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trifoliumrex · 2 years

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Assassin X Roommate Chapter 6

A Jungkook/ Reader/Jimin Fic

You need a roommate. Jimin and Jungkook need a place to stay. The only problem is you think they are students when in reality they are assassins on the hunt for their next target. How do you survive when you get tangled up in a world of blood and bullets?

Word Count: 4380

Updates Friday

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40321704/chapters/101000544

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/trifoliumrex/692386511476359168?source=share

“Let's see who can make her bleed first.”

“Fuck I think she’s awake!”

“Keep her still. If you move you fucking bitch I'm going to kill you I’m going to” strong hands rub soothing circles on your back and the size alone let you know its Jungkook. Whose arms you have ended up in. A dream then. Just a dream.

He waits till your eyes are open to press a kiss to your crown. He hasn't talked to you yet hasn't made it clear that you are his. Not yet. Wait he tells himself. Till you think you have a choice. He would keep himself hidden if you wanted to pretend. If you want to feel independent. He very much doubts you will.

It's been about a week since he first started feeding you those magic pills and in that time you haven't stopped reaching for him or Jimin. You had woken up once without either of them there Jimin cleaning the wound in his own neck. You crawled into Jungkook's bed to high to know better. Desperate to have them by your side. “Just a dream honey. Just a dream. Do you want to tell me who was in it?” you open your mouth to speak and then shake your head. It's an old routine at this point but Jungkook doesn't mind. His pretty baby is like a scared rabbit. He just needs to show you that you are safe with him. Then you will speak. “That's ok. We can wait.”

The worst bruises are just starting to fade and the ones that were relatively minor are almost gone. Just ghosts on your skin at this point. “Jimin?”

“Jimin went to get you food” Jungkooks says, grabbing a brush, bringing it through your hair. He likes that you let him take care of you like this now. Dress, feed, everything shy of bathing really. That you only let Jimin help with. It's like you think Jimin hasn't told him. About every single mark on your body.

You clearly don’t like that. The thought of Jimin being outside the house. If Jungkook is honest he’s not crazy about it either, Jimin is looking for answers though. Looking for targets and the mark. He's just started to talk about his next party. Jungkook was rich but if he was going to support the three of them he'd have to buckledown.

It's cute though. The way you keep telling them in one breath that they don't need to stay with you. That they can go back to their classes and then with the next clutching at their sleeves. It was sweet. The way you were trying so hard not to be selfish. To be a good girl for them. He goes to your closet and grabs you one of your pretty outfits you haven't touched for a week. “Can we try eating at the table?”

He watches your eyes go to the windows. “Do you want to know a secret?” he says pulling you shirt up over you. Jimin has put you in a matching set of the prettiest lace bralette and panties. They are mouth watering. They almost make you look like an angel. He helps you into the pretty shorts and long shirt. As you whimper ever so slightly from the way your body needs to move. He doesn't like the sound not exactly but he does like how willing you are to put your hurt body under his hands. You look up at him waiting for your secret. “The glass is bulletproof” you start to laugh. “I'm serious, and you still have the freebie”

You laugh, a sound too long absent sends thrills down his spine. It's easier for him to be expressive with you. Easter to mirror your excitement, or your pain. “yeah? Well what if I don't want to risk it?”

“And what would you be losing exactly? Be specific please” he helps you to your feet. He does like the way your legs wobble just a bit and you lean against him. The way you let him lead you wherever he wants. Even if right now it's only on the table. He and Jimin have cleaned the downstairs stairs. There are a few gouges in the wooden floors that you would know how to fix but he doesn't.

“My second favorite roommate and” you blush, stopping yourself.

“And what?” he prods.

“You make me feel safe. You're so strong and tall” and I'm not worried that you are going to fall apart. You don't say it. It's not fair to either of them. You think of your hazy memories of screaming at Jimin. Not able to tell who he was. What has cost him? What had that cost the two of you?

“Keep it coming. Tell me about my face!” he enjoys how loose your tongue is in your still slightly drugged state.

“The most beautiful one I've ever seen.” he gins at this and it's real. Almost completely.

“What about Jimins”

“That's not fair. Please Jungkook. Be nice. Be…. gentle with me ok?” the grin fades. He looks at you, his mask slipping again totally serious.

“I will always be gentle with you. I won't hurt you” he sees tears slip out and you wish you could have met them before they were dating. That your date to the party could have been Jungkook. That when you forgot to only drink things you poured yourself in the excitement it wouldn't matter because at Jungkook would have just carried you home.

“I… I didn't listen to you. You told me not to drink anything I didn't pour myself but. He just kept handing me drinks! It’s my fault! I should have known better” Jungkook pulls you up into his lap and rests his chin on your shoulder. The safest warmest blanket.

“Tell me what happened.” it's gentle, like he promised but it's a command. He wants it out of your mouth before Jimin gets back. He doesn't need to hear the details. Jungkook will edit for him. So he can spare him as much pain as he can

“When I got to the party my coworker ditched me. It was just me and my date” Jungkooks brow furrows. He thought your coworker was your date. “I didn’t know him very well. He… oh” yu realize you can do more than a name and a description. “I met him at the park. The man I bumped into. I'm not sure if he's the one who put the drug in my drink but” lets see who can make her bleed first.

Jungkook feels all the air leave his lungs. His grip on you tightens.

“I don't… remember everything” you say carefully “can't we wait? For Jimin? I don't want to say it twice” Jungkook thinks about it. About whether sparing Jimin this pain will be worth it. Their mark. If they had figured this this sooner.

“Of course.” he kisses your neck right over one of the bruises from a thumb if he had to guess. He texts Jimin. Telling him he needs to come home now. Telling him that the mark did this to you. He thinks back to the videos and the pictures. The way they touched those girls. He thinks about the video in particular.

The way when she woke up, she had woken up sobbing. Bleeding. They had made her say to the camera that she had liked it. Was there a video of you somewhere? He holds you even tighter. Probably too tight for your delicate body. You don't tell him no. You press yourself even closer to him. “Whatever you want, baby. Just tell me ok? Anything you want”

He wants you to tell him to destroy them. He’ll do it either way but he wants you to think it's your idea. He wants you to feel powerful. In control. Safe. He hears Jimin before you do. Here's the careful shift from his regular almost silent gate to the one for you. Loud enough that you hear.

You can't tell who it is. And you let out the tiniest moan. “It's Jimin. Just my Jimin” He mutters softly to you. “You are safe with him. Safe with me” Jimin waits a minute. Knocks and calls out to you letting you know he’s coming in.

He went to the diner. Got you all the same meals you had ordered. It was easy. He kept the receipt. One of his few treasures. You look at the food and suddenly never want to eat again. Jungkook's eyes arrow on as he shakes his head ever so slightly. A look passes over Jimin as he realizes the problem.

The food ends up in trash. He orders a pizza instead and takes the chair right in front of you. His chair is so close that his knees straddle yours. His hands go to your thighs and it would be sexual but things with Jimin so rarely are. It's why you are able to let him help you shower. It's intimate. So much about your relationship is.

“Will you tell us?” His voice is gentle and here in your living room practically surrounded by them swallowed up in their bodys you think you can do it.

“Will you hold my hand?” They don't know who you are talking to so they both take a hand. Good. you can keep them here keep them from doing something dumb.

“My date isn't my coworker. It's the guy I ran into at the park. The tall one?'' Jim's grip tightens. In his desperation he has pushed you onto that man. He had made you a target. Jungkook knows that's not true. Or at least not completely true. Jimin's eyes had narrowed. All his focus had been on getting details of the party. Not big enough to suit the clients as it was, it had instantly become unimportant to him. Jungkook had watched his mere proximity to you. His clear possessiveness had made you more appealing. More of a conquest.

“The first drink I poured myself! I promise” Jungkooks face buries further into your neck, thumbs rubbing just a little harder. Somewhere in the back of your mind you know this isn't how friends act. All those awful names they called you. Were they right?

“Nothing you say is going to get you into trouble” he whispers to you and Jimin leaning in even closer so close he’s all you can see. His pretty eyes and beautiful lips. This picture of perfection marred only by his worry.

“When I finished my drink suddenly there was another in my hands and I tried to reuse it but” how had he gotten you to drink you close your eyes trying to remember. The gaps are almost painful. Jimin watches your face scrunch up and wants to kiss you. To ease all the pain still lingering. “I could tell he was getting angry. He made me nervous and kept making little comments about how I was too good for his beer. How I was being a prude. So I” your face is so red.

How had you let him talk you into doing something you didn't want to do so easily. With so little coercion you had caved. Why because you were a little afraid of him? Because he had been rude to you? Jungkook presses another kiss on your neck and Jimin gives you a hand with a little squeeze.

“It was just a second drink and I saw him get it from the keg! I thought it would be fine! I'm sorry” Jungkook's hands are still on you.

“Don't. you. dare. you have nothing to apologize for” his voice is low and dangerous and it makes you catch your breath and the anger in it is suddenly oppressive. Jimin shoots him a warning look. Jungkooks thumbs start up again and he lets his posture relax just a bit. Pretending. He has to pretend for you that he’s not a monster.

“I got really tired and told him I wanted to go home. I tried to call you but I couldn't find my phone. I” you just look confused. “I don't know how I got upstairs. I remember on my shoes on the stairs” your pretty heels you never wore “ I tried to get it but” you let go of Jimin's hands and bring your own up to your face to look at the bruise. The bruise you hadn't been able to figure out. He stepped on you. “Oh. his boot” Jimin grabs your hand back and starts to kiss the bruise. You let him

You both pretend it makes it better.

“I think I passed out? I don't know! But the next thing I remember was them holding me down. One of them had a camera and one of them was holding my neck. They were calling me all sorts of names. Saying they were going to make me bleed.” you let out a choked sob.

“How many?'' Jungkook asks. He’s going to find that video. He's going to find it and watch it and he’s going to make sure he dismantles all of them.

“Four I think? I don't know, I couldn't tell. I don't think I was supposed to wake up. It surprised them and when I got up they were afraid to follow me. They didn't want the people downstairs to know who I was running from. I made it outside and someone grabbed me. Pulled me into the bushes. I bit him. He tasted like grease. Like someone who works on cars.” you try not to think about the fact that you coworker is always talking about the vintage cars he’s repairing.

“You were so brave. You did so well.'' Jungkook mutters again and he likes the way you almost preen under his words. You had been so worried when you confessed that he would agree with your attackers. That he would be angry with you for not listening to his warnings. “But you're keeping something back. What is it?”

“My coworker, he… I know he works on cars”

“Where did you bite him?'' You pull your house out of Jungkooks and touch his arm just under his elbow. Jungkook had suspected. They hadn't called you. They hadn't asked why you hadn't come into work. You were one of the few people left with a landline, an old rotary phone you liked to call them with whenever you had gotten the chance. They would have had no trouble reaching you if that was their goal.

“I'm going to take care of this” Jungook lifts you off his lap. You freeze and grab onto him with both hands.

“NO! What if they hurt you?! What if they” Jimin gets to his feet. He gently unwraps your fingers from Jungkook's shirt. “They said they were going to kill me! You should just leave, you're not stuck here and” Jungkook puts a finger to your lips, quieting you. So that was it. The threat that kept you silent. You were afraid for them. That's why you couldn’t let them out of your sight.'

“Will you come with us? I want you to see something.” you look at the door and Jimin can see you start to sweat.

“Are you sure Jimin. There is no going back” Jungkook says. His face is calm but he feels a storm inside. Having you feel safe might be worth it but what if you fear them? He doesn't think he can handle that. Not right now. What if you try to run? He would have to chase you of course. You didn't have the skill you would need to make a go of really running.

“Yes. please honey.”

“Not..there right? You don't need me to show you where it happened?” you know they are planning another party. You heard them talking about earlier this week. What if they’re there, what if he is there? Let's see who makes her bleed first. Jimin wraps his arms around you.

“You never have to see them again. Not there. Some place it’s just us.”

“Okay” you watch Jungkook grab a few things from the trash but you don't ask. They load you into the back seat. Jimin right beside you. Clearly you are nervous the second you are out of the house. Like it's the walls that kept you safe there.

Your unease grows as they take you down a road that quickly turns to a dearth path. It's overgrown and lets you know that no one would be able to find you here if you disappeared. Suddenly it hits you. How little you know about them. How far into your life you have let them.

Jungkooks face in the mirror is completely still. You had seen it before but it's only now that you see it here that you realize how unnerving the emptiness there is. Maybe Jimin's fear wasn't because of how he had grown up. Jimin can feel your heart beat grow fast and fast under his touch. He looks up and sees why. Jungkook is letting you see him.

He knows it's making you nervous. Good. he has to reassure himself. It's good that this unnerves you. If you met someone else like him he would want you to run as fast and as far as you could. But he would show you. You did not have to be afraid of him. He pulls over. The rest would have to be on foot. He gets out and waits for you to follow.

You get out and do in fact follow but you don't reach out for him. He allows it until you almost trip over your own feet. Then he puts an arm around you. Jimin digs around the trunk. He grabs knives and guns. Glad you haven't turned around to look at him.

There is a little clearing up ahead that they have come to together before. Their place if there ever was one. Jungkook wonders if he should go first? He wants you to see what Jimin can do though. To be impressed, and then to see that he is even better.

You are so focused on your hands so unnerved by the sudden change in Jungkook that you keep your eyes fixed on your hands. It worries Jungkook just a bit. He won't hurt you but what if you were with someone else? One of his coworkers or worse, one of Jimins? He tilts your chin up and you frown at Jimin setting up cans so far down the clearing you can only tell what they are by the way they glint in the dying sun.

It's not until he’s about three meters away that you see what's in his hand. You’ve never seen one in real life before, but the gun glints in the sun too in a way that makes it impossible to miss. Impossible to misunderstand.

Before you are even aware of what you're doing you try and get away from the log that you and Jungkook have perched upon. You don't even make it to your feet. Jungkook looks at you very seriously. “Where would you even go?”. His sweet doll who let herself be led down a dirt path. If they wanted to hurt you? What on earth could you do to stop them.

“Why does he have a gun?” You voice is pleading. You don't want to die. You tremble in Jungkook's grasp

“To show you.” he puts his hands over your ears and turns your head. Jimin is so close to you that you can see how steady his hands are. Each shot makes you jump and gasp and they both know it's in fear. When he’s done he carefully sets the gun on the ground and grabs your hand up.

Your shaking like fucking leaf and your eyes don't leave the gun. Jimin pulls you along so you can see the bullet holes in each one. He makes you touch them. He pulls you back to Jungkook and pulls out a knife. It's huge and he opens it holding it out too.

You take it after hesitating. “Stab me”

“What? No Jimin, I don't want to do this!” you try to drop the knife but Jungkook grabs your hand and doesn't let you.

“ you need to understand” Jimin insists.

“No!” Jungkook smiles at you. You are terrified of Jimin but still you are willing to dissabay him just to keep him safe. Jimin's right though you do need to know. Jungkook picks up the gun and you flinch back as far as you can go, your hand still in his.

“Either you try and stab him. Or I am going to try and shoot him” it wouldn't be as effective. Jimin could probably still doge but it might make him look like a shit shot. He really can't have that. He aims the gun at Jimin and you start to cry. He’ll wipe those away later. When you understand. You try and bring the knife down on him and he disarms you so quick, has you on the ground before you're aware of what's happened.

He’s taken all of the impact of the motion. It's not the most efficient disarming he's ever done but judging by how wide your eyes are. How startled you are, it doesn't matter much. He pulls you up and sets you back down on the log. “Don't look away baby” Jungkooks says. Jimin tosses the knife from hand to hand. “Jimin, I want you to really try. Who knows maybe things have changed”

“Fuck you Jungkook. I always try” the little twerp actually sounds annoyed. Jungkook's blank face has gone to something different. If you had to guess at it you would guess it, aroused. Jimin lunges at him. Disarming Jimin is far more difficult than him disarming you.

Jungkook is absolutely delighted when Jimin draws a long cut on one of his cheeks. He’s getting better. In the end it doesn't matter, he had pins to the ground legs wrapped around Jimin's torso and both of his wrists pinned in one of his long arms. He gropes for the gun behind him and brings it up to his forehead. “Bang sweetheart” Jimin thrashes benteith him. Pissed that once again he’s lost. Jungkook puts his lips where previously he’s only kissed with the tip of his gun.

He twists suddenly and fires multiple shots. The trajectory is so close to you that you feel the wind on your face. Your color gets alarmingly pale and Jimin jabs Jungkook in the ribs eliciting an angry yelp. Jungkook let's go and sets the gun down again. You turn and look at the smiley face he’s shot into a tree behind you.

When you turn back around, Jungkook is right in front of your face. You didn't even hear him move and you have no idea where Jimin is. You feel something drawn across your neck for a second you think it is a knife. Its just his finger. His hand rests on your shoulder. You have gone perfectly still.

“I don't understand, are you cops or something?'' You whisper, not inhaling any breath, after speaking. You're afraid to break the tension. Jungkook is not, he chuckles.

“I told you what I was the day I met you baby”Jungkook's hands go to the sides of your face gentle and his thumbs wipe at the tears that keep flowing. “The men who touched you are dead. They just don't know it yet”

Jimin comes around so you can see him too and Jungkook draws back so you can see them both. “I exposed you like this. I did this to you. Your date was our mark and I let you see him. I pushed you into him and. I'm sorry”

“Why did you do that?!” you look horrified and Jungkook opens his mouth to correct him. To make it clear that if your coworker was involved you might have been a target either way.

“I didn't know who your date was! I swear I didn't know it was his party I needed to get details for tonight's party”

“For money?” you look at Jimin so clearly hurt “ you used me as bait to make”

“No! It wasn't supposed to happen like that! He wasn't supposed to see you again!” you close your eyes. They had both offered to come. Ok maybe you can believe them but still. He pushed you.

“The people I work for”

“Worked” Jungkook corrects in that tone that even now increases your fear and makes your attention go to him.

“They get mad if I don’t perform well. I didn't want them to shock me and I didn't want them to touch you and” you head snaps back to Jimin and your eyes narrow. Jimin actually recoils at the anger there. Of course it's there. He exposed you to not one but two sets of monsters. “I'm sorry I didn't mean for this to happen I’ll make it right we just need you to listen. Jungkook said he would help and”

“They shocked you?” Jimin's eyes are glassy too. He doesn't think he can handle you telling him it was nothing. Or worse not believing.

“They are bad people. They shock me and used me but it doesn't matter we can make them leave you alone”

“What exactly does that mean Jimin!”

“I don't know. He said… he makes threats and you were there and” you think back to the way Jimin would react when made even the smallest of mistakes. The way his hands cross over his body in a defensive manner. used me. His unconscious body. Your arms shoot out and you hold on to him, your sobbing renewed.

How could anyone do that to him?! Who the fuck where they and he. Who the fuck was the he that made Jimin who could do everything you had just seen fall apart?

You look at Jungkook as Jimin relaxes into you. Kneeling in front of you as you absolve him of his guilt. This is not Jimin's fault. “I want to use my freebee”

#bts reader insert #bts reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #reader x jimin #jimin x reader #assault #non consensual touching #bts x reader #violence #bts angst #bts fanfiction #voyuerism

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finneganmikkelsen9 · 2 years

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qqueenofhades · 3 years

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Do you really hate this county? Or were you just ranting?

Sigh. I debated whether or not to answer this, since I usually keep the real-life/politics/depressing current events to a relative minimum on this blog, except when I really can't avoid ranting about it. But I have some things to get off my chest, it seems, and you did ask. So.

The thing is, any American with a single modicum of genuine historical consciousness knows that despite all the triumphalist mythology about Pulling Up By Our Bootstraps and the American Dream and etc, this country was founded and built on the massive and systematic exploitation and extermination of Black and Indigenous people. And now, when we are barely (400 years later!!!) getting to a point of acknowledging that in a widespread way, oh my god the screaming. I'm so sick of the American right wing I could spit for so many reasons, not least of which is the increasingly reductive and reactive attempts to put the genie back in the bottle and set up hysterical boogeymen about how Teaching Your Children Critical Race Theory is the end of all things. They have forfeited all pretense of being a real governing party; remember how their only platform at the 2020 RNC was "support whatever Trump says?" They have devolved to the point where the cruelty IS the point, to everyone who doesn't fit the nakedly white supremacist mold. They don't have anything to do aside from attempt to usher in actual, literal, dictionary-definition-of-fascism and sponsor armed revolts against the peaceful transfer of power.

That is fucking exhausting to be aware of all the time, especially with the knowledge that if we miss a single election cycle -- which is exceptionally easy to do with the way the Democratic electorate needs to be wooed and courted and herded like cats every single time, rather than just getting their asses to the polls and voting to keep Nazis out of office -- they will be right back in power again. If Manchin and Sinema don't get over their poseur pearl-clutching and either nuke the filibuster or carve out an exception for voting rights, the John Lewis Voting Rights Act is never going to get passed, no matter how many boilerplate appeals the Democratic leadership makes on Twitter. In which case, the 2022 midterms are going to give us Kevin McCarthy, Speaker of the House (I threw up in my mouth a little typing that) and right back to the Mitch McConnell Obstruction Power Hour in the Senate. The Online Left (TM) will then blame the Democrats for not doing more to stop them. These are, of course, the same people who refused to vote for Hillary Clinton out of precious moral purity reasons in 2016, handed the election to Trump, and now like to complain when the Trump-stacked Supreme Court reliably churns out terrible decisions. Gee, it's almost like elections have consequences!!

Aside from my exasperation with the death-cult right-wing fascists and the Online Left (TM), I am sick and tired of how forty years of "trickle-down" Reaganomics has created a world where billionaires can just fly to space for the fun of it, while the rest of America (and the world) is even more sick, poor, overheated, economically deprived, and unable to survive the biggest public health crisis in a century, even if half the elected leadership wasn't actively trying to sabotage it. Did you know that half of American workers can't even afford a one-bedroom apartment? Plus the obvious scandal that is race relations, health care, paid leave, the education system (or lack thereof), etc etc. I'm so tired of this America Is The Greatest Country in the World mindless jingoistic catchphrasing. We are an empire in the late stages of collapse and it's not going to be pretty for anyone. We have been poisoned on sociopathic-libertarian-selfishness-disguised-as-Freedom ideology for so long that that's all there is left. We have become a country of idiots who believe everything their idiot friends post on social media, but in a very real sense, it's not directly those individuals' fault. How could they, when they have been very deliberately cultivated into that mindset and stripped of critical thinking skills, to serve a noxious combination of money, power, and ideology?

I am tired of the fact that I have become so drained of empathy that when I see news about more people who refused to get the vaccine predictably dying of COVID, my reaction is "eh, whatever, they kind of deserved it." I KNOW that is not a good mindset to have, and I am doing my best to maintain my personal attempts to be kind to those I meet and to do my small part to make the world better. I know these are human beings who believed what they were told by people that they (for whatever reason) thought knew better than them, and that they are part of someone's family, they had loved ones, etc. But I just can't summon up the will to give a single damn about them (I'm keeping a bingo card of right-wing anti-vax radio hosts who die of COVID and every time it's like, "Alexa, play Another One Bites The Dust.") The course that the pandemic took in 21st-century America was not preordained or inevitable. It was (and continues to be) drastically mismanaged for cynical political reasons, and the legacy of the Former Guy continues to poison any attempts to bring it under control or convince people to get a goddamn vaccine. We now have over 100,000 patients hospitalized with COVID across the country -- more than last summer, when the vaccines weren't available.

I have been open about my fury about the devaluation of the humanities and other critical thinking skills, about the fact that as an academic in this field, my chances of getting a full-time job for which I have trained extensively and acquired a specialist PhD are... very low. I am tired of the fact that Americans have been encouraged to believe whatever bullshit they fucking please, regardless of whether it is remotely true, and told that any attempt to correct them is "anti-freedom." I am tired of how little the education system functions in a useful way at all -- not necessarily due to the fault of teachers, who have to work with what they're given, and who are basically heroes struggling stubbornly along in a profession that actively hates them, but because of relentless under-funding, political interference, and furious attempts, as discussed above, to keep white America safely in the dark about its actual history. I am tired of the fact that grade school education basically relies on passing the right standardized tests, the end. I am tired of the implication that the truth is too scary or "un-American" to handle. I am tired. Tired.

I know as well that "America" is not synonymous in all cases with "capitalist imperialist white-supremacist corporate death cult." This is still the most diverse country in the world. "America" is not just rich white middle-aged Republicans. "America" involves a ton of people of color, women, LGBTQ people, Muslims, Jews, Christians of good will (I have a whole other rant on how American Christianity as a whole has yielded all pretense of being any sort of a principled moral opposition), white allies, etc etc. all trying to make a better world. The blue, highly vaccinated, Biden-winning states and counties are leading the economic recovery and enacting all kinds of progressive-wishlist dream policies. We DID get rid of the Orange One via the electoral process and avert fascism at the ballot box, which is almost unheard-of, historically speaking. But because, as also discussed above, certain elements of the Democratic electorate need to fall in love with a candidate every single time or threaten to withhold their vote to punish the rest of the country for not being Progressive Enough, these gains are constantly fragile and at risk of being undone in the next electoral cycle. Yes, the existing system is a crock of shit. But it's what we've got right now, and the other alternative is open fascism, which we all got a terrifying taste of over the last four years. I don't know about you, but I really don't want to go back.

So... I don't know. I don't know if that stacks up to hate. I do hate almost everything about what this country currently is, structurally speaking, but I recognize that is not identical with the many people who still live here and are trying to do their best, including my friends, family, and myself. I am exhausted by the fact that as an older millennial, I am expected to survive multiple cataclysmic economic crashes, a planet that is literally boiling alive, a barely functional political system run on black cash, lies, and xenophobia, a total lack of critical thinking skills, renewed assaults on women/queer people/POC/etc, and somehow feel like I'm confident or prepared for the future. Not all these problems are only America's fault alone. The West as a whole bears huge responsibility for the current clusterfuck that the world is in, for many reasons, and so do some non-Western countries. But there is no denying that many of these problems have ultimate American roots. See how the ongoing fad for right-wing authoritarian strongmen around the world has them modeling themselves openly on Trump (like Brazil's lunatic president, Jair Bolsonaro, who talks all the time about how Trump is his political role model). See what's going on in Afghanistan right now. Etc. etc.

Anyway. I am very, very tired. There you have it.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #covid for ts #i had a lot to say evidently #rant

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fatehbaz · 3 years

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This was how the initial TEAM coalition was built among the Muscogee (Creek), Chickasaw, Seminole, Osage, Citizen Potawatomi, Eastern Shawnee, and Miami tribal nations. [...]

TEAM, now known as the Tribal Alliance for Pollinators, or TAP, is now a well-oiled [...] machine. [...] According to the TAP website, the tribal coalition is responsible for planting 50,000 milkweeds and 30,000 native wildflowers, which stand in addition to the 142 seed types the collective now has stored at a seed bank at the Euchee Butterfly Farm.

TAP began with a handful of people deciding that tribal nations could, and should, step into the void the federal and state governments had left on monarch conservation. Now it’s looking like it could be a model for conservation efforts far beyond a single species. [...] What TAP has managed to do, in just a few short years, is alter how tribal nations in Oklahoma view the lands they maintain control over.

Tribal nations like the Eastern Shawnee have since published their plans for pollinator restoration programs. The Chickasaw Nation has created as efficient a milkweed planting program as exists in the nation. [...]

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Every winter, monarch butterflies across the northern corners of the continent fly south to the mountains of central Mexico. The migration pattern -- which, for some, stretches over 3,000 miles -- is a natural wonder, not replicated by any other butterfly in the world. Nobody knows how the monarchs’ homing system works; the butterflies that return to Mexico are often the great-grandchildren of those who made the trip the year before. Many of the winged creatures fly through Iowa, Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas before plunging through Mexico. And, as has now been widely reported, many are dying before they can complete the full trip. [...]

Monarchs cover the vegetation of their Mexican winter territory so densely that it’s easier to count them by area than insect-by-insect. Last week [February 2021], researchers in Mexico announced that the winter monarch population had dropped by 25 percent between 2019 and 2020, declining from 2.6 hectares to 2.1 hectares. In 2018, the monarchs covered 6.1 hectares. In the 1990s, they regularly covered 20 hectares. Something is going very wrong.

The issue, which he has documented extensively on Monarch Watch’s blog and acknowledged in our conversation as being “pretty complex,” is basically about food. Monarch butterflies have, for centuries, relied on milkweed and nectar plants -- in Oklahoma and Kansas, this includes sunflowers, ironweed, coneflower, and a host of others -- to fuel their journey up and down the continent. With no milkweed or nectar-rich options to restore their fat reserves, monarchs can’t fly -- and if they can’t fly, they can’t migrate or serve their role as pollinators. But landowners often see milkweed as an annoying weed and remove it using herbicide.

There is also the issue of reduction via overgrazing on cattle lands -- which is a problem given that the butterflies’ traditional path takes them through Oklahoma and Texas, two states that lead the nation both in terms of beef production and cattle population.

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For those who have been observing and researching the monarchs for decades, like Dr. Chip Taylor, head of Monarch Watch at the University of Kansas, the numbers are troubling but not surprising. Taylor, who has been studying pollinators since 1969 and monarchs in particular since he started Monarch Watch in 1992, nearly predicted this year’s drop on the nose [...]. Breckinridge sent Taylor an email, asking for his help in creating a monarch migration trail through tribal lands in Oklahoma. Taylor agreed to lend a hand, but he warned Breckinridge that a “capacity issue” might arise. “He said, ‘You don’t have the milkweed seed resources, you don’t have the nectar plant seed resources, you don’t have any of that locally sourced. And that’s how we do restoration work. You don’t have greenhouses or hoop houses that are willing to grow the seeds out in organic, pesticide-free environments. [...]’“

Breckenridge, undaunted, joined with Taylor to found Tribal Environmental Action for Monarchs, or TEAM. The idea was to create a coalition among the tribal nations along the migratory path, which required a hefty organizing plan. [...] A few months later, that same consultant introduced Breckinridge to Dr. Carol Crouch, a Salish Kootenai citizen and Oklahoma’s state-tribal liaison for the USDA’s National Resources Conservation Service. [...] Along with her husband and her mother, Breckinridge spent three years driving across the state with Taylor, visiting any and all tribal communities that would have her. Crouch’s support offered the legitimacy she needed to get TEAM’s foot in the door. And on those trips, Taylor helped Breckinridge see the scope of the man-made problem. [...]

Bermuda grass as far as the eye could see. Entire ranges grazed down to the nub. Lawn after lawn of nonnative grasses, the product of over-normalized herbicide treatments. The casual but vast destruction of the monarch habitat was impossible to unsee, and it fueled Breckinridge’s sense of urgency. By the end of that initial outreach phase, she had put over 30,000 miles on her car. [...]

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When it came to building that coalition, the Euchee farm’s central location in the state -- “two hours away from everything,” Breckenridge said -- helped. “For instance, maybe the Citizen Potawatomi Nation can’t get an expert on organic pest management and greenhouses to come in and speak to them,” Breckinridge said. “But if TAP contacts the university and says, ‘We’re going to have 20 different tribes there, it’s going to be 40 people, can you come in and present and provide guidance on these issues?’ we can get all sorts of really interesting people participating.” [...]

As Breckinridge noted in our conversation, the message she heard from environmentalists and conservationists while living in the Twin Cities was almost entirely focused on leaving land and resources wild and untouched. But that is not how the land was prior to colonization, when Indigenous nations and communities across the country actively managed and stewarded their natural relatives. “Being a Native person, land is not something separate,” Breckinridge said. “We live here, we’re a part of it.”

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Headline, images, captions, and text published by: Nick Martin. “The Tribal Coalition Fighting to Save Monarch Butterflies.” New Republic. 4 March 2021.

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dtrhwithalex · 3 years

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TV | Leverage (Season 2, Rewatch)

Rewatch of the second season of TNT's LEVERAGE (2008-2012), created by John Rogers and Chris Downey together with Dean Devlin and his production company Electric Entertainment.

In anticipation of the show's reboot / revival / sequel LEVERAGE: REDEMPTION coming to IMDbTV on 09 July this year, I am rewatching the original 77 episodes and writing about my favourite moments and things from each episode, season by season.

201: THE BEANTOWN BAILOUT JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 15 July 2009.

We here at the Rabbit Hole adore the Beantown Bailout Job very much (and by we I mean me). It is such a great season-opener and everything about it sets up the season so nicely. Also let me just say, I love the cheesy intro. I like to imagine that this plays on whatever website the clients usually end up finding the team. It would be so confusing. And wonderful.

This episode, of course, also introduces another of my favourite characters: Lt. Patrick Bonanno, State Police. And I am very sad that there is zero chance we'll ever get to see him in the reboot, since the wonderful Robert Blanche has unfortunately passed away last year. Bonanno was such a fantastic addition to this show and I love him very much. He is just brilliant in every episode he is in.

Aside from the introduction of Bonanno, Beantown is a brilliant episode for various reasons, but I wanna talk about this one most of all. John Rogers talked about this on his blog, I think -- not one member of the team can come straight out and admit that they need the others. It is the impromptu meeting at Sophie's performance that brings them together again (very much against Nate's best attempts). Only once they're at McRory's and Parker suggests stealing something to cheer up Sophie is when they all fess up and tell Nate that they want this team back together again. And then, of course, we have one of my favourite sequences in this entire show: Nate forcefully being bullied back into this family. They do exactly what he did to them in The Second David Job -- they get him to contribute knowledge to the case that they, allegedly, lack. And he knows what they're doing, of course, he's not an idiot. Well played, indeed.

I would also like to personally thank one Nadine Haders, this show's most brilliant costume designer, for every single piece of clothing she put on Christian Kane for this episode. That green sweater with the brown jeans jacket? All my love to you, Nadine. All of it. Also, uncharacteristically, Nate has some very good looks in this episode (the man looks healthy for once!) and I am unreasonably mad about it (actually, he has some very good looks this entire season).

One last thing: I would like to have a word with whoever decided to play the Andy Lange song here that Sophie's departure in The Two Live Crew Job is set to. It makes this first half of the season a circle. Who do I need to have words with? Who?

202: THE TAP-OUT JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: ALBERT KIM. Original Air Date: 22 July 2009.

An absolutely amazing episode for Eliot but also very much for Sophie. They are the Conference Of Mom Friends, and I adore them very much, thank you. It is a fantastic episode for them individually, but especially also for the specific relationship these two people have. There is an amazing post floating around on this website (this one here) talking exactly about this episode and Eliot and Sophie in the role of protectors in their team, their family.

There are a few scenes here that I really like and really, most of them are about or with Eliot. I love in the briefing at the hotel that Eliot does not just dismiss Sophie's misunderstanding of wrestling, but takes the time to explain to her what the sport is about -- and she listens. We also here get a nice glimpse at the fact that Eliot teaches them certain fighting skills and self-defence techniques, which I just love so much. Just as Sophie coaches them all in their grifts, he makes sure that they all have a certain know-how in fighting and protecting themselves. It's so good.

I am also very fond of both the moment where Eliot brings Sophie to the restaurant to meet with Rucker, but also Sophie showing up at the gym at night to talk to Eliot while he's preparing for the fight against Tank. Eliot gives away so much of himself in this episode, and it is very interesting to me that the person he does this with is, continually, Sophie. The others may be on comms, and might be, for all we know, listening in, but it is Sophie he tells these things to. It's like Hardison says later in The Two Live Crew Job: "We trust Nate to make sure the plan works, we trust you (Sophie) to make sure we're all okay." While I would not necessarily call Sophie the heart of the group (that's Hardison), she is very much the emotional centre of it.

This episode is also just very lovely to see how they all take to an environment that is, for once, not big city life. Eliot takes to it immediately, which makes sense, because he probably is from a town not much different from this one. Parker, somehow, fits in immediately as well (I love her I <3 Nebraska shirt). I feel like Nate never has any issues fitting in anywhere, he just takes things as they come. It is Hardison and Sophie who have difficulties -- Sophie because she is, after all, a bit posh and needs certain standards met, and Hardison because his world of technology does not mix well with a small, rural Midwestern town ("Can't hack a hick" anyone?).

203: THE ORDER 23 JOB

D: ROD HARDY. W: CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 29 July 2009.

I occasionally see some posts on here that call what the team does to Charles Dodgson in 512: The White Rabbit Job the worst thing the team does to a mark. I have to say, objectively, I think what they do to Eddie Maranjian in this episode is much worse. Of course, Dodgson is a good person, and Eddie is a crook, but still. Objectively? This episode is more evil.

Anyway, this episode has some fantastic moments that I adore a whole lot. I love Eliot and Hardison as cops, Sophie's act is absolutely amazing, and I have a super soft spot for both Nate teaching Parker what he is doing, and also Eliot and his side quest of helping Randy.

I am so incredibly fond of all these little moments where Parker's eventual role of Mastermind is already being planted. She always asks Nate questions, if she doesn't have a part to play in the con, she is with Nate, learning. She says it in the pilot episode already: "I'm really good at one thing, only one thing, that's it. But you, you know other things, and I can't stop doing my one thing, can't retire." And then she does her best to learn the other things Nate knows. This episode particularly, how Nate explains to her how NLP works, that what he is selling is fear. Nate is so patient with her, too. I love them both so very much.

Eliot's side quest with Randy and his abusive dad is an absolutely excellent addition to this episode. Especially after the previous Eliot-centric episode, this small thing just goes to show that, at their core, these are good people. Yes, they are criminals, the lot of them. But they are not bad people. Things like this just make me think that, it had to have been this exact combination of people Dubenich put together. Any other thief, any other hacker, and Nate would have walked away from this alone. It had to be Parker, Hardison and Eliot for this to work exactly as it did. And Eliot looking out for Randy even though they are in the middle of a con, taking his time to make sure Bob, the U.S. Marshall goes to see Randy, is exactly something that brings this point home.

Lastly, I adore that everyone shows up at the court house when Eddie goes to find his money. He knows they all conned him, but they know no one is ever going to believe him. It's a fantastic gloat scene. And I also really love that Nate explains why this works to the others: "So, here's everything you need to know about criminal law. Every crime has two elements, Actus reus, the act itself, and mens rea, Literally "The Guilty Mind." ... Now, for escape, the prisoner has to both break out of custody and show the intent to escape. ... Which brings us back to our friend Eddie and how the brain reacts to fear. In the heat of the moment Eddie didn't ask himself a simple question, who would doubt his guilty mind?"

204: THE FAIRY GODPARENTS JOB

D: JONATHAN FRAKES. W: AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 05 August 2009.

This one was Bernie Madoff inspired, if I recall correctly, who was arrested in 2008, around the time Berg, Downey and Rogers were already bouncing ideas back and forth for this season.

There is so much to love in this episode! Where to even begin. Maybe with Parker replacing Sophie at the client meeting? Or Sophie immediately heading for both popcorn and the cookie tin after the breakup? How about Parker perching on Eliot's arm rest with her food? Nate's headmaster act? Eliot as Coach Brewer (red is a fantastic colour on him, thank you Nadine)? Hipster rich newlyweds Parker and Hardison? The return of my beloved FBI fools McSweetheart and Taggert? Taggert being McSweetheart's biggest supporter in his affection for Parker? Sophie and Widmark? The actual science-sical with all these adorable kids singing about science?

So much to love. Chock-full of greatness, this episode. Also Frakes, once again, directed the hell outta this. I love this episode so very much.

One moment that does, however, absolutely win out over everything else, is the scene at Nate's apartment after Hardison and Parker meet McSweeten and Taggert again:

Eliot: One of you two can identify the gunman, right? Hardison: Oh, yeah, sure. He stopped and let me take a picture of him as I was chasing him. Eliot: Hey, you know what, man? I've been around little kids all day. I don't need to come home and do all this crap.

That line, Mr Spencer? "I don't need to come home and do all this crap"? Home? Sir, we are four episodes into the second season, and you are already calling Nate's apartment home. Honestly, that boy has been invested into this group as a family from the moment Hardison hands him a check in the pilot episode, if not earlier. And I am very much here for all of it.

205: THE THREE DAYS OF THE HUNTER JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: MELISSA GLENN & JESSICA RIEDER (GRASL). Original Air Date: 12 August 2009.

This is another one of those episodes which, when I think about it, I am not entirely into, but then when I watch it, I always love it. It's a brilliant episode, but the mark rubs me in all the wrong ways and I think that's why my general reaction to this episode in theory is mostly "ew". Which I think is kind of the point, as well.

There is much to love in this episode, though. Sophie being Nate in this one, Nate being very wary of this concept and also having difficulties letting someone else take control ("If you don't mind, I would still do the 'Hardison, run it' thing" Nathan you precious little man, I love you so much). I think it's so nicely done. I mean Sophie has run cons before -- she was the Mastermind behind the First David Job, and she runs their con in the Second David Job as well -- but then she was confident, now she is going through things, on the brink of rediscovering herself for who she is. And of course, it bites her in the ass a little bit.

I absolutely adore Conspiracy Nut Hardison and his fantastic apartment. Set Design did a magnificent job here. I am so fond of Parker asking Eliot about the different things -- the council, the moon landing, Loch Ness monster -- and also very much the bit at the end where he and Hardison answer Parker's questions while he prepares food. That ending bit overall is just absolutely excellent and I love it with my whole heart. Eliot cooking for all of them in Nate's kitchen, giving Parker stuff to try, while Hardison sits there and sips his orange soda out of a wine glass. Meanwhile Nate pouring wine for Sophie, and then going over to her to make sure she is alright. For his slightly more sadistic streak in this season, Nate is so good with Sophie here. And honestly I think this conversation here is one of the reasons why Sophie feels able to leave them for a while. It is Nate's reassurance of "Whatever you need, I'm here for you" that lets her take this leave of absence.

206: THE TOP HAT JOB

D: PETER O'FALLON. W: M. SCOTT VEACH & CHRISTINE BOYLAN. Original Air Date: 19 August 2009.

I adore this episode! The fantastic Veach and Boylan on the keyboard for this one (who, I've had to find out, are both tangentially involved with my latest hyperfixation, SHADOW AND BONE -- Veach having written my favourite episode, and Boylan being married to the showrunner), which is just lovely, because they are both excellent.

First off, I would like to, once again, give all my love to Nadine Haders for that Pizza Guy outfit she put Kane in for the recon sequence. A+ costuming, thank you Nadine.

This episode has so many excellent comedic beats and a wonderful many Hardison/Eliot moments. Sophie trying to set up Nate with their client is absolutely hysterical -- especially considering that she had just been broken up with and had been urging Nate to figure out what it is that is between them since day one. I especially love her attempt at finding things Nate has in common with Jameson: "She's a scientist. And well, you're a bit nerdy, aren't you? ... And food, she works with food. Well, you eat, don't you?" Like, girl, what are you trying to do here, really?

I absolutely adore Hardison and Eliot trying to get into the server room so Hardison can access the data they are trying to get before anyone can get rid of it. Eliot hooking Parker's rope to Hardison's belt, Eliot's complete awe at Hardison's ability to remote access their mark's phone ("You can do that?" Eliot, honey, he can do so much more), the two of them wedged underneath the desk, and then, of course, Eliot's huge smile when Hardison hacks the scanner at the door with the help of his gummy frogs. I love these boys together so much, and this episode has given me so many great moments.

I am also incredibly fond of Nate's magician act. That is a brilliant role and it suits him so well. And I love how genuinely enthusiastic he is about magic.

207: THE TWO LIVE CREW JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS & AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 26 August 2009.

This is an absolutely brilliant episode for so many different reasons. Let me get two things out of the way straight off the bat: 1) Where do I address my "Chaos For Leverage: Redemption" campaign to? and 2) Where do I address my "Apollo Robbins For Leverage: Redemption" campaign to? I want both of them back desperately!

Of course, this episode is important as a major stepping stone in Sophie's character arc. Because of Chaos and his bomb, she has to kill off one of her aliases which is the last thing that then leads to her taking a leave of absence to figure out who she is and who she wants to be. That scene in her apartment with the bomb is also just an excellent moment for the team as a family. The care with which everyone interacts with Sophie, Parker's instant pudding hack, Eliot's instructions on how defuse this situation, Sophie's immediate shift into protector mode once it becomes clear that the only real solution is to run and telling everyone to leave immediately, Nate staying behind and even when Sophie tells him to leave, waiting for her by the apartment door -- they care for each other so much.

I also really love the con-off with Starke's crew. It is so nice to see how similar yet different he and Nate are, and the same goes for the other crew members. I adore their individual confrontations a lot. Eliot's non-fight fight with Mikel Dayan, Parker's thief-off with Apollo, Hardison and Chaos' baby monitor fight. It just really highlights who our beloved characters are and what makes them them, now that we see them, metaphorically, in front of their mirror.

And then, of course, the actual heist is also just amazing. I adore that Starke chooses Nate as his alias to gain access, it is such a great move. Parker and Apollo talking in the ventilation shaft about birds is also just so lovely. And as an admirer of Eliot's arms, I am also very fond of his fight with Mikel. Good choices have been made, I appreciate all of them. The reveal at the end is also absolutely amazing. To beat them they had to save them? Brilliant.

Lastly, of course, Sophie's goodbye at the graveyard with Nate. What a spectacular moment. Also just, the visuals are so beautiful. I love the lighting here. And of course the return of Andy Lange's song, which is just perfect. I am so happy that this is the journey they decided to give Sophie when it became clear that Gina would not be able to be in the full seasons due to her pregnancy. They accommodated her so beautifully and gave Sophie such an amazing moment of character growth. This is why I love this show and the people who made it so much. All my love, to all of them.

208: THE ICE MAN JOB

D: JEREMIAH CHECHIK. W: CHRISTINE BOYLAN. Original Air Date: 02 September 2009.

We love The Ice Man Job! Another fantastic episode by one Christine Boylan who we love in this house. Our very first episode without Sophie being there, and it's a great one. I absolutely adore how they worked in moments with our favourite grifter in a way that so wonderfully accommodates Gina's pregnancy.

I absolutely adore the moments where all of them eventually end up calling Sophie. Parker, hiding underneath the bar after Nate tells her she'll be the grifter in this one, calling her mom Sophie in a panic without wanting the others to know, but still needing her advice and missing her so much. Then Eliot, calling to complain to his mom Sophie about Hardison going overboard again with the grift, needing the knowledge that his concerns are being heard and aren't unfounded, needs to hear the other protector of the family acknowledge his rightful fear that things will go sideways. And of course also Hardison, calling mom Sophie so she can pick him up from the party help him out of the mess he's made, hoping against all hope that she'll be able to help without having to involve Nate. The others both had the luxury to ask Sophie not to tell Nate -- Hardison had no other choice but to let her call it in. Lastly, Nate too, at the end, calling his wife Sophie. And honestly, I love that Sophie drops her phone into her drink after the call, because Nate is the only one not giving her what she wants to hear. The kids, all of them, called with an "I need you" and that is the one thing Nate doesn't give her.

There are many other things in this episode that I love very much. The opening briefing, Parker feeling alone on the big empty couch, trying to sit next to Eliot, but he makes her move. Nate's big DadTM moment of "Eliot, can you please sit next to Parker" and Eliot's very long-suffering oldest child answer "No! I'm sitting here now."

Then of course Eliot and Hardison's two moments -- Eliot telling Hardison "I ain't bailing your ass out" and then when he eventually does anyway, Hardison's smug joy, forcing Eliot to sort-of-hug him back at McRory's. Eliot's unsuccessful attempt to make him helping Hardison a decision forced onto him by Parker, and Parker refusing to accept the "blame" immediately. Their whole dynamic this episode is just so good. Neither Eliot nor Parker being happy with Hardison in this role (Parker's refusal to ride with him in the Ferrari), Eliot proudly watching Parker do her thing over the security camera ("Stuck it!").

Lots of love also to Pasha Lychnikoff as our main Russian goon, who is just fantastic here, our much beloved Lt. Patrick Bonanno, and also Nadine Haders for so many amazing looks, especially on Eliot.

209: THE LOST HEIR JOB

D: PETER WINTHER. W: CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 09 September 2009.

Court-room episode, which means we have our friend Chris Downey on the keys here, and he gave us an absolutely excellent introduction for Tara Cole played by the lovely Jeri Ryan. Honestly, the more often I watch this episode, the better it gets. Tara is just so good.

Highlights of this episode include: Sophie's immediate "who died?!" when Nate shows up at her apartment in London, Hardison playing "Where is Waldo Ford," Hardison and Eliot in prison, the first appearance of Nate's lawyer alias Jimmy Papadokalis who wears brilliantly loud and obnoxious suits in outrageous colour-combinations, Hardison stalling Blanchard at court security with his keys, Nate's reveal of Ruth as Kimball's daughter (I am fascinated that he completely drops the character here -- he is just Nate now), and of course, the reveal of Tara at the end.

Honestly, this is such a magnificent episode to introduce Tara's character. We have just watched the team scramble and fuck up without Sophie, and then their next job gets more complicated because of this random lawyer who shows up. And she's so righteous and law-abiding and absolutely not someone they should be taking with them on their job. And Tara plays it perfectly. Her honest try at getting Orson to talk to them, her confusion about her "dogs", her excited smile when she gets to con Blanchard and be a bit dishonest -- it is so good. And then we get that complete 180° when the team finds her in Nate's apartment. Not just visually, but the personality. Her voice drops a bit too. Jeri fucking rocked this introduction. The reveal is so damn good.

210: THE RUNWAY JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: ALBERT KIM. Original Air Date: 13 January 2010.

I have zero interest in fashion but I honest to God love every single one of these characters at fashion week. Fashion!Eliot is absolutely fantastical and I love him. Julien, my beloved. Fashion!Parker is very cute with her braid and even before she gets the model makeover she outshines every single other person at the event. Fashion!Hardison is surprisingly understated but I dig it. Tara as Caprina is also just excellent. And I absolutely, un-ironically adore Fashion!Nate. Jacques is such a character. Nate exchanged the usual "obnoxious and greasy" with "gay," slapped some would-be-French that sounds like German on top of it, and called it a character. And I love it.

I also very much love the three video calls with Sophie in this episode. The kids calling in the beginning, complaining about Tara. I absolutely adore both the "she's hot" moment and Eliot's "...and all the way to Europe?" when Sophie says Nate lets what is good for him walk out the door. Parker's little "I just miss you" before they hang up has me all the way up in my emotions every damn time. Tara calling Sophie to complain about Nate is also just excellent. The whole bit with Nate's "I'm sexy because I'm broken" thing is just *chef's kiss*. And of course Nate's call at the end. I love that Sophie hangs up on him, it is so fair, it is absolutely justified. And I think he knows that too.

So many great other moments too -- Hardison's Steven Seagal comment about Eliot's clothes, Nate's "Julien, sweetheart" and Eliot's little clap before taking the money, Nate and Parker at the mark's house, Eliot and Tara vs the Triads, Eliot and Parker at fashion week together ("It's a fashion show, not Thieves'R'Us"), and of course Tara's "For what it's worth, Sophie was right. You guys are the best I've ever seen ... But no one in the world, is as good as you think you are."

211: THE BOTTLE JOB

D: JONATHAN FRAKES. W: CHRISTINE BOYLAN. Original Air Date: 20 January 2010.

This episode has got to be one of my favourites, if I were forced to chose some. I love a bottle episode, and this one is just magnificent. Excellent client, great mark, fantastic additional characters, wonderful episode for the team. All around just, so good. Not surprising if Frakes and Boylan are at the wheel together, of course.

The addition of Cora is so lovely. I would have loved to see more of her, to be honest. She is such a great character. I love what her presence does to who we see Nate as. I adore when characters get to show new sides of themselves, it's so nice. Also, Nate's comment to Eliot about him not wanting Eliot to like Cora because she's like his niece? Most excellent.

I adore our three police officers too. Mickey, Danny and Johnny are such great additions. I really liked them. How they just went with whatever Nate was planning and in the end decided to just pretend none of this ever happened, it's just so good.

Doyle and the Liams as our villains of the week are also just fantastic. Also I just love Irish accents, it sounds so good. I love to hear it.

Other highlights of this episode include: Tara's "I'm Trish and I'm lonely", the kids going for their individual emergency funds stashed in Nate's place (they are all so fantastically in character, I love it), Nate using his dad's name as his alias, everyone stopping to see if Nate is going to succumb to the booze again, Hardison's excitement about pulling off the wire in under 2h, Hardison faking the weather, Eliot and Parker on safe duty. Also, rewatching this episode, I am absolutely 100% convinced that what Eliot is doing to distract the Liams from Tara conning Doyle, absolutely categorises as flirting. The way he throws that dart at the board and then buys them beer? Mr Spencer, sir, you are flirting with these guys.

212: THE ZANZIBAR MARKETPLACE JOB

D: JEREMIAH CHECHIK. W: MELISSA GLENN & JESSICA RIEDER (GRASL). Original Air Date: 27 January 2010.

The wonder twins with yet another magnificent episode. No surprises here. We have not just the return of Maggie but also of Sterling! We love this!!! (Seriously, I want both of them back in the reboot. I don't care that they're most closely tied to Nate. Bring them back.)

This episode has so many absolutely excellent moments as well. I love the opening sequence in the bar, with them going over possible next clients together, Nate kicking Eliot for flirting with the bartender, and then of course also Sterling walking in. The interaction Nate and Eliot have here is just fantastic.

Sterling: *walks in* Nate: Eliot, I'm gonna ask you not do do anything violent. Eliot: Wha-what are you talking about? I only use violence as an appropriate response. Sterling: Hello, Nate. Eliot: *responds appropriately*

And to think that Sterling only gets beat up here because Mark Sheppard's son was visiting the set that day and wanted to see his dad get beat up by Eliot. We stan one Sheppard Jr.

I very much love the scene where Nate and Sterling go over what they have on Lundy, and then Parker interrupting them out of nowhere, just sitting there on the counter, like she's been there forever (which she probably has). Also just, fantastic clothes on Parker, thank you Nadine. Maggie showing up here is of course also brilliant and I am very fond of Parker making Maggie a fugitive bag. It is so completely adorable. I love my girl so much.

Another favourite moment is, of course, Tara and Eliot getting Chernov to tell them where the sale of the Fabergé egg will take place. Tara not saying a damn thing, Eliot grumpily doing what Tara tells him to ("Do that thing with your eyes that scares people" / "What -- I don't know what you're talking about"), Chernov's complete unease about this whole entire situation, and then of course Tara and Eliot's other interaction:

Tara: What we imagine is always so much better than reality. Eliot, with the tiniest voice possible: Like love? Tara: *just stares at him, confused*

Just, *chef's kiss* this scene.

The scenes in the embassy are also just excellent. Tara and Nate pretending to be a couple, Nate's inability to deal with the idea of Maggie and Alexander, Maggie and Tara hysterically giggling while talking about Nate, Sterling pretending to be drunk (and incredibly gay) to get Parker access to the egg room -- brilliance, all the way through.

I adore Eliot taking charge of the situation once it becomes clear that Maggie and Nate have been taken hostage. Parker doing her magic and switching the bomb with the empty briefcase in the elevators is beautiful. Maggie kissing Nate instead of Lundy in what could have been their final moment and regretting it instantly the moment Parker shows up is excellent.

And the final scene back at McRory's is also just wonderful. The kids watching the news about Sterling with Tara ("I hate this guy" / "Now, you're part of the team"), and Nate talking with Maggie. I adore Maggie in this scene so much. Her and Nate's relationship is so lovely. We know Sophie understands how Nate ticks, but Maggie knows him so well too, still.

213: THE FUTURE JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: CHRIS DOWNEY & AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 03 February 2010.

This episode is so good for so many reasons. First off, I adore Luke Perry (I'm still sad about him) even if he plays creeps like Rand in most everything I've seen him in. He was just so good. Second, Medium Tara is probably my favourite role of hers. It's a lot softer than many of the other characters she's done, and I love it. Also the costuming is just excellent.

But I want to talk about Parker most of all. The scene where Rand cold reads her is so well done. Riesgraf knocked it out of the park here. Also, I love how Nate, as soon as Rand starts approaching and doing his act, barely ever takes his eyes off her. He occasionally glances at Rand, but his attention is on Parker at all times. And it just makes me feel things.

The team coming back to Nate's to find Parker sitting on the floor in front of the couch, crying also makes me super emo. They are all so very careful with her here. Even Tara, who hasn't been with them for that long. I quite like how Eliot and Hardison choose to sit a bit away, giving her space, and Nate carefully approaches and sits closest to her. They are all so good with her here, I love them all so much. And I absolutely adore this part of the conversation:

Tara: So what do we do now? Parker: Cut off his arms. And his head. Yeah. I wanna kill him. Can we make that happen? Eliot: Yeah, I can...I mean, I could...

Also earlier, after Tara acknowledges that Rand is good at what he does, Hardison says "He should be shot." I adore how both our boys would not hesitate to end this man for hurting Parker like this. That's their girl and he went too damn far. And even though Nate suggests a way of retaliation that is less final, he isn't above hurting the man either. Because that's his girl, too:

Hardison: Nate had me rig the table with a mild electrical current. Eliot: You electrocuted him? Nate, smugly: Yes, I did. It helped sell the bit. Parker: I approve. Nate: Thanks, Parker. Eliot: No, her agreeing with you is not a good thing. Nate, whispering to Parker: Thanks.

And add to that the absolute joy each and every one of them have when fucking with Rand to fulfil Tara's predictions? *Chef's kiss.* Absolutely beautiful.

There is so much more absolutely fantastic content in this episode, but I just wanna point out the ending where they meet with the client again. Nate is so good with them here. The way he talks to Jodie about her baby and how she will see her late husband in the child, makes me cry every damn time. Just like Tara says, "Yeah, now I see why you do it," this is why this show is so damn good. It's because of this exactly. Because for one shining moment within so much suck and tragedy, there is goodness and a wrong that has been made right. They help people and it isn't just fleeting momentary relief. They change people's lives for the better. I love this fucking show so much.

214: THE THREE STRIKES JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 10 February 2010.

First half of the second finale! Patrick Bonanno my beloved! I get so sad every time he gets shot here. My man deserves better than this. I love Bonanno so damn much, man. I absolutely adore that Nate goes to see his family at the hospital. Like, this is a cop. The very opposite side of the law Nate and his people operate on. But he goes to see him anyway, because this is their cop. And I love that Bonanno's wife recognises Nate's name. "He wanted to buy you a drink. And then arrest you." That's just so good.

I also absolutely love Richard Kind as Brad Culpepper, the corrupt mayor. I would love to see him back in the reboot, but I doubt there'd be any reasonable explanation why on earth they'd have to see this particular mayor again. I just think Richard Kind is an absolutely fantastic actor.

Anyway, favourite moments. Hardison and Eliot at Bonanno's house is beautiful. I am so fond of how Hardison deals with law enforcement while impersonating law enforcement. He tears them down and builds them back up again, every single time. And I adore how Eliot just smiles at his antics. He crawls around on that carpet with the young cop and Eliot just stands there and smiles. I love them, guys. I really do. Parker pretending to be Brad's pregnant lover with Tara's help is also just most excellent.

And of course: Roy Chappell. Baseball Eliot, my most beloved. There is so much to love about this whole concept. Eliot's reluctance at first because he doesn't like baseball. The discovery that baseball is actually something cool and something he is good at. His absolute childlike joy at the energy drink commercial Hardison made him. His damn hair during the actual game. The sandwich! The enthusiasm about the sandwich. Hardison admitting that the sandwich thing is cool.

I also absolutely love Hardison and Parker as Beavers Fans. The badly photoshopped picture of Dean Devlin and John Rogers as the radio hosts makes me smile so much. So does hearing their voices on the show. Both Hardison and Parker's phone calls to them are also brilliant. Parker speaking Spanish? Marvelous. The two of them demonstrating the Beavers leaving? *Chef's kiss.*

The final showdown with Brad and then the FBI is also just most excellent. Nate going ballistic on Brad because of Bonanno. Hardison and Lucille. Parker giving Lucille a little kiss before they send her to explode as a distraction. Hardison quoting Spock to say goodbye to Lucille. Hardison being pissed at Nate about Lucille. And of course: Jim Sterling, Interpol. The bastard. I love him.

215: THE MALTESE FALCON JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 17 February 2010.

Second half of second finale! And it's a good one, too. This show has absolutely brilliant finales, lemme tell you.

What do we love about this episode? MUCH. Tara's naked bit is excellent. Eliot and Parker sharing a look after watching Tara's naked bit is even better. Parker turning on the porn channels on the hotel tv is hilarious. Eliot talking to the receptionist about the gym is hysterical ("Ah, the fitness spa. Isn't the Zen Steam Garden divine?" / "Yeah....delicious").

Nate on stairs vs Sterling in elevator is probably the pettiest thing I have ever watched on television and it is absolutely amazing. I don't think anything can ever top this as pettiest moment. It is just so good.

Sterling, of course, is always great fun. I love that he has his own little villain theme that announces him before he even enters the screen. Love a good villain theme. And I adore his moment with FBI Bob outside Brad's hotel room.

Sterling: Name's Bob, right? Bob: Yes, sir. Sterling: You've been here the whole time, Bob? Bob: Yes, sir. Sterling: And nobody's gone in or out, Bob? Bob: No, sir. Sterling: Then would you mind explaining, where the HELL THE MAYOR IS?!

Absolutely perfect.

Nate going back to his place always has me all up in my emotions. Also, I think Sterling here absolutely believes that what he is offering Nate, is good for him. That he can save him from himself or something. They were something like friends at some point, after all. And of course, Nate calling Sophie. She is, of course, unbeknownst to him, already on the way to save his ass. But he calls her and finally tells her exactly what she wanted to hear at the end of The Ice Man Job: "I need you. Not the team, me." Sir. I am emo about you.

And then of course the final con and the reveal of Sophie's return. I absolutely love that Parker's first reaction to Tara possibly betraying them was to try and throw her off the roof. That's my girl (I love Tara, but that was fair). Also just, if you pay attention on the boat scenes, you can see Sophie from as early as Kadjic hearing Nate's offer and then leading Nate and Eliot below deck. If you can pick out her hair and know the colour of her coat from the scene in the helicopter, you know that she is there. And then, below deck, you can see her so many times -- at one point essentially back to back with Nate -- before any of the characters know she's there. And can I just say, I absolutely love Nate's completely shocked face when he hears her voice. Those comedically big eyes are just excellent.

Everyone seeing Sophie again is done so well. Hardison and Eliot's confused "Sophie?" when she walks past. Eliot winking at Sophie after they free Nate. Parker hugging her immediately once her and Tara arrive on the ship. Hardison putting his hand on the small of her back as he passes by her to go down the stairs. I just love them all so much.

And lastly of course, the reveal of the plan, Nate cuffing himself to the railing and making Sterling leave his family alone. What Nate says to them always makes me so emo too: "You guys are the most honourable people I have ever met in my life. You have become my family, my only family. And I will never forget that." John Rogers, sir, we need to have some words once I get this lake out of my eyes. And I obviously can't not mention the kiss. Finally, finally Nate gets his shit together. And she slaps him and it is perfect. And then they leave and he sits down and bleeds and Sterling, for a moment, is genuinely concerned about Nate as a person and not merely about Nate as his only way to nail Kadjic.

Bob: Who the hell is this guy? Sterling: I have no idea. Nate: My name is Nate Ford. And I'm a thief.

Yes. Yes you are, you magnificent bastard.

[image taken from the electricnow website]

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missnxthingg · 4 years

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𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕨𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕤 • 𝕠𝕟𝕖

SUMMARY: Tom has to move to New York when his father got a new job and he’s afraid of moving to a different place. (Y/N) is daughter of a world famous fashion stylist and big wealthy lawyer. What happens when this two keep meeting each other everywhere?

Based on my one-shot, Flawless.

PAIRING: Rich!Tom Holland x Rich!Reader (Best Friends to Lovers AU)

WORDS: 6.4K

WARNINGS: Swearing and vomiting.

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𝕠𝕟𝕖 • 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕣𝕜

New York is the city that never sleeps, at least that’s what they all say. Every single person that ever walked through its streets fell in love with them and the images stuck in their head like it was the most amazing time they ever had in their lives. That first step you take, breathing in the new air, you just feel like right there everything… works. Even though it had bad traffic, didn’t smell so nice and it was visually polluted. New York was magical somehow and it made everyone feel home even when they are so far away from their own. That’s how Tom felt like on the first time he stepped foot in New York. Renewed and ready to take what the city would throw at him.

When he first heard that he would be moving to a different country, he was fucking terrified. He was so used to London and his friends, changing it out of the nowhere would be really hard for him. He just started making some solid friendships and it was his senior year, he wasn’t ready to let go of the city. What if he got lonely? Or maybe they didn’t like him? He might be cool for a British kid, but maybe he wasn’t so cool as a New Yorker and people would laugh at him. Things for him were falling perfectly into place, he got a scholarship in one of the best schools in the city, his parents got an awesome apartment on the Upper East Side, but he still was afraid of change.

“You don’t have to go alone, you know that darling?” Nikki said to Tom when he admitted to his mother he was feeling afraid of moving. “The school you just got in has an exchange program and I’m sure the Osterfields would love to come along for a year until you and Harrison graduate. And even if he doesn’t come along, it will be such a great opportunity to you as an actor. Maybe if Harrison came along, it would be good for him too.”

And that’s the story of how Tom’s best friend came with him to America. But how he got there in the first place? Well, it’s very simple. Tom’s dad, Dominic, was a comedian and got offered to work in New York and had to move as quick as he could and he would be there for a long time. After a long conversation, the whole Holland family decided to move with him and they all had to manage their whole year again, including finding a place to support the whole family, a new job for Nikki and new schools for the kids. Luckily, the Hollands were a wealthy family, not extremely wealthy, but money never was a problem. Having their firstborn with a scholarship in one of the best schools in New York was huge for them.

The day they left England was the worst anxiety attack Tom had in his life, but all of the boy’s worries went away the first time he stood in the middle of the city, right in front of his building and took a good look, standing right next to his best mate, who rested an arm over his shoulders with a smile on his face, admiring the city just like the one standing next to him.

“We’re gonna take New York City, mate.” He said loud and proudly, making Tom chuckle at his words, shaking his head.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this together.” The boys smiled at each other and Harrison nodded. He would never admit it, but if Tom moved and they got separated, he wouldn’t know what to do. The two of them were attached to the hip ever since the first day of High School when they met. They were too much alike, the same dreams, similar personalities. It just made sense that they were both there.

“Maybe we’ll be on Broadway very soon.” Harrison arched his eyebrows and that made Tom laugh. Harrison’s smile died and he rolled his eyes. “Why are you laughing?”

“Easy there, mate. You’re dreaming too high.”

“This is a place to dream high.” Harrison winked and retreated to help the rest of the family move their stuff up to the apartment. He turned around before he entered the building carrying some bags and shouted. “Also, I have a good feeling about this place.”

“Yeah, me too.” Tom shouted back and curved his lips into a smile before turning back to the street full of cars before coming back to help his family.

It was a long day of moving, especially since they were doing two apartments in different neighbourhoods. They didn’t have much to organize at that moment, no furniture, only clothes. The full house would take a while until it was ready. For now, all that Tom had was a small mattress to sleep for the first nights and a bunch of bags holding pretty much all of his stuff. One thing was sure, he had only been there for a day, but he was already feeling good about it.

“The apartment is just…” Harrison swallowed hard as if he was trying to find the right words to say when he met Tom the next day for lunch. “Fucking amazing! And the girls… Ugh, they are fantastic. I already got one of their numbers, a tall brunette that lives two apartments above mine, so you know… when our parents are gone…” Harrison arched his eyebrows and Tom caught him midway. Harry rolled his eyes when he joined the boys at the table.

“You will never change.” Harry ran his fingers through his red hair and rolled his eyes. “I thought that maybe a new place would make you guys change somehow. I guess I was wrong.”

“Harry, if there’s one thing that won’t ever change is our love for women.” Tom said frowning a little and Sam joined their conversation.

“Or the lack of love for them.” The brother that just arrived said, making Harrison laugh.

“Yeah, we don’t like relationships. So what?” He shrugged and leaned into the table. “Also it’s a brand new town that doesn’t know our reputation yet.”

Oh yes, Tom and Harrison’s reputation in their school back in London wasn’t the worst one. They were very funny and nice to everyone, but they were also known to be the heartbreakers and to get all the girls they wanted running after them. It wasn’t like they treated them like a piece of garbage for sex and only sex, on contrary, they were the nicest boys in the world and that was what always got them to fall in love with the two. But New York didn’t know that yet and they weren’t planning on changing their reputation because they liked it. Harrison tried to be in a relationship once in the past year, but that didn’t last long. Tom never even liked a girl, at least not in that type of being head over heels about her, heart beating faster and that good feeling on his chest. To be honest, he didn’t even know how it was like to be in love and maybe that’s why he had the reputation to be with every girl. He was still out there trying to find that feeling, but he ended up enjoying playing the game much more than winning it.

“New unexplored girls just dying to meet us. If you want, you can join us, Harry. Since your twin twat is taken.” Tom said, receiving a punch from his younger brother.

“Don’t mention Elysia. I miss her so fucking much and I can’t believe I’m going to do long distance until I’m back.” He boy leaned his head over his hands and rubbed his eyes.

“Ditch her and then you won’t have to do long distance.” Harrison suggested and received a death glare.

“She’s gonna try some other schools for an exchange program since Constance Billard didn’t accept her.” Sam reminded the boys of what happened when he tried to get his girlfriend to come along once he got the news and how that didn’t work out. “And you’re not corrupting my twin brother, I won’t let you.”

“That way he’s gonna die a virgin.” Tom whispered with a hand on his mouth and Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a fucking virgin, I had sex wi… Why am I even telling you this? Fuck off.” Harry made the boys laugh at him, which pissed him off a little. “Can we change the subject?”

“You started it.” Tom did a weird face before burying his face on the menu.

“Shut up.”

(...)

The heels were killing the poor girl’s feet, but she stood strong by the stylist’s side while she gave the interview, displaying the most beautiful sleeve mesh black dress, designed by the woman herself, Josephine (Y/L/N), one of the most respected stylists of the world who happened to be her mother. She was trying not to look bored, but being quiet as if she didn’t exist and being blinded by camera flashes weren’t the most entertaining thing in the world. When it was finished, you couldn’t be more thankful.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was getting tired of those events after two full months in Paris working with her mother. She was tired of the red carpets, standing in heels, making small talk with people she didn’t know and were only talking to her because she was somehow important. Of course, all the glamour and the pretty dresses were fun, but in the end, it was all just empty and a momentary feeling of joy. So when she got back to New York, she couldn’t wait to just be in her nighties all day and catch up with her Netflix list, maybe visit her dad and have a drink with her friends at the club. But she had to cancel because her mother needed her to be with the whole team on an event.

“Is it over? Can I go?” She asked her mother, who was now drinking a glass of white wine with a fake smile for the cameras.

“No.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at her mother and crossed her arms, frowning at her. “Don’t frown, it causes wrinkles.”

“I was planning on visiting dad today.”

“Oh sweetie, he’s in Chicago for the week. Didn’t he tell you?” Josephine caressed her daughter’s left arm which made the girl snort.

“He never returned my calls.” She said a tone under her normal voice. “Can I at least go home and rest? My heels are killing me.”

“That’s the price you gotta pay to look good. Or do you think I’m comfortable in these?” Josie glanced down to her outfit, making her daughter follow her look. She was wearing the biggest baby blue fur coat, a dress and high heels that matched the colour. “I just got used to it. You should too.”

“Well, I’ll only stay if you let me go out with the girls after we’re done here.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the club.” Her mother chuckled and drank down her wine to make it go away.

“I already think you’re drinking was too much and you’re asking for my permission to go drink more in some club? Why don’t I give you the condoms so you’ll have the full liberal mom package?”

“Since when do you care?” The girl frowned and Josie fixed her position to hide her face from the photographers in front of them.

“I’m your fucking mother. I’ll always care. So if I’m saying that my underaged daughter won’t go out and drink, then she’s not.”

“You went to rehab for alcoholism last year and you’re still drinking wine.” (Y/N) pointed her index finger at her mother’s hand, who shrugged.

“Casually, only.” She cut the girl, who took a deep breath to not hit the woman in her face.

“I’ve been drinking since… forever with you. I’m not gonna stop now. At least I don’t have a fucking problem.”

“Okay. So I’m cutting you right now because you’re starting to stress me out and I need a cig.” She got the shinny golden cigarette case out of her purse, making her daughter lose it.

“That’s it, I’m done with your bullshit.” She rushed to the door without even saying goodbye to anyone and not carrying about the photographers around her.

“Where are you going?” Josephine shouted from far away, not even bothering to rush after her.

“I’m going home, mother.” The girl turned around and opened her arms to show defeat.

(Y/N) swam through the sea of photographers with difficulty, making her even more pissed off. The tears in her eyes weren’t helping her at all, only blinding her vision and making her more upset. When she finally got to step out of the building, she bumped right into a person passing on the street, a boy to be exact. He was slightly taller and he looked kind of pretty, but (Y/N) wasn’t in the mood to pay attention to that. He held her by the arms to prevent her from falling. He took a couple of seconds to look at her, but soon enough she freed herself from his arms.

“Sorry. Excuse me, I gotta go.” She didn’t look twice at him, just entered the limo parked next to them as fast as she could, leaving the boy paralyzed looking at the limousine driving away.

“Tom, are you okay?” Harry asked the boy who was still watching the limousine drive away. They just had their lunch and decided to take a walk around Manhattan to get to know it and they slowed their pace when they spotted an event full of photographers and a red carpet coming out of a building. Seconds later, Tom was run over by a girl in a black dress.

“Yeah.” He shook his head and looked to his twin brothers and his best friend.

“That was a really pretty girl.” Harrison said and Tom nodded, running his hand through his brown locks.

“She was crying though.” He frowned and started to walk again, followed by the other boys. “I wonder why she was crying.”

“It’s probably nothing.” One of the boys said, but Tom didn’t even bother to pay attention to which one of them was talking.

“Nobody cries for nothing.”

Tom didn’t know why but he found himself shook with what happened with him and he wasn’t sure why. He saw her crying face and somehow he got worried with that stranger, surrounded by luxury and photographers, wearing fancy clothes and still so sad. It was like some of her sadness was transferred to him when they touched. But come on, he didn’t even know her and he probably would never see her again, why was he feeling so strange like that?

“Welcome to New York, mate.”

(...)

Before the beginning of every school year, the twin schools, Constance Billard and St. Jude, always hosted an event to welcome the students back with lots of music, food and activities. The students loved it because it was a day to reunite with their friends and eat some junk food, even though it was considered a lame event. After all, they were too grown up to participate in their lame activities and the music was always bad. But it was a good way to make new friends if you’re new, like Tom and Harrison.

Being new in school was like you were magnetic and all eyes were on you. That was exactly what happened to the boys and they felt a little exposed when they arrived. Normal people would feel a little embarrassed, but Tom and Harrison were liking all the attention on them, especially from the girls. A lot of people came to talk to them and they were all different. Some guys from the basketball team came to talk to them, some other popular ones and not so nice too, and the girls who were already throwing themselves over them. They even heard some whispers from them trying to guess if they were indeed British.

“I have to admit it’s a little weird. But I’m loving it.” Harrison whispered in Tom’s ear when some people walked away from them.

“Me too. One of the girls even got her hands in my back pocket” Tom said excitedly, remembering the pretty girl and her boldness when she let her hand slip on his ass. He removed a small piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to Harrison. “It’s her number!”

“Nice.” Harrison licked his lips and looked around. “Are you feeling hungry?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Wanna get something to eat?” Tom nodded and Harrison looked around to find something good to eat. “I’m feeling nachos. What about you?”

“I think I’ll stick to the good old hot dog.”

“So we’ll meet in those stairs, okay?” Harrison pointed to some stairs on the school’s entrance and Tom nodded, waving goodbye to his friend.

The first day of the school year was always an event for (Y/N) and for every single person around her. It was very known as the day she searched for new people to be friends with. It started as an innocent thing in her sophomore year due to her lack of real friendships during her freshman year. She was feeling lonely and felt as if people only pretended to be her friend because she was rich and famous, but it didn’t work at all, remaining the same for the next year. On the junior year, she gave up on trying to find someone for a true friend and kind of made a competition out of the day, making some crazy shit happen, like two girls fist fighting for her friendship. So people were looking forward to this year’s first day. (Y/N), on the other hand, wasn’t.

She arrived alone and didn’t spend much time looking around for new people to not give them the false impression that she was looking for someone to be friends with. That was why she kept walking to the stairs in front of Constance Billard’s entrance, where she normally sat with her friends and waited. (Y/N) knew that eventually, people would start sitting around her to talk and it didn’t take long until two girls sit in front of her.

The first one, Courtney Bailey, was a very rich girl that could have much power herself being the daughter of a Wall Street stockbroker, but the lack of confidence made her weak and small, even though (Y/N) tried to build that up plenty of times during the past year but gave up once she realised the girl wasn’t interested in changing. She’s (Y/N) oldest friend since their fathers used to work together and Courtney was the one she would go to when she needed a girl to. The second one, Stacy Brummer, didn’t have the big potential to be a queen bee, all she wanted was status and to suck it all from someone without needing any work, but she was fun to be around, making (Y/N) remain friends with her because Stacy boosted her esteem, although she wasn’t trustable at all.

“Hey, girls. Good to see you.” (Y/N) said when the two girls sat in front of her.

“It’s good to see you too.” Stacy said with a smile on her face. “How was Paris?”

“Tiring.” She sighed remembering the two long months of hard work and having to up with her mother’s bullshit. “But it was good to finally be sure that I want law school as my future.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you’re such a fashionista! I always imagined you following your mother’s steps.” Courtney finally said and (Y/N) shrugged. They always thought she would turn out to be like her mother, but the truth was that she was tired of the fashion world and she wanted to prove the world that she was more than just a pretty face by following her father’s steps, all the way to Harvard’s Law School.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She sympathetically smiled at them. “What about your summer, girls?”

“I spent it on The Hamptons and it was amazing. So many pretty boys and I had so much fun playing with them.” Courtney remembered her summer and started to ramble on about it.

“That’s my girl.” (Y/N) winked and slightly touched the tip of Courtney’s nose with her finger. “And you, Stacy?”

“I went to Los Angeles with my boyfriend and his family. It was nice, except for the fact that after it I had to start calling him ex-boyfriend.” She shrugged and looked anywhere else. (Y/N) knew that she was just being dramatic.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just had to get away with him for a while to find out it wasn’t meant to be.” The girls nodded and waited for her to finish. “He’s a dick, so I don’t feel bad.”

“Oh, there’s Noel!” Courtney pointed at the boy approaching them.

Noel Kaim was one of the most popular guys in school and one of the richest as well. His father practically owned Wall Street and a good part of Brooklyn buildings. Also, he was part of the rugby team and any jock in St. Jude was automatically popular. To help out, he was very attractive, with his dark hair that always looked good and in place; light green eyes that were so deep and felt like they could penetrate your soul; and fancy clothes that were a big contribution to his appearance. Noel had a small thing for (Y/N) since they met and they always had something going on between them, always hooking up when they had the chance and everybody in school knew they had a thing, but it never got bigger than an affair for fun. He was a good company and a huge booster for her self-esteem, also a good listener and friend, maybe the one she liked the most. Still, she knew he only wanted her because of her good reputation and popularity, and to satisfy his needs.

“Hello, ladies.” He said with a small smile of his lips and looking at both the girls sitting a few step under (Y/N) until his eyes landed on her. “(Y/N).”

“Hi, Noel.” If she was being honest, (Y/N) was also getting tired and bored with Noel because it was starting to get clingy and it pissed her off. In his mind, she was her property and he was certain that they were more than just a fixed hook up. Ever since they last saw each other, the day before she left for Europe, she’s been on the dry and even though she would never admit it, she missed Noel.

“So, you’re back from Paris.” He ran his fingers through his hair and bite his bottom lips because he knew it would drive her insane, which worked.

“And you’re back from Brazil.” She fixed her hair and sighed.

“I thought you would have called me once you landed in America.”

“Well, Noel. The world does not turn around you. I was busy. Also, I was pissed because you didn’t even text me for the past two months.” (Y/N) smiled cynically and Noel got a little speechless.

“I was busy too.” He defended and she shrugged.

“I don’t care anymore. Anywho… I’m gonna get something to eat.” (Y/N) stood and bumped their shoulders as she passed by. He held her by the wrist making her turn back to face him.

“I’ll see you tonight? My parents are gone for the whole week.” He said keeping his voice low, so it would be a little more private, even though a lot of people were around to hear what they were saying.

“I’ll think about it.” She winked and walked away swaying her hips side to side because if Noel was playing a game to drive her crazy, so would she.

Leaving him on the cold was part of the game, and of course, she was dying for some hotdogs after long two months without eating real fast food and she was getting tired of all the croissants and fancy food, all she wanted was some dirty New York food and there was nothing better than food truck’s hotdogs. Her mom would probably have a heart attack if she saw her eating those, but she didn’t care.

She was much more comfortable on her own, eating that delicious hot dog and listening to the (bad) music on her own while searching for new faces around the students. She wasn’t looking for new friends anymore, but she couldn’t help if she was curious about what’s new around her. After a while, she came back to her friends and filled them up with new stories from her “vacations” in France.

Tom was also having a good time with Harrison and talking to some other people that were being very nice to him. He was exploring the new territory in the best way possible, making a lot of new friends, getting familiar with what was around him and laughing a lot during that.

“So are you enjoying New York?” One of the guys they were talking to, Tyrell, asked.

“Yes. I mean, we love London, but we are loving what we’ve seen so far.” Harrison replied before Tom even opened his mouth.

“Also, the babes are helping.” Tom smiled and winked at a girl passing by, making her blush and send a kiss his way. The guys around them laughed at his actions.

“You guys are really fun to hang with.”

“That’s a nice thing to hear.” Tom smiled and fixed his hair. “To be honest, I was very nervous about people not liking me.”

“That’s impossible, you guys are cool.” Another guy, maybe his name was Fran, said and they all agreed. “Also, you’re stealing the spotlight. Everyone’s got their eyes on you two.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Harrison asked and the guys nodded.

“That’s a fucking awesome thing around here. St. Jude’s and Constance Billard care too much about popularity and it’s not even officially the first day and yet, you guys managed to get all the eyes to you.”

Tom smirked and looked around the new environment that was going to be home for a whole year for him, and to be honest, it didn’t look bad. Both him and (Y/N) were having a good time with friends until they felt sick and the biggest urge to just throw up. Tom didn’t get the chance to go inside the school, throwing up in the nearest trash bin.

“Wow, Tommy, are you okay?” Harrison asked his friend who was now looking green as ever and could just faint right there. He shook his head, hand resting on his tummy and Harrison nodded. “I’m taking you to the nursery.”

(Y/N) got to the bathroom as quickly as she could and threw everything in the toilet. Luckily it was empty, so no one saw her thrown at the floor, reaching for her scrunchie to tie her hair in a bun. It all happened too quickly and she didn’t have time to even tell her friends what was going on. Courtney came over looking for her and found her destroyed on the floor.

“Oh, baby. Get up here and I’ll clean this makeup off your face and we’ll get you to the nursery.” She helped (Y/N) get up and lean against the bathroom sink, where she used makeup wipes from her purse to clean her face and a toothbrush from (Y/N)’s purse so she could clean her teeth. “C’mon, let’s get your ass to the nursery.”

The nursery was crowded that day and apparently, everyone that had hot dogs got food poisoning. Harrison was very worried about Tom and he dragged his best mate to the crowded room where the nurses were working their asses off to help everyone. One of them came to Tom and already knew what to do, get him away from Harrison to a separated room where he got an IV and was told to hold a bucket for if he felt sick again. When Courtney came with (Y/N), they did the same thing to her. When she finally got to take a good look around the room she was inserted, she knew that something fucked up happened.

(Y/N) never felt so vulnerable in front of a good part of the school, running for the bathroom to throw up, all makeup removed and feeling very ill. Everybody knew her as the power it girl that showed no weakness and there she was, holding a bucket in a room with at least ten people around her. Tom wasn’t feeling much better than her, a little embarrassed that he threw up on the first day of school in front of everyone. He didn’t even get to the bathroom to hide from the whole school, he had done just do it in front of everyone. But he knew he wasn’t alone judging by the faces around him. He took the opportunity to look at every single one of them individually, analyzing how bad they were until his eyes landed on her.

(Y/N) was sitting next to him, curled up in her seat, hidden behind a bucket, playing with the IV’s tubes and some small tears falling from her face, which she was trying to hide. And Tom recognized her, of course he would. She was the girl who bumped into him back in his first day in New York and was crying her eyes out. Her image was stuck in his head for weeks now and he was struggling to get it out. Why she was always crying?

“Hey, are you okay?” Tom asked keeping his voice low so nobody could hear what he was saying.

“I-I don’t think anyone here is okay.” She sobbed and cleaned some tears that were falling when she realised someone noticed it.

“I recognize you.” She furrowed her eyebrows when those words left his mouth. The boy talking to her was visibly new in school, but maybe he knew her from tabloids and the fashion world. “You’re the girl I bumped on the street a couple of weeks ago.” Her eyes widened and she started to remember the last time she bumped into someone. Her memory went back to that awful event where she ran away from her mother and bumped into a guy on the sidewalk. She didn’t remember much of his face since she didn’t see it at all, blinded by the tears.

“Uhm, I’m sorry about that.”

“Why are you always crying?” He asked softly and she tried to come up with an excuse but started to cry harder. She cleaned her throat and leaned back into her seat.

“I, uhm… Am feeling vulnerable right now. You’re new in school, but all eyes are on me all the time. And I’m wearing no makeup, I’m green as a pea and I’m crying because I don’t like to feel like this.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re only human, these things happen.” He tried to comfort her and she shrunk in her seat. Nobody around there was ever nice to her, considering they all acknowledge her reputation from the second they stepped into that school. “Why were you crying them?”

“I don’t really wanna talk about it.” She lowered her head and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. She wanted to talk to him though, because no one had ever been that nice to her, especially on the first time they met and something about him made her want to know more. “You know, no one ever asked me what was wrong before.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He lowered his head and for the first time that day, she let a small smile form on her lips.

“I like it.” Tom’s eyes widened when she said that and he smiled give her some comfort. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Tom Holland.”

“You’re an exchange student, right? Maybe Australia or…”

“England. I just moved here from London.” (Y/N) nodded and moaned when she felt sick again, but she held it in. There was no way she would vomit in front of a bunch of people. Tom was thinking the same, especially while he was talking to the girl who stuck in his mind for days just by bumping into him in the middle of the street, and now she had a name.

“Welcome to New York, mate.” She winked, trying to force a British accent, which made Tom giggle. “Just be careful with the food trucks.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever eat a hot dog again.” He moaned and she truly laughed, feeling a little better to be having a conversation with someone that didn’t even know about her reputation and wasn’t going to talk to her because it was convenient.

“Well, that’s just not true.”

“You’re right, darling.” He smiled and closed his eyes to concentrate on not vomiting. “Uhm, I’m sorry that you’re sad. You shouldn’t be crying because you feel vulnerable. If there’s anything I can do to cheer you up…”

“Tom, you’re a nice guy.” She cut him and he nodded for her to continue. “But you’re new in school and you don’t want to be friends with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You seem pretty nice.”

“Well, I’m not.” She said in a serious tone and Tom started to feel bad because he felt as if something he said was wrong. “You’ll learn that people don’t like me very soon and I’m already anticipating it before you get disappointed.”

“(Y/N), I don’t care about what the others think. But I do care about what I think and I think you’re very cool.” She smiled again and nodded. “I guess the meds are starting to work. Do you feel better?”

“Kind of. I just want my bed and to be alone.” She rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. People around them were too sick to care about their conversation and they were keeping their voice low to not bother anyone.

“Yeah, me too.” They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t that uncomfortable yet. They wanted to keep talking but were both insecure with what to say. Even though they had a nice moment together, they just met and sharing too much might not be the best idea.

“I was upset with someone that day.” She said once he wasn’t even looking, but it was a courageous step to keep talking to him. “Family is shit.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips together and looked at her with a little bit of pity. “Family can suck sometimes, but I hope everything is alright now.”

“I don’t think it will ever be, but it’s okay.” She smiled weakly and nodded. “Let’s not talk about depressing things right now or I’ll start crying again. Also, you just met me and I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world to think I’m cool.” He laughed smoothly and nodded. “By the way, huge mistake.”

“I don’t think it is. But I guess I’ll have to stick around to find out.” He winked, making her blush harder than ever.

They had to stay there for a while in observation, so they kept talking about some small stuff. Where they were from, Tom’s first time in America, some school things and from all the people Tom met today, (Y/N) was the best, even though she didn’t have the best reputation around both of the schools, but he wasn’t sure why. He knew she was popular and slightly famous, but the reason why she was afraid of being vulnerable and a little lonely was still unknown.

Tom wanted to stick around and learn much more about her and he could swear it was so comfortable to be around her and just talk, it all just occurred to smoothly. Something about her attracted him, but not the kind of attraction he felt towards other girls, this was different but he didn’t know what it was. She was just… different. Actually, he couldn’t put a word to what she was.

On the other way, (Y/N) thought Tom was the nicest guy she’d ever met. For years guy only talked to her to get into her pants or maybe take some advantage of her. Tom just talked to her because he saw her crying. Although maybe he was trying to get in her pants, after all, she didn’t know him. But he didn’t give her that vibe and that’s why she was so comfortable around him.

By the time they got out of the nursery, Harrison had been waiting for his mate outside the whole time. He was really worried and didn’t know where else to go until he got out. (Y/N) found it very cute, but got a little sad that there was no one out there waiting worriedly for her. You can have all the money, power and popularity in the world, but they will never overpower real friendship and happiness.

“Uhm, thank you for distracting me.” (Y/N) said when Tom was done talking to his friend.

“Don’t need to thank me. You were a nice company.”

“I hope this school doesn’t give you the wrong impression of me. I’m definitely not what I show them.” She fixed her hair and pressed her lips together.

“So you should show yourself much more because I like the real you.” He truly made her smile with that. “If that’s what you gave me.”

“At least I tried to.” They both chuckled and fell into silence a couple of seconds later. They didn’t know how to say goodbye to each other. Maybe just a wave, or a hug… It was awkward. “I’ll see you around?”

“Of course, you won’t get rid of me very easily.” He winked and she leaned in for a small hug. He was caught by surprise but hugged her back.

“I’m sorry, I was too invasive.” She blushed and he shrugged.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” She gave him a small grin and Tom looked back at Harrison, waiting for him in the corner, to hide his blush. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“After class?” She squinted her eyes waiting for his response and he nodded. “Okay.”

“Cool.” Tom blush only grew bigger and he stepped back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye!”

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

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calypsoff · 3 years

Text

Twenty Seven.

Rolling my eyes hard while on FaceTime to Chris, you know what why is the man I love, also is the love of my life and I adore him so much, but he is so fucking stubborn. He has his moments where he will leave his ego at the door where he will obey me and what I say and then the next day he will refuse to hear me out or say I am being judgemental and I need to listen to what I am saying to him, it’s always my way, it never is anyways. But I swear he does shit and doesn’t think of the bigger picture at all “you got a face on with me?” So he says “not so much, you could be here with me in Cali but instead you’re there in Virginia about to do something dumb, it’s not even your child to care” I want to tell him no, I want to say to him if you love me don’t go but I know it will fall on deaf ears. I will look like the nasty one and that I look insecure when I don’t “exactly, show my face and go” I sniggered “that is the issue, you know why Chris. Do it, go. I am busy anyways, I think you need a lesson” rubbing my forehead “you are doing the most for nothing, it’s really nothing. But anyways I’m going to go and look pretty” annoying asshole “ok bye” disconnecting the call before he could say anything more, he just wants to annoy me “why does he purposely go out of his way to be an asshole!” I shouted “baby you could have said no, it’s easy” Mel added hearing the whole conversation, this is whole other issue. I don’t like how we are all dating people in the same circle, if shit goes wrong it will affect us “you don’t know Chris like I do, but you know what. Let him go, he hasn’t had the blogs be on his ass, he doesn’t know what it is like being famous and he will soon find out, I want him too. I’m going to rehearsal and ignoring him when he’s getting tagged in false claims, I don’t care for them. I just didn’t want the mess but let him, he will be calling me up saying I didn’t do anything. Let it happen Mel, who am I to hide him when he doesn’t want it from me, but I am angry, and until further notice I don’t want to know” shaking my head, he is going to get a nasty wake up call.

I enjoyed Virginia a lot, I loved how homie it was. I enjoyed my time with Chris, and I loved it all. It was a real good time away to be honest, it was my home when I was doing the exchange programme, I loved that his family treated me well and I feel Chris and I are closer than ever. But he just needs to stop trying to hear his own voice, like he doesn’t need to go but he will. And I can’t wait to hear him call me and say I didn’t do anything when they are dragging him, me. I have become immune to it, Chris will get a lesson in this “you have a face like thunder, the dancers are going to be shook” Mel said through her laughter “oh I’m not angry, I was just thinking. But how is you and Barry getting on? Is he less stubborn than Chris? Does he actually listen” Mel chuckled, she is laughing but I’m not, I hate when Chris is like this. Tries to be the man of our home, he knows damn well he will be crying to me “he’s a nerd, like Chris and I like that about him. He’s easy going, and we talk every day. He said that if we do end up being together and it works out well enough that he would move here and I’m like nigga already!? I mean I am not whipped at all but he’s nice, and easy going” I sighed out “oh brother, now why can’t Chris be this way” my man is a whole pain “because he likes to be the man of the house, I don’t know. Something he will get over but I’m excited” I’m scared of this whole relationship with friends’ things, I am just not sure of what to make of it. I feel like we will be judging each other, maybe that’s me because Chris is being a pain, but I hope it’s not what I assume it will be, I want better for me, for him, for us to be honest.

Robyn is cute, like she left me her gold chain. I mean it’s cute and small, but she left it behind, I think she did, or she purposely left it here, but I am wearing it anyways. Putting my snapback backwards, I wore the chain anyways, but I am just wearing the minimum, I wore white tee and grey sweatpants. I am just going to go to the thing and then leave, I am there for the free food like the fuck. It’s not even that deep, like I don’t understand why it’s a big thing, I mean I get it but it’s nothing. Go there and leave, that is it. I am late anyways, I told him I am going to go there late because I don’t want to be there all day. They are having the reveal at a hall, so I will turn up and then leave. I showed my face, I am there for my nigga so does it matter. Closing my bedroom door and making my way down the steps “where are you going?” Desean asked me “out, I will be back. Dad, I am borrowing the car!” I shouted; I been borrowing the car every day since being here. I need to get my own car; this is my list for my family. A new car for them, a new home. A bigger one anyways, they deserve it “when will you be back?” my dad asked “I won’t be long, I am going to see TJ” my dad nodded his head “uh, isn’t it Seiko gender party today? I saw someone post a little something about it” nodding my head “anyways, bye” I don’t need to hear anyone speak on this, I know what I am doing. This is my life, I need to take a hold of it in a way of making big money, I need to get into that life. And I think California, well me being in California will do me good. I need that in my life, I need to win big for me and my family and also Robyn, I need to do it for her too.

Locking my car door and making my way to the hall, these Jordan’s I have on right now are brand new, I just bought them today and these sweatpants is what Drake gave me from his clothing line, dope. I ain’t dressed up, I ain’t even shaved so if anyone thinks I made the effort then they lying as fuck. Licking my top lip pulling open the door to the place, I told TJ I am coming, and he came to meet me “I am so fucking happy to see you my brother” TJ hugged me “nigga got a whole fucking clown suit on” Barry snorted laughing “I had to look the part, I got the Burberry tie on. Man, my momma is so happy about this. I hate it” moving back from the hug and dapping Barry “well of course you ain’t going to be happy, shit was a mistake” I chuckled “is Seiko brother’s here?” not like I care “mhmm yeah, they trying to beef me up but whatever” of course “I am hungry, where the food at. There better be chicken wings” rubbing my stomach “nigga I paid half, I made sure there was. We wait on you so come. We can get some alcohol and food” nodding my head, least they waited on me. I don’t care for anyone, just my brother’s.

Licking my fingers as I placed the paper plate down, I am getting weird looks from people I don’t know “little rat, why you keep coming here?” TJ said to his sister “can I get a picture with you?” wiping my hands on my sweatpants “who?” I asked “you” she pointed “me!?” I spat half confused “can I? I want to tell my friends that I know you because you date Rihanna!” she half shouted, I chuckled “who is Rihanna? I don’t date Rihanna ma, see. The pictures you see they are photoshopped. I am single” I lied, but she doesn’t believe me. She seems more disappointed that I even lied to her, she looked down at her phone “my sister is pain bro, like she into this celebrity shit. Like live you damn life “look” she patted my lap, turning to her “oh wow, who is that woman?” she out here pulling out receipts of Robyn and I “stop lying, can I please have a picture with you. You’re super famous now” she is tripping “I am not famous, my god. It’s me Chris! I ain’t had this before with you” TJ nudged me “just do it bro so we can get rid of her” taking in a deep breath “fine, come here” waving her over “TJ take it” she passed her his phone and she openly sat in my lap, I ain’t into this picture thing “you look so annoyed, smile for me. Quick” I grinned at the camera “now go away! Leave us alone, dang” that is the weirdest shit to happen to me today.

Sitting back in my seat as TJ made his way to his baby mother, I find this hilarious to me. I know this nigga hates this, but he is putting on a front, I am so happy it wasn’t me. Chewing on my bottom, Seiko and I eyes met and she is just blatantly staring at me in a room full of people, I mean I wish she looked away, but I can tell she regrets things, she looked away as she should. Clearing my throat looking away laughing to myself “you look well Chris” looking to the side of me “I do? You look well too Kristie” moving my arm from the chair “you’re rather the celebrity in this joint, kind of knocked my best friend off her pedestal” moving my chair away from her as she sat down “I don’t bite, I mean you should know that” rubbing my hands against my sweatpants “I ain’t do shit, I come here to support my friend” there is one thing, I never fucked ugly bitches and I love that for me “likewise, she does love you and still does” I sniggered “right, and having sex with my best friend made that right” she pointed at me “you sir are a hypocrite, you fucked all her friends” shaking my head “she was right there, y’all was ok with it. She knew it was wrong from jump with TJ. She knew that” is this girl being real right now “I never liked her like that anyways, that is the point. I am happier, away from her” Kristie laughed “who wouldn’t be dating Rihanna? She is beautiful and rich, you tell me Chris did you purposely take her there to get with Rihanna?” shaking my head “I didn’t think Rihanna would even remember me like that, I love her so much and I don’t pass around that word much so you can’t say it’s like that when it’s not. Nothing to do with being rich, she is my childhood sweetheart” I don’t care, I will tell the whole world “that sent my friend a shut up letter, Seiko loves you still. I say good riddance, she says she lost but you look well. Better then I last saw you naked” she winked at me “it’s the tan” she got up from her seat “I suppose” watching her walk off, now I should have dated her between her and Seiko.

I clapped seeing that my friend is having a son, happy for him. I think if he was having a girl he would be even more depressed “are you dating Rihanna? You’re the guy she is dating” this girl pointed me out, I stopped clapping “huh, what?” I said all confused “you’re like the guy Rihanna is dating, she was in Virginia and she was at her old school, oh my god you are actually him. I follow him!” she shouted “I am just a regular dude” I put my hands up, in my defence I am “can we like take a picture with you? You are literally the sexiest light skinned nigga. I get why she would date you” I chuckled “I will pass on the photos” I walked by them “congratulations brother, a boy” dapping TJ “I am so happy, like I don’t know what I would do with a girl. Now you need to have a boy, then Barry we all going to have a day care” shaking my head laughing “you need to get Rih pregnant, on god” I shushed him “relax on that, she busy now. But I am happy for you” hugging him “thank you” I know he appreciates it “nice seeing you here” Seiko spoke to me, I stepped back keeping my distance “for TJ, I am going to see to Barry” dapping TJ walking off.

Barry is eating again “people are weird here, they all are speaking on Rihanna and I am her boyfriend. I am but the fuck. I am just a regular dude” Barry is stuffing his face “that makes you famous by affiliation now Chris, you famous” furrowing my eyebrows “that is bullshit, anyways. Kristie came up to me. Started speaking on Seiko still in love with me and shit. This is why I ran here but I think it’s my time to go” I think I do “can we talk?” Seiko is right there “about what? There is nothing to talk about” Barry stood next to me, I ain’t moving anywhere with her “did you go to her concert to get back with her, I hate myself. She was laughing at me all that time when she took you from me” taking in a deep breath “I was never yours, yes I was with you. I dated you but it really meant nothing when I always loved her, I did. I wish you let me go, take off my pictures. Move on, so you can be happier in yourself also. I came here for TJ, not to see you. I am going Barry, good luck with that” I pointed at her bump as I walked off, all I know is that I am in my city but people are acting mad weird now with this Rihanna shit and I want to run home.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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nebris · 3 years

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An Open Letter to Melvin Capital, CNBC, Boomers, and WSB

Discussion

Mods do not delete, this is important to me, please read

I was in my early teens during the '08 crisis. I vividly remember the enormous repercussions that the reckless actions by those on Wall Street had in my personal life, and the lives of those close to me. I was fortunate - my parents were prudent and a little paranoid, and they had some food storage saved up. When that crisis hit our family, we were able to keep our little house, but we lived off of pancake mix, and powdered milk, and beans and rice for a year. Ever since then, my parents have kept a food storage, and they keep it updated and fresh.

Those close to me, my friends and extended family, were not nearly as fortunate. My aunt moved in with us and paid what little rent she could to my family while she tried to find any sort of work. Do you know what tomato soup made out of school cafeteria ketchup packets taste like? My friends got to find out. Almost a year after the crisis' low, my dad had stabilized our income stream and to help out others, he was hiring my friends' dads for odd house work. One of them built a new closet in our guest room. Another one did some landscaping in our backyard. I will forever be so proud of my parents, because in a time of need, even when I have no doubt money was still tight, they had the mindfulness and compassion to help out those who absolutely needed it.

To Melvin Capital: you stand for everything that I hated during that time. You're a firm who makes money off of exploiting a company and manipulating markets and media to your advantage. Your continued existence is a sharp reminder that the ones in charge of so much hardship during the '08 crisis were not punished. And your blatant disregard for the law, made obvious months ago through your (for the Melvin lawyers out there: alleged) illegal naked short selling and more recently your obscene market manipulation after hours shows that you haven't learned a single thing since '08. And why would you? Your ilk were bailed out and rewarded for terrible and illegal financial decisions that negatively changed the lives of millions. I bought shares a few days ago. I dumped my savings into GME, paid my rent for this month with my credit card, and dumped my rent money into more GME (which for the people here at WSB, I would not recommend). And I'm holding. This is personal for me, and millions of others. You can drop the price of GME after hours $120, I'm not going anywhere. You can pay for thousands of reddit bots, I'm holding. You can get every mainstream media outlet to demonize us, I don't care. I'm making this as painful as I can for you.

To CNBC: you must realize your short term gains through promoting institutions' agenda is just that - short term. Your staple audience will soon become too old to care, and the millions of us, not just at WSB but every person affected by the '08 crash that's now paying attention to GME, are going to remember how you stuck up for the firms that ruined so many of us, and tried to tear down the little guys. I know for sure I'll remember this. In response, here is a list of CNBC sponsors and partners. They include, but are not limited to, IBM, Cisco, TMobile, JPMorgan, Oracle, and ZipRecruiter. Their parent company is NBCUniversal, owned by Comcast and GE.

To the boomers, and/or people close to that age, just now paying attention to these "millennial blog posts": you realize that, even if you weren't adversely effected by the '08 crash, your children and perhaps grandchildren most likely were? We're not enemies, we're on the same side. Stop listening to the media that's making us out to be market destroyers, and start rooting for us, because we have a once in a lifetime opportunity to punish the sort of people who caused so much pain and stress a decade ago, and we're taking that opportunity. Your children, your grandchildren, might have suffered as I described because of the institutions that we're fighting against. You really want to choose them, over your own family and friends? We're not asking you to risk your 401k or retirement fund on a single GME bet. We're just asking you to be understanding, supportive, and to not support the people that caused so much suffering a decade ago.

To WSB: you all are amazing. I imagine that I'm not the only one that this is personal for. I've read myself so many posts on what you guys went through during the '08 crash. Whether you're here for the gains, to stick it to the man as I am, or just to be part of a potentially market changing movement - thank you. Each and every one of you are the reason that we have this chance. I've never felt this optimistic about the future before. This is life changing amounts of money for so many of you, and to be part of a rare instance of a wealth distribution from the rich to the poor is just incredible. I love you all.

Note: I can't seem to get a hold of mods and they keep fucking removing the post. I have no idea how to get this to stick and its important to me that the people I'm addressing read it.

#gamestop

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prongsmydeer · 3 years

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Ayesha Liveblogs Oh My Ghost (2018) Ep. 9-16

Part 2 of this post because tumblr would not let me save anymore either because of the numerous images I’m commenting on or because of how many times I use the word H*rny

Kaopoon is frustrated bc Real Jiw is now vibing with her new BF Sun while she is sitting sadly on a swing set [Alexa play Sadness and Sorrow]

Backtracking to the other kind of drama: Lieutenant Murder is finally going to murder someone on screen (specifically his fellow police officer) because Lieutenant Murder jumped him for getting too close to solving Nammoon's hit-and-run case, which is at this point obvious he committed)

I love when Sun and Jiw flirt through their apartment wall

Jiw and Sun are dating now but the remaining point of contention is how much Horny Ghost just wants them to sleep together instead of getting to know each other to which Sun thinks “Jiw do u only want me for my body 😔?”

I can't believe that Lieutenant Murder's tragic backstory is that he was an orphan oh my god. Adoption is normal!! Murder is not!!

Lieutenant Murder was possessed by an evil spirit????? (After the first time he tried to murder????) WHAT WHAT WHAT

Sous Chef Rain is yelling at the restaurant staff bc of forgetting his birthday, bc he is, truly, a perennial pain in the ass

They are all out for Rain's birthday except for Sun bc of his and Jiw (Kaopoon)'s sex fight and so he is very anxious about his girlfriend being out with The Guys without him

Also Study-Abroad Win is handsome to the point of distraction AND nice where is his romance? Where is the justice for the male models of the world

Sun's Mom does not know he is Dating and Housing his employee possessed by a Horny Ghost He Thinks is One Facet of Her Personality

Presented without commentary:

Win has been politely pretending not to notice that Sun and Jiw are in a relationship and now I'm thinking he will get a romance and it will be Ida, to wrap up most of the loose ends of this relationship pentagon. Based on no other reason than that they are both single

Dkjhgkjgh lmao @ Sun going to his whole staff: “WHO WANTS TO GO TO THE MARKET?” and then saying no to everyone one by one except his girlfriend

Kaopoon is making Sun help her dad install a restaurant hose in the middle of their work day hahaha

FINALLY PROOF THAT LIEUTENANT MURDER IS A MURDERER. Warning for murder related description, there was a flashback where it showed a still body (face obscured) wearing Kaopoon's outfit on his bathroom floor

They really hammered home the ‘he is a murderer’ thing, he has a bag full of evidence of his crime

In more lighthearted news, Sun's rice intolerance is psychosomatic bc his mum never cooked rice for him and it's Sad Boy Hours

Sun and Kaopoon!Jiw seem like they're finally ready to have sex (they've talked out their feelings and are going away together) but there are FIVE MORE EPS and the murder stuff still lingers so I wonder what other madness this show will unleash on me

Actually, six more eps!! Ahhhh that's so much time

Oh how the tables have turned now Kaopoon is the one too in love with Sun too have sex (bc she will go to the afterlife if she does -- But if she doesn't she'll be an evil spirit so... stuck between a rock and hard-on)

I have been suspecting for a while tho that the sex will not change anything. She will probably have to solve her murder to pass on

You know what that is? Growth!!

Now they are back to the weird energy of Sun going “Now that we are in love I would like to have sex,” and Kaopoon!Jiw going “Sex????? Never heard of it!!”

Against Kaopoon's credit, she has not informed Jiw that their relationship has progressed this much. She's just like "yeah things are normal" bc she wants to spend as much time with Sun while she has the chance

Win and Kaopoon!Jiw are just being good bros and Sun, in tandem with the sex-back-and-forth, is jealous of their dynamic

Kaopoon has begun to solve her own murder!!! Unfortunately the first thing she did was point out inconsistent evidence to Lieutenant Parin, who extremely Murdered Her

I feel so happy for Jiw when she gets to experience normal boyfriend moments with Sun like these cheesy matching necklaces. <3 Why does Jiw's life have to be so complicated?

Kaopoon is... spiritually breaking up with Jiw, so she can end the messiness of her involvement with Sun

Ehkjehrrk Jiw is back to living her own life and a spirit just tried to grab at her and she just whacked their hand off and said, "Don't bother me now!" so she could keep cooking, love that for her

The employee-boss affair's out of the bag!!

They also keep cutting to Lieutenant Murder with his knife ready to go after Jiw for Knowing Too Much kjhgkhgjh so I guess the last four-and-a-half eps will dedicated to crime-fighting

Auntie Pu is kind of my favourite character on this show bc she goes from Ghost Nemesis to Ghost Mom all while having Sun's mom as her BFF and Sugar Mama

Hahahaha all the other restaurant staff (minus Win, who is chill) are sucking up to Jiw now bc she's dating Sun

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Jiw felt guilty about dating Sun when half the things he loves are things that Kaopoon did and now the Horny Ghost is out of the bag

I can only assume, bc he thinks she's bipolar, he will assume this is product of a hallucination

Reservations on the commentary on bipolar disorder aside, what DO u do when the person you love tells you that they can see ghosts and key relationship moments you had together were the product of them being possessed by a ghost

Sun now believes in ghosts but he's very upset about the romantic implications of this knowledge

“I think the reason I haven’t been reincarnated... isn’t the fact I’ve never slept with a man after all” HORNY GHOST CONFIRMED FOR DETECTIVE GHOST. VINNNNNDICATION!!!!!

Awww the restaurant staff are all surrounding Chef with support in his time of romantic woe

“But I want the two people I care about the most to be happy” I want Win to date Sun AND Jiw he's so good to them

AYYYYYYY Sun found out that Jiw made the recipes for the blog he liked (and called his soulmate) and now he's visiting her grandma bc he truly is in love with both Jiw AND Kaopoon

Sun said, “I acknowledge this is a complicated situation but I'm willing to work through the ghost thing and figure out how we feel about each other”

Cutting back to Lieutenant Murder, he has just meowed at his coworker threateningly in response to being investigated (for attacking that same coworker!!)

Lieutenant Murder wears this same stupid outfit every time he's gonna do a crime recently and can I just say: I hate it

WHAT'S HE GONNA DO, KILL EVERYONE WHO KNOWS SOMETHING ABOUT ONE OF HIS MANY CRIMES?? THAT'S A LOT OF PEOPLE! AUNTIE PU! JIW! THE FORESENICS ANALYST! ALMOST-SUN? HE CAN'T EVEN KILL KAOPOON BC HE ALREADY KILLED HER AND SHE'S A GHOST!!!!!!!!!!!

“Chef, is something wrong?” Jiw asked, after telling Sun that his brother-in-law is a murderer who also probably hit his sister with a car

Sun said, “Pls don't be a murderer I love u bro” and Parin said “My life of crime is very important to me”

This is Kaopoon possessing Auntie Pu so that Kaopoon, Jiw and Sun can be a crime-fighting trio, love that for them

There are SO MANY crimes going on right now I cannot even begin to describe but just know Lieutenant Murder is responsible for all of them

So Jiw has been kidnapped (GUESS WHO) and Sun is investigating every school in the area and Kaopoon has a network of ghosts looking for her while Jiw tries to find a way to communicate her location. The Crime-Fighting Trio Continues!!!

You'd think more people would notice what a creep this guy is considering that he is literally DIGGING A GRAVE for the woman trapped in his cupboard!!

Poor Nammoon she has no idea her husband is possessed by a murderous ghost. Which like, to be clear, he did try to murder before the ghost possessed him sooooooooooooo

“You're a good person,” said Nammoon, to a man who has committed at least three murders with a fourth on the go

Sun rescued Jiw via high speed car chase and now Auntie Pu and Kaopoon have taken Sun's car to chase Parin and GET HIS ASS

Also Jiw got 2 attack Parin which I think she deserved to get to do

Oh yikes it's possible she fatally injured him which doesn't bode well for the psychological implications of this whole ordeal

Nope I was wrong the ghost-busting continues

Well I don't know what's more perturbing, the resolution of that fight or the fact that there is still one more episode of 1 HOUR left jhfkjhkfjh this better be a happy filler ep where Jiw and Sun get married omg

HORNY GHOST SHOW REALLY MAKING ME TEARY-EYED ON THE LAST EP

The entire restaurant staff is a collective of morons who love Jiw for who she is

Jiw won a cooking scholarship and gets to study abroad in Europe for two years so it's Sad Boy Hours with Sun again

THEY GOT A SECOND DOG THIS IS THE BEST THING THAT'S HAPPENED ON THIS SHOW

SCREAM NOW AUNTIE PU IS A RICH AND FAMOUS GHOSTBUSTER MEDIUM

Sun has expanded his restaurant business, leaving Rain in charge, and so they have been sent a new employee Summer, who I guess is everyone's new Pain in the Ass just for fun kgjhkjhkgh

He was merely a plot device to prove the Chef Boys are Bros 4 lyf

In a weird turn of events Parin is still alive with amnesia???? Even if all of what he did as an adult was ghost possession stuff.... he did still try to attack a baby as a teen. That's a thing he did! Are we forgetting this????? I guess!!!

GET SOME THERAPY NAMMOON!!

BACK TO THE DOGS:

Sun is strumming a guitar woefully because he misses Jiw:

SHE'S BACK AND THE JIW SUPPORT SQUAD IS THRIVING:

Sun is presumably somewhere sadly shaking a tambourine

IT'S FINALLY HAPPY BOY HOURS

#ayesha says things #ayesha liveblogs oh my ghost #liveblogging #oh my ghost 2018 #thai television #television #long post

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jlf23tumble · 4 years

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Top 10 Niche Interests

Fixations? Obsessions? This is incredibly hard because I have wayyyy too many niche interests, so instead of stressing about it, I tried to channel the 10 things that immediately speak to me and maybe aren't so obvious from what I post here, like how much I'm obsessed with wigs, doll furniture, incredibly specific blogs, all forms of clothing with pockets, swimming pools, whimsical bus stops, over-the-top bathrooms, etc. etc Instead, I opted for some specifics that feel a little more evergreen and long tailed, like, so LIFE-long tailed that it's tough to nail down when or how they became part of the national psyche. I thank @alienfuckeronmain for the initial tag, and I'm tagging her AGAIN for round two because I know she has a billion additional niche things, and she'll post them, and I'll scream because it'll trigger five other things I neglected to post here, and I'll probably post my own round two, arggggh, insert aggressive sighing. Anyway, I tag ANYONE who wants to do it, just tag me so I can see!

1. Indoor Trees

I have no idea why this concept PULLS so hard because houseplants are kind of meh to me, but you want to plant an entire-ass TREE indoors, in the place where you live? Me, too, and I'd add a conversation pit plus a combo gold/red bathroom, among other things, and, bam, we're in my imaginary dream home, which I have literally, constantly ALWAYS mentally constructed from the time I was about six or so. (If you're curious, it has multiple themed rooms, and the closest I've seen to it recently is the outstanding Dita von Teese AD feature, but Amy Sedaris’s apartment comes close, too). There are two (2) 1960s houses in Long Beach with magnificent indoor trees, but I can't find them online, so have this modern interpretation and cry with me about how I can't visit the multi-story fake tree inside Clifton's Cafeteria for a good long while:

2. Conventions of Fans of Any Kind

One thing that I don't think I'll ever lose is how much I *love* people who are fans of SOMETHING, people who have a passion and create something about it or cosplay it or simply gather to celebrate it and connect to other people through it. The Internet provides in all kinds of ways, but I'm talking specifically about IRL conventions and the way my heart pitter pats when I first walk in those doors, SWOON! And it doesn’t matter how big the convention is or how random, I've been to smaller events like CatCon and the My Little Pony convention all the way up to biggies like WonderCon and Comic Con, and I have yet to be disappointed. I might know jack shit about what I'm walking into, but I want to see the merch, hear about the panels, and check out the people who are fucking PUMPED to be there. Sadly, I think it's gonna be a lonnnnng time until these come back, but I can live vicariously through my old photos, sigh:

3. Dutch Wax Fabrics and African Fashion

I'm not the snazziest of dressers, but textiles, colors, and patterns have been an obsession that has soothed my visual soul for as long as I can literally remember. Wax fabric marries all three of those touchpoints, plus throws in a healthy dose of style, and I count myself lucky to have seen two big exhibits on the subject (this was one of them), oh, how I wish there were more! For sure, there's a fucked up underlying colonial/imperialist history here, but there's also humor and color and vibrancy, a reclamation of sorts, and multiple levels of fashion that take my breath away. I cannot do the different patterns justice at all, but the fan motif is one of my faves:

4. Hearst Castle vs. Madonna inn

These two fall into my #home tag because they're where I'm from, and they speak to me as equally sublime and ridiculous, camp and kitsch writ large and small, different (yet similar!) versions of Xanadu that two rich white men built as shrines to their own personal "taste." And the irony is that a lot of people shit on Alex Madonna for being tacky (the Madonna Inn is...uh, something else), yet praise WR Hearst for all the high-class art and architecture, most of which is fully lifted from desperate churches between and after world and yet they're both more or less the same concept (lodging for weary travelers, self-aggrandizement, questionable taste-mixing). Hearst Castle edges out slightly for me because it's bigger and has spectacular scenery and history, plus it gives me doses of LA noir thanks to the way Hearst killed a guy in a jealous Charlie Chaplin-related rage and Hedda Hopper covered it up, all kinds of old Hollywood shenanigans happened up there, etc. But I'm low-key an expert on both houses of the holy, I'm OBSESSED with both, and we can leave it at that. I mean, come on:

5. Snow Globes

I had to cull my personal collection slightly just to fit it all on the dedicated shelf in my bathroom, and I seriously need to refill all the water lines, but nothing beats a snow globe in terms of memorable souvenir, especially when you put it in a bathroom. The majesty!!! The jewel of my collection is the one from Sherwood Forest because WHY NOT celebrate a historic place and moment in the basic way?? He robbed from the rich to give to the poor, and the gift shop about 100 feet from the tree he hid in does the same! The circle of life! The irony of all the watermarks on this blessed image...protect:

6. Highly Specific Museums

Look, we can all agree that the more venerated museums in the world are a form of garbage in terms of what they represent, what they've done, and who runs them, but I'm here for the museums that collect and celebrate things that tend to get overlooked. There are too many to list that I love that are still thriving, so I'm going to say goodbye to four recently departed faves. RIP to the Pez museum, I'm so glad I saw you and purchased your stale candy souvenirs. RIP to the museum of terrible food, you were a pop up when Phoenix and I saw you, and I will forever think about the worker describing people literally vomiting during their visits. RIP to the currywurst museum in Berlin, I've had currywurst exactly once and it was not for me, but I respect the Journey you took me on, including obscure east German TV shows that helped make you so popular (??). Finally, RIP to the velvet painting museum, there's no way to mince words, the person who owned you was crazy AS FUCK and had zero clue how to run a business, but I'm so glad I saw you multiple times and purchased my own velvet treasure (not this exact one, but remarkably similar):

7. Liminal Spaces: Grocery Store Edition

Confession time for those who don't know me all that well, I'm a big time voyeur, and nothing fills my heart with joy like a walk at 7 or 8 pm, the witching hour when people haven't pulled the curtains, and I can scope out their decorations/furnishings without it being "weird." Another confession is how much I unabashedly adore grocery stores in other countries and will spend at least an hour wandering aisle by aisle, falling in love with how much everything is different yet completely the same:

8. Agatha Christie Novels:

As a child, I was a fairly compliant reader--I had to read something for school? Okay! For my mom? Sounds good! But the books that sparked the initial fire for me to read something purely for myself were second-hand (probably fourth- or fifth-hand, judging by cover art) Agatha Christie short story anthologies, which were the gateway drug to full Agatha Christie novels, then other mystery novels, and so on. But getting back to Agatha, I obviously loved all the stories, but every decade spawned incredibly good cover art (like, exceptionally good), and this particular artist's are right up near the top for me (I go back and forth on a lot of the '50s and '60s ones):

9. Scopitones

I link my obsession with scopitones both to my love of music videos in general and a shop in Austin, TX, that sold DVD compilations of them in particular, but either way, they're underappreciated and kitschy all in one! Francoise Hardy and the rest of the ye-ye's are my forever girls for this medium, but seemingly every country cranked them out, both actual set videos and "live" performances? If you don't know what they are, scopitones were machines that played music videos in French cafes in the '60s (??), so it was sort of your proto-MTV way to see your faves sing and dance. Oh, Francoise...so moderne!!

10. Cover Songs

I have so much patience and love for cover songs of any stripe, the more genre-bending and/or surprising, the better! My only minor beef is the trend in slooooooooowing down songs to make a point, but even those ones have a special place in my heart if they're effective. Live Lounge feeds my hunger the best, but my meta fave for representing this concept is Pulp's Bad Cover Version, which was already lyrically INSPIRED, a song about bad cover versions in terms of relationships, but then they did a video that was a visual "bad" cover version, with actors lip synching over an audio "bad" cover version, and all of it just worked? The cover for the single is someone in the band as a boy, making his own bad cover version of a Bowie album cover, it's meta meta meta, and I love love love, here's the video, if you're curious. In the more sublime cover category, I'm absolutely addicted to all of Orville Peck's covers, I truly hope he officially releases them sometime soon, but I wholeheartedly support any artist who does it:

#tag games #niche interests #god i have a few

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scarlettrhettelizabethrichard · 3 years

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Chapter 7. Neighbours & Mills Associates, my GWTW fanfiction

To read all the chapters of my GWTW fanfiction The Boutique Robillard, check my blog https://alarecherchedutempsperdu.over-blog.com/tag/the%20robillard%20boutique/

****

Chronology : 1865 : Duncan returns to Paris, creates La Mode Duncan - 1873, December, divorce - 1874, January, Rhett visits Paris - 1875, january : Duncan returns to Charleston ; he buys Magnolias' Mansion ; Duncan "builds" the Vayton & Harvey Mills factory - 1875, February 5th : Rhett meets Duncan at Magnolias' Mansion - 1876, February : Grand Father Robillard died, Scarlett inherits, discovers La Mode Duncan' shop in Savanah - 1876, May : Scarlett opens her fashion shop in Atlanta - 1876, May : Charleston's event for Duncan.

Here is a long chapter. First, Duncan must buy his spinning factory for the textiles he is going to use. On the second part of this chapter comes the tough part : THE meeting Rhett x Duncan. Not really tough because our - their - dear Scarlett is not between yet...

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Charleston, 1875, January

The management of his family legacy eventually secure, the young couturier could now set up the American branch of "La Mode Duncan". No time was to be wasted, for the task was going to be tough.

First and foremost, a telegram had to be sent to Lille, France. "Blanche - stop - Need you - stop - Emigrate to America - stop - Take your children with you - stop – I send certificate of employment - stop - Letter follows - stop. » Blanche would be surprised by this terse text, but she would soon understand the situation by reading his letter to her. He explained what he wanted from her, and enclosed certificates guaranteeing her a job and a place to live when she arrived in Charleston. Duncan had no doubt that the loyal Blanche would immediately leave her family, her former life, to take her chances and emigrate to North America at the request of the owner of "La Mode Duncan" France. He would arranged the immigration formalities for her so that she would not have to worry about them and booked a place on the ship in the port of Le Havre. He didn't forget to send another telegram to his partner Roger Dax so that he could give one of his best workers a subsequent bonus. If all went well, Blanche Augustine Bonsart would be there in time for the creation of the new "La Mode Duncan" workshop in Charleston. ***

In the meantime, it took all his energy to select a textile factory capable of producing his own fabrics. There was no question of importing yards of fabric from France because he wanted to take advantage of the craze for local products, which was strong in the 1870s. Duncan had seen this when he visited the gigantic H. B. Claftin and C° shop in New York, which specialised in American-made textiles*. His first dilemma was to locate his spinning mill. The majority of them were located in the Northern states. The small factories in the South processed only a negligible amount of bales while, paradoxically, the South was the Master of cotton production. In keeping with his values, he wanted to set up in one of the former Confederate states. He was pleased to find that several mills had been established in South Carolina along the rivers, because of the abundant forests providing cheap resin to power the steam-powered machines. In early January he chose the best woolen mills owned by Jerry Harvey, and offered him a partnership. "Vayton & Son Ltd would buy 60% of the shares to take over management control. The textile entrepreneur thus ensured that he had full control over production methods, because the real problem facing Duncan was the quality of the final product. "Mr Harvey, we have to face an unpleasant reality. As you know, the textiles that come out of our Southern mills are 'low grade'. You produce mainly canvas, which is bought mostly by poor blacks, and cretonnes, such as shirting and drills, which are sold in the West*, but « La Mode Duncan » targets a wealthy clientele. It therefore had to use only the best-quality fabrics, comparable to those woven in France, in Roubaix, Mulhouse or Lyon. » "I am aware of that, Sir. Vayton & Harvey Woolen Mill Ltd will, no doubt, be able to rise to the challenge with the investment you are making available." "It's true, Mr. Harvey, the project is ambitious but necessary to master the quality at all stages. Our objective is, in the short or medium term, to dominate the high quality textile market, at least for South Carolina, Georgia and Louisiana. The sales potential is promising as it meets the aspirations of the upper class ladies and the nouveau riche. My tailor shop will of course be the first customer for "high-end" fabrics. We'll build a loyal following of Southern tailors and dressmakers who are frustrated that they can't buy better textiles locally. » Jerry Harvey adds: "I understand that you want our factory to be like the most modern textile mills in the North, managing all stages of production from the intake of cellulose bales, through spinning, weaving, dyeing and printing, to the transformation of the finished product." The owner of the French spinning mill Vayton & Dax said: "Yes, we must be inspired by the modernity of the North for the automation of tasks allowing a better output, use machines for certain stages such as the handling of the cellulose bags by winch and not by hand, etc.. The labour we save will be wisely transferred to other stages of production, such as dyeing and printing. » Jerry Harvey was impressed by his technical knowledge of the American market, despite the fact that he had just spent ten years in France. "What is your idea of influencing these steps? » The strength of the North American spinning mills is their modernity, speed of manufacture and large quantity produced. It is also their weakness. Compare, for example, the number of looms managed by each worker: here in the North, a single weaver is in charge of five machines, with the added requirement of speed. In France, as in my spinning mill in Roubaix, the worker is only in charge of two looms at a time*. You can understand that, in these conditions, even fabrics of common quality have many manufacturing defects. This is why Vayton & Harvey Woolen Mills Ltd will reduce the number of looms run by one worker to two." "That's an excellent suggestion. It will be expensive, of course, but it will pay off in the end," reassured Jerry Harvey. "Dyeing is my concern because I would like to use indigo. I know that its use is becoming scarce, but let's rely on the authenticity of local products. In the same spirit, we need to hire skilled chemists to ensure the consistency of the colours of the print. » "In conclusion, in order to get closer to French quality, we will have to increase the number of staff and systematically check for defects at every stage. » Duncan was satisfied that he had reached the end of his argument. "Yes, Mr Harvey, you and I are about to embark on a great adventure. This week I will contact an architect to modernise the warehouses. My contacts in the North have sent me the manufacturer's catalogue so that I can order the new looms and the more efficient printing machines. I am determined that production can start within three months. » Enthusiastically, Jerry Harvey proposed to his new partner: "I will submit to you within the week a projection of the number of employees to be hired, for each stage of transformation, by position. We can keep the American quota of two-thirds women in the spinning mill for jobs that don't require the use of too much force,* because they too need to work to overcome the economic depression. We will need more women spoolers, carders, and defect workers. »

Jerry Harvey's head was spinning. He felt an immense relief: the family spinning mill created by his father was saved! What's more, its fame would soon spread throughout the Deep South! For Duncan, all that remained was to set up his high fashion studio "La Mode Duncan" in Charleston. The hardest part was yet to come! *****

Charleston, 1875, Wednesday 5 February, at the Butler's "Rhett! I would really like you to come with us in the late afternoon with our new neighbours. The reception is not formal. It's just a « vin d’honneur » to celebrate the Vaytons' move to Magnolias' Mansion. » Rhett looked at Eleonor Butler with an amused expression: "Mother, your son is 48 years old. I think you can do without my presence to go and have tea with your friends. » "It's in your best interest. Three years ago, when you came back from Atlanta, didn't you tell me that you wanted to regain your place among our good Charleston society? I admit that you have made great efforts with your charity work. But what better support could you gain than from Charleston's oldest and most respected family? Especially since this friendship could also benefit your business, as the heir to Vayton Ltd is one of the richest men in the United States of America! » Faced with this avalanche of arguments, Rhett had only one solution: to accept the invitation to the Vaytons. *****

Charleston, 1875, Wednesday 5 February, at the Vayton home Melina had learned her lesson well by leaving the "hospitality" door to the porch open to let the Butler neighbours know that they were eagerly awaited. Barnabee, the butler, opened the inner door to the piazza. Mrs. Vayton came to greet them warmly and directed them on their right to the drawing room. Eleonor Butler and her daughter had had many opportunities to be received by the previous owners, the Hopkins. Nevertheless, they were amazed by the new interior design. Mrs. Vayton introduced her daughter to the Butlers. Rhett paid his respects to Cathleen and Melina with an elegant hand kiss. They were charmed. The lady of the house apologised to her guests: "My son is in his office. He had to write an urgent letter to France. He will join us in a few minutes. » The four women settled into comfortable chairs and happily began to exchange stories about the Battery. Rhett took the opportunity to cast his art-loving eye over the impressively large reception room. Everything was a harmony of forms, styles and materials. The room occupied the entire width of the façade. The light, that radiated from the five front windows and the two French windows overlooking the piazza, accentuated the grandiose aspect of this room reserved for prestigious guests and receptions among friends. The aesthete appreciated the conscious choice to contrast the curves of the architecture with the straight lines of the furniture. The sinuosity of the wall of the three bowed-windows stretched like a serpentine on either side of the other two windows. These curved lines echoed the moulded stucco frieze around the ceiling and the arch over the door. What an aesthetic success! The osmosis between the curves, the glitter of light, the walls partially painted in pale yellow, while the ceiling, the base and the windows were of a brilliant white, instilled an atmosphere of tranquillity. The softness of the whole was accentuated by the pale yellow lustrous silk of the upholstered seats. The contrast with the rigorous Empire style of the French furnishings Duncan bought in New York was all the more striking. Straight, clean lines, sharp-edged ornaments. The same antagonism of colours struck the visitor, between the mahogany and gold bronzes of the furniture as if lifted by the blond oak floor. Rhett was fascinated. Of course, he knew the French style that Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte had initiated: originally furniture dedicated the military men, a martial style, straight seats that allowed soldiers, such as General Bonaparte, to keep their swords in a seated position without embarrassment. A spartan and severe spirit that was called the Directoire style**. When Napoleon was crowned Emperor, with the pomp of the Court, the furniture became a pretext to testify to the power and wealth of the Empire. The flamed mahogany veneer was decorated with luxurious ornaments in gilded bronze, like the magnificent sphinxes enthroned under the armrests of the armchairs in the Vayton salon or the caryatids placed on either side of the overmantel. This large pier-mirror topped a black marble fireplace in the American Federal style that the first owner of the house had installed. Meanwhile, Barnabee had made his entrance. Three large silver trays generously garnished with fine food had been placed on the round side tables protected by beautiful embroidered tablecloths. The cook, Netty, had taken particular care in preparing the small canapés and other croustades. This was the very first invitation from the Vayton family. Even though it was not a dinner party, it was important to honour the closest neighbours of the Magnolias' Mansion. Barnabee was now dexterously serving refreshments. Rhett politely accepted a canapé with scallop terrine, and then resumed his admiring inspection of the place, while the four women were absorbed in discovering common interests. While admiring the finesse of the "Return from Egypt" sculptures,** Rhett the businessman recalled a conversation he had had with some English entrepreneurs in London. An idea came to him. It seemed obvious. At last he would find the excitement of embarking on a great adventure... The elegance and luxury of the place definitely appealed to him. Suddenly a regret assailed Rhett: "If only I had helped Scarlett refine her tastes, instead of leaving her without advice and mocking her disastrous decorative choices, I'm sure she would have loved the abundance of golden bronzes and the warmth of mahogany." The Old Guard would have been jealous of his wife, that's for sure, because of the display of so much luxury. But at least they would not have reproached her for a lapse in taste. "How I regret, Scarlett..." Rhett shook his head to get rid of the flush of weakness that once again overtook him. "Damn it! Why can't I put her out of my mind? Even a year after our divorce - no! It's been fifteen months since our divorce, sixteen months since we saw each other, Scarlett - and you still torment me! Will there be no end to this? » The entrance of the master of the house interrupted his depressing thoughts and he stood up to greet the young man who was holding out his hand. After Cathleen introduced their neighbours to Duncan Vayton, he sat down opposite the Butlers' eldest son. In a fraction of a second, the two gentlemen looked at each other. Rhett thought to himself that the young Vayton exuded sympathy with his frank smile and keen eye. "His good looks must please the ladies! Old Ashley would be jealous of his blonde hair. "He chuckled under his breath, still eager to belittle Scarlett's former blond knight, now quite grey. Duncan, for his part, was impressed by Mr Butler's bearing. The man wore his age elegantly, and his impeccable dress showed an undeniable accuracy of taste. Both men identified the other as belonging to the caste of well-born and refined gentlemen. "May I offer you a glass? In your honour, I have selected an excellent Cote Chateau Lafite Rothschild, from the 1870 vintage. This bottle is part of the reserve that I brought back from France when I returned here in January. I am sure you are a great connoisseur yourself, and I will be happy, another day, to show you around my wine cellar. » Then addressing the ladies present: "Ladies, would you like to try this excellent wine? The four women gently refused. They did not want to disturb the cordial understanding that seemed to have developed between the two men. "Cathleen, ever since we arrived, I have been admiring these lovely tablecloths on the pedestal tables. The fabric is of such beautiful quality and the embroidery designs are exquisitely difficult! » Duncan's mother smiled broadly, "Dear Friend, I am proud to say that they are made in the French mill owned by my son. "Then, turning to the young man, she said, "Duncan, could you ask your partner to send Mrs. Butler several sets of tea towels to complement the large embroidered doilies?» Mrs. Butler politely declined at first, but was delighted with the gift to come. Rhett thought that the man in front of him was definitely resourceful. "Duncan - I think we can call each other by our first names. What do you think? "The other nodded. "I'd love to, Rhett! » He continued: "I am in awe of your Empire period furniture. At West Point, when we were taught the military strategy of the French Emperor, we sometimes made a foray into the study of Napoleon Bonaparte-influenced lifestyles and decorating style." Duncan was amazed at the similarities between them. "It was my love for this great character that made me decide to decorate Magnolias' Mansion with an Empire feel, particularly influenced by the battles fought by General Bonaparte in the Egyptian Campaign**. Young Vayton added: "And I too began to admire Napoleon at West Point! What a happy coincidence, Rhett! We have the same artistic tastes, we're avid oenophiles and we've had similar training. I think we'll get along just fine! "Duncan gave Rhett his friendliest smile.

He continued: "Which regiment did you lead during the war? Perhaps we have crossed paths? » Rhett suddenly found himself on a ridge. To admit that he had only joined the Confederacy at the end when the South was about to lose - that famous night when he had abandoned Scarlett on the road to Rough and Ready? It might not look good for this new 'white knight in shining armour'. But he didn't care. Goodness gracious! The great Rhett Butler was proud of his past, and he would impress the impetuous young man! "I was a blockade breaker. One of the best, I must humbly confess! "he assured them in a drawl so charming that the four women stopped their casual conversation to listen to his story. "I was in command of one of the largest steam-powered sidewheelers, the SS Lynx. It had a steel hull and was 220 feet long***. But I changed a year later to a smaller, more malleable and much faster steamer, capable of dodging the Federal Navy. I was probably one of the first to be awarded the "letter of marque" signed by President Jefferson Davis, which attested to my service to the Confederacy. "Rhett gave his mother a mischievous smile. "A paper that would not have protected me from hanging if I had been captured by Federal forces. » Mrs Butler shuddered in retrospect. "Her dear daredevil of a son! » "The Yankee naval army had set up the "Anaconda Plan", a blockade belt encircling the Confederate states. The front line looked like a snake, running from Maryland up the Missouri River.*** And it was indeed an anaconda that strangled the Confederate states by preventing them from obtaining arms, getting supplies from Northern factories, receiving cargo from British ships, and being able to export their cotton production. » Rhett the seducer was now mostly talking to Melina for the sake of impressing her. "What were you carrying? "asked the young Vayton, amazed to have an adventurous hero as a neighbour. "Mostly weapons for our Confederate Army, gunpowder, bullets for rifles, and mail too: in our own way, we were in the front line of the fighting! » "We would have to sail along the coast at night, using indians tricks to get into the harbour and fool the Union ships! "Rhett's eyes glistened at the excitement and fear that gripped the entire crew as they approached the danger. Cathleen Vayton also found herself transported by the exploits of the former blockade breaker: "How many times have you managed to get through the lines? » "Thirty-three times! My first arrival in Nassau was on 5 December 1861. We were loading cargoes from England, filled with guns, lead, meat, saltpetre, shoes, blankets, coffee, and also the more luxurious items of clothing and sewing, necessary for your daily life, dear ladies! » "The transfer points, between the ships coming from England and us taking over the cargo, were from Nassau. Then we sailed to the ports of Wilmington, Charleston and Savannah. On the return trip to Nassau, the planters would entrust us with their cotton production, which would then make the crossing in English freighters. »

"The hull of my little steamer was painted grey to make it as inconspicuous as possible offshore. Duncan, did you know that when we were approaching the coast we used to feed the boiler with anthracite coal instead of coal so that the smoke would be white and dissolve on the horizon? I have even used cotton soaked in turpentine to raise the heat and substantially increase the speed. Rhett's eye twitched as he thought of these anecdotes. "We had to use indians tricks, I tell you! » Duncan looked at his quiet neighbour in a new light. "I met some brave men, who were not afraid of anything. You've probably heard of the famous Josiah Gorgas, who also graduated from West Point. He was my friend. » Duncan admired Rhett Butler's valour. "It is true! The Cause has paid tribute to those brave blockade-breakers who braved machine-gun fire and the beaching of their ships to relieve us of Yankee asphyxiation. However, it is regrettable that some took advantage of this to enrich themselves by not giving priority to supplying our troops. I remember a certain Butler - one of your namesakes, Rhett - with whom I was in business to repatriate a shipment of military jackets and trousers made at my expense in my French factory. His transport prices were prohibitive. I had tried to make him understand by special mail that these uniforms would be used to protect our soldiers from the rigours of the rain and the cold, but nothing was could change his mind! He shamelessly told me that I had to accept his price because the cargo space available on his ship was very coveted. » Duncan gave a disillusioned pout at the memory. Rhett got up from his seat. He looked straight at the former Lieutenant-Colonel: "It was me, Captain Rhett Butler! » Startled eyes stared at him. "You? You’re disappointing me, Mr Butler. I thought we shared the same values. After this revelation, I'm not so sure..." Rhett was not disconcerted by this sudden reversal of cordial understanding. "Times were tough. One third of the available space on our ships was legally reserved for the transport of cotton, so that the economy would not collapse*** - which it did. I had to feed my crew and make a profit from these expeditions where our lives were threatened at every moment. I do not regret my choices. I take responsibility for them. » Chin up, his imposing stature extended, Rhett stared defiantly at Duncan. The former benefactor of the Cause just didn't know how to respond. The ladies present became aware of the sudden change in atmosphere. The tension between the two men had become tangible. To distract and inject some levity, Melina brought up her favourite subject: "This place is a real paradise, but for our dear Mum's joy to be complete, we need something more. » Cathleen wondered, "What are you thinking, girl? » "To children's laughter, of course! "The young Vayton was pleased with her effect. "Isn't it your dream to see your grandchildren running around the paths of our beautiful garden?" "Children's laughter..." Rhett felt a twinge of sadness. "No, he mustn't imagine his beloved Bonnie sharing the games of other children here. Or else he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face until the end of this reception. Mrs Vayton exchanged a knowing smile with Mrs Butler. "I hope this dream will soon become a reality thanks to our children! "Then her gaze fell on Duncan. He was still confused by his neighbour's revelation. "Why are you looking at me, Mother? I'm leaving it to Melina to ensure the Vayton descendants. When will you take a husband, my dear sister?" Melina blushed: "When I find my Prince Charming. "Then she jumped in: "You're the oldest. It's up to you to get married first. Are you ready to introduce us to the woman of your dreams? » Duncan was taken aback by his sister's questioning. "The woman of my dreams? A concept that never crossed my mind, I confess. "He chuckled. "In fact, I doubt very much if she exists! "In any case," he added, giving his sister a sly smile, "you'd be the first to know if I ever came across her. Let me tell you, I'm not about to introduce you to her! » Melina insisted, cuddling. "Make an effort, Big Brother. How will you recognize her? » He remained silent for a few moments, in deep introspection. Surprised by his own train of thought, he finally said in a hesitant voice: "If she existed, I think I would know it immediately. Within the first few minutes. She would have a fiery temperament, a panther ready to purr or claw, soft skin..." Duncan paused abruptly, embarrassed by his indecent confidence, an admission of weakness made all the more awkward by the fact that it had been dropped in the presence of a man as impavid as Rhett Butler. Rhett, who had approached the piazza, froze. A succession of images assailed him: a library, a green muslin, a pearly shoulder, a broken vase, two emeralds, sparkles of anger... He closed his eyes to chase away the hallucinations that haunted him every night. In rage, he shoved his fists into his pockets. Melina looked at her brother in amazement: "Oh, you the hardened bachelor, are you in fact a passionate man ? You didn't accustom me and Mum to such lyricism!" She burst out laughing. The young man did not know what to say. For the first time, without his noticing it, he had put words to a fantasy that had never been consciously thought of before. "Don't get too excited, dear sister. In any case, this woman does not exist. » Melina then turned to the eldest son of the Butler family. "What about you, Rhett? Would you describe the woman of your dreams to me? Who knows, maybe your sister and I could find her among our friends .... What do you think Rosemary?" Her laughing eyes met the embarrassed faces of both the Butler women and her mother. "Melina, this is unseemly of you. "Cathleen sternly rebuked her, outraged that Rhett Butler's chaotic marital situation could be so cavalierly invoked. Then she turned to Rhett: "Mr Butler, I apologise for my daughter's indiscretion. Melina is as giddy as a child. In her defence, I must say she is an incorrigible romantic. » Her daughter then realised her blunder. She was clearly missing a piece of information that those present had. Eleonor Butler was silent, fearing a sarcastic reaction from her son. Duncan had lost interest in the subject and was enjoying his glass of wine. The heated argument of a few minutes ago was still bothering him. So he told himself he didn't give a damn about Rhett Butler's "dream woman. With that drawl he liked to use before he was about to make a hurtful remark, Rhett replied to Cathleen: "I see no offence in your dear daughter's innocent question. » Then, with a smirk that looked more like a sneer, he amused himself by staring at the young woman who was now blushing with confusion. "The dream woman? You should know, Miss Melina, that sometimes we have to take control of our dreams, to give up those that are futile. "Then his gaze drowned in the direction of the porch. His intonation froze the other four guests. The awkwardness that had crept in over the last quarter of an hour became overwhelming. It was time to end the tension. "Cathleen, I'm sure you're exhausted from moving in. It is now time for us to take our leave and for you to rest. The warm welcome you have given us in your beautiful mansion is very special to me. We shall both see you next week. Good evening to you, my dear Eleonor, your lovely daughter and the talented Duncan! » That evening, two neighbours who could have been friends were not sad to part... ****

Endnotes to Chapter 7 *My sources of information on the cotton economy and textile mills in the USA in 1870 are based on Louis Reybaud's thesis published in 1870, "L'Industrie et les Ouvriers du Coton aux États-Unis depuis la guerre de secession", Revue des Deux Mondes, 2nd period, volume 90, 1870. **Directoire, 1795-1799: government that succeeded the period of the French Revolution. The Directoire style of furniture extends to 1803. - Egyptian Campaign: battles led by General Bonaparte from 1798 to 1801 - "Return from Egypt": term characterising the style of ornamentation - Empire, 1804-1815: General Bonaparte was crowned Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. - Empire style furniture, from 1803 to 1821. ***Blockade Breakers during the American Civil War: source Wikipedia. Disclaimers : I do not own the story and characters of Gone with the Wind which belong to Margaret Mitchell. The “world” of Duncan Vayton and Blanche Bonsart are my creation.

#gone with the wind #fanfiction #fantic #gwtw #roman

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foolgobi65 · 4 years

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yeh rishtaa kya kehlataa hain

@allegoriesinmediasres asked for: Rama/Sita, travel!AU, friends to lovers, “you confuse me”

as usual, this is completely unedited and thus is probably chock full of grammar errors, bad characterization, and terrible pacing. but! it was fun to write on my end so as always if u want me to rewrite it I’d be glad to lmaoo. it’s super super super cheesy at the end...like the whole third bit is just super cliche but w/e i love cliche romance its all good lol. anyways, i hope you like it at least a little!! thank you so much for the prompt <3 <3 <3

if you’d like to send me an au prompt from this list, please do!!

(title is from a lovely ar rahman song from the movie meenaxi, and also apparently a hindi soap, meaning “what is this relationship called?” )

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It’s been two weeks since the Raghuvanshi Group put out a notice that nearly brought the Indian manufacturing industry to its knees: Ramachandra, eldest son of Dasaratha Raghuvanshi and anointed heir since his very first breath, has been stripped of his VP positions within the company, his stock options, even his entrance card. The gossip blogs report that Ramachandra has lost access to the family accounts and family property, have posted pictures of the young man once posed to be the next titan of Indian Industry at a local branch of the Bank of India, handing over what is rumoured to be his great-grandfather’s watch as a starting sum so that he can get his own personal account.

Bharata, three years Rama’s junior, is still in the United States working on his MBA: he has not yet been told of his brother’s effective exile from the family, nor of his own subsequent ascension to the position of CEO-in-waiting. Twins Lakshmana and Shatrugana, five years younger, are in London having just begun their undergraduate degrees. It was interesting, people used to say, that of the brothers it was only Rama who stayed in India. Rama who attended every company party and toured factories, solemnly noting down worker complaints on the weekends he could spare from his studies, in all respects the near exact opposite of his father whose four children are the sons of three women.

Four days after the company announced its decision, Ramachandra disappeared from the public eye. It takes ten days, but Janaki eventually tracks down enough public and private conjecture to find him in a housing colony nearly an hour long ride from Ayodhya, the Raghuvanshi family home in the center of the city. The door opens, and Janaki greets the man who can only be Sumantra, Dasaratha’s long-loyal driver who had apparently left the same day as it’s once shining son.

“Hello!” she says, palms folded and motorcycle helmets dangling by their straps from her wrists, “I’m a friend of Ram. Is he at home?”

The door closes almost entirely. “Why would sir be found here,” Janaki hears from the gap, as Sumantra hooks the metal chain that would prevent her from barging in even if she was strong enough to shove aside a man nearly 50 pounds heavier than herself. “He is a very rich man’s son, and I am only a driver.”

Janaki frowns. “No one is ever ‘only’ anything Sumantra-ji, we all do some type of work in order to live, and not one of these jobs is better or worse than another.”

From behind the door, she hears the sharp exhalation that could almost be a snort from someone more given to expressing his own feelings. Janaki was right, then, Ramachandra Raghuvanshi who grew up on one of the most expensive properties in India has sought refuge in a home he could have bought on a moment’s whim only two weeks before. The chain rattles, and the door opens wide.

“Janaki Videha,” Rama says, and suddenly it is four years ago and Janaki is again a student politician stuck in a hospital bed after a bad encounter with the police, flipping through notes meticulously taken by a classmate who insists on anonymity but could only possibly be the lanky, nearly silent boy that everyone knows will one day be one of the richest men in India.

Normally, a person seeing an old acquaintance after a few years would speak their name, then utter some platitude about how long it has been since they last met and invite them inside to catch up. Rama, who is only capable of erudition in front of men his father wants him to impress, conveys the implication that all of these social niceties have been uttered without saying anything but her name. Janaki smiles, takes off her shoes, and walks in.

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“What are you even doing here?”

Janaki raises an eyebrow, pouring a little more soap into the bucket they were offered to use for clothes washing. It has been a month since Janaki found Rama and told him that she was going on a trip, and that she needed male company to keep her safe. A month since she handed him one of her motorcycle helmets, helped him pack his single spare change of clothes and toothbrush, and directed him to sit behind her and hold on tight so that they might make it to another friend’s village by evening and have a place to spend the night. Together, they have followed the western coastline, trading off who drives when Janaki realizes that not only does Rama have a deft hand at the wheel, but in the proper circumstances can coax thrills out of her old bike that she hadn’t even thought possible.

“What do you mean,” she asks, grabbing his kurta top from the pile of clothes he has slowly gathered from the families he has inadvertently charmed over their travels. He’s standing off to the side, hanging their host family’s saris to dry in order of color, taking the pains to smooth each piece of fabric and making sure none of them touch. In exchange for doing the family’s laundry today, Janaki and Rama are allowed to do their own, an exchange of goods and services that has served them well so far.

“We both know what I mean,” she hears in response. “You’ve just been elected President of the University Student Union, your father is up for election this year, and even if neither of those things were important enough you must have research you should be doing instead of traveling the coastline with the penniless, disgraced son of an industrialist.” His voice is as matter of fact as it always seems to be with him, but Janaki feels an undercurrent of self-hatred at the core of his little speech. Still, she thinks with a faint flush, it’s nice to know that he has kept up with her just as closely as she had him -- though of course it was much easier to find information about Ramachandra Raghuvanshi, always in the papers at exact, two week intervals so as to prevent the creation of scandals to amuse the public with during a news drought.

“I’d call your father a capitalist if I was really embarrassed to be seen with you,” she says back, “and there is more to be ashamed of in becoming rich through exploitation than in being poor through no fault of your own.”

Janaki hands over his kurta, and watches him wring it out one more time with hands stronger than her own. He smiles slightly. “The revolution never stops, does it?”

“No,” she smiles in return. “Not with me, and not, I think, with you either.”

Rama looks away, walking back to the rope to hang up his shirt. “What do you know about me that makes you so confident?” He pursues his lips briefly. “We weren’t even friends, and still you’re here with me.”

Why are you here, Janaki hears go unspoken, why haven’t you abandoned me as well?

When Janaki arrived on campus all starry eyed at 17, she had taken the student body by storm. Blessed with a vibrant personality and the natural pull of a gravity well, she brought people into her orbit effortlessly, rising up the university party ranks within months rather than years of her peers. Academically, she was registered as an economics student, a category the papers said she shared with the Raghuvanshi heir who had created quite the stir when he took his place at an Indian University instead of going abroad. She had been doing quite well, she thought, until the exhaustion after her first collection drive in support of a local workers’ strike fund had caught up to her and she had slept through a full day’s worth of classes. Just when Janaki had been about to call up an acquaintance in their batch she thought might lend her notes, a folder had been slipped underneath her dorm door. Inside, a set of meticulous notes, and a 2 lakh check.

“Isn’t the factory a subsidiary of the Raghuvanshi group?” Janaki’s roommate asked, turning over the check as Janaki flipped through the notes. Thank you for your work, they said at the top. Please let me know if the workers need more.

“Yes,” she had said, “but we can’t tell anyone about this.” For four years she had kept his secret, waiting for his packages whenever she was detained, or ill, or beaten up and could not attend the day’s lectures. More than just a copy of the class outline, Rama’s notes were full of asides, connections, slips of paper clipped with outside citations when he saw something that could be countered, or expanded on. When the party canvassed for funds, her notes would arrive with another check, no demands made in exchange except a humble request to let him know if they ever needed more.

Janaki looks at Rama now, hair growing long to match his new beard. Ramachandra Raghuvanshi had always been clean shaven, hair short and neat and slightly parted to the side in a way every girl instinctively knew must have been how his mother told him would suit. Her eyes soften.

“You used to take notes for me,” she says, “Why?”

His lips turn down just slightly. “It helped me study, to transcribe them again.”

Janaki raises an eyebrow. She remembers that the notes had always focused especially on areas she was known to be weak in, but she lets his half-truth slide. She has a better arrow in her quiver.

“And the money?”

His eyes are trained to the ground. “It wasn’t my money.” Well, certainly the last six weeks have made that much clear. But Janaki did not remember Rama spending exorbitantly in school: his largest expenses seemed to be the checks he sent her.

“We weren’t friends,” Janaki agrees, “But I knew that you were a good man,” Janaki says, “even if you’ve had to hide it from your family your whole life.” She snorts. “And if we weren’t friends then, we certainly are now -- look, I’m washing your underwear right now, and if that isn’t friendship I don’t know what is!”

The joke isn’t really that funny, but suddenly Rama bursts into laughter, loud and deep in a way Janaki doesn’t think she’d ever heard from him in class, on campus, even in the videos posted by the gossip rags online.

“I’ve never had a friend before,” he finally says, and Janaki tries not to show her surprise or the way that makes her hurt on his behalf. “But I would be grateful to be yours.”

Another two months pass, Janaki and Rama journeying up and down and around the west coast. Slowly, Rama starts to gravitate towards the work that he seems suited to do in trade for the day’s food and shelter, and Janaki watches as he seems to blossom in front of her eyes. Every place they drive into, Janaki begins to ask around and invariably there is a person who, more than needing wood split or clothes washed, is in need of a good scribe to write, in English, the details of their grievance against someone with more power than them. Rama listens, and writes, and accompanies men and women to go see a lawyer, or their landlords, and stands behind them speaking in that perfect colonial era British Indian accent he says he picked up at boarding school, making even Janaki squirm when she hears it.

Janaki’s ideology does not allow for her to venerate colonial markers of class, so that squirm must be one of discomfort, rather than, well, --

It has been three months since Janaki and Rama set out on their travels, and time is running out for Janaki who really does have things she has to get back to: a student union to run, a doctorate to work towards, a father’s election campaign to help out with. But everytime Janaki thinks about waking up one morning without seeing him when she turns her head, the pit in her stomach grows larger and more snarled. She doesn’t know how it happened but somehow Rama has gone from acquaintance, to friend, to....to something Janaki can’t even describe beyond simply laying claim to the person at her side. He has become “her” Rama, even though she knows you can’t own a person -- yet Janaki is greedy, and when she watches the small smiles that their trip has coaxed out of his mouth, watches him bargain with their host so that she can eat her favorite vegetable at dinner, watches him finally fall asleep after talking to her for hours into the night and finally look like the youth he is, Janaki knows that she can’t bear to leave.

“Are you angry,” she asks one day, passing him the newspaper cone of roasted peanuts they’ve been trading between themselves while they sit on the sand of an empty beach. There is no need to clarify what he possibly could be angry about.

“No,” he says, taking the cone. “I obey my father’s will.”

From anyone else, Janaki would laugh, but she knows that he speaks the truth as he sees it. The Raghuvanshis raised the perfect scion, a boy right out of those terrible 90s Hindi films who saw their parents as God and venerated at the altar of increased profits. Yet, they chose to throw him like yesterday’s trash -- but no matter, because their loss is Janaki’s gain, and she knows him, knows what makes him happy and sad, and glad and mad.

She knows, for one, that he is angry and that he needs to acknowledge it before she can ask him to come back with her and start over.

“Yes,” she says, “you obeyed quite beautifully. That doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.”

“Don’t -- I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.”

She turns to look at him, jaw already clenched where usually it would take five times as long to get him to this state. He’s furious. Janaki’s heart aches in sympathy, longing to gather him up in her arms and tell him that it’s alright to be upset, that it would even be right to feel so, to kiss away the furrow in his beautiful brow and brush his curls behind his ear. But that would only make him close up, so instead --

“Don’t what?” she asks.

His entire body tightens, like a screw wound one turn too much. “I’m not upset,” he hisses, eyes flashing. “I’m fine!” Janaki brushes her hand over the one of his currently crushing the newspaper cone. As if burned, he lets go.

Sita sighs. “We don’t have to talk about it, but you’re clearly angry and it really isn’t healthy to keep it all in. There’s no one here at the beach, so I think you should just scream it out and try to move on with your life.” She’s not being entirely truthful, since she really does think he should talk about his family’s sudden and entire abandonment after years of encouraging near insane amounts of familial loyalty and emotional repression, but even this journey started out with a single step.

“You think I should... scream,” Rama says, eyebrow raised in perfect, aristocratic, condescension. Janaki nods.

“Just go out into the surf, scream at the top of your lungs for 20 seconds, and then we can leave no questions asked. I promise.”

“You won’t bring this up again,” he asks as if to confirm the terms of a business deal. Perhaps that’s what this is to him, finally back on familiar territory. Janaki shrugs, ignoring how her heart sinks to think of him seeing her care as nothing more than something to trade in order to keep away.

“For now.” At his frown, she shrugs again, allowing herself to smile a little. “If it looks like you’re struggling in the future, I’m definitely going to ask again.”

For a moment, Rama’s eyes widen in ...shock? Surprise? Was he not expecting for them to remain in each other’s lives? Janaki can’t allow herself to think too hard or long on the subject, especially since Rama has, without a word, risen and walked over to the surf.

He glances once over his shoulder, and Janaki waves in encouragement. He begins to scream.

20 seconds pass, and Janaki really does think he will stop and walk back, brushing off any questions and wandering back into the village they’ve decided to stay in this week. But then 30 pass, then a minute, and suddenly Rama is just screaming, knees falling into the waves and hands coming up to clutch and pull at his hair and Janaki is running as fast as she ever has to crash next to him in the wet sand. She shifts sideways, putting her body perpendicular to his so that her back is not to the waves but she can still look at his face -- he’s still screaming, doesn’t seem to have noticed her body next to his, tears streaming down his face. Janaki’s hands flail, but finally she realizes that she can only rely on the instincts that have led her the past few months to find him, to drag him on the back of her bike, to tell him to scream.

Janaki pulls Rama into her chest, her arms around him as she begins to weep along with him. Every time she tries to grasp the scale of the injustice done to him, she finds that her mind is too small. He was raised with every luxury, but with a conditional love that demanded a machine instead of a man. He’s stopped screaming, but has replaced it with gut wrenching sobs, hoarse from when his throat seems to have finally given out -- Janaki wonders when he last wept.

She loves him, she realizes, pressing an absent kiss into his hair. That’s what this feeling must be.

“You what?”

Oh, Janaki thinks, did I say that aloud?

“Ah,” she hears, “yes you did.” Rama raises his head, both of them still kneeling in the surf, tear tracks glistening down the cheeks he had just shaved at the request of an older lady who offered to house them if only he would look respectable. “Do you mean it?”

Janaki swallows, the pit in her stomach as large as it ever has been. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be -- she was supposed to convince him to come back with her, and then later talk about how she wants to kiss him silly.

“You want me to come back with you?” Oh for--

“Yes,” she says, confident that nothing she thinks now will remain within the privacy of her mind. “I want you to come back with me, and study to become a lawyer, and live with me as we try to make the world a better place.”

Rama’s eyes are wide, and Janaki wonders if she’s ever seen him look so fragile. He sputters.

“Fragile? I don’t look frag--”

Janaki laughs, bringing her hand up to cradle his cheek, right thumb brushing gently against his cheekbone. “Alright?”

Rama swallows, blinking his assent as if he suddenly can’t speak. A minute passes where the only sound is of the ocean waves crashing gently in front of them, water periodically flooding them up to their hips.

Rama clears his throat. “Do...” he takes a breath, “do you really think I could?”

“What,” Janaki asks, “become a lawyer?”

He nods. “Everything. I...” he looks away, and Janaki feels the beginning of euphoria. In his eyes there is fear, but not dread -- he wants what she wants, wants it bad. “My entire life I was trained to bring honor to our family name, to do that by making money and keeping my family members happy. I don’t--” Janaki’s thumb moves from his cheekbone to his lips, before he can say something idiotic like ‘I don’t know how to keep you happy.’ Rama laughs, eyes glistening with hopefully something other than tears.

“But I don’t know! Your needs are so different from the people I grew up with!”

Janaki leans forward until her forehead rests against his and their lips nearly touch. “I love you as you are,” she says, “the things I want, you’ve already given me.”

She can feel his brow crinkle, pressed as it is against hers. “I don’t own anything to give you!”

Janaki laughs: only the hideously rich could think so.

“I’m greedy,” she says, eyes closed as wave after wave of happiness floods her exponentially like the way the water of the high tide touches further and further parts of the land. “I want things that you’ve given no one else -- your grief, and joy, and triumph, and failure. I want to wake up with you, and go to sleep with you, and make breakfast with you, and dinner too. I want--”

Rama bridges the gap, and Janaki says no more. He gasps when they break apart, and a vicious part of her wants to ask if he’d kissed any of the high society women he’d been photographed with like that.

“No,” he laughs, and Janaki feels another thrill to see it. “It wouldn’t have been polite.” He leans back, bringing up his own hands to cup her entire head in his palms, lips curved in a wistful smile. “Everyday you confuse me.”

Janaki bites her lip when he doesn’t continue. “Do you like that?”

He shakes his head, and suddenly the pit comes roaring back. “I think I love it,” he says instead, smiling still. “I think I love you, Janaki.”

His smile widens, almost a full grin now. “My Jaan.”

#ramayana #maya writes #obviously this is just wish fulfillment #but he goes back with her becomes a lawyer #leaves behind the company #eventually probably reconciles with his family #definitely with his poor brothers stuck abroad who don't know wtf is happening #but he never goes back to running hte company esp when hes in love with communist sita #who gleefully talks about her 'class traitor' husband #he takes her last name when they marry eventually #oh i keep calling her sita on instinct instead of janaki #which is a change i made entirely based on how much nicer janaki videha rolled off the tongue than sita videha #its just a slight different but w/e #i still think sita is the prettier and better name tho #also...had to be janaki so that the nickname could be jaan #had to sneak that shit in ok its gold #but yeah he becomes a lawyer specializing in land rights cases vs the state #its all very sexy

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dayseternal-blog · 4 years

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A NaruHina fanfic based off of @shamylicious-blog doujinshi posted May 31, 2019. Please check out her 5-panel illustration!

Summary: Naruto, a skilled theater technician, and Hinata, a breakout pianist and composer, smile at each other.

Read Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here.

Chapter 4: More than you could ever know (END)

The day of, she’s surprised to find that she’s not nervous. She feels ready. She could almost describe herself as feeling...excited? Or is she misinterpreting the adrenaline running through her?

Her gown, hanging in the closet of her dressing room backstage, glitters despite the dark fabric.

An expensive gift from her workaholic father.

Who’s actually taking a night off from the 10:00 newscast to attend her first solo concert.

He never attended her competitions after her first one due to his work schedule, and they both reasoned that he heard enough of her practicing at home for him to know exactly what she would sound like in the concert hall, and it wasn’t worth his time if she was just one among many players.

It was his expectation that she would win in those days.

He hardly ever gave her anything beyond a “well done.” No flowers, no hugs, no wide smiles. Well, he was never an affectionate person, anyway. She grew up lonely, simply hoping for his approval in everything she did. And then, later, just trying to not be a bother or cause him worry of any kind.

She remembers she was stomach-achingly terrified to tell him that she wanted to stop competitions.

He had looked at her, attention fully on her, eyes narrowing, before asking, “Why?”

She could hardly get air to her lungs, but she hardened her resolve. “I want to focus on composition,” she somehow managed to say with hardly a tremor in her voice.

He paused, nodded, said, “Alright,” and that was that.

Maybe she should have expected such simple support. After all, the most she ever hears him speak is during his news reports. And she realized…he never forced her to compete. He never forced her to practice. He just paid for the lessons.

She just felt those expectations. Her father never actually said them.

She figured out during her year abroad in college that he expresses his care through working. Providing. Making money so that she can live comfortably and continue her passion.

She had always been grateful for everything he does, but once she framed it as his way of showing love to her, she started emailing him with her college stories more often.

He replied to every single one.

And he asked that she send him recordings of all of her compositions, no matter how short it was. She wondered if he missed hearing her play, though he never specifically said that.

So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her when he told her he wanted to attend her concert.

But it was really a huge surprise.

She fingers the silky fabric, heat coming to her eyes, a welling of emotion in her chest that she takes a deep breath through. In a few hours, she’ll be wearing this gown and bowing before an audience.

The number of people doesn’t matter to her. She would be happy with just an audience of her father.

“Hinata?” Two knocks on her ajar door interrupt her musings. “Your door’s open so I’m assuming--”

“Oh, yes!” She swipes her eyes quickly, gathering her tears away. “I’m ready to go.”

“Great!” Naruto pokes his head through the door, then widens it for her to step through. “We’re just going to one of our favorite cafes down the street.”

“Okay.”

She notices, again, his charming smile. Today, too, he’s grinning at her in a way that makes her lips pull up, makes her wonder what he’s always smiling about. She hopes he smiles like that later...when she gives him her thank you gift.

“How are you feeling for tonight?” he asks conversationally.

“Mmm…” She feels emotional. She feels readier than ever for a performance. “I feel good.”

“Yeah?”

“My father is coming tonight.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

She nods, agreeing with his words more than he could possibly realize.

She feels great.

Despite everything he’s come to learn about her over the course of the week, he’s surprised.

On stage, in front of an audience just for her, she’s relaxed, at ease, focused...a picture of elegance. Dressed in a figure-fitting midnight gown, she’s beyond stunning, like she was born to be on the stage in the spotlight.

Her form when she bows to the audience. Her poise at the piano as she plays. And then...her sound.

He heard her in the drama and on her website’s recordings. Her heard her during her warm-ups and the parts she played at the rehearsal.

It’s not the same.

It’s no mystery to him at all how she won so many competitions. How she got this opportunity through the drama. Yes, talent. Certainly, hard work. But it takes more than knowing the instrument to make it on your own.

A musician’s charisma, an energy and emotion amplified before an audience.

Her sound touches and stirs his imagination, to the point he can clearly remember the same impact the drama had in certain scenes. Or recall the stories she told him about the people she’s met and places she’s been to.

Even without the lighting he designed for tonight’s show, she would still be spectacular to see and listen to live.

He can see what every judge or observer noticed before him. This girl is going places. She’s in love with music, and music returns her love twice-fold.

Does she even have space for someone like him in her life?

She never much enjoyed speaking into a microphone, but after holding the entire audience captive for over an hour with her music, she doesn’t feel embarrassed. She gives her little speech more easily than she predicted to thank everyone for coming, Picture Tomorrow’s production team and staff who are in attendance, her piano instructor, her father.

It was one of the best performances she’s ever given.

It amazes her that the night is nearly over. She made it through without making a fool of herself.

And so many people helped her for a night like tonight. So she takes a stabilizing breath and continues, “Finally, thank you to the HKT team--” She extends an arm toward the booth in the house, then to her right, toward the workers off-stage, toward Naruto. “--for helping me put together this show for tonight. I have one last song, not listed on the program, that I composed this week to show my appreciation. It’s called… ‘At home in your smile.’”

She gives a bow, then returns to her seat.

She easily finds the smooth keys, like gentle water beneath her touch.

She smiles, as she always does when she thinks of him.

The notes translate from her fingers into the afternoon breeze kissing laughing cheeks, rich trees throwing sun-spotted shadows on historic streets, an irreplaceable warmth she’ll remember forever in the rhythms of a familiar downtown charm, golden, blue, and hopeful beats.

It’s his song.

Filling the darkest, tallest corners of the theater. Lively tones chasing each other playfully in a game of light, air, and saturated color. His sound glowing against each person’s skin, mind, and heart.

Now everyone can know just a fraction of what she’s seen and felt since meeting him. How she’s never met anyone so unguardedly cheerful. So at ease in himself and with others, as if he has all of himself to give, none of himself to hold back. He’s that one summer’s day so acute in youthful abandon--nothing could ever be so perfect, nothing will ever again be so perfect.

How he embodies a dream is one she could explore over and over again, let the music carry her through the complexities of his mind, let every chord delight in her contemplation.

It’s so easy for her soul to sing to him.

She’s written many songs inspired by people she has met in passing, yet she’s never gifted these secret melodies in the transitions of her life.

But for once it only felt right that he know.

And when the curtains are drawn, the lingering applause finally dies, and the murmurings of the audience rise and fall away, she knows that now is the time to tell him.

She nears the wings, and he starts clapping again, his refreshing smile wide and sincere, welcoming her. “That was great, Hinata! Really amazing!! More incredible than the rehearsal, and that last song! Wow! I can’t believe you made that in a week!”

“Thank you--” Her breath catches for a second, her sudden hesitation inexplicable.

A voice comes over his headset, his expression turning to business immediately as he answers.

The curtains of the wings on the opposite side are pulling up, and men are already starting to push the piano off-stage.

She quickly realizes that he’s still working.

He’s busy.

And whatever she was planning on saying, whatever it was she wanted to say, doesn’t have a place right now.

She can feel the adrenaline of the show swiftly beginning to drain from her body, embarrassment shifting into the place where confidence once stood.

What was it she wanted to say, anyway?

And what response was she hoping for from him?

She doesn’t even know him that well!

He just knows a lot about her, she shared so much about herself because he asked so many questions during their meeting, and did that all go to her head? The connection she feels with him must be one-sided...to him...she’s just another performer he’s working with…

She heads toward the doors to backstage, hoping to make a quick escape from her near-mistake.

“Hinata! Wait!”

She pauses, one hand on the door.

“The strike will be really fast.” He gestures behind him, where the main curtains are pulling up, revealing an empty house and a bare stage. “We only have to take the lights down, and uh. I have something to give you after, so before you leave, well, even if we’re not done yet, can you come back?”

She blinks at him. Something to give me? Flowers? A card? Or just something she accidentally forgot on a previous day?

“You can just call out at me if I don’t notice right away,” he adds, an uncertain look beginning to pinch on his face. “It won’t take long if..uh..your dad’s waiting for you?...”

She nods quickly, hoping to ease his misgivings. “I’ll come back. And my father will meet me at home.”

His smile is a lot smaller than his usual, his jaw working like he’s processing a secret, then turns around to help the rest of the crew.

She hurries back to her dressing room. And as she changes her clothes, she can’t help feeling a slight constriction in her chest, a slight sickness in her gut.

But it’s not unpleasant.

It’s too giddy.

She doesn’t want to hope for anything. She doesn’t want to lead herself on. It might really be nothing. Or even if it is flowers, maybe he does that for all the performers. Maybe it’s a HKT tradition among the crew to gift the performer a little something.

She gathers her things, trying to steady the race of her heart.

She opens her door--

He’s standing right there, leaning against the wall.

Her heart spasms with surprise.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” He straightens.

She’s panting from the shock.

“Sorry,” he says again, but he looks like he wants to laugh.

He’s holding a bouquet of bright orange roses.

She blinks at it, trying to compose herself. Could that be for her? But maybe it’s not for her, it could be for someone else--who else would it be for, though? It must be for her... “...Are you guys done already?”

“Oh, no, but, it’s okay.” He lifts up the bouquet. “This is for you.”

She stares for a second before taking it. This is really for me? Well, of course it is. “Wow,” she breathes. “Thank you.”

He’s standing there, still, just smiling.

She doesn’t know what to say. She can only smile back. “...Orange roses.”

“Haha, yeah,” he laughs, his eyes drifting away as if he’s embarrassed by a memory. “I know it’s weird, maybe I should’ve just gone with the red? I would’ve gotten pink, but there weren’t any, but with the red roses, I didn’t want to come off as...yeah.” He abruptly stops himself there, suddenly staring straight at her. “...Would you--”

“Oh no I--” She realizes she spoke at the same time as him.

He shakes his head, biting his lips. “Go on.”

“Ah, sorry.” She doesn’t want to make this any more awkward, so she continues, “I just wanted to tell you that I love them. I’ve never gotten orange roses before. They’re beautiful.”

He smiles, significantly happier than before.

“And…” She takes a deep breath. She can’t believe she’s about to tell him this, but he really deserves to know. “You know that last song I played tonight?”

He nods.

“It was inspired by you,” she murmurs, only just loud enough for him to hear.

She watches his face morph--his blue eyes widen, his pleased smile shift into confusion. “Uhh, that last song not on the program?”

She nods.

“You wrote it about me?” He points to his chest as if he needs to make sure.

She nods again, nerves making her bounce on her toes a bit. “I am really glad to have met you,” she starts, finding self-assurance in the truth of it. “I loved coming here and working with...with you and seeing your smile. Your smile brightens even the darkest theater.”

His jaw drops slightly, red visibly tinging his cheeks. His expression bursts into a grin, which he quickly covers with his hand, seemingly now self-conscious to show her the subject of her composition.

She really can’t help smiling just as goofily as him.

“Ahh!” he strongly exclaims, his arms falling wide open, hands stretched out before clenching tightly shut.

She jumps, only to quickly see that he’s still just as happy as before.

“Aw man, Hinata!"

The juxtaposition of his words and expressions confuse her, but she loves that about him, too. "...Naruto-kun?"

His grin softens. "Go on a date with me!” He gazes earnestly at her. “Will you go on a date with me?”

She nods, a blush of her own overtaking her cheeks. “Mhm, I'd like that.”

He sighs, as if letting go of a huge weight. “Great!” He’s smiling at her, wide, unguarded, pure. “That’s great.”

She nods. It really is. She’s already looking forward to it. More than he could possibly know.

“Monday. Lunch? Is that okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I call you?”

“Uh-huh,” she affirms again, still soaking in his smile, still helplessly smiling back.

“Can I walk you out?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll call you to sort out details. I can’t wait for Monday,” he shamelessly adds.

“Me, too.”

He stops at the doorway to outside, gazing at her.

Before she can second-guess herself, she tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the roses. Thank you for everything.” She steps back, reveling in his awed silence, gratified by his look of bliss, and then reluctantly waves good-bye.

He stands at the entrance, watching her go, until she turns the corner and can’t see him anymore.

He’s sweet. The sweetest guy she’s ever met.

And already she can hear a new, bubbling melodic tune in her heart. Only the second one of many more she’s certain she’ll tenderly grow in her wonder of his everything, in her efforts to capture each shared moment more perfect than the last.

No matter how their date will end, she knows she’s found someone special.

He’s going to change her, irreparably, certainly.

But she thinks…

She wants to be that person. She’ll be more herself than ever before.

She really can’t wait.

#thank you shamy!#naruhina fanfic #music au #theatre au #modern au #piano au #shamylicious-blog #romance #fluff #thank you for reading!

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adamwatchesmovies · 4 years

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Adam Watches the 92nd Academy Awards

The 92nd Academy Awards have come and gone. As always, there’s plenty to be happy about and plenty that’ll make you wonder what the heck the voters were thinking. I watched the ceremony and while I may say that I don’t care… I do. Those awards are a big deal. Legions of people who would’ve otherwise dismissed Parasite as some movie that requires them to read subtitles saw it because it was nominated. One of those golden statues can make a career and let’s face it, you like to hear your love for something validated by people who have even the semblance of authority on the subject.

But here’s what you may not know: most of the voters really don’t know what they’re doing. While cinematographers NOMINATE what films are up for that Best Cinematography Award, EVERYONE in the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences gets to vote for the winner and there’s no guarantee they’ve actually seen every nominee, know what the technical terms mean or are voting because what they saw is what they actually believe was “the best”. Once you take into account the dollars required to produce a nomination campaign, the stigma many genre films face, the prejudices against certain types of roles and/or actors, and how popularity influences votes, a win hardly means more than a bunch of people you don’t know saying they liked a movie.

If you want a better idea of which of 2019’s films were “the best”, you’re better off asking someone you know and trust, someone who can prove they’ve done their homework and aren’t just voting for their friends, the one they’ve heard is good from their kid, or got a special gift basket from. I may not be a paid professional, but I have put in the time and effort to see EVERYTHING nominated (with a few exceptions I’ll detail below). Reviews for some of these (The Irishman, Judy) are coming to the blog in a couple of days. If it were up to me the list of nominees would be different but we’ll get to that later. Without further ado, here’s who SHOULD’VE won.

Best Visual Effects

1917 – Guillaume Rocheron, Greg Butler, and Dominic Tuohy The best special effects are the kind you don’t even notice. I couldn’t tell you where the explosions, sets, and actors in 1917 begin, and where the computer-generated imagery takes over. It’s seamless.

Best Film Editing

Parasite – Yang Jin-mo Got to hand it to Parasite for its amazing use of montage and the way it stitched its footage together. Some shots I initially thought initially were one take I realized under carefully scrutiny - and by that I mean frame-by-frame examination - were actually two melded together. The scenes showing how the Kim family infiltrate the Park’s household should be shown in film class to demonstrate how the art of montage is at its best should be done to maximum effect.

Best Costume Design

Little Women – Jacqueline Durran Funny how every single film nominated at the 92nd Academy Awards was a period piece. My vote goes to Little Women not because it was necessarily the most accurate (I couldn’t tell you what people wore in 1868) but because of the way the costumes were used. You can tell a lot about the characters from the multiple outfits they wear throughout the film - check out that purple bonnet adorned by Aunt Marsh (Meryl Streep).

Best Makeup and Hairstyling

Bombshell – Kazu Hiro, Anne Morgan, and Vivian Baker I called it when I reviewed the film. The makeup used to transform John Lithgow was nothing short of incredible. It was an easy pick.

Best Cinematography

1917 – Roger Deakins I’m glad to see The Lighthouse on this list but I have to hand it to 1917. The one-shot motif adds so much to the story. Then, there are the individual shots I remember so vividly. The quiet meadow just outside of No Man’s Land, the raging inferno Schofield sees when he wakes up, the trench he must run in front of to reach the Colonel are all shots that permanently imprint themselves into your memory.

Best Production Design

1917 – Production Design: Dennis Gassner; Set Decoration: Lee Sandales Tempted to hand it to Parasite for the house they constructed for the movie but I’m give it to 1917. The trenches, the blasted landscape of No Man’s Land still haunt me. When you see the craters, it’s jarring. Then, as your eyes become adjusted, you notice the rats. Then, the chunks of bone and charred meat that have now become part of the landscape. It’s horrific.

Best Sound Mixing

Ford v Ferrari – Paul Massey, David Giammarco, and Steven A. Morrow What you remember most from Ford v Ferrari is that big race at the end. The climax wouldn’t have been the same without the sounds we heard. The roar of the engines, the clacking and grinding as the pedals are pushed and gears are switched… the air rushing by. Out of the nominees, it’s the one whose sounds I most remember.

Best Sound Editing

Ford v Ferrari – Donald Sylvester This year, the Best Sound Editing award goes hand-in-hand with the sound mixing. Obviously, the actors were never moving at the kind of speeds depicted in Ford v Ferrari but you wouldn’t be able to tell because of the foley and sound design.

Best Original Song

Stand Up from Harriet – Music and Lyrics by Joshuah Brian Campbell and Cynthia Erivo Stand Up plays during the end credits of Harriet and it perfectly caps the film. Whenever I hear its lyrics, I’m transported back to that moment. It’s the most memorable and emotional song on this list.

Best Original Score

Joker – Hildur Guðnadóttir I chose the best song for its ability to stand out. In this category, Joker wins because its music doesn’t stand out… at least not at first. While you’re watching, those notes don’t draw attention to themselves. They subconsciously build the mood, augmenting the performance by Joaquin Phoenix, the visuals, and the story. You don’t notice how much of an effect it has on you until you see isolated clips. When you do, it’s shocking.

Best Animated Short Film

Abstaining (I’ve only seen Hair Love)

Best Live Action Short Film

Abstaining

Best Documentary Short Subject

Abstaining

Best Documentary Feature

Abstaining

Best International Feature Film

Abstaining, as I’ve only seen 2 films (Pain and Glory and Parasite)

Best Animated Feature Film

I Lost My Body – Jérémy Clapin and Marc du Pontavice I Lost My Body is the most audacious and inspired of the animated films nominated. The only movie among these to be aimed at adults, it often tells its story through visuals alone but when you get to the end, you realize it’s about more than just what was on-screen.

Best Adapted Screenplay

Little Women – Greta Gerwig based on the novel by Louisa May Alcott Greta Gerwig does more than merely adapt the classic novel, she breathes new life into it, makes it her own, makes it feel wholly new and modern. This version of the film surpasses all others we’ve seen before because of the changes she’s made to the story’s structure.

Best Original Screenplay

Knives Out – Rian Johnson What a ride Knives Out was. It’s got so many twists and turns, so many delightful characters you want to re-watch it the second it’s over so that you are no longer distracted by its central mystery and can simply step back and admire the handiwork by Rian Johnson. A sequel’s been announced and I can’t wait to see it.

Best Supporting Actress

Laura Dern – Marriage Story as Nora Fanshaw Laura Dern was also in Little Women and her two roles couldn’t be more different. Here, she’s loathsome and captivating. As soon as I saw Nora take off her shoes before she kneeled down on the couch to console Nicole, I knew there was a whole lot more to her character than what we were told. The more you see her, the more you want.

Best Supporting Actor

Al Pacino – The Irishman as Jimmy Hoffa Al Pacino has the advantage of getting A LOT of screen time as Jimmy Hoffa. The Irishman clocks in at over 3,5 hours and he isn’t in the whole movie but when he is, the seasoned performer gives us so much. At different periods of the story, you’ll feel differently about him. There’s no point comparing him to the real-life person. He takes the meaty role and makes it his own. His voice, his mannerisms, I can’t think of anyone who could’ve done it better.

Best Actress

Renée Zellweger – Judy as Judy Garland Judy was the very last movie on my list to watch, having missed it when it came to theatres. When I think back to Zellweger’s performance, I don’t see her. All I see is her character, a rich, complex person you sometimes hate, sometimes love and feel sorry for. The movie is not going to be on my “Best of” list but she is.

Best Actor

Joaquin Phoenix – Joker as Arthur Fleck / Joker To me, there was no question Joaquin Phoenix would take this one. I saw Joker three times and each time, I found something new in his performance.

Best Director

Sam Mendes – 1917 With this award, I’m awarding Sam Mendes for the craft he displayed in 1917. It’s such a visceral experience that when people asked me how it compared to Dunkirk, it felt weird to lump both together. This is coming from someone who gave both pictures a 5-star review, who put both on their respective “best of the year” lists. It’s a movie I’m going to go back to and wondering “how did they do that?!

Best Picture

Little Women – Amy Pascal It’s a tough call for me this year, partially because I loved Parasite, 1917, Joker, and others so much. I’m planning on adding those three films to my collection so I can pop them into my Blu-ray player any times I feel like it. That said, I would’ve given the Best Picture Award to Little Women. You’re so emotionally invested in this little story that telling you why with merely words is impossible. You fall in love over and over. It made me cry and every time I think back to that scene at Christmas, I tear up again. I’m choosing it because of all the things it does differently from the other films. At the end of the day, it isn’t a big story. It isn’t about people with guns, corruption, war, a turning point in history or even necessarily the biggest event in the lives of the characters but it feels like it is. That’s exactly why it’s so good.

Disagree with my choices? I don’t blame you. What kind of idiot finds a way to leave out Marriage Story from their list? You let me know where it should’ve gone. Hopefully, commenting keep you warm until MY Best of 2019 list gets posted in the next few days.

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