#iffy on the second but pretty damn confident on the first

[short-and-ugly]

i know all the secret skoodge lines.... (<- listened to every clip of him speaking in the background obsessively until i was able to parse through the noise and figure out what he was saying)

[hoseokisgucci]

HIFTB (Hit it from the back)

GENRE: smut

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

PAIRING: Namjoon x reader

SUMMARY: OC moves into a flat, happens upon hot neighboour joon. Gets off to thoughts of said hot neighbour, and the rest is history.

WARNING: Joon hears her get off, theres a lot of consent in there, some slut shaming, some humiliation, some soft stuff. OC might have a size kink.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote something kinky in a long while. Lmk what y'all think. Hmu w requests, i wanna try writing some new stuff.

🐨

"I told you, it's a pretty good flat. I'm glad you're all moved in."

"You were very spot on with this one, thanks once again dude."

"No problem at all. I'll come over in a few days and we can have that binge session, alright?"

"Yes ma'am."

After finally breaking up with your boyfriend, ex-boyfriend now, (who was probably labelled asshat by your friends) you had to be the one to leave your shared apartment, which led to you needing a place ASAP.

Your univeristy friend was the one who had come to your rescue when you had needed a place to stay. At first, when she suggested that she had just the place in mind, you were a bit iffy. But after seeing the place, and the rent, you were willing to move in at any moment. And so you did.

Which brought you to this moment in time, where you have probably just seen Adonis in human form waiting for the lift. When you stop beside the tall serving of man, he turns to you and gives you a small smile, which brings into focus his dimples. And his face. Oh God. His dimples. His fucking face. Yeah, his fucking face would be good to see too. Shut up.

The lift opens, and he gestures for you to walk in first. He enters after you, and stands near the panel, expectantly looking at you.

"Oh, uhh 5th, thank you." You stutter out.

Surprise colors his face as he turns to you and says, "I didn't know my floor had someone this pretty."

Oh? Ohhhhhh.

Looking at him head on, your eyes twinkling, mustering all the confidence and sexual prowess in your being, you reply, "Well sweetheart, now you know."

For a second, his eyes look like they'll pop out of his head. But that moment passes, and he seems to collect himself as he chuckles and nods his head, muttering,

"That I do."

The lift doors open on your floor, and as you walk out, you turn around to coyly give him a look, twiddling your fingers in a wave. He just stands there watching you go.

Oh baby, nothing ever felt this sweet.

The next time you run into Adonis is when you're stepping out of your apartment and he's...stepping out of the apartment...beside you. The sound of you closing your door makes him look towards you, and he smiles.

Screw his face, dear God.

You smile back, hoping that your face doesn't look like that of a raccoon, and turn to face him.

"Hey neighbour," he says.

"Hey, uhhh, neighbour?" you say, trailing off.

"My bad. I'm Namjoon. How have you been?"

"I think, I've been, pretty okay. You?"

"I've been good too. You like it here?"

The way he asks this, it seems like he's hinting at something else entirely and not just asking you a basic question. The low timbre of his voice doesn't make it easier for you to not misinterpret.

Scrabbling for a reply, on autopilot, you say

"Uh yes, yes! I like it. A lot."

His smile turns into one of amusement, and he starts walking to the lift. When you don't follow, he turns to look at you, raising his brows.

"You comin' sweetheart?"

You bet your ass I am.

After running into your neighbour a few more times, you realise that this man, is truly some other being. Aside from being cute as hell and having that voice which makes anyone wanna strip, he is actually, personality wise, very nice. And kind. Everytime you've run into him, he's offered to carry your groceries or asked about your day or suggested going for a walk. This one time, he even came to your door to give you your mail, saying he went to get his and figured he'd get yours too. Other times, you've seen him at the florist, conversing with an old lady, once outside the library with a small boy, and once coming back, probably from the gym. All sweaty and flushed.

Looking at a sweaty Namjoon had triggered something inside your brain. It was as if, seeing him like that added another dimension to him in your head. Earlier he was just, nice hot neighbour. But now, now he was nice hot neighbour who can pound me into the mattress four ways to Thursday. How hot would it be, big palms holding you down, biceps flexing as he thrusted into you, skin glistening, lips rubbed raw? Very fucking hot.

All you could think about that night was Namjoon. And it was all your fucking fault. If you hadn't ogled him, then you wouldn't be wetter than London in the rain right now. And you felt like a weirdo, humiliated and dirty at the thought of what you wanted to do. Not just with him or to him, but also without him. Only if you didnt get off at feeling like this, your predicament could've been a little different. But now, after contemplating (contemplation being, you thinking of one very naked tall man), you had no damn choice. You just had to get one out while your imagination was thriving with your memory of him. So you did what you had to do. You teased yourself, fingers brushing your clit, light touches here and there. Your other hand cupped your breast, a small moan slipping your mouth as you squeezed. Your fingers left your core to traverse up and twist your nipple, gently. When you let out a sigh at feeling some sort of relief, you twisted with purpose, a sound of surprise leaving your mouth when the pain gave way to pleasure. Fondling yourself, your eyes closed and all you could think about was Namjoon. Oh, how good it would feel to have him touch you like this. To have him see you like this.

Would his eyes darken with desire, would he get off at seeing you wanting him?

With this question in your hazy mind, your hand went back to your core, where you first pressed your pointer finger to your clit testingly. Sighing in pleasure, you drew tight circles with your pointer finger as your legs fell open. As the pleasure increased, another finger joined in rubbing your clit. Your back arched, hips stuttering, body seeking more pleasure. With one last sharp twist to your nipple, you dipped your fingers into your mouth. Your imagination went wild at the thought of your mouth being filled by anything. You pressed your fingers to your tongue, eyes watery, mouth sloppy, as you moaned at the thought of Namjoon filling your mouth with his fingers, or his dick.

The hand on your clit pressed harder, but when you knew you couldn't get off with just this, you whined, the sound garbled because of the fingers in your mouth. You thrust one finger into your core at once, feeling the wet heat of your walls, and started pumping it. After a few moments, another finger was added on the way in , and the stretch made you feel good. As you continued pressing in and out, your hips moving to almost ride your fingers, your moans building in volume, the hand in your mouth came down to knead your tits. Both hands messily covered in bodily fluids, hips chasing an orgasm, throat raw from whimpering, you truly felt filthy. When you closed your eyes, you could almost see Namjoon's sweaty face, you could almost hear his groans and feel his cock pounding away. It was this thought, which made your hips move faster, made your hand squeeze harder, and before you knew it, you were writhing and cumming and moaning his name.

Little did you know that the centre of your fantasies was on the other side of the wall, in bed, feeling shocked, aroused and guilty all at once.

You woke the next morning, feeling tired and sated. When you remembered what your body had yearned for, what you had done, you were ashamed. Sure Namjoon flirted with you here and there, but maybe he was just being kind and you were just an idiot who was attracted to him. He was sweet. And very fucking nice. Last night, it felt like you crossed a very big line, and you were pretty sure you couldn't look him in the eye anymore.

After having breakfast, when you were working on laying out the plot for your next documentary project, the doorbell rang. You were pretty sure none of your friends had said they were coming over, so you were wondering who it could be as you opened the door.

Oh. Namjoon.

Your face flushed as you remembered your actions last night. You cleared your throat and smiled.

"H-hey, good morning."

When he didn't say anything, you brought your gaze up to his face, and realised where his eyes were. So, someone else is doing the ogling now. When his eyes met yours, they widened, and he cleared his throat and said,

"Hi, I was wondering if we could talk?"

Confused at his vague statement, you nodded your head. You opened the door wider, gesturing for him to get in. When he closed the door behind him, you turned to walk further inside but a hand gripped yours and yanked. Your yelp of surprise was covered by the thud you made when you were caged against the door, by Namjoon.

What the fuck. Just. Happened.

His foreams rested on either side of your head, one of his hands still holding your wrist. Looking at his face, you could only conclude that he looked wild.

Feral.

"Hey sweetheart, have fun last night?"

His low baritone sent electricity dancing up your spine, arousal stirring in your gut. But when you registered what he actually said, your blood ran cold. How did he know what you were up to last night?

As if he could read your mind, he continued, "You know, the walls are pretty thin. At first I didn't want to listen to your lovely sounds. I thought you were with someone, felt like I was being a pervert, you know? But as you went on, moaned my name, I realised what it was. Little Miss Sunshine was getting off at the thought of me. How sexy. You know what I was going to do?"

With bated breath, head turned down, you wait for him to carry on. But when you realise he was wants you to speak, you meet his gaze and whisper, "What?"

"I wanted to come here and show you how I would do it. Let you take care of the problem you gave me. You would have loved that, right?" His eyes twinkle with mirth and lust, a challenge on his lips.

It's now or never.

You surge forward and kiss the smirk right off of his stupidly attractive face. After a moment of shock, his pillowy lips start kissing you back, body coming impossibly close to yours. His hands trail down and wind around your waist, pressing your lower half to him. When his mouth parts from yours, warm breath filling the space between you, your hand grips his jaw, turning it the other way as you kiss his neck. When your kisses touch sensitive skin, his hands start roaming your body. One of the butterfly kisses you're trailing here and there turn into a hickey when you latch your mouth onto his skin and press you teeth in. The skin gives deliciously and you lave your tongue to sooth the throb. The hand on your ass squeezes as your mouth pops free from his neck, and you fall forward into him. His head dips to whisper in your ear,

"Take me to the bedroom baby."

Wobbly and inebriated, you pull away from him, and start walking towards your bedroom. As he walks in after you and comes closer, you put a hand on his chest and push. No words need to be exchanged as he stays where he is, and watches you get on the bed.

Tantalisingly, you grip your top and take it off, not once breaking eye contact with the man. His jaw ticks as he looks on, tongue teasing the inside of his cheek as you lay back, legs spreading, coqeuttishly batting your lashes at him. Your hands cup your breasts, squeezing them. When you grip one of your nipples and twist, head titling back, eyes closing and lips letting out a whimper, you feel him get on the bed, climbing his way to you. You want to close your legs, to try and save some semblance of integrity but he doesn't let you. He grips the back of your thighs, and urges you to wrap them around him. When he leans over you, you feel his hip press into yours, the onslaught of heat making you sigh. His hands urge you to leave your bosom and wrap around his neck, one of his hands brushing the hair out of your face. Tenderly, he holds your face and kisses you. Slowly, as if he's tasting you, devouring you. The thought you had last night, of him seeing you like this, makes a spark run through you and you grind your hips into his. At the sudden action, he moans into your mouth, the vibrations shaking up your core. He pulls away, fingers touching your face and asks,

"What do you want, baby?"

You contemplate while two of his fingers trace your lips, dipping in around your eager lips. When your tongue stroke his fingers, his eyes darken and he pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth, saliva coating them and making them wetter. As he feels the inside of your mouth, he says,

"Don't even wanna answer, huh? Just want something filling you up. Are you that desperate, doll?"

Of course your inability to form any thoughts, let alone words makes his eyes glint with lust, his fingers reaching the back of your throat with every thrust in. As your mouth opens wider to accommodate his fingers reaching deeper, your legs widen even more and you start grinding into him. He chuckles darkly, face hardening and says,

"Aww baby, just want to cum, don't you? Want someone to hold you down and fuck you stupid? But I haven't even done anything yet, and you're already writhing. You haven't even answered my question, such bad manners."

He ends his statement by thursting deeper, harder into your mouth, making even more drool spill over your chin, and leans down to catch one of your nipples into his mouth, and bite. You mewl, back arching off the bed and into him, tears brimming in your eyes. His tongue soothes your nipple as it swirls around it, and his fingers lessen their vigour in your mouth, stopping altogether and resting on the edge of your mouth. His face comes close to yours and he whispers,

"Tell me what you want, darling."

He patiently waits for you to come back to your senses, allowing the haze to clear from your mind. When you realise what he has said, you grind into him and say,

"Fuck me. Fuck me like you want to, like you've been wanting me."

The words make him crash his lips into yours, passion pushing him to take off your shorts. His wet hand leaves the side of your face marked with saliva and his tongue pushes into your mouth. When he tries to pulls away, you bite into his lower lip, and take it into your mouth. He stills manages to pull away from you, and sits up on his knees. Both of his palms come to rest on the inside of your thighs and massage the soft skin, eyes taking you in. He sighs and says, enamored,

"God, you look like a dream. You feel like a dream, and you sure taste like one."

Ironically, his words make you feel shy, given your state, and you whine out, "Just touch me already."

Your words make him smile, the devil incarnate, and he says, "But I did touch you, and I still am." His hands knead harder into your thighs, emphasising his statement.

You roll your eyes and huff, "If you don't fuck me soon, I'll do it myself, or get someone else to-"

Your words are cut off by a moan as he suddenly thrusts two of his fingers into you, body caging yours as his other hands comes to grasp your jaw into his hands, your mouth shutting up. The only sounds you let out are titillating whimpers. He speaks in your ear, voice darkening with dominance,

"For a slut moaning out my name last night, you sure talk a lot of shit. When I'm done with you, nobody will be able to make you feel this way baby."

When you clench around his fingers, eyes rolled back, he hisses, "Of course you like being called a whore. I shouldn't even be surprised. Desperate little minx."

He adds another finger, carefully thrusting it in and out of you, fingers slick. When your walls flutter and you moan at the stretch, he says, "Shit. Feels so good around my fingers. Can't wait to feel this pussy clenching and cumming on my cock. You want that babygirl?"

His fingers feel amazing inside of you. Longer than yours, hitting all the right spots, they make you want his cock even more. So when he asks you if you want his cock, you nod your head, which makes him loosen his grip on your jaw, and you open your mouth to let out a litany of whines, chanting "Please, please, please!"

His body straightens up again, and his fingers pull out of you. You lean up on your elbows as your eyes try and focus on him. And you see him take off his shirt, revealing toned caramel skin, almost glowing as his muscles move with him. Your mouth waters when you see his pecs, firm and strong, with nipples that are just asking to be latched onto. As he moves to take off his pants, pulling out a square foil packet from one of the pockets, your eyes focus on his bulging biceps and then his bulging thighs, and you just want to take a damn bite. You don't know from where, but you want a bite.

Coming back to the present, away from your visions of biting into honey glazed skin, you see him tearing the packet and pulling the condom onto his dick. Oh shit. Oh god. Thats. You're going to die. You're going to ascend to heaven. His cock is just asking to be sat on. Its fucking perfect. Fuck. If you weren't so delirious right now, you would've let his fuck your mouth, nice and slow and then hard and fast. But you want that cock inside of you. Now.

When he puts the condom on and strokes his dick a few times, eyes trailing up to your face, he smirks in satisfaction when he realises you kept looking at him.

"See something you like?"

"I'm seeing everything I fucking like, but if you don't fuck me right now, I'll make you watch me fuck myself."

He gets on the bed as you say this, grips your legs and yanks you to him. Eyes concentrated on your face, he says,

"As much as I would love to do that, right now, I have something else on my mind."

You sigh in relief when you realise that, finally, you'll get what you want. Only when you're expecting him to enter you, he taps the tip of his dick on your clit. The shock makes you yelp, and he does it again, harder. One of his hands grip your waist and fingers dip inside your cunt, as he spreads your slick across the inside of your labia and starts moving his dick up and down, just rubbing onto your core.

Wound up and sensitive, you arch your back when you feel him so close, and you start begging.

"Please, I've been good. Please, Namjoon plea-"

He thrusts into you, just a little, but the force of it, and his sheer girth has you moaning. The stretch that you feel borders on pain, but you know it'll turn into pleasure soon enough. Your hands find purchase in the pillow above your head, legs spread wide around Namjoon as he thrusts deeper and deeper, still not completely fucking into you.

"Since you asked so nicely, I should give a slut what she wants, huh?"

His words make you moan louder, and you start saying, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, yes, please, thank you!"

"So now that you've got a cock in you, you've remembered your manners?" His voice remains unbothered as his hips work harder to piston into you, your body getting used to him and allowing him to get deeper.

You don't answer him, his movements forcing out a staccato of moans from your mouth. When his hipbones finally touch yours, and he sheaths himself completely into you on one particular thrust, you moan so loud, youre pretty sure the whole floor heard it.

After that, his ministrations get a little bolder, his thrusts get faster, his groans get louder and his hands on your body squeeze harder. When one of your hands creep down to touch yourself, he smacks it lightly and says,

"You're not cumming like this baby. Don't you wanna be on my cock like a little slut, letting me take you from the back?"

You nod your head and say please, fingers coming up to play with your nipples instead. Namjoon slows his thrusts and pulls out completely, flipping you over, hands urging you to get on your knees. When you shakily get on your knees and arch your back, elbows supporting your upper body, you feel Namjoon get behind you, smoothing a hands down your back. Then his hands grip your waist, thumbs touching the dimples in your back and he fucks into you in one quick motion. Its like a dam breaks inside you, as you start downright wailing and cursing, hips moving in tandem as the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust, slick walls fluttering around him.

"Fuck! Fuck yes! Right there, yes, yes, yes, oh God, yes!"

Your voice eggs him on, hips gaining momentum, thighs straining to give you what you want. One of his hands push your head down into the mattress, as he says,

"Looking so beautiful baby, just like a good slut. You're taking me so well, making me feel so good."

When you start mewling, and he feels you start clenching around his dick, he moves the hand on your head to start rubbing your clit. The added stimulation makes you move your hips back onto his dick, chasing the relief that you can almost feel on your fingertips.

"That's it. You gonna let go for me? Let me feel you cum on my cock baby, come on."

His voice, straining with control, mixed with the sound of your his hips slapping into yours, makes you clench and finally orgasm, back bowing and body coiling tight and then sagging as you let yourself go. His hips grind, and his fingers draw light circles on your clit to let you ride your high.

Once the bliss you feel wears off a little, and feel Namjoon still grinding into you, you turn your head to look at him, and you croak,

"Give it to me, please. Fuck me like a slut."

His pupils dilate, jaw ticking, and his hands find purchase on your body as he starts fucking into you in the earnest. The strength behind his thrusts makes your over sensitive core feel him even more, your cunt gripping onto him tight.

When he feels your warm wet heat enveloping his cock, his hips lose momentum as he chases his peak. You start moaning out, "Cum for me Joon, please baby, come on, give it to me, fuck, please!"

Its those words spoken out in your sweet, lust laden voice which pushes him over the edge, and you feel warmth fill you as he cums into the condom inside you.

He slumps over your body, arms still holding your hips, warm breath now hitting your neck. You wince a little as he gets off of you after a moment and pulls out of you. You turn over, body sore and sated as you look at him tie off the condom and throw it in the bin on your bedside.

His body still glistens like a glazed donut, face glowing and smile blinding as he turns to look at you and climb on the bed to cage you in his arms once more. In the most shy voice, he says,

"Hi sweetheart. How you feeling?"

Your cheeks redden as you hear his voice, soft and filling with adoration. You try to keep your voice strong as you reply,

"Like I got fucked four ways to sunday. You fuck like a damn beast. How the hell are you smiling at me like this right now?"

He laughs, "Fucking you four ways to Sunday can be arranged, maybe we can add a few more ways? And I just had sex with someone I've been crushing on. Please allow me to feel the sweet joy envelope me."

For a second, your eyes widen at his words, but as you feel him nuzzle into you, naked body now resting beside you, arm thrown over your torso, you can't help but let the happiness seep into your voice as you say,

"I think I can allow that."

[chocochar]

Choice [Dabi x UA!Reader]

(AN: Okay so I'm finally getting to a Quotev request lol this one I’m iffy on posting, but figured why not. Also unfortunately you won't be able to choose your quirk in this, since the reader uses their quirk a little later, sorry!)

[(F/n)'s POV]

        I remember being a little kid and wanting so bad to be a hero. When my quirk came in everyone said I was on my way; my quirk is called 'puppeteer', where whatever I touch a nearly invisible string connects from my finger or fingers to said item and I can use it as I please. When it's a living being the strings temporarily paralyze them giving me the chance to use them like puppets. I always used it for good deeds like if a neighbor needed help or something, and as I got older I had been accepted into UA in the hero course.

        Everything seemed to be going well, and in my second year I had even been accepted into the work studies program! By my third year everyone was saying I was ready to be a pro, I came to believe it and accept it. But something just never felt right.

        I couldn't place it, but as I got to know the heroes better along with my own classmates I started to notice things that were... Out of place, maybe? The smiles they always showed started to feel more and more fake, and it steadily became more and more obvious most were doing 'hero work' for the fame and money, caring less who they helped so long as there was a paycheck involved. Not all, of course, but enough I started to second guess my want to be one.

        I tried to push these thoughts out of my head. I thought I was just being silly and that I'd forget about it. But that didn't happen, and when the Stain situation happened I was left stunned watching the news every night. Following the posts about him every day. 

        He was a villain, he was killing heroes! But yet I couldn't help this feeling inside the more I learned about his goal.

        When the League started popping up everywhere and got tied to Stain I almost wondered if they were like me; did they also notice how flawed the hero system had gotten? Did they join because of his message? Whenever I thought about this I started to get weird thoughts considering joining... I don't think I ever would, but it was still a fleeting thought. I wasn't a Stain follower or 'fan' per say, but I definitely understood his ideologies, even if I didn't necessarily agree with the outcomes. 

        Today is one of those days where I'm on patrol for the agency I'm doing work studies at and I keep thinking about those thoughts. I'd been sent on my own again to patrol this part of the district and I sigh, rubbing my neck. After I'd been attacked by a villain the other day you'd think I'd get someone else to come with me, especially since this is a more dangerous part of this district and the villain seemed to have a drug on him that boosted him a lot. I'd heard rumors that drug was sold around here, and by the things I've read on the news I believe them a lot more than I did before.

        But the hero I'm working under insisted I go alone. 

        "Let's just hope another guy like that doesn't show up..." I mumble, looking around. I wave with a smile when people acknowledge me or comment on my costume, asking a few if everything is alright around here.

        For once things seem quiet... But I get this feeling it's only a matter of time until something happens.

        Just as I'm ready to go back finishing up my rounds I hear an explosion and I jolt, turning my head towards where it came from before rushing into action. It's not too far, and I run as fast as I can; once I reach the location where screaming is heard I freeze seeing a big guy rampaging. He's at least twice the size of me and his eyes look crazed, his muscles expand as he punches into the ground to send a small quake at a local business. I recognize him as a normally small time villain, and remembering the one the other day my eyes widen.

        'This guy too?!' I think, looking around. I don't see any heroes coming, only police! Saving a few people from one of his quakes by touching a car and whipping it at him I lead them away to safety before running to the police and asking one,"Excuse me, have you heard anything about a pro coming?"

        "Wait, aren't you-" He stops looking at me before shaking his head. "Damn, no kid, sorry, there's apparently a bigger emergency nearby so we're all that's comin'!"

        "But this is an emergency too! No one at all is going to show up?"

        "I don't know, right now we just gotta do what we can," the cop shouts before we're thrown back the villain when he slams his fists our way and causes another quake under us. I luckily catch my footing but it's clear this is a one sided battle; without a hero this will be a big challenge, at least until that drug wears off.

        "Damn pros... Every emergency is still an emergency, guess I'll take care of this on my own," I say out loud before I rush forward.

        It's definitely a hard fight, worse than the villain days ago, but using quick thinking I manage to keep him distracted and busy long enough for the drug to start wearing off. The damage to buildings stays minimal at least, and I get survivors out while keeping him busy. But just as I make a mistake and he's ready to slam me down into the ground he's suddenly hit with shocks that stop him and he trembles, his eyes shutting and the big guy falling over. He seems to be knocked out, and I look to see a pro stepping up to him and smiling at me, hands on her hips.

        "You okay, kid? Looks like I made it in the nick of time.~" She winks before looking around when people start to come back, cheering. While I was being thanked by the people I managed to keep safe she was getting the main attention, which isn't really what bothers me. It's how it feels like that's the only reason she came so late... Maybe I'm wrong, and I thank her softly too, the pro patting my head before turning and going over to the police. I glance at the villain and rub my neck, people crowding the pro allowing me to slip away to go back to the agency.

        Just as I pass an alley I freeze when a deep, rough voice say in an almost sympathetic way,"How sad, the pros really left you out to dry, huh?" His tone is almost mocking, and I step back to see who said it. 

        I don't see anyone, and I furrow my brows my (eye color) eyes scanning the shadows. Seeing no one I turn back and start to walk again, but his words echo in my mind.

        'Left me out to dry...?' 

[X][X][X]

        A few days later the news spreads about what happened; the pro was regarded as a hero, of course, and even though I was briefly mentioned that was the last think on my mind. That unknown voice's words wouldn't leave my thoughts, I wanted to not believe them, to think someone was just trying to get a rise out of me. That changes when I find out the other emergency the heroes took on was just a robbery. 

        Maybe they were testing me to see if I could handle my own? But that guy was incredibly powerful, I would've died if that pro hadn't shown up! 

        That last thought alone leaves a sour taste in my mouth; she really couldn't have waited to jump in until I needed help right?

        "How sad, the pros really left you out to dry, huh?"

        For the next few days I struggle actually paying attention in school and I feel less eager to go to my work studies. I'm reminded of how I've felt about heroes for the last year, and now...

        I'm out on another patrol, but the last thing I expected was to run into a League member. Dabi. He steps out of an alley and immediately people start to panic when his hand is covered in flames. I get into a fighting stance, ready to dash towards the nearest car, but when his blue blaze disappears and he stuffs his hands back into his pockets I'm confused. It's only us now, at least until cops or pros are alerted, and unlike before I feel terrified. He's a step up from those others I've taken on, if I mess up at all he'll kill me, but something tells me he's not here for that.

        "Just like before, you're left to deal with the problem, huh hero?" He speaks up and I look surprised. That voice...!

        "You... What do you want? Don't the League have better things to do than fighting heroes in training? Or is that your MO now?" I ask, glaring at him. His eyes leave me feeling small, the cerulean gaze leaving me quivering even though I try to hide it, and the fact I can't read his expression is frustrating.

        "Don't worry, I'm not looking to fight you," He replies, scratching the back of his head. Again, I'm confused but I loosen up a bit letting him continue,"I just came to chat, I have a proposition for you."

        Cocking my brow I ask,"... What kind? I don't know how comfortable I am taking an offer from a big time bad guy like you."

        He grins lazily and shrugs, continuing,"Well first, you're one of those who shares Stain's ideology right?"

        The way his grin lifts he can see the shock on my face when he asks that; do others know about how I've been feeling about the hero society and Stain's reasons?? Was I careless, did I say something I shouldn't have at some point? I haven't had any heroes watching me as far as I know, no one has treated me differently, so how does he...?

        "How... How do you know that...?"

        "Sources, I could tell you were pretty pissed off the other day about that pro. You didn't look upset that no one realized you acted like the real hero there, just that she showed up 'just in time', I wonder..." He starts stepping closer and I freeze up, my confidence gone and looking up at him as he looms over me. "Did she know she'd get that free publicity if she saved a little UA student who was trying to play hero?"

        I swallow, shaking my head. I don't back away, somehow standing my ground while I say,"N-No, she wouldn't, she's-"

        "-a hero?" He cuts me off, my mouth shutting immediately. What does he want, is he just here to torment me? "That situation was worse than what they dealt with, yet they figured you'd be able to handle it. They didn't care, until that last second."

        I lower my head and close my eyes, silent. What can I say to that?

        "You feel it too, don't you? How heroes have become a stain that refuses to go away no matter how hard you scrub? They don't care about heroics anymore, they're not out to save people," he says, lowering his head to whisper this to me. I shake, upset but not finding the argument to fight him about this. Because I have felt this, not to that extent but I understand. "Stain saw these false heroes and took matters into his own hands. Because no one else would-"

        "What do you want?" I bite, lifting my head but surprised by how close our faces are. My anger overrules this, as I continue,"Are you just here to remind me of things I already knew? Already understood? What is it you want, Dabi?"

        He stares at me for a few moments, his face aloof and his eyes hard to read.

        "... Join the League of Villains."

        My ears ring after hearing this as my face goes blank, my mouth agape, my eyes wide. I almost wonder if I heard him correctly.

        "Wh-What...?"

        "The League is full of others like you, we could use someone like you too, someone else who sees those cracks in society that everyone else refuses to acknowledge. Despite everything you'd still rather play the hero game and know how crooked it is, instead of trying to change it and knocking those false heroes off their pedestals?"

        I have no response, and I can't seem to find one as I stare at him. The League understands how I feel, how I've felt but kept inside for fear of backlash..?

        The sound of sirens is heard and Dabi looks back before starting to walk to the alley he'd stepped out of, making his exit before he's caught. He stops outside it though and holds his hand out to me, my legs still not moving and my gaze never leaving him.

        "What do you say, doll? Be a fake like the rest, or try to change the world for the better?"

        As the sirens get closer I look away, my thoughts jumbled. But turning back to him my body seems to move on it's own as I run up to him and take his hand, the two of us dipping into the shadows as I accept my new path, even if a voice in my head is telling me not to.

(AN: So this was kind of an x reader, like it was but it was also not romantic and he didn't come in til the end and I felt it was all kind of confusing or too much detail... I hope you guys still enjoyed, nonetheless, more requests are coming and I'll be updating The Lady x The Tramp soon too)

[haus-of-wu]

The Evolution of “It’s You”

To be honest, I’m pretty sure “It’s You” was the first SJ song I went absolutely feral on, because the beat is so damn catchy, and best of all, it’s a SAD BOP!

If you’ve ever wanted a sad dance track with emotional vibes about how even after a breakup, the one in their heart will always be you (we appreciate a gender neutral love song), then this is the one.

“It’s You” holds a special place for being the last MV that all thirteen members are involved in. It also is the song that SJ was promoting while Kibum was taking a step back from singing (Kibum doesn’t have lines and is missing from promo activities because he was already pivoting to acting at this point in time) and Han Geng was filing his lawsuit. Super turbulent times in 2009.

I was going through all the different live performances of “It’s You” for nostalgia’s sake during these social distancing hours, and I was kinda punched in the gut at how much this song means to me as an ELF. I literally took an eight-year break from following anything k-pop related, yet somehow I ended back here, with Super Junior, as a full-ass adult. I’ve grown to love all the other parts of SMTown and a bunch of other groups and artists, but SJ will always be the one for me, no matter what (okay if anyone pulls something like seungri did they’re dead to me).

"It’s You” really highlights not only SJ’s versatility, but also their growth. Super Junior’s gone through so many line-up changes over the years, and no matter what version of the line distribution and choreo they perform, “It’s You” just continues to develop like fine wine. (How is this song ELEVEN YEARS OLD)

Come through under the cut for the masterlist of performance videos, what stood out to me about each of them, and to experience the evolution yourself! :)

ALSO - please send me song requests for more “Evolution of ___” type posts bc it’s just so much fun to see how performances change and age

SBS Inkigayo (May 17th, 2009)

The first performance of “It’s You”. Ever.

Donghae’s opening vocals were sooo iffy (especially if Ryeowook or Kyuhyun were juxtaposed in the verse right after) back in the day, it’s wild - but also have the time you gotta ask whether he was sick at the time or not smh

ELF are already serving the fan chant sing-along when the song had barely been out for a week - iconic, given the fact that you literally had to buy or pirate in 2009 bc streaming wasn’t a thing

What is Leeteuk’s ponytail

I miss the simplicity of 2nd gen choreo - like the whole vibe of this was “we’re going to move to the beat and make it very obvious via formation who is singing a verse/chorus (giant hint, it’s the center)”

Dance line’s (read: Eunhyuk and Shindong’s) chest pops hitting everyone in the feels - oh wait WTF this camera completely cuts off Eunhyuk and Shindong’s chest pop duet

2009 Eunhyuk and Shindong, don’t worry, your suave vocals will come soon, just give it a few more years

Yesung’s ad-lib solos during the last chorus were done standing up and off to the side - just wait for the the drama to escalate in later performances folks

 Music Core (May 30, 2009)

(I’m maxing out on the number of embedded videos so click the header for the link)

Not much different from the one above, just better camera angles and resolution, and the first(?) time Yesung does his ad-lib solos while kneeling on the floor, bc you gotta add some d r a m a

Music Core (June 6, 2009)

(Once again, click above for the link)

Don’t really know whether this one or the performance right below came first

But Han Geng is MIA bc of...Reasons™, so Siwon takes over his opening ad-libs

Yesung’s face has a blankness to it during his verse, which is just so sad; usually he has an aura of confidence but it was completely not there during this at all (literally just compare directly to the performance above and it’s SO different)

Leeteuk’s awkwardly like smiling during his verse? (It comes off like he’s trying too hard to make it look like things are fine) But it’s not his usual camera expression so you just know something is wrong

Ironically this is probably the stablest Eunhyuk’s vocals have been during 2009 for his line

It’s really obvious that Yesung is struggling to keep it together emotionally for this performance like good god, he’s really been blank-slating a lot of this performance

And then Heechul has to come in looking depressed as fuck (which is hella valid) for his solo and nails it (while looking like his cat died - long live han j(ae) heebum)

Siwon and Yesung bump into each other as they get into the ending pose

God I really could say more about how each member performs as they cope with this but I’ll refrain

Music Core (Sometime later, 2009)

(Once again, click above for the link)

Hella sad times because Hangeng is notably missing right from the get-go again, with Yesung taking his opening ad-libs

Also Kangin is missing but I cannot remember why - kudos to Sungmin for covering (but idk why he was trying so hard to sound raspier like Kangin bc that did not work for him)

Imagine having to rearrange all the formations and reassign parts to promote on a regular music show because you’re missing two whole members

Correction, THREE whole members because Heechul was so emotionally fucked up from Hangeng leaving

Kudos to Leeteuk for being that Bitch and delivering on Heechul’s solo

Like, this was the peak of 2009 turmoil for SJ

At least Yesung had some (angry) spark in him for this performance bc I would not be able to handle another sad/blank performance from him (that shit hurted ok)

This whole performance has a simultaneous sense of muted solemnity and (angry/petulant) fighting spirit to it bc they’re all trying real hard to compartmentalize the shit that’s happening outside of this stage

I think the phrase is more like “y’all think this shit is going to break us, but it’s not” which once again goes along with the whole “SJ is a bunch of veterans that will keep going on even if the road is barren/till the end of the line” concept that they’ve painted for themselves

Super Show 5 - Seoul (2013, no 83line)

The Super Show DVDs give such superior sound quality (infinitely better when listened to with headphones). You can really hear the distinct timbre among all their voices.

eunhyuk what are those glasses/shindong what is that hair

congrats to dance/rap line on their vocal growth !!

Leeteuk and Heechul were off in the military during SS5, which means that Ryeowook and Kyuhyun got to take over Heechul’s mid-song solo. (I honestly don’t think I would have survived had Ryeowook done the ending of that part, because he has the type of voice that pierces through your heart)

yesung going feral during his solo on the platform is everything tbh

Super Show 5 - Osaka (2013, no Yesung)

It’s the same tour, so most aspects of the performance are the same. Yesung’s absence (due to mandatory service) led to some interesting change-ups, namely:

Sungmin taking his first verse with his fresh clear vocals

Heechul pulling a Heechul, appearing on the platform and then promptly disappearing - king of GHOSTING

Ryeowook being in charge of the SCREAM solo. KRY have completely different timbres, and Ryeowook’s take on this solo gives a very different feel.

Yesung’s known for having the more soulful voice, whereas Ryeowook executes in a clearer manner that comes off as more technical/didactic way

KRY comeback next month guys it’s COMING

Super Show 7 - Seoul (2017)

(You’re gonna have to jump to 3:30 bc this is a 2-in-1 vid)

SS7 brought this hit back in a completely new way.

The blindfolds, guys... p l e a s e.

The original choreo relied a lot on the number of members. Even though the choreography has completely changed, and there’s only half the number of members, the song still hits.

Once again, not shutting up about how much Eunhyuk’s vocals have improved. Like...he really was out here during the 8th album/SS7 and taking over main vocal lines. He’s developed so much control over his voice, and the result we hear is a honey-sweet smooth timbre.

Chest pop dance break reinvented but still referencing the dance line duet

You barely notice when Siwon covers Kangin’s lines and Leeteuk covers Sungmin’s during the second verse, bc this time around they actually picked members with similar timbres (i am still ?? at why sungmin tried to emulate kangin’s voice to the point where it messed up his own verse during that 2009 performance)

Shindong leading a chorus, did 2009 us ever see this coming

The fact that Yesung finally does his kneeling scream solo smack in center sends

[artificialqueens]

as the stars align 7/? (branjie) - rujubees

A/N: hollywood enemies to lovers au; 5.2k - also on ao3

Brooke ended up enjoying her time in Vancouver more than she’d expected to. Life on a TV set was fast-paced and constantly busy, so there was little time to miss Vanessa or wonder what more could’ve happened between them had the timing been right.

It was certainly weird being thrust into a new role so soon after Stars, and Brooke knew that playing two queer characters so close together would raise more questions about her own sexuality, but she was used to the mindless gossip and speculation by this point.

Even stranger was working with a love interest that wasn’t played by Vanessa. Her new on-screen girlfriend was played by Violet Chachki, an actress Brooke greatly admired, but she wasn’t attracted to her despite her gorgeous looks. When they filmed their first kiss and Brooke felt nothing, she almost wanted to laugh at how she ever thought she didn’t have feelings for Vanessa, when their scripted kisses had been completely different to any other Brooke had ever experienced.

Even so, Brooke returned to Los Angeles three weeks into October, convinced that she was over Vanessa. ‘Out of Sight, Out of Mind’ had been working out well for her, having not seen the other woman for over two months, and having had barely any time to stalk her Instagram or catch up with her over text. They’d exchanged a couple of messages here and there, mostly in the form of promises to meet up once Brooke was home, but they didn’t bring up That Night, and Brooke had no expectations of it happening again.

Which she was fine with. And maybe Brooke hadn’t slept with anyone else since Vanessa, but it was just because her work was tiring and any days or nights off that she had, she wanted to keep to herself rather than share with other people. Besides, it had only been two months — hardly an unbearable amount of time to go without having sex.

It was a Tuesday when Brooke finally opened the messages she’d had stored on her phone since the day prior, having then been unable to face socialising after her travels back from Canada. She hated to admit how one caught her eye immediately.

Vanessa: Halloween Party at mine next Thursday! U better come, I know ur home then bitch. ;)

Brooke laughed, excitement bubbling inside her at the thought of getting to see Vanessa on one of her favourite holidays. She sent a quick text in confirmation that she would be present, and immediately began coming up with all of the costume possibilities, feeling thankful that her hectic schedule from the last couple of months meant that she’d forgotten the occasion was so near, and subsequently she had failed to commit to any plans for the night already. She had put so much effort into convincing herself that she was over Vanessa, but still nothing could persuade her that there was any better way to spend Halloween than in her co-worker’s company.

Brooke had a rummage through her walk-in closet on the off chance that she would find something right for the event, but all she had was last years mummy costume that had worked perfectly with her ballet training. Who was she kidding, anyway — of course, she was going to use the party as an excuse to treat herself to something new and custom made. It would be the first time seeing Vanessa — and probably the rest of the cast and crew — in months. She had to look good.

It wasn’t long before the perfect idea came to mind. She only had a week, but luckily Brooke knew just the designer who would be up to the task.

—

On October 31st, Brooke stood in front of her dressing table mirror, adding the finishing touches to her lipstick, proudly admiring her work. She had to admit, she felt like this was the best she had ever looked. The luxury of having a week off meant she’d gotten tons of beauty sleep the night before, lying in before taking her time to pamper herself in the shower, spending hours carefully applying her makeup and gently curling her platinum hair that she had allowed to grow long.

She’d decided to go as Catwoman, and enlisted one of her favourite local designers, Raja, to tailor her the perfect latex catsuit that fit like a second skin, clinging to her hips and ass so much she felt explicit. She’d decided against a mask, wanting to show off her freshly bleached, tumbling locks, and settled on a pair of matching cat ears to complete the look. It was minimalist, yet sexy, if Brooke did say so herself.

“Brooke! The car’s here!” Nina yelled up the stairs, Brooke slipping her feet into slick black heels and grabbing her clutch and phone. She checked the time, noticing that it was already half nine, meaning the party would be in full swing by now. Brooke also had a couple of casual texts from Vanessa that she’d held herself back from replying to, for some reason feeling the need to play it cool as much as possible.

“Tequila shots before we leave?” Brooke suggested as she descended the stairs as elegantly as one possibly could in sky-high heels that she really should’ve waited to put on.

“Girl, oh my God, look at you!” Plastique let out as she came into view. She looked pretty cute herself in a pink Playboy bunny outfit. Brooke didn’t know the girl well, having only had brief exchanges with her during filming, but she had seemed to form a group somewhat with Shuga, Yvie and Scarlet, while Brooke had been focused on Vanessa the whole time. She thought it was about time she got to know them all a little bit more, and the idea of turning up to Vanessa’s in a group comforted her —

— hence the gathering at her house right now, the four women ready in the hall, plus Nina of course.

There was a chorus of wolf whistles and compliments as Brooke did a little strut to the kitchen — she knew that in another life, she could’ve been a full-time model.

“Who you tryna impress tonight, bitch?” Yvie asked, leading Scarlet hand in hand as the rest of the girls followed Brooke into the kitchen.

“Oooh, Brooke Lynn, please tell us!” Nina exclaimed dramatically, as if the last time they spoke in person hadn’t consisted of Brooke claiming she was over Vanessa and Nina telling her she was nuts. Brooke fixed her with a stern glare, hoping she could put her off of pulling this shit all night, but it had been a long time since her manager had been intimidated by her.

“Oh, guys, hush. It’s no one, I’m just trying to make my LA society comeback in style, that’s all,” Brooke said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s a damn waste if you ask me. You look fine as hell tonight, honey,” Shuga hummed. “You know, if I didn’t have a husband…”

“I know what you mean, Shugs. If I were single, I’d be all over that,” Scarlet teased, Yvie sticking her tongue out at her in response. “Seriously, Brooke. You can score whoever you want in that getup.”

“Okay. Why are you guys being so nice? I mean, I’m not the only one dressed up here,” — a quick glance at Plastique’s wide-eyed face confirmed Brooke’s suspicions that something was up. “Nina. A word?” she said through gritted teeth.

The other girls scurried off into the hallway, leaving Nina to mindlessly clear up the glasses as she tried to avoid Brooke’s gaze.

“I’m your manager, not your housekeeper you know —“

“Did you tell them about Vanessa?” Brooke jumped to the point.

“See? Your mind went there even though you think you’ve moved on. You totally aren’t over her!” Nina whizzed round to face her.

“I — what? I am. Clearly you don’t believe me and told them about her — us — anyway.”

“B, look, everybody knows. It’s been obvious for months, and even now, you still talk about her in the same way as before. You guys had sex!” — Brooke shushed Nina frantically — “She wants you back, I don’t understand why you’re trying so hard to pretend you’ve moved on. Isn’t this what you’ve been hoping for the whole time? Why are you trying to downplay it?”

“Actually, I don’t know that she wants that. When we slept together, I made it clear it was a one-time thing. I have no reason to think she wants a relationship or to even have sex again,” Brooke whispered.

“Brooke, you — why did you say that? God, you’re so dumb.” Nina was shaking her head like Brooke was beyond her help and she was finally giving up.

“It was just easier. She’s so young and, like, the biggest romantic I’ve ever met, and she’s the most beautiful goddamn person in the world. I wasn’t about to try and tie her down only to abandon her for Canada a week later,” Brooke revealed sadly.

“Oh, Brooke. You’re so in love, it amazes me how you don’t see it.”

“I — what?” Brooke all but yelled. “I’m not — I’m not in love, I told you, I’m… I’m fine,” she spluttered, which probably wasn’t helping her case. “I don’t even have feelings for her anymore. You’ll see, Nina.”

“Brooke, don’t make yourself unhappy to prove a point,” Nina pleaded with her. The words made Brooke uneasy. She wasn’t in love. She’d had a crush on Vanessa, sure, but she’d never let it get that deep. Nina didn’t know shit.

“Y’all, some of us would actually like to get to this party before the clock strikes midnight,” Shuga called from where the rest of them were stood waiting.

Nina sighed before trotting off, Brooke trailing behind as soon as she could compose herself, her walk lacking the confidence she’d been full of before.

—

“It’s ten o’ clock, where is she?!” Vanessa exclaimed between nervous glances at her phone and sips of her cocktail. Time Warp was ringing through her large, bustling open plan apartment, and as much as Vanessa was proud of her Halloween playlist, she really just wanted to turn it the fuck down so she could listen out for any signs that Brooke had arrived.

“Bitch, chill, you’re being too much. She’s probably on her way. You’ve already texted her enough times,” Silky huffed at her, her iffy The Wiz cosplay making her one of the least menacing costumes there.

“And she ain’t even read ‘em. What if she wants nothin’ to do with me anymore?”

“Calm yo melodramatic Libra ass down. I’m serious, Vanj, you need to play hard to get.”

In spite of Silky’s words of wisdom, Vanessa knew she’d be unable to relax and enjoy herself until Brooke finally showed her face.

She missed her so, so much.

When Brooke announced that she was going away for work in Canada, Vanessa briefly thought that maybe she would finally be given the distance she needed to move on. That possibility flew out the window just as quickly, as after she slept with Brooke, she knew that she couldn’t just move on from her. Not now, possibly not ever.

Vanessa remembered how Brooke had propositioned her, and how she’d almost hoped that the sex between them would be bad. Almost hoped that they were incompatible, since Brooke had made it very clear that she wasn’t after a relationship, or even a friends with benefits situation — she wanted a one night stand, and Vanessa wanted so much more.

But, cliché as it was, the exact opposite had turned out to be true, and Vanessa couldn’t say she was surprised. It had been some of the best sex she’d ever had, passionate and intimate and short and sweet because it had been such a long time coming. And there was no getting Brooke out of her head after that.

After a few more minutes of socialising, pretending to be immersed in conversations but really just wishing it was Brooke she was talking to, Silky pulled Vanessa aside.

“She’s here,” Silky announced like they were in some sort of spy movie. Vanessa tried to break free of her grasp, but Silky had more advice to give. “Be cool. Trust me, if you want her to fuck you again, act like you barely even remember who she is.”

“Silk, that’s ridiculous,” — but Silky was shaking her head disapprovingly, and the more Vanessa thought about her strategy, the more she supposed there wasn’t any in harm in waiting for Brooke to come to her first — “but if Brooky don’t wanna answer my texts, maybe she does to deserve to be left on read for a little bit. Like, in real life.”

Silky frowned at that, perplexed.

“It’s an analogy, bitch.”

After a few more minutes of conveniently failing to notice Brooke’s arrival, Vanessa turned around and found the woman of her affections already staring at her, though she quickly diverted her gaze after getting caught before returning it and giving Vanessa a small wave and a shrug. Vanessa smirked in response, causing a blush to rise in Brooke’s cheeks, clashing endearingly with the sexy, badass character she was portraying.

Brooke looked so hot she made it hard to look away, but Vanessa didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of thinking her newfound presence had that much of an effect on her. Didn’t want Brooke getting any impression of Vanessa waiting for hours, longing for Brooke to show up.

Even though that was exactly what she had been doing.

—

Brooke wasn’t one for conspiracy theories or jumping to conclusions, but all night she’d had a sinking feeling that Vanessa had been avoiding her.

It started when she’d arrived, when Vanessa certainly hadn’t seemed as enthusiastic about their reunion as Brooke felt. She’d given Brooke a quick smile in recognition, and then gone back to her interactions with the group of people she was currently socialising with, barely sparing Brooke a second glance.

She felt self-absorbed even thinking it, but Brooke had at least hoped she’d come over and say hi — she’d even kind of been expecting it after Vanessa had dropped her so many messages about the party. But maybe she was just being polite. Maybe she’d had too many people back out already, and she just wanted to make sure.

Whatever the reason was, it hurt more than Brooke could fathom. She became deflated and dejected, trying not to sulk as she mingled with her other co-stars and crew members, knowing that she was probably looking like the lamest, most miserable Catwoman to ever exist.

It stung to think that perhaps Vanessa regretted what had happened between them, but then again, why should she still be caught up on that night? If Vanessa ever felt something for Brooke, she’d more than likely moved on by now. After all, Brooke had.

If one good thing came out of Vanessa ghosting her, it was Proving Nina Right.

“I told you so,” Brooke said when she finally caught up with her best friend again, at around midnight. She was straddling the line between tipsy and drunk from all the alcohol she’d been knocking back in self-pity.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I doubt you did. You know I’m never wrong,” Nina replied with a smile.

“Vanessa. I’m over her.”

“And have you been thinking a lot on this night about how you’re over Vanessa?” Nina laughed.

“I mean it, bitch. I haven’t talked to her since I got here. Not once, nope.”

“By choice?” Nina questioned, narrowing her eyes.

“Well. Not exactly,” Brooke scrunched her nose in response. “It’s just… I think she hates me.”

Nina huffed dramatically, seeming uncharacteristically impatient with Brooke Lynn.

“Right. That’s it. I don’t even wanna hear this. You two are the worst communicators in the world and I’m tired of it,” — she grabbed Brooke’s hand and dragged her across the kitchen and out onto the deck, where Vanessa stood, a literal angel, glowing under the moonlight.

“Vanessa! How good to see you! Love the party, dear,” Nina called loudly, Brooke feeling like a bratty child being forced to apologise on the playground.

“Hi, V,” Brooke greeted Vanessa, warmth surging through her when Vanessa grinned back at her.

“Sorry, I have to just take this,” Nina butted in, gripping her silent phone, “after all, a manager’s job never ends.”

“How was Canada?” Vanessa started after Nina had left them to it.

“Good. Really good, actually,” Brooke confessed eagerly. “How’s LA been?”

“Same old, you know how it is, girl.”

“Yeah.”

There were a few moments of awkward silence which Brooke used to subtly take in Vanessa’s costume. She was wearing a detailed white corset and bra, huge wings, and a bejewelled headpiece, plus matching stockings that made Brooke want to stare at her thighs all night long. And maybe touch them a little bit, but that was fine, any self-respecting lesbian would feel the same way.

“Brooke, about what happened between us, after the wrap party —” Vanessa began, making Brooke seize up in a panic at the elephant in the room finally being addressed.

“We can forget about it,” she blurted out, her ego unable to handle Vanessa’s words of rejection right now. “It’s no biggie.”

Vanessa said nothing, snapping her head away from Brooke to look up at the moon again.

“Sure, let’s do that. It’s for the best,” she agreed finally.

“Yeah,” Brooke whispered, at a loss for what else to say.

Vanessa faced her again, and shit, she was a terrible actor. Her eyes were wet and had she really been crying this whole time while Brooke was unaware right next to her? Not that Brooke could blame her — she was already feeling like they’d gone and fucked up the tentative friendship that had been formed between the two of them. Brooke felt her throat constricting as she realised how much she hated this. How different it felt now.

“Good talk, I guess,” Vanessa summarised, and she was gone from Brooke’s side in a flash.

—

Brooke had decided to call it a night soon after her conversation with Vanessa, no longer in the mood for any kind of festivities. She was quiet the entire Uber ride home, and was grateful when for once, Nina chose not to pry.

They couldn’t avoid each forever, though, as that Saturday they had their first press gigs for As The Stars Align. As Brooke spent the morning getting ready, she regretted how much she was not looking forward to the day’s schedule — first a panel with the whole cast, and then some paired interviews; naturally, as co-leads, Brooke and Vanessa had been put together for all of theirs.

The panel rolled around too quickly, and Brooke found herself on stage in a line with Michelle, Asia and Katya to her right, Vanessa and the rest of the cast to her left. There was an audience of a few hundred in front of them, and their moderator was a woman called Monét.

“Hi everyone,” Monét began, receiving cheers in response. She introduced each person on stage and gave out some background information on the movie before scrolling on her iPad and launching into the questions. Brooke spared Vanessa a glance, but her co-star seemed strangely out of it. Brooke wanted to bring her back to reality, check she was okay, but she couldn’t catch her eye. As a result, Brooke missed the first couple of questions, and was thankful that none of them seemed to be directed at her. She made a mental note not to watch the panel back later and scrutinise herself for a lack of professionalism that would no doubt be obvious to her own eyes.

“Katya, I wanna talk about your decision to be involved in the creative process of the movie. What made you want to take an active role in the production of As The Stars Align?” Monét asked as Katya’s face lit up.

“This project is my baby,” Katya began with a slight chuckle. “This story is so special to me and to be honest, I don’t trust these bitches unsupervised,” — the audience laughed and Katya’s eyes widened as she apologised and asked whether she was allowed to swear.

“But in all seriousness, I did want to make sure it was done right. A lot of LGBT people, especially young ones, have told me directly how much my book means to them and I didn’t want to let them down. It’s why I wanted the diverse cast and crew that we have. Unfortunately, they happen to be horrible monsters to work with,” Katya joked.

“Speaking of monsters…” Monét grinned wickedly. “Vanessa, what was it like working with the Brooke Lynn Hytes? And playing love interests no less?”

Brooke blushed slightly, turning to Vanessa with a quirked eyebrow. Vanessa looked caught off guard.

“Lemme think how I’m gon answer that,” she teased after a few seconds. “And get your camera phones out, I know y’all be recording and tagging.”

“Please, everyone's dying to know if the diva rumours are true,” Monét carried on sarcastically.

“Working with Brooke Lynn was… an experience,” Vanessa began, earning some stifled laughs from those on stage who knew their shared history. “She’s damn fierce at what she does — if I’ve had even a fifth of the career she’s had by the time I’m her age, it’ll be a blessing.”

“You calling me old, bitch?” Brooke quipped, and the audience laughed again in delight, but Brooke had seen Vanessa smile enough times to know that her heart wasn’t in the one she was giving her right now.

The rest of Monét’s questions went off without a hitch, but when they directed the line of enquiry to journalists in the audience, Brooke felt a sinking feeling in her stomach at the unpredictability of it all. One of the paparazzi introduced himself as being from Fox News, and Brooke wondered how she was going to pretend to be nice to this man.

She’d expected casual sexism or homophobia, but she almost threw up a bit at the actual words that the words left the reporter’s mouth.

“Brooke and Vanessa, we’ve had many inside sources claim they saw you both enter the same hotel room on the night of the wrap party. What I want to ask is, is there any truth to the speculation that the two of you are romantically involved?”

Monét had to hush the rumblings of the audience, giving Brooke a few extra seconds to think on her feet. Vanessa looked horrified (which Brooke would’ve taken offence to if she didn’t feel so bad for her) and was choking on air, most likely thanking her luck that they had been saddled with passing a few microphones around rather than wearing them.

“Brooke, Vanessa, feel free not to answer that. I’m speaking to the management about vetting as soon as this is over,” Monét said, only half kidding.

“It’s okay. Vanessa and I aren’t together, but wouldn’t that be quite the story?” Brooke replied, the words tasting like salt. “However, she has become a very good friend of mine, and, um, she deserves the world. All the amazing humans on this stage do.” The audience aww-ed and ahh-ed, touched.

“Y’all heard me earlier, I wouldn’t be caught dead with her senior ass,” Vanessa exaggerated, Brooke laughing despite the joke made at her expense, gratefully that Vanessa was able to lighten the mood.

After another twenty minutes of audience questions, thankfully none as invasive as the first, they departed the stage and took a lunch break before their upcoming afternoon of paired interviews. Everyone ate together at a big table, Vanessa sat a few seats down from Brooke, and she was still being unusually quiet.

Brooke hated not hearing her loud voice soaring above all the rest.

—

Vanessa’s Halloween party had not gone to plan.

She had envisioned it so well — Brooke would arrive just as Vanessa was a couple of drinks in wearing a bomb costume; they’d lock eyes from across the room and the spark would be reignited. They’d spend all night catching up, just the two of them in their own corner, and maybe one of them would make a move.

Maybe she’d had her hopes too high expecting a grand love declaration or a kiss that swept her off her feet, but she thought Brooke would at least be down to continue whatever they started. Instead, her day had ended with Brooke telling her that she wanted to pretend that night had never happened.

Vanessa was fucking crushed.

She had never experienced heartbreak, not really — her only relationship had been Matt, and she had been more relieved than sad when it was over. But she was completely devastated to realise that her fantasies of a future with Brooke would remain fantasies. Vanessa hated herself for falling for Brooke so hard and fast, especially since the intensity of her feelings were clearly unreciprocated.

Vanessa was also, despite being a professional actor, completely terrible at hiding her feelings. When she was in character — following a script — she was mostly able to detach herself completely and convey any emotion regardless of whether it was one she able to empathise with, but when she was being herself it was no use.

She was sure fans would pick up on it, would question why Vanessa wasn’t her usual bubbly, loud self on stage. If only they knew.

Her first joint interview with Brooke was with a tall, blonde woman named Alaska, who wrote for an LGBT magazine. When Vanessa joined her in the small press room, Brooke Lynn was already there, early as ever (except for her Halloween party, Vanessa thought bitterly).

“Hi, girls,” Alaska drawled. Her questions were pleasantly thoughtful, focussing on the message of the movie, allowing them to give in depth, individual answers, though afterwards they were ordered to up the chemistry between the two of them, so clearly they hadn’t been everything the publication was looking for.

And she had to give it to her — from then on, Brooke did start making an effort to connect with Vanessa in her responses, even though Vanessa struggled to put their personal issues aside.

After more interviews that seemed to go on forever, mostly with male reporters who were as boring as they were old, they had one final discussion with a girl named Tatianna, which would be printed rather than filmed. She was more gossipy, but just as sweet as Alaska had been.

“Ladies, this one’s a little personal, so just let me know if you want to move on and we’ll cut it out. I don’t know your identities, but I was wondering whether your own experiences with sexuality have influenced the way you play these characters, and your decision to take on LGBT roles.”

Vanessa looked at Brooke, hesitance etched over her features, and it suddenly clicked that Brooke was a celebrity, and her sexuality wasn’t public knowledge — Vanessa had been oblivious before Brooke had come out to her. She didn’t know why the thought had never occurred to her before, but she realised that Brooke was most likely being intentionally private about her sexuality for whatever reasons and she didn’t want to put her in a compromising situation, no matter how frustrated she was with her right now.

“Obviously, I can’t speak for Brooke, but yeah, it definitely played a role for me. I’m bisexual, and there was such a lack of bi representation for me growing up — there still is now, and of LGBT representation in general. I always assumed I was straight, ‘cos I didn’t even really know that liking more than one gender was a thing. There was no bi figures, in fiction or the media, or if there was, they were constantly being erased… but that’s a whole other discussion, Mary.” Vanessa noticed that Brooke looked utterly engaged in what she was saying, and it was nice to feel heard and understood.

“So yeah, I was definitely conscious as a bi person about taking queer roles. We deserve to tell our own stories, you know? I feel like having a movie like this with such a diverse cast would’ve really helped the teenage me who was just trying to figure herself out.”

Tatianna nodded compassionately, before turning towards Brooke.

“I, uh. I agree LGBT representation is so important, and the way it’s handled is always an indicator on quality in a script. I feel like people of any sexuality can relate to queer roles — especially women, or people of colour, anyone who knows what it feels like to be marginalised or a minority. But yeah, there’s definitely a lot of me in my character,” Brooke confessed, smiling half-heartedly.

“Well, this has been a very insightful conversation. Thank you both for your time,” Tatianna concluded, shaking their hands.

The interviewer began talking with the behind the scenes people whose jobs were a mystery to Vanessa.

“Girl, what a day,” Vanessa yawned, hoping they would be given the okay to leave soon.

“Ness, I… I’m proud of you, you know,” Brooke said. Vanessa’s heart melted with both affection and sadness at Brooke’s gentle voice, and properly looked her in the eyes for the first time in days.

“Bitch, don’t get soft with me.”

“I’m serious… you just, like, came out to the whole world. That’s a big deal.”

“Well, not the whole world, just Refinery29 readers,” Vanessa joked. Brooke laughed a disproportionate amount.

“You ever think you’ll do it? I just realised we never talked about all that —” Brooke’s face became immediately pensive at Vanessa’s question.

“Sure,” she decided after a few moments of reflection. “I mean, I have my hang-ups, but if I got into a really serious relationship, I wouldn’t wanna hide it, y’know?” — Vanessa nodded — “but sometimes I worry that I’ve left it too late. Like, what if everyone feels I’ve been lying by omission all these years and I end up betraying both straight people and the LGBT community at the same time?”

“Ima stop you right there, girl,” Vanessa cut her off. “You don’t owe nothing to nobody, got it? If you do it, it’s gotta be on your own terms. Gay people won’t give a shit that it didn’t happen earlier, they know how it is. Trust me, if they ever find out Brooke Lynn Hytes is one of them, they ain’t gonna be mad.”

Brooke raised her eyebrows, and Vanessa wondered if she knew she was projecting.

“And I’m not done. To address your other concern. If homophobes are pissed then you’re doing something right. You finessed them and got their homophobic coin, be proud, bitch!”

“You know, surprisingly, that made me feel a lot better. Thanks, Ness,” Brooke shared with a small smile.

And Vanessa felt better, too. The issues between her and Brooke couldn’t be magically fixed, but for now, a weight had been lifted.

[janiedean]

on whether jaime and brienne *deserve each other* or not

right, this is a thing that has been bothering me for a while.

now, I’m not saying that people have to ship jaime and brienne or think it’s obligatorily romantic - to each their own. but two of the most popular arguments against it are that ‘he doesn’t deserve her’ and that ‘she’s too good for him and deserves better’ and honestly… there’s a lot with both that really irks me and I don’t really think it’s a fair way to put it so… sorry for the rant but I’m gonna go at it just to have it off my chest.

first of all, premise: I don’t really see how deserving someone - if we’re talking about mutual relationships in between consensual adults - is a thing that should be even taken into account. people like people, they don’t…. weigh their merits vs their non-merits or whatever and decide whether they’re worthy of being dated based on that. people fall for people without thinking that in most cases, so I already think it’s an iffy hill to die on. but specifically…

one: she’s too good for him and deserves better

now: there are endless issues with this specific argument. in order:

brienne has been told her entire life that no one will want her *for her*, at most for her island, and that she should be glad to find anyone who’ll have her and who’ll want to have sex with her long enough to give her a kid;

she’s been told all her life that her looks are the gateway to Never Finding A Husband and being Like All Other Proper Ladies;

she’s 100% convinced that no one can want her sexually or be attracted to her;

she doesn’t even think of herself as better than anyone else, morally or not (read her POV, she puts herself down all the damned time);

she fell in love with renly because he danced with her and then okay he took her in his service but it was because he saw her usefulness and she felt like shit because she couldn’t protect him;

we all know that she’s spent her time in the riverlands killing herself over having to fulfill her oath to jaime and cat (who’s dead, ops).

now: do people really think that someone like that would buy it if you told her ‘you can’t be with that guy because you deserve better than him and you’re too good for him’? specifically, never mind that brienne doesn’t think she’s better than anyone nor too good nor recognizes in herself all those qualities even if she strives for them…. okay, so, counting that brienne is canonically into jaime (there’s no room for text interpretation, she thinks he looked like a *god* when getting out of the bath, she thinks about him while she’s bathing, she wants to cry on his shoulder [specifically feminine thing hmm], dreams that he puts a cloak on her shoulders, asks for him in a nightmare where she goes through the humiliation ronnet connington put her through and was ready to die for him rather than kill him, let’s not even argue that), that means that:

the only man who has treated her and seen her with true respect as a knight and sent her on the quest she always dreamed of

the only man who did that while not lying to her about how he didn’t like her when they met or about her looks (differently from the guys who wanted to have sex with her on a bet) and who always was sincere with her

the only man who actually trusted her and confided in her (if you think she didn’t understand the weight of his confession in the bath think about it again)

the only man who bothered to come back for her and save her life (in the bear pit) when for her entire life she’s had to do it herself

the only man who not only gave her the quest and the respect but also the proper kind of sword for that kind of quest

the only man who respected her as a fellow knight and sent her on that quest showing that he trusted her skills

the man she’s in love with to the point that she’d rather be hanged than kill him (and fine, she changes her mind to save others but if she’s not killing LS over it to save him in a true knight/damsel in distress gender role reversal I’m eating my own hat)

….. isn’t good enough for her?

like.

the man who’s pretty much filled all the boxes that could be filled when it comes to making sure brienne of tarth loves you (specifically: respecting her and her skills, not lying to her about how attractive she is or not, not belittling her as a knight, coming back for her and saving her life the one time she could not)……. isn’t good enough?

and then, sorry, who would be better? or good enough? like, brienne of tarth doesn’t want someone without a stain on their conscience. brienne of tarth wants someone who respects her and sees beyond her looks and won’t demean her, and jaime did exactly all of that while showing her that her view of the world was too black and white and teaching her to not judge people too harshly. and like, brienne doesn’t even consider that he might be into her because she’s too ugly. do people saying she deserves better than him understand that for brienne’s standard no one else can do what jaime did for her? cat did it up to a point because she took her in her service and respected her, but brienne’s not attracted to cat and cat is dead, for that matter. if someone told her that she deserves better, she’d probably answer ‘well I tried that with renly when I thought I was into the gallant lord who treated me like a proper lady and took me in his service even if he didn’t care about me so explain me who it is that I deserve’.

because if the answer is that she’s too good for anyone and she should play joan of arc and be the virgin warrior sacrificing herself for the realm, congratulations on having missed all the parts in the text suggesting that she greatly suffers for her supposed un-attractiveness and for the way people don’t see her as desirable, and she does have feelings and urges and is not the virgin warrior archetype. and tbh saying it of the undeniably ugly female character is… really… not a nice implication. wow, now undeniably ugly female characters who are good at fighting can only do that while staying chaste and pure maidens? miss me with that kinda puritan implication.

anyway: this is why I think objection number one is really damned iffy and has a lot of, uh, problematic implications.

but sure as hell not as many as option the second, as in…

two: he doesn’t deserve her because she’s too good for him

this one is even worse. because the entire premise is that if HE doesn’t deserve to be with someone as good as she is then HE has some kind of issue/damage which means that he’s not suited to be with Someone Good Inside. fair enough. so what are the possible reasons? wild guesses:

he’s done horrible things and he’s hardly a nice person: yeah, and she’s entirely aware of every single one of them. she knows he pushed bran from the window, she knows he killed aerys, she knows he was in a relationship with his sister and they had children together, and she doesn’t give a single fuck about it since in affc as stated above it was obvious that she had feelings for him;

he can have a fairly horrible personality and he used to insult her: yes, in the beginning, and they got over that part, and guess what, she took him at his worst and had no issues giving him her worst back/insulting him back, and now they respect each other. people change. she doesn’t even think about him insulting her in her POVs because it’s obvious that to her, that matters less than what he eventually pulled through;

(meaning: renly might have treated her like a lady, but never did anything for her out of everything that jaime did eventually ie saving her life/giving her a quest/treating her with respect - like, out of all the men in brienne’s life that weren’t her father or her master at arms, jaime is the one who only ever pulled through for her, no one else did)

he doesn’t have a hand: … so what, lacking a body part means you aren’t enough to be in a fully committed relationship with someone? just because you lost it? never mind that this is really ableist as hell because then every amputee in the world would not be ***deserving*** of finding love, did we all forget that brienne was there for every second of it and she was the one pushing him to live when he felt like letting himself die after he lost it? brienne of tarth couldn’t give a single fuck about jaime’s lack of hands or not and if anyone thinks that makes him lesser then sorry but it’s fairly gross;

he comes from an abusive/unhealthy relationship and wouldn’t know how to have a healthy one: (idk, I SUPPOSE it might be an objection) …. okay, so everyone who comes from an abusive/unhealthy relationship has no right to try to get over it with someone else? I mean, same as above: people who come from abusive backgrounds aren’t ruined nor broken nor unworthy of anyone else;

he’s traumatized and has to work through fifteen+ years of untreated ptsd: same as the hand. so what, now if you have ptsd and are traumatized and are trying to work through it (because spoilers, as much as a lot of people in this fandom want to ignore it jaime is actively trying to be a better person and overcome his faults and whether he manages fully or not, he’s trying) you are unworthy of being in a relationship… until you are healed? or are you ruined forever? we just don’t know.

like, sorry but especially the last three points (alone or together) seem to imply that a) having a physical disability, b) being mentally ill, c) coming from an unhealthy/abusive background mean that you are unworthy of a healthy loving relationship or even worse, that you can’t deserve to be happy because those things ruined you to the point where they made you such an unpleasant person that you would saddle anyone who was unlucky enough to be with you.

and… that’s… really, really shitty? I don’t even want to say it has unfortunate implications because it’s way worse than just unfortunate. it’s just a toxic and negative attitude all around that says nothing good and tbh denying people a chance at happiness on the basis that they went through some *damage* (mental or physical) is really a thing I wouldn’t ever want to imply. ever.

and anyway, let’s assume that all of the above made jaime such a horrible person that he wouldn’t deserve such a good person as brienne (ASSUME, because jaime has very good traits balancing his worse ones and as far as brienne’s concerned she’s had proof in spades)…..

guess what, brienne’s still very much into him and is in love with him and if she was at the point where she’d consider putting a move on anyone, she’d put it on him. and guess what, there’s enough text to go on in jaime’s chapters to assume that he’s into her as well even if book-canon wise he hasn’t fully realized it yet but most likely will very soon (and in show canon he left king’s landing when she told him that he should say fuck it to honor and do the right thing) and his asos pov chapters are choke-full of romantic imagery used very specifically. and since people should be with the people they want… well, she might be too good for him and maybe he doesn’t deserve her, but the important thing is that they would want each other regardless of who’s the better person of the two.

because, surprise surprise, if you like someone, you don’t think ‘do I deserve them’ or ‘do they deserve me’, you think ‘do they want me or not?’, and if the answer’s yes, then you should be together and who even cares about deserving? DESERVING is and should never be in the equation when it comes to consensual relationships between adults.

brienne deserves to be with a man she wants and feels comfortable with and respects her and jaime a) doesn’t deserve to be written off the ‘deserves happiness’ list because of his trauma or his abuse victim status or his disability [lacking a hand is a disability guys], b) should hopefully for him be with someone who he wants and who wants him back and knows him and won’t use him for something else, or b1) should be with whoever he wants to be. and if for brienne jaime could be that person and she could be it for him, well, then whether she DESERVES better or whether he DOESN’T deserve her shouldn’t matter a single bit because you don’t choose people based on whether they deserve better than you or not and it’s a notion that should burn with fire in general, not just when it comes to shipping.

NOW: with all of this given, people are entirely free to ship or not ship jaime and brienne - it’s a pairing, people can like it or not and I’m sure there’s a bunch of reasons why it’s distasteful to some or just not their thing - but bringing up that she deserves better than him or that he’s not good enough for her imo has really unfortunate implications and seeing that they’re two fairly common opinions around when it comes to reasons why jaime and brienne should not be a thing is a thing that always leaves me with a fairly bad aftertaste. peace.

[notawarriorjustyet]

The Two Times You Almost Kissed Ned Leeds and the One Time You Did

(I know this has been done but I’m not exactly sure who did the concept first but if you know, let me know so I can tag them)

(I’ve been wanting to write this forever omg)

Today was your first official date with Ned. Were you nervous? Yes, you were. Although, it was a group outing to prevent from feeling nervous about the date, it was still very much so nerve wracking

Sure, you've known Ned for a good amount of time. You were very close but you were never this close with him, physically of course.

Peter, and MJ went off to find drinks while Liz and Betty went for the bigger portions of the picnic. You and Ned were on chip duty.

You stood on the other end of the cart as Ned began to push you down the chip aisle. You giggled and held on tighter to the ends of the cart.

You were extremely excited about the picnic(not just because it’s a date with Ned) but mostly because you had never been to one before.

The cart suddenly came to a halt. You didn't realize your eyes were shut until you cautiously opened them up again. You look up to see Ned, slowly but confidently, lean in to kiss you. His brown hair slightly falling into his face. His gorgeous brown eyes closed.

Your heart began to beat rapidly and you felt that strange *spicy* sensation in your armpits. You sweat when you're nervous.

You close your eyes and slowly lean in. You suddenly feel his lips against your cheek and yours against his. Damn it. You moved. Naturally, Ned tried to move over to your lips but it was as if your entire body was panicking because you kept!!freaking!!!moving!!!!

You eventually pull away and give him a bright smile. You were pretty happy with the kisses you received.

"Alright, time to pick a bag." You whisper to yourself.

You attempted to step down from the other end of the cart, which turned out to be a full on leap. The cart jerked back, causing the handle to get him right in the waist. You heard him groan in pain and you wanted to just die right then and there.

"Oh my God, Ned!? Are you okay?? I'm sooooo sorry. OhmyGod" you rambled.

He softly smiled and laughed. "Yeah, I'm okay, dear. Don't worry."

Your heart jumped at the sound of him calling you dear.

.......

After the picnic, the two of you explored the park and took the time to explore the nearby pond. Ned pointed out all the turtles that you couldn't spot alone.

You and Ned eventually sat near a tree that had a couples initials carved into it. You held his hands and softly leaned into him. He then reciprocated but here you go start getting all fidgety, you moved way too soon which called for you to get his chin while he kissed your nose.

You two noticed the silly exchange and laughed it off, however before you have the shot to try again, Betty called you guys back to the group since it was time to leave.

You were disappointed but tried not to show it, so you held Ned’s hand and he softly brought it up to lips and gave it a soft kiss. You could feel how goofy you looked staring at him in awe. He gave you a very brief but very cute wink before leading you back to the group.

.......

You and Ned spent your second date at the local bookstore alone. Naturally, the two of you went into the comic book section. It was very fun seeing Ned’s face just light up at all the new editions. Behind the comics was the romance section. You saw the novel with a Fabio like male and a woman draped over him on the cover and couldn’t help but giggle. Ned soon followed.

“Hey Ned, check this out. Only her love could gentle his savage soul.” You laughed handing him the novel.

“Oof.” He chuckled and then he stopped to notice you. You continued to read the titles to yourself as well as laugh at the covers. He took notice of (Y/H/C) and how it paired nicely with your headband and how the headband complimented not only your skin tone but your eyes as well.

His confidence grew in that very moment.

“Hey Y/N,” Ned spoke while approaching you, before you had a moment to respond. He quickly leaned down and gave you a soft peck.

You sort of paused in your movements as Ned continued looking through romance titles on the shelf in front of him.

You shyly reached for his hand and pulled him towards you. You leaned towards him and softly pressed your lips up against his, having a hand to his cheek while he had one on your waist. You had been waiting for this moment for God knows how long.

Once you pulled away, you smiled brightly at each other.

Ned was your first kiss and you were his.

—————————————————

Okay, the ending was a little iffy but I hope you liked it.

I’ve been wanting to write this fic for over a year now and I always had Ned in mind but I never got around to it. This is actually based off of me and my boyfriend’s journey to our first kiss. I added little tiny things here and there to embellish it if you will lol

I hope you liked it!! 💛💛

Tag list:

@askspidergwenstacy

@underoospeter

(If you want to be removed, just let me know 💛)

[roseate7]

the ol’ two cents from me fwiw:

While I absolutely agree with this article about GMJR, the one thing GMJR got right in this rant was that team is relying almost solely at this point on the Cup-winning veterans to provide opportunities. It’s why the win over the Yotes broke the streak only in name and did nothing to bolster the flagging areas of the team. It was simply a case of making the unnecessary point that Sid (like a lot of the top guys around 30 on this team) can carry an entire game if needed.

The fact that this was needed so early in the season should have resulted in a stronger effort from the younger and newer teammates tonight against the Devils, absolutely! No denying that. Something should have clicked within the team to make them not just spooked about the playoffs but also a jolt of reality about their own place on the team. What Rutherford failed to realize in this part about his rant was that he - and Sully - haven’t faced the jolts of reality about their own respective places with this team. They haven’t spotted the mistakes they keep making which are instability and choices that lack outside confidence. That the absolute last thing they need to boost confidence and work ethic for this team is yet more drastic change. You don’t need to hold the sword over this particular team’s necks to make them want to get up and move.

I think this is the point where the dramatic move needs to be examining the positions of Rutherford and Sully. I think that’s the shot in the arm - and the galvanizing bond for the younger and newer guys - that the Pens need now. The irony of anyone calling Sid a ‘coach killer’ has always been that, the second a coach decides to kick back and rely on Sid too heavily, it’s time for said coach to heave-ho. These guys foist themselves on their own petard when they assume they’ve struck championship gold simply by being in Pittsburgh. Sully has some kind of flop version of Goldilocks motivation when it comes to goalies and his musical chairs line changes at this point are just working against the fact that he has Cup winning talent on his roster. Meanwhile Rutherford has lost the team so much confidence with his defensive choices, the last of which resulted in losing Knuckles who but for a crossbar would have kept the Pens in the playoffs last season and I cannot believe was asking for an insane amount of money. 

But they’re both making the crucial mistake with this team’s particular dynamic of not letting the team settle in and just be. Now, I am fully aware that changing it up and keeping all but the most drift compatible of lineys on their toes is hugely advantageous on most teams: having lines form into little cliques results in a lot of complacency and the coaching often can’t penetrate the routine as well as they should. Captains normally need to keep a relative subordination to coaches and management because their role is typically of older sibling who the adults sometimes put in charge. That’s the usual way of things with teams and I get why in any other case a GM would react the way Rutherford has.

Normally that kind of settled-in feeling for a successful team is what results in this kind of scenario:

“‘It’s almost like the guys come to the game and say, “Let’s just let the top guys do it. Let Sid and Geno and Phil and Letang carry us and well just get through the game and move on to the next game,” and forget about the work ethic it takes or forget about the role they play,’ Rutherford said.”

But Rutherford seems to be praising only one half of what Sid and Geno do on this team. (And this isn’t me diminishing what Tanger, Phil, Horny, Hags etc are bringing, just that each of them backs up the fact that the system they’ve been working in since 2009 has been Sid and Geno’s.) He’s missing the fact that Sid and Geno are a huge motivation and guidance for taking any new recruit and making them into the best version of themselves. 

Because of the unique nature of leadership on this team, what everyone needs is for Rutherford and Sullivan to settle the fuck down and let that leadership have stability to work.

Sid and Geno lead their team with equal use of carrot and stick respectively. Even forgetting the coaching, the Pens have guidance within the team where Sid shows them what they can be and Geno very bluntly tells them how it is (especially if it ain’t pretty). I’m not blowing smoke up their asses when I say that either one of them on their own would be sufficiently acting as captain and coach all at once when called upon, and the lucky ducky Penguins get two shots of that in one generation. It’s a perfect complimentary pairing that leaves them both room to still be the major superstars on their team in their thirties.

The trip-up with the Pens seems to have always been when the leadership outside the team proper tries to meddle with that existing leadership, or try to reinvent the wheel.

“‘Has this team been together too long? It’s something I always have to watch for,’ Rutherford said. ‘When do you have to make those changes? The players are doing everything they can to tell me now’s the time.’”

No Jim, that’s not the problem. The problem is Rutherford carrying out trades and Sully making line changes that honestly face very little support or corroboration from fans*, sports media and ultimately the standings. This isn’t the first time that both Geno and Sid have been present and healthy but the team around them is juddering away from the playoffs as the season progresses.

Also, the fact that we all know damn well the Pens could easily weather yet another major shake up in coaching and management is precisely why those shake ups needs to happen. If Sid could get ahold of a Time Turner (but also somehow sleep enough) then you could basically ditch the Pens having a head coach entirely.

I genuinely think all the younger guys and the newer guys are capable of being Crosby-Malkin’d into far better than they currently are if the atmosphere were allowed to stabilise and lines kept consistent. Look at the Banff honeymoon and what it did for the team for an entire road trip! The emotions and closeness and trust nurtured in a house that’s got two perfect parent figures has always produced playoff spots and trophies for this team. The Pens’ step-dads either work for that system or they eventually work against it.

No one will really miss them when they go.

______________________

*The bizarre amount of fan support for DeShit is proof that Muzz needs to stay in net more and keep these “you killed Flower!” people shut the hell up. He’s exactly the age when he should be playing a LOT. But while I would love for DeShit to fucking disappear from the NHL entirely (I don’t even want him bagging my groceries let alone in a pro sports league) if the Pens are currently stuck with him - thanks to Rutherford and Sully - then stop giving him Muzz’ starts and games. Keep him in reserve for when Muzz needs to be rested or is injured, but also keep Jars close because DeShit is showing some clear weaknesses that are turning iffy games into outright losses. He’s shown nothing that says he’s the reason why the Pens wins are down to him. Put his ass in his corner.

[dr-jb]

Here’s my first Bechloe fanfic. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything so I’m a bit rusty. Because of that, there’s bound to be mistakes. Be gentle with me, please? Okay, I’m done rambling. Enjoy, nerds!

The room is dark, still, as though she‘s the only one here. But she knows she isn’t. The rest of the Bellas are looking for her, hoping to take a shot at their captain. All of her senses are on high alert as she navigates the iridescent maze in front of her.

Beca wouldn’t be in this situation, or stupid getup for that matter, if it wasn’t for a certain redhead and her need for more team bonding. They literally just got back from the retreat four days ago. How much more bonding do they possibly need?!

Goddamnit, Chloe, Beca thinks to herself, taking a cautious step to her left before ducking down behind a massive pillar. Why laser tag?

The bonding exercise had started out relatively well and, actually, kinda fun. Something that surprised the short brunette.

It’s also something that didn’t last very long.

What was once a 5 vs. 5 battle is now the Bellas vs. Beca. Which is why she now finds herself scared shitless in a corner with bulky laser tag gear on and a whole lotta Bellas closing in on her.

A creak to her right her forces her to spin around, gun raised, eyes frantically searching for their target. But there’s nothing there. More importantly, there’s no one. She takes a steadying breath, attempting to calm her pounding heart.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She should’ve never agreed to this. But when Chloe has an idea, there’s no stopping her. Especially when she gives Beca the big ‘ol puppy eyes with those baby blues of hers.

She could never say no to Chloe.

Her eyes dart to her left then to her right and back again, watching for any signs of the Bellas. Still nothing. Not a peep.

How are they able to be fucking ghosts now, but they’re loud as all hell at 2 in the morning?! She thinks.

Footsteps and small giggle just to her left grab Beca’s attention. She’d know who that was anywhere.

Chloe.

Her lips curve upwards in a mischievous smirk. The fear she felt just a few seconds ago is gone, vanishing in an instant, and in its place is pure hunger. With a new surge of confidence, Beca leaves the comfort of her hiding spot and steps out into the open. A flash of neon red immediately catches her eye. So she follows it.

The smile never leaves her face as she inches closer and closer to her co-captain. As soon as Beca is in reach of Chloe, she does what any normal person would do during a game of laser tag... she pounces.

“Gotcha!”

Before Chloe can let out a squeal of surprise, she feels the weight of Beca at her back and a hand flies to her mouth, silencing her. Beca flips the redhead around so she faces her, then gently backs Chloe into a small opening, hand still on her mouth.

“Thought you could sneak up on me, huh? Well, give me your best shot, Beale,” Beca says in a low, intimidating voice, face mere inches from Chloe’s. She drops her hand from Chloe’s mouth to her upper arm, and waits for a response.

“Becs, it wasn’t me,” Chloe whispers. “Amy corralled the girls together and pitted them all against us. I’ve been trying to find you.”

“Wait. Are you — You mean I’ve been hiding like a coward this entire time when we could’ve been cowards together?”

Chloe scrunches her face in guilt. “Yeah... Sorry.”

“I’ve been scared out of mind, Chlo! We need to make a plan. Like now.” Chloe nods in agreement. “But what? At this point we’re probably surrounded.”

Beca grumbles a quick “shit” while glancing behind her to make sure they’re still alone. Beca turns back to Chloe, but what sight awaits her makes her stomach drop. Uh oh. 

“What are you...?”

A bright red flash and a high-pitched sound come from Beca’s vest. She releases Chloe, mouth open, eyes wide with betrayal.

“You just shot me,” she gasps, looking down at her blinking vest before turning her gaze back up. “I-I don’t... um, what just happened?”

“You just got played!” Chloe cheers, arms raised in the air in victory.

Beca simply stares at the woman before her. “I — wh-what...l,” she stutters, searching for the right words but not finding any.

The smug, yet adorable, redhead before her is beaming. “Consider this payback.“

“Payback?! For what? What’d I’d do?”

With a shit-eating grin on her lips, Chloe takes a few steps forward so she’s now toe-to-toe with the brunette. She doesn’t speak right away, letting the silence wash over them as she sees the realization hit in Beca’s eyes when she figures it out. And it only makes Chloe smile that much more.

“You set all of this up as a way to get back at me for not telling you about the internship? Are you kidding me?!” Beca’s starting to get upset, and a bit pissed off if she’s being honest. “Dude, we literally talked about this less than a week ago. I thought things were cool?”

Chloe nods. “Oh, they are. I just wanted to give you a little taste of your own medicine.”

Beca rolls her eyes and doesn’t say anything as she begins to pace back and forth.

“Are you mad at me?” Chloe asks after what felt like minutes of grueling silence, when, in reality, it had only been like 10 seconds.

When Beca still doesn’t respond, Chloe shortens the distance between the two of them once again and tilts her head to the side to get the pouting woman to look at her.

“Hey,” the redhead says in a soft voice. “Look, I’m sorry I made you feel bad about the internship, and for putting you through all of this laser tag-team bonding stuff. I know it’s not your thing, and I’m sorry.” Chloe takes a deep breath, “Can... can we just call it even?” More silence greets her. “Please? Come on, don’t make me beg.”

When Beca’s blue eyes meet Chloe’s, she rewarded with a pretty adorable sight — Chloe’s got her bottom lip sticking out, eyes wide, in her best pouty face. It makes Beca laugh.

“There it is. There’s that beautiful smile,” Chloe beams, clasping their hands with a single squeeze. “Forgive me?”

Beca nods with a sigh. “Only if you forgive me.”

“Deal!” She then brings her friend into a hug. 

Beca smiles into the other woman’s shoulder, not ready to let go just yet. “And hey, thank you for this. It was ridiculous and I will never do it again. But ... thanks. I needed it more than I thought.”

The two pull apart, hands clasped together.

“Great way to relieve stress, huh?”Chloe asks, giving Beca’s hands a squeeze.

“It, uh, definitely helped me forget about the damn internship and worlds. But no. How was any of this not stressful? I’ve been running for my life for the last, oh — 50 minutes, while you and Amy and everybody hunted me down like a friggin’ dog.”

Chloe merely laughs at her friend’s dramatics. “Okay, A) we’ve only been playing for 15 minutes, you big baby. B) the girls all left about 10 minutes ago, so it’s just been the two of us in here. And C) just admit you had fun!”

She gives Beca a poke in the side for good measure. Then continues to do so until Beca caves.

“Okay, okay. If I admit it, what do I get in return?”

It’s meant to be playful and lighthearted, but oh, how the mood quickly shifts.

Chloe smirks, all smug and serious, and it makes Beca immediately regret asking the question. Her heart begins beating faster and louder in her chest as the distance becomes basically non-existent between the two of them.

The air is thick, making it harder for Beca to breathe. She audibly gulps, watching with wide eyes as Chloe takes agonizing step by step until they’re chest-to-chest. 

The bulky laser tag gear clanks at the contact, but neither woman is paying any attention to that. 

No. Their sole focus is on each other, and more specifically, on each other’s mouths.

Chloe slowly, oh so slowly, brings her face right up to Beca’s, and smirks inwardly as she feels the younger woman tense up. Her mouth is now at Beca’s ear, and the hot air from her breath sends tingles down her spine.

Finally, finally, Chloe talks.

“Oh, Mitchell. I’m not sure you’d be able to handle it if you tried.” Well, fuck, Beca thinks. As soon as Chloe pulls back, Beca’s hands fly up and hold her still. “Wait,” she breathes.

Now it’s Chloe’s turn to freeze.

“Try me,” Beca says, doing her best to keep her voice as level as possible.

It’s all the invitation Chloe needs, and soon, their mouths are pressed together, moving and dancing as they kiss for the first time.

Beca kisses Chloe back with all of the want and lust that’s coursing through her veins. Her hands grip the other woman’s hips in a vice lock, tugging her closer – like that was even possible.

They eventually pull apart, both breathless as they open their eyes and stare at one another in amazement.

Holy shit.

Beca feels her mouth curving upward in a smile that matches Chloe’s. It’s takes her a moment to get her heart rate under control, but then she says, “Okay, I’ll admit that that was fun... I’m still a little iffy on the whole laser tag part though.”

Her comment makes Chloe laugh. “You’re impossible,” she chuckles.

Beca, feeling bold, yanks Chloe back to her and whispers in her ear, “Am I? Why don’t you prove me wrong then, Beale?”

Beca plants a brief kiss on her lips then walks away, leaving a flustered Chloe behind. Only, she doesn’t get very far because her vest suddenly flashes, signaling she’s been shot... again.

Son of a–

Turning in a whirlwind, she finds that Chloe is no longer there. “It’s so on! You’re gonna regret that, Chlo!”

“I highly doubt that!” She hears somewhere in the maze, only to be followed by, “You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna come find me?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do so much more than that,” she calls back, tightly gripping the plastic gun as she sets off in search of the feisty, hot redhead. 

Maybe laser tag wasn’t so bad after all...

Annnd there you have it, folks. Like I said before, this was the first time I’ve written a fic in a very long time -- I’m talking years here -- so go easy on me.

Much love, DR-JB

[allmyluckwentintofacebookpoker]

Dear Future Me

Heres another update for the 10th of September, 2018. First Year, Second Semester of Uni.

I do these because I’d love to have a clear and vivid account of exactly everything thats been going on in my life, and god forbid, in case I forget the time where I’m at right now.

So I currently have a job, I make good money and I work on my days off.

I’ve been offered a job making $34.50p/h every Sunday, that’d be nice, so now I’m waiting for some openings.

University is okay, I had an experience a week or two ago now where I did my first systematic approach to a patient, and I spoke to them, communicated well, spoke well with my partner, and did a very thorough and right systematic approach, I’ve got some kind of genetic thing where I don’t need to study this one unit because I just absorb all of the information, I’m so interested, honest to god. The other units though, god damn, I need to stop going to the cafe and start going to the library. I’ve been becoming more okay with the idea of interstate or international transfer, and I said to my mate recently that I might actually prefer going somewhere interesting to do some work, doctors without borders, backpacker medics, but god knows I don’t have the training for that, or the confidence, just yet anyway.

About to get a car, that’s an iffy one, it’s an oldie and its price certainly reflects that, but it’s nice, just a little Honda Civic, not exactly a chick magnet but hey haha, I think it would help me get to a chick, and work, and uni, but they’re not as fun, and as far as I’m concerned a car is a luxury item, and is for fun.

I originally had plans to purchase this car a few days ago but the owner revealed a flaw and is getting it fixed as I write this, but a few days ago when I was excited to get it, I remember leaving the house, getting to work, and just thinking about how good of a morning I had and how happy it made me with such a big and exciting thing happening. I’ve always said it’s important to have goals, but I always interpreted that statement to mean.. a distant holiday to work towards, but being hours from getting a car, I felt like a kid on the eve of Christmas, and I haven’t felt that strange euphoric feeling in maannny years.

And the last thing, I think that would be fun for future me to think about again.

The other day I was driving around with a particularly infamous friend, and another aswell, we were just driving around these sideroads connecting some farms, distant and rural from the city, it was dusk, and we just opened up all the windows, drove at some 30km/h, and sat on the window, or out of the sunroof, and just seeing that sun set, wind in our face, music blasting and being absolute dorks enjoying something as simple as driving a car while being out of it, that was great fun. We got back in the car and started driving.

And then we hit 150km/h going up a hill and got airtime, genuine airtime, maybe 3 seconds, but when the car was up like that, we all went silent just for a second, even the music seemed to have stopped, and everrythinng slowed down, that adrenaline kicked in, it was the kind of scenario where if we landed wrong we were looking at the car flipping a few times, but we touched down, we yelled with excitement, enthusiasm, I had a big smile on my face, my mate (the driver) and I tried to fistbump and couldn’t get the accuracy of it so, with a lot of energy we just flailed our hands around in excitement before he jumped out of the car, it was pretty funny, it was.. an experience. I feel like I know that feeling of the adrenaline kicking right as you realize you’re in for a disaster, almost like your heart sinking, like driving a car off of a cliff and theres the moment where your brain realizes there’s no turning back. It was exciting, exhilarating, of course I said lets do that again (which probably would have killed us the second time), and of course he said absolutely NOT, but it was an experience, and I’m glad I’ve had that, what I’m not glad about is how I’m not going to have a high like that again for a lonnng time.

I wasn’t afraid for even a second, I loved it, amazing.

I think that’s my lifeeee, nice and immature, for now, romance is still whack. I feel like I’ve lost a particular optimism I had when it came to dating, and when it came to relationships in general, I’m thinking that it’s still coming back to me, I hope.

Good song, also spent 2 hours in the library the other day waiting for a friend and was too bored to study, so I ended up just going through spotify the whooolle time, looked back through artists I already had a few songs for, discovered enough songs to do me over for the next few weeks, that’s pretty great too.

[skittymon]

So after some encouragement from twitter, I’ve decided to write down my feelings about the Yusaku/Revolver rivalry, since their second duel is coming up, and I don’t have the highest exceptions in it, except that were bound to learn more about the Lost Incident, and Ignis.

Also to keep it fair I’ll be analyzing the past rivals only up to their second duel, with the exception of GX. That being said let’s dive in.

I’ll be basing rivals and their rivalries based off three points:

1. Their motivation to win.

2. Their effect on the protagonist, or vise versa.

3. Their threat as a rival.

Off the bat Revolver does hold for point three: he’s the leader of a terrorist group, however as a rival Revolver lost most of his treat, at least to me, after losing to Yusaku. Of course other rivals have as well, but I respect them more as a rival and character than Revolver. Let’s go over previous rivals.

To get the easy ones out of the way: Reiji and Kaito. 

While both of their first duels against their protagonists ended inclusive, it’s very clear Reiji and Kaito would have both won their duel. Which is amazing considering protagonists is ygo are usually unbeatable. So their threat as a rival stands.

Not only that, their motivation which we learn well before their second duel against the protagonists is phenomenal: Reiji’s discover his father started an interdimensional war and wants to stop it, he’s a rival to Yuya to push him further to evolve him and his dueling so Yuya can become a powerful Lancer. Kaito wants to save his little brother who is suffering and gets off on pain now. He antagonizes Yuma and Astral because they hold the number cards that can save Haruto.

Finally, their effect on the protagonists. After Yuma and Astral’s duel the two are afraid, of losing and disappearing and I’m pretty sure after that Yuma goes to the Duel Temple, I may be mistaken. Yuya, learning other people can use Pendulum Summoning, shuts down once again and it takes a duel with Shuzo to pull out of it.

So both Kaito and Reiji are phenomenal rivals, the best if I might say. 

And while both did win their duel against Yuma and Yuya the second time, those duels happen at later points (ep 72 (i think) and ep 51 of Zxl and A5 respectively) which is later than the presumably ep 34-36 range that the second duel of Yusaku and Revolver will take place, so these points were ignored will giving Kaito and Reiji their checks.

Next, Jack, since his first (on screen) duel with Yusei ended inclusive as well. However, according to Jack, Yusei would have won their duel had it continued. 

So instead of effecting Yusei, the inclusive duel effects Jack and causes him to struggle and wonder if he is worthy of being King. So their rivalry passes the second check.

Now motivation, Jack’s motivation prior to their first is to find a better life than the shitty one he had in the satellite. He achieves this goal and vows to never look back. But when Yusei, his past, comes after him he strives to beat to prove that he’s better than Yusei, the satellite, that he’s better than garbage. So point one checks.

Point three for all the rivals from now one is gonna be iffy because they lose against the protagonist, and that to me, makes them not a threat. But for Jack, he didn’t technically lose, and as the final boss for the fortune cup and seeing his resolve to beat Yusei makes it hard to willingly want him to lose.

Next we have the interesting case of Manjoume, who sadly has never beaten Judai. Revolver has a good chance of being on this boat too considering than chances of Yusaku losing the duel with everything at stake is slim to none. But what makes Manjoume such a good rival in my book?

Let’s take a look at point two first: effect on protagonist or vise versa. Honestly, to me, Manjoume doesn’t make a difference on Judai, the only ones to do so are Ryou and Edo, but ho boy does Judai make an impact on him.

After losing his credibility from being defeated by a Osiris Red, Manjoume loses practically everything, favor from his teachers, his ‘friends’ and I’m pretty its at this point he loses respect from his brothers. So what does he do? He builds himself back up.

That episode where Manjoume is outside South Academy, looking for cards and climbing to the top has to be my favorite in season 1. Hell Judai was my favorite protag before Yuya came along and damn did I want him to lose so Manjoume’s efforts could pay off - point one checks out.

A well written ‘loser’ who may have never beaten his rival but damn do I want him to. 2/3 points to him, I understand why people would claim Ryou or Edo are Judai’s true rivals.

Finally we have Kaiba and Shark the two who lost their first duel against their rival, but won the rematch.

Now, only Shark actually won out of skill (granted season ones rules are bullshit), but I’m 80% sure Yuma was over confident in that match, I don’t remember. But lets look at the lead up to those duels since that’s where we are in Vr.

I’m gonna be honest and say I hated Kaiba for the longest time. He’s an asshole and at like six years old destroying someones property is the worst thing someone can do. But once Mokuba was introduced? I felt bad for the guy. HELL, he had to see Mokuba’s unmoving body - HIS ONLY FAMILY THAT LIKES AND HE GIVES A FLYING FUCK ABOUT. 

Sadly I have to leave out the AMAZING second duel of their and what Kaiba does to be fair but I will say that point two checks out with Yugi after that duel.

But what about point three? Kaiba lost to Yugi before. HOWEVER, that won was practically bs as Yugi had managed to summon the one monster that legally causes automatic win, which was now lost. That win had nothing to do with either of their skills, just luck and what cards they happen to have. Without Exodia, Kaiba has a solid chance to defeat Yugi and with the title of World Champion (at least in the dub) Kaiba is very much a real threat. 2/3 points.

Now Shark. Shark is interesting in the fact he doesn’t have a point one at this moment in zxl, thats his entire arc. He doesn’t know what to do with himself so he turns to the thug life. This downward spiral started because he lost to Yuma. And Yuma was able to his journey to becoming a better duelist because of his first duel with Shark. Both influence each other greatly - just in opposite ways. Point two stays.

Now point three is very meh because with Astral’s help, Yuma can win probably easily but at this time in zxl Yuma and Astral relationship is...rocky with Yuma blatantly refusing Astral’s help. But seeing how Shark is even worse off than Yuma his threat as a rival doesn’t stick that well. 

1/3 points however that’s intended in the story and Shark turns this around after their second duel.

Now how does Revolver stack up against the previous rivals? 

I already stated he doesn’t have a threat as a rival and I mean it. ‘He has a powerful new card!’ Yea okay but....look what happens if Yusaku loses:

-Ema stays dead forever

-A bunch of other people will die

-Yusaku would have failed to protect the LINK VRAINS thus breaking his promise to that little boy and god forbid if a protag can’t keep a promise

-No more speed duels which is the series gimmick

-The actual end of the digital age thus no more duel besides table duels and no will watch episode of that

so I hardly doubt Yusaku will lose with all that’s at stake. At most Yusaku wins and Revolver somehow manages to take Ignis from his somehow.

So...no threat. In verse yes, but people watching? lmao hell no.

Point two, effects on the protagonist or vise versa.

....

I got nothing.

Besides getting information from one another (Yusaku learning more about the Lost Incident and Revolver discovering his one of the six kids) from their first duel to know they haven’t effected each other.

Yusaku didn’t stop the KoH, in fact more hooligans apparently joined based on the Another Incidents. No one in the KoH questioned Revolver’s authority despite losing to the guy who causing them the most problems. 

The only thing that might pass is that Yusaku and Ignis’ relationship deepened but consider there’s a good chance Ignis is going to betray him I guess not. Oh and Firewall Dragon showed up, yea (not counting that as influencing since Yusaku could have potentially grab Firewall from any data storm).

So no point two.

Finally point one, what is Revolver’s reason for wanting to beat Yusaku?

Well that’s easy, he wants Ignis!

Why?

Because he’ll destroy the world as we know it!

How?

Uhhhh...

It is really worth putting society back to an era without technology?

Maybe...?

Yes, most likely we’ll learn the answers during the duel but that why I brought ulp the previous rivals. At this point, before any of the other rivals second duel against the protag we have learned:

Kaiba is dueling to save his little brother who’s soul was taken and has seen his lifeless body

Manjoume is dueling to get his respect back after we have seen him fall to the pits and valiantly brought himself back up

Jack is dueling to prove he is King, it’s his destiny, and that he’s more than satellite trash and he won’t go back there.

Shark doesn’t have purpose and Yuma has to throw himself out there to save Shark from ruining his own life.

Kaito is dueling to save his little brother who screams in terror and helps destroy an entire world.

Reiji is dueling to stop his father’s plan and to help bring peace back to the dimensions.

So while Revolver’s motives are noble, there’s not a lot of backbone to them. Does he feel guilty that his father’s project caused this? I know those professor people Faust and Ava did but does he? 

I feel like I don’t know Revolver at all. I know about him, but I don’t know any of his emotions and that just makes him feel like a level boss for Yusaku to defeat, not his rival for the show.

So dude, for me of course, gets a soft 1/3.

So year here you go. I hope after this hyped up duel I’ll learn to like Revolver more cause haha he’s kinda disappointing to me atm.

[kuletxcore]

Spiritdimension Neptunia Frontier 1.5: The Road to Lastation

Linda smirked in a smug fashion at her opponent. Just because the girl had the spirit of a Goddess didn't make her one. Alex could almost feel the contempt radiating off of the gray-skinned woman. The feeling made her and the Spirit synchronize in shared anger. With a cry of challenge, Alex shot towards the slender woman with her sword at the ready. Linda sprinted forward at the same moment with her bat held high without losing that damned smirk. The weapons clashed together with such force that the combatants rebounded. Alex slashed at Linda with her sword. The older girl deflected the strike and returned with a swing for her head. Their weapons wove in a pattern of parry and attack. A bead of sweat dripped down the young Goddess' temple. Who used a baseball bat like that? Her enemy seemed to find the younger girl's discomfiture amusing. “Heh, Looks like that spirit of yours gave you more than the goddess’ pretty face!” Linda taunted. Alex blushed a little, though the distraction gave Linda the chance to sweep Alex on to her back. IF ran to help Alex, but was then blindsided by Warechu. She wrestled the mouse off herself and threw it over to Compa. “Wha— Miss Compa!?” Warechu started blushing as Compa hugged him to her chest. “Mr. Mousey, I thought you were a good boy now.” Compa chided. Linda tried to stab down at Alex, but Alex then rolled out of the way. She then pointed her gunblade at Linda. “Don’t you remember, Miss Underling?” Alex said, “It’s also a gun.” Alex shot Linda with a stun blast. Linda stumbled back dropping her weapon, allowing Alex to get back up. “Mirage Dance,” Alex muttered, as she unleashed a flurry of blows. Linda stepped back at the attack, but then launched a surprise dropkick to Alex’s gut. The blow loosened Alex’s sword from her grip. Linda smirked as she got into a stance, “What? Done already?” She then rushed Alex and threw a punch. Alex turned her head to dodge and weakly tried to counter. Linda’s punch missed, but a lucky strike connected with the girl’s cheek, causing her to spiral to the ground, dazed. “It’s kind of cool that she learned to fight unarmed, but a goddess is still a goddess, chu,” Warechu stated. “So, what, you’re just going to let us take you in?” IF asked the mouse. “Hey, I’m with Miss Compa, chu, and I really don’t wanna mess with the Goddess right now.”

IF rolled her eyes and had the other girls drag Linda back to the Basilicom. Linda woke up wearing handcuffs and sitting on a chair. Not that unfamiliar of a situation, but not one she was fond of. Another sight she was used to was IF sitting across from her. "Who are you working for?" She asked, in full interrogator mode. "Oh geez going for the throat this early, huh? Well, It just so happens that I like existing, so tough luck there," Linda said flippantly. "Who are you working for!?" IF repeated. Linda sighed, “Look, I’m not going to give you any names. But…. The Old Lady pretty much gave us to her and since then, we’ve been scared shitless. That blue-haired weirdo keeps talking about Despair, Existence, and Willing things. Usually, I can deal with that, but then her eyes… There’s something wrong, something… Broken” Histoire gasped somewhat, but she shook it off. There was no way. She didn’t have Gold Third energy to preserve her spirit. "You mentioned something about the Lastation Spirit." IF said, missing Histoire’s little back and forth with herself. “Yeah, we’re looking for those spirits too. I don’t know why, don’t bother asking me. We’ve gotten certain ideas where they are, but we haven’t found them yet. Sort of surprised that one of those four dorks found one,” Linda glanced at the four earth girls who were currently eating some lunch Compa made for them. “That was… surprisingly honest…” IF gawked. She then proceeded to uncuff Linda due to her sudden cooperation and straightforwardness. "Eh, I got knocked out fair and square,” Linda said with a shrug. She then reached in her pocket, “Here's something I picked up from our Lastation incursion. They’re some strange objects that emit Share Energy. However, one of them lost their glimmer when we exposed it to the Anti-Share Crystals.” Linda produced a couple of black ribbons tied around some hair pins and tossed them to IF. “No way…” IF gaped. Histoire floated over to inspect the hair pins more closely. “These are definitely Uni’s hair pins,” Histoire appraised. She then took them and flew over to the console, catching the attention of the earth girls. Histoire set them onto a stage connected to the Console. A scan had indicated that there was similar Share Energy signatures in Lastation, around some shooting ranges. Histoire smiled slightly at that. “Oh, those are cute hair pins,” Lara said from behind Histoire. “They used to belong to the Lastation Candidate.” Histoire informed. Lara picked one of the hairpins up, “Um, May I?” Histoire nodded and Lara tied it to her ponytail. The pin then glimmered in her hair, and for a split second, Histoire could have sworn that she saw Uni standing next to the girl from earth. Histoire shook her head to regain her composure, “I think we’ve found the location of Uni’s spirit in Lastation” “I guess that’s where we’re going next, huh?” Maya said as the rest of the group walked up to the the console. "Alright, gang! We're going to Lastation!" Alex cheered.

“You’re not coming with us?” Alex cried. IF scratched the back of her head, while Compa just smiled. “Sorry, Lex, but we can’t just leave Planeptune behind after we just took it back. There’s a lot of rebuilding we have to do.” “Aww… Iffy, do you not think I’m Neptune enough to protect Planeptune?” The older Neptune teased as she sauntered up to the group. “Miss Neptune?” Alex questioned.... Neptune smiled, “I just thought I’d get a cameo in before you girls head off. There’s not going to be a Nep in the next few arcs, ya know.” Something in Alex’s brain short circuited. “Anyway, We can protect Planeptune by ourselves, Iffy.” “But…” “Come on! You and Compa are like a dream team. These girls are going to be so lost without you.” “Yeah! You’ve been with us for so many adventures. We wouldn’t have defeated the Deity of Sin the first time without you guys. You're like family.” Alex interjected with a reminiscent look on her face. For a split second, IF could swear that she saw Nepgear stand beside Alex. “F-fine,” IF conceded, “I guess you guys are really lost without me, huh, Gear?” Alex blushed. IF walked past the group. Her arms crossed, and her lips turned up in a confident smirk. Histoire floated to them, “I’ve managed to contact Kei, she will be waiting for you all in Lastation.” “Compa and I are gonna tag along, is that alright?” Histoire nodded, “Why yes, of course. The Champions are our last hope, Protecting them until they obtain their spirits is the top priority.” IF nodded, “Alright, let’s go, Lastation’s waiting!”

== Nepstation ==

Alex: Nepstation! Filling in for Miss Neptune is me, Alexandra Rose! Our guests today are IF and Compa.Compa: Wait, why are you hosting, Lexi?Alex: Miss Neptune said something about taking on the responsibility of being the main character.IF: Probably meaning she didn’t want to do it this time.Alex: By the way, whatever happened to Warechu?IF: I handed him off to Compa. *Looks to Compa* What did you do with him?Compa: Don’t worry, I took care of Mr. Mousey.Alex and IF: …IF: Um… Next time, we enter Lastation and meet up with the resistance there! Next time: “The Whole World, In Your Hands!”Alex: Miss Compa is surprisingly scary…

[zaraegis]

BBC Sherlock| Shoulder Angels| T

Synopsis:It would figure that Sherlock Holmes’ shoulder angel carried a gun and his shoulder devil didn’t wear his wings as they clashed with his Westwood suits.

The day Sherlock Holmes was born, Shoulder Entities agencies in both Heaven and Hell had been completely overturned in panic. Mere seconds after Sherlock had cried out his first breath, a note on his file showed up in heaven.

Jim Moriarty was his shoulder devil.

The Director was said to have slammed his head down on the considerably big file of the youngest Holmes. It was a stack of blank papers and documents about five inches long. Except for his Birth Certificate, they were all blank; as many papers would be filled along the course of his human life. It later would baffle many angels and demons that noticed, oddly enough a death certificate would be in the middle of the file with no explanation.

This was all pretty routine, a human was born, and they would either have volunteers already lined up for a soul as soon as they were conceived, or they would be assigned one their first day on earth.

No one wanted to work with Jim Moriarty, and several angels who were considered threatened to hand in their resignation.

Even Irene had declined because of her first dibs on a new soul that would desperately need her. And she wasn’t sure that she could keep both her charge and herself alive with Moriarty there.

No one blamed her.

The last angel to partner with Jim was still in therapy. He’d been given permission to handle pens just last decade.

“Oh! Thank goodness you’re here!”

John smiled awkwardly at that and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the frazzled looking secretary. She tried to make herself seem less desperate and forced herself to not clutch at his lapels. During this the man he came to see came out of a nearby office.

“John! Good to see you, and just the angel I was looking for.” Mike Stamford smiled and exchanged looks with the secretary who slumped back in her chair and gave off the relieved of someone whose washed their hands of a very messy problem.

John was beginning to question his decision to meet his old friend again. Especially suspicious that he asked him to meet in the Reassignment office in what amounted to neutral territory.

“There was a bit of an uproar in Up There and Down Here, have you heard?”

John was tempted to ask if gossip was all Mike called him out for but refrained. There was an air of someone leading to something and to humor them.

“I noticed something was up, but I never got too many details. Something about a human…?”

“Yep,” Mike beamed,“There’s this one human born, and his future is so ambivalent that there’s a perfect 50/50 chance to go either way. Not to mention they feel this one’s gonna send waves out in the human world. Heard his file was 5 inches thick too.”

John whistled, his own file was 3 inches thick, and he was a good bit older than even Mike, who remembered the old days when Lucifer was still sporting a pair of pearly white wings.

Out on a tangent Mike asked about his latest charge. John grimaced and rubbed at his shoulder, feeling an answering twinge in his leg.

“He’s getting settled pretty well Up There, went to have a drink with him once or twice this past month.”

Mike seemed to realize he’d hit a still sore spot because all he said was a “That’s good news at least.” before nodding at his shoulder and wing.

“Still bothering you then? That wound.”

“Yep. You’d think after a century or so it would begin to heal properly but no—"He cut himself off, the last word spitted out with old bitterness, hand shaking where once he would have been steadier than a rock. He took a calming breath and was suddenly so glad that he wasn’t conversing with someone from home. They would have frowned at his showing of negative emotions and checked that his wings were still feathery and glowing with angelic power.

Demons, on the other hand didn’t put up too much fuss when confronted with an angel getting snippy, as long as any and all holy weapons were kept sheathed. Mike held true and didn’t remark or seem to notice anything out of character, at least outwardly.

On his bad days, John sometimes wondered what it said about him that he felt more at ease conversing with demons that most other angels.

Especially since most of his demonic acquaintances were those he had fought fiercely during the Great War against. And hadn’t killed.

Mike brought him back from his reverie, whip-like tail waving through the air in a decidedly languid fashion. "So, do you have another charge for Guardianship?”

Another twinge, but this one was almost easily ignored. “Not really, I don’t think I can go through that so soon,” His wings settled in a tight manner close to him. Bill Murray was the first human under his new job as a Guardian Angel, after a couple of years after being honorably discharged from Warrior Angel status by a lucky shot through his shoulder and wing both during a skirmish between demons that the Angelic Forces decided to crash. His hands weren’t steady anymore, and his healing was iffy.

He could see why he was discharged, an angel who couldn’t confidently heal others or aim correctly wasn’t any use in a war. He was more a liability.

It didn’t stop the feelings of uselessness.

So as soon as the full body spasms stopped completely and his healer confirmed that the malicious energy in his wound had finally been purged away, he had registered himself for Guardianship. And had been given Bill Murray, a chance to actually see the human world for the first time, and his sense of duty back.

In protecting little Billy from dangers, scrapes and trying to do life damage control; John lost his limp, and his hand was ever steady, his Angelic Will never faltering. He had never felt so alive and useful and such a deep abiding Love for a human. Ever since he had glimpsed his soul as the first thing to see coming down to earth, he had been given the Guardian Angel’s defining characteristic to so purely love their human charges.

He had taken years to study human medicine and had endeared himself to a strange succubus who went by different monikers every year or so on one of his trips to Hell, sword at ready, to visit Mike and ask a favor for human healing practice. Mike had actually gone up to the human world and earned a degree in medicine, and so had been a great help.

Anthea, however, had merely tagged along and steered him clear of less tolerant demons with an easy air. She never failed to show up every time he came before Hell’s gate. It was strange, but John didn’t mind, it was nice to have someone to chat with and eventually he noticed the burning curiosity of the human world that she had.

It took some serious sneaking around and some indecent flirting with a demon who guarded a little used gate, but he eventually had permission to bring Anthea (who was now called Athena, but John had been introduced to her as Anthea and so Anthea she had stayed to him) with him.

They attended Bill’s college courses, with John sneaking glances at another student’s medical text, and with Anthea taking everything in with the wide curious eyes that endeared her to him. He guided her through his knowledge of the human world that he had painstakingly learned in his years of Guardianship.

Last he had seen her was when she had shown up at Heaven’s gate, almost started an altercation with a guard and had hugged him tightly, cracking his ribs as he tried to explain that,no, she wasn’t here to cause trouble and yes, they were friends.

Anthea had applied for a human of her own to tempt as a shoulder devil. He had patted her shoulders proudly and felt the disbelieving stares of other angels as he exclaimed that he knew she would do a damned good job.

Hanging around with Bill and his army mates had done wonders for his swearing capacities.

She had only sent missives for the past years, and John amused her and her charge by sending scrolls of gold and silver in a show of pompous angelic grace use.

And then Bill had gone to Afghanistan. Most of the other Guardian Angels in his squad were relatively new to this human war, he ran himself ragged and stopped distinguishing his charge and theirs. Every human was their charge, and sometimes another angel covered for him while he recharged his “batteries” impatiently in Heaven as keeping bullets off their mark took more energy out of his Presence than merely keeping his form on Earth would.

It worked out great, for the most part, after the new angels began to fall in line like true warriors. And then everything was gone, in a single skirmish, most of their human charges were dead and their Guardians subsequently whisked off to Heaven. Bill had seen him, and closed his eyes and not opened them again. He flew back to Heaven with tears in his eyes and Bill’s soul cradled protectively in his hands.

No. He didn’t think he could do that again.

A paper was thrust in his face, and he momentarily went cross-eyed trying to focus out the words at the top.

Oh no. No, no, no, nope. No way. He slapped it back down.

“C'mon John!” Mike, that old tempter, wheedled,” No other angel is stepping up to plate because of Jim; would you really leave someone to a Moriarty’s mercy?” That gave him pause, he frowned at Mike.

“Moriarty?”

“The grandson of his, yeah. Goes by Jim. Got his last charges sent here early. Put other angels in intensive therapy.” Mike grinned the smuggest grin not seen since a snake got Eve to eat an apple.

John’s face didn’t move but his hand slowly steadied, his eyes scanned the waiting room they’d been sitting in. “Get real Mike. Look at me.” Spreading his arms, his left lower as to not irritate his wound. His sword clanged lightly from his hip, his ever present armor gleamed almost ominously in the cool lighting.“Who’d want me for a conscience?”

He was a Warrior first and foremost, and a small part of him wanted to sign up if only to see how he fared pitted against the latest Moriarty. A human didn’t need that kind of violence residing in the angel giving out good advice.

“I got word from a contact of mine.” No names were mentioned of course, Mike was nothing if not discreet, “There’s a death certificate smack dab in the middle of his file.” It would be a terribly powerful clairvoyant to see the words in the blank page of a human’s life.

John’s sword gave a gentle humming sound, and John cursed internally as Mike took out a pen and waved it in his face.

“No matter what you say about getting old,” John grumbled as he jotted down his info, “You still manage the temptations of man pretty well from where I’m standing.”

Mike grinned even wider the snakey bastard.

They got a confirmation not ten seconds after it was sent. Along with a sad little sticky with the words, “BLESS YOU.” in thick, underlined block letters.

John didn’t think it was very angelic, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt in flipping Mike off before unfurling his wings and taking off.

His laughter followed him all the way.

[boozedancing]

G-LO: Well, you did it again! A red-eye flight from LAX to JFK on Tuesday evening, an afternoon of eating and drinking in Midtown Manhattan on Wednesday afternoon followed by a 4 hour Kosher BBQ and whisky event in Battery Park at a little thing called Kiddushfest – World of Whisky, Brews, and Que, post-event whisky and cocktails at The Dead Rabbit, a MASSIVE slice of artichoke pizza in the West Village at 1AM, 2.5 hours of sleep, and then a 9AM flight from JFK to LAX on Thursday morning. What’s your secret???

AK: We can sleep when we’re dead. Or at work. The thrill of the whisky festival chase gets the adrenaline flowing. So we chase. And chase. And chase. Oh, and the thought of seeing you was a huge thrill. Zzzzzzzz…

G-LO: WAKE UP! No sleeping on the job!

AK: I’m awake now! Jeez! That was my good ear you were yelling into.

G-LO: And yes yes, whisky festivals always get the blood pumping. Though as we’ve said before, it’s less about the actual whisky, and more about the opportunity to see friends. Whisky is THE excuse for all of us to get together. It’s a catalyst for chrissakes!

AK: Oh, indeed, we’re surely at the point these days in our whisky journey to admittedly care more about the people we see, the sights and sounds, and the food. Cask Strength GlenOak 12 “The Overly Ryed Series”,  Single Barrel Old Whipper Snapper 18, and similar mean less now after realizing that all are overpriced, pretty horrible, and unnecessary. Whereas the friends we see at these events are none of those things.

G-LO: Whipper Snapper 18? I must have missed that one. I really should pack my reading glasses when I go to these things. I’m really glad you mentioned the food by the way! The NYC Jewbilee always took the food really seriously, so even though they’ve been mothballed for an undetermined length of time, I was very VERY pleased when we broke the news that their caterer, Ari White of The Wandering Que, was launching Kiddushfest to take its place. Mmmmmm….. BRISKET!

AK: Did someone say Brisket?  Mmmmmm…I so gloriously recall Jewbilee II that we attended at the West Side Jewish Center in Midtown Manhattan. The Center was packed with people. It was packed, hot, and sweaty. I didn’t know anyone except from this thing called the internet. For all I knew, you were were a 5’ 8” blonde bombshell in 8” stilettos and fishnet stockings. Boy, was I wrong! I was scared beyond the capacity for rational thought. But I was also overwhelmed by the smell of whisky and cholent. I felt like I was in my grandmother’s house in Inglewood, CA. All the fear left my body as I waited in line for Ari’s delectable offerings. My head basically exploded. Then my stomach. I might have the order wrong.

G-LO: Explosion is an ugly (and messy) word. How about if we describe your experience at the outstanding Jewbilee II as a food and whisky-gasm? Much more appealing, and a little naughty too. In a nice way. The tagline for Jewbilee II should have been, “Leaves you satisfied and yearning for more…”.

While Kiddushfest was built around the same framework as the Jewbilees of Yore (that sounds like the name of a new BBC mini-series, no?), going from the West Side Jewish Center and Studio 450 (home of NYC Jewbilees III through VII) was quite a big change. We went from the hustle and bustle of Midtown Manhattan and the monolith that is Penn Station and Madison Square Garden to the just slightly less hustley and bustley area of Battery Park. In a way, we went back to the beginning, i.e. back to where the first settlements of what was once called New Amsterdam took place.

AK: Found this in my research (i.e. Wikipedia) on the origins of Battery Park as a public space in the 1840s:

Proponents said that the park would serve three purposes: abetting good health, improving the behavior of the “disorderly classes”, and showcasing the refinement of the city’s elite.  

Well, my brand of public policy and civic benefit clearly believe that Kiddushfest is a great example of all three of those. Ok, maybe not the second one and the third one is kind of iffy but I’m sure we’re in way better health after the event. Who doesn’t feel better after a night of whisky and BRISKET?!

G-LO: While I can’t speak for you and your delicate constitution, I can speak for my very robust, Sicilian constitution, and let me tell YOU, I felt fan-freaking-tastic after Kiddushfest! I am quite confident in saying that the heady mix of yummy vittles, bottomless pours of The Water of Life, and delightful company in a picturesque waterfront location left me feeling refreshed and ready to take on The Town. Ok, so maybe not the WHOLE town, but I was definitely ready for a couple cocktails and some late-night snacks. And speaking of yummy vittles, you spent quite a bit of time speaking with the orchestrator of said yumminess, i.e. Sir Ari White! What was that all about?

AK: First off, my constitution is as robust as anyone!

Narrator: It wasn’t.

G-LO: Who was that???

Narrator: This was true. He was clueless.

G-LO: OK, that’s just freaky. I’m feeling like the Priest in Season 2 of Fleabag right now whenever that 4th wall was broken!

Narrator: But not as freaky as this blog.

AK: I’m forging ahead, pretending it’s one of the many voices in my head. Where were we?

G-LO: Ari White and The Wandering Que.

AK: Sounds like a band I’d like to be in. Talking to Chef White about smoky heaven. He can get all bbq nerdy or meaty egalitarian with ease. I’ve been nerding out on The Gospels of Aaron (Franklin) and Steven (Raichlen) as of late, trying to change my life, and make the perfect brisket on my Weber Kettle. Talking to Ari is another step in the process. And from a whole different angle since he cooks Kosher meat. But let’s not get too deep in the coals.

G-LO: You and your goddamn Brisket! I’m still holding out for an invite to the next West Coast Office Brisket & Whisky Fest. Bastard.

AK: First, it’s G-d damn Brisket. Let’s be respectful, you heathen. And second, my table always has a place for Elijah the Prophet, Scarlett Johansson, and you.

Madame Skiver-Barton enjoying a smoke and a whisky.

G-LO: I only heard bits and pieces of your Q-chat with Ari. While you two were talking, I was also listening to the Whisky Advocate peeps (Susannah and her Minions) discuss some stories that they were working on. I may be an eavesdropper, but I ain’t no multitasker! Especially when it comes to listening to two conversations at the same time. Tell me more about this Que-chat with Ari.

AK: Oh, we chatted about pink butcher paper, Aaron Franklin, wood, smoke, bark, cooking for a large group.  You know, regular stuff. Probably the same stuff Ms. Skiver-Barton was going on about. You know how she is. She gets rolling on a topic and before you know it, you’re in the North Carolina weeds lost amongst the sycamores and fist-sized bugs wondering where the nearest fillin’ station is.

G-LO:  Please, don’t even get me started on that Skiver-Barton woman. You know how it goes with those hyphenated last name people. Trouble with a capital “T”! Yes, I know that rhymes with “P”, and that that “P” rhymes with pool. But this ain’t River City, Pal! And we’re not talking about starting a marching band for wayward youth. We’re talking whisky and BBQ! And Madame of The Hyphenated Last Name most definitely knows her way around a North Carolina BBQ pit and a whisky distillery, so yes, we were most definitely in the weeds that night, but thankfully, the bugs weren’t so bad, and they were nowhere near fist-sized. What the hell were we talking about again???

AK: There may be nothing scarier than a hungry Susannah Skiver-Barton (aka SSB or Super Sonic Barton for short) waiting in line for brisket. The stomping of sensible shoes was surprising, I must say. I expected the drooling since I was too and, to be factually correct, we were standing by the door to the kitchen with the wafting of barbecue coming our way. Who wouldn’t drool? C’mon!

G-LO: Drool is such an ugly word. It’s right up there (or right down there depending upon your perspective) with moist. I prefer to say that our mouths were watering, and that the brisket was juicy and delicious. You know, cause it really was!

All this talk about brisket is making me hungry. Again! Let’s talk a bit about the whisky. Thoughts on the selections? Was there anything that really tickled your fancy? I mean, I certainly wasn’t gonna tickle your fancy! There’s a Mrs. West Coast Office for that bit of funny business.

AK: You’re such a tease. Well, we knew that Ari’s food would be A+ and it was! I might have had a couple of helpings of brisket. Only my tailor knows for sure. But we had no idea (at least I didn’t) what the whisky offerings might be. Seeing Señor Joshua (née Jose) Hatton downstairs manning the IMPEX-JVS booth made us muy happy. Kilchoman, Port Askaig, Penderyn, and Single Cask Nation offerings!  Woohoo! There was one table that was confusing. Port Ellen, Laphroaig, old Macallan and more!!! Butttttt….that was for some kind of raffle that I didn’t quite understand. There was also an odd table of some spirits from Gardena, CA(!). Now this intrigued me if only because Gardena is where this chap started out in life. Who knew the little bedroom community has a distillery? Or does it? We need to research.

G-LO: I am most definitely a tease. I’m the teasiest tease that ever teased. You know who isn’t a tease? Señor Hatton! He’s no tease. He aims to please. He brings the whisky AND delivers one hell of a hug! While he and IMPEX-JVS definitely delivered The Goods, I gotta say, there were some significant holes in the whisky selections when compared to the last Jewbilee we attended. Wassup with that, Bro?

Joshua “Yo Yo Yossi!” Hatton of Single Cask Nation, IMPEX-JVS, and The One Nation Under Whisky Podcast

AK: Upstairs at Battery Gardens… did we mention where we were for this shindig?… there were plenty of spirit tables. Well, about 20, I’d guess. Mostly names we knew but definitely some unfamiliar ones like the tequila table whose name escapes me. It was great to see Laws Whiskey House from Denver. I love their Rye. Señor Hatton turned me onto them at Jewbilee in Chicago-bang bang. And who doesn’t love Compass Box? Corsair had a table too. But I was hoping for more Scotch names. My guess is that it’s hard starting up a new festival and getting commitments from brands to attend.

G-LO: You’re right! We did NOT mention the venue. Battery Gardens was the name. Battery Park is where it’s at. While I definitely enjoyed what was on offer, I can’t help but be a bit chagrined by what wasn’t there, i.e. Ardbeg, Laphroaig, Glenmorangie, The Balvenie, Glenlivet, Glenfiddich, Lagavulin, Talisker, The Glenrothes, and many many more. I’m sure you’re right about the difficulty in getting brands to sign up for a new event, especially in a hyper competitive markets like New York where they’re constantly doing promotional work. I also think that part of the problem stems from the fact that whisky is HOTT (that’s right, HOTT with two Ts!) right now, so well known brands probably get less impact from events like this. On the flipside, there’s no shortage of new brands out there, so if you can’t get the established brands, why not go for the up and comers? Speaking of up and comers, it was neat to see the Heaven’s Door whiskies at the event. While what I tasted from them was pretty good, it’s the artwork on the bottles that really blew me away. Me likey the pretty shiney packaging!

AK: I’m no Bob Dylan fan, but the artwork on his Heaven’s Door bottles was pretty cool. And yes, H-O-T-T, Baby! That’s what whisky is these days. And I’ve seen the lack of brands at shows here in LA too. It’s depressing. I was at show and there was a winery with a booth. They were pouring a wine that had rested in a bourbon barrel. That might be stretching the product definition a wee bit. I think for Ari & Co. it will be an ongoing effort to bring in bigger names, and if anyone can do it, he can. I can’t imagine the logistics of putting on this type of event and all the tentacles that need slaying.

G-LO: I’m sure it’s a royal pain in the ass to get brands to sign up, and if anyone knows from royal pains in the ass, it’s me. Mostly cause I am one. Kudos to Ari & Co. for fighting the good fight and making our NYC Whisky event in June dreams come true! There’s definitely room for improvement with regards to the whisky selections, but I’d say he nailed it with the venue, venue location, and food. And with regards to the food, I know we talked up the brisket quite a bit (and deservedly so!), but I gotta admit, the Kosher fish dishes on the ground floor were nothing to sneeze at! Love the Salmon Pastrami, and a few of those herring dishes were quite delicious, especially the one with the Israeli spices. Molto molto buono!

AK: OMG!, as the kids say. The smoked salmon and herring from The Rebbe’s Choice. Can I just roll around in that stuff for 7-10 days with crackers nearby? May G-d bless us all with this on our plates. Baruch HaShem. I believe you speak of the za’atar spices which are a must for the home or office. Ask for it by name. Accept no substitutes.

G-LO: You know what would be awesome? Getting Ari’s perspective on this whole Kiddushfest thing which he is definitely turning into #AThing. Do you think two can-do guys such as ourselves can make that happen?

AK: Let me wave my magical barbecue tongs…POOF!

G-LO: Wait… Magic??? I thought magic died when Claudia Schiffer and David Copperfield broke up. Tell us more about these magical barbecue tongs of yours. Can they make a perfectly cooked smoked brisket appear at any time? You know, the kind with the perfectly burnt, burnt ends, bark, smoke ring, and juicy center. Can they also make pitchers of sweet tea and bottles of vintage Port Ellen appear? If so, work your magic, Mr. Blaine, and make that Wandering Que interview magically appear before our eyes! Are you an “Abracadabra” or a “Hocus Pocus” kinda conjurer? Or do you just let your hands and those tongs do the talking? You know, like a Marcel Marceau type. Friggin mimes.

AK: Jeez, I wanted Teller, and I get Penn. Chill, Houdini!  Wait for it…

Fade to wavy visual with eerie piano music…

We spoke to organizer and master barbecuer, Ari White, via e-mail on various topics including Kiddushfest, event planning, the Jewish side of whisky festivals, and barbecue!

AK: Ari, great event! We were excited to be there for the first one!  How did Kiddushfest come about and what made you decide to jump into the whisky festival world?

Ari White (aka The Wandering Que or TWQ): Going back 11 years, my wife Gemma and I threw our first Kosher whisky festival which grew into a series of catered paired Whisky Dinners, Burns Suppers and the like around NYC.  I first met Mark Gillespie at our first one (click the following link and listen to one of Mark’s early podcasts:  http://whiskycast.libsyn.com/whisky-cast-episode-134-march-2-2008) where a young newly married me gushes while my blushing bride talks about her grandfather rubbing her teeth with whisky (swirling a Straithisla ’64 in her glass). The events were high end, pour lists epic, and locations varied. It was within the midst of those early whisky dinners that [Whisky Advocate magazine’s] WhiskyFest made their fatal move, and we were connected to Joshua Hatton in Single Cask Nations’ infancy. It was love at first dram, the rest is history.

Editor’s Note: Whiskyfest was held on a Friday night in New York City back in 2012. Since this is the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath, many of the local Jewish community could not attend. Single Cask Nation saw this as an opportunity to bring a high-quality whisky festival to the New York while not excluding the Jewish community by having their new event – Whisky Jewbilee – on a Thursday night initially.

AK: For sake of conversation, let’s assume you’re a whisky drinker (HA!), when did you start your whisky journey?

TWQ: I grew up down in the West Texas town of El Paso. Cheap Mexican beer and tequila were the wet nurses of my youth. In college, my horizons expanded to include bourbon, based more on price point then pomposity, I reckon. At 23, passing through the World of Whiskies in London’s Heathrow Airport as newlyweds, we were tasked with spending a £100 note on our first bottle. The statesmanlike salesman named Michelle spent an hour (at 8:00 am) sampling with us before we settled on a 25-year-old Glenmorangie for 75 quid (he called it a “lady’s dram”) [and] leaving room for a Glenfarclas 17 to boot. He gifted us a leather-encased flask that I still carry for kiddush on Shabbat today.

We called East 109th Street our home back then, across the cultural divide left behind at 96th Street. South of that border, Shabbat and Hashkama [morning prayers] Kiddushes at Congregations Orach Chaim and Kehilath Jeshurun [on New York’s Upper East Side] never ever disappointed with pours the likes of Springbank 33’s, Port Ellens, and countless single barrels of all ages every single week after services, maybe a few times in between, who’s to say?!

AK: What’s your go-to dram?

TWQ: Asking for a go-to dram is like saying what song do I like on the radio. Punk rock of young Kilchomans do me pretty right. With that said I’ve got a finger of Tamdu 001 left as I finish this second question.

AK: Putting together any large event like a wedding, bar mitzvah, or whisky festival takes a lot of planning. After three b’nai mitzvahs in my house, I know! Tell us about your plan of attack for Kiddushfest.

TWQ: Large scale events is what we do, day in and day out, year-round at the Wandering Que and for the last 13 years under Gemstone Catering. The logistics of this beautiful Hudson River waterfront beat the crap out of what we had to go through the last half-decade pulling off Whisky Jewbilee at Studio 450’s penthouse and its one service elevator.

AK: How did you assemble your team and the roles that they played?

TWQ: The team assembled itself when friends and industry colleagues alike stepped up to the plate offering their help in everything from vendor hunting and social media marketing, to day of ticket check-in, and swag bag assembly. It takes a village. With way too many to name, I’d be remiss to not mention Ari and Leah Cohen who just went way above and beyond any level of normalcy to make the evening a success.

AK: Whisky Jewbilee became iconic as a hardcore whisky-centric show. Your amazing food only added to the festival’s high regard in the community. We’ve been to many expensive festivals with pretty sad food offerings that leave us…hungry! But the boys of SCN (Jason and Joshua) have “moved on” from it, leaving a sad void in the festival world. Why do you think Whisky Jewbilee succeeded and how do you see Kiddushfest filling that void to the whisky community?

TWQ: The Jewbilee made everybody happy. The vendors loved the exposure to a knowledgable purchasing market segment that based a year’s purchases on to what they would be informed of that night. The kosher crowd loved access to events of that caliber where they could drink AND eat everything making a $100++ ticket price easier to wash down. #BrisketChaser. The food was always just the hook; it was the bonus of putting on our own festivals. Bless Joshua. The guy is a vegetarian and still enabled my brisket and sausage debauchery every year.

What really set the Jewbilee aside in my book was the accessibility to the brands and their ambassadors in comparison to all the larger or more established festivals already on the circuit. Our crowd was always engaged and curious rather then just on the road to drunken dipshittery. The venue was iconically NYC with 360° rooftop views and cigars to boot.   It became the best bang-for-the-buck kosher event in NYC hands down and even when everyone laughed at the Jewbilee for moving to the middle of the summer, nothing could stop us from selling out year after year. I knew we were doing something right when over a third of our tickets were being sold to non-Jewish Kosher keeping guests. It put us nose to nose with the biggest festivals NYC has ever hosted. [With Kiddushfest] even with a space expandable to over 1,000 guests, we are totally set on keeping the size approachable and mob mentalities at bay.

AK: Jewbilee was created as a whisky festival “by and for whisky geeks”. It was an event that whisky brands wanted to be at. What’s the strategy for Kiddushfest to get those names to attend in the future?

TWQ: This was by far and large our biggest challenge this year. With a glut of new festivals popping up every year in both the non-kosher and kosher food scenes, I totally appreciate many brands’ main challenge is choosing which ones bring back the best ROI. Any hope that my involvement in the Jewbilee from its inception would guarantee the same excitement was quickly dashed. With a new location and new name we were on our own and starting from scratch. There were enough vendors excited to not lose this summer event that we had some great momentum from the get-go. With 12 months to plan next year’s Kiddushfest rather then the 12 weeks we pulled the last one off in, I’m excited to say we’ll fill all 40 brand tables with 15 more breweries and ciders outside.

AK: I’ve yet to use the words “Kosher” and “Jewish” (but YOU have!). They are important in the discussion, especially for an event called Kiddushfest. Tell me how you see the cultural and religious aspects to the festival, and your thoughts on bringing in a wider audience.

TWQ: There is a rogue element within the observant world that get together for a quick dram on the Sabbath. They get together between and sometimes just maybe during the prayer services. On the one hand, they often catch flack for the time and place chosen for these rendezvous. On the other hand. they are for many of us, the one short chance to catch up with old and new friends with or without a Highland Park and piece of herring. No different then the Kiddush Club #safespace we built at the Whiskey Jewbilee, Kiddushfest was very [much] modeled around the same Sabbath-like setting complete with Smokehouse cholent, potato kugels and yapchik (mind-blowing, look that one up)  [We did…  https://www.kosher.com/recipe/potato-flanken-kugel-yapchik-6966]. We aimed to create an environment where friends could get together, without ditching the family or Rabbi’s sermon.

I wouldn’t call the festival a religious one. I do hope that the values that we have tried to embrace show with this [festival] bear fruit.  I am proud that we were able to raise $4,000 that evening for our two charity partners.  I can’t imagine too many other whisky festivals where a group of 50 guys would go outside at 9pm past the cigar bar and riverside cabana facing east to pray Ma’Ariv – the evening service – before diving right back in for the last 30 minutes of the show. Cholent [Jewish comfort food] is the original melting pot, [and] it fits the NYC scene just fine. I love that we have had such large numbers of women attendees and was thrilled with the large groups of non-Jewish guests as well. I hope it means we are doing a few things right.

AK: Let’s talk barbecue. It’s obvious that this is your happy place being from Texas. Barbecue and Kosher are generally not words you hear together too often!  How did you get into it? How did The Wandering Que start? How many events do you do in a year?

TWQ: Shit, Hoss, that’s a horse of another color! Wood smoked BBQ is like home for me, and moving up to NYC all those years ago I got homesick. There wasn’t so much as a lick of smoke in anything they were calling BBQ up here 10 years ago in the kosher world. I’m glad to say those days are done with the fires of southern cooking burning low and slow everywhere. Having grown up in a town without any kosher food (way before the days of Food Network), I am fortunate to play Johnny Appleseed traveling around the Tri-State, smoking up one community at a time before hitting the road to do it all over again. We cater well over 100 events a year with our BBQ and Charcuterie products now going into supermarket and gourmet food stores all over the country. Throw in five kids under the age of 11.  Sleep is highly overrated.

AK: You were in Philly the weekend after Kiddushfest. The Wandering Que travels!  How do you take your show on the road?! Do you have a food truck type of set-up?

TWQ: I do have two offsite BBQ Setups and teams. One is based around a 7,000 lb. 18′ offset stick burner BBQ pit by Gator Pit in Houston Texas. The other is our new 28′ BBQ Concession Trailer which is a little more closely related to a food truck, just minus the truck part and 3 times the size with an 8′ porch sporting a two ton Hog Cooker from Bubba Grills. And we have spent the last two years installing and building out my new kitchen to operate an Oyler 1300 by J&R Manufacturing in Mesquite Texas. It has an 1,800 lb capacity and runs entirely on burning wood. It’s a game-changer for me and by the Grace of God, I get to turn it on for the first time in 10 days after our final inspections by our local Departments of Building, Fire, and Health.

We travel far and wide hitting street fairs, music festivals, [as well as] private, corporate, and charity events. I run out of china at 700 people and we have served as many as 1,500 over a six-hour service. My pit crew and team are hardcore and I would be remiss (again) to not mention Samba, Joe, One-Stop, Lala, Mario and the STAR-K for being the real superheroes that make really make the magic happen.

AK: Last question for the barbecue nerds: What type of wood is your wood of choice?

TWQ: My favorite wood to smoke with is Pecan leaving me plum outta luck up here. We generally burn oak, cherry, and maple. I love any fruit wood I can get my hands on.

AK: So Kiddushfest #1 (or Echad) is in the books. The gates are closed! How do you think it went? What are the areas you’d like to work on for Kiddushfest #2 (or Steim)?

TWQ: The night’s early piss poor weather forced us to abandon the outdoor space and reset everything upstairs to include the dozen booths and our entire Wandering Que food station. [A] logistical nightmare I’d love to circumvent next year with blue skies, please. With that said, the venue was stunning and [we’ve been] invited back next year already where we are shifting back to the Thursday night model. The vendors seemed thrilled with both the turnout and the level of engagement. An interesting observation one pointed out to me was that at no point in the night did they have an empty table.  I look forward to expanding the beer garden next year as well to really take advantage of that outdoor space. With room for another 200 people next year, I also look forward to doubling the numbers of [whisky] on the pour. Small things come to mind: digitized check-in, printed pour lists in advance, much more water on the floor, spit buckets, beef ribs, and world peace. All pretty doable after smokin’ them Beef Ribs.

AK: Amen!  Ari, mazel tov on Kiddusfest I and thanks for taking some time to chat. We hope to be there for next year’s and all of the future ones.

TWQ: It’s 2:00 am and my Tamdu is long since turned over, so I’ll wish y’all a hearty l’Chaim and my thanks for all the love along the way, not just this year but for the many past as well.  It’s been a great trip so far, I’m excited to see what we get to share together along the long road to come.

_____________________________________________________________________

Many thanks to Ari White for taking the time answer our questions and for the media pass hook-up to this Que-tastic event!

It's #Kiddushfest Chat-time w/ @AaronMKrouse and Ari White of #TheWanderingQue! #BBQ #Whisky G-LO: Well, you did it again! A red-eye flight from LAX to JFK on Tuesday evening, an afternoon of eating and drinking in Midtown Manhattan on Wednesday afternoon followed by a 4 hour Kosher BBQ and whisky event in Battery Park at a little thing called…

[regrettablewritings]

Dating Stephen Strange Would Include

Setting that arrogance straight

Sure, he’s learned his lessons about how cockiness gets you nowhere you truly want to be, but let’s face it: Confidence is something Stephen’s known practically all his life. It’s all too easy for him to lapse back into it. Not as dramatically as before, though.

Mainly because the moment he does, you’re right there to poke a pin in that swollen head of his and drag him back down to Earth with you

Practically pleading for him to teach you magic

To be honest, Stephen is hesitant to teach you for a multitude of reasons that range from the fact that he is still technically a novice and therefore probably not the best option, to the fact that he’s a little worried about how you’ll take to the concept.

The training regimen can be demanding and for as many taunts he directs at you, he never wants you to feel discouraged or incompetent if he can help it.

However, after so much insisting, he agrees. Mainly because you point out how useful it would be for there to be one more sorcerer on his side in the event of a threat

(He also enjoys the idea of being in the position of teacher. It’s no secret that Stephen enjoys showing off his knowledge of things, so showing you all that he knows while preparing you for something you desperately want to learn? It’s like killing two birds with one stone!)

Winds up going into study overdrive, reading all the tomes that he can to better prepare himself for the position of magical mentor

You swearing up and down that the Cloak of Levitation is the initiator of at least 40% of all romantic or intimate interactions between you and Stephen

Seriously, the amount of times that thing has dragged the man towards you or you to him when you were going in the opposite direction is astounding

Also, I’m not going to say that this is one possible way that you two met but . . .

Yeah, it’s not out of the realm of possibility

The Cloak also serves as a blanket for you when Stephen isn’t using it

He’s a bit mixed about this. Because on one hand, seeing you encased in something of his own sets a fire of pride and contentment inside of him. Plus, you just look so cute and small engulfed in that thing.

But on another, the Cloak refuses to let go of you some times when Stephen really needs it: There have been more than two occasions when the Cloak is on Stephen, but the end is still wrapped around you. So when Stephen tries sprinting off to fix a problem only magic can hinder, you sometimes get unwillingly dragged along for a couple of feet. Or a couple of hallways.

You constantly misplacing your Sling Ring, resulting in the temporary demise of Stephen’s sanity and patience

“But I swear I left it right on the nightstand! Are you sure you don’t see it?!” “For God’s sake, (Y/N), it’s an interdimensional piece of jewelry that’s essential to your learning! This is like if Harry Potter lost his wand!”

Wong honestly doesn’t get what you see in Stephen but he enjoys your presence. Mainly because you’ll humor him by offering him fodder to snark at your boyfriend and because you’re one of the only people who can keep Stephen in line

Whole lot of magic-related nicknames coming from your end. Of course, there are completely normal ones like Sweetie or Steph. But it’s all too easy to call him names like Dumbledore, Dr. Strangelove, Stephen (Multiple) Universe, Dr. Who, Dr. Pooh-Bear (he hates this and you can get away with it in the confines of your room or in the study), Prof. Snape (”You sound a lot like him when you do a British accent!” “What? No, I don’t!”), Stranger Things, PhD (short for “Pretty Handsome Dude”), and Magic Man

I honestly can’t imagine Strange as being the type to really use affectionate nicknames. He may call you Darlin’ or Honey from time to time, but usually he just calls you by name or a nickname based off of your name

In moments wherein you’re felling down, however, he goes straight to Sweetheart

You two create the deadpan duo of the Sanctum, often sarcastically remarking on each other’s words, actions, or other peoples’ words or actions

I mean, you two can’t really compare to Wong’s level, but you guys hold up decently on your own

Learning to meditate

It comes with the territory of learning magic, so it had to come sooner or later

You fall asleep a lot of the time because you get too comfortable. This frustrates Stephen, but he usually gets his revenge by taking embarrassing photos of you as you’re nodding off or out cold

He sends these photos to Wong because he needs more friends

Dates being a bit of an iffy matter

It’s not that Stephen can’t leave the New York Sanctum, it’s that he can’t leave it too often: It’s one of the only homesteads for sorcerers alongside being one of the only sources of protection for the world and your home, and someone needs to protect it

So for the most part, dates tend to be confined inside: Cooking/baking together, movie nights, sitting quietly and reading, naps . . .

He probably shouldn’t, but Stephen also occasionally uses his Sling Ring to open up a portal to a city or place you’ve been wanting to go to. Just on occasion, though. And usually after he’s given in to your pitiful sighing from cabin fever.

When you guys do get to leave the Sanctum, you still usually wind up doing something tame. Your lives as sorcerers-in-training are hectic enough, and a simple coffee or dinner date suits you just fine. Though it weirds you out to no end to see Stephen in his civilian clothes . . .

PDA also being a mixed situation

Stephen has never been the most affectionate person throughout his life, preferring to take what he could get within reason by way of his wits. Even when he’d been seeing Christine, he admittedly wasn’t much in the way of romantic intention so much as he was more carnally. Honestly, it wasn’t until you two started dating that he became a bit more open to the idea of PDA based firmly in romantics rather than just heavily in personal benefit and desire.

As such, it’s kept to a minimum on average. Even if you’re inside the Sanctum with nobody else around to bother you!

However, once he gets into optimal relaxed state, he can’t keep his hands off you. Not necessarily in the naughty sense, but in that he enjoys knowing you’re there: Holding hands when the two of you are reading, letting you lean on him while he’s studying, placing his head on your lap or your head onto his.

You can tell he’s really in a good mood when he practically has you on his lap

The Cloak, as stated before, is often the initiator in these instances.

Him noting that his hands tend to tremble even less when he touches you.

Wondering if you’ll ever get your own artifact

Stephen insists it’s a decent possibility ( “You’re my pupil, after all.”), but it may lie elsewhere. After all, he had to relocate just for the Cloak to choose him

“I don’t think they want me snooping around in the other Sanctums, Steph.” “. . . True. Okay, tell you what: Until we find you one, you can share the Cloak with me. Sound fair?” “Awwww, Stephen!” “Good! Because based on its actions, it was probably going to be like that anyway.”

Arguments usually stemming from Stephen’s character

Sure, he’s learned the error of his ways. That materialistic and superficial approaches with cynicism and arrogance won’t get you where you want to be. But learning is a process. And a damn difficult one at that. Especially for someone as stubborn as Stephen Strange. So it’s unfortunately only natural for Stephen to still lapse into this personality.

He’ll probably say something so arrogant that it’s hurtful, or insist that you’re doing something wrong. Basically, his words diminish your confidence in your abilities.

He doesn’t necessarily mean to, but you get so damn tired of his need to be the smartest person in the room

If you call him out on this, the argument will only escalate until he says something particularly biting. At this point, you’ll be so frustrated and hurt that you have to leave. Let’s just say that Strange is lucky that the magic you know does not include telekinesis. Because if you did, so many things would have been flying at him out of pure rage.

In typical Stephen Strange fashion, he’ll feel justified in his anger. At first.

But then the image of your eyes, stinging from glaring and holding back tears, would continuously flash in his mind. This could cause him to think about what he’s said and feel awful for it. He’s disappointed in himself: He’s been given a second chance at life and he went and screwed it up for himself again.

And you know you’ve acted poorly when a sentient cape makes the decision to avoid you for your words.

After the fifth or seventh unanswered phone call, he’d try and find you himself by opening portals, taking a quick look around, and checking off where he doesn’t find you.

Once he does, however, he’ll quietly approach you and, even if you refuse to look at him, offer a quiet but sincere apology before launching into a self-directed scolding wherein he acknowledges he did something awful and that nothing he says will ever truly undo it but he can only hope that, in time, you’ll forgive him

Still looking elsewhere, you quietly point out that if he used the Eye of Agamotto, he could undo it

That’s how he knows he’s somewhat gotten through to you

You agree to come home and let him earn back your good graces if he sleeps in the study and gives you the space you now need to cool down

He hates sleeping in the study, but he hates the idea of you hating him because of him even more. He readily accepts this offer.

Though he may attempt to speed up the process by opening small portals to Dylan’s Candy Bar for some of your favorite sweets and a few cutesy trinkets

Another source of arguments tends to be how overly concerned Stephen can get about your training

He worries you’ll become overambitious in your studies and become like him, resulting in doing something reckless.

Worse: you’ll become like Kaecilius, so he sometimes may omit some things from your learnings.

Once you learn this, the shouting begins. He usually won’t make a scathing comment, but in his efforts to express how worried he is for you, Stephen may make you feel incompetent.

It may take a bit to calm down but these sorts of fights usually end with you retreating into one of the Sanctum’s rooms to cool down and Stephen to the library to distract himself

You’re often the first to approach the other, telling him that while you do not agree with his stance and insist that his omissions are not okay, you can only ask that he trust you to remain good and never use your powers for evil

Maybe every once in a while making a joke about how the Sanctum “feels way too roomy” for just the two of you and that maybe you should consider some day filling it with little sorcerers.

“It can be like our own little Hogwarts, but with mandalas and Sling Rings instead of charms and wands!” you egg on

Stephen can’t hear you very well over the sound of his own coughing, desperately trying to clear his throat after his tea went down the wrong way

You insist that what you’d really meant was that you should look to initiate more students.

Yeah. Sure.

Hearing the story of how he fended off Dormammu over and over again. Sometimes because he wants to feel cocky about his smart thinking, usually because you honestly like hearing about it.

Despite the world of possibilities you inhabit – a world where a Norse god of a man pops in on occasion and fights alongside a man in a flying suit – you never thought your life was destined to be any more interesting than the average person’s. As bizarre and even potentially stressful as your life as a sorcerer-in-training is, you feel extremely lucky to get the chance to explore new things the way you are. And hearing Stephen remind you of how this is even possible just makes you feel all the more lucky.

However, between the two of you, Stephen considers himself the lucky one: He should’ve died in that accident caused by his own stupidity; he did not. He shouldn’t have been granted the privilege of studying in Kamar-Taj; he was. He shouldn’t have been so lucky as to master the kinds of magic as he had; he was. And he definitely shouldn’t have lucked out by winning the heart of someone like you, much less be able to return it tenfold. But here he is, often finding himself serving as your human pillow on evenings where it’s quiet enough for him to read and for you to sleep, snuggled up on his side. Holding your hand in his trembling ones, sharing meals with you, holding intelligent conversations about anything from the medical field to magic to pop culture and loving it as he never had before with anyone else.

Perhaps he tells you the story of how he defeated Dormammu not to feel good about himself, but to remind him of how he will always sacrifice himself for your safety and happiness, even if he didn’t know he was doing at the time. Time just has a funny way of making us realize the things that are important to us and what we would do to keep them safe and close to us.

[flauntpage]

The Outlet Pass: Teodosic, The Bulls, IT Impressions, and Toronto's Defense

1. Reconsidering Aaron Gordon’s Offensive Strategy

We still don’t know Aaron Gordon’s ceiling. With the addition of a steady three-point shot to his repertoire, his potential is as limitless as his athleticism. He turned 22 in September and is averaging 19 points and eight boards with a True Shooting percentage that’s nearly at 60.0. He also has a pair of 40-point performances and zero games where he’s scored in single figures—maybe he’ll be an All-Star someday.

Maybe he’ll win Defensive Player of the Year. Maybe he’ll be a vanguard for true positionless basketball, a walking Extinction Level Event for traditional centers who can’t match up with him on either end.

Watch Gordon play and you quickly get a sense that he feels all this will eventually come true. He wants to accomplish everything at the same time. Shoot, dribble (a lot), drive, launch unnecessarily difficult shots and prove to himself, and everybody else watching, that no defender can stop him from doing what he wants to do. (I experience a similar feeling walking around my neighborhood’s Dekalb Market Hall during lunch. Let me have it all.)

When he’s in the half-court with the ball in his hands, Gordon experiences choice overload. It’s in this way he’s become his own worst enemy. His handle is nearly good enough to bring him wherever he wants, and, now that he’s at the four full-time, whoever’s guarding him probably can’t keep up. But sometimes less is more. Instead of potentially molding himself into a high-volume scorer, the Paul George 2.0 that Frank Vogel evoked when he first took the job in Orlando, Gordon should instead focus on being more of a reactive, energetic presence—someone who shoots, passes, cuts, and stays engaged off the ball.

This sounds blasphemous, but maybe pull-up threes and baseline turnarounds just aren’t for him. Perhaps a vast majority of his baskets should be assisted, and he can use his physical gifts to snatch lobs, intimidate five positions, rebound, elevate off screens to get his shot off over any defender’s contest, and attack closeouts with a supercharged first step few his size can keep up with. Whenever only one option sits on the table, Gordon usually makes good things happen.

Now that he’s making outside shots—a quarter of all his attempts are "wide open" threes and nearly half go in—and forcing bigs to close hard, Gordon can afford to subsist off action that’s generated by a teammate’s pass or penetration. He’s also a deadly screener who can test the defense by either popping or diving whenever he wants.

Unfortunately, some of Gordon’s shot chart looks the way it does because he plays for the most depressing team in the league, and if he doesn’t end a possession himself (even if it’s with an off-balance contested fadeaway) Mario Hezonja will probably just wind up head butting the ball out of bounds. The fat in his game is necessary for this reason, among others. But it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if Gordon ultimately became a more polished Shawn Marion (one might argue that, with the fifth-highest usage on his own team, he's already on that track).

That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be allowed to/can’t create for himself, or that he doesn’t project to be the second option on a good team. Just that it’s okay if how he’s ultimately utilized doesn’t line up with how we believe second options on good teams should serve.

I believe Gordon’s ceiling is that of a perennial All-Defensive team member who annually ranks as one of the five most efficient players in the league. That’s a damn good piece, and whichever team he’s on next year should do their best to plot the most intelligent course to get him there.

2. Harden Has Great Timing

James Harden's strained hamstring is a bummer that will test a Rockets organization that hasn't really experienced his absence for any extended time since he became James Harden. This also robs us of watching a brilliant tactician at the peak of his powers. That stinks. But I still want to highlight a play that illustrates why Harden is so freaking amazing, from Houston's collapse in Boston last Thursday night.

There are a handful of qualities that separate Harden from a majority of first and second options throughout the NBA, but it's his ability to hone in on the defense's second layer and anticipate what they'll do that places him above everyone not named LeBron James.

Watch above. Even before Boston switches Jayson Tatum onto Harden, Al Horford positions himself directly in the middle of the paint. Brad Stevens calls for his All-Star big to get out and avoid a three-second violation, and the exact second he starts to move towards Nene, Harden takes off. Without warning, Horford has to jump back to where he was and thwart the drive, leaving his man all alone for the dunk.

This is what happens when a Hall of Fame talent is complemented with unprecedented spacing. A serious Defensive Player of the Year candidate is rendered about as resistant as a scarecrow.

3. The Pistons Should Go Small

Detroit isn't the only team in the league that always has a big man on the floor who can't/won't shoot outside the paint, but they're one of very few. Andre Drummond, Eric Moreland, and Boban Marjanovic (who started against the Miami Heat on Wednesday night and was burned alive once Hassan Whiteside's foul trouble forced Erik Spoelstra to play Kelly Olynyk at the five) are Stan Van Gundy's centers and he's sticking to them.

This makes sense. Rim-running roll men who protect the paint, rebound, and set solid screens are a lynchpin of Van Gundy's basketball philosophy. And recent injuries to Avery Bradley and Stanley Johnson have forced him to go even bigger than normal, with Tobias Harris spending more time than he should at the three.

The Pistons have an average offense and the 10th-best defense in the league, and it's unlikely Van Gundy will try and downsize while Reggie Jackson is out. An Ish Smith-Avery Bradley backcourt is small enough as it is. They're okay now and will make the playoffs. But once everybody is healthy, there are intriguing lineups that can give the Pistons some punch, featuring Anthony Tolliver at the five. (Van Gundy closed with Tolliver at center against Miami, but that was mostly a failed attempt to match up against Olynyk.)

Van Gundy played Jon Leuer at the five a tiny bit last year, and once he's healthy a Leuer, Harris, Kennard, Bradley, Jackson lineup could be pretty damn fun. Leuer served as a decent stretch-five for the Phoenix Suns two years ago, and imagining him open driving lanes for Jackson, Harris, and Bradley should make a frustrated fanbase smile.

Drummond is obviously fine getting the 33 minutes he deserves, but it's that other 15 where the Pistons can do some really interesting things. Johnson is strong enough to guard most fours and that may ultimately be his best NBA position, while Harris is by far his best self when slower players try and guard him. Kennard and Bradley can shoot. Small ball would be a refreshing experiment in the Motor City.

4. Don’t Switch Out on Tyler Johnson

Seven years ago I started a blog called Shaky Ankles that allowed me to scribble random NBA-related thoughts in between clips of crossover-dribble-induced carnage. Good times. This hesitation move by Tyler Johnson that nearly disintegrated Maxi Kleber from the waist down is an ode to that once glorious site.

5. Who Would You Rather Have: Otto Porter or Andrew Wiggins?

This is a fun debate, for no other reason than we get to compare the value of a reliable tertiary option who’s grown comfortable developing in the backseat on a good team his first five years in the league, with a prodigious phenom whose responsibilities were abruptly ceded to an incoming three-time All-Star and pseudo-MVP candidate.

Comparing these two also calls into question what should be valued as desirable traits in a modern day wing, particularly one on a max contract. The contrast is clear.

Wiggins is way more athletic, superior at setting up his own shot with enough confidence to get it off over literally anyone on Earth; he possesses rare physical abilities that lift his ceiling, on both sides of the ball, much higher than Porter’s will ever be.

Against the Brooklyn Nets on Wednesday night, Wiggins zoomed coast to coast in crunch-time to create something out of nothing in a way very few players can. These sequences are gold stars on his resume and it’s hard to shake them from memory whenever anyone labels Wiggins as a disappointment.

But an iffy outside shot and the inability to consistently impact a game without the ball in his hands complicates Wiggins’ place on a great team. His usage is down dramatically this year, but so is his effective field goal percentage. That's...not supposed to happen. If he doesn’t make those around him better and isn’t efficient enough scoring the ball to rationalize placement as a go-to option, then, particularly within the context of Minnesota’s long-term hierarchy (assuming Jimmy Butler re-signs), what is he?

That question is probably too harsh. In NBA history, only LeBron James, Kevin Durant, Carmelo Anthony, Shaquille O’Neal, Kobe Bryant, and Tracy McGrady have scored more points before their 23rd birthday. He is clearly a unique talent. He's played more minutes than anyone in the league this season; adjusting to life as the third wheel can’t be easy for someone who’s only been a headliner.

Photo by Geoff Burke-USA TODAY Sports

A year ago, comparing him with Porter wouldn’t be taken very seriously, but the Wolves might agree to swap the two if Washington called with an offer tomorrow. That said, even though Porter is a more comfortable fit, moving on from Wiggins would probably be a mistake three or four years down the road, when Minnesota is actually ready to win a championship.

But Porter isn’t a finished product, either. He’s only 18 months older than Wiggins and, assuming his role doesn’t take on too much water, may have a 50-40-90 season in his back pocket. Three years ago he shot 33.7 percent from beyond the arc. Right now he’s at 46 percent on 2.7 more attempts per game. Unlike Wiggins, who plays unsure of when he should be aggressive and when he should placate his more skillful teammates, Porter already understands that Washington can’t be its best self unless he punishes the defense whenever it leans too hard towards John Wall and Bradley Beal.

The Wizards are a juggernaut when he plays power forward (a position Wiggins has never spent much time at) and his offensive repertoire has bled into different areas beyond just being a stationary catch-and-shoot threat. Last year 70.1 percent of his shots were launched without taking a dribble. This year that’s down to 54.5 percent. (Wiggins has never gone higher than the 36.6 percent he submitted as a rookie.)

Porter is a natural complement. He’s ketchup on a cheeseburger. Wiggins is...another cheeseburger. There’s nothing wrong with having two cheeseburgers, and ketchup by itself is disgusting, but which one of these players, outside the context of their current role, would you rather having knowing a roster had to be filled out around them? I’ve gone back and forth on it and, as lost as he looks sometimes, would still take Wiggins, with the hope that someday (he’s only 22!) he’ll figure out how to make the opponent worry about him on every single possession.

Wiggins doesn’t have to play with Russell Westbrook rage, just pick his spots, be quick to the ball, and unleash the All-NBA talent that simmers within. He’s ultimately a jewel too valuable to pass on. That said, it wouldn't shock me if a majority of his current contract was spent playing for a different team.

6. Milos Teodosic is Fearless

Blake Griffin is healthy, Lou Williams is really taking advantage of the brightest green light he’s ever seen, and the Los Angeles Clippers have spoiled themselves with a two-week stretch in which they played (and beat) the Phoenix Suns, Houston Rockets, Memphis Grizzlies, Sacramento Kings, Charlotte Hornets, and Los Angeles Lakers.

Bruce Bowen is singing “It ain’t no fun if Ralph can’t ha-a-a-a-a-a-ve none” to his 79-year-old broadcast partner during ad reads. Danilo Gallinari is on the mend from a partially-torn glute. Austin Rivers narrowly avoided a torn Achilles. Life is wonderful.

In the middle of it all is a 30-year-old rookie who lives in a parallel universe that exists 0.5 seconds ahead of the one everybody else knows. Milos Teodosic is responsible for half a dozen thrilling moments every night, and his borderline-belligerent shot selection deserves some credit as a catalyst for L.A.’s reversal. If you’re guarding him and go under on the screen, he’s firing away. There’s no hesitation. No time for questions. The second his man spins/dips/slides under a screen, that ball is getting flung towards the basket.

Sometimes he’ll shoot because everyone on the court expects him to pass. Leave him open at your own peril.

This is simultaneously a concern for Los Angeles—among all players who average at least 2.5 pull-up threes per game, only Tim Hardaway Jr. and D’Angelo Russell are less accurate than Teodosic—and the other team.

Even though he’s barely shooting over 30 percent from beyond the arc, there hasn’t been much downside to Teodosic believing he's Kyle Korver. Stats only matter so much when a guy rises up behind the three-point line without hesitation to nail one in your face.

The Clippers are basically the best team ever when he’s on the floor (though an unreasonably low opposing three-point percentage probably has much to say about that).

All that’s wonderful, but it’d be a crime to write anything about this man and not take a brief 300 words to gush about his passing. Teodosic has been a shaggy Santa Clause for years, and Clippers roll men are reaping the benefits, shooting over 70 percent when he slips them the ball (fourth highest among 93 players who’ve fed/tried to feed a roll man at least 30 times this season. That’s impressive, but doesn’t compare to the fact that he’s yet to turn the ball over in these situations, per Synergy Sports.)

No matter where on the floor they begin, his bounce passes are received like thoughtfully gift-wrapped cashmere sweaters.

Teodosic’s no-looks tend to be dressed down, so normal and effective that there isn't any room for elegance. Instead, they're just logical decisions, like, Deyonta Davis thinks I’m throwing one up to DJ so I’ll just stare at DJ! until the ball is suddenly on its way to Griffin as he plunges into the paint.

Teodosic’s anticipatory vision is a miracle. Relative to what he faced in the Euroleague, the NBA’s intensified athleticism is, so far, no match for it. And so long as he doesn't lose confidence in his jumper, Los Angeles' offense will be pandemonium whenever he's on the floor.

7. Chicago Has Reached a (Minor and Welcome) Fork in the Road

After their first 38 games, the Bulls are 13-25 with the fourth-lowest point differential in the league. They entered the season as the favorite to finish with more ping-pong balls than anyone else, which is what many people in the organization wanted.

There’s still a lot of basketball left to be played, but if the season ended today Chicago would only have a 15 percent chance at a top-three pick; six teams have a lower winning percentage and they’re within a game of passing three more. The Bulls aren’t good (too much of their surge has been reliant on piping hot mid-range accuracy) but they also aren’t Luka Doncic/Marvin Bagley III bad. This creates an obvious dilemma.

Last week, I tweeted that several parallels exist between these Bulls and the 2014-15 Boston Celtics, a team that was also 13-25 after their first 38 games. In reality, Chicago is somewhere between them and the 2013-14 Phoenix Suns, a 48-win Little Engine That Could (Not Make The Playoffs) that unexpectedly accelerated a rebuild that clearly needed more time.

Boston, after a few franchise-altering mid-season transactions were completed, finished with 40 wins and made the playoffs. Rajon Rondo was traded to the Dallas Mavericks for a first-round pick, Jae Crowder, Jameer Nelson, and Brandan Wright (who was then dealt to the Phoenix Suns for two second-round picks—one which recently turned into Semi Ojeleye); Jeff Green was ludicrously swapped for a first-round pick from the Memphis Grizzlies; and Isaiah Thomas and Jonas Jerebko were scooped up in a three-team trade where the Celtics actually surrendered a first-round pick.

Not sure if anyone has ever told you this but at the time Boston owned 19 first-round picks via the Brooklyn Nets. For the purpose of comparing them to any other team going through a rebuild, those picks are essentially an asterisk that allowed Danny Ainge to add someone like Thomas with the hope of then flipping him for even more assets down the line, sacrificing Boston’s own draft position in the process. They didn’t have to tank. Two years later they made the Eastern Conference Finals and were good enough to lure a max free agent in back-to-back summers.

The Bulls do not have any draft picks from the Nets, but they still find themselves in a similar situation, with a head coach who was highly reputed from college basketball at the helm of a young, impressionable roster. Chicago also, unexpectedly, already has blue-chip prospects in Lauri Markkanen and Kris Dunn, with Zach LaVine’s return on the horizon.

Photo by Mike Dinovo-USA TODAY Sports

But Nikola Mirotic, who’s shooting 46.6 percent from deep on over six attempts per game, is the distinct difference between their pitiful early-season play and what's happened since his fractured face healed. Despite losing their last three games, since Mirotic’s return on December 8th, the Bulls have the seventh-best win percentage in the NBA. They rank fifth in defensive rating, second in pace, and second in assist-turnover ratio. They’re annihilating opponents when Mirotic is on the floor.

Again, though, Chicago doesn’t have any Nets picks. They can’t afford to draft Terry Rozier when someone like Myles Turner or Devin Booker is plucked a few spots ahead. Their hopeful underdog story is ultimately a mirage, and continuing to play as well as they are could have devastating long-term effects.

Trading Mirotic—he can’t actually be dealt until January 15th—makes sense. He isn’t good enough to push anybody over the edge into title contention, but could be useful for the right team, maybe one that isn't guaranteed a playoff spot right now. The Clippers could view Mirotic as Gallinari insurance, but dealing a first-round pick (the first they could surrender won’t yield until 2021 at the earliest) would be shortsighted for a franchise that can’t win it all and may be mired in their own rebuild by then.

The Oklahoma City Thunder, Portland Trail Blazers, Detroit Pistons, Washington Wizards, Milwaukee Bucks, New Orleans Pelicans, and possibly even the San Antonio Spurs would all enjoy having Mirotic in their rotation, especially knowing they’d hold a $12.5 million team option for his service in 2018-19. But of those teams that are even able to, would any surrender a lottery-protected first-round pick? Would Portland give up someone like Zach Collins? It feels unlikely, though not totally insane.

Now let’s go the other way for a second. What if the Bulls keep Mirotic, get LaVine back, and make a push for the eight seed, of which they’re currently six games back with four teams standing in their way (the Nets, Knicks, Philadelphia 76ers, and Charlotte Hornets). This isn’t ideal but, assuming they make it, wouldn't single-handedly plunge their franchise into the dark ages, either.

Chicago is an attractive free agent market with a clean cap sheet two summers from now—even if they re-sign LaVine—when several interesting free agents, like Klay Thompson, Kawhi Leonard, and Kevin Love, will enter the marketplace.

If the Bulls focus on developing their mainstays (this probably doesn’t include Mirotic) in a winning environment, actualize a promising culture, and turn organic momentum into a spear for free agent fishing, it’s not impossible to envision a scenario where they land a couple significant pieces and are able to maintain status as a competitive organization for the foreseeable future, at a rate much faster than anyone thought possible back on the day they traded Jimmy Butler.

I’m all for a good tank job, but self-sabotage for the sake of the seventh overall pick and a future asset that may not ever produce at the level Mirotic currently is probably isn’t worth it when a serious opportunity to make the playoffs presents itself. There’s no right answer here, though. Luck goes hand in hand with the consistently shrewd decisions Chicago’s front office will need to make, no matter what they choose to do.

But dealing Mirotic and/or any other helpful pieces on this team would be super depressing.

8. Mike Beasley’s Passing is the NBA’s Own Black Mirror Episode

Ever since he heroically wrapped Lucky the Leprechaun's neck in a noose on national television, faint cries of “M-V-P” have echoed across the upper bowel of Madison Square Garden whenever Michael Beasley does just about anything that looks kind of nice.

This is cool. Even though Beasley remains a master of the mid-range (the word “master” is probably a little strong but let’s just roll with it) and as inefficient as ever, his enthusiastic attitude towards ball movement—even when it won’t directly lead to an assist!—is fun. When, for whatever reason, the defense decides to trap Ron Baker or Frank Ntilikina 25 feet from the basket, Beasley will slip into the middle of the floor and show off the unselfishness he isn’t known for.

He occasionally senses which defenders are helping from where, and who he should pass the ball to.

In these moments he is still 3500 miles from being the MVP, or even one of the league’s top 100 players. At the end of the day, Beasley still feasts on faceups, one-on-one sequences that bog New York’s offense down and come dangerously close to memeifying Jeff Hornacek’s gameplan. But he also isn’t a punching bag, and sustained play above that label is a win for the oldest 28-year-old in the world.

9. WELCOME BACK, ISAIAH!!!

Isaiah Thomas is a national treasure, and if you don’t like watching him play basketball then we can’t be friends. In his debut with the Cavaliers, we witnessed a few call backs to last year’s MVP candidate who enjoyed one of the most effective individual offensive campaigns in NBA history. Thomas wasn’t shy pulling up off picks whenever his screener’s defender dropped back for fear of getting roasted off the bounce.

But Thomas also has yet to reveal the same burst that routinely torpedoed defenses a year ago—the hypnotic hesitation dribble and last second eruption as he nears the basket are an unstoppable combination. That’s A) expected, and B) fine so long as defenders let him shoot.

He was still slippery enough (against Damian Lillard, Shabazz Napier, and C.J. McCollum) to go middle when defenders tried to keep the ball on the sideline, a nice trait that opens up the floor for teammates who need him to tilt the opposition one way so they can gain an advantage.

This is what he did on his first touch as a Cavalier. It made Jae Crowder very happy.

There were defensive miscues in which he let Lillard pull up to his right a couple times off a screen, but for the most part Thomas dug in and held his own. He trailed ball-handlers around picks and fought in the way those who routinely watch him play are familiar with.

Apart from a few minutes in the first half, most of Thomas’ action was spent with the second unit, ostensibly allowing Ty Lue to lessen LeBron James’ load (the league’s minutes leader heading into Wednesday night logged his lowest total since November 28th in Thomas’ debut). We’ll see how that dynamic plays out as the season drags on; how Thomas’ presence impacts James’ workload, Dwyane Wade’s touches (Wade logged his fewest minutes since Veteran’s Day), etc.

We’ll see if IT is still able to scamper around traps—particularly useful when Tristan Thompson is the screener—and whether his body will consent to all the aggressive drives to the basket that elevated his efficiency to an All-NBA level last season.

Thomas’ motor is irrepressible, though. He’s a special player who can single-handedly turn the tide of any game and wrestle momentum away from any opponent. If he’s the same player he was before the hip injury, Cleveland will waltz into the NBA Finals.

10. Trevor Booker’s Twitter Profile

Entrepreneur, NBA, A taller TJ McConnell. Beautiful.

11. Is Toronto’s Defense For Real?

For all that’s made of Toronto’s ballyhooed ball movement, DeMar DeRozan’s sudden transformation into Reggie Miller, and a group of non-lottery pick youngsters (Jakob Poeltl notwithstanding) who function as tradable assets and helpful contributors, it’s the most impressive defense of Dwane Casey’s tenure—which ranked first in December and is up to sixth for the season—that should make people believe this team is overlooked as a legitimate championship contender.

Or...not? The Raptors have enjoyed an impossibly easy schedule since Thanksgiving, squaring off against several teams that range from basement dwellers to borderline playoff participants: The Sacramento Kings, Charlotte Hornets, Phoenix Suns, and Philadelphia 76ers (each twice), plus the Atlanta Hawks, Memphis Grizzlies, Brooklyn Nets, and Los Angeles Clippers (without Blake Griffin).

The Oklahoma City Thunder tore Toronto’s defense to shreds a couple days after Christmas and on Wednesday night they allowed Justin Holiday, Nikola Mirotic, and Lauri Markkanen to alone combine for 68 points. Are their defensive numbers a mirage or will they hold up against stiffer competition when games actually start to matter?

I’m cautiously leaning towards the latter. The bench units are a vice grip and most of the reason for their dominance on that end, but Kyle Lowry, Serge Ibaka, and DeRozan are locking in at the right times and O.G. Anunoby has been a godsend.

Numbers are great, but watch their effort.

After struggling to stay in front of Dennis Smith Jr. all night, Dallas forces a switch to try and get Kyle Lowry on Harrison Barnes in his sweet spot near the nail. Lowry does a great job pushing Barnes a few feet further out, though, then boxes him for a few dribbles before DeRozan comes off Wes Matthews to help.

Normally this would end in disaster, but the Raptors rotate on a string. Fred VanVleet (Van Fleet forever in my heart) races off J.J. Barea in the corner to take that away. DeRozan then books it to Barea and runs him off the line, forcing Jonas Valanciunas to step up and Ibaka to drop down on Salah Mejri.

Everything up to this point deserves an A, but Toronto receives an A+ for what happens next. Knowing the shot clock is at three and that the ball will have to go up soon, Ibaka hustles out to smother Smith Jr. and force a drive right towards Valanciunas. The Mavericks then commit a 24-second shot-clock violation. This is perfection. The Raptors have all the right ingredients to make opponents sweat, and if they can continue to eliminate good three-point looks while making life hard at the rim, their offensive attack won’t be what people gush about during the playoffs.

The Outlet Pass: Teodosic, The Bulls, IT Impressions, and Toronto's Defense published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv