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[tiktaalic]

Not all women would be happier if they were lesbians. But Taylor swift would be.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx

Part 7 | settima parte

warnings; love sucks man. word count;  1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.

“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.

It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.

Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.

“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.

“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.

After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.

“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”

So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.

______________________________________________________________

“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.

“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.

Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.

“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.

“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.

“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.

“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.

“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”

Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.

“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”

“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?

“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”

“Ok ok, sorry, continue”

“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”

I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.

“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.

“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”

“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”

I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.

“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”

He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.

“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.

“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”

“How do you know what club I'm going to?”

“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”

Part 8. | parte otto

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

I’ve been rewatching CM and god, what I wouldn’t give for them to bring TG back for this revival. I haven’t even watched seasons 12-15 yet because I’m in denial about him being gone 😭😭😩

omg I haven't watched it either xD I've been holding off watching s11e22, The Storm, for like a month I swear. Which, I know is going to be amazing but I also have heard it's the beginning of the end and I'm not readyyyyyyy.

I would give anything for TG to come back. A n y t h i n g. But idk what CBS feels is the appropriate amount of time to be blacklisted or whatever the hell they did 🤷‍♀️ despite how it would be so easy to write him back in, and the missed opportunities is already making my skin crawl.

Okay. This was going to be a quick answer, but I've been THINKING about this way more than I should lately, without ever having watched 12-15 but I feel like I know enough, and with all the projects I'm going to be finishing/starting soon I know I won’t have time to do anything with my ideas. So I'm just going to type this little beginning I have plotted out and maybe one day I'll make it into the fic I want it to be:

(I know you didn't ask for a hc/blurb thing but surprise you get one xD)

CW: Spoilers for season 11-15 that are probably inaccurate af, fighting, violence, bit of blood and injuries talk, some profanity. 

-

((I legit have this all plotted out like a full season, and picture everything as shots and scenes and I know exactly how I would want to bring Hotch back.))

-

It would start in a small suburban town in Indiana, legit white-picket fence, middle of nowhere, off the grid town. With the most pedestrian name ever, we might as well call it Mayberry. Typical weekend morning, bright green grass and trees and summer sunshine lighting it all up, they still get papers delivered it’s that picturesque. And it’ll pan to all sorts of people on this street of nice, two-story houses, and finally zero in on not the man picking up his paper from his front porch, but the jogger slowing down that the man calls to next door, calling him a name we’ve never heard before -- but the jogger answers with that dark eyed squint and a nod... and it is Aaron Hotchner. Or the man who used to be Aaron Hotchner. He hasn’t gone by that name in years, WITSEC provided him and Jack with new ones.

His house isn’t even really decorated like a home, he’s been in enough over the years to know tell-tale signs of what a happy home should entail. Photographs, memorabilia, nostalgia tucked away in corners -- they don’t have that. He has a couple of photographs he keeps in his office, the only two in inconspicuous view being a photo of Haley and Jack when he was two years old, and a photo of his team the day he completed the FBI triathlon and they all showed up to support him. Everything else of their old life is in boxes in a storage facility in downtown D.C., under another false name that can never be linked back to them. 

Mr. Scratch was a poor excuse for why he and Jack were still under WITSEC, but he hopes near daily that it was enough of a reason that no one would question why he didn’t return once that monster was dead. That no one smart enough to read between the lines would go digging for more reasons, or worse -- try to find him -- and they pictured him living a happy retirement very similar to the charade he is living now. 

But Aaron Hotchner was never meant for retirement. No matter how easy and simple his days have been the past few years. It was only a matter of time. 

He walks through his home that looks more like the insides of a Home Living magazine, to his kitchen which is bright and spacious and tiled white that he knows Haley would have loved, getting a glass of water from the sink and chugging it all in one go. It isn’t until he’s getting a second glass that he hears it. The faucet was supposed to have masked any disturbance, they were careful in when they moved, how they placed their feet, the slowness of the their approach -- but not enough.

Hotch keeps his shoulders relaxed, his spine still ram-rod straight but that’s just how he stands and it keeps tension ready at a moment’s notice. Keeps him on alert, which he needs as he takes slower sips of water and lets all his other sense shift to a heightened awareness. Knows this house like the back of his hand, even if he’s never allowed himself to consider it home, so he knows which floorboards creak and where all the furniture is strategically placed. Always prepared for something like this to happen, even if he never imagined someone would be so bold. 

Their mistake.

With a careful tick of his head, peripherals his only guidance, he strikes before the intruder gets to. An iron grip and momentum that propels their face into the metal of the sink basin, shocking them that what their file was so misleading about their target. Retired FBI agent, almost 60 years old, living in Pleasantville with a picket fence and a vegetable garden. This should have been easy. The intruder is stunned by the blow, attempts a quick recovery where they lash out and get a few good body shots into the older man -- but he’s built like a brick wall, can take a blow and give it back twice as hard -- a few more precise hits and another crack of their face to the sink that shatters the bridge of their nose leaves the attacker slumping to the floor. 

“You didn’t do your research,” Hotch tells them, breathing a little heavy, opening up a drawer usually deemed for junk and pulls out zipties and an ancient looking cell phone buried deep at the back. “Sloppy. I expected more from him.” 

The attacker kicks out Hotch’s knees in a fit of rage (at having his skill set insulted so), leaving them both crashing to the floor. They grapple and fight a bit more, knocking dishes from the counters and pots and pans to the floor from the grill top island, but Hotch is so well-trained in take downs he gets the slighter man pinned with only a split lip and a single hitch in breath. He barely broke a sweat. Knocks the guy out clean, two solid punches to his face, and he stops because he knows better. Has been there before, and they need to question whoever was sent to his house to kill him. 

He’s barely off the floor, the intruder binded and stuck in a corner when Jack walks in from early morning soccer practice. Takes one look at the kitchen, his dad with blood in the corner of his mouth, and the guy all in black bound by zipties and already knows what happened. Sixteen, nearly as tall as his father now, he looks only mildly worried for all of two seconds until he sees that his dad has an old flip cell phone held up to his good ear, awaiting a connection with their handler in Indianapolis. 

“... Does this mean we get to go home?” 

The shot would pan back to Hotch, and he wouldn’t answer him, just tells the person on the phone to ‘patch him through, they have a situation’, and there would be no very obvious look in answer to Jack’s question. But all of us who know him, know the subtle changes in expression and the slight softening to that stern frown, knows what his reply would have been.

-

The very next scene would be the BAU. JJ and Emily walking at a brisk pace covering a debrief, since they basically run the department now. Everyone has been called in, everyone, retired and moved away and even the ones who cut all ties have been contacted. JJ has just gotten off the phone with Elle, who is working as a liaison in Rome and assured her that if anyone showed up in her home to attack her that they would be leaving in a body bag. But she appreciated the heads up. 

In the bullpen it’s more like a family reunion than anything. Garcia has just gotten off the elevators, a flurry of color and blonde curls and bright as ever, Morgan and Savannah are trying to corral Hank and the twins (both girls and pure chaos now that they can walk) while still making introductions with the new team and their families, and asking if Reid or Rossi know anything about what’s going on as JJ gets there and asks for everyone’s attention. 

“Not everyone is here yet, Kate and her family are on their way from upstate, Will’s getting the boys from school, and Alex and her husband are on a plane, but we need to get started as soon as possible.”

“What’s is going on, JJ?” Morgan asks, passing off one of the twins to Penelope who is in full baby fever mode despite what is obviously a very bad circumstance that has brought them all together. It’s a juxtaposition that has put everyone on edge. It doesn’t help when JJ and Emily look at each other as if in confirmation, trying to decide who is going to tell them.

“Okay, that doesn’t inspire confidence,” Rossi points out. “What happened?”

Emily sighs and makes a gesture for JJ to take the floor, since she has been on point for most of this.

The bull pen is silent in anticipation.

“Earlier this morning, Hotch was attacked in his home in Indiana,” she says, and whatever anyone thought was going on -- that wasn’t it. The shock across the room is like a bomb has detonated.

Rossi curses something out in Italian, looking down, and JJ immediately realizes how this all sounds. But doesn’t even get to backtrack as Reid looks completely devastated and Garcia like she’s about to cry and everyone else starts shouting questions at her. 

“What happened to Jack?”

“How did they even find him? What the fuck is wrong with WITSEC?!”

“Is he okay?” asks Tara, the only intellectual who can see the panic now blooming on JJ’s face.

“Yes, yes! He’s okay, sorry, no -- Hotch is fine. The guy who tried to kill him... not so much, but he should be conscious soon so they can question him.” 

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” Morgan says looking like he just aged ten years in the past 30 seconds. “Lead with that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. He’s okay, Jack is okay, they’ve been picked up. But... there’s a lot we need to be filled in on,” she admits, which quiets the room once more. “Apparently, the WITSEC had nothing to do with Mr. Scratch. There’s something much bigger and more dangerous going on, and he went under to keep us all safe. As well as himself, and Jack.” 

“What is it?”

JJ makes a gesture with her hands splayed as she looks a little lost. “I only know bare bones, we have to wait to hear the specifics and get everyone somewhere safe.” 

“You think we’re going to trust WICSEC after this?!”

Emily intervenes this time, “We have a plan, or... Hotch has a plan, I think. We’re just learning about everything as we go, he’s really the one that knows the most about it.”

“Then where is he?” Morgan speaks up again. “If he’s been pulled out, and we’re all in danger, why isn’t he here explaining this to us himself?” 

It’s a good question, and everyone looks expectantly at the two women leading the informal briefing. 

“Will he come back at all?” Reid asks, speaking up for the first time. It’s been years, that’s a long time to rethink a life like the BAU, and everything it entails.

JJ takes a deep breath. “He’s... in--”

“Out-processing.” 

Hotch is at the back of the room. Everyone turns to him, even JJ and Emily look surprised to see him so soon.  ((But we all know the CM cinematography love that kind of return shot, so I’m catering to it. For situational parallels if nothing else. Imagine the gif sets.))

“I pushed it as fast as they could go, but WITSEC always drags their feet.” The familiar drone, dry barely-there-humor, breaks whatever spell that had been over the room at the sight of the old Unit Chief. Disbelief and relief and stunned surprise litter every expression, and although Penelope looks like the first to say something, her words change course just as she opens her mouth. Because  Hotch is still in civilian clothes, a duffle-bag over his shoulder he used as a go-bag for decades, and beside him with a bag of his own with messy dirty blonde hair is--

“Oh my God, is that Jack!?” she near sobs, the teenager smiling at her in a way that looks so much like Haley, and she goes to hug him first with the boy meeting her halfway. “You’re so tall! And so grown up, look at you!” There’s definitely tears and the team converges on the Hotchners all at once. Reid hugs Hotch first, as tight and bone-crushing as that night in Atlanta all those years ago, followed soon after by Rossi who looks like he might shake the man but just hugs him tight and plants an absurdly embarrassing kiss on his cheek that finally cracks Hotch’s expression into something like a smile. Everyone hugs, everyone, Savannah calls him Aaron instead of Hotch because that was how he’d introduced himself all those years ago, the twins wave shyly and he shakes hands with the newer members that never got to meet him but have heard very tall tales about him for years and years. 

(And y’all, it would be the best damn scene and I would sob like a baby watching it.)

Morgan would be the one that would hold back and let the others go first, but it would also be the most profound when Hotch goes to shake his hand and the other man uses that to pull him into a tight hug of his own. 

“I’m glad you can still hold your own,” he’ll tease with nearly no heat behind it. Hotch hears it for the caring that it is.

“Like hell I would let that happen twice in my own home,” he assures him. 

Everyone settles down, and Emily leads some finer points of what’s going to happen with everyone in the next few hours. Days. Weeks, even, because there’s no knowing what is going to happen next. Hotch observes her, and there HAS to be a shot where she glances over to him and they share a look of understanding -- because she is Unit Chief now, and he approves of what he sees. 

But she turns the floor over to him, and Hotch explains what’s going on.

((I’m going to leave the finer points out about the case and the unsub, mostly because I haven’t finished ironing them out yet and I hope once I watch the remaining season I will be able to much more easily))

But at SOME POINT in the briefing, when Hotch is explaining what happened with the assassin in his home and how he apprehended him, and Emily maybe interjects with the injuries sustained and that they are still waiting for the man to regain consciousness. Penelope will 100% lean over to where Jack is sitting beside her and say without flinching, “Your dad is such a bad ass.”

((I also plan on bringing up Reid was in prison in this scene but it will be more humorous than anything because of Hotch’s reaction, stay tuned on that one. Again I’m not there yet))

((and where I’m taking them is also a secret because I need to do research and it will be so damn cool, but Hotch has everything completely planned out -- like he does. Goes as far as asking the few who question him “Secure enough for you?” when he drops where they will be staying and the protection they will have. Full blown mic drop moment.))

“So gather all of your belongings that you have here. Secure pets and homes, call the kid’s schools, whatever you need to do,” Hotch informs them, stepping back into his old shoes as team leader without even meaning to. But no one tells him to stop. “We need to be in the air ASAP, the jet is being prepped as we speak so we need to move on this.”

He leaves it at that, and everyone doesn’t move. Watching, waiting, smirking a little bit (Penelope, maybe even Reid), until he gives in.

“Wheels up in 30.”

Garcia giggles so much she near cackles with it. “Oh, I just got goosebumps!” And by Emily’s smirk and Morgan’s shared grin with Reid, a million watts between them, everyone is up and moving and pulling out cell phones to get their affairs in order.

Rossi sidles up to Hotch at that point, also openly smirking that they got him to say those four time-honored words. “Welcome back, Aaron.”

And Hotch, well -- he looks around the room at the family he had to leave behind without any hope of seeing them again, and feels every hardened edge in his face and demeanor soften. Before he looks to Dave and tells him what’s been going through his head ever since he walked back through the doors of the BAU.

“It’s good to be home.”

((END SCENE))

[parappa-and-lammy]

Disabled OCs 2: Electric Boogaloo

it’s them, they’re here! Or yknow, a chunk of em. i had a LOT backlogged and there are even more in store i have saved away - the ones here are the most fleshed out!

To start, with who appears to already pique peeps interest:

⬆️ Bumble Bea the flower-capybara! 

Most notable is her golden and wild long flowing hair. It has green streaks through it, along with plenty of flowers; some grown by her, and others gathered throughout her life. They’re able to stay alive as long as she keeps them in her mane. Definitely the hippie type, she enjoys being around people and in nature. She is friendly towards everyone, and calls them all some variation of “honey” (hun, honey bun, hun bun..,), she’ll even sometimes pluck a flower to give to you!

Her original dream was to be a rockstar sensation, specializing in psychedelic rock. She even has her own custom guitar (which looks like a bumblebee!). Has hyperthyroidism and fibromyalgia - the chronic pain of which made her decide to retire. She’ll come out to play every so often, just not so extensively as before. For now, she simply hangs out with her family and helps them with their own problems.

⬆️ Lonnie Lop the jerboa-rabbit!

Lonnie is a jokester who doesn’t take much seriously. So much so, he sometimes forgets that some topics are off limits. Barely being an adult, he has trouble judging people, and tends to take things at face value. He’s an overly emotional immature thing at times... but he’s discovered that his family is most important to him.

Lonnie wanted to become an idol more than anything way back when - he had the cuteness, the singing skill, the dancing and everything else! But they had all turned him down, and it’s not really a mystery why. He has a stoma on his abdomen and has a colostomy bag - the most decorated and brightly colored ones are his favorite. He is also borderline anemic and has pica - both of which caused an event that led to him getting the stoma in his childhood.

For now, he simply helps his family out with random little jobs. He looks up to Bumble, who he considers his sister. He still insists on becoming an idol somehow.

⬆️ Otto the otter!

He is a jolly old man with a big heart, and a laugh so loud it shakes the building. Some people might be off-put by his openness, but he’s nothing but sincere. He will always set time aside to listen to whatever problems you may be having, though he isn’t exactly the most intellectual. He’s a lil’ confused but he’s got the spirit.

Otto has epilepsy, along with chronic migraines. All his sons and daughters left the nest and got careers in the technological industry, and he’s nothing but happy for them. But he stays away from screens and such. He’s moreso a man that works with his hands. And he does! Whenever he isn’t in the house with his new found family, he’ll be outside working on a project.

After the passing of his wife and his kids going on to do great things, he’s opened his house up for the ones who have no home. Many people have come to call his house ‘home’ and become part of the family. He fosters kids and helps people feel appreciated when they never have. Bumble came by long ago and is officially part of the family. Lonnie was the first foster kid at his home, and also was the first to be adopted by him.

⬆️ Kato the croco-llope and Lea the sheep-leopard!

Lea has high morality, which many remember her for: she shall never speak ill of someone. Never outwardly be rude or mean to someone. She tends to prioritize helping others over herself, even to the point of bringing harm onto herself. At times like these, usually standoffish Kato will step in and stand up for her. They known each other for a very long time - Kato has known her most of his life, and Lea has known him for over a decade now.

Lea was born deaf and is very adept at ASL and reading lips. Kato lost his arm and eye, has hearing loss in his right ear, among other things, due to something that happened long ago. Despite this, he’s become quite skilled at kung fu - even CCMO has commended him, and request he train others at the dojo alongside him.

The two live at Otto’s Foster Home, with Lea having registered to be the full-time caretaker there. She made Kato go through the training and begrudgingly become registered as well, though he now enjoys it. Lea owns a specialized dulcimer while Kato has and can play his adungu. They’ll play as a duet for the kids sometimes, who always enjoy their little performances.

⬆️ Donna the chameleon-iguana!

She herself has barely any recollection of what she’s like. She remembers slipping away... and then ‘waking up’ in PaRappa Town. after an unpleasant run-in with a certain flower girl, Donna is guided towards the Otto home with the help of a kind rapping dog. She was shaken from the experience still, and simply finds vacancy there.

She wasn’t willing to open up to anyone there, yet finds an unlikely friend in someone called Theo. With his roundabout help and the eventual help of the others who live there, she manages to recover from her past experiences and unlock her past, so that she can finally put her best foot forward.

Donna had untreated juvenile arthritis, and now consequentially has joint damage from it, among other things. She wears loose clothes and has long ties attached to zippers in order to help her move with less strain.

⬆️ Theo the bugbot!

He is an old, cranky, pessimist grump who always has something snarky to say. You’d be lucky if he didn’t directly tell you straight to your face. Doesn’t acquaint much with the other people in the Otto household (where he resides), until he met Donna. They form an unlikely friendship - his abrasive attitude was what she needed to address her problems, and in turn, she helps him be less of an ass.

Congenitally amputated legs, so he attaches large wheels to spurs to get around. He also has pulmonary fibrosis that developed from sarcoidosis. He wears a powerful respirator he had built himself everywhere outside of his room. Hoists oxygen tanks on his back thanks to a vest he designed for himself. Theo also has a sort of addiction to chocolate - the one he wasn’t able to kick. He was very self-destructive in his youth, though he begrudgingly takes better care of himself now.

Theo is talented at home improvement, as can be seen with his assisted living tools. Though he’s embarrassed over it for multiple reasons, he can play the hurdy-gurdy quite well, and does so often when he’s alone in his room. He even played for Donna on one occasion, though he wouldn’t dream of showing the other people in the house his playing skills.

⬆️ Angel the anteater and Cupcake the sugar glider!

Angel was an overachieving student at the college, going for a degree in writing, until the day she became sick with what she thought was the flu. But after weeks of rest, she became worse and worse - and was eventually diagnosed with myalgic encephalomyelitis (commonly known as chronic fatigue syndrome). She joined a support group so as not to be alone during this time. and met Cupcake, who instantly took a liking to her.

Cupcake has Crohn’s disease, and visibility problems due to complications with Crohn’s disease. She had to radically change her diet from before; she eats plenty of honey which helps, but misses cocoa products. The two live together in one dorm, with Cupcake not even hesitating to help Angel with whatever she needs. She always wanted to be a nurse, though she was teaching as Home Ec now.

When Angel inevitably loses her schooling and thus her dorm, the two move in together into Otto’s home. Angel gives what she can by helping the kids with their school curriculum. Cupcake helps her with that, and also teaching the kids other things they need to know. Angel is able to play the harp, while Cupcake plays the harpsichord. They make a fantastic duo, both as a duet and otherwise.

⬆️ Gilly Gary the garden snail!

A boy with the voice of an angel, Gilly was one of the foster kids at Otto’s home before being adopted by a quadruplet slug singing group. They all have a dream of being able to make it big performing all over the world - but until then, they perform at small venues all across PaRappa Town. They’ll sometimes even host fundraisers for homes and institutions that need it.

Though Gilly wants to be a star in the singing world, he doesn’t take much seriously. He just wants to goof off and have fun! He and Lonnie would raise trouble together, seeing as they brought the most mischievous side out of each other.

Gilly had his leg amputated at a young age due to a rapidly spreading infection, and uses Lofstran crutches to support himself. He really doesn’t care, though since he’s a bit of a fashionista (he adores the aesthetic of the mid to late 70s), he won’t EVER cut off a pant leg, and resigns to tucking it in instead. It comes in helpful when trying to sneak stuff into the movie theatre haha funni reference

⬆️ Pekh the wolf-rooster!

This is a cheerful, euphoric man who rises up early every day to greet the sun. He is incredibly happy with himself, and chivalrous - anything he has, he immediately gives to someone else. He already knows he’s glorious, so someone else should have it instead! Though, he isn’t really the sharpest beak on the block. He may be easily confused by something you say, but he’d support you all the way.

His kidneys don’t work very well, and so he gets a dialysis 3 days a week, but takes care of his body otherwise. Why wouldn’t he? He’s the best! On his way to the doctor office, he’ll yodel aloud to himself and everyone around, and will continue while getting the dialysis done. He has an AV fistula in his left arm. He wanted the graft, but the fistula was the better option.

Some people are a bit annoyed by his self-euphoria, but others find it endearing. His family (everyone in the Otto household) see him as a beacon of happiness - Lonnie looks up to him, Theo gets irritated by his bubbliness, while everyone else in the house cheers him on.

~

And that’s the 2nd round of disabled OCs! I had a blast designing them all. I still have so many more that have yet to be 100% done yet (and i even have the first round to shine up and reintroduce)! I’ll see yall when i put up round 3! These were so exhausting to draww

[tipsydipsydo]

Just let me love him! 

Request: "hey! may i request an imagine where namjoon has a boyfriend (male transgender) and they decide to make their relationship public but maybe not all the fans being supportive / respectful of it? and namjoon rlly pissed off by the comments online and making posts to half educate them & half being shady haha thank u :("

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Namjoon x transgender Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: mentions of Homophobia and Transphobia; mentions of hate towards the LGBTQ+ Community

A/N: Well... what should I say? I think I'll write every request individually without specify how long my writings would be. It really depends on my own idea for that request. This here took some time because I had to make some research and thought a lot about, how I want to write it.

That's also the reason why it ends up to be so long, because it was important for me to write that really long statement that Namjoons makes in here in the full version.

[Links]:

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Blog Navigation!

I hope you all will like it! 💕

(Even when I researched things, when there is something that doesn't fit so well into the fic, please inform me 🤗)

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

He should have guessed it. He should have noticed it, before the vlog would be uploaded. No, he should have known it! He should have known that it'll happen when this information gets to the public.

And at the same time he should have known that there are also some black sheeps among the ARMYs.

Although the large majority is very open, liberal and supportive, there are still some people who call themselves an "Army" and "support" them, but they're also very open when they don't like something.

It could be their new outfit, their new haircut or, like now, their lifestyle and their relationships. When something deviates from their idealized image, which means that his members and he no longer correspond to the overly perfect image of that Army, they start hating.

There aren't many, but they still exist. Sadly.

And all of that just starts because of a scene and the one sentence he had said to explain it.

Yesterday he uploaded a self-made vlog on the occasion of his birthday, in which he simply wanted to take the Armys through his day and show them, how he's spending his birthday this year. Nothing "bad", right?

You two made your relationship public three months ago. Of course, after this public announcement, the excitement was big and pretty much every korean and even some international boulevard magazines as well reported about it. Who could ever have guessed that there will be a young man at the side of the world known K-Pop Idol Kim Namjoon instead of a woman??

The biggest gossip subsided after a week and since two months pretty much everything turned out to be quite normal again. Namjoon and you get a lot of encouragement and support for your relationship from the vast majority of fans, you already have an official shipping name (and Namjoon has to admit that it sounds really cute!) Beside that, fanarts of you two have been already created, based on the few couple pictures that Namjoon recently posted in their Twitter account.

However, Namjoon "only" introduced you as his boyfriend. He hadn't told the whole publicity that you were transgender and "actually biologically a woman". Why should he?

You identify yourself as a boy, just you weren't born as such, which is why you want to adapt your gender to your actual identity. It's not more than that and all that just means that you are his boyfriend, nothing else.

Joon just introduced you as his partner and not that you are female to male transgender because that has actually nothing to do with your relationship.

And then there was the thing with his birthday vlog. He had thought that this little thing wouldn't attract attention, probably because it had become so normal for him.

You brunched together in a restaurant on the day of his birthday, enjoyed the good food together and laughed a lot. Really nothing so unusual when you go out to with your partner.

This was followed by the fateful scene that has caused all of these comments now.

You two were so deep in your conversation that you completely forgot to pay attention to the time. However, you still had a doctor's appointment that day, which is why you rushed out of the restaurant in a hurry.

You just noticed it a bit too late that you'll have a doctor's appointment for your next testosterone injection on Namjoon's birthday. But you could't and didn't even want to re-arrange a new appointement because you need the renewal in a relativly regular interval.

So the vlog only showed a few seconds where you two sprint stressed but also laughing to a taxi, so that you'd somehow still belong halfway to your actual time of the appointment in the doctor's office.

When you get your injection, Joonie waits for you in the empty waiting room and explain shortly in the vlog, why this appointment is so important.

"Unfortunately, my sweetheart was born in the wrong body and to be able that he can live with his correct gender identity, he has to go to the doctor to get his dosis of testosterone."

And that was it actually. After that you went back to your shared apartement, where the boys surprised Namjoon with a little birthday party. Congratulated their leader for getting older and then unpack all the presents together. With it, the vlog was uploaded. Namjoon and the boys had given no further thought to this "new piece of information" that turned out be the reason for these controversial comments under his vlog. Simply because it's already become normal for everyone. You are a transgender, but you're just Namjoon's Boyfriend for everyone. Nothing more.

Nevertheless, some "fans" don't see it that way, they even starts questioning if it's correct to call you Namjoon's "boyfriend" because you just can't be a "real boy". After this comment all the other ones only got even more worse.

Namjoon got the opportunity to read the comments when he already was on his way to the studio. He had wondered this morning why you were so silent and inwardly at breakfast. He had ask you gently if something happed or if you're not feeling well. But you just shook your head and said that you slept badly. Namjoon doesn't ask further because he was sure, that you woulf know that you can always be completely honest with him. And Namjoon doesn't want to blame you, that you would be lying to him, so he just gives you a loving smile.

How wrong he was when he read through all these awful comments under the vlog.

The other members have seen these comments too, they're so damn furious, with what kind of words you're called in there and that some of the them wished that Namjoon would please break up with you.

They should've trained the new choreography today, but this incident is now much more important and the way how they want to deal with it. They came to the decision to make a clear statement.

Actually it's planned that Jimin make a vlive today, but they decide that Namjoon should make it instead due to the situation.

He himself is not so sure yet whether he should really do it today, the anger about these disrespectful comments is still too big and he cannot promise not to say rude things to the fans himself as well. He wants to give them a better role model than to hate each other. However, he's becoming more and more aware of the importance of publishing his vlive today.

Because you're his boyfriend and through your relationship, you get so much more attention, which unfortunately also increases the possibility of harrassing you, for what you are, a lot more. He brought you into this situation, so Namjoon also feels obliged to stand up for you and show you that he's absolutely not going to accept something like that!

In addition, it's so important to him and all the other members to show that they will accept hate and harrassing of LGBTQ+ people in no way.

It breaks Namjoon's heart when he comes home and sees your red, swollen eyes, testifying that you cried. He had tried countless times to contact you throughout the day, but you neither answered his calls nor his text messages.

The last time when you were online in the messenger was tonight. Probably when you read all these terrible comments.

"Hey baby...", Namjoon whispers softly as he comes up to you and closes his arms around your body, pressing you tightly, almost protectively against his chest.

"I know what happened. I read everything."

With these words your body begins to tremble in his arms, you press your face into the crook of his neck and a little sob comes from your lips.

Namjoon holds you, strokes his fingers gently through your hair and whispers sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down.

You take a trembling breath in and say in a broken voice: "I am so sorry that I am causing you and the others such problems..."

When these words comes over your lips, Namjoon takes your tear-streaked face in his hands and gently kisses your tears away.

"No, no, no, my love! Don't say things like that, they're absolutely not true! You are not the problem, definitely not! The problem are these people out there who just don't want to accept that not all people can’t identify with the gender they’ve been born with. Maybe because it’s just so normal and natural for them to be a girl or boy. Apparently these people cannot put themselves in your shoes, what it's like to feel like a boy or girl but stuck in the body of the opposite sex. Apparently they don't even tried to imagine what it would be like if they weren't born a what they are. How it would be to be born in a different body with their previous gender identification. You are not the problem. The problem are the people who cannot listen to you, at least to understand how debiliating this situation is for you. So instead of Jimin, I'm going to do the vlive today and I'll talk with Armys about it. I will tell them that I will not tolerate Transphobia and any other Phobias of the LGBTQ+ community at all."

Your swollen eyes snaps open and you look at Namjoon in disbelief. As you want to open your lips to ask him, if he's really sure about that because he could get even more hate for that, he already knows what you're about to say.

Before these words can leave your lips, he quickly presses his owns on yours and gives you a gentle kiss full of love.

"I want to do that, my love. I want to do this for you, for us, for our LGBTQ+ ARMYs and for all these other peoples. It's important for me to make this statement."

When you nod slowly, Namjoon released the embrace and gave you a last kiss on the lips.

Then he goes into the living room to the dining table, where his laptop is and logs in.

You go quietly to the couch and wrap yourself up in your favorite blanket. To be honest, you don't really know what to expect. Before Namjoon starts his vlive, he looks at you and forms a silent "I love you" with his lips.

"Hey guys. I know Jimin should be sitting right here infront of the screen and doing his vlive with you. However, something happened tonight that I want to talk with you about it. I think you already know, we uploaded my Birthday vlog yesterday and there are comments written which are absolutely terrible and I'm not going to accept that under any circumstances.", Namjoon starts the vlive.

Today there is no trace of his usual playful and childish behavior, which he shows so often in his vlives. He's absolutely serious.

"Some of you are asking why you just got the information now, that Y/N is transgender and why we didn't tell you right away with our relationship announcement. I decided against it for the simple reason that it doesn't matter in our relationship. Y/N doesn't identify with his biological gender, although his body may be female, he is actually a boy who unfortunately was born in the wrong body. He is a boy and therefore he is my boyfriend."

"I introduced him to you as my boyfriend, because it doesn't matter who he was before, what gender he has from birth. It should only be about who he is now, who can he be now, that he's able to be finally that person who he want to be. We should finally give these people, like Y/N, the opportunity to live in the gender identity they are, without always saying 'But you are in reality woman, right?'."

"No, not really, in reality is Y/N a man. Can we please finally give them the opportunity to live in the gender with which they identify themselves. So when they should identify with the specific genders like male and female. And if that's not the case, if you assign yourself as nonbinary, it's perfectly okay! After all, there is still so much space between these two genders! We should give all of them the opportunity to simply live the way they are."

"That's why I think, that we all should be very happy, that we can identify ourself with our biological gender! Therefore, we should help all the other people to find their right gender when their biological gender doesn't suit them! And that they're able to show themself in public."

Namjoon takes a deep breath after this long monologue and grabs to his water glass to drink a bit. While doing this, he read all the new comments that pops up. They are very different, some are positive and supportive and then there are these other comments, literally saying how he can talk such a shit. 'There are only two genders, nothing between them and everyone has to be able to identify with their own gender!'

It is precisely in this conflict that he realizes again that ignorance and the lack of will to understand each other are two of the major problems.

"As I read your comments, one thing caught my eye very clearly. We're talking too much about each other than with each other."

"I know, as a person who can identify themself fairly well with their biological gender, it's pretty hard to imagine what it would be like if it weren't. And because of that, we have to talk about it. I know that all transgender or generally all LGBTQ+ people are tired of having to explain their gender identity or their sexuality all over again and again. Having to explain, why they are the way they are now."

"But I think that it'll be the only way to remove these stereotypes and prejudices, as well as fear of 'this unknown thing' and thus all these unjustifiably phobias and racism. Just because a person cannot identify with their biological gender doesn't mean that you have to change yours too! It means, that you should simply accept and respect it! However, we should give all these people the chance to finally develop in such a way that they can really be themselves. Regardless of whether they are assign themself as male, female or no specific gender."

"There are still so many questions in the room that result from pure lack of knowledge. And that's normal, of course, we can't know everything, but we can learn something new every day. Ask each other questions, so that you have the opportunity to be able to imagine yourself into the position of an other person. So at least try to understand how the other person must feel. It's a long way but we should try to finally remove this hate that is caused by ignorance and misunderstandings."

"There are always two peoples involved in a conversation. That's why I appeal to the LGBTQ+ community to be still patient with us, even if you're already so sick of it. You must have the feeling of literally speaking against a wall... And all people who identify with their biological gender and are heterosexual, so you practically correspond to the 'ideal image' of society with it, should listen to the LGBTQ+ Community and ask questions, so that these prejudices and this hate can finally be stopped and we all are able to live peacefully together. I know, this idea is utopian, but we can still try to get as close as possible to this utopia of a peaceful coexistence of all peoples."

Namjoon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment before dropping the statement.

"And who, after my monologue, still refuses to simply ask the peoples questions when they don't understand something and still prefer to think about them in prejudices, please unfollow BTS and BigHit Entertainment."

Your eyes are round like plates and your mouth opens, want to say something, but no words comes over your lips.

In the corner of his eye, Namjoon sees how the comment section with messages literally explodes.

"I am not saying this out of pure selfishness just because I am angry and hurt. I am saying this because all members agree with this statement. We decided for this statement together."

"Of course we know, that you're still able to see all of our things, we cannot forbid you from listening to our music. But we all wanted to talk about this topic once. BTS and the Army community should be a safe space for all Armys, regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation. We wanted to make sure that all Armys in our large community are welcome and that they'll be respected in the way they are."

"The members and me just need to know that we all can be honest with you and don't have to hide anything. That we can be sure you’re supporting us really. We just want that all peoples that follow us, are trying their best to understand each other. Of course, we all will never agree at the same point of view and that's a good thing! But we should respect each other's gender identity, sexual orientation and opinion. Because in the end we all are just humans. No more, no less."

"I would like to come to an end of this vlive for today. And for all haters out there, I'm not going to break up with Y/N. Please just respect that I love him. Exactly the way he is!"

With these words, Namjoon goes offline and closes the laptop, smiling at you softly when he comes to you on the couch.

"I love you. Please don't forget that," he whispers in your ear as he slips under the blanket and snuggles up to you.

Like I wrote it in Namjoons statement, I try my best to imagine myself into your position even when I never made these experiences (and probably never will) you had to make. That's why I'm always open to talk and listen to you, to learn new things about it!

And even when I'll never be able to understand you "really", then I'll make sure that you know that I still care for you guys, okay?

Love you 💜

[consultingsister-aa]

five times kissed (seb and cee but alt politics for spice)

THIS MEME for: @epiitaphs verse: alt poltical 

I.

It had started on their very first lecture with Professor Campbell. Celia has answered his question with ease, she knew all the dates, all the facts, all the names. She was just getting ready to bask in the glory of already identifying herself as best in the class when a voice, a male voice, two rows back started.

“Actually, wasn’t it Nicholson, not Nicholas?”

It was a ridiculous, unimportant fact. There was no need for him to even point it out; it didn’t change any fo the facts of the case. As Celia turned to shoot daggers at the boy, he smiled at her. Not a friendly, apologetic smile but a gloating, lazy grin. She hated Sebastian Moran.

Over the term, they continued in this fashion. Every time Celia or Seb raised a hand to answer a question, the other would sit up, lean closer, wait for someone to slip up. If there was nothing to be corrected, they offered a rebuttal. “While I see where Miss Holmes is coming from…” matched “I can understand where Moran would get that idea, however…”. It was a careful and considered game of intellectual tennis and no one was enjoying it quite as much as each other.

Six weeks in, Campbell would pause after every comment made by either and look to the other. On their final day in class before the Christmas break, after Celia had offered an almost perfect argument for the case, Campbell looked to Seb. As did Cee. Seb simple raised his hand and offered a shrug. “I think she’s right.”

Celia was furious.

They had never spoken outside of class before, other than to offer snide remarks as they waited outside the lecture hall. She found out where his room was from a friend and, upon finding it, knocked gently. And then harder. And then, harder still, banging her fist against the door. She could hear him shouting I’m coming, I’m coming from inside but continued to hammer, until he yanked the door open. As he took her in, that stupid arrogant smile returned.

“What did you mean when you said, I think she’s right? What did you mean by that?”

Seb gave a disbelieving laugh. “That you were… correct? Do you want to have a fight over that?”

“No, but you fight me on everything else. So why not today?”

“I thought you were right today.”

Celia gave a furious little huff and stormed away from his door, only to storm right back to him. “You know what I think? I think-- I think you’re an arsehole, with no manners.”

“Yeah? Well, I think you’re a spoiled brat who’d never heard the word no, in her life.”

Cee steps closer to him, teeth bared in a snarl. In fact, she’s so close she needs to tilt her head to talk to him. There are only a couple inches in their heights, but with their chests nearly touching, it matters. “I am cleverer than you. I will do better than you. I will bury you.”

His smile doesn’t drop as she hoped, in fact, he arches an eyebrow. “Is that a promise, Holmes?”

An actual growl escapes her before she throws her arms around his neck and smashes her lips against his. He reciprocates, despite himself maybe and before long, he’s letting her pushing him back into his room, slamming the door behind her. A whole semester of foreplay had been leading to that moment and they did not disappoint.

II.

Celia loved being married. Although she had not taken her husband’s name, there was something in the way her lecturers said Ms. instead of Miss that set her apart from her fellow students; especially the girls. It was that drawn-out zzz sound that did it. She was a head above the rest of them; one step closer towards the finish line. When her friends said boyfriend, she might have laughed at them, how immature. How childish. They wouldn’t know until they knew.

And this wasn’t all in her head either. Despite themselves, despite their education and personal ambition, the girls around Cee felt it too. Celia knew things they wouldn’t know for years; the secrets of a wife. Even though some of the girl’s condemned marriage as a modern form of slavery they too fell into the trappings of 1950. Everything had changed and nothing had. When Celia lay out her hand on the table, catching her ring in the light, they sighed enviously as Celia had hoped. What did it matter about her masters in law, when she had a man. Personally, she’d rather have the degree but she knew, as she moved forward in life, it would be her ability to find, capture and keep a man that everyone would be really impressed by.

It was for this reason that they gathered with her outside the lecture hall, where she had agreed to meet Seb on that Friday night. They wanted to be witnesses to it, as if being in close proximity to a married couple brought them closer towards marital bliss themselves. Cee didn’t say very much. She played it off as unbothered coolness but in reality, she was distracted by the conversion by her own excitement. It wasn’t exactly Seb she was excited for, but just to be seen with him again. To become the weekly gossip; what did Cecelia do with her husband this weekend? They all wanted to know what these strange married creatures do.

“Oh, is that him now?” A friend piped up, trying to cough over her excited squeal. Cee might have laughed at her; as if you don’t know. She looks up and lazily closes her book.

“Yeah. Alright, see you on Monday.”

“Are you not coming to Sunday study night then?”

“Oh, I forgot. I’ll see what Seb is doing. I actually might need to go into the city with him for a dinner with his boss, or something.” She rolls her eyes to make it look like she can’t be bothered with it. It’s not even true, there was a dinner the week and no partners were invited but it gave Celia a prick of pleasure to imagine them all discussing it at the Sunday study night.

She doesn’t run into his arms, instead closing the gap between them with a slow, casual walk and an easy smile. They were close enough that Seb could call out to the other girls and wave. It was nice of him to throw them a bone, Cee thought.

When she did greet him, it was with a hand on the back of his neck so she could pull him down for a long, deep kiss. In fact, knowing the girl’s eyes were on them, she stayed longer than normal.

“What was that for?” Seb asked, pulling back from her.

“Nothing. Just happy to see you. How was your train?”

III.

It wasn’t fair to say that Cee and Seb weren’t affectionate. Sure, they didn’t hold hands unless they needed to and loving embraces tends to either come before or after sex but they had their moments. People noticed the way, if Seb was setting, Celia would stand behind him and squeeze his shoulders. Or, if something thrilling, shocking or wonderfil happened, they would immediatly look towards one another, if to check in, or delight in it. And while they slept on the same side of the bed due to the fact Seb refused to get buy a double bed for the four years they slept together in university, they still did it. They had to count for something. There was cards or flowers or weekly dates but that didn’t mean there wasn’t love. Cee loved Seb more than anyone in the world and she was quiet confident he felt the same way.

Which is what made Katherine’s death all the harder. A casm had opened up between them and she saw no real way to get over it. The evening they had returned home to an empty nursery, Celia had feverishly Googles how she was supposed to feel; how to deal with the loss of a child; the staged of grief. Her own feelings didn’t align with any of them.

What she really felt was annoyance. The plan that they had agreed to had fallen apart. All that work for nothing. And there was now a black stain on her history. A bump on the road. They would have to tell people, for the next couple weeks, everyone would skirt around her like she was a wounded animal they didn’t know what to do with. How did you comfort Cecelia Holmes when she had no interest in being comforted? How to comfort Sebastian Moran, then?

She stood in the baby pink bedroom, gripping onto the cot rail, willing herself to feel the loss. The sweet little baby; that looked like every other bbay she had ever seen. So a future lost; one likely filled with trauma and resentment, with her as a mother. She banged her palm against the wood and swore. It was only then she realised Seb was behind her. Her movement was guilty, spinning around and holding her hands begind her back as if she had something to hide.

“I was just thinking of packing some things away.” She cleared her throat, motioned around the room. “I’ll ask someone if there is somehwere we could send it. Thinking of others in our time of grief, it’s a good look.” She could hear herself plotting and regretted it but it was all she wad capable of. Celia let go of the cot and moved to hold him, her arms around his shoulders, her mouth at his ear. “We’ll get through this. I think it was meant to be this way; just the two of us.” She almost said she preferred it this way but that felt too harsh; too soon. “If you need to talk to someone, perhaps you should? Better to deal with it now then have it drag out.”

When she pulled back, she held onto his face, more tired than she had seen it in a long time and she knew she was getting it all wrong. Cee, who always knew what to say, had nothing. So she kissed him instead and tried, probably failing, to put more into it than she could manage. The key phrase however was, I’m sorry. Sorry she’s not a good wife, sorry their child died and she’s talking about press opportunities, sorry he got his hopes up, sorry nothing will come of this.

IV.

“--THE PRESS ASSOCIATION IS REPORTING MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AND UNCONFIRMED FATALITIES JUST OUTSIDE THE HOUSE OF COMMONS--”

“Sydney, turn that up, turn that up!”

The TV’s picture, perched on top of a filing cabinet only offered shaky phone camera footage of the street Celia knew well. In fact, with one of the sudden movements upward, she was sure she could see Seb’s office window. The clipped tones of the BBC new anchor filled the room.

“--IS UNDERSTOOD THAT THE LONE MAN DROVE INTO A CROWD OF PEOPLE OUTSIDE PALACE OF WESTMINSTER AND THEN CONTINUED ON FOOT, WHERE HE BEGAN STABBING--”

“Call my husband, call him now, his mobile.”

Celia is already pulling on her jacket, eyes glued to the TV but listening out for the rings. By the third ring, she’s heading to the door. Usually, no rings meant he was in a meeting; the phone was on don’t disturb and she’d have to call back another two times for it to even go through; something she hadn’t ever had to do yet. If he was talking with someone, briefly, he would hang up after one ring. Past three rings, with no pick up? She didn’t remember the last time.

“Cee, you shouldn’t go into--” Syd stood up behind her desk but Cee held up a hand.

“Text me if there are any updates worth knowing. Call him again, keep calling him.”

There was no point trying to get a taxi, if there really was a terrorist attack happening in the middle of the city, it would be gridlock and the police wouldn’t be letting anyone in any way. So she would walk the twenty minutes to Seb’s office; she could cut it down to fourteen minutes if she kept up her brisk walk, ocassiaonlly, if panic set in, a restrained run.

Police tape, camera crews, ambulances and armed police officers surrounded most parliamentary buildings. The end of street was cordoned off but from her vantage point, she could see at least three sheets covering bodies. It was ridiculous to imagine Seb under one of them but it’s exactly where her mind went. She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself but she’d had a nagging feeling all day that something terrible was gong to happen, not just this, in London, but to her personally. She stares, unseeing at one of the sheets before a voice drifts across to her, one of the offers. “--Moran is going to--”

“What did you say?” She barks at him and a man seems to used to follow commands to argue with her, although she seems to have also scared him. “What did you say about Moran?”

Sheepishly, he draws closer. “Only that Mr Moran was directing his staff to--”

“To where?” Of course, of course, he’s alive. “Where is he?”

“I think they were going to Lady Chapel,” and then, as an afterthought, “ma’am.”

Celia didn’t hang around any longer that she needed to. She didn’t know why she ran this time, heels hitting the pavement with an ungodly amount of noise. If Seb was well enough to be directing people somewhere, there was no real need to worry. But something had shaken her when she had heard the news. It was the first time she had really considered what it might be like if Seb did die. They had been partners, in one way or another, for nearly fifteen years and all her future plans and hopes were pinned upon him.

She rounded the corner and stopped to catch her breath, smooth out her coat, look less worried. When she looked up, she saw him immediately; standing by the church’s doors, talking seriously with a police chief. He only glanced in her direction and had to do a double-take.

“What are you doing here?” Seb asked, moving over to her.

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Annoyingly, she’s still breathless.

“Bit of an emergency. Did you run?”

Maybe to avoid the embarrassing question, maybe because she was so relieved to see him standing, she threw her arms around him and kissed him, with slightly more passion than normal. She couldn’t say for sure, but she thought Seb kissed her back with a matched ferocity and held her a little tight than normal too. Maybe he was glad to see her too.

[mrneighbourlove]

Burnt Heart: Ch 6. Trading One Pain for Another

At the Hylian Kingdom's castle, a Hasai in armour gave the King of Hyrule a respectful bow. His militia waited outside castle grounds for him to return, and he had traveled a long way to do arrive to this country. Before he could start his mission, the Hasai wanted to be civil and cordially with the Hylian government. Would make things easier in the long run. "King Covarog. My name is Agent Hresvelg. As a member of the Dorami tribe to the Hasai people, I'm tasked in arresting criminals and securing runaways for her majesty, Emperor Zannah. I am here with a squad of Theron to acquire one such runaway. I ask for your blessing to bring back a Hasai hiding away here in Hyrule. I promise that lethal force, or even use of weaponry or magic will not be used unless absolutely necessary. We will be in and out without being even a nuisance to the lives of your people. Is this information to your liking?"

Covarog wanted to have his wife makeup some excuse that he could not be here at this meeting. He always hated dealing with diplomatic issues pertaining to Zannah. Even over the years, he still could not shake the feeling that the Empress was always up to no good. Still, he remained somewhat civil. So, when his wife dragged him tot he throne room, he did his best to be... cordial.

"A criminal or a runaway?" Covarog repeated. "You must understand my surprise. The Empire has such strict rules and regulations, that there are hardly any of the such."

"Might we ask exactly what this person has done?" Zarazu wished to have a bit more information. "If this person has caused harm to my citizens, I would prefer to deal judgement with Zannah, not apart."

"A runaway. We know that Hasai are allowed to live in Hyrule. We'd never take a citizen who freely lives in Hyrule away unless they committed a crime against the Empire itself. Even then, we'd discuss the matter with you first. This Hasai in particular we are after fled Empire territory with damaging information that could cause infrastructure in the Empire to be crippled for a time. We believe that they might be a threat to themselves, as well as others." Hresvelg gave a nod of his head to Covarog in particular. "My grand father was the once the war hero Grand Admiral Bellum. I believe you were only a child when our people were at war, but I think you would know him. He was a level headed man, known for keeping his word and keeping respect amongst allies and enemies. So please know, I swear on his grave and family legacy that we will not be a danger to your people in our operation."

"We understand, though, before you take this perpetrator back to the Empire, we would like to speak to this person." Covarog explained to Hresvelg. "Put a face to a name, and understand why this happened, especially if they were working with another unpleasant character here in Hyrule. We do not want either of our nations in turmoil."

"A fair request, don't you agree, sir?" Zarazu asked the agent.

Hresvelg shared his grand father's poker face. He was glad too, because how the hell was he supposed to respond to that. Sorry, but his Emperor ordered that the Hylian royalty not witness the target, but I'm sure you can understand right? And he loathed lying. "I'm afraid it's highly important that the runaway is brought back immediately to Empire territory for questioning. They are also a teenager, so I imagine their parents must be ready to deliver quite the earful to them for their misbehaviour. However, out of good faith, I promise I will bring to you alive and as unharmed as allowed any unsavoury characters we have found them with. Is this request acceptable?"

"A kid?" Zarazu now sounded concerned. "How can a teenager get such vital information?"

"You know as well as I do that some children are trained to be deadly, my queen." Covarog reminded her, knowing full well of the Empire's hostile tactics. "Very well. Bring them here."

That would be good enough to not have Hylian forces interfere. "As you wish."

And that wasn't him making a promise either. Leaving the castle, Hresvelg flashed a light in the sky. Flying above a single was received, and the command was given a go.

~

Two weeks had passed since Grievous had arrived. So many days since Zizi had left her house. The Waku girl didn't know how she could help patch the relationship of her father and his wife if she didn't return. In the meantime, she slowly dropped her guard around the family, yet it seemed that Kahli never opened up to her the way he did with his other children. To them, despite tensions, he was warm, attentive and loving. Everything a father should be. To her, he was still rather indifferent. Outside, she was playing on chess board with Urboro. Kahli forbad her from initiating challenges of physical combat, so Grievous thought of different ways to see which siblings she could defeat in some ways. "My knight takes your rook."

"Annnnd... checkmate." Urboro knocked over Grievous' king with her queen. "You left your king unguarded. A knight shouldn't leave his post unless necessary. Got a little too ahead of yourself there, Grivy. I think you should stick to checkers, you beat Manaco seven times already in that game."

Grievous looked at the board, stunned in disbelief. How did she miss that? Glaring at Urboro, she didn't like the fact that she made a bet over a game of chess. "Don't be a jerk. Best two out of three."

"I'm not a jerk, I'm just took extra lessons from Uncle Ralnor in chess." Urboro grinned widely at Grievous. "Do I detect a tint of..." She held over her eyes, pretending to look, teasing. "A sore loser?"

"I just don't like you undermining my value as an intellectual. Just name your stupid prize for winning." Grievous crossed her arms, embarrassed at her loss.

"You shall have the honor of painting my toenails." Urboro set down a jar of polish in front of Grievous. "And I will paint yours."

"Painting nails? I don't understand the need."

"Of course you don't…" Urboro opened the bottle. "It's to look pretty. Feel good about yourself. To catch someone's eye, make them notice you."

"Confidence? Like my face paint? But no one can see your toes under most circumstances." Grievous had a new thought enter her mind. She never had an opportunity to speak of such things with her other half siblings or other students at the academies she attended. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Your lover in bed can." Urboro winked at Grivy. "A girl has got to be prepared." At her question, Urboro stared at her. "Of course you're pretty. You got an adorable tail, a huge butt, your breasts aren't that big but so what, if you'd wipe off that face paint, I guarantee you'd have a date by the end of the day. I can give you some flirting pointers and---" She gasped. "We should go bar hopping. I can totally get you a guy with a shredded eight pack."

"Wait. Are you talking about sex?" Grievous tightened at her shoulders, her tail waging back and forth anxiously. Was her butt really that noticeable? Was it due to her tail? "I'm not well versed in such matters. Are you?"

"I'm dating a Hylian blacksmith who is built like a boulder." Urboro nearly purred. "Muscles and such a big dick. Size does matter you know, but also how they use it." Her jaw nearly dropped next. "You don't know about sex?! Wait... you haven't had sex before, have you?!" She nearly squealed. "Oh goodness, I'm so totally going to get you laid."

"B-b-but what about the life bond? Wait..." Grievous' mind raced, her thoughts unable stop herself from thinking information through, even for her own good. "Before I left, one on my older half siblings at the academy was caught in what an officer described to us as an 'oral act' with another student. They would have been punished, had they not discovered neither became overly attached. They thought it was a miracle and summarized it was due to us being half-bloods." She snapped out of her thinking when she saw Urboro only smile even more. "Wait! That doesn't mean I'm looking for sex right now! I must look so bizarre to the people of this land. Is it even that good?"

"We're halves, Grivy. You're half Dal, half Waku. I'm half Lorleidian, half Waku. The Hasai life bond doesn't apply to me." Urboro flipped back her hair in a showy manner. "So you're probably not bound by it either." She then giggled, "And bizarre? Grivy, anyone who is 'new' and 'unique' is translated as exotic. You'll have men chasing your tail. Literally." She then paused. "Unless you want a woman?"

"I, um, never gave that part of my life any consideration." Grievous paused, looking at the clear nail polish bottle. "... you never told me if its good or not."

"Yes, you silly, it is good." Urboro then instructed. "Now, hold still. Appearance is one thing, but adding a little accessory never hurt anyone." She expertly started to paint Grivy's nails. "Hrm. I think metallic purple is your color."

Holding still would have to come another day. From the corner of her eye, Grievous spotted a hand motion from behind the barn. If the Kikai Empire had drilled anything into her with her teachings at the military academy, it was military tactics and strategy. Not care for her own safety, Grievous dove past Urboro, causing nail polish to slip up her leg in stroke. With an open arm, Grievous lightly close lined her half sibling to the ground to safety as an electric ball skidded by her head, every hair standing on top as a result. It appeared she was to trust her instincts to move. The trajectory of the shot would have hit Urboro had she dived left or right instead.

Men in black armour from head to toe stepped out from cover, weapons for capture using slings or shock sticks drawn, but others had crossbows trained if more violent means were necessary. "DAL! GET ON THE GROUND!"

"EEEEEEKKK!!!" Urboro was not expecting a full tackle and released a loud 'oof' when she hit the ground, feet straight up in the air. When the ball of lightning sailed past the pair, Urboro knew that there was trouble. Either someone was after her or after Grivy or trying to hurt her father. More than likely, it was Grivy, but she hoped this could be resolved... peacefully and without electrocution. "Hold onto me!" Urboro instructed Grivy, "And hold your breath!"

With that, the earth opened and swallowed both of them.

Electric shots from slings could be heard sizzling against the earth, voices being garbled by the layer of dirt between them. "Encircle the house! She's not getting away."

Grievous did as she was told, however, being trapped fully under the earth was nothing like trying to breath under water. This was far darker and murkier than she'd like.

Outside, the Theron Elite wasted no time covering any exit that the house provided. Going from assassinations to bounty hunting was

It took nearly a full minute, but Grievous and Urboro emerged inside one of her mother's greenhouse's. Coughing, the Zemlja then apologized between breaths, "Sorry, it's COUGH been a while since--ACHOO! I had to do that."

"What about your siblings still back at the house? We have to go back. Where's father?" Grievous took deep breaths after having to hold it in a pinch.

"Mom has a COUGH emergency defense system of sorts." Urboro brushed some dirt off Grievous' clothes. "Oh wait, that's right, she didn't tell you about Venu'sa."

"A what?"

Back at the house, Kahli was waking up from the behest of one of his other children. "What is it?"

"Daddy, I think someone bad is outside." Zaltana was peering through the window, hugging her stuffed dragon. "Venu'sa isn't sleeping anymore."

"Let's get away from the window, shall we?" Chatima led his baby sister away from view.

"Dad, what's going on?" Huyana asked her father, exiting her bedroom. "Sakari and Satinka say that there's more Hasai outside."

Hasai? At his house? With his children here?! Kahli's eye grew with fury. He knew this was an inevitability with Grievous showing up and staying. No way in heaven or hell Zannah would allow the possibility of this secret to spread. He should have left sooner to see her, but with Zizi still gone, Kahli had a duty to look after his children. "Stay here kids."

Kahli tightened his fists as he went to his door. Sure enough, he saw vines slivering, but no attack made by the guardian as of yet. Theron trained their weapons on him from different areas, positioned around fence posts or trees, and Kahli paused, taking a deep breath to channel his energies for battle if necessary. "Get off my property."

Agent Hresvelg had a bow an arrow ready in his grip, shouting from behind the barn for cover, "Give us the girl Sir Kahli. We don't want any trouble."

"You coming here with weapons pointed at my house, at my children invites conflict. I don't care if you're special forces. I will burn you to cinders if you don't back away."

The Hasai looked to their field commander, unsure what to do. "Orders sir?"

"Do not engage. Sir Kahli! I think it would be best for everyone if we stayed calm and orderly. The Emperor values the girl’s life. This isn't an assassination."

"Then why did she send you now? The Theron are Zannah’s death squad."

Hresvelg paused at this statement. There was truth in that, but missions were a mission. "I have no reason to lie to you. My orders are my orders."

Before Kahli could start his eruption of fire to give them a warning, he felt his spine shudder from a collision of pain against him. The metallic punch of T0-D brought him to his knees. "Declaration: Agent. The target is not here. Search the plantations. She must have not gone far."

The Theron nodded, running off into pairs, only a few staying behind to give their commander support if need be.

Kahli grunted, turning his head to look up at the Android. "What the hell."

"Apology: I didn't want to have to hurt you, but it looked like an altercation was about to occur, and I'd like it if you didn't kill any of the pristine meatbags. Also, that was for failing to mention you had broken your arrangement with the Emperor. What were you thinking keeping the girl here? I know she's been staying here for a while."

The man couldn't kick the robot from under his feet, so he rolled away, immediately running between it and his house. "T0-D. Tell your men to stand down. I'm going to see Zannah regardless. But if you take the girl, we'll have problems."

"Curiosity: Oh? Like what?"

The Waku put a finger against his head, pushing his hair tightly. "Or I blow myself up."

~

Zizi had spent the last two weeks in the Forest Temple, meditating and listening to the earth. It calmed her. Between Skull Kid's pleasant company and reconstructing parts of the temple, she felt a bit like her old self. Actually, she felt younger, like she was relieved of burdens in some ways. If Skull Kid could work miracles, making her feel like a kid again was definitely one of his talents. It made her forget her worries and heartaches just for a little while. Though, she knew she had to face them at some point. So, the Zemlja sat in the middle of the temple and harnessed her magic, green energy floating throughout the structure, into the ground, and around her in the air. There, she conversed with Zemlja himself.

"You still don't think you can forgive him?"

"Why should I? He lied to me. Kept this from me."

"He couldn't reveal it. Hasai physiology is very different than Lorleidian."

"I know that! It's just... I've never felt this angry before. Not even at Vul'kar."

"You have a right to be angry." Zemlja offered wise advice. "But if you continue to let it eat at you, you will find nothing but misery. And here, you have been drowning in it."

"... I know."

"It's hard to let go of hurts sometimes, isn't it?"

"Very hard."

"Then perhaps you better focus on what you do have, before you lose it."

"I already feel like I've lost him."

"But have you?"

"... I don't know. Why would he even love me after I lashed out at him? Doubt him? ... I can't forget what he did."

"No, you won't, you never will. Though, you cannot blame all the blame on him."

"You're right... the blame is Zannah's."

"Correct, it is hers. Do you still wish to cause her this type of pain as well?"

"Yes. She hurt me. Hurt my family. I thought her a friend."

"Then you must be careful... and not be foolish. Patience is your friend."

"Lorleidians don't condone violence."

"And violence isn't needed."

"No. No it's not.”

"Be careful, Zizi, and leave your thoughts of Zannah behind for now. Your family needs you."

"... we'll talk again soon?"

"I'll be here if you need me."

And with that, Zizi was pulled out of her trance by the tugging of Venu'sa's activation.

"Skully!!!" Zizi hurried out of the temple to the earth. "I'll be back! Gotta go! I'll bring you some cookies next time!" Jumping into the open earth, the Zemlja moved through the ground as fast as the wind through the leaves. Kahli's distress... she could sense it. Something was wrong, something was very wrong, and she was not going to let anymore damage come to her family... and she arrived outside her home, right in front of Kahli. Was he going to kill himself? The woman tackled him with all her force, and pinned his arms to the side, sitting on him. "... Kahli..." She looked at him with a glare. "If you ever dare to do that again, I'll divorce you for sure."

Kahli fell to the ground, shocked by his wife suddenly appearing from nowhere to hit him to the ground. He stared at her for a moment, before slowly turning his attention at the more concerning issue. "Zizi... we have a more pressing matter."

T0-D's eye flashed between blue and red, his mind thinking over Kahli's threat. "Illogical: Your threat has no merit. If you kill yourself, not only will you fight against the life debt you owe, but you will be leaving behind your children. Not to mention, Hasai do not commit direct suicide. In all my years I've never seen such a thing possible. I don't believe that you could do it. Give us the girl or I can't promise people might get hurt in the process."

Zizi got to her feet, looking at the Hasai troops and T0-D. She had a giant frown on her face. This was, indeed, a more pressing matter, though she had to keep her in mind Zemlja's words. There would no room for being foolish. Zannah would know that she knew now. Nothing could change that.

"... I know about the girl, Tod." Zizi informed the robot. "And I know about the debt." She struggled to say the next words. "We may not have started off on the right foot, but... I thought we became friends after a while. Tell me," She took a sharp inhale. "That day you offered to help me bake cookies... were you just manipulating me like any other 'meatbag' so Zannah could stab me in the back?"

"Reflection: The Emperor instructed me to watch over you, yes. But it was I who wanted to take the time to get closer with you. Her order was very open ended Zizi. The Emperor and I knew that you'd never have agreed to the process. That you couldn't share Khali. Baking with you was a wonderful beginning to what I believe was your start for a friendship. However, I never expected to have doubts. I knew if you ever discovered the truth, you would not be able to accept it. And I dreaded to think on how you would view our relationship after due to me being told to keep you in the dark. Can you imagine? Me? Having dread? Illogical at surface level, and yet, a reality I must face. Here we are now. I'm sure that the girl told you everything now. Is it so bad though? They aren't treated badly. Every Hasai goes through military training. The new generation of Waku are merely being given extra training. They are still relatively young. They will be able to make other careers for themselves in the Empire if they so choose. Zannah did it for the greater good of the tribes and the Empire. Although, I can predict this hardly matters to you. Manipulation and being stabbed in the back were your choice of words was it not? I'm sure you feel this was merely a betrayal. I wonder how you look at me now. I wonder how you look at Kahli. Hurt no doubt. But can't you see logic was put forward? I'd gladly cook cookies with you again, yet I fear a 1 in 14,000 chance of that ever occurring again. Ah, I've spoken far too long. Kahli. You won't kill yourself, and I have my orders to bring the girl. Can you give me a logical explanation to not take her?"

"... so that's it. That's all it ever was. Boiling down to orders and commands and keeping secrets." Zizi was quiet for a moment before saying. "Friends don't treat friends like this, Tod. Orders or not. I don't know really what you feel or if you can even feel guilty. Dread? Sure, you felt that before when you had to fight a formidable foe. I remember, I was there when you fought Malik." She swallowed thickly, "Do you think I would have ever done this to Zannah? Or even to you, be it possible? ... then again, if Zannah never considered me a friend in the first place, just another pawn to be moved on her game board, I suppose my logic doesn't apply." The Zemlja was trying to keep tears from running down her face. "Everything was perfect. I was happy, my family was happy... and then this happened. And I... I can't begin to tell you how much I wanted to just... just scream. I wanted Kahli to hurt like I hurt. I lashed out at him, and I shouldn't have. I should have just kept my emotions in check, but I can't do that, Tod. I'm not... I'm not like Zannah. I'm not like you. I can't sacrifice one person for the whole. I want everyone to be okay and to be safe, and feel loved." Zizi then stated firmly. "And Grievous doesn't deserve at all to be treated like a tool. She's her own person. She deserves her own life. If she doesn't want to fight, if she doesn't want to go back, if she doesn't want to leave here, then she shouldn't have to. She's with family now, Tod. It doesn't matter that I'm not her mother, she's still mine in a way. I will protect her, she's innocent in all this. All she wanted was some answers. Does she deserved to be punished for that? She's a child." She asked the robot, trying to appeal to his sense of loyalty and regret. "Would you want me to drag you away from your family?"

Kahli stared at his wife, unable to find the words. All he had fill him was shame.

T0-D paused, raising a hand to his 'chin' to think. "Answer: The girl has a biological mother she lives with. She has hundreds of half siblings she knows at the academy. In more years, her training will be complete. What makes you so much more special? We all have a part to play Zizi. It is selfish to put yourself above the greater whole. Countries and Empires wouldn't be able to function if everyone was so selfish. You aren't her family. We'd be returning her to her real home. So, it is indeed different then if you were to try and take me away from my own family." His claw pointed towards Kahli. "Query: He is the father, but you are not the mother. This girl is not your responsibility. And my dread is a form of guilt I suppose. To have a friend has been eventful, joyful to certain receptors. It's nice to access my memory of these more joyful times. Now, I still see no reason to not follow my orders. Zannah holds her trust in subjects and in family. To her, friends cannot be a part of her life. Family she can pour her love into and know it is a bond only death can separate. Subjects, she has a loyalty to nurture her people and them in return give undying loyalty and respect. I do regret your pain Zizi Slatki. Zannah does to. But she did what she did for the greater good. I believe in her goals to bring prosperity to every subject of hers. As her family, and as her oldest subject, I have a duty to fulfil."

Kahli squeezed his wife’s hand. "Don't take the girl. I believe Zannah would find me to be a higher priority."

"Doubt: Why is that?"

"The life debt has lost its secrecy. It's chains around me are so much lighter. I believe that she'd want to speak to me to try and correct that, would she not?"

T0-D was still, calculating multiple possibilities to carry out next.

"I'm human, Tod. Humans are selfish, and my love is selfish, but in a good way. I don't care the Grivy isn't mine, she still showed up on my doorstep asking for help. That makes her my responsibility, even if Kahli doesn't want to acknowledge her." Zizi told the robot, literally shaking from grief and sorrow. "A good leader wouldn't try to hurt one of her subjects in this way. A good leader would consider what others want. A good leader would forget her stupid quest for power and conquest, and focus on her family and try to make friends with those who cared about her. Zannah is no leader... she is simply a manipulator." She asked him. "If Zannah doesn't want my friendship in her life, then she doesn't regret a single thing she's done. By the spirits, I was right about her this entire time, but I didn't want to see it. I wanted to believe Kahli about her, I wanted to believe you about her, but it's all dragon-shit. All Zannah cares about is power. That's the way it has always been." The Zemlja couldn't stop the tears now. "I doubt Zannah even cares about you, Tod. When has she ever asked what you want? I tried to amend my behavior towards you, I tried to treat you well, and you..." She choked on her words with a sob. "You tricked me. Zannah used Kahli. She threatened to take away my babies to get what she wanted. I tried so hard... so damn hard to believe in the better good of others, but it has done nothing but brought me pain and misery. Are you really going to make me lose faith in you too?"

"Reflection: I'm sure my soul is impure in your eyes. What I want is the betterment of the Empire I call home. The largest sacrifices require the strongest wills. And Zannah has steeled her will to take on any challenge. A good leader will sacrifice additional comforts to give her subjects all the essentials of living. A good leader uses her power for the betterment of those people. Zannah broke her friendships for the sake of bettering her people. She cared so deeply for her people that she made the heartbreaking choice to sacrifice her friendship with you. I calculate, given her condition, she might step down from her current position and elevate herself for the betterment of her people. I did trick you. I won't lie to you Zizi Slatki. Because I believed in her cause. Even if I didn't like the thought of seeing you hurt."

Kahli hugged his wife tightly, resting his head over her shoulder. With a kiss, he whispered into her ear. "Let me go. You can watch over Grievous while I find a way out of this debt."

So that was it... Tod admitted it. Both of them, Zannah and her robot, intentionally hurt her.

... what did she do to deserve this? What did her husband do? Her family?

"I don't want you to go." Zizi sobbed, holding onto Kahli tightly. "I want you to stay here. I want things to go back to how they were."

"I can try to make things right. You have to give me that chance. Please, I beg of you Zizi."

"Statement: I am honestly sorry to see I hurt you Zizi. Kahli, do you consent to seeing the Emperor?"

The Waku looked over his shoulder, hurt and angry. "Only if you call off your hunt for my daughter."

"Don't go, I don't want her to hurt you. I've already hurt you and I shouldn't have, and I don't want to lose you, I don't care if all your other kids show up on our doorsteps, please don't leave me. If Zannah takes you away, I'll be lost." Zizi begged her husband. "No, you're not." Zizi took a shaky breath. "You just told me, Tod. You believed in Zannah. You didn't believe in me."

"Additional Statement: Those two things aren't mutually exclusive in my eye. I see now, however, it would be illogical to try and change your mind. Goodbye Zizi Slatki."

Kahli gave his wife a peck on the cheek, rising away from her. "I won't let her. You have my love on that."

"You promise?" Zizi looked so... so defeated. So heartbroken. So sad. "I can't... trust her anymore."

"I promise to you. I promise on my unending love for you. She won't take me away from you."

Meanwhile, at the greenhouse, Theron guards finally found their target. On the left and right flank, two cornered Grievous and Urboro. They had crossbows ready to fire with the graze of a finger. "Don't. Move."

Agent Hresvelg entered centre stage, taking off his helmet. Grievous expressed surprise at seeing him. "Teacher?"

The man's purple eyes looked sad and tired to see her. "Why did it have to be you Grievous. You had such promise."

"I wanted freedom my mother wouldn't give me. That the Empire couldn't give me."

"That why you decided to come specifically to Hyrule? To your birth father?"

"I wanted to see him too. Teacher. I'm not going back."

"Grievous. You're one of my most outstanding students. You've shown so much potential, and you want to throw it all away? You could be a great commander if you put your mind to it."

"But that's not the life I want." She planted her feet, grinding her fingers into her palm as she made a fist. "I want to fight my own battles. I want to fly where ever I want. I want a parent who loves me. I want siblings I can actually who aren't so laser focused in following the Empire. I- I want to learn what sex is like after going to bars with my sister. " She unexpectedly gripped Urboro's hand, wanting to feel her support.

Hresvelg frowned, perhaps a little disgusted by her behaviour. "Because of your desertion, the Empire wants you out of sight and out of mind. You might have been able to have been able to have the future you wanted in ten more years with hard work. You were always a serious student. You took your training seriously. You didn’t have time for foolish behaviour. It's why you were given the name Grievous."

"But that's because you all raised me that way. It’s all I knew. That life might be acceptable to the others, but not to me."

The agent drew a flint lock, cocking the gun in the direction of Grievous’ heart. "I have to ask you to come with us. At this range, you can't do your little disappearing act. And I truthfully don't want to hurt you or the girl. I will give you the count to three. 1."

Grievous didn't move, her body spreading out to protect Urboro from fire.

"2."

Just before he got to three, another Theron appeared behind him. "Sir. The mission is being called off by General T0-D."

"What?"

"We are to leave with Sir Kahli back to the Empire to deliver him directly to the Emperor."

"I see..." Hresvelg put his pistol away back into his holster. "Well Grievous. I don't know when I will see you again, but I hope you are serious about your current life choices."

"I am."

Seemingly satisfied, Agent Hresvelg turned to leave. The Theron at the sides disappeared as silently and as quickly as phantoms.

"Wait, they're taking Dad?!" Urboro looked a bit afraid. Her mother always warned her that Zannah could have a horrible temper. If they were taking her father away, what would happen? "Grivy, what's going on?!"

“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” Both the girls picked themselves up and ran to the house. When they arrived, however, all the Hasai were gone. All that remained was a distraught Zizi lying on her knees, with other children gathering with confusion.

Manaco had rushed from work to his parents' house when he heard the rumors of Hasai being present in Hyrule. When he saw his mother on the ground, and no indication of his father's presence, he feared the worst. Either Zannah was going to kill his sire or keep him prisoner... or worse.

"What should we do, Manaco?" Keira asked her elder brother. "They took Dad. That robot was here too. It must be serious if Tod was here."

"I... I don't know what to do." Manaco told his sister honestly. "I think that the only thing we can do is wait."

“Wait? What about the well being of our father? Aren’t you fighters?” Grievous questioned, guilt heavy on her mind. It was becoming clearer to her that he took her place. But why?

"Grivy, there's five of us that are of age. We are all good fighters, and we can defend ourselves, but taking on an army is not within our capabilities." Ahusaka informed his sister with a heavy sigh. "Even we know when to admit we're no match for a battle."

"Unfortunately, he's right." Manaco admitted. "We... we need to take care of Mom for now, and just wait. That's all we can do without endangering the rest of our family."

Grievous’ tail curled low, her feelings on the matter heavy. Turning to Zizi, she barely got the words out with a steady tone. “I’m sorry I came here. I’m sorry they took him away. I’m sorry I broke you two up. Kahli is a good man. He loves his children. He loves you. I shouldn’t have come here if I had known you’d be hurt so deeply.”

"It's not your fault, Grivy." Zizi felt so... hollow. Empty. "You're not responsible for this... Zannah is."

"I'm going to take Mom inside," Manaco told his siblings. "Will all of you try to calm Venu'sa down? She doesn't need to be grabbing a stranger and eating them."

"We can do that." Urboro assured her brother. "Take care of Mom."

"Grivy, we could use your help watching after the younger ones." Miku asked. "Do you mind?"

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Miss Zizi? You’ll give Father another chance will you not?”

"I will, I just... it's hard to process all of this." Zizi said very softly. "I'm so exhausted..."

"That's okay, Mom. You can rest. We'll take care of everything." Manaco lifted his Mom into his arms, carrying her. He had never seen her so tired before, not even in the hot sun working with plants. He was worried, and it showed. "We'll keep Urboro away from the stove too."

"I heard that, you fu---fudge-head." Urboro had to catch her language in front of her smaller siblings.

Grievous turned to find the little ones. She hoped she knew what her father was doing. In so many ways, today had taken so many losses.

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/612492318747082752/burnt-heart-ch-5-reflection

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/612606875698085888/burnt-heart-ch-7-burning-bridges-repairing

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse. Shared Extended World with @s-kinnaly

[solecize]

REPLY 2009 ⠀ ⠀⠀.⠀⠀.⠀⠀.⠀(OR: 2009, YEAR OF US) — 002.

now playing: club no. 1 by super junior

summary: ten years ago, we found ourselves at a turning point in pop culture as the decade began to close. this was the year that brought the world obama, the death of michael jackson, and the highest grossing film of all time, avatar. however, in south korea, something big was brewing as well and it started off with infectious lyrics, colourful costumes, and sensational dance moves: kpop. the korean wave that started to build several years ago begins to find its footing in the international limelight in 2009. this was the golden era of kpop. this was the time of sorry, sorry. the debut of quite possibly the most different and groundbreaking girl group in korean entertainment, 2NE1. the rise of shinee, one of the most consistent boy bands of this era and beyond. the throne of bigbang would remain steady with their ventures into japan. and of course. . . snsd's gee that would solidify their place as the nation’s girl group and overtake their male counterparts. nothing can touch this legendary age.meanwhile, in the very city that milled and churned out these stars, eight teenagers were also coming to a certain close in 2009. youth was suddenly running out like grains of a darkened hourglass, as everything and everyone brought tension into their lives. where was the next step on their path? high school is nothing more than a cruel halfway point between childhood and adulthood, but this group of friends made the most out of it. after all, this is the youngest that they'll ever be. this age is the time where hopes rise higher than ever, where love burns the most passionately, and the desire for freedom expands the furthest. in 2009, we follow these teenagers' stories to the background music of the opening chapters of kpop's greatest legacies.but, ten years later at their high school reunion, where do we find them.”

or: highschool!got7, dancecrew!got7, coming of age, school reunion angst, reader x ?

APRIL 2006 (3)

Slick, strawberry ice cream never tasted so fulfilling until that day’s relentless sun. Though it was only spring time, it must have been at least twenty degrees outside and when the air conditioning system broke in our classroom, I was left an absolute mess. The workload of being a first year high school student was made into an unfortunate underestimation and the weather only caused more stress to my body.

“Yours looks good, I should’ve just gotten the same thing as you,” Youngjae frowned, as he looked at his own vanilla scoops. He leaned in to take a taste of my cone, but I merely interrupted with a noise of disapproval.

“Nuh uh. Nice try, Choi Youngjae, this happens every single time.” I turned my back so that he couldn’t take any and hummed.

All it took to convince him to skip his after school vocal lessons was a distressed IM, claiming that I had an emergency. Sure, it was probably wrong to use my loyal best friend just to have a companion to get ice cream, but he’d done the same thing on several occasions. I’d missed so much time at Hagwon because of him. Great minds think alike and Youngjae wasn’t even mad when I met up with him outside of his school with a carefree attitude, clearly not having any emergencies to worry about.

“I should’ve known,” he said upon seeing my figure approach him at the front of my school.

“Oh, shut up.” I frowned and punched his shoulder in what was supposed to be a playful way, but he nevertheless yelped at the contact. “I never get to see you anyway with you stupid training anyway. Live a little and spend the afternoon with your best friend!” At that, Youngjae grinned and he couldn’t say no. Next thing we knew and we ended up at our favourite ice cream shop.

We continued walking along the sidewalk a busy street in the Guro district of the city. It was only five o’clock and people were rushing to get home to their families; cars flying by, people trying to beat the rush onto the subway lines, bicycle lanes filled up. It was busy as ever, as Seoul as ever. There weren’t that many people our age around, as most first year high school students like ourselves should be at after school lessons.

“Do you ever wonder what will be like when we’re like them?” Youngjae was eying some older college kids inside a random cafe that we were walking by, as I tried to keep my long hair out of the ice cream.

Two of them appeared to be a couple, while several other kids surrounded them at the same table. They were laughing, listening to music, and flipping through American magazines and I could feel jealousy running through my veins. Their parents weren’t frantically calling them when they were late by a minute or two returning from tutoring or yelling at them to grow up. They were grown.

I replied, “I wonder what we’ll be like when we’re like them.” Pointing at a pair of people trying to hail a taxi, a man and woman dressed in business casual attire, it seemed like they were making their way back to home. I wanted nothing more than to grow up and relish in unknown liberation.

Youngjae followed my gaze and thought about it for a moment. “You’ll be whatever it is what you want to be—” I rolled my eyes at that. It wasn’t a secret that I wasn’t exactly sure of what I wanted in a career, lacking passion for any field or hobby. My parents wanted Jinyoung and I to pursue lavish medical careers, but he was the only one with the endurance and intellectual capabilities to do so.

“—And you will be a successful singer.”

A light tint of pink spread across Youngjae’s cheeks, ever so bashful regarding his ambitions. However, there was no doubt that he was eventually going to be a star one day. I’d never seen such comparable talent to him.

I continued on, “Maybe we don’t have to wait so long! Didn’t you say that your company is looking to debut a new group next year?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he dismissed my statement, “it’s not a guarantee, though. And what if they don’t even pick me to be apart of the group?”

“You’ve been under their management since the seventh grade! They’d be crazy to cut you.” I was still able to recall the day of Youngjae’s first audition to the company, where I’d accompanied him on the weekend instead of studying at home with Jinyoung. Nerves were never one to affect Youngjae, but on that day, he couldn’t stop shaking no matter what he did. It was only when he was finally called that he was able to take a deep breathe. He got the acceptance call the following few weeks after. I’d march right down to the company office myself, they wouldn’t dare take away my gifted best friend for four years just to cut him out of their boy group.

Youngjae shrugged, then looked back to where we were observing the two adults. They were gone. “By our thirties, we’ll be happy for sure and that’s all I care about. Maybe you’ll finally grow out of Super Junior—hey, don’t give me that look!”

I quickly rid of the bitter expression on my face and laughed. Tugging his arm, I told Youngjae that we should go to an arcade instead of watch strangers like some creeps. I thought, maybe this part of being a teenager isn’t so bad. For now, I was willing to embrace this and so was he.

PRESENT DAY (4)

“Remember that time that Bambam knocked over an entire shelf?”

Letting his name slip past my lips felt so foreign, it seemed like forever since talking about my old friend. It wasn’t like recalling a one time anecdote, but a piece of life. Jinyoung emulated the odd sensation, not hiding the way he paused his walking for a split second at the sound of Bambam’s name. Then, after getting over the initial feeling, he burst out into laughter.

Shoulders shaking with each chuckle, Jinyoung replied, “My god, that was fucking hilarious. It was after we found out that we qualified for the NDCCs, right?”

“And Mr. Lee gave him a weeks’ detention for it!” I nodded vigorously. There was no way that my mind could forget that day, especially not the priceless looks of excitement on the boys' faces. The memory was fresh in my mind, as if it had occurred the afternoon prior.

The two of us were the lone people in that empty hallway after choosing to explore the second floor. Jinyoung claimed that he wanted to find his first year homeroom for old times sake. He’d walked straight past the library, probably because of all the last minute studying that he used to do in there that continued to haunt him, but I took a quick glance inside. The interiors were darkened, but I could make out the familiar layout of the room for the most part. I hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time in there unless I had to during my years, so Bambam was the first thought to come to mind.

“Hey, our old lockers are somewhere here!” My brother exclaimed, having made his way into another corridor.

I didn’t need to follow his voice, remembering exactly where the lockers were. It wasn’t quite Jinyoung’s locker, but he often used Jaebum’s instead of his own, as it was situated on the undesirable basement floor. Mine was just two away from their shared space and by the end of high school, the three of us claimed the entire block as our own.

Passing by the iconic music room, I found Jinyoung kneeling in front of a block of lockers. I had to stop myself from entering, as I figured that it would be best to do it later when he was here. Watching Jinyoung peered into each one, probably trying to jog his memory, it was odd to realize just how old we’d become. Spending countless of days in this hallway for three years, yet my brother couldn’t even remember which locker was Jaebum’s.

“Oh! This one’s mine!” I giggled, spotting the locker immediately, even from the distance I was at. Stepping forward, I pointed to the one that was three away from mine. “This is the one you’re looking for.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “How did you figure that out?”

Smirking, I gestured to the corner, where faint lettering was carved into the metal. There was no way I was going to leave Haerin without a trace, so as I ran my thumb over the imprint ‘SJ,’ I was more than pleased to see that it lasted for ten years. I nearly forgot that I did this, but it was probably one of the best decisions I made before graduating.

“What—holy shit.” Jinyoung looked at the ‘SJ’ carving and was silent for a moment, blank stare. Then, he burst out into hysterical laughter, to which I made a face at. “And you were even playing, what was it? Club No.1! You played it on the way here. Some things never change, huh?”

He was right. Some things never do change and I was content with that, knowing I still had a bit of that high schooler in me. It didn’t matter if it was Super Junior or that childlike innocence, or even my first loves that blossomed in these hallowed halls. The years pass, just as my branches grow rapidly, but returning to my roots reminded me of how much I longed for those days once again.

MARCH 2009 (5)

Lee Donghae's angelic voice continued to ring in my ears the whole train and bus ride home from the fan meeting. It was like a broken song stuck on replay on my MP3 and there was not a single thing I could do about it—not that I wanted to. I'd felt as though I was on cloud nine the entire time I was there, despite the fact that their thirteen members were just little dots from the seat I was in. Minyoung swore up and down that Siwon stared right at her for the majority of the event and we argued about it for the entire commute home, just before she got off at the bus stop ten minutes before I did.

Skipping school was practically unheard of, but it was a risk I was willing to take for Super Junior.

"I'll see you tomorrow at school!" she waved at me happily, as she strolled out of the bus with ease. I could never imagine having such nonchalance in my step after missing a full day of class to see an idol group, not with my hardass parents. However, Minyoung mentioned that her mother didn't care, too busy drinking her life away.

Unfortunately for myself, things were different. I paid Jinyoung almost my entire part time salary for him to do his imitation of our father's voice and call in sick for me with the school. Nobody seemed to suspect a thing when the two of us "left" for classes in the morning, as I wore my uniform and carried my backpack. In reality, I had to make a beeline for Minyoung's house, where I would change into some more fashionable clothing and eventually, the two of us left for the noon fan meeting. We made time for us to be able to hope on the bus back home. Needless to say, everything went smoothly, at least up to this point. Sneaking out was fine, but sneaking back in? A different story and certainly the nadir of the day.

It felt obligatory to repeat examples of excuses out loud over and over again as I made my way home.  "Sorry I'm late! I had a few questions to ask about my physics test. . .no, no, that sounds too forced . ."

Any car that passed by me on the street that even had the slightest of semblance to my mother's or any patrol vehicle that belonged to the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency granted a near heart attack. However, nothing came of these scares, so I continued walking along the sidewalk towards my house. There were some crazy things that teenagers did for their idols.

The only way to about successfully sneaking back in was the secret path. It led to behind the house from a convenience store that Jinyoung and I used to play in when we were kids. Looking back, we were absolutely insane. It was the scariest alleyway that I could conjure in my imagination, for it barely fit two bodies and allowed very little light to seep through. If it wasn't in broad daylight, I wouldn't be crossing this way at all. At the very least, it wasn't long after squeezing through that I could barely make out the house in the distance.

However, as soon as I stepped out of the alleyway, a large figure came out from the sides.

"Shit!"

Enduring the wind was knocked straight out of my chest, the other figure didn’t even seemed fazed at the sudden collision of bodies. I stumbled back a few steps, sputtering as I did so. There was a light chuckle and when I looked up, I saw Jaebum’s cheeky smile.

“And where do you think you’re coming from?” he raised an eyebrow at me and my heart stopped. I obviously did not think this far; Jinyoung’s friends were usually hanging around the house. I didn’t think that any of them would cause trouble, but then there was Jaebum, who would gladly give a side comment to my parents about my truancy just to see the look on my face.

I tried to play it off, pulling the best casual shrug that I was capable of. “School. I had to stay after school to ask Mr. Go some questions.”

“Last time I checked, you weren’t in class, especially without uniform on." Jaebum raised his eyebrows and reached out, touching my hair. "And you actually brushed your hair? You definitely went somewhere else."

There was no way. There was no way in hell that today was going to be one of the only days in the year when Im Jaebum, notorious class skipper, decided not to keep up with his hooky playing ways. However, looking at his semi pristine school uniform—I wasn’t going to count the buttons that he so cheekily left open on his dress shirt—I groaned. He had gone to class, which I didn’t count on.

Jaebum continued, "How come you haven't cut your hair? I think you'd look good with short hair." Giving unsolicited styling advice was his way of calling me boring.

“You. . .I can’t believe you actually showed up.” Last year, rumours flew around that Jaebum missed almost two weeks worth of classes in a row. In hindsight, saying two weeks doesn’t sound like lot to non Korean students, but there was no such shirking culture in any school in the country and especially not one as competitive as Haerin. Even the lazy students at least showed up and took a nap in the back of the classroom as opposed to outright not attending.

The said male grinned. “New year, new me.” Jaebum glanced at me, probably trying to figure out what exactly it was that I was up to. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Okay, fine. I skipped.” There was no reason for me to not admit it, Jaebum was going to force it out of me either way.

“Why?

“SuperJuniorfanmeeting,” I mumbled, my string of words sounding more like a singular, incoherent mess.

Jaebum just chuckled at me, getting a real kick out of the situation. It wasn’t like I was the goody-two-shoes type, but I’d always used to berate him for shirking his school work. I didn’t actually care, but it was more on the basis that I figured that he and Jinyoung didn’t have to hang out and be so damn loud in the living room if they would just see each other at school.

“Say that one more time, please.”

Setting my jaw, the glare I sent his way could’ve killed. “Super Junior fan meeting.”

At that, he only let out a loud scoff. “You skipped for Super Junior? Are you for real?” His chiding was nothing new to me.

There was one time when Jaebum tried sneaking into our house late at night to hang out with Jinyoung, as if they were a fucking couple. Who the hell does that that? Unfortunately, my brother’s room did not have a window and the two politely asked me if Jaebum could go through my window, then sneak through. I said no. That was supposed to be that, but the twat ended up knocking at my bedroom window at two in the morning anyway.

If it weren’t for the fact that I was up late on Facebook, I would have probably strangled Jaebum. I had no choice but to let him in, though, and the first thing that he did was make fun of the amount of Super Junior merchandise that I had in my room. Posters, stacks of albums, stickers, mugs, you name it. That was how I discovered Jaebum’s hatred for idol groups and how he discovered his favourite thing to use in order to vex.

“I don’t want to hear it, asshat.” Grumbling, I tried to move past him, but he stayed put.

Jaebum said, “Nope. I’m not going anywhere.”

It was almost time for my mother to return home for work and I couldn’t believe that he was choosing to play around now out of all the time he had in the world. He folded his arms across his chest, as if waiting for me to do something. The light shone on his medium brown hair and illuminated his playful expression.

“I need to get home!”

“And I need to get to the studio, but your dumbass brother decided to take his time flirting with Ms. Jung after school, so now I have to wait for him.”

I rolled my eyes, how very Jinyoung of him to do. Despite being senior class treasurer and all around boy next door, I knew my brother well and he wouldn’t be related to me if he didn’t have his sly side. He used his role on student council and high rank in academics to stay behind to talk with teachers, often to schmooze or just to flirt like he did with Ms. Jung.

“Gross. Just go to the studio by yourself, then,” I replied.

Jaebum chuckled. “No, because I’m a good friend who waits for his friends, especially when the said friend is getting details on beautiful Ahyeon." 

I had to snort at that. "You boys are disgusting. Just get going so I can." Hearing him talk about the Geometry teacher like that made me want to throw up without hesitation. High school boys, especially overly horny ones like Jaebum, always did in the hallways after any one of Ms. Jung's classes. She was young, pretty, and everyone raved about how she looked like some actress from Boys Over Flowers.

He was still in front of me. There seemed to be something we wanted to say, judging by the confusion playing in his eyes, but nothing came out. Tapping my foot, I raised my wrist to my line of sight and saw that I didn't have much time left.

"You should audition for the crew," Jaebum suddenly blurted out, though his tone stayed as nonchalant as ever.

That took me by surprise and for that, I looked at him like he was crazy. "Me? Yeah, right. Now stop wasting my time and—"

"—Jinyoung said you dance, you can't dance for us?" he cut me off. I was sure that he was joking, but judging by the sternness and what seemed like shame for asking me, I realized that Jaebum was indeed serious about his suggestion.

Obviously somebody had brought myself up as a suggestion for the crew member replacement. I wouldn’t know why Jinyoung would even do that, he was fully aware that I would repudiate such an idea. I couldn’t even imagine myself having to hang out with the boys or stand on a stage.

"Yeah, in middle school. Not anymore, I don't like dancing."  

If there was one thing that could wound Jaebum, it was speaking ill of dance. He cringed at my words, face scrunching up. I didn't have any passions in the way that he and my brother had dance, so I couldn't understand. The sentence allowed made him want to get out of my way, side stepping.

He said, "Well, if you change your mind, we're in the studio on Friday. Jinyoung and Mark have said good things about you, so I thought that it wouldn't hurt to ask, but I guess I was wrong."

I shrugged and was on my way, thankful that he managed to give up on me. Picking up a speed walk, I dashed towards the back door of my house and made sure that the interiors were empty before doing so. As I closed the door, I couldn't help but look over at Jaebum and I saw that he was still in that spot. It was embarrassing that not only Jinyoung told the crew about me, but Mark as well. Thinking about it made my face go hot and with that, I shut it and hurried to change before after school tutoring. 

[lost-master]

What Could Have Been

A Xehanort-centric “what if”. Part 1 of ?

His time was coming to an end, that much was painfully clear. Sure, he showed no clear signs of impending death; no illness had taken him, no fog clouded his mind, and yet… there was an urgency he could not shake. A feeling not unlike that which had arose in him as a young man, standing on the shores of his island-home, drenched in the warmth and warning of a crimson sunrise. A deep foreboding; the calm before a storm. Although his pride balked, wisdom had bade him take shelter. And so he found himself here.

Returning to the Land of Departure - it was rather ironic. Yet, no place seemed more fitting for him now.

Departure was indeed looming.

As a young man, he had never imagined he would come to dwell here again.

Most apprentices vie for their master’s mantle, longing to named Successor, to inherit the castle and train up apprentices of their own; yet there can be only one. The naming of a Successor all to often becomes a point of contention among apprentices and their master. Indeed, Xehanort had seen many bonds severed by it over his long years.

However, Xehanort had never desired his Master’s mantle. Lording over this castle, being so bound to it, had been a miserable prospect then, and was even more so now. Where many who are not chosen feel slighted, Xehanort would have felt slighted had he been chosen.

He had always been possessed of a wandering heart, and Eraqus was in every way more suited for such a quiet life. Their Master had known this, of course, and had chosen accordingly.

If Xehanort was as a vine, seeking to cover as much ground as he possibly could; Eraqus and the Master were as trees, longing to be deeply rooted in one place, to have place to call their own. He could not have been more different in temperament or philosophy than the two of them. And yet...

Eraqus and the Master were the closest thing Xehanort had to a family. And Xehanort felt a sense of obligation toward them. So at one time, when their Master was still alive, he had made it a point to return to the castle once a year. But after the Master’s passing, Xehanort’s visits became less frequent. Still, Eraqus welcomed him back with open arms whenever he returned, no matter how long he had been away. Eraqus had even kept aside several rooms for him, as a place to store what few belongings he had. Even after over a half-century of traveling the Worlds, this old castle remained the closest thing Xehanort had to a home.

When Eraqus finally chose apprentices of his own, their makeshift family grew by two. Unlike nearly every master before himself, Xehanort never took on an apprentice of his own, choosing instead to foster a lifetime of research into the lost history of the great Keyblade War and world that existed before the Worlds. In spite of his intellectual pursuits, Xehanort came around often enough to watch the young wielders grow in form and stature. He grew quite fond of them, to his surprise, and his visits became more frequent as he would go out of his way to bring them gifts from the worlds he studied.

It was not that he had found the idea of having an apprentice of his own distasteful, after all. It simply was not compatible with his chosen path. In fact, only a few years prior, when his travels led him to the small world called Twilight Town, he had nearly set his aside his wandering to take on a young boy with remarkable potential. Yet, he had immediately known that he would look back with regret if he stopped his life’s work; if he changed course so close to the end. So, instead, he brought the young boy to Eraqus to be trained.

Sure, his friend was upset at first, angry even, that Xehanort had hoisted upon him a new apprentice. It was unheard of to take on a student not of one’s own choosing and unorthodox to take on a new student so late in one’s life. But Ventus was exceptional in both skill and charm, and he quickly found a place in their family. Terra and Aqua adopted him as their own quite immediately; Eraqus followed close behind.

Even now, Xehanort looked out to the edge of the training grounds to see the three apprentices together. They sat on the cliff’s edge, Ventus in the middle with Terra and Aqua to either side. Though their backs were turned, they appeared to be deep in discussion, and somber of mood - when suddenly, Terra ruffled Ventus’ hair, before receiving a playful elbow to the stomach for his trouble. The three of them laughed and laid back, gazing at the sunset, just as he and Eraqus had on countless evenings during their own apprenticeship. The young trio had spent the day engaged in training exercises, as they did on most days. And yet, this day was far from ordinary, for it would most certainly be the last one they spent as a trio of apprentices. The two eldest were to be tested for the Mark tomorrow.

Xehanort felt a pang of sympathy. Although it marked a frightening new stage in their lives, he and Eraqus had looked to their Mark of Mastery examination with unbridled anticipation, because it was a step they were taking together. A new adventure for the both of them, and one they would venture on side by side. Yet of the three apprentices before him, only two would emerge Masters (and he was sure they would, indeed, emerge Masters). Young Ventus would have to watch his two friends leave, and remain behind to finish his own training alone.

He knew the young boy was insecure about being forgotten by his friends, Aqua had told him as much during one of their training sessions. To Xehanort’s delight, not only did the girl share his interest in the arcane arts, she possessed remarkable skill as well. While Eraqus was knowledgeable enough to give her a solid foundation of basic spells from which to build, he was no mage. At Eraqus’ behest, Xehanort had gladly agreed to teach the girl more advanced magics during his visits and over the years the two of them had developed a sort of friendship.

So when she came to him with her concerns for Ventus, and divulged her own pain at the prospect of leaving him alone, Xehanort had told her of the Wayfinder charms shared between friends on his home islands, and he taught her a simple incantation, a spell of binding, to place on them.

Had they more time before the exam, he would have went off and gathered shells for her, but she seemed content with his sketched example, and had promptly ran off to make her own. Even from so far a distance, he could see the three of them holding up the vibrant, star shaped charms against the dying light.

Of course, the magic itself was not strong enough to do much of anything, but he hoped the sentiment would hearten them during this difficult transition.

Across from him, Eraqus himself gazed at the trio wistfully, so lost in thought that he did not notice weight of Xehanort’s gaze upon him.

Although Xehanort did indeed sympathize with Ventus’ awkward position as an apprentice far younger than his fellows, he thought it good that the energetic boy would be around to keep Eraqus from falling into stagnation after his two eldest apprentices departed. And now, seeing the clear mourning in his dear friend’s eyes, he was all the more sure of his own decision to spend his final years here at the castle.

“I believe it is your move, Eraqus”, he said gently, not wanting to startle the younger master.

Eraqus blinked hard and shook his head gently, as if trying break free from his own thoughts, and shifted his gaze back to the board between them.

“Ah, yes. I apologize, I fear my mind has been wandering of late.”

“There is no need to apologize, my friend. You have a great deal to think on these days.”

“Indeed.” Eraqus replied with a sigh.

“Would you care to talk about it?”

Eraqus shook his head and began to speak, but as he caught Xehanort’s piercing gaze, the denial died on his lips. He paused for a moment, before sighing once more before conceding,

“Yes, perhaps I should... though I think it had best be over a glass of wine.”

Xehanort replied with a low chuckle, “A wonderful idea. I will acquire the glasses, but I leave it to you to select the vintage.”

With a simple nod, Eraqus excused himself, walking off to one of the lower floors where all manner of strong drink was kept hidden away from mischievous apprentices. Though not hidden well enough, if memory served. As teenagers, he and Eraqus had spent many nights atop the mountains of the training grounds, getting drunk off stolen spirits.

With a wistful smile, Xehanort returned to the balcony, two wine glasses in hand. He set one by Eraqus’ seat, and one by his own before walking over to the railing. The sun had set fully now, and only the stars could be seen clearly from this vantage. The meteor shower would begin any minute.

Yes, Xehanort thought, departure was indeed on the horizon. For himself, for the three apprentices, and for his dear friend.

when Eraqus returned with the wine, Xehanort took it upon himself to fill the glasses. And as he did, he spoke a simple incantation, a spell of binding. Of course, the magic itself was not strong enough to do much of anything, but he hoped the sentiment would hearten them during this difficult transition.

[lionel-verney-last-man-ayeee]

To my gentle Perdita and her heroic Raymond,

I feel as if the only way to address you two is as one unit for your love transcends your physical beings and has intricately intertwined your souls. Perdita you gave Raymond the most treasured gift of all; a darling little girl. Raymond you gave up the political career and position you were destined for your entire life in order to raise your child and be there for my wonderful Perdita.

Raymond you always did tell me that you were sure on your mission to raise your family. I wanted you to be Lord Protector, to herald in the next Golden Age for England. But you refused and decided we should put forward and train a new candidate on your own (preferably Adrian- to his objections). You sat me down and said “My dear Lionel, we are married men, and find employment sufficient in amusing our wives, and dancing our children,” (79). A true family man, a man who loved his wife more than he loved himself. But when the time called for it, you stepped up to be the leader we all knew you could be.

But time as Lord Protector put strains on your relationship with Perdita and you began to see another woman. I forgive you for this, as she had in your last moments. When we needed you most, you were there. On the front lines, defending our nation from invaders from the East and the contagions they brought along with them. You held the last flag, pointed with it to the gates of the city. You broke down the gate and as the sun-lit way opened you entered the city alone; enraged with the cowardice of your followers who feared the city too much to enter it. The city was consumed by fire but I could still see you riding through it, enveloped in smoke and flame.

As the flames died down I hurried as fast as I could into the city. I could only do so on foot and it took hours to search the ruins for you. I called out for you, through the darkness of night, but no voice replied. The next morning when I awoke I knew; the latest honour of the world, our hero, Raymond, was dead. I do not wish to speak on the ways in which this news encompassed the countenance of Perdita with the darkest of hazes. I do not wish to speak on the way in which she decided to take her life for the thought of living without the other half of her soul was too much to bear. Instead, my Perdita, I will speak to you about us as children.

In comparison to me, you were more of a singular being. Yet we both had inherited the “peculiar disposition of our father” (13). Your eyes were not dark, but deep. Your eyes “seemed to discover space after space in their intellectual glance, and to feel that the soul which was their soul, comprehended an universe of thought in its ken” (13) Always pale and fair, your hair held living marble underneath. Your power was always in your expression dearest sister. Your appearance was merely a costume which was secondary to the mind that ‘beamed within [your] countenance” (13).

Your manners, to put it nicely, were cold and repulsive. You were not nurtured by those who regarded you with affection, rather you were neglected and unloved. Unlike me, you spent most of your time in solitude, and enjoyed it! You would travel to the most unfrequented places just to find a place where you could sit by your lonesome.

Poverty veiled your excellence. I was your only friend, and you were mine. We clung to each other and weren’t viewed very kindly because of it. But all of this changed when you met the other half of your soul, Raymond. You were crushed when you learned that Raymond would be proposing to Idris. I remember your face when they left your cottage that fated night. You didn’t move, your eyes remained transfixed on the ground. You were so pale, your lips almost white, a very woeful state to be in. And when I tried to help you, you silenced me. For I could not help because you believed I knew nothing about what you were going through or how you felt. Oh if you only knew that I was feeling the same way about my longing over Idris.

Perdita, my first and best friend, you lived the life you always dreamed of having. You were loved and cared for and you learned how to love and care in return. You found that part of you that was always missing after father abandoned us. And in your union you graced the world with the healing person of your daughter Clara. After losing Idris I began to understand why you did what you did that night on the ship. And if any doubts remain in your head, just know that I believe it was the right thing to do. There was no way you could live without Raymond and why live such a life when you can join him in another world. Just as I have forgiven Raymond, I forgive you.

Can the both of you wait for me? I hope you’ve gotten the chance to see the young Clara all grown up. She truly is the most wonderful light ever brought into this world and without her I don’t know where my life would have gone or how I would have coped with everything that happened.

Love your confidant and best friend, Lionel Verney

[howdidigethereffs]

My Captain (Volleyball!AU)

Pairing: NamjoonXSeokjin

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 3k+

A/N: Inspired from a fanart of Namjoon as a volleyball player, I decided to write this fanfic. It’s a first so please don’t fucking hate me if it sucks. Feel free to provide constructive criticism though.

How did I end up here? Oh right, I fucking screamed at Mr. Jung.

I was dozing off in Literature class, which was just the third period but I was already tired as fuck, when my teacher, Jung fucking Hoseok, had to catch me at my worst.

“Jin-ssi, would you care to tell the class the answer for question 3?”

“No cunt, I just want to fucking sleep.”

As soon as I said those words, I regretted them immediately. The entire class widened their eyes and started staring at me, appalled that someone had the guts to say something like that to a teacher. I mean, come on, you can’t blame for being a diva when I’m sleepy, can you?

Well, Hoseok didn’t think the same and immediately assigned me to a punishment. But no, it wasn’t detention, it was much worse.

The fucker, who was usually a lenient guy but probably hated me, had assigned me to sweep the floors of the gym after the volleyball team finished practising! EW! I mean I wouldn’t have minded it if any of the team members were hot, but none of them were even slightly attractive. They sweat so much after practising and stink like shit. To think that I would have to sweep the floors where their sweat dripped onto and their feet kept stamping, I couldn’t fucking bear it. But nonetheless, I had to.

And so, after dropping my coffee on Mr. Min’s fucking cock (who I think has a thing going on with Mr. Jung) during music class, stepping on my shoelaces and tripping infront of everyone in the corridor, being told off multiple times for not doing my homework and being rejected by my crush, Jackson Wang, I was finally here, at the gym where the team had practice everyday after school. So much for after school clubs (sorry I had to).

I might as well have had to come here after an hour or so, so I just thought I should come here and watch them. I have nothing else to do anyways so I can just entertain myself watching boys smash the ball. Although I wouldn’t allow any of ‘em to smash my balls.

I came here 15 minutes ago after bidding my friends farewell. “Bidding my friends farewell” makes it sound like I’m gonna die but hey I probably will after sweeping the mucky floors of the place.

A girl entered through the doors startling me with her presence. Um, girls? I didn’t sign up for girls, I’m too gay for that. Did I get the place wrong?

“Excuse me, this is the gym for the boys volleyball team practice right?”

“You’re at the right venue. And who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Kim Seokjin of Class 11 B. And you must be?”

“Garima. Class 10 C. I’m the coach’s assistant of sorts. I help out the team. Seokjin, what are you here for?”

“I’m here to help with cleaning up the place after practice, as a punishment.”

“I wouldn’t call it that, a punishment. It’s actually quite impressive watching the boys play, especially since they’re now under the leadership of the new captain.”

“New captain?” I did a silent prayer to god that at least this guy who I haven’t seen before is decent looking.

“You’ll see.”

As if that was their call a gang of 11 boys in red and white jerseys with the school’s name at the front and a designated number at the back entered the room. One of them called for a run and all the boys started jogging around the room.

“If I’m not wrong there are 12 members in a volleyball team?” I asked Garima.

“I’m impressed you’re aware of that much.” She laughed, making me slightly offended. “Sorry I just didn’t think you would know even that much about volleyball by the looks of it. Yes, there are 12. The captain and the coach usually come in after.”

“Cocky much?”

“Not really. The coach makes the captain do extra rounds at the field.”

“The field?” I stared at her in disbelief. “The field is huge! I get tired just walking one round of it.”

“Exactly.” is all she replied.

This bitch must have been some sort of wizard because as soon as those words escaped her mouth, the door opened once again, two people at the entrance.

And there I saw, the most beautiful and ethereal man I have ever seen during the course of my entire existence.

His eyes were this shade of brown that reminded me of the perfect cup of coffee, warm and comforting, but they had a sense of maturity unexplainable. His lips had such a fullness and I could only imagine how soft they must have been. His cheeks were so kissable, I wanted to cup them and never let go. There were few beads of sweat across his forehead but somehow made him look even more angelic. His eyebrows were arched at such a position that exuded a wise aura from him. Tall and built, with a slightly dark skin tone that suited him just perfectly. His arms were toned and when I looked at his hands, I was filled with curiosity with how it would feel if I held them. His chest in perfect proportion with the rest of his body, his shoulders of just the right broadness I loved. His legs were long and looked extremely strong.

Wow. A greek god was in my presence. Bless Hoseok. Fuck Jackson.

As soon as he entered with the number 12 on his jersey and saw the rest of his team training, he smiled to himself, probably at the thought of his team doing well. His smile, how do I say this, melted my heart. Even though it was a small smile you could see a bit of his dimples. The thought of them gaining prominence when he smiles heartily lightened up my insides.

“There he is. The captain, Kim Namjoon of Class 12 A.”

“He’s in A? Isn’t that the class where they shove all the smart kids?”

“The boy’s at the top of his grade and is in the top 1.3% nationally with his grades. Got a TOEIC score of 850 and rumour has it he has an IQ of 150. Somehow, he’s intellectual and good at volleyball. He got accepted in the National Team, but for some reason he declined the offer.”

"How’s this boy good at academics and sport? What a dream. Why would he decline an offer in the National Team?”

“I don’t know. In fact, none of us do except of Coach Ukai.”

Why would this boy decline such an offer? Maybe he isn’t’ that good. But then why would’ve he even received it even in the first place?

Wait. Hold up. I recalled everything I thought and felt about this man. DID I JUST THINK ALL OF THAT? I’m Kim Seokjin. No one, I mean no one, reaches my expectations. To think that one day I would swoon over someone except of myself was unimaginable of. I’m probably just tired and really sexually frustrated. But still, I couldn’t help but feel a tug of attraction towards him. Would he ever be with me-

“Don’t even think about it.” Garima spoke up.

“Think about what?”

“Being with him. He’s probably not gay with all the prettiest of girls flocking around him. Trust me, there are are countless others like you who want him to be theirs but no one has been able to achieve that feat. There is truth in the fact that you are a very attractive male but I don’t think that could break Namjoon.”

I felt happy knowing that the hot volleyball player was single (and that someone had just called me attractive but I was a bit too used to that) but I couldn’t help feel a pang of jealousy and sadness. What if he wasn’t gay? He probably wasn’t. There’s barely any boys in our school who are. And girls probably fall all over him.

Yet I still replied to her with a “You don’t know that” just to give myself some sort of comfort.

“Forget about him. The sooner you move on from him, the better it will be better for you. Which you probably will after you exit the room.” Even I knew I was lying to myself.

The only thing that calmed me down was the thought that he probably had a really shit personality. With all the attention, he was probably disrespectful to everyone around as if he ran the place and was a stuck up douche.

The team finally started practice and Namjoon came towards the two of us.

“Garima, coach needs you to take some notes, prep for next match. I see you brought a friend with you. Who might you be?”

I was so entranced by his honey-like voice and pleasing aura that I didn’t even realize he was talking to me until Garima gave me a little nudge and excused herself to go to the coach.

I came back to reality and realized he had just asked me a question.

“Sorry? You said something?”

“What’s your name?”

“Kim Seokjin. 11 B.”

“What a lovely name! I must say I’ve heard a few things about you before. Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Kim Namjoon from class 12 A.”

“Heard about me? You know me?!”

“Who hasn’t heard about the nightingale with the most celestial voice?”

“Nightingale? Celestial?” I repeated his words, those words which made a reddish shade rise to my cheeks.

Fuck. This guy had a great personality as well? He spoke like a grandfather and I loved it. Why must god be so unfair to me?

“Of course. I would love to hear you at the Cultural Fair next week. Are you participating by any chance?”

“Not really, I missed the deadline for signing up.” I replied while twiddling my fingers but still maintaining a somewhat confident face. There actually exists a man who can make me nervous?

“Oh don’t worry about that. I’m actually in-charge of running the fair. I could get you in.” He gave me a little wink and a hearty smile. THERE! I SAW HIS DIMPLES! WHAT AN ADORABLE PUPPY! OMFHGKSPAKWWPA

“You would do that for me? That’s so sweet of you! I would love to.”

Just when I was almost going to completely fall for this man, the coach’s voice rang out through the room, “Namjoon! Get over here right now!”

“I’m afraid I have to leave. I would love to continue this lovely conversation some other time.” He said with that sweet smile again.

He ran off to the rest of the team. P. S. How come a man is able to run with such elegance? I will never know.

After warm up (holy fuck he looked so daddy), Coach Ukai called out for the start of a match and I took my place in the stands which were very surprisingly clean.

“Namjoon, you’re with Jungkook, V, Jimin, Kageyama and Hinata on the right. Oikawa, you lead Iwaizumi and the rest on the left.”

An orange haired boy with a built but smol body who I later noticed had the tiniest hands in the world exclaimed, “We have the KageHina duo!”

The captain of the other team, Oikawa, retorted with the most lovestruck eyes, “I don’t care, I’m with Iwa-chan.” and proceeded to rub his face against the arms of whom I’m supposing was Iwa-chan.

“Fuck off Oikawa”

With that the match started. And can I tell you how hot Namjoon looked? He played Wing Spiker (it took me a long time to understand what that means too, don’t worry) and smashed the ball with such force. Now this was the only man I would allow to smash my balls.

I spent the rest of my time just staring at Namjoon, until I was disturbed in a not so nice way. Hinata, who I was told had just recently joined the team, wasn’t really one with the ball and smashed the ball.

I took a double take. Is this coming towards me?

Before I could clear my own confusion, the ball landed right on my fucking left cheek. My beautiful face had now been bruised. Considering my luck, I wasn’t really surprised.

One of the boys walked up to me and asked me if I was okay but before I could look up to see who it was, I screamt, “DO I LOOK LIKE I’M FUCKING OKAY? MY PERFECT FACE HAS BEEN TAINTED!”

It was Namjoon. Fuck my life.

“I am so sorry. I sincerely apologize on Hinata’s behalf. You see, he’s new to the team so it’s a bit overwhelming for him.”

Why has everything shitty been happening to me all day? Except meeting Namjoon. Should I give him a cute nickname? Namjoonie? Joonie? Joon Joon? SNAP OUT OF IT JIN!

“It’s okay. As long as the cunt apologises for ruining my good luck charm.” I replied with the most innocent smile.

“Your good luck charm?”

“My face.”

This made Namjoon laugh his ass off. Okay, now there was the second only good thing that has happened to me today, looking at Namjoon’s hearty laugh.

“Well I suppose I could be your good luck charm from now on.”

Did Kim Fucking Namjoon fucking flirt with fucking me? I was not prepared and honestly felt attacked. I just sat their with my mouth open and gaping at him. He smirked, grabbed the ball and went back to the game.

Did he just, did I just, in the name of Jesus riding a tricycle, what the fuck? I tried to let the current occurrence settle in. That can’t be it. He can’t be gay. I’m probably just imagining shit.

The game went on and Namjoon kept being amazing. So amazing that when he hit a service ace, I lost my shit and screamt, “GO NAMJOON!” A shy smile made it to Namjoon’s face.

“Looks like someone called their boyfriend to practice.” Jungkook taunted Namjoon making him even more embarrassed.

After multiple smashes, passes, receives, screams, points and dumps (not the ones that you think) the game finally came to an end. Unsurprisingly, Namjoon’s team won.

The coach called it a day and the teammates started getting out the brooms and cloths to clean up.

I completely forgot about my punishment but now that practice had ended, I had to get to work. I hated that practice had finished even more because this was probably the last time I was going to see Namjoon play volleyball looking like perfect boyfriend material.

I even created a scene in my head. After a heated game, Namjoon would come over to me and I would hand him a bottle of water. He would take off his jersey and make me wear it with the excuse “I just wanted to see what you would look like in it. You’re rocking it handsome.” And then I would say, “Stop it Joonie.” and cover my face in a cute way. Then he would take my hands off my face and the lean in for a ki-

“Hey. I just wanted to check up on you. You sure you’re okay?”

“Never felt better.” I awkwardly smiled. What are the odds that the guy you’re dreaming the perfect scenario about comes and interrupts it?

“Good to know. Lemme guess, one of the teachers asked you to sweep the gym as a retribution for catching some z’s in class?”

“How did you know?”

“Well you couldn’t have been a student volunteer because I wasn’t informed of any and you looked quite tired when you came in so I just joined the dots.”

“Well you’re right. Fucking Jung Hoseok.”

“I actually appreciated him for his deep understanding of Korean Literature but since he punished you I’m not so fond of him anymore.” He chuckled slightly. What an actual ball of fluff.

“I bet every teacher likes you Mr. I Top Fucking Everything Because I’m A Smartass.”

“It’s just a bit of pressure from my parents. They keep telling me to study and so I do. I don’t want to disappoint them. Although, they have made me hold back a bit from the things I love.”

“Held you back? Like?”

He said with a sad smile, “There are two things that I love: music and volleyball. I love to compose music and rap but my mom didn’t like it so she broke my mic. When my parents found out that the National Team had invited me to join, they immediately refused and told me to quit volleyball. I still secretly play even though. If they find out, they’ll probably kick me out of the house. Still, I want to follow my passions and I try my best to.”

I nodded in realization. The reason he didn’t join the National Team was because his parents were holding him back all along.

“Namjoon, no matter what, I will support you as long as I live. Even though I probably will never see you again, I will support you.”

“Thank you that means a lot to me. And about the last part, could you please come here during practice again sometimes? It really motivates me knowing that there’s someone in the stands who believes in me.”

“I would love to.”

“Will you be coming tomorrow?”

“If you want me to.”

“Please do.”

We just stared into each other’s eyes for a while . The rest of the world didn’t matter to us. The only thing we cared about was each other.

Soon, Namjoon snapped out of it and said, “Well I should take off. Don’t want to make my parents suspicious. Bye Seokjin, or should I call you Jin?”

“Jin is perfectly alright. See you tomorrow.” I smiled, knowing that if I can’t be with this man, at least I can be friends with him.

Just as Namjoon turned his back to me and started walking away, a magazine dropped from his bag.

“Wait, is that Park Seo Joon’s edition of Vogue?”

“Yup. He’s my favourite actor. The most handsome person to bless the earth.”

“What? You like guys?”

“I should probably explain, I’m gay.” He said as a  -matter-of-factly and just left.

I couldn’t believe my ears. Did Namjoon just say he’s gay? Do I actually have a chance with this man? Holy shit. The fact that he just admitted to me he was gay made me grin from ear to ear.

And since then, I never skipped a single day to attend practice.

[hyrulehb]

You Stole My Breath (Give it Back) Chapter 2 Caught in the Closet

part one

part two:

Kou was frustrated, okay maybe that wasn’t the right word to describe his current emotions. Was irate more fitting? Shit, he didn’t know and honestly, it didn’t matter. It had been almost a week since the whole ‘waking up after reviving to find Nagai Kei kissing him and saying he loved him in his own way’ incident. During that time, Kou had yet to trap Kei long enough to demand an explanation or to even have a halfway decent conversation with the cold asshole.

Kou was frustrated, okay maybe that wasn’t the right word to describe his current emotions. Was irate more fitting? Shit, he didn’t know and honestly, it didn’t matter. It had been almost a week since the whole ‘waking up after reviving to find Nagai Kei kissing him and saying he loved him in his own way’ incident. During that time, Kou had yet to trap Kei long enough to demand an explanation or to even have a halfway decent conversation with the cold asshole.

No, Kei had taken to sneaking around the base and it was obvious that he was trying to avoid him. Kou hadn’t seen the other at any meal time and apparently, the other teenager was taking his food to his room. Kou would still report to the tree and see the noose hanging, waiting for him to repeatedly reset in the hope of bringing out an IBM to help fight Sato. While the thought of using it without at least meeting Kei beforehand was intimidating, Kou ended up going through with it. Hours later he would wake up, laying on the forest floor with the only sign of Kei having been there being the cut rope and the shoe prints in the dirt. This cycle continued uninterrupted.

 During meetings, Kei would stand as far as possible from Kou and would disappear as soon as it was over, Izumi was now the one that had to explain what the meeting had been about to Kou. Which was nice in some ways, but aggravating in others. He couldn’t even enjoy the time chattering with the gorgeous female ajin because Kei’s face was stuck in his brain.

 Yeah, that led up to Kou’s other problem. Questioning Kei’s sincerity of his words. Kou had been with some girls and guys in the past so he certainly wasn’t inexperienced or in denial about his own bisexuality. However, not once in their ‘friendship’, if Kou could call it that, had it ever popped into his mind to see Kei as a potential partner… or a romantic one at least.

 Then again, Kou had always found himself leaning towards girls more than guys. Now, here he was sitting on the roof of their compound to get some privacy to think about the aloof intellectual ass some more.

 More often than not, the two young ajin had been at each other’s throats and hurling subtle and not so subtle insults. Still they both shared a connection and concern for the other at the same time. Maybe it was the fact that they were both ajin and in that sense the rest of the world was against them.

 While Kou wore his heart on his sleeve and looked for the good in each person, even in the mercenaries and Tosaki that had attacked and hunted him ruthlessly, Kei was the opposite. Kou often questioned if the dark haired ajin had a heart to begin with when they first met.

  Kei had his reasons, Kou was sure of it, but neither of them had spoken about their pasts and Kei had been tightlipped whenever Kou asked for details about what had happened during the government’s experiments on him. There were plenty of videos online that Kou had seen of other experiments across the world on ajin that gave him a pretty good idea of what had happened. Still the details never came from Kei himself and he felt it would be going behind the shorter ajin’s back if he asked Tosaki or Izumi about it.

 The question was, did he return Kei’s feelings? The answer by all rhyme and reason, should be ‘no’. But, the answer wasn’t that?

 A loud groan left Kou’s lips as he, in a frenzy, ran his hands through his hair in frustration, as if that would somehow alleviate his confusion.  He didn’t hate Nagai, he was a scumbag sure, but he certainly didn’t hate him. In fact, he supposed he admired Kei. The shorter ajin was also willing to do what was necessary for his own survival. No matter the cost, which was, to be frank, frightening. There was never any hesitation in Kei’s hands when he took his own life and forced a reset.

 At the same time, Kei was fighting a war that he claimed no interest in and was laying his immortal life on the line for. The other would also get testy if anyone brought up the name of his childhood best friend ‘Kaito’. That knowledge came from a conversation that Kou had overheard between Tosaki and Kei one night.

 Kei was also smart, a fact that was shoved into Kou’s face quite often, much to his annoyance. But the way the other would think on his feet and come up with plans was astounding. Kou hadn’t been lying when he said that Kei was amazing. It wasn’t hero worship either, after all, Kei was far from a hero with the way he acted and what motivated him.

 Alright step one done, Kou had accepted the fact that he might be in love with Nagai Kei. Step two was figuring out why, which was harder to explain. But he needed to, if only to understand it himself. Yes, he admired Kei because he was smart, daring, and able to push his emotions away. Kei wasn’t bad looking. Kei was shorter than him, lean, kind of solemn faced, rich black hair, and had the same murky red eyes as him that marked him as an ajin. It was when he stared into those eyes that Kou was able to find Kei’s true feelings no matter how much he tried to hide them away.

 These reasons should be enough to justify a high school crush and to start casually dating. But, now that Kou was thinking about it, something felt… deeper than that. Why did he NEED Kei in his life?

Maybe that was the answer…. Need.

 When he was with Kei he felt needed.

 Even if it was just to call the other ajin out on his bullshit. Kou felt that in more than one way, Kei needed him. They were opposites, what did his old literature teacher call that, a ‘foil’. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what cooking had to do with anything.

 That aside, Kou felt that maybe he needed to care for Kei because the dark haired ajin actually didn’t care enough for himself. No one else did either from what Kou had seen on the live news reports when the government first started to hunt for the third recognized ajin in Japan.

 Kou also felt that perhaps Kei’s selfish, cold attitude was just a lie he was hiding behind in an attempt to protect himself from more pain. Then again, maybe it was just wishful thinking on Kou’s part. Regardless, when Kei was around Kou found himself enjoying their moments, even during the yelling. He was determined to drag the other buried heart to the surface.  

 Step two was done, on to the next, how was he going to approach the other ajin when it was so obvious that Kei was doing everything in his power to avoid Kou? Should he let the other come to him when he was ready? Then again Kei wasn’t one to be very keen on admitting a weakness.

 Kou felt his heart squeeze at that thought, was he just a weakness in Kei’s eyes? He couldn’t produce a black ghost, he wasn’t smart, and he had no reputation to be proud of certainly. The only thing that Kou had going for him was his immortality. Which was a pretty good bonus when it meant he didn’t have to worry about speaking his mind to Kei.

 Every time he tried to get even close to Kei the other would find some excuse to leave or would just flat out ignore him and flee. He had a feeling that physically tackling Kei wouldn’t exactly be the best option either to begin a heart to heart conversation.

 Another frustrated groan left Kou’s lips and he flopped onto his back, ignoring the feeling of the uncomfortably hot cement that made up the roof penetrating through his clothes and into his skin.

 The early summer sun was brutal as it shone down on him and he started to sweat, but it didn’t really bother him.

 The now familiar sound of IBM particles crackling and slamming into each other reached Kou’s ears, prompting him to peek over the edge of the roof to the courtyard below. Of course, it was Izumi and Kei training with their black ghosts that clawed, punched, and kicked at the other, aiming for the head in hope of destroying the mummy-like monster. Kou could also see Ogura sitting in the shade of the building watching the battle while puffing on a cigarette.

 The female ajin was much more skilled at controlling her IBM and it didn’t take long for Kei’s to fall. While the teenager could summon another ghost more quickly, Izumi had the advantage of experience and finesse.

 As Kei’s IBM sunk to its knees, Izumi and ‘Kuro-chan’, as she called it, crossed their arms over their chests, a perfect mirror of the other. While Kou was too high up to hear any conversations, he was able to see if their lips moved. The way that Kei jerked suddenly and turned away from the group made Kou assume that, once again, Kei’s IBM had said something strange or embarrassing as Izumi looked first confused and then concerned. But as her mouth started to open Kei spun on his heel and stalked into the building.

 Kou raised a bushy brow, it took a lot to make Kei lose his cool like that.

 The door clanging open behind him made Kou spin around, heart leaping into his throat for a short moment before it fell once more as he saw it was only Hirasawa. He tried to act casual, something that Kou usually spectacularly failed at. Hanging his arm limply over the railing of the roof like he hadn’t been about to attempt jumping over it if an attack was coming his way.

 “H-Hey, old man! Ever heard of knockin’?”

 “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to come to the roof,” Came the short answer from the old mercenary, the man cocking his head slightly as he waited for Kou to get his heartrate back under control. He had to wonder through, “Aren’t you a little close to the edge, I thought you were afraid of heights?”

 “Fuck!”

 One look down gave Kou a dizzying sense of vertigo now that he didn’t have Kei to focus on. With one violent motion, the brunet flung himself away from the railing. He tripped over his own feet however and landed in an ungraceful heap at the balding man’s feet, a moan of pain coming from his lips as he looked up at Hirasawa’s unimpressed face.

 The seconds of silence continued to stretch between them before a sheepish chuckle escaped Kou as he crawled back to his feet, “So umm, what are you doin’ up here anyway?”

 “Actually, I came looking for you,” Hirasawa continued to talk over the teen’s sound of confusion, far too used to it by now. “Your shooting was worse than usual these past few days and I came to ask you the reason why, we can’t afford screw-ups when we go against Sato.”

 “Oh…” Kou wasn’t sure how to answer that question, scratching the back of his head uncertainly he moved to sit on top of one of the inactive fan units. The human followed him without a word, but didn’t sit, instead waiting silently for Kou to answer at his own pace. Which he really did appreciate. Despite their rocky beginnings Kou had come to trust and enjoy his time with the group of mercenaries that had attempted to capture him and hand him over to be strapped to a dissection table.

 Funny how things worked out, the thought made a dopey smile cross Kou’s face and caused Hirasawa to furrow his brows in confusion. But then Kou was frowning again as he wondered how to answer the man. The speed at which different emotions could cross Kou’s face was enough to give anyone whiplash.

  Well, brutal honesty was supposed to be the best policy, right? Kou was going to go with yes. Barely taking a breath as the words spilled out of his lips, “I think that I… ya know, ‘like’ Nagai and he’s being an asshole and avoiding me.”

 Then the whole story of what he had woken up to days before came tumbling out. Only once he was panting did a troubling thought come to Kou’s mind, how would the rough man take the fact that he liked dicks?

 The mercenary appeared to be caught off guard by the confession, blinking slowly as he tried to process the word vomit that had assaulted his ears. Sure, it was surprising, but when you were pressed down in the trenches and facing bullets from all sides one couldn’t exactly be picky about whom your allies were.

 Kou felt that he meshed well with the group of mercenaries, and Kei was something to them… in his own way. They had both seemed to have gradually grown on the old team, even if they were still wary towards the dark-haired ajin.

 “So, you both love each other?” Hirasawa asked softly, Kou sighing as he rubbed at his forehead as he answered, “I mean, yeah, I guess. He kissed me and said as much, even if it was on accident.”

 “And you love him?”

 “Yes!” Kou shocked himself with how quickly and loudly he answered, a blush burning his cheeks under Hirasawa’s gaze. Sure, he accepted that fact but to say it out loud was something else.

 “Well, what are you going to do about it?” There was a militaristic, challenging tone that Hirasawa was taking, making Kou flinch as he whined back, “I don’t know, every option I’ve thought of so far ends with me dead!”

 “And that’s a problem?” Damn teenagers, and their hormones.

 “I mean… I guess not,” Ouch, Kou flinched, but he guessed worrying about a short, albeit, painful death, shouldn’t be intimidating when he had immortality on his side. Still there was another problem that he couldn’t really do anything about, “But during the time that I reset he’s just going to run away. Then I’ll be back to square one or whatever.”

 Hirasawa scratched at his chin, humming softly in thought, yeah, that was a problem that would be harder for Kou to handle on his own. Finally, he patted the brunet on his shoulder, voice assuring as Kou continued to look downtrodden and frustrated, “Don’t worry, kid. It’ll work out.”

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Of course, the researcher had strolled after Kei when he had stormed off, why not?! He was tempted to go tell Ogura to go choke on one of his cigarettes and leave him alone.  But instead Kei remained silent as he walked to his room, a sanctuary with a lock to keep Kou away from him. The ajin researcher silently followed him into it, casually leaning back in the chair by Kei’s desk as he drawled, steepling his fingers together over his chest as he swung the chair from side to side slowly, “So… You going to tell me what all that was about?”

 “I could get my IBM to throw you out of here,” Kei growled back as he moved to sit on his bed after locking the door, still he kept his eyes from meeting Ogura’s. Why did his stupid black ghost have to betray him at every turn? Seriously, every time that he had summoned the monster since his accidental confession, the IBM had continued to repeat that damning phrase: “I love you…dumbass….”

 It was humiliating.

 “You could toss me out, but are you going to?” Ogura’s quip drew Kei out of his thoughts, making him give another glare at him in answer. “It’s highly tempting,”

 “That’s not a ‘yes’,” the researcher chuckled under the increasing intensity of the ajin’s scowl before continuing, “So… You and Nakano? Are you macking on each other?”

 What the fuck did ‘macking’ mean, it had to be some strange American term as Kei didn’t recognize it. After all his time in the United States, the older man definitely didn’t fit the model of a proper Japanese citizen anymore. The meaning of the strange word could have several implications, all other which led to the same result. The pair of ajin being more than friends or allies.  

 ‘There is nothing going on between us’, was what he wanted to say, but couldn’t, instead sitting silently as the chair continued to squeak under Ogura’s movements. Silently, Kei was grateful that the man wasn’t smoking, he seemed to have at least some respect for his space.

 “We are not together,” Which was a true statement, no problem with that.

 “But you want to be.” The sentence was spoken like a statement and not a question, like Ogura could see right through Kei’s chilly exterior. They had spent so much time together talking that that might be the case.

 “No.” That was a lie, and they both knew it as Ogura rolled his eyes and Kei tried to shove down any heat that was building in his cheeks. He tried to speak the next words with conviction, but they sounded hollow to his own ears, “I don’t need a weakness or liability like him to worry about.”

 “True, you can look back in history and see that relationships are like wielding a double-edged sword, plenty of monarchs met their grizzly ends because of some action that their lover or spouse committed.” There were many cases that showed that the lover wasn’t completely to blame, but they could be the tipping point in one way or another. “Is Nakano the first person you’ve ever fallen for?”

 Kei’s eyes narrowed at the curious and overly innocent tone that Ogura was trying to use, subtlety definitely wasn’t the man’s forte, “Are you trying to use this for research, seriously?”

 “Might as well! Two ajins with wildly differing personalities able to get together and do the hanky-panky. It’s a scientific revelation.” Now Kei was certain that Ogura was just throwing weird English words at him to further aggravate him.

 Kei let himself fall back onto his bed breathing slowly to make sure that he didn’t accidentally let his ghost break free and gut the other man. In his own way, Ogura was trying to help, Kei was dimly aware of that as the researcher fell silent to let him gather his thoughts. ‘Double-edged’, huh?

 They stayed like that for a while, dinner the only thing prompting them to leave as it had been midafternoon when the ‘incident’ occurred. Ogura ruffled Kei’s hair in parting, telling him not to worry too much about it.

 A few days later Ogura approached Kei once more, asking for some help looking for something in the storeroom that might help them with more experiments with the IBMs. Seeing no reason not to, he agreed his mind still a mess. Too distracted to think that it was odd to see Hirasawa lounging back against the wall next to the door of large supply closet. Which was already open.

 “Okay, so the cylinders should be in the back-right corner according to Tozaki so let’s search there first,” Ogura muttered making Kei roll his eyes, the researcher had to get a dig in on the pale haired man even when he wasn’t around it would seem.  

 Kei nodded slightly, entering the room first before flinching as he heard the door bang shut behind him. Whirling around he tried the lock, already knowing too well that it would be locked. “Ogura, what the hell is this!?” Kei’s shout echoed in the storeroom, but on the other side of the door it was barely heard as a mumble.

 “Why are you helping with this again?” Hirasawa asked, eyes sliding over to the man he treated as a prisoner not so long ago. It was Ogura that cooked up this scheme after he sought the balding mercenary out about a ‘problem’ a certain two of the ajin were apparently having between each other. They were surprised that the other knew of the situation, but quickly figured out a plan. Hirasawa easily tricked Kou into the storeroom in the same manner as Ogura. The brunet ajin was still digging about in the supply closet, each time being sent in by Hirasawa because he ‘found the wrong part’.

 The researcher just chuckled softly as he lit up his cigarette, ignoring Tosaki’s no indoor smoking rules, he took a long drag on the cancer stick before blowing the smoke into the air while reaching forward to hang a small sign on the shaking doorknob, “Science.”

 Then Ogura called out louder for the ajin to hear him, “Don’t bother trying to use your IBM to break down the door, it won’t work. We’ll check on you two in a couple of hours to see if you’ve worked out your feelings. If not, you can spend the night in there. ‘Kay?”

 The pounding on the door became more frantic before stopping, Ogura smirking as he nudged the taller man in the side, “Come on, let’s get a beer while the lovers figure things out.”

 Hirasawa didn’t protest only following behind the researcher, their fading footsteps barely heard through the thick metal of the door.

 “Nagai?”

 The all too familiar voice made a shiver run down Kei’s spine, he didn’t want to face Kou. Instead he pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the door, like if he tried hard enough he could just melt into it and pretend that this wasn’t happening.

 “Naga-,” Kou cut himself off, taking a deep breath to steady himself as he tried to brace himself for claws coming at him, “Kei, we need to talk.”

Hope you all enjoyed this! Last part will hopefully come out soon, thanks again to @origami10 for editing, and this is part of a birthday gift to @kelpie-hearts

[blackkafka]

“But what's the point of post-racial When old prejudice remains? And that guy who killed that kid Down in Florida standing ground Is free to beat up on his girlfriend And wave his brand new gun around While some kid is dead and buried And laying in the ground With a pocket full of skittles”

Dear Little Brother,

Can you believe it's been five years already?  Time really does fly by.  You would have been 22 now.  I would like to tell you that in the time since your life was robbed from this world, that this country and society has progressed.  That we learned from the lessons of the past.That the nation grew and started to heal the wounds deep into our history.  But we haven't.  In some ways, most ways, we've taken steps back. You wouldn't believe  who's the President now!  It's still kinda crazy thinking about now. I cried the night of the election results.  We went from electing the first noticeably black president to one that is very much supported by white supremacists and white nationalists.  One that can publicly bend the truth in many ways not seen before in this country.  And he gets away with.  It's supposed to be payback. We're supposed to keep our mouths shut and deal with it. The next four years are going to be very long and tiring.  But we endure.

I started graduate school the fall of 2012.  It was the start of period of when I was depressed and overworked between work, jobs, and school.  And trying to figure out my identity and place in the world. It hurt when people would avoid sitting next to me on train, no matter how well I dressed, or how intellectual I looked.  Isn't the dream to have some cute girl sit next you, strike up a conversation, make a connection, and take it from there?  No such thing here.  It's kinda cringe worthy to think about this now.  Living in some fantasy world.  Or how much it hurt when the students I was supposed to go out of my way to help would be the same ones who would do a similar thing of avoiding sitting next to me on the shuttle from the parking lots.  I think this time it hurt more. Here are my comrades, here are the people are supposed to work with me, and who I work and advocate for and apparently it's better to stand than sit next to me? Okay.  Anger. Frustration. Sadness. And when I tried talking to someone who I considered a friend about how I was feeling, they redirected the conversation to themselves.  In retrospect, I probably should have gotten professional help.  But I fell into myself. And hid away.  As I always do and did.  Anyone who really knows me, and really I've only told a few people about this, the first one who I love in ways no one else will know, one who I always  will love, and another who I wish knew how much I care about him, knows that I've always had emotional issues growing up, to the fact I have made multiple attempts at my own life.  But hey, it's good to be absolutely horrible at something, right? Yet we endure.

These experiences made me rethink my blackness and what it meant to be black man in society.  I wasn't as comfortable in it as I am now.  Because I had avoided and ran from it for so long. I used to avoid listening to hip-hop/rap in public because I didn't want to seen as a certain way.  But really, what was I doing?  Why was I trying to be accepted by a world, by people who will never full accept me?  Why try to please the other so much?  You know they always tell you how you're an "Oreo" or how  you're not really "black."  As if blackness has only one facet, one aspect of it.  Because if you don't fit their little idea of what it means to be black, which is usually "ghetto" well then you're one of the good ones.  You speak like you're white. You listen to the same music. You like their movies, their literature.  Maybe you even date their women. You're one of them, until you're reminded that you're not. Because at the short slice, at the quick glance you are what you skin color says you are. You're tall, you're dark skinned.  And that carries weight.  It carries a presence. How you use it, the choice is yours. It’s a power unto your own.  For a while I didn't want to only be defined as this. That I'm more thank my race, my skin color.  I realized now how much internalized racism I had in me that prevented fully embracing who I was.  That this is a fundamental part of who I am, and it doesn't completely define me, but rather has helped formulate the framework in which I see, feel, hear, experience the world around.  The lens through which I am focused. The scanner darkly, so be it.

And you know, after you died, I didn't wear hoodies for almost half a year.  I don't even know if it was fully a conscious decision, but it happened.  I when I thought about it,the full weight hit me.  And I remember my dad warning to me watch myself, and me wanting to blow it off, that he didn't understand. Hubris, ain't it?  But it was really a reminder for him of the times that he grew up in, a reminder that maybe things hadn't really changed in the 50 years since he was kid.  And when I thought about it, really thought about it, it hit me.  And I fell even harder.  I remember when, during an abnormally warm Thanksgiving break, when the two verdicts arrived. And the riots.  And I cried again.  Humiliation. "If I die this instant/Taken from a distance/They would probably list it down/Among other things 'round town"  Thank you America.

From you a movement started.  A movement vilified, for a phrase that needs a "too."  Because time and time again, it is shown how much less our lives are worth to many, how we can be thrown aside.  Unless you are the coon, playing, and miming for them,falling into step, that's when they'll accept you. Chuckin and jivin.  Yessa sir. No ma'am.  Be their pretty little negro, the shining of example of what they should be. Do your part boy and keep your head down. But it's tiring being something you are not. Once they've used you up, they'll cast you aside.  And the struggle fights on.  The duality of our nature.  What it means to be black, and to be American.  Don't they know the purist things, strictly American, are our products?  Blues, Jazz, Rock, these are all black creations, lest we forget.  Made from our fire and fight. Forged through creation and love and anger. Tempered through passion and devotion.

My biggest fear, when it comes to children is how I will have to raise my sons, if I have any. Because black boys are hard to raise.  I cannot deny what my parents did for me helped in the long run, but damn, did it hurt.  Try accepting that, as a nine year old, that the people you want to trust, your very teachers, will think you don't belong, that you aren't capable of being in those advanced classes, that you have to try twice as hard as your white counterparts to succeed, because being good isn't enough.  You have to be the best, no exceptions. Giving it all isn't enough. Give more.  Pour yourself into your work until no one can think you don't belong. Show that you earned your spot, and it's not out of pity. Flawless from start to finish. It is unacceptable to settle. Push yourself. Endure. Push. Endure. Push. Endure. A modern day John Henry in the classroom.  Black boys, yes black boys. Are different.  You try teaching a kid to be hard.  To not take any shit  from the world. To be strong in the face of adversity, and hide and bury it all deep inside until it eats away at  your core.  But you have to be able to turn it off. To love the women in your life. To love the world around you.  And ultimately love yourself. It's really, really hard. To be a series of co-existing hypocrisies and contradictions. Which is why I'm so scared.  Because I don't know if I can do right by him.  I want  a better world for him, so he doesn't have to hate himself, and be happy, and make mistakes, and not be judged.  But that world doesn't exist.  So I will learn.  I read much more about feminism, and how it relates to me as a black man.  I'm still learning though, and will never stop. "“Rules and responsibilities: these are the ties that bind us. We do what we do, because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves. I will do what I have to do. And I will do what I must.”

Do you know what is like to see a black boy go soft?  It's the reason why I love Mahershala Ali so much: sure, he is handsome and classy, but watch the way he changes, how he pivots.  It's so beautiful. It's what I aspire to do myself. To put of this facade, but then change into something completely different within seconds.  When a black boy can go soft before you, watch the age fall away, watch the guard be let down.  It shows they trust you.  Don't take it for granted. I had a conversation where I was the older black guy talking to younger men, the one teaching, the one on his soapbox.  And it was so different from what I was used to. But in those moments, I gained brothers. I worry for them, to see them go through the same things I did, the same struggles. I hope the best for them, I will always love them with a special place in my heart.  Stay pure, stay true. Love yourself before anyone else.

I guess this is where I wrap things up, and say good-bye. I wish I knew you. I wish a person had just listened to what emergency services said, and maybe you'd still be alive today.  Black boys have to be perfect. They dragged you the way Hector was dragged around Troy.  Because if you are anything less than perfect, they will destroy you. Every little mistake, every folly, every blemish will be brought to fruition.  We will never be held to the same standards as them. We can't be stupid and make mistakes like white boys can because it is a matter of life and death.  A childhood robbed. An adulthood never seen. I hope, really hope, that one day I can look back at these things and these feelings and not have to worry about them. But that day isn't today, so it be. So it is. So it goes.

So long little brother.

[ethanalter]

'Paterson' Director Jim Jarmusch on His 'Film in the Form of a Poem' Starring Adam Driver, and a Look Back at Past Favorites

Adam Driver plays a bus driver/poet in ‘Paterson’ (Photo: Amazon Studios)

With his shock of white hair, eclectic artistic tastes, and longtime presence on New York City’s Lower East Side, Jim Jarmusch remains an aspirational figure for would-be Gotham hipster poets. It’s a status the writer/director has held since the early 1980s, when his scruffy black-and-white movies like Permanent Vacation and Stranger than Paradise enraptured audiences, preserving a period in Manhattan’s artistic and youth culture that, seen today, almost appears to be taking place on a different planet. Of course, the filmmaker’s canvas has long since broadened beyond his local stomping ground. Celebrated films like Down by Law, Mystery Train, Night on Earth, and Only Lovers Left Alive have taken him to other cities and countries, illustrating how his unique, dryly funny point of view travels well.

For his latest feature, Paterson — which opened in limited release on Dec. 28 and goes into theaters across the map this month — Jarmusch joins New York’s bridge-and-tunnel crowd, commuting across the Hudson to the titular New Jersey town, most famous as the birthplace of Lou Costello. Paterson also happens to be the name of the film’s main character, a bus driver and poet (Adam Driver) who finds creative inspiration, rather than frustration, in the daily grind of his work routine. It’s no accident that there are two Patersons in Paterson; the entire film is suffused with visual couplets, as if we’re watching one of the driver’s (or would that be Driver’s?) poems being written on screen in front of our eyes. Yahoo Movies spoke with Jarmusch about finding poetry in everyday life, his endless love for the Wu-Tang Clan, and his other 2016 film, the Iggy Pop and the Stooges documentary Gimme Danger.

Jim Jarmusch (Photo: Getty Images)

As befits a movie about a poet, Paterson’s structure is very poetic, with each day almost resembling the stanza of a poem. Was that always your conceit? I think it’s a film in the form of a poem rather than a poem in the form of a film, if that makes any sense. One of my favorite things in all art forms is variations, whether it’s in the music of Bach or in the work of Andy Warhol. And obviously a simple metaphor for variations are the days of the week and how things change slightly [from day-to-day]. In this film, the variations involve a guy who’s very much tied to his routine. He likes not thinking about what’s he going to wear, what time he gets to work, or what he’s going to do after dinner. I think that’s why he’s able to drift and be a poet, because he doesn’t have to worry about any of that. It’s already set for him.

The poetic nature of the film also applies to Paterson’s relationship with his wife Laura, played by Golshifteh Farahani. Even though they have wildly different attitudes toward creativity, those perspectives actually complement each other. It’s as if they rhyme, after a fashion. Yeah, I think there’s a yin-yang thing about them that makes them have a very compatible kind of love story. And you see that same sort of rhyme in other scenes, like with the twins that keep re-appearing. They’re a little motif woven in there without intended meaning; I didn’t want it to pay off in the end like, “Laura pregnant with twins.” Or the scene with the guys in the car who warn Paterson that his dog could get stolen. I didn’t want them to be dog-jackers; I was intentionally not having some of these things pay off in the expected way.

There’s even some rhyming with your own filmography. I’m thinking of the scene toward the end of the film featuring the Japanese actor, Masatoshi Nagase, who appeared in your 1989 film, Mystery Train. It becomes that, but that wasn’t my intention. I usually write scripts for specific actors and hope that then I can trick them into doing it somehow. The only actor I did intend [to cast] while I was writing was Masatoshi. I thought, “Now he’s a middle-aged guy, and he’s a wonderful actor — what a great chance I would have to have him be the angelic character that appears here.”

Do you think of your characters as inhabiting the same universe? No, I really don’t think that way. In this case, there are some similarities. In Mystery Train, Masatoshi played a young guy on a rock and roll pilgrimage, and this time, his character is on a kind of William Carlos Williams pilgrimage. So there’s something in there, but I try not to analyze that too much.

So we’ll never see Ghost Dog team up with the Lone Man from The Limits of Control, for example. I don’t know, maybe! The only time I really did that on purpose was in Dead Man where Gary Farmer played Nobody in that film, and in the end he was killed. I was very upset to have him killed somehow! So I brought him back in a totally different century in Ghost Dog where he’s on a rooftop in Jersey City. I consciously did that, because I didn’t want to think of him as being dead. [Laughs]

Adam Driver and Golshifteh Farahani in ‘Paterson’ (Photo: Amazon Studios)

You mentioned that you like to write your scripts with actors already in mind. Was that the case with Adam Driver? Oddly, I didn’t write for him or Golshifteh, but as I was trying to figure out the ideal actor, I told our casting director, Ellen Lewis, that I’d like to meet Adam. I’d only seen him in a few things: Inside Llewyn Davis, Frances Ha, and Girls, but I heard some interviews with him and I was like, “I just want to meet this guy.” He was the perfect guy to be Paterson. He’s a wonderful actor, and he’s a bit like Paterson in that he’s very observational as a person. He’s not analytical, like myself. He doesn’t overthink things, he approaches a character by getting a handle on that person and then just trying to react as that person in each scene. He has a wonderful presence and voice and face, and he’s a very compassionate person with a kind of nice, sort of reserved sense of humor.

He’s almost upstaged by the movie’s scene-stealing canine performer, Nellie, who plays the couple’s dog, Marvin. Yes, Nellie. She played transgender in the film. She was a shelter dog, and had incredible trainers. We got all of her scenes with little trouble. We loved having her on our set and in our film. The crew wasn’t really allowed to interact with her, because she needs to have her trainers be the ones that she listens to, as well the actors that she’s working with. Marvin is their surrogate child in a way, and the character has quite a strong personality, so Nellie pulled that off really well. [Nellie passed away before the film’s premiere at the Cannes Film Festival, where she won the “Palm Dog” award posthumously.]

Nellie in ‘Paterson’. (Photo: Amazon Studios)

Paterson, the city, is another character in the film. Did you shoot on location? I wanted to shoot everything in Paterson, but for tax credit purposes, I was limited. This isn’t social realism, so I wanted to create an imagined Paterson that still had the feel of the real place. Obviously, the waterfalls and the bus depot are Paterson, but we shot several scenes in Yonkers and the bar where Paterson goes is in Queens.

It’s always fun to see members of the Wu-Tang Clan pop up in your movies, like Method Man in Paterson. Are you always thinking of ways to include them? I’m a big Wu-Tang fan, so my collaborations with RZA and GZA meant a lot to me. And I’ve hung out with Ghostface and Raekwon at certain points, too. So this time, I asked Method Man to do a little thing, and he wrote his rap himself, and even quoted William Carlos Williams all on his own. They’re a collective of brilliant, incredible people; I love their innovations, philosophies, and investigations into martial arts culture. They’re like Iggy Pop in that they’re intellectuals without being refined by academics. Wu-Tang forever! [Laughs]

Speaking of Iggy Pop, you collaborated with him this year on the documentary, Gimme Danger, which covers the story of his band, The Stooges. The Stooges are very important to me, so I wanted to make a film celebrating them. It’s not like one of these documentaries that’s looking for all the dirt you could find. It’s really more about, “Where did this music come from? Where did these guys come from? How were they treated? What do they give us?” That was a fun film to make. While we were shooting Paterson, I talked to Iggy on the phone, and he said, “I was voted the sexiest man alive by the Paterson Girls Club of 1970.” I said, “Come on, really?” Then we looked it up and he was! So I put that in Paterson. He’s currently up for a Golden Globe for a song he wrote for the movie Gold, and also a Grammy Award for his album, Post Pop Depression. He’s worth a lot in prizes, that guy. That’s in one of his songs: “I’m worth a million in prizes.”

His collaboration with David Bowie is mentioned in passing in the film, but not really explored. Do you hope to make a separate documentary about that period in his career? Well, our film was about The Stooges. If I wanted to make a film about Iggy Pop’s entire career, that would be 12 hours long! Bowie’s mentioned because he was involved in the last Stooges record, Raw Power, but a lot of the real collaborations between Bowie and Iggy came after The Stooges, so that was not the content of our film. He made incredible stuff when they went to Berlin together. Bowie even played keyboards with Iggy’s band during one tour, and did backup vocals.

Ghost Dog is a film that’s had a long cultural afterlife. Are there other films you’ve made that people are still eager to discuss with you? Dead Man comes up a lot; that one seems to resonate. It’s a favorite of mine, and there’s something about it that invites repeat viewings. We tried to put a lot of layers into it, including comedy and very dark historical things. It took a lot of work by all of us to get that damned thing made! RZA, Forest Whitaker, and I are actually trying to do a TV show based on Ghost Dog now. There’s even a script for the pilot, which I love. I didn’t write it, but it’s fantastic so I’m hoping that might happen.

One of my favorites of yours is The Limits of Control, which I think was undervalued when it was originally released. It plays like an anti-Jason Bourne spy movie. That was another case of us trying to not satisfy expectations. Much more so than Paterson actually, because there isn’t a lot of plot in The Limits of Control and there isn’t really any action. It’s more of an atmosphere that we wanted to see. We thought, “Can you make an interesting film without fulfilling those expectations?” And some people will say, “No, you did not!” [Laughs] Others sort of found a connection to it. I’m proud of that one, too. It was an interesting experiment.

[mrmichaelchadler]

A Look Back at the 10th Annual TCM Classic Film Festival

HOLLYWOOD — Double anniversaries: This year’s TCM Film Festival marked two milestones, the 25th anniversary of the classic movie channel, which bowed on April 14, 1994, and the 10th anniversary of its namesake annual event.

In a movie landscape challenged by new platforms, industry consolidation and general entertainment overload, TCM remains a beacon for film buffs. “We’ve stayed true to our mission of showing films the way they’re meant to be seen, uncut and commercial free,” said Jennifer Dorian, TCM general manager. “That mission has not changed over 25 years. And when we started doing this festival, it made sense that it would be the context in which we started to bring people together and then showcase these films once again on these incredible screens in Hollywood.”

Held April 11-14 at the historic TCL Chinese Theatre complex, Egyptian Theatre, Cinerama Dome and the Roosevelt Hotel, the classic movie marathon featured more than a hundred films and events, with most programmed to reflect the festival’s main theme “Follow Your Heart: Love at the Movies.” That certainly was the case for the opening-night attraction “When Harry Met Sally …” (1989), with stars Billy Crystal and Meg Ryan and director Rob Reiner appearing at the TCL Chinese IMAX to celebrate the rom-com’s 30th anniversary. Though “Harry” might seem relatively new by TCM standards, “We had no idea back then if it would stand the test of time,” Crystal told the crowd. Reiner added, “You never know. You make a movie, and hopefully it turns out well, and hopefully others like it, too.”

Also in the opening-night audience was Ted Turner, the broadcast industry magnate whose purchase of the MGM film library in 1986 gave rise to TCM. Along with Turner, others receiving special tributes during the festival were casting director Juliet Taylor, producer Fred Roos, filmmaker Nora Ephron and film historian Kevin Brownlow. Fox Studios, founded in 1905, reincarnated as 20th Century Fox in 1935 and swallowed whole by Disney in 2019, also was feted, with screenings of landmark titles such as “Sunrise: A Story of Two Humans” (1927), “The Sound of Music” and perhaps the studio’s biggest all-time blockbuster and game-changer, “Star Wars: Episode IV - A New Hope: Special Edition” (1977).

Adding star power were appearances by actors and filmmakers Diane Baker, Jacqueline Bisset, Ronee Blakley, John Carpenter, Keith Carradine, Frank Darabont, Dana Delany, Angie Dickinson, Louis Gossett Jr., Bill Hader, Barbara Rush, Kurt Russell and Alex Trebek. Also scheduled to appear but unable to attend were Norman Lear, Shirley MacLaine, Gena Rowlands and Lily Tomlin.

Among the restored titles receiving world premieres were “Do the Right Thing” (1989), “Escape from Alcatraz” (1979), “Holiday” (1938), “The Killers” (1964), “Kind Hearts and Coronets” (1949), “Merrily We Go to Hell” (1932), “Nashville” (1975) and “Winchester ’73” (1950, U.S. premiere showing). 

Though the festival’s tent-pole titles attracted overflow crowds, some of the greatest moments came courtesy of lesser-known films, such as the many pre-Code offerings, rediscoveries and special formats (including nitrate and Cinerama). Here are 10 for the 10th:

"Night World"

Eighty the hard way: Introducing the pre-Code drama “Night World” (1932), Susan Karloff noted that her father Boris “made a lot of films like this”—movies that weren’t prestige projects but were entertaining and well-made nonetheless. A year earlier, Karloff teamed with Mae Clarke for “Frankenstein,” his breakthrough movie, and they reunited for “Night World,” which also features Lew Ayres, George Raft and Hedda Hopper, before she reinvented herself as a professional gossip-monger. “’Frankenstein’ was his 81st film,” Susan Karloff said. ”Nobody saw the first 80.”

Ted Turner on the success of TCM: It comes down to one simple truth: “People like old stuff.” That’s how the founder of Turner Broadcasting, which begat Turner Classic Movies, explained the enduring popularity of the acclaimed cable channel. Now that he’s reached his golden years, the onetime Mouth of the South admitted that he has realized “I’m old, so people finally like me.”

The low-budget bang of the Bs: A turn-away crowd flocked to “Open Secret” (1948), a film noir tinged with social activism, and screened as one of the festival’s many “Discoveries.” Eddie Muller, “The Czar of Noir” and host of TCM’s “Noir Alley,” observed: “This is probably the biggest single crowd ever to see this movie, which is as B as B gets. If they spent more than $2,000 on this film, I’d be amazed.” Despite the movie’s modest origins, “Open Secret” bravely takes aim at nativism and prejudice in post-war America. “I’m very happy to present this movie,” Muller said. “It’s as down and dirty as it gets.”

"Santo vs. the Evil Brain"

Lucha libre, viva Mexico! The midnight screening of the cult/camp classic “Santo vs. the Evil Brain” quickly turned into spectacle as two fans in lucha libre garb swarmed the theater, tossing out treats and trinkets, including El Santo masks on sticks. A Mexican folk hero, El Santo was a luchador enmascarado (masked wrestler) and fighter for justice. As portrayed by actor Rodolfo Guzman Huerta, El Santo appeared in more than 50 films, including the first in the series, “Santo Contra el Cerebro del Mal” (1961, “Santo vs. the Evil Brain”). “It’s a miracle that we’re showing this film,” said archivist Viviana Garcia Besne, whose grandfather introduced El Santo to the screen. “The Mexican film industry is not supporting these movies, despite their popularity.” Her father found the original camera negative of “Santo vs. the Evil Brain,” “so with the centennial of El Santo [Guzman Huerta] in 2017, we thought we should restore his movies.” She implored the audience to revel in the film’s over-the-top spirit: “You must react or you’ll fall asleep.”

Remembering the King of the Cowboys: Through the ’20s, Tom Mix rode tall in the saddle and revolutionized the Western by focusing on action and performing his own stunts. A century later, however, he’s all but forgotten. Introducing a double feature of “The Great K&A Train Robbery” (1926) and “Outlaws of Red River” (1927) at the Legion Theatre, TCM senior programming director Scott McGee paid tribute to “the ultimate cowboy star” and mentioned that several of his younger TCM colleagues had never heard of Mix, once nicknamed “The Rent Man” by theater exhibitors. Most of Mix’s nearly 300 films (all but nine were silent) were lost in a 1937 studio fire, so those TCM youngsters could be forgiven for their ignorance.  

Shot on location in Colorado, “The Great K&A Train Robbery” proved that “the real natural wonder was Mix himself,” McGee said. “He was a bona-fide cowboy and horseman of the highest order.” Mix’s penchant for fancy duds emphasized that he was “all about the show and the flash. He knew that clothes do make the man.” MoMa curator Anne Morra added that even though “his clothes weren’t trail-worthy, he always gets the girl,” and pointed out that Mix’s trusty steed, Tony the Wonder Horse, outlived his master, who died in a car accident in 1940, by two years.

"It Happened Here"

Speaking truth to power: Accepting the second annual Robert Osborne Award, which honors individuals crucial in maintaining the legacy and preservation of classic films, historian, author and filmmaker Kevin Brownlow warned the crowd that he was going to go off-script. “Where’s release of ‘Hollywood’?” he said, referring to his influential documentary series about the silent-film era, shown on TV in 1980 but never released in a home-video format due to rights issues.

As part of the Brownlow tribute, TCM screened his own “It Happened Here,” which imagines what might have occurred if Germany had conquered Britain during World War II. At 15, Brownlow began making the docudrama with creative partner Andrew Mollo, and over eight years, the two attracted eventual assistance from directorial lions Tony Richardson and Stanley Kubrick. As “It Happened Here” began to roll at the Egyptian, and introductory credits about the movie’s restoration identified it as a 1965 release, Brownlow from his seat shouted out “1964!”

The patriarchy strikes back: Though she was the first female to receive the Directors Guild Fellowship Award and successfully helmed seven films from 1966 to 1974, writer/director/producer Stephanie Rothman found herself on the outs by the mid-’70s. Speaking before a midnight screening of her “Student Nurses” (1970), Rothman recalled that studio chiefs thought she was “too intellectual”—even though she specialized (by necessity) in exploitation fare. In the early ’80s, one exec finally brought her in for a meeting to discuss a project for a young male director about to make his first studio film. “It sounded just like my own ‘Velvet Vampire’ [1971],” Rothman said. “So I asked them, why not hire me? They didn’t.” The filmmaker and film in question turned out to be Tony Scott and the vampire-themed “The Hunger” (1983).

"The Killers"

Taking dead aim at the truth: Always the straight shooter, actress Angie Dickinson told it like it was in her introductory remarks before “The Killers” (1964), Don Siegel’s crime thriller, loosely based on the Ernest Hemingway short story. Shot in unusually vivid Eastman Color, it follows two hit men (Lee Marvin and Clu Gulager) trying figure out the score of their score. Neither of the male leads—John Cassavetes as the mark and Ronald Reagan as the mastermind—wanted to be in this movie, she recalled. In his last film before he launched his political career, Reagan made “The Killers” “just to get out of his contract.” And Cassavetes—“that is some Greek”—“was pretty quiet,” she said. “The film wasn’t his style but he needed the work,” she added, referring to the actor-director’s preference for his own indie, iconoclastic projects. Dickinson attributes the film’s success to Siegel (“an absolute doll—adorable!”) and Cassavetes (“he was so charismatic, he didn’t have to do anything on the screen”), and not so much to Reagan: “You could tell that he was kinda dying back there.”

As for why she didn’t become a bigger star, Dickinson said, “It didn’t happen. It takes a lot of luck, and I didn’t have the drive. The parts weren’t there. So I did ‘Police Woman’”—her hit ’70s series—“which was a grind and did me in.” At that point, TCM host Ben Mankiewicz reminded her that 100 episodes of “Police Woman” was nothing to sneeze at, and Dickinson quickly corrected him: “Actually, 91.” She laughed and added, “I am such a truth buff.”

The circle of life, Tinsel Town edition: Introducing the silent film “A Woman of Affairs” (1928), starring Greta Garbo and John Gilbert, which was screened with a full orchestra led by Carl Davis conducting his own score, at the historic Egyptian, film scholar Leonard Maltin acknowledged a stroke of serendipity: “We have one of those only in Hollywood moments tonight. Performing on the French horn in the orchestra is the great-great grandson of John Gilbert.”

The enduring legacy of Robert Osborne: Throughout the festival, many luminaries saluted the late figurehead of TCM. “Robert loved this festival,” said Kevin Brownlow. “He lobbied for it for years and basked in its success and its shared community.” Speaking ahead of “Magnificent Obsession” (1954), in which she co-starred opposite Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman, Barbara Rush recalled, “We grew up together in the business. It was Robert who really got TCM going,” she said, reflecting on Osborne’s own magnificent obsession. “He was like a very dear brother to me. Plus, he knew everything, especially about the movies.”

from All Content http://bit.ly/2PkpYgT

[universeinform-blog]

Trains, Planes and Automobiles: your travel options during

New Post has been published on https://universeinform.com/2017/03/30/trains-planes-and-automobiles-your-travel-options-during/

Trains, Planes and Automobiles: your travel options during

Wintry weather Hurricane Stella is barrelling down at the Northeast, and maximum fundamental transit structures in the course of the vicinity are being floored to a halt.

The airways that perform out of Bradley International Airport in Windsor Locks and Logan Airport in Boston are canceling arrivals and departures left and proper.

Amtrak also introduced changed schedules for teaching routes jogging between Washington and Boston, and people with reservations for teach journey are being advocated to reveal situations and take a look at their educate’s repute earlier than heading leaving domestic.

Amtrak introduced there may be no Acela Explicit carrier among New york Town and Boston, and there might be modified service among NY City and Washington.

also, the Northeast Regional service between Boston and Washington and other routes will function on a modified schedule with a few trains “truncated or canceled.”

The Growth and Development of the Automobile Industry – A Deeper Insight

The word “Automobile” has its origins in Greek and Latin and it has ended up an essential a part of each guy’s existence. It has grown to be so integral that on a median, someone spends a minimum 3 hours in his vehicle each day. The car changed into once thought of as a luxurious and simplest a pick out few could indulge in. Now, the times have changed and motors have come to be a means of transportation catering to the sizable majority.

The transformation from luxury to inevitability

Cars, in widespread, check with the humble car and the estimates advocate that there may be a vehicle for every eleven humans on this planet amounting as much as 590 million passenger motors. There are numerous variations of automobiles that cater to each cross phase of the population. There are variants that could set you back by means of multiple million dollars and different models that price you some thousand bucks.

The technological advances within the Vehicle quarter have been incredible inside the ultimate a hundred years. The century’s finest invention or development need to truly belong to the automobile industry. One of the earliest pioneers of the automobile enterprise become Ransom Olds from the Oldsmobile manufacturing unit. within the early 1900’s, he brought the Production Line idea, therefore churning out automobiles each little while. This concept became significantly revolutionized and applied by way of Henry Ford, who extended Automobile enterprise to the next level. Ford speedy grew within the first half of 20th century and slowly however regularly spread globally.automobile insurance quotes online

Growing alongside time

With the advancement of age, the automobile industry step by step grew in continental Europe and England. Japan introduced fine projects that further improved the enterprise. Toyota from Japan were the pioneers of Total first-rate Control and six Sigma, that have been the guiding standards of the car industry for the ultimate 50 years. Nowadays, Toyota is the world’s largest Vehicle organization consistent with current market estimates.

The global growth of the 1980’s was in large part due to the car revolution. Ford, standard Vehicles and Chrysler, the big 3 automobile giants of America, had a massive say on u. S . A .’s financial system. They determined the health of the financial system and the recent worldwide financial recession has affected them badly. This has made them approach the authorities for loans and advantages, which have been fulfilled by way of the authorities after setting appropriate clauses.

Creation of technology and innovations

The car has transcended from being a medium of transportation to a medium of amusement after the appearance of notable fast motors competing in opposition to every other. NASCAR and F1 races are huge crowd pullers each yr. People have made fortunes and drivers of those machines have made their call in records. The reality that Vehicle racing entails massive fees has made the racing enterprise reel in these uncertain financial instances. The sport has visible tragedies with the loss of life in sometimes. This has made room for strict safety regulations, which might be now mandatory for all the auto indicates.

The negative part

Even though man has made a massive soar ahead with vehicles, there may be a disadvantage to this technological surprise. The emissions from these machines have raised serious environmental concerns with requires greater beef vehicles. Car businesses have invested extremely in research and improvement of beef automobiles. Except for this unmarried downside, there is slightest of doubts to say that cars were the locate of the previous century.

What Travel Agents Should Keep in Mind When Choosing a DMC Partner

A DMC (Vacation spot Control Business enterprise) presents full-size nearby Vacation spot information and work because of the extension of your travel organization. Going by means of their process responsibilities, any DMC is accountable for presenting logistic services of their Destination starting from the meet and greet options, transfers, lodge accommodation, themed activities, convention venues, more than one eating alternatives etc. They want to be trusted at both creative and professional degrees.bing travel predictor

Automobile transport

At the quiet of the day, nobody, however, the DMCs can offer the nice preferential costs for travel change offerings. A professional DMC will update itself on the ultra-modern training, requirements, and practices within the DMC industry. Keeping and bringing excellence and ethical enterprise practices are what is critical to surviving on this aggressive tourism section. Other than the intangible qualifications, the subsequent quotients are necessary to choose before rating someone as a dependable DMC.

Relevant Revel in

It is important that your DMC have to be efficient in managing itinerary creation which serves as the key issue of staying organized and making it attractive to the primary-time tourists. Display your DMC whether they have got bought comparable excursions and activities you’re seeking out. Additionally,

Consciousness at the marketing and provider strengths to recognize the way to strategize the tour plans. It would not be any manner wise to associate with a DMC who isn’t always positive of the call for from their patron base. For a DMC, industry knowledge is vital for planning activities, tour, and meetings.

Economic Balance

Remote places commercial enterprise needs to be finished with a great deal care and caution. Every so often the condescending attitude of the international shoppers can be cleared via discussions like whether they have any records of running with comparable excursion operators or what are their Economic sources and credit worthiness.

Stable Partnerships

Sturdy, lengthy-standing partnerships with clients and retail tour marketers will make the holiday Enjoy smoother for the vacationers. This is all of the more essential for the Overseas partners to ensure cease-to-end, day tour service.

Contacts

One of the primary responsibilities for a Destination Control Business enterprise is to execute the tourism plans and for this, they want to be well related to meet the expectations of your clients and get you repeat enterprise. It’s, therefore, essential to recognize how many and what varieties of neighborhood provider vendors they’re linked to, whether It’s motels, floor transportation groups, interest vendors or maybe authorities bodies.

Ok resources

A Destination Management Organization is anticipated to deal with the whole factor of the social calendar of the patron. To get the maximum from your DMC, make sure to test what that particular DMC specializes in the expected range of services.

Check whether they are Vacation spot marketer

Nearby know-how and knowledge are the main promoting points of any DMC. However, what makes one DMC better than the other is how they installation their neighborhood knowledge on tourism strategies. A very good DMC should be capable of creating demand for his or her Destination which would be wrapped in innovative sports.

Teenagers Should Be Allowed to Work During School Holidays – What Is Your Opinion?

These days, it isn’t always outlandish to see many teens are operating element-time as promoters or income girls at some point of the faculty holidays. Dad and mom are inclined to allow their children to work component-time so that their kids will spend their faculty holidays nicely without losing any time on surfing the internet and playing laptop games. However

A few Mother and father do no longer allow their children to work component-time because they have the fallacy of thinking that their youngsters aren’t mature enough to work. In my opinion, I partly agree that teens need to be allowed to work at some point of the school holidays because of the motives that young adults can earn their very own pocket money, study adequate understanding from working and the teens’ teachers overall performance might be affected.

Faculty vacations are defined as a length for the students to relaxation and keep away from their school routines. While operating is referred to as physical or intellectual sports executed to fulfill the tasks and is rewarded in financial phrases.

One of the points I’m able to highlight is pocket money may be earned via young adults via running in the course of the college vacations. As an example, those who work as promoters in the shopping malls can earn RM5 an hour as their more profits. As a result, their Dad and mom’ burden can be decreased as teens do not want to invite for pocket money from their Mother and father for everyday prices.

Teenagers may even keep the cash they earn from running to shop for reference books and stationery that they need. Consequently, Dad and mom do not want to fear on the school charges as their youngsters are able to fork out on their own. young adults also can afford to buy matters that they long for inclusive of telephones, laptops, and shoes. In brief, young adults have to be allowed to paintings in the course of the college holidays because of the more profits they are able to get.how to use during