHT?  

But it just seemed so… sudden. Surely a near-platonic peck on the nose couldn’t have triggered something to this extent? He had hoped the letter would be more explicit, but it unfortunately hadn’t revealed much either. 

Hi Achilles! Hope you enjoyed your first ever snow day. Or snow week, really. How many crosswords did you get done? I bet you made the most of it, but if you didn’t, that’s cool, too. 

I know this mihgt seem really sudden, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot these past couple of days, and I would love if you met me in the saloon tonight for dinner. 6:30pm if that works.

Hope to see you then! :-)

Best,

Alex. 

He’d have given the man a call to clarify if it hadn’t been his first day on the new job.

Oh, Alex, Alex, Alex… 

Achilles was calm. He was always calm, right? He’d just… act normal. Follow Alex’s lead. Yes. This was going to be fine. 

But he made sure to clean his room. Just in case. 

*****

Alex—well the whole town, really—always claimed he overdressed, so even if this wasn’t a date, the embroidered bomber jacket Achilles had adorned wouldn’t have raised any alarm bells. 

It would be best not to get his hopes up, though. Just in case. But as Achilles trudged through the half-shoveled snow to the saloon, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. 

Emily welcomed him the moment he stepped foot in the saloon, her eyes glittering as she took his arm. Haley, he saw, was coincidentally paying the Stardrop a rare visit today, having claimed a booth to herself despite the crowds and its accompanying damp, musty scent. She pursed her lips when he made eye contact, gave a wily little wiggle of her shoulders—really, quite remarkable how up in his business that button nose of hers could reach. He responded with a venomous grin and a raised middle finger. Incredibly impolite, of course, but he was only returning what she’d given him many a season ago. 

Achilles followed Emily down the back hall to where the private rooms lay (So… definitely a date, right?), where they stopped at the very last door. 

“Right along in here… oh, and would you look at that, I forgot to bring the menus. You go on in, I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, all right, Emily…”  

As she dashed away, arms held aloft like a ballerina, he took a deep breath, then pushed the door open. 

Immediately, Alex, who had been seated at a small table in quite a small private room, jumped to his feet, tripping over the wooden chair as he half-stumbled for the door. “Hey!” 

Oh fuck. 

Outside of the Flower Festival back in the Spring, Achilles had rarely seen Alex out of activewear and athleisure. The sight of those arms now, tight in the sleeves of a forest green cardigan, would’ve alone been enough to send even Leah’s heart racing, surely. But the lightly patterned, sage button down—well. A man after his own heart.

Alex’s hair was combed back, tidier than he’d ever seen it (though a part of Achilles did miss the casual, semi-messy curls of it all), and as he shut the door behind him, he noticed something more akin to vanilla and cinnamon had replaced Alex’s usual citrus scent. 

But Achilles quickly found his breath and shook himself out of his reverie, taking a step forward just as Alex finished picking up the chair he’d sent keeling to the floor. 

“Hi—”

“This-was-supposed-to-be-a-date-but-if-you-don’t-want-it-to-be-one-I-completely-understand-I-didn’t-mean-to-ambush-you-I’m-just-really-stupid-just-tell-me-whatever-it-is-you-want.” 

But Achilles could only blink, lost in Alex’s rather anxious, wild-eyed stare, eyes greener than ever in the rosy overhead lighting. 

Did you hear that right? It is a date—you were right, good for you. Wait. He definitely said date, right? He said it was a date. Confirm? Confirm— “Pardon?” 

“Also these are for you. I mean, if you want them.”

Alex half-shoved a cellophaned bouquet into Achilles’ hands. Half a dozen white roses and goldenrod wrapped in a emerald green ribbon. Not Pierre’s work, or even Jojamart’s. No, someone must’ve paid a visit to a Zuzu City florist. 

Date?

Yes! Date! 

Man, you gotta say something, bitch. 

“Oh. Thank you. These are… beautiful. Thanks. Yes. A date. I… assumed.” 

Assumed? Assumed? My god, what an arrogant prick you are. Get it together. What’s the matter with you?

He accepted the flowers from Alex, and in a sudden flash of inspiration, let his fingers linger on Alex’s for perhaps one or two seconds longer than necessary as the bouquet was passed between them. The effect was instantaneous—at this apparent affirmation of Achilles’, Alex’s visibly brightened, bounding back to the dinner table and pulling out Achilles’ chair for him. 

“Wow,” he exclaimed, scooting the chair forward as Alex hurried to the other end of the table. “I didn’t think people did that anymore. You do this for all the girls or just me?” 

“Don’t feel too special, I do that for everyone.”

“Damn. At least tell me I’m prettier than all the other girls you’ve dated.” 

“You know I don’t like lying, Ash, don’t make me do it.” Alex grinned, handing him a menu that Emily evidently had not forgotten to leave behind. 

“Zero for two. Well, it was worth a try.” God, shut up. He must’ve been more nervous than he realized. Babbling like this. Stupid jokes. Chill out, man. Why are you nervous? You’re never nervous! No reason to be nervous. He asked you out… you have all the power here. Yoba, shut the fuck up! Stop thinking like that! What’s wrong with you? Asshole! 

Achilles’ poker face was near to breaking as his self-disgust began to overwhelm his nerves, but he was luckily rescued by Emily, who had returned with a knock at the door. “No violin today, Al?” She shimmied in with her question, ignoring Alex’s groan, and raised her notepad, ready to take their orders. 

“I haven’t had Gus play the violin for me in 10 years, Emily, when is that joke ever going to die—” 

“Ask him about the violin,” she said, bumping Achilles’ shoulder with her hip. “And the Handbook.” 

“Emily—”

“Now just a warning for ya, it’s a bit busy tonight. Seems like lots of folks eager to get out after the storm, but Gus’ll get your order out shortly. Now what can I get for y’all?” 

A steak for Alex, linguine with mushroom cream for Achilles—with her usual spritely bow, Emily scampered from the room, leaving Alex still red from whatever merciless ribbing she had dealt him. 

“So,” Achilles began, lifting his glass of water. Perhaps a cold drink would wash away his lingering anxieties, though Emily’s return had broken most of the tension for him. “The violin…” 

With the defeated air of getting something over with, Alex took a similar swig from his water before launching into a hurried, one-breath explanation. “My grandpa gave me a dating handbook when I turned 13, and yes, I will admit I followed it pretty religiously up through college, so Haley really got to see the worst of it all, and she and Emily have never gotten over it, but hey, in my defense there’s some stuff in there that’s really not half bad, I swear.”  

“Like giving your date flowers? And pulling out their chair?”

Alex grimaced.

“Well shit, Al, I’m feeling less and less special by the second.” 

Here, Alex seemed to visibly deflate, sinking deeper into the back of his chair until Achilles, rather alarmed by the somewhat uncharacteristic lack of confidence—maybe he’s nervous, too, bitch—rapped his fingers sharply against the table. “I’m just joking, Al. Sorry, I’m being an ass, it’s very… charming.”

That seemed to be enough to pull Alex back to his usual self, and Achilles quickly plowed ahead, making sure to keep his tone light. “But the violin Emily mentioned?” 

“Ah. Yes.” Alex rubbed his nose, preparing his next words carefully as if gearing up for the worst. “Well, if you must know… according to the handbook, I’m supposed to start first dates with a little sort of violin serenade from Gus.” 

“You’re lying to me.” 

“I really wish I was.”

“And you actually… did that.” 

“Oh, just a few times. I don’t know man, my only source of dating advice when I moved here was my really old and old fashioned grandpa.”

“Fair enough. I’ll allow it.”

Alex chuckled, and once again took a quick sip from his drink just as Achilles raised his own. A lull in the conversation—but not an uncomfortable one, Achilles thought, as he took the opportunity to casually savor the view from over the rim of his glass. He hadn’t ever really allowed himself to do it before. It had always felt rather intrusive, salacious even, to stare for longer than a beat or so—but surely now, of all times, it was… okay. Right?

Clearly Alex had put in quite a bit of effort tonight, really, it felt wrong not to appreciate it all… anyway, it was hard to ignore those eyes sparkling from across the table, pink lips slightly parted as Alex readied himself to take probably his twentieth sip of water. Achilles could think of just a few other things he’d rather see those lips do, but he dug his thumb into his palm and refocused himself back to the present. You perv, he thought, his own lips twisting to the side as he attempted to hold back a wry grin. Get your mind out of the gutter.

It was Alex who broke the silence, with a tentative observation of his own. “You, um… you look really nice.” His fingers were locked tightly together as they rested atop the table, and through the floorboards, Achilles could feel the faint vibration of what must have been Alex bouncing his foot. “You don’t usually wear black.” 

“I do in the Winter, you’ll see. It tricks me into thinking I’m less cold than I am.” 

“Ha.” 

“You look good, too.” Achilles threw a nod in Alex’s general direction. “Probably should’ve opened with that, I was thinking it when I came in, but I suppose the words didn’t get a chance to make it out of my mouth.” 

“Oh!” A blush crept into the man’s cheeks as he glanced towards the floor. “Thank you. I- I wasn’t sure, personally, I told Haley I thought the sweater was too small, you know, but she, uh, she told me to shut up—” 

“Always, such a lovely, lovely girl.” Achilles’ eyes followed the well-defined slope of Alex’s bicep. “But she’s right. Don’t worry. It’s perfect.” 

“Well, I can’t really raise my arms…”

“Listen, I don’t know if you know this, but I actually come from a long line of really famous fashion designers, and by long line, I mean just my mother—”

“Man, you don’t know a dang thing about fashion—” 

“Fuck, 0/3—I thought this was supposed to be a date, why are you being so mean to me?”

“I’m not—well because—because you’re so calm, why are you always so calm, it’s pissing me off.” With a barking laugh, Alex chucked his napkin across the table as Achilles, rather bewildered by Alex’s uncharacteristically off-base observation, flung his hands instinctively in front of his face. 

“It’s incredibly kind of you to ignore the five mental breakdowns you’ve witnessed me have, is doing that part of your grandpa’s handbook, too?” But as Achilles slid the cloth back across the table, he became more serious, and he continued in a somewhat softer tone. “There’s no reason to be nervous, Al, it’s just me. Just think of all the times I’ve humiliated myself in front of you, eh?”

That elicited a small smile, at the very least. But while Achilles’ anxiety had since settled for the most part, it seemed Alex would need more than a weak joke. 

“Speaking of nerves though, how was the first day on the new job, Mr. Manager?” 

Achilles gave himself a private pat on the back as Alex jumped at the redirection, the apprehension in his eyes rapidly melting as he eagerly shared his new schedule. 

What a pro you are! Still got it… 

The conversation carried them all through Emily’s return with their appetizers and dishes—and it was only after she left (with a rather unnecessary promise of “leaving them undisturbed”), that Alex’s hands, so animated during his recounting, returned to tightly gripping the glass of his water. 

Achilles waited—as Alex would ruefully say—calmly. It was clear he had something to say.

And indeed, Alex cleared his throat with the tiniest cough and, after a quick glance at the door to confirm they were indeed alone, pulled his chair an inch forward. 

“Um. Right. Achilles. So. I thought I’d get a private room so we could… talk. I mean, not that we wouldn’t be able to talk if we didn’t have a private room, but it’s loud out there, and it’s what my grandpa’s handbook always said I should do anyway—I don’t know why I just admitted that, I’m sorry. Um, anyway, all that to say—you know, actually, I wrote myself some notes, sorry, give me a second…” 

He fumbled with something in the pocket of his chinos as Achilles smothered another smile. 

“This really makes me look like a nerd doesn’t it, but I just wanted to make sure I was… clear. About things. And didn’t forget anything, you know, especially after how stupid I was this morning. So if you could, um, maybe listen for a bit?” 

Achilles gave a smooth, little nod that managed not to betray the twitch that had returned to his limbs. “For sure. The floor’s all yours.” 

Alex grimaced and, taking a deep breath, unfolded a rather wrinkled piece of notebook paper and began to read aloud in a rather toneless, slow and slightly stuttered recitation. 

“When we first met, I was instantly drawn to you. And it wasn’t just because I was your number one fan.” He glanced up. “Ha.” Eyes dropped abruptly back down to the page as he continued. 

“I think a part of me knew we were destined to be great friends. And I was really happy when we actually did become friends. I had never had a friend like you. You were so smart and cool and you made me feel like I could actually do things with my life. I really liked spending time with you.

“And then during the blizzard, I…” The paper between Alex’s hands began to crinkle as his grip tightened ever so slightly, but he continued to stare, laser focused, on the scribbled words. “Well I started thinking that maybe I liked you as… more than a friend. It was confusing. I kept telling myself, ‘You can’t have these feelings for another guy.’ I mean, I’d never had feeling like this for anyone.

“But I thought about it a lot. Went back and forth a lot trying to decide, I was going crazy, really. And, well. I think I really like you. Like that. And that’s why I wanted to ask you out on a date to—what? Oh. I think I spelled ‘tonight’ wrong. Agh, stupid. Okay, anyway. And that’s why I wanted to ask you out on a date tonight.” 

With a bit of a sniff, Alex folded the paper back into quarters and gave Achilles a rather awkward, teeth-baring attempt at a smile. It was the most unflattering he had ever looked, in Achilles’ opinion, and somehow that made it all the better. Alex patted his folded notes and ended with a little nod. “Well. That’s it.” 

During the blizzard… 

So this had been a much more recent realization than Achilles had originally believed. 

Thank Yoba you didn’t make a move earlier. 

Had it really just been the kiss on the Mullner’s front porch? It had barely been a kiss—couldn’t have been less romantic if he’d tried. Was that really all it had taken to ignite this? He’d taken barely three days to think this through. Though, then again, he supposed Alex had always been the more impulsive one between them… Not everyone spends a whole week anguishing over pros and cons lists, you dumb bitch. 

“What was the turning point?” Achilles asked as Alex shoved the scrap of paper back into his pocket. “I’m just curious. These past few days, what made you ultimately decide that you… wanted this?” 

“Oh. During the storm.” Alex shoved the scrap of paper back into his pocket. “I don’t know, I guess I just realized… I don’t know. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would’ve been to have been snowbound with you.” 

*****

After it became clear to Alex that Achilles was not going to escape out the back door of the saloon after hearing Alex’s prepared remarks, his usual optimistic countenance quickly returned. By the time the two dug into their dinners, they had managed to roll back into their usual groove, chatting and laughing with familiar ease all through dessert until Emily returned with the check. 

“Oh, I’ve got it—”

“Like hell you do—”

“I was the one who asked you out, I should pay—”

“Emily, give me the check or I’m never coming here again—”

“That’s an empty threat if I’ve ever heard one, the only thing you cook yourself is a boiled egg.”

Emily seemed to agree. She hip checked Achilles’s outstretched hand and, with a rather hyena-like cackle, seized Alex’s card before dodging Achilles once again on her way out. 

“You know, the Handbook says it’s proper for the man to always pay,” Alex said, snootily tossing his napkin onto his plate with a raised pinkie. “Now I don’t know what that means for us, exactly, but at least let me have this one, will you?” 

Achilles rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he craned his neck in search of nothing. “The napkin’s actually supposed to go on the left when you’re finished with your meal, but never mind that. Where’s Gus? Can someone get Gus? I want a violin serenade pronto.” 

*****

Haley had disappeared by the time the two emerged from the private room, but Achilles, who had eyes for only one person, didn’t notice her absence. Neither did he notice the thick clumps of snow now falling under the glow of the moon, even as Alex held open for him the Stardrop’s front door and said, “Want to take a walk? It’s not too late, I don’t think.” 

“Sure,” Achilles said with a soft smile. The bouquet Alex had gifted him was in one hand, and he tightened his scarf with the other as he stepped out into the cold. “Just a walk, though? Not a run?” 

“Oh, you want to run?” 

Without waiting for a response, Alex tore down the cobblestone path to the south. 

“Fuck—Al, you’re going to slip and break your neck—fucking athletes, I knew I’d sworn them off for a reason—“ 

But the wind covered his calls and his muttered curses, and he had no choice but to hurtle after Alex, laughing even as he skidded past a bewildered Lewis. He hadn’t jogged in a fat minute—not that he likely would’ve caught up to Alex anyway at his peak back in the Fall—but even despite the cold, he gave a merry chase, sprinting across the bridge until his foot found the soft, squishy crunch of slushy sand. There was snow on the beach. Of course there was—we just had a blizzard, you dolt. 

But even so, the strange sight came a surprise. He stopped to take in the cool glow of the snow, a white sheet stretching all the way down to the waves up ahead. It wasn’t deep, but the dampness still managed to seep through his boots. 

Luckily, the rest of him was all warmed up now, thanks to their mile race through Pelican Town. Whether that had actually been Alex’s intention, nervous energy, or the man just couldn’t help but exercise whenever given the opportunity, he wasn’t quite sure. Regardless, with a bit of a wheeze, he sidled up next to where Alex (who was infuriatingly not out of breath) stood waiting by Elliott’s cabin. The light was on, casting both arrivers in its mellow beam, but if the writer had noticed their arrival, he took care not to disturb them. 

“Can I, um… can I hold your hand?” 

“Hmm?” Achilles, who was still slightly bent at the waist catching his breath, glanced rather pitifully up at the green-clad figure above. 

“I just… I just figured it’d make the whole thing feel a little bit more like a date,” Alex, slightly red, said with the barest hint of a shrug. “I don’t know, sorry, is that weird? We don’t have to. It’s just that… it’s just  kinda felt like we’ve been… hanging out.” 

“We are hanging out,” Achilles said, slowly straightening himself up. “I mean, if we break it down, that’s basically what a date is, right?” 

“I guess…” 

Achilles had never exactly loved the concept of holding hands—he sweat too easily and it threw off his stride—but off of Alex’s blink-and-you-missed-it frown, he weaved his arm through Alex’s and led him towards the boardwalk.

Remember what Elliott said… 

Physical touch was never Achilles’ forte. It’s not that he disliked it. Quite the contrary (well, as long as it was in private). It was simply that non-sexual touch didn’t come as naturally to him as it did for others. Often more of an afterthought than something top of mind. But, as Elliott had reminded him, Alex, who greeted his friends with a hug nearly as often as he did a wave, would likely find more validation in something beyond the mere time they were spending together.

“Would you like to sit down?” Alex kicked a clump of snow off the wooden planks and into the water before laying down his coat and chuckling. “Shoot, I really feel like I’m 13. Yoba, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry, I promise, I’ve been on a lot of dates before—”

“Wow, we’ve got a veritable Casanova out here, everyone—”

“All right, that didn’t come out right, you know what I meant. Although I don’t really know what you meant just now—” 

“You’re a big baller.” 

“Okay, okay, no, I just… look, I just don’t know what to do. With you.” 

“A thing like that. You know how to make a boy feel special. What does the Handbook recommend?” 

Alex began to tick off his fingers as he huddled slightly closer to Achilles on the boardwalk. “Well we’ve had the dinner. I got you flowers. Pulled out your chair. Paid. Asked if we could hold hands. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but later I’m going to offer to walk you home if you must know.” 

“That’s adorable—you’re adorable—has anyone on your numerous dates before ever told you that?” 

“Man, I could beat you up.” 

“Why are you always threatening to beat me up?”

“Wasn’t it you who once said that every child deserves to get bullied just a little bit or something?” 

“Are you calling me a child?”  

“Man, I’m just making up for lost time, you don’t seem like someone who got shoved into a locker enough as a kid.” 

Despite the confidence in Alex’s quip, Achilles could feel the tension in the tightened muscles of his arm. The small space Alex had left between them had felt purposeful—tentative. Even now, Achilles watched as his hands fluttered from place to place, as if eager for something to hold, but too afraid to commit. 

Realizing it would be up to him to reassure a flustered Alex out of his hesitation, Achilles closed the gap, tightening the grip around his bicep and tucking his head onto his shoulder. The whole thing was admittedly rather stiff in its deliberateness, but as he better settled into the crook of Alex’s neck—felt Alex, who seemed to recognized the permission Achilles had silently granted, now reach eagerly for his hand—and inhaled the rich, velvety scent of vanilla, he believed there wasn’t a spot in the world he’d rather be. 

Minutes passed, and they listened to the waves crash against the shore. 

“Do you think Elliott’ll stay in the valley? If his book gets published?” 

“Hmm.” Achilles stirred—shit, had he nearly fallen asleep? Can’t fall asleep in your own damn bed, but everything’s always fine and dandy and soothing out here on this damp ass wood. What’s this boardwalk got on you?

Though maybe it wasn’t the boardwalk’s doing. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’d like to think so. I hope he buys himself a better house at any rate… or at least a second chair…” 

“Have you been writing?” 

“Mmm. Not in the way you’re asking. Does it count if it’s in my head?” 

“I don’t see why not. But hey, I don’t make the rules.”  

Achilles sighed and lay slowly down, his back against the boardwalk as he gazed up at the stars. Alex followed, though he chose to lie on his side, one arm beneath his head, the other resting atop Achilles’ chest as his hand continued to grip Achilles’. 

“I’ve got an idea. Well, it’s the same idea I had before, if you remember those pages you snooped a look at when you were cleaning my house… I’ve got it pretty much outlined in my head and everything, it’s just… well you know. I want it to mean something. I want it to matter, I want to finally write something… more than all those kid books I wrote when I was younger, those were so simple, so… stupid. I just don’t know why it’s so fucking hard.” 

The stars twinkled above them, and Alex thumbed his hand. The soft touch, combined with the steady rhythm of the small movement, slowly sweetened the bitter hollow that seemed to have taken up semi-permanent residence in his chest. 

“Sometimes I think we’ve built up this idea that we have to always be, like, fighting for the things that we want. That if something isn’t hard then it must be wrong or, like… I don’t know. Not important.” Alex was tracing letters onto the back of Achilles’ hand now. “But I don’t know, maybe it’s the lazy bum part of me but sometimes—and I promise, I do mean sometimes, not all the time… but sometimes I do think things are easy because they’re the right thing to do.” 

Achilles turned his head. In the dark, Alex’s eyes were black, but under the glow of the moon, he could count the snowflakes on every lash. 

*****

“Well. Here it comes, drum roll please, everyone: can I walk you home?” Alex gave Achilles a hand as they rose from the boardwalk and didn’t let go as they exited the beach. 

“Only if you give me a copy of this Handbook later.” 

“I actually wonder if I do have a copy somewhere still… I don’t know, I’ve pretty much got it memorized at this point.”

“Because you’ve gone on so many dates.”

“Yeah, exactly. I was a real Casa—Cassiopeia? What did you say before?”

“Casanova? Wait, did you say Cassiopeia—fairly niche mythological reference—”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises. Anyway, whatever, I was hot stuff before you got to know me, you know.” 

“Man, shut the fuck up, you were hot stuff even while I knew you, remember Abigail’s birthday party…” 

The two laughed as they made their way back to Strawberry Farms, taking the slightly longer route through Cindersap Forest, despite the cold and the late hour.

Alex walked him to the porch. The motion sensor lights Achilles had installed nearly a year ago had flickered on the moment they passed the shipping bin, and so they stood awash in the weak fluorescence of a buzzing overhead lamp. 

He was lingering—definitely lingering, biting his lip in typical Alex-fashion, his eyes dancing everywhere except Achilles’ face. And after a beat, Achilles—ever impatient—said, “All right, are you going to ask me if you can kiss me now?” 

Alex jumped—actually jumped. “Oh.” Between rapid blinks, he managed to stutter, “Do you want me to ask you?” 

“I—it was a joke.” 

“Do you want me to?” 

“It was a joke. You know, with the Handbook. I assumed you were just gearing up for Step 5 or whatever step we’ve reached…”  

“Oh. No, I’m not supposed to kiss anyone until the third date. Obviously. Anything sooner is impolite and im… dang, what was the other word… immoral? Is that a word? Yes. Immoral. Obviously.” 

“What?” Achilles stepped back, throwing a hand to his forehead in mock shock. “Fuck, so this whole time, my whole life—I’ve just been a slut? Shit, I always knew it—” 

Alex laughed, but, to Achilles’ surprise, took a small, shy step forward.  “Do you want me to ask you?” 

Taking a page from Alex’s book, Achilles found himself biting his own lip as he met Alex’s inscrutable gaze. “I—Yes.” 

A pause. And then, “Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” 

In one step, Alex closed the remaining foot between them. His hands gripped the back of Achilles’ neck, and with a boldness he had been so hesitant to demonstrate earlier this evening, Alex cupped his face and kissed him. 

He tasted like vanilla and he tasted like gold and as Achilles let himself drown in the molten glow of his touch, he found he felt… happy. 

But the kiss didn’t last long—barely a second, really, for Alex’s lips had almost instantly parted upon impact in that wide-toothed grin of his, his tongue peeking out per usual—and the two of them quickly dissolved into laughter.  

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alex whispered, still half-laughing as he leaned his forehead into Achilles’. “That was… really bad. I swear I’m better than that—”

“Yeah, all that practice being hot stuff and all—”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I was born so dang se—” 

“Stay the night.” But through the sleeves of a slightly-damp coat, he felt Alex stiffen, and so Achilles hurried to add, “We don’t have to do anything. I don’t expect anything. We can just talk. I just… I don’t want you to leave just yet.” 

Immediately, Alex slackened as a small but earnest smile returned to his face. 

“Ok.” 

*****

Achilles put on some late night tea as Alex took a seat in the kitchen, Voltaire already snuggled in his lap. 

Over the course of the blizzard, Achilles had finally moved the typewriter from where it had been sitting, like a monument to all his shortcomings, untouched upon the table. Not that he’d gotten around to taking it out of the box—it was now sitting underneath his desk, still packaged—but, hey, small steps.

Sitting in the center of the kitchen table now were a dozen white roses and goldenrod blooms in Achilles’ favorite (well, only remaining) vase.

“I can boil you an egg, too, if you’d like,” Achilles said, lips twitching as he slid over a cup of chamomile tea and a tray of strawberry scones he’d purchased from Pierre’s that afternoon.

“Ya know what, that sounds great, but I’m actually good. But thanks.” 

It was easy—so easy to just sit here, together. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. It had always been easy with Alex. 

They sat across the table from each other. Perhaps if Achilles had remembered Elliott’s advice, had been a little bit more thoughtful of a person, he would’ve moved closer—held Alex’s hand again, maybe bump his knee with his own. But in the moment, he was too drunk on his own happiness to give Alex’s prospective wants the consideration they likely should’ve deserved. 

The scones and tea had long disappeared, but the two were eager to use any excuse to prolong the end of the evening—from walking through the schedule for Elliott’s book reading tomorrow to dissecting the latest season of The Bachelor (which neither of them actually watched, yet both were somehow still in the know), it wasn’t until the clock struck midnight that Achilles, in begrudging acknowledgment that any further delays would throw off his finely tuned sleeping schedule, slapped the table and stood.

“Well. I’ve got some extra toothbrushes and some clothes you can borrow, if that works for you. Ready to call it a night?” 

*****

What is wrong with you. 

It was Alex who was in the shower right now, but it was Achilles’ good mood that seemed to be dripping down the drain. 

God, why can’t you just enjoy things, you bastard. 

Surely he deserved to be happy, even if just a little bit, right? Yes, surely being happy was allowed. Then why was it now feeling like some sort of… betrayal? 

Fuck, who is there even to betray, bitch? Get yourself together. No one wants to date a grump. 

He needed to be better. Alex deserved better. Alex, who was like light and like stars. Alex, who was turning out to be everything and more than what he ever had hoped to imagine. He could be better, if this stupid ass mood of his would just go away. 

Where did you even come from? Get out and mind your own damn business and let me be happy for once.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the water shutting off—neither did he hear Alex call his name as he stood sourly against the wall of his bedroom, half-dressed, still trying to duke it out with his own brain. 

“Achilles? What are you thinking about?”

“Hmm?” He snapped his head towards the voice. 

“You’re thinking about something.” Alex had emerged from the bathroom wearing a set of sweatpants and an old t shirt Achilles had found at the back of a drawer. “I can see it on your face, what is it?” 

“Mmm.” Achilles massaged the bridge of his nose and set a glass of water down by the nightstand before opening the top drawer to retrieve something small. “Nothing I haven’t already thought pretty much to death.” 

Alex cocked his head, a knowing look on his face as he padded around the bed to take a seat behind the desk. “Want to think about it to death with me?” 

“I— No.”

“You sure?” 

Achilles uncrossed his arm only to cross them again. “I mean, we’re on a date…” 

“Sure, but we’re still friends, aren’t we?”   

Fuck. 

Always with the patience of a saint. He didn’t deserve him—hell, was there anyone on this planet who deserved him? And strangely, with this thought, as quickly as his mood had come did it fade. Maybe it was true that nobody deserved Alex, but for some unbelievable reason Alex wanted him, and he trusted Alex’s judgement, so hey, who was Achilles to deprive him of that? 

“It’s fine. Really. Like I told you before, it comes and goes…. Here.” Achilles held out his hand, dropping the item he’d retrieved from his nightstand into Alex’s open palm. “This is yours. Held onto it for awhile there, didn’t I. Sorry about that.”

“Oh! Yes, thank you!” Alex rested his arm across his leg to better clasp the thin leather watch around his wrist. “Wow, I totally forgot—I guess you should probably take yours back, too, here—”

But before he could remove the smart watch, Achilles bent to snatch Alex’s wrist, holding his arm up tightly between them. The sharp movement triggered a rather equally sharp intake of breath from the watch-wearer, but Achilles pretended not to notice, biting back his smirk as he glanced at the steps recorded on the watch face—a higher number than he was used to seeing, that was for sure, even with all his jogs.  

“Mmm. Actually. You want to keep it? You’re probably getting more use out of it than I did.” 

“Oh no, that’s all right—”

“I’m not sure if this one’s waterproof, though… have you tried swimming with it?”

“Oh. Maybe? I don’t really remember taking it off. Sorry, was that bad?” 

“Eh.” Achilles, his fingers still splayed taught around Alex’s wrist, unclasped the watch and chucked it behind him where it fell about a foot short of the nightstand.

“Good aim.” 

“I’ll get you a newer one.” 

“Achilles, no, stop, man, you don’t have to do that—”

“Shh, no, no, just let me buy you things, what else am I good for?” 

But he said the words with a lazy smile, and after running his hand through his hair, bent to retrieve the smart watch from the floor. 

When he turned back from the nightstand, he noticed Alex watching him with a curious, wide-eyed innocence quite at odds with the subject of his stare. Mirroring the characteristic tilt of Alex’s own head, Achilles, his lips twitching as he held in a laugh, slowly knelt until he finally caught Alex’s eye. 

The man immediately flushed scarlet, shutting his slightly parted mouth with a snap as he turned quickly away from Achilles’ unclothed chest. “Ah—sorry.” 

“For what? Making me feel good about myself?” Achilles chuckled, straightening back to full height. “Although you’ve watched me swim a million times, you should know there’s nothing nearly as impressive to look at as what you see in the mirror every damn day—”

“Stop that.” Alex aimed a light kick before jumping up from the chair and joining him by the nightstand. “I think you’re perfect, you know.” 

“Aw, Alexander, aren’t you just the swe—”

“Just physically, of course. There’s still some work to do up here.” He tapped Achilles’ forehead. 

“All right, bitch—” 

But he silenced Achilles with a hand to his chest—except that wasn’t quite it, was it?

Fuck. 

He could feel his body heat—or maybe it was his own body that was suddenly beginning to blaze. From anticipation? From impatience? For Alex’s actual hand was hovering just barely a centimeter above his skin. 

Dammit, just touch me, Alex. 

But before he could speak, Alex, his voice wavering slightly, murmured, “Can I?”

Always so damn polite. 

“Yes.” 

He wasn’t exactly sure what he had expected, but it definitely wasn’t for Alex to reach first for his hand, tracing each of Achilles’ fingers, the lines of his palm, slowly, as if savoring each divot and crease. It was, if he was honest, a little strange, but he said nothing, only breathed, ragged and rough, as Alex’s own fingers traveled up to his wrist, up his forearm, to his bicep where they lightly circled the band tattooed on his skin. 

Achilles closed his eyes. Relished the callused touch upon his collarbone that burned even with the lightest brush. Gentle. Everything so gentle. 

One hand slipped to his lower back, and Alex’s touch on his bare skin sent a quiver through his body—he felt Alex pull him closer, felt him rest his forehead against his own. His breath was warm, but smelled faintly of peppermint. 

Alex’s thumb parted his lips with a tenderness Achilles had never before allowed himself. 

“Can I try again?” The whisper tickled his ear and a velvet thrill itched his heart. “I promise it’ll be better this time.” 

Achilles nodded. 

And yet, despite it being his own ask, Alex’s hesitance seemed to have returned. A delicate, trembling sigh seemed to be serving as the entr’acte before this second at, and so it was Achilles this time who closed the gap. 

Perhaps he should’ve been gentle, perhaps he should’ve been polite, but he wanted it and he had wanted it and Alex was here, asking for it— 

Utterly helpless, a moth to Alex’s flame. Yet it was Achilles who pulled him in with the hunger of a dying fire and kissed him as if he were oxygen, like he was fuel. Electricity sparked through every vein as his hands raked through still-damp hair, along his neck, his shoulders, muscles taut and tight and touching him back—it was rash and reckless, and surely it was right—

But something nagging at the back of his mind managed to pierce through his desperate desire, and, not without difficulty, Achilles pulled himself away. To give himself a second to better regain control of himself, to give Alex a second to better decide—

Are you sure you want this, too? 

He slowed his breathing, let his hands drop from Alex’s hips. Prepared for the worst. 

Was I too fast? Too rough? Too much? 

For the first time, he found himself unable to meet Alex’s emerald gaze—that precise shade of green had, at some point, become synonymous for safety, so why was he suddenly so afraid? 

He could feel Alex watching him, though his own eyes he kept glued to the ground. Achilles had never felt so scrutinized. So small. 

Then, a hand on his neck. A finger resting below his ear, a thumb along his jaw. And Achilles was brought back to Spirit’s Eve. The first time Alex had kissed him. Had all been a character for Alex back then, a costume. How far had they come… 

Alex slowly lifted his chin and asked in a voice, soft and tentative, “Is… is that what you like?” 

“I—what? Yes, wh—Alex, what do you like—”

But Alex cut him off—seized him, kissed him, frenetic and greedy and deep and hard, and Achilles was set aglow. He pushed Alex towards the bed. Shoved him—not unkindly—down atop the duvet, straddled him and lifted his face up to better meet his own. His hands tugged at Alex’s shirt—god, just get that off—he wanted to feel him, more of him, all of him, he was burning, and wanting, and he very nearly got his wish—shirt halfway off, one hand clinging to the bare hollow of his back—until he was shoved unceremoniously off Alex’s lap and onto the floor. 

“What the fuck—”

“Shit—sorry—I’m sorry, I—fuck—” 

Achilles—ricocheting between irked and concerned—stumbled to his feet, cheeks red, and managed to spit out only one word whilst retrieving the pieces of his pride. “What?” 

He took a pause before following Alex’s avoidant gaze down to his lap, where Alex’s hands lay stiffly between his legs. 

“Oh.” Achilles wiped some imaginary dust off his hands as he pushed aside any lingering embarrassment. “Don’t apologize. You know, I, in fact, actually have a penis, too. I get it, it happens.” Wow! Great job not being awkward! Fucking idiot. But upon seeing Alex’s continued discomfort, he added in a less lighthearted tone, “I meant what I said earlier, Al, we don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” 

“Can—actually, can we talk?” 

“Of course. That’s why I invited you over, right? To talk. It was you who seduced me, you wench. Here.” He pinched his nose—can’t you sound normal just once in your life—and tossed Alex an extra pillow after pulling back the sheets. “We can… put that between us if you’d like, just… give me a second…” 

Achilles usually slept in just a pair of boxers, but after this most recent turn of events, he thought it best to head to the closet for a t shirt. His instincts were validated upon his return—Alex had indeed set the pillow in the middle of the bed, and was now clutching it like a life line. 

He paused, one hand on the corner of the covers. “I— I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I can actually sleep on the couch if you’d like. I’m sorry, I should’ve—”

“No. No, no, no, that’s not it at all, no, it’s, um. It’s something else. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry. It’s… well, it’s me. I’m the problem.” 

“Now don’t say that…” Achilles slipped slowly beneath the duvet, taking care not to accidentally touch as he gave both Alex and the pillow quite a wide berth. He lay on his back, as he usually did, hands folded across his chest. “Talk to me, Al. Floor is yours.”

He had left his bedside lamp on—it was a rather dim glow, usually reserved for late night reading or the crossword if he was having particularly bad sleep troubles, but he could still make out Alex’s furrowed brow from atop the pillow between them. 

“I… um…” A small sigh. Achilles watched Alex rub his face before turning to face the ceiling, one hand still kneading his forehead. “I, um, well… I don’t think—no. I, um…” 

“Do you want me to turn the light off? Will that help?”  

“No, it’s fine. Leave it on, I… I want to see you.”

“Man, you’re not even looking at me.” 

Alex clicked his tongue and continued to stare at the ceiling, but Achilles caught the corners of his mouth turn up just the slightest bit. “Okay, okay, you got me there…”

“Mmhm.” 

“It’s just that… Well. I just…”

This was a mistake. He doesn’t like you like that. He doesn’t want you. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” 

Oh. 

Achilles waited for further explanation, but Alex seemed somewhat disinclined to say more, (though in the subsequent silence, Achilles could hear the slight scrape of what was likely aggressive teeth gnashing). After waiting a respectable two minutes for an elaboration, Achilles took it upon himself to lightly prod. “Is it because… you’re… bisexual—” 

“I don’t think I’m bi.” 

“Oh.” Oh. Achilles had masked his surprise quickly, but even so, perhaps it was a good thing Alex wasn’t looking at him. No need to make the guy even more self conscious. “Well. Allow me to be the first person to say there’s nothing wrong with being gay either, if that’s what it is—” 

“That’s not it, I don’t— well. No, I wanted to—You see, what happened was—I- I don’t… I…” 

Alex’s eyes were now full on closed, his hand rather zealously rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ve had sex before. To be clear. Like a lot of sex. Oh god, why’d I say it like that.” 

“Ah.” Achilles couldn’t help but wince. “It… it would’ve been all right if you hadn’t… to be clear.” 

“I mean, not with a guy.” 

He responded smoothly. “Sure. I assumed.” 

Another sigh, though this one had the hint of a growl as Alex’s exasperation continued to balloon. “Shit. Shoot. This is—well this is obviously not going how I wanted it to— I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying, I just. I’m nervous. About what you’re going to say, and think, and… I just…” 

Fuck, Achilles just wanted to hold him—but the situation was nebulous, and so he instead held his own hands, still resting across his chest, tighter, and kept his voice even. “It’s just me, Al. Like you said earlier, we’re still friends. You can tell me whatever, I’m not going to judge.” 

“But you might.” 

“I won’t.” 

“But you might.” 

“Alexander—” 

“I just—Well. I’ve never been in love before.” 

Finally, Alex turned to face Achilles. He lay on his side, his arms still fiercely wrapped around the pillow, and his face remained troubled—brows knitted, his lower lip drawn between his teeth.

“I was, um, 12, 13 when I moved here. Showed up to middle school smack dab in the middle of term. I was the new kid with a dying mom. Made me interesting, I think. Everyone wanted to be my friend. You know how it is…

“What caught me off guard though, was how many girls wanted to be my friend. Or, I guess, more than my friend, but it was middle school so I mean, how real could a relationship actually be, right…”

It wasn’t hard to imagine a 12 year old Alex—chubbier cheeks, probably, but the same freckles, the same large green eyes and sunny disposition—combine that with a tragic backstory and New Kid Novelty, and it was easy to see why the girls at Meridian Middle School had flocked to him. 

“It was… weird. I didn’t like it. I didn’t understand what they wanted from me… or why.

“And I pretty quickly realized, well, everyone was either girl crazy or boy crazy or both. Not just girls. My guy friends, too. Man, that’s all folks spent lunch yapping on about, who had a crush on who and whatever. I just didn’t get it—man, I just wanted to talk about grid ball. I don’t know, it was like that part of puberty just… never hit me, I guess…

“But after awhile, I think I just kind of assumed that everyone felt the way I did, but you just…weren’t supposed to talk about it. 

“Like I somehow logic-ed it out in my head that your girlfriend was just your best friend who happened to be a girl. And going on dates and stuff, that was just part of having a girlfriend. Like how when you’re a kid you have play dates, when you have a girlfriend you have, well, just… dates. I mean didn’t you say earlier, a date’s basically just hanging out, right? Especially in middle school. It’s just all part of like this script you were supposed to follow—and I mean, it couldn’t have helped that I literally had a dating handbook from my grandpa that was giving me step by step directions, telling me specific things to do. 

“Well anyway… I kept feeling this way, even into high school. People stopped being so boy crazy and girl crazy and whatever then, and I stopped feeling so paranoid, stopped overthinking it.

“And then I dated Haley for two years. Everyone kept telling me to ask her out, so I figured I would. If everyone was saying we’d be perfect together, they must be right, right? She was my first serious relationship. 

“And dating her actually made me feel—well, better. Validated? Is validated the right word? I liked hanging out with her, she was already my best friend, but, I don’t know, she never seemed that into me in any sort of fancy romantic way, she never really wanted to make out or hook up or anything all that often, and I thought, okay so maybe all that stuff really is all just an act, just stuff for movies, maybe I was right all along.

“Of course, that all came crashing down after she told me she was gay. She kept going on about ‘attraction’ and how it wasn’t a me problem, that she didn’t feel that way about any guys at all, that it was girls she liked, and I remember just nodding along because, honestly, I was just confused. 

“I mean, what even is attraction? I’d never thought about that much, not until she was going on and on about it. But when she was describing it, I realized that there was… something else that I was supposed to be feeling. Something I was missing. But it’s hard, you know, like how do you know what it is you’re missing if you’ve never been able to feel it in the first place? 

“You know, side note, funnily enough, after she came out, I actually had a second there where I wondered if maybe I was gay, too. Haley had never had a crush on a guy, I’d never felt that way about a girl—whatever “that way” was supposed to be feel. But I thought about it for a bit and ended up deciding I’d never felt that way about a guy either. And I’d been around a whole lotta guys. Sports camp, swim team… nothing.

“So I figured, well, I went back to square one. Maybe this is just how everyone feels. Maybe I just hadn’t met the right girl, maybe I should just give it some time. Maybe I needed to loosen up. So I just kept going through the motions. Doing what I thought everyone my age was doing.

“I was just so caught up with trying to find or feel or whatever, trying to prove that I was normal. So even though I had a bunch of solid excuses to not care about it all—swimming. Making the Artemics team. My grandparents getting sick—I think a part of me was…. I don’t know. Desperate. To find that feeling that I’d been missing, find that person. So I just kept… you know. Going out on dates. And… other stuff. Just nonstop.” 

Alex seemed to be approaching the crux of his story now. He sucked in a deep breath between his teeth before turning away again while his hands abandoned the pillow to rest atop his own chest, fingers softly tapping between his rib cage. 

“I thought sex was like… you know. Just something you were supposed to do. Like… shaking someone’s hand when you meet them for the first time or… saying thank you when someone opens the door for you. Like it’s just expected you do it. Hold a girl’s hand. Kiss her. Have… sex with her. I didn’t realize people actually wanted… like really wanted to… do these things. Beyond it making the other person happy. Like, I didn’t realize people actually had the… urge to do it. If that makes any sense. 

“Like I remember in college, one of my friends, his girlfriend kept cheating on him and I just couldn’t understand why, you know? Like why was it so hard for her not to cheat? Like, what could you possibly be feeling that made you do that, like, what was the reason, why would you sabotage something so easily in your control? And for my friend—why was it so hard, just break up with her already. Like, why stay with someone who… isn’t treating you good?” 

There was a small pause, but rather than dwell on darker memories, Alex continued steadily on. 

“I know there’s probably more to it, but I guess I just didn’t understand that kind of love. That feeling of… being in love with someone. I had never felt it before. That is…” 

Achilles felt Alex stir under the covers, felt him shift his weight as he turned onto his side, peaked his head back above the pillow like a turtle to look at him, a small smile now on his face.“That is, until last week. With you.

“You’re the first person, Ash. And I don’t know why, I don’t know why it’s you—don’t get me wrong, I’m… I’m glad it is.” He laughed, and to Achilles’ surprise, he reached across the pillow for his hand. 

“And I see why now it took me so long to even realize there was something wrong with me, that I was missing something, because how could anyone have ever really described to me what this feels like? Attraction. Even now, feeling it now, it’s just… wow. It’s like friends. Like best friend, I don’t know. But… different. And I like it.” 

Alex’s tiny sigh of satisfaction sent Achilles heart beating faster, but the rate at which Alex’s remaining hand was tapping against his chest began to quicken as well, and his tone grew more serious. 

“But if I’m honest, I… Well. I still feel like a part of me is missing something. In regards to, well… well, just… sex. Like… wanting to have sex. 

“I don’t understand why, because I really really like you, I do, and I… well I really liked kissing you. And stuff. And I… well… well normally I spend the time trying not to think about how gross the whole concept of making out with someone kind of is, but for the first time in my life ever, I… I want to do it. Like want to do it. Again. I mean of course, only if you, I don’t know… ever want to do it with me again… Shit. I sound 12, don’t I? Yoba, listen to me, we’ve had one date, you might never want to see me again.” 

A rather sheepish smile—Alex ran his free hand through his hair. 

“I don’t get it, I don’t get why it feels different, you’d think it’d be the same thing, wanting to be close to someone, wanting to kiss someone, wanting to have sex with them, I don’t know. Wow, I don’t think I’ve said sex as many times in my life as I have just now. What a weird word. Ok, sorry, anyway, I don’t know why I feel one but not the other now. I don’t get it, there’s just… something wrong with me, I don’t know. 

“I know this probably doesn’t make much sense, because I’ve hooked up with lots of people before that that I didn’t feel anything for, but I just… because I like you, and because I… do want to be with you, I want to… I don’t know, I want to… want it with you. Like, I want it to feel better, more, I don’t know, purposeful, than all the other times. 

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that having sex was, like, traumatic or anything in the past—no one forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do—I mean, I never wanted to do it, but only in the sense that I never had, like, the urge to do it. I wanted to want it, but every time I did it, it just felt like… I don’t know. A chore. Yeah. It felt like a chore, and honestly, according to a lot of the girls I dated, I was pretty dang bad at it —for reasons that, you know, now make a lot more sense—until I learned how to, you know— actually, we don’t have to get into that—um, well—anyway, back to what I was saying—

“And, I don’t know, I’d stopped hooking up with people by the time I left school. Given up, I guess, just figured there was something wrong with me. And just thinking about sex in general now makes me kind of…anxious. And I don’t want it to feel like that with you, I don’t want to… bring that in there, if that makes sense. I want this to feel… different. 

“Shit, wow, I guess all of this to say… super long story just to ask I guess… to just… I guess what I’m asking is if we can… can we take it slow? Is that stupid to ask? Is that, like, super lame? At 25 years old? Or I guess 28 in your case… geez…”

It took a second before Achilles, still digesting everything Alex had shared, realized he’d been asked a question. It was those green eyes—blinking wide-eyed rather expectantly—that jolted him back to the present, and with a small jump, he rushed to respond with something more akin to a squeal, “Not at all!” But worried that his hasty and high-pitched response (ugh) suggested a sentiment something more to the contrary, Achilles hurried to grip Alex’s hand tighter and said more firmly, “We’ll go as slow as you want. Slow as you need.” 

The reassurance seemingly failed to land, as Alex turned slightly away. “I… I know sex is… important to a lot of people, and it’s stupid to ask you to wait, it’s not like there’s a good reason—”

“—Al, any reason is a good reason—”

“—and I don’t want you to wait if you don’t want to, I mean like, if you’re someone who likes sex and, well, wants it…” Alex trailed off, but watched Achilles intently as the latter reached slowly over the pillow to brush aside some of the hair that had fallen into his face. 

“I mean, I won’t lie, Al. Like, I like having sex.” Achilles snorted, moving his hand down, tracing the line of Alex’s jaw. So smooth… the man shaved religiously, a holdover habit now unlikely to be broken anytime soon with his return to the competitive swimming world. “But I like you more. I think.”

Alex laughed, placing his hand now over Achilles’ to cup his own face. 

“No, but in all seriousness, it’s fine. Thank you for telling me this.” 

“But are you really sure? You’re fine with waiting? I… I don’t know how long it’ll be. I wish I could give you a timeline, I mean I wish I could say for sure it’ll actually even happen, to be honest, I don’t even know, but then I again I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love, but I see now these are different, and I don’t want to overpromise something that may not ever actually—” 

“Al, seriously. It’s fine. I’ll wait forever as long as I’m waiting with you.” 

This time, Alex’s smile reached his eyes, igniting that glimmer of mischief. He gave Achilles’ hand a firm, final smack before turning onto his back once again. “Well… forever’s an awfully long time, I think at a certain point I’d just… well, you know.” He made a circle with his left thumb and pointer finger and began to slowly move his right index finger towards it before Achilles whacked his shoulder. 

“Boy, I swear to Yoba—”

But Alex cut him off with a surprise kiss on the cheek. There was a careless sweetness to it, and despite the comparative innocence of the gesture, Achilles immediately bloomed pink—but as Alex returned to lying down, letting himself collapse atop the pillow, there was one final furrow still striking his brow. 

“I just… are you… disappointed? Achilles?” 

“What?” 

“I know, I know, you said it’s fine, but I just… I just want to… I don’t know. Are you disappointed? In me? You’ll tell the truth, won’t you?” 

Achilles understood. The need to hear a specific set of words—the hunger for honesty alongside the anxious ache for approval. He kept it simple. “I’m not disappointed in you. And you could never disappoint me.” 

It was remarkable, the speed at which those words transformed him; like night and day, Alex was now beaming like a sunrise. With a jaunty little wriggle, he pulled the covers up to his chin. “Okay. I’ll stop being sad now. I’ve ruined your sleep schedule enough and you’ve got a big day tomorrow.” 

“Elliott’s got a big day tomorrow, I’ve got like, a medium day.” But even so, Achilles leaned over the nightstand to flick off the lamp. 

“Medium shmedium… good night, Ash.” 

The pillow still rested between them, but Achilles didn’t mind. He knew Alex was there, and he knew now for sure Alex wanted him. 

He wasn’t sure how long he spent replaying the evening in his head—perhaps Alex had already fallen asleep, it was, admittedly quite a lot to digest—but nevertheless, at some point Achilles found himself suddenly speaking into the darkness.  

“It’s a thing, you know. Asexuality. Aromanticism. There’s a spectrum for both, but it’s all…  valid. It’s all… real, for lack of a better word, what you’ve felt and not felt in the past. There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

[bruisingknees]

Knokke Off ep 1 ENG transcript

Episode 1: Welcome to Knokke, bitch!

Eleonore: Alex? Alex! Alex? Alex? Hey, Alex! Hey, dear. I’m here. Alex, come on! Did you take something?!

Alex: I didn’t take anything, no.

E: Then why did I have to come here straight away?

A: They know.

E: What do they know?

?: Alex?! Alex?!

KNOKKE OFF

[A couple of weeks earlier]

A: Stay.

Earphones: Take some time for a meditative run. In a place where you can run in peace, and where you can run back and forth at least a couple of meters. On a meditative run you will focus on the act of running itself, not on where you’re running to. It’s about being present for every step, for every breath. You’ll focus on every step of your foot, your left, and back to your right. You will notice your breathing. If there are other objects or impressions that come into your field of consciousness […]

Melissa [Dutch accent]: Oh, sure, grandpa. What are you doing?! Are you just going to…

Earphones: […] you don’t have to pay them any special mind.

M: I’m not going to wait for you, grandpa! You should’ve thought about this before!

Daan [Dutch accent]: What was that?

M: A way too expensive car.

Earphones: You can just continue running. And to end this exercise, come to a stop.

Louise’s sister: Dad, left or right?

[Louise’s mom speaking French]

Louise’s dad: But you already have a dress?

Sister: I want another one. And?

Louise: 18,5 in one hour and twenty minutes.

Sister: Great job.

Mom [in French]: You don’t understand! My daughter… [in Dutch:] Can you grab a quick shower, baby? [In French] My daughter, the bride, will be the only one dressed in white. Right, and the guests will all be dressed in different colors. Okay, there we go, that’s right. Okay. So…

Dad: Bye.

L: See you tonight.

Mom [in French]: No, no.

Mom: Your pills.

L: Yeah.

Mom: Don’t forget them, okay?

L: I won’t.

Camping lady [Dutch accent]: Thank you, m’am. That’ll be 720 € please.

M: One hundred, two hundred, three hundred, four, five, six… Daan, do you have 120 € for your mom?

D: No.

M: I just have to grab some from the car.

Camping lady: Okay. Come here a sec, boy. I’m only telling you this once. At the first sign of any problems, I’m throwing you out.

D: M’am, I don’t want to be on this fucking campground at all. So don’t worry about it.

M: And 120.

Camping lady: Okay, thank you. Well, Mrs. Van Lieshout, then I’ll just wish you a pleasant stay here at Cadzand-Bad.*

M: I’m sure we’ll enjoy it. Thank you.

D: Mrs. Van Lieshout?

M: Yeah. What a weird bitch, right?

 E: Of course we’ll be coming over later.

Christine [Dutch accent]: Great. Margaux is just labeling the Fontana. Patrick is still interested, right?

E: Yes. 99 % sure. He just wants to see it in real life.

C: Of course. See you later. Bye, bye, babe.

E: Good morning.

A: Good morning.

E: Olivia? Hello?!

Olivia: Weren’t you going to the hairdresser?

E: What was that?

O: Weren’t you going to the hairdresser?

E: Oh, yeah, but all of a sudden I didn’t feel like it anymore. I went to the bakery.

O: Did you bring cupcakes?

E: Yes. And mini pastries. Where’s daddy?

O: I don’t know.

E: Where’s dad? And nanny Isabelle?

A: Yeah, I obviously don’t know.

E: Patrick?! Pa- Yeah, come on. I know she’s in here!

Patrick: What?

E: Isabelle? Come here a sec, come. I know you’re in here. Isabelle? Isabelle? Isabelle?!

A: Mom, she’s here.

Isabelle: M’am?

E: I’ve had it up to here with you, Isabelle. I would really like for you to pack your stuff.

I: I’m sorry, but what did I…?

E: Didn’t you hear me, or what?

A: Please.

E: Alex. I never want to see you again.

I: But, m’am… Sir, please.

P: You heard my wife.

 M: So, what do you think?

D: It’s…

M: Super nice, right?

D: Yeah.

M: Look, a little grill. Look. The bathroom’s pretty big! It’s kind of a nice shower! Oh, this room is even bigger! This is super relaxed! Look at this, a mirror, a little desk. You can sit here with your photography thing and stuff. Hey, Daan. Are you out of money?

D: No, no. It’s just that someone still owes me 300 €.

 A: Mom. Listen…

E: I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t.

 D: Okay, mom, I’m leaving.

M: Good luck! Do you have everything? Your phone?

D: Yeah.

M: Yeah?

D: Yeah. Bye, mom.

M: Bye.

 D: Hey, can I ask you a question?

Waitress: Wait a minute.

A: I’m telling you, Matti, could be better!

Matti: I get it, but I’m just telling you there’s a lot involved with this. It’s not just opening some bar. You need a whole concept. You have to think about it!

A: You don’t necessarily need to come up with something new? You could just take the Casino Club and copy that. Just make it better, fancier, more expensive…

M: Fancier and more expensive than the Casino Club?!

A: And just make it fucking hot, man, you know? Designer sex, right?  

M: Designer sex…

A: What about the title: Crazy Lulu?

?: Crazy Loulou? Sorry, ‘Lex, no.

Margeaux: Loulou? Isn’t that that cheap perfume?

A: Not like the fucking perfume, you write it with two u’s, but you pronounce it…

?: Lulu?

A: Not lulu. You write it with the u’s but you pronounce it like oo. Lulu.

?: Exactly, Lulu.

M: Lulu.

?: Lulu.

M: Aren’t those cookies?

A: Matti, for real, if you don’t have anything to contribute to the conversation, just keep it shut.

M: No, but seriously. Those bears and letters. In this big bag? We have those at home.

L: Lulu? Isn’t that a play?

A: Ah. There we go. A play. About a lesbian high-end whore during the Jack the Ripper era.

L: That’s a little simplified.

A: Matti has to be able to follow as well, you know, baby?

M: And who are you, our great play lover?

Waitress: Follow me.

A: Don’t stare like that.

L: What?

A: Hey.

L: What?

 Waitress: Jacques? The student.

D: Hey, good morning.

Jacques: About time, don’t you think? Are you scared they’re going to steal it?

D: No, I just forgot my bike lock.

J: Follow me. Hospitality experience: none. Seventeen?

D: Sorry.

J: Name.

D: Daan.

J: Last name.

D: Paroty.

J: What?

D: Paroty.

J: Buroni. Buroni… Surinamese?**

D: Half. Racist?

J: Half. Here, you can fill out the rest at home, and then you can start earning some money. I’ll go grab your uniform.

D: Uniform?

 M: I just don’t think anyone’s waiting for a titty bar here in Knokke.

A: Please! It’s not a titty bar, dude!

M: But that’s what it comes down to!

A: No! You don’t know jack shit about doing business, do you?

M: More than you’d think.

A: Aren’t they teaching you this at that Business school? Aside from playing some American football and rugby.

M: Oh! Hockey, not rugby!

A: Sorry.

?: Nice, nice. Yummy.

J: Okay, on top of your head. And now you yell.

D: Boules de Berlin.

J: Louder, Daan. People won’t hear at that volume.

D: Boules de Berlin!

A: Do you still think he’s interesting now?

D: Boules de Berlin!

J: Louder!

L: He’s working for his money.

D: Fresh balls. Boules de Berlin.

J: Fresh balls!

D: Boules de Berlin!

J: Boules de Berlin!

M: Where did they find this clown? He’s new.

?: I wouldn’t mind a taste of his balls.

?: I get it.

J: And we’re off. There you go.

?: Good afternoon.

D: Hey.

Mar: Oh… that’s not for me… These Boules.

?: I’ve never tried them.

Mar: My clothes will be drenched in cream.

D: How many do you want?

A: What’s your name?

D: Daan.

A: You don’t really look like a Daan.

D: I get that a lot.

A: Your box is in a dangerous spot, buddy.

D: No, it’s okay, man. There you go.

Mar: Come on, that’s sad.

A: Sorry.

?: Come on.

A: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.

D: It’s okay. It’s okay. Here you go.

A: Do you want one as well…? Oh, I just wanted to ask… I mean. Sorry, I thought… Sorry. I told him, that wasn’t a good spot for the box. [Imitating a Dutch accent:] “No, man, it’s totally fine!”

?: And that on his fist day. What’s Jacques going to say about that?

?: Hey! Hey, what the fuck?!

?: Are you crazy?!

D: No, it’s fine.

?: We got that [on film].

?: What the fuck, dude?

?: Alex, are you okay?

?: Are you okay?

A: I’m okay, I’m okay.

M: Did you lose it [his tooth]?

?: Did you get that [on film]?

J: Hey, what’s going on here?

A: Daan dropped his box of balls, man.

J: On your face?! Come, you, follow me. Come on.

?: Are we going to continue working?

J: Everything is okay, people. Accidents happen.

A: Is he still there?

L: I’m going to the bathroom.

 Boy: Mommy! Mommy!

Man: Move back.

 D: Hey, Jacques. You’re not going to fire the kid, right?

J: Too late, Alex. Already did.

D: You’re not a racist, right, Jacques?

J: What do you think?

D: It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what people are going to think, buddy.

J: That’s up to the people.

 D: Fucking Knokke, fuck.

Anouk: Good vacation?

D: Knokke. Arrogant, rich assholes.

A: You’ll see more of those here. Anouk.

D: Daan.

A: Daan. And what else? So I can give you a follow. Us tokkies*** have to band together.

D: Paroty. Is that a thing? Brown tokkies?

A: Yeah. They’re the worst, right?

D: True.

A: Are you okay?

D: Sorry, I was just looking at your… shirt. Casino Club. What’s that?

A: It’s a night club in Knokke. Full of rich, arrogant assholes.

D: Fun.

A: It pays well.

D: I can tell. Nice iPhone.

A: Want to buy it from me?

D: If I wanted an iPhone I’d steal one myself.

A: Daan. Do you develop your photos yourself?

D: No, no. I bring them to the store.

A: I’d love to see them. Especially the ones of me. From this afternoon, in the sun. I have to get going, Daan. You can keep that.

M: Hey.

D: Hey.

M: Oh! Wait. Before I forget… [Spanish] Un, dos, tres.

D: How did you get this?!

M: Stole an electric bike.

D: Sure.

M: I borrowed it from an old friend.

D: Since when do you have friends?

M: I was young once. I have friends too.

D: Really?

M: Daan, how was work? Daan?

D: Like this.

M: Will you be sleeping there?

D: Yeah.

M: On that one?

D: Okay?

M: Yes, okay. Yes. Uhm, how was work?

D: Yes, uhm, good. Nice boss.

M: Okay. Bye.

D: Good luck.

?: Oh, look here!

?: Hey. How are you?

Grandma: Hi baby.

E: Hi, mom.

 M: I’ve told you once and I’ll keep telling you. I just think Crazy Lulu is a ridiculous name. It’s just a ridiculous name.

A: Are you drinking two glasses?

M: I’m thirsty, aren’t I?

A: Just make sure you’re not throwing up on my shoes later, buddy. I still remember last time. I haven’t forgotten! There’s still chunks on my shoes!

Mar: I was wearing sandals and it also got –

Louise’s mom: Hey, I heard your nanny quit?

E: Yeah, can you believe that?!

Mom: Yeah, Olivia told me.

E: From one day to the next she just left, without saying a word. Really.

Mom: Yeah?

E: Anyway, I shouldn’t say anything cause she’s going to study to be a nurse, so.

Mom: But come on, so selfish!

L: Your dad’s here.

P: Hey, Daniel. I’ll be with you in a moment.

E: There he is.

P: Don’t forget.

Mom: Hey, hello, Patrick.

C: Patrick, so nice of you to come!

P: Hey. Show me!

C: Yes.

?: Will it take long before…

A: Hey. Your mom is selling my dad that Fontana?

Mar: Uhu.

M: Fontana?

L: Together with Max Baumann he was one of the most important minimalists.

A: The white canvas with the rips.

M: That’s it? Those three rips?

Mar: That’s why it’s a minimalist.

M: It’s definitely the smalles piece here.

P: It’s beautiful. Really.

E: Yeah, it’s is.

M: And how much are they asking for it?

Mar: Mom is asking 1.7 million.

M: 1.7 million? For three rips?

L: I’d spend it better.

M: You’d open a titty bar, wouldn’t you, Alex? Crazy Lulu. Or have you found a better name yet?

P: Can we get down to the business side of things? Before we’re too drunk.

C: Follow me.

Mar: I think they’ve sealed the deal.

M: 1.7 million. I’d know what to do with that kind of money. Right, Victor? I’d buy a nice yacht in Saint-Tropez.

A: I’m gonna take a leak.

[Anouk: now you can look your fill]

C: Well, the Fontana is officially yours!

C: The guests are waiting.

P: Let the guests wait.

C: Oh, yes!

E: Where is he? It’s her last number. I’m going to have a look.

 E: It’s Olivia’s last song. Where’s dad? Hm? What?

A: Mom.

E: What?

C: Well, congratulations!

E: It’s Olivia’s last song! She’s almost done.

P: This had to be signed, right?

E: Great.

Louise’s mom: Did it go through?

E: Yeah, it’s done.

P: Beautiful, little olive. Amazing, honey. Come on, take a bow.

E: Bravo!

C: So talented.

E: She’s amazing.

C: I’d enter her in the Queen Elisabeth competition.****

E: She’s better than her teacher. I mean, he tells us that himself. Chopin, Debussy… Much better.

C: I’m going to…

Louise’ mom: Great atmosphere, Christine! Truly! I won’t be stay for too long. Honey, tomorrow?

E: Yes, 10 at Natan’s.

Louise’ mom: For Emilie’s wedding.

P: You think I could pop by soon?

Louise’ dad: For a shot?

P: It’s been almost three months now.

Louise’ dad: Okay. Oh, you’re kidding. It’s like they can smell it. Emergency at the hospital.

P: The same old, same old?

Louise’ dad: Yeah. Okay.

P: You go ahead.

Louise’ dad: Honey, there’s an emergency case. What?

Louise’ mom: At the hospital?

Louise’ dad: Yeah. Honey, emergency.

Louise’ mom: Congratulations!

P: Thank you.

A: Did your dad leave?

L: Dad always has an emergency case if he’s not having fun somewhere. Anyway…

A: I’ve had it as well with this place, actually.

L: We did what we had to do.

D: Come on, dude, I’ve listened to enough piano.

Mar: Thank you.

D: Hey, good evening.

Security: Good evening. Do you have an invite?

D: Yes. Anouk invited me.

Security: Anouk? Doesn’t ring a bell.

D: No? Short lady, black hair, lots of tattoos?

A: Thomas!

Security: Good evening.

All: Good evening.

D: Maybe she’s inside. She’ll recognize me when she sees me.

Security: No, dude.

D: Hey. He’s with us.

Security: Have fun.

D: Thank you.

A: Welcome to Knokke, bitch.

A: Six glasses, Anouk.

?: Champagne!

L: There’s your flame.

A: I think she’s so fucking hot.

An: Hey, Daan.

D: Hey.

An: Are these those rich assholes? Okay.

A: What the fuck?! Don’t be so shy!

A: You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?

L: Who?

A: I saw you looking.

L: Who?

A: You know who.

L: You’re crazy.

A: You make me crazy.

D: Hey, mom. I’ll be out all night. I’ll be home tomorrow morning.

L: Daan!

A: Daan, come dude!

L: Alex, no.

?: Come on, join us.

Notes:

Daan and his mom Melissa are Dutch, as is Margaux’s mom Christine. (Margeaux herself didn’t have a particularly Dutch sounding accent to me.) 

* Cadzand-Bad is in The Netherlands, about 10km from Knokke (Belgium)

**  There’s a colonial history between The Netherlands and Suriname https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suriname

*** Tokkie: The epithet tokkie is used in the Netherlands as a pejorative noun for lower-class people who often are seen as likely to engage in anti-social behaviour, similar to the English chav, the Scottish ned, the South African zef and the Australian bogan.

**** The Queen Elisabeth Competition is an international competition for career-starting musicians held in Brussels. The competition is named after Queen Elisabeth of Belgium (1876–1965). It is a competition for classical violinists (from 1937 to present), pianists (1938 to present), singers (1988 to present) and cellists (2017 to present).

[signoraviolettavalery]

Nooooo, I'm here !!! Just all screwed up time wise without a proper work day. But pretty, pretty please let me see what you have 🙏🙏🙏 (I'll be super excited for anything but the book one you recently mentioned sounds very interesting)???

hi nonnie!

So I just started typing the following, which is a Malex version of Ocean's Echo, and yes, I'm basically directly taking scenes from the book and turning the into Michael and Alex scenes, don't @ me, the book itself is basically a fanfic anyway full of fanfic tropes:

[Michael’s in a towel, somewhat wet, and hot.] The man’s eyes are drawn immediately to his chest, and Michael can see his breath hitch; he darks out his tongue to lick his lip before composing himself and meeting Michael’s eyes.

Michael only grins wider.

“Can I help you?” he drawls.

“I’m Captain Alex Manes,” he introduces himself. “Can I come in?”

Michael pretends to consider it, looking him up and down in assessment. The man – Alex – is [quite attractive], something Michael would find noteworthy if this weren’t the man who’s supposed to control him for the rest of his life.

“I s’pose so,” he says finally, holding open the door. He settles on the edge of the table, still wearing nothing but a towel, and rests one of the legs on a chair, exposing his thigh.

Alex visibly swallows and very carefully keeps his eyes on Michael’s face.

“Perhaps you’d like to put something on, and then we can talk?” he says.

“Nah,” Michael says. He feels a curl of satisfaction at Alex’s discomfort. It might be a terrible idea to provoke the man who’s supposed to sync him, but if he’s going to be under this man’s control for the rest of his life, he can at least make him feel uncomfortable about it. “Unless you want to make me?” he challenges.

“Please put on your clothes, Guerin,” he says. To Michael’s surprise, there’s no write command in his voice. Perhaps he’s too weak to write him without a sync? But that wouldn’t make sense, surely they’d have found someone powerful to control someone like Michael? For whatever reason, Alex doesn’t want to abuse his power for the moment, but given his situation, Michael’s not inclined to consider it anything other than a ploy to lull him into a false sense of security. He does get up and don jeans, a shiny belt buckle, and a shirt he keeps half-unbuttoned.

“Let me hazard a guess,” Alex says once Michael’s returned. “You didn’t have a choice about ending up here.”

“Oh, I had a choice,” Michael says darkly. It had been a choice between Isobel and him, which really wasn’t a choice at all.

“I know how the military works,” Alex snaps, surprising Michael. “It’s rare for someone like you to volunteer for something like this. And even if you did commit whatever crime they say you did, taking away a person’s free will for the rest of their lives is barbaric.”

Michael stares at him. Gapes, in fact, the smirk sliding off his face like hot butter.

“And you’re telling me this why?” he asks.

“To explain why I’m not going to do it,” Alex says.

“You’re not going to – you have orders,” Michael says. “And I have – “ have to do this, he was going to add. He hates the idea, but he hates the idea of Isobel being forced to do this more.

“I’m aware,” Alex says. “My orders were very clear. They were also immoral, unconscionable, and, frankly, would be a war crime in any kind of just world. However, the military takes a rather different view, and if I object, they’ll just sync you with someone who has fewer scruples than me.”

There it is.

“So that’s your way of getting me to agree,” he says.  “Convincing me you’re the least bad choice?”

He’s been expecting something like this, so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised, doesn’t know at what point Alex’s wide, sincere, brown eyes had made Michael willing to hope, but – fuck.

“No,” Alex says. “I have no intention of syncing with you without your consent. Your full consent,” he adds, as Michael opens his mouth to retort, “un-coerced by any of the circumstances.”

Michael frowns. He reaches out, surface-reading Alex, and gets nothing but honesty. A vehement belief in the rightness of what he’s doing. Either Alex can project things he’s not thinking, or he’s telling the truth.

“What exactly are you suggesting, then?” Michael asks.

“We lie,” Alex says. “We fake it.”

Michael blinks.

“If we’re found out, we’re both fucked,” Michael says. “Why would you risk it?”

“You’re not the only one who wasn’t given a choice,” Alex says. “I find this entire situation repulsive and abhorrent on multiple levels” – Michael jerks back, the word abhorrent much too familiar to him – “but neither of us have a better choice. For better or worse, we’re stuck with each other.”

[popculturebuffet]

Watchemen Retrospective Finale: Zack Snyder's Watchmen (Comission for WeirdKev27)

Hello all you happy capes.. and welcome to my final review of 2022 and my grand finale to my look at Watchmen. I've looked at all 12 issues with a brief April Fools detour to look at the unmade Sam Hamm version, but there's still one last piece of Watchmen media I want to look at as the Clock strikes 12. Yes folks we're talking about the divisive, loyal as it could possibly be, greatly soundtracked, 2009 film Watchmen.

Filming the Unfimable

As the fact I had a full script to review should show, attempts had been made to adapt the Watchmen for decades. The Hamm script was pitched with Terry Gilliam of all people who considered the project unfilmable as a movie, and better as a mini series.

The biggest attempt was made with David Hayter, voice actor and writer, aka Metal Gear's Solid Snake, Zangetsu in Blodostained, and Captain America in Spider-Man TAS. He also was a writer on the first two x-men films, the scorpian king, and an executive producer on of all the things i've reviewed, A Christmas Horror Story> I knew NONE of this when looking him up and i'm incredibly impressed. This is one hell of a career the man's gotten. His draft really impressed executives, but attempts at paramount, rogue pictures and others stalled until eventually Warner Bros scooped up the rights.

Hayter's script had a few diffrences from the final product as Alex Tse, who'd go on to make wu tang an american story, would do some touch ups. His was set in modern day, at one point Nite Owl straight up killed Adrian, and at one point Adrian's plan ivnolved a MASSIVE SOLAR DEATH RAY

Yeah I mean I get why Christ Almighty it's the goddman watchmen gets mentioned more, it's objectively funny.. but the fact Adrian used a solar death beam at one point still should come up more. Don't get me wrong, the idea of using the power of the sun is awesome: Jonathan Hickman's run had Iron Man build a dyson sphere to potentially smash planets. But there's a difference between taking a real world floated concept and making it high concept sci fi.. and having your morally complex if ultimately evil despite his claims villain have a fucking death ray powered by the sun. The other ideas.. are also not my forte. The 80s setting and the 50s start to mystery men are integral to things, as the films eventually director agreed, and having Dan kill adrian just feels a step too far. What the film goes with is still cathartic and we'll get to it, but Adrian should live not to reap the benefits of his actions.. but to live with both the guilt of what he's done and any consequences should the truth come out.

As for who would direct this, with the recent success of 300… Warner Bros tapped Zack Snyder to direct. We'll get into Zack Snyder himself in a second, but to his credit, he was a huge fan of the graphic novel and most tweaks to Hayter's script were out of reverence to it, though he did keep that ending which again we'll get to.

The resulting film was.. divisive. Some critics loved it, some hated it and fans were split on everything from the performacnes to.. that ending. It's part of why I wanted to dive into it. See when the Younger Me saw it over a decade ago.. he dug it. He liked it a lot and thought it was a great adaptation. So I wanted to see if it held up: if it was still good a decade, a through yearlong re-read of the source material, and Zack Snyders lesser adaptations after it later. So let's answer that question shall we as I watch the Watchmen one final time.. at least for this year.

Watchmenmaker So yeah.. before we can even get into the film we have to unpack it's director. And I'm not one to take the side door, I'll come right up front and knock: Zack Snyder is a kind generous man who uses his massive fanbase to help charities, seems to really love his fans and his work, and who generally seems to be an upright guy. He's hard to hate on his own. That said while as a person I have nothing but respect for the guy, his other superhero works i've seen Man of Steel and Batman V Superman are not great films, especially the latter. If you like them great, your allowed to disagree with me but their just not the best superhero films and I for the life of me can't understand why some people are so ride or die on them.

Man of Steel is.. fine. It's a flawed film with a palette that can best be described as "Hope you like grey!", and easily the worst Jonathan Kent in the characters history, a selfish dumbass who has the sheer gall to berate his son for saving lives and who stupidly throws himself into a tornado for reasons that make entirely no sense and who clearly fucked his son up to the point he's traveling the world and the seven seas instead of living a normal life because SOMEBODY felt he never could. It's not a film I really fondly remember, but it's one I felt okay about coming out of the theater. It's alright. It's not the best take on superman, but I can see why some may like it.

Batman V Superman on the other hand.. is giant mess. I liked it a bit out of the theater, but the more i've thought abotu it the less it's become. Part of it isn't entirely his fault: it's clear DC wanted to FastTrack the justice league and shoved as many heroes in as they could. Wonder Woman, while a great part of the film, feels just kinda there, and while Ben Affleck gives it his best, his version of batman just doesn't work. It's clear Zack Snyder has the same reverence for the Dark Knight Returns as Watchmen.. but fails to get that that's not necessarily how to approach batman, nor that even THAT batman does not kill and will not.

His lex luthor is also just baffling, with it being hard for me to figure out just what he was going for. The idea of a younger luthor whose a tech bro was brilliant.. but the resulting writing has a luthor who sounds and acts like he did a literal, not figurative, mountain of cocaine before every scene, whose plans are needlessly convoluted , and who thanks to said cocaine thinks a jar of piss is a good statement. Seriously I did not realize he pissed in a jar the first time around, probably because Lex Luthor pissing in a jar and leaving that jar wired with explosives is not the kind of thing that usually makes it past first draft. There's a reason we never got Superman fighting a giant spider-man while Braniac wrestled a polar bear after all. Trying to jam Death of Superman in there without having properly built up to it doesn't remotely hep and the film that results is just an overly long, overly dour mess that is more concerned about tlaking about superman being a god for 40 minutes than actually telling a good story. It's overly long, overly self indulgent and ultimately just.. just bad. It's bad.

And look I don't begrudge Snyder himself for wanting his cut of Justice League. He only left the film due to the worst tragedy that could befall a parent, and had it cut to shit behind his back. What I begrude is the cultlike beahvior that's formed out of it. While there are likely fans of Zack Snyder's dc work who are nice, kind, and don't mind if someone has a difference of opinion and if your reading this, I value your existence, there has been a foaming, loud, asshollish horde of fans that has not shut the fuck up since getting said cut. Wanting more of something you love is fine. Right now as an Owl House Fan we're hoping desperately Disney gives us more of the series in some form and actually listens. Sometimes you have to scream to be heard.

The problem is instead of accepting the snyder cut as the cool what could've bene it is and being happy with what they got.. they gnash their teeth at ANYTHING they percive outside it. They've taken the screws to Shazam for not being as edgelord as the films they like, and lately have been just outright insufferable. They have gotten RABID since James Gunn was made one of the heads of DC and made the decision to get rid of Henry Cavill… a decision I udnerstand as the snyder verison of superman has a LOT of baggage and while Cavill did his best, I can understand James wanting to start fresh and using a new actor as a way to do that. It's an understandable decision from a guy who was given the hard task of coming in and steering a ship that has no direction in a company that's on fire thanks to David Zaslav's escalating selfish, terrible and downright baffling decisions. He did not come in guns a-blazin to gut everything: Gal Godot and The Rock are still on board, with his black adam announcment merely being that their going to hold off on using him again at first, rather than "your fired get out" as many are intepreting. And while I get it's weird to fire cavill after the stinger to black adam, it was included more because Dwayne Johnson wants to fight superman than being a coherent plan for a sequel, and I say that with all the love I can to the rock whose an awesome dude. I just don't care about seeing Black Adam fight superman. That's not who he has a connection to.

It's just been so draining. I get liking a film but I doubt Snyder wants .. any of this. He's fine. He's moved on from his superhero work. You are NEVER going to get what you wanted back> Let someone genuinely talented who will likely pull out some weird, wonderful cuts do what he wants and give him some room to do it. Zack Snyder is not a bad filmmaker but like superman. .he's not a fucking god. He doesn't want a fucking cult in his name. He just wants you to enjoy his films and support them. Just.. do that. Love his dceu work if you like but accept it's over, move on and for god's sake stop harassing people for it. I shouldn't' have to say this but it's gotten bad, and I felt it couldn't' be ignored. When Snyder fans are, no joke, going up to a tweet Gunn made trying to get support for charities and saying "DON'T CARE WANT CAVILL", I have to say.. SOMETHING, when I have the chance to speak to said fanbase. To those of you not doing this shit.. thank you. Thank you for being good people like Zack likely actually wants. Your awesome.

Now you may be asking yourself "Well how did I get here?"… or more likely "Okay nice speech and all Jake but what does this have to do with the film your actually reviewing" or

If your a tad deranged. My reason is that while I can see bit sof the DCEU in here, particularly Zack Snyder preferring to deconstruct superheroes than actually play it straight, Watchmen.. zigs a lot of places he'd later Zag. It's shockingly colorful while still being grounded, still having the gaudy outfits, but keeping them because he knows their important. The only change he made to them was to make them more like something you'd see in a superhero film of the past, to help evoke these costumes come from the past: Nite Owl and Ozymandis in particular have outfits that come out of a Burton Batman and Schumacher Batman film respectively. Laurie's is more shiny latex, and the Comedian thankfully keeps his domino mask during his full career and either wears your standard Sterling Archer spy turtleneck on missions or his costume rather than bringing out the gimp. I do think it clashes a LITTLE with the 60's and 70's these costumes are supposed to come from but I get that putting them in say, a 60's batman style outfit would be a bridge too far given the tone of the work, and that the original outfits, while neat, were also intentionally goofy in a way that just dosen't work on flim. It's why you only saw The Scarlet Witch, Vision and Quicksilvers full silver age costumes as halloween costume easter eggs in wandavision or Steve Roger's classic cap outfit as his uso outfit. These are iconic looks.. but they just don't work on screen. You can still hav ecolor and flair as the MCU has shown us, but you have to rework it to fit the present.

This way Snyder gets to both have pops of color.. while also having the costumes still get the slightly dated look in a way people who haven't read the comic will get. It's honestly a stroke of brillance and while his works aren't my forte and he slapped a palette of grey over them, his later works do have neat costumes.

His watchmen shows a respect for these characters and world his DCEU work dosen't quite have. He replicates panels, only didn't replicate the costumes beyond rorshachs for the reasons mentioned, and really tries to get as much of the story in as he can. Which brings us to

The Times they Are A Changing

The film is for the most part a fairly straight adaptation of the Graphic Novel. There's a big change to the ending I keep ominously hinting at and we're almost there just hold on, but there are changes either stylistically or just for compressions sake. It's why I tilt my head at reviews that said he was overly reverent to the graphic novel. I agree he could've used a touch more of his own take.. but Snyder still put his own spin on it and his own style. There's some bits of his trademark slowmo and some quick pans and he does brilliantly find ways to incorporate scenes into motion. The opening scene of the comic is a great example of this, as he somehow manage to pan up in the exact same way David Gibbons does while accounting for having to show EVERY frame going from the street to the Comedian's penthouse.

There are some goofy touches, for some reason he thought adding whipcrack sound effects to some fight scenes was neat, likely to parody it being used in 80's and 90's superhero films, which Watchmen takes some style cues from, but it jus tdosen't mesh when said scenes are played dead serious. This is a deconstruction, not a parody and there's a fine line between the two.

Out of his personal style touches my faviorite is easily his use of music. While there are only a handful of sequences, Snyder picked his soundtrack masterfully. It's nothing but the hits but often used in ways that help play off the scene beautifully or create just the right dissonance.

The first and best example of this is the Times They are a Changin scene. Even people who don't like the film admit this scene slaps and for good reason. It's easily one of the best openings in any superhero film ever if not THE best. In just a few minutes of montage, nicely set to one of the iconic songs of the 60's (not a huge Dylan fan myself but I can't deny this song rocks), it takes you through both ages of superheroes easily, gives you all the exposition the film couldn't thanks to Under the Hood being something they couldn't fit in easily (Maybe a tv movie or something but it would've come off obvious to me), and just looks gorgeous: it breaks down the triumphant rise and tragic fall of the minutemen, the hope of the new era of supermen and it's sad fall beautifully. The imagery just does not leave your brain and it's easily a beautiful little mini movie in it's own right. While the film is still good after this, it's easily the best part of it, kind of like how Up's intro is easily it's best part too for similar reasons but the rest is still fantastic.

That said, the next sequence with this.. is no slouch. The Vietnam flashback with ride of the valyrkyes, as Dr. Manhattan looms over the Vietcong and explodes anyone in his path, is masterful, taking an already great one panel image from the comic and IMPROVING on it. Seeing him in motion really sets in the dread of this giant, looming all powerful godlike figure coming towards you and you can do nothing to stop him and really helps set in the scope of manhattan. I also noticed when writing this section that Manhattan has a nice motif of classical music, to establish a timeless feel, using Phillip Glass' music to really set things in motion.

Dan's sequence is no slouch though, as it amazingly uses the funk classic "i'm your boogie man", and is part of why I love that song so much. It both nicely contrasts with the protest going on.. and nicely matches to Comedian horribly responding to it by violently beating up the protestors. Granted said protestors are pro police, which is especially odd given some are POC.. but I write this off as Snyder, like many of us white dumbasses, not fully grasping the history of police violence on people of color at the time. It's not great in hindsight but I can't say many knew much better and he still shows off that someone with undue power and no checks and balances, i.e. the Comedian, going into a crowd and wailing on them is as horrible as it should be seen.

Then we get a long break, just one sequence with Manhattan i'll talk a bit more about later, before we get the next one.. which stuck out in my mind for the wrong reasons and I was ready to give Zack Snyder all the shit for.. till I learned out why he did it. If you've seen the film you know and if not.. the film takes Dan and Laurie's sex scene.. and make sit into… an over the top, in tense and gratuitous as fuck sex scene.

It's just so ludicrious, so unecessary, so out of nowhere it's parody.. and that… was ex-zactly the point. Yeah turns out Zack Snyder did not ask for this scene, the crew did not ask for this scene and i'm pretty sure Dan Steven and Malin Akerman did not ask for this scene. No one wanted to do this except the executives, who demanded

So Zack pulled a Sean Micheals and decided to give it to them in the goofiest, dumbest, most over the top way possible. It's likely why EVERY movement dan makes seems to make laurie orgasm. Akerman was likely in on the joke, and I salute her for it. Like if your forced to do a gross fanservice sex scene, you might as well make it hilarious and honestly the sequence is: you've got Hallujeah blaring over it, Malin going 80 times over the top, dan stevens just .. rolling with it and the gloriously stupid finish when Laurie climaxes as she hits the flamethrower button. The Silk Spectre has a FLAMING orgasm that is seen by ongoers in the night sky. I.. I can't even add to that. I didn't know Zack Snyder could make a funny but here we are. Good on him.

The last music sequence is a classic and a pretty obvious drop… like while all the songs are pretty well known in a song called the watchmen that pulls heavily from the 70's and 60's to evoke a sense of nostalgia a lot of the characters clearly have… All Along The Watchtower was a perfect pick. It's how I first heard the song and it is fucking dynamite and setting it to Dan and Rorschach's descent into the artic.. fucking perfect.

We get two more songs in the credits. The first is an awesome cover of Desolation Row by My Chemical Romance. I loved them since hearing Danger Day and love Gerard Way's awesome comics work after MCR, so I do like the song.. but it's also a touch too modern to really fit with the film. It was clearly made because the studio wanted a soundtrack tie in.. but it's also very hard to hate because it's so awesome and the first issue's title directly references this song.

The other is We'll Take Manhattan, which I feel was likely Snyder's first choice and is a nice cheeky nod to the horrors that just happened.

Okay so now we've cued the music , let's talk about another change.. one i've been omniously hinting at all film and one where I can't help quoting a certain critic I admire's theme song

They Made Watchmen Without the Slimy Squid

Yeah out of all the changes, one bit of casting, and other various things… this is the single most divisive part of the film. See most of the plot and even the ending is the same: Nite Owl and Rorshach find out Adrian was behind it, confront him at his arctic fortress, and while him kicking their asses is mostly omitted, it's for a good reason we'll get to, and while they plan to not let him do it but..

And thus his plan goes off and while Dr. Manhattan also confronts him, ultimately our heroes are forced to back down for the sake of the world. The big diffrence is WHAT the plan was. See when the Hayter script was made .. it was intended for 2003, complete with a screen test. This was two years after 9/11 so showing what was likely minutes of bloody bodies lying in the streets of new york after an attack.. was something they really coudln't do. They coudln't drop NYC either as it's grimy 80's exterior is as much a character as our heroes. So he came up with something else that made it all the way here.

So instead of Dr. Manhattan having harnessed his power to change the world, he's just getting to it as the film is in progress and is working with Adrian, who goes from a psychic alien attack.. the much simpler plan of using his energy to simulate Dr. Manhattan attacking the world, still giving humanity a common enemy.

Now while I like the squid sequence.. I get why a change had to happen. Even in 2009 9/11 was still fresh in minds. It was likely hard enough getting just dr. manhattan exploding people through. And besides just being sensitive to a reall life tragedy by making things more fantastical… the Squid thing is convoluted as fuck. Like Adrian does lay it out… but it requires a psychic's brain, kidnapping scientists and artists, and genetically cloning it into a squid. It's a BRILLIANT scheme, as it was made to be as believable as possible, and I love it dearly.. but when your trying to streamline an already beefy narrative to fit three hours, it's a LOT to unpack and something not everyone might get and understandably so. I even missed the whole psychic part till adrian brought it up. It has that many moving pieces.

You also have to remember this was pre-guardians of the galaxy. Studios were very gunshy about weird shit and they'd already let the naked blue man hanging dong pass inspection. Zack and Hayter likely didn't want to push it too far. So changing it from the slimy squid while sad.. was necessary.

That said the replacement.. just dosen't work for me. I get using Dr. Manhattan.. but how he pulled it off just raises a LOT of questions and leaves a hell of a lot more holes that could be traced back to him than in the original verison. For one thing the project wasn't some secret project on a remote island and then the arctic but a HIGHLY public clean energy project. I'm not sure they knew manhattan was powering it, but a bunch of scinetests going mising from that suddenly.. isn't going to go away forever. I mean sure Adrian can probbaly bury it with his money, but iwth the journal, there's every chance someone might look into it. Now i'm sure Nixon and later Regan after him would likely gladly shoot anyone who questioned this for world peace.. but i'm also sure someone could leak it eventually.

In the comic.. part of why Adrian won besides assuring world peace.. is he covered his tracks emacuatley: Everyone went missing long before he killed them, he could always fake bodies if needed given his genetic engineering and the squid was so convincingly alien, no one would really THINK to investigate something else. I do get Dr. Manhattan is so throughly. .not human it's supposed to be the same principal, but i'm also not convinced someone wouldn't buy the continence of it.

Not only that is trips away the ambigiutiy of Adrian getting caught as if he does.. Jon could just show up, go ooga booga and confirm the plan. It wipes away any chance of him blowing this away. Unless Jon intentionally lets Vedit hang out to dry, which dosen't seem likely, he gets away completely. It just.. dosen't work for me. I get what they were trying to do but it just dosen't add up.

There's one other adjustment to the ending, but this one I like: LIke the comic everyone but Rorshach agrees to keep quiet but for one thing it's even clearer Dan and Laurie aren't on board with this. We also get a nice adjustment to Rorshach's death as Dan follows.. and sees it happen… crying for his death. Even if Rorshach wasn't a great perosn.. he was still his friend and didn't deserve to die like this. While I like dhis lonely death in the comics.. this still works.

The part I like the most though.. is Dan storming in afterword's and beating the shit out of Adrian. Adrian dosen't fight back and it's left ambiguous: Does he feel guilty or is he just patronizing him like a father whose child is having a tantrum. It's what Dan says though that I really love

"You haven't idealized mankind, but you've deformed it, mutilated it.. that's your legacy.. that's the real practical joke".

Just Dan, tears down his face, knowing he can't get the justice that's required.. but not being content to just.. let Adrian smugly step away. He's given humanity utopia but before marred it with it's cost and will forever carry that burden as he damn well should. It's not QUITE as satisfying as "nothing ever ends".. but it still works with Vedit left just as stunned wondering if he really won. Which nicely brings us to

Under the Hood:

While snyder brought the core of the story well enough to screen, his character work was a bit more.. mixed. Some actors soared, others fell, and some were just let down by the script

We'll start with the character both most prominently used in marketing and whose often see as the franchises mascot, Rorshach. Jackie Earle Haley's performance.. is stunning, it's absolutely perfect to screen, having a nice gruff batman-esque tone that still sounds coarser more tired, and perfectly growly. It fits his uncomoromising mindset, blunt nature and perfectly captures that Rorshach needs help more than he needs to be murdering people. Haley PERFECTLY captures the character, and while he spends most of the film under a mask, he emotes greatly. He also BEAUTIFULLY excutes one of the best scenes of a comic, Rorshach's death. His response is growly.. but when taking off the mask.. he looks utterly destroyed at first, nicely replicating the crying and the fact that despite being so resolute.. even rorshach is sad not only is he passing.. but that a horrible man has gotten away with everything and his scream of "Do it!" is just.. perfect.

Writing wise however.. it's a mixed bag. Hayley does a lot of the heavy lifting.. but a lot of Rorshach's character and backstory was cut. We see flecks of it in his psychological examination but the darkness of mere being itself.. is largely cut out of the film. Malcom Long gets nothing of an arc, a huge shame given he was the only POC character of note in the piece (something Snyder could've rectified and didn't), while the context for Rorshach's fall is mostly gone. The change to what he does to the villain works, having been switched from the saw like handcuffs for understandable reasons ot him savagely meat cleaving the guy, but the slow slide from a man with a tragic past being a vigilante to a man who badly needs a therapist but is so far gone he can't accept the help he needs. .is gone and it takes weight for the character. A lot of what makes Rorshach so neat is gone.

Also gone.. are his right wing leanings. While his opening monologue his kept his homophobia, sexism and general other unpleasantness. This is a double edge sword.. on one hand it makes him more likeable.. but on the other hand it robs the ending of some of it's punch as even if Rorschach sucks.. the fact he's throughly RIGHT hit hit harder coming from someone so often wrong and his right wing fanaticism makes it less obvious if his words will carry weight givfen his various prejudices. The character only still works so well.. because Haley does such a phenomenal job in the roll that the various sanded off edges don't come off as bad as they should. He's just so good and so perfectly cast it helps. It's still not the strongest version of Rorschach, but damn if it isn't memorable.

Less well translated is Dr. Manhattan, who I feel gets the shaft despite his sticking out. I mean at least he probablyg ot some nice resduals form his condoms

Yeah while I feel bad people often overly focus on the character hanging dong, as the whole poitn of that is that he is so far beyond human concerns he dosen't evne care he's hanging dong anymore, I can't knock dc for having a perfect tie in with that.

Look dick jokes aside Dr. Manhattan's representation is really spotty. Some moments are translated perfectly: the aforementioned ride of the valyrkye scene, his spotlight with Watchmaker which shockingly shows off his sense of time despite being portrayed in a fraction of it, and his ending return as a giant blue man.

But a good chunk of his scenes are muted. Part of this is on Billy Crudup. He tries his best.. but ultimately just HOW good he is at portraying a detached godlike being.. varies on the scene. Sometimes he sounds perfectly alien and emotionless.. and other times he sounds like he's just.. bored. The latter just dosen't really work.. I mean sure he's lived through all of this but part of the characters mistique is he's often very hard to read. He also stumbles on the time he is, still coming off emotionless during his ephinany about Laurie or , most damingly when shouting for everyone to leave. Crudup just coudln't figure out the righ totne to match the scnee sand the character dosen't come off well.

Writing wise he's mostly fine.. but the Mars bit is completely botched. Like out of all the stuff the film adapts it's easily the issue that is done the absolute worst. See in the comics it looks like this

Nice crystaline but still pink and otherworldly. Easy enough toa dapt for some reason…. Zack Snyder went with..t his

yeah not only does mars look crappier as while ti's more realistic it's also all brown and muted, taking away a lot of the planets haunting majesty from the comic, but the palace for some reason is entirely made of glass, and cgi.. and as a result it looks REALLY bad. LIke I get using CG, I do, and Manhattan himself is an amazing effect. They got him to screen beauituflly, hanging dong and all. But this is just.. I can't tell if it was just the tightly stretched budget or terrible design choices but it just looks ugly and the scene is so cut down in the theatrical cut it just drains the whole phislocpiacal argument between Manhattan and Laurie. It's just..awful and when you cut a characters best scene down to ribbons he's bound to not come off great. Manhattan looks great but just.. feels souless

So speaking of laurie, stop me if you've heard this one: They cut out most of her backstory. Yeah that's a problem with the film as a whole: I get having to streamline things but not finding some way to intergrate the backstories as well damaged most of the cast. With Laurie it's especially bad as the pressure form her mother, the strained relationship and her painful history are all either underplayed or in the latter case gone entirely. Most of what character she did have is gone.

There is a TINY bit of good as she no longer breaks out into hysterics over most thing, an unfortunate trait I noticed that I don't think Moore or Gibbons thought through for you know, one of only two major female characters in the piece, and the other.. is defined ENTIRELY by nearly being raped then having sex with her rapist so not too good on either account.

That said they replace it with

Malin Ackerman tries her best, but even she admitted that she regretted taking the role, citing it was out of her comfort zone and being the only none shakesphere experinced one in the group and the work's importance, got a bad case of imposter syndrome. I just feel bad for her and her feeling out of her depth shows in her performace. it feels stilted like she dosen't know what to do.. and it's one of the times I blame the acting on Snyder himself. Sometimes acting can be bad direction but not helping an actor whose clearly struggling and not having the good sense to give her way more to work with and an actual character.. that's on him. He had no probelm adjusting the script when needed, so laurie coming out this underbaked is inexcusable. The fact she comes off more as a sex object thanks to her outfit and sex scene without having any AGENCY in said sexuality does not help.

WE then have Dan.. and he may be the only one tha'ts a full on improvement. Patcik Wilson is perfect in the part, not only looking exactly like dan but playing him well: he comes off just a touch more confident.. but not so much he isn't still the insecure, withdrawn nerd the story needs him to be. HE's still a painfully shy man, but he not only has a closer friendship with adrian that helps give him more to do in the plot, and more reason why he's more doubtful he's behind it at first, it also makes Adrian's actions hit harder. IN the comic it wasnt' clear if Adrian was all that close to any of his collegeues. Here the betryal feels personal. He also has great chemistry with ackerman. Wilson is the mvp of the film. And like I said he dosen't just sorta.. collapse and go along with the plan at the end, but is actively spiteful about having to and leaves Adrian devistated. This is easily the better version of dan, and it's likely because unlike the others we didn't get a ton of his backstory, so we only gain more of him instead of loosing a lot.

We then have our mastermind Ozymandis and he's done.. fine. Goode dosen't look the most like him, but did put a lot of effort into the roll. Granted he also infamously told people against his casting "Suck my dick because I don't give a fuck"

But he still did his best and I support his casting: he dosen't look like the superman of the books but more gaunt.. yet he does in the past, giving the feeling the weight of his actions and what has happened has worn on him. While he puts on the cold vener of detachment he dosen't have the smug ego. It makes the character diffrent.. but not in ab ad way, coming off as someone who is doing the grim work necesary to save the world instead of a smug egotist who thinks he's the only one who can. Neither is a good person, but both versions ar eintresting. Admitely Goode slips in an out of an accent but it came from the good idea of having Adrian be german and hide his accent in public to blend in more, as well as distance himself from his nazi parents. I wish this was more texual than just something he thought of but poitns for effort

Finally for the main cast we have our boogie man himself, The COmedian. Along with Stevens and Haley, Dean Morgan not only perfectly matches the role in apperance.. but just ooze sinto it. And since we get his full backstory bit, he's one of the few not as badly marred. The only issue I have is changing his attempted rape to have him be older: him being young and still trying to do something his awful signified that he'd ALWAYS been this cynical, selfish asshat and age only made him worse. The roll was a departure for Morgan who was best known for Grey's Anatomy at the time, but nicely blended into the roll and I wouldn't be shocked if, while not having seen him in wlaking dead, this roll landed him negan as I have read the comic version and the two characters are just similar enough for it to be perfect casting. Ther'es not a lot to say about the comedian I havne't in the comics reviews, Morgan is just perfec tin the roll and desreves more love as an actor.

Finally we have the only two minute men of consequences. Stephen McHattie does a great job as hollis mason though sadly his best scene was cut out of the film, as his death was done BETTER in the extended cut, which I almost reviewed but decided for KEv's wallet and times skae not to. It shows Hollis going down swining, imagining the top knot's as his foes. IT's a great death and I wish it'd been kept in.

Carl Gugino does great as Sally and while she dosen't get many scenes, she is great and I like adding a line about Sally having not regretted her one night stand with Eddie because of wha tit gave her, making her reconcilation with her daughter feel way more plausable.

So with that we just have a few odds and end to

The Cutting Room Floor

As you can probably guess the film exercised a lot. in addition to the various backstories, under the hood and tons of other stuff, pretty much every subplot is excised; The Newspaper Man, the kid with him, Malcom Long, the Lesbians, everyone is gone. The newspaperman and malcom long are unfortunate and it's asd to see them go.. the lesbians not so much as their subplot came off untiotnally homophobic. They also removed mustache cop and you can just imagine my reactoin

Most cuts are understandable. And with that

The Clock Strikes one

So overall Watchmen is a decent film: It has visual flair, some decent aditions, and cast that mostly tries their best even when some aren't given a lot. Is it a GREAT superhero film? Honestly.. no. The cut portions mute the story a bit and Gilliam was likely right that a mini series was a better fit, not to mention there's some tarnish of the time with the executive mandated sex scene and general poor writing for laurie as well as that freaking mars cgi. It's far from a perfect film.. but I still maintain it's pretty good and I still enjoyed it. It's not the best adaptation of the work.. but it's the best it could be within the time, budget and paramenters given and it's a clear labor of love. It's clear Snyder loved watchmen and while he amde some changes, he did his best to get the spirit of it down on film. THe result is a real treat if your a fan of the graphic novel or just a superhero fan in general and if your a fan of snyders, you'll likely enjoy this even more than his justice league works. Doubly if your not a fan. So check it out, it's on HBO max and.. thanks for reading all this way. This has been a decent retrospective and one of th ebiggest and most ambitious project si've done.. But it's time to put away the doomsday clock, let it chime to one in storage.. and stop watching the watchmen. It's been a long road but now.. I rest. See you in the new year.

[ninzied]

and that's how it works

a co-worker au. based on the prompt: kiss out of spite. ~2.4k.

Alex can’t stand him from the start.

He tries not to actively dislike any co-workers, as a general rule. It takes effort, and time, neither of which he wants to spend on this guy—unless said work has been affected, which, Alex has to admit that it hasn’t.

But there’s something about him that rubs Alex the wrong way the moment they get introduced.

He’s hard-working, Alex supposes, and the quality of the work isn’t lacking. He’s punctual, and to-the-point in his emails. None of those things are an issue. He does make a habit of helping himself to Alex’s office supplies, but a few missing staples and running out of printer paper don’t exactly justify a grudge.

The guy’s personality is, objectively, annoying. He has the worst taste in ties, which to Alex says a lot, and he can’t go more than five minutes without alluding to his pedigree in some way (Alex knows this because he and Nora have made a drinking game out of it at work functions).

Still, it doesn’t explain the weird surge of resentment he gets every time he looks at the guy. And not understanding it might be the most annoying part of all.

He just wishes he knew why.

.

Alex works in the legal department, but the coffee’s way better in HR down the hall, so most mornings he’s using their break room. Most mornings, and at lunchtime too, and in the afternoons more than once until Nora starts cutting him off, which. Fair.

Apparently he’s not the only one who’s discovered HR’s superior coffee, though, because he’s always there too, and always at the same time as Alex. Seriously, can he not? It’s bad enough that they share a cubicle. Now Alex has to suffer the insult of watching him fucking microwave his coffee like some kind of sociopath, too?

“Are you following me?” Alex demands to know one morning, a little ridiculously. He’s aware that HR is not the best place to be throwing accusations around, but he’s kind of had it with this guy. “Because—”

At that exact moment, the door is opening, and Henry Fox is walking into the room.

“Oh, hey,” says Alex.

Henry glances at him the way he always does, that is to say, a little bemused as to what Alex is doing here. But Henry had been his point person when he was hired six months ago, so he must know Alex works here, right? Besides, he’s been coming to drink their coffee every day of those past six months now, and he knows Henry knows this because their breaks usually overlap and the way Henry barely says two words to him half the time is starting to feel kind of personal.

“It’s Alex,” says Alex, because, well, just in case.

“Yes, I’m aware,” says Henry. After a beat that’s long enough to get awkward, he says, “Err. Right then.”

And then he smiles and waves at Hunter, who isn’t even supposed to be here either, and walks over to take the seat Hunter has saved him like they’re all in fucking high school.

Hunter says something smarmy about a new art gallery or what-the-fuck-ever he went to last night, using a slightly too-loud voice that’s clearly meant to be overheard. Alex grits his teeth.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to go,” says Henry. “What did you think?”

Alex scowls. Fuck, he fucking hates Hunter.

.

“So how’s the transfer going?” asks Hunter one day.

Alex jerks involuntarily and splashes hot coffee all over his hand. “Motherfucker,” he says, and then, because his filter is fully shot now anyway, he glances over at Henry. “You’re transferring? Like, jobs?”

“Oh. Um. No. Departments,” says Henry. Alex supposes that’s all he’s getting—four whole words must be some kind of record—but then Henry continues. “To editing. Starting first thing next week.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Cool. That’s…a big move.” Literally. That’s, like, whole floors away. He opens the freezer door with his good hand, and wonders what the coffee tastes like up there in editing, if it would be weird to find out sometime. He grabs a fistful of ice.

“Yes,” Henry is saying. “It will be quite the change, and I—wait. Sorry.” He stands abruptly, and Alex stares in surprise as Henry comes over and stops right in front of him. “Please put the ice down.”

“Um,” says Alex. “O…kay?”

“You should use lukewarm water,” says Henry. “Cool, at best. For your hand.”

“Oh,” says Alex. “Right. Thanks.” He turns to the sink, feeling weirdly aware of the fact that Henry is still standing there. “It’s too bad,” Alex says before Henry can decide to sit down next to Hunter again. “Kind of a big loss for HR.”

Henry’s brows knit back together. “Is it?”

Alex shrugs. “To my knowledge, no one else personally escorts new employees to their cubicles on the first day of work. Like you did with Hunter here, for example.” He levels Henry with a grin. “I was there when you showed him around, in case you don’t remember.”

Henry’s expression is inscrutable. “I do,” he says.

Alex makes a point to not look away. “Guess that wasn’t a thing back when I started.”

“Ah,” says Henry. He’s flushing for some reason now. “No, I suppose not.”

Alex considers him. He can’t decide if Henry’s playing dumb, or if he really doesn’t remember that he’d been the one to help hire Alex. Then he decides he doesn’t care, because both options make him feel like something on the bottom of Hunter’s shoe, which he hates.

“Think I’m gonna head back.” Alex looks expectantly at Hunter, who only lifts his mug like he’s still planning on being a while. Fucking fine.

He can still see the two of them through the glass pane in the door when Nora walks by with a stack of folders.

“You okay?” she asks, in a tone that says she’s guessed the answer.

“Fucking no,” says Alex anyway. “What are they even doing? Talking?”

Nora sneaks a peek through the window. “Appears so,” she deadpans. “Talking in the break room. Unbelievable.”

“I know, right?” Alex scowls, then realizes he’s left without his coffee, which makes him scowl even harder.

Nora sighs, then slips her free arm through his. “Let’s walk.”

“Do you think Hunter likes him?” asks Alex. Because—not that he’s spent a lot of time on this—Alex thinks that Hunter does, and nothing is worse than the thought of Henry liking him back because he doesn’t know any better.

Maybe Alex should say something.

Nora is looking sideways at him. Alex isn’t sure why. “I think what Hunter likes is people with a pedigree,” she says. “Anyway, what’s not to like? Henry’s a snack.”

“What?” says Alex. Objectively, Henry looks a bit like an Adonis, but, “That is so beside the point. And just because Hunter’s like Harvard royalty or whatever doesn’t give him the right to come in here and trick people into liking him when—”

“When you were here first?” Nora supplies.

“What?” Now Nora is really missing the point. “This has nothing to do with me, or with Henry. I just meant, like, you know. In general.”

“Right,” says Nora. “I must have misunderstood.”

.

Alex keeps going back to the break room, of course. The coffee’s still better, and he can keep bothering Nora even though she’s transferring soon too (to marketing two floors down, the traitor). None of those things have changed just because Henry is no longer there every day.

The one thing that does change, Alex notices with a dark kind of satisfaction, is that Hunter does not go back to the break room. In fact, he starts bringing his own coffee each morning (Starbucks, which seems very on-brand). If anything, Alex only has more reason now to escape to HR and not spend any more time around Hunter than necessary.

About a week after Henry’s transfer, Alex realizes he’s used the last of the break room’s cinnamon. Again. Goddamn it, he thinks. He’s just spent the morning in back-to-back meetings, he’s getting his coffee hours later than usual, and now this?

He rifles through the cupboards for a second and then a third time just in case there's a rogue bottle somewhere. “Fuck me,” he mutters.

“What’s the occasion?” comes a voice from the door, and Alex turns to find Henry leaning against it. His arms are crossed, and he’s doing that chin-tilty thing that apparently means Alex has zero control over what comes out of his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Alex blurts.

Henry raises an eyebrow. “I could’ve been asking you the same thing for the past six months or so, but I haven’t.” He uncrosses his arms and comes over. “Would you believe me if I said I came here for the coffee?”

“No,” says Alex, with absolute certainty. “You don’t drink coffee.”

Henry blinks. “I could,” he argues after a moment, then straightens a little. “In fact, maybe I planned to start today.”

“Uh huh.” Alex gestures for him to have at the machine. “Do you even know how to use it?”

“Can’t be that difficult,” says Henry. He gives the machine a dubious look, and Alex doesn’t mean to but he starts to laugh.

“Here, I got it. Was about to make some for myself anyway.”

“Ah.” Henry looks abashed suddenly. Even the tips of his ears have turned pink. “Suppose you’ll be wanting this, then.” He pulls a ground cinnamon bottle from his pants pocket.

Alex shakes his head in disbelief. He could actually kiss Henry right now. “How did you—?”

“Well, you were running low last I was here,” says Henry, like that’s a totally normal thing to have noticed when Alex has never seen him touch the spice rack once. “Figured you'd be out by now, so I nicked some from the break room upstairs. No one’s been using it there anyway.”

The shock on Alex’s face makes him backtrack. “Sorry,” he says, flushing an even deeper pink now. “I—didn’t know you’d be here. You’re usually, um. Earlier. I can return it, if you’d like.” He says all this in a rush.

“No, it’s great,” Alex says emphatically. “Don’t you dare take it back.” He’s still staring a little, but that can’t be helped. Henry knows how he likes his coffee. And Henry had planned to restock the cinnamon without Alex ever knowing.

Henry clears his throat, looking around them. “You didn’t bring Hunter with you today,” he notes.

“No,” says Alex immediately. “God, no. And I don’t bring him anywhere, he just. Shows up. Honestly, I can’t stand the guy.” Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

“Oh, thank Christ,” Henry says, looking immensely relieved. “Now that I don’t work in HR anymore, can I just say how little I enjoy his company?”

This is way better news than when Henry had first reached out to Alex with his offer letter and starting salary. He grins. “You can. In fact, please say more.”

Henry looks rueful. “I really shouldn’t.”

“It’s just that—” Alex sobers a little. “He was the only person you seemed willing to talk to.”

“It was easier, for me.” Henry takes a breath. “I feel less shy around people whose opinion of me doesn’t matter as much.” He pauses, something meaningful in the way he looks sidelong at Alex now. “I do want to be better about it.”

Alex nods, considering this. He tries hard not to smile. Probably not hard enough. “I can work with that.”

.

“You do realize neither of you work in this department,” says Nora, pulling food from the fridge.

Henry sips the tea Alex has just made him. Coffee, turns out, had been a lost cause. They’re both leaning against the counter, elbows not-quite-touching but getting closer to it every day, by Alex’s estimation.

“Do any of us, at this point?” Henry muses.

Nora shrugs. “Fair.”

“Just don’t tell You Know Who,” says Alex.

“Who’s You Know Who?” Hunter asks from the doorway. He has a confused smile on his face as he looks from Henry to Alex back to Henry again. Normally the sight of Hunter fills Alex with the most profound irritation, but now he’s feeling kind of pleased.

That’s right, he thinks smugly at Hunter: Henry is mine.

Huh. Suddenly things make a lot more sense now.

“Hey, did you get my email about the museum opening this Friday?” Hunter asks Henry, and Alex bristles instantly. Did Hunter not get the look Alex just gave him?

“Ah,” says Henry awkwardly, and it would be endearing if he didn’t also look so deeply uncomfortable. His awkwardness now is so different from the bashful kind of awkward he used to be around Alex; honestly, Alex can’t believe he’d never been able to tell between the two until now. “Actually, I’m—”

“Going,” says Alex, “already. With me.”

Henry looks at him in happy surprise. “Really?”

“Really,” Alex says firmly. And then, because he likes how dumbstruck Hunter looks right now, and because Henry doesn’t pull away when Alex puts an arm around his shoulders and he really, really likes that too, he does the only thing left that makes sense to him, which is to lean in and kiss Henry. He kind of feels like he might die when Henry kisses him back.

Fuuuuuuck.

Henry’s eyes are still closed when Alex leans back. He’s dimly aware that Nora has shooed Hunter out and closed the door behind them. He’s more acutely aware of how Henry licks his lips, then opens his eyes with an oddly vulnerable expression and says, “Alex, please tell me you didn’t just kiss me for Hunter’s benefit.”

“What? No. I mean—not exactly.” Fuck. Why can’t he use only the words that he needs? “The answer’s still no, but I might’ve used it as an excuse if I’d kissed you like two weeks ago. But that’s not why I kissed you just now, and it’s not why I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Oh, you think you’re going to kiss me again, do you,” Henry says with a hint of a smile, lifting his chin in a kind of challenge that Alex does not intend to back away from.

“One-hundred-percent,” he says, then pauses. “Unless you plan on reporting me to HR.”

“Honestly,” says Henry, “I might have to report you if you don’t.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Alex says, very seriously, and he pulls Henry back in.

[coylesboytoy-moved]

i really want to hear your opinions on all of your outlast trials questions 👀

Hell yeah! Thank you!! 🥰 All my answers are below.

Have you played OLT yourself, or have you only seen Let's Plays? // I've played excessively. I bought it the day it was released.

Is/are your reagent(s) a self-insert of yourself, or are they OCs? // He was a self-insert and kind of still is, but I have given him his own name.

What is/are your reagent(s) names? // Alex / Alexander. He looks like an Alex. I make the same one every time.

What's a brief backstory of your reagent(s)? // I don't have one yet besides he's somewhere between 25-35 and was kidnapped off the streets by Murkoff.

What is your favourite trial/program? // It started off as Kill The Snitch, and I do still love it, but after playing so much and the devs making things too easy... I kiiinda like Program 3/Orphanage more now 'cause there's more to do and it's a bit harder to evade enemies.

What is your favourite challenge overall, or favourite one from each Program? // I really like Feed The Children / the one where you go collect 5 bottles of bleach for yummy bleach-and-body-parts soup, and both of the Kill The Snitch challenges.

How many reagents have you released? // 4, I think. On the way to releasing a fifth later tonight.

Who is your favourite lesser ex-pop? // I like the girl that walks around mostly because her VA did such an incredible job.

Who is your favourite main ex-pop/prime asset? // [giggles] Coyle...

Who is your least favourite lesser ex-pop? // That goddamn screamer. Or maybe the woman hiding in lockers and under desks that never shuts the fuck up.

Who is your least favourite main ex-pop/prime asset? // Well since there's only two, I guess Gooseberry is my 'least favourite'.

Do you play solo or in a group? Which do you prefer? Would you be willing to try one or other if you haven't yet? // Solo. Never played with anybody else. :/ I never planned on playing w/ anyone else bc I really don't think I'd enjoy it, I think horror games should stay solo, but I've had a few people ask. I don't think I'll play though, one unfollowed me lmao and the others have people to play with, so.

Regardless of the trial and their objective, which map and/or map section is your favourite? // I love how Fun Park looks, it makes me a bit nostalgic for a fair/carnival I used to go to annually growing up.

Do the sound jumpscares ever get you? // Yes. I'm super desensitized to horror and don't usually react to anything, but the fucking noise jumpscares in Trials are SO loud and so unexpected, they make me jump almost every time.

Do you like the music (ambient music, chase music, end-trial music)? // Yes. I love the menu music, and the music that plays at the very end of the Program 2 trials/challenges.

Do you like the release protocol? If not, what would you change about it? // I like it. I like that we get to put all that we've learned in the 3 programs to use (the reel, the tuners, the keys, etc). Idk, I think it's fine as is. It's overwhelming the first time you go in, but after that, it's smooth sailing.

What kind of new trial or new enemy would you like to see? // I would like to see an evil corrupt priest prime asset, maybe pay an homage to the Father from OL1 or the whole cult nonsense from OL2. Bigger maps would be cool.

What would you like to see changed or implemented into the game in the future? Get creative! // Definitely stop making it easier and easier. More passive voicelines from everyone, especially Coyle, and fix them so they stop overlapping/interrupting each other. I want to see more cosmetics and room decor options. I also want to see simple emotes (sit down, lay down, maybe a silly little dance) and more comms wheel options. Text chat that's only set to groups would be nice as well, but it would need to be heavily monitored and regulated to limit toxicity. Not everyone has- nor wants to use a mic.

How many hours do you have in the game? 100hrs.

Have you played the other Outlast games (DLCs included), or is this your first time~? Do you like other horror games? // Yes, I've played and re-played all OL games and dlcs many times. I replayed everything months ago after playing the OLT beta.

Are you easily frightened by the game, or do you consider it a joyride? (AKA, are you as desensitized as OP)? // Joyride. I've been looking for something to make me feel something or make me genuinely uncomfortable, but nothing has, not since Amnesia The Dark Descent first came out in 2010 (minus the brief, mild discomfort OL2 gave me). I feel OLT is their most watered down game yet, and it's really disappointing to see them censoring and limiting themselves... because Outlast is the no.1 series I have praised for years for being the ONLY horror series/developer that has the balls to put out really extreme, uncensored content. And now they've made it kinda boring and less extreme. :/ I am completely desensitized to horror and don't experience fear.

Any funny moments you'd like to share? // I have some funny videos I never posted of shoving Coyle back out of the way with a door, and of him spinning in place lol.

Any bullshit kills you'd like to share (glitches included)? // I think it was the second or third hardest difficulty of Fun Park in Program 2. Two different instances. First time, I was in a pitch black room and wasn't moving, but Gooseberry--who had no idea I was there and was just patrolling--suddenly bolts straight for me out of nowhere?? And another time, I was hiding in a bin, and she did not see me go in, I wasn't peeking, but all of a sudden she bolts straight for me again, pulls me out, and kills me in one-shot when I had 5 full bars of health.

Any funny glitches you've encountered? // I guess the aforementioned stuff might be glitches.

Would you recommend the game to others in its current state (early access)? // Yes. For early access, there's a decent amount of content with high replayability.

Have you played Project Omega? // No. I don't plan on it. Don't have a group of trustworthy people to play with and I hear it's near impossible.

If you've ever played DBD, would you like to see one of the prime assets as a killer in DBD (in theory)? // Gooseberry would be really cool to see as a DBD killer.

Do you think the prime assets need to be more present in the trials/challenges or no? Why? // Answered this the other day. Yes, I think they need to be more aggressive and present and have their AI improved.

On a scale from 1-10, 1 being 'so easy a baby could do it' and 10 being 'surpassed Dark Souls' level of Difficult', where would you rank the game in difficulty, scare factor, and fun factor from when you first started playing compared to now? // Excluding my beta experience... First time: 6-7 | 5 | 8. Now: 3 | 1 | 5.

What's your opinion on adding voice recognition so the killers can hear you speak via mic (like Phasmophobia)? // I would love to see it. I'd have a blast talking shit or flirting with the antags. I did that all the time when I still played Phasmo. Would be really cool if they respond to certain things you say as well.

What is the shortest and longest amount of time you've spent in a trial/challenge? // Longest, a little over two hours... Shortest, 6 minutes.

If given the option, would you like to become a prime asset yourself post-release-protocol and given the option to hunt other players or AI? // YES OMG. I would LOVE to hunt down some poor fucker who's just starting out. A lot more fun than playing killer in DBD, I'd bet.

[casspurrjoybell-22]

Dream Eater - Chapter 8 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

An intensely bright light sears my eyes and I cry out in pain.

Then there is darkness and I have a sense of time passing, though I can't tell how much.

The sound of voices pulls me back to full awareness and I realize I'm lying on something soft in the pitch dark.

At first, the voices seem to be speaking a foreign language but gradually I'm able to understand what they say.

"Did you not warn him, Dantalian?" the first voice is soft and light and I can't tell if it's male or female.

"My name is Damien now and no. I forgot. Do you think it's permanent?"

"I can't yet say. His physiology is similar but I do not know if our medicines will have the same effect."

I shift slightly, feeling with my hand for the edge of the bed or whatever I'm on and another voice speaks.

This one is closer to me and deeper.

"He is awake."

Footsteps approach.

"Alex?" Damien asks. "How do you feel?"

"Fine. But why is it so dark?"

No one answers but then Damien says...

"It isn't. You've been blinded, Alex. Temporarily, we hope."

I sit up swiftly and feel a large hand settle on my shoulder.

"Steady now," says the deeper voice.

"What do you mean 'blinded?'" I ask, trying not to panic. "What happened?"

"It's my fault," Damien says, sounding miserable. "I haven't jumped between planes in physical form in a long time and it's been even longer since I traveled with a companion. I forgot to warn you to shut your eyes. I'm... sorry."

"Fucking hell. What about you?"

"I'm fine. I... shut my eyes out of habit," I can hear the wince in his tone and I hope he feels as guilty as he sounds.

"Shit. How long is this supposed to last?" I ask, moving my hand in front of my face and seeing no change in the blank darkness before my eyes.

The lighter voice answers.

"I hope your vision will heal and return to normal within a few days but I've never treated someone with a partly human soul before, much less a composite soul like yours."

"Com... composite soul?"

"Yes. I didn't believe Damien at first but your soul is equal parts human, demonic and celestial. You're quite the rare animal."

Which is a polite way of calling me a freak.

"Fuck," I flop back on the soft bed. "Where are we, anyway?"

Damien answers.

"We're in a place called Carnâk, on a semi-physical plane similar to Earth. The people here have physical bodies but they're not as bound to them as humans are. Sakariel had many supporters here, among the Ascended. These people are friends."

"I am Allannan," said the lighter voice.

"And I am Deberon," said the deeper.

I feel a light touch on my hand and then Allannan speaks.

"We knew dear Sakariel in the days before... before the defeat. If it is true that you now carry the Key, we will do all we can to help you."

"I..." several objections are on the tip of my tongue but I feel like the fact that I'm currently meeting people from another plane of existence means I've lost the argument already.

"Thank you," I say instead.

"We'll let you rest. Here..."

I feel the bed dip and a moment later a soft, damp cloth smelling of medicinal herbs is laid across my eyes.

"Keep this on for at least half a kell and I'll bring a fresh batch later."

The weight on the bed disappears and fading footsteps tell me the two Ascendant have left.

The bed dips again and Damien sighs.

"Alex... I'm so sorry. I... please forgive me."

I want to be angry at him but it's not like I never made a mistake or forgot something important.

I mean, there was the time I accidentally pulled the emergency brake on the subway and the time I put a metal tea-kettle in Dante's new microwave.

I never caused anyone to go blind but hey, healing starts with forgiveness, right?

"I know you didn't mean for this happen," I say. "You were trying to help."

He doesn't say anything and it annoys me that I can't see him.

"How long is half a kell, anyway?" I ask, as the cloth over my eyes begins to dry out and itch.

"I think it's like an hour but I'm not sure," Damien replies. "There's a sort of clock thingy on the wall but it only has nine marks on it and it has four hands."

I sigh and take the cloth from my face.

I feel the heat of Damien's body as he leans close.

He rubs his fingers gently over the skin around my eyes, brushing away the clinging bits of herbs left by the poultice.

"You have beautiful eyes," he says. "Just like..." he stops himself and withdraws his hand.

"What do you need?" he asks. "Are you hungry?"

"No but... I could use a shower and a change of clothes. Do they have that sort of thing on this... plane?"

"They do. Here, I'll help you."

He helps me up and guides me over what feels like a smooth stone floor.

The sound changes and I sense we've passed into a small chamber of some kind.

"There's no shower," Damien says. "But there's a sort of bathing pool."

He starts trying to undress me and I push his hands away.

"I can take my own clothes off, without seeing," I say, a little sharply. "And I can wash myself too, so there's no need to hover. Just... help me find a towel and some clothes when I'm finished."

He stands back but I can feel him watching me as I finish undressing.

'Well, let him look,' I think.

It's the most action he's getting out of me anyway.

I step forward uncertainly and his hand lands at my elbow.

He helps me into the bathing pool and hands me the different soaps and things that lie at hand. 

I have to admit he's patient and careful.

Then again, he's also the reason I can't see.

When I'm clean, dry and dressed in something that feels suspiciously like a wispy nightgown, he leads me back into the other chamber and I'm suddenly exhausted.

"I think I'd like to lie down again," I say, keeping my voice cool.

He helps me to the bed and I lie back.

"I'll leave you to rest, then," he says.

I feel him start to withdraw and suddenly I very badly don't want to be alone.

I reach for him and manage to catch at his clothes.

"Wait. Please, don't leave me."

I feel his hesitation and release him.

"Sorry. It's okay. You can go," I say, going for careless.

Instead, I feel the bed dip as he lies beside me.

"I told you, Alex. If it's in my power, I'll do anything you ask. Tell me to leave or stay as you wish. You are the Key and as your keeper, I am yours to command."

I make a face.

"I don't want to command anyone," I say. "Or be kept, for that matter. Besides, what good is a broken key?"

He doesn't say anything for such a long time that I'm barely awake when he finally speaks.

"I don't know but it's all I have and I'll destroy anyone or anything who tries to take it away from me. I already lost my heart. What's my soul, compared to that?"

I don't know if it's real or something I imagine on the edge of sleep but I feel the lightest kiss brush my lips and the warmth of a hand in mine. 

[elizabeaufort]

⸻ For a brief moment Elizabeth could sense a déjà vu from the past, what her home used to be. Both parents bickering, yelling, door slammed, or even objects breaking when she was hidden in her own bedroom, waiting for the war zone to come calm. ⏤ And now she was alone with this woman. The younger Aussie studied her expression, crossing her arms across her own chest. She noticed her mother was also a beautiful woman, she did not recall that she had a scar. It would be that bad that Liz as the years went by, was nearly forgetting what her own mother looked like? If it wasn't for the pictures her father had with them, she would not know what she looked like. It wasn't like she had seen her in person, ever since she left. Only talked once through the phone, although Elizabeth was so adamant about accepting that call. Out of despair, she accepted the call.

She fucking hates that nickname… "Lizzie", her body always flinches every time she calls her like this. Rolled her grey-bluish hues she went to the living room and sat on the armchair, gesturing for the older blonde to sit too. ❛ We had a NICE chat the other day because I thought you were anyone but you. ❜ To be clear, Elizabeth was very drunk, and she didn't recall all the things she said when she was wasted.

❛ After all these years, why now? Hm? Am I not perfect enough for you, Mother? Not pretty enough, not classy enough? I am not clever enough for you? ❜ She inquires awaiting an answer. ❛ I deserve answers.❜ It was the minimum thing she could do right now. ❛ You are NOT going to meet my toddlers. I don't trust you, since you walked out that door and never looked back. ❜ Speaking of which, Elizabeth picked her phone and texted Alex to pick up the twins if he could, and bring them to a park or something, distract them with extra activity because there was a problem at home. Yes, the problem is Stella.

──a smirk formed on her lips, almost triumphant, at his response. “good,” she retorted. blue eyes followed him as he left, his words leaving her entirely unaffected; been there, done that. she is only a little afraid of the people who are after her; or more like of what they can do to her because she might not have a death wish just yet, she loves her life very much. hence, coming all the way to New York to keep a low profile for a while, and she doesn’t need this shit show from Claude, not now. him acting all high and might set her more on fire than his words actually did; he forgot how he had been the source for all this suffering she had to endure, living in poverty for him and he had thought he was fine to slack off, trapped her there with a baby she hardily could look at without thinking of the life she had left behind in her home country.

her attention was back on her daughter and she gave her a questioning look for a second, then smiled a little softer this time. but before she could say anything more, her daughter opened her mouth again and made her roll her eyes —sure, whatever, she had talked shit about him with her the other night, it wasn’t her fault; but she wasn’t going to focus on Claude, not at this moment. seeing her daughter in the light of day, without her tear-smudged make-up, she thought she at least had taken after her; and turned into a very beautiful woman. if a little influenced by her father when it came to how she regarded her. still, she did not recoil. “come now, Lizzie,” she smiled, making her way into the dining room area, facing her daughter as she stood a few paces away.

“do you not think we, as adults, could move past this now?” she gave her a look; besides, she didn’t know what she had been through, even if her memories of her as a child may not be the best, she still never knew the whole story —but in her defense, she had been but a wee baby when she left; she was, what? nine, maybe? And she was certain Claude, aside from a horrible, useless father, had also influenced her more against her. But she is not here to fight, either way; not with her daughter. “we had a nice chat the other day…” she added after a moment.