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Dean looked up as the Y/C/H hunter walked into the viewing room. Her
hair fell loosely around her face, the soft Hollywood curls framing it
perfectly. His eyes wandered over her body, the way her jeans hugged her arse
perfectly, the black tank she wore that was slightly see through, the deep red
bra underneath that showed off some of her best assets. Her silver cross hung
down over the top of her breasts, the diamonds shining in the light. Her heels
clicked on the polished concrete floor, he glanced down at the ankle boots,
that was a new looked. The look was Y/N all over, but a sexed up Y/N. He
frowned at the duffels in her hand.
because if tatooine has dragons then absolutely jakku has dragons, wilder and stranger dragons than on tatooine—the dragons on jakku have developed scales like durasteel to camouflage them as they move between the civil war wrecks, bellies the same color of sand. That’s the first thing Rey learns is how to tell the difference between a heap of junk and a hoard, Yund dragging her out of the hollowed-out wreck and back into the sunlight. Shit, Yund breathed, and Rey had watched her, wide-eyed and clutching her sack. Fuck, that was close.
Rey hadn’t understood, but they’d sat there in the sand as Yund tried to catch her breath. And—Rey had bit down on her hand to keep from screaming when the dragon came back, skimming close enough that she could count the scales on its belly. (The blood from her hand looked very red, against the sand.)
but where Plutt had portions, dragons offered truth. Rey had spent half a week cleaning up an Imperial holocron to approach the dragon of the The Indomitable. Old as the sand, it was supposed to be the politest of its brothers and sisters, the most indulgent of acolytes.
“Little one,” it rumbled when Rey kneeled there on the hard decking, her palms sweating where they held the holocron. “You have a question for me?”
“Yes,” Rey whispered, then cleared her throat and tried again: “Yes. I—want to know where my family is.”
Dragons could not look pitying—not really, but the dragon of the Indomitable cocked its head and that was something similar. “They are ahead,” it finally said. “Do not be afraid. You will find them, and they will love you.”
Rey had gulped and offered out the holocron, but the dragon of the Indomitable had shaken its massive head. “No,” it said, bowing its great head until its scales brushed her knuckles, pushing her hand back towards her with its nose. “Keep it. It will be of use to you, someday.”
(Luke Skywalker looks faintly wondering when she passes him the lost holocron of Bampor-Tae. “From a—dragon,” Rey says, when he asks where she found it. “With his compliments.”)
Homage to New York: A Self-Constructing and Self-Destroying Work of Art Conceived and Built by Jean Tinguely
In 1960, MoMA’s Press Office sent a press release announcing, matter-of-factly, “A machine, 23 feet long and 27 feet high, conceived and built by the Swiss-born artist Jean Tinguely so that it destroys itself when set in motion, will be shown in the garden of the Museum of Modern Art Thursday evening, March 17.” Tinguely had been asked to create one of his signature kinetic artworks, and in collaboration with other artists such as Billy Klüver and Robert Rauschenberg he assembled a great self-destructing machine monument to the end of the mechanical age. Once set off, the machine performed for 27 minutes for a crowd of invited guests, after which they sorted through the remnants—including bicycle wheels, motors, a bathtub, and a piano—for souvenirs. Curator Peter Selz remembered Tinguely’s astonishment as he collected material for his sculpture: “He had never seen anything like the junkyards and junk heaps of New Jersey.”
See images of the sculpture in action, read the out-of-print brochure, and more at mo.ma/52exhibitions. 36 of #52exhibitions #MoMAhistory #tbt
I’ve got all these half-baked AU ideas, but not enough energy to pursue them, so I’m setting them free in hopes someone can use them to jumpstart their own creative process. :) Just give me credit for initial spark, and show me what you do for them!
The Morrison is one of the most top-of-the-line dreadnaughts in the navy, but there’s a rumour it’s cursed–the ship’s been losing captain after captain. Gabriel Reyes, decorated veteran of the Omnia-Terran War, is assigned to the Morrison in hopes that he’ll break the failing streak.
He has luck with ships, after all–he turned the Deadeye from an unruly pirate ship into a formidable interceptor, and salvaged Sparrow when everyone else though the AI was too damaged beyond repair. Surely he can sweet-talk a dreadnaught into doing its job properly.
And of course, it’s not like there’s much on the line. Gabriel’s died once. He’ll be able to handle it if a treacherous ship makes it happen again.
Jesse’s a bounty hunter with the Sparrow as his trusty (and snarky) companion. He found the scrapped ship in a junk heap with AI still intact, and earned its trust through the rebuilding process. It still won’t tell him how a Shimada interceptor ship ended up in a backwater scrap yard, but that’s okay–Jesse wouldn’t trade his ornery little ship for the world.
Wings are sorta like daemons, in that they give an insight into your personality/fate, with the caveat that they’re also usually location/heritage specific (ie you’re not gonna get white people with tropical bird wings).
Jack’s got red-tailed hawk wings because they’re in Indiana, and they’re sorta an everyman kind of bird–not patriotic like a bald eagle, but almost everyone in the USA knows those hawks or has heard of them. I also liked the “hawk noise substituted for actual eagle noise” thing that happens in movies, since to me it somehow suggests the figurehead the UN wants him to be (if he actually is or not is another story).
Gabe’s got crow wings (though he lies and says they’re raven wings to make them sound more impressive). They’re clever birds. Such clever, clever birds. Fits tactician Gabe to a t. Crows will also attack things much bigger/dangerous than they are. And they’re little shits.
I also had the idea that Fareeha’s original wings were cut off and replaced with the Raptora suit’s rockets/wings. To be a Raptora pilot, you can’t have your wings out there, you need to be integrated with the suit. I thought it was a good way to symbolize her commitment to JUSTICE and also provide a nice little knife-twist to how Ana never wanted her to be part of a war, and yet Fareeha found a way to be forever marked by it.
Reinhardt has swan wings because those things are meant to carry a lot of weight, and they look ornamental (like Reinhardt) but they will mess you up (also like Reinhardt).
Genji had sparrowhawk wings. He’s wingless post-Hanzo, and struggles a lot with the loss of his flight.
Jesse has the wings of a California Condor. I liked the mirror of their almost-extinction and then successful reintroduction to Jesse’s journey of rehabilitation by Gabriel. They’re surprisingly fast (56 mph!). And those wings are massive, which means Jesse can carry Genji around without effort. “The condor is a significant bird to many Californian Native American groups” according to Wikipedia, so I figure it’s also a nice nod to Jesse being mixed with indigenous groups. (I don’t really know who lives down there, so I’m keeping it vague. Please remember to do research if you want to go more in depth than a nod.)
Hana has skua wings. They’re migratory (calls to when she eventually leaves S.Korea to join Overwatch) and predatory, and I liked that they’re seabirds since she fights the kaiju-omnic in the sea. They’re also apparently pretty agile and they pass through s.Korea, so it fits with my "regional/heritage” rule.
Lucio’s wings are some sort of parrot, I think a macaw or something. Pretty and loud and smart and entertaining and fun to have around. And They can snap through bone with their beaks (incidentally, in daemon au his daemon is a macaw for the same reason).
Hanzo is a goshawk since they’re known to eat other, smaller raptors (like sparrowhawks).
“You’ll like this one then. It’s about a grief mad ship which abducts
an unremarkable miner pilot thinking she’s its long-dead captain. Hilarious, yet heart-tugging misunderstandings ensue.”
Four: The Gerentate
Mercy of Amaat,
Lieutenant’s mess hall.
SESK is sat at a table, attended by AMAAT ONE.
I’ve told you time and time again, you delusional heap of junk! I’m
ONE: Really, Captain, you mustn’t say such things. If only
Lieutenant Tam would wake up, she could examine you. You really must
Your Lieutenant is a mummified corpse!
ONE: Her implants are still reporting normal vital signs.
Her implants are in a bucket!
ONE: Please, Captain, just calm down and drink some tea. The Presger
ships have stopped pursuing us.
ONE hands ARIAT a bowl of tea. ARIAT takes it, grimacing.
(muttering) Those were asteroids.
Look, what do I have to do to convince you?
ONE: Begging your very great indulgence, Captain, but you can’t
convince me of something that’s patently untrue.
(sighs) Look, at the very least we need to take on a new Lieutenant,
yes? Even if Lieutenant Tam’s implants report that she’s in good
health, I’m not comfortable with her having slept for… How long
is it, Ship?
ONE: Four hundred and three years, six months, fourteen days.
That doesn’t strike you as at all unusual?
ONE: It is contrary to regulations. She has missed one hundred and
forty-seven thousand, two hundred and eighty-nine shifts.
I would like her examined by another
trained medic. So we must put in at a palace station. Which is
ONE: Tstur palace is two weeks and one day distant.
Set course, then.
ONE: Very good, Captain.
to: Mercy of Amaat,
SESK is in the Captain’s chair, attended by AMAAT ONE.
What’s that over there? Magnify.
view-screen shows a Sword. Zoom in to hull markings, reading Sword
A Sword! Amaat be praised! Ship, open a channel. I want to speak to
lights go dim, sirens sound.
Captain, it’s a Gerentate Banner-ship! We won’t be able to gate
unless it’s destroyed!
What?! No, you malfunctioning bucket of scrap, it’s Sword
Your eyes must be playing tricks on you, Captain. Launching missiles!
Varden’s suppurating cuticles!
ROLL OPENING CREDITS
O Captain, my Captain, where have
I found you again, but you
claimed to be dead!
Surely the battle has made you
For your implants, I see, are not
in your brain!
Lie down on the table, and as
soon as I’m able,
I’ll open you up and connect
you to meee…
O Captain, my Captain, why do you
ARIAT: (shouted, distant) Stay away
from me, you psychotic trash pile!
Hello your blog makes me lol so please make an "exo as your project mate"
- the sweetest project mate to get
- he’ll be shy whenever he’s paired with someone and he’ll always say “I’ll do my best so we’ll get a good grade!”
- you always seem to be taking the lead in the project but that’s because he’s usually quietly taking notes and nodding his head as you discuss (you need to prompt him to hear his opinions and ideas)
- he’s always got such great ideas when he speaks
- he has beautiful handwriting and presentation designing skills, the end project will be detailed and beautifully presented
- you won’t catch him presenting, it’ll be you (he’ll be your moral support)
- always treats you to coffee and muffins each study session
- everyone wants him as their partner
- if you’re paired with, you’re guaranteed in getting a distinction
- very open to ideas and discussions and listens very well
- takes the lead in forming the project and discusses with you which parts you want to do
- if you don’t want to speak or present, he will
- always brings nutritious snacks to meetings or treats you to coffee/tea
- he always makes you included and makes the project fun
- if he finds the topic interesting he’ll be excited and passionate in working on the project with you… if not you’ll most likely be doing most of the research and planning
- either way he’ll help out as much as he can and be a good support
- always plays music when working together, either with his phone or he’ll bring his guitar and sing (it’s sweet but you’ll be a tad annoyed too tbh)
- he’ll occasionally forget to meet with you on days you’re meant to meet and he’ll also sometimes forget to do his allocated part of the project
- it’s no worry though, he’ll make it up by bringing double the material needed the next day
- he’ll also take the lead in presenting, you sometimes have to prompt him of his turn and remind him what the next point is
- your final grade for the project is either a hit or miss with him
- a very enthusiastic partner
- he’s eager to help as much as he can and he seems genuinely excited to work with you
- brings a mini booklet of notes and presentation slide design ideas each time you meet
- is always in awe each time you reach a conclusion together of have the same thoughts
- you visit his house more to do the project because his mum always likes feeding you food
- during breaks you get to hear his compositions and covers
- he has the charisma to lead the presentation on the day while you add quick inputs in between
- he’s fun to work with
- you get really little done each meet up though
- he’ll bring heaps of junk food and soda as well as portable speakers to your house
- he can’t seem to sit still for too long and he gets distracted quite easy, he’ll play on his phone, write, poke you, research on his laptop, eat a packet of chips, poke you, does a bit of karaoke and then does it all over again
- when you’re trying to focus to get everything finished he’ll always end up distracting you whether it’s a dance battle or sing off
- ends up drinking 2-3 cans of energy drink each study session
- on the day of the presentation, he’ll present it all while making everyone laugh
- he’s so pleasant to work with
- you guys always end up doing group study dates with xiumin and his partner
- splits the workload 50/50 but always asks if you would like him to do some of your parts since he doesn’t mind
- always comes with tea and snacks
- draws little cute doodles on your notes
- you always laugh and have a smile on your face after each study session
- you have great chemistry with him throughout the whole project and when it’s time to present you’ll be bouncing points off each other
- he is more work orientated and less on the social side
- anytime you want to talk to him it’ll be virtually
- you can convince him to meet up by offering food
- every time you meet it seems like he did twice as much work as you
- you’re thankful but at the same time you feel a tinge of guilt
- you both finish the project a week earlier than the due date
- you will end up presenting while he stands back ad offers moral support
- he studies well with everyone because everyone loves him
- always late to the study meetups
- forgets to bring his study materials sometimes
- you look up at him occasionally to see how he’s going and sometimes you catch him dozing off
- while he’s awake he can focus and come up with a lot of good discussions
- always brings his babies with him so they’re a good way to re charge your energy and to relax
- always leaves a big mess at the end of each meet up session
- probably not the best person to be paired with
- he’ll do the the most minimum amount of the project possible
- constantly on his phone while you guys meet to work on the project together
- he’ll also constantly pick at your ideas and question why you did it this way and not this way and then go back to his phone and eats your snacks
- you’re this close to writing his name off from the project
- sometimes he doesn’t even show up to the meetups on the date and time you both agreed on because he “forgot”
- you end up presenting too because let’s be honest, he’ll have no idea what the project was about and he wouldn’t know what to say as he did minimum to nil of the research
Summary: When your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself stranded, although an intimidating and oddly secretive stranger soon comes to your rescue.
Word Count: 1,559.
A/N: Ethan hasn’t been getting any love on my blog recently, so here’s a little something. I actually wrote this for my English class and I thought one of the twins would suit the male character, so that’s how that idea came to be. Please let me know what you think, I’ll consider a part two, but I always say that and I never write part twos, so…
(not my gif.)
You never had much hope from the beginning— your first mistake was putting all of your trust in your father’s battered Ford that he owned in the nineties and had so kindly passed down to you. It was a surprise it had even lasted so far, this far from home.
So when the engine began you click with protest, you had no other option but to pull over to the side of the road and let it die. You twisted the ignition a couple of times, but, unsurprisingly, to no avail.
Cursing under your breath, you stepped out of your tin can of a vehicle and onto the gravelly road, the sun’s ruthless rays immediately beating down on your skin, threatening to fry you.
You had many regrets. Forgetting sun screen was one of them, but in that moment, you had bigger problems. Much bigger.
Desert surrounded you. Bare grasslands stretched for miles and miles to the horizon in every direction until they met a range of monstrous peaks. There was not a single sign of life, other than the grasshoppers that played their rattly songs simultaneously. Aside from that, there were no cars in sight on the long, never-ending road you were caught on. Route 50— America’s loneliest road.
You made you way to the front of the car, flipping open the hood. Your brain suddenly ached as you stared at the inside of the vehicle and attempted to figure out what each of the parts were for, but it was useless— you may as well have been solving one of Einstein’s theories. You reached into the pocket of your denim shorts and pulled out your phone. It was full of battery, but that didn’t matter when, in the top left corner of the screen, small letters spelled out ’no service’.
You groaned out, slamming the hood of the car shut and climbing back into the driver’s seat. You were in need of a miracle— actually, you needed more than a miracle.
The next two and a half hours consisted of you sitting there, drowning in your sweat and keeping an eye out for any sort of help. The sticky heat and the sound of dead silence and the isolation were putting you on the verge of losing your mind. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait before you started to get hallucinations.
You contemplated walking to the nearest gas station, but then you remembered how you had passed a sign not far back that said the next gas station wasn’t for another 130 miles, so that was no option.
Then, you got your miracle.
What seemed to be a rusty pickup truck came zipping down the road, nearing you slowly. You scrambled out of the car, your arms flying into the air as you began to frantically flail them around.
As the truck approached you, you noticed wasn’t slowing down. Your arms came back down to your sides and you waited to watch your miracle slip through your fingers, but then, the truck swerved abruptly and came to a halt beside you.
The driver rolled down his window and revealed himself— a young, handsome face. He had dark features, hair and eyes, and the scruff on his face was short, yet neatly trimmed. He was almost familiar, but not a ‘someone you used to know’ familiar, more like an ‘I swear I’ve seen your face on TV’ familiar, which made you knit your eyebrows together in concentration.
“Where ya headed?” the man questioned. You easily recognised that he had a slight New Jersey accent.
“Hollywood,” you replied. “My car broke down.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but it’s nothing but a heap of junk now. Hop in. I’m headed for San Diego.”
“Don’t you have a toolkit or something?” you questioned, taken aback by how forward he was. You were taught never to trust strangers, but this stranger was your only hope. Perhaps you’d have to make an exception.
“No,” was all he responded with. “So either get in, or stop wasting my time.”
You hesitated for a moment, before deciding to make your way to the passenger side and hopping in. “You don’t have to be so mean about it,” you grumbled. The smell of cigarettes mixed with sweat and alcohol immediately filled your nose, and you had a sudden urge to throw up. Somehow you kept it down.
Once you had gotten inside the car, you found that the man was wearing a neat, polished and rather expensive-looking suit, making him all the more attractive. It made you frown, but you were too intimidated to ask him why he was so dressed up if he was in the middle of nowhere.
After a short silence, the man spoke up.
“So, Hollywood, huh?”
His question caught you off guard. “Oh, uh, yeah. I wanna be an actress. My parents wanted me to stay in college and become a surgeon, so one night I just left,” you explained. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”
“You know, a lot of people don’t make it in Hollywood.”
“I know, but I want to be in the small amount that do.”
He scoffed. You received that reaction a lot, people telling you that you were delusional and that it was too big of a risk, but you had learned to ignore them and to simply focus. You believed in yourself. You could make it.
More silence settled between you. You wanted to ask the man questions, but you feared that he’d kick you out of the truck if you did, so you kept your mouth shut and your eyes stayed glued to the barren landscape outside of your window. Until, that is, you decided to ask for his name. It was nothing intrusive, nothing that would give away anything about him.
“Ethan,” he told you. You didn’t notice it, but his eyes darted to your smooth, silky legs and trailed up your body. He licked his lips at the sight; once again, something you failed to notice.
“How come you’re going to San Diego?” you asked, attempting to continue the conversation.
“It’s not important.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, but only brushed off his vague reply.
“You far from home?” Ethan asked you.
“Yeah, I’m from Chicago.”
Ethan let out a low whistle.
“You had such a good life ahead, and you just threw it away?”
“I still have a good life ahead, for your information. And it’s none of your business to tell me about my life,” you huffed, feeling your cheeks grow red, and not because of the heat outside. “Does this thing have AC?”
“Nope. Already checked, sweetheart,” Ethan told you, stopping you from fumbling around with the controls.
“What about a radio?”
“Doesn’t work either.”
“Sheesh,” you mumbled, stretching your legs onto the dash of the car and making yourself comfortable. It was the least you could do, since you knew you had a long trip ahead.
Soon, you were approaching a diner, the first sign of life either of you had seen in a long while. Ethan parked the car in the small lot and didn’t bother to wait for you before entering the small, colourful building which was surprisingly busy for its location.
Ethan kept his head down as he made his way towards a booth to the back and you followed, both of you sliding into the seats. He was receiving odd, subtle stares and as a result, a tight feeling rose to your chest. You ignored it, however, and distracted yourself by reading the menu. You hadn’t realised how hungry you were until every option seemed like the most appetising thing.
Ethan’s eyes were flickering up ever so often. Not at you, but around the diner.
“The buffalo wings sound good,” you said, in an attempt to reassure yourself that nothing was going on.
“Yeah, sure,” Ethan mumbled his reply, slumping into his seat.
“Are you okay?” you asked, after finally working up the courage to do so.
“Just making sure the waitress isn’t coming over. I don’t know what I want yet.”
Minutes passed. You had read over the menu at least six times by now, despite already having chosen what you wanted to eat.
Ethan stood up from his seat. “I need to use the bathroom,” he announced.
“Okay,” was all you said.
Everything happened so fast then, that you could hardly comprehend it. First, there was a crash from the front entrance of the diner. You whipped around, almost jumping through the ceiling with fright, to find a small group of police officers, all armed with guns that were pointed straight at Ethan.
“You!” one of the officers roared. “Get on the ground.”
Ethan refused. There was not a single hint of fear on his face, no sign of uneasiness or anything of the sort. He only looked irritated. Was he used to this happening?
Then the realisation hit you. You had seen his face on TV, on the news. He was one half of the infamous Dolan Twins, criminals, known for robbing hundreds of banks all of the country. That explained the suit, and the fact that the truck was most likely stolen, too.
All of a sudden you were shoved under the table by Ethan, who had cocked his own shiny, metal gun. On your way down, you had knocked your head against the edge of the table— hard. You were struggling to see or hear anything but the rapid beating of your heart, and stars dancing in your vision.
The last thing you heard was the sound of men yelling, helpless screams of terror, and shots being fired.
Remember when Aaron collapsed in the woods and Robert straight off trying to kill chas with a small rock was freaking the fuck out and putting his jacket around Aaron and telling the EMTs how to do their job god he was so gone
robert 😌 truest idiot, biggest romantic, absolutely horrible under pressure
imagine robert having to ride in an ambulance with aaron - something that, despite everything, he’s never done
the EMTs would probably threaten to leave him on the side of the road
Imogen Heap | Have You Got It In You? | Speak for Yourself
Been looking through older bands I used to listen to in the past. Ended up finding this song, one I never listened to from this singer. I think it’s a new fav, to be honest.
Listening to this and reading the lyrics though… Something about this song gives me a Craig feeling. Let me see if I can explain it.
Craig is a character that may be easy to see as being flat. He’s built up to be the stereotypical jock-type character in Dream Daddy; he focuses on staying fit and healthy, and most of his dates revolve around this fact in some way or another.
However, you break down his character more, and you see a guy that may seem to be a pinnacle of health, but in actuality seems to be facing a very real chance of having a stroke from the sheer amount of stress he’s constantly in. He focuses so much of his time to be fit, while also being a very active part of his children’s lives, all while balancing his business involving Sports Gear.
From the way his character is shown, it seems like it’s been a very long time since Craig actually had a chance to relax. Perhaps even the last time being before Ashley was pregnant with their twins, as Craig mentions his change in lifestyle choices came about with their birth.
It’s admirable that Craig went from being a guy that seemed incapable of taking care of even himself back in the day, as MC puts it, to a guy that seems more than ready to take on any responsibility that comes his way. But even with his change of lifestyle, he’s still neglecting himself something awful; to the point it seems like a miracle he hasn’t run into any major health issues with how much he has on his plate.
It’s funny; if you experience the gym scene with Craig, just before your first meeting with Hugo, Craig even tells you not to push yourself too much after you end up flying off the treadmill. That it’s not healthy to try and keep up with other’s speed if you aren’t ready to match it.
And yet, he’s doing just that. He’s pushing himself beyond his limit. And if the MC never came back into his life like he did, there’s the very real chance he would’ve learned this far too late.
Because it’s with the MC’s help that he’s able to see that, while he looks to be the picture of health now, his new habits were just as destructive to his well-being like the old ones were in the past.
So, what does this character analysis have to do with how I think the song connects to Craig? Well, it’s all up to interpretation and connections.
It takes a lot, after all. But safety first, don’t push.
I’ll let you guys read the lyrics here below the cut to see if you can come with your own conclusions, or even see anything that I may have missed. If not, well, hope you like this song and character analysis coupled with it. Maybe the song helps build up some ambiance for this, at least, haha!
when you get scared on halloween and ask the boys to come over (guanlin scenario)
A/N: my second scenario on this blog!!! hehe. i wrote this since my first scenario wasn’t of guanlin (even though i started out writing that one as a guanlin scenario), and i really wanted to have a guanlin scenario on my blog, so tada… i… really hope you like this one as well.. ahhhhh idk im so new to this whole writing thing.. anyways hope you enjoy :-)
In hindsight it had probably been a terrible idea to watch a bunch of scary movies while you were at home by yourself on Halloween, if only you’d thought of that before you’d done it. You were normally fine with horror movies, but something about it being Halloween and the house being completely empty just creeped you out.
As a result you decided to call Guanlin and see if he wanted to come over and keep you company. Jaehwan had answered his phone though and that lead to all eleven of them showing up on your doorstep in ridiculous costumes with heaps of junk food and some more movies.
“The party has arrived.” Seongwoo shouted as he walked through your front door.
“Oh my god.” Guanlin groaned, coming to stand beside you while all the other boys made their way into your living room. “I’m sorry about them, they’re all hopped up on sugar and they really wanted to come over.”
You let out a small laugh and shook your head. “It’s fine, seriously, I just didn’t want to be alone.”
“You’re probably going to be re-thinking that decision by the end of the night.” He laughed and you both went and joined all the other guys.
A couple of movies and a whole lot of lollies later you could feel yourself beginning to fall asleep. It was a struggle to try and keep your eyes open enough to focus on the movie so you just gave up and closed them and before you knew it you’d drifted off to sleep.
You were woken again not too long after that when you felt a set of arms wrap around you and lift you from the couch. You managed to open your eyes just a crack and saw that Guanlin was carrying you back to your bedroom.
“Oh hey, you’re awake again.” He said quietly, a small smile making its way onto his face. “Did you want to go back out to the lounge room?”
You shook your head and yawned. “No, I’m probably going to crash again. You can put me down you know, I can walk the rest of the way.”
“Nah.” Guanlin scrunched up his face and shook his head in response. “I’ve got you and we’re almost there anyway.”
He was right, and less than a minute later he gently placed you down on your bed. You’d just crawled under the covers and got yourself comfortable when you felt him fall into the space beside you.
“Do you mind if I stay in here?” He asked, kicking off his shoes without waiting for an answer. “I don’t think the guys intend on going home tonight and if I ever have to share a couch with Jihoon again it will be too soon.”
You stifled a yawn as you nodded and lifted the covers so that he could get in. You barely heard him whisper good night as you once again fell asleep.
When you woke up the next time it was entirely Daehwi’s fault and if you weren’t so tired you might have tried to hit him. You could hear him talking to himself and the light from his phone was on so you put two and two together and figured out that he was probably recording a V Live.
You’d been so irritated at Daehwi for waking you up that at first you didn’t even notice that you were curled into Guanlin’s chest and he had one arm wrapped lazily around your waist. Just when that realization began to truly set in Daehwi burst into the room talking about something before he shoved the camera in Guanlin’s face.
“What have you got to say for yourself, huh Lai?” You managed the catch the end of his sentence.
“Go away Daehwi..” Guanlin mumbled, pulling his arm away from your waist so he could use both his hands to block the light from Daehwi’s phone. “We’re trying to sleep.”
“The two of you were looking awfully cozy, all cuddled up together and such.” He let out a loud laugh and you turned even more into Guanlin’s chest, trying to block him out completely.
“Dude you’re not even making sense, just leave us alone.”
“Fine, whatever, ruin all my fun.” Daehwi complained as he walked out of the room. “You guys are so adorable, it’s gross. I don’t want to see that anyway.”
The door to your room shut with a soft thud and Guanlin let out a loud sigh.
“He’s such an idiot.” He said mostly to himself. “I’m sorry if he woke you up.” The last part was obviously directed at you.
“It’s fine.” You muttered, already beginning to doze off again.
“I - um, is this alright?” He asked, referring to how close the two of you were at the moment. You thought that it was kind of cute that he was so worried.
Instead of responding you placed his arm around you again and moved closer to him.
“Okay, I’ll take that as a yes.” He said before he let out an actual giggle. “Good night.” He whispered once again before kissing your forehead softly.
All in all, despite how bad the night had started off, you had to say that it ended pretty well.
the point of my big text junk heap was that the satire of judge dredd often goes over the heads of people who are normalized to characters who are able to enact extra judicial killings without repercussions
loving duran duran is 50% “this is incredible amazing content and they look really good and i love them so much,” and 50% “they look like gremlins from the junk heap and this is the most questionable live performance ive ever seen and all of this is garbage and i love them so much”
Reno, Nevada’s third biggest city. Yet it’s still so small to me. It’s a sunny as Telavi, but far safer, and it feels more like home to me. Which is strange because I don’t recognize any of the landscape I’m passing through. I realize just how long I’ve been away. Ten years and I feel like being in another city; It’s home but it’s not. Everything has changed, nothing to remind me of what I left here. That’s perfect. It’s another new start; it’ll help me, for sure.
The racing track has changed too. Became all fancy and stuff. I’m not even sure uncle Kameron still works here, haven’t talked to him in years. I’ve been away and cut all ties with my old life for a while. Not that I became bitter or anything, uncle Kam knows I love him. I just needed a pause, a really long one, and they all gave it to me.
The race track looks like the ones you’d find in bigger cities, in France or England. It makes me forget it’s in a 250 000 citizen city. It looks like it was custom-made for a race car superstar. Wow.
“Look at her!” Uncle beams at me, his eyes getting smaller, his face wrinkly and old and beautiful. He’s dressed in his usual black, dirty overalls and a white T-shirt. He lost weight. A lot of it. I preferred him chubby, he was like a big teddy bear. He looks so much older now; I can’t believe I missed out so much.
I smile back at him, spreading my arms wide open for him. He takes me in his arms as the old crew closes in. He’s warp and he smells like cars. I missed him. We hug for a long moment before he lets me go.
“What a tan. Vacations do you good, Siv.” He says proudly, his big hands cupping my face effortlessly. Vacations, he says. Vacations.
“Thank you, Kam.” I reply, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. His eyes are all smiley; he looks happy; my heart is all warm.
“How are you doing, my darling?” He asks softly. The others are listening as well.
“Good.” I reply, honestly. He smiles but says nothing. “Really, I’m fine.”
“Okay.” He says before kissing my cheek. When he retreats, Xavier takes a step forward and squeezes me in his big arms. He’s got older too, but gained weight. He, who I used to call slender man, is in fact a teddy bear.
“Xav.” I say happily, returning his hug. He pulls back and pats my head with both hands in an adoring manner, but his face isn’t smiling.
“If you’re not sure, you can still cancel everything. I’ll talk to Isaac, he’ll take me back, we can wait another season.” He says, and he’s almost pleading. Does he think I’ve left my home of ten years, traveled all these miles just to decide not to do anything?
“Xav, you left your foal for me. I’m not letting you down now.” I declare, putting a hand on his shoulder. He gives me a stern look.
“You were always my foal, Sivan. But don’t do this for me, do it for you.” He murmurs.
“I’ll be fine, Xav.” I moan, not needing to hear the rant he’s been serving me for a week ever since I called to say I was coming back. Closing the subject, I go and hug the other crew members, Elijah, Ronny and Sam. They’ve all aged nicely.
“I’ll go change myself.” I say when we’re done with the hugging and kissing. They all wave at me as I turn on my heels towards the lockers, refraining my trembling legs from running. In my locker, I find a brand new suit. The leather smells like fresh start. It’s white and red, and fits like a glove. I had forgotten just how empowering a racing suit was. Everything has become unfamiliar. I pick up my helmet. It’s really light, surprisingly. I don’t want something that light protecting my brain. Unsure, I bang it on the floor, and it doesn’t break.
Things sure have changed in ten years.
I tie my hair in a ponytail, tuck mu super light yet super solid helmet under my arm and walk out towards the track. Outside, I’m welcomed by the crew under a rain of confetti, clapping and happy whistles. A crowd on fire.
“You guys are the worst.” I laugh, but secretly love it. Uncle Kam snaps a picture, holding up his IPhone 7 I’m sure he doesn’t know how to use.
“You look good, Siv.” He tells me while blinding me with flash. In bright daylight. Xav comes up to me, smiling, and zips me up completely.
“How does it feel?” He asks, putting his hands on his hips. I stretch the fabric a little.
“Warm.” I shrug. My heart is eating fast. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Where’s my car?” I ask impatiently.
“Eli!” Kameron shouts, and I hear the loud roar of an angry engine. I look to the left and see, slowly pulling up at my level, A dark blue Kyosho TS020. It was repainted, I can see that, and there are a few bumps here and there, but it makes the same noise as a purring Lion.
“It’s…” I say, almost choking on my own words, my mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“It took us a while but we managed to put it back together.” Kam says proudly while Elijah gets out of the car.
“And we kept it, waiting for you to come back.” He beams at me. My heart warms and cools at the same time. I’m so happy they rebuilt it, but at the same time I hate it. Rings back too much memories I’ve tried to forget.
“Of course, we changed everything that wasn’t within the standards. It’s a brand new car in the body of the old one.” Elijah ads, leaning against the old jewel. Wow.
“I don’t want it.” I snap, because there is no way this could take me anywhere. “I don’t want to drive this junk heap. Give me your best car.”
“This is our-“
“No, this is bullshit!” I raise my voice. Everything goes silent around me. Everyone has these wide, surprised eyes, expect Kameron; His eyes are disappointed. It’s like he wasn’t even hoping at the first place.
“I’m here to move on, for fuck’s sake!” I remind them. When my eyes start to feel cold, I turn away from them, realizing there are tears in my eyes. There is no fucking way I’m crying on my first day. If I can’t make it today, then I won’t be able to make it at all, and they are trying to ruin it.
“I’m fine.” I snap, letting my tears dry. “Don’t try to make me a wimp, Kameron.” I mutter, turning back around. Uncle looks sad.
“I’m not a crybaby.” I tell everyone.
“No, but you’re human.” Kameron says quietly. I’m not human, I’m a driver.
He sighs and gets in the car, bringing it back to the garage, and comes back a few moments later, driving a crystal clear diamond.
“Bugatti Veyron.” I say to myself, watching the soft beast slowly making its way to me. This is definitely something. I put my helmet on.
The interior is as comfortable as a freaking cloud. Everything is soft and squishy. Wow.
I start the engine and go for a parade lap, zig zagging to heat the tires and test their adhesion. The acceleration is so smoot, I can’t explain it.
“Nice.” I say to myself.
“Don’t try to get crazy just yet.” Xav’s voice rings inside the car. They must have taken place in the booth on the top floor. “Get used to her.”
“Got it.” I reply.
I can’t help but tell myself that if everything feels so new to me, it’s because I’ve left tracks years ago, because my passion stole my happiness. Because, I’m scared to drive again.
“How is it going, Sivan?” This time, it’s Elijah speaking. “Sivan?”
“She’s easy.” I reply, continuing to zig zag, and the ride gets smoother and smoother. I pick up a little bit of speed. I don’t know if I love speed anymore. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.
I hear a noise. The sharp noise of a car coming from afar, another beast roaring behind me.
“Woah, woah, woah, Sivan!” Someone shouts in the mic. I swing the while to the right to close in on the fence while the other car barely misses me. When I realize I’m going to collide with the fence, I swing to the left and push on the brakes, and my car drifts and spins for a moment before coming to a stop.
I open my eyes, breathless and shocked, but not hurt. I’m alive. And I can’t believe this happened on my first day back on the tracks. Fuck! My heart is racing. Who’s the idiot who wen 200 mph while I was at 40? I unbuckle my seat and open the door, my legs feeling wooly. I push myself out of the car and take my helmet off to try and find the fucker who almost killed me.
“Who the fuck did this?!” I yell, throwing my helmet to the floor. I look around and find the car in question parked on the side of the road. There is a man in a dark blue racing suit who is taking his helmet off.
“Hey!” I call. The guy is some young Asian guy with dark brown hair and an arrogant face.
“You almost killed me, you bag of shit!” I shout at him. He hands his helmet over to some tall brunette without looking at her.
“The track is mine during this schedule. You’re not supposed to be here.” His tone is condescending, arrogant, disregarding and irritating. His eyes travel up and down my figure as I stomp towards him.
“Whoever you are.” He mutters when I’m in front of him. I actually can’t believe my fucking ears.
“Yours?” I repeat, snorting. The guy ignores me. He ignores me. He nods towards the submissive brunette how show him an IPad without a words. I snatch in from her hands, forcing them both to actually notice me.
“You try that one more time, and I swear to god, I’ll run you over any chance I get.” I threaten him, seriously. I could kill him if he ever pulled another stunt like that. He blinks at me two times and turns to his brunette.
“Who the fuck is she?” He asks her. The tablet collides with his jaw before I proceed what has happened.
“Sivan!” I hear people calling from behind me. I’ve just punched him with an I pad. The device comes crashing onto the floor, breaking in three, and he stumbles to the side. I watch him, huffing and puffing, my heart still racing furiously from the adrenaline rush.
“My god!” The brunette cries with a-high-pitched voice. The guy straightens up, holding the side of his mouth where he now has a bleeding cut. He takes a look at his bloody fingers and glares up at me. Now the bastard knows me. With a motion of his bloody hand, he summons his slave and she hands him a towel while everyone closes in around us.
“This is the last fucking time you set a foot in here, you hear me?” He declares, surprisingly calmly, while taking a few face towards me so were nose to nose. Well, more like nose to chin. He’s trying to intimidate me; be I am on conquered land. This is my place, my moment, and I’m not fucking with him.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you’re over.” He says to me. His confidence is overwhelmingly funny. He really thinks he’s somebody.
“Yeah, you’ll get my own uncle to ban me from this place.” I mock, crossing my arms over my chest. The guy smirks and wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Kameron can’t ban you from this place.” He concurs. “It’s not his anymore.” He frowns, tilting his head to the side. My face falls as I turn around to look at my uncle for confirmation. At that moment, he lowers his head and looks at the ground, fidgeting with his rug. I turn back to Mr. asshole.
“You just punched the director.” He declares. I should have known his confidence came from somewhere. To a certain degree, he is somebody. And he stole my uncle’s race car school! He took my home from me. My blood starts to boil.
My fist collides with his cheek in a quick, mindful and I hope hard punch. Everyone gasps around me as the guy stumbles back. Hands grab my shoulders and pull me back as I try to come back at him and kick him in the balls.
“Bitch!” He curses, as two gorillas in a white T-shirt and black pants appear.
“Get her out of here!” He orders. The guy has security? What a freaking snob! If he thinks anyone is going to keep me away from my track, gorillas or not, he’s holding his breath and shoving his foot in his own ass.
“Who is he?” I grumble as Kameron places a bag of ice on my knuckles. We sit on the sidewalk in front of the school like two hobos. I’m still in my racing suit. He really did kick me out.
“Mark Tuan. US Champion twice in a row. He’s aiming for worlds this season.” Elijah says, emerging from inside with my bag swung over his shoulder.
“Don’t know him.” I mutter.
“You don’t know anything past 2007.” Uncle Kam snaps. Humph.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I declare, rising and grabbing my bag from Eli’s hand, the bag of eyes falling down to the ground. I swing it over my shoulders and walk back to my car. Mark Tuna whatever… fucking douchebag.
“Where?!” Kameron calls after me. “You’re banned from here.”
I turn around to face him. Never in my life have I been so sure of the words that come of my mouth.
“This place is more mine than his. He’s never taking that away from me.”