#look i know the show would never have gotten made without product placement

[hurlumerlu]

Also obligatory disclaimer that I hate advertisements but the fact they decided to do their little product placement right as Dan is using his cop status to literally kidnap one of our heroes is so fucking funny

Suzuki ! the hood of our cars are perfectly designed for roughly shoving anticorruption protestors against when they try to flee from you !!

Handcuff them to our sturdy above door handles : they'll never get away !!

Are they trying to annoy you into lettting them go ? You can mute the radio with one press of a button !!

Suzuki ! for all your false arrests !!

[stormyoceans]

KAREEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!! IM SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY AND GRATEFUL THAT YOU’RE DOING THE REWATCH!!!!!!! i know making your own posts can be kinda scary but please know that you’re doing great and that every single contribute matters!!!!!!

“brown like horse shit” will forever be the most iconic line uttered in the history of television SORRY BUT IT’S JUST SO FUNNY AND IT SENDS ME EVERY SINGLE TIME. imagine saying that to one of the people who are supposed to hire you and STILL getting the job of your dreams THAT’S JUST PEAK KING BEHAVIOUR. then again, talay is probably one of the most charming and lovable characters i’ve ever seen, no wonder he can get away with everything. also if GMMTV had the vision we would have gotten the DVD box set with a special featurette about the show titled ‘horse shit brown’ as a funny little nod both to this iconic moment and to the color coded episodes BUT ALAS

vice versa is honestly such a gem of a show not only because it was able to remain true to its characters and have a consistent and coherent narrative until the very end while at the same time being forced to add so many product placements (and doing a damn good job at it if i may add), but also because it integrated so many cameos and easter eggs so naturally!!!! NO OTHER SHOW WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT THIS IS THE HILL IM GONNA DIE ON

i wish i could answer all your questions about universe-swapping but unfortunately some things will indeed remain without a proper explanation ;;;;;; @morkofday and i joked about how we would have liked vice versa to be like those chinese series with 50 episodes so that it could explore all the different possibilities about universe travelling, because when you start thinking about it there really are so many interesting scenarios that you can come up with, but in the end im okay with not having all the answers. the fantasy part was never the point of the show, so i think they established it just enough for what they were trying to convey. i do want to (quickly) share my two cents on puen and talay switching with tun and tess tho, because if you think about it, talay is way more similar to tun (they’re both hardworking boys with a big dream and a loving family) and puen to tess (rich boys already connected to the movie industry and a complicated relationship to their family [or the lack thereof]) than the opposite, but i don't think it's a coincidence that the universe (which is somewhat of a sentient force in the show) made them switch with the person they have less in common: there are lessons to be learned in living someone else's life, especially when it's quite the opposite of yours

ANYWAY. thank you so much for doing this!!!!!! i've loved to read your thoughts and if you feel like doing it again please know that im looking forward to it!!!!! ALSO HAVE I FOUND OST OF ALL TIME SO TRUE OF YOU TO SAY THAT

Ok I’m doing it!!!

I’m doing the Vice Versa rewatch!! I know we’re on week 2 and I’m behind but I had stuff going on and I didn’t have time 🙈

I don’t usually make my own posts about shows I watch so bear with me I’m kinda new at this 😅

Just a few minutes in and I realize I forgot so much of it! Of course I remember how much I loved it and how it made me feel but the details of the story have been lost by now.

When Talay described the man as brown like a horse shit I laughed out loud! Did I forget how funny the show was? 😅

This is the most iconic intro of a character ever 👏🏽😍😎 KING!! And we all know how I feel about him in the scene with the suspenders 😏

Look at these smitten kittens!! I love Sea’s freckles 🥰

As I keep watching I keep remembering so much from when I first saw it. Vice Versa was my second GMMTV BL and my 4th overall and I’ve seen so many since then but this one is really in my top 3 (I have 3 faves but they’re not ranked among themselves, they’re all equally my faves) which is really saying something! I loved this show so much and I really fell in love with Sea at first watch (Jimmy I liked but I didn’t love him til later. It took longer to warm up to him cause I didn’t like his character in Bad Buddy).

And it was my second GMMTV BL after Bad Buddy which was so good and literally changed my life cause it got me into BLs! And I was excited to see OhmNanon in it too! But I wasn’t really as disappointed that they weren’t in the show as much or that they didn’t end up together as other people were.

The way they switched from Sea to Ohm and back is pretty cool to see!

I remember that each episode was color coded and I remember not paying attention to the colors at all for some eps and trying my hardest to notice them for other eps. I’m so bad at noticing visuals like that 😅 but I would check tumblr after each episode and see how others noticed the colors! I see the ocean blue here in ep 1 🌊👀

Oh that’s right! There was a ForceBook cameo! I never watched Enchante 😅 and oh snap! The password to the secret universe-swapping club is a quote from 2gether! I understand that reference now! 😁

I have questions about this universe-swapping. Are there only 2 universes that do the swapping? Or are there a million universes that anyone could be from? If so they’re so lucky they’re from the same one and swapped to the same one, that’s fate right there. And what if you were swapped with someone of a different culture? Would one automatically know the language of the region they’re in? Or is it that you only switch with someone of your own culture? Is it like you switch with the “you” of that world? But Puen and Talay aren’t really like Tun and Tess 🤔 questions that will never be answered…

Sea’s voice is beautiful and Have I Found will always be a top tier OST in my book!! 👏🏽 one of my faves!!

What a wild ride that was revisiting ep 1 of this show! All the emotions just came flooding back to me! Maybe I don’t have anything deep to say to add to the discourse of this show but I’m so glad Monica came up with this rewatch cause I’m having a good time! Thank you @stormyoceans! I’m excited to keep going, maybe I’ll notice more stuff I didn’t realize the first time around 😁

[retvenkos]

romantic at heart | m.

Legend of Korra - Mako x Reader, fluff

tw: none

word count: 4.6k

A/N: canon? who needs her? certainly not this fic. korrasami deserved to be canon earlier so i vaguely mentioned it, and mako and bolin’s apartment is the perfect setting don’t @ me.

Summary: Mako has always had bad luck when it comes to love, but with (Y/n), things feel easy. So why, then, is it so hard to admit it?

the three times he didn’t say it, and the one time he did.

one;

“I’m telling you guys, this is going to be great! Part Four is my favorite in The Adventures of Nuktuk: Hero of the South!” 

Mako shared an amused look with (Y/n) as Bolin led the way into the darkened theater, holding open the door for the group to enter. Asami and Korra passed hand in hand, and when (Y/n) walked past Bolin, they tossed a piece of popcorn at him and Bolin caught it in his mouth.

Mako brought up the rear of the group, and as they walked up to find their seats, he whispered, “How many parts are there, Bo?”

“Seven! And the Finale’s great, don’t get me wrong, but it just doesn’t have the heart that part four does.”

“That’s just because he kisses Ginger,” (Y/n) leaned in and whispered to Mako, earning an incredulous “hey!” from Bolin.

“How’d that work out, by the way?” Asami turned to the earthbender with what sounded like genuine curiosity and Bolin chuckled nervously.

“Ah, well, you know, the hearts of mover stars are fickle, so we didn’t last long… there was something about it being a publicity stunt, but that didn’t make much sense, so…”

“Well it’s her loss,” Korra elbowed Bolin in the side with a smile and he forced a chuckle.

“She doesn’t deserve you, Bo.”

“Yeah, you’re a great mover star.”

A few people in the theater shushed them, and the group settled down into their chairs, just moments before the lights dimmed further and the mover started. The disembodied voice of Varrick boomed through the speakers with a recap of the previous 3 parts of the daring adventure, and everyone fell silent, slowly getting sucked into the mover before them.

Ever since their debut, the Nuktuk movies were a success - a staple of Republic City culture - getting replayed in theatres again and again. After learning that Mako hadn’t seen Nuktuk in its entirety, Bolin called for a state of emergency and got the whole group together so they could schedule a time for a complete rewatch of the seven-part masterpiece.

Mako had been planning to make some excuse - a series of cases that Beifong put him up to, or a slew of paperwork that some higher-paid coworkers pawned off onto him. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to miss something for work, and it wouldn’t be the first attempt at lying to get out of a viewing party. Just three months ago he narrowly avoided a showing of Love amongst the Dragons by faking sickness and saying that Beifong told him to sleep all day so he could be back at work the next. Everyone but Bolin believed him, and Bolin (who didn’t want to see it either but promised Asami he would go) let it slide.

After that, Bolin was better at guessing when Mako was lying, and whenever he needed Mako’s compliance, he set (Y/n) up to the task of cajoling Mako to come along.

So far, their track record had been impeccable.

(Y/n) chuckled at something they saw on screen, and Mako turned to them. “How many cases of Vari-dye do you think Varrick sold after that product placement?” They gestured to the screen where the once blonde Ginger flagrantly mentioned her hair dye product before becoming a, well… ginger. The script was somehow able to loosely tie the product placement into the plot, but the moment earned a couple of well-earned laughs throughout the theater.

“Millions, most likely. Aren’t these movers big in Ba Sing Se?”

“As comedies,” (Y/n) muttered, leaning in, clearly trying to keep their voice down so Bolin didn’t hear. The theater around them was dark and silent, but the light reflected in (Y/n)’s eyes was full of life and mirth. Mako found himself unable to look away.

He cleared his throat, “You do have to give it to Nuktuk and his comedic timing.”

“And Juji’s heart-wrenching death and subsequent resurrection.”

Mako found himself chuckling at their lame joke, and for once, he didn’t mind. (Y/n) smiled triumphantly, as though they had accomplished something truly grand, and angled their bag of popcorn towards Mako. He took some and popped a piece in his mouth, his laughter still dying on his lips. 

“Varrick must be quite the director, to get you to laugh in a totally serious, not-a-comedy mover.”

“Varrick?” and there was just enough suggestion in Mako’s words to say all that he couldn’t, though why he couldn’t seem to get anything else out, he didn’t know.

Things were always easy with (Y/n); their smiles were soft and infectious, their tactics in getting him to open up were effortless and effective, and falling in love with them had been the most simple and uncomplicated thing in this world. It should have been with such ease that Mako told them that it was them that got him into the theater and their corny comments that made him burn inside, like a thousand dying comets that took the form of shooting stars.

But for some reason, he was stuck.

Unsurprising, really, Mako had never really had luck when it came to love and even friendship. There was always something complicating things; there were always two sides of him, fighting the other for reasons even he couldn’t fathom. Eventually, one of them would lose. Eventually, something would give. 

But until that eventuality…

“I suppose I am quite the comedian. Should I write a screenplay?” (Y/n) was speaking, but something in their demeanor was different - a little stunned - like they hadn’t considered something before and it was only now dawning on them, slowly, but comfortably. Easy. “It would have to be a sequel to Nuktuk, of course. Maybe I can introduce the grumpy, mysterious fire-bender who he’s now forced to share a quest with?”

(Y/n) nudged him in the shoulder, already rolling their eyes at their own idea. Mako looked down, suddenly interested in picking the perfect piece of popcorn. “Yeah. If you’re making it, why not?”

(Y/n) snorted and turned back to the film.

two;

Taking the steps to his apartment two at a time, Mako fished for his keys in the pocket of his pants. Walking the beat had the potential to be more trouble than it was worth, and often Mako found himself at the gym at the end of the day, taking out his frustration the way he used to - pro-bending. Well, not so much pro-bending, anymore, seeing as they disbanded the Fire Ferrets, and dissolved the team, but it was the same training, nonetheless, and Mako had been a pro-bender so long that oftentimes, nothing felt more comfortable than the gym.

As he walked down the hall to his door - second on the right, Bolin had insisted - Mako could hear the sounds of laughter and the beeping of the oven. Despite himself, he smiled, breathing in deeply as he fiddled with the lock and opened the door.

Inside the tiny apartment, (Y/n) and Bolin were working side by side, leaning over the oven as they looked at the baked goods that lay within. The counters were a mess of cluttered ingredients and mismatched bake wear, Pabu had tracked flour across the carpet, and by every measure it was chaotic, but Mako simply leaned against the doorframe, speaking just loud enough to be heard. “Stress baking, again? Y’know, I’m really starting to regret giving you a key.”

"This was all Bolin, actually.” (Y/n) pulled the baking sheet out of the oven and set it down before turning to Mako with their usual countenance. “He told me to come over - he bought a set of mixing bowls and everything.”

“He didn’t buy more counter space?”

“Hey!” Bolin called incredulously through a mouth full of baked goods. Pabu scuttled beneath him, eating the crumbs that fell to the floor. “Counters wouldn’t fit.”

“It’s alright Bo,” (Y/n) nudged his arm with their shoulder, turning back to the task at hand. They used an old spatula to take their masterpiece off of the pan, and Bolin took two from them. 

“You have to try this batch, Mako, (Y/n)’s gotten really good at their green tea cookies.”

“Oh?”

Mako shut the door behind him and walked over to the couch. (Y/n) met him halfway with their signature, light green cookie, Mako took it with an appreciative smile. “The secret is in the matcha. I wasn’t putting in enough before, so they didn’t taste right.”

Mako broke off a bit of the cookie, making sure to get a bit that had a white chocolate chip in it, and savored the taste. (Y/n) was watching him with one of their expectant smiles, and he nodded his head, the bittersweet flavor still lingering in his mouth. “These are your best yet.”

“High praise, coming from you.” And there was an edge of sarcasm to their voice, but their eyes were bright. Mako just looked at them for a moment, really looked at them in all of their casual beauty. (Y/n) had moved into his life so early on and so slowly that Mako didn’t know what life would be like without their casual teasing and easy grins.

And, of course, their random (but not unwelcome) bouts of stress baking.

Mako must have been staring a bit too long, because (Y/n) raised a playful eyebrow, and not too long after, Bolin broke the silence. “Uh, Pabu and I have to go, and uh... y’know, do adult stuff, with uh....”

“With Korra?” (Y/n) supplied amusedly, turning to Bolin, who was stuffing a napkin with cookies hurriedly. 

“Yeah! Y’know, Avatar stuff...” Bolin shrugged, slipping out the door, only to open it up again and grab his shoes before shoving off again.

(Y/n) scoffed and Mako sighed, calling after him. “Real smooth, Bo!” 

A muffled response called out to them, and (Y/n) laughed, walking back over to the kitchen area, where they started to put together another batch of cookies, measuring the sugar with their hands and putting it into a bowl with butter. “I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked out from noise complaints.”

Yeah, well Bolin charmed our neighbors into liking us too much to see us go.”

“His charm does go far, doesn’t it?” Mako watched and (Y/n) moved through his apartment with ease, pulling spoons out of the drawers and cleaning the dishes as they went. Their practiced movements had the surety and preciseness of someone who lived there, and the thought was enough to make Mako’s throat dry.

“So,” Mako cleared his throat and walked over to (Y/n) passing them the egg they were reaching for. “you measure everything with your hands, and yet you’re constantly insisting that baking is a science. How does that work?”

“It’s all in the weight and look of it - a full cup is a far cry from a fourth.” (Y/n) mixed the ingredients together, their brow set in concentration, “Or, at least, that’s what my mom used to say. What I will tell you—” they looked up at Mako rather suddenly, that intensity still alight within them “—is that it’s in how it feels.”

“So the weight of it.”

“Yes... but it’s more than that.” (Y/n) looked at him with their sharp eyes, as though trying to judge something. “Go wash your hands,” and they jerked their head to the side, “I’ll show you.”

Mako didn’t even hesitate to do as they said, and even though Bolin had left, he could hear his voice - a surprised “what...?” - nagging the back of his mind. It was easy to shrug off. It was (Y/n). Everything was easy when it came to them.

“Alright,” (Y/n) said, with a hint of childish excitement, as Mako slung the towel he had used to dry his hands over his shoulder. “Give me your hands.”

Their touch tickled and their fingers - dry and powdery from the flour - grazed over his, opening his palms with a gentle sort of care.

“Here is one cup or so.” (Y/n) grabbed a handful of flour, transferred it to their other hand, and skimmed some off the top before placing it in his. “Yeah, you can feel the weight, and you can see how much there is, but you have to kind of trust that what you're feeling is right, because it’s not always going to feel the same, right? When you’re tired or you’ve been baking all day, things feel different, even though they’re the same.”

“All this for flour?”

“For each cup of flour. We need two and a half.”

“I can see why Bolin asks you to do the baking.” (Y/n) chuckled and guided his hands to the mixing bowl, where Mako let the flour slip out of his fingertips like really fine sand. “But I can tell that you feel it...” the last bit of flour fell out of his hands, but Mako let his hands hover near (Y/n)’s for just a moment longer, “and that’s good enough.”

They smiled, and it has all the serenity and beauty of dawn. “I’ll make a baker of you, yet.” They added more flour to the bowl and started mixing, their gaze flicking up to Mako. “One of these days you’re going to understand the feeling of it.”

“I...” and part of Mako wanted to say that he already did, that his feelings were about the only thing he understood when it came to moments like these, but the words got caught in his throat, and he found himself unable to get them out. “I think we’ll have to do a lot more baking, then.”

three;

Mako ran, the ground beneath his feet steady and his breathing exact. The beauty of Republic City Park surrounded him and in the early morning, when the air was just nippy enough to need a jacket, there were few people to be found. The usual groups of people practicing tai chi or playing Pai Sho weren’t out yet, and the sun was just peaking over the horizon. 

Morning runs often gave Mako a sense of clarity - there was very little he could focus on when in fast, forward motion, and everything complicated fell away. It was just him, the ground, and the fire in his veins. 

Mako slowed to a jog, and when he found an empty park bench, he sat down, wiping the sweat off of his brow. The shadows were just starting to creep away, losing to the brilliance of the sun and hiding in each recess and tiny alcove. The duck pond in front of him was warming to a crystal-like blue. Mako breathed out and tipped his head back, letting the stillness wash over him, his thoughts slowly catching up with him.

“Mako?”

And at first, he thought it was just his feelings for (Y/n) meeting up with him once more, but then he heard the steady pounding of the pavement and there they were jogging toward him, ushering in the morning with a comfortable pace.

“Heading into work later than usual?” They stopped by the bench and Mako slid over so they’d have room to sit.

“No, Beifong told me to take a day off. I usually do paperwork today, but she handed it off to someone else.”

(Y/n) hummed in acknowledgement. “So you’re joining Asami and me for our run, then?”

"Huh?”

“Asami and I usually go on a run, at this time. We meet here.”

“Asami told me that I should take a run since I wasn’t going into work today.”

Both of them scoffed, relaxing deeper into the metal bench. For a moment they just sat there, taking in the moment, and letting the world dawn on them, a beautiful mixture of colors - a painting slowly completing itself. Eventually, (Y/n) turned to Mako, an eyebrow raised in jest. “Do you reckon they think they’re being slick?”

“Probably - and it’ll only get worse once they get Korra on board.”

“Who’s to say they haven’t already?” The two chuckled, shaking their heads at the efforts of their friends, and (Y/n) knocked their knees together, leaning in a little closer. “It’s alright, I like spending time with you.”

“You’re gonna hate me once we finish this run, though.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to buy me some tea, afterwards.” (Y/n) stood up, stretching their arms and letting out a yawn. “To make it up to me, of course.”

Mako stifled a smile and stood, making a show of his weary sigh. “Alright” —(Y/n) rolled their eyes at him— “You drive a hard bargain.”

They started off at a slow jog, and every minute or so Mako upped the intensity until they were sprinting across Republic City Park, occasionally dodging the wayward soul taking a morning stroll. The world blurred around them, the lush foliage turning into swaths of green with the occasional pinprick of color - purple or yellow, green or blue. As they slowed down, the world became more defined, and when they came to a walk, (Y/n) pulled ahead and turned around so they could walk backwards, facing Mako with a breathless grin.

“You owe me at least a muffin to go along with that tea, after what you just pulled. I almost ran into a woman walking her toddler! Could you imagine what would have happened, had I hit her?”

Mako laughed, still coming down from his high, and (Y/n) grinned at the sound - dazzling and so bright, it put the sun to shame. “Let’s get you out of the park, then, before you start running down Pai Sho players.” 

The two fell into step beside each other, taking the path out of the park and into the busy streets. Already, Republic City was booming with life, and the two were rather quick to slip into the quiet tea shop that was just around the corner. Inside, the cafe was fairly empty, with slow music playing from the speakers. (Y/n) closed their eyes and breathed in the smell of freshly-baked muffins, and Mako was quick to look away when they caught him staring.

(Y/n) walked towards the case that held all of the baked goods, trying to read the different types they had displayed. “This is way better than trying to throw something together at my apartment.”

Mako pulled his attention away from the menu board, where he had been searching for the right type of tea. “Your apartment? You mean you actually have a place to go, other than mine?” 

“You gave me the key.”

“For emergencies.”

(Y/n) scoffed. “Well, ‘emergencies’ is in clear need of a mutual definition.”

The two ordered, and Mako paid, despite (Y/n) saying they had the money, and when their order was ready, they took a seat in the corner, next to a window that overlooked a busy intersection. (Y/n) insisted they split the muffin and gave half to Mako, and after settling into their more calm atmosphere, (Y/n) turned to Mako.

“So, what are you going to do for the rest of your day off?” (Y/n) took a sip of their tea and fixed Mako with one of those stares - the kind that saw through everything else, and somehow got down to his core. “I can’t imagine this is what you had planned.”

“Uh… I don’t know. I figured I’d go home and work on finding a lead to a case or something.”

“Even though Beifong told you to take the day off?”

“Well, I’m not at the station…” Mako trailed off, suddenly finding great interest in the rim of his cup.

“And you’re not going to work from home, either.” (Y/n) scoffed exaggeratedly, and though Mako was the most incorrigible person they’d ever met. Although, in their defense, he probably was. “Not on my watch.”

“So what, you’re going to find something for me to do all day?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

Mako watched as (Y/n) sat back in the booth, a triumphant yet challenging smile on their face, and he felt the disbelief in his chest melt into something softer. It was there, again, that urge to say something both incredibly brave and terribly stupid; that desire to put all of his feelings into words and express them more truly than anything else.

“Alright,” Mako swallowed and allowed himself a small smile. “If that’s what it takes.

✧ *:･ﾟ

one;

Just when Mako had admitted to (Y/n) that he was an avid reader, he couldn’t remember, but at some point, they had found out, and ever since, the two spent their lazy weekends sprawled out on his sky blue sofa, books in hand. This time, (Y/n) had come earlier than usual, and by midday, they had already finished their novel - a fast-paced murder mystery with just a bit of a redemption arc for one of the main leads. They had talked about (Y/n)’s book while walking down to the market to get the necessary fixings for dinner, and when they came back to Mako’s tiny apartment, he passed them one of his favorites to read - a historical fiction that combined elements of notable legends and recorded history to make an interesting thriller with plenty of easy-to-digest drama. 

When (Y/n) took it from him, they took one look at the summary and raised an eyebrow.  “This is one of your favorites?” Mako had tried to push down his embarrassment, stuttering out some kind of response, but had just smiled. “It’s not a bad thing, just surprising. I’m sure I’ll love it.”

And they did. For the next hour and a half, the two sat in Mako’s apartment in relative silence, reading separate novels and making the occasional exclamation of shock, betrayal, joy, and surprise. Mako had looked over at (Y/n) occasionally, trying to judge where they were in the book, and whether they were enjoying it just as much as he had, the first time.

At some point in the day, the sun filtering through the window matured into a deeper, golden shade, turning the afternoon into early evening. Mako, who had been thoroughly engrossed in his novel for the better part of the day, stood up from his couch and stretched when he noticed the change in light. Letting out a sigh, he made his way over to the kitchen area. As he started to make dinner for the both of them, Mako missed the way that (Y/n) turned to look at him from their place on the couch, a lopsided grin on their face. They still lay on the turquoise material, sitting upside down with their feet in the air, book in hand and the red couch cushion resting on their stomach, watching as Mako turned on the stove with a click of propane and a bit of fire bending. 

It wasn't long before the apartment was full of the comforting smell of Mako's cooking, and soon (Y/n) found it impossible to focus on the page before them. They opted to right themself instead and watch Mako as he finished up, adding the finishing touches to the meal before splitting what lay in the pan into two different bowls. 

He handed a bowl to (Y/n) as he settled onto the couch, both of them moving to sit cross-legged, their knees touching. (Y/n) savored the flavor of Mako's signature dish, and he gestured to the book beside them. 

"How're you liking it so far?"

"The book? It's great. Perfectly paced, in my opinion, although I wouldn't mind for a little bit more world-building. The time period is so interesting and they could lean into it a little more."

Mako nodded, satisfied with the smile on their face and the eagerness in their tone. "I figured you'd like it. There's a lot happening, but the characters are good enough to carry the story."

"That's a raving review, coming from you." (Y/n) laughed, the sound falling from their lips effortlessly. "And I can see why it's your favorite. You like a good redemption arc, don't you?"

"It's an interesting enough idea."

"A rather sweet one, too. Are you sure you're not a romantic at heart?"

Mako scoffed in response, but even so, he could feel his cheeks burning up, the nagging voice in his head (the one that told him to just confess already, or do something equally as rash) getting louder from conviction. "I think that's you."

"Oh definitely, but there's always room for one more," (Y/n) mumbled through a mouth full of noodles. "And judging by your taste in books, I'd say you already are."

"There's not even a romantic subplot!"

"The main character literally took lightning to the face for his best friend, and then proceeded to say that he’d do it all again, if it meant they could stay together. Are you telling me there isn't something there?"

“You said yourself that they’re friends!”

“C’mon, Mako,” (Y/n) deadpanned, setting aside their dinner so that they could use their hands to punctuate their speech. There was a fire in their eyes, and something restless in the way they moved - like there was something important they were trying to say. “Friendship is clearly just an excuse for them.”

“An excuse?” Mako felt his throat dry. Suddenly, he was acutely aware of their proximity, and the little space that still existed between them - like they were almost touching, and yet oceans apart. 

(Y/n)’s hands fidgeted in their lap. “Yeah, like… An easy out when you’re too afraid to go for it...or when you think you’re not enough.” Part of Mako wanted to look away, but (Y/n)’s eyes had caught his gaze too fully and the other part of him battled to stay. For the longest moment, he couldn’t move. “But they love each other - you can see it.”

There was a battle waging war inside Mako; each side fighting the other for dominance, and only one coming out on top. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost like a deep sigh. “Yeah, they love each other.”

(Y/n) smiled, their mouth moving with just the slightest tremble, and part of Mako wondered what had disrupted the ease with which they did everything, but another part of him already knew. Mako reached out and cupped their cheek, the feeling of their skin against his flooding him with courage he didn’t know he had.

“And I love you, (Y/n).” 

“About time you confessed to me.” (Y/n)’s eyes sparkled in jest before they surged forward, kissing Mako and igniting the fire in his chest. All he could think about was them and the way they blissfully invaded all of his senses, how soft their lips were, and how strong their hands were, as they wrapped around him, pulling him nearer. When they broke apart, (Y/n) rested their forehead on his. 

Then they said it, their voice a whisper that sent him tumbling over the edge, their breath fanning against his cheek.

“I love you, too.”

Mako kissed them again, craving the feeling of their lips against his, chasing after the way they made him feel - like every moment had led to this, like every battle had been worth the struggle. Time seemed to stop, and for a moment, it was as though there was no gravity, and the only thing anchoring Mako to this world was (Y/n), and their touch.

“Like I said,” (Y/n) was smiling when he pulled away, and their gaze made it easy to come back down to earth. “You’re a romantic at heart.”

Mako chuckled and (Y/n) laughed with him, the sound filling the tiny apartment with something undefined but utterly perfect. 

“Alright, so maybe I am.” Mako relented, tipping his head back. “But an epic romance doesn’t happen within that book, if that’s what you're after.”

“Well, maybe we’ll have to write a sequel of our own."

-- taglist: message me if you want to be added to a taglist!

[soulmate-game]

Okay, I’m not sure if what I was trying to say in my last post was said very well.

I completely understand the tagging situation from the First Wave with the DC fans. That’s discourse that is mostly solved and we can’t do anything about those who are forever gonna be bitter or lazy. I’m not talking about that stuff.

The stuff I want to prevent/limit is the hate that comes after our fandom deliberately. And yes, I know I can’t stop it. None of us can stop bitter, antagonistic people from being bitter and antagonistic. None of us can stop people who just want to be angry.

I’m not talking about stopping them, though.

I’m talking about what we can do to protect ourselves as creators and consumers in this fandom. As people who love and appreciate what the creations and people in this fandom have to offer. In simplistic form, I’m saying we need to learn how to shield ourselves from bullies. And there are methods we can use to make ourselves less of a target to the people who go after us, and methods to cut their attacks off short. None of these methods are fool-proof, but they will work to filter out a good majority of the shit we would otherwise be showered by, like a big umbrella against Assholery. Sure, the wind might still blow some in our face and we might splash in a puddle or two by accident, but at least we aren’t soaked.

So let me list the various things that can help you shield yourself from hate/harassment/antis who might just be out to get you.

1) leave the fandom.

The most effective, but least attractive method possible. This is limited to being a last ditch effort, if things have just gotten too hard to handle. I’m covering it first though, because we have to acknowledge that it is a viable method. If you feel trapped, hated, bullied, I’m sure all of us in this fandom would prefer you take a break and leave us for a while in the sake of your own health and safety then stay where you are miserable. This is less of a problem for us though, because mostly this option is gonna be for fandoms where the discourse and attacks are internal. Maribat is largely a peaceful and supportive/healthy environment once you’re inside our little bubble, the main discourse comes from outside in. So let’s focus on the main point of this post— how to keep our bubble from popping.

2) Make it apparent right away that you are Unapologetic.

Whenever you post content or are approached by someone about the topic of your fandom, don’t you DARE ever apologize for liking what you like or posting unproblematic content. You need to make it clear right off the bat that you are not gonna be swayed, bullied, or shamed out of your fandom. Stand with pride and make it clear, but don’t be verbose about it. A simple “Don’t like, don’t read” is classic but sometimes if you’re posting/talking during a more confrontational period of the fandom, you need to up your game to reflect that. The funny thing is, people can easily be intimidated by swearing if it isn’t directed at them or clearly antagonistic. If you’re swearing in a joking, casual or even in a manner that shows you’re not taking yourself too seriously, people will usually avoid picking fights with you. For this, my favorite lines to use on my work include;

“Don’t like, I don’t fucking care. I fell down the rabbit hole.”

“Don’t bother reading if you’re not into this, this shit bitch-slapped me and dragged me along on it’s adventure.”

“I’m addicted to this fandom, don’t bother trying to save me. If it bothers you, I don’t give a fuck. Save yourselves.”

3) Don’t approach or interact

Unless someone comes at you first, never try to persuade someone away from hating us. That just makes you a target in an empty field, for the vultures to surround and gang up on. If someone approaches you with provocative but not overly insulting or intelligent language— I.e; trying to start a fight, vague insults not always relating to the fandom itself, trying to insult your character/judgement— do not respond. Delete the message, block the account, and surround yourself with fluffy good stuff to forget the wanna-be harasser. These people are often not brave enough to outright start a fight, and want you to get defensive first so they know the weak points in your armor to exploit. Defensive statements declare your own insecurities, don’t get defensive. It gives them a way to win without having to defend themselves or feel vulnerable— it’s like exploiting type differences in Pokémon. You wait for an unfamiliar Pokémon to expose it’s type, then snipe it with the moves it’s weak to. Then, you have a near sure-fire win even with under leveled Pokémon on your team.

Don’t be a proud Infernape that gets sniped by a weak-ass level 5 Piplup. We’re strong, don’t show them the chinks in our armor.

4) Have a support network. Even if they don’t know they are your support network.

The fandom as a whole serves this purpose, and this is mostly gonna be a tactic you use when the discourse is inside the fandom, but there can be uses for this in discourse from outside the fandom as well. If someone tries to act like they like your story/art “but...” they passive aggressively state things they “would prefer” or they try to make it sound like you made stupid mistakes (a tactic to make you insecure about yourself) instead of kindly pointing out errors or offering constructive criticism (ex: “you know you put your trigger list somewhere where it’s useless right? Love your story though.)—THESE ARE ALL PROVOCATIONS. They are trying to make you insecure so that you change things about yourself, your work, or jump through hoops to try to “make it up” to them when you did nothing wrong and there are no problems to fix. Do not fall for it! Instead, politely as possible, bring the issue into a public space where you feel safe/trust the people in that space to keep the bullshit from escalating. For me, I straight up explain my reasoning for the placement of my trigger list as if I’m advertising a particularly boring but important product that I’m selling, then offer places for them to bring the issue into a discussion with others. I send them to a discoed group or right here to my tumblr, and I immediately make the issue into a big discussion (do YOU think there is anything to change? Let’s ALL talk about it) so that I am no longer isolated and easy for them to harass. They might refuse to join the discussion and further try to pressure you, but do not cave. Merely say that a public discussion has been started, and if they are actually, legitimately concerned about the way you do things then they can debate it in a public setting. This way, you have back up. 9/10 people who try to target you this way will back off and never enter the conversation you started.

5) Do not fight back.

This sounds counterintuitive, but a lot of the time once discourse gets this bad, arguing/defending/ trying to prove your point only fuels their rage more. I have found that people hate very little in this world more than they hate being wrong. And people who hate being wrong will fight to the bitter death about their opinions, no matter how invalid or hurtful they are, in the favor of their blissful ignorance. Remove yourself from harmful discussions or those that seem to be going in circles as soon as possible, and try to surround yourself in your support group. Never let people make you feel stupid, your opinions illegitimate, or your likes/dislikes invalid or evil.

6) Try to learn how to recognize bullies in disguise

It’s too much for me to try to cover here, but you need to PLEASE look into how to spot gaslighting. Tactics of gaslighting are often used to attack others and try to make them feel like their own opinions are invalid or their mindset untrustworthy. People will often approach you in the guise of friendship/support/ “I am not into this, but...” and while this is not always a red flag, we have to keep our eyes open for any signs of this person or their approach being rooted in anything other than legitimate curiosity or kindness. Not all suggestions that say they are out of concern actually ARE. Keep an eye out for warning signs, and cut off interaction once things seem like they may lead to an argument or you being in a vulnerable position if you continue interacting.

(Brief mention of s**cide and threats in the section below)

7) If all else fails, BLOCK THEM.

No hesitation, we don’t need this shit. They make a second account? Block that too. Don’t respond, only take screenshots or reblog if it is directly harmful information that can/should be documented (words that encourage suicide, threats, insults that seem a little too specific for comfort) and give the evidence to someone you trust to look out for you. A therapist, a family member, or even the authorities if you deem that necessary. Just don’t handle it alone.

We are not responsible for other people’s actions, opinions, or anger. Take the steps to protect yourself instead of trying to reconcile. Sometimes, reconciliation isn’t an option. Both parties have to be willing to reconcile, and it is clear they have nothing in mind but hurting us. So raise your shields and protect yourself and your friends, we’re not gonna lose a war to petty jerks.

[love-sapphirerose]

Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon Episode 16 Review

https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/review/yashahime-princess-half-demon/episode-16/.168486

I got a bad feeling about "Double-Edged Moroha" from the moment it started. You'd think, given that last week's episode randomly decided to break away from the story to have a flashback story time with Riku, that the show would take even a scant minute or two to establish things like context and pacing: Where the girls are. Why they are there. Some vague idea about how long it has been since that godforsaken misadventure with the Rapey Mountain Arsonist. You know, the simple stuff that helps the audience figure out what the hell is going on. But no, it doesn't even take a couple of seconds for Yashahime to start screwing up the most basic rules of “How to Tell a Coherent Story”, as we're plunged right into the middle of some anonymous mountain valley or something, with Moroha staring down Yawaragi, telling her cousins that there's some major beef going back three whole years that needs settling. If you don't recognize who this woman is, she's one of the Wolf Tribe members who has appeared exactly one time in the series before now, in a single frame from the very end of last-week's episode.

It honestly feels like something got supremely screwed up in the show's pre-production, and the Yashahime staff realized that they needed to cut an episode right out of the middle of the run, so they took the final scenes from the episode that led up to this climactic showdown between Moroha and Yawaragi, cut everything else that came before it, and slapped it on to the beginning of “Double-Edged Moroha”. Maybe that would explain the seemingly arbitrary placement of the Big Reveal episode from last week? The way it was written meant it could have been aired at almost any time and made an equal amount of sense (read: Not a whole lot), and the only information from “Farewell Under the Lunar Eclipse” that ties into “Double-Edged Moroha” at all is that Moroha ended up with Kouga and the wolves when her parents got sucked into the Black Pearl. If we hadn't gotten that single shot of Moroha being left to the wolves by Hachi, then “Double-Edged Moroha” would have come across as completely nonsensical. As it stands, it's now only 95% nonsense, which is technically an improvement. Good job, I guess?

If you couldn't tell, this was yet another episode of Yashahime that made me absolutely furious with how poorly written and executed it was, but in order to fully explain why, I'll need to cover the events of “Double-Edged Moroha” in chronological order, because the flashback-structure of the episode is stupid and pointless. We begin with the very last flashback, which shows us how Yawaragi attempted to train Moroha in the art of mastering her demonic transformations. We later learn that Kagome apparently placed a seal on these powers in some scene that we never got to actually see because the show was too busy failing at Towa and Setsuna's backstories, but Yawaragi decided to give Moroha the power to transform into Beniyasha with the rouge. Yawaragi then spends years yelling at Moroha for relying on the rouge too much and warning her about how too many transformations will result in her becoming a permanently bloodthirsty monster, so, uh, great call there, Yawaragi. Really thought that one through.

Anyways, one of the days Moroha goes berserk with her Beniyasha self and ends up calling down the wrath of a horde of

terribly-animated Birds of Paradise

before passing out. Instead of doing the logical thing and running away, Yawaragi just sort of stands there and decides they're screwed. That's when a weasel man (who is very helpfully named “Weasel Man”) wanders into frame from literally nowhere and offers to sell Yawaragi the Armor of the Iron Rat he's wearing, so that she can blow up the Birds of Paradise and whatnot. Not only is the completely random appearance of this obviously sketchy weasel not draw Yawaragi's suspicions at all, she also doesn't seem to find it odd that the guy can't even remove the armor himself without getting another person to unlock it with a key. Keep in mind that, for the entire duration of this stupid, stupid conversation, Yawaragi could have very easily just run away from all those birds and hid in a cave or something, but no, she casually takes the armor from the weasel, and wouldn't you know it, the darned thing is cursed to eventually crush its wearer to death unless they pay an exorbitant fee to the smithy rats for another key.

This is, to put it mildly, a very silly chain of events that do not paint Yawaragi in the smartest light, but we just have to roll with it, because that set of Iron-Rat Armor is precisely why Moroha has found herself sold into indentured servitude for the last three years. You see, Yawaragi decided that Moroha needed to complete the “crucible of Kodoku”, which has the eleven-year-old fighting a horde of demons in a spooky cave by herself to…get stronger, and master fighting without relying on Beniyasha, somehow? Yawaragi claims that Moroha needs to absorb the powers of the strongest demon in the cave, but she definitely did not do that, and we've never seen any of these so-called disastrous consequences of the Beniyasha transformation so far, which makes the entire venture basically pointless for our little heroine. For Yawaragi's part, the whole thing seems to have been an excuse to do some gambling with Jyubei, because she previously lost a bunch of ryou in the demon gambling house, which one apparently has to travel through in order to even get to the Crucible of Kodoku; also she needs, like, thirteen Ryou in order to buy a key for the armor that is going to eventually kill her. All of this leads to Jyubei offering to buy Moroha as his own little bounty-hunting slave, which Yawaragi accepts instantaneously, and there you have it: The ridiculous, contrived, and ultimately meaningless explanation for why Moroha has been trying to buy her way out of debt for three years.

Then, the second flashback, which is actually the most recent chronologically, shows us how it took Yawaragi three whole years to get to that damned hidden village of rats, only to discover that Konton arrived just beforehand and killed all of them. Whoopsie! We even get a nice shot of a dead rat mother cradling the corpse of her rat child – a weirdly dark moment that Yashahime certainly hasn't earned or anything – just to remind you that these Four Perils are super evil and powerful (despite the fact that they keep getting their asses kicked by a trio of teenagers who can barely be bothered to acknowledge their existence). Konton makes a deal with Yawaragi that he'll hand over the key if she kills Moroha and the others, and she accepts. “But!” Yashahime then asks, “Is she really going to betray her adopted daughter figure? Or is Yawaragi preparing Moroha for the final and most important lesson of her training?”

The answer is clearly supposed to be that second one, but Yashahime is just so goddamn bad at even the simplest character writing that the point doesn't land. Throughout all of these flashbacks, Moroha and Yawaragi have been dueling one-on-one, with Towa and Setsuna being told to sit uselessly on the sidelines, and Yawaragi keeps insisting that Moroha use her “creative imagination” to beat her, instead of relying on the rouge. This kind of falls flat when Moroha's victory just comes from her busting out a new special move, the Crimson Dragon Wave, which is neither a creative or imaginative resolution to the fight. Every Yashahime fight boils down to some combination of the girls' different special attacks, so why is this any different?

Way late in the episode, Konton suddenly teleports into the fight to gloat at Yawaragi. Nobody else really notices or acknowledges Konton's arrival, though you'd think this is the point where Towa and Setsuna would get off their butts and do something, because it isn't like Moroha's honor would be besmirched by kicking Konton's ass again. The show even forgets to include Konton in the next couple of shots of Yawaragi reacting to Moroha's attacks, even though it is absolutely critical that he be standing right behind her, because when Moroha unleashes the Crimson Dragon Wave, she whips behind Konton to hold him down in an act of self-sacrifice.

Here's the kicker, though: The guy can teleport. Yawaragi just saw him do this, and not thirty seconds earlier! So it shouldn't be surprising to anybody when Konton uses his Rainbow Pearl powers to teleport out of Yawaragi's arms and escapes anyways while the other girls throw some useless attacks at him. So, to recap: The audience learns that Yawaragi created the whole issue of Moroha's Beniyasha transformation in the first place, and she then spent years fruitlessly attempting to undo the problem, including purchasing a deadly set of cursed armor from a random weasel that was traipsing about the forest one day. All of this led to Moroha being sold to Jyubei, which was ultimately pointless because Yawaragi just ended up being coerced into attacking Moroha by Konton, and the one thing that might have made this entire cavalcade of terminally stupid decisions worthwhile – killing Konton – ended up being foiled by random Rainbow Pearl Powers. In other words, absolutely nothing of importance was learned, the girls are not one step closer to any of their goals, and Moroha inadvertently murdered Yawaragi for no reason. It is positively stunning when Yawaragi dies, and the show has the gall to play the moment off like some huge, emotional payoff…except Moroha is more or less fine by the time the credits roll.

Good Lord, this show is continuing to outdo itself in all of the worst ways. I won't damn it with the non-score of Episode 14, because “Double-Edged Moroha” at least has some halfway-decent looking action to try and distract you from how bad everything else is. I did, however, spend far too much time teaching myself how to use image-editing software so I could slap together this dumb meme that perfectly sums up my feelings about Yashahime at the moment. That said, it was probably more time and effort than anybody working on the show spent going over its sorry excuse of a script.

[songtoyou]

Chapter Four: Mission Hills - Part Two

Would You Call That Love

Pairing: Chris Evans x Raina Morrison (OC)

Rating: PG to PG-13 (Might be 18+ for some chapters)

Description: There was always that one person Chris Evans tended to turn to when he was not in a committed relationship, Raina Morrison. He could confide in her about things going on in his life that he did not feel comfortable talking to his family or close friends about. Chris and Raina were able to establish a way to openly communicate with one another, but also being respectful of the other’s time and needs. It was the only constant “relationship” he had, but without all the nonsense of trying to build a life together. A “friends with benefits” situation. However, what happens when Chris starts rethinking his “relationship” with Raina and if either are willing to pursue something more?

Chapter Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sexual content (oral with female receiving)

Word Count: 2,934

Author’s Note: We are still in 2014. It dives deeper into Chris and Raina’s friendship and how it became sexual. The next chapter we will return to the present time. This was partially proof-read. 

Feedback is always welcomed. If you want to be tagged, please let me know.

Sadly, I do not know Chris Evans or anyone in his family and this is just a fictional take on his life. I do not permit this fic to be reposted on other platforms.  

Updated for grammar and punctuation edits.

As Raina had expected, sex with Chris was amazing. He knew exactly what to do when it came to pleasuring a woman. The fact that he could go back and forth between being soft and sensual to dominating and rough was mind-blowing. Raina was sure she had blacked out a couple of times because the orgasms were so intense. For Chris, he could not remember the last time he came so hard. He made sure to give it his all when it came to giving Raina pleasure. He was not going to half-ass anything. 

The two were in post-coital bliss—however, both knew that it would not be able to last. Neither wanted to leave the bubble they created and enter the real world. The world where they had to be mindful of how they acted around each other. The world where they were always expected to keep their guard up and be cautious. The world where everything came down to PR and playing a role the media and fans tacked them. 

“I don’t want this to end,” Chris spoke up suddenly.

Raina turned her head, so she was looking at him. “What do you mean?”

Turning on his side, Chris stared at the woman next to him. He loved her. He genuinely loved her. “This has been incredible. Part of me doesn’t want it to be a one-time thing. But the sensible part of me is scared that this might ruin our friendship.”

“It isn’t,” Raina confirmed to help put Chris at ease. She could tell his anxiety was trying to take control and make him feel guilty. “Nothing is going to come between us, Chris. Us having sex…well, I don’t know about you, but it felt natural. It felt right. There was no awkwardness. I felt safe and relaxed with you. I don’t want this to end either. However, I don’t think either of us is ready to be in a relationship. You just got out of your relationship with Minka. My breakup with Ben wasn’t that long ago either. We’re too fragile right now. Plus, after today, we both have to go back to work. We won’t have the proper foundation to really build a boyfriend/girlfriend relationship.”

“I know. You’re right. So, what do we do?”

At that moment, the two friends came up with a plan to forge ahead with a friend with benefits relationship. Both knew it was risky. However, Chris and Raina were willing to take on that risk. 

“We will have to establish some guidelines to follow. I am not going into this without any security. For example, never being judgmental can one of the guidelines, along with being open with communication,” Raina suggested. “We don’t have to have everything sorted out now. I think it would best to take this slow and make sure we have everything needed in place before we officially go forward with this notion.”

“I concur,” Chris agreed. 

“What time is it?”

Chris turned to check his phone. “A little after 3 a.m. Do you think everyone is still out partying?”

“Knowing this crew, probably,” said Raina as she got out of bed and put on a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. “I’m going to go check if Mercedes is in her room.”

When Raina left the room, Chris proceeded to look through his phone. A couple of new posts in the group text with his Avenger coworkers; all wished him a happy birthday. He replied with a quick thank you and told them he would see them all soon. 

“Her room and Tara’s room are still empty,” Raina shared as she entered the room. Looking around, she saw Chris’s clothes scattered all over the floor. “I think you should head out before they see you. I don’t…I don’t want them to know that we…I want to keep this between us.”

Chris sat up to lean his back against the headboard. He understood where Raina was coming from. “I hear ya. Don’t worry; I won’t tell Scott about tonight. I can picture him freaking out and giving me a lecture,” said Chris getting out of bed to put on his clothes.

When he was dressed, he followed Raina out of the room and to the front door. 

“What time do we need to meet up for Top Golf?” asked Chris as he leaned against the front door.

“Our reservation is at noon,” Raina reminded him. She pulled Chris in for one last hug and said, “Happy Birthday, Chris. I hope that tonight was special for you. And I mean the whole night, not just the part where we…you know.”

“Well, that part might be my favorite,” Chris declared with a cheeky grin and gave Raina a soft kiss on the lips.

“Sleep tight, Evans.”

“Nighty night, Raina.”

October 18, 2014

Four months had passed since Chris’s birthday party in Vegas. It was also the last time Chris and Raina were intimate with one another. Chris had finished filming the second Avengers movie back in August and took some time off to spend with his family. Raina was still touring around the world with her new album. After finishing up the European leg of the tour, she was in for a much-needed break. 

Before Chris and Raina were to head to China for the Mission Hill Pro-Am Golf Tournament, the singer would spend some time in Boston with Chris and his family. He picked Raina up at the airport that Saturday and headed to his mom’s house for dinner. 

“Is your mom making her spaghetti? I have been craven it so bad, you would not believe,” said Raina as Chris drove from the airport.

“Yeah, she’s got it all ready. How are you craving it? You were just in Italy?” Chris pointed out.

“Your mom’s spaghetti is just better,” declared Raina.

“That is true.” 

The drive from the airport to Lisa’s house did not take too long due to the abundance of conversations between the two friends occupying their time. Chris shared his experience at the Toronto Film Festival, where he debuted his first directorial feature film, ‘Before We Go.’ “I know my movie isn’t perfect, but I am happy with the final product. The film is supposed to be simplistic and about these two characters forming a friendship throughout the film. I…I get scared that people are going to have these high expectations and get disappointed if it doesn’t live up to them,” Chris admitted to Raina.

Raina let out a quiet sigh. She knew Chris would display his anxiety about the film. He was a perfectionist and, like most people, cared about what people thought of him and his art. 

“Chris… you’re going to have so many opportunities to show the world what you can do. You put yourself out there and stepped out of your comfort zone. Not a lot of people are willing to do that, but you did. So, stop worrying so much. Don’t read the reviews from critics. They don’t matter. All that matters is if you are happy with the end product.”

“I am! I worked fucking hard on that film. Everyone did. And I am proud of it,” said Chris as he pulled into the driveway of his mother’s house.

“Then that is all that matters,” Raina replied as she got out of the car with Chris following. “Like, seriously, if I stressed over every album review or placement on the charts, I’d never get anything accomplished. 

When Raina stepped to the front door, it flew open with Lisa standing with her arms wide open ready to embrace the younger woman and her eldest son.

“My babies!” exclaimed Lisa. She wrapped her arms around Raina in a tight hug. “Come on inside. Everyone is in the kitchen. Kids! Chris and Raina are here!” 

They could hear the sound of Miles and Ethan’s footsteps as the boys ran from the kitchen and tackled Chris to the ground. “Okay, okay. You gotta let me up, kiddos. Go tackle Raina,” Chris ordered. 

Ethan ran towards Raina for a hug. “Oh, my goodness. What happened to my little Ethan? You’re so big now,” she acknowledged as she scooped Ethan up into her arms. 

“Did you bring us presents, Auntie Rai?” Ethan boldly asked as she sat him down to then pick up Miles

“Presents? Is that all I’m good for you guys?” Raina teased. Of course, she brought presents for the kids. Raina had no siblings of her own, so she did not have any nieces or nephews spoiled. Chris was more than happy to share. 

“Come on, kids. Let’s head to the kitchen and get some ready for dinner,” Lisa instructed. 

“We’ll open presents after dinner,” said Raina as she put Miles down and walked into the kitchen. Both boys following close behind and never leaving Raina’s side. 

After being engulfed in hugs from Carly, Scott, and Shanna, the family sat down to dinner. While the surname Evans was rooted in Irish, the family was 100-percent Italian in their mannerisms: always talking with their hands, very boisterous, loud but pleasant, and happy. Their energy was infectious and endearing. 

“I can’t believe how big Stella has gotten. She was so tiny the last time I saw her,” Raina spoke to Carly while the little girl smiled and reached for food on people’s plates.

Conversations flowed, along with the wine for the adults. It was a nice setting for Chris to see. He loved his family and was grateful to have this moment with his best friend.  

When Chris and Raina left Lisa’s house, the two continued to work together to develop proper guidelines both would adhere to protect their friendship from any fallout. 

Raina opted to include that both would need to be transparent with one another. 

“Overall, we have to be honest with one another. If you or I feel like there is an issue that needs to be brought up, we have to say it. We can’t keep it inside and let it fester,” suggested Raina as she lounged on Chris’s bed in his home.

“Agree. I think we also need to include a guideline about not being judgmental. Like, if I am dating someone or if you are dating someone, neither of us can act like an asshole towards one another or the other’s partner at the time,” Chris replied with his suggestion. He had just taken a shower, so he was only wearing sweats, no shirt.

“I 100% agree,” Raina nodded. “I would like to include that we are open about what is considered off-limits and what is acceptable when it comes to our preferences and likes during sex. I don’t mind being adventurous,” she added suggestively.

Chris let out a boisterous laugh. “I always knew you were a big slut,” he teased.

“Well, you are a slut too, sweetie. But that is okay. I’m not judging you,” joked Raina. She always loved riling Chris up a bit.

“What have you done that is out of the box, sexually?” Chris asked. He desperately wanted to know. It was not like he and Raina had never talked about sex. In fact, he tended to be incredibly open with Raina when it came to talking about sex. She was willing to share her sexual history with him. 

“I really don’t mind giving up control to my partner. But I can be dominant if need be. I’ve told you all this before,” Raina admitted honestly. She knew she could trust Chris to keep her secrets. She had no shame in telling him her sexual fantasies. “What do you provide especially for your…concubines?”

“Concubines? Throwing out the big words, are we.” 

“You’re one to talk, Mr. I-Incorporate-SAT-Words-In-Every-One-Of-My-Sentences. Tell me, do you have a world of the day calendar posted next to your bed? You make sure to check every day, Mr. Thesaurus?” kidded Raina. “No, but seriously, what are holding back from me, Mr. Evans?” she asked while climbing on top of Chris’s lap. It did not take long for Raina to begin grinding against him while trailing kisses up his neck to ear.

“You really do love taking control, don’t you, little girl,” Chris pointed out as he rubbed his hands over Raina’s ass. “But here is something you don’t quite get…” he said and immediately flipped Raina onto her back. 

With Chris hovering over Raina, he took her hands and put them above her head. “I like to be in control,” he declared and captured her lips with his. “Let me show what I can provide you. Don’t move those hands, now,” Chris instructed and began taking off Raina’s leggings and underwear. 

Chris was not going to rush this, but instead, was willing to be patient and prolong providing Raina pleasure for as long as possible. When it came to giving a woman head, Chris was a pro. However, with Raina, this was more intimate and would take their friend with benefits agreement to a whole other level. He teased her clit, then would trail kisses up and down her inner thighs. 

When he finally began using his tongue, Raina jerked and gasped. “Oh my God! That feels so good.” Chris had to hold Raina down by putting one of his large hands on her stomach. It took all of Raina’s self-control to keep her hands put and not grab Chris’s hair. 

“I need to come!” Raina shouted after Chris inserted a finger and began pumping in and out of her. 

“So soon,” he teased and continued pumping, this time adding another finger. “Nah, not yet, sweetheart. I’m not quite done tasting you.”

October 21, 2014

It was sad saying goodbye to the Evans clan, especially when they began crying. He was worried that Chris and Raina would not be around to trick or treat with him. 

“Hey buddy, I will be back before then to celebrate Halloween together. I promise we will go trick or treating,” Chris consoled his youngest nephew.

“Can Raina come with us?” the little boy asked.

“Heck yeah, I’m coming tricking or treating with you guys,” confirmed Raina, to which Miles replied happily by jumping for joy and hugging her tightly. 

The flight from Boston to Dongguan, China, for the Mission Hills Golf Club Tournament was thirty-five hours, including two layovers, one at JFK Airport and another at Heathrow. Raina was happy not to have to take the trip alone. She and Chris were accommodated with first-class tickets, so traveling the long distance came with perks.

“Hey, thanks for agreeing to stay a little longer in Boston for Halloween. The kids really adore you. I know you must have planned on seeing your dad while you got some time off,” Chris uttered as he got comfortable in his plane seat. They finally boarded the plane on their second layover.

“It’s no problem. I talk to my dad all of the time, so he’s doing alright,” said Raina and added, “He has actually…began dating again.”

Chris already knew this as George had asked him for dating advice. George had asked Chris not to mentioned it to Raina as he worried it would upset his daughter. Chris understood and kept his mouth shut. 

“I mean…that is a good thing…right? He’s getting back out there…moving on…healing… that’s good. You’re good with it, right?” Chris rambled on nervously. The last thing he wanted for Raina to be upset or in a bad mood for the duration of their trip.

“It’s weird. The whole thing is weird. I don’t really want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have brought it up. I gotta use the bathroom,” mumbled Raina and got up from her seat.

“Raina, don’t be upset,” Chris interjected.

“I’m not upset. I really do have to use the bathroom because I drank all that water during the last layover,” she said, making her way to the bathroom.

As Chris waited for Raina to return, he asked one of the flight attendants for a Dirty Shirley, his travel companion’s favorite drink, and Stella Artois for himself, along with some snacks. He also pulled out his laptop and looked through his movie library to see what would be good to watch. Chris ended up choosing one of his favorite Disney movies, Robin Hood, which was also one of Raina’s favorites. 

When Raina returned to her seat, she saw the set-up Chris and was given her Dirty Shirley. The deliciously sweet drink definitely helped lift her spirits. 

“We have about eighteen hours until we land in China, let’s just get drunk and watch Disney movies for the time being,” Chris suggested, and he raised his beer to toast with Raina. 

“You’re such a sweetheart, Evans. I can’t deal with you sometimes.”

The two friends drank and ate some snacks while making it through three movies before eventually falling asleep. When the plane finally landed in Dongguan, China, both were ready to put on their “game face” for the week. It was business as usual with PR events and gatherings. 

Chris and Raina were not worried about rumors spreading within their respective fandoms about the two being at the same event; they were used to it by now. During the actual Mission Hills golf tournament, Raina and Chris would purposely stand close to one another or walk side-by-side with their arms around each other at parties. Both knew they were playing with fire, but in the end, Chris and Raina were having fun and enjoying being with one another.

They were two touchy-feely friends on the surface, but behind closed doors, they were so much more.

[jackbabewang]

Chapter 2 — Bad habits

Word count ‧ 3,730

Chapter summary ‧ You must be out of your mind to think that he actually cared.

Masterlist

You finally got your eyes to cooperate to stay open and looked up to see a silhouette of a man in very close proximity with you. Your heart leaped to your throat, suddenly remembered that you were in Yoonoh’s room. 

“Jung… Yoonoh,” you said his name in a faltering and trembling voice. You dared not to move and stared dumbly at him. The touch of his hand on your bare skin sent streaks of fire racing up and down your body. 

He seemed to hear your voice then his movements came to a complete stop. You felt his breath warm on your neck, heard his heavy breathing in your ear. 

“Keep going, or not?” he asked, his voice deeper than before, huskier, and filled with unspoken desire. 

Your nervous system shut down, but quickly came to life in a rush of heat. Your knees trembled and your stomach clenched. Your breath was uneven when your lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came out. It was intense and then suddenly he pulled back and lifted the blanket and made his way to the bathroom in the darkness. 

You had no idea what time it was when you woke up last night, but it was an absolute certainty that your eyes were wide smack open till the next morning. And after Yoonoh went into the bathroom, he had been out of his room since. Where did he go?

You dilly-dallied, slipped out of bed, padded to the bathroom and damn—your head was swimming with dizziness along with pounding from the two or three hours of sleep. You stood before the mirror, you could see the stark evidence of the episode from the night before—that your pyjamas looked a bit crumpled. You had no idea how you were going to face him any later. 

It was still early in the morning, not quite seven, your parents had not gotten up yet. All your clothes were in that room and you were afraid that you could not get in there at the moment. You remembered you had clothes hung outside that you washed yesterday and so you went downstairs to get a fresh set of clothes. 

Chop, chop, chop. Slice, slice, slice. The sound of the knife cutting through and landing against the wooden board drew you into the doorway, onto the threshold of the kitchen. Assuming your mother had woken up rather early. You opened your mouth—to call out “mom”—but the word was suddenly stuck in your throat as soon as you came eyeball-to-eyeball with the last person you wanted to see just then. You jolted with the shock and spun on your heels preparing to sprint away. 

“Come here.” 

The second after you whirled, Yoonoh called out to you faintly. Did he not feel awkward at all? 

Right, it was him who took advantage of you, how could he possibly feel awkward about it.

Reluctantly you turned back around, somehow keeping your face perfectly calm. “My! You’re up early today.”

He brought some thinly sliced spring onion into a small bowl, without any expression on his face he echoed, “When was I never earlier than you?”

Pfft! Only very slight bit, what’s there to be hoity-toity about?

“Wash your hands.” He commanded. 

“What for?” 

He did not answer but turned around to continue what he had been doing without giving a damn on you. On instinct you rolled your eyes and padded to the sink. You ran the water and held your hands under the stream, rubbing palm to palm as an indication whatsoever before turning off the faucet. Yoonoh swiveled his head rather abruptly and stared at your hands, “Wash with soap.”

It’s not like you’re a kid anymore, so what’s with the soap? Killing bacteria? You grumbled internally but not wanting to waste time and energy bickering over petty things so you had it his way and washed your hands once again with an antibacterial soap. 

As you dried your hands with soft strokes of the towel, Yoonoh pointed to one, two, three and four eggs in the basket then said, “Peel the eggs.”

After all that fuss made about hygiene, was it his germophobia acting up then? Only just peeling eggs and you thought he wanted you to knead a dough instead.

You obliged without uttering a syllable and with every murky shell that peeled off you felt your cheeks grew warmer. 

That… bared in its all glory… last night you shared a bed with someone as equally au naturel, and… 

Stop, stop! 

You became even more flushed than a minute ago, with bright red spots appearing on your cheeks. Yet Yoonoh noticed every detail with his sharpness as Hawkeye’s, giving no quarter that he pointed out, “What’s with your face matching the colour of pig’s blood early in the morning?”

He could’ve gone further exaggerating the metaphoricity; it would not hurt any less either way. 

Noticing your silence, he seasoned his remark with malice, “Or, you’re shy about what happened last night?” 

“Hmph,” he smirked, without another word he spun around and poured a little olive oil in the pan. 

Pervert. 

You did not want him to see your face, your embarrassed reaction to his comment so you could only turn your back to him as well and not pick an argument with him.

After breakfast, your parents had to catch the return flight back to Ulsan and so Yoonoh drove them to the airport. In wishing you goodbye, your mother held onto your hands, and over and over she was only concerned about Yoonoh that you might not take good care of him, leaving him to starve or freeze or wither up at leisure.

You were certain the woman standing before you was, indeed, not your biological mother. 

Until your parents had settled in at the boarding gate then you returned home. As Yoonoh drove past a grocery store, you suddenly remembered that you were out of toothpaste so you made him stopped by. 

Afraid that he might get impatient with waiting, you headed straight to the sales assistant for the placement of the product, impulsively grabbing a box of toothpaste and checked out at the counter. 

Right after you walked out through the automatic doors labeled “Exit Only” you saw an oh-so-slim sylph sashaying towards the direction of Yoonoh’s car. The man got down, apparently completely clueless what he said to her that the very next moment she was in the passenger seat. 

A message came in, signaled by the slight vibration of the device in your hand, from Yoonoh: Something came up, had to leave first. Get yourself a ride home.

He drove away and you watched until his car was out of sight. Gingerly you moved your thumbs over the screen, typing out a reply: Ok.

In the center of your palm laid a dull silver coin of 500won of the amount of change. It was cool and, weirdly, heavy. 

Five years ago, 500won would have taken you through the main areas of downtown of Seoul. But now, 500won worth nothing to what seemed to be the cheapest transportation in the entire world. 

During your summer break from middle school, you and your little companions would walk miles to travel around the city and returned on foot evening just to reserve that 500won for snacks. The distance of those journeys was never concerned, surprisingly you did not feel tired at all be it three hours, or that was because you were snacking along the way. 

But, as you grew older, and supposed to be tougher, thirty minutes of walking already had you feeling tired and panting, the soles of your feet hurt. 

It took you a little over an hour to walk back home from the airport. When you finally reached the front door and opened it, you could have just sit in the foyer and would not move a finger for hours on end. The fact that you made it into the house with persistence was enough to say that you were absolutely soiled. 

A wave of utter exhaustion overtook you, and eventually you felt sleepy so you took a quick shower and went to bed. Till five thirty in the evening, you woke up. For so long you slept it was the reason that you had not sleep a wink last night. 

You got up and filled yourself a glass of water. You gently raised your head high enough so you could drink without choking. The water was cool and refreshing and you sipped a few mouthfuls. You had not realized how thirsty you were, then your stomach grumbled, or how hungry. And so you made yourself a bowl of noodles then washed the breakfast dishes. 

Yoonoh was not home yet, you had no idea what had he been doing or where was he with Sooyoung, or he might not return even… 

Tidying up the living room after, dishwashing, you made your way upstairs again. Had you been sleeping all the afternoon through, you did not feel signs of drowsiness. 

Flipping through pages, reading passages randomly, yet you could not commit to reading the book in its entirety, so you pulled out your phone. 

Ever since you graduated from college, you had lost contact with many of your friends except for your dear Jennie. And you called her for long, giggly, pointless chats about the minutiae of life, not knowing when or how the conversation led to Yoonoh. 

Jennie: Honestly, about your marriage to him, it’s kinda unbelievable, but bound to happen.

Y: What was bound to happen? 

Jennie: Even though I don’t know him well, he seemed to be a cold person to me, it’s the truth. I couldn’t deny that I wasn’t shaken when I found out in high school that we have a senior that’s smart and so good-looking. But every single time when I greeted him he just ignored me, and I’m like ‘forget about it’ and moved on. 

Jennie: But then again, I’m not the only shameless one. A lot of girls tried to talk to him and got ignored, except you. Every time you walked past him and need not to say anything, his eyes went to you instinctively. 

Jennie: And I’d also realized that you’re the only person he talked to, that’s the only time his poker face showed expressions, which is why we’d all thought that out of all the women in the world, he’d choose you. 

Frankly speaking, Jennie transferred to different school in 12th grade, she had no idea of the presence of another. 

Y: Was his face like this every time he saw me? 🙄 This kinda expression was it? 😒 

Jennie: Dang, those two. Accurate!

Y: … 

And how did they even perceive that as signs of interest?

Jennie descended from a family of scholars, her father an archeologist while her mother a college professor, eventually their thinking was old fashioned—positively feudal. Watching their daughter of nearing thirty and had no male relation of potential son-in-law, they were undeniably concerned. 

When Jennie was still in New Zealand, never had they ever brought up the topic in their phone calls. However merely returned for a few days, the poor girl had been getting her ear chewed off. 

She grumbled, “Had I known it’s gonna be like this, I wouldn’t come back.”

Gloating over her misery, you pricked the bubbles of truth, “I guess your parents were afraid that you’ll find yourself a kiwi husband so they never pressed you about it. Now that they’ve coaxed you to come back, of course they’re gonna seize the opportunity to settle you down with a domestic spouse.” 

She banged her head against the table, “That’s racist, racist! Why’s my life so miserable?”

You lifted the cup of fresh coffee to your lips, blowing on it prior to taking a sip, not even trying to console her at this point. 

Your supposed “hang out” for the day was because of her desperately crying for help earlier in the morning that her parents had arranged a blind date for her. 

She had never done anything like that, which was why she was extra nervous and dragged you out from your house to be that… third wheel. 

The more she talked about it the more she grew restless and finally she slumped motionless on the table as if her body was hollowed out. You intended to remind her of her hair getting into the coffee, but before you could even speak up, a hand came out of nowhere and brushed out her messy strands. 

Assuming that it was you, she lifted her head and grabbed ahold of the hand, then as if feeling an unusual sensation, aggressively surprised, “Who are you?”

The hand belonged to a remarkably handsome man with dark eyes and hair; well behaved, very courteous, very well-mannered, radiating all—Jennie’s designated partner for the blind date. 

Maybe he was equally unfamiliar with the social engagement which he had also brought along a company as emotional support. 

Therefore, what was supposed to be a blind date for two, appeared to be for a pair now. 

Jennie’s partner, Kim Doyoung, came from a family of scholars as well; his friend went by the name Qian Kun, whose parents ran a small business. 

You were struggling to manage a conversation with Kun and at the same time observing the other two, seemed like she already had the urge to run for her life, meanwhile the man was more of a gentleman that there was no way for the usually bold Jennie to lie her desire to escape. 

As for the impression that Doyoung gave you… it was a positive that he had taken an interest in her. 

No no no, but the way he looked at Jennie was definitely like… he was gazing upon his lover.

It gave an indication that they had known each other for a long time. 

Interesting. 

Kun was untalkative, but he was polite, the kind of person that would only answer questions, not offer more and kept silent when not. Though he lent a sense of comfort and harmony, but lacked existence at the same time. Thankfully he was born charming that even when he did not speak, people would almost stop and stare at him. 

More than a little while at the cafe, Doyoung offered to buy dinner for everyone. Jennie had wanted to reject however under the supervision of her mother with a text message querying about their progress, she gritted her teeth and made it happen in case she would be having her parents breathing down her neck.

Doyoung only ate a little and then stuffing Jennie with so much food that it was visibly to you that she had lost patience with the man. 

It was yet the end, that you proceeded to the next round at a karaoke bar. Somewhat dubious that Jennie had reached the limit of her tolerance, or she intended him to retreat. Who used to have a wonderful singing voice was intentionally going off pitch, and picked a trot song that she belted out from deep within her soul. 

It was to the point that you, being a tone-deaf, could not help but grew annoyed at her awful singing. 

She was rather ferocious that night that she bitterly suggested to compete Doyoung in drinking. Clearly she was a lightweight but insisted the attendant to serve bottles and bottles of soju. 

Your eyes bulged in surprise as you stared at the dozen of alcohol, you contemplated warning her but out of the blue you registered the changing gaze of Jennie on Doyoung. 

She cracked open a bottle of soju and slammed it on the table with a loud smack. She looked at him provocatively, speaking, “If you get through me tonight, I’ll try to date you for good, deal?”

Both you and Kun gaped at the pair in silence. There was a ghost of a smile crossed Doyoung’s face then he reached over to snatched the bottle from her grip, “You don’t have to drink, I’ll finish all of these, as long as you don’t go back on your word.”

Next thing you all witnessed him drowning bottle to bottle, ravenously. Till the third bottle, he was unable to swallow anymore, clear transparent liquor escaped from the corner of his mouth. Jennie roared, “Don’t let it drip!” 

He shot a glance at her then ushered Kun to bring him another bottle. 

Kun said nothing, and did not bother advising him, without a word he fetched another dozen of soju. You watched him as a small smirk crept onto your face, Doyoung was discreet in choosing friends, you thought. 

Specifically how many bottles he had downed, you had lost count of it. He was completely wasted and could not even sit steadily. 

You could not bear to watch another moment more and wanted to convince Jennie to make him stop, but in that sense, it meant that she would have to raise the white flag and date him for real. But acknowledging the cruel fact that she had not had even a slither of interest in him, you gave up instead after multiple failed attempts. 

In a way everything just came to an end, there was not an outcome between Jennie and Doyoung. However on the way back, you could sense the bad omen in your friend. 

You kept your voice calm and neutral, but there was clear teasing in your tone, “That was a difficult one, seems like you can’t get rid of him any way.” 

Jennie went silent for a moment while she switched gears mentally, “At first I thought he was familiar but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly who he was until I saw that he was left handed during dinner then I suddenly remembered that he’s that douchebag Kim Dongyoung.” 

“Dongyoung? That sounds familiar.” You heard somewhere but could not remember the sudden recollection. 

She said, “During high school, the asshole that I had a crush on!” 

Now, hearing that from her own lips, you came to the sudden realization and a blurry silhouette of a guy popped inside your head. For quite a while that Jennie dated him in high school, later it was because the counterpart was tangled with another girl that they broke up after. Then Jennie went overseas, and the guy called Dongyoung vanished into thin air, nowhere to be found. 

“But why is he called Doyoung now?”

“It was some superstitious belief I guess. His family is weird.” 

“Seems like he was hoping to rekindle the past romantic flames. Do you still have feelings for him?” you asked. 

She answered disdainfully, “We were immature back then, I’d already lost whatever I had for him.” 

“To me it’s like he couldn’t forget about you though.” Honestly you could tell that she had not moved on entirely from him, otherwise how could she recognized him as the Dongyoung back then? 

“That’s his problem. I don’t dwell on the past, especially one that’s tainted.” When she spoke of the word ‘tainted’, she muttered between clenched teeth, which did not sound nice at all. 

You became silent then, not wanting to jog her through bad memories. However you could not help but be reminded of the diminishing figure of Yoonoh and Sooyoung that day as the distance between them increased by a yard per mile. Suddenly you could feel the morose mood within. 

Jennie drove you back home then buzzed off with a simple “goodnight”. You knew that she was definitely going for speeding down the road to get her mind off. 

From afar you had already noticed that the lights were on, for sure Yoonoh was home. When you made your entrance and changed your shoes, there you saw him on the couch. 

You were still sulky and resentful and bitchy so you decided to ignore him at the moment. You changed into your fluffy slippers and went straight for the stairs and up them. 

“Where have you been, why do you smell like alcohol all over?” He sat on the couch, suddenly threw a question with obvious ill judgement. 

Subconsciously you took a whiff of your own self, and retorted, “I didn’t drink.”

“What’s with the strong odor if you didn’t?”

“Probably when helping Doyoung…” you paused, previously you had made a mental note to ignore him at all costs, yet you were explaining yourself to him?

He sure knew how to pick up important points, “Who is Doyoung?”

You pursed your lips, had you wanted to explain to him, but questioned back instead, “Why do you care?”

His face went dark immediately, “You’ve been with that guy this whole day?”

“So what if I was?”

“It’s fine, but I have to remind you now that you’re labelled as me, Jung Yoonoh’s wife, you better not try something that puts me in shame,” he said, coldly. 

Oh, so that’s it?

What were you exactly wishing for? Doing this deliberately, intentionally to get him misunderstood. You sure were out of your mind. 

“Alright.” You were too tired to fight with him, mentally tired, honestly you had began to get tired of this lifestyle as well. Two people who lived under the same roof and seeing the same face every morning, day in and day out, yet always fighting and hurting each other every time when mouths opened that you basically did not speak the same language. It was indeed tiring. 

As if he never thought that you would be easily compromised this time that he was stunned for a second, and just continued what he had been doing with nothing said. You did not stay any longer and went upstairs. 

In fact, all these years you both had cared too much about pride which caused this constant tension and friction in between. 

When one attacked another, there would be horrible and awful words as defensive comeback. 

Those hurtful words would end up hurting yourselves anyway. If you did not went all out your way to maliciously hurt others, how would it lead to harsh and cruel retaliation in the other part? 

As long as one first backed down and admitted defeat, eventually the other would stop before going too far. 

Both adults knew that, yet no one had the courage to let go of their pride and ego. 

[like-the-wings-of-butterflies]

Fate (Brian May x Reader) CHAP. 1

Summary: A series of events separate you from the people you care about, but fate miraculously brings you back to a close friend

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drinking + very minor angst

Word Count: 1,682

A/N: This feels a bit choppy and poorly written, but I worked too hard on it not to share it with you all. Please let me know what you think! ♡ (UPDATE 25/5/19: This fic is in the process of being a series! Another three parts are currently being written/edited so if you enjoyed this one, you can find the other parts on my masterpost) 

It was a Friday afternoon when fate decided to reunite you. On your way home from your morning shift at the cafe, for one reason or another you found yourself walking into the local music store, browsing over the hundreds of vinyls that sat stocked up in crates ready for other to enjoy. You were flicking through the cardboard covers, one at a time with a million thoughts buzzing through your head, when your hand landed on a particular record. After you pulled it out of the crate and went to expect it further in the light, a someone chirped beside you, “Not a bad choice if I do say myself.”

“‘Sheer Heart Attack,” You spoke, “Interesting name.”

“I’m sure you’d find the guitarist far more interesting.”

“You think so?” Finally peering up, the owner of the voice smiled at you.

“Hello (Y/N).”

“Brian!” You exclaimed, your voice raising a few octaves as you practically catapulted yourself into his arms. Brian had become a close friend in your university days, “Oh my God! I mean, how have you been? I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too Love. Things aren’t quite the same without you.”

He held you a bit tighter before he pulled away and picked up the record that’d been tossed on the floor in the midst of your excitement. “As excited as I am to see you, please don’t damage our work, this is only our third album.” He teased. 

The suddenness of your conversation startled you both, but yet it somehow it flowed so naturally. 

“This is yours? Since when have you been in a band?”

“Since a short while after you moved to America.”

“I see.” You responded, the atmosphere shifting slightly.

“If you’re free, maybe you could pay a visit at our show tonight? Meet the others and catch up a bit more? You do owe me some stories from your travels.” He encouraged.

“You’re playing tonight?”

“Of course, Rainbow Theatre, doors open at 7:00. I’ll be in the dressing room after the show, I’ll make sure someone keeps an eye out for you.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, “That’d be amazing Brian, I can’t wait.” You gushed, quickly, he pulled you into a hug before saying his goodbyes and dashing out the brick and mortar store with a spring in his step. Thank god he’d been running low on guitar picks or perhaps he wouldn’t have seen you at all. He had around five hours to squeeze in as much practice as he could and make sure the others were prepared too. Tonight, he didn’t want to impress anyone else but you.

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You arrived at the venue with plenty of time to spare, and found yourself only mildly intimidated by the sheer amount of people surrounding you. Luckily for you, time passed rather quickly, likely a product of your excitement. The light dimmed and you were momentarily deafened by the crowds cheers. When the lights turned on again, four figures dotted the stage. You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw the outfit Brian was wearing. Large, white flowing sleeves cascaded against a white form fitting shirt with thin horizontal lines. It was different from what he would usually wear, but it oddly suited him. You assumed the choice in costume had something to do with the lead singer, seeing as he was clad in a black bellbottom jumpsuit that exposed his chest. Certainly not the most traditional outfit choice for a rock band but unique nonetheless.

As soon as the music began however, you were starstruck. The layering of instruments and voices brought a warm, full feeling to your chest. The way they interacted with the crowd and their dynamic amongst each other was to be admired. Even by only knowing one of the four members, you knew that they had become a family. They were so comfortable with one another and seeing them in their element made you feel incredibly thankful to witness. Some of the songs sounded familiar, you must’ve heard them on the radio before without realising who they were produced by, but after tonight, you knew you’d be paying another visit to the record store rather soon.

When the show had ended, (much to your displeasure), you followed Brian’s instructions from earlier in the day, sneaking backstage and playing a few gentle knocks against the dressing room door. It creaked open only seconds later and a pair of hazel eyes met yours. “(Y/N)! Come in.” Brian wrapped an arm around you and began to introduce you to his bandmates. “(Y/N), this is Freddie, John and Roger. Everyone, I’d like you to meet (Y/N), an old friend of mine.”

You were very aware of the eyes drifting over the pair of you, along with the knowing look the three men shared as they noticed the placement of Brian’s hand on the middle of your back. The decided his hand was high enough to not be suggestive, but low enough to be testing the boundary of friends.

In attempt to ease the silence and shift the focus of the conversation, you spoke: “It’s lovely to meet you all.”

“You too (Y/N).” The brunette named John beamed, still plucking at the strings on his bass.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Roger queried, a drumstick rolling between the fingers of one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“I did,” You stated, truthfully. “I never seen anything quite like it, the four of you are wonderful together. You complement each other beautifully.”

“Would you look at that, I’m quite fond of her already.” Freddie exclaimed.

Roger walked beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder as he passed, “Careful (Y/N), I wouldn’t inflate his ego too much.” He responded, teasingly.

“Drinks anyone?” Brian offered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The evening went on, and you found yourself situated in the lounge of the bar. Brian was sitting closely to your right, almost protectively even though you assured him that his band mates were lovely and there was nothing to be worried about. As you were speaking with John, his long, thin fingers gently intertwined with yours and much to Brian’s surprise, you welcomed the contact, allowing him to do so. You sent him a quick smile before resuming your conversation with John, however the action didn’t go unnoticed by Freddie and Roger. Much to Brian’s delight, they didn’t say anything but instead, Roger fished out his wallet and plucked out a £50 bill, ungraciously slapping it into Freddie’s outstretched hand before resuming chatting up a girl he’d met at the bar.

“So (Y/N), where’d you meet Brian?” John said, shifting the focus to you.

You laughed lightly before speaking, “We were good friends at university, Brian was studying astrophysics and I was studying literature. We had a lot of fun. He even taught me how to play guitar once. Then about a year into my course I was offered a scholarship to study the reminder in America. I enjoyed my time while I was there, but looking back on it now I probably shouldn’t have taken it, I lost touch with a lot of people in my life. I’ve been back here for about two years now, and somehow I feel its only been two months,” You sighed. “But I suppose fate had it that we ran into each other earlier today and he invited me here.”

“I’m offended you didn’t even recognise me on the album cover.” Brian fake sulked.

“Oh hush.” Taking a breath, you continued, “How about you? How long has Queen been going on for?”

“We’ve been together for about four years now, but we didn’t start producing our own music until mid last year.” John answered, peering at the others to make sure he’d gotten everything right.

“Before that, Brian and I were in another band called ‘Smile’,” Roger continued. “Then our lead singer upped and left and we found these two.” Gesturing to John and Freddie.

“Since then we’ve released three albums.” Freddie went on.

“And sold out almost every uni and pub south of Glasgow.” Brian finished, beaming at you full of pride.

You smiled back at them, both in amazement and shock. Deep down, the pit in your stomach was filled with guilt, you wished you could’ve been at part of it from the beginning. Brian always took music so seriously and you felt selfish for not being there to support him, as a friend should. You thought it was best to push past the discomfort you were feeling and instead enjoy the time you were having.

Late into the night, you bid your farewells to Freddie, John and Roger before Brian ever-so-kindly walked you home. You talked for a majority of way back to your apartment, from your adventures in America to stories of Queen, even reminiscing on old university memories. When you arrived on the doorstep, Brian enveloped you into a warm embrace, “It’s been really nice seeing you again (Y/N).”

“You too Bri,” Looking down, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small piece of paper, quickly scrawling out your number and placing it in his hand, “for my sake, please don’t let me disappear for another three years.”

The abundance of black curls on his head bounced as he nodded. A sudden surge of confidence overcame him, carefully, he leaned toward you and pressed a single, feather-soft kiss against your lips.

“Dinner. Next Friday. 5:00pm. I’ll pick you up?” He proposed.

You met his warm hazel eyes, and saw something you hadn’t seen in them before. They were the tiniest bit misty, presumably from the alcohol and the bright lights peering down all evening; but behind the mist you saw the glint of hope that flickered as he watched you intently. A bright smile spread across your features and you nodded in response to his proposition, a pink hue dusting your cheeks. Little did you know this was only the start of what fate had in store.

[mysticsparklewings]

Big Plans Tiny Planner

Ta-da!! :D It took forever, but I think this is quite possibly my favorite book-making project I've done to date!   A while back while JoAnn's was having a sale on decorative paper (I think it was 10 sheet for $2 or something like that?) and I stocked up on a few combinations I thought would work well for future book projects, and among my choices, I had picked out a page that consisted of tiny calendar pages for a full year and a piece of heavy-duty paper that I thought worked well with the various colors on that page (not all the calendar pages were as drab as the January page here, I just didn't have the patience to try and photograph all twelve of them for this ). However, it wasn't until I saw this video by SeaLemon, my go-to person for DIY book things, that I knew how to get pages that work well for a tiny planner. I had originally gotten some small lined memo pads from the dollar store, hoping to use a couple of them for pages in this theoretical mini-planner...only to find out that nope! Those pages are just a little bit too big. Trying to get them and the calendar pages lined up to glue the spine would be infuriatingly difficult. Naturally, this left me semi-up-creek without a paddle. But then I saw the aforementioned video and learned something that had never occurred to me: You can make dot-grid paper...by printing a dot grid onto regular paper!!   It seems so obvious and so simple now, but it had honestly never even crossed my mind. I guess because I have actually tried using regular grid paper for a book before and it didn't go as smoothly as I had hoped, in addition to me knowing that making your own lined paper in a similar fashion would be much more tedious task. Lining up lines when you're not a machine capable of cutting pages with laser-precision is both time-consuming and next to impossible to get perfectly aligned pages from. The dot-grid, on the other hand, provides guidelines to use for writing and drawing (the biggest disadvantage to unlined paper), and a guide for cutting, but the dots are spaced in such a way that the cut has to be pretty egregiously bad for it to be immediately noticeable if they aren't quite lined up correctly. Additionally, in this case, specifically, the dots are so faint that 1. it makes any misalignment even harder to notice, and 2. they will not show up on camera for anything, and so I didn't bother trying to include a photo to show said dot-grid. That said, I just printed off the dot grid SeaLemon made and shared in the video description onto normal printer paper. Twelve pages; printed the grid onto the front side of each, then flipped them over and printed it onto the backsides. That way I had double-sided pages and I could cut multiple small pages--four 3" x 4" pages per piece of paper--without worrying about if anything was going in the wrong or right direction. Once the grid was printed, I then used a paper cutter to first slice all twelve pages to be the same size, cutting off the excess where the dot grid didn't print because of printer margins. Then I went back through and cut them down to be the size I needed. After which I counted out four pages for each calendar page, and having learned my lesson about end pages (the pages that connect the text block to the splash pages) from the SweetTarts book I made, I cut two more pages out of cardstock to put on the front/top and back/bottom of the stack. And then I carefully lined up one side of the page stack, clasped it in place with a binder clip, and got gluing. While I waited for the coats of glue on the spine to dry, I started on the covers and splash pages. The splash pages I cut and dealt with without much fuss. The covers, on the other hand... Originally, I meant to cut the covers large enough that I could have a little overhang on the edges to make the book a bit nicer. However, I mismeasured/calculated and didn't realize it until I'd already cut the covers in one direction.   It wasn't too late to adjust for the height, but it was too late to adjust for the width. However, that wasn't too terrible, as I figured I could just move the covers over slightly and covered the missing area with the tape over the spine. That did complicate things slightly in that, later on, I had to cut and add strips of paper to the spine area to cover the under of the tape to keep the adhesive from folding and/or sticking to everything. But before the anti-sticky-spine steps happened, I was playing with placement for the cover. Earlier in the process, I had recouped the frame sticker on the front cover from my sticker collection to use in conjunction with the "big plans" placard I wanted to make in a similar fashion to how the names of the months are printed on the calendar pages. While I was fiddling with how it was going to look with the covers, I also started thinking about my choices for the tape on the spine. I ended up thinking that I liked the color of the lines on one of the covers better than the other, based on the frame and the tape options I had, combined with the color of the splash pages that were already attached to the text block by that point. I tried not to. I really did. But I couldn't help myself; I cut out another cover identical to the one of the two that I liked better. To be fair, I'm glad I did because it makes my brain feel better knowing they match nicely, but part of me can't help but wonder if it really would've mattered, provided I had put the other cover on the back. So with that "problem" solved, I could then move on to attaching the covers and placing the tape. And I did. And I am still not very good at getting the spine tape straight on the first try. This was a problem this time, not because this tape was any less forgiving than the other options I've used in the past, but rather because of the thinner paper I'd put in place to cover the adhesive. It did not want to let go of the tape once they were stuck together. As a result, instead of repositioning or even removing the tape, I instead placed another piece on top to fix the unstraight edges. That piece I could reposition, and it's a good thing because it still took me a few tries to get it exactly where it needed to be. I almost thought I was done once that was taken care of and the frame and placard were attached to the front cover. Then I realized this is a tiny planner (of sorts) and a planner could really benefit from book pockets...Which I believe I had originally planned on adding to the book, but it had somehow slipped my mind among everything else. So after I spent way too long deciding on what paper to use for the pockets (and ultimately decided to use some that was leftover from when I made splash pages on the Duck Tape mini sketchbook) and to simply clip the corners instead of using my paper punch to round them because it's started not doing its job very well as of late, I applied the pockets by carefully prying the covers away from the splash pages on the appropriate corners, wedging the pockets in, and then squeezing in a bit of tape and glue to the best of my ability to reinforce them. (Normally reinforcement wouldn't've been an issue because I would've securely taped them to the back of the splash pages before trying to attach the covers.) This time I really did think I was done. And, technically, I was. I was quite proud of my little baby planner, too. The next day I videoed a little flip through of the book to show it to a couple of friends because I figured that would be faster than taking my staging photos like I normally do. In that process, I discovered that it was fairly tricky to flip through the pages and find each calendar page quickly, and also the September page decided to pop out. Apparently it wasn't quite far over enough or didn't get quite enough glue or something. Also, I was a little bothered that one edge of the sticker frame on the front didn't want to stay flat down but also didn't pop up far enough to be able to get more glue under it without making a mess. I've never attempted to reinstate a page that fell out of one of these books before, despite having at least two fall out of one of the first ones I ever made. Fortunately, it went more smoothly than I expected. A little very carefully placed tacky glue and few minutes' patience to hold it still, then some time to dry long-term with extra paper on both sides to absorb any extra glue, it appears fairly stable now. The page-turning took a little more thought, but I settled on using these teeny-tiny heart stickers (one on each side to, again, keep the adhesive from sticking to things it shouldn't) as tiny little page tabs. And when I say teeny-tiny, I'm not kidding. I have fairly small, nimble fingers, and I still found it easier to manipulate the stickers with the help of a pair of tweezers. But they are just big enough to work in this form. The only problem is that they don't stick out uniformly solely because the pages themselves don't, and they have to be stuck on about halfway down the sticker so that they stick to the page securely but still stick out enough to be useful at all once the pages start fanning open. While I had the sticker sheets out to get the hearts off, I peaked at the other options and settled on a few to stick to the frame on the front to fix that other problem about one side not sticking down to my liking. Then I added a couple more on the other side just to balance things out. It's a bit much, but it still feels better than leaving the frame to just stick up like it was. After all of that though, now it's finished. And I'm still very happy, if not even more so, with how it turned out.  It was a piece of work, but it looks so nice and it's functional, too! I'm not even sure I'll use it--I haven't decided yet since it is so nice, I'm thinking I might want to keep it as an unmarred example for future projects like it--but I just enjoy knowing it exists and how good the end product looks that it was worth it to me anyway. This was also a bit of an extra learning experience to 1. Plan these book projects out a little more thoroughly in advance, and 2. Pay closer attention before and during the process of cutting anything. Which, I mean, I already try to do those things, but evidently not quite enough, lest I wouldn't have some of the problems I do that often crop up in my making process.   I'm not quite sure what the next book project will be, but I do have a few more pieces of that paper that I picked out for some, so we'll see what happens next time I sit down and make some. ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[leam1983]

On Autumn

I call these chilly, wet days with bright colors and overcast skies the Dying Days. Nature's nowhere close to dying, she's just tucking herself into bed. No, what's really dying is a chapter of life itself. Maybe I see too much syncronicity in this, but defining moments in my life usually happened somewhere between late August and late November.

Today felt like one of those days: colorful, vibrant, chilly, with the earth smelling of decay outside the office - and everything telling me to get the Fuck outta Dodge while I still can.

The Big Boss is in denial. He's repeating to anyone who'll listen that the chip shortage is on its last legs. It's not. Appointments and referrals are in the pits, our no-shows are through the roof, and our clients are down to basically begging and groveling, plastering superlatives on dogshit rebates and hoping beyond hope that calling Joe Average for his 2014 Corolla's going to land them a buyback. My call center colleagues are filling in for the satellite teams that handle tire-change season for local garages. Hours might shift to a nine-to-five to reflect this, which I don't mind.

That covers October, and only October. November is usually dialed in months in advance, ahead of the Holidays, and now we have nothing. The salesforce might see its hours slashed within a week. I'm fine, being on the Production team, but the Sword of Damocles is still up there, all dangly-like. For the second week in a row, we've got nothing planned for Friday.

Next week? Hey Google, play The Twilight Zone's theme.

All because the global chip shortage is driving prices and import costs up the wall. Things get spread out across the chain, but the consumer ends up picking up the saltiest part of the final tab. It's hard to present anything as a great deal when you're looking at a 10% upmark cost for even last-gen sedans. That means no buyback offers. That means no clients for us, and those that do hang on are told to revise their expectations.

When I took the phone, I used to be able to bring in fifteen, maybe twenty referrals and appointments a day. Now, with the same skills and toolset, I bring in three. Sometimes five or six, on my better days - and that's for the mid-range and high-end sectors.

Try calling in and around factory and manufacturing districts. Try convincing a young mother that's already struggling to make ends meet in the midst of the Delta wave that shouldering a debt in the tens of thousands is worth it when her car's barely six years old.

Fuck, no.

The call center's deserted, our huddles turned into the seven or eight remaining regulars hashing things out around the coffee machine, and it's gotten harder than ever to keep the froshes motivated. Now, more than ever, they're aware of how upper management sees them.

They're disposable, and it pisses me the fuck off. We're some of these kids' first job ever, some of my youngest colleagues are still in their mid-teens - and the fun they had over the summer's evaporated. Now we're just the breadline they need for their smartphone contract or their tentpole console and PC releases. The breezy ones turned into cavalier types, then turned brazen - then stopped giving a shit. Four of them are playing hooky almost weekly. Instead of addressing things responsibly, the floor manager's pacing around the lanes and aisles, taking anyone aside who isn't transfixed with their desktop's set of Web apps.

"I'm afraid you're not giving us your 100%" is something I've heard several times over the past week, now. She's given it to me, too. I used to think Floor Manager Boss Lady could look fierce when she needed to - a moderately non-cliché Girlboss type - and now all I'm seeing is a cornered animal. Whenever she reports back to The Actual Boss, it's with taut skin and deepening worry lines. She's terrified.

The veterans feel it, too. Apart from their pension, the paycheck made their modest lives livable. Now, though? Those with enough strength left are scrambling, and those that can't are in the process of navigating HR's darkened halls to try and find an exit that doesn't land them on the unemployment line. Half of these guys' work is starting to look like the kind of stuff you'd see pushed around work placement agencies: pages and pages of LinkedIn printouts and Indeed screengrabs.

The Actual Boss is spending more and more time at the gym. He handles things well, but you can tell that there's a punching bag, somewhere, that's taking the blame for everything from the strikes in South Africa's silica mines to the various manufacturers' head offices being stuck trying to keep the shareholders in line with offers that aren't too generous.

Others don't have release mechanisms. Some colleagues of mine stormed out of the floor manager's office, cussed out shitty scripts in full view of Production team members or just stopped giving a shit. Our metrics are getting worse, which makes people feel worse.

People openly talk about looking for other jobs. In Quebec, at least, etiquette demands that you don't publicly discuss job-hunting while on the clock. There's been several reprimands, already.

As expected, nobody gives a shit. I sure as fuck don't. I don't give in to the temptation, but I also haven't worked my own authority as a fill-in supervisor all that much. I shield the other supers, all the while nodding at the mouthier types and adding I feel ya on the after-hours Discord group.

I've got three interviews lined up. Work's already notified. Supervisors and floor boss accepted that with looks of quiet resignation, but Actual Boss came up to me, offered to give me a raise out-of-pocket (assuming I didn't tell anybody) and more or less begged me to stay.

We get along well, but I also get along with girls in Accounting. How's it going to look for me if I drink from that cup and one of these girls notices weird extras in my slips? I can't do that, not in good conscience.

One of the sales reps took me aside, a few days back. They're not fazed yet, they're partly paid by commission. They make cash even out of sales they cinch outside of our referrals and appointments.

"You know why you'd never really hack it as a salesman, Brain? You're too nice. You empathize too much."

I realized that this was coming from the rat bastard in the salesforce; the salamander who's okay with pricing overused and worn-out demos as close to Stock price as he could without breaking the law.

I smiled icily, took a swig of coffee. "Yeah, it must be nice knowing you'll just go back to the same four Nissans and that you won't ever have to confront a customer's dissatisfaction. Betcha you sleep real well, at night."

He didn't pick up on my sarcasm. "They're just opinions, bro; I'm just here to deal, y'know?"

Sure. Deal away. In the meantime, some of my colleagues have been driving the same busted sedan to the point of being ordered by the cops to get their cars towed in for servicing - all because they can't structure their budget around a broken part that costs two hundred dollars to fix.

I caught one of my older colleagues weeping, alone in the cafeteria. An older lady, sweetest person you've ever met; everyone's Favourite Grandma, no matter the lack of blood relations. She was crying, because she wasn't sure how she was going to afford Christmas presents for her grandkids.

I hugged her after sanitizing my hands, social distancing be damned. If it weren't for my Disability Savings Account, I'd be forced to stick my inhalers on my Visa.

I figured the end of my tenure there would feel like a big, huge nothing-burger. Woop, one office - and zoop; another office!

Instead, it feels like I'm watching clumsy hunters trying to work out how to put a lamed hunting dog out of its misery. Doom and gloom around the water cooler, either in the meatspace or on Slack.

Time to send more resumés - except I'd rather stop and hug more people for a few days, first.

[bnrobertson1]

EXCELLENCE IN PRODUCT PLACEMENT

Death Stranding* is a wowing mind-fuck of an experience, surreal and mundane and draining and invigorating. Unafraid to constantly show you Norman Reedus’ bare ass while pontificating on the nature of modern existence, the game is unlike any before it, a venerable nightmare for marketing people and gamers expecting something more tried-and-true. 

Choose a Caption!: “I intend to help all of humanity through these apocalyptic times. But first, a peek of me bottom for the ladies.” -OR- Reedus Rump: Kojima’s Metal Gear-esque Weapon to Appeal to Women. 

Death Stranding is also the host to the best piece of product placement in recent memory. The product? Monster mahfucking Energy** drink, a (demonic?) elixir that boosts main character Sam’s stamina when consumed- a life-giving tonic with only 160g of sugar. You don’t drink water in the game, you drink Monster. Hell yes. For a game about wandering the wreckage of a nuclear-ish event, it’s a masterful touch, eloquently capturing our need as humans to technologically improve everything (yes, even the liquid responsible for life), a destructive compulsion that is the vertebrae and driver of the game’s narrative. Many in the press find this shameless money-grab to be tasteless, but the fact Coca-Cola (a corporation!) undoubtedly paid millions to get it so prominently in the game only speaks to its preposterous-yet-probable presence. It’s probably too subtle to be a Kojima-nod to the futuristic satire of Idiocracy, but Monster Energy will undoubtedly go down as the real world’s Brawndo (just without the electrolytes).    

*More Thoughts on Death Stranding (BEWARE NON-SENSICAL SPOILERS): God Bless Hideo Kojima, the man goes for it. Arguably video game’s most beloved auteur and inarguably the one who most wants to be referred to as “Kubrikickian” and/or “enigmatic,” the mastermind behind the beloved Metal Gear games proves incapable of working small or with gloves with his Death Stranding, leaving both fingerprints all throughout and editors’ calls unreturned. Hours-long cut scenes waxing philosophical about technology’s dooming yet liberating role in our future? Check. 4th wall breaking, star-fucking pop culture references? Check. Singular gameplay whose laborious nature quite soundly proves larger points about things ranging from literary theory to the gig economy? Check. Check. Check.

But between the preposterous acronyms, convoluted packing systems, and Conan O’ Brien cameos, there glimmers dots of genius. Those willing to wade through the oft- incomprehensible industrial-military-complex babble are rewarded with “Holy Shit” moments, those boundary and/or sense exploding things of which Kojima is King. Death Stranding is no different, and although the game never reaches the heights of the Metal Gear games, there are specific parts that unleashed that goosebump wave of awesomeness. The bolo gun that wraps up your enemies instead of killing them, your ability to hog tie the unsuspecting with an elastic strand, the focus on oil and blood as the life force of all things- these are but some of the elements of the game that really work, dripping into the game at just the rate where you keep interested but not overwhelmed.

But the best moment in the game is in a cut-scene where your baby companion (did I mention Kojima is weird?) literally stops bullets with its mind to save you. Now, the prior sentence shouldn’t make sense, and probably doesn’t. But the real nonsensical thing is just how powerful it hit. In a game about loneliness and the brutal nature of existence, this self-less act is totally unexpected but gives you the real feeling that someone has got your back (even if it proves to be a futile gesture). It’s effect was reminiscent of similar film sequences. After about 15-months of Covid I would say the point was comforting in a way I was not anticipating whatsoever. 

Being the only one of my friends insane enough to finish the game’s deliberate but nonetheless grotesquely overlong runtime (60+ hours of fetch quests!), my fellow Metal Gear fans have asked: is it worth playing? To which I really don’t know the answer. It’s absolutely bold and tries to tell a tale that could only be told in the video game medium, but then again, video games aren’t particularly great ways of telling stories. At points it felt like its design was made to be played in the pandemic: it’s time-consuming, meditative, and at times utterly mind-numbing. At its peaks, the game is reminiscent of Grandaddy’s The Sophtware Slump, another generally somber post-technological tale, albeit with less alcoholic robots and more characters named things like Die-Hardman. It’s not nearly as *fun* as other AAA titles, but then again the diametrically different approach of Doom Eternal didn’t inspire a couple thousand words.    

**I can’t remember my first cigarette, beer, or kiss but I do remember the first time I had a Monster Energy drink. Due to some mental, emotional, and physical deficiencies, I was unable to fly for about 6 months- just the thought of driving to the airport turned my anxiety- and palm sweat- on like a firehose. But knowing this fear was simply incompatible with modern life, I gave myself a building block of a goal- make a flight from my then-home of Austin to somewhere close enough that I could rent a car and drive home. I chose Dallas because I had an incentive: to see obscure musical group Nine Inch Nails*** performing at one of the Metroplex’s many arenas.

Getting on the plane took some assistance- specifically in the form of about 2 grams of Alprazolam. The barbiturate calm pressed the right buttons beautifully, having me giggling about clouds as opposed to obsessing about how we were in a speeding steel cylinder 7 miles above the surface of the earth. But when we landed in Dallas about 30 minutes later, the ease evolved into a potent sleepiness. Which is fine if you’re headed to a hotel, or virtually anywhere else in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, but not so much when you’re about to see an Industrial concert with 8,000 other people not exactly known for their chill. Plodding along, I finally made it to the concert, hoping to order a Red Bull as big as its namesake to get me out of blah bliss and into banging. The venue only sold Coke products, so in my apathetic exhaustion, I decided to order a Monster, an energy drink to that point I identified with redneck culture and thus avoided. Finding the whole thing pretty funny- and strongly buzzing off the fact that I had somehow faced my fear and gotten on an airplane- I figured there was probably no better place on earth to try a tall boy Monster Energy Drink Zero Sugar than FUCKING DALLAS, ie, the Monster Energy Drink of America.

The flavor I ordered was in a white can and poured out looked like some sort of large sea mammal had just bricked into a cup. Disgusted but not discouraged, I grabbed the glowing goblet like it was the reins of a dragon and took it by its mighty wing, by which I mean swig. Surprisingly tasty, I thought. Not the Pepsi-fied version of Red Bull I was fearing. The house lights then were dimmed, indicating it was game time. I wisely bought another Monster and went into the show, thinking 32 oz of liquid electricity was exactly what I needed to match Reznor’s energy.

You’re goddamn right I took a picture of my first Monster! 

Whatever chemistry was going on in my body was probably bad, because it felt awesome. Even though Nine Inch Nails had performed a majority of my favorite stuff the night before (their first of two nights in Dallas), the concert was as engrossing as was hoped- the loudness and lights simultaneously pummeling and transcendent. While it goes without saying that it wasn’t for everyone, the entire 3-hour ride back to Austin I was laughing like a maniac, having won a small battle (flying) and getting a big reward for my efforts (NIN). So, when anybody asks me what the ludicrously huge can of white can of energy drink I’m proudly, obnoxiously enjoying tastes like I am genuine when I tell them: “Carbonated Capri-Sun. And Courage.”      

*** I had been scared of NIN growing up too, specifically the video for “Closer” which made my 10 year old guts squirm like worms with its hanging meat and imagery that was confusingly gory yet sexual. I also went to a conservative all-boys school where wearing NIN stuff was rarely allowed, and when it was you’d be shamed by one of the change-petrified cliques that ran the place. My position softened a bit after the landmark Johnny Cash cover of “Hurt,” but what confirmed my fandom was when I heard “The Hand that Feeds” on a Chicago strip-club sound system- since then, they have soundtracked much of my life. Lesson: There lies wisdom in Strip Clubs.      

[gameb-diary-sh]

26.11. + 30.11.

/ / Running your own business 

Things to take a look at: MiTale.fi, HIVE-Turku Game Hub, Serious Games (Finnish game developers association)

For start. I think it was a good point that Game development takes diverse knowledge, so not everyone understands you need people with knowledge of history for example and so on. Having just coders or artists/the regular employees you think of, is not always enough for creating a good engaging experience! More diverse expertise is a good thing. 

I’ve been on a course about gamification, but since it was online and had a lot of thinking by yourself, it was nice to hear about it from a professional.

I didn’t make a list of such examples before, so I want to remember what serious games can be: Education - Healthcare and wellbeing - Big brands - Businesses

I’m currently working as an intern on an interactive gamewall project that actually includes educational aspects. We are also making learning material for 8th graders regarding game design glossary that can be used during classes related to the gamewall game they will get to play. During our recent workshops, we’ve been focusing on the character experiences and how the story and the game could have something to learn from. For these also new expertise was brought into the meetings. 

So it’s somewhat related to the subject and I do find it interesting! I’m also familiar with education games because I’ve used them myself. The fact that we all are different and learn better by different methods and how games can offer new options has been fascinating to me.

This was good to note also: WHY TO GAMIFY? It can be used for advertising, development, marketing, even customer support etc. This reminds me there has been quite a lot of playable ads during recent years. One I remember actually trying myself was related to Paulig’s iced coffee and the game was about popping “flavor” bubbles I think, as fast as you could. It had either a time limit, or if you weren’t fast enough and the bubbles increased too much you lost. The catch however in getting people to play the game, was that you could win coffee through it. It’s probably one of the most common ways to get people to play these ad/product placement games.

The ship model showed that was done working together with Viking Line was really cool and it is a complete ship from inside out. I was surprised to hear it was all done in blender, I’ve been practicing to use it and so far it has felt very cartoony. It’s great to see you can also produce results like this in it (but remember to check for plugins to lessen the work), so another good reason to keep at learning it since it’s free!

On Pros & Cons

When you first start your company, it’s essential to have everyone be involved and that everyone has “multiple hats”. Meaning since bigger companies can have various people for many jobs, in a smaller team like 4 people, you need to still have a lot of those same jobs done by less people. 

To remember: In business you don’t make games for yourself! You make them for others to enjoy, develop them for others. Follow data, test, alter. The product has to reflect the marketing demands.

Her advice related to investors we’ve discussed before on another stream, was that don’t rush into it. That you should pick them like your team members. Also consider whether you really need it at all. Cultural grands are possible for creating demos for example as well.

Then on struggles and dangers of finger pointing: Risk that nothing gets done. Facing struggles as a team and being able to discuss these struggles will be helpful, and apparently it was a refreshing thing about having your own company!

Good question: How to start exactly? You could meet your people through school, through game jam, finding people you click with. Start small to make the process easier, it’s also easier to start by paying two people than instantly jumping into ten people. In Finland firing people is not something you can just do, because you feel like it, without any issues and no consequences.  - Incubator info (https://www.tampere.games/finnish-game-incubator/) , http://profile.baltic-games.eu/incubation-and-start-ups/finland/ 

In a company and industry, there is so much finding solutions. You solve one problem and find another. And yes, even I’ve worked previously as graphic designer and photographer, it happened in that job too. Once I went to take pictures of a motel and the owner wasn’t there and their only employee couldn’t speak finnish or english. It was a situation where kind of everything went wrong, but a solution was found in the end and the pictures needed got taken. Happy end, despite struggles.

I loved the image on client expectations and client budget, since you know your thing and the client can’t always know how much work and costs can go into you doing /your thing/. So it’s all about finding best possible solution with the budget you do have, but make it so that it would be possible to expand as well.

Note to check out international IGDA as well: https://igda.org/ IGDA Finland: https://www.igda.fi/

I actually had a brief exchange with staff from assembly game jam about keeping eye on the upcoming ones (global one especially), so as end reminder, I’ll definitely keep eye on the upcoming events and conferences. Volunteering possibilities exists as well! 

The information from this stream would be something amazing to have as a small info package or book! Very good answers to so many questions.

/ / E-learning games

Some of my own stuff on this topic. After all, most of the English I learned when I was a kid was thanks to playing video games and wanting to understand them. It's interesting to think why that made learning a new language so fun. How the game itself was so engaging that the fact you didn't understand everything didn't discourage you from learning. 

I've actually later learned basic Japanese that way as well, however it was more difficult to find games that would have text for beginners to start from. I feel like the wall with it is larger due to the writing system. Even though I've finished multiple games in Japanese fully, reading wise it was more about visual recognition in menus, when understanding through listening was easier to pick up. So yeah just some thinking on gamifying because the difference between a game motivating learning for x reason <---> gamified game, how close these two could be brought? couldn’t both be used? SO YES, MOVING ON :-)

I've always had the attitude that yeah, as mentioned in this that getting a job doesn't mean I will be doing my dream task right away. I'm very open to seeing and learning from different angles and I'd actually even prefer starting from something else than what I maybe dream of? Especially at the start of my career. Besides, so far I've gotten to try and learn many things this way and discover new things about my own abilities as well! Very good to remember.

- GAMIFICATION = user engagement, reward, achievement, motivation, learning, challenge

- Consider who you are making the game for and HOW to motivate them. Children example: story driven, encourage self learning. Think of the mechanics. Experiment!!  (you’re making it for the learners/students.)

This actually mentions game I’ve played (Never alone) https://hongkongtesol.com/blog/2019/07/gamification-english-language-teaching-more-childs-play

(I noticed I already made notes on points that interested me in last class so I’ll focus on finding material I want to check out with this?)

On differences: https://uwaterloo.ca/centre-for-teaching-excellence/teaching-resources/teaching-tips/educational-technologies/all/gamification-and-game-based-learning why we aren’t seeing more games in school yet?  https://www.ucf.edu/pegasus/level-learn/

This is a list on bigger / Maybe more known examples how gamification has been used in marketing https://yukaichou.com/gamification-examples/top-10-marketing-gamification-cases-remember/ I remember reading about the coca cola, magnum and nike ones before.

[elfnerdherder]

Ill Intentions: Chapter 5

You can read Chapter 5 on Ao3 Here

Check out my Patreon Here and become a patron! Early updates, sneak peeks, and insight to future chapters and character arcs! :)

Chapter 5: Investigative Journalism

           He most certainly didn’t tell Jack Crawford or his boss Charlie what he found in his apartment.

           Without a note from the Ripper, the column was normal –as normal as questions of analysis on psychopaths and serial killers could be. He ruminated on the mystery of the unsolved ‘Snake River Killer’ in Lewiston, Idaho, and he discussed the fact that the prime suspect lived comfortably somewhere in North Carolina.

           Just to be congenial, he even called Crawford to let him know that no ‘Avid Fan’ had written.

           Ratings maintained, thankfully. Maybe the Chesapeake Ripper knew that too much was just going to sour the taste in the mouths of readers. Whoever he was, his self-control was one to be marveled at.

           The next week, more letters. He stared at the written ones, sifting through them, grabbing each one crafted from plain copier paper and setting them aside to go through first. Whenever he swallowed, he imagined he could still taste the heady flavor of the Ortolan on the back of his tongue, sordid with its questionable mode of death. He imagined he could taste his own blood, too.

           He was just working his way through another question regarding whether or not the Avid Fan was going to strike again when another letter was set on his desk, plain in manner and unobtrusive in its size. The mailman didn’t stop to talk to him as he trundled by after delivering it; Will saw it out of the corner of his eye, though, and he dropped the one he was currently reading, snatching it up and ripping the letter open with his heart beginning to pound.

Dear Will,

           You’ve become a regular hero, breaking down the aspects of the psychopaths and monsters with ease between breaks to the water cooler and lunch reminders. Does this excite you? Does it make you open your word doc. and stare at the words inside with renewed hope, that if you can gain a small following with nothing more than a few nods towards an understanding of the crazies, perhaps there’s hope for you yet?

           I want to see the sort of words you’d use to describe something outside of the comfort zone of your lumbar-supportive chair. Something where you lose, no matter what you do.

What has roots as nobody sees, Is taller than trees, Up, up it goes, And yet never grows?

           You have one day.

                                                                                                           -Avid Fan

           He read it once, twice, three times. Instead of going to Charlie, who would no doubt encourage him to go alone, Will called Jack Crawford, grabbing his lunch as his watch beeped to tell him that it was time to eat.

           “I’m cooperating, like I promised,” he said when Jack answered. “Just…take me along with you when you go. No pictures, but…I need to see.”

           Jack took him along once he confirmed he had no cameras on his person. There were no mountains in DC, but the Blue Ridge Mountains boasted several beautiful, scenic getaways and parks. It was at one such place the next day that Will found himself staring at the beginning of a mountain trail, his blood cold.

           “I’m banking a lot on you not being like Freddie Lounds,” Jack said. On the mountain, they wore somewhat heavier coats to protect against the chill of the early fall, and agents milled about beside forest rangers, trying to establish the boundaries of the crime scene.

           Because it was very much a crime scene.

           They were hikers –if they weren’t, they were dressed like it. One lay across a boulder beside the beginning of the trail, and if the color of their skin and the amount of blood surrounding them was any indication, they had been drained completely dry. Will had never seen ribs so exposed like that; lungs, heart, and intestines completely missing to show the cavity in all its glory.

           The other lay poised over them, strung up by fine wire as they stared out glass-eyed at the nature surrounding them, either oblivious or disregarding the nature of their partner’s woes. They’d have seemed almost the peaceful, unharmed foil to the one laying down, if Agent Price hadn’t removed the beanie on top to reveal a missing brain.

           “I’m not Freddie Lounds,” said Will after what he too late realized was a rather long pause. He sighed, tucking his fingers into his jacket. “I promise you that.”

           “What the hell are you, then?” Jack wondered, and in the early morning light so high up, the wrinkles on his face were all the more prominent. “What are you that this guy’s writing to you?”

           “Hell if I know,” Will replied. He passed the letter with gloved hands back to Jack, his lip curling. “Hell if I even want to know.”

           “Mountains,” Price said, coming back from the blood and gore. “Up, up, it goes, yet never grows.” He wore a whimsical plaid hat with thick flaps on the side, and he peered up under the scruff of the bill to survey Will and Jack critically. “You have yourselves a killer with an affinity to Tolkien?”

           “He knows I’m a writer, so a writer he uses,” Will said out loud. Rebuked himself for it the moment that it was said.

           “Eyes, temperature, stiffening of the rigor mortis place time of death at about seventy-two hours or so ago,” Price continued, looking to Crawford.

           “Three days,” Jack mused. “They were moved here?”

           “Placement of the blood looks intentional, not the product of him removing organs right here,” Price replied. “He did it somewhere else, brought these babies here to set up a stage.”

           Three days. Will frowned, bit the fat of his cheek and shook his head.

           “He only gave us one day to find them,” he said, looking to Jack. “He only gave us one day, but he-”

           “Clearly intended you to never find them alive,” Jack said, smoothing over his curt words in his mellow baritone. “He’s poking you with a stick, Mr. Graham.”

           Will wanted to shout, to argue. His blood was pumping, his breath cut short as he looked back to the bodies. He was only given a day. They were killed three days ago, and he’d only given him a day. How was he supposed to outsmart him when he wasn’t playing fair? How was he supposed to help anyone when he was being hobbled right out of the gate?

           A thought wriggled in the back of his mind that it wasn’t outsmarting him when he was giving him the easiest riddles he could find. This wasn’t a game so much as it was a lesson –Will’s fun only extended as far as the Chesapeake Ripper would allow.

           “What are you thinking, Graham?” Jack prodded. Will blinked, looked back to Price and Crawford. They’d been talking? Yes, it was apparent in Price’s stance that he’d just been speaking, waiting for a response. Will wondered if there was an app that could remind him to listen and think at the same time.

           “He’d know you’re talking to me, working with me,” he said. “It’s in the news, it’s…everywhere. He wants to see what you’ll do next –what I’ll do next.”

           “And what are you going to do next, Mr. Reporter?” Price asked. It was as much sing-song as it was serious.

           “I said I’d cooperate,” Will said at last, looking from Price to Crawford. “How do you think we should handle this? The news will find out no matter what I do. But if you use me, I can control how some of the news takes it, or at the very least how much they get of it.”

           Jack thought on that, and when Will moved closer he wasn’t stopped, although he was jostled by a park ranger that scurried by, mouth pressed to a walkie-talkie. Even if Will kept a lid on things, people would know. The ranger who’d found the bodies would have most likely taken pictures, the one who came to comfort him would have texted a friend, and by the time they’d gotten to the spot, police were struggling to hold back a Channel 5 News Anchor who was dumb enough to bring the cameraman along too.

           He didn’t want to get too close, resenting the foul stench of death blending with the crisp scent of the great outdoors –pine needles and a distinct lack of car exhaust. Looking down at the victim so open, so exposed made him think about college, the students that’d cut open cadavers in lab, their hissed whispers as they left loud enough that even he heard. Take out all the organs and see what’s left inside. Gross, right? How open we are without the pieces that keep us alive?

           Just at the victim’s wrist, a watch beeped in a very familiar tone. A reminder of an unread text.

           Gloved as he was, Will lurched at the sound and grasped her wrist, sliding the jacket up to reveal a smart watch much like his, same model, make, and color. He tapped frantically at the envelope on the screen, and when it opened he let out a shout for Jack, heart racing.

           Mary Mai too kept her life organized through her smartphone and a synced watch, Mr. Graham. No one seemed to notice her attachment to the living was only held through such a small device rather than the connections of the people around her.

           Jack hauled him back, let him fall onto his ass unceremoniously in a small pile of pine needles and dirt. Jack read the message, then read it again, setting her wrist back down where Will had found it in the blood.

           “It was sent from her device,” he barked out, looking around. “I want a search for any nearby devices on this mountain, and I want it done now!”

           The agents and police scattered, leaving forensics to their job. Will sat on his ass, stunned, until Price took pity on him and helped him up, brushing something off of his back.

           “That was for me,” he rasped to Crawford, staring at his back. “That was to me.”

           “What do you have that the Chesapeake Ripper wants, Mr. Graham?” Jack asked, turning around to him.

           Will didn’t want to say it, pulse thumping erratically as it was. If he did, he’d be suspect, he’d be locked away, he’d be under scrutiny for the rest of his god damn life. His watch beeped to tell him he should either take a second cup of coffee or his first glass of water at the office, and he jolted, wheezing out a breath. Thankfully, adrenaline and excitement looked much the same physically as fear and anxiety.

           “I don’t know,” he lied, and he looked from the body to Jack, shaking his head. “I don’t know, I just…that’s her husband, isn’t it? Mr. Mai?”

           “Jack glanced at a report someone handed him, and he nodded. “Rufus Mai, age thirty-seven, married to Mary Mai, aged thirty-nine.”

           “He’s saying I…I don’t connect like others do, and no one can see. He took his brain?” A rhetorical question. He glanced to the missing top half of Rufus Mai’s skull, and he nodded. “He wasn’t smart enough to see. He wasn’t…smart enough to see she was detached from him, from their reality.”

           “And just how attached are you to this reality, Mr. Graham?” Jack asked.

           The watched beeped again, and he distractedly swiped the notification away. “Relatively attached to living and living in reality, Agent Crawford,” he said, glancing down to the body. He didn’t like seeing that it was empty, devoid of the things that made it real and alive.

           If that was the Chesapeake Ripper’s estimation of him, things looked rather grave indeed.

-

           The cell phone was found perched precariously on one of the police cars farther down the trail, unlocked and devoid of any fingerprints save what Price dismally said was more than likely Mary Mai’s. The fact that the Ripper had been there, strolling among any loitering or any about on business made Will’s palms tingle, made his heart leap to his throat.

           It only served to make Jack kick one of the tires on his car with a furious frenzy that was more than a little nerve-wracking.

He rode back with Jack, the silence one of two minds puzzling over the same problem in different ways. Jack wanted a security detail on him, which he adamantly refused. He wanted to try and use the media to make it seem like more than they had, which Will laughed at. The Chesapeake Ripper would find it not only appalling but laughable, and he’d find another news source to put the spotlight on the FBI’s failures.

           He thought about telling Crawford that he ate people, but then he’d have to explain how he’d found out that information. Telling him he’d had a romantic dinner in the dark would only serve to put him under further scrutiny that he was positive he was already under.

           “How much are you going to share?”

           “I’m not sharing the part with the watch beeping a text,” Will said after a moment of thought. “They should know he’s using timelines with no guarantee of safety, shouldn’t they?”

           “You know what I think,” Jack said heavily. “I don’t think you should engage him at all with this. I think he thinks he can get you however he needs, just by dangling a little more recognition and ratings your way, same as any reporter.”

           “If it was any reporter, don’t you think he’d have gone to one more famous?” Will asked. “Like Lounds?”

           That got Jack. He opened his mouth, shut it with an audible click. “It’s not just fame, then,” he said at last. “He knows how to get fame. He knows how to get attention.”

           “Specifically fame through me, specifically my attention,” Will said. He tried really hard to ignore the thought that he was very much succeeding.

           This is the most fun you’ve had in years.

           “With your life in danger, I’m going to at least put a car outside of your apartment,” he said. “Something to keep an eye on you so that if something happens, someone is there to help.”

           Will didn’t disagree, although he thought it funny that for the many years they’d been trying to get the Chesapeake Ripper, a non-descript white van outside of an apartment like his would be the most cliché way of hoping to catch him.

           He wondered if the Chesapeake Ripper would call again to share in the joke.

-

Dear Will,

I want to see the sort of words you’d use to describe something outside of the comfort zone of your lumbar-supportive chair. Something where you lose, no matter what you do.

What has roots as nobody sees, Is taller than trees, Up, up it goes, And yet never grows?

You have one day.

-Avid Fan

 Avid Fan,

The murders of Mary Mai and Rufus Mai are tragic, and I’m bereft in the face of such senseless slaughter. You want to know what words I’d use to describe something where I’ve lost, but truly you want to see a reaction because that is the sort of person you are. You act in order to observe what people do in order to react.

There are no words to comfort grief. There are no words to explain the silence that encompasses those that have lost and will never hold their loved ones again. I assume you sought to see the things I’d say to garner hatred or resentment towards you, but I don’t have to do that. You murdered those innocent people two days before you sent your letter to me; no matter the actions done by the FBI or myself, you wanted to see what it’d be like for me to lose. I didn’t lose, their family did.

I don’t have to say anything for the people to hate you –you did that well enough on your own.

-

           Ratings dropped at their death, although when other newspapers could also confirm that they were dead before Will Graham had ever received any written word, the ratings rose back up, then increased. Will was right; he didn’t have to urge the people to hate the ‘Avid Fan’. At the face of two pillars of the community murdered on the eve of their anniversary, there rose such a backlash that Will found donations being sent in to be given to the family, to the children who’d lost so much.

           Although Freddie Lounds had the cover page story, Will was given, along with his column, a second page space in order to cover the funeral and the ways that the community gave in full.

           The problem, he realized, was that he was waiting for the Chesapeake Ripper to do something. He wasn’t testing the Ripper, he was sitting there and waiting to be tested. What was he doing to find him? Where was he going to look? The FBI was in over their heads –that much he could tell by the way Crawford struggled. It was personal to him, therefore his anger seemed to be his enemy as he looked at the bodies. Will stared down at his desk, at the reports, news clippings and ‘misplaced’ files he’d snagged from Freddie’s desk, considering the Chesapeake Ripper.

           Why was he waiting on the FBI to do something he knew that he could do?

           He’d gone to school for this. He’d trained for this. Not only had he been top of his class, he’d been fast-tracked to the FBI until his psych-eval came back worse for wear. They’d wanted him, realized they could never have him.

           The Chesapeake Ripper was batting at him like a cat with a ball of yarn, but that didn’t mean Will had to be the yarn.

           “I’m thinking of doing something irrational,” he said to Beverly over drinks.

           “Don’t shave your head, you’ll look like you’ve done time,” she warned him.

           “Looking at the files from what Lounds has said about the FBI-”

           “Okay but you know she shouldn’t have those files-”

           “-I’m sure I could do better than they could. There’s no forensic evidence, nothing for them to go on, so it’s not like the lack of a lab-”

           “-and I’m pretty sure she blew the guy that got her copies of one of those, so-”

           “-would hurt me, so it comes down to brains, outside resources, and the fact that-”

           “-it’s not really pitching much in her corner for you to be-”

           “-the Chesapeake Ripper wants to be my friend.”

           “-grabbing shit from her that could get you –wait, what?” Beverly leveled an intense, probing stare at him.

           “The Chesapeake Ripper wants to be my friend,” Will repeated.

           Their shots arrived then, and Beverly took hers, slamming it down with a little too much force.

           “You’re joking,” she said.

           “He called my phone, and he said that he wanted to be my friend.” Will took his as well, licorice-colored liquid smooth along his tongue and down the back of his throat. Beside his normal whiskey coke, Fernet was a luxury, something to celebrate nothing more than a desire to partake in something that tasted far better than the ass-end of a cat the way that well-drinks often did.

           “I’m guessing you haven’t told anyone from the FBI,” Beverly said. Rather than complete disapproval, there was almost a note of intrigue, the only sort of note that a reporter could have in their voice at a time like that. Newspaper curiosity was something far different from the regular, everyday variety. It was nosier. Less worried about why he didn’t tell the FBI and more that he hadn’t told the FBI.

           “Fuck no,” he retorted. “They’d cart me off.”

           “To protect you.”

           “To shove legal papers up my ass.”

           “So you’re, what –going to try and get him yourself? Be his friend?” That was said with disapproval, a pointed stare in his direction.

           “Considering he butchers and kills people, I’m going to go with a ‘no’ on friendship,” Will said slowly. “But the FBI has been trying to catch him for years. They’ve got nothing. Hell, I don’t know if I’d get anything, but it’s better than sitting around and waiting for him to get me, right?”

           “This is coming from the guy that can’t be bothered to walk two blocks farther than normal for a grocery mart with better prices,” Beverly pointed out.

           “I’ve got to do something, Beverly.”

           She nodded, stirred her White Russian around with the little straw stuck in it. She grabbed the glass, took a sip and considered him just across the way, a little harried, a little curious –no, definitely curious. The only kind of curious he needed her to be.

           “I’ll help,” she said. “I don’t know what to look for, but if you’re going to make an ass of yourself, I want to see it when it happens.”

           “He’s killing people,” Will reminded her.

           “And Freddie Lounds reigning on the front page is killing me. You find something out about this guy, maybe you’ll get front page. Hell, maybe you don’t, I get front page, I get you to front page with me.”

           “This isn’t about work politics.”

           “No, that’s just a perk.”

           They smacked the lip of their glasses together, downed their drinks in one go. Will had had enough shitty whiskey to really put this on the low end of that list, but with something in the distance, he figured maybe it’d be the last time he had to drink something so foul.

           His watch beeped to remind him that if it was a work night, he’d better get his ass to bed.

A special thanks to my patrons @hanfangrahamk @matildaparacosm @starlit-catastrophe Duhaunt6 and Superlurk! You’re the best!

[suzanneshannon]

Little Things That Tickled My Brain from An Event Apart Seattle

I had so much fun at An Event Apart Seattle! There is something nice about sitting back and basking in the messages from a variety of such super smart people.

I didn't take comprehensive notes of each talk, but I did jot down little moments that flickered my brain. I'll post them here! Blogging is fun! Again, note that these moments weren't necessarily the main point of the speaker's presentation or reflective of the whole journey of the topic — they are little micro-memorable moments that stuck out to me.

Jeffrey Zeldman brought up the reading apps Instapaper (still around!) and Readability (not around... but the technology is what seeped into native browser tech). He called them a vanguard (cool word!) meaning they were warning us that our practices were pushing users away. This turned out to be rather true, as they still exist and are now joined by new technologies, like AMP and native reader mode, which are fighting the same problems.

Margot Bloomstein made a point about inconsistency eroding our ability to evaluate and build trust. Certainly applicable to websites, but also to a certain President of the United States.

President Flip Flops

Sarah Parmenter shared a powerful moment where she, through the power of email, reached out to Bloom and Wild, a flower mail delivery service, to tell them a certain type of email they were sending she found to be, however unintentionally, very insensitive. Sarah was going to use this as an example anyway, but the day before, Bloom and Wild actually took her advice and implemented a specialized opt-out system.

This not only made Sarah happy that a company could actually change their systems to be more sensitive to their customers, but it made a whole ton of people happy, as evidenced by an outpouring of positive tweets after it happened. Turns out your customers like it when you, ya know, think of them.

Eric Meyer covered one of the more inexplicable things about pseudo-elements: if you content: url(/icons/icon.png); you literally can't control the width/height. There are ways around it, notably by using a background image instead, but it is a bit baffling that there is a way to add an image to a page with no possible way to resize it.

Literally, the entire talk was about pseudo-elements, which I found kinda awesome as I did that same thing eight years ago. If you're looking for some nostalgia (and are OK with some cringe-y moments), here's the PDF.

Eric also showed a demo that included a really neat effect that looks like a border going from thick to thin to thick again, which isn't really something easily done on the web. He used a pseudo, but here it is as an <hr> element:

See the Pen CSS Thick-Thin-Thick Line by Chris Coyier (@chriscoyier) on CodePen.

Rachel Andrew had an interesting way of talking about flexbox. To paraphrase:

Flexbox isn't the layout method you think it is. Flexbox looks at some disparate things and returns some kind of reasonable layout. Now that grid is here it's a lot more common to use that to be more much explict about what we are doing with layout. Not that flexbox isn't extremely useful.

Rachel regularly pointed out that we don't know how tall things are in web design, which is just so, so true. It's always been true. The earlier we embrace that, the better off we'll be. So much of our job is dealing with overflow.

Rachel brought up a concept that was new to me, in the sense that it has an official name. The concept is "data loss" through CSS. For example, aligning something a certain way might cause some content to become visually hidden and totally unreachable. Imagine some boxes like this, set in flexbox, with center alignment:

No "data loss" there because we can read everything. But let's say we have more content in some of them. We can never know heights!

If that element was along the top of a page, for example, no scrollbar will be triggered because it's opposite the scroll direction. We'd have "data loss" of that text:

We now alignment keywords that help with this. Like, we can still attempt to center, but we can save ourselves by using safe center (unsafe center being the default):

Rachel also mentioned overlapping as a thing that grid does better. Here's a kinda bad recreation of what she showed:

See the Pen Overlapping Figure with CSS Grid by Chris Coyier (@chriscoyier) on CodePen.

I was kinda hoping to be able to do that without being as explicit as I am being there, but that's as close as I came.

Jen Simmons showed us a ton of different scenarios involving both grid and flexbox. She made a very clear point that a grid item can be a flexbox container (and vice versa).

Perhaps the most memorable part is how honest Jen was about how we arrive at the layouts were shooting for. It's a ton of playing with the possible values and employing a little trial and error. Happy accidents abound! But there is a lot to know about the different sizing values and placement possibilties of grid, so the more you know the more you can play. While playing, the layout stuff in Firefox DevTools is your best bet.

Flexbox with gap is gonna be sweet.

There was a funny moment in Una Kravets' talk about brainstorming the worst possible ideas.

The idea is that even though brainstorm sessions are supposed to be judgment-free, they never are. Bad ideas are meant to be bad, so the worst you can do is have a good idea. Even better, starting with good ideas is problematic in that it's easy to get attached to an idea too early, whereas bad ideas allow more freedom to jump through ideation space and land on better ideas.

Scott Jehl mentioned a fascinating idea where you can get the benefits of inlining code and caching files at the same time. That's useful for stuff we've gotten used to seeing inlined, like critical CSS. But you know what else is awesome to inline? SVG icon systems. Scott covered the idea in his talk, but I wanted to see if it I could give it a crack myself.

The idea is that a fresh page visit inlines the icons, but also tosses them in cache. Then other pages can <svg><use> them out of the cache.

Here's my demo page. It's not really production-ready. For example, you'd probably want to do another pass where you Ajax for the icons and inject them by replacing the <use> so that everywhere is actually using inline <svg> the same way. Plus, a server-side system would be ideal to display them either way depending on whether the cache is present or not.

Jeremy Keith mentioned the incredible prime number shitting bear, which is, as you might suspect, computationally expensive. He mentioned it in the context of web workers, which is essentially JavaScript that runs in a separate thread, so it won't/can't slow down the operation of the current page. I see that same idea has crossed other people's minds.

I'm sad that I didn't get to see every single talk because I know they were all amazing. There are plenty of upcoming shows with some of the same folks!

The post Little Things That Tickled My Brain from An Event Apart Seattle appeared first on CSS-Tricks.

Little Things That Tickled My Brain from An Event Apart Seattle published first on https://deskbysnafu.tumblr.com/

[siliconwebx]

Little Things That Tickled My Brain from An Event Apart Seattle

I had so much fun at An Event Apart Seattle! There is something nice about sitting back and basking in the messages from a variety of such super smart people.

I didn't take comprehensive notes of each talk, but I did jot down little moments that flickered my brain. I'll post them here! Blogging is fun! Again, note that these moments weren't necessarily the main point of the speaker's presentation or reflective of the whole journey of the topic — they are little micro-memorable moments that stuck out to me.

Jeffrey Zeldman brought up the reading apps Instapaper (still around!) and Readability (not around... but the technology is what seeped into native browser tech). He called them a vanguard (cool word!) meaning they were warning us that our practices were pushing users away. This turned out to be rather true, as they still exist and are now joined by new technologies, like AMP and native reader mode, which are fighting the same problems.

Margot Bloomstein made a point about inconsistency eroding our ability to evaluate and build trust. Certainly applicable to websites, but also to a certain President of the United States.

President Flip Flops

Sarah Parmenter shared a powerful moment where she, through the power of email, reached out to Bloom and Wild, a flower mail delivery service, to tell them a certain type of email they were sending she found to be, however unintentionally, very insensitive. Sarah was going to use this as an example anyway, but the day before, Bloom and Wild actually took her advice and implemented a specialized opt-out system.

This not only made Sarah happy that a company could actually change their systems to be more sensitive to their customers, but it made a whole ton of people happy, as evidenced by an outpouring of positive tweets after it happened. Turns out your customers like it when you, ya know, think of them.

Eric Meyer covered one of the more inexplicable things about pseudo-elements: if you content: url(/icons/icon.png); you literally can't control the width/height. There are ways around it, notably by using a background image instead, but it is a bit baffling that there is a way to add an image to a page with no possible way to resize it.

Literally, the entire talk was about pseudo-elements, which I found kinda awesome as I did that same thing eight years ago. If you're looking for some nostalgia (and are OK with some cringe-y moments), here's the PDF.

Eric also showed a demo that included a really neat effect that looks like a border going from thick to thin to thick again, which isn't really something easily done on the web. He used a pseudo, but here it is as an <hr> element:

See the Pen CSS Thick-Thin-Thick Line by Chris Coyier (@chriscoyier) on CodePen.

Rachel Andrew had an interesting way of talking about flexbox. To paraphrase:

Flexbox isn't the layout method you think it is. Flexbox looks at some disparate things and returns some kind of reasonable layout. Now that grid is here it's a lot more common to use that to be more much explict about what we are doing with layout. Not that flexbox isn't extremely useful.

Rachel regularly pointed out that we don't know how tall things are in web design, which is just so, so true. It's always been true. The earlier we embrace that, the better off we'll be. So much of our job is dealing with overflow.

Rachel brought up a concept that was new to me, in the sense that it has an official name. The concept is "data loss" through CSS. For example, aligning something a certain way might cause some content to become visually hidden and totally unreachable. Imagine some boxes like this, set in flexbox, with center alignment:

No "data loss" there because we can read everything. But let's say we have more content in some of them. We can never know heights!

If that element was along the top of a page, for example, no scrollbar will be triggered because it's opposite the scroll direction. We'd have "data loss" of that text:

We now alignment keywords that help with this. Like, we can still attempt to center, but we can save ourselves by using safe center (unsafe center being the default):

Rachel also mentioned overlapping as a thing that grid does better. Here's a kinda bad recreation of what she showed:

See the Pen Overlapping Figure with CSS Grid by Chris Coyier (@chriscoyier) on CodePen.

I was kinda hoping to be able to do that without being as explicit as I am being there, but that's as close as I came.

Jen Simmons showed us a ton of different scenarios involving both grid and flexbox. She made a very clear point that a grid item can be a flexbox container (and vice versa).

Perhaps the most memorable part is how honest Jen was about how we arrive at the layouts were shooting for. It's a ton of playing with the possible values and employing a little trial and error. Happy accidents abound! But there is a lot to know about the different sizing values and placement possibilties of grid, so the more you know the more you can play. While playing, the layout stuff in Firefox DevTools is your best bet.

Flexbox with gap is gonna be sweet.

There was a funny moment in Una Kravets' talk about brainstorming the worst possible ideas.

The idea is that even though brainstorm sessions are supposed to be judgment-free, they never are. Bad ideas are meant to be bad, so the worst you can do is have a good idea. Even better, starting with good ideas is problematic in that it's easy to get attached to an idea too early, whereas bad ideas allow more freedom to jump through ideation space and land on better ideas.

Scott Jehl mentioned a fascinating idea where you can get the benefits of inlining code and caching files at the same time. That's useful for stuff we've gotten used to seeing inlined, like critical CSS. But you know what else is awesome to inline? SVG icon systems. Scott covered the idea in his talk, but I wanted to see if it I could give it a crack myself.

The idea is that a fresh page visit inlines the icons, but also tosses them in cache. Then other pages can <svg><use> them out of the cache.

Here's my demo page. It's not really production-ready. For example, you'd probably want to do another pass where you Ajax for the icons and inject them by replacing the <use> so that everywhere is actually using inline <svg> the same way. Plus, a server-side system would be ideal to display them either way depending on whether the cache is present or not.

Jeremy Keith mentioned the incredible prime number shitting bear, which is, as you might suspect, computationally expensive. He mentioned it in the context of web workers, which is essentially JavaScript that runs in a separate thread, so it won't/can't slow down the operation of the current page. I see that same idea has crossed other people's minds.

I'm sad that I didn't get to see every single talk because I know they were all amazing. There are plenty of upcoming shows with some of the same folks!

The post Little Things That Tickled My Brain from An Event Apart Seattle appeared first on CSS-Tricks.

😉SiliconWebX | 🌐CSS-Tricks

[aububuh]

All the asks!!!

1. If you didn't have to sleep, what would you do with the extra time?  - Assuming this means I would never be tired, I would just feel better in general.  I’d probably watch more movies and write more music or something.

2. What is your favorite piece of clothing you own / owned?  - My Pipco shirt has done good things for me.

3. What hobby would you pick up if time & money weren't an issue?  - I would play like every instrument.

4. What does your perfect room look like?  - High ceiling, no standing waves or nodes, world’s greatest audio playback equipment, a wall of guitars, an opposite wall of keyboards, and a drumkit.  Oh, and a bed I guess.

5. How often do you play sports?  - NEVER

6. What fictional place would you like to visit?  - A place I’d be good with just going once would be the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter, just to see the generations worth of crap that people left there.  (yes i know it got burned down just pretend it didn’t)

7. What job would you be terrible at?  - I mean I quit Whataburger after like a day, so.

8. When was the last time you climbed a tree?  - Maybe a few months ago?  I’m not sure.

9. If you could turn any activity into an Olympic sport, what would you have a good chance of winning a medal for?  - Staying up too long.

10. What is the most annoying habit that you or other people have?  - Maybe that I pick my nose?  I don’t get how it’s all that annoying though, and it makes my face feel better.

11. What job do you think you'd be really good at?  - Anything where I complete entertainingly challenging tasks and don’t have to talk to strangers.

12. What skill would you like to master?  - Microphone placement.

13. What would be the most amazing adventure to go on?  - I want to go to Frank Zappa’s old house and see the studio.  It would have been even better a year ago when all his stuff was still in it, but I still want to be in the space.

14. If you had unlimited funds to build a house to live on for the rest of your life, what would the finished house look like?  - Approximately like Zappa’s house, with a badass studio and comfy areas to just exist.

15. What's your favorite drink?  - Water

16. What state or country do you never want to go back to?  - I think I was in New Jersey for about half an hour once.  Never again.

17. What songs do you have completely memorized?  - Most Frank Zappa songs

18. What game or movie universe would you like to live in?  - Star Trek, but the TV version.  

19. What do you consider to be your best find?  - I found the Grim Fandango soundtrack at a thrift store for 25 cents once.  It goes on ebay for like $60.

20. Are you usually early or late?  - I am early for everything.  Sometimes too early.  I can’t stand being late.

21. What pets did you have when you were growing up?  - A series of fish that all died.  The last time I had fish, one of them got hurt, and then the other one ate him.

22. When people come to you for help, what do they usually need help with?  - Either my mom needs me to tell her how to do a really simple computer thing, or my friends need me to give advice on relationship troubles or something.

23. What takes up too much of your time?  - When I waste time spacing out instead of doing a concrete thing that requires any kind of time investment.

24. What do you wish you knew more about?  - Rudy Van Gelder’s recording techniques.  Problem is he’s dead and he never told anybody what he did.

25. What would be your first question after waking up from being frozen for 100 years?  - “Did The Rage And The Fury ever come out?  No?  FUCK”

26. What are some small things that make your day better?  - I like when my friends send me stuff that made them think of me.

27. Who's your go-to band or artist when you don't know who or what to listen to?  - Spirit Phone by Lemon Demon is pretty much my go-to album.

28. What's the best way to start the day?  - Sleeping.

29. What TV shows do you like?  - Currently airing, pretty much just Steven Universe and Orphan Black.  Apart from that, Buffy, Hannibal, and Star Trek: TNG are all favorites.

30. What TV channel doesn't exist but really should?  - One that airs things I might want to watch more than a few times every couple months.

31. Who has impressed you most with what they've accomplished?  - Frank Zappa, Barack Obama, and the friends of mine who have to deal with their brains yelling at them.  All of them are badasses.

32. What age do you wish you could stay at permanently?  - Preferably none.  I think every year I become a better version of myself, and I don’t want that to stop.

33. What TV show or movie do you refuse to watch?  - If I hear about a thing that’s popular but like super demeaning in some way like Split or whatever, I’ll avoid it forever.

34. What's your ideal way to spend a weekend?  -  Sleeping late and doing something productive that’s not related to school.

35. What is something that is considered a luxury, but you don't think you could live without?  - Good audio playback equipment.  I can’t stand using headphones for more than like an hour or two at a time, and good speakers sound better anyway.

36. What is your claim to fame?  - I posted a thing about Wedge Antilles once.

37. What is something you enjoy doing the old-fashioned way?  - I totally prefer recording a whole band in a room to tracking everything individually.  I do it myself because I don’t usually have other people to play with, but for other people’s music it’s just more fun when I’m capturing a live performance.  It’s how so many classic recordings were done, but it’s so uncommon these days and that kinda bums me out.

38. What's your favorite book or movie genre?  - Sci-fi I guess, but I tend to really like stuff that bends genre in amusing ways regardless of the genre it’s bending.

39. How often do you people-watch?  - Whenever I feel like I can get away with it.

40. What have you only recently formed an opinion about?  - I realized last week that the US Democratic party is what a centrist party should be; everything is just so skewed to the right that they seem liberal by comparison.  I wish we had a real liberal party that was able to compete on the national stage, but we’re never going to get away from the two party system until we change a whole lot of shit.

41. What's the best day of the year?  - The best day of this year was when I saw Mike Keneally with my buddy Moped.  Possibly the best day of my life? 

42. What subject interests you that not many people have heard of?  - I would say not enough people have heard of Frank Zappa, or at least have checked out enough of his music to have a real opinion on him.

43. How do you relax after a long day of work?  - Work for me is usually doing sound for rock bands, typically until pretty late at night, so I just crawl up in bed and read dumb shit online until I drop all the energy I build up from working.

44. What's the best book series or TV series you've ever read or watched?  - Hannibal for TV.  I need to read the books.

45. Where is the farthest you've ever been from home?  - Latvia for 5 months in 2014.

46. What's the most heartwarming thing you've ever seen?  - Idk, probably some sappy romance in a show I like.  I’m a sucker for that sort of thing.

47. What is the most annoying question people ask you?  - This one.

48. What could you give a 40-minute presentation on with no preparation?  - Frank Zappa, or any number of subcategories about him.  The evolution of his guitar tone, the influence of his favorite music on his own work, his history of band members, etc.

49. If you were the dictator on a small island nation, what crazy dictator stuff would you do?  - I’d do REALLY crazy shit like guarantee everyone human rights.  Unless they’re nazis.  Frankly I have no idea why this is crazy, but some Americans would tell you it is.

50. What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives?  - Listen to Frank Zappa.  JK, he’s not for everyone.  Everybody should go hear a band they love play live though.  There’s nothing like it.

51. Would you rather go hand gliding or whitewater rafting?  - HANG GLIDING FUCK YEAH

52. What's your dream car?  - A self-driving one.

53. What's worth spending more on to get the best?  - Right now I’m researching acoustic treatment so my speakers won’t sound like crap in my bedroom, so I’m gonna go with that.

54. What is something a ton of people are obsessed with, but you just don't get?  - One night stands tbh.  I’m demisexual, so it just sounds awful and gross.  I’m glad other people enjoy them though.

55. What are you most looking forward to in the next 10 years?  - Making a living at the thing I do.

56. Where is the most interesting place you've been?  - In terms of experiencing culture, Latvia.  I’m so glad I got to absorb all that information from talking to people, and it gave me a more direct experience with the after effects of totalitarianism than many Americans *coughtrumpvoterscough* have ever been exposed to.

57. What's something you've been meaning to try but haven't gotten around to it?  - Fried ice cream.  I’ve been fascinated by the concept since I was a kid.

58. What is the best thing that happened to you last week?  - I SAW MIKE KENEALLY AND HUNG OUT WITH MY FRIEND MOPED

59. What piece of entertainment do you wish you could erase from your mind, only to experience it for the first time again?  - I honestly get more enjoyment out of media when I’m experiencing it for subsequent times, so none.  I love rereading books, rewatching movies, and listening to albums enough times to memorize every note.

60. If all jobs had the same pay rate and hours, what job would you want to have?  - The one I have but more often.

61. What amazing thing have you done that no one was around to see?  - Released music on the internet.  4 people downloaded my last single.

62. How different was your life 1 year ago?  - About the same but harder.  College has been getting easier for me since I’ve gotten used to it.

63. What quirks do you have?  - My chin is lopsided and my left arm sticks out at an angle.  As far as personality quirks, I have about as many as the average person, which is to say too many to list.

64. What would you rate 10/10?  - Spirit Phone by Lemon Demon, One Size Fits All by Frank Zappa, and the Rite of Spring by Igor Stravinsky.

65. What fad or trend do you think should come back?  - Recording live bands in a room together!

66. What is the most interesting piece of art you've seen?  - I’ve seen tons of great art, but today I saw this thing that was like a giant inflatable tent that let sunlight through and turned it into different colors.  Check this out.

67. What kind of art do you enjoy most?  - I have no idea how to define my taste in art, I just like something or I don’t.

68. What do you hope never changes?  - I hope Lemon Demon albums keep coming out.  I don’t know how you could top Spirit Phone though.

69. What city would you most like to live in?  - Somewhere in California might be fun.

70. What movie title best describes your life?  - It Might Get Loud

71. Why did you decide to do the work you are doing now?  - Because I’m good at it and it’s damn fun

72. What's the best way a person can spend their time?  - Making themselves happy in a positive way.

73. If you suddenly became a master at woodworking, what would you make?  - A badass guitar.  Possibly something like Jerry Garcia’s Wolf with a billion knobs and stuff.

74. Where is the most relaxing place you've ever been?  - My bedroom

75. What's the luckiest thing that has ever happened to you?  - I SAW MIKE KENEALLY WITH MY BUDDY MOPED AND WE HUNG OUT WITH THE BAND FOR A MINUTE

76. Where would you rather be from?  - I’m technically from New York, but I was 3 when I moved so it doesn’t really matter where I’m actually from.

77. What are some things you've had to unlearn?  - I mean there’s the obvious ones like racism, sexism, being a dick in general, but also I had some bad audio habits that I’ve had to kick.  I always have to force myself to mix my own vocals loud enough on my song, which led into me doing something similar when I first started doing live sound for other people.  Audiences like hearing what the singer is saying.

78. What do you look forward to in the next 6 months?  - I can’t wait to sleep more this summer.  (This is a reoccurring theme in this ask thing isn’t it)

79. What website do you visit most often?  - Tumblr is probably the one I spend the most overall time on, but I usually split my time fairly evenly.  I look at Facebook a lot, but usually not for more than a few moments at a time.  I read a decent amount of Twitter, but I almost never tweet anything.  I also like looking at instruments for sale on Craigslist.  

80. What one thing do you really want but can't afford?  - Probably some guitar or keyboard.  Shit, if I could I would have every instrument ever.

81. Where do you usually go when you have free time?  - My bedroom.

82. Where would you spend all your time if you could?  - My bedroom.

83. What's special about the place you grew up?  - I have a really nice bedroom.  It’s changed a lot depending on what I use it for at the time, but it’s been the same color since I picked it out when I was 4.

84. What age do you want to live to?  - I’m good with whatever life gives me.  I could live to 100 but I wouldn’t be too peeved if I died next week.

85. What are you most likely to become famous for?  - My dream is to be that producer at the Grammys who called Taylor Swift on the phone from the podium to say their album won.  That was the coolest.

86. What are you absolutely determined to do?  - Someday I want to do a really awesome orchestral recording.  I don’t even care that much what the music is, I just want to do that.

87. What is the most impressive thing you know how to do?  - I can make bands of old dudes who are wary of a spunky young sound person like me by making them sound as good as possible.

88. What do you wish you knew more about?  - Drum overhead placement.

89. What question would you most like to know the answer to?  - How the heck do I get that clean tone that Zappa had in 1988.  

90. What question can you ask to find out the most about a person?  - “Why did you vote for who you did in 2016?”

91. When was the last time you changed your opinion or belief about something major?  - I feel like most opinion changes happen so gradually that they’re hard to notice, so I have no idea.

92. What's the best compliment you've ever received?  - I really like when people compare my music to Zappa without knowing that I love him as much as I do.

93. As the only human left on earth, what would you do?  - Find the Zappa vault and listen to everything, then die.

94. Who inspires you to be better?  - My friends, who are all awesome.

95. What do you want your epitaph to be?  - “Eh, good enough I guess”

96. What haven't you grown out of?  - Shirts I had when I was like 14, interestingly.

97. In what situation or place would you feel most out of place in?  - Any social event with tons of people I don’t know and where I don’t have a friend keeping me company the whole time.

98. What's the dumbest thing you've done that actually turned out pretty well?  - I made a tumblr, which has given me multiple good friends.

99. If someone wrote a book on an event in your life, what would the book be about?  - Idk, that would be a pretty boring book for anyone who didn’t know me.

100. What's something you will never do again?  - Talk to this one asshole.

101. How do you hope you'll change as a person in the future?  - I want to like myself more.

102. What keeps you up at night?  - Usually the internet.  On more fun nights, conversations with friends.

103. What's the most surprising self-realization you've had?  - “Oh shit, 14 year old me was a fuckin’ asshole”

104. What is the most illegal thing you've ever done?  - nah

105. How do you get in the way of your own success?  - I’m not as proactive about looking for work as I probably should be.  Same with getting ahead in school.  I tend to put in just the work that will get me by in my classes, and I don’t really pursue any extracurricuals or anything.

106. What are you afraid people see when they look at you?  - Acne some nerd who talks about stuff they don’t care about

107. What is your biggest regret?  - nah

108. What do you look down on people for?  - Being children.  Not like, I think badly of them for being childish, I mean I have to literally look down at kids because I’m taller than they are.

109. What bridges do you not regret burning?  - There’s a couple I should have burned sooner, but one of them I just had no idea who he really was for the longest time.

110. What lie do you tell most often?  - “I can sing”

111. What would be your spirit animal?  - Isn’t this appropriation or something?  I’m not completely clear on this one so somebody let me know.

112. What is the best & worst thing about getting older?  - Best is being a smarter, better version of myself.  Worst is taxes.

113. What are you most likely very wrong about?  - I believe that the US has a fundamental promise of hope.  

114. If you had a personal flag, what would be on it?  - Idk, designing flags is hard.

115. What's happened that changed your view on the world?  - November 2016 made me doubt 113.

116. What is the biggest lesson you've learned?  - There are more terrible people in the world than I hoped.

117. What is the most immature thing you do?  - I still think fart jokes are more often hilarious than they are bad.

118. What are you famous for among your friends & family?  - Existing?

119. If your childhood had a smell, what would it be?  - Cheese, then the absence of cheese, then lots of cheese.

120. What one responsibility do you wish you didn't have?  - I support the institution of taxation as a necessary part of running a functional government, but I wish I didn’t have to pay 15% as a freelancer.

121. What are 3 things you want to accomplish before you die?  - Record an orchestra, Have somebody heard of me by reputation who’s not a friend of a friend or something, and have dinner with Joe Travers.

122. What do you want to tell your 10-year-old self?  - “You’re gonna like music more than acting, so you might as well get a head start.”

123. What's the best thing you got from your parents?  - I’d like to think I have at least some of my dad’s work ethic.  I definitely have his sense of humor.

124. What's the best thing about you?  - I’m good at talking with people.

125. What blows your mind?  - There are over a hundred Zappa albums.

126. Have you ever saved someone's life?  - Not directly

127. What are you really good at but embarrassed to be good at?  - Honestly can’t think of anything.  Ask me later.

128. What would a mirror opposite of you look like?  - Clear skin, bad taste in media, shitty friend, makes a living.

129. What are 3 interesting facts about you?  - I’m tired, I should go to bed, and I think this is an absurdly long ask thing.

130. Which of your scars has the best story behind it?  - There’s a scar on my finger from the first time I ever used a pocket knife.  It was a gift from a friend’s uncle or some such relative, and he freaked out 100x more than I did when I cut myself.

131. What's the title of the current chapter in your life?  - “Now we’re getting somewhere I guess”

132. What were some of the biggest turning points in your life?  - Doing DI, being politely kicked out of DI because I didn’t realize yet that depression was a thing and it was affecting my work, apprenticing at a venue, probably some other, more pleasant stuff.

133. What's the hardest lesson you've learned?  - No matter how far I go at being what I consider a good person, I can always do better.

134. What do people think is weird about you?  - I like some really weird music.

135. What mistake do you keep making?  - Carrying too much stuff at once.  Thankfully I don’t usually drop it though.

136. What have you created that you're most proud of?  My Christmas album.

137. What do you doubt?  - That I’m good at music.

138. What are some of your morals?  - The current president is Bad.

139. What do you want to be remembered for?  - Being a good friend and also making cool music.

140. What do you regret not doing in your childhood years?  - I never got to go to Legoland back when I would have enjoyed it most.  I’d still love to go tbh.

141. What is your favorite fragrance?  - Whatever my friends each smell like, because it makes me think of them.

142. What do you think your last words will be?  “Well okay”

143. Who or what do you take for granted?  - Probably that my parents will always be there if I need them.

144. Why would you be annoying as a roommate?  - Loud music all the time.

145. What is something you're insecure about?  - My face

146. What's the best & worst piece of advice you've received?  - Best is “done is better than perfect”.  Worst is “put that pressure zone mic at an angle from the ground.

147. What irrational fears do you have?  - If a friend doesn’t text me back I sometimes worry that they’re dead.  It’s annoying.

148. What makes a good life?  - Doing whatever it is that makes you happy and leaving a good impression on the people in your life.

149. What's the last adventure you went on?  - I went to McKinney and SAW MIKE KENEALLY 

150. What is the most memorable gift you've received?  - My dad gave me a Gibson SG.  It’s pretty great.