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#and i was like 'sports are a beautiful culmination of life and stories in one game!'
weshipyourride · 3 months
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Why do we love the Tour de France?
Before even the first pedal stroke of stage 1, the 2024 edition of the Tour de France has already surprised us. The grandest of the Grand Tours is historically a July road classic. Its name, which literally means "tour of France," traditionally culminates in a largely ceremonial stage parading through Paris.
But this year the Tour de France will start in June. It will contain a “gravel stage.” It will spend the first two stages in Italy. And the final stage will be a potentially GC-determining individual time trial in Nice, France instead of a casual parade down the Champs-Élysées in Paris.
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Photos by @ashleygruber @jeredgruber
Putting aside the fascinating structural changes that will make this Tour unique, the sheer competition from this extensive cast of talented riders and the story lines (that Netflix has so "eloquently" elevated) will undoubtedly make for 21 of the most riveting stages of bike racing, like only the Tour de France can provide. Will 2024 serve as the Pogačar-Vingegaard rubber match to break the 2-2 tie? Will Mark Cavendish sprint to his record-breaking 35th stage win in his last Tour?
The Tour chatter in the Bikeflights internal chat threads is heating up. Many of us have our Tour de France fantasy teams strategically set for stage 1. Because after all, we’re not just an official service of the Tour de France, we’re also big fans.
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“I love the Tour, for it puts my daily drama into perspective," said Bikeflights President William Alcorn.
Customer Experience Lead Lifan Irwin finds watching the Tour to be an inspiration beyond simply being a cyclist, saying, “I’m not inspired specifically to ride to be honest, but more to strive for goals, and I find it a great motivator to keep rolling."
Some, like Customer Experience Associate Briana Valorosi use the Tour to indulge in a cycling discipline she otherwise doesn’t participate in, saying, "It's inspiring to see the superhuman strengths of these riders, and to spectate a sector of cycling that I don't personally engage in. I'm a mountain biker, but I have so much respect for these road riders and the way they continue to carry forth this historic event!"
Vice President Sue George similarly likes to view the Tour from the perspective of her preferred cycling discipline.
"My favorite riders are the mountain bikers! It's impressive how many of the current best riders have the skill sets and mindsets to race at the highest level on both dirt and pavement," she said.
Customer Engagement Manager Gordon Wadsworth relishes in the Tour’s ability to raise cycling to the consciousness of non-cyclists for at least one month per year.
“Most of all I love that cycling becomes a trending topic within more than just my small community. For the month of July everyone I know asks me about the Tour. And it’s delightful," he said.
But as a competitive cyclist himself, he can’t help viewing it through a competitive cyclist’s lens, saying, "As an athlete I love seeing my sport executed to perfection. I love the current phase of cycling being a confluence of heart and science," Gordon said.
Gordon summed up his feelings, saying, "To me it brings together incredible racing action, brilliant scenic beauty and true life stories like few other sports endeavors. When an entire country is the stadium the visuals never stop coming."
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Customer Experience Associate Patricia Schwager can trace her pursuit of cycling to the Tour and quality time with her grandfather.
"I remember watching the Tour on TV as a kid with my grandfather. It definitely had an impact and is one of the things that inspired me to get a road bike and start racing bikes," she said.
And Customer Experience Associate Garrett Bonenberger, another Bikeflights Team member firmly in the mountain bike camp, couldn’t hide his bias when talking about watching the Tour, saying, "I always enjoy watching the different stages … seeing if someone will attempt to jump the peloton on a mountain bike again."
Regardless of the perspective on the Tour, the grandest and most exciting bike race in the world will no doubt give us plenty to talk about and be inspired by long after stage 21 ends.
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canongf-archive · 2 years
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Me reading the tags of your post: 😏 Oh? 😏
~ @nikkzships
ASDKJFLKASJDLKFA listen @nikkzships...
it was just really nice... like. he and i have only ever really talked in passing but this time we just connected. we talked for for like 5-6 hours straight. we were talking in a group with the rest of the party and then we kinda branched away and talked, just us. about tv shows and movies and sports and human nature and religion and politics and our passions and likes and dislikes and we opened up about how we both sort of feel like we're in a transition state, we talked about our fear and uncertainty of the future. it was like all very intimate and deep but at the same time it was really easy and natural and we laughed a bunch and i don't know! i don't know! it was really nice! also he's got dark hair and dark eyes and nice teeth and he's like 6'5... much to think about.
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wh0re-cha-ta · 2 years
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I’m not gonna ask who you support bc it clearly shows who. (I’m on neither side). They both f’ed up. The only difference now is one never laid a hand on spouses, the other has a DV paper already with an ex girlfriend. Text’s versus pictures. One who doesn’t look the other in the eyes while the other one smirks every time abuse is mentioned.
Neither is innocent but the outcome will hopefully give justice to … Depp. I’m on neither side because we don’t know the whole story. But actions create more damage than just words on text messages. Venting is a thing.
This case could really be solved with one admission. He admitted to headbutting her on tape. “I headbutted you in the fucking forehead. That doesn’t break a nose” since this is a defamation trial over one line in an op ed where Amber wrote “I have become a figure representing domestic abuse”, all she needs to prove is that he hit her one time for it not to be defamation. This is much like the UK trial, where the Sun called him a “wife beater”. All they needed to prove was that Depp hit his wife one time. He did, and the judge found in The Sun’s favor. Please remember that he is the one taking her to court, choosing to air their dirty laundry, putting her through pain when she just wants to get on with her life. He has said as much himself that he doesn’t care about the result of the case, he just wanted to air it out, presumably to punish Amber for ever speaking out.
The case with her ex is pretty clear cut too. They had an altercation, the police blew it out of proportion because (according to Amber’s ex) they were homophobic. Her ex has since called Amber “a beautiful person inside and out” and has stood by her since, saying she was not abusive in their relationship. As for Johnny, his ex Ellen Barkin describes paranoid controlling behavior, much like what Amber describes. Culminating in him throwing a wine bottle at her (Barkin) with full force. That’s much more dangerous.
Let’s talk about text versus pictures. Amber has documentation of her bruises, she had multiple witnesses corroborate that they saw her with chunks of her hair missing, and she has audio recordings of him admitting to hitting her (see the headbutting comment). I think a lot of people misunderstand this case because a visual trial is probably the worst way for a layman to experience a case.
I think part of the issue is that most Americans understanding of the legal system comes from the last 15 minutes of Legally Blonde. Like that one tiny detail (like the perm in the movie) is the lynchpin of the whole case. People hone in on tiny discrepancies that any human would have after being on the stand for 21 hours (like Amber has been) recounting what happened 7 years ago, precisely as it happened. This is how human memory works, it can be murky esp if you’re experiencing trauma. Lawyers seize on these tiny flaws because it’s a spectacle and it’s their job. This is most infamously shown in the OJ Simpson trial, where the glove became the lynchpin of the case, despite the fact it had very little to do with the evidence. If you read the case files, it’s very clear why Depp lost his case in the UK, and lost both appeals.
I understand that this is a lot to parse but I highly encourage people to read the case files and not treat this trial like a sports game or boxing match. This is going to have broad ramifications for victims in the future who have seen this trial and feel like no one will believe them. Right wing media has also seized on this as an excuse to say the whole MeToo movement was bullshit. Ben Shapiro at the Daily Wire has spent $50,000 advertising about this trial in order to discredit Amber and say women are incentivized to make false allegations in these cases, which is simply not the truth.
I would keep this in mind when Depp’s BFF Marilyn Manson goes through with his case against Evan Rachel Wood (and many other victims), who claim he tortured and raped her using real Nazi memorabilia (bc she’s Jewish) when she was 18. Wonder how he got the idea to sue her for defamation. 🤔 I would also suggest that we just leave this woman alone. Regardless of who you think is right, she is a human. Not a monster, not a sociopath, but a human being who would like to move on from the worst time in her life.
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pinkhairedlily · 3 years
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Chapter 2 - Student Council President Sakura
SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER
Sasuke skipped out during the cultural festival just like he did back in the last year of his middle school, content in hearing nothing but his own breath, the bustle outside his window, the sporadic chirping of the birds in early mornings and late afternoons, the shuffle of feet from his neighbors and the occasional clanking of dishes. When hours extended late into the evening, the activities would be replaced by the muffled night life that seemed like eons away but was actually just five blocks far and so he would pick out the drums, the bass drops, and the rave chaos and fall asleep when the crowds pack up, but not all days were like these. He would stay awake well past the closing time with silence confronting his consciousness, and his only friend would be the CD collection of a Japanese artist called The Charm Park from a previous tenant who left it behind. He spent his winter break like this.
When spring term came around, Sasuke noticed a shift around Naruto. The tiptoeing was still there, but it lessened to an extent where his classmates would greet him ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ while they walked to their hideout. He was right in not asking because the blonde eventually overshared everything.
The second years held an impromptu race before the culmination. Naruto, eager to get the front seat view, pushed against the crowds, incidentally landed on the track, became the representative of the first years, and won the race. Ultimately, it ended on a good note despite the rookie athletes being overshadowed, and Naruto’s bully magnet has transformed into some sort of people magnet. His classmates have asked him for lunch several times in the presence of Sasuke, but Naruto turned them down.
“You can ask for shares in their bento boxes or struck gold and have them make you one,” Sasuke said. “You don’t need to litter around here.”
“I feel sorry for you,” Naruto replied, grinning while handing him a juice carton.
It was cherry tomato flavored – an unusual choice for the simple-minded Naruto who would easily settle on an orange or grapefruit juice. Sasuke understood this was the blonde’s kind of pull on people, and he heard what he tried to say between the lines. “It’s the stares.”
“And the request for the background story no one really wants to hear.”
Sasuke sipped the last of the juice from the carton. “Just think of it as your villain origin story.”
“But I want to be a hero and do main character things!”
He crumpled the juice carton in his hands and playfully threw it towards Naruto, perfectly landing in the middle of the styled spikes. “You simpleton.” The blonde gave him an intense glare and threw the carton back to Sasuke, missing the small smile that formed on the latter’s lips.
When the last term wrapped up, student rankings were finally pinned in the major hallway entrance. Sasuke was itching to go home and eat a pack of instant ramen, but Naruto picked him up from his classroom and dragged him to the hallway. As usual, there were the awed and open-eyed stares, basically confirming that he placed first, but there was also clear contempt towards his nonchalance.
“You are really a genius, Sasuke.” Naruto patted him on the back – soft, gentle pats, reassuring, and proud. It was like the ones given to him by his parents when he placed first or won a contest. All of a sudden, the place was too stifling, and his hand unconsciously went to his throat to massage it, hoping he could get rid of the thing that was blocking his airway.
A hand with a bluish fingernail shot out from his dimming sight and brought him back to reality. It was Sakura holding out her hand for a handshake. “I guess you beat me…by 0.5 point.”
“You had a bet with Sasuke, Sakura?” Naruto asked. In between the cultural festival and the spring term, the two had become familiar with each other, occasionally greeting each other in the hallways between classes, but Sakura never had a direct interaction with Sasuke.
“Yes, during the cultural festival,” the walking cherry blossoms happily replied. Her hand was still struck out, earning questioning glances from the surrounding student body because who would dare ignore the unofficial darling of the school?
“It wasn’t a bet.” Sasuke tugged on Naruto’s collar. “Let’s go, Naruto.” He turned with the blonde in tow, but Hatake Kakashi blocked his way. He had on a protective stance with crossed arms and slight brow raise. The book he was always carrying was peeking out from his pants’ pocket.
“Don’t leave a girl waiting for a handshake, Mr. Uchiha. That’s disrespectful in a competition.” His lips were curved in that consistent ambiguous smile that highlighted the beauty mark on his chin. Kakashi firmly grabbed Sasuke’s hand in the next seconds and placed it on Sakura’s still open palm.
Contrary to his assumption, her palm was rugged with rough contours and with evident history of calluses – the hands of a hard worker. Sasuke wanted to blame his stored prejudices on her cherry pink hair. He looked up, annoyed and wanting to get his hand off from her hold but was frozen in place by the visible flush on her face. Oblivious of his effect, Kakashi’s grip remained on Sasuke’s hand in an attempt of a handshake. “That seals the deal this term. Looking forward to your competition next term.” The spectators rode on the teacher’s easy-going energy and shrugged off this weird encounter.
Naruto was the one who tugged on Sasuke’s collar and pulled him away from the crowd. The latter immediately shoved his hands inside his pockets and walked away briskly. Ever so briefly, Sasuke glanced back and saw Kakashi patting Sakura’s shoulder, probably offering congratulations, and validating her. He wondered whether the teacher noticed the subtle hair tuck or the redness of her ears and nape. Naruto’s arm blocked his view as the blonde placed it around his shoulders, snickering and praising his ‘friend’s genius skills’ all the way to the school gates where they eventually separated and welcomed the summer break.
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Not a week into summer Naruto hunted Sasuke down and knocked incessantly on his door. “Grumpy! Save me!”
“If you’re on the verge of dying, call 119.” Sasuke increased the volume of the cd player to drown out the noise. The knocks stopped after a few seconds which gave Sasuke temporary relief.
“Sasuke!”
Nope, he wasn’t gone. “What do you want?”
“Math remedial classes. In exchange, I have ramen.”
No one really visited him and so if he would open the door, Naruto would be his first ever visitor. Sasuke tried to ascertain his feelings – whether he was angry that someone intruded in his personal space or relieved he didn’t need to be alone with his thoughts.
“You better brought a lot,” Sasuke said as he opened the door. Naruto held up an eco-bag full of ramen, chips, and soda. On his other arm were their school books and Math notebook.
“You’re hopeless.” Naruto’s scores were averaging between 40s and 50s. “I thought you were on scholarship?”
“There’s no academic crap so I’m good.” Naruto kept on glancing around Sasuke’s apartment, noting the neat line-up of books, the opened cases of CDs, the lack of television, and the closed curtains over the wide full-length windows. “How come your apartment is cleaner and bigger? I could never keep my space clean. It takes so much energy!”
“I have the better side of the coin, remember?”
“Eh but your fridge is empty,” Naruto noted as he started to cook ramen.
“As if yours isn’t. Besides, don’t you need to study first?”
“No, no, no. Haven’t you heard of positive reinforcement? Incentive first before the hard work!”
For the next two weeks, Naruto came over with ramen packs and Sasuke would help him with Math classes. On the last day, he accompanied Naruto to school as the blonde submitted his requirements.
“Thank you, personal tutor. Because of you, I have passed my make-up classes and can now enjoy the remaining days of summer!” Naruto punched his fists in the air, invigorated by his academic freedom. “So what are your plans?”
“Leave me alone. That’s your payment.” Sasuke quickly said, followed with a sigh. His social battery was down, and he believed it was already swimming in negatives.
Naruto yelled a greeting to someone and damned if Sasuke knew who it was, but he was suddenly being dragged into a baseball field. Naruto had quite the strength, and Sasuke just knew he was lifting weights in his free time.
“Mind filling in? We’re just short for two in a practice game.”
“Yes, I mind,” Sasuke said without missing a beat. “Naruto, I hate you.”
Naruto gave him a very worn-out mitt while he swung the batt over his shoulder. “Just one game. I’ll have ramen delivered to your apartment.”
Sasuke released a sigh again. What a drag.
The players settled in their respective places, Sasuke stayed on the pitcher’s mound, and Naruto was the batter. The catcher signaled him to release the ball. Relying on his muscle memory, Sasuke pitched a curve ball towards Naruto, and the blonde easily hit it towards homerun.
“Sasuke! Great pitch!” Naruto ran towards him with his arms ready for a hug but Sasuke dodged the attempt.
“What a monster pitch. Are you sure you don’t want to try out?” the second years asked. Naruto was obviously very taken with the sport and didn’t miss the chance to start talking with the members. When the question was asked, he turned to Sasuke with a silent plea in his eyes, but Sasuke knew it wasn’t the place he can belong in.
“You have Naruto. He seems to be a great batter, don’t you think so?” Sasuke said.
“Well, if it came from the genius Uchiha Sasuke, then we gotta take Naruto in.”
Sasuke waved goodbye to Naruto who decided to stay for the remaining of the practice game. He didn’t have the energy to feel sorry for himself, having been left alone again by someone who found a better place. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t like baseball. It was his brother’s favorite game.
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“When is Itachi coming back?” He kept on rolling the car windows up and down on his side, sick of the sights of the endless sea and the cliffs. “Why does he need to go to England when there are good schools here?”
“That’s where the best medical program is, Sasuke. Your brother is just chasing his dreams.” His mother turned to him from the passenger side. “When he graduates, let’s all go visit him in Oxford.”
“Let’s have him pay for our Euro trip,” his father jokingly added.
His father was a careful driver – his eyes never left the road, he rode with a constant speed that was neither fast nor slow, he was careful with blind curves. In his lifetime, he got a parking ticket once when his wife’s water broke in the office, and he haphazardly parked across the lane to quickly get to her and ensure the safe delivery of their youngest.
His father was a careful driver, but others were not. A motorcycle shot out of nowhere while they were turning on a blind curve. The car veered to the other side facing the sea and the cliffs, the tires sliding forward and then downward, loud thumps as if repeatedly beaten by waves on rocky shores, and finally a loud crash.
Sasuke was disoriented. The sun was setting on the ocean, but he smelled gasoline instead of the salty air. He had an inkling his forehead was cut because the blood was hindering his sight. He heard grunting noises and pained screams from his parents, but he didn’t know if they were still in front of him or under him, but he felt someone pull him out of the car.
Thank goodness all three of them were still alive.
“You’re bleeding. Sasuke, Sasuke, here a handkerchief.” His mother’s face was cut across, and her one eye was gouged out. She firmly put the bloody handkerchief in his trembling hands. “Go, put it on your forehead.”
His father. Where was his father? He was already lying down on the sand. That was weird. Weren’t sand supposed to be gray? Why was it red? Why was it bloody red? His father’s one hand was on his side, the red water flowing through his fingers’ tight clasp. He reached out his other arm to Sasuke’s leg, patting it reassuringly. “Are you okay, son?”
His mother was coughing now. And then there was a loud explosion. It was deafening and roaring and then Sasuke heard nothing.
He heard nothing but waves for the next twelve hours. Maybe he was just asleep, and this was just a long nightmare. Then the sirens came.
Sasuke woke up drenched in a cold sweat, his mouth dry, and his heartbeat convulsing in its own chamber. He probably screamed again. He checked the digital clock on his bedside table, and it blinked back eights at him. “What a useless thing.”
Regardless of the time, he slipped into his sweatpants and hoodie and made his way downtown. He saw a café with cream puffs on display and decided to order one as his dinner. Just tonight.
“Hello, good evening. What are you buying?” A cheery voice greeted him on the counter.
He quietly pointed at one plate of cream puffs. “And one iced latte for dine-in.” There was a flash of recognition when his eyes met those of the girl on the counter.
She was dressed in the usual neutral black and white get-up of café employees, her hair was black and cropped short below her neck, she had light make-up on – it was a good disguise to throw off her scent, but her emerald eyes were a giveaway.
“Got that.” She brushed this off so easily that he thought he imagined the previous scene. Never mind, he didn’t even want to ask. His demons were enough to occupy his headspace. He stood silent, looking aimlessly at the handwritten menus while she prepared his coffee. “Here’s your order. Thank you.”
He took the tray containing his cream puffs and latte from her hand. When he grazed her palm, he basically got the confirmation he needed. She was a hard worker. He quietly slid on the loveseat at the end of the café with the clear view of the passing crowd and streets and consumed the sweets he ordered from time to time. His stomach was grumbling; he might have missed dinner and he still didn’t know what time it was.
Yes, noise is good, crowds are good. In them, I can be no one. He didn’t know how long he was staring outside. When his hands strayed to the plate, his cream puffs were already gone and his latte almost halfway there. She was also sitting in front of him, out of her work clothes but still in disguise. They just sat there in silence as the café started taking final orders and closing some sections of the place.
“Tough day?” Sakura was looking outside the window when she asked this. He initially thought she was avoiding him, but it was apparently for his own sake. With her looking away, he was allowed to be vulnerable.
“Bad dream,” Sasuke replied, taking up her invisible offer. He swirled the latte and regretted not getting a pure espresso to keep himself awake for the rest of the night.
“Hmm, that explains the sweets and caffeine, but that’s no good.”
He didn’t want to go back yet to his apartment. He wanted to lose himself in the crowd. “I’ll also walk myself to exhaustion.”
“Just aimless walking with no particular destination in mind, huh? Did that too one time and arrived home with an intense stomachache.” She took something from her bag and pushed it across the table with her eyes cast downward. “Something to fuel you on your journey tonight.”
“That’s no good – skipping meals.” Sasuke pushed the untouched bento box back to her side.
Sakura pushed it all the way to his hands, her eyes still never meeting his. “Too late for that now. It’s twelve midnight, and I’ll go home to rest while you’ll still be walking for God knows how many miles until sunrise. E-A-T.”
“Don’t you charge for outside food?”
“Silly, you have me. Now finish that so I can go home.”
Sasuke opened the bento box, holding no expectations to the contents because any proper meal was sumptuous to the appetite of a hungry person, and as he ate, she watched the passing crowds and a few minutes later, the burst of fireworks in the night sky. It was the culmination of the town’s summer festival.
She accompanied him in easy silence until he finished eating and pushed the now empty bento box to her side. She didn’t move from her place, her eyes still glued on the sights outside, so he took that as his cue to leave.
He made the mistake of looking at the window and saw her reflection looking at him leaving. He held her gaze through that and sincerely conveyed his feelings. “Thank you.”
She smiled at him and waved him goodbye.
The lights went out in the café when he stepped outside, and while he started to walk aimlessly, her eyes followed his back, a stranger in disguise wishing him comfort from the dark.
AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 3
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lastbluetardis · 4 years
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Chemical Reaction (17/22)
Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started. Together, they navigate the highs of new love and the lows of coping with past trauma to forge deep and unbreakable bonds of love and commitment. Part 2 in the Catalysis series. Tagging @doctorroseprompts
This chapter: ~8400 words, explicit (for one small scene). Here we are folks! The culmination of the feels of the last several chapters. Enjoy xo.
If you like my stories, consider leaving me a tip? I know these are trying times, but if you are able, I would really appreciate it xoxo. And as always, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated as well.
AO3 | FF | TSP
Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 | Ch21 | epilogue
April was usually one of James’s least favorite months. The weather was wet and cold, and with it being the last month of the semester, it was always busy with exams and projects. This year, however, he had the pleasure of knowing it was his beloved’s birth month; even though he didn’t know the precise date, that made it all the more fun as, day after day, he greeted Rose with a “Happy Birthday” snog.
Yet every day, she giggled and said, “Not today.” He wasn’t sure what he would do on the morning she kissed him and replied instead with, “Thank you.” Despite his brilliant, magnificent brain, he was stumped on a way to make an ordinary day extraordinary for her.
Though she said she didn’t want anything for her birthday, he couldn’t help but preemptively get her a simple gift: a silver necklace with an infinity heart pendant. The heart was studded with blue zircon—one of his birthstones—while the infinity loop was studded with small diamonds, her birthstone. Cliché, he knew, but the design had caught his attention. He hoped Rose would like it.
James had been carrying it around with him since the start of the month to be presented to her on her date of birth. Whenever the hell that was.
The weeks seemed to fly by, and still it wasn’t her birthday. He had several chilling moments of panic that maybe he somehow missed it, but then resigned himself to the fact it must be at the end of the month. Her so-called hint to him had told him it wasn’t the first or last day of the month… Rose would be cheeky enough to call that a hint if it turned out her birthday was the second to last day of the month. Nevertheless, James was having fun with their little game and worked to make the month special for Rose.
Though he knew she had been teasing when she’d suggested they make love every day so that she would wake up to birthday sex, they nearly met that goal, thanks to Rose staying overnight at his house more often than not. They were both growing to love the routine of cohabitating; James would drive them into the university in the morning, they would attend their respective classes, then they would meet up at the end of the day for him to drive them home again. Even on the days when one of them started earlier than the other, they drove in together, regardless.
While James’s main goal was to make April particularly special for Rose, he found himself realizing that even if it wasn’t her birthday month, he wouldn’t have done anything differently. It was a happy coincidence that the month happened to be filled with a multitude of romantic date night opportunities.
He had surprised her with tickets to the play put on by the university’s theater program, and had told her they would make an entire night out of it. He had dressed in a suit and tie; she had donned a gorgeous evening dress. Reminiscent of their Valentine’s Day plans, they’d had an early dinner out at a nice restaurant before driving to the university for the show. And when they’d gotten home, they peeled the other out of their nice clothes and made sweet love until midnight.
And when he took her to the cherry blossom festival in Washington, D.C., it wasn’t a birthday surprise, either. He would have wanted to tour the capital with Rose and bask in the beauty of the cherry trees no matter the month. There was nothing more romantic than walking hand-in-hand with Rose beneath the pink and white trees while the soft petals floated down around them. Nothing made him happier than seeing her face light up with awe as she took photograph after photograph of the scenery. Though the cherry blossoms weren’t as stunning as typical years, thanks to a warm snap in February followed by an arctic blast that killed some buds in mid-March, the scenery was stunning nevertheless.
They’d had fun exploring the various museums and historic sites in the city as well, but James’s favorite part was watching Rose scribble furiously in her sketchbook when they got back to their hotel room each night. She filled over a dozen pages during their four-day trip; she shared every single one with him, including the portrait of him she’d drawn one morning when she had awoken before him, and had occupied herself with sketching him asleep in the nude. Unlike her previous nude sketches of him, she did not cover his nether regions with a sheet, or simply not draw them at all. No, she had drawn every naked inch of him, down to the morning erection he had been sporting (which had also prompted her to draw a caricature of that very piece of his anatomy, making him howl with laughter when she eventually showed him the picture of a very prominent, very erect penis on a teeny tiny little person). 
Playing tourist with Rose was one of James’s favorite things to do, so even if it had not been Rose’s birth month, he would not have changed a thing. It was a mere bonus, pure happenstance, that they managed to go on so many romantic dates that month.
As the month plowed on, bringing him ever-closer to Rose’s elusive birthday and to the end of the semester, another date idea came to him. And this time, he intended to make it double as a birthday gift.
With only a week and a half left to go in the month, and Rose’s birthday falling somewhere in that time frame, James woke up one morning to an email from the student life office at the university. They were advertising discounted tickets to a Philadelphia Phillies baseball game at the end of the month. Perfect! He loved showing Rose more of the state she lived in, as well as the culture of America. And honestly, what was more American than a baseball game?
Rose was still asleep as James read the details of the email, though their alarm was due to go off in a few minutes. He silenced it on his phone and instead gently woke Rose up with a series of kisses to any part of her face not smooshed into her pillow. She grunted and buried her face completely into the pillow.
Chuckling, he tried again, this time pressing the long expanse of his body into hers. He shivered when his hips rubbed into her upper thigh; he woke up hard nearly every morning, and today was no exception. Some mornings, he didn’t feel a pressing need to do anything with it; others, when he snuggled up against Rose, his heartbeat concentrated into a dull, throbbing, insistent pulse between his legs. He was experiencing the latter, and hoped she would be in the mood to make love with him.
“Rose,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into her hair. He wriggled down a few inches and tucked his nose into the join of her neck and shoulder. He kissed her there and smiled when she shuddered. “Rooooose.”
“M’sleepin’,” she mumbled, but she tilted her head to free up her neck for him.
“Oh? Well, I guess we can’t partake in any morning activities I might’ve had planned,” he lamented, though he pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses to her neck. Goosebumps spread across her skin and he could hear her breathing going ragged the longer he kissed her.
She moaned softly when he scraped his teeth across her ear lobe. Finally, she stopped pretending. Turning her face out of her pillow, Rose slung her arm around his shoulders, hauling him closer for a proper kiss.
“Got another date idea,” he breathed between kisses.
“Don’t care,” she answered, chasing his lips.
“I’d like for it to double as your birthday gift.”
“Don’t care,” she repeated. His head emptied of all coherent thought when she reached down between them and took him in her hand, pumping him firmly. His nerves sparked with pleasure as desire settled heavily in his lower belly.
“But I… oh, blimey… I care… God…”
She nipped at his bottom lip and gave him a small squeeze on the upstroke that made stars burst behind his eyes. “You care more about that than what we’re doing?”
He could hardly draw in breath, so focused was he on the addictive rhythm of her hand. Each drag of her fist up and down his length heightened his need for her until he was certain nothing in the world was more important than being inside her.
But the smirk on her face brought out his competitive nature.
“Well, I’m quite cl-clever,” he choked out, trembling when she tightened her hold around him and picked up the pace. “I can walk and chew gum… talk and have se-ex shit!”
Rose guided him between her legs, nudging the tip of him into her wet heat. God, he’d barely paid any attention to her and yet she was so ready. He swallowed down his impatient whimper when she merely teased him, rubbing him through her folds rather than guiding him in.
“Hmm, I clearly am not doing a good enough job,” she mused, her voice frustratingly steady while he could hardly contain his gasps and sighs.
His brain nearly short-circuited. Not doing a good enough job? It was taking every ounce of concentration and restraint he had to try to hold this conversation with her; he would be done for if she tried any harder.
“The university is sponsoring another trip to Phillies… er, Philadelphia,” he squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut to think past the desperate need throbbing through him.
“Oh?” she asked, voice breathless as she stimulated herself with the head of his erection.
“Yeah, yep.” He cleared his throat, hoping it would stop cracking. “A trip to a Phillies game. Professional base-ball!”
Rose slung her leg over his hip and took him inside of her in one smooth, deep movement. Her momentum sent him to his back. Taking full advantage and giving him no reprieve, she sat astride him and began a brutal rhythm that stole his breath, stole his thoughts.
“Shit!” he rasped when the burning pressure in his belly bottomed out. Don’t come, oh God, please don’t come… Baseball. Think of baseball. Phillies, Philadelphia, bus trip, baseball game, showing Rose the stadium, teaching Rose the game… Rose… Rose… 
Rose was squeezing him from the inside, giving him such delicious friction as she arched her hips hard into his.
Fighting a losing battle, he choked out, “Sorry… gonna come… sorry… shit!”
Rose caught his lips in a searing kiss as he grunted and panted and moaned his way through his release, trying not to be mortified and to instead enjoy the pleasure and love flooding through him.
He was trembling when his ears stopped roaring. Cheek burning, he groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“That was delightful,” Rose said, a grin in her voice as she lightly tugged at his fingers.
“That was embarrassing,” he countered, moving his hands to her hips. “Sorry.”
She slowly pulled off of him and collapsed onto her back beside him. “You do realize I was trying to do that, right? You’re always so damn considerate and attentive. It was my turn to focus solely on you and getting you off.”
“I feel selfish for coming first,” he complained.
Rose shrugged and pecked a kiss to his temple. “How do you think I feel when you pleasure me more than once before you get off?”
“Hopefully extremely satisfied,” he drawled, winking at her.
She rolled her eyes, but kissed him soundly. “I enjoyed doing that very much for you, so shut up about it.”
He zipped his fingers across his lips, though a grin stretched across them. He caught her lips in another kiss as he let his fingers walk down her body, between her legs. She must have woken up as randy as he had been, because it hardly took any time at all before she arched her back and cried her pleasure into their quiet bedroom.
As she panted and trembled beside him, he stroked her hips, her belly, her thighs, any part of her he could reach, and tried his initial conversation again.
“The university is sponsoring a trip to a Phillies baseball game,” he said. “Have you watched baseball? It’s a fun sport. One of my favorites, actually. I probably ought to get my UK citizenship revoked for that, but I can’t get into the football matches. Though plenty of people find baseball to be boring too. To each their own. Anyways, tickets are twenty dollars, and it covers admission to the game and transportation to and from the stadium. It’s on April twenty-sixth. It’s a night game… 7:05 start time. I would like to make this your birthday gift. Well. One of your birthday gifts, since, really, I want to go to the game anyway, to hell whether it’s your birthday or not. But since I’ve only got about ten days left to choose from, I figure that’s a close enough window to claim it as a birthday gift for you. What do you think? April twenty-sixth… does that sound like a birthday gift to you?”
Rose giggled and pinched his side, drawling, “Very subtle, love.”
James pouted. “Seriously? You’re still not gonna give me your birth date? I’ve been patient all month long!”
Rose cackled. “You liar! You have not at all been patient. At least once a day you beg me to tell you when my birthday is.”
“That is me being patient,” he grumbled, though he grinned when Rose laughed at him again. Even though they would need to get up soon, he tightened his hold around her and snuggled closer to her soft, warm body. “Wanna go to the Phillies game?”
“Sounds like fun,” she replied, running her fingers through his hair. His scalp prickled pleasantly, and he could have easily fallen asleep. But alas…
“We need to get up,” he groaned, burying his face farther into her neck. Rose heaved out a sigh, clearly as reluctant to move as he was. “Wanna share a shower?”
“How could I say no to that?”
With a parting kiss, they rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom.
oOoOo
“You know, I’ve never been to a professional sports stadium before,” Rose said as they strolled, hand in hand, away from the packed parking lot towards Citizens Bank Park, home of the Philadelphia Phillies baseball team. “Wasn’t much into sports back home, and didn’t really have the money for it.”
James gave her hand a squeeze and watched her out of the corner of his eye. Something was… off. She’d been agitated when he’d picked her up from her flat that morning to drive her to the university. She was short and snippy with him, but insisted she was fine even though she obviously wasn’t, which had only annoyed him in return.
He had nearly called off their date to Philly, since she obviously wasn’t having a good day and he didn’t think he could stomach an entire night of forced joviality. However, after classes, she had met him in the library as planned and was decked out in a red Phillies sweatshirt and matching lipstick, greeting him as though their tense morning hadn’t happened.
“Where did you get that?” he’d asked, fluttering his hands at her top.
“The internet. Turns out everything exists on the internet,” she’d teased, bumping her hip into his.
He had been thrown by her chipper mood, and Rose must have sensed that. She reached up for a hug and squeezed him so tightly, it was as if all the tension that had been settled over his body was suddenly gone. She lightly kissed his cheek and whispered, “Sorry for this morning.”
“What was the matter?” he asked, keeping her in his arms for several more seconds.
“I’ll explain later,” she said. “I don’t really wanna talk about it now. I wanna go watch some baseball!”
It had taken everything he had to not snap at her to just bloody talk to him. Instead, he promised himself he would check in with Rose after the game, or perhaps tomorrow, since it would be late by the time they got home. But he wanted to know what was bothering her, and what had been intermittently troubling her these past few weeks.
That dark day she had had nearly a month ago still niggled at the back of his mind. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but so long had passed that he wasn’t sure how to broach the subject.
Hey Rose! Remember that day you yelled at me in the food court then started crying? What happened?
No, that wouldn’t do. Because what if she didn’t remember? What if nothing at all had happened and she’d had a breakdown over a bunch of little things that didn’t matter anymore? He had been hoping she would tell him on her own time, because he didn’t want to press. And it wasn’t as though he had forgotten about the episode, but he often got too caught up in the present with Rose that he wouldn’t think of it until he was alone again. Part of his brain admonished him, telling him that he could easily have that conversation with Rose through text.
Presently, they scanned their admission tickets at the front gate and stepped through the turnstile into the stadium. James inhaled deeply, catching a whiff of cigarette smoke, fresh air, grass, and greasy food. There was a unique and distinct scent of a baseball stadium that he loved.
Rose let go of his hand and darted forward, her gaze locked on the field in front of them. James followed, smiling to himself. He stood behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist as Rose drank in the sight of the enormous baseball friend in front of them. The grass was lush and verdant, neatly trimmed in the familiar crisscross pattern most baseball diamonds favored. The dirt of the infield looked soft and dry, though the grounds crew were in the middle of hosing it down. The late evening sun cast long shadows across the field while the stadium lights, already switched on in preparation for the night game, created a multi-shadow effect as well.
“Selfie?” James asked, fishing his phone from his pocket.
“Need some help?”
James glanced over and saw a young couple approaching them. The woman held her hand out for his phone, which he handed over. He then wrapped his arm around Rose’s middle. She turned into his side and linked her arms loosely around his hips.
The young woman took several photographs for them, all of them beautiful. James thanked her, then reciprocated the gesture, snapping a photograph of the couple with the baseball field behind them.
When the couple had departed, James took Rose’s hand again and they leisurely strolled around the concourse of the stadium. There was a beer stand every dozen paces, it seemed, and though it was ridiculously overpriced, James forked over the money and bought them a beer apiece. They sipped it as they walked, inspecting the various food stands and merchandise on display.
“What the bloody hell is that?”
James laughed when Rose picked up a plush toy of a furry green creature with a plump belly and elongated snout.
“He’s the team’s mascot,” James answered. “The Phillie Phanatic.”
“What is it?”
James shrugged. “The Phanatic. He’s not really anything, I suppose. He’s his own creature. Don’t knock him, though; the fans love him.”
Rose glanced dubiously up at him, but replaced the toy. James made a mental note to order one for her as a gag gift. 
As they continued walking, James’s belly rumbled with hunger when he smelled the intoxicating aroma of bread, beef, and cheese. 
“If I get a cheesesteak, will you eat half of it?” he asked. “‘Cos I wanna get crab fries too, but I can’t eat both of those by myself. Actually, the crab fries are right over there.” He took Rose’s shoulders in his hands and pivoted her gently, pointing to a concession stand with a giant logo that read Chickie’s & Pete’s. He rooted in his pocket for a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Will you get us an order of fries? With cheese.”
“Er… okay,” Rose said, blinking. “What the hell is a crab fry?”
James snorted. “French fries—chips—with old bay seasoning. They’re really good, I promise.”
Rose leaned up and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky I trust your taste in food.”
She left him to go get their crab fries, while he stood in the Tony Luke’s line for a cheesesteak. Though the line was nearly thirty-people deep, it moved very quickly. Ten minutes later, he spotted Rose waiting for him in a secluded corner near the ramp they would need to take to go to their second-deck seats.
The university had bought out an entire section in right field, and James recognized many of the students lounging in the seats. He had managed to procure front-row end seats for him and Rose. He allowed her to take the end seat, then plopped unceremoniously onto the hard blue chair beside her.
“Beautiful, innit?” he asked, nudging his elbow into her ribs.
“It’s a gorgeous night,” she agreed. “Look at that sunset.”
“View’s nice too,” James said, leaning forward in his seat to look down at the field. Apart from losing a little bit of vision of the right field playing area directly beneath them, they could see the entire ballfield very well.
There was a half hour to go before game time, so they ate their dinner and chatted mindlessly with each other and with their fellow schoolmates who had come on the trip as well. They posed for a giant group photo that was then shared to all of the university’s social media pages.
James was full and content by the time the Phillies players took the field, and he draped his arm around Rose’s shoulders as he explained the rules of baseball to her.
The game was fairly straightforward, with no tricky calls he had to break down for her. There was a ton of action in the first few innings, with both team getting a few home runs, including a grand slam by one of the Phillies’ stars. The stadium erupted with cheers and the LED Liberty Bell began to ring as the Phillie trotted his way around the bases. Rose appeared to be caught up in the atmosphere, jumping and cheering along with the crowd.
It was fun, James thought, to be sharing this with Rose. He made a mental note to keep an eye out for other discounted ticket specials, even if it wasn’t for the Phillies. A minor league team was based close to the university, and he imagined he could get tickets fairly cheaply, if it would be something Rose was interested in.
During one of the inning breaks, Rose had turned to him, flushed and beaming. She looked breathtaking, with the lights from the stadium glowing behind her and casting her hair in a golden halo around her head. He felt his mouth go dry and his heart kick up a notch.
Rose frowned at him. “What? You all right?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I…” He swallowed thickly, then smiled at her. “You’re beautiful.”
Her cheeks flushed a deeper red and a shy smile crossed her face. He reached over to brush a stray wisp of hair from her face, but then kept his hand on her cheek. “Love you.”
They moved at the same time, leaning closer until their noses brushed, then their lips pressed together. The noises of the stadium disappeared, lost in the heavy pounding of his heart as he kissed Rose. Her mouth was warm and soft, though felt a little funny with the slightly waxy texture of her lipstick.
He had meant for it to be a quick little kiss, though he should have known better; how often was he able to give Rose only one kiss? Angling his head slightly to the side, James lost himself in her, in the warmth of her hands. One of them was on the nape of his neck, the other at his waist, clinging to his sweatshirt as he devoured her lips. His tongue swept along hers, then trailed across the roof of her mouth. He delighted in her full-body shiver.
Before he could do it again, there was an explosion of noise around them.
“Hey, you’re not making a porno here!”
James wrenched away from Rose, blinking dazedly at the person who had interrupted them. It was one of their fellow students. He nudged James’s shoulder, then pointed towards the giant screen above left-center field.
His own dazed face looked back at him.
Kiss Cam. Oh, dear…
He grinned sheepishly at the camera, then pecked a chaste kiss to Rose’s temple. She looked equally abashed. Blessedly, the camera panned away from them, though the crowd of university students around them continued jeering and teasing.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” he murmured to Rose.
“S’not your fault. I wasn’t exactly beating you off of me.” He snorted and kissed her cheek. “You’ve got lipstick on you.”
James licked his swollen, tingling lips. A moment later, Rose cradled his jaw in her palm and rubbed a damp napkin across his mouth. It came away stained red. Her own mouth was smudged with lipstick, and he helped her clear it off, too.
“You are too enticing,” he concluded when they were lipstick free. “How am I supposed to restrain myself from kissing you?”
“Maybe you shouldn't,” Rose drawled, and she leaned up to plant a hard kiss to his mouth again.
Of course, the Kiss Cam found them once again, to the delight of the stadium, and to their fellow students, who didn’t let them live it down for the rest of the night.
The last few innings passed without much excitement and ended with the Phillies winning seven to four over the Miami Marlins. They were exhausted as they traipsed to the charter bus that would take them back to the school.
It was just after eleven o’clock when the bus returned to campus, and almost midnight by the time James pulled up in front of Rose’s flat. For once, he was staying overnight with her, per her request. The climb up to her fifth-floor flat was exhausting, and James wanted to curl up with Rose and go directly to sleep.
“What time is it?” Rose muttered to herself when she unlocked her front door and stepped into her dark flat. She flipped on the lights and glanced in the direction of the stove; 11:42 glowed green from the digital display. “Ooof, gotta wee. Stay here!”
She sprinted down the hall and slammed the bathroom door behind her. James was left laughing and shaking his head at her.
He set his keys and wallet down on the kitchen table, but as he was about to toe off his shoes, an open, hand-written letter caught his eye. He didn’t mean to snoop, but his eyes and brain worked independently of each other and before he knew it, he’d glanced at the end of the letter, where the name Jimmy was printed in a messy scribble.
His ears rang hollowly and his head swam. Jimmy. Jimmy? As in, Jimmy Stone? Jimmy Stone, Rose’s wanker of an ex-boyfriend?
A righteous anger welled up in James; what the hell did Jimmy want with Rose? And how dare he contact her out of the blue after all this time.
Before he was entirely aware of his actions, James plucked up the piece of paper, eyes frantically scanning across the words.
Rosie,
I’ve started this letter half a dozen times now, and I’m no closer to knowing how to say exactly what I want to say. It seems surreal that we’ve been talking again. I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea. It’s like I’ve found a piece of myself I didn’t know was lost. I’m not complete without you, and I hate the person I am without you.
This past month has been the happiest of my life because I’ve been able to talk to you again. I am thankful that you let me apologize, because there is nothing more I’ve wanted to do for the last six months. Getting sober has made me realize a lot of things, but it especially showed me that I missed you and that I want you. The worst mistake I ever made was how I treated you, and I will spend the rest of my life hating myself for it. I will spend the rest of my life (our life?) making it up to you.
I love you, Rosie. I love you so fucking much. You make me feel like I can do anything, and I love how I feel when I’m with you. We were the best thing to ever happen to me, and I’m such an idiot for destroying the perfect, wonderful life we had made together. I think I was scared. I was scared of not being able to support the both of us with my music, and I was scared about how much I needed you. You were a comfort to me, something I knew would always be there for me, something reliable, and it was scary for me to need anything that much. But I’m not scared anymore, and I know I can make it work this time. As you said, we were young, stupid kids and we made young, stupid mistakes. Now we can start fresh and build something even better than before.
I know you’re at school in America (which I always knew you could do! I always knew you were smart enough for school, despite what you said about yourself). I’m happy you’re enjoying your time in America. I want you to enjoy your time there, while you can. I’ll be here waiting for you when you come home. I’ll wait forever for you because you’re worth it. You’re so worth it, Rosie. I would wait a thousand years for you if I needed to. I hope I don’t have to though.
This time we can work harder together to make us work. I know you might not be ready to trust me yet, but I promise I will show you how serious I am. How committed I am. I will do whatever it takes to make this work between us, because I hate the thought of my life without you in it.
In the meantime, texting you will hold me over. I cherish every day, every moment that I can talk to you.
All my love,
Jimmy
James could barely think, could barely breathe. Something was squeezing his chest tighter and tighter until he thought he might suffocate as he read and reread the words of the letter. The love letter. The love letter that Rose’s ex-boyfriend wrote to her after a month—a month?!—of them having texted back and forth.
Acid churned in the pit of his stomach, eating away at his guts and making him certain he was about to vomit all over Rose’s floor. And worst of all, his chest was collapsing in on itself and his heart was breaking into more pieces than he thought possible. An entire month, Rose had been texting her ex-boyfriend—the ex-boyfriend she had supposedly written off and hadn’t deigned to contact in three and a half years.
And she hadn’t told him. A month, and she hadn’t said a single word.
His pulse thundered in his ringing ears so loudly that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until the sheet of paper was abruptly yanked out of his hands.
oOoOo
It was a relief to empty her bladder after holding it for most of the trip home. She had been tempted to use the toilets at the stadium, but the lines had been impossibly long.
With that need dealt with, Rose washed her hands and then her face. She felt greasy and grimy, and would have preferred to get a shower, but she only had a couple minutes before midnight, and she could finally tell James it was her birthday. She deserved a damn medal for not spilling the beans early—though there had been a few close calls—but she couldn’t deny it had been fun to play with James all month. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to simply look at her identification card, where her birthday was plainly printed in bold. But that was her James, wasn’t it? The smartest idiot in the room.
She rushed to brush her teeth and comb out her hair before she left the bathroom and skipped to her kitchen/dining/living room.
James stood by the kitchen table, a sheet of paper in his hands and a stricken expression on his pale face.
Oh. Oh, no… Her stomach dropped. He was reading the disgusting letter that had arrived from Jimmy out of the blue yesterday afternoon.
She didn’t know whether she was more embarrassed, considering the content of the letter James was reading, or angry that he had snooped through her things and read her mail. The former won, but fueled the latter.
Rushing up to him, Rose yanked the letter harshly out of his fingers. He flinched as though she had struck him.
“What are you doing?” she snapped, folding up the paper and setting it on the kitchen table beneath one of her class notebooks.
“What am I doing? What are you doing? You’ve been chatting with your ex-boyfriend for an entire month?!” 
There was an awful combination of accusation and hurt in his voice that simultaneously grated against her nerves and broke her heart. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to find out about Jimmy like this. He wasn’t supposed to read that letter until she had explained the past couple weeks to him.
No, not merely a couple weeks. A month. It had been an entire month (and a little extra) since Jimmy first contacted her, and Rose hadn’t said a single word about it to James. Shit.
“I was going to tell you,” she said weakly. “I just…”
“Just hid it from me by accident, did you?” he said, condescension dripping from his every word.
Rose clenched her fists and her jaw before coldly replying, “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to talk to anybody, or that I needed to tell you about every person I talk to. Sorry, d’you want to know about the bloke I chatted to while I was waiting for you in the library today? Wanna know about the girl I met at work ‘cos she’d recently broken up with her girlfriend and needed to talk to someone? Wanna know about…”
She knew she was being ridiculous but she couldn’t make herself stop until James interrupted her.
“Of course you don’t need to tell me about everyone you talk to.” Two pink stains spread across his cheeks. “But I would have hoped you would have trusted me enough to tell me when your ex-boyfriend, the ex-boyfriend you claimed to despise, contacts you!”
Rose crossed her arms in front of herself, gripping the fabric of her sweatshirt so tightly that her fingertips began to ache. “This isn’t about trust, James.”
“No? Well, it sure seems like it is. Because you don’t actually trust me, do you? Not nearly to the extent that I trust you. I’ve shared everything with you, Rose. Everything! I told you about the worst night of my life. How it still haunts me and gives me nightmares like I’m a child again rather than a grown man. But you…”
He flapped his arms wildly before letting them fall limply to his sides, clearly out of words. But he didn’t need any more words; the ones he’d hurled at her hit their mark, cracking her heart wide open. He didn’t think she trusted him?
Suddenly wanting him to hurt as much as she did, she met his eye and said, “I didn’t make you share any of that with me. You did that on your own. You opening up to me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do the same to you.”
It happened almost in slow motion, the way his face crumpled. The way his chin wobbled and his lips parted slightly with a soft, nearly inaudible, “Oh.” The way a crinkle formed between his brows, and beneath them, his eyes grew shiny with moisture. 
Shit. Shit shit shit!
“James, I…” I’m sorry… I didn’t mean that… 
His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, then his face smoothed into a mask of a person she didn’t recognize. Even before they became friends, when he was the random cute bloke sitting in front of her in their chemistry class, he exuded more warmth than he did right now.
“How silly of me to expect some level of reciprocity in this relationship,” he said coolly.
“I didn’t mean that, James,” she muttered, wringing her hands in front of herself. “Really. I didn’t. I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you the whole thing. I was going to tell you all about it, I swear.”
He barked out a laugh, and it was one of the worst noises she’d ever heard. “Oh, yeah? When were you gonna drop that one? When we’re old and gray in rocking chairs in a nursing home? ‘Darling, remember when we were first dating? Remember that horrible ex-boyfriend I had? He texted me—ha! Remember when texting was all the rage?’ Exactly when were you planning to tell me?”
Any sympathy she had for him had evaporated and her rage returned with a vengeance. 
“Obviously if you’re acting like this, I was right to not tell you! Why are you being so unreasonable?”
“Unreasonable? Unreasonable?! My girlfriend has been texting the bloke she used to be in love with, and I’m being unreasonable?”
“Yes, you are! So what if I was texting him? What does it matter who I text on my own bloody phone?”
“You’re missing the entire bloody point!” he shouted, his voice cracking. “I’m not angry that you’re texting him…”
“Clearly,” she grumbled, grinding her teeth together.
“…I’m angry that you felt the need to keep it a secret,” he continued as though she hadn’t interrupted. “And I’m upset because why did you keep it a secret? And what on earth could you two have been talking about if he sent you this… this…” James flapped his hands uselessly to the table and the notebook under which Jimmy’s letter sat. “...this love letter?! For all I bloody know, you could be wanting to get back together with him and…”
“No, don’t you dare,” Rose hissed, voice trembling. Tears of fury and heartbreak burned behind her eyes, blurring her vision. “Don’t you fucking dare accuse me of that. After everything I told you about Jimmy—and don’t tell me I haven’t told you anything. Just because you seem to have selective memory doesn't mean I never told you about his drinking and partying, and how he stopped paying his half of the bills, and how he manipulated me to always feel badly about myself. After everything I told you, how could you even think I would want to go back to him?”
A flash of guilt appeared in James’s eyes. He blinked and lowered his gaze, staying silent.
“Even if he hadn’t treated me like shit, how could you take away everything you and I have done together? Everything we’ve built together? How could you think I would leave us behind for someone I fell out of love with years ago?” She sniffled as her tears finally fell, streaking down her cheeks in hot, wet rivulets of grief and misery. “Do you think that little of me? That I would willingly go back to a relationship like that when what we have is so wonderful? Do you think so little of us?”
James scrubbed his fingers through his hair, making a tousled mess of the limp and somewhat greasy strands; they were in dire need of a wash.
“No. No, of course I don’t…”
“You just said so,” she argued, impatiently wiping her face dry. “You just said…”
“I didn’t really mean it. But you have to understand… relationships are so new to me. You’re the longest relationship I’ve ever been in, and we’ve only been dating for four months. Christ, teenagers in school manage to have longer relationships than this. How pathetic am I for being so illiterate when it comes to love and romance? I barely know what I’m doing half the time, and God knows if I’ve been mucking this all up but you’re too nice to tell me…”
Rose’s head was spinning as her heart fought to beat its way out of her chest. She’d heard this before… she’d heard this all far too many times.
I didn’t mean it; I just drank too much…
You’re remembering wrong, I didn’t say it like that…
You’re being ridiculous. Calm down and maybe we can talk like normal people…
I was so drunk I don’t remember doing that…
I’m the worst piece of shit, Rosie, and I’m sorry, please forgive me… 
She shook her head as though she could physically shake Jimmy’s voice out of her ears. Instead, she tried to focus on James’s words rather than map them on top of Jimmy’s.
“This is me telling you now that you are mucking this up…”
But James continued on as though she hadn’t spoken. And with how dry her mouth had become, she wasn’t sure if her words had been audible.
“...And you could be wanting to be in a relationship with someone who’s got a bloody clue as to what they’re doing. Why wouldn’t you prefer to be in a relationship with someone else…?”
“Because I love you, you stupid fucking arsehole!” Rose yelled, which caught his attention. He met her eyes and blinked slowly, as though confused. As though she were revealing a secret he’d never been privy to. “Yes, I love you, but you knew this! At least, I thought you did. I love you so much but you are breaking my heart, James. Haven’t you believed me these last four months?”
His mouth worked wordlessly for a few long and agonizing seconds.
“I… yeah.” His tone suggested otherwise, though, and she nearly began crying with frustration. All this time… all these months… Had none of it been real? Had he been pretending this whole time?
“Thanks for that vote of confidence.” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes until bright lights burst behind her closed lids. “Thanks a lot, James.”
“I just…” He groaned, sounding as miserable as she felt. Good. “I’m so bloody new at this! I’m making it all up as I go and I’m worried I haven’t been doing a good job. I get nervous that one day you’re going to wake up and realize how rubbish I am at this. That you’ll get sick of holding my hand through all of this as I learn. I’m terrified you’re going to decide you’re done wasting your time with me, because you’re wonderful, and you deserve the best and I…”
“Stop!” Rose cried, a sob stealing the air from her lungs. “I don’t want to hear this. You have just… broken everything we’ve been building, James.” She hiccupped on another sob and impatiently sucked in a lungful of air. “We were supposed to be partners… I wanted us to be partners… I thought we were partners. We were supposed to be equals in this relationship. I don’t want you to put me up on a bloody pedestal, or for you to talk down about yourself or make excuses for yourself. I don’t want there to be this… this inequality between us for the rest of our lives. But if that’s always how it’s gonna be… if that’s how you’re always going to see us, as you being somehow lesser than me…” The force of her tears made her entire body shake. It felt like someone had blown a hole through her chest; she couldn’t breathe. “…then I don’t think we can make this work.”
The tears that had been threatening in James’s eyes fell down his pale cheeks. “What? Rose…?”
She buried her face in her hands, willing herself to calm down. But how could she be calm when it felt like the world was spinning too fast? James had been her tether, her anchor, keeping her grounded to the surface. But he’d let go, or maybe she had, and now she was crashing alone through the void. Lost. Adrift.
“You… are you breaking up with me?” His voice was so hoarse that she could hardly hear it. Though that might have been because her pulse was thudding in her ears instead.
Was she breaking up with him?
“I don’t… no… yes? I don’t know. I don’t want to. God, I don’t want to.” She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone. And right now, that really bloody scares me. I fought so hard, put up with so much, to make things with Jimmy work when I should have called it quits long before it all ended. And I didn’t love him nearly as much as I love you. I’m terrified about what I’ll let happen… what I’ll excuse… I can’t do that again, James. I won’t do that again.”
He reached out for her, but she couldn’t let him touch her. She couldn’t feel his fingers on any part of her body. Not right now. 
She raised her hands in front of herself and retreated a pace, nearly tripping over her shoes from where she’d kicked them off at the door.
The door.
With trembling fingers, Rose undid the deadbolt. “I- I want you to leave now.”
“No, wait,” he pleaded, raw urgency in his voice. But he didn’t come any closer to her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Rose. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean anything… I didn’t mean… I didn’t… Please…” 
She’d never heard James, her eloquent, loquacious James, struggle this much for words. His eyes grew wild the longer he went without managing a sentence.
“Please,” he repeated, frantic. “Please, Rose. Don’t do this.”
She drew in a shuddering breath and closed her eyes. It was late, and she was so bloody exhausted. She didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore, but she knew it was far from over.
“I need a break,” she said wearily. “I’m tired, James. I’m so tired.”
“We can’t leave it like this,” he rasped through a stifled sob. “Please.”
Rose met his gaze. Everything was written on his face, his grief and terror and heartbreak. He looked impossibly young.
“We’re taking a break for the night,” she repeated. She paused for a beat, then, scrambling for some sort of comic relief, quipped, “Not Ross and Rachel’s version of a break, mind. A time out, more like.”
James either didn’t process the joke or didn’t find it funny, because he was still staring at her with that stricken expression that made her want to wrap him in her arms and apologize for everything that had been said that night.
But she couldn’t make herself move.
“I love you, Rose,” he whispered.
“I know.” That’s why this is so damn painful. “I love you too.” Maybe too much.
Rose had always thought of their love as a fire. A soft, cozy fire, and together they basked in its light and warmth. But maybe they’d gotten too comfortable, gotten too confident, gotten too close; now they were burning, and oh, God, did it hurt.
“Goodnight James,” she murmured, opening the door for him.
He numbly walked towards it, completely forgetting about his phone, keys, and wallet on her table until she went and picked them up. His hands were cold and sweating as she handed him his things.
“Drive safe,” she said. “Text me when you make it home.”
He made a wordless noise she thought was assent, then he was gone, walking silently down the many flights of steps they’d cheerfully bounded up mere moments earlier.
God, how long had it even been? It felt like an entire lifetime had passed. Rose glanced at the clock. 11:58. Sixteen minutes. Sixteen horrible, heartbreaking minutes was all it had taken for Rose’s world to come crashing down around her feet.
She went to her window and peered down at the dark street, waiting. Half a minute later, James stepped out from beneath the front porch of her building and ambled slowly to his car. He moved as though through treacle, as though he were tugging an invisible weight behind himself.
She continued watching him, but James simply sat there in his car in the dark. The clock switched over to 12:00, ringing in April twenty-seventh. She’d planned to kiss him at midnight, as though it were New Year’s Eve, and tell him that he could finally wish her a Happy Birthday.
All of a sudden, her game of keeping her birthday a secret wasn’t fun anymore, and twenty-two didn’t look as optimistic as it had been.
The distant purr of an engine drew her attention to the street below. James had started his car and was pulling away from the curb, taking off down the empty street.
Rose fully gave in to the sorrow she had been fighting back for the past quarter of an hour. Sinking down onto her couch, she bent double over her knees and sobbed her heart out, grieving for all that had shattered that night, and for the unanswerable question of whether broken things could be ever mended.
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}⛱🗣🫂💞{
This was for specifically the RexCoatl kids, but since your new I'll throw in Rex too!
This got super long, so it's under a cut
Happiest memories.
Rex: the day I married mi diosa, it was a beautiful day. Every servant and chaldea staff was there in attendance, and so was mi diosa's family. I remember I was in a red tux, rather then a more traditional white one. I remember standing at the altar as I watched her walk in her wedding dress towards me... she was absolutely beautiful... lil green and red flowers in her hair, and bouquet of golden flowers! Martha officiated it. And that moment when we both said "I do" that was the start of our lives together! Every time I think about that day... I'm happy!
Mari: hmmm, I'd say an important day for me was... when I created my first magical familiar with papá. It was a simple one... a crow with a spirit inhabiting the body. I had practiced a few times, but it took a while before I finally managed it. Now I have a lil crow to do my bidding! Mostly just watching things tho... still nice!
Ed: I'd say... the first soccer game I went to with the family! It's the reason I gained a passion for soccer! Me and Mari were still young at the time, but I still remember it pretty well. Thinking back... not sure why they took us in the first place. Maybe mamá intended to watch it, but she spent the whole time being affectionate with papá. But I couldn't take my eyes off the field, I also remember when our team scored a goal I'd scream "goooooooal" right alongside the announcer and the crowd!
Jokes!
Rex: two windmills stood in front of each other. One asks the other "what kind of music do you like?" The other said "I'm a big metal fan"
Ed: I was wondering why the ball was getting bigger, then it hit me!
Mari: what's red and bad for your teeth? A brick!
Positive relations
Rex: of course that'd be mi corazon! She's amazing and beautiful and absolutely perfect! She's like the culmination of all things good in the world! Or atleast for me anyways. She's tall, powerful, beautiful, a literal goddess, has sharp teeth, rides on a pterosaur, and so many other things! She's my world and my sun and I love her!
Mari: I'd guess that'd be my parents. I'm honestly a lil closer to papá then mamá since he's teaching me about magecraft but I'm still super close to the both of them! I look up to them, they saved the world! Multiple times! But also their relationship is so... nice. I want something like that.
Ed: just like Mari, I'd say it's mamá and papá. I'm a bit closer to mamá because we share similar interests. Papá's interests are a bit much for me sometimes, but we're still close. Whenever I'm remind that they saves the world... it still surprises me to this day, their my heroes!
Compliments!
Rex, to Quetz: mi amor, you're my everything. You are a true goddess, blessing this simple man. You make my life more worthwhile then it's ever been before I've known you. Finding you after so long being alone... it's like finally finishing a race, only to receive the most luxurious prize out of them all! Thank you for being with me.
Mari to Jalter: tia Jalter... thanks for... showing me your mangas. I know you're still embarrassed by it, but thanks for showing me anyways. I think those stories are super nice and your artwork is great too! I like whenever you visit and have a new book to show me, even if you have trouble sharing with people in general.
Ed to BB: tia BB, thanks for being one of the few family members outside of this home. It's always fun whenever you and tia Quin visit! You give us some of the best gifts and you even sneak me into sports games sometimes! Even if your mischievous nature annoys my parents, it's still super fun!
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architectnews · 3 years
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LWK + PARTNERS Architects, Hong Kong
LWK + PARTNERS Architects, Building, HK Design Studio Images, Architecture Office China
LWK + PARTNERS Hong Kong Architects
Contemporary HK Architect Practice – Chinese Design Studio Info + News
post updated 24 September 2021
LWK + PARTNERS Architects News
24 Sep 2021 Two LWK + PARTNERS projects earn esteemed recognitions at The Global RLI Awards 2021
LWK + PARTNERS is pleased to announce that two of the firm’s design projects in China won distinguished acclaims at world-renowned The Global RLI Awards 2021. The awards were announced in a hybrid presentation ceremony held in London on 23 September.
Zijing Paradise Walk, Hangzhou, China • RLI Most Innovative Retail & Entertainment Project (Highly Commended)
Designed with culture and wellness themes, this shopping mall freshens up the local retail scene with playful references to village life, Hui-style architecture and traditional Chinese gardens. Not only is the building aesthetically pleasing, but it also provides cool shades for passers-by with shifting and cantilevered forms.
image courtesy of architects Zijing Paradise Walk, Hangzhou
MixC Dongguan Songshan Lake District Mixed Use Development, Dongguan, China • RLI Future Project (Highly Commended)
The project is conceived as a catalyst of urban transformation turning a sub-urban industrial landscape to a robust lifestyle and cultural hub. Featuring diverse energising public spaces and multifarious greenery, the project also benefits the community with premium apartments and commercial facilities.
Ferdinand Cheung, Director of LWK + PARTNERS, joined the ceremony online and noted: “I would like to thank RLI and the jury for the recognition. Credits to the team for their continuous efforts through the challenges in both projects. We also look forward to the completion of the MixC project in Dongguan.”
The Global RLI Awards celebrates the most visionary and innovative retail and leisure concepts from across the globe. Since its inception 16 years ago, it has been regarded as one of the world’s most representative award programmes in the sector.
8 Sep 2021 LWK + PARTNERS Zero energy buildings design image courtesy of LWK + PARTNERS LWK + PARTNERS Zero energy buildings design Building construction and operations make up 38% of the world’s energy-related CO2 emissions, according to the 2020 Global Status Report for Buildings and Construction published by UN Environment Programme. To significantly decarbonise our buildings, one of the key innovations being actively explored by architects is the idea of a ‘zero energy building’, which has attracted much discussion across the building industry and academia and is now increasingly seen as critical for the future sustainable smart cities.
8 July 2021 Green Shore Residence Phase II, tip of Luoxi Island in Panyu, Guangzhou, south eastern China image courtesy of architects office Green Shore Residence, Luoxi Island Cities, as they develop, are known to leave their mark on the skylines. Green Shore Residence Phase II, a top-end luxury residence in Guangzhou, China designed by LWK + PARTNERS, is an architectural response to the relationship between the island and city where it resides.
31 May 2021 Asia Pacific Property Awards 2021-2022 News
Five projects by LWK + PARTNERS have attained honourable titles, including three 5-Star and two Winner, at Asia Pacific Property Awards 2021-2022. One of the projects, Tsuen Wan Sports Centre, Hong Kong, China is also Nominee of Best Leisure Architecture Asia Pacific, competing with other top projects for the region’s best. The virtual ceremony was held on 28 May 2021.
Tsuen Wan Sports Centre, Hong Kong, China: image courtesy of architects
LWK + PARTNERS Asia Pacific Property Awards 2021
29 Oct 2020 Radisson Collection Resort, Nanjing, China Design: LWK + PARTNERS image courtesy of architects Radisson Collection Resort Nanjing The low-rise resort complex consists of 151 deluxe guest rooms and suites, accompanied by comprehensive amenities like a lobby bar, all-day dining restaurant, Chinese restaurant, executive lounge, function rooms, meeting rooms, a fitness centre, swimming pool and spa.
20 October 2020 Streets as the impetus of community life image courtesy of LWK + PARTNERS Streets as the impetus of community life LWK + PARTNERS Director HC Chan sees immense opportunities in excavating the power of street life to preserve cultural diversity and walkability. Fostering a liveable city requires the engagement of various stakeholders. Policy makes up one side of the story, but the participation of residents in placemaking is equally important for achieving urban spaces truly fulfilling for the local people.
4 August 2020 LWK + PARTNERS Lighting Design image courtesy of LWK + PARTNERS LWK + PARTNERS Lighting Design
6 July 2020 LWK + PARTNERS Saudi Arabia Office The new LWK + PARTNERS Riyadh studio will be led by Kerem Cengiz, Managing Director – MENA (right), and Usama Aziz, a new Director. LWK + PARTNERS Saudi Arabia Office
1 June 2020 Shijiazhuang Zhao Hua Hospital, Shijiazhuang, Hebei Province, North China image courtesy of architects Shijiazhuang Zhao Hua Hospital in China Our planet’s population is now going through the biggest shared experience in decades due to COVID-19, and the way people think about life and illness today is incomparable with any time in history.
Sai Kung Outdoor Recreation Centre Temporary Quarantine Facilities photo : Paul Y. – iMax Sai Kung Outdoor Recreation Centre Facilities
OCT Caoqiao Cultural Commercial Street, Hunan Province, China image courtesy of architects Hunan OCT Caoqiao Cultural Commercial Street
27 Apr 2020 Zhongshan OCT Harbour Development, Shenzhen area – west coast of Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area, China image courtesy of architects office Zhongshan OCT Harbour Development
31 Mar 2020 Hebei Grand Hotel, Anyue, Shijiazhuang, Hebei Province, North China image courtesy of architects office Hebei Grand Hotel, Anyue in Shijiazhuang, China When it comes to aesthetics and simple living, the past can be a rich source of inspiration. LWK + PARTNERS recently completed Hebei Grand Hotel, Anyue in a new Central Business District of Shijiazhuang; part of the fast-growing Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei metropolitan region.
23 Feb 2020 Xichen Paradise Walk, Chengdu, China image courtesy of architects practice Xichen Paradise Walk Retail Complex in Chengdu, China Retail spaces are evolving into lifestyle complexes that are inspiring, diversified and immersive to surround visitors with a curated experience to fulfil various lifestyle and social needs. Xichen Paradise Walk encourages social interaction and community life with high transparency and accessibility to bring together people, their neighbourhoods and nature.
25 Nov 2019 Kei Cuisine, Hong Kong, China photography : iMAGE28 Kei Cuisine Restaurant Hong Kong Successfully marriage of Japanese and Chinese cultures to create an elegant ambience for Kei Cuisine, a luxury Cantonese restaurant located in one of Hong Kong’s core retail areas. Out of client’s passion for Japanese culture, the team took inspiration from the Yoshida Fire Festival.
12 Nov 2019 TIANFU ONE Exhibition Gallery, Chengdu, China photograph : Guanhong Chen Tianfu One Exhibition Gallery Chengdu Building Comfortably perched at the eastern end of a green corridor in Chengdu’s Tianfu New District, TIANFU ONE Exhibition Gallery enjoys panoramic views of the Luxihe wetland park just across the road. The architecture firm leveraged its proximity to both urban life and natural greenery to craft an observation deck culminating at the end of the city’s main artery.
20 Oct 2019 The LOOP, Chongqing City, southwest China photo : WOHO The LOOP in Chongqing The LOOP is the sales gallery for Shun Shan Fu, a low-density residential development composed of various luxurious villas and houses.
16 Oct 2019 Vanke Forest Park Sales Gallery, Chongqing City, southwest China photo : Guanhong Chen Chongqing Vanke Forest Park Sales Gallery Scenery is beauty; nature is grandeur. Abandon screams and self-expression, and embrace silence and tranquillity… ‘Retreat’ is a design attitude.
13 Oct 2019 Spiritual Bay Pavilion, Qingdao, China photography : Xuesong Zhang & Guanhong Chenn Spiritual Bay Pavilion in Qingdao Spiritual Bay Pavilion in Qingdao recently opened. Just 120 metres off the Yellow Sea coast, the project is endowed with perks of nature at Guzhenkou’s Lingxi Bay near the intersection of Yingshanhong Road and Haijun Road, enjoying distant views of the Dazhushan Scenic Area.
14 Oct 2019 Legend Gallery, Chongqing City, southwest China photography : Guanhong CHEN, Lian HE Chongqing Jiangshan Yun Chu As a lifestyle gallery, Chongqing Jiangshan Yun Chu – Legend Gallery is a trial for and response to localised architecture. It explores the spatial interaction between nature and urban space on a site close to Chongqing’s Jialing River bank, where the waterscape forms a rare natural setting for the urban area.
26 Sep 2019
LWK + PARTNERS Architects – Key Projects
LWK + PARTNERS Recognised with Four Cityscape Awards for Emerging Markets 2019
26th September 2019 – Four projects by LWK + PARTNERS have been recognised in the Cityscape Awards for Emerging Markets 2019, at a presentation ceremony that took place in Dubai yesterday, an event attended by e-architect founder and co-Editor Adrian Welch.
Landmarks Riverside Park – Phase II Danzishi Old Street, Chongqing, China, by LWK + PARTNERS: images courtesy of architects office
Shijiazhuang’s Zhengding Li Mixed-use Development is Winner of the Retail Project Award (Future), Chongqing’s Landmark Riverside Park – Phase II: Danzishi Old Street was made Winner of the Retail Project Award (Built), while Hangzhou’s Gallium Valley Science Park and The Pavilia Bay in Hong Kong are Highly Commended respectively for the Commercial Project Award (Future) and Residential – Medium to High Rise Project Award (Built).
Gallium Valley Science Park, Hangzhou, China, by LWK + PARTNERS Hong Kong: image courtesy of architects
Zhengding Li Mixed-use Development is located in the new central business district adjacent to the historical city of Zhengding in Shijiazhuang of China’s Hebei province. This retail-led development comprises SOHO offices, serviced apartments as well as a resort hotel, all linked up by pedestrian-friendly retail streets. Such a model of mixed-use development will promote a sustainable and zero-carbon community which is a main theme for future living.
LWK + PARTNERS Architects, Hong Kong:
Landmarks Riverside Park – Phase II: Danzishi Old Street in Chongqing, China, sits on a rejuvenated riverside heritage site. A retail complex by nature, Danzishi Old Street now offers a comprehensive cultural commercial experience that bridges the old and new, the oriental and the western. While many traditional spots were preserved and historical buildings refurbished, new structures were built with a modern Chinese architectural style so the old and new assimilate impressively well.
Zhengding Li Mixed-use Development, Shijiazhuang, China:
Gallium Valley Science Park is at the heart of the Cloud Valley technology cluster in Hangzhou, China, aimed to promote the development of e-commerce and the artificial-intelligence sector. It is located to the south of the new Xihu University and adjacent to a river, encouraging synergy with the tertiary institution while enjoying scenic surroundings. The project advocates a new office-park typology that blends greenery and communal spaces in the work environment, encouraging work-life balance in a professional industry.
The Pavilia Bay, Hong Kong, China:
The Pavilia Bay is a seafront residential development in Hong Kong, China, facing the serene Rambler Channel and surrounded by dense greenery of a nearby park. Its architecture invokes the beautiful image of a yacht embarking its journey towards the waters, with this theme carried all the way from macro building form, elevation right through to the interiors.
The Pavilia Bay, Hong Kong, China:
To take full advantage of the site, residential towers are oriented to maximize sea views for each residential unit. Residents have access to a host of clubhouse amenities such as an infinite pool, gym, and children’s play area.
Landmarks Riverside Park Chongqing:
As Hong Kong-based architectural practice LWK + PARTNERS continues to expand in China, Asia and MENA, the Cityscape Awards for Emerging Markets are the latest testament of international recognition towards its diverse design expertise. In addition to the awards, LWK + PARTNERS takes part in the exhibition and conferences of Cityscape Global, which is an annual real estate investment and development event, to shed light on the latest developments of the industry. LWK + PARTNERS Directors Ivan Fu, Ferdinand Cheung and Corina Leung gave insightful presentations offering perspectives and knowledge illustrated by powerful built-environment solutions.
Gallium Valley Science Park buildings in Hangzhou, China: image courtesy of architects
The Cityscape Awards for Emerging Markets recognises and celebrates excellence across real estate developments and architecture. Covering a range of categories, the awards offer international architects and leading real estate developers a prestigious platform to collaborate and share their vision for the future, from culturally integrated city skylines to sustainable urban communities.
Zhengding Li Development, Shijiazhuang, China:
More projects by LWK + PARTNERS online soon
Address: LWK + PARTNERS (HK) Ltd, 6-8/F & 15/F, North Tower, World Finance Centre, Harbour City, Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong
Phone: +852 2574 1633
Architects Practice Information
LWK + PARTNERS are a HK-based architectural design studio
Hong Kong Architects Offices – Architecture Firm Listings
LWK + PARTNERS is a leading design architecture practice rooted in Hong Kong. They are a platform with design specialists who deliver world-class solutions to the built environment.
Their 1,000+ creative minds collaborate across a network of 11 offices around the globe providing services including architecture, planning & urban design, interiors, heritage conservation, landscape, building information modelling (BIM), lifestyle and lighting design.
LWK + PARTNERS creates infinite possibilities.
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Website: https://www.lwkp.com
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curiousview-blog · 3 years
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In spite of, not because of: the myth of the ‘high functioning alcoholic’
For 18 weeks now, I have been sharing my writing: ‘How to stop drinking: A guide for normal people’. It’s a series in which I am sharing my reflections on living, and staying sober, in a fun, honest, down-to-earth way to show that an alcohol-free life is possible. Previous chapters can be found below on www.samwarren.net
For a long time I wore my ‘high functioning alcoholic’ badge with pride. It’s a term used in psychology and addiction sciences to refer to heavy drinkers who – as the name suggests – by and large, have functioning lives, and may even be over-achievers. I’d fall into that category for sure. My friends and I romped through our 20s and 30s being very successful, while lurching from drunken adventure to drunken dramas. During my most chaotic drinking years, I raised two teenage boys, achieved a PhD, a string of academic publications, teaching awards and research grants, which culminated in securing a tenured Professorship within five years of graduating from my doctoral studies. Finally, aged 40, I moved to a different part of the country for the first time in my life. No-one could ever accuse me of fitting the pattern of ‘the typical alcoholic’ down-and-out – crashing cars, losing jobs, shoplifting, being homeless and all the other wildly inaccurate assumptions we make about alcoholism.
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The new Dr. Warren throwing her hat at graduation (2006)
Lots of my academic friends were/are heavy drinking high achievers, and if you’re reading this as someone who’s questioning their drinking choices, I have no doubt that you’ve also stacked up successes in your life while spending half your life (or more) drunk – career, family, even sports? And this is what stops us from stopping because nothing has got so bad that it gives us a sobering slap in the face. Never mind that all these achievements are marked by extreme pressure, chaos, remedial work, lies and the need to push through debilitating hangovers with violently shaking hands, and heads down toilets… We’re the high functioning gang, right? Hell, we NEED this mess to do our best!
I once got ‘accidentally’ paralytic the night before flying to Dublin to do a research interview. On the audio recording you hear me excuse myself to go to the bathroom to be sick. Later, the taxi had to pull over so I could dry retch into the gutter. High functioning? High functioning shame, more like. Another time, on the night before the first day of term, we had a lock-in at our local pub. It was a Tuesday night. I went out at 10:30pm ‘for one’ with the pool team to share their post-match sandwiches and don’t remember getting home. Somehow I managed to pour myself onto the train after 4 hours sleep max, still drunk, and take my opening class. I was more worried about the fact that I had hairy legs and was wearing a summer dress than I was about the fact that I was about to teach a class whilst intoxicated. I have SO MANY stories of conference benders, two hours sleep and throwing up minutes before I presented important work… crawling into work almost on my hands and knees to teach, or pulling all nighters to make up lost drunk time in the days and weeks before to meet my deadlines. It was addictively exciting. I told myself I loved it.
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Art of Management Conference (2004) The night culminated in a tequila bar at 6am. I missed the whole of the next day’s sessions as I was so violently ill. I probably earned kudos for it.
I’m not telling you this to show off my stripes. I’m not recounting these tales as part of the glorification of getting pissed in our society. I’m telling them to myself (as well as you) because I need to remember how unbelievably shit it was. I’m telling them to counter the rosy memories I also carry with me, that in a funny old way I miss those days. It’s what I used to believe made me interesting. Wild and funny. As you’ll read in various ways in these posts, I am a person who enjoys intensity – the rush you get when you pull something off against the odds is incredibly seductive for me. Rather than standing as a clear lesson not to ever do that IDIOTIC thing again, instead my adrenalin pumps and I think FUCK YEAH!!, high five-ing myself and anyone in reaching distance. All I ever remember from that experience is ‘Ha! I can do this, no sweat… Now quick, get the beers in, my hangover is thundering in’…
I still have the same patterns in my life now I’m sober. I’m an accomplished procrastinator and replicating the same kind of frenzied deadline pushing. So its slowly dawned on me that maybe my achievements were in spite of the drink, not because of it. I need the excitement and pressure of having too much to do in a short space of time, and a big lesson from my sobriety has been to see that drink was just a tool of these behavioural traits and not the root cause. If you are the kind of person who puts everything off until it’s almost too late, taking on so much that its humanly impossible to get through your to-do list, or someone who works in erratic bursts of energy interspersed with long naps and faffing time, then you’ll still be this person when you’re not drinking too.
It’s been a while since I wrote these words and my reflex is to feel more than a little sad that over three years later this kind of procrastinating pattern is still happening in my life. Not least because I boldly wrote a post on this blog a few years ago declaring my procrastination habits were gone for good!! But maybe it’s just something about me I need to accept. I am a ‘just in time’ person, and actually I do some fucking brilliant work against the odds. And it was not alcohol that drove the great work, but me. Elizabeth Gilbert talks at length about how much she detests the ‘tortured artist’ stereotype in her book Big Magic – that somehow we have to be anguished, or behave like an utter c*nt to those around us in order for our creativity to fly. I think the idea of the high-functioning alcoholic is very similar and it’s yet another myth that ensures we continue to drink. I did great work, even though I continually put the most debilitating blocks in my own path to see how badly I could trip myself up. And what that taught me was to hurdle and swerve extremely well, I won gold in that race and it’s still paying dividends. This post is a day late because I left it to the last minute to edit. What beautiful synergy.
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boardingadmission · 4 years
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Find all boarding schools in dehradun
The Doon School
Welcome to The Doon School. We are a school which specializes in all boys boarding education for pupils aged 12-18. The school is probably the only All India school with applications from almost every state each year, as well as from Indian families overseas. Established in 1935, The Doon School is one of India’s finest schools, with a strong intellectual heartbeat. The Doon School is a full boarding school for boys only and not simply a school which welcomes boarders. The school’s beautiful seventy acre campus with a vast range of flora, fauna and bird life provide all boys with ample green space and fresh air where they are able to live and learn. It is an environment rarely offered by schools in large and small cities in India, or indeed some other countries. All boys are able to seek advice from the teaching staff, the Wellness Centre and the school counsellor living on the school campus throughout the seven day week. Boys discover that they have much more time to study and pursue their wider interests. There is no wasted time travelling to learn Sport, Art, Music, Drama and benefit from Careers Guidance as well as other necessary university and college entrance preparation.
St George College
St. George’s College (Mussoorie), is a premier boarding school in Mussoorie, in the state of Uttarakhand, India, affiliated to the ICSE council. The school, an all-boys residential and non-residential institution, spreading over 400 acres (1.6 km2) of land, was founded in 1853 by the Capuchin Fathers and entrusted to the Society of the Brothers of St. Patrick (Ireland) in 1894. It was opened in a cottage known as Manor House; the name by which the campus is still known. The students are known as Manorites. The school has an alumni network spread across the globe. In 2005, the Indian Air Force gifted the school a trainer jet aircraft, TS-11 Iskra, as a tribute to the distinguished service of the school’s alumni in the armed forces.
The Asian School
The School is situated on a 16-acre campus, Asian Acres in tranquil and verdant environs. The academic building is an impressive structure designed by a well-known group of architects from New Delhi. The residential area set amidst greenery with students being provided their own recreational area. We have four hostels, 2 for senior boys, 1 for junior boys, and one separate hostel for girls. A housemaster, tutors, and a matron live within the Student House providing round the clock supervision.
Welham Boys School
Welham Boys School is a residential school for boys, in Dehradun, affiliated to the C.B.S.E., India. Nestled in the foothills of the Himalayas over an area of 30 acres, the school lies amidst the hills and rivers of the Doon valley. Students from varying backgrounds and from many different parts of the sub-continent and beyond, attend the school.While I hope that you are enjoying the summer break with your children, which is not even halfway through, I am already missing their bubbling presence on campus and looking forward to welcoming them back all of us refreshed and with our batteries re-charged to take on the rigours of yet another term - Autumn 2018.
Welham Girls School
While inculcating the best of Indian culture and tradition in its students, the School aims at developing in them a sense of discipline and a spirit of service and fair play.The Welham community has grown from ten girls at its inception in 1957 to its current strength of 600 girls. The alumnae of the school have carved a niche for themselves globally and within India, yet the spirit to give and not count the cost remains unchanged.
Grace Academy Dehradun
Grace Academy is a senior secondary co-educational, day-cum-residential, English medium, unaided, Christian minority school which is affiliated to the Central Board of Secondary Education, New Delhi. Affiliation no. 3530076. The school began classes on July 10, 1990 with 29 students in grades Nursery to Third, with an expectation to add one class every year up through High School. Having started with rented rooms and tin shed temporary classrooms to accommodate grades Nursery through High School and senior secondary school.
Unison World School
An All Girls Residential School, it offers quality education with finest accommodation and living facilities to students from Grades 5 to 12. We wish to create opportunities for girls to achieve high standards not just academically but also in her life as a whole. While preserving the best in traditional Indian and International education and culture, we have opted for a student-centric, value based learning and education system with ample opportunities for individual growth and development.
The Indian Public School
The Indian Public School, Mrityunjaya Dham residential campus was started in 2001 and spread over an area of 80 acres, the entire school campus has patches of green and parklands. Tucked amidst the Himalayas (to its north) and the Shivalik ranges (to the south) the school provides a natural playground for children, keeping them in the lap of Mother Nature. In fact, the school campus has been planned in such a manner that only 20% of the total area will be concrete structures while the rest of the campus will be a harmonious blend of green patches, parklands and water-bodies. Our education system integrates the most relevant and meaningful features of the ancient Gurukul with the best of the scientifically designed modern systems enlivened by psychological and educational research. Living in perfect harmony with nature, both teachers and students in the school have ample opportunities to imbibe service-mindedness and inculcate ethical principles.
Bala Hissar Academy
Bala Hissar Academy places great emphasis on the physical development of its students and various games and sport are organized on a regular basis throughout the year. Basketballs, Cricket, Football and Table-Tennis are played under supervision of qualified PTI and students participate in inter-school sports competitions. An annual Sports Event is organised, generating a great deal of enthusiasm and excitement as it is the culmination of year long inter-house sport and games competitions.An Annual Prize and Speech Day is held is October with great fervour and excitement where outstanding students are awarded special prizes and scholarships. It is followed by Inter-School English Debate in the memory of Lt. Mrs. Humera Amanullah, the co- founder of Bala Hissar Academy. The importance of sports as an integral part of education cannot be undermined. This instills a spirit of sportsmanship, co-operation and responsibility in students.  At Bala Hissar Academy we try to ensure that all students benefit from a complete education. We take pride in developing the young men and women of tomorrow so that they are able to take their place in society with pride and confidence.
Beverly Hills School
The school has adequate and quality infrastructure consisting of well furnished classrooms, well-equipped Physics, Chemistry, Maths, Biology and Mass-Communication (Media Studies) labs, managed by a team of qualified and dedicated teachers and lab-technicians. The school has a state-of-art computer lab with all the systems on LAN and with internet. Interactive computer aided classrooms, empowers teachers to transform the traditional blackboard and chalk method into interactive sessions. The multimedia content enables teachers to explain complex concepts in an interesting and understandable manner, helping the students to retain information for a longer period of time and facilitates better learning. There is a Central Library having substantial collection of books on subject material, story books and encyclopedia .The campus has large play field for various outdoor games (like cricket, basketball, football, volleyball, badminton, etc.) and sports. A huge 700 seating capacity Auditorium is nearing completion.
https://boardingadmission.com/find-all-boarding-schools-in-dehradun
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hms-chill · 5 years
Text
RWRB Study Guide, Chapter 8
Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!
James I (203): James I/VI (First of England, Sixth of Scotland) is known for both translating the Bible and being just... so, so incredibly gay. The book mentions that he promoted a dumb jock to gentleman of the bedchamber, but it leaves out that 13-year-old James would just make out with dudes in public, and that the dumb jock (George Villers) was James’s third serious adult relationship. His friends introduced him to George because his last boyfriend was bad for the kingdom. 
George Eliot (205): Mary Anne Evans wrote under the pen name George Eliot to escape the stereotype that women could only write romances. She wrote seven novels, of which Middlemarch is the most famous, known for their realism and psychological insight.
Daniel Defoe (205): A pioneer of the English novel, Defoe wrote Robinson Crusoe as well as a series of divisive political pamphlets and tracts.
Jonathan Swift (205): Irish political writer most famous for A Modest Proposal, a satirical piece that suggests cannibalism of infants as a more humane response to the British treatment of Ireland than letting them grow to starve in adulthood.
Dickens... “woman who languishes away in a crumbling mansion wearing her wedding gown” (205): Charles Dickens wrote stories concerned with the lower classes. This quote in particular refers to Miss Havisham from Great Expectations, who was left at the altar and refused to take off her wedding dress or even put away the food set out for the wedding.
Sense and Sensibility (205): This is probably Austen’s second most popular novel (after Pride and Prejudice); it follows the four Dashwood women in their move to a new home following the death of Mr. Dashwood. Like most of Austen’s novels, the opinionated narrator follows the women through a series of romantic mishaps, culminating in a happy ending.
Green American Money (206): Fun fact, British money is blue and orange and purple and all sorts of fun colors! It also all looks different, because (at least in Scotland) four banks are allowed to print pound notes, so there are four different designs all in circulation.
Sean Hannity (206): A conservative American political commentator.
Harvard rowing (206): Rowing is like... the bougiest of sports.
Pleiad (206): In Greek mythology, the pleiades were the daughters of the titan Atlas who became stars following his entrapment under the earth. They are remembered for their beauty and loyalty. Myths of the missing pleiad explain why only six of the seven stars are visible to the naked eye. According to some sources, the missing pleiad is Merope, who was shamed out of the sky for her relationship with a mortal.
Minute Maid Park (206): The baseball stadium associated with the Houston Astros baseball team; it seats just over 41,000.
Politico (207): An American political opinion news source.
Drop-kick Murphys (208): An American Celtic punk band. (listen here and here)
The Klan (209): The Ku Klux Klan, an incredibly racist organization that has been responsible for the lynching of thousands of people of color.
Kim Nam-June (210): Kim Nam-Joon, known as RM or Rap Monster, is the leader and rapper of the K-pop group BTS.
Milwaukee (211): The largest city in and main cultural center of Wisconsin, which is a “swing state”, meaning that it could go either way politically in a national election.
Seth Meyers (211): An American talk show host and comedian whose creatively titled show, Late Night with Seth Meyers, is liberal-leaning. He hosts celebrities and often chats about politics or the news.
Clear Crystal Quartz (211): Apparently the most “iconic” crystal, it is believed to be able to help with clarity and the achievement of goals.
Wimbledon (213): The oldest tennis tournament in the world, considered by many to be the most prestigious.
Royal Box (213): The royal box at Wimbledon is a section of the best seats, reserved for royalty and specially invited celebrity/politically powerful guests.
David Beckham (213): A former professional soccer player and current fashion icon known for being hot and wearing nice suits.
McQueen (214): Alexander McQueen was an openly gay British fashion designer who rose from a lower class background to become one of the most famous designers in the world. Though he died in 2010, his brand continues to be known for unconventional fashion shows and theatrical imagery. 
Dashikis (215): A colorful, ornate piece of clothing somewhere between a shirt and a tunic originally from West Africa.
Orangery (218): A very large greenhouse or conservatory designed for growing orange trees.
Woman at her Toilet (218): This painting shows a woman in her bedroom putting on her socks with a little dog next to her; you can see it here.
Baroque bed* (218): Baroque art was designed to show off a monarch’s power; it is incredibly extravagant (Versailles is pretty much the iconic Baroque thing; you can see more about it here).
The Killers (219): An American rock band formed in the early 2000s and known for having donated over $1 million to charity (they did “Mr. Brightside”). (listen here and here). According to McQuinston’s twitter, the song Henry plays is “When You Were Young”, which you can listen to here.
Dred Scott (219): In the 1857 Dred Scott v. Sandford case, the US supreme court ruled that the constitution did not extend to or protect Black folks. 
Nina Simone (219): An American singer/songwriter/political activist whose music spanned a variety of genres and whose activism focused largely on the civil rights movement and was largely influenced by her “friend” Lorraine Hansberry, a Black lesbian playwright. (You know Hozier’s “Nina Cried Power”? She’s Nina) (listen here and here)
Otis Redding (219): Considered one of the greatest singers in American pop music and was one of the foundational soul artists in the US. (listen here and here)
Brahms (219): A German composer known for sticking to more classical forms of music while his contemporaries often leaned toward more dramatic or opulent styles. (listen here and here)
Wagner** (219): A German composer who wrote both the music and the librettos for his operas; his works tend to be very complex, and he has been credited with beginning modern music. (listen here and here)
Romantic (219): Artistically, the Romantic movement was a direct response to industrialization that called for a return to and celebration of nature. Queerness was very much a part of this movement, as it was seen as a return to or celebration of one’s natural state (think Byron).
War of the Romantics (219): A music history term used to describe the split between conservative composers like Brahms who wanted to stick with the Baroque, opulent styles of the past century and radical progressive composers like Liszt, who favored newer styles that blended music with narrative and morals.
Liszt (219): A Hungarian composer known for a diverse body of work and his position as the leader of the radical progressive group in the War of the Romantics. (listen here and here)
Alexander Scriabin (219): Russian composer known for his atonal or dissonant music. (listen to the piece Henry mentions here)
Elton John’s “Your Song” (219): A song written before Elton John came out, but with his queerness in mind. In a 2013 interview, John referred to it as “a perfect song”, and that the lyrics (written by Bernie Taupin) got even better as he got older and sang it more. (listen here)
Consecrated (220): made holy.
DNC (221): The Democratic national conference, when members of the Democratic (liberal) party get together to prepare for a presidential race.
College Republicans of Vanderbilt University (221): Vanderbilt University is a private (and therefore more expensive) school in Nashville, Tennessee. Its location in the South and its price tag would both mark it as being more conservative.
Cage match (221): A type of wrestling match that takes place inside a steel cage; the most common way of winning is by escaping the cage, usually by climbing over the top.
Paul Ryan (222): A conservative retired politician and former Speaker of the House.
The Second Amendment (222): The second amendment grants Americans the right to bear arms (have guns).
Salon (222): An American news and opinion website with a politically liberal editorial stance.
Air Force One (222): the president’s plane
“My Canadian girlfriend” (223): A running joke that someone (often a high schooler) whose partner goes to another school or lives somewhere else is made up.
Five Guys (225): Five Guys Burger and Fries is a popular fast food burger chain across the US.
Vampire Weekend (225): An American indie rock band.
The general (226): the general election in November, when Americans would vote for their president
Plainclothes (226): out of uniform
The Beekman (226): A very fancy hotel in Lower Manhattan, near the Brooklyn Bridge.
NATO (233): the North Atlantic Treaty Organization; an intergovernmental military alliance between 29 North American and European countries.
----
*every time I read this, I flinch just a little bit. Baroque architecture is just... so much, and the concept of a Baroque bed when beds/bedrooms are supposed to be simple to help you rest... It’s just so much and I hate it with all of my being. I’m sorry if you like Baroque furniture, but especially for Henry, who dreams of a simple life where he can just write and be anonymous... It’s a big yikes.
** Literally no one asked, but his stuff is just... it’s so boring? Like I’m sure it’s great to fall asleep to or calm down to, but I tried to listen to it while I wrote this and I just couldn’t. Liszt is better, but he’s no Mozart. Also? Mozart wrote BOPS. ONLY. “The Birdcatcher’s Song” slaps and no one can change my mind on that.
----
If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it!
—–-
Chapter 1 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 9
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zapzapbap · 5 years
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Freezing Heat
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Genre - Smut (+18)
Scenario - Friends to lovers au, Dom!Tae, sub!reader, female reader
Synopsis - You and Taehyung are trapped in a car in the middle of a snowstorm. One way or another, he is determined to keep you warm.
Warning - Overprotective Tae, Dom!Tae, sub!reader, cockwarming, car sex, p0ssyjob!, big dick Tae, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), slight!creampie fetish, slight!voyeurism. Read at your own risk!
~-~
"Stop squirming."
Two words, said in such a strict tone that if it weren't for the fact that they came from the lips of your childhood best friend you'd be submitting completely.
Yet, here you were. He had you wrapped tightly in an almost suffocating embrace, engulfed in an expensive faux-leather coat that probably cost enough to put you through college, trapped in a car in the middle of nowhere feeling suddenly hyperaware of yourself and claustrophobic. A quick look outside the window only showed snow continuing to pour, coating the ground in a beautiful thick winter blanket. If it weren't for the fact that it was trapping you there, it would have been a beautiful sight.
"Tae, there's no need to do this. We still have heat." You countered, still trying to squirm out of his firm grip. He frowned, pressing his lips in a thin line as he rested his head upon your shoulder, and you scoffed in annoyance. "The rescuers should be here any minute anyway, so you can put me down now."
"No." He replied, pouting. "I have to keep you warm. The engine could die any minute now."
"Ugh! Fine!" You pouted, and he smirked triumphantly. "But if I die of a heat stroke before then, I'm blaming you."
~-~
Skiing.
Now, sports weren't a thing you were good at. They required a lot of coordination, control of your body, fluid movement and joints... All of which were not your forte. The most sporty you had ever been was a 3 month dabble into some at-home yoga. It promptly ended in failure after a particular embarrassing incident left you with a dislocated shoulder, a possibly broken or misplaced tailbone, and a laughing best friend to to pop your joints back in place.
So when he invited you for a week-long getaway to an exclusive skiing resort in the mountains, you balked.
"Are you kidding me, Tae?" You said, incredulous. "What do I look like going up to a mountain resort with a bunch of famous people?"
"Oh come on! Don't be like that!" He said, pouting. "You make it sound so intimidating. It's not. It's just a cool trip between friends, that's all."
You rolled your eyes. Of course that's what he thought. Sweet, naive Kim Taehyung. Out of all the years you had known him, he had always had that childlike innocence about him when it came to things like this. However, you knew better by now.
At first, when he became an idol things were fine. ARMY had been relatively welcoming when they found out about his childhood best friend that he always had by his side in past photos and occasional public appearances. But as his fame started rising, slowly, seeds began to plant over time. First, an odd fan here or there who would joke about Taehyung's "ex girlfriend." Then, a jealous fansite who insisted on cropping you out of photos and deliberately mistranslated some things Tae had said about you in public appearances. Then, finally, bold yet baseless claims that you were a saesang, invading his private life and constantly interfering in his affairs because you had been his "childhood girlfriend" and was secretly a scorned lover.
Although there was enough evidence to easily debunk those rumors, enough ARMY believed them to make your life a living nightmare for months. Slandering your name online wasn't enough. Some even made public threats against you and your family's lives.
It eventually culminated in Bighit having to make a statement, clarifying that you were indeed his childhood best friend and that any continued harassment online would result in a defamation lawsuit. Not too long afterwards, the company revealed that you were a producer-in-training, working under the guidance of Adora. Things quickly calmed down after that.
Still, the pain of that predicament left a scar on your psyche. You had to be careful around Tae from now on.
However, Tae seemed to not get the memo.
One way or another, he was determined to get your friendship back on track. When the whole thing with ARMY finally came to an end, he was determined to show those toxic fans that the friendship between the two of you was not ruined.
He liked all your pictures on with the official BTS twitter account. He publicly thanked you for tracks you had produced or contributed to. He took you out for outings with the guys, so much so that the fandom had nicknamed you the 8th or 9th member. He name-dropped you in lives, telling embarrassing childhood stories and other tales from your youth.
Now, as good as that was to rebuild your reputation and validate your friendship to the public, it also ignited dating rumors and talks of nepotism behind the scenes. Which meant that the crazy part of the fandom that attacked you, although smaller now, became loud and angry once again. Threats had only been made online this time, but still enough to scare you.
But Tae... He knew how to play you.
"Y/N, please!" He begged, widening his eyes and pouting his lips. "I feel like we never hang out. It's not like when we were kids anymore. Now I can take you anywhere in the world."
"But Tae, you know what happened last t-"
"Y/N, please?" Oh no. The dreaded voice crack. Your kryptonite. "We're living lush, now. Let's enjoy it."
"You're living lush." You countered, annoyed, but knowing you already lost this battle.
"Right. And I'm sharing it with you." He said cheerily, smiling his signature boxy smile. "So what do you say?"
Sighing, you nodded and he cheered in glee.
"Text me the details, okay?"
~-~
All things considered, it was a fairly normal trip. After a particularly embarrassing fall after seeing your bias from Monsta X glide down the mountain like a professional, Tae had decided to stick by your side the rest of the trip to prevent any injuries that might occur. He introduced you to all his friends that came along, you had a movie night at the lodge with Jimin and Jin (who had tagged along, as they were meeting up with friends for the weekend too). You had the best hot chocolate you have ever had in your life, and you (begrudgingly) attempted to skii a few more times... All of which were fairly unsuccessful, but at least they were more fun than the last time.
So, when Jimin suggested that someone go down to the mountain to grab some alcohol not available at the lodge, it didn't seem like too bad of an idea. Taehyung immediately volunteered to go, and Jimin gave him the keys to Jin's rental car. And, not wanting you to be by yourself, he dragged you along, and you didn't object. You were all having fun. Why not have some more?
You should have checked the weather.
~-~
15 minutes.
That's how long it took for 10 centimeters of snow to cover the ground.
By the time you guys were halfway back to the lodge, the front tire had gotten stuck in a pothole. 5 minutes and 10 more centimeters of snow later, Tae had called for help with the little bit of remaining battery on his phone.
Estimated rescue time would be thirty to forty five minutes.
Overprotective Tae activated.
"Y/N-ah. I'll keep you warm!"
~-~
Okay, so admittedly his coat felt nice.
And, although the grip on your waist was kind of tight, something about his hands wrapped around you felt comfortable. If it weren't for your current situation, a scenario like this between you two wouldn't have felt so odd.
However, something about the way the snow was coming down around you two and the small cramped space of the car... It just felt strangely uncomfortable.
After a few minutes of tense silence, you finally spoke up.
"Tae?"
"Yes, Y/N."
"I'm scared."
He tensed, looking up at you through the expanse of his thick straight lashes. His expression was unreadable. He hugged you closer towards him, and sighed.
"It's okay." He said, his dark eyes staring comfortably ahead of you. "Everything's going to be oka-"
And, there goes the heat.
"Shit." You cursed, huffing in annoyance. "What do we do now?"
"I told you. The rescuers are coming. And until then, I'm going to keep you warm." He smiled reassuringly, loosening his grip on your waist a bit. "Trust me. Okay?"
Silence.
Something in you told you that your panic was natural. This was a terrifying situation, after all. People died in storms like this.
However, another part of you told yourself that you would make it out of this. That you'd both be fine as long as you were together. And no amount of natural occurrence was going to stop Tae from fulfilling his promise to you.
"Okay." You agreed, closing your eyes as you covered one of his large hands that was wrapped around your waist with your smaller one. "I trust you."
~-~
Slowly, cold seeped into the car like a virus, infecting your skin with goosebumps and shivers. You found yourself subconsciously cuddling closer to Tae for warmth, who found himself shivering beneath you. Oh no.
"Tae, are you okay?" You asked, and he sfuffed.
"I'm fine." He said, gritting his teeth. "No need to worry about me, Y/N. I'm here to take care of you, not the other way around."
The thought left you without apprehension, no warning as it slipped between your lips.
"We could take our clothes off."
He froze, and looked at you once again. His expression was unreadable, except for a brief glint flashing behind his dark eyes that you couldn't quite understand.
"What?" He stated now, tensing against you. You gulped. His voice... You had never heard it go quite that low before. You swore you could feel the deep vibrations of the single word rattling inside your ribcage.
"Um..." Nervousness suddenly overtook you, and you couldn't look at him. "I just read it in a pamphlet once. I'm sorry. It was a stupid idea."
"No it's not, " he said quickly, releasing his grip on you a bit. "If it means keeping you warm, Y/N, then it's okay."
"Okay."
Silence, once again.
Tae released you, pushing you forward enough to have enough room. Quickly, he shed his shirt, ridding himself of the garment as he tossed it precariously on the passenger's seat floor next to you. He made it look so easy.
Looking away, you pressed your lips into a thin line and kept your eyes on the ground. You were cold now, and not from the storm.
"Y/N?" He asked, looking at you awkwardly, his top half now prickling with goosebumps as the air continued to chill. "Do you need me to look away?"
You nodded, suddenly feeling very small. He nodded in agreement, closing his eyes immediately. Turning away from him, you stripped yourself of your shirt, tossing it atop Tae's, and pressed your back against his cool chest, wincing a little at the sudden contact. Tae once again wrapped his arms around you and shrugged his leather coat around you both.
"See? Nothing to worry about."
Pressing your lips in a thin line, you nodded and you both settled into awkward silence.
~-~
Another hour passed.
Precisely an hour after your estimated rescue time.
Tae kept you both calm by singing songs softly to lighten the mood. Taking your clothes off admittedly had been a good idea. His honey skin pressed against yours had you both warm in no time.
However, the longer you two stayed in the cold, the more you were beginning to feel it. As time passed, you had both resigned to climbing into the backseat and stripping down to your underwear and covering yourself with both of your coats. Yet Tae was still shivering.
Quite frankly, it was troubling. Without noticing, you began to squirm again in his lap. He tensed up immediately.
"Hey! What are you doing?" He stated, an edge to his voice that had you tensing in shock.
"Nothing." You said quickly, looking at your hands. He pressed his lips into a thin line, and looked out the window. You felt his arm quiver against your side, and you squirmed again. He whipped his head back towards you, and his jaw tensed.
"Y/N, quit it." He warned, his eyes darkening in annoyance.
"I'm not doing anything tho!" You countered, crossing your arms. Unbeknownst to you, that little action caused you to bounce lightly in his lap, and his eyes widened in panic.
"Y/N, don't -." He begged, now desperately. You scrunched your face in annoyance, turning slightly in his lap to angle yourself away from him, feeling hurt.
"It's fine, Tae. I get it. We can put our clothes back on if you're that disgusted by me." You said, now too embarrassed to look him in the face. "Besides, your leg is kinda uncomfortable anyway."
"Y/N, that's not my leg."
Your eyes snapped, and you became stiff as a board. Realization hit you, and as you looked back to meet Taehyung's gaze your mouth ran dry. You had caused a...big...issue for him. Possibly for you both.
Needless to say neither of you were cold anymore.
"Holy shit, Tae." You said suddenly, gulping. He looked away, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you suppressed a snicker. "Guess you don't find me disgusting after all, huh?" He grinned, chuckling as he turned back to look at you. "Have you been...like that...this whole time?"
"No. It's just - Y/N I told you to stop squirming!" He whined, making you giggle. "And I didn't want to freak you out. I'm not a pervert! I swear! It's just, you kept moving!" You laughed now, and he frowned in annoyance. "I'm sorry, okay? But I'm a man, y'know. It just happens sometimes. I just wanted to wait for it to go down."
"It's okay, Tae. I understand." You said calmly, caressing his cheek in your hand. "But are you having trouble, getting your um... soldier down?" His jaw tensed, seemingly in annoyance, and he huffed but nodded. "Is it normally like this?"
"No, Y/N. I don’t normally have beautiful, half-naked women sitting on my lap in the back of a car, either." He replied snappily, a sudden grit to his voice that had your thighs suddenly tensing.
Tense silence suddenly overcame the both of you. The air suddenly thick with tension and indecision.
There was an uncertain contest happening between you two. One of you would break soon. It just wasn't clear who it would be.
Long ago, you had found yourself becoming attracted to Tae. But as soon as that whole debacle with ARMY happened, you had resigned yourself to never even entertaining the thought of becoming something more to him. Besides, he wasn't even attracted to you.
...Or so you thought...
Although the expression in his eyes wasn't clear, you could tell by his difficulty putting his deputy back into place that you had an affect on him. And, he had just called you beautiful to boot! And yet, still a question hung in the air.
How would he... fit?
I mean, you're not inexperienced, but you're also not an expert in sex or sexual encounters by any means. But Tae, well... He's possibly the biggest you've ever felt in real life. Length and girth. What would that even feel like? Could you even take it?
Looking at Taehyung, you still couldn't quite get a grip on what he was thinking. It was obvious that he wasn't going to confront you about it at all, and you really didn't want him to sit here and be uncomfortable, or worse, in pain because of the problem between his legs. So you finally broke the tension.
"You could put it..." You swallowed, nervous as hell but maintaining eye contact with him, as he raised his eyebrow and cocked his head in curiosity. "...Inside me."
His mouth dropped in shock. For a moment he just stared at you, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Maybe this was a bad idea -
"Um, sure." He answered, still wide-eyed but a bit more composed. "But, um. What do you want me to do exactly?"
Ah, shit! Now you have to explain to him what you meant!
"Well, um. I don’t - uh..." Great. Now you're stuttering. Was this a bad idea? "Um. So you don't have to fuck me. But, like, a friend of mine and I were talking the other day about this thing she does with her boyfriend sometimes. Like, when he's tired but they haven't had sex in a while, she'll just sit on his dick and they'll cuddle like that." God you sounded crazy. Yep. This was definitely a bad idea. "So, I was thinking, maybe we could try it? Just to see if it helps?"
He didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes... You've never seen him look at you that way before. He nodded gently, and you carefully lifted off of his lap so he could slide his boxers down. Nothing could have prepared you for this.
Good lord, he was big. Long, thick, veiny, and slick with pre-cum. How was he going to fit?
"Jeez, Tae. You're big." You blurted, not really thinking, and he smirked. But then you just ended up sitting there for a moment. Gawking at him. Awkwardly. He cleared his throat, snapping you out of...whatever that was, and you jolted back into reality. "Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry."
Turning around, you shuffled back onto his lap, now conscious of the fact that he was completely naked underneath you. Hovering over his lap, Tae slunk an arm around your waist, the other posing his cock at the base of your clothed entrance, and moved your panties aside. You swallowed as you felt him press the fat head of his cock against your entrance, taking a deep breath as you slowly started to lower yourself.
The stretch was unbelievable. Never in your life had you imagined feeling this full, and you had barely taken a lot of him in yet. A delicious mixture of pleasure and pain as you made your descent -
"HrrMmmmph." You whined, suddenly stopping and taking a deep breathe. Taehyung immediately tensed, and you grabbed a hold of the back of the passenger seat to steady yourself.
"Y/N?" He said, worried. "We don't have to do this. I don’t want to hurt you -."
"No, no! It's okay!" You said, still a little breathless. "We can still do this. I'm just not wet enough, I think."
He perked up instantly, quickly removing himself, making you wince and whimper in pain.
"Oh! Sorry!" He said apologetically, grabbing your waist to help you lower yourself onto the seat next to him. He then perked up, his eyes suddenly lighting up with excitement. "But I can help you with that."
This time, your face was the one to fall in shock, but Taehyung only smirked back in response.
"Oh! Um - but - uh - Tae what?" You stuttered, suddenly unable to calm your nerves and rising heartbeat.
This, however, didn't faze Tae.
"I said..." He smirked, a dark, commanding look suddenly overtaking his features as his voice dropped an octave lower. "Lay down, Y/N."
You gulped, and took one last look at him. Now you recognized that unfamiliar flicker in his eyes; hunger, lust, excitement. Wordlessly, you laid down on your back, feeling very vulnerable as Taehyung drank in the sight of you underneath him.
His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he climbed over you, hand running up your thigh hanging off of the seat, up to our hips angled against the seat belt so as to not dig into your sides too much, and finally, up to your clothed breast. Taking a brief breath, he kept his gaze focused on you and his touch lightly grazing the underside of your bra. Your body tensed with anticipation underneath him, and you resisted the urge to grab him and kiss him closer to you.
"...Can I touch you?" He asked, biting his bottom lip in apprehension. Your eyes snapped back to his to meet his gaze. You could tell he really, really wanted to touch you but he wasn't going to do anything you didn't want to do.
You nodded. Closing your eyes, you felt him snake his large hand underneath your bra, giving your breast a gentle but firm squeeze, and you breathed a sigh in content. Tae must've taken that as a positive, because he kept going in that vein, kneading your breast with his large hand, making you mewl beneath him. Cupping your breast in his hand once again, you felt him curl his thumb and pointer finger to meet at the peak. Taking your nipple between the two, he rolled it back and forth, and you sighed in content beneath him.
Tae licked his lips before dipping down to meet your surprised gaze. Smirking, he lowered himself, careful to keep his hand where it was as he began trailing soft kisses down your neck and on your shoulders. Leaning into his touch, you sighed softly beneath him, that sigh quickly transforming into a low moan as you felt him suck the skin at the nape of your neck.
Relishing in the sounds you making beneath him, he continued, trailing sweet little hickey all across your neck and collarbone until he met his final destination. You hadn't realized had taken your other nipple into his mouth until you felt him take it between the his lips, the fabric of your bra still a barrier between his mouth and your bare skin.
You felt his other hand creep up your other thigh, bent at the knee to press against the seat and give him room, and you whined as you felt him continue to snake further and further up but never where you wanted it to be. You could feel wetness start to dampen your panties at the anticipation.
"Tae..." You whined, your eyes still closed. "Please touch me."
You couldn't see him now, but you could feel him smirk against your breast, stopping suddenly to look you in the eyes, his expression amused.
"Where do you want me?" He taunted, his tone low, heavy, commanding. "Be specific."
"Uh -." You gulped, fixing yourself to properly look at the man who you know would devour you if you let him. "I want your dick." He smirked, pleased to hear you be so bold.
Pulling your panties aside, he once again poised himself at your entrance, and you gasped, quickly grabbing onto his shoulders to stop him.
"Wait!" You exclaimed, and his face fell. "No. Not like that. Not yet." He hummed quietly, waiting for an answer. "Can you...rub me? With your dick, Tae? Please! I want to feel you."
He gawked, turning his gaze away from you.
"Fuck, you're driving me crazy, Y/N." He stated, chuckling before turning back to you.
Grabbing the head of his cock, he spit into his hand and dragged the saliva down his shaft. Then, dragged the tip slowly up your folds, mixing your slick together, before stopping at your clit to rub it with the tip of his dick in slow circles. You moaned beneath him, angling your hips for more friction, and Tae cursed.
"Fuck, Tae, just like that..." You purred, licking your lips as he rubbed you. With each drag of his tip through your folds, you felt yourself becoming slicker and slicker, and Tae moaned above you as he felt the warm wetness coat him.
Without warning, Tae suddenly pulled his whole form away from you, making you whine. Smirking above you, he hooked his fingers underneath your panties, sliding the shaft of his cock between them and your folds, and you whined as you felt the sudden friction on your clit. Grabbing your hips, he angled them towards him and wrapped your legs around his waist as he began thrusting back and forth, dragging his shaft between your slick folds. You moaned his name, which he rewarded with a low groan.
Each thrust was deep, long, and precise. Just enough friction to build that fire in your veins, a slow burn that you treasured and rewarded with the sweetest whimpers and moans for him.
"Faster..." You whispered, feeling the world melt underneath you as you felt your orgasm build.
"What?" He asked, slowing his thrusts, making you whine.
"Faster, Tae! Please!" You begged, and he chuckled.
"Mmm... But I like this." You gasped, and he chuckled, clearly enjoying your shock as he toyed with you. "You did just need me to get you wet, and now you're soaking." He was right. The dampness between your legs had gradually built into a sickness that coated your pussy and thighs, more than enough for Taehyung to sink into you if you both wanted it. But he knew what you wanted, and was enjoying every minute of dragging it out of you. "Unless you want me to make you cum? Is that what you want?"
"Taehyung..." You whimpered, lip quivering as you felt the slow burn of your approaching orgasm start to fade. "D-don't tease me. Please."
"Beg then." Did he just growl? Holy shit.
Embarrassed, but too horny to care, the words slipped through your lips with ease. "Please go faster, Taehyung. Please make me cum. Please."
Groaning, he unhooked your legs from around his waist and swung them around his shoulders, trapping his cock between your thighs and increasing the pressure against your clit. He didn't waste any time giving you what you wanted; long, fast thrusts, the friction against your clit by his long shaft making you delirious. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning his name, feeling his fingers press dents into your hips. You're eyes rolled into the back of your eyelids as you felt that fire building again, toes curling and thighs tightening.
The visual was unbelievable. It took Taehyung everything he had to not cum right then and there, but he knew you were close and he wanted - no, needed - to see you fall over the edge due to his touch.
A moment, and just the right angle was all it took, and you finally came undone beneath him. Head thrown back, hands pressing against the cold glass of the window for support, stomach tensing and legs shaking as his name fell from your lips in a sweet whine. Fuck. Taehyung had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
As the embers of your orgasm faded, Taehyung slipped his cock from between your panties and thighs and lifted you into his lap. Grabbing a hold of his shoulders for support, still struggling to catch your breath, your lifted yourself, hovering above his lap. This time, Taehyung wasn't slick with his desire, trailing a hand down your ass, making you tense with anticipation as he yanked your panties away from your wet center.
Pressing the head of his cock at your entrance, he groaned as you once again sank down onto his length. A low moan escaped your throat as you felt his incredible girth stretch your walls, and Taehyung groaned in appreciation as your tight walls wrapped around him.
Finally, when a considerable amount was inside, you stopped. Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his face against your neck. You sighed, the air finally feeling steady.
A few moments of peace passed between you two. Things felt very...cool. Calm. Intimate.
Taehyung lifted his head from its comfortable spot on your shoulders to rest upon your forehead...and smirked. Trailing his hands down your back, you felt him grip your ass firmly, making you tense.
"T-Tae...?" You stammered. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing." He quipped, his nose resting against your cheek. "Don't tense like that."
"Tae, I'm - hnngh." You squealed, feeling his hands grip your ass again, this time more firmly. Tae groaned beneath you, the tightening of your walls around him eliciting the sound. "I'm not -."
"Keep this up, and I'll have to punish you." You gasped, the seductive nature of his words lighting you up with excitement.
Tae leaned back onto the seat, licking his lips as his eyes ran down your form above him. His expression was stern, but his eyes were blown out in lust. His next words were low and deep.
"Or do you want me to punish you, Y/N?"
You gulped, too afraid to say anything. Yes, god yes! Please punish me, Tae! You wanted to say, but... You knew that if you tried to speak, your voice would betray you and the only thing you'd be able to reply would be incomprehensible squeaks or groans.
But you knew how to get him to do it.
So, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes, your thighs tensed as you clamped down against him, Tae tensing beneath you as the tightening of your walls caused him to curse.
Without warning, he gripped you close to him as he flipped you onto your back, just barely grazing your head against the cup holder as he hiked your legs around his waist. Taking his hand in yours, you felt him slowly pull himself out before sharply thrusting half his length back into you, and you cried out in pleasure.
He built up his pace like that, moaning as he felt your walls tense around him, adding more length until he was fully sheathed inside with each thrust, keeping an eye on your reactions to make sure nothing he was doing was hurting you. Yet he wasn't. The pleasure you felt from this was incredible, hot waves cascading through your blood like lava. You didn't realize it in the moment, but you were a sweaty, shaking mess beneath him, a sight that had Taehyung cursing under his breath, fighting the urge to cum inside you right then and there.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt him hit that spot within you, clit rubbing against his abdomen, pitch rising in your moans as you fought the wetness forming in your eyes from falling down your cheeks. You felt that familiar fire building inside you again, and Taehyung took notice.
Leaning close, he commanded, "don't cum."
You whined in protest, the fire in your veins getting hotter, but by god, it was so fucking hot seeing this side of Taehyung.
He chuckled lowly, nibbling at your earlobe as he increased his pace, making you whine and moan beneath him, squirming and failing to break out of his hold as you felt your orgasm draw closer and closer.
"Bad girls..." He continued, with a smirk on his face, his thrust now getting faster as he felt his own orgasm building. "...don't get to cum. Fuck!"
"Tae!" You cried out, the damn finally breaking in your tearducks, almost alarming Taehyung, until you begged, "Please. Please! Let me cum. Please!"
He groaned, the snapping of his hips into you now sloppy, fast, and too much to bare. Taehyung cursed into your neck, the knot in his stomach tightening as he felt himself getting closer and closer, your tight, wet cunt squeezing around him pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
"Not gonna - fuck - last long!" He groaned into your skin, his grip on your hand tightening. "Not wearing...condom." You gasped, realization dawning on you as the reality of his words sank in. "Gonna cum. Inside. You feel. So. Good!"
"Tae!" You begged, mentally thanking yourself for being on birth control. "Please. Please! Taehyung, don't stop. Harder! Fuck!"
That seemed to send him over the edge, as his pace became brutal, long thrusts slamming into your cunt over and over as he painted your walls with his cum. He held you down as your body shook under him fighting your own orgasm from erupting as he filled you.
As he came down from his high, he rose from on top of you, gaze falling to the sight where you both met, his cum now dripping from your center. It was so beautiful, it's almost like it was blinding...
Wait...
Taehyung's face fell as he looked up, meeting the eyes of a glaring, grumpy rescuer with a flashlight. Quickly, he pulled you up into his lap, shielding you from the intrusive light's glow, his face now red with embarrassment. The rescuer motioned for him to roll down the window, which he did, letting a burst of cold air into the car causing you both to hiss in annoyance.
"Are you Y/N and Kim Taehyung?" You buried your face into Taehyung's neck, too embarrassed to look the man in the eye and answer him. Taehyung nodded, his expression unreadable. "We're going to get you both out of here. Do you two need a minute to change?"
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hazelandglasz · 5 years
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Ooh I love ALL the AUs in that post, so if you'd like to write any of them that would be awesome :-) If I had to select something maybe "chocolate milk" or little brother in the grocery store? Thanks for sharing your story talent!!
I looove this one too
“yes, i know this is a bar but you’re a rlly hot bartender and i panicked and said “cHOCOLATE MILK” when you asked me what i wanted to drink, now i just want to crawl away and hide forever” au
On AO3
It seemed like a good way to finish the week.
Blaine would cross all of his t’s and dot all of his i’s and then would turn off his computer. Then he would just cross the street, greet Hugh at the bar, get his three cocktails and Buffalo wings and then go home and fall asleep while listening to YouTube videos.
That’s the plan, that’s the dream, that’s his Friday night.
It all goes down the drain the moment Blaine pushes the door of the bar, though.
Because Hugh, reliable, comforting, Santa Claus-y Hugh, is not behind the bar.
No, instead of Hugh, stands one of the most gorgeous man Blaine has ever had the chance to see. Tall, pale skin but with a glow almost unnatural this time of the year--the guy must have the best skincare routine on the planet--, russet hair Blaine wants to run his fingers into and gentle blue eyes that are looking inquisitively at him.
“Hello?”
Oh darn, how many times has the guy tried to catch his attention?
“H-hi.”
Gorgeous Barman smiles. “Are you new here?”
Blaine chuckles, finding his seat at the bar. George and Mitch raise their glasses at him, already making fun of him no doubt, the two yachne.
“Not quite. I come here almost every Friday.” Blaine pauses and that’s his mistake, because he loses himself in Gorgeous Barman’s eyes. “I, um, I--”
“Everything alright?”
“Y-yes. I had, I had, a tough week.”
“Let me make it better then.”
Oh Lord.
“What would you like to drink?”
And that’s when Blaine’s brain panics. Blame the, indeed, tough week. Blame the shock of the change in his routine. Blame the last four months of celibacy. Blame the man’s beauty.
Blame Blaine for having a severe foutinmouthitis.
Anyway, that’s what comes out of his mouth in this very moment.
“A CHOCOLATE MILK PLEASE!”
Gorgeous Barman blinks at him while George and Mitch burst out laughing.
As much as Blaine loves this bar, if the floor could just open now under his stool and swallow him, that would be his blessing.
But of course, there is no such thing as a blessing in Blaine’s life, and the floor remains as solid as ever, damn it.
“A … chocolate milk, coming right up then.” The bartender seems to have recollect himself from his surprise. “Do you want that hot or cold?”
“Hot,” Blaine mumbles, dropping his forehead to the bar the moment Gorgeous Barman moves away to prepare his drink. “I’m an idiot.”
Blaine really doesn’t know how long he stays like that, forehead pressed against the wood trying to overcome his embarrassment, but at some point, someone close to him clears their throat and Blaine straightens up.
Gorgeous Barman is back, pushing a truly decadent hot chocolate drink in front of him. As a matter of fact, he’s pushing two mugs in front of Blaine.
“Wh--”
“I thought it was a good idea,” Gorgeous Barman says with a crooked smile, leaning on his forearms--smooth, pale, strong forearms--on the counter. “So I made one for myself. Do you mind if I join you?”
“Not--not at all,” Blaine says, feeling his lips stretching into a smile. “That looks amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m Blaine.”
“Kurt.”
---
Two more mugs of hot chocolate, the last one being slightly-not-slightly Irished, and a large plate of Buffalo wings later, Kurt and Blaine are the only ones left in the bar and they are having a silly battle with the wings’ bones as their lightsabers.
Blaine giggles as he drops his bone on the plate, licking his fingers as he does so. Kurt’s own laugh turns choked and Blaine looks back at him.
Kurt’s eyes are wide and darkened, and above all, attached to Blaine’s fingertips in his mouth.
Blaine feels his face heating up. He clears his throat. “I, um, maybe I should go. That was quite a healthy dose of whisky you poured in our last round.”
“I had a feeling you are a whisky man,” Kurt says, straightening up as he puts the empty mugs away. “Let me guess--you never planned on ordering chocolate milk, did you?”
“Yeah, no, that was not my plan.”
“Oh, you had a plan? A man with a plan,” Kurt giggles, snorting into his cleaning rag. “Blaine the man with the plan.”
“Well I did. I do. Usually.”
“Tell me, Blaine, what was the plan then?”
“My three usual drinks, my wings and then off I would go back home.”
“Usual drinks, you say?”
“Hm.”
“Let’s see if I have managed to get that bartending instincts.” Kurt takes two shotglasses and a bottle of vodka. “So first, whisky, for sure …” Kurt observes Blaine, tapping his lips with his fingers. “Old Fashioned?”
“Yep.”
Kurt pours one shot and pushes it toward Blaine. “Shot.”
“Wha--oh, okay, right.”
“Second one … hm, I don’t think you would stick to one drink.”
“No?”
“No. You’re more interesting than that.”
“You’re the most interesting here.”
Kurt freezes and then softens. “We’ll get back to that once I get it all right.”
“All right.”
“So, second drink. Something sweet, something fresh, something that will wake you up a little bit in case you run into someone you would want to be energetic for.”
“Wow.”
“Am I close?”
“So close.”
“Mhm … Mojito?”
Blaine picks up the bottle and fills up his shot himself before downing it.
Kurt claps his hands. “All right! Now for the homerun or whatever sport metaphor works best …”
Blaine snorts before clapping his hands over his mouth and nose.
“Don’t,” Kurt says softly, his fingertips brushing against the back of Blaine’s hands. “It was an adorable sound.”
“Adorable?”
“Adorable.”
The air between them is suddenly loaded with electricity.
“Ahem.”
“Third drink, now, that is tricky.” Kurt walks behind the bar, clearly aiming for the end of it before shaking his head and going back to his original spot, keeping the counter between them. “It can go two different ways.”
“Oh?”
“Either you usually decide to leave on a high, fun, note, or you decide to take something a little more straightforward to guarantee your sleep once home.”
“Ain’t nothing straight about whatever I do when I sleep.”
“No?”
“No.”
Kurt’s smile turns into a smirk. “I see.”
“Waiting on your thoughts on my third drink.”
Kurt hums before licks his lips. “I say … something sweet. Something a bit fruity. Something that says I am sure of my masculinity and I just want a good time.”
“That’s a lot of message from just one drink.”
Kurt cocks his head to the side. “I figure you have a lot say, my dear.”
Blaine’s flush is not just the product of the alcohol now.
“For all the reasons I listed,” Kurt continues as if unaware of the effect of his words on Blaine, “I say that your final drink of your night shall be a … Cosmopolitan.”
Blaine applauds him before pouring one last shot. “Congratulations, you do have bartender instincts.”
“Thank you, thank you,” Kurt says before leaning once again on the counter, resting on his forearms. “Now, what will be my prize?”
“We never discussed a prize.”
“Didn’t we?”
“No. But you did say we would discuss how interesting you are once you figured my incredibly predicting patterns of drinks.”
“I’d rather have a prize.”
“Me telling you that you’re the most interesting man to ever grace this bar is not prize enough.”
Kurt leans even forward. “That’s a good start.”
“I could tell you that you’re also the most gorgeous.”
“In this bar?”
“In this city.”
“Go on.”
Blaine stands up to mirror Kurt’s posture. “I could tell you,” he says, his voice dropping, “that I’ve felt intoxicated since I walked in and saw you long before you took out the bottle of whisky.”
Kurt’s eyes twinkle. “I’m a tall glass of … alcohol?”
“You’re a tall glass of you.”
“Aww.”
“Kurt?”
“Hm?”
“I would like to ask for two things.”
Kurt giggles. “I won and you get to ask for stuff?”
“I think you’ll appreciate them.”
“Go ahead.”
“I would like to ask you on a date this weekend.”
Kurt looks down, bashful. “I would indeed like that very much,” he replies softly.
“And I would like you to consider kissing me back when I walk you home after said date.”
Kurt looks up and they are standing very close as it is. “Oh?” He leans a bit forward. “No kiss for the winner right now?”
Blaine smiles, tilting his head to kiss Kurt’s cheek. “I’m a gentleman, sir,” he replies, feeling Kurt’s shaky exhale on his skin. “And I don’t want our first kiss to taste of chocolate and whisky.”
“Worst taste for a first kiss.”
“Still. This weekend.”
“This weekend.”
“I gave you my card.”
“You did.”
“So you’ll call me when you’re free?”
“And you already know what we will be doing?”
“I have a plan, remember?”
“A man with a plan,” Kurt says with a crooked smile. “I do like a man with a plan.”
(Blaine does have a plan.
It’s paramount to a quinquennial plan, culminating into his proposal at the bar, with the ring held on the cinnamon stick in their hot chocolates.)
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cagcdbird · 4 years
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@secretsbeckon​ queried: " Happy birthday, dear one. I hope that these flowers are to your liking, I tried to pick out ones that had a pleasant fragrance to them. " And of course, Maria holds a bouquet of assorted flowers, smile ever so present on her visage.
Stories of danger, fearless attack, Spectres of plague and pain. All of these ghosts of our own delusions come back; And we’ll be haunted again, haunted again.
Sister Fleurette had resigned herself to her fate; it had come after the conclusion that, somehow, just somehow, she had deserved the dishonourable death as a beast. The efforts of her pious life of healing had culminated to that point; for the holy ichor had twisted flesh and bone riddled with beastly sickness and made of her a monster. She remembered trampling the blood-slick streets of Yharnam as her brother’s ilk had hunted her, made the job a sick and twisted sport. She remembered their serrated blades cutting into her flesh and spilling her insides, the pain, the blood gurgling in her throat as she took her last, shuddering breath.
She deserved to be enslaved by the nightmare and the anguish of others it trapped. No matter her efforts, they would suffer, always. Peace had no constancy here. Her only constant was Lady Maria.
Hidden so deep in veils of deceit, Imprisoned in twisting spells — Are we the plaything of fiends, or merely the dreams That we’re telling ourselves, telling ourselves?
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❝Oh... you didn’t have to do that, chérie. How truly beautiful they are. Merci beaucoup, merci, merci.❞ The gesture meant more than words in either of her languages could hope to convey, as seen by the way she dabbed gingerly at tears forming in her eyes. ❝I will fashion a handful into a crown fit for a princess of dreams, that they may rest atop your kind head. The others I will cherish for the rest of my days.❞
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alecmagnuslwb · 5 years
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New Year’s Eve: Chapter Four
Read it all on AO3 or previous ch. 1, 2, 3
One magical night, five intertwining love stories, all culminating at midnight with just maybe some confessions and kisses as the clock strikes.
This chapter: The next two chapters very much go hand in hand, this time we find Maia, who’s very much in love with girlfriend Clary and very much thinking about marrying her in the very near future, helping her spiraling boss Maryse track down the man who’s quite possibly the great love of her life. Problem is she let him slip away without even learning his name last New Year’s Eve.
***
4 P.M., New Year’s Eve
Maryse Trueblood is not a woman to live with regret. She’s sacrificed a lot in her life to get where she is, she’s done it for this publishing company she proudly heads into the future, for her children and for herself. Every mistake has been a learning experience, every misstep a trial to overcome and give her extra strength to push forward. She doesn’t regret. Hell, she doesn’t even regret the years she wasted on Robert, because those lead to this company and her four beautiful, successful children.
She’s felt regret twice, last New Year’s Day and right now, in this moment with four passes to a New Year’s Eve party that a messenger just dropped off. Because it’s four passes she doesn’t know what to do with, two of her children will be there working more than partying, the other two are somewhat hesitantly spending the holiday with their father and that leaves Maryse all alone. And she can’t help but think if she’d just given her name and number to the handsome possible man of her dreams she met last year she’d have someone to spend the evening with.
She has friends, even after the divorce and some of them choosing to follow Robert’s money instead of her, but most of them have children and partners of their own to spend the evening with. It feels a lot like last year except with no work to occupy her for most of the night she’s so much more poignantly aware of it just being her.
She paces the floor of her office in a bit of a hurried panic thinking about the prior New Year’s Eve. The divorce had finally after almost four damn years of heated court battles gone through and she’d worked herself to the bone to ignore the New Year ready to put the messy divorce and the baggage with it firmly behind her. She’d ended up in a random diner after strolling around the city and then quite literally stumbled into a tall handsome man with the widest smile she’d ever seen.
They’d talked quiet and honest for hours about silly things, but also about their kids, the stranger being a single parent as well, but for much longer than she had, before Max had called asking Maryse to come get him from his dads after a major argument broke out. She’d rushed away leaving the handsome stranger who she’d had an inexplicable connection to behind without so much as her name, let alone a way to contact her.
She hadn’t regretted the choice all year, even if she found her mind wander occasionally to warm brown eyes and an unfairly attractive trimmed beard. It hadn’t just been a rush of forgetfulness in some ways not telling the stranger how to find her had been purposeful.
While she and Robert hadn’t been together for years, and the divorce had just been a final seal on a thing that had been no more than an image of happiness for the public eye for damn near a decade, she still inexplicably felt like it was too soon. Robert may have moved on before the word divorce was even thrown into the ring, but Maryse wasn’t ready, or she convinced herself she wasn’t, convinced herself that she had to think about Max first, about the idea of introducing a new man into his life first, he may be nearly eighteen, but he’s still her baby and always her priority.
Of course all that slipped away the next morning when she’d casually mentioned the idea of her dating and her youngest had simply shrugged, “Dad’s a dick, you deserve someone who makes you happy.” He’d said it so easy, with a rare kiss to her cheek and Maryse felt that first twinge of regret, realizing that she may have left the someone who could make her happy alone in a diner with no way of finding her.
And now she’s feeling it again. Her pacing increases her mind racing with ways that she might be able to track down her mystery man, she only knows bare facts, she’s not nearly as technically savvy as she should be and frankly describing him would probably get her nowhere and just make her sound like a lovesick teenager. She’s so in her head she doesn’t even hear her office door open her assistant popping her head in and freezing on the spot when she notices Maryse’s state.
***
Maia packs the last of her things into her backpack ready to head out for the evening. She’s already changed into her glittery dress and dark red tights for the evening’s semi-formal couch surfing plans. She sends a quick text to her girlfriend, Clary, letting her know that she’s about to head out. It’s their second New Year’s together, this time around spending it with Clary’s lovely, welcoming father and Maia can’t help but hope for a lifetime full of New Year’s Eve’s with the gorgeous redhead. Forever and Clary are two words she’s very, very recently been stringing together and she can’t say any part of it sounds bad, a lifetime with Clary Garroway sounds like a dream come true.
She lets out a no doubt dreamy sigh at the thought, smiling brightly as Clary’s response comes through with just a string of varying colored hearts intermingled with x’s and o’s. Her girlfriend is just the cutest person in the world.
She lifts her bag heading to her boss’s glass door the blinds shut. She knocks quietly earning no response, but figuring it’s safe to head in anyways. Despite her formidable appearance, Maryse Trueblood, formerly Lightwood, is actually an incredibly kind woman to work for, she has a fierce, terrifying side, but it’s only saved for those who would question her authority, particularly since she left her husband and took full control of Lightwood Publishing. She’s easily the best boss Maia’s ever had; she likes her so much she didn’t even mind coming in today for a few hours.
She pokes her head in and freezes when she sees Maryse pacing the floor at a concerningly rapid pace. Maryse is a lot of things frazzled which is how she looks now, is not one of those things.
“Maryse,” she says calmly which stops Maryse’s pacing abruptly. She swivels to face Maia as she enters the office fully, shutting the door behind her. “Are you alright?”
Maryse shakes her head way too quickly, “Of course,” she says putting on an epically fake smile. It’s the one Maia’s seen her sport many a times in meetings with ignorant authors or overpaid agents with egos. “You should head out, wouldn’t want to steal anymore of your holiday.”
Maia knows she should go, should take the opportunity to head out, but she looks at Maryse and just can’t leave the woman whose kind of become a pseudo mother figure alone in this state that she’s poorly attempting to conceal.
“You know, whatever it is that’s bothering you,” Maia starts off.
“Nothing’s bothering me,” Maryse interjects, but Maia keeps going. Most bosses would find it insolent, but Maryse has always appreciated and found Maia’s bluntness refreshing telling her often it reminds her of her own children.
“I’m sure I can fix it,” she continues on. “You didn’t get me that world’s best assistant mug for nothing.” She adds on cheekily thinking of the brightly colored mug in the shades of the bi pride flag sitting on her desk that Maryse had gotten her for Christmas last year, she’d also given Maia a $5,000 dollar bonus, but somehow the mug had meant so much more. It was an acceptance and appreciation of her.
Maryse smiles at that, a real smile.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about, world’s best assistant,” she says warmly.
Maia just shrugs, “I’m gonna worry about you whether I stay and you tell me or I go. No one should be left alone pacing in their office on New Year’s Eve without at least a chance to vent.”
Maia’s stubborn too, another thing her boss has always seemed to appreciate.
And then at that it’s like the dam breaks. Maryse lets out a fond, annoyed huff and then she’s spilling it all out in a ramble, which is a thing Maia’s never heard Maryse do. She’s telling her about a mystery man who could just be her ideal match she’d met last year that she’d never told anyone about, about the regret she’s feeling and how it’s all just sort of hit her in the last twenty minutes since she received passes to one of the hottest parties in the world.
Eventually she runs out of steam and Maia finds herself asking the dumbest question she could out of all the things she just heard.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you even get passes to the Edom Records New Year’s party?” Maia asks and sort of wants to put the words back in her mouth immediately.
“My almost son-in-law or future son-in-law if he and my son who’s actually catering the event never manage to get their head’s out their asses sent them to me,” Maryse says with a genuine smile seeming to not mind, before divulging back into her pacing. “My daughter is actually performing backup tonight as well.” She adds as forethought like she suddenly remembers the fact as her pacing picks up speed.
For a moment Maia considers going, forcing her boss to the party to see her children and just heading out to the evening she’s been looking forward to, but something in her makes her want to stay. Whether it’s a loyalty to Maryse and or the romantic inside of her that has her saying her next words she’s not sure, but she knows she won’t regret them.
“Maybe I can help you track him down tonight,” she says and Maryse stops pacing again.
“Oh no,” she says stepping to Maia placing her hands on her shoulders in a warm motherly gesture. “I don’t want to ruin your evening on some wild goose chase. There’s no way we’d ever find him, but thank you.”
“I’m a millennial with way too much social media knowledge, you could know he likes turtles and has eyes and there’s a chance I could track him down,” she says with confidence which makes Maryse laugh. “And if all else fails we go over to that diner and maybe he’s there waiting for you to show up.”
Maryse looks skeptical which Maia finds insane. There’s no way Maryse didn’t leave an impact as strongly on her mystery man as he left on her. She’s a gorgeous, well-dressed force of nature with an unexpected wit and softness to her, she bets the guys been pining all year long.
“I don’t know, you’re off the clock and your girlfriend is waiting I can’t ask that of you,” Maryse says dropping her arms.
“You’re not asking,” Maia says standing her ground, refusing to back down on this. “I’m offering, off the clock.”
Maryse lets out a breath eyeing Maia in a stare down that she refuses to break. Eventually Maryse cracks and Maia feels a tiny burst of pride that she’s won this one.
“Fine,” she says as Maia happily claps her hands together dropping her backpack to the floor and already moving to the door to head to her desk and log on to every social media platform she knows. “But,” Maryse says as she follows behind her. “You get these tickets as a payment, take your girlfriend to a free fancy party.”
“I don’t need you to pay me for this,” Maia says as she logs back on to her computer.
Maryse rolls her eyes leaning against Maia’s desk, “Then consider it a thank you and not a payment.”
Maia concedes, knowing that while she won the first battle, Maryse will always win the war especially if Maia tries to turn down those tickets.
“Okay, but you’re keeping one for yourself, just in case.”
Maryse rolls her eyes again but accepts the compromise as Maia begins rattling off a list of questions about Maryse’s mystery man intent to find him somewhere out there. She texts Clary telling her she has some emergency work that might keep her longer than originally planned, assuring that she’ll be there to kiss her at midnight guaranteed.
***
Maryse watches with fondness and a little bit of awe in the way Maia understands how to manage every social media platform so well as she lists off question after question about any tidbit Maryse can provide her with about the man she met that night.
She sends the last straggling messenger in the building to an address Maia gives her with two of the tickets for her girlfriend and girlfriend’s father. She smiles as Maia reads a message on her phone likely from her girlfriend with a lovesick smile on her lips. Oh, to be young and in love. She hopes for Maia’s sake that this young love is a lasting one. She can see how happy Maia’s been in the past year and some change since she met Clary.
She’s grown quite fond of her assistant of three years, has come to think of her as another child in a lot of ways especially since she learned of Maia’s strained relationships with her own parents. She wants only good things for her, and that’s a growing feeling as she watches Maia delay her plans just to try and help Maryse even a little bit.
She answers Maia’s questions easily as her fingers fly over the keyboard logging in to social media sites Maryse has never even heard of. While she hadn’t meant to spill her guts out in a rush to her assistant she finds it nice to finally talk about the encounter and the man who’s not strayed far from her thoughts all year. The inexplicable connection that formed so quickly and the way he seemed just as stunned by how easily they’d connected.
She tells Maia everything she can recall, from his little life tidbits like his profession in the NYPD, which she doesn’t know exactly the nature of, to his appearance:
“Tall, African American with a gorgeous smile and great arms,” she says making Maia waggle her eyebrows.
She even tosses in little things she noticed, quirks and silly things they discussed that didn’t matter, but make up a person as a whole.
“He takes his coffee black, said he loves horror movies with clowns and judging from the four slices he ate in our brief time together I’d say key lime pie is his favorite,” she says and this time Maia gives her a fond, sappy look that has Maryse turning her head with a blush.
Maia scours the internet for almost three hours finding a plethora of men who match some of the aspects, but narrowing it down to a little over half a dozen who hold a few more than the others. Eventually Facebook leads her to three men who match right down to very specific posts about their love for key lime pie, but none of their images match the mystery man Maryse knows or wants to know even better.
Maia let’s out a sigh glancing at the clock in the corner of her screen. Maryse is about to tell her it’s a lost cause, tell her to just go to the party and have a nice night, but Maia has other ideas suddenly standing up from her chair, phone in hand.
“What’d you say the name of the diner was?”
“Rey’s, with an e instead of an a,” Maryse says. “Why?”
“Well,” she starts typing away on her phone likely looking for an address. “It’s nearly nine, and even with the holiday traffic we can probably make it across town by ten or so which is roughly around the time you met last year, so hopefully he’s smittenly waiting around since he’s clearly not spending his time on the internet.”
“Maia,” Maryse starts ready to oppose.
“We’re going,” Maia says as she throws on her coat with a pointed look that reminds Maryse so much of the ones her own children have been throwing in her direction for years when they won’t let something go.
And just like she does so often with her children. Maryse relents.
“If all else fails you’re coming to the party with me, Clary’s dad is an attractive, single dude and I’m sure he’d live up to your mister mystery man,” Maia muses as she grabs her wallet and keys from the desk leaving her backpack behind and pulling Maryse’s coat down from the rack by the door.
She stands behind her practically forcing the coat on, which if Maia were almost anyone else Maryse would be deeply annoyed by the action, before linking their arms together and pulling Maryse out the door and into the chilly cheerful night atmosphere with a smile filled with hope. It gives Maryse hope that maybe, just maybe Maia’s right and her mystery man will be there waiting.
***
When Maia’s phone tells them they have arrived at their destination Maryse’s heart drops into her stomach. Because right there where a small, slightly tacky diner sat just one year ago is an empty sectioned off lot.
The diner is gone and with it her mystery man.
Maia twirls around, mumbling to herself that this can’t be right. That they must have gotten the address wrong or Maryse misremembered the name of the diner.
Maryse reaches out stopping Maia’s twirling and angry typing into her GPS.
“No, this is it,” she says, the words coming out sadder than she had intended. She recalls the little bookstore next door and the bakery with the bright pink awning across the street. It’s all still here, just like it was last year. Everything except the diner.
“What kind of business doesn’t put up a notice online that they’re no longer open,” Maia says frustratedly gesturing wildly at the empty space. “Or that they’re no longer even a building!” she yells actually catching the attention of a few passerby’s that she simply waves off with a growl.  
“Probably the kind that were never very good at that sort of thing in the first place which lead them to going out of business,” Maryse says with a sad smile. She stands there dejectedly looking at the rubble that’s left behind and all that hope that Maia’s bright smile had given just slips away.
***
As Maryse dejectedly sighs at the remnants of the building Maia looks around, just hoping to spot some handsome mystery man waiting around that vaguely fits Maryse’s description, but there’s just the bustle of New Year’s partiers, no stillness, no romantic reunions on the horizon. She does however spot a flash of red hair at a distance that for a brief moment she thinks might be Clary but shoves away the possibility as she feels Maryse move beside. Her attention switches to her boss as she moves to sit down on the curb, head hung low.
She settles beside her on the curb, people shuffling around them and just barely bypassing where they sit. They sit there quietly for a while, nearly an hour, Maia uncertain of what to say.
“Here,” Maryse says eventually reaching into her inside jacket pocket. She pulls out the two remaining party passes and holds them out for Maia to take. “You should go, have fun with your girl, don’t waste your whole night away.”
Maia shakes her head pushing Maryse’s hand with the passes down gently, “I can’t just leave you out here. What if he shows up here looking for you too?”
Maryse smiles at her kindly, “I don’t think so.”
“I mean you said the connection felt mutual so maybe,” Maia starts unwilling to let Maryse just give up like this. She’s never been a big romantic in the past, but Clary has made her one and listening to the way Maryse talked about her mystery man she can’t just let her quit now.
“It’s okay,” Maryse says reaching out a hand to hold Maia’s cheek gently in a tender motherly way. “If fate wants me to find him again then I’ll find him, just not tonight. So, go have fun, dance the rest of your night away and kiss your girlfriend at midnight. Don’t sit on a dirty sidewalk with your boss.”
Her hand drops holding out the two passes again, this time Maia takes them.
“Fine, but you’re coming with me,” Maia says still stubbornly refusing to leave her boss behind. Maryse is quick to shake her head, but Maia persists. “There’s two here passes, plenty for you to come along. Just because you didn’t find Mr. Right tonight doesn’t mean you have to spend New Year’s Eve on a dirty sidewalk alone.”
Maryse smiles at her softly standing up from the curb dusting off the back of her dress before holding out a hand to help Maia up.
“Let’s go then, we already missed a no doubt incredible dinner done by my son,” she says as Maia takes her hand rising from the curb to join her. “Let’s not miss the free drinks too.”
Maia smiles, still feeling a little sad for Maryse, but happy she’s agreed to at least try and have some fun with what remains of the night. As she once again links her arm with Maryse’s she hopes against everything that Maryse is right, that fate can play a hand one day and she’ll find her mystery man even if it isn’t tonight.
***
The walk across town to the Edom records party is quiet. Maia is clearly giving her the space to talk if she wants but letting a comfortable silence wash over them if she doesn’t. She’s grateful for the gesture, it allows her mind to clear and to let the disappointment slide and instead grant her the serenity to feel content. To know that even if she didn’t find the man she’d shared a connection with last year, she’s ready to share a connection like that with someone again. And tonight she can just look forward to the New Year and its new possibilities. Take a bit of her daughters’ beautiful optimism about the holiday to heart.
It’s a long walk to the party, Maryse grateful for her comfortable shoes, but once they arrive they easily slip inside from the south entrance. It’s nearly eleven already, most of the night gone and done, a thing she hopes Maia doesn’t mind.
They enter the main hall through a side door avoiding a dessert delivery that the bouncer tells them might get in their way and Magnus is just closing out one last slow song. A song Maryse has heard a time or two and known exactly who it’s about. The music ends just as a waiter passes them with a tray of champagne that Maia immediately plucks two glasses from handing one to Maryse.
She tosses it back looking across the room and spotting her son bolting out of the door, a few moments pass and suddenly Magnus appears pushing his way through the crowd to seemingly chase after him, gaining everyone’s attention the way he always does. It’s always been one of her favorite things about Magnus, how all eyes are on him but in the time she’s known him his eyes were ever only on Alec.
She smiles hoping they work things out finally. The night may have not gone her way for romance, but she hopes it goes there’s. Maia also scans the room not watching the scene Maryse is, eventually tossing back her champagne as some DJ starts up a round of dance music to fill the space and she lights up with a smile as she points to a redhead in a pale pink dress on the dance floor.
“There’s my girl,” she says fondly. “Come on, let’s dance.” Maia grabs Maryse by the hand pulling her forward before she can protest. They near closer to Clary when she reaches out to someone, she pulls a man towards her his back now covering their view of the redhead.
The man spins her, a laugh that’s deep and rumbling carrying out over the music as they get close enough to hear.
“It’s just like when you were little, still a shrimp,” the man says and Maryse freezes. The voice so achingly familiar that she convinces herself it’s her mind playing tricks on her.
Maia raises an eyebrow turning to look at her when she stops dead in her tracks no doubt about to make some remark about not wanting to dance when the man and Clary turn so he’s facing their way. Then it’s his turn to freeze.
“It’s you,” he says and Maryse widens her eyes in disbelief. The familiarity of his voice not a trick of the mind as the face she’s been imagining for a year stands right before her.
“And it’s you,” she replies unsure of what to say. Maia is looking between them wide eyed seemingly having an internal freak out about this turn of events. What a small world it is that Maryse’s mystery man is she assumes Clary’s dad.
Maia’s likely berating herself for not putting together the pieces. It’s a thing Maryse will have to reassure her about later, but right now she needs to do something she hadn’t done a year ago.
She tosses back her glass of champagne sitting the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, the action makes the man chuckle that deep rumbling laugh again. She steps forward letting go of Maia as he does the same to Clary.
“I’m Maryse,” she says holding out a hand that he immediately takes in a soft, but firm hold. “Maryse Trueblood.”
He smiles, that big bright smile she remembers so clearly.
“Luke Garroway.”
***
Maia watches speechless and wide eyed as Maryse and Luke’s eyes meet. It takes her moment, but suddenly the penny drops.
Luke is Maryse’s mystery man. Maia frankly has never felt stupider. The signs and connections all seeming so clear as she watches Maryse hold out a hand and finally introduce herself. She shuffles to stand next to Clary both too transfixed and stunned by the picture before them to even greet one another.
Maryse’s mystery man worked for the NYPD, up until February of this year Luke had been a detective on the force. His description was apt, a picture of Luke should have come to mind as Maryse described her mystery man. The single parent thing, the daughter he adores, even the way he takes his coffee all those facts together without the pressure of social media mining to find an unknown man paint the image of the man she hopes to call her father-in-law someday soon. The key lime pie thing is the only part that doesn’t add up, Luke’s always been a cookie over all dessert’s kind of man, so she doesn’t know where that came from.
Of course it all makes sense now why they had no hits on the social media front, Luke notoriously hates all forms of the internet that dig into someone’s personal life.
“Um, what’s happening?” Clary says pulling Maia out of her thoughts.
“I believe your dad is my boss’s mystery dream man she met last New Year’s Eve,” Maia replies watching as Maryse and Luke shyly speak.
“The diner dame?” Clary exclaims turning to look at Maia who raises an eyebrow in question. “That’s what I’ve been calling her since dad told me about her.” Maia snickers. “It seemed cool at the time, whatever. He swore me to secrecy about it even though he’s been pining all year. I even made him swing by the diner earlier and we saw it was torn down.”
Maia hums, realizing that flash of red hair she spotted may not have been Clary, but Clary had been to the rubble that was Rey’s earlier.
“I wasn’t technically working, I just wanted to save Maryse the embarrassment if tonight didn’t work out. I was trying to help her find her mystery man,” Maia explains. “Which in hindsight probably should have been a lot easier than the research and literal across town searching we’ve been doing all evening.”
“What a small world,” Clary muses as she turns briefly back to them with a soft smile. Her dad’s happiness has always been such a priority for her. Maia hums in agreement pulling Clary’s hand and tilting her head indicating they leave the reunited pair to it.
Clary smiles stepping a few paces away and leaning into Maia to wrap her arms around her neck, Maia’s automatically landing on Clary’s waist.
“I didn’t realize you were such a romantic, helping your boss find true love,” Clary singsongs with a cheeky smile.
Maia rolls her eyes, “It’s entirely your fault. You made me this way.”
Clary snorts her nose scrunching up in that cute way it does sometimes and that Maia is impossibly in love with before leaning in to place a quick sweet kiss on Maia’s lips.
Maia tips their foreheads together sparing a quick glance to the side where Maryse and Luke have moved their way over to a vacant table both grinning from ear to ear. She moves her eyes back to Clary swaying to the music now playing not really dancing in time with it, but enjoying every second of it all the same. She’s so content and happy to have inadvertently helped her boss find her mystery man and warm in the arms of the woman she loves.
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thecarmillacurator · 5 years
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Your Mom Called, You Left Your Game At Home - Carmilla Fic Review & Recommendation
*New Reviews Posted Every Saturday with one-shots and drabble recommendations Mid-Week*
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Title: Your Mom Called, You Left Your Game At Home (Softball AU)
Author: catmilla on Ao3, @chaoticbecky  on Tumblr
Word Count: 127K
Chapters: 20
Rating: Mostly Teen but with Mature scenes
Ship: Hollstein
Tags I’d Assign: #softball au #rivals to lovers #enemies to lovers
Author’s Synopsis: softball au in which laura and carmilla are pitchers on "rival" softball teams in the silas parks and recreation softball league. laura takes this very seriously, carmilla does not. laura hates carmilla, carmilla loves riling laura up. laura has a strict (personal) rule against not fraternizing with the enemy (save for her best bro kirsch that carmilla stole for her team on purpose) so, what happens when a dry spell, a losing streak, and a very flirtatious carmilla all finally culminate to laura's breaking point?? read and find out!
Readability: Easy. Reading level and narrative flow make this 127k novel feel more like 80k, so it’s an enjoyably fast read considering the length. In the first part of the story, there are punctuation issues relating to dialog: I.e. Using commas at the end of dialog, within the quotation, but then capitalizing the start of the attribution or descriptive text that goes with it, or else using a period within the dialog quote when it should be a comma because there is still attribution/descriptive text to follow.  However, eventually the brain gets used to it and it stops being distracting. There are also some “it’s/its” typos, and a few sentences where the author switches up to present tense when, given the context, it should probably be future tense. But again, overall, it’s very easy to read. 
Reviewer’s Plot Summary: The definitive (at least to date) Hollstein Softball AU. Laura Hollis’ life is in a bit of a slump, which is why she’s obsessed with leading her city league softball team to a repeat Championship season of glory. Unfortunately, her team can’t stop sucking. Enter Carmilla Karnstein, captain of their rival team, who lives (and loves) to rile Laura up. Only, there’s history there. Six years earlier, they’d led their highschool softball team to a State Championship season with their mutually stellar pitching skills, and the older Karnstein- who had been a bitch and a bully to Laura as a teammate- had gotten all the glory. Laura still hates her for that, and also for what happened between them at the Championship game’s afterparty. Which is why, as Carmilla now flirts and taunts her into a (fr)enemies-with-benefits situation, Laura is ill-equipped to handle evidence that the object of her hatred doesn’t actually hate her back. In fact, for Carmilla, it’s not her team’s standings that matter: It’s the three-balls-and-two-strikes count where it comes to her heart.
Recommended to Read:  Yes. It’s by far my favorite softball AU across any fandom I follow.
Review:  There are some conceptual cons to this novel for me, and yet, rereading it never feels like a chore. One half-enemies to lovers, one-half unrequited love, it’s a recreational softball league romance that brings in the feel-good dynamic of the whole gang (Laf, Perry, Danny, Kirsch, Will), a good mix of angst and fluff, and the fun, competitive nature of sports rivalries.  The 
story is written in third person limited (primarily), with Laura as the narrative focus. Also, if you happen to be a Pitch Perfect fan, there will be a few subtle (very, very subtle) Easter eggs for you. 
The Con [Edited]: This time, I’m going to put the negative first and simply address it as a “con” rather than “concrit” because I don’t want to put people off reading it (READ IT!), and also, I can’t fairly call it as much “constructive” criticism as personal preference.  But here it is: This is not my favorite version of Laura. For my taste, she is a little too much of “a raging bad person” to Carm. 
My issue lies only in my personal moral/relationship tastes, not in something about the story itself, so just take that worth a grain of salt. And, further, there *is* a backstory that explains Laura’s dislike of Carmilla and her difficulty in changing her own opinion. (Although, I would have loved to seen some flashback scenes to their time playing high school softball together. I think it would have been exciting, and also made Laura’s tight grip on her hatred a little more fleshed out.)  Finally, I easily concede that upon rereading YMCYLYGAH for this review, I made a conscious effort to try and ‘listen’ to this version of Laura’s words and thoughts in my mind’s ear with a view towards favoring heavy sarcasm rather than the vitriolic hate I took it as during my first read. It helped a lot.  And, in fact, it may simply be that I just wasn’t getting it the first time around.
The Good:  I *love* softball AUs.  (Did I mention I really like softball AUs?) This story has great energy. It does a beautiful job balancing the tension of the softball season with the tension of the relationship plot. The balance between what happens in the main characters’ lives outside of both of those things is also nearly expertly done; there’s exactly enough to make the story and world feel sufficiently fleshed out, but not so much that it drags the plot or pacing down.  There are two subplots, one for each Laura and Carmilla, that come into the story at exactly the right relative timings in Act II, both of which weave well into the fabric of the main story to support it without coming off as contrived. The minor characters, likewise, have a perfect ratio of being present and mattering, without becoming distracting. (I appreciate the fact that Danny isn’t an overbearing jerk. #dannydeservedbetter) 
Ah hem. Here, also allow me to gush for a minute over catmilla’s Carm. How hard she falls for Laura is so adorable. How thoughtful she can be is cute. The fluffiness of her- which Laura refuses to see- is so sweet that it’s tangibly cotton candy. You root for her. And at times, you *hurt* for her. (Which is probably why I had such a hard time with this Laura, because, “Dammit, Jim, WHY DOESN’T LAURA JUST ADORE CARM BACK??!!”) Yet, this Carm keeps swinging for the fence because she’s so in love. Ungh. 
Also,something I always enjoy as a reader, and which I believe is a hallmark of really good storytelling, is when location has a pivotal and evolving role in the plot. Here, it’s the softball field. The author does a great job covering in-game action while not devoting a distracting number of scenes to it. But cleverly, she also made so much *more* happen and orbit around the field that without it, the love story itself wouldn’t exist and wouldn’t be nearly as fun. It is sometimes a wing-man, sometimes a foe. It is sometimes a dance floor, and sometimes a war zone.  Day and night, heat or cold, I’ll just hijack the saying, “In life as in [soft]ball, all good things happen at home.”
In conclusion, it’s an easy, satisfying read with laughs, tension, fluff, angst, and sex that isn’t overly smutty. 
Oh, and did I mention? 
Carm gets the girl.
NEXT IN THE QUE:  Vampire Hotel by Jenocide (Ao3) / @heyjenocide  (Tumblr)
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anyroads · 5 years
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The stupidest thing I ever read
was this idiot’s review of Jojo Rabbit in Esquire. I’m cutting/pasting it below because I don’t think the piece deserves to generate more hits for the site, but here’s the link if anyone wants it. Anyway, I was going to complain about it to the editors but instead I sent them my own review, of their review. I doubt anyone checks their public “complain to the editors” email account, but since kvetching the national sport in my country of myselfvania, I’m posting it here. 
Here’s the fuckery they published: 
Jojo Rabbit's Softening of Nazism Is the Last Thing We Need in a Best Picture Winner
This Oscar nominee is a lie, and a detestable one at that, especially in this day and age of rising white nationalism at home and abroad.
With What We Do in the Shadows, Thor: Ragnarok, and Hunt for the Wilderpeople, Taika Waititi established himself as an energetic, occasionally uproarious filmmaker. Disappointingly, his latest is a misstep of colossal proportions, a project so fundamentally misguided and terribly realized that it’s difficult to fathom its existence in the first place, much less that it’s being considered alongside great movies from the likes of Martin Scorsese, Bong Joon-ho, Greta Gerwig, and Quentin Tarantino. From grating beginning to cloying end, this coming-of-age saga about a young wannabe Nazi is a fiasco that mixes ahistorical ignorance, cornball humor, derivative style and laughable bathos to mind-boggling effect.
Like Life is Beautiful if Roberto Benigni’s Holocaust hit had imagined the SS as clowns, Jojo Rabbit is the story of Jojo (Roman Griffin Davis), a precocious adolescent who desperately wants to join the Hitler Youth, and who spends his days and nights conversing about evil Jews and the glory of the Third Reich with his make-believe BFF Adolf Hitler, here embodied by Waititi as a hyperactive, heil-crazy cartoon intended to come across as a loveably funny genocidal madman. Spoiler alert: he’s not, and the fact that he’s “imaginary” doesn’t help Jojo Rabbit sell this Führer—against all decent taste or basic sanity—as endearing. The same goes for Jojo himself, who earns himself the nickname “Jojo Rabbit” for failing to kill a bunny at the behest of Hitler Youth bullies—a sign that, though he spews vileness like a dutiful little hatemonger, he’s actually, deep down, a good person.
Waititi doesn’t stop sympathetically humanizing Nazis there. At every turn, Jojo Rabbit—whose title sounds like the name of some cuddly children’s plaything (say, a Nazi-esque Teddy Ruxpin)—is filled with virtuous Germans. Jojo’s mom Rosie (Scarlett Johansson) is a heroic resistance fighter; the boy’s camp director Captain Klenzendorf (Sam Rockwell) is a flamboyant closeted gay man; his best friend Yorki (Archie Yates) is an archetypal pudgy sidekick who, like Jojo, is enthusiastic about the Reich without having any sincerely nasty convictions; and Klenzendorf’s right-hand woman Fräulein Rahm (Rebel Wilson) is a buffoon who is meant to be charmingly loopy. Sure, we get a couple of scenes with a mean Gestapo agent (Stephen Merchant), but Waititi’s film portrays WWII-era Germany as a place populated almost exclusively by likable, honorable folk.
That’s enough to make Jojo Rabbit a lie, and a detestable one at that, especially in this day and age of rising white nationalism at home and abroad. Worse still is that its primary plot involves Jojo’s discovery of Jewish teen Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie) hiding in a secret cubby in his apartment. Jojo is initially horrified by this revelation, and the idea that his mom Rosie has stashed her there. However, his ensuing relationship with Elsa—full of oh-so-witty bits in which the girl pokes fun at his repugnant anti-Semitism—soon turns romantic, and teaches him that Jews aren’t money-grubbing horned devils after all. On the contrary, they’re people, just like him! He therefore sets about protecting his beloved Anne Frank proxy from capture, culminating in a heartwarming finale in which Jojo has a change of heart and rejects intolerance and, also, his make-believe Hitler, who’s ceremoniously booted out a window like a Looney Tunes character.
Jojo Rabbit bills itself as an “anti-hate satire,” which epitomizes its empty-headedness; you don’t need to exaggerate hate in order to expose it as bad, because hate is inherently bad, no satiric exaggeration required. Moreover, its main uplifting point—that prejudiced people will learn the error of their ways if they just get to know the objects of their scorn—is both debatable in the abstract, and wholly inapplicable to Nazi Germany. Nazis did know Jews—they lived next door to them, worked with them, socialized with them, frequented their shops, saw them on the streets, and welcomed them into their families. Yet that familiarity didn’t stop them from also ostracizing them, demonizing them, and turning them in for mass extermination. That’s the bedrock truth about Nazi Germany, and Jojo Rabbit’s desire to conjure an alterna-reality in which everyone in Nazi Germany was kind, funny, and noble turns out to be the same sort of “very fine people on both sides” hogwash peddled by our current commander-in-chief.
Suffice it to say, in the face of such ill-conceived nonsense, humor dies a swift and painful death. Waititi stages his action with colorful symmetrical compositions and playful soundtrack cuts (such as a German rendition of “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” to underscore the Beatlemania-like appeal of Nazism), which gives the proceedings the air of a cheap Wes Anderson knock-off. The writer/director/co-star strains hard to up the farcicality quotient in order to have the film play like a sweet modern comedy about a foolish goofball who eventually alters his unwise course. It’s a common quirky-indie mold, equal parts Rushmore and your average Will Ferrell effort, the problem being that Jojo Rabbit is grappling with titanic real world events (i.e. the Holocaust) that aren’t comfortably molded into silly feel-good pap.
Despite its nominal message about turning hate into love, Jojo Rabbit is a work that normalizes Nazis, and thus Nazism, and thus intolerance in general, by alternately saying that it either doesn’t exist, or is cute and amusing and powerless in the face of aw-shucks kiddie compassion. That makes it astoundingly wrong about WWII, about humanity, and also, of course, about today’s alt-right-infested climate upon which the film has been designed to comment. Putting it in the same company as the rest of this year’s Best Picture candidates—especially the epic The Irishman, the revealing Marriage Story, and the vivacious Little Women—is absurd; it’s wholesale cluelessness makes even a second-rate nominee like Joker seem downright incisive (about social alienation, xenophobia and fanaticism) by comparison.
And here’s my review of this asinine review: 
With his review of Jojo Rabbit in Esquire a few days ago, Nick Schager achieved what so many of us can only hope to in this brief and wearing mortal coil: to see with the eyes of a child and yet still write with the vocabulary of someone who almost passed an SAT prep course. Well, not with the innocence of a child, per say, more like the infantile, unformed, and uninformed perspective of one, but let’s not split hairs.
Schager begins by declaring that the Oscar nominee is a lie which, as a statement, succeeds in being both unclear and uncomfortably committed to intensity without substance. So that’s a good start. Although the review itself is fairly short, it took an approximate ten years off my life as I searched fruitlessly for any semblance of logic behind even just one of  Schager’s claims. It quickly became clear that the film elicited blind rage in him and he seems to have been unable to overcome his emotional irrationality, though in his defense, it doesn’t seem like he exerted himself much towards that end.
I think we can all agree that in a film that’s presented from a child’s perspective, both through the script and literally through camera angles, it’s a lot to expect a grown man, let alone a film critic, to pick up on the subtlety of this very blatant and clear storytelling technique. Schager conflates Jojo’s character’s development and the one-dimensional consistency of a first draft Disney sidekick, because it helps him prove the point that his perspective is reductive and banal. He conveniently skims over the differences between the sociopathic Hitler Youth and Jojo’s mom Rosie’s role as a resistance fighter, because if he were to try drawing actual parallels things would get very awkward very fast. After all, if we were to examine how the Hitler Youth are presented as psychotic fascists who make children kill small animals, and how Rosie is presented as an average German citizen doing what she can by being a resistance fighter, then we would quickly realize that the only commonality they really share is being various Germans. This, in turn, would mean that Schager not only missed the point entirely - gasp! - but is just projecting his own biases onto characters.
At the same time, he also doesn’t seem to have cracked a European history book since Caesar decided to have a chat with his Senators in the Curia of Pompey. Otherwise he would have known that though future Nazis did live next to Jews and frequent their shops, Jews weren’t hard for Hitler to separate out from German society as they had been repeatedly exiled from, blood libeled in, and consistently othered and excluded from all of European society for hundreds of years, even in Germany. Somehow Schager has managed to convince himself that buying goods and minimal amounts of intermarriage alongside a long history of bloodshed, rape, and demonization of Jews somehow amounts to widespread close friendships, while simultaneously actively ignoring all the data from repeated sociological studies proving that the best antidote to racism is exactly the kind of person to person empathic relationship that Jojo and Elsa develop. I mean, Schager literally spends an entire paragraph writing actual nonsense that contradicts these easily verifiable facts, so well done to him for being so unabashedly confident, I guess.
Then again, referring to a child indoctrinated in hate before having the intellectual capacity to understand its implications as “a dutiful little hatemonger” should have been a dead give away that this was less of a review and more of a cry for attention, I guess. The idea that the film’s aim is to explore how this indoctrination can be undone by empathy and love in an era when an increasing number of boys and young men are being radicalized online isn’t lost on our intrepid film critic, excepting, of course, the fact that it’s completely lost on him to the point where I almost want to ask Schager who hurt him. As his review continues, I grow less and less interested in posing this question, however, because he seems like a deeply difficult and painful person to engage with, not just as a film critic. Even Jay Sherman’s harshest jabs were at least justifiable and well-reasoned, and he was a cartoon.
While I’m not entirely sure where Schager gets off manipulating the most basic aspects of a Maori Jew’s film aimed at disempowering naziism through humor while presenting the horror of how easily young boys can be swayed by hateful rhetoric, I’m sure an apparently fragile ego and inflated sense of self-righteousness contribute to the way he holds empathy against both Waititi and Jojo’s character. After all, from what I can tell by this review, he sees no difference between having empathy for a child who has yet to understand and develop his beliefs, and a fully formed sociopath like Hitler. For him, laying bare the fallacy of the Nazi ideal of a unified aryan nation by showing that it will always be undermined by diversity - whether it’s via resistance fighters or people whose sexuality deviates from the established norm, no matter how average or high up in government a person is - is just a way to humanize Nazis. You know, the everyday German citizens he was so protective of like two sentences earlier. It certainly can’t have been Waititi trying to make a point about how there’s no escaping human diversity and to try is ridiculous and destructive.
And so, the simplest of things about this film, like the fact that Hitler is presented through the eyes of a child, is lost on a film critic who is too intelligent and sophisticated to notice such lowly and basically apparent filmmaking choices. The jury’s still out on whether or not he actually realized that Rosie’s character was hanged for her resistance efforts, but it’s likely Schafer was too busy raging about how offensive he found it to see any remotely human characters in a film about the indomitable and ultimately loving spirit of humanity, simply because it’s set in Nazi Germany. Although the rest of the world was able to pick up on the wonderfully insightful and gently crafted approach Jojo Rabbit takes towards its story, Schafer is content to blast it mercilessly without making a single reasonable point through seven entirely obtuse paragraphs. If you listen very hard, you might still hear the echoes of his rant emanating from his own cavernous posterior, though the head he crammed up there muffles the sound a bit.
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