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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1189

survey by chasingghosts

What do you like about the house you live in? I relishhhhhhhhh the fact that we have a rooftop with a nice and calming view. I’m the only one in the family who makes good use out of it, so it’s a nice place to escape to whenever I need or want to be alone.

What furniture do you own? The only Adulting-related thing I’ve ever bought so far was my bedside lamp haha. I'm not comfortable investing in bigger things yet, and I’m still at the point where I’m rather carefree when it comes to my purchases i.e. expanding my BTS merch lol. I don’t put a lot of pressure on myself, and I appreciate that my parents don’t either.

What's the most cliche song you can think of right now? I feel like most of the Top 40 genre have generic and cliché concepts, but that won’t stop me from listening to them from time to time.

Name three of your favourite crepe toppings. I never liked crepes. I never understood why they have to be so thin hahaha. Do you watch How I Met Your Mother? What did you think of the ending? No, it never interested me.

Have you ever played paintball? Did you get hit? I never have.

Right now, are you too hot, too cold or just right? Too hot. It’s remained quite chilly in the evenings until tonight, which is an unwelcome but expected change considering we’re in May and the drastic change in temperature was bound to come any time soon. Still, the inside of the house is at least several Celsius degrees higher so I’m fine with staying here even though I’m already mildly sweating.

What was your favourite fairy tale when you were a kid? I never was into fairytales and I think I may have skipped out on them entirely as a kid.

Do you depend on others for happiness? I wouldn’t say I’m dependent. My conversations with my friends simply complement the happiness I can already provide myself with.

How do you feel today? Tell me about it. Physically, mostly uncomfortable because of the heat. Otherwise, I had a great time just spending time in bed all day, catching up on rest, and watching In The Soop and the new Run BTS episode.

What's the weather like today? Terrible. I never do well in the heat.

Do you ever use a laptop in bed? Yep but I put it on my lap or wedge it between my tummy and thighs while sitting up. I never directly place it on my bed since it heats up that way.

What were you doing in 2014? Crushing on and eventually asking out some girl. I was also starting to open up that year and was gaining more friends in school. Overall, a more than decent year; I don’t have any negative memories from that time.

Are you wearing socks right now? What colour are they? Nopes, I’m all barefoot.

What time are you taking this survey? 10:20 PM.

Have you ever eaten Caribbean food? I don’t think so, but as with all kinds of food I’m always open to trying it out should the chance come up.

Do you need to make any purchases soon, big or small? Just the remaining balance from all the merch I bought in the last two weeks. One thing I’ve picked up so far from collecting merch is that K-Pop merch is expensive as FUCK, so considering BTS’ core audience is on the younger side, most shops are super flexible and let people pay a downpayment first. Anyway, that said, I have several purchases I’ll have to fully settle by the end of the month.

What was the first movie you saw at the cinema? How old were you? Stuart Little 2; I was 4.

Do you feel hopeful for the future? Sure, but I don’t really dwell on it for too long because it would also just make me anxious. I like living in the now.

Where did you last fly to on a plane? Bicol.

If you were going on a daytime date tomorrow, what would you wear? Oversized tee + mom jeans + bucket hat, assuming the date is on the casual side.

Are your parents still together? If not, do you know why? Yes.

What is the COVID-19 vaccine roll-out like in your country? I’m from a third-world country, so you take a guess...light kidding aside, I hear of more and more people getting vaccinated everyday and that makes me glad, but the whole process has still been very slow. On my end, I don’t think I’m getting vaccinated until July or August, or potentially even later than that.

Have you ever been evicted? Why? My friends and I were once asked to leave a McDonald’s because they were being loud and rowdy playing a card game inside. We had it coming tbh; I just hated that I was dragged into it.

Would you say you're an organised person? When it comes to work, yeah. Not always with my room.

Have you ever worked as a manager or supervisor? I haven’t.

Do you eat at a table or on the couch? I usually eat at the dining table. But when I’m at work, since I can’t really ever leave my laptop, I have to contend with eating at my work desk even if it’s a little convenient.

Tell me something good about the last week of your life. Butter teasers!!!

When was the last time you heard a siren? What kind? A month ago maybe? when I heard the faint siren of an ambulance from somewhere far away.

Do you like jogging? No.

What brand is your TV? I don’t have my own TV in my room, but the ones we have everywhere else in the house are Samsung.

What was the last thing you voted for? Michelle had put up a poll on Twitter asking if people liked the apple chunks in apple pies crunchy or soft, and I’m guessing it’s because she’s planning to make her own recipe soon. I don’t entirely hate apple pies, so I still voted hahaha. I went for crunchy.

Do you remember much from high school? Sure. My memory’s not exceptionally crystal clear, but I’ve still been able to keep more than a handful of memories with me.

What's the longest you've ever stayed awake? Why did you do it? I’m not sure exactly but it has to be a little over 24 hours, and I probably did it just because I felt like staying up.

What's the most amazing animal you've ever seen in captivity? This is such a downer of a question...but idk. I find all animals fascinating, which is why I never like visiting zoos or animal parks.

Do you live in the state/province/territory you were born in? No, my family left Manila a few months after I was born, I believe.

What do you want to eat right now? Sushi sounds fucking fantastic, but alas it’s 2:36 AM and my best bet right now would be some cheap California maki from a convenience store.

Have you ever been wrongfully accused of something? Sure.

What are the five apps on your phone that you use most often? If I had to guess, probably Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, Messenger, and Safari.

What's one of the most useless things you've ever purchased? I haaaaate the idea of buying things I know in the first place would be useless. But related to this, the last purchase I kind of regret is my current phone charger cord. It cost nearly P500 but was already detective from the get-go :(

#survey #surveys

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scapegrace74-blog · 5 years

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Sabine

A/N This is my gift to CodenamePegasus (@Twitter) for the @xfilesfanficexchange. They made the very rash decision to give me carte blanche for my fic, and this is what I came up with. The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati post-ep/AU. Angst with a whipped topping of MSR. Rated G.

1. His lips tingle with the sensory echo of Scully’s fingertips, and the door closes softly behind her. It isn’t lost on Mulder that he has just effectively exchanged vows beneath the ersatz chuppah of his doorframe with the woman bringing him news of his ex-wife’s death. It makes a kind of twisted sense in its morbid symmetry.

He is moved, not so much by the words of devotion they exchanged, but by her tears. Scully is neither maudlin nor overwrought, but she wept for him, for the loss of another piece of his past. He’s a selfish man. He’ll continue to water the arid garden of his life with every drop she sheds on his behalf.

Sighing, he moves to the phone, knowing what needs to be done. There’s no need to look up the number.

“Hello, Mrs. Fowley. It’s Fox Mulder.” He takes off his Yankee’s cap and places it gently beside the receiver, no longer in the mood for celebration.

“Yes, it has been a while. I just heard about Diana - I’m deeply sorry for your loss.” The fishtank throws murky light, shadows ribboning languidly against the wall.

“Mrs. Fowley, I need to talk to her.”

2. The office lays under an oppressive hush, with the shuffling of paper and the scritch of Scully’s pen the only relief from awkward silence. It has been like this for several days, and she burns with the need to understand why. Granted, Mulder is still recovering from his involuntary brain surgery and the loss of Diana, but normally the kind of information she brought back from Africa would lift her partner out of any dark place. Instead, he seems… indifferent, maybe even slightly robotic. Shortly after 5 o’clock each afternoon, just as the light from the clerestory windows is growing dim, he rises, politely bids her goodnight, and leaves without a backwards glance.

Parking on Hegal Place is notoriously scarce, so she is sitting in her car down the block from Mulder’s apartment, trying to formulate a plan of action. For someone so verbose and extravagantly perceptive, Mulder is surprisingly reticent with self-disclosure. Even after six years, she still has to intuit the cause of his moods from circumstantial evidence, but that method is failing her now.

Before she can decide her next move, she sees him leaving his building, carrying a dark umbrella against the chill rain that has begun to fall. He approaches a parked car and bends towards the passenger window, obviously speaking with whomever is within. He straightens as the door swings open and a petite woman with long dark hair emerges. Is this what he looks like next to her - towering and solicitous? He carefully shelters the woman, one long arm hovering carefully near her shoulders. Scully stares at her lap until they have disappeared inside, unwilling to see what can’t be unseen. Her heart feels bruised. She drives home.

3. The drumbeat of heels animates the sterile basement corridor, and he rushes to finish his call.

“I’ve got to get back to work, okay sweetie? I’ll see you tonight. Uh-huh, to the stars, you know that. G’bye.”

He can tell she’s overheard at least part of his conversation by the tight mask of composure she wears as she settles deliberately into her chair, focus strained towards her monitor. Several minutes pass with only the staccato sound of her typing. He waits to see if she’ll ask. He wants her to ask, because it will spare him the obligation of divulging. He wants her to ask, because he wants her to feel that she possesses certain inalienable rights where he is concerned: to question the questioner, to test the tensile strength of the fascia that binds them.

Her eyes brim ocean-water that she refuses to blink away. In a war of emotional attrition, he knows he doesn’t stand a chance. He could lay siege to her heart and still go home empty-handed. Scully isn't about mastery. He's learned this the hard way.

“Scully, there’s… I need you to meet someone. Someone important to me. Can you come over to my place today after work?” She is shaking her head before he’s finished, chin lifted with resolute dignity.

“Scully… please?”

Her shoulders slump in defeat.

4. Mulder’s hallway has never seemed so long, not even after she’d announced her intention to leave the FBI, to leave him alone with the endless futility of his one-man crusade. As then, her heart beats with leaden precision high in her throat. What’s about to happen will change everything between them, and unlike the previous year she has no back-up plan. She’s placed all her bets on an outside chance, and now the house is folding.

Mulder is still dressed for work, his tie loose and jacket discarded somewhere. His apartment, which usually envelopes her like a worn sweater, feels foreign. She smells spaghetti sauce, and his television emits a quiet laugh-track in the background. It’s a domestic scene, but for once she stands outside the frame, a trespasser in someone else’s narrative.

Her partner is uneasy, that much is clear. His hair is in disarray, and as she watches he shifts from one foot to another. A familiar light of determined resolution settles on him, and he takes her cold hand with his own, drawing her forward towards her fate.

“Come inside, Scully.” She trails behind him towards his couch, where a pair of slight, pale shoulders divided by glossy brown curls can just be made out.

“Mulder, I don’t think…”, she balks.

“Scully, I want… let me…” he blows air past lips pursed in vexation. In this moment, his eloquence fails him. They are finally standing beside the couch, and as she gasps, Mulder finds words.

“This is Sabine. My daughter.”

5. Back in 1989 when he first learned that Diana, his on-again-off-again girlfriend, was pregnant, his first reaction had been to offer to pay for an abortion. His second had been to call the family lawyer. For a man obsessed with rebuilding his family from the ashes of his sister’s disappearance, he was resistant in the extreme to potential fatherhood.

Diana thought she could have it all: a demanding career, an evasive but passionate lover, and an all-American family. And for a time, she did, or a credible facsimile. He came around to the idea of becoming a parent slowly under Diana's careful manipulation. She slipped a blurry ultrasound picture into his briefcase, and he spent the better part of a flight to Atlanta looking for meaning in its abstract ovoids. At the second ultrasound, he was sitting beside the technician, listening to the rapid pulse of his redemption. By the time Sabine was born, they were married.

It lasted a little over a year. He never managed to forgive Diana (and by extension, Sabine) for luring his attention away from his newfound paranormal suitor. Shortly after he witnessed Sabine’s first steps across a slopping meadow in Rock Creek Park, they left for Europe. The divorce papers claimed spousal neglect, and he could hardly disagree. He signed over custody, paid enough child support that Diana’s mother quit her job and moved to Germany to become Sabine’s full-time caregiver, and witnessed their baby grow into a striking young girl via semi-annual photographs and an occasional phone call.

Now, here she sat - a long-limbed ten year old with Samantha’s hair, his indolent gaze, and her mother’s patrician cheekbones. A virtual stranger. An orphan. Another chance to prove that he was a worthy custodian of fragile things.

6. Scully’s first reaction should have been shock, or at least relief. It wasn’t. It was a conflagration of burning jealousy. At Diana, for being a mother and a wife. At Mulder, for welcoming his daughter into their nation of two. And at Sabine - lovely, blameless Sabine - for having a claim on her partner that she could never equal.

Their first meetings were stilted and short. Sabine barely recognized her father when he showed up at her grandmother’s the day after Diana’s funeral. She called him "Mr. Mulder" and he felt two feet tall. They are slowly piecing together a relationship, a few hours at a time.

Since that first introduction, Mulder has tried to include Scully in as many of their plans as possible. By his own admission, he knows next to nothing about adolescent girls, and he is obviously hoping his partner will serve as some kind of female buffer to his ineptitude. They’ve rented bikes and ridden through fallen leaves around the Tidal Basin. They’ve taken in the tigers and elephants at the National Zoo. With the weather turning cold, there are pizzas and candy and the entire Disney collection on VHS.

After a weekend visit to the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, they drop an exhausted Sabine off with her grandmother past nightfall. Christmas is the following week, and the street is alight with green and red bulbs. Mulder’s hand is moving to the ignition when she stills it with her own.

“What’s up, Scully?”

“Mulder, I’m thinking of asking for a transfer.” The words are out before she even realizes what she is going to say. He gapes at her, mute.

“Your priorities have shifted. You aren’t going to want to chase the truth with the same zeal, and I completely understand. Sabine needs you. But it’s not… I still have answers I need to find, and if we can’t look for them together, then maybe I should…”

“Scully, stop. Please. Did I give you the impression I was abandoning you? God, I could never…” He shakes his head with so much certainty, she begins to doubt her resolve.

“But, Mulder, you have other obligations now and…”

“The world could be ending tomorrow, Scully, and you’d still be my first priority. Yes, Sabine needs me. Yes, I’ve taken my foot off the gas at work, and if that’s left you feeling forsaken, then I’m truly sorry. But nothing, not the truth, not Sabine, none of it means anything without you. I thought you knew that. Sabine and Samantha, they are my blood… but, god, you’re my family, Scully. My fam-ily.”

His voice cracks, and she’s weeping openly with relief. His fingers clasp behind her neck and he draws her towards him, raining kisses and murmuring gratitude in her hair as flickering lights illuminate the dark around them.

7. Tomorrow is the dawn of the new millennium, no matter what Scully and the fiscal purists say. Watching Frank Black with his daughter makes him eager to get home to Washington. He's taking Sabine to the Air and Space Museum tomorrow, in what Scully teasingly claims is a boldface attempt to subvert her grounding influence, and what he calls father-daughter bonding and take-your-kid-to-work day. But first, with the threat of the Apocalypse curtailed, he has a little unfinished business to attend to. Six weeks ago he likened calling Scully his touchstone to a wedding vow, but he never got to kiss his bride.

She's watching Dick Clark as he approaches, his lame wing cradled tight against the butterflies in his belly. He's struck anew at how luminous she is, even under hospital fluorescents. He asks so much from her, and she demands so little in return. With Sabine's presence in their lives slowly becoming more normal, it's time to start clearing his debt. It's the work of many lifetimes, and he looks forward to never finishing.

As the apple drops, he leans into her, parting his mouth just enough to brush the sensitive flange of his inner lip against her. He feels the shocked intake of her breath against his cheek and certainty settles over him like a wool blanket. He's going to make this work, for all three of them.

#x-files #my writing #x-files fanfic gift exchange

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alpha-centari27 · 4 years

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SONIC THE HEDGEHOG Exclusive Interview With Star Lee Majdoub About Agent Stone And His Dream Superhero Role

We recently caught up with Sonic the Hedgehog star Lee Majdoub to discuss his breakout role as Dr. Robotnik's sidekick Agent Stone, while he also reveals which superhero he would love the chance to play...

Sonic the Hedgehog proved that the video game movie curse is officially dead as critics and fans alike loved it (you can read our review by clicking here). Throw in the fact that it was a box office hit, and it's fair to say that there's a lot of excitement surrounding the yet to be announced sequel.

After being made available EARLY on Digital platforms, the movie arrives on 4K Ultra HD, Blu-ray, and DVD on May 19th, and to celebrate its release, we recently had the opportunity to catch up with star Lee Madjoub. He plays Agent Stone in Sonic the Hedgehog, and has been hailed as the breakout star (the character, meanwhile, has gained a devoted fan following online).

As the straight man to Jim Carrey's villainous Dr. Robotnik, Madjoub was responsible for many of the funniest exchanges in the film, and made a lasting impact after past memorable roles in TV shows like Supernatural, Zoo, and The 100.

In this interview, we delve into the Robotnik/Stone relationship, his experiences working with Carrey, and even hear a compelling argument for why he could be the Marvel Universe's next Wolverine!

It was great to talk to Lee about Sonic the Hedgehog, and we obviously want to extend a huge thank you to him for taking the time to do this interview happen with everything going on in the world right now. Agent Stone is clearly a role he's passionate about and, after reading this, we're pretty sure you'll also want to see him don those familiar claws...

Were you a fan of the Sonic the Hedgehog games before being cast and what did it mean for you as an actor to join such an iconic franchise?

Yeah, I actually did play Sonic on the SEGA Genesis when I was a kid. It was probably my favourite game growing up, and the SEGA Genesis was the first console I got to call my own. It was extremely surreal to get cast in the movie itself, and then when I found out Jim Carrey was playing Robotnik, and I was gonna be playing his right-hand man, it took it to the next level for me. I also grew up loving Ace Ventura, The Mask, and, well, all of Jim's stuff!

You're very much the straight man to Robotnik, but how do you keep a straight face when Jim Carrey is reeling off lines like the one about how Stone makes his lattes?

It was a challenge to keep a straight face at times, for sure. What was lovely about that set was that everybody was so positive, and having a good time was really welcomed. If we broke or laughed, you didn't feel like you were doing anything wrong, thank goodness! There were a few times, and the scene I remember was when Robotnik sticks the quill to his tongue and electrocutes himself...and then turns to me and offers it to me! I had such a tough time keeping a straight face, so I had to figure out ways to change my facial expression or not quite look at Jim in the eyes in order to get that scene done.

Did you get the opportunity to do much in the way of improv on set?

I did. Fortunately, working with Jim, improv comes with it. The looser he gets, and the more he's figuring out Robotnik, the more permission I had to feed off of whatever he was doing. That was really welcome, and it was amazing to be able to say, 'Oh my gosh, I'm getting to improvise with Jim Carrey, one of the greatest at it.' Some of the stuff didn't work with Agent Stone, but we got to flesh it out and have a lot of fun, nonetheless. Sometimes in the movie, you didn't get to see the improv, but then some of the improv does actually make it in there!

Did you find playing an original character without ties to the video game series freeing as there weren't any specific expectations from fans?

I think it was a little bit of both, to be honest. In the cartoons, he's got Orbot and Snively in certain versions, and when you're playing someone that already exists, you have a little bit of something to feed off. You go, 'Okay, this is what the character is like, so I can take some hints there.' With Agent Stone, there's also the element of freedom where there's nothing pre-established so you could do whatever works within the realm of the story after discussions with Jeff Fowler, who was our amazing director, and the writers and Jim. It was definitely fun not to be tied into anything and feed off Jim, for sure, and then what was on the page for us, was all you ended up seeing in the movie. Stone was, I wouldn't say last minute, but through the last few drafts, Stone was written in to give Jim someone to talk to. He was the straight man in the movie, but through discussions with Jim and Jeff and Toby [Ascher], our fantastic producer, we were able to flesh out the story a bit and figure out the relationships, and it turned into what you see now.

I feel like it's fair to say that you were the movie's breakout star, but were you surprised by the reaction fans have had to Agent Stone?

Yeah, I never ever imagined Agent Stone would have this much backing from the fans. Even before the movie came out, you'd see him once in a trailer, but people started to really stick by him. A lot of fans were like, 'We are Agent Stone, and he is us.' We've all had to work with that boss who doesn't appreciate you, and you get hired for one reason, but all they want you to do is make coffee! It was really surprising and it's still very surreal. There's a lot of engagement, and a lot of fan-art out there that I'm so appreciative of and it blows me away every time I see a new art piece come out.

It seemed Robotnik hated everyone other than Stone, and he even finds a new Agent Stone on the mushroom planet, so I was wondering what you think it is that makes your character different to everyone else in Robotnik's life?

[Laughs] You know what, to me, I think Stone sees something in Robotnik that no one else does. There's this utter respect he has for Robotnik, and he lets him get away with a lot like the hand going into the mouth and the throat chop. Stone understands that this is Robotnik, and this is what he needs to do his thing. What I also love about Stone is that he judges Robotnik at times too, so I feel like there's a respect there, but I think Stone is unwavering and always there for him and it probably forces Robotnik to have to be okay with it.

Were you surprised to watch that mid-credits scene and see that Agent Stone had been replace with, well, a stone?

The day I wrapped on set was the day before I shot that scene. I was there when they were coming up with the ideas, and Jim was talking to them saying, 'What if he has another Agent Stone? Like a Wilson from Castaway?' It was so funny, and I saw them putting the moss beard on there. I laughed really hard. There's flattery there too as Robotnik needs Stone in some way, shape, or form in order to continue doing what he's doing. No matter how much he denies needing anybody, I think Robotnik kind of needs Stone there even though he's not willing to admit it.

Were there any scenes you shot which were particularly memorable for you that you didn't ultimately make the final cut?

Honestly, all of my major scenes made the cut. I'm so grateful for that. It's really hard to pick a favourite scene out of all that stuff as it was all with Jim, and there was always something to do and something memorable between the two characters in every scene we did. Even when he asks if I see anything on the screen and I'm like, 'Nothing at all,' and he responds with, 'That's right, it's because you weren't trained by the Native American shadow wolves!' Even in that moment, Agent Stone gives him this look, and there was always some fun to be had. Ultimately, I think the latte scene...the Austrian goat milk latte scene is my favourite just because that whole dance leads up to this one moment and it's the only time in this movie that Robotnik actually pays Stone a compliment even though it's berated and he yells at him.

You've spent some time in the Marvel Universe voicing Harry Osborn in the Absolute Carnage shorts, but would a live-action superhero movie role interest you, and do you have any characters in mind?

Ohh, that's a really good question! I grew up loving Wolverine. That's always been one of those childhood dreams of mine. If I get the chance...I don't know, there might be fan outcry or whatever, but you know, I'm a little bit hairy! I've got the bushy eyebrows! I'm Canadian! I qualify in certain ways. I'm shorter than Hugh Jackman! It's okay, we can pull it off...I'll put on the weight. I don't care! [Laughs] Wolverine, for sure. Ever since I was a child, I've wanted to play him. There are a few anime characters I've always wanted to play too if they were ever turned into live-action. There's an anime called Saint Seiya. Also, Venom. I love the anti-heroes for some reason growing up. As a kid I got picked on and I was never really in any groups and I never fit in, so I think the anti-heroes kind of had that little angry voice in me that I couldn't quite express.

Looking ahead to a possible Sonic the Hedgehog sequel, what would you like to see from Stone next if he gets to reunite with the new, unhinged Robotnik?

I would love a moment where we see why he's an actual agent. I feel like he could kick some butt. We haven't seen it yet, and I would love a moment with Robotnik as a damsel in distress and Stone shows up, saves Robotnik, and Robotnik won't admit that he's saved him!

You can find Lee on Twitter HERE, Instagram HERE, or Twitch HERE!

#sonic movie #agent stone #jimbotnik #dr robotnik #robotnik #lee majdoub interview #lee majdoub #I want to read fanfics about all the small or big ways Stone has rescued robotnik #like saving robotnik from getting burned by coffee #someone trying to poison #his food #someone infiltrating the government with the intention of taking #robotnik out #stone saving robotnik from his own self destructive tendencies

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vernonfielding · 5 years

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Life Writes Its Own Stories

Amy/Jake Newspaper AU, Chapter 2! (And at AO3.)

Amy’s family had not taken well to her announcement that she was leaving education to go into journalism. It wasn’t the leaving part that had bothered them – it was the ‘going into.’ Her family didn’t agree on much, but they were pretty united in their mistrust of the mainstream media.

Her dad had been a career cop with the NYPD, and three of her seven brothers had followed his footsteps. Her mom had been a full-time social activist, which didn’t pay as well as detective (as in, at all) but required the same level of commitment. Three of Amy’s brothers had taken after their mom and were now working for various human rights organizations in and around New York. Her youngest brother was the only other outlier, and he’d really gone rogue – he was a singer/actor/writer trying to make it onto Broadway. They’d all been gently indulgent of Amy’s decision to go into education, but when she’d shifted to journalism the fallout had been immediate and vehement, and come from all sides. Including David the singer/actor/writer, which seemed profoundly unfair.

Amy had been passionate about the news – and newspapers in particular – for as long as she could remember, but a career in journalism had seemed as outlandish to her as a child as David’s drive to go into entertainment. In a way, it had been his incremental successes that had given her the final push to follow her own dreams. That and the fact that she was sick to death of teaching 9- and 10-year-olds how to make sun collages and watercolor flowers. Kids were loud and messy (and also most of them sucked at art).

Of course, journalists were loud and messy too, Amy thought, as she leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head, peering about the newsroom. At the desk directly across from Amy’s, Gina was screaming at someone on the phone that no, she was not going to write an expose about toxic government immunization programs.

“Fucking anti-vaxxers,” Gina snapped as she slammed the phone back in the cradle.

On the far side of the newsroom, Charles was asking Terry if dog shit really smelled different from human shit, and if it was necessary to include that in Hitchcock’s story on street pooping. Hitchcock himself was watching a video turned up way too loud on his computer; it sounded like porn.

Amy loved her job.

“Santiago,” Terry called, yanking Amy out of her musings. Holt was the editor in chief of the Bulletin, but it was Terry who ran the metro desk, the heart of the newsroom.

“What’s up, boss?” Amy said, as Terry walked up to her desk.

“What’ve you got for me today?” He was staring down at a battered legal pad in his hands, on which Amy knew was written the stories everyone was working on and when they expected to have them done.

“Um.” She usually had three or four things to pitch him, but the past few days had been unusually slow and she’d already written three stories that had been on her evergreen list. She was perilously close to coming up dry for the first time since she’d started at the Bulletin.

“Look,” Terry said, planting his palms on her desk and leaning toward her, “we’re okay for tomorrow’s paper, but it would really help if you could come up with something good for the weekend.”

Amy knew that “it would really help” was about as close as Terry came to ordering a story, so she squared her shoulders and nodded. “Roger that.”

Terry frowned at her and narrowed his eyes. “You’re starting to sound like a cop,” he said. “It’s weird.”

Amy shrugged. “Hazard of the job, I guess?” She hadn’t told anyone that she came from a long line of NYPD cops. She worried Terry or Holt might pull her off the beat if they thought she was biased.

Terry just grunted and scratched a note, then called out “Hitchcock” and moved on.

Amy slumped in her chair. She’d dodged the daily bullet, but now she needed to come up with something really good for the weekend edition. She pulled up her evergreen list – stories that, in theory, could be written up and published any time because they had nothing to do with current events – but the ones left were boring or would take more than a few days to finish.

Amy set her chin in her hand and checked the NYPD Twitter feeds, and then the neighborhood blogs and even The Times local news website, but there was nothing going on. What she needed was a good tip, some murder or weird robbery or identify theft case she could expose.

She thought of Peralta. She’d actually tried looking him up, the day after her story was published, but she’d found almost no public records on him. A search of the NYPD staff database had provided his name, rank and current assignment to the 99th Precinct, but no photo. He wasn’t in the Bulletin archives at all, and he didn’t seem to have a Facebook account or any other social media presence. She wondered if he was normally an undercover cop, which would explain the low-key identity. Or else he just didn’t do very interesting work with the NYPD – but somehow Amy didn’t think that was the case.

Amy tapped a pen against her reporter’s notebook and wondered – not for the first time – why he’d picked her out of the crowd to tip off about the ex-boyfriend-slash-cop. And she wondered what other interesting stuff he might have hidden under those rolled-up sleeves.

At that thought, Amy groaned to herself and chuckled. Detective Peralta was cute and he’d given her a good tip, but that was hardly anything to be fantasizing about. Besides, he was a cop, and she’d had enough cops in her life to know that though there were some amazing ones – like her dad and two out of her three brothers – a lot of them were power hungry, egotistic, self-righteous and borderline corrupt. Just because Peralta had helped her out once didn’t make him one of the good guys.

She turned back to her computer and pulled up the NYPD Twitter feed again. She might have to write that feature on the new anti-graffiti task force after all, Amy thought with a sigh, and began taking notes.

+++

Jake stared at the board in the briefing room, trying to find the link between the string of pawn-shop robberies he and Rosa had been investigating for two weeks. They had pins marking spots all across Brooklyn, plus a few in Queens, and there was no obvious geographic connection. He sat down on the edge of a table and ran a hand through his hair. Beside him, Rosa sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her face.

“Maybe it’s not the same guy,” Rosa said, picking up their stack of reports again and flipping through the pages.

“Or girl,” Jake said, just to be a jerk. Rosa kicked him in the shin. He flashed her a grimace and rubbed his leg. “Look, it’s obviously one guy, or a couple working together. It’s the same MO every time: Break in just after midnight, take out a security guard, grab the cash on hand, and out the way they came in.”

“And they never show up on the security cameras, so they’ve obviously staked the place out.”

“Right.”

They both stared at the board some more. Jake let his eyes go a little crossed, like maybe if he skewed his vision he’d make some sense of the puzzle in front of them. He was reminded of those old “Magic Eye” pictures from when he was a kid. He’d always been good at finding the hidden image. He didn’t see anything now, but he could feel a subtle tickling in the back of his brain, a familiar itch that let him know he was missing some piece, and that he was close. If he could just relax, open his mind, he was sure he could figure this out.

“Peralta!” called a voice from the bullpen. Jake jolted out of his musings and jumped off the table to poke his head out. The Vulture’s assistant, Penny, waved at him. “Phone call. It’s at your desk.”

Jake turned back to Rosa and nodded toward his desk and she waved him off. The bullpen was a zoo – the Vulture was cackling wildly in his office, some dude was screaming at a prostitute in the holding cell, and for some reason there was a group of Boy Scouts crowded around the sergeant’s desk. All the noise was distracting, which was part of the reason he and Rosa had retreated to the briefing room.

He picked up his phone and said, loudly, “Peralta.”

“Detective Peralta?” came the voice on the other end.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Jake said. He pressed the phone into his ear.

“Oh, hi. It’s Amy Santiago. With the Brooklyn Bulletin?”

“Shit!” A spike of alarm shot down his back. Jake looked quickly around the bullpen to see if anyone was watching him.

“Excuse me?” Santiago said.

“Why are you calling me here?” Jake hissed.

“I’m sorry, I just called the main line-”

“I can’t talk to you on this phone.” Jake glanced toward the Vulture’s office; he was sprawled back in his chair, feet on his desk, laughing at something on his cell phone.

“Okay, sorry, I just had a quick-”

“Look, I’ll call you back. Is this the right number?” He read back the digits that showed on his phone and Santiago confirmed that was her number. “Okay, give me five minutes.”

Jake hung up without waiting for an answer and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly, then ducked back into the briefing room. “Hey, I’ve got to hit the head, I’ll be right back,” he said to Rosa, and left when she just waved him off again.

Jake took the stairs to the first floor and walked all the way down the block, toward the deli where he got lunch every other day. He leaned against the wall around the corner from the precinct and dialed the number he’d memorized.

“Amy Santiago-”

“I can’t believe you called me at the precinct!” he said, trying hard not to raise his voice. “Did you give anyone your name?”

“No,” Santiago said, quickly. “I just asked for you and they transferred me. No one knows anything.”

“Okay, good. That’s good.” Jake released a long breath.

“Seriously, I’m sorry for freaking you out,” Santiago said, and she did sound contrite. “I didn’t know how else to get in touch with you.”

“It’s fine,” Jake said. “But why were you trying to reach me anyway? And how did you even get my name?”

“Someone called your name at the press conference and I looked you up,” Santiago said. “As for why I called, I had a favor to ask.”

“Haven’t I done enough favors for you?” Jake huffed. “Nice story, by the way. Front page and everything.”

“Thanks,” Santiago said. “And yes, I appreciate the help. I promise, this one is not nearly as big of a deal. I’ve got the whole story already worked out, I just need you to confirm one little detail before I can publish.”

Jake closed his eyes, wishing he’d remembered to grab his sunglasses before darting outside. He really should end this conversation now, before things got complicated. Rosa would kill him if she knew he was out here even listening to a reporter. But he had to admit, he wanted to know what she was working on.

“I can’t promise I’ll help, but tell me what you’ve got.”

“Okay, here’s the story,” Santiago said, and Jake knew after half a sentence that he was screwed.

She’d somehow caught on to the fact that the deputy commissioner’s son had been tagging police vehicles with penises, and that he’d been caught multiple times and let go with no repercussions. She told him that her sources were solid but no one could confirm with absolute certainty that the kid was definitely the deputy commissioner’s son. He had the same name and was the right age, but there was the slimmest possibility that could be a coincidence, and Santiago said the story was too big to bet on coincidence.

Jake himself had barely dodged this particular nightmare a few weeks earlier, when the Vulture had demanded he drop his own case against the kid. Jake had been sorely tempted to arrest him anyway but Rosa had stepped in and told him it would be career suicide without his captain’s backing. It still bugged Jake that the brat had gotten away with it.

“Look,” he said to Santiago, “even if I had information that would help you, I couldn’t share it. The kid’s a minor. Those records are sealed up.”

“Ah, I thought you’d say that,” Santiago said. “Turns out Trevor Podolski is 18. About to be 19, actually.”

“What?” Jake yelled into the phone. “That little shit lied to me? On an official police report?”

“So you do know about this case!”.

Jake winced. “Fine, yes, I worked it for a few days. But seriously, I can’t help you with this one. It’s too risky.”

“Come on, Peralta,” Santiago said. “This is your chance to set things right.”

Jake groaned and bumped his head back against the wall.

“I mean it, I’ve got everything already.” Santiago’s voice took on a desperate edge. “I just need you to tell me the story is true. That the kid is the deputy commissioner’s son.”

Jake bit his lip, glanced up and down the street. A car was parked on the opposite corner. He recognized it immediately as an unmarked police vehicle because of the giant dick spray-painted on the driver’s side door.

“Detective?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’re still on the phone? Or yes-”

“Yes, your story’s right,” Jake said. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Thank you!”

Jake gave her a quick “Welcome” and ended the call. He glared at the penis car, then pushed back off the wall and headed back to the precinct.

When he returned to the briefing room, Rosa scowled at him and said, “Where were you? I checked the bathroom.”

“You went in the men’s room?” Jake said, then shook his head and walked up to the board. “Never mind. I solved the case. It was the guys who installed the security cameras.”

Rosa stared at him, then picked up their notes again and began flipping through them, a slow smile spreading over her face. “How’d you do that?”

Jake just shrugged, and ducked his head to hide a small smile. For all that Santiago had nearly given him a heart attack, Jake had to admit, talking to her had actually cleared his head.

+++

The next morning, Jake had just slung his bag onto his desk when the Vulture called him into his office. Pembroke had two tones when he yelled out his detectives’ names: impatient and furious. This tone was not impatient.

Rosa narrowed her eyes at Jake and he shrugged back in return before heading into the Vulture’s den. Or nest, Jake supposed. But “nest” didn’t sound nearly terrible enough.

“Wha’s up, Captain?” Jake said, tapping his knuckles on the Vulture’s open door.

Pembroke replied by holding up a copy of the Brooklyn Bulletin and shaking it so the pages rattled. Jake squinted at the front page and read the top headline out loud: “’Expose: Parking Fines Lining Police Pockets.’” Jake paused and scratched the back of his neck. “Ouch, there goes your retirement in Long Island. Sorry, sir.”

“Not that bullshit,” Pembroke cut in. “The other story, below it.”

Jake scanned down to the story in the lower left corner. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh! ’NYPD Official’s Son Is a Painter -- of Penises on Police Cars.’” The Vulture slapped the newspaper onto his desk. “What the fuck, Peralta.”

“Wait- what?” Jake stepped fully into the office, kicking the door shut behind him. “You think I had anything to do with this?”

Pembroke glowered at him. “You were the last guy to work that case, and you made it clear you were pissed about how it was handled, so yeah, I think you leaked it to the pretty reporter and probably got your dick sucked in return.”.

“Okay, first off,” Jake said, “that’s disgusting and super offensive. And second, no – I didn’t leak anything. I wouldn’t even know how to leak something like that. I don’t even know who-” he paused and made a show of lifting up the paper to peek at the name on the story, “Amy Santiago is.”

“She’s hot and she’s been busting our asses lately,” Pembroke said. “You really didn’t tip her off about the Podolski thing?”

“I swear, I had nothing to do with that.”

Pembroke eyed him warily and Jake just stood there, hands clasped behind his back, forcing his face to stay relaxed and give nothing away. Finally, Pembroke turned back to his desk. He flipped the newspaper into his trashcan – Jake was tempted to make a comment about recycling but now probably wasn’t the time – and said, “Fine, dismissed.”

Jake turned to go, then remembered he actually had a case he wanted to bring up.

“Uh, one more thing,” he said, plowing on even when Pembroke got that look on his face that meant their conversation had already gone on about five minutes longer than he’d prefer. “I got a text from a CI last night. He said there’s this new drug, some kind of fentanyl analog. They’re calling it Jazzy Pants-”

“No-go,” Pembroke said, cutting him off.

“Sir, with all due respect, if there’s another high-potency fentanyl on the street this could be a huge case.”

“I said drop it,” Pembroke said. “Anyway, the Seven-Eight has a task force. Let them handle it.”

“Oh, well, if the Seven-Eight has task force,” Jake said, not bothering to hide his scorn.

“Dismissed, Peralta.”

Jake walked out without another word.

+++

“You’re crazy, man,” Rosa said later that day, over lunch.

They’d gotten deli sandwiches to go and were eating them outside, sitting on the benches at the neighborhood playground. Kids were screeching and racing around the asphalt, climbing the wrong way up the slides and shoving each other on the swings. Normally Jake would be itching to go out and play with them – and honestly, sometimes he did; he figured it was good for police-community relations – but today he was on his phone. He was buying a digital subscription to the Bulletin.

“I know,” Jake said, mumbling around the credit card he’d stuck between his teeth. He plucked it out to type in the number and added, “But you have to admit, it was pretty great seeing that jerk kid’s mugshot in the paper.”

Jake had picked up his own copy of the Bulletin not long after leaving Pembroke’s office. Rosa had followed him outside and when she’d accused him of the same thing the Vulture had, Jake hadn’t bothered denying it, though he’d explained that he hadn’t been the original source. Rosa hadn’t seemed impressed by that detail.

“Yeah, it’s great that the kid is going to get in trouble for drawing dicks on cop cars, but is that really worth risking your career?” Rosa said. “Don’t be an idiot, Jake.”

Jake finished entering his credit card and personal information and hit “submit” on the subscription form. When the confirmation page came up, he tucked his phone back in his pants pocket and turned fully to Rosa.

“I’m not being an idiot,” he said. “So I helped her out a couple of times. It’s not like she’s putting my name in the paper or anything.”

“Not yet.” Rosa plucked a pickle out of her sandwich and flicked it into a nearby trash can. “What is it about her anyway? It isn’t like you to-” She paused, a frown of distaste twisting her lips. “Trust someone.”

Jake rolled his eyes and groaned. “I don’t trust her, Rosa.” She gave him a very dubious eyebrow lift. “Okay, I have on two occasions trusted her, but it’s not like I trust her as a person. You know I only trust three people-”

“Your mom, that weird friend whose name I always forget-”

“And you,” Jake finished.

Rosa gave him a thin smile that was part pity and part fondness. “I’m just worried that trusting this reporter is going to bite you in the ass later. It seems a little reckless, man.”

“Well, thank you for your concern, but I’m not reckless.”

Rosa sighed the way she did when Jake was being obtuse, and he slumped back on the bench. Because she had a point. Jake had come close to being burned before, almost a decade ago when he’d gotten drunk and mouthed off to a reporter from one of the tabloids. When Jake had called the reporter to beg him not to use his quotes or name him in the story, the reporter had refused. It was only dumb luck that the same reporter was arrested as part of a federal sex trafficking scheme the very next day, and was now in prison. Which reminded Jake -- he should probably check on Jimmy Brogan’s parole date.

He hadn’t been a fan of journalists since then. He wasn’t a regular news consumer, but he did pay attention when a case he was working on or familiar with got some coverage, so he knew the media bungled the facts almost as often as they got them right. Jake had seen a few cases actually mangled beyond repair by a reporter’s shoddy work. And even when the facts were technically right, they were missing context, or they were twisted in a way to make the NYPD look bad.

Jake wasn’t an NYPD apologist, and he didn’t expect cops to be fawned over by anyone, but he believed in the work they did and he knew most of his colleagues were good people who deserved fair treatment, at least. Journalists weren’t interested in fair, though.

“I’ll be careful,” Jake said.

“That implies you’re going to keep talking to Santiago.”

Jake balled up the paper his sandwich had been wrapped in and tossed it toward the trashcan. He missed.

“I won’t,” he said, and pushed up off the bench to throw out his garbage.

+++

Jake didn’t think much about Santiago or the Bulletin until later that night, when he got bored during an episode of Real Housewives of Dallas and started fidgeting with his phone. He pulled up the Bulletin app and searched for Santiago’s name, and the next thing he knew he was reading through all of her articles.

He had to admit: Her pieces seemed surprisingly balanced and accurate. He read a few where she hadn’t gotten the facts entirely right, but he knew that was a lot to ask when she was probably dealing with reluctant sources (cops) and people feeding her misinformation (everyone else). She was also a pretty good writer, from what he could tell.

And he’d meant what he’d said to Rosa – it had been nice to see justice served in two cases where he’d been unable to get the results he wanted on his own.

He knew Rosa was right to be concerned for him about making this a habit, and he promised himself that wouldn’t be an issue. He really didn’t trust people generally, and Santiago wasn’t just “people,” she was a journalist, which made her, well, if not necessarily an enemy, certainly not a friend.

Still, he reasoned it wouldn’t hurt to let Santiago know that he’d read her latest piece. He took out his phone and pulled up the number he’d dialed the day before, hoping it was her cell and not a land line. He opened a text message and wrote, “Front page again. Congrats.” He hit send.

Jake tossed the phone aside and turned back to the TV. The text alert chimed and Jake leaned over to look at the screen: “Thanks.”

A minute later another message popped up: “We make a good team.”

Jake stared at the screen for a moment before turning it off without replying. He wasn’t sure what to make of that text, but for some reason the words stuck with him for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER 3

#b99 #b99 fic #jake and amy au #peraltiago #newspaper au #life writes its own stories

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stroberikiwi · 5 years

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I Want It That Way (pt. 1)

Summary: It started with a karaoke battle and it ended with you waking up in the apartment of a cocky and popular guy. Now you need to fix the mess you made.

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Genre: comedy, angst

Warnings: language

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: English is not my first language so I apologize if there’s a typo.

——————————————————————

"Namjoon, I really don't want to do this"

"Too late! We are already here. Plus, I don't know how things are going to work between me and Stacy so if something goes wrong you will have to save me." replied Namjoon with a grin on his face.

You were not in the mood for a party. You would rather go to the movies or stay at home watching murder mysteries but Namjoon insisted. He has done crazy things in order to save your ass from being ridiculed so you couldn't say no this time. Entering the frat house was almost impossible. There were people dancing, making out, playing beer pong and doing shots. Just picture a zoo but instead of animals they are uncivilized college students.

“Namjoon I think I'm going to look for a place to sit down and scroll through my phone. Namjoon?" Namjoon was nowhere to be seen. He vanished into the crowd just like that without even saying "I'll call you" or "Good luck". That bastard!

You looked for a safe spot to sit down. Making fun of people was the least you could do. You walked or rather survived the crowd and sat in a tiny sofa next to a couple making out. Just when you picked your phone from your purse this guy with a tray of what looked like cake pops approached you.

"Here's a cake pop for a beautiful lady" the guy said. He handed you the cake pop and disappeared into the crowd. You examined it and smelled it. It looked like a normal cake pop so you took a bite of it and in less than 10 minutes you felt light-headed. The music suddenly stopped and the lights turned off.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE MOMENT YOU HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR! KARAOKEEEE TIMEEEEEE!"

That almost gave you a heart attack. Hoseok, aka the "Life of the party" came from nowhere with a microphone. A spotlight pointed at him as if he were hosting a show. People cheered and came closer until the room got smaller and smaller.

"You know the rules. If the spotlight chooses you, you need to sing. If you refuse you will be doomed by the chicken curse". His voice intensified at the end of the sentence and that made you laugh a little bit. That did not sound terrifying at all.

"What are they going to do? Ruin my credit score? Well guess what, it's already fucked up" you said to yourself with arms crossed.

"But if you say yes and you win you get five hundred dollars" said Hoseok with a cheerful voice.

The people went mad. Now that caught your attention. Five hundred dollars could be of great help considering your rent was due this week and you only had $27 dollars in your bank account.

"LET THE GAME BEGIN!!!" announced Hoseok with his arms open.

The spotlight started running in circles looking for the perfect competitor. Then it stopped. The crowd went wild. You could not see the person because there was a human giraffe in front of you. Some girls behind you started fangirling so you assumed it was a guy. Probably a popular guy.

"Well well well... Look who it is. Our precious jewel, our MVP, our man! KIM TAEHYUUUUUUUNG!!!"

You were pretty sure you lost 70 percent of your hearing because the girls behind you screeched as if they were getting killed. The game was settled. There was no way someone would win against him. He was handsome, popular and had good vocals. He was born for karaoke. Of course he accepted. He would do it just to embarrass the other competitor. It's not like he needed the money. His dad was the CEO of V Company, a company famous for owning the majority of TV networks in Korea. No wonder he appeared in so many K dramas as a kid. You were getting a little bit dizzy. Maybe it was better to call it a day and go home. You would text Namjoon when you get to your apartment. You went through a bunch of sweaty people and when you reached the front door a blinding light exposed you. Everybody looked at you. You knew exactly what this meant. Karaoke Time. People made space and you could see Taehyung at the end of the room looking you straight in the eye. Others looked at you as if you were some kind of alien. Some of them would laugh while others gave you the jealous look.

"Who's this new face?" Hoseok came to you with a bright smile. He gave you the microphone. Nerves started to take over and you shyly replied.

"Y/N"

"A round of applause for Y/N! I assume you are going to take the challenge. Is that correct?" Hoseok put his arm in your shoulder. It was a move that he would always do to make you think that he was your friend. The next day you would be non existent to him. You couldn't refuse to the possibility of winning five hundred dollars. Nothing would happen if you loose after all.

"Yes" you said.

Everyone cheered except Taehyung. He looked at you with a mocking behavior.

"Why is he looking at me like that? This is not the X factor" you thought to yourself.

"If you win what will you do with the money?" Hoseok asked.

"Pay my rent"

You regretted saying that so much but honesty ran you over and the damage was already done. Taehyung looked at you with a devilish smile and muttered something. The worst part is that Hoseok noticed.

"What did you say Tae?"

"I said she should start packing her things and move under a bridge because there's no way she is winning this."

This guy was insanely prideful but you also had your pride as well. You didn't consider yourself Celine Dion but you weren't a bad singer neither. This time if you won you would use $250 to pay your rent and the other half to shove it in his ass for being so full of himself.

They gave you microphones and a buzzer to randomly pick the song. Taehyung snatched it from Hoseok and hit it. It stopped at "I want it that way" by the Backstreet Boys.

"Oh boy! This guy probably listens to dubstep. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know this song." you thought to yourself confidently.

The lights turned off and the song started. A spotlight turned to Taehyung. He was really into this. You almost laughed.

"You are my fire, the one desire, believe when I say, I want it that way..."

Fuck. He had good vocals and didn't even glanced to the monitor. His voice was deep and sexy, and he definitely fitted the boy band type. Of course it was a standing ovation. Now it was your turn to make a fool of yourself. To be honest you just wanted it to be over. That "organic" cake pop was really kicking in. You should have rejected it. Now you needed to pay the consequences for being so naïve and accepting such a thing. After this you would go home and take a shower because you were sweating like pig. That was your only motivation so you closed your eyes and hit the buzzer.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait what? "Like a virgin" by Madonna? THIS IS MY SONG!" This was your golden chance to give it all. The diva inside you took place. You were not Y/N anymore. You were Madonna and you were hungry for fame.

"I made it through the wilderness, somehow I made it through, didn't know how lost I was until I found you."

You pointed to Taehyung. He looked surprised but at the same time he looked like he was enjoying the show.

"LIKE A VIRGIN TOUCHED FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME"

And that was it. You were not in your senses anymore. Madonna took over you for real. After that you didn't remember anything not even who won the competition. Now you were lying in a bed of a stranger looking at the ceiling. Thankfully you had your clothes on so that meant you didn't sleep with someone. You got up and investigated the room. There were no pictures, no wallet and your bag was gone. It was a luxurious apartment so the only evidence you had was that whoever was the owner of this apartment had money. Something interrupted your thoughts. Footsteps. You threw yourself in the bed and covered your body from head to toes. Think, think, think. What were you going to do now? Play dead?

"Wake up princess! There's a lot of explaining to do." said shirtless Taehyung after he uncovered the bed sheets briskly. Your heart sunk. He had a toothbrush in his mouth, damp hair, and a towel covering his lower body. Your heart sunk again. You had drool on your face, smelled terrible and you wanted to cry.

"Look, crying wont solve your problems but I will. Obviously, you need to pay a price for it after what you did yesterday"

What is he talking about?

"Don't you remember? You drugged me and made everyone believe that we were something."

"Woahhhh... Drugged you? Stop saying nonsense. I would never do that."

"So you don't believe me? Why don't you see for yourself? By the way who's Namjoon? He called you 57 times." He opened a dresser and threw your phone. The dresser! You did not check that. Your hands were trembling. He was right. Namjoon called 57 times. Not only that but you had a lot of twitter notifications and that's uncommon since you only have 43 followers. You started doubting yourself. Was he saying the truth?

"You should check your Twitter account." he said dryly. Something seemed off. Gaining 46,000 followers in less than 24 hours was something sketchy. You clicked on your profile and gasped loudly. There was a picture of the two of you kissing with the caption saying "Bae". It had 78,000 retweets. But there's more. There was a video of Taehyung resting on your lap while you played with his hair. That one got 123,000 retweets. So now what? You were already planning in your head the college where you would transfer. Maybe you would sell your phone and your precious book collection to buy a plane ticket. Forget all of that. Antarctica seemed like a better idea.

"You have two options. Option number one: I show the police the footage of you drugging me with that cake pop and then you face my father's fury with his 7 lawyers or..."

He smiled to the ground and then he turned to you with a straight face.

"Or we play along"

"Play along? What do you mean?"

"We make everybody think we are something and then I publicly break up with you in the most humiliating way. You thought you were going to get away with this easily? There's no way I would let people know that I was played by a moron like you. Never! Oh, I also checked your college transcript. You have excellent grades so that means you would have to make my homework as well."

"You logged into my college account and looked at my grades? What the hell!"

"Yeah"

"Something else my prince?" you said sarcastically.

"Don't get sassy with the person that will pay your rent for the next 4 months. That if you agree to everything."

That was a game changer. You really needed the money. Imagine paying rent, a lawsuit and a college tuition if you only have 27 dollars in your bank account. For a moment jail passed through your mind but you had goals in life. You wanted to be an editor but with a criminal record no company would accept you. There was only an option, an option that made you cringe and that will probably cost you your reputation for the rest of your life.

"Ok"

"What was that Y/N?"

"I said ok"

That was your final answer. The corners of his lips turned upward for a second and then he went back to his straight face.

"Good. Catch this."

This guy didn't have the delicacy of giving you the things instead of throwing them. This time he threw you a white envelope that looked bulky. When you saw what was inside your eyes opened widely. It was a fat stack of twenty dollar bills.

"What is this?" you asked.

"You won the karaoke battle last night. Another reason to feel bothered. Now stop asking questions and get ready. We are going shopping because your sense of style is terrible.

"Yes, Taehyung."

"Call me Tae from now on."

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love-takes-work · 6 years

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Rose Quartz and Pink Diamond Discussion

Lots of spoilers for “Can’t Go Back” and “A Single Pale Rose”!

I was never a strong "Rose Quartz = Pink Diamond" theorist. If you'd asked me before the reveal to declare a position, I would have said I did not believe Rose Quartz was secretly Pink Diamond, but I also would have said I did not believe it was impossible or improbable.

Ultimately, I thought we really did not have enough information about Pink Diamond to compare her with Rose Quartz, and most of the information we did have about her either came from Steven in altered states of consciousness or came from secondary sources that contradicted established content (mostly referring to Garnet's simplistic telling of the Rose Quartz story--which irritated me because I thought it did not make sense for Rose to have been made on Earth).

Mostly, though, I leaned toward thinking they were not the same person because of stuff the Crewniverse said outside the show.

My lengthy discussion of this topic is below. I outline past theories, review a few pieces of information that came from the Crew, identify common fan criticism that I don’t think is valid, identify common fan criticism that I DO think is valid, and share some lists about what the reveal has changed as well as what I still hope to see explained. Also, it has pictures.

Okay, see, I don't really do much theorizing because I prefer to base my understandings of plot on my understandings of character, and mystery for mystery's sake is not my bag. The closest thing I had to a theory about Pink Diamond's alleged shattering was that Rose may have used the mental transference Steven has demonstrated with Lars and the Watermelons to bring Pink Diamond into a compromising position where she could strike her. (If in fact she had that ability and it isn't just Steven's; that's also a possibility.) Now that we know this ability was not involved, I'd still really like to see that ability be important in some vital aspect of Rose's dealings, because it's accessed by dreaming and most Gems wouldn't think to try sleeping, so using an organic Earth practice to bring down mighty Gems seems like the kind of thing that would fit with the narrative of the show.

I thought the answer to the shattering mystery would turn out to be something like that because I pay attention to what the Crew says about their work, and Susan Egan once said in an interview that she was appalled by what Rose did--that she was still trying to swallow it. So I knew it was something morally indefensible on most levels and extremely questionable.

That brings me to this. I mostly take my cues for what I think will happen from how people act. Meaning both characters in the show and creators outside the show. Now, Ian Jones-Quartey has expressed that "Can't Go Back" and "A Single Pale Rose" are the culmination of one of their earliest plans, so according to him, they had always planned this.

But if I had had to create a list of evidence AGAINST Rose Quartz having been the same person as Pink Diamond, high on that list would be an old Twitter quote also from Ian, wherein he explicitly misled a fan who was questioning Rose's status.

I mean, he didn't straight up say Rose IS a Quartz, but the way he said it, he implied it was very silly to believe otherwise. This isn't just talking around it. He threw the fan off the trail, so from this, I see that intentional misdirection is always a possibility when they talk about the show.

Also, Matt Burnett once laughed dismissively at the concept of a Diamond being poofed, but we just saw it.

Now, though, I have to reconcile some of these other elements that don't quite fit right. Mostly, I'm just thinking of Rose's words in "Rose's Scabbard."

"Pearl." "Yes?" "I'm going to stay and fight for this planet. You don't have to do this with me." "But I want to!" "I know you do. Please, please understand. If we lose, we'll be killed. And if we win, we can never go home." "But why would I ever want to go home, if you're here?" "My Pearl."

This scene is portrayed by Pearl in an honest setting that looks like a replay of actual events--I don't believe it is edited for content by Pearl, because it came forth in such an authentic reveal of her pain. Looking at it now, knowing we're supposed to accept Pink Diamond is stating that she's going to stay and fight for the planet, you have to do a little bit of dancing around to get that to make sense. It sounded like it was the first time Rose was proposing rebelling, and Pearl was choosing her over Homeworld. But if Pink Diamond was already transforming into a Rose Quartz and pledging herself to the cause of fighting for the planet, you know her other attempts to save Earth had failed by now. I guess we'll need to know more about the actual process of Pink developing a rebel army in the first place before we know how much sense it ultimately makes.

The scene on the cliff LOOKS like it was Rose telling Pearl about the moment she decided to defect and save Earth, but it could have been after Pink Diamond's ruse to create a rebellion wasn't enough to get Blue and Yellow off her back about completing the colony on Earth. But if this was always meant to eventually make sense as Pink Diamond saying this to her Pearl, that means Pink and Pearl initially thought they'd be going back to Homeworld eventually, and that they wanted to spare the Earth without necessarily putting down roots there. I can basically rewrite the meaning of that scene with current knowledge and essentially get it to make sense, but emotionally it's hard to read right now--plus I don't really have a feel for when this conversation happened and why Pink Diamond would assume she'd be killed if they failed. It sure does explain why Pearl was kneeling to Rose like she was royalty, though.

I did start to think they were definitely moving toward presenting Rose as secretly Pink Diamond as soon as they showed us what Pink Diamond's Gem looked like. I knew a gemstone on its side like that could look like the face of Rose's Gem, and it did bug me for a couple reasons:

1. The shape didn't match what we'd been shown before in representations of Pink Diamond, though the shape of the Diamonds' Gems was always depicted really simplistically in their murals. I can excuse that due to the simplicity.

2. It brought to mind the shirt Surasshu was wearing in the soundtrack's promo videos, suggesting its design was not just a really weird choice for depiction of Steven's/Rose's Gem. It was a spoiler in plain sight.

When I saw that, I thought . . . if Rose is going to turn out to be Pink Diamond, this was a really trollish choice of clothing for a piece of media that will be seen by many fans. After all, we'd already seen Rose Quartz Gems in the Zoo, and we knew they were supposed to have identical hemispheres like Amethyst. "They wouldn't do that . . . would they??" I thought. They wouldn't straight-up show us the Gem they went out of their way to hide right there on a shirt, would they? Yeah. They did. Yikes.

So most of the reason I would have said Rose Quartz was unlikely to be Pink Diamond was based on interpretations of the Crew's behavior outside the show. The evidence within the show is at least usually not explicitly contradictory. (More on this later.) To review: Ian strongly implied that Rose WAS a Quartz because of her name. Matt laughed at the concept of a Diamond poofing. And especially, Surasshu wore a shirt that's so spoilery it seems in retrospect that it shouldn't have been released. We shouldn't have been allowed to see any official depictions of the back of that Gem.

Because, after all, Steven can't get poofed due to having an organic body. So that was a convenient way of us never getting to see the back of his Gem. The only other time we see the shape of Gems at all is when the characters are fusing or shapeshifting. Usually when Steven and Connie become Stevonnie or Steven and Amethyst become Smoky Quartz, there's some kind of reason why you don't see the actual fusing process very well, but you know what? Rainbow Quartz's fusion demonstration is unobstructed, and it seems like if Rose's Gem was actually pointed at the back, we should have been able to see it. We can't.

Gems do become really indistinct and circle-glowy in other Fusions, and I guess we don’t really have a way to know what it would have looked like if we could see the whole shape of the Gem, but why would it just glow on the very surface? The way the shape looks, it looks like it’s the same on both sides. I'll say more on this later, but this makes me wonder whether this is a) an accident; b) intentional misdirection; or c) a suggestion some of the writing did NOT take the actual identity of Rose Quartz into account in places where it probably should’ve.

And I want to say that intentional misdirection isn't really the same thing as a straight-up mystery. For instance, I dislike most of M. Night Shyamalan's movies because they mislead instead of tricking you by building on expected assumptions; they explicitly tell you something that's not true, through the narrative, not through the perspective of another character, and then when they pull the rug out from under you, they pat themselves on the back for hoodwinking you. But you can't put actual previous-century dates on a tombstone in an intro and then claim you just let us THINK it was set in the past. That's deliberate misdirection. That's not just tricking the audience; it's telling them the wrong information so you won't be able to find the right information. So in the case of Steven Universe, if you actually show us Rose's Gem during a fusion and indicate that it doesn’t have a pointed back, we will assume it doesn’t have a pointed back. We will not have the tools to assume it's actually a totally different shape but being obscured without explanation through an unprecedented process. It would have been much better to just sneakily not show us her Gem during fusion instead of showing us an image that would make us conclude it's round and symmetrical on the other side.

But before I pick this apart too much, I will say this: I don't mind if every detail of this plot point or any other revelation in this show wasn't planned since the start. Stories evolve and authors learn new things about their characters. It's part of writing, and it's not BAD writing when your initial plan shifts based on how you and your story change over time. Television writers don't have the privilege of composing their entire story in full before beginning production of the first episode, and we've certainly seen things in the first season that don't make sense given current lore (why does the Heaven Beetle have a tiny temple; what the heck was that smoke monster in "Together Breakfast," why is there a "moon goddess" reference in "Cheeseburger Backpack," why are Gemstones presented as so unbreakable with a SWORD if they can literally be broken by falling onto a rock or getting stepped on, etc.). I'm not defending or explaining away inconsistencies if I say I can accept that they happen in television writing. I don't know which category this reveal is in, and I realize there are also more pieces of information we don't have about Pink Diamond's decisions, but if it's not perfect or there are aspects that ultimately don't make sense, I just accept that the story and its tellers aren't perfect, and I still like the heart of what they're doing.

Things that do NOT read as inconsistencies to me:

The size of Pink's Gem vs. the size of Rose's Gem: Gemstones absolutely do change size in canon. It "shouldn't" make sense, because it's supposed to be the one part of their body that stays the same, but look at the size of Sardonyx's hand Gems vs. Garnet's; look at the size of that Pearl on her head. Amethyst's Gem appears different sizes when she shapeshifts, too. It got super small when she became a bird.

The color of Pink's Gem vs. the color of Rose's: We've seen Pink "for real" exactly never. Never. The flashbacks seem accurate enough, but if you look at how different Gemstones look in different light, it varies a lot. We have also been looking at a part of Pink's Gem that Rose doesn't show, at a different angle. It's okay with me if they deliberately put her in lighting situations where the color of the Gem would look really different. It's not different enough that I have a problem. I've seen Amethyst's Gem look yellow, you know? It doesn't bug me that the shades of pink don't quite match.

Pink Diamond shapeshifting to pose as Rose Quartz for extended periods before she staged her shattering: There seems to be a common misconception that Gems can't hold shapeshifting for a long time. That's literally never shown to be true in the show. The only statement about shapeshifting that refers to a time limit is when it involves "stretching yourself out." We've seen Amethyst say she can't hold her arms like that all day; we've seen Steven start to glitch when he made himself bigger; we've seen Amethyst's endurance give out while playing Jasper. Shapeshifting is detrimental when it forces your body to be bigger. It has not been shown to cause any problems at all if the Gem is getting smaller or rearranging their existing size. (That's also why I think Rose shouldn't have had trouble shapeshifting a womb for nine months.)

Pink Diamond reforming permanently in a Rose Quartz shape: There is no reason she shouldn't be able to do that. We have not been told it can't happen. Permanent forms are usually pretty similar to previous "natural" forms, but we have no evidence that drastically different permanent forms can't be chosen. The statement about Amethyst's weird lopsided form in "Reformed" being "not sustainable" (as stated by Garnet) could easily have been, again, about forcing her form to be larger than it naturally is, which requires resources she doesn't have and can't sustain long-term. I see no reason a Gem can't rearrange herself the way Pink did, especially since the main problem Gems seem to have with impersonating each other is color scheme (and Rose essentially shares a color palette with Pink).

The orientation of Pink's Gemstone being different from Rose's: I don't quite understand why some folks think Gems can't change the orientation of their Gem. We haven't seen anyone need a reason to do so before, but that doesn't mean it's impossible for them. Yes, the area of the body where a Gem's Gemstone resides doesn't change with different forms (though clearly during shapeshifting they can actually move it; Amethyst does so when she makes the weird amorphous shape she does to pose for Vidalia, and Garnet hid her Gems on her hands during "Secret Team"). But since the Crew has suggested the LOCATION of a Gem's Gemstone on their body says something about their personality, I believe where it is on their body is the important part. The positioning of the Gem at the fixed location on the body seems like it could be rotated if they wanted to, and since Pink is said to have MADE Rose Quartz Gems, perhaps she even did so with the plan already that she could impersonate one if she needed to.

Rainbow Quartz being a called a Quartz: Rainbow Quartz was part Diamond and part Pearl and therefore isn't a Quartz at all. That doesn't actually matter in Steven Universe. Garnet the gemstone is a silicate despite that both her components are corundum type. Opals are not part quartz. Many of the Fusions we've seen bear no resemblance (on a molecular level) to the Gemstones they come from. And once while answering a fan question, Rebecca Sugar claimed that Fusions have to "decide" their names. Rainbow Quartz can call herself whatever the heck she wants.

Smoky Quartz 1.0 not being able to tell she was part Diamond: The Steven/Amethyst Fusion known as Smoky Quartz demonstrated familiarity with an Amethyst memory that indicated Amethyst has fused with Rose Quartz before. And yet Amethyst couldn't tell from that interaction that Rose wasn't a Quartz. Some think that makes no sense, but I have no problem with it. The Sardonyx arc made it clear fused Gems don't have unrestricted access to their components' memories that transfers back to the components when unfused, and Pearl has now shown us an incredible capacity for compartmentalizing. Amethyst has no context for what fusing with another Quartz should feel like and has no reason to be suspicious.

Things that DO read as inconsistencies still:

Pink Diamond's size: Unless Diamonds grow, Pink punched a glass wall at a level that Stevonnie was able to easily reach. She's then shown to be much larger than Pearl. But since we've also seen hugely different variations in the sizes of other characters (Yellow Pearl in "Message Received" vs. Yellow Pearl in "That Will Be All"; the size of Smoky Quartz in Steven's kitchen, etc.), that doesn't seem like a problem particular to this issue. It's just there in the show in general.

Pink Diamond having a ridge around her Gem some times but not others: It definitely doesn't look like there's a rim there when she's walking around. But then it does look like she has one when Pearl is holding her.

The shape of Pink Diamond's Gem while shapeshifting: We really only see the front of it glow for some reason. This is related to my complaint above about why Rose's Gem shape did not look pointed at the back when we saw it glow during her Rainbow Quartz fusion, which just means the problem occurs consistently. I do not know why only the front of Pink's Gem would glow when it's being activated.

Rose's language talking to Pearl in "Rose's Scabbard": but perhaps it will be explained and put into context later.

Things I very much like seeing explained or given context by this reveal:

Pearl being bound to not reveal the truth is a somewhat sneaky, slick way to get around having her mention Rose's identity--and it helps explain why Pearl had such a violent reaction to not knowing Rose had a Lion--if you'd shared THAT much with someone over the years, it makes sense that you'd be baffled that she had secrets she didn't share.

Why Pearl said vague things like "When I served . . . Homeworld," and why she saw the Zoo herself.

Why Rose had so many powers; we don't really know the extent of Diamond abilities, and Rose seemed awfully overpowered for a plain old Quartz soldier (healing abilities, plant armies, floating, bubbling, shielding, super strength, reflecting energy with the shield, resurrection, PLUS if she also had the dreaming and possession abilities Steven has). It makes sense that Diamonds would be able to do more.

Rose Quartz was notably absent in the shadow presentation of Garnet's "Pink Diamond was a villain" speech in "Gemcation." Garnet's representations as presumably visualized by Steven can't be taken as canon obviously, but it's interesting.

Rose's consistent trait of finding humans amusing and novel blends well with how Pink is portrayed. Rose loves humans but she truly does not understand them, and doesn't appear to feel love for them the same way she seems to feel love for the idea of them. She's inspired by them and manages to make her enthusiasm sound authentic, but even with some of the presentations of Greg, she seemed to think of him more like a pet than a person. An inexperienced Diamond being given her first colony, then realizing the creatures she's going to kill with her invasion are so cool and funny, is something I could see working well narratively, for a character whose cruelty is mostly born of obliviousness.

Why Rose's shield could protect a small group of Gems from a Diamond attack.

Why Rose said it was a good thing that Greg didn't know her very well.

Why Pearl had a pink diamond on her spacesuit, of course.

Why Peridot assessed Pearl as being "fancy."

All those times Pearl covered her mouth when the context for talking about Pink Diamond popped up, which I assume goes back as far as her displaying that gesture in “Rose’s Scabbard.”

What we got undid the contradictory aspects of Garnet's story. I was really irritated that according to Garnet, Rose had been made on Earth and never saw Homeworld. It didn't fit--Rose had referred to Homeworld as home before and implied she'd been there; had expressed that Earth's creatures were so fascinating to her compared to what she was used to and that everything on Earth seemed fast to her; it didn't make sense for Pearl to claim Amethyst was the only good thing to come out of the Kindergarten if Rose was also made there (so that would imply Pearl wasn't told something Garnet was told); it didn't make sense for Rose to not comfort Amethyst with messages about being from the same place if that would have calmed her insecurity. Rose being made on Earth clashes with sentiments she's expressed. Even though the current story revelation also contradicts a couple things (or seems to), it makes far more sense than Garnet's story.

Why Stevonnie felt they recognized the Moon Base during "Jungle Moon," why Steven gets Diamond dreams in connection with places Pink Diamond has been, and why he says he felt such a strong connection.

It provides the answer to "And where was her Pearl?"

Pearls clearly are not necessarily made with their Gems in the same place as the Gems they serve.

Stuff I now really want to see addressed:

Steven's feelings about it.

What other layers exist in Rose’s backstory.

Whether Pink actually had a Crystal Gem rebellion going before she claimed to Blue and Yellow that she did.

How and where Diamonds are made.

What the Diamonds' "family" dynamic is.

Whether there is actually a hierarchy of who's officially in charge in the Diamond Authority (since Pink seems like she at least feels she has to answer and justify herself to Blue and Yellow, so you'd think the fourth unseen Diamond might have that relationship with them).

Why Pink Diamond was hanging out at the Moon Base on the Jungle Moon in that dream, and why Yellow Diamond seemed surprised she was "still there."

Whether Rose had the dreaming and possession abilities.

Whether Rose has ever fused with Garnet or whether she thought that might be risky.

How Rose found Amethyst and what version of the story she gave to her.

Similarly, what version of the story Bismuth had--she, like Garnet, seems to have believed Rose was made on Earth.

Whether Pink Diamond ever hung out with Rose Quartzes and what their voices actually sounded like.

Whether Pink Diamond felt any affection for the other Diamonds despite her perception that they did not care about her, and whether she objected to Bismuth's desire to take the war to Homeworld.

What Pink Diamond's relationship with Pearl was like at the beginning and how they became more than just Gem monarch and servant (though that troubling dynamic has remained throughout their relationship and has always complicated what their love is).

Whether the Diamond Authority has so much military force because they have enemies beyond random organics on worlds they're invading.

Whether Pink Diamond's Zoo was intended to preserve humans from the destruction of their planet, or to give other Gems the opportunity to see humans were worth saving, or for some other reason. (Garnet's assessment that the humans were "trophies of her conquest" seems inaccurate now.)

Whether Pink Diamond's ability to heal was unique among Diamonds. Eyeball saw healing powers as evidence of Rose Quartz's involvement, and Rose's armies being able to come back from being shattered was a tremendous advantage, so I'm thinking that was an uncommon power.

What did Rose do when she experimented on healing corrupted Gems? What did the failure look like?

The story of the Temple--since Amethyst came after the war but seems to be represented in the Temple's Fusion design, was the Temple built after she joined the team? Did this Fusion ever happen with our Amethyst? Or did they have another character with a chest Gem who used to be part of the Crystal Gems?

Whether Bismuth and Garnet are gonna form a "Rose Quartz was a Lying Liar who got all my friends murdered" club.

#steven universe #steven universe spoilers #su spoilers #a single pale rose #can't go back #rose quartz #pink diamond #pearl #su theories #su analysis #my su analysis #gif #myblog

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doberart · 6 years

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Walt Disney is undoubtably one of the most famous figures in modern history, which is most likely why about 90% of people on Tumblr and other websites (that I know of so far) think that he is an expy of Joey Drew. I understand that- both are entreprenurs who started their careers in the 1930s and went on to be famous lead animators. However, there’s something about this connection that doesn’t add up. Anyone who has read Walt’s reputation section on wikipedia would find that Walt’s percieved personality was nothing like Joey. He is instead described as shy, bashful, self-deprecating and embarrased in public. Now, I want you to be all honest here, does this look like an accurate description of Joey to you? Okay, admit it. If any of you said yes, you’re either being sarcastic or have never played the game before. Joey is the complete opposite of this description! Every audio log which ever mentioned him in any form whatsoever was pointing out every one of his personality flaws, from his obsession with the ink machine to his fixation on ‘appeasing the gods’ and immortality. But aside from their polar opposite personalities, there is one more point seperating Walt and Joey. I understand that there are a large proportion of people today who complain that all the film industeries care about today is making money. By this, they say things about cutting costs and making as many sequels to something as possible, without really going for a creative path for fear of losing money. I’ve seen critics accuse Disney studios of this before, but here’s where it gets interesting. When Walt was still around, he had a thing about style. I read a few articles about what it was like for his animators in the studio, it’s true that he had high expectations but he also really cared about style. Cool fact- when the first colour film they ever produced, Snow White, was still in production, Walt was so determined to make sure that the movement of the animals was realistic that he brought in a bunch of deer and things into the studio so that his animators could learn realistic movement. Years later, the guys who made Jurassic Park took a trip to the zoo to study giraffes and elephants to make the most realistic CGI dinosaurs. Walt was certainly ahead of his time. Now, think about what Thomas talked about from his tape from chapter 3. He was complaining about the elevator, right? What else? He mentioned that Joey *kept cutting corners*. Walt does not cut corners. Walt made sure the company never cut corners. Joey isn’t really doing this for the sake of creativity, he’s trying to leach out as much money from it as he can. What other evidence? Any of you who have been following the lore closely and keeping up to date with merchandise announcements may be familiar with the Hot Topic takeover, when clothing was arriving in the shops. One event made this special- for about an hour before the merchandise went online, Hot Topic twitter went and roleplayed as Sammy Lawrence, answering the questions of fans and raising quite a few more in the process. At one point, a fan asked Sammy where he speculated Joey had gone. Sammy’s reply was that Joey was most likely ‘raising his salary’. This can be taken as an indication that Joey was a greedy individual who had a constant want for profit. As I have stated before, this is not like Walt at all.

Most of you are probably wondering- “If he’s not Walt, then who is he? Walt’s the only guy we know!” Now, what if I told you that there’s someone else who fits the description of Joey Drew perfectly? Minus the ink machine, sacrifices and satanic stuff, and you’ll find yourself with an almost perfect match with another, lesser known person. His name is… …Charles Mintz! I’ll give credit to yunisverse here, had I never read her(?) post I would have never even heard of him. Yuni was so ticked off at Charles that she actually dug out her old lecture notes just so that she could go off on a rant on what a terrible person he was, Jim Sterling style. Disclaimer: The following recount is what I’ve gathered from several sources, but I think what Yuni wrote is probably more accurate. Walt’s first ever animated series was a thing called the Alice Comedies, but Charles wasn’t happy with how much money it made so he told them to scrap the show’s budget and do a bunch of really expensive stuff to it so that they could get more money from it. Problem- Walt and his brother Roy were working on the lowest of budgets and couldn’t afford to make those changes. The result was that they had to work a lot harder for less pay- the series was increasing in popularity which was the only real reason Walt was still working for him. Eventually they moved into an actual building, but Charles’ demands for better quality pictures and more money meant that eventually they started to lose money for every film they produced. As a result, Walt and his studio had to start from scratch. This was the time when Walt developed a character, Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. Charles was annoyed that Walt was still going at it, but once the films got started it became a big success. Walt’s company decided to keep on going at it, and they got some pretty good ratings. Don’t ask me what Charles was thinking, but this was the time when his evil buisnessman side took over. Charles saw how popular Oswald had become, so he pretty much went like 'That’s a nice character, MINE!’ and then he literally fired Walt and stole the rights to make cartoons from him.

So, yeah, that’s the story of Charles the evil buisnessman. After I read through this, I suddenly felt that Walt actually had a part to play in Bendy’s universe after all. Expect that his side of the story didn’t turn out as great. Remember that description of his personality I wrote above? I’m pretty sure you can all think of a very certain Player Character who fits that description and has had similar events happen to his pre-game. Henry. He doesn’t talk much during the game at all, especially when faced with monsters and things. Matches up with how shy Walt was in public places. We even get a hint at the degree of involvement back when he worked in the studio, in chapter 3 when he talks about a 'new character’ that he believes that people are going to love. Also, Walt was known for basing his cartoons off himself. Now people are going to tell me: “Walt was the really successful buisnessman! Henry doesn’t seem to be well known at all! What happened?” Bit of history for you- after Walt was fired there was literally only one person who was supporting him. That was his best friend, Ub Iwerks, seeing as Charles forced all the other animators from Walt’s company to work for him instead. Ub is literally the only thing that stopped Disney Studios from dying. Walt called him 'the greatest animator in the world’ once, and for good reason. Ub drew the entire ’Plane Crazy’ episode in the matter of two weeks- ALL BY HIMSELF. I did a double take when I read that. I mean, he had to draw 700 frames each day to do that! EVERYTHING!! I’ve only animated once in my life, it took two months to finish my assignment and it was half the time of that episode, with two cats and no background. How he managed it I had no idea. If only Ub were alive today- imagine what would happen if he got his hands on a drawing pad and an animating program… It’s thanks to Ub that the entire company existed, but from what I can tell from our limited experience with Bendy’s universe, Henry didn’t go off to fame and fortune after Joey’s studio shut down. Chances are, while Ub existed in ours, there wasn’t any expy of him in Bendy’s. We don’t know what happened to Henry during the time he left the studio, but it didn’t seem like anything special happened to him.

So, that’s it for now. I’d suggest that you take this theory with a grain of salt, seeing as I’m not the one behind BATIM, but if anything happens in chapter 4 that supports this, maybe we can look into it further! Later on I might reblog this to add on stuff, but this is my theory for now. Also, Dober, I’m so sorry that this was pushed back 9 hours. This will never happen again, I hope it’s good enough. T.T Homework now…

#a very interesting comparison indeed #bendy and the ink machine #it must have been something serious enough to make henry leave #or he just got really tired of working with joey #lol #submissions #theoscout #submission #long post

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elfnerdherder · 6 years

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Ill Intentions: Chapter 15

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Chapter 15: Plot Twists

The next morning, Will Graham crept into his house after remembering to tip his Uber driver. Molly’s bed was only a full, but it fit them both just fine. He didn’t wake up sweating and shouting. The meat with the suspicious dates sat wrapped in a grocery bag in her freezer, a testament to how easily she accepted him back into her life.

A new Samsung charger for his watch wasn’t cheap, but that was alright. He had enough money for a charger, although he’d have to find a new wristband soon. Although he hadn’t had to rip it off, it had just barely managed to remain unscathed, and he could almost feel the Ripper’s skin pressed to the plastic –surely if he wore the same band, he’d become something like the same person? Could the two become one if they tried hard enough?

The white van was parked in the alley just across from him, and Will avoided looking at it as he walked up the stairs and hesitated by the door. His key got stuck in the lock; he jiggled it and wondered if he was walking into a trap, if he’d overestimated his ability to read the Ripper’s intentions as they shared such close proximity and whispered dark things that –

Will Graham paused in his doorway and stared at an immaculately clean apartment.

No body occupied chairs that sat evenly spaced around his shabby dining room table. The decimated remains of a kitchen had been rebuilt, nary a toaster cord out of place. There was a distinct scent of lavender wax burning in a Scentsy that Will Graham most certainly didn’t own, and centered just-so on his table, a letter rested.

Dear Will,

You handle victory and loss much the same; how many challenges are going to be thrown your way before you’re declared the winner, you wonder? Surely there is an end to this chase?

Your readers can hardly stand themselves, can’t they? This is the most exhilarating thing that’s happened to them as much as it’s the most fun you’ve ever been able to enjoy. How would they feel to know you don’t really care about them; what would they say if they could see that it’s the hunt that excites you, not their adoration? Would their twitter tags fade; would their admiration turn to censure? How soon until you become what they most hate as opposed to me?

On wind I sit,

My voice the melody you sing,

Such shiny things I take and keep,

my secrets I hide well.

I am both as tall as trees

or as small as fists,

My grip punctures;

I lay draped in radiant hues.

What am I?

You have 3 days.

-Avid Fan

Will wandered the apartment, letter gripped tightly in hand. A bird, it meant. A bird, and birds ate fish. Was the Ripper the fisherman, here, or was Will? He went to his dresser where every sock had been set with care, and Will wasn’t at all surprised to see that the knife he’d used to gut the man in the alleyway so long ago wasn’t there. He pressed the embroidered letters on the handkerchief to his lips and exhaled slowly against it as he stared.

In its place, Will’s calling card had been left.

I wonder where you keep your secrets, he’d asked the Ripper. Or Hannibal Lecter.

Both; surely both? This confirmed it. Unless the Ripper merely followed him there to observe. Unless this was all just a wild goose chase, and Will was going to find himself behind bars for breaking and entering into an innocent man’s house.

Will crumpled the paper up and tucked it into his pocket. On his wrist, his watch beeped with victory.

“You found your watch,” Abigail observed.

She looked much the same, standing across from Will at the Subway in which she worked. Her visor was cheerful, her nametag sat perfectly straight, and she wore a small choker underneath the collared shirt. There was no scent of cigarettes on her breath or uncertainty in her stance. She could have been a seasoned worker, if Will didn’t know better. Everything smelled like mayonnaise and vinaigrette with a hint of burnt bread. Will inhaled the taste of it and coughed. He hated Subway. You could get an almost-authentic pulled pork sandwich just down the road that reminded him of Louisiana seasonings and hot summer days when he was just desperate enough, and it was half of the price.

“How’d you know I lost a watch?”

“Beverly mentioned it.” Abigail accepted his card and slid it through the reader, passing it back with an unnecessarily long receipt. “She said you were a pain in the ass for it.”

Will took the Subway to-go bag and scowled. “They let you cuss here?”

Abigail took a long, exaggerated look around the empty fast-food joint, then cocked her head to the side and smiled toothily. “I can tell you’re happy about it. You keep looking at it every minute or so. Someone dead give it to you?”

“It’s an expensive watch,” he groused. Then, “Did Freddie Lounds talk to you?”

“No, but I got your text.”

Will wasn’t sure why, but her lack of reassurance didn’t do anything to settle the nervous jumping in his gut. Charlie thought he was doing footwork for Will Intentions. Beverly thought he was taking the day off. Freddie knew damn well he was hiding something, but he’d used Todd from Marketing to fend her off before he made a quick getaway. He’d found himself here before he knew why. Less than three days. He needed to get to work.

“She won’t pay you,” he said lamely.

Abigail didn’t seem bothered by the statement. Instead, her eyes roved over his collared shirt and coat, as though she could see every wrinkle and random thread come loose.

“What happened to your neck?” she asked.

“Cut it shaving.”

She met his gaze, and he stared back unabashedly. “That’s a big cut for shaving,” she said.

“I’m not good at it.”

“No doubt,” she agreed, “since you didn’t seem to get any hair, just a chunk of skin. They’ve got Youtube channels for that, you know.”

“A lesson for next time,” he replied. Ridiculously expensive twelve-inch sub in one hand and a cup of water in the other, he headed towards the exit but stopped with his shoulder into the door, a random thought striking him. “Agent Crawford knows you’re here. He asked about you.”

It was then that her carefully constructed mask slipped, and Will was able to see the edges of the real Abigail beneath. First, it was the fear; that was easily seen, and it hit him like a waft of pungent perfume. Then, there was suspicion; it was something that lurked in the way her mouth tightened and her shoulders turned in.

She wasn’t quite able to return to the perfect veneer of calm from before as she asked, “What’d he want?”

Will shrugged and took a sip of water. Four waters so far into the day. He’d even remembered to mark it on his watch. “Wondered about you. Asked me to get a read on you.”

“What’s the read?” she asked –demanded.

“He’s not taking you in for questioning,” Will assured her. “But if you start cropping up in the spotlight, doing interviews and spouting off about things, he might. You put a target on your back leaving home to come find me here.”

“No one leaves home unless there’s no home to leave behind,” Abigail spat back, “but thanks for the tip.”

She was right, wasn’t she? Freddie said she lost the house to the grieving families, the checking cleared out as a meager restitution for their suffering. He didn’t know how to say it, though; how could he truly convey that he knew, he knew what she’d lost and what she’d done to get to him? That he could feel her defenses and knew why she was sharp and cruel; how else was she to survive with a father like that? There was no home because her father had razed it to the ground around them and left her to sweet up the ashes. Much like Garrett Jacob Hobbs, Will left her with the stench of too much salt in the sauce intermingling with a perpetually running air conditioner, and he marked the first stop on his phone. He had a lot of work to do.

There were seven bird sanctuaries in the general DC area, the Washington, DC Zoo, and too many pet shops to count. Will visited all of the bird sanctuaries in the first day, the pet stores in the second, and by the third day he found himself touring through the Zoo with an ‘all access’ pass and an overly expensive pizza slice. It wasn’t barren, but he was one of maybe nine that meandered the walkways throughout the zoo, making his way to where the birds sat chirping, fluffing feathers, and being a general nuisance as they fought to be heard over one another. He traced over their beady eyes and gaping maws, and he wondered what he’d have written onto paper to convey their depth of rippling sunset hues, how their voices both clashed yet blended into a loud and raucous melody. His fingers tapped in beat on the side of his trousers. Maybe this would be written into the article, should the need arise for what Freddie referred to as ‘good filler”. Journalist Will Graham Spends an Extensive Amount of Money on Pizza to Catch Bad Guy.

“Will Graham?”

Will tensed without meaning to, and he managed a grimacing smile as he turned to shake hands with who he too-late recognized to be Tobias Budge from the gala. A good friend of another one of his ‘avid fans’. The one with the knowing smile.

“Mr. Budge,” he greeted. A brisk wind passed between them, chilling. The freezing, drizzling rain threatened to turn to ice, but only just. His fingers were stiff.

“I wasn’t aware that a journalist could find inspiration for murder in a Zoo of all places,” Tobias said with a short laugh.

“Writers find inspiration in all things,” Will replied. “What brings you here?”

“As a musician, I too find inspiration in all things,” said Tobias, and he gestured. “After all, wasn’t it Mozart that found the music of the birds as an inspiration to some of his most successful pieces?”

Will’s fingers stopped drumming to the tune the birds sang for him. Something itched, but he didn’t know where to reach to scratch.

“You’re a musician?”

“Well, a violin instructor and shop owner in Baltimore,” Tobias reiterated with a warm laugh. It felt too rich a sound for the modest correction. “I string my own violins.”

“How do you do it?” Will asked. The birds squawked, sharp and reminding; you’re looking for a body, Will. These niceties won’t help you do that.

“Well, it’s far easier to show you than to tell you, so if you come by the shop one day, I’ll show you.”

“I don’t get to Baltimore much.”

“Just for the occasional gala attendance?”

And the occasional, tense exchange between myself and a psychopath. “Yeah.”

“Well, even if it’s not for my shop, you should find the time. Baltimore has a lot to offer tourists.”

Will hummed in agreement and looked down the rows of birds in large, spacious cages, each one more vibrant than the last. Where would there be a body hiding in the zoo?

“I’m sorry, you were looking around, weren’t you?” Tobias asked.

Will’s laugh sounded more like relief. “Yes, I’m here for the birds.”

“The birds,” Tobias mused. “Do you mind if I trail along? This is my last stop before I head home.”

Will minded very much, but he wasn’t sure how to say it. Could he program the watch to remind him to practice tact a little more often? Could someone time that?

“Only if you know a little more information about birds than I do,” he managed, and it was the wrong thing to say. Tobias fell in step beside him and kept pace as Will stared at the birds. There wasn’t a zookeeper in sight, no surly teenage employee handing out fliers with maps to new attractions. He wondered where he could pry Tobias off of him and leave him behind. Whereas before he’d been a mild aid in keeping his friend from bowling Will over –what was his name? Francis? Frank? –now he was the problem, walking too close and smelling of dusty books and cold weather.

“I sadly don’t know much about birds apart from your basics,” Tobias said regretfully. “Crows remember everything, Ravens make good voice impressions, and Magpies take shiny things and hide them.”

“They do what?” Will asked, pausing beside the Magpie exhibit. The bird, huddled in a fluffed mass in the back, paused and considered them, head tilted.

“The Magpies?”

“They take shiny things and hide them,” Will murmured, and he reached into his pocket, fumbling for some spare change. When he found a quarter, he pulled it out and shined it against his coat, eyes on the bird as it hopped about on a branch, watching them. Its feathers ruffled into the cold misting rain.

“I’m not sure if you’re supposed to do that,” Tobias said, but it was a lost statement, something far away and echoing too faintly to catch.

Will stood just on the ledge of the cage and held his hand out, offering the quarter. No zookeeper nearby. No zookeeper, but there was a melody of birds and a magpie.

My voice the melody you sing, Such shiny things I take and keep, my secrets I hide well.

“Mr. Graham –”

“Investigative journalism, Mr. Budge,” Will murmured, and when the magpie flew over to him, his heart stuttered. Its claws clung to the chicken wire that kept it captive, and as its beak clacked, wanting, Will smiled.

“Hello, Mr. Graham,” the bird greeted kindly, in the garbled sort of voice that all birds have. Throaty. Mocking.

Will was over the small guard rail and rushing between the cages before he had enough time to consider his actions, before he could truly recall Mr. Budge’s feeble attempt at warning him.

The door to the employee walkway was unlocked and mildly ajar; Will stepped into the humid and enclosed space with the same trepidation that he would stepping into a lion’s den. The birds still sang, and he palmed the quarter indecisively, looking about. Where the front of the enclosures were bright and engaging to meet the needs of their inhabitants, the back of the enclosures were grey and cement-walled. He dragged a palm along the damp grey, and once he reached the entrance to the magpie’s enclosure, he grasped the handle, unsurprised to feel it turn with ease.

Just inside was much of the same grey walls, although they’d thought to add perches, hiding holes, and a few plants for the magpie to tuck himself into. The opening that gave the birds freedom to move between the social part of their enclosure and the private part was open rather than shut; normally they were closed during open hours to ensure that the birds couldn't hide from the public.

Will opened it, his pulse pushing through his neck with a burning sensation in his veins.

The magpie knew; he was inside of the back of the enclosure within just a few seconds, his knowing stare so much worse off because how was it that of all the things to see, all the people to see, he knew exactly which one was Will Graham?

“Where are they?” he asked breathlessly.

“Hello, Mr. Graham.”

“Where?” he demanded, a little more firmly.

The magpie tilted his head, and he clacked his beak.

In response, Will lifted the quarter, and he scowled back.

“Please?” the bird asked.

“Please,” Will agreed.

The magpie flew to the small supply closet, and it took only a few curses and a conveniently nearby hammer before Will was breaking the lock off of it just in time to catch the dead body that dropped from the roof of the enclosure in order to land on top of him.

“Hello, Mr. Graham!” the Magpie shrieked.

He was waiting with Tobias Budge at the back of an ambulance.

Will wouldn’t say that he enjoyed waiting with Tobias Budge at the back of the ambulance, but since he’d hit his head on the concrete and blacked out for seven seconds, the medic wasn’t letting him leave anytime soon. Jack Crawford will want to know you’re okay, he’d said. He has all information from the local police routed over to them. He’ll know you’ve been hurt.

His watch beeped; it’d been almost an hour since he’d last taken a step.

The Magpie in the enclosure wasn’t the Magpie that the Zoo had ‘borrowed’ from the Atlanta Zoo for a series in birds. Will had already texted to inform Beverly and Freddie of the drama that was sure to unfold at the Atlanta Zoo demanding their bird back, but he was mostly concerned about what would happen to the Magpie that’d been left behind, the one trained to say his name.

“He will probably be taken to the FBI,” the first officer on the scene had said.

“Evidence and all if the Chesapeake Ripper owned him,” her partner had added.

Evidence and all. Will had come to just in time for Tobias to almost drop him with a startled shout as he tried to free him from the grotesque corpse whose stench had left a couple of cops gagging up their lunch.

“Is this common for journalists, or is this just our lucky day?” Tobias asked. Blood was streaked along the starched white collar underneath his shock blanket, and there was still some on his neck. Rancid blood from the veins of a dead man. Will wanted to bathe until he scrubbed his skin off.

“Comes with the territory,” he said.

“Sounds like a stressful job,” said Tobias. He huddled further into his shock blanket, and the flash of red disappeared. “Was it like that before you started this column?”

“Mostly it was forcing myself to eat a lot of fondant and pretend to be excited about interviewing Great Uncles from the war,” Will replied. “I can’t say which one I prefer more.”

Tobias’ smile was pleasant. “First the Chesapeake Ripper, then the Maestro –you’ve got your hands full.”

“I’m not worried about the Maestro,” Will replied automatically, but he instantly regretted it. Tobias’ laugh was too loud against his ear, and he leaned away from it instinctively.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard someone say that about a serial killer,” he said.

Will shrugged and looked down to his feet that hung off of the ambulance. His left foot swung in time with the flashing blue lights on the cop car. “I guess he just doesn’t have the same…tone.”

“How so?”

That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? Will dreamt of the stiffened bodies the Maestro had left behind, yet standing before them he could only focus on the Ripper and how close he pressed his mouth to Will’s ear, whispering wicked things. His watch vibrated again, and he dismissed the shoe notification whose laces trailed into a lazy ‘Zzz…’ He’d have to work harder on his step goal tomorrow.

“He wants me to want it the way he does,” Will said at last, when he could find the words. “It’s off, it’s…showy. Not clever. I’m a journalist, not a psychopath with an obsession with music or complex anatomical modifications.”

“Yet here you are, breaking into Zoo enclosures,” Tobias said with a laugh.

“Here I am,” Will agreed glumly.

“How do you know that he wants you to want it the way that he does? How do you know it’s a he?” At Will’s perplexed expression, he continued, “I’m sorry, am I asking too much? I could always wait for your column to come out.”

“He won’t be in the column.” Will looked back to his swinging shoe. The silence after left him wanting. “It’s showy, isn’t it?”

“Him putting it on your doorstep, you mean.”

“Yeah, that.” Doorsteps. First work, then home. He’d be hiding them underneath Will’s normal seat on the bus if he wasn’t careful. “He very obviously wants to be in the column, and I’m not one for entertaining things like that.”

“The Chesapeake Ripper gets that sort of entertainment though.”

Will hummed non-committedly. How could he, with all of his vast limitations in speech, even begin to explain how very wrong that sort of estimation was? That the Ripper gave zero fucks about the column, how that was just the conduit in which they first communicated, how it was through that and that alone that Will first began to wake up?

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

“Do you think he’s going to escalate his crimes if you don’t give him the attention he’s seeking?” Tobias pressed.

“It’s not my fault if he does.”

“Isn’t it? If he’s only doing it because you’re not giving him what he wants, I’d personally wonder about repercussions.”

“Will Graham.”

Over the years, Will had grown accustomed to the many ways in which he was addressed. More often than not, there was a level of exasperation to it –mostly from teachers or authority figures. Sometimes, there would be laughter in their voice at something particularly funny he’d shared, sometimes nonchalance. Most times, something pressing and prodding managed to snake its way into their voice, something that let him know that he was probably a little too far detached from reality at the moment.

Despite the aggravated weariness, Will could honestly say that he was more than happy to be rescued by Agent Jack Crawford.

“Agent Crawford,” he greeted, and his foot stilled the swinging motion. The lights on the cop car kept flashing, and he felt disjointed from it, out of time. He glanced to his watch. The seconds kept ticking.

“Walk with me, Mr. Graham,” Jack prompted.

Will hopped off of the back of the ambulance and shot Tobias Budge a look that he hoped conveyed some sort of regret at their conversation being interrupted.

“Mr. Budge.”

“Mr. Graham. Best of luck to you. Your life seems very exciting.”

They shook hands, and Will found himself casually rubbing his palm into his work slacks as he turned his back and walked away.

“You look relieved to see me,” Jack said suspiciously.

“Out of everything going on, Jack, I can safely say that you’re the most constant in my life,” Will replied cheerfully. “You were saving me from an apparent fan.”

“An Avid Fan?”

They considered one another as they paused just on the other side of the police line. The mist was becoming rain at a slow and agonizing pace. It clung to Will’s cheeks and left his nose pink.

“An avid fan, but not that avid fan,” Will said slowly.

“You sure about that?”

“You could investigate him if you want. I did think it was weird to run into him here.” Will glanced back to where Tobias was giving another agent his testimony. “He lives in Baltimore and owns an instrument shop.”

“Well unless he’s making violins out of bodies, he’s not my problem.” Jack’s brow deepened into a divot, and he glared impressively at Will. “You are.”

“I found the body,” he protested.

“What’d I say about leaving me out of the loop, Graham?” Jack asked in a low growl. “Didn’t I say I’d have you brought in for obstruction of justice?”

This wasn’t happening. Will looked across the police line to the agents milling about with intent, their probing gazes not once turned his way. This was supposed to happen, his standing here with Jack. The agents knew not to wander by and interrupt.

“You’ll never catch him that way,” Will warned. His stomach was doing something funny in his gut, wrenching tight, tight, tight. He coughed to dispel the pressure. “He’ll just bide his time or disappear altogether. You won’t draw him out that way.”

“No, apparently all I need to do that is walk a very thin line between abiding by the law and getting in the way of the law,” Jack snarled. “If I’d known that years ago, I’d have caught him by now.”

Will thought of his meeting in less than two weeks’ time, how close he was to seeing Dr. Lecter in person and ending this once and for all. He thought of Abigail, how she was listless and had nowhere to turn, no one to lean on now that she was so utterly, utterly alone. He thought of the column, of Freddie looking at him across the coffee shop table with the oddest expression in her eyes, like she could finally see him and both loved and hated what she saw.

He thought of Beverly and how mad she was going to be after this.

“You arrest me, and you’ll never find him,” said Will, voice lowering to a soft murmur. He tried to make it coaxing, gentle. “He’d think it was funny you were so busy coming after me in a blind rage that you missed him entirely. He’d laugh all the way to the bank, Agent Crawford. Neither one of us want that.”

Jack Crawford managed a very small, sly smile. “I’m willing to take that bet. Will Graham, you’re under arrest for obstruction of justice and impeding an investigation. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you…”

#LiaS scribbles #ill intentions #hannibal fanfic #hannibal au #hannigram #slowburn hannigram #will graham x hannibal #dark!will #grey!will #journalist!will #tobias budge

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ncfan-1 · 6 years

Text

Professor Venomous vs. Roller Skates

If there is skating, there will be falling.

[Also on AO3]

As is likely obvious, I based this fic on this post that Ryann Shannon made to her Twitter.

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

The list of demands had been Cosma’s idea. She occasionally had to mind her nieces for long periods of time and had found that small children responded better to having to do their chores if they were allowed to make certain demands after long enough periods of compliance. “Just be careful you spell out anything she’s not allowed to demand ahead of time. The little monsters get very unruly if they think you’ve been acting in bad faith.”

Spelling out all of the things Fink wasn’t allowed to demand had been easy—or so Professor Venomous over-confidently, he realized now, had thought. She wasn’t allowed to demand any of the foods she was allergic to, especially not shellfish (No matter how much she begged, especially considering they’d found out she was allergic to it the hard way). She wasn’t allowed to conduct an experiment in the lab unsupervised; it was going to be a few years before Fink had the kind of fine motor control that would suffer allowing her to handle some of the more delicate materials or equipment. And by no means were they ever going back to the zoo, not since that time one of the zookeepers had taken Fink for an escaped zoo animal and tried to shoot her with a tranq dart.

Venomous had instituted the list of demands a few months ago, and so far, all had gone well. If Fink did her chores, then every other weekend she was allowed to write her latest demand on the list pinned on the front of the fridge by some of the refrigerator magnets they’d picked up the last time they were in the airport. She never really demanded anything too outlandish or beyond his ability to provide. Some of it had been, dare he say it, fun. (Vandalizing that billboard in sight of P.O.I.N.T. Headquarters had been very fun.) But today?

“You… want to go roller skating,” Venomous said blankly.

Fink grinned, showing off a mouth full of big, sharp teeth. “Yes!” One of those teeth was loose, and she whistled a little when she talked.

Venomous looked at Fink. He looked at the list, then stared around the kitchen and living room of their condo, then back to Fink. “You don’t own any roller skates,” he pointed out. “And if I get you roller skates, you’ll just outgrow them in a few months.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to go buy roller skates, Boss!” Fink protested. She puffed out her cheeks, eyes narrowed slightly. “I said I wanted to go to the skating rink!”

The skating rink. Try as he might, Venomous couldn’t quite help but twitch a little at the thought of it. Not being able to let things go was, to a certain extent, just part of being a villain, but there were some things he’d probably do better to let go of. This particular thing would be easier to let go of if he simply stayed away from any and all roller skating establishments.

“I honestly don’t know where to find any skating rinks,” Venomous tried. And it was the truth. The local skating rink when he was growing up had moved to another location about ten years ago. Not being the kind of person who frequented skating rinks, and not being the kind of villain who targeted them, Venomous had never bothered to find out where the new location was.

But Fink was not to be deterred by such a thing. “I got you covered, Boss!” She whipped out her phone, typed something on it and held it out to him, grinning. “See?”

Too late, Venomous remembered that Fink’s phone had a map app on it. She’d already taken the liberty of plotting their course; the skating rink was seven miles northwest of the condo, fifteen minutes by car in present traffic. That close, huh?

For a moment, Venomous considered telling her to think of something else to do today. He considered making up some story about why they couldn’t go to the skating rink, something involving an old arch-nemesis and a run-in with the cops. But Fink had gotten to the point where she could pretty much always tell when he was lying. Cosma’s horror stories about what her nieces did when they got “unruly” loomed in the back of his mind. And most importantly, there was the bright-eyed look of anticipation on Fink’s face…

“Alright,” he conceded. “Let’s be ready to go in half an hour.”

…that Venomous couldn’t quite bring himself to mar with disappointment. Heh, that probably had something to do with why he was a Level -7 and not a Level -10 or lower. Oh, well. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Around forty-five minutes later, Venomous was looking at the front of the skating rink through the car windshield, and already a sense of foreboding was building within him. He couldn’t really pinpoint the source. The sun was shining; what few clouds were in the sky were thin and white, rather than gray and stormy. Nothing about the building screamed “obvious trap for villains looking to go roller skating.” But still, he was getting the same feeling he’d gotten the last time he ordered a robot from Boxmore, right before the blasted thing had fallen apart after that first hit.

There weren’t as many cars in the parking lot as he had been afraid there would be. Less people meant less chances of a meddlesome hero deciding that a villainous bioengineer and his evil minion just weren’t allowed to do normal, non-villainous things in their free time. But the fact that there were less people here than he’d expected, on a weekend of all times, might be commentary on the quality of the rink itself.

And then there was the sign.

“Come on!” Fink ran out ahead of him, stopping by the black-tinted glass doors as Venomous walked at a more sedate pace behind her, staring up at the sign all the while.

‘STARDUST’ was spelled out in big, bold Plexiglas letters. The interior of the glass was coated in silvery-blue glitter which sparkled in the daytime sun. An image of a silver disco ball shimmered just below the sign.

Well, maybe it was just a holdover from the last location.

And maybe it wasn’t.

He’d been unable to hear it from outside, but once they walked inside the rink Venomous heard clearly the music blaring over the speakers. Upbeat synth-pop that he was pretty sure he’d heard over the radio or in a club sometime around twenty years ago, just a little too loud for comfort.

The next thing Venomous was struck by after he took in the music was how dark it was. The light levels would have been more appropriate for a night club where the goal was to never get too good of a look at the person you were dancing with. For a skating rink where the presence of small children was presumably not only expected but accepted, it seemed a bit… dim.

Then there were the lights over the rink itself.

It was easy to pick out the rink. Located in a massive depression in the center of the building, surrounded by guardrails (that were spaced so that an enterprising child—say about Fink’s size—could have crawled under the lowest rung, Venomous couldn’t help but notice) and accessible only by stair, it’s not like anyone could miss it. Situated at multiple points over the rink were colored spotlights that glowed dimly on the polished, gleaming wood floor. They shone the full range of the color spectrum, slowly shifting from one end to the other. And over the center of the rink, there dangled a gigantic disco ball, from which shot beams of silver light.

Disco. Venomous glared up at the disco ball. This place just had to be disco-themed.

“Boss?” Fink tugged on his hand and pointed impatiently at a desk off to the side of the rink, near a massive display rack full of sheets and safety equipment, and a row of lockers. “Check-in’s over there.”

“Alright, alright!” In spite of recent unpleasant revelations, he could still laugh. “It’s not like it’s going to grow legs and run away!”

Manning the check-in desk was a teenager who, to put it mildly, looked bored out of his skull. Boredom wasn’t on the list of things Venomous typically associated with a skating rink, but he supposed that if you came in here every day, it was bound to lose its novelty sooner or later. The teen was dressed in clothes that Venomous could only describe as a mash-up of a disco dance floor reject pile and 80s workout clothes. Sweatband and knee-high leg warmers and long, tasseled fringe and far too much polyester. Workplace uniform, Venomous supposed. Hoped.

“Welcome to Stardust Skating Sanctuary,” the teen intoned in what was honestly the most unenthusiastic tone of voice Venomous had heard since the last time he’d snuck into Gar’s bodega in disguise. Just like the cashier in the bodega, he was busy typing away on his phone, not even looking up. “How may I help you?”

“How much does it cost to rent out a pair of children’s skates?”

Without looking up, the teen pointed backwards at a sign behind him, which read “UNDER 12—10 TECHNOS. 12 OR OLDER—15 TECHNOS.” “Linda at the skates will help you get set up,” he droned, busily typing on his phone.

Without further ado, Fink headed over to the skates rack, where a woman with four eyes and six arms was waiting with a child’s foot measuring device. For a moment, Venomous considered being offended by the cashier’s visible disinterest in paying customers, but he decided to just drop it. If he had to dress like that for work every day, he’d be done with everything, too.

Venomous handed the teen his credit card and waited, staring around the rink. At the back on the left-hand side, there were a few arcade cabinets. A trio of preteens were hanging around them, two of them squaring off at a dance machine while the third looked on. At the center of the back there was a sign for the restrooms. On the right-hand side, there was a small food court with tables set up in front of it; the aroma of fresh pizza wafted over to the check-in desk. Venomous let out a quietly relieved breath. At least there’d be somewhere for him to sit and wait while Fink was skating.

“Sir?” When Venomous turned his attention back to the teen, the latter was frowning at Fink, who was still looking for skates her size while Linda helped. “If your daughter is under four feet tall, you must accompany her into the rink.”

“Fink’s not my daughter; she’s my minion,” Venomous replied automatically. Like that would help him now.

The teen opened and shut his mouth like a fish stranded on dry land. When he found his voice again, he fixed Venomous in a flat stare and told him, “If your minion is under four feet tall, you have to accompany her into the rink,” like he had already had to explain this to far too many people. “Otherwise, she can’t skate. House rules.”

He pointed off towards the rink. When Venomous saw what he was pointing at, it was all he could do not to slap his forehead in dismay.

Off by one of the stairways down into the rink, there was a cardboard cutout. The character was decked out in inline skates, helmet, knee and elbow pads, and the sort of one-piece exercise suit that should have died with the 80s. Totally without explanation, it was a badger. It was holding its right hand about four feet off the ground, and a sign next to it read, “Boris the Badger says you must be this tall to skate by yourself. If not, ask your parents to join you!”

Venomous’s gut reaction was to refuse. He knew he’d have to put on skates to go into the rink; by no means would they make him do that. Never again. Venomous didn’t like making a complete fool out of himself in public any more than the next person.

But he’d already promised Fink that she could skate. Going back on his word now would be setting one heck of a bad example for her. Villains could double-cross their enemies any day of the week; that wasn’t just acceptable, but expected (Though if your enemy happened to be powerful or influential, perhaps not the best idea). However, villains—especially very young and inexperienced ones—really shouldn’t get the impression that double-crossing their allies was a good idea, especially not over something so trivial. Villains, real villains who didn’t traffic in things like moral ambiguity, tended to have limited social circles. You needed to be careful about just what you did with your social capital.

Of course, the chances of Fink, young as she was, doing anything but scrunching her face up in confusion if he spoke to her about ‘social capital,’ were close to nil, but the principle stood. Venomous really did slap his forehead this time. “Alright,” he muttered. “One child and one adult.”

By the time Venomous made his way over to the fitting area for skates, Fink appeared to be almost done finding something that fit her. They were down to two pairs of skates.

One of which was inline.

“Not the inline,” he vetoed, before Fink could say anything. “They’re too difficult to balance on. You’ll fall.”

Fink’s red eyes opened wide in indignation. “I will not!”

“You’ve never worn skates before. The inline skates are too advanced for you. You’re not wearing them.”

Fink stuck her tongue out at him, but grabbed the quad skates and went to wait on a bench by the rink, back turned to him.

“Do you have men’s quad skates in a size 10?” Venomous asked Linda. “I’m not picky about the color.”

Linda nodded. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Oh, sir? Is your daughter—“

“She’s my minion, not my daughter.”

Linda glared at him with all four eyes. “If your minion is less than seven years old, she’ll have to wear a helmet. Is she less than seven years old?”

Venomous had designed Fink to have stronger bones than nearly anyone she would ever encounter; the only reason they weren’t stronger was because his research suggested that that could lead to… problems. The likelihood of Fink ever winding up with broken bones or a skull fracture was close to zero. However, her soft tissue and internal organs were no sturdier than the average, healthy human’s. Going out on the rink without a helmet could still end poorly for her.

He weighed all that against one very important caveat: Fink’s ears. The helmet didn’t have any holes, so Fink’s ears would be completely covered, and she wouldn’t be able to hear a thing. There was also a risk of damage to her ears if they were pressed flat against her head for too long.

“She’s older than seven,” Venomous lied, and decided they’d just have to take their chances. He could stop her from taking a serious fall without much difficulty.

Linda looked less than convinced, but rather than trying to argue the point, she held out a key on a hot pink spiral bracelet. “Here is the key to a locker, so you won’t have to leave your shoes or any of your valuables out in the open. Now, if you’ll come with me, I think we can find skates for you…”

A short while later, Venomous had his skates (hot pink, again) and went over to where Fink was waiting. Well, sulking would be a better word for it. She glowered up at him when he approached. “I could’ve done it,” Fink groused, crossing her arms over her chest.

“If you do alright with the quad skates and we ever come back here, I’ll let you try them then. For now, you need to start off with something more stable.”

To show just how little she thought of that, Fink made what was, honestly, an impressively grotesque face. Venomous had seen corpses still trapped in a death rictus that were more pleasant to look at than that.

He smiled slightly. “Keep it up. Your face might stick that way.”

Fink beamed, anger apparently forgotten. “You think so?”

“Anything’s possible.”

Since another rule was that skates were not to be worn outside of the rink itself, they took their skates down into said rink. There were about thirty people using it, a near-even mix of children and adults, but the rink was large enough that it was fairly easy to find a quiet spot to sit down and get their skates on.

These are stiff, Venomous thought to himself as he struggled to get his skates on and laced. Apparently this particular pair of skates hadn’t been worn that often. That seemed a bit unlikely, considering there had only been ten pairs of skates in his size to start with, but perhaps they were new.

A faint odor of sweat clung to the cool air here, accompanied by shoe leather and a very weak pine-scented air freshener. Venomous wasn’t entirely sure how that was even possible, but the music was even louder here than it had been up above, so loud that it was making his teeth chatter. He spared a concerned glance for Fink—her hearing was much keener than the average human’s, after all—but inexplicably, she seemed unbothered. I suppose I should have her ears examined the next time we go to the doctor’s, he thought wryly.

Most of the rink was lined with a guardrail that, Venomous supposed (and hoped it was strong enough to serve the purpose), was meant to aid fallen skaters in getting back up. The only place with a break in the guardrails, asides from the access points at the stairways, was almost directly across from where he and Fink were sitting.

Painted on the wall, there was a smiling tiger dressed much the same as ‘Boris’ upstairs. Off to its left, a large sign read:

TAMMY THE TIGER SAYS SAFETY ROCKS!

Tammy’s Safety Rules:

No shouting No fighting No pushing or shoving No biting or clawing No food or drinks on the rink No use of superpowers No duels to the death No weapons ESPECIALLY no ray guns No gum

Stardust Skating Sanctuary is designated neutral territory for heroes and villains, as well as assorted sidekicks, apprentices, minions, henchmen, and robotic servants. So everyone remember to get along and have fun!

Neutral territory? Well, at least that minimized the chances of some trigger-happy hero or their trigger-happy sidekick to take a potshot at them. Venomous tapped Fink’s shoulder and pointed out the sign. “Have you read the safety rules yet?”

When Fink got to the end of the sign, she made another face, though this one looked more like she’d swallowed a lemon than done an impression of a death rictus. “Oh, not that again! So we can’t mess with any heroes even if they’re hogging the rink?!”

“Not unless you want to get kicked out—and never let back in.” Venomous smiled thinly down at her. However, if a hero tries to hassle you, I’ll hardly be angry if you give them what they gave you, and twice again.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Boss, I will,” Fink assured him.

All too soon, the moment of truth arrived. Venomous got to his feet, slowly, very slowly, clutching the guardrail in a death grip. He put as much weight as possible on his feet, willing them not to roll out from under him. Suddenly, he was finding himself inundated with a flood of memories from earlier years, none of them entirely pleasant. Ever so slowly, he began to remove his hand from the rail.

Fink, on the other hand, pushed off of the wall with all the confidence of someone who had no doubt of her success. She whirled around on her skates, cackling like someone who was plotting to take the world hostage with a doomsday weapon (One day. One day). “What were you worried about? This is easy! See me—oof!”

Of course she had fallen over. Planted face-first onto the flood, to be precise. Whoever was in charge of things upstairs loved punishing people for overconfidence, especially if they were villains. But before Venomous could even try to make his way over to her, she was right back up again, undaunted, and rocketing around on the skates.

I wonder if she even knows how to brake. But still, he smiled a little. Now, to let go of the guardrail…

He took a few tentative strides forward on the skates, careful not to stray too far from the rail. The floor must have been waxed just that morning; Venomous could see his face reflected there all too clearly, furrowed brow and clenched jaw. It was entirely too slick for his liking; every time he moved forwards, it was like trying to walk down a sidewalk coated in ice without falling over.

Venomous bit back a frustrated growl and moved away from the rail. He could walk around in go-go boots all day without a problem; why should roller skates (quad skates, too, not inline) be any different?

His first thought, after a few hesitant strokes, was that this wasn’t so bad. Certainly, it was beer than the last time, though that was hardly an achievement to applaud. With only a few minor hiccups, he could keep his balance without much trouble—this rink was level, and that certainly helped. He wasn’t going very fast—not like Fink, who was currently racing (as much as her short legs allowed) around the rink, with the other skaters scooting out of her way. Going that fast wasn’t the name of the game. Staying upright was.

This… wasn’t so bad. It was never going to be good, per se, but it wasn’t so bad.

His ankles wobbled ominously.

History taught a lesson that still held true in present day: once his ankles began to wobble, it was all over. He was not going to regain control, was not miraculously going to find himself steady again. It was all downhill from here. Still, Venomous tried to steady himself. Tried to stop, in vain.

Why did the ground always rush up to meet him so quickly, so hard? Venomous knew how the laws of gravity and inertia worked; he had paid attention in high school science classes. Still, it didn’t seem quite fair that the landing should be so unforgiving. At least he had landed flat on his back instead of landing on his face or his leg.

“You okay?” Fink called from the other side of the rink.

Venomous waved a hand weakly in her general direction. The light above shone blue, then purple, then black. “I’m fine.” The music seemed even louder than before; he nearly had to shout to hear himself over it. “Just keep on doing what you’re doing.” The silver disco ball was just barely in his field of vision. He scowled up at it, as though it was responsible for his fall.

The skates were not going to beat him. If he had to wear them, he would master them. If he could bioengineer a person like Fink, he could roller skate. Small children could do it; it only stood to reason that he could, too.

The second fall came maybe three minutes after the first.

The third fall came around thirty seconds after the second. Thrusting his arm out in front of his face was the only thing that kept Venomous from face-planting right onto the gleaming floor. This time, he didn’t get up. He really couldn’t be bothered. He just stayed where he was, lying face-down on the floor, his bones vibrating roughly in time to the music.

Before he could spend too much time enjoying his new career as a man-shaped roadblock, Fink skated over to him. Venomous could feel her poke his back cautiously. “Boss? You okay?”

“I’m dying,” he moaned.

A few more pokes followed that, more insistent. “You’re not dying,” Fink retorted. She prodded between his shoulder blades with her fingertips. “You just fell over!”

“I’m dying,” he insisted, struggling to keep laughter out of his voice and instead adopt a suitably morose tone. “Avenge me, Fink.”

“On what?” She jabbed her finger into his back. “The floor?”

Fink began to poke his back incessantly, until maintaining the ruse would have just been completely ridiculous, and, not without some reluctance, Venomous sat back up. He brushed his hair out of his face and grimaced down at her. Fink regarded him with a deliberately neutral look on her face, before that neutral look broke into a grin and she began poking his chest, hard.

Venomous batted her hand away. “Alright! Have some mercy on your creator; I’ve never taken to this as well as you have.”

Fink mimed at poking him one last time, but pulled her hand away, that grin still affixed to her face. “Have you ever been here before, Boss?”

He shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

It wasn’t a lie. The local rink had only been in this location for around ten years, after all. He’d never set foot in this building before today. It was good that he didn’t have to lie to her. Fink would have been able to tell, and there were some things he wasn’t ready to explain to her. When she was older, perhaps, but not now, when she still possessed a child’s black-and-white understanding of the world.

Mercifully, Fink didn’t pick up on any evasion of his. She merely raised an eyebrow and asked, “So I guess you can’t skate that great, huh?”

“I’m afraid not.” Leave aside the fact that if you wanted to learn to roller skate, there were more places to do it than just the skating rink. You didn’t often see an adult learning to roller skate on a sidewalk; outside of sports competitions and skating rinks, you didn’t often see an adult roller skating, period.

Fink regarded him in silence for a moment, before breaking into another grin. “I can show you how!”

Venomous tilted his head downwards and stared dubiously at her. “Says the girl who’s been roller skating for all of fifteen minutes.”

“I can!” Fink insisted, putting her hands on her hips. “You’re always telling me we gotta try new things. Just trust me.”

And she’d said it. There went the death knell of any chance Venomous had of just sitting this one out, clanging so loudly that suddenly the music didn’t seem so loud after all. It was not use that the ‘gotta try new things’ Fink referred to had much more to do with trying to get her to eat foods she was unfamiliar with than with anything else. With little to no confidence of his ability to stay upright, he got back to his feet. Oh, well. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. At least no one he knew happened to be at the rink today to watch him fail repeatedly.

Fink grabbed his hand in her own and set off down the length of the rink. “See?” She laughed. “It’s easy once you get the hang of it!”

It really wasn’t, but it was hardly going to hurt him to just let her have this. It wasn’t always the kid who needed to learn new things.

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

Trying to guess how Professor Venomous and Fink would act on a “day off” was a little bit of a process. Venomous spent most of ‘We’re Captured’ in a state of deep irritation, and wasn’t exactly happy for most of ‘Villain’s Night Out’ either; his appearances in ‘Villain’s Night In’ and ‘Boxmore Infomercial’ were basically just cameos. How does he act when he isn’t irritated, when he isn’t around heroes or other villains, when it’s his “day off”, I asked myself. The answer: “…Like a dad. A dad who also happens to a villainous bioengineer.” Until we get more insight into his relationship with Fink, I stand by this.

As for Fink, I figure that she’s probably still rambunctious, but at least a bit better-behaved when she isn’t around people she hates.

#OK KO let's be heroes #Fanfic #Professor Venomous #Fink #Egregious amounts of fluff

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womenofcolor15 · 4 years

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‘Glee’ Star Samantha Ware & TV Host Shaun Robinson Call Out Lea Michele, Billy Bush & Hollywood Colleagues For Privileged Behavior

Long gone are the days where Black Hollywood is keeping quiet about racist, privileged behavior. Both “Glee” star Samantha Ware and TV host Shaun Robinson are calling folks out and we're here for it. More inside…

Black Hollywood isn’t taking anyone’s ish anymore! It’s 2020 and folks are no longer staying silent on mistreatment in Hollywood.

Apparently, “Glee” star Lea Michele posted a tweets about George Floyd’s killing and her support of the Black Lives Matter movement on Twitter and that snowballed into something controversial. Then, all hell broke loose.

"George Floyd did not deserve this. This was not an isolated incident and it must end. #BlackLivesMatter," Lea Michele tweeted.

Peep the full thread below:

George Floyd did not deserve this. This was not an isolated incident and it must end. #BlackLivesMatter

— Lea Michele (@LeaMichele) May 29, 2020

Lea’s former co-star Samantha Ware (a black woman) felt a way that Samantha would tweet bout Black Lives, but was allegedly SO mean to her on the set of “Glee.” She brought up a time where Lea allegedly said she wanted to "sh*t in her wig" and that she made her tim on the "Glee" set a "living hell."

Peep her tweet below:

Oh, and Samantha isn't the only one who felt Lea's alleged wrath.

pic.twitter.com/mgq6Vtcmgm

— Amber Patrice Riley (@MsAmberPRiley) June 2, 2020

As ish was popping off, "Glee" star Amber Riley posted a gif of herself sipping teal. She came to Samantha's defense and said she has heard similar stories during an interview on “Real Quick with Danielle Young.”

“I’m not going to say that Lea Michele is racist. That’s not what I’m saying. That was the assumption because of what’s going on right now in the world and it happened toward a Black person,” Amber said. “I’m not going to say that she’s racist. She’s also pregnant and I think that everyone needs to chill. Y’all dragged her for a couple of days. But at the same time, in my inbox there are a lot of Black actors and actresses telling me their stories and letting me know they have dealt with the same things on set, being terrorized by the white girls that are the leads of the show,” she said.

Glee co-star Heather Morris spoke out, revealing Lea was very “unpleasant” to work with and said she continually disrespected others and deserved to be called out. Cast members Alex Newell and Melissa Benoist, amongst a slew of others, have also spoke out about Lea's behavior.

Actress Imia Edwards, also came forward with claims that Lea Michele was disgusting towards her on the set. She claims Lea burped in her face and stomped on her foot.

"She did treat me like I was nothing, like I wasn't even worth making eye contact with, so maybe," Imia said. "These things can offend and hurt us, and sometimes they don't know what they're saying or maybe they think they can get away with it – 'Oh it's just a black person, they don't really care, they're less than'."

She'a also accused of calling people (black people) cockroaches on the set.

did somebody say cockroaches? because that’s what she used to refer to the background as on the set of glee. but we grow up and we don’t stay background forever sooooo...

— Jeanté Godlock (@jeantegodlock) June 2, 2020

I’m gonna say this one time... when my friends goes through something traumatic I also go through it... that’s what friendship is... and if you can’t understand that then you’re part of the problem... and that’s on PERIODT! And I mean that for both sides of this coin!

— Alex Newell (@thealexnewell) June 2, 2020

Nope.

Less of this energy. EVERY person on a set matters. EVERY person on a set deserves respect. And it is the RESPONSIBILITY of every series regular to make EVERY person who visits their home feel welcome.

This dismissive attitude is what’s wrong in Hollywood AND the world.

— yvette nicole brown (@YNB) June 2, 2020

The controversy resulted in Lea losing a brand partnership with Hell Fresh. The company said they cannot remain indifferent to any type of racism or discrimination, so that's why they dropped her.

“Recent statements about Lea sadden and disappoint us. We take these types of situations very seriously and have concluded our association with her, with immediate effect,” they said in a statement released via Twitter.

HelloFresh has announced that they are officially ending their partnership with Lea Michele, following the revelations about her past racist behavior. pic.twitter.com/58MGS6xVAi

— The AHS News (@theahsnews) June 2, 2020

One former colleague recently came to Lea'shttps://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-news/news/lea-michele-was-self-obse... "> defense:

“Though she was completely self-obsessed toward everyone, she did not discriminate,” a source who worked with Lea told US Weekly. “It didn’t matter if you were young or old, black or white — it’s just kind of her world."

Of course, Lea Michele issued a lengthy apology for actions she claims she doesn't even remember doing.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Lea Michele (@leamichele) on Jun 3, 2020 at 4:03am PDT

“Whether it was my privileged position and perspective that made me appear to be acting callously or inappropriately, or my immaturity and being unnecessarily difficult, I want to apologize for my behavior and the pain it may have caused,” she said.

Lea posted her apology, so this will likely kept swept under the rug and Hollywood will STILL offer her opportunities. Hopefully, Black Hollywood stays on her neck and doesn't let that happen.

Another YBF star calling folks out....

TV host Shaun Robinson is also calling folks out for their privilege amid the George Floyd protests. After her former "Access Hollywood" co-host Billy Bush Bush shared a tweet that she felt was hypocritical, Shaun addressed it publicly and called him out for jumping on the bandwagon.

“Good Morning, Billy Bush,” Shaun tweeted. “I appreciate you being an ally NOW. But, if you want to talk about the pain #WhitePrivilege causes African Americans, you should probably also talk to the black woman who sat next to you on the set of #AccessHollywood for years.”

Good Morning @thebillybush. I appreciate you being an ally NOW. But, if you want to talk about the pain #WhitePrivilege causes African Americans, you should probably also talk to the black woman who sat next to you on the set of #AccessHollywood for years. https://t.co/CN5jnJ4NOb

— Shaun Robinson (@shaunrobinson) June 3, 2020

Womp.

Shaun and Billy worked at "Access Hollywood" from 2004 until 2015 and it clearly wasn't an enjoyable experience for Shaun, so she's letting the masses know about fake and phony people are. You can't post up a tweet saying "Black Lives Matter" when you you treat black people like sh*t on a daily. The tweets in solidarity are nice and all, but what are you - as a white person - doing to fight racsim and injustice? Posting tweets and memes isn't going to get rid of racism. And if that's not how you REALLY feel...save IT.

EXTRAS:

1. "Tiger King's" Carole Baskin was granted TV star Joe Exotic’s former zoo properties in Oklahoma, finding they were fraudulently transferred to avoid paying her under a $1 million trademark judgment. STORY

Photos: Jaguar PS/Ron Adar/Shutterstock.com

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/06/04/%E2%80%98glee%E2%80%99-star-samantha-ware-tv-host-shaun-robinson-call-out-lea-michele-billy-bush-hollywoo

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jonathanalumbaugh · 6 years

Text

Weekly Digest

January 7th, 2018, 6th issue.

A roundup of stuff I consumed this week. Published weekly. All reading is excerpted from the main article unless otherwise noted.

Read

Teen birth rates hit a new low in 2016, Boston has joined other cities in banning single-use plastic bags, Tesla restored electricity to a children's hospital in Puerto Rico after it was hit by hurricanes in September, the FDA cleared an earpiece that may help block symptoms of opioid withdrawal, 13 states saw record-lows of unemployment this year, Support for allowing same-sex marriage is at its highest point in 20 years, Vice President Mike Pence said in October that the U.S. "will return...to the moon not only to leave behind footprints and flags but to build the foundation we need to send Americans to Mars and beyond," a man in North Carolina has started the non-profit ChemoCars, a service that provides cancer patients with free rides to and from their chemo treatments, Uber partnered with the charity Whizz-Kidz to give those who use wheelchairs in the UK free rides to polling places this summer.

— 9 things America is getting right

This is not some “lite” version of Civ stripped down for touchscreen, mobile implementation. It’s the whole game.

— Civilization 6 on iPad is a marvel

First comment in thread: I keep seeing this referred to over and over, even TV Guide is calling the bad Cooper by the name BOB! In my opinion, this is something that people have been confusing for 25 years.

— Clarification: Cooper is not possessed by BOB

I got married two weeks ago. And like most people, I asked some of the older and wiser folks around me for a couple quick words of advice from their own marriage... Almost 1,500 people replied, many of whom sent in responses measured in pages, not paragraphs. It took almost two weeks to comb through them all, but I did. And what I found stunned me…

They were incredibly repetitive.

— Every successful relationship is successful for the same exact reasons

Explaining #Meltdown to non-technical spouse. “You know how we finish each other’s...” “Sandwiches?” “No, sentences. But you guessed ‘sandwiches’ and it was in your mind for an instant. And it was a password. And someone stole it while it was there, fleeting.” “Oh, that IS bad.”

— Scott Hanselman (@shanselman)

January 5, 2018

— Explaining Meltdown with parallel worlds, libraries, and a bank heist

TED Video: How to make stress your friend

— How to make stress your friend

A user visits a website, registers an account, and saves the data in the password manager. The tracking script runs on third-party sites. When a user visits the site, login forms are injected in the site invisibly. The browser’s password manager will fill out the data if a matching site is found in the password manager. The script detects the username, hashes it, and sends it to third-party servers to track the user.

— How web trackers exploit password managers

PricewaterhouseCoopers LLP was negligent in connection with one of the biggest bank failures of the financial crisis, a federal judge has ruled, opening up the Big Four accounting firm to the potential of hundreds of millions of dollars in damages.

— Judge Says PricewaterhouseCoopers Was Negligent In Colonial Bank Failure

Whether we see an LTE version of the Nokia 3310 in the US is still a major question, as is the release date of this phone — not the mention the battery life, which took a major hit when it added 3G support.

— An LTE version of Nokia’s 3310 may be coming

The Big Five... has produced results that can be shown to remain largely consistent across a person’s lifespan and that can be used to predict at least some part of a person’s likely academic achievement, dating choices and even future parenting behavior. It has also been validated cross-culturally to some extent, Soto told me.

— Most Personality Quizzes Are Junk Science. I Found One That Isn’t.

"Neither [Iraq] nor while I was in the military did I actually hear anyone ask whether we should be doing some of the research we were doing. You know, some of it was a little scary -- I don't know that it was necessarily unethical -- but nobody ever asked the question." -General Robert H. Latiff

— Nobody's Ready for the Killer Robot

If you are a low-wage worker who cuts your expenses to the bone in order to sock away $500 a year, on which you earn 8%, you will still not go more than a year in retirement without starving to death.

— Oh Damn, 401(k)s Aren't Magic

Ever stood at an intersection and prodded at, leaned on, elbowed and otherwise palm-slapped the ever-living hell out of a crosswalk button and wondered to yourself if the thing actually does anything at all, really? Well – chances are, it doesn't.

— Placebo buttons do absolutely nothing, and they are everywhere

Meanwhile, Pete is convinced the Log Lady stole his truck. But wait! It wasn’t the Log Lady. It was Windom Earle, says Cooper. How does he know? Well, look at the map up there. Duh. Try and keep up, people.

— Revisiting ‘Twin Peaks’ Season 2 Finale: An Appointment at the End of the World

In an interview with radio host John Catsimatidis in New York, Cohen said that it was clear that President Trump — like former President Obama — did not want to approve a plan to provide the new arms to Ukraine, but decided to do so in an attempt to shirk allegations that he has acted as a "Putin puppet."

— Russia expert: US decision to supply arms to Ukraine a 'mistake'

Scopophilia or scoptophilia (from Greek σκοπέω skopeō, "look to, examine" and φιλία philia, "tendency toward"), is deriving pleasure from looking.

— Scopophilia

The fatal swatting case started Thursday when a man called the 911 center in Wichita, Kansas, and said he'd shot his father and was holding his mother, sister and brother hostage inside a house, authorities said.

— Swatting case poses legal challenges for police, prosecutors

The IRS lets you claim investment-related losses on your tax return as long as you sell the money-losing investment at some point during the year. You can then use the resulting capital losses to offset any capital gains on other investments that you might have.

— Tax Loss Harvesting: Don't Wait Until Year-End to Save Thousands

Tesla was on the cover of Time magazine in 1931 but died a poor man in 1943 after years devoted to projects that did not receive adequate financing. Yet his most significant inventions resonate today.

— Tesla the Car Is a Household Name. Long Ago, So Was Nikola Tesla.

More than a century ago, in New York City, Paul Strand began creating some of the earliest candid street photography. His goal was to capture people as they act in public, unaware of the observing eye.

— Theater of the Streets, Shot On Google Glass

In 2016, psychologist Danielle Gunraj tested how people perceived one-sentence text messages that used a period at the end of the sentence. Participants thought these text messages were more insincere than those that didn’t have a period. But when the researchers then tested the same messages in handwritten notes, they found that the use of a period didn’t influence how the messages were perceived.

— There’s a reason using a period in a text message makes you sound angry

My beach wedding in Diani, Kenya, was supposed to begin at 4 p.m. It started two hours later. The reason: The photographer was late. He shrugged it off, blaming traffic. "I am here now and that is what matters," he said. Grrr, "Kenyan time."

That is what they call it in my homeland.

— Under 'Kenyan Time,' You're Expected To Arrive ... Oh, Whenever

The year 2017 was really successful for Vue.js. Even though the goals are partly fulfilled, I think that most of the goals are somehow achieved or getting more traction. Vue.js is spreading and a lot more companies are using it now, including: Behance, Adobe, Chess.com, GitLab, HERE Technologies, Car2Go, IBM, and many chinese companies like alibaba, ele.me

— Vue.js review of 2017

In 2007, Warren Buffett entered a million-dollar bet with the fund manager Protégé Partners that the S&P 500 would beat a basket of hedge funds over the next decade.

— Warren Buffett has won his $1 million bet against the hedge fund industry

Earlier today, Twitter published a five paragraph answer to the loudly, repeatedly-shouted question: “Why won’t you ban Donald Trump, a man who has actively used your platform to threaten nuclear annihilation against an entire country?”

— What Twitter's New Statement About Not Banning Trump Really Means

In South Carolina, for example, people hoping to buy a Siberian tiger to celebrate the new year are likely to be disappointed: As of Jan. 1, it is illegal in the state for typical residents — that is, if you're not a zoo — to buy or own exotic animals for pets.

— What's New In 2018? Here's A Brief Tour Of State Laws Now In Effect

Why people believe what they believe is a wide topic that many psychology professors investigate. And while Peterson’s lectures certainly do tend to focus on the idea of “pushing back,” the contents of them raise questions about whether the bad ideologies are the ones he’s rejecting or the ones he espouses.

— Why Is Monsanto Inviting This Alt-Right Hero to a Fireside Chat on Farming?

The danger is that such detailed, sensationalized coverage of suicide can prompt copycat behavior — a phenomenon called suicide contagion. “Suicide contagion is real, which is why I’m concerned about it.”

— YouTuber Logan Paul's video of a dead body put his own audience at risk

Then there’s the matter of how Uber treats its drivers. You know it’s not great, but it’s not as though competing services are much better. Before Uber, taxi companies were notoriously terrible employers. Lyft, like Uber, hires its drivers as independent contractors—they don’t get benefits or minimum-wage protection—and has cut their pay to make fares cheaper for riders.

— Are you a bad person if you still take Uber?

Forecasters are warning people to be wary of hypothermia and frostbite from the arctic blast that’s gripping a large swath from the Midwest to the Northeast.

— http://metro.co.uk/2017/12/30/niagara-falls-freezes-sharks-freezing-death-atlantic-7192401/?ito=cbshare

#Weekly Digest

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adventuresaroundasia · 7 years

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After two years of working as a college counselor in Beijing (and over five years of living in China), I’m finally moving on. That’s right, my job is finished, and soon I’ll be leaving my cozy Beijing apartment for bigger and better things.

I know, I can’t believe it either. I never thought this day would come, and now it’s almost here. I know quitting my job and leaving China is a huge deal, not just for me but for this site as well. But it had to happen someday, and that day is… six weeks from now.

Pin Me!

Let Me Fill You In

Leaving my job in China is obviously bittersweet. On the one hand, I’m super excited to finally be able to travel as long as I want and work for myself without having to worry about round-trip tickets and vacation days. On the other hand, China has become my home, and I know many of you are a bit upset that I won’t be living here anymore.

Who wants another bland, professional travel blogger who hops nomadically from country to country, living in cheap digital nomad hotspots like Chiang Mai and Bali. We have enough of those, thank you very much.

So today I thought I’d talk a bit about all of the huge changes going on in my life to give you all a little insight into where this site is headed.

Why did I quit my job? What’s next for me? Will I still be writing about China? Where am I going? How am I going to survive without a full-time salary?

Well, read along folks, because this one will answer all your questions!

My first few weeks as a college counselor in China!

Why I Quit My Job in China

Well, first things first, I didn’t actually quit my job in China. My two-year contract as a college counselor expired and I personally chose not to renew it, much to the disappointment of my boss and coworkers. While working as a college counselor was an incredible experience (and a great way to pay off all of my student loans!!), it just isn’t my dream job.

I’ll be honest, working as a full-time college counselor while also managing this site AND creating a new teach abroad site was REALLY HARD. I was constantly stressed and exhausted. During admissions season I developed panic attacks, and I suffered from some hard-core FOMO whenever I was offered an incredible opportunity I couldn’t take because I had to be at work.

My story is the same as any other person who wants to start their own business without the capital to quit their full-time job. Side hustles are hard. Developing a new business with a full-time job is time-consuming and exhausting. I haven’t had the time or energy to fully devote to this blog because I’ve been too busy actually working at work.

It’s my hope that leaving my job as a college counselor will actually give me the time and energy I need to make the most of this site. For the last year and a half, my traffic has been pretty much stagnant. I struggle to crank out posts on a weekly or bi-weekly basis, and I’m not making as much money as I would’ve hoped by this point.

But now you finally have my full attention, and that’s super exciting!

Me over two years ago, finishing up my dissertation at the University of Nottingham in China

So… I’m Still Actually Working for My Job in China

Wow. So many over-exaggerations! Not only did I not quit my job, I’m actually STILL working for my old company part-time.

As much as I want to dive head-first into being a professional travel blogger, I’m also a little too responsible for my own good. I’m not a fan of having a low bank account balance or taking any financial risks, and I couldn’t bear to leave my students right at the start of admissions season either. So, I decided to sign a part-time contract with my college counseling job for the remainder of the admissions season.

This fall I will be helping my students craft and design their college admissions applications remotely via email and Skype. I’ll be paid for each final draft I help my students complete, as well as each hour I meet with them to chat. So far, this hasn’t been too much work, but I know things will ramp up when deadlines start approaching.

I’ll also be coming into the office 1-2 days a week throughout October and the first half of November. I’ll be meeting a ton of students back-to-back to prep them for upcoming application interviews (my specialty!), and I may also teach a few large classes on specific topics like interviewing, essay advice, etc. Thankfully my company is paying me pretty well for these meetings, and I’ve been working closely with my coworker to schedule them all as tightly as possible.

Exploring the Summer Palace’s Suzhou Street

Why I’m Leaving China

I’ll obviously write a full post on this later because there are many, many reasons why I can’t stay in China forever, (crowds, pollution, censorship, food safety, bureaucracy, and if I get bumped into one more time…) but there are a few major reasons I can quickly address here.

I Want to See the World

Firstly, there’s just so much of the world I want to see that I haven’t been able to explore because I’ve been living as a full-time expat in China. There are even some major parts of China I still haven’t been able to travel to, mainly because I only get Chinese holidays off from work, and I don’t necessarily want to go to Huangshan at the same time as 2 billion other Chinese tourists.

I know that if I was paying rent in China, I’d constantly feel guilty whenever I was on the road. Why am I wasting all of this money on an apartment I’m not even in?! I know there’s Airbnb and subletting, but to be honest, I’d rather just put all my stuff in storage and actually travel without worrying about an apartment.

Bye bye expensive apartment

Beijing’s Rent is Way Too Expensive

Seriously, I paid more for my room in a 5-bedroom apartment in Beijing than my friend Edna did for a room in Paris! Sure, I could easily move to a cheaper city like Xi’an, Chengdu, or Kunming, which might be an option in the future, but why do that when I could have my own villa in Bali for half of what I’m paying to share a room in a tiny rundown apartment by the Beijing Zoo.

China is Horrible for Digital Nomads

Two words: internet censorship. Sure, I can get around it using VPNs, but I’m SO TIRED OF IT. Did you know I have 6 VPNs?! Yep, while I usually use Express, I have five other VPNs as a backup. FIVE.

I’m sick and tired of just not being able to get on Instagram, or having to drain my 4G to load a Snap. If I can’t get my VPN to work I have zero access to my email, Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Google, Snapchat, YouTube, GoogleDocs, Pinterest, and basically everything I need to actually do my job.

Wouldn’t it be nice if the Internet just worked? I’ve almost forgotten what that’s like.

Chillin’ with Mao in Tiananmen Square

I Need a Break From China

I love China. I just spent two weeks showing my parents around Beijing, Xi’an, and Yunnan. I had such a great time and even contemplated coming back to Yunnan for a month or more! I imagined myself picking out an apartment in Xi’an and possibly opening up a cute boutique hotel there (because for some reason Xi’an doesn’t have any boutique hotels).

China is incredible, but I need a freakin’ break! China is not the easiest place to live, and after 5 years, I just want some peace and quiet! I just need a break from the constant construction, crowds, pushing and shoving, oily food, pollution, and internet censorship.

I know I’ll be back, but for now, I need to take a breather so I can appreciate all of the good things about this incredible country without becoming the dreaded ‘Jaded China Bitch‘.

Big Adventures Ahead!

So… Where Are You Going?

With all of this free time comes the desire to pack it to the brim with adventures and travels. At one point I really thought I was going to show my parents around China in September, head to TBEX Ireland in October, travel around Ireland and UK, then go to WTM at the beginning of November, head to Africa in Mid-November, and Australia in December.

Oh my god. Not only would that completely drain all of the money I’ve saved up. I also wouldn’t have ANY time to actually work.

Thankfully I was able to put my foot down and give myself a solid 6 weeks for working here in Beijing. But come mid-November I will be traveling to Japan to work with the Mie Prefecture and spend two solid weeks hiking the Kumano Kodo Pilgrimage trail! Then Chris and I will be exploring a few other major cities: Kyoto, Osaka, and Tokyo!

After that, I’ll be heading to Australia to celebrate Christmas with Chris’ family in Ben Lomond Australia, a tiny village in Australia’s New England. To be honest, some peace and quiet after a few years in China sounds like heaven.

Finally, I’ll be visiting my parents in Palm Desert California, and then I’m onto a friend’s wedding in Atlanta!

What’s Happening With Adventures Around Asia?!

Australia? The US? What’s going to happen now that you’ve left China?

I get it. I’ve actually had multiple people message me saying that they’re disappointed I’m leaving China. People have come to associate me with this country, which is actually incredible, but also a bummer for many people now that I’m leaving.

So, to answer all your questions and quell any worries, here’s what’s happening with Adventures Around Asia!

Hanging out at the summer palace

I’m Still Going to Write About China

I have so much content on China I could literally create a new site tomorrow and never run out of blog post ideas. Seriously. I almost wish this blog was only about China so that I could have the time and energy to fill it to the brim with useful China content, crazy stories, and detailed guides.

Even though I’m not living in China full-time, I’ll still be writing about China. I’ll still travel to China, I’ll still create awesome guides, and I’ll be sure to keep all my info up to date. The only thing that will change on the China front is that I will no longer be continuing my expat monthly recaps, This Beijing Life.

I’ll still be covering Asia off the Beaten Path!

I Won’t Be Writing About Places Outside of Asia

I decided a long time ago that Adventures Around Asia will focus on Asia off the Beaten Path. I’m not going to all of a sudden start writing about Australia or Europe. I want to use this blog to show off the destinations and cultures that not everyone visits. I want to inspire people to explore like a local and get off the typical tourist trail.

There are enough blogs about Europe and North America. There are enough sites teaching you how to quit your job and travel the world as a backpacker or digital nomad, and there are far too many blogs talking about traveling Southeast Asia on the cheap.

I don’t want to compete with them. Frankly, they’ve been doing it better and longer than I have. While I do plan to share what’s going on in my life with all of you through personal posts and my new monthly recap series, The Freedom Life, I don’t plan on restructuring my blog to talk about something completely different.

Gotta update all the stuff from 2012!

I Will Be Writing More, and Updating Old Content

You know what’s great about not having a full-time job? Having the time and energy to actually commit to this site. Every time I read an old post about Sichuan or Yunnan from 2012, I squirm with embarrassment. Every time I check my most recent posts and see that I’ve barely written anything, I feel guilty.

Now I finally have the time and energy to fully commit to this site. Sure, I won’t be in China, but my China content will only get better in the following months. Promise.

Sometimes it feels like I’m the only blogger that’s NOT location independent

Aren’t You a Little Late to This Digital Nomad Game?

It’s a bit weird becoming a “digital nomad” when it feels like most travel bloggers are finally starting to settle down. To be honest, I almost feel like I missed the boat. Isn’t the digital nomad fad a huge cliche now anyway?

But despite all that self-doubt, I know I need to do this for me. There’s so much of the world I still want to see, and I want to be able to run my business and make money while doing it.

I know I’m late to the game, and I don’t care. I’m not becoming a “digital nomad” because it’s cool, or popular, or because everyone’s doing it. I just want to travel and see the world while also contributing, helping others, and growing a business I’m proud of (and without worrying about money all the time.)

I know the nomadic lifestyle doesn’t last, and I’m not even sure how long I’ll travel for. I’m an expat at heart, and once I’m tired of traveling, I’ll be settling down somewhere, probably in Taiwan. I’ll get a cute apartment and a cat, practice my Mandarin, find local friends, and buy some fuzzy blankets.

For me, “digital nomad” isn’t the dream. My dream is location independence. I want to be my own boss. Travel when I want to travel. Take opportunities when they come my way, and stop constantly worrying about vacation days and being in my office at a certain time, dressed a certain way, every. single. day.

I want freedom. I want control. I want to work for myself. Whether that’s on the road, as an expat, or at home in the USA is up to me.

What About Money? How Will You Survive?

Good question.

To be honest, I don’t make much money off of this site. It was my goal to be consistently making $1,000 USD a month by the time I quit my job. However, I can pretty much say I’m only hitting $600. While this isn’t a huge issue, it’s also not where I want to be, and definitely not enough to comfortably live in Beijing.

That said, I do have a few major income streams right now, and many more ideas where that came from!

Firstly, I had about $16,000 USD saved up when I quit my college counseling job. I have to say I’m pretty proud of myself for saving that much, considering I spent the first 1.5 years paying off $20,000 in student loans.

On top of my little nest egg, I have my part-time college counseling, which is a nice little consistent source of income. I’ve also been working as a recruiter for a few different schools and education companies in China. For every teacher that arrives in China, I make about $150-300 USD. This is a pretty slow moving process (especially since I’m SUPER picky about which schools I work with), so it can take months and months of work before I finally see a penny. However, I think this will be a pretty decent stream of income for me in the future.

Upcoming Business Projects!

In the next few months, I also really hope to work on boosting my passive income by fixing old blog posts to focus on affiliates. I feel like I’ve really been dropping the ball in this area, and I’d love to fix it.

FINALLY, I have a huge project I’ve been working on for the past few months. I can’t tell you all yet, but I will say it has to do with teaching abroad in China. I’m really hoping I’ll be done with everything by January, but it’s been a pretty slow-moving process.

If you’re at all interested in teaching abroad in China and you want to be one of the first to know about my HUGE MASSIVE INCREDIBLE PROJECT, be sure to sign up for my Free Teach Abroad Mini-Course and you’ll be the first to get all the info!

Just casually climbing a mountain in Yunnan

What About Your Boyfriend?

Oh, Chris? He’s coming too!

Chris has been location independent for a while now and works from home as a travel blogger and safari sales expert for a popular Tanzanian safari company. The only reason he lives in Beijing is because I’ve been stuck here (and his brother and nephew live here too).

To be honest, in the past I always imagined embarking on this new adventure alone. I was kind of excited about the prospect of long-term solo female travel. I embraced the challenge.

However, now I’m super excited about the idea of having someone to share everything with. Chris will be with me every step of the way, from hiking the Kumano Kaido, to working till the wee hours in a cafe with horrible wifi. Thankfully we have pretty much the same exact travel style, which makes things fairly easy.

…and we’re NOT combining blogs. I’m too much of a control freak for that.

Anything Else You Want to Know?

I know these are some huge changes, and this is a lot of information to process. That’s why I want to know: Is there anything I haven’t covered? Is there something you want to know about in more detail? Please let me know in a comment so I know what to cover in my next few posts!

Also, are you curious about hearing more on how I’m surviving as a “digital nomad”? Would you like a monthly income breakdown with personal updates on how I make money and emotionally handle working for myself? If so, would you like to see it in a monthly recap or as a post of its own? Be sure to fill me in on your thoughts!

After FIVE Years in China, I’m Finally Moving On After two years of working as a college counselor in Beijing (and over five years of living in China), I'm finally moving on.

#China #digital nomad #expat #location independent #personal

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chubsonthemoon · 7 years

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two idiots, one date

summary: For their very first date, Kageyama and Hinata go to the zoo. General dorky shenanigans ensue.

pairing: hinata/kageyama

words: 2664

also on ao3

thank you so much to @madamredwrites for commenting they would like to see more of these dorks! your support means the world <33

“A date. A date. A date, a date, a date a date…”

“Ugh, big brother! You’re being loud again!” Hinata pauses and sees his little sister at his bedroom door, her little face scrunched up in annoyance.

He flings himself onto his bed dramatically. “I can’t help it, Natsu. The world is ending soon.”

She makes a running head start from the doorway and lands straight on his stomach, laughing. ��You’re so silly. The world isn’t gonna end just because you have a daaaate with your booooooyfriend.”

Wheezing, Hinata pokes Natsu in the cheek. “Don’t you have any ideas about what we can do?”

She thinks about it for a moment. “Ooh! How about you catch dragonflies? Me and my friend did that the other day, and it was really fun!”

“Hmm…no.”

“Swimming!”

“Next.”

“Volleyball?”

A pause. “But we do that everyday, Natsu,” Hinata says glumly, which is kind of an odd feeling. Sadness and volleyball should not be on the same plane of existence. “Will it still be special?”

It’s volleyball, right? It’s always special, no matter the day.

He just doesn’t know if it’s necessarily good date material…

“I dunno,” Natsu says, after hard deliberation.

He tugs at the little baubles in her pigtails with a groan. “Thanks a lot, Natsu.”

“You’re welcome, Shouyou.” She elbows her way off his stomach, earning her another indignant huff. “Ask Mom instead!”

“Hey, Suga-san?”

Suga looks up from his desk, surprised. It’s very unlike Hinata to show up in the third years’ classrooms, if the familiar way he’s clutching his stomach is any proof.

Still, Suga is never one to turn down a cry for help, especially since he's grown rather fond of all the first year volleyball boys (even Tsukkishima). “What’s up, Hinata?”

Hinata’s eyes dart all over the room, as if searching for eavesdroppers, or perhaps an angry Kageyama. “I, uh…well…I have a…”

Suga nods encouragingly.

“I have a date,” Hinata whispers like he’s going to be sick. “And I don’t know what to do.”

He blinks, surprise flitting through his gray eyes for a moment. Then, he smiles.

(Hinata wonders how Suga-san can look so nice, but at the same time also look like the cat that just ate the canary).

“A date, huh?” he says, all cheery-like. “Well. Let’s see…”

“I was thinking that we could play volleyball! Or maybe go for a run?” Hinata stutters out. Suga doesn’t respond, brows knitted deep in thought.

“...Or something?” he finishes lamely.

Then, his senpai snaps his fingers, beauty mark next to his eye dancing. “How about something you both enjoy? Like…”

Hinata perks up. “Like volleyball?”

Suga smiles. “Maybe something else. What do you like to do in your free time?”

He thinks. Before school, he has practice. During school, he mostly thinks about how or where or when his next spike is coming (and, by extension, where his new boyfriend-teammate-partner is). After school, he has more practice. After practice, he goes home, eats, avoids homework, and goes to bed with thoughts of volleyball.

Volleyball, volleyball, and more volleyball.

Heck, even meeting Kageyama was because of volleyball.

Hinata groans, pressing his hands into his face. “There’s literally nothing but volleyball.”

With a laugh, Suga says, “How about Kageyama? Is there anything he likes? Other than you, of course.”

This whole dating business is way harder than he thought it would be. Hinata tries to think about everything he knows about Kageyama.

He likes volleyball, obviously. Hopefully, he likes Hinata more than he lets on. He likes milk and beating Hinata at everything and receiving compliments from their senpai and being number one (although Hinata obviously likes that way more than him) and trying to pet small animals (unfortunately, the small animals don’t seem to like him as much).

Hinata relays as much of this as he can to Suga-san, who thinks for a moment.

Then, he smiles, face all lit up like a Christmas tree.

“How does the zoo sound?”

This is a bad idea.

Really, Kageyama should have known, from the moment Hinata brought up this…whole date thing. Whatever.

“Hey, Kageyama! For our date, I was thinking we should go to the zoo!”

"Why the fuck would you want to go to the zoo?"

"O-obviously because it's super fun, you meanie! And all the animals and stuff are in cages, so they can't run very far away from you!"

The conversation hadn’t really progressed past that point. (Hinata had been too busy fleeing).

But here he is now, as promised, eleven-thirty sharp, at the gates of the local zoo. He shoves his hands into his pockets and tries to look as nonchalant as possible. It’s just a date. With Hinata. What could go wrong?

“Hey, Bakageyama!”

He turns and sees Hinata’s trademark hair bobbing excitedly, and elects to ignore the swooping sensation in his stomach. “You’re late,” he says instead, by way of greeting.

Hinata pouts a little, mouth turned up in a way that Kageyama would almost call adorable if it weren’t for the person it belonged to. “It’s not my fault! I had to watch Natsu this morning, and the trains were running late.”

“It’s still my win.”

“You suck, you know that?”

They bicker as they make their way to the ticket booth, and then it’s a race to see who can pay the bewildered man behind the window first. Kageyama wins, thankfully (long arms really are a blessing sometimes).

Once past the entrance, they stroll around the gift shop, near a snow-cone stand, and up to the large billboard-map with a little red dot that reads YOU ARE HERE. With two wins under his belt (arriving first and ticket buying first), and a not-cute-at-all spiker pointing excitedly at all the labeled enclosures beside him, Kageyama could almost say that this might not turn out to be so bad after all.

“Oi, are you listening? I think we should look at the bird exhibit first! Maybe they have crows!” Hinata says, eyes shining.

Kageyama snorts. “Dumbass. There are crows everywhere. If you wanted to see one, you should’ve gone to a garbage dump.”

“You’re a garbage dump.”

The aviary, as it’s apparently called (Hinata reads the sign, eyes squinted), is not actually a garbage dump. In fact, it’s quite interesting, with all kinds of colorful birds perched in the trees, the occasional twitter or caw or some other noise ringing throughout the enclosure.

Hinata leans over the railing, face a few feet from the perimeter of the cage. “Look, Kageyama! That one kinda looks like a crow!”

“That looks literally nothing like a crow.”

“It has black feathers, doesn’t it?”

“I mean, I guess.”

They move onto the next cage.

“Ooh, an owl. It kinda looks like Bokuto-san!”

“Huh.”

“We should take a picture and text him!”

Kageyama flicks Hinata in the forehead. “Do not bother one of Japan’s top spikers with your bullshit.”

Wincing, Hinata puts down his phone. “Alright, alright. Geeze.”

Next up are the monkeys. Kageyama looks in interest at the orangutan enclosure, and nudges Hinata with his elbow. “Hey, they have the same color hair as you do.”

Hinata nods. “Yeah, but I’m a lot more handsome than a monkey, though.”

Yes, you are.

“No, not really,” Kageyama says.

“Shut up!”

The rest of the day continues like this, with various insults and back-and-forths. Really, it’s like any normal day, minus the volleyball, plus few more animals. Most of said animals don’t even run away from him, which is nice (he refuses to think that it’s because Hinata is with him).

By the time lunch rolls around, Kageyama could almost say that dates aren’t so bad after all.

The universe acknowledges him shortly afterward when the sky begins thundering. Dark clouds gather in the distance, the wind picks up a little, and families begin to glance at the sky worriedly. Kageyama turns away from the penguins and asks, “Was it supposed to rain today?”

Hinata looks up from his popsicle and shrugs, lips ringed with blue. “I didn’t check the weather.”

Kageyama presses his fingertips into his temples. “So you knew we were going to spend the entire day outside, but didn’t bother to check if it was going to rain.”

“It’s just a little water.”

As it turns out, just a little water begins to escalate into a whole shitton of water. The sky cracks open, rain pouring from the clouds in literal sheets, so Kageyama is forced to grab Hinata’s stupid hand and run towards the sanctuary of the small aquarium.

“I’m really sorry, ok?” Hinata pants, hands braced on his knees. Kageyama tries to catch his breath before taking a half-hearted swing at him.

“Dumbass,” he says, wiping water from his forehead. “You should have checked the weather.” He takes another steadying breath. “Dumbass,” he says again, because he can.

“Aghhhh dumbass, dumbass, dumbass. Is that the—” Hinata gulps more air, gasping “— the only word you know?”

They gather themselves for another moment or two in the darkness of the aquarium, and then—

“Wow...” Hinata whispers.

Kageyama looks up and sees enormous tanks of water, spanning the width of the room and set into the walls. Each are full of eerie, colorful fish, neon coral, fluorescent hues of green and red and purple, filling the room with an ethereal glow.

“This is so cool!” Hinata squeals, and he dashes towards the nearest tank, fingers trailing along the glass. “Just look at all of them!” Before Kageyama can say anything more, Hinata begins to run, one hand still smearing droplets of water against the tank, the other splayed out freely, as if he were about to hit a spike.

He runs and laughs and jumps and sings—and all Kageyama can do is stare. Stare and stare and stare.

(Blue water and orange hair and pale hands stretched free, like he’s flying).

Finally, reality hits him. “Oi, Hinata! You’re getting the glass all dirty, you little—!”

Hinata, having made one complete loop from one end of the room to the other, simply pulls Kageyama along. “Let’s go, Bakageyama! There's probably more!”

“Still, that doesn’t mean you can act like a monkey!” Kageyama hollers back, voice unsteady.

They run wildly, hand in hand, through the nearly empty hall, ignoring the pounding rain and the annoyed stares. Kageyama feels like he’s hanging on for dear life to some kind of lifeline, which is stupid, really, because Hinata’s hand is not a lifeline and is actually really sweaty and still wet with rain.

“Kageyama! Look at the jellyfish!” Hinata says, pointing his free hand at the archway above them. “The ceiling is the fishtank! How cool is that?”

“It’s pretty nice, yeah—HEY DUMBASS, don’t push me!”

Finally, they reach another tank, a little ways off from the main hall, and Hinata slows down. This tank is the largest yet—and the most beautiful, Kageyama thinks. He’s not entirely sure if it’s because the room itself is a little darker, or perhaps the fish here are a little brighter. Weird.

He turns to Hinata to tell him something—what, he’s not entirely sure—when he notices the pale blue light encircling them, reflecting off the planes of Hinata’s face, turning the water droplets in his hair and—holy shit, his eyes— into starlight.

A short breath escapes him, which has nothing to do with the rain, or their run through the halls of a half-empty aquarium.

“Wow…” Hinata says, for the second time, face turned upwards towards the blue, blue light.

Kageyama looks at him for a moment, face feeling a little warm.

“Wow,” he agrees.

Then he turns and steps forward before Hinata can see his burning cheeks, eyes as close to the glass as he can get. He closes them, gives himself a moment to regain his composure.

It's just some stupid fishtank. Nothing weird about it.

But behind his eyelids, he sees not blue, but orange. Not fins, but wings.

After a heartbeat, he opens his eyes, and screams.

“What? What is it? Is it a shark?” Hinata asks, surging forward, just as Kageyama stumbles backwards. They both hit the ground, Kageyama’s back pressing Hinata’s chest against the floor, the latter’s elbow jabbing painfully into the former’s head.

“Jesus,” Kageyama groans. “Watch where the fuck you’re going, you idiot.”

“Well, if you hadn’t yelled like a big baby then maybe we wouldn’t have fallen!” Hinata wheezes back. He shoves Kageyama off of him. “What did you even see, anyway?”

With a groan, Kageyama sits up, gingerly testing out his limbs. “I dunno, some kind of fish?”

Hinata springs up and marches up to the tank, determined to find the source of their distress—and begins to dissolve into a fit of hysterical giggles.

“That? That’s what made you all scared? What a baby—not even Natsu would scream that loudly!” He wipes a stray tear from his eyes. “Aah, you’re so stupid, Bakageyama.”

Kageyama, never one to take such a blow to his pride, stands up indignantly. “It was way scarier than… whatever that thing is!” he spits, jabbing a finger at the offending fish. “It was really small at first! And then it, like, blew up or something!”

“How does it even do that?”

“How the fuck would I know?”

They end up scouring the entire room for some kind of label or sign that can help them identity the mysterious fish—and they find it.

“Apparently, it’s a puffer fish,” Hinata reads, traces of laughter still in his voice. “‘When threatened, the puffer fish often fills its stomach with water as a defense mechanism, exposing its poisonous spines, which act as a deadly poison.’” He glances at Kageyama slyly, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Your face is so scary even the fish freak out when they see it.”

Kageyama figures that Hinata may have the reflexes of a crow, but he must not have the survival instincts of a puffer fish, because he’s seriously asking for an ass-beating. “Hinata, you…”

“But!” Hinata continues brightly, not even noticing the danger. Almost against his will, Kageyama halts his attack and listens. He knows that tone of voice.

He's going to say something really stupid, isn't he?

“Even if the ball was a puffer fish," Hinata says, "—even if it was poisonous and gross and scared of your face, if you set it to me, I would spike it!” He places both hands on Kageyama’s own, eyes aglow, fingers warm. “Because, remember? If I’m here, you’re invincible!”

Kageyama just stares blankly, not quite registering.

When he finally does, he realizes that he is no longer capable of intelligent speech.

So instead, curls his long fingers over Hinata’s smaller ones (they fit perfectly he thinks distantly), and wonders how the hell he can feel so strongly for someone so…so…

“You’re so stupid,” he says, almost in awe.

And before Hinata can protest (Kageyama can see it coming; the indignant flush of his cheeks, his mouth opening slightly to retort back), he bends down and kisses him, right then and there, on his stupid face, in the middle of the world’s stupidest aquarium full of stupid poisonous puffer fish and stupid blue lights that make everything look weird and a fucking stupidly cute boyfriend.

He steps away, and notes, with a sort of detached sense of satisfaction, that they're both really kind of screwed.

“Dumbass,” he says; this time, perhaps, a little softer.

“Hey, Hinata. How did your date go?”

“Oh, it went great! Thank you so much for your advice!”

“No problem! I’m glad it went well. Whatcha reading there?”

“It's a book on marine biology! Tsukkishima said he didn't care if I borrowed it."

"That was nice of him."

"Ooh, Suga-san, look here! Did you know that there is enough poison in a puffer fish to kill 30 people?”

“Um. That’s nice, Hinata.”

“Ahhh, man. I want to spike one.”

“Spike what?”

“A puffer fish!”

“Eh?”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #kagehina #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #fanfic

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writeyourownlifestory · 5 years

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Love Someone - A Hardzello fic (3/3)

Rating: M

Ben Hardy never planned on falling in love. He just wanted to come to LA, get a decent paying job and maybe win an Oscar. Falling in love wasn’t part of the plan. Meeting Joe Mazzello wasn’t either.

Read it all right here

Read chapter 3 of 3 below

It was three hundred and sixty-nine days later that he finally saw Joe again. He had seen him through technology. FaceTime and Instagram updates and what not. They would chat whenever they had time and the group chats with the other guys were still up and running. They were involved and connected but not as much as they’d like to be.

The miniseries turned out to be a hit, far more than anybody ever expected. Ben got to travel all over the world. Wales and Scotland. He had met up with Allen in Ireland and stumbled into Gwilym in Vancouver. He had plans to head back to LA but they always fell through and while he found a strange comfort in being in his homeland once again, it wasn’t the same as sitting out on the beach, soaking up the sun.

With the mini-series being as successful as it was, the BBC was discussing it becoming something of an anthology series. Each season a different story to tell with different characters, but the same actors.

American Horror Story had been thrown around all over Twitter, but Ben didn’t care too much. He knew what they were doing was great and was glad to be a part of it. He was being seen as something more than just a pretty face. A real actor with real talent. People were impressed. People wanted more.

Ben wanted more too. He had done interviews and other auditions. He got callbacks. Lots of them. Chemistry test and what not. Things were looking up. The future was bright for Ben Hardy, but yet so dark at the same time.

There was no denying that he missed Joe and while London offered a lot to him that didn’t make the longing any less painful. He had been to clubs and parties. He met dozens of interesting people, beautiful people, but they never mattered.

He never went home with anyone, mostly because his home was over a thousand miles away. He buried himself into work, deciding that his main focus was going to be his career. Whenever anybody interviewing him would ask about his love life, he kept it short and sweet.

There’s someone out there for him somewhere.

Ben knew where he was and someday the world would know too.

The closest Ben got to California was when the cast had been invited to a press release and extra interviews in San Diego. They had their own little panel, something to meet the fans. There were talks about it recently being uploaded onto Netflix, bringing in a whole new array of fans. It was a wild ride, to say the least.

Ben had contacted Joe, to see if he would be interested in meeting up, but to his dismay, he was forced to decline. It appeared creating a mini-series took less time than making a film and Joe would be on location in Boston when Ben was in San Diego.

So close and yet so far.

He tried not to let it bother him. The experience in itself was phenomenal. Meeting fans and getting his name out there was great and meeting up with Rami was also a treat. He was raving about the series and how great it was for him. How hard he had worked and how nice it was to see it all paid off.

Ben was pleased, but he wasn’t happy. Not even when his agent called him bright and early in the morning, waking him to tell him the series had been nominated for a BAFTA. It was an honor. One Ben hadn’t ever dreamt of. He was ecstatic and had plenty of people to celebrate with.

Just not who he wanted to.

He didn’t push the issue, however. Didn’t bother Joe more than he should have. He was a grown man with a career of his own to focus on and Ben wanted him to enjoy the same thing he was feeling.

The acknowledgment. The praise. Joe deserved it all. In Ben’s opinion, Joe deserved the whole fucking world and if that meant Ben had to step aside so he could live his life without him in it, then so be it.

Even if it really fucking sucked.

They kept texting. Sometimes even flirting. Joe wasn’t a very good sexter. He would try to be, try to send a selfie of him biting his lip or giving a bit of a cheeky smirk but it always came out looking adorable. Ben would send something back and get a reply about how unfair it was. Looking sexy came naturally to Ben. It’s how his face was made, how his body was sculpted.

Little did Joe realize that Ben found him utterly and completely gorgeous even with the silly glances and dorky smiles.

They never tried to have sex over Skype, but they didn’t need to. Talking was more intimate than anything for them. Just to hear his voice made Ben automatically relax. Some days he would be so stressed out he wanted to rip his hair from his scalp, but hearing Joe speak, even if was just about the bloody weather, it was enough to calm his nerves.

They had exchanged gifts at Christmas time, little things that made one think of the other. Joe had gone to the Bronx zoo to shoot some scenes for the movie and got Ben a stuffed lion toy. It was reminiscent of Ben’s tattoo, the one Joe used to bite and kiss and lick all those months ago.

Ben got Joe a complete collection of Gene Kelly films. It was hard to get them all, but he had the time and effort and even the money. Joe told him he loved him when he opened it. It was a small, sweet confession that could have been caused by how blown away he was at the first.

Ben replied with the very same as he held the stuffed lion to his chest. It had a collar on it with a little “J” hanging from it. The lion sat on his dresser at night, watching over him. The collar wrapped around his wrist easily as a wristband. The tiny “J” hung gently.

Pictures had been taken of him every now and then and people speculated what the “J” stood for. He never said the real answer. He would just shrug and let people decide for themselves. He didn’t want people knowing. Not because he was ashamed, but because they didn’t deserve to be a part of it. Apart from his life, his love, when they couldn’t even be together.

It didn’t bother him that he said he loved Joe in such a lazy way. A mere ‘ditto buddy’ spoken over Skype as they opened up Christmas presents as they sat on other parts of the world. Taking time out of their busy schedules just to be together.

When the award show came about, Ben didn’t get a designer tux. He didn’t need it. He dressed well enough on his own and when he got ready, he left his phone on the charger. He counted down the minutes until his car would come about. He read the cards his agent had sent him, preparing for questions that might have been answered.

When he left, he forgot his phone at home but didn’t dwell on it. Not until he was in the car alone, realizing he had no way to contact anyone. Not his agent, or his cast mates, or friends. Or Joe.

When he arrived on the red carpet, he found his place in line and did the usual sort. He answered questioned, smiled for the cameras. He stumbled onto Rami and Lucy, who was looking more wonderful than always. Award shows were fun but even Ben had to appreciate the clothing you could wear.

He had dressed for enough designers to know what looked good on him. He went with all black, from head to show. It made his hair and eyes pop just a bit more. The married couple was searched for Gwilym, someone Ben didn’t even know would be coming. It dawned on him that Gwilym’s own event had been nominated, as well as a film Lucy had been involved in.

Ben felt terrible for spacing out on his friend's lives focusing solely on his own.

Ben apologized, explaining his lack of cellular phone. The two rolled their eyes but insisted he finds the man. When they headed inside, Ben slipped to the bathroom before heading to his seat. He was hoping to shake off some nerves and splashed water on his face. There was no attendant offering a towel or mints or whatever. Ben didn’t mind. He liked the privacy until the door opened.

He turned, prepared to scoot passed the next man and find his seat beside his costars, but someone blocked his way.

Someone in a handsome tuxedo and combed back hair. Someone with slight scuff that made him look older, more sophisticated. Someone who made Ben want to jump for joy.

“Who the fuck goes to an award show and leaves their phone at home?” Joe asked him, his arms crossed over his chest as he grilled the blond man.

He looked playfully annoyed, like a father punishing his son for going out after curfew. Ben just stared at him in absolute awe. Mouth dropped, eyes wide. Wet hands forgot.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here?” Ben demanded.

He was here. Dressed to impress. He was mostly clean shaven, aside from a bit of scruff along the edges of his jaw. His hair was combed back and he looked so grown up. Joe could make farmer chic look hot, so to put him in a clean cut suit was enough to make Ben weak in the knees.

“Gwilym got invited.” He told him easily enough. “He had a plus one. So I tagged along.”

It was in this moment Ben didn’t know if he wanted to snag Gwilym Lee or knock his bloody lights out. Ben too had the option of bringing a date but didn’t bother asking Joe. He seemed to on course with his schedule that he didn’t want to push him over by asking him to drop everything to come to London for the event.

Ben felt like a fucking fool and resisted the urge to slam his head into the nearby mirror.

“How the hell did you find time to come here?”

“We wrapped earlier this week,” Joe explained, finally taking a step closer. Only a foot between them now. Over in the corner was a door that could be opened at any moment. Ben didn’t give a damn.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered, almost hurt by it.

Joe’s expression softened. “Surprise.” He replied back.

“You’re a bastard, you know that?” Ben closed the gap between them, pulling Joe in for a tight embrace.

All the anxiety he had been harboring up to this point melted away the moment he was in Joe’s arms. He hadn’t felt this right since they were wrapped up in one another, locked away in Ben’s old loft, with only his sheets keeping them at bay.

When the door opened and another man made his way through, neither pulled away. They kept the embrace going until it just became too obscene.

“We better head out. My date is waiting.” Joe mentioned and Ben rolled his eyes, pushing the brunette by the shoulder out the door.

There was a short introduction with Gwilym when they got to the waiting hall. Gwilym had no intention of bringing a date, but he found it quite sad how utterly heartbroken Joe was having not seen their old pal Ben in so long.

Ben didn’t know if Gwilym knew about him and Joe and he was just teasing them or he was genuinely trying to be a good friend and bring Joe along with such a prestigious award show. Either way, Ben was grateful to the gentle giant.

He tried not to let the silly jealousy get over him when he saw Joe and Gwilym taking pictures. It was a new era when while Gwilym had never particularly said he preferred men over women, the people on the red carpet must have had a field had at the sight of the two.

Ben knew how much of a touchy-feely type person Joe was so he could only imagine what the pictures would look like. Joe dramatically draping himself over Gwilym to make the scene more than it was.

He clenched his teeth as the idea and stepped closed to Joe, cutting Gwilym in line and breaking the two apart carefully.

They stood in a group, waiting to find their places. Ben ran his pinky along Joe’s hand and the man easily laced their hidden fingers together. A million tiny sparks ran through their skin like it was a live wire set ablaze.

They were seated separately, which seemed like the most impractical torture to Ben. They stood together, being so close and yet so far away. When Ben was escorted to his seat, he let go of Joe’s hand, making a silent promise to hold it once this whole thing was over.

Going to a show like this should have been everything Ben dreamed of and deep down it was. But at the same time, he would have been more than happy to get up out of his seat and walk out if it meant dragging Joe along with him.

Every now and then Ben would turn and catch a glance at him. He was seated with Gwilym and his table, a bunch of people Ben either knew from working or were total strangers to him. Ben’s own table with lively and exciting, but he didn’t care too much. He spoke when spoken to and smiled whenever the camera was on him, but when it wasn’t he was searched for Mazzello.

When they were allowed to move about. Ben would go to their table or make his way to Rami’s with Joe in tow. They were never too far apart, only when they were forced back into their respected seats.

When the award came up, Ben’s series lost, much to the disappointment to his cast and crew. He didn’t mind so much, knowing they had more seasons to work on, more chances to win.

Joe was angrier than anybody, demanding a recount. They sat together afterward, with the world probably thinking Ben was drunk. He was smiling and relaxed, his head resting on Joe’s shoulder as he demanded the academy take the series into consideration as one of the best things ever created.

Christ, he was so in love with this man.

When it was all said and done and those who had won were taken away with their awards, the losers were allowed to leave. Rami and Gwilym were chatting away, discussing which afterparty they should be going to. Ben’s cast members told him they’d see him there (wherever there actually was) and Lucy mentioned how Allen, though not invited to the event itself, would be at one of the parties.

Ben had absolutely no interest in any party. And to his relief, neither did Joe. With a short goodbye to their friends and no explanation, the two went to Ben’s car and left the theater. The moment they were in the car, Ben pounced on him.

Joe was still seething with disdain and betrayal, swearing he would write a letter to those who chose who won and who lost, insisting that while he may be an American, he knew what good film was. Ben silenced him with a kiss, one that he had been waiting one year and four days to have.

Joe melted into the kiss, his hand and thumb doing that wonderful thing it did when he held Ben’s face in his palm. When they pulled away, Ben ran his nose along Joe’s jaw, the soft hairs of his chin tickling his skin.

“Way better than some after party,” Ben swore, leaning in to suck against the red of Joe’s bottom lip.

“As much as I would love to literally ride you into oblivion and allow you to completely devour me, I haven’t eaten since this morning,” Joe told him against his lips. “And all Gwilym keeps in his place is crackers and goat cheese.”

“Anything,” Ben promised, pulling Joe closer to him like if he didn’t hold onto him the man would roll out of the bloody car. “Whatever you want. Just say the word.”

Joe thought about it, humming dramatically before kissing Ben once more. He kept his promise and took Joe to the one place he was hungry for, which strangely happened to be a McDonalds. This fucking American man was going to be the death of him.

And he would die happily.

The two men walked in, well after the appropriate time to enter a McDonalds, dressed to the nines with slick back hair and hungry stomachs. They ordered way more food than either of them needed, practically eating it there because they were lazy and then taking the rest back to Ben’s place.

Joe had snapped a picture of them for the group chat, as the lads were curious to know where they had gone off to despite it being incredibly obvious. When they got back to Ben’s home, which for the first time since he began living in it actually felt like a home now that Joe was around, the blond went to grab his phone.

He had dozens of missed messages, both from his friends and castmates. People looking for him at the parties, his agent telling him not to worry about the loss and focus on his upcoming audition.

In a rare moment of spontaneous excitement, Ben stole the picture Joe had taken of them and posted it to Twitter. He was sure the interwebs would literally explode and he partially wanted it to happen. Ben wanted to watch the world burn as he sat by the man he loved.

He made it public, captioning it that not everybody who lost went home a loser and tagged Joe for good measure.

Joe got the notification, smirking as he retweeted the post, replying that he was STILL writing that letter.

“You know. That’s pretty romantic for a guy who isn’t gay.” Joe spoke boldly.

Ben just shrugged, pulling off his suit jacket. He tossed it blindly on the couch, going to unbutton his shirt. Joe followed in suit, leaving their clothes along the floor without a care. When they got to the bed, they fell on top of it with ease.

Gentle kisses were surprising for two men who were equally touched-starved as they were. Sex could wait, just for a few moments longer. Ben was kissing along Joe’s face, nuzzling into him, just breathing him in. For a moment, it felt like he forgot what this felt like. What he smelt like.

Ben wanted to imprint himself onto the man. To never leave his side. His phone was blowing up, but he didn’t care. The world could burn in hell at this point.

“I hope you realize I’m not letting you go now,” Ben told him bravely, catching Joe’s eyes as he turned to look to him.

Ben could keep him in this bed, in this city, if it was the last thing he did. Or he would follow him back to LA or Boston or New York. Wherever he needed to be. They would make it work, one way or another. The series only took a few weeks to shoot and then he was free. He could bounce back and forth.

Maybe one day their careers would be so massive they would only have to do one project a year. And spend the rest of their days laying together like this, nearly naked in bed, comfortable and content and absolutely head over heels for one another.

“Oh, I don’t plan on leaving buddy,” Joe told him, laughing peacefully. “It’s a wrap on the film. Now starts the fun part.”

Ben leaned forward and kissed him. And kissed him and kissed him and kissing them even as they shed the last bits of clothing they had on. Until they were completely naked with the only thing Ben was wearing was the collared wristband with the “J” on it. A constant reminder he refused to take off.

Maybe the “J” stood for joy because that's what he was feeling right now. Absolute joy. And happiness.

And when he slid inside him, Ben finally remembered what it felt like to be home.

#writing #fanfic #fan fiction #BoRhap #Hardzello #Joe Mazzello #Ben Hardy #ben hardy/joe mazzello #joe mazzello/ben hardy #Queen #Rami Malek #Lucy Boynton #Gwilym Lee

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