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#but people jump on 185 without even listening to it
agnesmontague · 3 years
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extreme fucking salt warning but i sure hope everyone is happy now that they’ve made jonny disclose his personal fears and traumas again to reiterate a fucking point that was clear enough in the episode lmao. i mean this next part with no sarcasm whatsoever but if the podcast is getting too real or uncomfy for you you CAN stop listening. i skip statements all the time for that exact reason. no i dont think jonny’s handled everything perfectly but if you were going to get pissed at him for messing up then 185 is a depressingly predictable place for the fandom to get hung up on bc it really shows some people can’t even handle the depiction of certain themes 
white americans don’t interact with this post to clown actually 
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bbq-hawks-wings · 5 years
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I want to express an unpopular opinion. I hope for your understanding, because such things don't like to listen. Why does everyone think that Hawks is a bird? I couldn' fit my logical arguments into the askbox :( (about how he sits on a pole "like a bird", supposedly likes jewelry and so on). Even his quirk is called Fierce Wings, not a Hawk, not a Red Bird. Do you remember the names of the quirks of Hound Dog and Tsuyu-chan? We haven't evidence to believe that Hawks is behaves like a bird.
I do believe very much he’s a bird, and if you would let me friend, I would love to try and prove it to you because I think the evidence is overwhelming. I’ll make a TL;DR at the end but I’d really like to take the opportunity to perhaps teach others at least one method for literary analysis since it can be a really dry and boring subject to learn in school but is SO useful not only for getting good grades but getting into colleges as well as interpreting both entertainment and genuinely important information like the news, history, laws, and scientific papers. Using fiction - especially such a rich, engaging one like HeroAca - is a great way to try it out without the pressure of a grade. I don’t have the qualifications to teach in any formal capacity, but as a “peer” tutor I hope I can be helpful.
I’m going to put everything under the cut from here because this is going to get LONG, but I promise the TL;DR at the end will be very easy to read. If you liked this sort of unofficial tutorial please let me know. I’d love to help make “academic” skills like this more accessible for those who might benefit from it and enjoy it, but it doesn’t make sense to put in all that effort moving forward if I’m garbage at it.
Before we get too into things, I want to lay out a few notes to keep in mind as we go.
I will only be using the official translations from Viz’s Shonen Jump website when available. Fan translations are more than close enough to casually enjoy and follow the story, but professional translators are paid to know and get various nuances correct and some of the trickier cultural background behind certain phrases (for example, the phrase “where the rubber meets the road” might make zero sense in a foreign language if translated literally, so an equal cultural phrase should be used instead) that give more exact information. Rarely is this too important, but sometimes it helps, plus it supports the source material.
If you’ve followed my blog for a while you might know I’m very fond of doing this kind of thing in my spare time and that I’m a huge fan of YouTube channels like Game/Film Theory, Overly Sarcastic Productions, Extra Credits, and Wisecrack that do this kind of thing with popular media as well. If you like this sort of content, may I encourage you to check them out after this to see how else you can apply these kinds of analytical skills to things that aren’t homework.
My writing style tends to meander, but I do my best to cut out the fat and only include relevant information so even though there’s a lot of information here, please know that I’m trying to be thorough and explain things to the best of my ability. If I seem to go off on a tangent, I’m trying to set up or contextualize information to explain why it’s relevant and then come back to the point. In other words, please be patient and bear with me as I go.
Now, to start, I want to explain at least my method for analyzing a text/piece of media. There is a set order and number of steps to take, and it’s as follows:
Read the material all the way through.
Come up with a hypothesis about something you’ve noticed when reading it. (In this case, it’s “Is Hawks actually supposed to be a bird?”)
Collect as much relevant information as possible and test the evidence to see if it supports the hypothesis we’ve made.
Step back and look at everything again with those points in mind.
Determine if we were right or wrong with the evidence we have.
If we were wrong, go back to step 3 to figure out what fell apart and see if we need to go back to step 2.
If that sequence sounds familiar it’s because it’s the scientific method! Aha, didn’t think we’d be pulling science into all this, did you? Don’t worry, we won’t be putting numbers or formulas anywhere near this discussion - the scientific method is just a way we can observe something and test if what we thought about it is actually true; and it applies to almost everything we as humans can observe - from the laws of the universe, to arts and crafts, to philosophy and religion, and so on! When you think about it that way, whole new possibilities can open up for you when it comes to understanding how the world works.
So with that set let’s (finally) begin!
Steps 1 and 2 are already done. We’ve read the manga and want to prove that Hawks is a bird. (We’re going to try and prove he IS a bird because in the context of the series there’s a lot that *isn’t* a bird and less stuff that *is* which will make our job easier.) So now, we’re onto: 
Step 3 - collect data and see what conclusions we can get just from our evidence.
Now, to pause again (I know, bear with me!) there’s a few different kinds of information and considerations we have to keep in mind as we collect. There are four kinds of information that are important to know about in order to determine if it’s good data that will help us with the testing phase in Step 4. The kinds of information to keep in mind are:
Explicit information - this is information that is directly spelled out for us. For example, Hawks says, “I like my coffee sweet.” and his character sheet says “Hawk’s favorite food is chicken.” That’s all there is to it, and it’s pretty hard to argue with. This is the easiest type of info to find.
Implicit information - this is info that isn’t directly spelled out but is noticeable either in the background or as actions, patterns, or behaviors that can be observed. For example, Hawks has mentioned in at least three very different places his concerns over people getting hurt while he tries to get in with the League:
Chapter 191 when confronting Dabi about the Nomu he says, “You said you’d release it in the factory on the coast, not in the middle of the damn city!”
Chapter 191 again in a flashback with the Hero Commission he asks, “What about the people who might be hurt while I’m infiltrating the League?”
Chapter 240 when discovering how much influence and power the League has gained, “If someone had taken down the League sooner, all those good citizens wouldn’t have had to die!”
Hawks never says in so many words, “I never want innocent people to get hurt under any circumstances!” but the pattern of behavior and concern is consistent enough to form a pattern and clue us in that this is a key part of his character to keep in mind.
Peripheral information - this is information that isn’t directly to do with Hawks or maybe even the series as a whole but is still relevant to keep in mind for his character and the questions we’re asking. This may include extra content that isn’t the “series” proper, but is still an official source like interviews with Horikoshi, etc. but it can go even further. For example, while we try to prove that he’s a bird, we should have some knowledge about what makes a bird a bird, some specific and notable birdlike habits/behaviors/features, etc. This is just to show how wide-ranging we need to cast our informational net.
Contextual information - this will be important when we get to Step 4, but it’s good to keep in mind now. This is when we compare evidence against the broader scope of the series and consider the circumstances under which we find the information. For example, if I told you, “Harry kicked a dog.” you might think “What a jerk! What decent person kicks a dog?”; but if I said, “Harry kicked a dog while trying to keep it from biting his kid.” suddenly it re-frames the story. “Is the kid ok? Why was that dog attacking? Harry put himself in danger to keep his kid safe - what a great dad!”
I’ll go chronologically to make it easier to follow my evidence as I gather and give references as to where I found that information. I’ll go through the manga first, and then any peripheral sources that are either direct informational companions to the series (like character books or bonus character information sheets) and interviews with Horikoshi. Please note the categories these details fall into may vary based on opinion/interpretation, but I did my best to list them out for reference.
Chapter 185 - Explicit Type: Feathered wings - regardless of the specifics of his quirk it’s undeniable his wings are made up of feathers which is a distinctly birdlike quality. There are many mythical creatures and even dinosaurs that also have feathered wings, but this is our first big piece of evidence.
Chapter 186 - Peripheral Type: Large appetite - birds have an incredibly fast metabolism because flying takes so much energy. They’re constantly eating. Plenty of young men are big eaters, but it was specifically pointed out and works towards our hypothesis so we’ll keep it in our back pocket for now.
Chapter 186 - Implicit/Peripheral Type: Fantastic vision - Hawks senses the Nomu coming before the audience even is able to make out what’s headed their way. It could be implied his wings caught it first, which might be the case, but he looks directly at the Nomu and brings Endeavor’s attention to it. Birds have fantastic long-range vision, especially birds of prey that mainly swoop in from high in the air to ambush highly perceptive prey. Also good to add to the pile.
Chapter 192 + Volume 20 Cover - Implicit/Peripheral type: Wears jewelry and bright colors - birds are well documented to be drawn to bright colors and are known for decorating their nests with trinkets. Scientists actually have to be careful when tagging birds with tracking bracelets because they can accidentally make him VASTLY more popular with the ladies by giving him a brightly colored band to the point they can’t resist him! Male birds are also known for having bright, colorful displays for attracting and wooing mates. While Hawks isn’t the only male character to wear jewelry in the series, he’s the only one (to my recollection) that wears as MUCH jewelry so often both during and outside of work. It may not be obvious, but the illustration on Volume 20 is actually an advertisement for his line of (presumably) luxury jewelry. In other words, Hawks on some level is synonymous with style and flair to the point he can make money by selling jewelry with his name on it.
Chapter 20 Volume Cover - Explicit Type: Hawk emblem on the watch face - If the name “Hawks” didn’t give it away, he’s very clearly trying to align himself with more avian qualities if his merch has bird motifs. In other words Hawk = “Hero Hawks” and “Hero Hawks” = bird.
Chapter 192, 244, clear file illustration - Peripheral Type: birdlike posture. Chapter 244 isn’t quite released yet on the official site as of writing this, but when Hawks swoops in and beats the kids to the punch apprehending the criminals trying to subdue Endeavor, his hands are clenched in a very talon-like manner similar to a swooping eagle. When walking with Endeavor in 192, he holds his resting hand in a similar fashion. On the clear file illustration he’s not only perched on his tippy toes in a pose that has been famously called “owling” (remember that trend/meme, y’all?) but his wings are slightly outstretched to catch the breeze to keep from falling over which a lot of birds can be seen doing when they don’t have great purchase on a surface in a place that’s a little windy. The fact that he seems to gravitate to high places like birds are often seen doing might also be a noteworthy indication.
Extra sources:
Hawks Shifuku: Horikoshi describes Hawks as a “bird person” and says that his initial design was based off of Takahiro from his old manga. 
Takahiro’s design:
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Current character design: The banner image on my blog was commissioned from a friend of mine who doesn’t follow the series. When I showed her reference images of Hawks, you know what she said? “Oh! His hair is feathers!” Even his eyebrows have that fluffy/scruffy texture to them that his hair has. The markings on his eyes can also be seen on him as a young child in Chapter 191 which means it isn’t makeup meant to tie in a theme or look. He has those dark, pointed eye markings like many birds do. So on some genetic level he resembles a bird.
Step 4: Testing our hypothesis with the gathered evidence.
There’s already a lot of compelling evidence that already closely aligns him to birds which is promising. However, to really prove our point we should try to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt he is a bird. To do that this time around I’m going to see how the series treats people with animal-based quirks and see if it’s consistent with the way Hawks is portrayed.
You bring up Hound Dog and Tsuyu, and they’re fantastic examples. Let’s start with Hound.
He’s pretty straight forward - he’s like a dog. He has a dog face, has dog-like tendencies, and dog-like abilities. Superpower: dog.
And in Tsuyu’s case - quirk: frog, just frog. She’s stated explicitly to have frog-like features, frog-like tendencies, have frog-like abilities, and even comes from a “froggy family.”
So with these two very explicitly animal-like characters the common theme seems to be “If they’re considered to be like a specific animal, they have to physically resemble that animal, act like that animal at times, and have abilities like that animal.” Let’s see if another animal-quirk character matches up and then put Hawks to the test.
Spinner’s quirk is Gecko. Based on our criteria, is he a gecko?
Does he look like a gecko, even vaguely? 
Yes, he’s covered head to toe in scales, and his face is very lizard-like.
Does he occasionally act like a gecko? 
Unclear. We haven’t really seen any evidence of this, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t. For the sake of our argument, we’ll just say no and move on.
Does he have gecko-like abilities?
 Yes! Though most of his abilities are limited to things like being able to stick to walls, it’s still gecko-like in origin and qualifies.
Spinner hits clearly hits ⅔ criteria and our standards seem pretty consistent, so let’s see how Hawks stands up.
Does he look like a bird? 
Not all of his features may explicitly scream “avian” at first, but upon closer observation and with his clear previous inspiration this is a resounding yes.
Does he act like a bird? 
Many of the mannerisms and behaviors he displays can just be chalked up to him being a little eccentric, but with the sheer number of them that also parallel birds in some way this is also a pretty convincing yes.
Does he have bird-like abilities? 
While most of the emphasis is on his wings and what they can do, it does seem that he not only possesses things like heightened senses which could be attributed to avian abilities but he also very much possess high intelligence and incredibly fast reaction times which birds are also known for.
Even if we only gave Hawks a “maybe/half a point” for those last two, he still meets the 2⁄3 that Spinner did. So we have another question to ask: Does a character have to have an explicitly named “animal” quirk to be considered to be/resemble a specific animal? Let’s look at Ojirou and Tokoyami for reference.
Ojirou’s quirk is just “tail,” but he’s been described by his peers and classmates as a monkey and does seem to share some more monkey-like features. It isn’t lumped in with his quirk because the only notable monkey-like quality he possesses is a tail. He doesn’t have fangs or an opposable toe - he just has a tail. For quirk classification as far as hero work goes, that’s the only important thing to note.
Tokoyami, on the other hand has an entire literal bird head, but nothing else. He has a beak, feathers, and even in illustrations of him as a baby he had fluffier feathers on his head. Even with only those details, he just screams “bird!” However, his quirk is classified as “Dark Shadow” because that’s what sets him apart for hero work.
Back at Hawks we see his quirk classified as “fierce wings” but like Ojirou and especially like Tokoyami, the emphasis on his wings is what sets his abilities as a hero apart. Otherwise, he’s just a guy who looks and acts a LOT like a bird.
But astute observers may have noticed I’ve left out a detail that’s more or less a nail in the coffin on the whole matter, so let me ask a question: Tsuyu in particular has something else of note that solidifies in our minds that she is, indeed, a frog - she explicitly calls herself a frog. Could we say the same about Hawks?
Chapter 199 - Explicit Type
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Bingo. Hawks has known himself for as long as he’s been alive. He knows his habits, his impulses, his family/genes, and so on. If he calls himself a bird, are we going to call him a liar? In fact, he calls himself a bird not once, but twice!
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That’s pretty much it. With the evidence stacked to that degree, I’d be hard pressed to NOT believe he’s a bird.
That was a long amount of text to get through, so if you’re here at the end thank you for sticking out with me to this point. I really appreciate it. This is more or less the process I use when analyzing anything and everything whether it be HeroAca related or not. Maybe it’ll help you if you’ve struggled with literary analysis, or at the very least I hope you got some enjoyment out of it.
TL;DR If Hawks looks like a bird, walks (acts) like a bird, is based on a bird (character), and calls himself a bird, he’s probably a bird.
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20.,things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear?also i love your blog💘
(Thank you for your patience, nonnie-chan! This one took a while, but I’m really happy with the results. As I said before, I had wanted to do a fic like this for a while, so I wanted to be very careful to give it the time and effort it deserved. Thank you for waiting and for your compliments ^^ I’m so happy you love my blog.
This fic can also be found on Ao3, but as tumblr tends to eat posts with links, I’ll make a separate post for it. Also, this is based on the movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. It’s really good!)
185/365: Never-Ending Moonlight
I don’t want to forget.
Ryuunosuke’s eyes open blearily. On his bedside table, his alarm beeps, inviting him to wake to an overcast day and piles of snow.
He sits up, shutting off his alarm, rubbing his eyes. He feels more tired than usual, but he doesn’t remember doing anything strenuous yesterday. Or was that what he didn’t want to forget?
With a groan, he throws his covers off and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He doesn’t remember what he didn’t want to forget, of course, making the morning confusing enough without what appear to be tear stains down his cheeks, which he sees once he looks in the mirror.
Ryuu frowns at his reflection. He never cries. He hasn’t cried since he was a child, abandoned on the city sidewalk like a discarded toy, his confused younger sister gripping his hand.
He had grown up quickly.
He sighs. He turns the sink on, washes the tears off his face, combs his hair. He can’t spend the entire morning trying to remember what he didn’t want to forget, and soon the thought’s gone as if it had been washed down the drain.
As he puts his shoes on, he sees that the shelf near the door looks empty, sparse. There’s an open space in the middle that looks like it would be a good place for a couples’ photo.
Ryuu frowns a bit. He moves things around briefly, eliminating the empty space. He doesn’t need any reminders that he’s single.
Standing at the train station, his scarf pulled over the lower half of his face, Ryuu waits in the middle of the bustling crowd. Snow drifts down from the sky again, and the people around Ryuu grumble at it. He closes his eyes and listens, listens to their words, listens to the crunch of snow beneath dozens of feet, listens to the train arriving on the platform below, bound for the coast.
His eyes open. He doesn’t know what prompts him to movie. Maybe he needs a change, a break from his work. But emotion he can’t explain get the better of him, and before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s moving, running, sprinting, nearly slipping down stairs. The coast. He has to go to the coast today.
Ryuu isn’t sure why. He isn’t sure why he rushes onto that train car before the doors close. He isn’t sure why he’s going in the complete opposite direction of where he should be going, to work, to his job.
Maybe it has something to do with that thing he can’t remember that he didn’t want to forget.
Even this early in the morning, the ports of Yokohama are already noisy, with people shouting back and forth, crates being unloaded, and cargo ships blaring their horns. Ryuu finds a small diner near the train station, away from the noise, but with a view of the ocean outside the window.
He orders an omelette. Something simple, but a breakfast that he rarely gets the chance to have. Not many patrons sit in the diner’s booths, as many people have undoubtedly already begun their jobs, excluding a few elders and a young man sitting a few seats down from Ryuu.
By chance, their eyes meet, and Ryuu quickly looks down at his breakfast. He thinks he hears the other man give a small huff of a laugh. His cheeks red, Ryuu bites into his omelette like he could blame it for the unwelcome feelings stirring in his chest like trapped birds, fluttering around his ribcage and crashing into his heart.
Why do I fall in love with every cute guy I see?
He’s out of there sooner than he’d like, and yet, not soon enough, leaving behind a silver-haired man with bright eyes.
His feet carry him aimlessly, down the coastline and through busy streets. He pauses at the ocean a few times, watches the ships move, listens to the ocean lap at the rocks below. Winds blow in and cause him to tighten his scarf around his face.
Around lunch, he sees him again. That silver-haired man with wide eyes. He stands at the same bus stop as Ryuu, who’s only there because he wanted to get out of the wind. The other man’s on his phone, typing away with fingerless gloves, not looking up until the bus arrives. As if being led by the pull of a magnet, Ryuu follows him on board.
Outside, Yokohama’s gray sky does little to dull the colors of the city’s many shops and people. Ryuu barely notices them. His attention in focused on the man in front of him, the one with silver hair, the one nodding to the beat of whatever song’s playing through his headphones.
The man suddenly looks behind him, and Ryuu looks away just as quickly. But he’s been noticed.
“Hey.”
Ryuu looks up. The man smiles at him in a polite, friendly way. Ryuu doesn’t respond, so the other man speaks up again. “You were the guy in the diner, right?”
Ryuu nods.
The man with silver hair turns more, resting his arms on the back of his seat, facing Ryuu. “I’m Nakajima Atsushi.” He introduces himself so quickly, so fearlessly.
Ryuu’s sunk further into his seat without realizing it. Normally, he wouldn’t have a problem with not saying anything and coming off as rude, but Nakajima draws an answer out of him with one look from those sparkling eyes of his. Oh…They’re two colors. Purple and gold, like miniature sunsets.
“Akutagawa Ryuunosuke,” he says, bowing his head a little once.
Nakajima’s smile doesn’t waver. “I’d never seen you at the diner before. Are you new around here?” Ryuu nods again.
“I’m from a different district,” he says quietly. Nakajima tilts his head.
“So you’ve never been to Tanizaki’s?” he asks. When Ryuu shakes his head, Nakajima’s wonderful eyes widen. “You have to go there for lunch. They have the best ochazuke.”
Ryuu shrugs a bit. Ochazuke sounds good; he hasn’t had a bowl in a while. “Where is it?” He asks.
Nakajima gives a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you,” he says quickly, but he suddenly ducks behind the seat a little bit at his own words, like he realized how straightforward he had been. “That is… If you don’t mind going with me. I would completely understand if you didn’t want to.”
Ryuu’s cheeks have become red again, so he pulls his scarf over his nose and looks to his side, out the window, away from Nakajima’s bicolor eyes. “... I don’t mind,” he says. From the corner of his eye, he sees Nakajima’s smile return.
They spend lunch together. The cafe’s styled traditionally, and its ochazuke really is as good as Nakajima said. He eats two bowls in the time it takes Ryuu to eat one.
They spend the afternoon together. Nakajima shows Ryuu his favorite park, and Ryuu buys him a balloon, partly as a joke, but Nakajima ties it around his wrist and keeps it there for the rest of the day.
They spend the evening together. They walk along the docks, in areas where they’re probably not allowed to be, behind old warehouses and around rusty fences. While exploring like children, they talk. Ryuu talks about his position as an executive in a stuffy company. Nakajima talks about his job as an assistant to a private eye.
“That sounds more interesting than my job,” Ryuu says, climbing over crates in a crumbling storage building. From the top of the pile, swinging his legs over the side, Nakajima huffs.
“You’d think so,” he sighs, “But my boss hardly ever does his paperwork, so while he’s off on cases, I’m left to sort through his files.”
Ryuu hums in understanding as he finally reaches the top, sitting next to Nakajima on the large crate. From up there, they can see the moon through the worn, broken panels of the warehouse’s roof.
“I guess you were off today,” Ryuu says. Nakajima chuckles sheepishly.
“About that… I ditched.”
Ryuu turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type,” he points out. Nakajima shoves him a bit, playfully, but hard enough to make Ryuu wonder if his companion doesn’t know his own strength.
“You’ve only known me a day,” he says, apparently not noticing as Ryuu grips the side of the crate a bit harder than before and rubs his shoulder. “Besides, Dazai-san ditches me all the time. It’s about time he got a taste of his own medicine.”
Ryuu watches as Nakajima leans back, laying his back flat against the crate, possibly getting splinters in his hair and jacket. In the small amount of time he’s known Nakajima, Ryuu knows him well enough to assume that he doesn’t care if he gets dirty.
“What about you?” Nakajima asks, peering over at Ryuu. “You weren’t off either, were you?”
Ryuu purses his lips, turning away from Nakajima, pulling his scarf over his nose again, and Nakajima laughs a little. “Knew it.”
“I didn’t plan to skip today,” Ryuu says in his defense. “It mostly just happened.”
Nakajima sighs, watching clouds drift across the night sky. “Same here,” he says. He turns to Ryuu again, smiling, and his eyes are soft as he says to him, “Maybe it’s fate then? Destiny?”
Nakajima’s expression sends Ryuu’s heart into overdrive, but he takes slow breaths, laying down beside him and turning his gaze to the sky.
“I’m not sure it matters how we met,” he says quietly, trying not to jump in the air when he feels Nakajima’s fingers brush his own. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”
He looks beside him, and Nakajima’s still smiling. A breeze rustles his hair, his eyes shimmer in the moonlight, and if Ryuu hadn’t fallen in love when he first saw Nakajima, this sight alone would have ensnared him. But since he’s already in love, all he can do is hide his blush.
“Did you have a good time today?”
Atsushi takes his eyes off his phone, looking at the man sitting beside him on the train. Akutagawa looks forward, watching city lights pass by the windows across from them, his hands in his coat pockets. He spoke without turning to Atsushi.
Turning his phone off, Atsushi watches their reflections in the window, looking in the same direction as Akutagawa, but not seeing the same thing.
“I did,” he says quietly, peering at his companion’s dark eyes as reflected in the glass. His heart beats a little faster when he admits it, and he smiles again, hoping to hide his nervousness with it. It’s worked all day.
“Did you?” he asks Akutagawa. The other man shifts a little, and crossing one leg over the other, he nods once. Inwardly, Atsushi lets out a small sigh of relief. Spending the day with Akutagawa has been a joy for him, and he wanted to know that his companion felt the same way, even though he probably hadn’t developed an immediate crush like Atsushi did.
The train’s automated voice cuts through Atsushi’s thoughts, announcing that the next station, Atsushi’s stop, is five minutes away. Atsushi’s knees bunch together as his face falls. Five minutes. He has five minutes left with Akutagawa.
He turns to the side again, looking over his companion’s face. Akutagawa’s the most handsome man he’s ever seen, with hair that looks as soft as doves’ feathers, eyes that constantly reflect the sea at night, and a pale, round face that somehow manages to be both adorable and mature. His expression never wavers, giving him an air of mystery that lures Atsushi in.
And, Atsushi thinks with a sad smile, he’s almost as impulsive as he is.
“Hey,” Atsushi says quietly. Akutagawa turns only his eyes to look at him, leaning back against the seat while Atsushi’s bent over on his knees.
“Yes?” Akutagawa asks in that deep voice of his. Atsushi takes a deep breath, even while his brain reminds him of the many ways that this could go wrong.
“Since, you know, we had fun today,” Atsushi says slowly, inwardly cursing himself for using the word “fun” like a kid, “Would you like to… Do it again?”
Akutagawa doesn’t take his eyes off of him, only blinking once, but staying silent as if he’s mulling it over. Atsushi watches him, almost shrinking back under his intense gaze.
“Yes.”
Atsushi can feel his heart skip a beat. “You mean it?” he asks incredulously, picking himself up, leaning forward towards Akutagawa. His excitement picks up as if pure adrenaline is being pumped into his veins. “You really want to see me again?”
Akutagawa nods, and if he scoots away a little, Atsushi barely notices. His heart’s too busy doing backflips.
“T-then, uh,” Atsushi all but pats himself down, searching through his pockets for something to write on, “w-would you like my number? I mean, it would be hard to meet again if one of us didn’t get the other’s number…” he trails off, stopping when Akutagawa merely holds out his hand to him.
“Your phone,” he says. Wordlessly, Atsushi nods, pulling his phone from his pocket and unlocking it before passing it to Akutagawa. Despite only knowing him for a day, he trusts him with it.
Akutagawa says nothing as he types on the screen, Atsushi leaning over his shoulder, watching as Akutagawa puts himself in Atsushi’s contact list.
“No need to waste paper when you have a phone,” Akutagawa says, handing it back to Atsushi, who stares at the name AKUTAGAWA RYUUNOSUKE and the number attached to it as if trying to commit it to memory. “I doubt you have a pen, anyway.”
Atsushi flushes red, and he could swear that the small huff Akutagawa gives is the faintest hint of a laugh.
“Call me tomorrow,” adds Akutagawa, turning away, leaning back again. “I’ll actually be off then.”
If Atsushi can get any redder, he does. Not only does Akutagawa want to see him again, he wants to see him tomorrow . He feels like he might pass out.
Instead, he beams, standing as the train pulls to a stop and the doors open. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Akutagawa-san,” he says. Akutagawa nods again, watching him as he walks to the doors.
“I’ll see you,” he echoes, waving a little, not taking his eyes off of Atsushi until the doors close again and the train pulls away. Atsushi watches it round a corner, making sure it’s completely gone before he leaves the platform, humming to himself, kicking up snow like a child and watching it fall around him.
He’s never felt in love like this before.
Gone, but not forgotten is that feeling when he reaches his apartment. He stops in his tracks, keys in hand, starting at the thing on his doorstep. It’s a package, a large cardboard box with Atsushi’s name and address on it. It sits in front of the door to his apartment, illuminated with yellow light, wet patches on its cardboard from melted snow.
Atsushi frowns. He doesn’t remember ordering anything. He doesn’t recognize the return label, either; it seems to be someone’s personal address, coming from someone named Higuchi Ichiyo. Atsushi’s never heard of them.
Atsushi stares at  the box, watching it as if something might jump from it. But the box is completely still. He shoves it a bit to get to his door, never taking his eyes off of it, surprised at how heavy it is.
Either he’s gullible or his curiosity gets the better of him, but Atsushi takes it inside.
There’s a letter attached to the top of the box, Atsushi realizes once the door’s closed behind it. He opens it first, peeling away the tape that binds it to the package, tearing it open gingerly, almost not wanting to admit to himself how scared he is of its contents.
The only thing in the letter is a harmless piece of paper. Atsushi checks the envelope twice to make sure of this; no powder, no razors, no glitter. Nothing dangerous. Atsushi sighs like he’s just defused a bomb.
But after he’s read the letter, he feels as if someone’s relit it.
Frantically, Atsushi tears open the box. It’s filled to the brim with material, inconsequential things, like plush toys and picture frames and a few crumpled pieces of origami. According to the letter, less than a few weeks ago, these were all Atsushi’s.
And he doesn’t remember any of them.
Atsushi’s heart feels ready to burst from his chest, and not in the giddy way that he felt when he was with Akutagawa. It’s the way that makes Atsushi’s stomach turn, his throat go dry, and his eyes widen in horror. He’s throwing things out of the box now, shaking, realization creeping up his spine like a cold hand. It’s all fake. It has to be.
But it can’t be.
Band tickets. Calendars with dates circled in red. Poems signed by their author, a name Atsushi can’t stand to read. A small blue box, a diamond ring still inside it, never presented.
Breath escapes Atsushi’s lips in ragged pants when he reaches the bottom. Under love letters and fridge magnets, a small flash drive hides, just as Higuchi wrote in her letter.
Atsushi freezes. The words of the letter pierce through his skin like knives, tearing into him, shaking him to his core.
To Nakajima Atsushi.
He takes the flash drive, holding it as if it could kill him if it got too close, but also careful not to let any harm come to it.
I am Higuchi Ichiyo. This may come as a shock to you, but you opted to receive treatment to have your memories of a certain person erased.
Atsushi plugs the flash drive into his computer. His breath catches in his throat when he sees all of them; photos, possibly hundreds of them, all of him and someone he thought he had never met.
Of course, you do not remember receiving this treatment. The memory of that was erased as well.
Atsushi’s never been to these places. He’s never been with that man before. He definitely has never kissed him before, but dozens of photos say otherwise.
I am a former employee of the doctor that carried out treatment for you and many others, Doctor Mori Ougai. It has recently come to my attention that this process is unethical. This is my attempt at making amends.
Atsushi covers his mouth with his hands. Sobs lurk behind his lips, tears slip from his eyes whenever he blinks. He can’t do this. He can’t keep going, can’t look at them anymore, can’t see himself smiling at a man he’d never met before today.
We took everything from you. Every memory, every photo, every object that may carry some trace of that person you wanted to forget. I’m giving them all back to you.
He takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. He’s curled up in his desk chair now, knees to his chest, eyes squeezed shut. He has to keep going, he tells himself, even while a whimper escapes his lips. He has to find that final file.
In this package, there’s a flash drive. It includes anything digital that we took, such as photos or videos. You’ll also find a recording of your verbal consent to this treatment there.
Atsushi scrolls past all the photos, not wanting to look at any more of them, but still catching glimpses every now and then, glimpses of a life he can never get back.
I hope you’re able to forgive me and come to peace with this. All the best,
Higuchi Ichiyo
The audio file’s at the very bottom. Atsushi doesn’t hesitate. He clicks on it, letting whatever’s on that file play through his computer’s speakers, echoing through the apartment. This can’t be real, he thinks to himself, still shaking. This can’t be real, and this will prove it.
“What’s your name, sir? ” a faceless male voice says, sounding like it was recorded through a low-quality microphone. Atsushi can feel his shoulders relax a bit; there’s no way a doctor’s office would be using such cheap equipment.
“Nakajima Atsushi. ”
Atsushi freezes. Yes, it sounds horrible through the recording. Yes, it’s nothing like how he sounds in his head. But that’s definitely his voice.
“And why are you choosing to have this procedure, Nakajima-san? ”
The room seems to spin. Atsushi’s vision goes blurry. Every photo he saw in that flash drive feels as if it’s being burned into his memory, leaving scars as a warning to never forget again.
The Atsushi in the recording can he heard taking a deep breath, coming out as static through the poor quality of the audio.
“Because I hate Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.”
"I want to forget Nakajima Atsushi. ”
“He’s irrational. He’s got a naive, childish outlook on life and needs to grow up .”
“Everywhere we go, he wants me to buy him a plush toy. A plush toy! He’s a grown man! ”
“He took a picture from his phone and got it printed and framed. What kind of sentimental idiot does that? ”
“He’s impulsive. I’ve spent so much on his stupid impulses and he never learns. I’ve almost been arrested because of him, all because he wanted to ‘explore.’ This has happened more than once. ”
“He doesn’t know how strong he is. He accidentally broke my arm once. How do you accidentally break someone’s arm?! ”
“He gets jealous if I so much as look at another guy .”
“I hate the way he eats .”
“I hate the way he talks .”
“I hate the way he drags me around .”
“He’s the only person that’s ever made me cry .”
“And… I loved him .”
There’s a pause. The Ryuunosuke in the recording stops for a moment, and he can be heard letting out a breath through clenched teeth as if he’d been punched in the stomach.
“I want to forget about him. I want to forget about loving him! ”
The doorway creaks. Ryuu looks up from his spot on the floor, surrounded by souvenirs and pieces of paper and framed photographs. He’s there, in the standing in the open door, appearing like a phantom but clutching the doorframe like a scared child.
“… Just like he forgot about me .”
“How much of that did you hear?” Ryuu asks quietly, closing his laptop and shoving it away like it offended him. Still standing there, Nakajima doesn’t meet his eyes.
“... Enough,” he says just as quietly, one arm wrapped around himself, the other supporting him against the wall as if he’d fall over if he didn’t have something to hold on to. He clears his throat a bit. “I had your address on a piece of paper. It was in the box,” he admits softly. Ryuu merely grunts in response.
There’s silence for a minute, in which Ryuu looks down at the pile around him. There’s even a shirt in there, decorated in colors he can’t imagine wearing, featuring a arrow with goofy letters beneath it saying “ I’m HIS boyfriend! ”
“Did you really think that?”
Ryuu looks up at Nakajima, a frown on his lips. Nakajima, with his eyes on the floor, doesn’t notice.
“Did you really think all those things?”
Ryuu huffs, causing Nakajima to pick his head up.
“Even if I did, I can’t remember it, can I?” he snaps. Nakajima shrinks back a little, his eyes wide as if he’s been frightened.
Ryuu stares at him, the anger falling from his face as he watches him, scared and confused, like a kicked dog. Ryuu’s shoulders sag and he sighs, running a hand through his hair.
Nakajima walks inside, leaving his shoes at the door, his socks stepping gingerly around everything on the floor until he’s next to Ryuu, where he slowly sits.
“... We could try again,” he says softly.
The very idea causes Ryuu to turn away, covering his mouth with his hand, folding his knees beside him. He hears Nakajima sigh.
“I mean, not picking up where we left off,” he says. From the corner of his eye, Ryuu can see him wrap his arms around his knees. “But… Starting over. Going on our date tomorrow, like we talked about. Easy things.”
Ryuu closes his eyes, as if not looking at everything on the floor would cause it to disappear. “It might end up like before,” he whispers.
Slowly, gently, he feels lithe fingers brush against the back of his free hand. He turns, looking down, seeing Nakajima’s hand on his.
“It might not,” Nakajima says just as quietly, his eyes on their hands as well.
Ryuu feels himself begin to tremble. Subconsciously, or perhaps not, he leans against Nakajima, who breathes deep and slow.
“I think that… If I could remember who I was before,” Nakajima murmurs, a bittersweet tang to his words, like strawberries picked too soon, “That version of me… Would be overjoyed that he gets to discover you all over again.”
Ryuu squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t cry. He won’t cry, not in front of someone he’s just met.
But they haven’t just met. They met moons ago, danced moons ago, kissed moons ago. That same moon is still out, and it’s ready to watch them learn to dance once more.
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goldenkamuyhunting · 5 years
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Dont you think that in the last chapter ogata and tsukishima are so different from how we met them at the beginning? theyre so pure in ch 185 and they deserve better, please noda protect them.
Thank you for asking my thoughts on this topic!
Yes, Ogata and Tsukishima are acting very differently and in a way it’s interesting how this seems to be something they have in common in this chapter yet their behaviour and the reasons for which they adopt it couldn’t be more different.
Tsukishima, with Svetlana, has likely returned back into the person he was meant to be. The whole thing with Igogusa had weightened heavily on him and, likely, changed him a lot.
through the story we see Tsukishima as being very closed in, holding back his emotions, unable to express them.
Originally Tsukishima was a bullied child, who would fight back bullies effectively (watch little Hajima make a short work of his bullies)
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but also who loved a bullied girl dearly.
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and wanted to marry her.
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He was a good friend to Tsurumi... but when he loses Igogusa he... exploded. He murdered his father (interesting enough by giving him brain damage serious enough to kill him) and ruined his own life. He got sentenced to death and resigned himself to it... to discover what he did crippled his chances to see Igogusa again.
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In war he loses it again and again it causes terrible damage as the man who’s his friend and saved his life got injured.
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Look at Tsukishima here. He’s a wreck and, from that moment on he probably tried hard to keep his emotions bottled up... but this only cause him to become more acutely aware of all his pent up rage and frustration.
His chance to pull out all of his emotions with Svetlana but, at the same time, to hear her side and to help her is likely very, very good for him.
In a way he gets the chance not to become a new person but first to revert back, even if only a little, to the person he war prior to Igogusa’s supposed death and once he’s back to that he can try to move forward to a better path instead than being stuck following Tsurumi regardless of his thoughts.
It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to follow Tsurumi or care for him, just if he wants to do it he should do it of his own choice, because he agre with him, not because he feels indebted to him.
Seeing him interact with Svetlana is finally seeing Tsukishima to be able to go back on being himself and not just a repressed and debt bound man.
He decided helping Svetlana was more important than finding the person who posses the key to the code for the gold, he talked with her, he poured his feelings to her, he received her own, he understood things aren’t as simple as he believed.
One of Tsukishima’s flaws was to assume to know already the reason why people did things, he jumped at tehir throats before listening and this caused troubles but this time he gets to listen prior to this causing troubles. He finally has the chance to confront with another person and, instead than causing a disaster, manage to learn Svetlana’s reasons and have the chance to fix things.
I think this will be great for Tsukishima and will make for awesome development. I’ve been worried for him because he seemed so very much worn out as if he really didn’t see a point to all that... but I think now Tsukishima might get his chance to blossom.
Ogata on the other side is not exactly going back to how he was but more to how he could have been had people be nicer to him from the start.
He has managed to learn how to interact with another being leaving himself open, without hiding behind snarky remarks, sarcasm, fake good mood and the barrel of a rifle.
Asirpa has given him lot of niceness and he has learnt to give it back. A little. He probably has a long way to go still, it’s not like he did a 180° turn, this is just a small step forward but for him it’s a giant step.
What he’l do from now on, if he’ll learn from this or circumstances will cause him to go back to how he was is up to speculation but it’s still a huge improvement in how he was and I hope he’ll continue to improve, I’ll hope circumstances won’t crush all the progresses he made but that he’ll be given more chances to learn.
For himself.
For Asirpa too who has worked so hard in teaching him all that and should deserve to be rewarded.
I’m probably weird because I would love for all the characters to learn from their mistakes and all walk toward a better path.
I know it’s unlikely, some will stuck with their mistakes and continue on the wrong path but... I like to hope.
And I really want for both Ogata and Tsukishima to heal (and everyone else really) and improve and become the best they could be. But maybe that’s just me.
Thank you again for your ask!
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h4rr3h · 6 years
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Harry and Evan were as platonic as platonic could be. Living together does that. You see their unlivable quirks; like how they always leave the toilet seat up, or how they never rinse their dishes, or how they never fully close the chip bag so they end up stale. And after six years of living together, Harry and Evan knew each other’s quirks well. The pair were long gone from their college days and fully immersed in the confusing reality of adulthood. Navigating your twenties is hard, but with your best friend by your side, it makes the whole disarray just that much easier. But, Harry has a secret, one that he’s been hiding from his best friend since the day they met, and she’s about to find out. Especially now that Niall spilled about the “Ohio Incident”. A lesson on facing your fears, being too old for college parties, cronuts (are those even still a thing?) and finding things out just a bit too late.
ohio is for lovers, chapter one evan bosco and the greatest one night stand that never happened
Since they day they met, Harry Styles knew Evan Bosco would take him on the ride of his life.
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Sunday, March 25, 2018
185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY
Since they day they met, Harry Styles knew Evan Bosco would take him on the ride of his life.
 “Get up! Get up!” She hollers, jumping on the edge of his bed.
 It’s eight o’clock on a Sunday morning. Harry is hoping for another hour of sleep, Evan is hoping for Harry’s homemade pancakes.
 “I want breakfast!” She grumbles, like a child.
 Harry knows he won’t say no. God, he could never say no to this girl, “make them yourself.” He groans, pushing his face into his pillow.
 Evan jumps closer, and Harry grabs her ankle and wiggles her around a bit. She stumbles but puts her palm against the ceiling to stable her balance. She’s wearing one of his jumpers with a pair of pajama shorts underneath. He pretends that he can’t see the eggplant shaped birthmark on her inner thigh. That’s not his territory.
 “Let gooooo - “
 Harry tugs on her leg, pulling her onto him. Evan laughs in protest but wraps her arms around him, hugging him close, throwing a leg over his lap, “Pancakes?” She jets her bottom lip out and he gives in.
 “Pancakes.”
Thursday, August 23, 2012 Washington Square Diner
150 West 4th Street, New York, NY
Harry Styles is not a fan of decaf coffee. But it’s three in the morning and he was about to round his thirtieth hour of no sleep and he reckoned if he had another drip of caffeine he would surely die of a heart attack at the age of eighteen. The chemical always heightened his senses. He was all too aware of the bored waitress sweeping behind the counter of empty display cases that in just a few hours time will hold bagels and pastries galore. Her rhythm is off key when she moves to the left, it’s a sweep, sweeeeep instead of a short quick sweep sweep.
 There are four other people in Washington Square Diner with him; an old man sitting on the furthest inside seat of counter, a punk looking couple, and a simple girl. The old geezer is leaned up so gingerly against the brick facade wall that Harry worries that the slightest gust of wind from an incoming customer might knock him over. He’s clearly asleep, or drunk, or dead. The couple are picking at the paper placemats laid in front of them despite a table full of hot, greasy food. And finally the girl, that damn girl.
 Sweep, Sweeeeep.
 Evan Bosco sits at the other end Washington Square Diner, earbuds in, but nothing playing. People leave you alone when they think you’re listening to music. She picks at her stack of pancakes, so soaked with syrup that they’re sticky and too sickly sweet for the common human. But that was how she liked them. Evan pretends not to notice the red eyed boy staring wide eyed at the scene around him.
 He must be a tourist, she thinks.
 She listens to the peaceful pattern of sweeps from the lonely waitress behind the counter. Another mouthful of pancakes washed down by her cup of black coffee and she’s counted twice now since the boy with bloodshot eyes has caught her sightline again. Old Man Figgins snorts in his sleep and Evan attempts to hide her bemusement. Mitch and Hannah in the front and center booth are high on Molly or X or whatever fad drug they were doing this week. Evan catches Harry’s eye again. Only she doesn’t know him as Harry, at least not yet. For now, he was the zombie boy who caught her gaze in between staring into his untouched mug of coffee and looking around him like he was hiding from something.
 Harry’s shoulders ache. He supposes it’s his bad posture, or at least that what his mother would tell him. He shifts his weight in the booth, the squeak of the fake leather seat whining as he makes a feeble attempt to stretch his sore muscles.
 Sweep, Sweeeeep.
 The air smells sweet like maple syrup and powdered sugar. The scent almost makes him nauseous. He glares down at the room temperature cup of decaf coffee and lets out a little sob to himself. Harry winces before the taste even hits his lips.
 Fucking decaf, he complains to himself.
 He can’t tell if the girl with honey hair sitting on the other side of the Diner is looking at him on purpose or not. Her hair is pulled back in a low bun, strands still falling in her face. She hides almond eyes behind a pair of oversized wire rimmed glasses that look like they belong to the elderly man asleep (or dead) at the counter instead of a young woman. There’s a crinkle in her forehead when he catches her looking again.
 It’s then that he notices the sweeping has stopped.
 Evan rises from her seat, but not without shoving another bite of pancake into her mouth. She licks her sticky lips and crosses the Diner in thirteen strides to the back corner booth where the boy is sitting. He looks even worse for wear up close. His greenish (although they look dull under the pale Diner lighting) eyes are bloodshot to hell and, along with red rimmed eyes, he has bags so dark Evan wondered for a moment if he’d been recently socked in the face. She notices he’d put far too much creamer in his coffee, it sits so beige and stagnant in the white mug with roadmap-like hairpin cracks along the edge of its mouth.
 Something like this wasn’t rash for Evan Bosco. She was used to flighty strangers in the night, whether she was at the park or the Diner, or the Subway station. New York really was the city that never slept, in the sense that the people who inhabited it were walking talking zombies who drank expensive coffee and ate fad pastries instead of brains, just shuffling and grunting onto their next stop. It was these strange hours of the night a few times a month that Evan stepped away from the hustle and bustle of simply existing in such an exhausting city and took some time to pause.
 She met some interesting people along the way, like Hannah and Mitch who would sometimes pay for her pancakes if they were feeling up to it and offered her drugs she’d never take. Or Old Man Figgins, who smelled faintly of cat pee thanks to the dozen or so cats he had collected in his studio apartment around the corner on MacDougal Street.
 Why was she coming towards him? Harry thinks, She’s probably coming to tell me to fuck off.
 But she doesn’t, and Evan slides gracefully into his booth and it takes him a moment to resonate that the girl he’d been staring at for the better part of forty-five minutes is staring back him from across the table.
 And she smells like maple syrup.
 Neither of them speak when she sits, Harry looks into his mug like he’s waiting for it to tell him its greatest secrets.
 “I’ve never seen someone look so somberly at a mug of coffee.” Evan states.
 Harry blinks once, “it’s decaf.”
 That explains it, she thinks. Also, nice accent.
 “Why’re you drinking that?” She questions.
 He shrugs, What an odd question.
 Odd question for an odd girl.
 He rips open a sugar packet and dumps it in, hoping it will mask the flavor (it won’t), “too much caffeine. Been up too long. Need to sleep sometime I suppose.”
 Evan nods her head, “so why do you keep staring at me? Do I have something in my teeth?”
 She curls her lips up and bares a white smile to Harry. He tries his best not to smile too much back at her. He pulls his coffee mug to his mouth to try and hide it.
 “Just wonderin’ what you were doing here,” he mutters, lips pressed to the edge of the porcelain mug.
 Evan rips tiny tears into the edges of the paper placemat, “could ask you the same thing.”
 “This is the city that never sleeps, am I right?”
 She rolls her eyes, what a cliche tourist thing to say.
 “I guess,” she huffs, “this is really the only place around here that’s open twenty-four hours. I come here when I need to think.”
 Harry rolls his eyes, what a cliche teenage girl thing to say.
 “And what do you think about?” He quizzes.
 By now Evan has made it three quarters of the way around her placemat and she’s mentally scanning the rest of the table for things to occupy her fingertips; the napkins, sugar packets, a dollar store miniature coloring book with three waxy crayons in red, yellow and blue.
 She shrugs, how terribly invasive, she thinks to herself. Although it’s exciting. She’s spent most of her time in and out of this city. Between dad’s work and travels she’s seen the inside of airport terminals so often she thought she ought to have a punch card for the JFK airport. There’s something fuzzy growing in her stomach and it makes her want to throw up, but in the most exhilarating way possible. She can be anyone tonight. Anyone to this person. She’s not her father’s daughter who shares the same bright eyes and sense of adventure and terrible nail biting habit. And she’s definitely not the girl that Jacob Huckabee just dumped twelve hours ago in a Starbucks on Bleecker Street.
 “I think about the color blue, and the way that the sky looks right before the sun rises,” Evan plucks out a crayon from the little cardboard box and flips her edge torn paper placemat to the blank white side, “I think about this city and how, despite us being constantly surrounded by other people that we never actually touch them,” she draws a cluster of stick figures inside of a box below a deep blue crayon sky, “sure, we may bump into them on the sidewalk or the subway but we don’t interact with more than a mumble of a sorry or barely even that. All these damn people and then they bump into other people and it just keeps going on and on-,” Evan drags the circle around the box a few times, “for seemingly forever. One-point-six million people just bumping into each other, day in and day out.”
 Harry raises an eyebrow. He pulls the red crayon from the box and turns the paper around to him, scribbling hair and smiley faces  on two of the stick figures standing side by side before presenting it back to her, “and then there’s us.”
 “You never answered my question,” Evan replies, “about what you’re doing here. I’ve never seen you here before tonight.”
 Harry doesn’t like questions, mostly because he never really has an answer. He was at the Washington Square Diner and three thirty in the morning because he was wired on caffeine, jet lagged, stressing about his upcoming first year at university, and well, hungry.
 “You’ve met all one point six million people in this city?” He raises an eyebrow. Evan folds her arms and he caves. “And I was hungry.”
 There’s a wrinkle of questioning between Evan’s eyes that causes her glasses to slip ever so slightly, “you don’t have any food.”
 Harry shrugs.
 Evan reaches for the last crayon, the yellow one, and draws a door that leads out of the stick figure clustered box and past the circle of repetition and to the blank part of the placemat.
 “Want to get out of here?” She asks.
 Harry isn’t sure what this girl is asking. Is she trying to sleep with me? He thinks. Not that it would be the worst way this night (morning?) could end.
 “Sure.”
 Evan smiles and damn near pulls him straight from the booth. Harry grabs the paper placemat with the torn edges and their drawing and folds it neatly, “in case we get lost we’ll always know where to find each other,” he says before tucking it into his back pocket.
 Old man Figgins wakes up when the front door of Washington Square Diner slams shut. It’s a fairly warm night. There’s no wind and the air is stagnant with summer’s leftovers. A slight lick of humidity fills the air; it’s stale, old, recycled. Just like this damn city. It’s a smell that Harry can’t place and one that Evan just calls “that city smell”. It’s mechanical, but still manages to smell like greasy chinese food after its sat out for too long, mixed with the slight wet dog smell of this evening’s rainstorm.
 Harry and Evan run down the sidewalk of West 4th Street towards Washington Square Park. Evan’s not much of a runner, especially with a stomach full of sticky pancakes and black coffee.
 Harry isn’t sure why they’re running. Is it a race? No, she’s not running fast enough for that. Is she running away from him? No, she’s smiling every time he looks at her to check her pace. She grabs his hand and drags him further, her hand is soft in his.
 Evan isn’t quite sure why she’s running. Overtired? Maybe, she should’ve been in bed hours ago. Craziness? Probably, she’s felt every emotion crammed into a half day and still lived to tell about it.
 They enter the park at the corner of Macdougal and Washington Square South.
 With heavy breaths, they fall to the ground in a fit of laughter, two strangers in the middle of the night. If this were a romantic comedy, Harry probably would’ve kissed her. But all he could notice in this moment was the way that the sidewalk lamp posts glowed in the reflection of her glasses and that her blue eyes looked so bright he thought he could’ve fallen in love right there on the spot.
 Harry didn’t really believe in love at first sight or even really love at all for that matter. It was a thing for saps and Hallmark cards. But, by God, he swore he saw the rest of his life with this girl flash in front of his eyes when she shut hers and placed her hand over his.
 “So what’s the plan?” He asks, when his breath finally catches up to him.
 Evan lets out a breathy laugh, “that’s one thing you’ll learn about me, I never have a plan.”
 Sunday, March 25, 2018
185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY
 It’s like a dance routine, the way that Harry and Evan work around their tiny apartment kitchen. They’ve mastered the art of passing by the other to get a utensil from the opposite end of the counter. Harry knows to dip slightly to the left when Evan reaches above his head for the mixing bowls; all her weight rested on her right foot, her left one extended backwards behind her. It’s choreographed teamwork.
 “Shit, we’re out of chocolate chips,” Evan groans as she digs through the cupboard.
 Harry’s got his Kiss the Cook apron on, mixing bowl full of raw pancake batter cradled in one arm and whisk in the other, “when did we run out?”
 “I made those cookies for Poll’s party a couple weeks ago.”
 “You didn’t write it in on the shopping list,” Harry tuts.
 Evan glares over the tops of her glasses, “shut up,” she say, kicking him swiftly on the ass.
 He does that cocky little smirk that causes the crease of his dimples to indent even more. Evan swears she’s detested  it since the day she met him, but that’s only because it causes one single butterfly in her lower stomach to flutter for just a fraction of a moment that happens so quickly, the first few times it happened she could’ve sworn she was imagining things.
 “So what’s on the agenda today?” Harry asks.
 Evan shrugs, shaking away the butterfly, “Huck had something he wants to do later. He was scarce on the details.”
 “Isn’t he always?” Harry quips.
 Evan hates when her best friend takes jabs at her boyfriend. Sure, Harry and Huck get along as well as they probably ever could, but there’s those backhanded compliments and little quips between comments that they fire at one another that makes her think one of them is bound to get sucker punched one of these days.
 It’s the second time in the course of sixty seconds that Evan tells Harry to shut up, but this time it’s with a little more fervor and he takes the hint. At least for now.
 “Maybe it’s a surprise,” Harry wiggles his fingers dramatically.
 “Eh,” Evan starts, “he’s not really one for surprises,” she acts nonchalant but her head swirls with ideas.
 They spin together to swap sides of the kitchen, pressed chest to chest for the briefest moment. Evan chuckles to herself at the sight of Harry’s tattoo-laden bare chest under his apron. A sizzling sound sparks in the air when Harry pours the batter into the hot pan, tiny bubbles forming up. Two steps to the left and Evan is pulling out more milk for their coffee that’s been steeping in the French press. They cheers with their matching monogrammed mugs that Harry still insists drinking out of even though his has a chip on the lip.
 “I can’t wait for the day you cut your mouth open on that mug so I can dance around the apartment screaming ‘told ya so!’”
 Harry winks and takes a sip from the side with the chip and the mug rubs against slightly rough spot on the inside of his upper lip where it’s cut him over and over in the past but this time there’s no metallic taste of blood mixed with his coffee.
 Outside the front door of apartment 11A, Jake Huckabee can smell the sweet scent of pancakes outside of his girlfriend’s apartment. While he much preferred waffles, after pulling an all nighter studying for Monday’s exam, pancakes would just have to do right now. He knocks four times in rapid succession and can hear the gentle pat pat of Evan’s feet against the hardwood floors.
 “Baby, you look so tired,” Evan groans to her boyfriend, holding her hands on either side of his face.
 She slides them down to his shoulders, giving them a single squeeze before wrapping her arms around his neck. Jake presses his forehead into her collarbone and peppers kisses along her neck. Evan giggles and pulls him into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.
 Harry tries not to stare at their spectacle and finishes up the first round of pancakes, “have a fresh batch ready to go!” Harry says a little too loudly, his voice cracking a bit at the end.
 Evan laces her fingers with Huck and pulls him to the kitchen. The dance is disturbed now by Huck standing like an awkward fucking giant in the middle of the kitchen. Evan bumps into him with a hot pan of cooked bacon and he winces and rubs the rapidly forming burn on his arm, Harry steps on his big toe while backing up to get the syrup from the cupboard.
 “Hey Huck, can you put this stuff on the table?” Harry asks, slightly annoyed, but mostly just to get him out of the fucking way.
 “Sure, man,” he replies, giving Evan a kiss on the forehead before putting the plate of fresh pancakes on the tiny dining table in what was supposed to be the other half of the living room.
 Living in a New York City apartment, especially when you’re barely able to cover rent and food, is like playing a real life game of tetris. The buildings are full of right angles and corners and straight lines, and the rooms take on multiple uses. The living room becomes a dining room on Sunday morning but a dance hall on Saturday nights. The weird corner in the kitchen that’s too small for a table but too big for a bar cart becomes a place for Harry and Evan’s ‘his and hers’ cats to perch and catch some morning rays. The bedrooms double as therapist offices and gymnasiums. And so on, and so forth.
 The threesome settles at the dining table and it’s a symphony of scraping forks and Huck’s cow chewing because of a deviated septum from a broken nose as a kid. They’ve had many a morning like this. Harry would be stupid to act like this didn’t happen every goddamn Sunday morning and now especially since Evan and Huck saw less of each other because of his spastic medical school schedule, time was precious.
 “So how goes Ye Olde Med School?” Harry asks, letting his fork scrape against his teeth for a second or two too long.
 Huck rubs his tired eyes. The classes are exhausting and seemingly never ending, the course load is enough to make anyone’s goddamn head explode, he sleeps an average of four hours a night, and he spends so much time in the library he can’t remember what day of the week it is most of the time.
 “It’s good,” he says simply.
 Thursday, August 23, 2012
Washington Square Park, New York, NY
 “So what are you thinking about now?” He asks.
 “Are you a therapist?” Evan questions in a dry tone.
 She opens her eyes and rolls her head over to face him, she can feel the soft tickle of the grass on her cheek. It’s quiet, and that’s saying something for the city. There’s the ever present sirens in the distance and honks and the other white noise static she’s become accustomed to. After all the places in the world that her father had taken her on his work trips, she detested the fact that he had to settle on New York City when it came time to take the promotion and settle down. Now he was the Editor-in-Chief of Travel Lately; one of those boujee travel magazines that showcased resorts and accommodations only the one-percent could afford. It was a modest upbringing when her father was just a measly travel writer carting his daughter around the world. But he was amazing at what he did and made good connections, and well, things changed. Now he spent 9-5 in an office building surrounded by glass walls and computer monitors the size of big screen televisions.
 “I’m interested in what you have to say,” Harry says, plainly. He’s turned his head over too and Evan can feel his breath feather across her face. He smells of coffee and mint.
 Is he trying to sleep with me? She thinks. Men are all the same.
 Evan rolls onto her side, propping her face up on her palm and surveys Harry. He’s laying on his back, hands folded on his stomach. His breathing is light and steady in perfect rhythm. His heart is racing, and she can hear. Even his heart beat is in sync with his breathing and she wondered how in the Hell anyone could be so in tune. Harry’s eyes are more green than she noticed in the diner; they looked more hazel under the fluorescents and she spots a pair of swallow tattoos just below his collar bone poking out from above his shirt. She reaches out to trace one.
 “I already told you what I think about, and what I was doing in the Diner. How about you answer some questions, buddy?” She finishes dragging her finger across his skin, his body emitting shivers under her touch.
 Harry takes a deep breath to try and recover himself, he wonders if she can hear how fast his heart is racing, “do you want the long or short version?”
 “Long,” she smiles, “we’ve got another couple hours until sunrise.”
 Evan listens intently while he speaks, “well, I got here this afternoon, from England, if you couldn’t tell.”
 She could.
 “I’m starting University on Tuesday and I’m scared shitless. I already hate this city. It’s so loud and lonely despite the fact you are never actually alone anywhere...ever,” he continues, “you have to wait twenty minutes for a seven dollar cup of coffee that takes less time to drink than it took for you to get it. It’s so goddamn loud. I don’t think I’ve heard a second of silence since I’ve gotten here. And there’s tourists, like, everywhere. It’s exhausting.”
 “Shit, I’d hate to see what you’ll be like after a month,” Evan quips.
 “Dead, hopefully.”
 There’s a playful smirk on his face and it makes Evan feel things she shouldn’t feel about a complete stranger, “Where are you going to school?”
 “NYU-”
 “Wait are you shitting me?” Evan sits up, clutching her chest.
 Harry is confused, “no?”
 “I’m going there too! That’s so cool! Small world, huh?” She jabs his ribs, “so what made you decide to cross the world to come to school?”
 He lets out a stream of breath, it comes out as a low whistle, “...my best friend talked me into it. Wanted something different, I suppose. If I stayed home I’d probably be working in my parent’s little pub. Sold me into the whole big city thing and here I am.”
 “So where’s he?” Evan asks.
 Harry shrugs, “probably at home.”
 “What’s his name?”
 “You ask a lot of questions,” Harry tuts.
 Evan rolls her eyes, “so says the guy who wants to know what I’m thinking because he’s sooo interested in what I have to say,” she proclaims with faux drama.
 “Fair enough,” Harry starts, “his name is Louis. We met really young. He’s a couple years older, already in school. His family lived next door to my parents growing up. Parents split and his dad stayed in England so he’d spend summers with him and the rest of the year here with his Mum. We just stayed in touch over the years.”
 “So you just dropped everything to move to the states and be with your best friend?”
 Harry thinks about it. That wasn’t really the full reason why. It was just his easiest way out of a drone life of working the pub and then it would eventually be passed on to him like it was his to his Mum and surely onto his children after he grew too old to care for it. It wouldn’t have been a bad life. It’d be comfortable, he’d marry the girl next door and she’d work in a shop up the block from the pub and they’d have a comfortable and familiar existence together and maybe pop out a few kids and go on a couple vacations. But Harry had known from a very young age that that was not what he wanted for himself. So the easiest way out was taking Lou’s advice and getting the fuck out of dodge.
 “I guess, in a way. It’s complicated back home but entirely not at the same time. I needed to get away from the constant sameness of the day to day. I needed something more for myself than what life back home could offer me and he offered to help me out and here I am.”
 Evan clutches her chest again and finds the whole thing so goddamn endearing she may burst. She wants to ask him about home and the best friend that she can thank for bringing him here and about a thousand other things but she doesn’t.
 “That’s so bromantic!”
 Harry rolls his eyes, “does that adequately answer your question?”
 She adjusts herself so that her head is resting on his chest. His heart is racing so fast Evan can feel it thump gently against her and Harry flushes and prays she doesn’t notice.
 She does.
 “For now.”
 She lets her fingers tiptoe on the grass around her. A silence has fallen between them (if you’re not counting Harry’s furiously beating heart) and Evan musters up the courage to ask what she’s about to, “so where are you staying tonight?”
 Harry fumbles with his answer, “uh just some like cruddy hotel until uh I move into the dorms. Louis’ mum’s apartment is cramped enough as it is without me there. W-why do you ask?”
 “Can I see it?”
 He chokes on air. Holy shit she really is trying to sleep with me. He blinks once, “uhm sure, I guess.”
 Sunday, March 25, 2018
185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY
 “Does this mean you’ve finally grown a pair of balls?” Niall asks, sipping his beer,  feet resting on the edge of the coffee table.
 Harry pushes his legs off his goddamn coffee table and leans back in his seat, taking a last sip of his drink before slamming the bottle on the table, “no, I’m just going to start being honest. I can’t stand seeing her with that human Valium.”
 “They’ve been together longer than you’ve known her, mate. I think you need to just keep your mouth shut and accept the fact that it’s never going to happen,” Louis chimes in, always the voice of reason.
 “If you tell her does that mean you’re going to stop bringing up your overdone sad sap trope every time she’s not around and you’ve had more than two drinks?” Niall pips casually.
 Louis tries his best not to chuckle, “yeah man, it’s kind of getting old. Either move on or tell her. And personally, I vote don’t tell her. Not after this long, and you live together…it’s just kind of sad and entirely too creepy.”
 “Thanks,” Harry seethes, finishing his beer and getting up for another.
 “Where is she anyways?” Niall asks.
 “Out with the Valium,” Harry sneers. He’s four beers in and feeling brave.
 “Bitter, table of one.” Niall mumbles into his beer.
 Louis rolls his eyes and mentally adds another tick to his count of how many times he has to smooth over something Niall says for Harry’s benefit. Just a normal side effect of having one friend with no filter and another who takes everything much too personally.
 “How’s Jordan?” Louis asks, changing the subject.
 Oh, right, my girlfriend. Harry thinks. Well, at least this week.
 “She’s good. We’re supposed to be going on a weekend trip up north to see her parents in a couple weeks. That should be interesting.”
 “You’ve met her parents like four dozen times, what’s so different this time?” Louis inquires.
 Mr. and Mrs. Charles Meyers of Troy, New York wanted nothing more than for their first born daughter to marry the man of her dreams. Harry was not this man. They were old fashioned, made Harry and Jordan sleep in separate bedrooms whenever they spent a night at their McMansion upstate. But a little after midnight Jordan would sneak into the guest room and snuggle up to Harry for a cuddle or a fuck or whatever they were feeling at that particular time. There’s just something about that boy, they always thought. He was smart, well put together, made good conversation, was respectful to their daughter, but Mr. and Mrs. Meyers knew that Harry Styles was not the man their daughter would marry.
 “It’s their like thirtieth wedding anniversary or some bullshit. So everyone is making a big deal about it and Jordan is asking too many questions about ‘the next step’.”
 “...you mean like normal couples do?” Louis fails to see the clear annoyance in Harry’s tone.
 He groans and puts his face in his hands, “she’s just - I don’t know how to describe it. She’s all over me all the time and then I’ll say something she doesn’t agree with and she’ll dump me for two weeks and then just show up at my door like she hasn’t been cursing my existence for the last fourteen days.”
 Niall pushes his glasses up his nose, “poor Harry, can’t get the girl he wants, can’t get rid of the one he doesn’t. Life is so cruel.”
 “Remind me again why we keep you around?” Harry snickers.
 Niall grins, “for the amazing commentary and real life wisdom.”
 “Yeah,” Harry snorts, “that’s it.”
 Thursday, August 23, 2012
St. Marks Hotel
2 St Marks Pl, New York, NY
 Harry wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans and paces the length of the tiny hotel room four times by the time Evan is done in the bathroom. He’d never had a one night stand before, unless you counted the time he lost his virginity to his first girlfriend who then promptly dumped him the next day. Harry liked to think there was no correlation, but he was just a lousy kisser and an even worse lay at age sixteen.
 He sits at the edge of the bed and it let out a squeaking groan in protest. Whoever was staying next door was surely in for a (loud) treat. He ponders briefly if he should play some music to help set the mood or dim the lights or shut them off completely. The blanket he’s sitting on is scratchy and he swears he can feel it through the fabric of his jeans. Finally, he hears the click of the bathroom door opening and approximately five thoughts process through his head at once;
 One, her hair is down, swung over one shoulder. It’s precise without looking like she did it on purpose (she did). Harry notices a small globe tattoo at the very top of her shoulder.
 Two, she’s taller than he thought, standing in front of him as he’s seated on the edge of the bed frozen with fear. He’s eye level with her bust and now he can hear her heart too.
 Three, her skin is a lot warmer than Harry expected. His hand cups her hip, his thumb toying with the bottom hem of her loose fitting tee shirt.
 Four, she smells like a mixture of seasalt and French vanilla coffee.
 Five, he can’t fucking go through with this.
 “I - I’m sorry, I can’t.”
 Harry stands and backs himself into a corner, biting at his thumbnail, shoulders hunched over. Evan takes a step towards him and he flinches backwards.
 “Have I done something wrong?” She asks. She’s on the verge of tears, mostly from the embarrassment of flinging herself at a total stranger she’d picked up at a fucking Diner, and partially because she misses her boyfriend, well, ex now.
 “No, no. You’re fine. I just can’t sleep with you. You’re great, honestly. I just...can’t do it.”
 “Oh my God,” Evan gasps, “are you gay? I’m so sorry, I just assumed - “
 “No! No I’m not gay,” Harry corrects, “not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just, not. I know I’ll regret all of this in the morning and quite possibly the rest of my life -”
 Evan laughs, loud and breathy. It’s more of a relief than anything. She really didn’t want to sleep with Harry either. Although he was quite attractive and interesting and all that but in a way she thought that sleeping with him would cheapen the night. Having sex with him would’ve given the whole spontaneity of everything less meaning and it took him forcing himself into a corner like a terrified puppy for her to realize that.
 “Come here,” she says, sitting down and patting the space of mattress next to her.
 Harry hesitates, his heart still racing as if she were underneath him.
 “I just got dumped,” Evan starts, and he isn’t quite sure why she’s telling him this, “he said that while we were great together, he had to focus on school and his career and I just didn’t fit into that. So I cried, and went to the Diner, ate my weight in pancakes and now I’m here, with you.”
 “I think he’s an idiot,” Harry consoles, holding her hand in his.
 Evan swallows the lump in her throat, “thanks.”
 “No problem.”
 Silence again, and it’s truly quiet for the first time since Harry had arrived in the City. He sighs and savors what he’s sure are going to be far and few in between moments. Evan yawns and rubs her eyes, it’s been a while since she’s been this tired. She’s been tired since she got to the Diner and the night’s ups and downs just added to her exhaustion.
 “You can sleep here if you want,” Harry offers, “or I can call you a cab if you’re not comfortable with that.”
 Evan smiles, “I think I’ll stay here.”
 Sunday, March 25, 2018
185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY
 “Where the fuck is Evan?!” Polly hollers from the hallway between apartments 11A and 11B.
 It’s half past seven and the boy’s show at the bar up the street starts in a half hour. Evan never misses show nights on Sundays and Polly is impatient.
 “Relax, maybe she got stuck in traffic,” Louis rubs her lower back, trying to calm down his girlfriend.
 Polly stomps and puts her hands on her hips, “well then she should’ve called! This is so disrespectful. She knows how important - “
 Louis covers her mouth with his palm, “Polls, it’s fine. I’m going to round up Harry and Niall and we’re going to go across the street to get set up. Meet us there in ten?”
 She nods, her stature loosening a bit when he removes his hand, “sorry, I’m PMS-ing,” she defends, folding her arms across her chest.
 “Yeah, I know,” Lou teases before giving her a kiss on the forehead, “I’ll order us a round and you can get nice and blitzed tonight.”
 She chuckles and smacks him on the bum, “go! You’ll be late!”
 Louis goes back into 11A and Polly can hear the faint sounds of him hollering at the other two to hurry up. Pounding footsteps make their way up the hallway and Polly is half pissed, half relieved to finally see her cousin.
 “Finally! I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Polly snapped.
 Evan didn’t respond and just pulled her into the apartment.
 “Everyone to the living room!” She yells excitedly and Polly rolls her eyes and wonders what the hell she’s doing.
 The three boys come rushing into the living room. Huck isn’t far behind and lets himself into the apartment. Evan steps away from her cousin and clutches onto her boyfriend, excitedly biting her lip.
 “What?!” The four friends chime in unison.
 “We’re engaged!” And she holds up her left hand and shiny diamond ring to prove it.
 Niall stifles a laugh into a cough and Harry plans on getting very, very drunk.
 Sunday, August 26, 2012
Goddard Hall
79 Washington Square East, New York, NY
 It had been three days since Evan parted ways with Harry. They hadn’t so much as shared their names with each other, nor phone numbers nor anything else. They fell asleep halfway into an episode of Friends and Evan left when the dawn of morning came. When Harry finally woke up in the early afternoon, he thought maybe she’d been a dream; a toxic combination of too much coffee, not enough sleep and a brand new city. But when he heard a crinkle from his back pocket and pulled out the tattered paper placemat with her drawing, he knew she had, in fact, been for real.
 He couldn’t wait to tell Louis.
 Move in day at Goddard Hall was going smoothly for Evan and her father, Evan Bosco Sr. After believing for months that their daughter was a son due to faulty ultrasound equipment in Cambodia, Mr. and Mrs. Bosco couldn’t decide on a name for their daughter, so they just settled on naming her what they had intended on naming their son.
 “I think that’s the last of it,” Evan Sr. says, dropping the last tote of belongs on the floor of his daughter’s new dorm room, “want me to help you unpack?”
 “Nah,” Evan replies, “I’ll probably just do the essentials tonight, get a pizza and watch some Netflix.”
 Evan Sr. had a swollen heart, watching his only daughter, his only child leave home for college. Even if she really wasn’t all that far from home. The apartment would be quieter, he’d miss their morning cups of coffee while they split the paper; crosswords and the business section for him, current affairs and comics for her. He’d miss (although he’d never admit it) when he’d have to remind her to pick up her dishes or clean up her room. He’d miss having his partner in crime with him.
 “Alright, if you need anything, just call me and I’ll be here.”
 “Yes dad,” Evan groans.
 “I’m not far. Even if you need to get away from your new roommate -”
 “I’m sure the twelve minute subway ride to get home will really be a daunting when I want to shower in private.”
 He laughs, “where is this roommate anyways?”
 “No clue,” Evan shrugs, “maybe I’ll get lucky and end up with a room to myself. Then you’ll really never see me.”
 “Hey,” Evan Sr. turns the rolling chair from the desk and sits in it, “how about once a week, no matter what, we do something? Whether it’s dinner, lunch, shopping, a movie, doesn’t matter. Deal?”
 “Dad,” she starts, she can see the corners of her father’s eyes twinkling like they do right before he cries, “I’m not moving to a different country, just a different neighborhood. You’ll be too busy living up the bachelor lifestyle in your newly empty apartment that you won’t have time to miss me.”
 Evan Sr. stands and pulls his daughter into a hug. He squeezes her tight and plants a kiss on the top of her head before letting her go and heading for the door, “okay, I’ll let you get to it.”
 “Love you, Dad.” She says.
 Her father waves and yells, “Love you too, my little snickerdoodle!” Down the crowded hallway back at her.
 Evan laughs and closes the door, turning to her empty dorm room. She sighs once and lays down on the uncomfortable twin bed and instantly regrets fighting her father to let her live on campus.
 Somewhere in the middle of the third season of Arrested Development, Evan falls asleep, curled into a ball on her unmade bed. It’s dark in the room when she wakes up a couple hours later with still no sign of her roommate. Maybe I did get lucky and end up alone. She thinks. She plugs in her microwave and whips up some cup noodles and settles back into bed. Another hour passes before there’s a the sound of keys jingling outside the dorm door. After a couple of hushed swears the door pops open and it takes a few seconds for Evan’s eyes to adjust from the brightness of her laptop screen to the darkness of the room.
 When the light flicks on she can’t seem to find the words she wants to say so instead, stares with her mouth agape at the sight of Diner boy standing in front of her. He looks at the piece of paper in his hand, “Evan?”
 “Yeah?”
 Evan scrambles to the move in slip on her bedside table with the name of her roommate listed on it, “I assumed Harry was short for Harriet.”
 Harry bursts out laughing, falling onto his bed across from Evan’s.
 Since they day they met, Harry Styles knew Evan Bosco would take him on the ride of his life.
FIRST AND FOREMOST THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE PROLOGUE. Holy crap. And all the lovely messages too! I’m so excited to go on this journey with you guys and share all of the shenanigans that this gang is going to get into. 
Until next time!
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seekfirstme · 3 years
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The following reflection is courtesy of Don Schwager © 2021. Don's website is located at Dailyscripture.net
Meditation: Who doesn't desire the praise and respect of others? We want others to see us at our best with all of our strengths and achievements - rather than at our worst with all of our faults and shortcomings. God sees us as we truly are - sinners and beggars always in need of his mercy, help, and guidance.
The prophet Isaiah warned both the rulers and the people of Sodom and Gomorrah to humbly listen and submit to God's teaching so they could learn to do good and to cease from evil (Isaiah 110,17). Jesus warned the scribes and Pharisees, the teachers and rulers of Israel, to teach and serve their people with humility and sincerity rather than with pride and self-promotion. They went to great lengths to draw attention to their religious status and practices. In a way they wanted to be good models of observant Jews. "See how well we observe all the ritual rules and regulations of our religion!" In their misguided zeal for religion they sought recognition and honor for themselves rather than for God. They made the practice of their faith a burden rather than a joy for the people they were supposed to serve.
True respect for God inclines us to humble ourselves and to submit to his wisdom and guidance. We cannot be taught by God unless we first learn to listen to his word and then obey his instruction.
One Father and Teacher
Was Jesus against calling anyone a rabbi, the Jewish title for a teacher of God's word (Matthew 23:7-8), or a father? The law of Moses in Scripture specifically instructed all fathers to be teachers and instructors for their children to help them understand and obey God's instructions (Deuteronomy 6:7)? Why did Jesus rebuke the scribes and Pharisees, the religious authorities of the Jewish people, in the presence of his disciples? Jesus wanted to warn both his own disciples and the religious leaders about the temptation to seek honors and titles that draw attention to ourselves in place of God and his word. Pride tempts us to put ourselves first above others.
The Scriptures give ample warning about the danger of self-seeking pride: Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall (Proverbs 16:18). God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6; Proverbs 3:24).
Origen (185-254 AD), an early Christian teacher and bible scholar, reminds those who teach and lead to remember that they are first and foremost "disciples" and "servants" who sit at the feet of their Master and Teacher the Lord Jesus Christ:
"You have one teacher, and you are all brothers to each other...Whoever ministers with the divine word does not put himself forward to be called teacher, for he knows that when he performs well it is Christ who is within him. He should only call himself servant according to the command of Christ, saying, Whoever is greater among you, let him be the servant of all."
True humility
Respect for God and for his ways inclines us to humility and to simplicity of heart - the willing readiness to seek the one true good who is God himself. What is the nature of true humility and why should we embrace it as essential for our lives? We can easily mistake humility as something demeaning or harmful to our sense of well-being and feeling good about ourselves. True humility is not feeling bad about yourself, or having a low opinion of yourself, or thinking of yourself as inferior to all others. True humility frees us from preoccupation with ourselves, whereas a low self-opinion tends to focus our attention on ourselves. Humility is truth in self-understanding and truth in action. Viewing ourselves honestly, with sober judgment, means seeing ourselves the way God sees us (Psalm 139:1-4).
A humble person makes a realistic assessment of oneself without illusion or pretense to be something one is not. A truly humble person regards oneself neither smaller nor larger than one truly is. True humility frees us to be ourselves as God regards us and to avoid falling into despair and pride. A humble person does not want to wear a mask or put on a facade in order to look good to others. Such a person is not swayed by accidentals, such as fame, reputation, success, or failure. Do you know the joy of Christ-like humility and simplicity of heart?
Humility is the queen or foundation of all the other virtues because it enables us to see and judge correctly, the way God sees. Humility helps us to be teachable so we can acquire true knowledge, wisdom, and an honest view of reality. It directs our energy, zeal, and will to give ourselves to something greater than ourselves. Humility frees us to love and serve others willingly and selflessly, for their own sake, rather than for our own. Paul the Apostle gives us the greatest example and model of humility in the person of Jesus Christ, who emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, and... who humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross (Philippians 2:7-8). Do you want to be a servant as Jesus loved and served others? The Lord Jesus gives us his heart - the heart of a servant who seeks the good of others and puts their interests first in his care and concern for them.
"Lord Jesus, you became a servant for my sake to set me free from the tyranny of selfish pride and self-concern. Teach me to be humble as you are humble and to love others generously with selfless service and kindness."
The following reflection is from One Bread, One Body courtesy of Presentation Ministries © 2021.
MARCH MADNESS
“Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, but whoever humbles himself shall be exalted.” —Matthew 23:12
It’s March, and in the USA college basketball tournaments, known fondly as “March Madness,” are in full swing. Hundreds of athletes have trained diligently for months and are competing for the chance to be exalted as “Number One.”
An athlete practices to make his or her vertical jump higher and jump shot more accurate. We disciples of Jesus, however, must train ourselves to grow in humility much more diligently than any athlete trains to win a tournament. “Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things” to win a contest (1 Cor 9:25), but “the discipline of religion” and training in humility “with its promise of life here and hereafter” is “incalculably more” important than any athletic contest (1 Tm 4:8). They train to win a trophy; we train to spend eternity with Jesus!
This Lent, let us work much harder at discipleship, especially in the virtue of humility. We can practice growing in humility by:
• actively seeking “the lowest place” (Lk 14:10),
• keeping our deeds of mercy secret (Mt 6:4),
• fasting so that no one is aware of it (Mt 6:16-18),
• taking the less desirable tasks and chores,
• decreasing so that Jesus increases (Jn 3:30), and
• forgiving and serving those who hurt us.
“Bow humbly under God’s mighty hand, so that in due time He may lift you high” (1 Pt 5:6).
Prayer:  Father, I will clothe myself with humility (1 Pt 5:5) and continually extol You as Lord (Ps 34:4, RNAB).
Promise:  “Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow.” —Is 1:18
Praise:  Jesus healed Martha’s shoulder at a healing service.
Reference:  (This teaching was submitted by a member of our editorial team.)
Rescript:  "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for One Bread, One Body covering the period from February 1, 2021 through March 31, 2021. Most Reverend Joseph R. Binzer, Auxiliary Bishop, Vicar General, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio March 31, 2020"
The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements
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rinnnyxr · 3 years
Text
Check off the following that you relate to:
-
This week, have you…? celebrated a birthday painted your nails worn perfume worn red lipstick worn black eyeliner eaten out at a restaurant drank alcohol eaten lasagna drank hot chocolate straightened your hair worn something grey worn flavored lip balm been complimented on something you were wearing eaten nachos eaten chicken eaten an ice-cream sundae been on a date bought something new for yourself eaten lunch with a friend eaten dinner with your parents eaten mashed potatoes got up before 7am drank cola found out something that surprised you eaten spaghetti talked on the phone for over an hour taken a walk in the park seen a squirrel eaten doughnuts eaten brownies eaten muffins drank iced coffee changed the wallpaper on your phone eaten marshmallows
-
Bold the ones that apply to you, and add up the total as you go along.
Natural Hair Color: [ ]Redhead – $80 [ ]Brunette – $75 [ ]Blonde – $50 [ ]Black – $15 [ ]Bald – $5 [ ]other-$0 Total So Far: $15
Eye Color: [ ]Blue – $100 [ ]Green – $75 [ ]Brown – $50 [ ]Hazel – $25 [ ]Other – $25
Total So Far: $65
Height: [ ]Over 7′ – $200 [ ]6’8? to 7′ – $175 [ ]6’0? to 6’7? – $150 [ ]5’5? to 5’11? – $75 [ ]5’0? to 5’4? – $45 [ ]Under 5′ – $25
Total So Far: $110
Age: [ ]30 to 40 – $100 [ ]25 to 30 – $75 [ ]20 to 25 – $50 [ ]18 to 20 – $25 [ ]0 to 18 – $15 Total So Far: $185
Current Education: [ ]PhD – $500 [ ]Masters – $450 [ ]Business Owner – $800 [ ]Bachelors – $400 [ ]Associates – $350 [ ]In College – $300 [ ]High School Graduate – $250 [ ]In High School – $200 [ ]High School Dropout – $100 [ ]Jr. High – $50 [ ]What is School – $Bankrupt$
Total So Far: $585
Birth Order: [ ]Twins or more than twins – $300 [ ]Only Child – $250 [ ]First Born – $200 [ ]Second born-$150 [ ]Middle Child – $100 [ ]Last Born – $50 [ ]Other – $40
Total So Far: $635
Drink? [ ]Never – $300 [ ]Only Holidays – $250 [ ]Sometimes – $200 [ ]Every other week – $150 [ ]Every other day – $50 [ ]Once a day – $15
Total So Far: $785
Vision? [ ] No correction $75 [ ] Glasses $50 [ ] Contacts $25 [ ] Surgical correction $10
Total So Far: $860
Car Color: [ ]Gold – $525 [ ]Blue – $500 [ ]White – $475 [ ]Black – $450 [ ]Red – $400 [ ]Maroon – $400 [ ]Green- $350 [ ]Silver – $300 [ ]Purple- $250 [ ]Metallic – $200 [ ]Yellow – $100 [ ]Primer – $75 [ ]Rusted – $15 []No Car – $5 Total So Far: $865
Shoe Size: [ ]13+ – $300 [ ]11 to 12 – $200 [ ]8 to 10 – $100 [ ]Under 7 – $50 Total So Far: $965
Room Color: [ ]Black – $500 [ ]Blue – $475 [ ]Brown – $450 [ ]Purple – $425 [ ]White – $400 [ ]Green – $350 [ ]Orange – $300 [ ]Yellow – $200 [ ]Pink – $100 [ ]Other – $ 50
Total: $1165
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1. I recently started wearing glasses. 2. I’ve had dogs for as long as I can remember. 3. I liked Alanis Morissette more back in her “Jagged Little Pill” days. 4. I really don’t watch that much television. 5. One day, I want to climb a tree all the way to the top! 6. I always make a snowman every winter. 7. I wear the same necklace every day. 8. I’m supposed to be vacuuming right now. 9. I have to share a room, and I hate it. 10. I’m saving up for something big. 11. I don’t use the phrase ‘lol’ ever. 12. My hairdresser listens to Audioslave. 13. I call red-haired people Gingers. 14. I AM a Ginger! 15. Spiderman is my favorite Marvel comic character. 16. David Cook is SO wonderful 17. My nails are painted purple right now. 18. I’m always singing, all the time. 19. I have more than one best friend. 20. I love riding on the front of the boats. 21. My cat ran away! 22. I’m thinking about doing something different with my hair 23. I reeeally want to travel. 24. Rise Against is my favorite band. 25. I still don’t know how to drive. 26. My birthday is in August. 27. I absolutely love hamburgers! 28. Video games are one of my many obsessions. 29. I play expert on Guitar Hero. 30. I should really consider getting a job 31. I actually don’t have a MySpace. 32. But I do have Facebook, and I go on it all the time! 33. I have a pet snake. 34. I have been bitten by a snake before. 35. I would like to fill a kiddie pool with Jell-O and jump in! 36. My house has a Welcome mat. 37. I think I have OCD. 38. I have used the same project for two different classes. 39. I have failed an exam before. 40. Ice cream cake is the best kind of cake. 41. I love the show The Office. 42. My house has a hot tub, but nobody uses it. 43. There is a forest right behind my house. 44. I still like building forts. 45. I put cheese on almost everything. 46. My favorite sweater is gray. 47. My sister does drugs and thinks I don’t know! 48. I have what I like to call a “freckle tan.” 49. I’m having a sleepover at my house soon. 50. I should be studying right now. Or maybe doing that vacuuming.
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jehanjetaime · 7 years
Text
One Of Them
A short reincarnation fic for Barricade Day feat. famous musician Grantaire.
Also available (and with far better formatting) here on ao3.
“It’s not about suicide. Some of my songs are - everyone knows about my past and stuff - but this one is not. No one who has ever suffered through suicidal ideation truly glorifies it, and my song IS about glory, the search for it in hard times.”
The lights were hot, concentrated on both the indie-folk sensation R and the late night talk show host interviewing him. He was happy to be there, honestly, but surprised. R - stage name for Hercule Grantaire, 29 year old guitar and ukulele player - had never thought he would even live to that age, if he was honest, much less be plucked from his job at an obscure little book store and pulled into fame after a few of his songs went viral. Now he was here, on the insanely popular SunDown with Amelie Martel, handling the same questions everyone wanted to ask about his newest single.
“A lot of people are complaining that it really does sound as if you are not only glorifying suicide, but encouraging it in this song,” Amelie said, gesturing towards the side. Grantaire could see them on a screen off to the side, and watched as the video for his new song popped up on that screen. “Like, this part, right here.”
Not even famous performers liked to hear their voices over video, but Grantaire had accepted this fact of life now that people were constantly bringing him on TV shows and podcasts. He watched himself on screen, paused at the part he knew it would be paused at. The image jumped into action.
”And I said, I said,
‘Darling, I know you wanna go,
I know you wanna go with your head held high.’
You told me ‘I don’t want to go,
But I have to, lord, I have to,
It’s always been my duty to die.’
You never looked so beautiful,
Framed in red and gold
A statue made of hope and light
But things like that never support reality right.
I lett you take your final steps,
And did not close my eyes
But ran to you and took your hand.
It will be my pleasure to die.”
 The video paused. Grantaire looked out into the audience, but it was hard to make out faces. Amelie smiled at him.
“I see why people take what they do from it. But you’ll see, the whole album is themed with revolution, a group doomed to die for a cause they believe in. This is...just the end.” He heard the gunshots ring out, the cries of his friends, the sounds of soldiers on the cobblestones, all from 185 years ago. “I don’t know if anyone is familiar with the June Rebellion of 1832, but I’m really interested in history, and it was a fascinating thing - a group of schoolboys, college kids by our standards, rose up against the French government, and all of them were killed. It was a futile thing, really, but they hoped for the best. They weren’t scared, they just...stood up for what was right to them, and I think it’s inspirational. That really impacted the way this album came to be.”
And he hoped they were proud of him. Would Jehan like his lyrics? Would Courfeyrac approve of the way he was going to release it all for download for free? Would Combeferre appreciate the muted colours of the album cover?
Would Enjolras like that he was spreading word of what they had done?
He had to control the burning in his throat; they were on national TV, after all. No one he had ever met remembered the things he did.
It wasn’t normal to remember past lives, after all.
So Grantaire smiled and pushed his mop of black curls from his face. “It’s not about suicide because a person wants to die - it’s about martyrdom for a just cause that not enough believed in.”
“The song seems rather personal for something that happened so long ago!” the host said, taking a sip of coffee.
Grantaire had to hide a grimace. “The whole album is pretty personal. Nothing’s quite as deeply attached to a person as standing up for something they believe in.”
“It’s a beautiful song,” Amelie said. Then she turned to the audience. “And when we come back from break, you’ll hear it live.”
They all applauded and the hostess was taken over by people adjusting her hair and makeup. Grantaire abandoned his chair for the stoll and his guitar. Someone from the sound booth came over to make sure all of the audio was set up properly, and Grantaire took his seat on the stool. He waved to the audience, and he knew that he would be signing autographs for ages tonight. But meeting his fans was his favourite part of this, and the only reason he even let all of this happen.
The lights came back up, the ‘ON AIR’ sign lit up, and the director pointed to him. Grantaire strummed the first few bars of music, head ducked as always, before launching into the song itself.
’Love is not a victory march’
Cohen wrote it so,
But I think it was Wainwright did it true.
It was like they knew you,
Had shared hopes and dreams and drink and talk,
But didn’t live to hear it, did you?
You knew where to go,
You knew when to leave,
And leaving was all I felt worth.
 I still begged for your grace,
I begged for your look,
Never knew a thing of rebirth.
 And I said, I said,
‘Darling, I know you wanna go,
I know you wanna go with your head held high.’
 You told me ‘I don’t want to go,
But I have to, lord, I have to,
It’s always been my duty to die.’
 You never looked so beautiful,
Framed in red and gold
A statue made of hope and light
 But things like that never support reality right.
 I let you take your final steps,
And did not close my eyes
But ran to you and took your hand.
It will be my pleasure to die.
 There was no pain
There was no fear,
There was no heavenly sign.
 But we were there,
And on the brink of death,
I felt your hand in mine.”
 He strummed the last chords of the song and repeated the last stanza to the start of a sea of applause. Grantaire raised his hand as the lights went down on hims and went back up on Amelie and her next guest. He was glad to slip out in the darkness. Grantaire went to his dressing room and chatted with some of the staff and crew before meeting with a couple people from the audience who had backstage passes.
As always, he looked through the crowd for any of his friends.
As always, it was a sea of strangers. But Grantaire talked with each one of them and signed things, took selfies and sent out Snapchats with them. He tried to get his face out to the public as much as possible not for fame, not for money, but for one thing.
If anyone else had been reincarnated, he wanted them to know he was out there.
The rest of the night was a blur of signing autographs both in and outside the building. He did enjoy chatting with his fans, with the security, with anyone, but with every single person that was not Joly, not Bossuet, not Feuilly, Grantaire’s heart sunk a little. Perhaps that was it, though. His first album had been very personal, but this one? This one was about his friends, their mission, their deaths.
The Man Who Bled Truth for sweet Jehan. They Were Laughter for Joly and Bossuet. Courfeyrac had Keep On, Combeferre had A Blue Sweater and Golden Ideas.  Feuilly took a turn in a song named only People and Pontmercy even took the stage with Doe Eyes. He had fashioned an instrumental for Éponine named Could Have Been Soft. Grantaire never knew if he would be able to perform Wings, because two hundred years had passed and he still was not ready for life without Gavroche. There were other, more general songs along the same theme on the album as well.
And then there was One of Them the hardest song of them all to sing, the one he had just performed, the one he wanted to make sure everyone heard.
If Enjolras was out there, Grantaire could not let this song pass him by.
After a long night of greeting fans, Grantaire took off on his own for his a 24-hour diner. He ordered food and sat in the back corner, hood up, not wanting to talk to anybody. It was nearly 3 in the morning by the time he got his food, and he was surprised to hear someone else come in the diner. Grantaire did not look up.
Not even when he heard the theme song of SunDown with Amelie start. Already time for the repeat? Grantaire didn’t necessarily want to watch the interview with himself, so he pulled out his headphones.
As he did, the person who came in asked for a menu, then paused. “I always thought that R was handsome,” said a voice that sounded male.
“Wow, shocker there,” the server said with a laugh. It became readily apparent that they knew each other. “He’s completely your type.”
Grantaire decided to...leave his headphones out for a moment. He listened to his own voice on TV as they went through the beginning of the interview. The person at the counter chuckled in a way that Grantaire though was very warm and welcoming. “I guess he is. Always reminded me of an old boyfriend I had. Well, someone I probably had a crush on as a kid. Couldn’t for the life of me tell you where I knew him from or his name or anything.”
“That sounds like you,” the server said. “Too wrapped up in your work to remember that sorta stuff right?”
They both laughed and the person placed his order. Grantaire got back to his own food as the TV went on with commercials, then back to his interview.  When he heard the dreaded question - “Some groups have said that this song is just one of many you’ve done about suicide.”
The person behind him made some sort of sound, but he couldn’t decipher it. “And that’s something else - R is so open about his mental illnesses and the stigma from it. That’s something to admire.”
He couldn’t help it - his cheeks burned. Grantaire would never get used to people saying he was admirable; that didn’t mean he didn’t like it, though. He smiled a little and took a bite of his fries. They quieted as the clip of his song started, and part of him wanted to turn around, pull his hood down, and call out ‘Surprise,’ but he would control himself.
“...that’s. Odd,” the customer said. “No one ever knows about the June Rebellion. It’s something I’ve always liked to read about, felt some sort of connection to…”
A thoughtful sound and a creaking, perhaps as the person leaned forward.
The song clip came on, but the two people behind him sort of chatted through it. Grantaire didn’t mind. There was a clinking as the person’s food was set down and the commercials ran their course. He went back to his food and let it continue, until the show returned and his own playing filled the air. This time, the diner was quiet. He didn’t even hear the other customer eating as the song went on.
Until it reached the last couple stanzas. But I have to, lord, I have to, it’s always been my duty to die. Another clink, and the customer whispered, “Oh my god.”
“What is it?” the server asked.
“Wait…” The entire diner seemed to freeze as the song ended. “Wait…”
Footsteps as the person stood and moved around. Staggering steps. “I don’t,” he said, voice suddenly week. “I don’t feel well...dizzy, I…”
At the sound of a body hitting the floor, Grantaire whipped around.
Golden curls splayed out on the checkered diner tiles. A red hoodie spread under a small, lithe body. Brown lips were partially open, eyes closed under a stern brow.
A cry escaped Grantaire’s lips as he took in Enjolras unconscious on the ground before him. “Holy shit,” he said, stumbling towards the body. “Oh holy shit, holy shit, Enj…”
The last time Grantaire had seen him, they had been close to death, he had been barely smiling, and we was dressed in a red coat. Now he was modern, pierced, tattooed, and instantly, overwhelmingly recognizable. “Call 911!” he called, looking up to the server. “Hurry!”
His hood had fallen. “Oh my god” the server said. “You’re - “
“It doesn’t matter who I am - call 911!”
Grantaire felt for Enjolras’ pulse, touching that skin he would have killed to touch almost 200 years ago. “He’s still breathing…”
Just at the server was telling 911 their address, Enjolras’ eyes fluttered back open. Grantaire smiled at him. “Hey there...you okay? Stay still for m, don’t try to move…”
Enjolras looked distant and lost, brown eyes unfocused. “...you died with me,” he whispered, and Grantaire’s heart skipped a beat. “We’re dead…”
“We were,” Grantaire whispered, hardly able to believe this and not wanting to miss his chance. “But we’re not, don’t worry. We can talk later. I’m here, you’re safe, we’ll keep you alright, get you to a hospital, and we have a life time left to talk.”
“A lifetime,” Enjolras whispered. He raised a shaking hand to Grantaire’s cheek. “You...you died with me…”
Grantaire could never remember if people who hit their head should stay awake, so he urged Enjolras to stay awake until they heard the wailing of the ambulance. Grantaire paid for both of their meals, then jumped in his car and followed that ambulance to the hospital.
He would have followed it to the end of the world.
 <b>~~~</b>
 “Mr. Grantaire?” a tired sounding nurse said.
He raised his head after what felt like hours; a glance at the clock told him it had only been 20 minutes. “Yes?”
“He’s awake now.”
Grantaire followed her to the room and thanked her profusely. No one would tell him what was going on, but as angry as he was he understood - there was no proof anywhere that Grantaire was, or ever had been, anything to Enjolras. But the hospital staff had let him stay, and were letting him see Enjolras now.
He entered the room quietly. Enjolras blinked those big eyes at him and Grantaire nearly fell apart. But...would he remember now?
“I saw you a hundred times on the Internet and TV,” he said, voice a little raw. “But until tonight...I didn’t know it was you. Or who I was…
“And then you were in the same diner. It’s almost to convenient to be true.” Enjolras reached a hand out for Grantaire.
“Or it’s fate,” Grantaire said. “I was the only one who remembered, I’ve been searching, I’ve been looking and hoping…”
He took Enjolras’ hand, held it tight. Enjolras was here. Enjolras remembered him.
Grantaire was never letting go of his hand again. “We have a lifetime, alright? A lifetime….”
Enjolras shook his head, then seemed to regret it. “I...I’m sorry. I got you...and everyone, you all - “
“Shh. No, Enjolras. We all knew what we were getting into, alright? I don’t blame you. And I’m sure that, wherever the others are, none of them blame you, either. We’ll find them, the same way I found you, and I promise, things will be good. We have another chance.”
“Stay with me?” Enjolras asked, letting his eyes flutter closed.
Grantaire smiled, a tear winding down his cheek. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
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8rtisoc · 7 years
Text
Writing Prompts
(1)"Do you want me to leave?" (2)"You can't keep doing this." (3)"I'm going to take care of you, okay?" (4)"Don't ask me that." (5)"I could kiss you right now!" (6)"I shouldn't be in love with you." (7)"Just admit I'm right." (8)"Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you've been dying to ask?" (9)"When you love someone, you don't just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy... even then. Especially then!" (10)"I think I've been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again. (11)"This is, by far, the dumbest thing you've ever done." (12)"Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you." (13)"I am not losing you again." (14)"I just need to be alone right now." (15)"I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot." (16)"I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking." (17)"I think I'm in love with you and that scares me half to death." (18)"I fell in love with my best friend." (19)"It's okay to cry." (20)"Look at me-just breathe, okay?" (21)"What are you afraid of?" (22)"You need to wake up because I can't do this without you." (23)"You're safe now. I've got you." (24)"Just once." (25)"I don't care what they said, it doesn't mean shit!" (26)"Do you love me?" (27)"What if I say no?" (28)"How could you do this to me?" (29)"You've got thirty seconds to tell me why you're here." (30"That's the nice thing about telling the truth. You don't have nearly as much to keep track of." (31)"I can't do this anymore..." (32)"You think you are so good-looking, but deep down you are so ugly that photoshop can't fix you!" (33)"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?" (34)"What are you doing here? It's 2AM." (35)"I should have told you this a long time ago..." (36)"That's not a great look." (37)"I know you're here, show yourself." (38)"Why are you helping me?" (39)"I didn't even recognize you!" (40)"I didn't ask for your love!" (41)"I didn't need your saving!" (42)"Well aren't you cute?" (43)"After you left, I can't stop thinking about you." (44)"Well, that could have gone better..." (45)"Did you regret us? Being together?" (46)"I thought you were dead! You can't do that to me!" (47)"I thought you were leaving? Are you still pissed at me?" (48)"I can't pretend anymore that there isn't something here. Please tell me you feel the same," (49)"Shut up and kiss me already." (50)"Sorry for calling late-I needed to hear your voice." (51)"I need you more than you need me." (52)"I want to be able to kiss you in public but we can't..." (53)"You can't give up yet... We haven't been together forever yet." (54)"You, me, Netflix?" (55)"I wish I could have told you I love you sooner but you wouldn't listen." (56)"I miss you more than you think." (57)"I'm not jealous, but you are mine not his." (58)"He doesn't hurt you, does he?" (59)"You broke my heart! That can't be fixed with an 'I love you' That's not how life works!" (60)"...and now I have a playlist of songs I can't listen to, because every damned lyric reminds me of you." (61)"You're in love with him aren't you?" (62)"Does he know?" (63)"It's okay, you don't have to love me." (64)"Every time I closed my eyes, I see you and only you." (65)"There's only one thing..." (66)"Some days it just felt better to hide away from the world and pretend you weren't awake." (67)"You aren't concerned?" (68)"Yes I'm drunk, and you're beautiful." (69)"There's that word again." (70)"If I lay here, would you lie with me?" (71)"You stole my heart! I'll never forgive you for that!" (72)"Dammit! Look at me!" (73)"Why can't you..." (74)"There is no one else! Because if there was, all I will be thinking of is you." (75)"What if I screw this up?" (76)"I love you and that shouldn't be a crime. But it is." (77)"It was always you. No one else. I was just..." (78)"My home isn't a home without you in it." (79)"Missing someone is one of the hardest feelings in the world. Because it's a deep reminder that you love them." (80)"Remember, I love you." (81)"I can have anyone I want. But I chose you because your the only one I could and truly love." (82)"Are you okay? Because you don't seem like you." (83)"I fell in love for the first time. And I hope you will be the last." (84)"You weren't supposed to fall in love with someone like me. I'm lost and broken, and you are here and all put together." (85)"If I commit to someone, I commit to their problems." (86)"Why shouldn't  I smile?" (87)"Everyone is so nice, until they drive you to kill yourself!" (88)"Why me? What did I do?" (89)"You cared, just not enough." (90)"My walls went up, but my confidence went down." (91)"Let go of my hand!" (92)"Memories are the worst form of torture. Because it shows how times can be good instead of all bad!" (93)"It hurts to love you! Because..." (94)"I told you to sit the fuck down!" (95)"I'm broken because of you!" (96)"Say something. Please." (97)"I don't care that people were staring, I ran to you anyway and jumped into your arms." (98)"That's a bit much, don't ya think?" (99)"I saw you, and only you, everyone else disappeared and it was only you." (100)"Loving you was the hardest thing I could do, but look at me now?" (101)"I don't care where I'm sleeping, as long as you are right by my side." (102)"I didn't believe in love at first sight, not until I saw you in the giant crowd of people." (103)"I never had a chance, did I?" (104)"I watched you walk with him and it broke my heart every time." (105)"You're not going to loose me." (106) "I'm not going to apologize for this. Not anymore." (107) "Stop saying things that make me wanna kiss you!" (108) "I thought you forgot about me." (109) "Please, say something other than 'I'm sorry.'" (110) "Love me back already!" (111) "I don't want you to be just a memory, I want you to be a reality." (112) "I hope that was your last first kiss." (113) "Tell me how you feel! Because I can't feel anything if I don't know how you feel!" (114) "Couldn't our last memory been more, well, memorable!" (115) "You weren't supposed to hear that," (116) "You love me?" (117) "I know this sounds cheesy, but I didn't fall in love with you, you tripped me and I am so glad you did." (118) "You should smile more, it's quite adorable." (119) "If only you knew how much it hurts not to..." (120) "Pretending not to love you was the hardest thing I have ever done." (121) "I was always a romantic." (122) "I wanted to say it first!" (123) "See this fork, use it to eat the breakfast your amazing [boyfriend/girlfriend] prepared for you." (124) "People change for the good and for the bad." (125) "I did it because I was tired of not being able to protect the one person that means the most to me!" (126) "I am exactly where I need to be." (127) "Promise me that..." (128) "I don't care what you can't tell me, I care about you, I love you. Do you hear me!" (129) "I just want to lay in bed and listen to sad music all day." (130) "Why do you always have to save me?" (131) "I missed everything about you." (132) "If you love someone, it's worth fighting for, no matter what the odds are." (133) "I might look like I'm strong, but I break." (134) "God, you deserve an Oscar for that performance!" (135) "Once I say something funny, and everyone else is laughing, I look for your laughter first." (136) "Don't you say that, not you." (137) "Make me..." (138) "Is that my shirt?" (139) "If you walk out that door, were done! That's it!" (140) "Don't you die on me, I need you." (141) "I can't keep fighting like this." (142) "Where were you when I needed you?" (143) "I just want you to be happy." (144) "It's time to say goodbye." (145) "I wish I could say I didn't love you. But that's impossible." (146) "I'll protect you, no matter what." (147) "No, please don't go." (148) "I'm not going to let you harm yourself anymore! I can't!" (149) "I'm with you, okay? Always." (150) "I thought you loved me." (151) "You are not the only one suffering right now!" (152) "Why are you like this?" (153) "If you really loved me, you'll let me go." (154) "Why are you looking at me like that?" (155) "Because I love you god damn it!" (156) ""I could hold you forever." (157) "Every time I see you, I fall deeper and deeper in love with you." (158) "This is hard for me too." (159) "I'm in love, dammit." (160) "I'd rather die." (161) "Do you want to talk about it?" (162) "You don't have to be alone." (163) "Hear my heart beat? Just focus on that, love." (164) "Please don't ever leave again." (165) "Okay yes, I'm in love with you." (166) "You don't have to fight this alone." (167) "My cheeks flush every time someone says their name. How am I not obvious?" (168) "Please don't walk out that door again. It hurts too much." (169) "I'm not sure of anything anymore love." (170) "Will you be my person?" (171) "You're coming with me, whether you like it or not." (172) "Stop staring, it's getting creepy." (173) "You make me feel something I never felt before. And it's terrifying me." (174) "Why are you such an ass?" (175) "Sorry, but she's mine." (176) I got wise because I started watching Dr. Phil. Thank you very much." (177) "Only an idiot would fall in love with someone like me." (178) "Just shut your face!" (179) "Wow, your so clever!" (180) "Shut up! That was only one time! And it wasn't my fault!" (181) "I'm complicated, it's one of my many charms! Deal with it!" (182) "I'm okay, you're okay, we're okay." (183) "I love you, and all the shit that comes with you!" (184) "Being in love is more exciting than I thought." (185) "You're not that stupid to fall in love with me, are you?" (186) "Do you not remember me?" (187) "Loving someone takes time and determination. That's why a lot of people fall out of love. It's too hard. But I'm willing to stick with it, for you." (188) "...I took the light she once had in her eyes." (189) "I'm not a person another person falls in love with. I'm not." (190) "Darling, just hold on." (191) "You don't understand what you do to me when you hold his hand." (192) "I don't care what people say when we are together." (193) "We're supposed to settle down, and get married together. What happened?" (194) "All my favorite conversations, are with you." (195) "You know, I'm always going back to this place." (196) "...and I don't want to let this go." (197) "Please don't make me say goodbye, again." (198) "Does it make you feel alive?" (199) "Can you guys stop acting like a couple?! It's disgusting!" (200) "Yeah, you look happier, you do." (201) "I think I'm in love with her." (202) "Maybe I do believe it, all this 'meant to be' stuff." (203) "I need your cuddles." (204) "I need you to come over." (205) "Plan A was marrying her a long, long time ago." (206) "We've been waiting long enough. It's time." (207) "I hate watching you walk away from me. I'm not going to let you walk away anymore!" (208) "Only you can make me feel that way." (209) "To be with you, it's all I want you." (210) "I'm not perfect, but you make me feel perfect." (211) "When I talk to you, I fall in love with more and more." (212) "Why does loving someone have to be so complicated?" (213) "DNA doesn't make a family, love does." (214) "You don't know anything about me!" (215) "There isn't anyway, anyone can teach me a way not to love you!" (216) "We didn't lie, we just didn't tell you." (217) "No, because we screw boys like whores on tequila." (218) "Hi honey!" (219) "You made me love you!" (220) "I'm not good at relationships or talking about stupid feelings." (221) "I had a chance to become better, and I screwed it up." (222) "My little broken heart wishes you two would shut up." (223) "I turned out okay because you left." (224) "I always screw up anything good." (225) "Maybe I am an ass. Wait, I am an ass." (226) "Is it me?" (227) "The problem is we're human." (228) "Oh, but I did." (229) "The almost kiss." (230) "I tried to tell him I loved him, but I opened my mouth and nothing came out." (231) "I already hate you, that's not going to change." (232) "You did a terrible thing. That doesn't mean your a terrible person." (233) "You don't get to talk anymore." (234) "I'm busy holding myself together with tape and glue." (235) "... butterfingers over there is just down right depressing." (236) "Oh, screw beautiful, I'm brilliant." (237) "I'll just take your number." (238) "But still, I'm too late." (239) "Have you met..." (240) "When I get sad, I stop being sad, and just be awesome instead." (241) "Nothing good happens after 2:00 AM. You hear me?" (242) "Wait for it." (243) "No this is not a test." (244) "What did I do to hurt you? Tell me because obviously I don't know." (245) "I know you wanna leave so c'mon baby, be with me so happily." (246) "Sorry, love, I really don't care." (247) "Oh, baby, look what you've done to me." (248) "Don't give it up just yet." (249) "I just want to see the stars with you." (250) "...never really knowing why." (251) "We should take this back to my place." (252) "Take my hand, take my whole life too." (253) "I love you, and that's all that matters." (254) "I will always come and find you." (255) "I need you to know the truth, and be okay with it." (256) "Don't play with my heart." (257) "Maybe... We will fall in love again, but it just takes time." (258) "Make sure you come back to me. Okay?" (259) "Stop telling me that! You don't believe it!" (260) "Falling out of love is like falling down a never ending cliff." (261) "Are you, are you judging me?" (262) "I told you I'm not cold." (263) "Do your cheeks always blush? Or is it only when I come around?" (264) "Babe, I said I was sorry. And I won't stop being sorry, ever." (265) "Why can't you look at me like you look at her? Huh?" (266) "Go to hell!" (267) "I still love you. I haven't stopped. And I won't stop. You just have to believe that. (268) "If I tell you I... You know... Care about you... Would you laugh at me?" (269) "I said no! You almost died! Don't you understand that? I almost lost you!" (270) "I need to hold you, will you let me hold you? Just for a little bit. Would you mind?" (271) "Everyone thinks we're a couple." (272) "Come back home soon, sweetheart. Everyone misses you." (273) "Please, talk to me. I need to hear your voice or I'll go insane." (274) "I love you. Hear that? I love you. I love you." (275) "I need to talk to you and I need you to listen." (276) "I wish I learned how to love sooner." (278) "We were never going to go somewhere." (279) "Our love will never die." (280) "Please, let me go! Let me leave and never come back!" (281) "The more you talk, the more stupid you sound." (282) "If I can't kill anyone than you can't kill anyone. It's only fair." (283) "Yeah? So? Are you in?" (284) "You said not to panic!" (285) "If you die, I'll never forgive you." (286) "Yeah. I'll bring donuts. But for tonight, I'm done." (287) "I assure you I have a very important reason. If I wasn't drunk, I'm sure I could think of it too." (288) "I can't." (289) "I can't hear their voice anymore. No matter how hard I try, I just don't remember. What their voice sounded like, their laugh their cry....nothing." (290) "Life is weird, get used to it." (291) "It's very rude of you to make me fall in love with you. Inconsiderate, really." (292) "You're dating my best friend, is that supposed to make me happy?" (293) "That's not my fault." (294) "You don't even know me." (295) "I was kind of thinking...hoping, rather...that you were in love with me. When I see you, time stops. But I guess the clock keeps ticking for you, you never could wait." (296) "Lucky for you, that's what I like." (297) "No, don't come over to me! Don't touch me! Don't look at me. Just leave!" (298) "I never believed in love, until I met you." (299) "Do I look, fancy enough?" (300) "For god sake, can't you see how much I love you?" (301) "Come home." (302) "I think it's time we get you help." (303) "Please stay, and don't ever leave again." (304) I'm sorry for not realizing this sooner." (305) "I love you and that will never change. No matter how much we change as people. I will still always love you." (306) "I love you and that will never change. No matter how much we change as people. I will still always love you." (307) "No, no, no, NO! You don't get to do this. No!" (308) "I couldn't tell you, because I messed up, again. And I can't stop messing up anything." (309) "Why can't you notice me? Am I not up to your standards of beautiful?" (310) "Your biting your lip. You always do that when your nervous." (311) "Stop! Do you hear yourself?" (312) "You don't get to say your in love with me and run off to South America, expecting me to be okay with it!" (313) "I can't, I can't look at you without seeing someone else." (314) "Promise me..." (315) "Just stop your crying." (316) "I can't help you until you calm down." (317) "I can't help you until you calm down." (318) "Call 9-1-1! Hurry! He needs help!" (319) "For god sake!" (320) "God don't you understand?"
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entergamingxp · 4 years
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How Can I Write About Video Games Right Now?
June 3, 2020 3:00 PM EST
How can I possibly write about video games right now? It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a while now.
Featured image credit: Tyler Tomasello/Zuma/Rex/Shutterstock via The Guardian.
How can I possibly write about video games right now?
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a while now. With the world seemingly burning down around me, writing about video games seems like the least important thing in the world. And, to be fair, even before 2020 started, most of this job felt somewhat superfluous.
I mean, I obviously value games criticism and love getting to add dumb jokes about Waluigi being grown in a vat at Nintendo, but I don’t place some huge level of importance on my job. It’s good work. It’s (usually) fun work. But I wouldn’t call it strictly necessary.
While this has been something on my mind for a few months now, the events of the past few days have really brought it to the forefront. Does the world really need me to talk about the Sega Game Gear Micro when so many people are out protesting against police brutality every night? Do I even want to publish an impressions article for Bug Fables when it could, theoretically, take eyes away from important news taking place around the country?
The easy answer is undoubtedly, unequivocally no. In the grand scheme of things, video games aren’t that important. However, in 2020 there really aren’t any easy answers.
As I struggle to answer the question for myself and decide the best course of action to take, I can’t help but think back to my childhood. Growing up in rural Oklahoma, racism was pretty common. My graduating class had around 185 kids and only one of us was black. The only other black kid in my high school was his younger brother.
I remember very vividly showing up to a Halloween dance off-campus and seeing a group of seniors outside handing out forms to join the KKK. Hopefully, it was just a bad joke, but, given some of the other stuff I witnessed, I wouldn’t be surprised. At one of our after-proms, a few kids showed up in white hoods. In my first year of college, a good friend told me, in great detail, his plan to shoot President Obama if he got elected.
And the most terrifying thing to me is that I just had to see it. I never had to live with that fear that I can only imagine every single day of my life.
It’s weird thinking back on growing up in such a backward place. Like, how did I come out of that not being a complete racist? A lot of it probably has to do with my parents being decent people, but I think I owe a decent amount of gratitude to video games.
I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up and got bullied for being overweight quite a bit. So, like many, I turned to video games to escape my reality. Sure, there was only one person who would talk to me in homeroom. But if I could click buttons well enough, people loved my barbarian in Diablo 2.
One of the most formative games from my childhood is, without a doubt, NBA Street Vol. 2. But it’s not the gameplay that has been so incredibly influential on my life, it’s the soundtrack.
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Featuring tracks from artists like Black Sheep, Talib Kweli, Pete Rock, and CL Smooth, that collection of music shaped most of my musical interests to this day. While everyone else in my school was listening to Garth Brooks or Britney Spears, I was downloading every track from Nas, De La Soul, and Mos Def I could find on LimeWire (y’all remember LimeWire?). I was actively engaging in learning more about a culture I would never in a million years encounter inside my own little bubble.
That’s not to say that listening to hip hop made me understand the plight of being a black person in America. I could never do that. I’m also not saying that knowing all the lyrics to most of Common’s library makes me not a racist. I am still a racist. Don’t doubt that for a second. It might not be overt racism, but it’s still there.
Case in point, over the past few days several of my colleagues at DualShockers, people I love and respect, are getting opportunities to jump on a bigger platform and talk about what all this means to them. 99% of me was immediately elated for them. However, there’s that little voice inside saying “hey, I work just as hard as anybody here, and I never get asked to be on podcasts. What the heck?”
And in that moment, I know I still have so much work to do. I absolutely work hard, and if I keep doing it well, I’ll get my own opportunity, but me internally whining about not getting on a podcast is such a joke. “Come on, dude,” I have to exasperatedly say to myself.
So, NBA Street Vol. 2’s soundtrack didn’t magically cure me of my racism. But, it did make me see it. It made me know it was there. And, most importantly, it made me recognize how easily ingrained it is. Which is something that never would’ve happened without the game.
That’s why I think it’s important to keep writing about video games. Because there are some incredible creators out there, making things that more people need to see. And the only way I see for us to move forward as a people is to start to actually recognize and empathize with people who are “different”: whether that’s skin color, sexual orientation, or whatever.
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If I can put somebody on to their own NBA Street Vol. 2, then I’ve done my job as a games writer and a human being. Plus, it’s not like my personal journey to become not just an overt racist, and instead actively anti-racist, began and ended in 2003. That’s obviously a battle I’m still fighting today by seeking out these games and other media for myself. It’s a fight that I want to continue to fight each and every day.
One of my unspoken goals at DualShockers has always been to highlight smaller games. If you take the time to go back through my published articles, you’ll notice I cover a lot of indie titles. That’s on purpose. In many ways, those games are more important than much of what the AAA side of the industry is putting out. Those titles are highlighting underrepresented creators or telling stories that probably wouldn’t sell a million copies. But they’re meaningful. They’re needed. They push us as people forward.
Unfortunately, what hasn’t always been on purpose for me is looking for games made by or starring people of color. Sure, I’ll highlight them if the game looks cool, but I don’t actively seek them out. Most of the time I really don’t pay attention to the person behind the games I’m playing or writing about. I think it’s time to change that.
So, look for more of that in the future out of me. In the meantime, check out Umurangi Generation, Dandara, and Afterparty. Those games are rad and worth a look. I also think we’ll have a separate article up soon that will be of interest.
And if anybody reads this and wants me to come on your podcast, I’m not available. That said, I know a few excellent people who are.
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Additionally, here are some resources and a select few gaming-focused forms of media to share. Bear in mind that there are many more scattered around social media and websites.
Black Lives Matter has a resources page that you can visit that will take you to numerous PDFs, for example, the Healing Justice Toolkit was created to “collate, condense, and share the lessons we have learned in ensuring that our direct actions are centered on healing justice.”
Jesse Sparks published a blog post titled, “7 Virtual Mental Health Resources Supporting Black People Right Now” In a time where there’s a lot of tension and activity, this could prove useful for those who may need some support.
This document titled, “Anti-Racism Resources” is a list of various types of media that act as a “resource to white people and parents to deepen our anti-racism work”. It’s extensive, but very detailed and worth reading.
The Spawn On Me Podcast looks to spotlight people of color in the gaming industry and is hosted by Kahlief Adams.
Gamertag Radio is a podcast about video games hosted by Parris Lilly, Danny Peña, and Peter Toledo.
Spotify also released a Black Lives Matter playlist featuring songs about empowerment and pride featuring a lot of Black and POC artists.
Game Devs of Color Expo has tweeted for Black game developers who may need support.
Black Game Developers is a website that showcases Black game developers across the world.
Here are some charities and movement suggestions you may wish to consider supporting.
June 3, 2020 3:00 PM EST
from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/06/how-can-i-write-about-video-games-right-now/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=how-can-i-write-about-video-games-right-now
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jitemauryavanshi · 4 years
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These are the best compliments for girls because they just make her feel good. so you can use them confidently. Most of the time, the best approach to complimenting someone is just being direct. Sure, an indirect compliment can be useful, but if you’re going to do something, why not go all the way with it? As long as you don’t come on too strong, a compliment is a kind gesture that can really brighten her day. Don’t expect her to immediately jump into your arms. Your goal is to plant a seed that may blossom into romance eventually. These are compliments, not pick-up lines. When in doubt, slip these compliments subtly and naturally into conversation when it feels right. You can also compliment a girl out of nowhere, but that’s a bigger move. Start slow, gauge her reaction, and then decide how to proceed for the next time. Here are Many best compliments for girls: 1. You are gorgeous. 2. You are lovely. 3. You do not need makeup. You are already so naturally beautiful. 4. 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With you in my life, everything just makes sense. 81. You fill up an empty space in my heart that I never knew existed. 82. You make me feel so full in my heart and in my soul. 83. I could listen to you talk for hours and never get tired of it. 84. I love how confident you are. It makes me even more attracted to you. 85. You smell so nice. 86. You are always the most beautiful woman in the room. 87. My friends love you. And that is how I know that you are the real deal. 88. My parents love you. That is how I know that you are the right girl for me. 89. I love how well you get along with my family. 90. You are a part of the family now. 91. You are everything to me. 92. You are my whole world. 93. You are my entire universe. 94. You complete me. 95. Being with you means the world to me. 96. Being with you has made me so happy. Report this ad 97. You are the first thing that I want to wake up to every morning and the last thing I want to see before I fall asleep. I want my days to begin and end with you. 98. Without you standing by my side, my life would have no meaning or purpose. 99. I would rather spend time with you than with my friends tonight. 100. I cannot keep my eyes off of you. 101. You are the best friend that a girl could ever ask for. 102. You are such a thoughtful friend. 103. You are a generous friend. 104. Whenever I need a friend to talk to, you are the first person I turn to. 105. You are the very meaning of friendship. 106. You are what I call a forever friend. 107. You are my best friend for life. 108. Through thick and thin, I can always count on you to be my friend. 109. Thank you for always being there for me. You are a true friend, the best kind of friend that a girl could ask for. 110. True friends are like diamonds. And you are the most precious diamond of all. 111. Girls need to stick together. Thanks for being a great friend and sticking with me through it all. 112. You cannot choose your family, but you can choose your friends. And I sure am glad that I chose you. Thank you for being my friend. 113. Thank you for being such a loyal friend in such a messed up world. 114. I do not know where I would be without such a great friend like you in my life. 115. Thank you for never getting tired of me. You are a true friend. 116. You are my best friend, my partner in crime. 117. Good friends are hard to find, so I am especially grateful that we found each other. 118. You, my friend, are the cat’s pajamas. 119. Chocolate is great, but your friendship is even better. 120. You are the friend that everyone wishes that they had. 121. Our friendship is like a special cup of tea. It is a special blend of you and me. 122. I am so happy that our paths crossed and that we are friends. 123. Friends are cheaper than therapy, so thank you for saving me a lot of money over the years. 124. I am lucky that friendship does not come with price tags. 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As a mother, you taught your children how to be strong and kind. Report this ad 170. You raised really good people. 171. You did a really great job as a mother. 172. Thank you for taking care of our family so well. 173. The kind of mom that you are makes it so much easier for me to be the dad that I need to be for our kids. 174. Your kids are amazing. 175. Your kids are so well-behaved. 176. Your kids are so smart. 177. I am amazed by all of the things that you do as a mom. 178. You are such a dedicated mother. 179. Your kids are always so happy. 180. I love your child’s name. 181. You have such a beautiful family. 182. Your child looks just like you. 183. Your kid is like your mini-me. 184. Thank you for keeping our family together. 185. You keep our family strong. 186. You are the glue that holds our family together. 187. Our family is so strong because you hold it together. 188. Thank you for nurturing our kids and giving them the guidance that they need in life. 189. The love that you show for our kids has made them into the most amazing people. 190. I am so glad that I asked you to marry me, and I am even happier that you said yes. 191. Thank you for making me the luckiest and happiest man in the world by marrying me. 192. You make me such a happy husband. 193. Even after all these years, I still fall in love with you over and over again. If anything, I love you even more now. 194. Thank you for not only being my wife, but my best friend as well. 195. I wish I could marry you all over again because marrying you is the best thing that I have ever done. 196. Thank you for being such an amazing wife who has never stopped loving me and caring about me. 197. You are smart 198. You are sweet. 199. You are worth knowing. 200. You are so much fun to be around. 201. You make life so much more interesting. 202. My life was a little boring before you came around. 203. You are such a great listener. 204. You are such a firecracker. 205. You are as cute as a bug’s ear. 206. I love how sassy you are. 207. I love that you do not care what anyone thinks about you. 208. I love that you are true to yourself. 209. Your laugh is infectious. 210. You are a smart cookie. 211. You are a clever girl. 212. You always light up a room when you are in one. 213. I am so grateful to know you. 214. I am so lucky to have met you. 215. Knowing you has been such an honor. 216. You have an amazing sense of humor. 217. You really know how to make me laugh. 218. You are enough. 219. You are stronger than you realize. 220. I love how passionate you are. 221. You are so well-mannered. 222. You are so smart. 223. You are so creative. 224. I love how honest you always are. 225. You have such a kind heart. 226. I love how you stay calm and collected in any situation. 227. You are making a difference in this world. 228. Thank you for always being there for me. 229. You always have a way of bringing out the best in people. 230. You are such a ray of sunshine, especially when the days feel so dreary. 231. You are the kindest woman I know. 232. You are the wisest woman I have ever met. 233. I love hearing you laugh. It makes me smile. 234. You are so great when it comes to giving gifts. You also know exactly what people will love. 235. You gave me such a thoughtful gift. Thank you. 236. I am so proud of you and everything that you continue to accomplish. 237. If anyone can do this, it is you. I believe in you. 238. I know that you can do anything that you set your mind to. 239. You are the best version of yourself so far. 240. You have already accomplished so much. 241. I love that you never seem to second-guess yourself. 242. I love how confident you are. 243. You carry yourself with so much maturity Report this ad 244. You are such a well-spoken woman. 245. You radiate so much confidence. 246. You are so mature for your age. 247. When you speak, everyone in the room listens to you. 248. You are a funny girl. 249. You are talented. 250. You are strong. 251. You are so helpful. 252. You are full of class. 253. You are very clever. 254. You are always very cheerful. 255. You are so fearless. 256. You are a tenacious woman. 257. You are feisty. 258. You are fabulous. 259. You are fierce. 260. You are fantastic. 261. You are intelligent. 262. You are funny. 263. I love your curiosity. 264. You are perfect just the way you are. 265. Even though nobody is perfect, there is nothing about you that I would change. I love you as you are. 266. You never fail to surprise me, and I love that about you. 267. You are irreplaceable. 268. You are all that and a bag of chips. 269. I really love talking to you. 270. If only there were more people like you in the world. 271. You bring so much light into my life. 272. I am so unbelievably proud of you. 273. You are the epitome of girl power. 274. Girls run the world and you are a prime example of that. 275. You are the essence of a truly strong woman. 276. You are amazing. 277. You are such a good person. 278. You are so selfless. 279. You move so well on the dance floor. 280. You are such a great dancer. 281. You have a beautiful voice. 282. You are so fun to be around. 283. You are always the life of the party. 284. You have such excellent taste. 285. My life would suck without you. 286. You are the weirdest person that I have ever met. And I mean that in a good way. 287. There is never a dull moment with you around. 288. Anyone would be lucky to know you. 289. Never forget how amazing you are. 290. You are enough. 291. You have touched my life. 292. You have made such a big difference in my life. 293. You know how to make people feel special. That is a gift. 294. You have such a kind soul. 295. You are such a good person. 296. You are a joy to be around. 297. I never have more fun than when I am with you. 298. You really know how to throw a party. 299. You really know how to have fun. 300. You make the best drinks. 301. You are the best cook. 302. You are an amazing baker. 303. You are so artistic. 304. You have a way of making everything you do look so easy. 305. You have such a great way with words. 306. You amaze me with everything that you do. 307. I do not know how you do everything that you do. You are superwoman. 308. When I think of strong women, I think of you. 309. You are a woman that I really admire and look up to. 310. I Always Learn So Much From You. 311. You’ve Got Such Nice Eyes/Lips/Teeth/Hair. 312. You’re Hilarious! 313. You’re Not Like Everyone Else. 314. You’re Sexy. 315. You’re Good At What You Do. 316. You Look Great Today. 317. You Have Such A Positive Charisma. 318. I Like Your Style. 319. Your Hair Looks Amazing. 320. There’s Something About You. 321. How Did I Get So Lucky!? (To Have You In My Life) 322. Nobody Makes Me Happier Than You. 323. You Always Make Me Feel So Comfortable. 324. I Can See So Much Warmth In Your Eyes. 325. You Have Such Good Taste. 326. You have such good taste 327. You Are So Smart. 328. I Love Your Smile. 329. You Are My Everything. 330. You are my everything 331. I Could Listen To You For Hours. 332. You Look Prettier Than A Picture. 333. I Think You Are Perfect Just The Way You Are. 334. I think you are perfect just the way you are 335. You Take My Breath Away. 336. Aren’t You The Sweetest!? 337. You Light Up Any Room That You Walk Into. 338. You light up any room that you walk into 339. How Do You Look So Beautiful All The Time? 340. You Make Me Feel So Lucky When I’m Around You. 341. You Always Know How To Surprise Me. 342. You always know how to surprise me 343. You’re The Reason My Life Feels So Perfect. 344. Spending Time With You Is The Highlight Of My Day. 345. You Are Such A Good Dancer. 346. You are such a good dancer 347. You Understand Me So Well, It’s Like You Can Read My Mind. 348. I Wish I Could Have Met You Years Ago. 349. I Haven’t Met A Person Who’s As Nice And Caring As You. 350. I havent met a person whos as nice and caring as you 351. Your Eyes Are So Expressive And Beautiful I Can’t Help But Get Lost In Them. 352. You Make Me Want To Be A Better Man Just So I Can Be More Worthy Of Your Love. 353. I Think God Was High When He Created You Because There’s No One Else Who Comes So Close To Perfection. 354. I Start My Day With You On My Mind And End My Day With You In My Dreams.
http://olpaisa.blogspot.com/2019/10/best-compliment-for-girl.html
0 notes
jonathanbelloblog · 6 years
Text
First Drive: 2019 Volvo XC40
BARCELONA, Spain — I came to the 2019 Volvo XC40 press preview expecting little more than a smaller version of Volvo’s other SUVs, and I bet most of you were anticipating the same. And who can blame us? All of the new-generation Volvos—XC90, XC60, S90, V90—are cut from the same cloth, and it’s not like we’re talking about cheap polyester.
What I found, though, was something very different. The XC40 has classic youngest-kid syndrome—you know, the one who tries to differentiate himself from his older siblings by getting tattoos and a nipple ring. Though the family resemblance is obvious, both in appearance and driving dynamics, the XC40 fights for its independence with a scrappy demeanor and a streak of rebellion—and that’s good news for potential buyers.
The XC40’s attitude is readily apparent in its dare-to-be-different styling. This is the most unique-looking SUV in Volvo’s refreshed lineup. While it shares its basic shape with other Volvo SUVs, it’s impossible to miss the kicked-up C-pillar (don’t tell Volvo, but it reminds me of the Jeep Compass’ shark fin), deeply sculpted lower door panels, and (optional) contrasting-color roof.
Still, don’t let the obvious details distract you from the more subtle ones like the concave grille, echoed at the back by a slight dishing of the XC40’s tailgate; the 90-degree seam formed by the front door, fender, and wrap-over hood; and the way four different body lines meet at the forward edge of the C-pillar. I’m tempted to say “It’s a Volvo, Jim, but not as we know it,” but I’m pretty sure the reference will be lost on the millennials at whom the XC40 is targeted. (Yes, kids, it’s true: Leonard Nimoy was on another TV show before Big Bang Theory.)
The XC40 is the first vehicle based on Volvo’s Compact Modular Architecture (CMA to its friends), as opposed to the Scalable Product Architecture (SPA) used for the 60- and 90-series vehicles. (One has to wonder: How scalable can an architecture be if Volvo needed a different one for their smaller cars?) Like the XC60, the XC40 uses MacPherson struts up front, but the four-link rear suspension employs coil springs instead of a transverse leaf.
Despite the architecture differences, the XC40 is just as good of a drive as the bigger Volvos, though it exhibits more spirit and attitude. The press preview featured XC40 R-Design models powered by the 248-hp T5 engine, which comes bundled with all-wheel-drive. This is the base powerplant for Volvo’s larger SUVs, but it’s the high-end motor for the XC40, which weighs some 200 lb less than the XC60 and 700 lb less than the XC90.
Removing the extra bulk does wonders. Whether you’re stopped at a light or need to jump into the passing lane, the T5-powered XC40 leaps ahead like an SUV possessed, and we’re inclined to believe Volvo’s 6.2-second claim for the 0-to-60 sprint. The eight-speed automatic transmission lives to downshift, and will happily do so with even the lightest prod of the pedal. This summer, Volvo will add the front-wheel-drive T4 powertrain, which shares the T5’s 2.0 liter displacement but uses a different turbo and tuning to deliver 185 hp (and, presumably, better fuel economy).
The XC40 R-Design features a sport-tuned suspension and the driving dynamics can best be described with the sort of boilerplate clichés that hacks like me use when we can’t come up with anything else: It turns in sharply, grips eagerly, and the body stays relatively flat in the turns. Steering effort is light, and its quick response and lack of feedback often results in direction changes that are rather more deliberate than the driver may have intended. My Automobile colleagues complained about this in the XC60; it seems more in line with the XC40’s scrappy character, though a little more road feel would be welcome. Still, it made me grin, and really, that’s all that counts. The XC40 has five selectable drive modes (Eco, Comfort, Dynamic, Off-Road and Individual) that are supposed to alter throttle, steering and braking response, but based on my experience there’s no point in pressing the button until the adjustable-damper option arrives later in 2018.
Inside, the XC40 gives up some of the elegance of the 60- and 90-series cars for a more “shabby chic” feel. Its upright cabin feels rather narrow, though the XC40 is actually one of the wider vehicles in the segment. Back seat legroom is good, but the seats themselves lack thigh support, which is both surprising and disappointing. The 20.7 cubic foot luggage bay seems to have been designed for people with a cargo-carrying fetish, what with its hidden storage, 60/40 split-fold back seat, and ski pass-through. You can even store the swing-up cargo cover under the cargo floor. What will they think of next?
In-cabin scored high in Volvo’s customer research clinics, and the XC40’s cabin is awash in bins and cubbies optimized for phones, tissue boxes, and other detritus of the dedicated road warrior. Volvo moved the front speakers from the doors to the dash so that the front door pockets could accommodate a 15-inch laptop. There’s a nifty mini trash can (removable and sporting a spring-loaded lid) built into the center armrest, though it won’t hold much more than a couple of balled-up burger wrappers and a discarded gum wrapper or two. The optional wireless charging pad is massive, future-proofing it against Samsung and Apple’s fixation on ever-larger phones, though I had trouble getting my old Samsung Galaxy S6 properly centered on the pad so that it would charge.
Like other Volvo models, the XC40 comes standard with the Sensus infotainment system and its portrait-oriented touchscreen. I fell in love with the tablet-style UI when it first came out, but I must admit that familiarity has bred contempt: A few week-long Volvo press loans have taught me that the navigation system can be difficult to program, and swiping and pinching your way between climate, audio and navigation options can get rather frustrating. New for the XC40 is an app-based “digital key” that will allow for easy car sharing; send someone a code and they can unlock and drive the car without a key—a feature that strikes me as both nifty and scary.
The XC40 is offered with four interior color choices—black, white, red and tan—but only in the entry-level Momentum model. The R-Design version, home to the wonderful sport-tuned suspension, comes exclusively in black, though you can get it with orange carpets and door panels. The orange is certainly cool—Helllooooo, 1970! Anyone wanna watch Laugh-In?—but I still think Volvo interiors look their best in lighter colors. Too bad you can only get them in the Momentum trim.
Volvo has priced the XC40 Momentum and R-Design models at $34,195 and $36,695 respectively, including a $995 destination charge. Opting for the T5/all-wheel-drive combo adds $2,000 to either trim. Standard equipment levels are impressive: Momentum models include leather upholstery, a power tailgate, and Apple CarPlay/Android Auto compatibility, while the R-Design adds navigation, 19” wheels, a hands-free tailgate, and other upgrades. Naturally, safety is high on the XC40’s priority list, with automatic emergency braking and lane- and road-departure mitigation as standard and a 360-degree camera, adaptive cruise, and blind-spot and cross-traffic warning on the options list.
The XC40 will be the first offering from Care by Volvo, the brand’s fledgling subscription-based ownership program. Pre-configured Momentum and R-Design models will be offered for $600 and $700 per month respectively (plus tax and a $500 deposit), a price that includes the car, insurance, and a 15,000 mile per year allowance maintenance for 24 months. Insurance is provided by Liberty Mutual, which can’t change the price but can say “no” to potential customers. After a year, buyers can “upgrade” to a new XC40 for a new 24-month term—though unless Volvo plans a return to Detroit-style yearly model changes, there doesn’t seem to be much reason to swap. This is a potential bargain for buyers who live in high insurance rate areas like New York or Frisco; still, Volvo insists this program isn’t about a cheap deal, but rather an easier experience for young buyers eager to bypass traditional dealer bullshit. You go online, you order your car, you make an appointment to pick it up, and that’s that—no more getting hassled by the F&I guy to buy an extended warranty or listening to the service writer extol the virtues of a $159 transmission flush.
It’s no secret that Automobile is a big fan of Volvo’s latest vehicles, and I think the XC40’s mission to bring younger buyers into the brand will be a successful one. The cheeky XC40 makes the Audi Q3, BMW X1 and Mercedes GLA look like old fuddy-duddies, and the driving experience gives the Mini Countryman a run for its money. Add in the reasonable price, high equipment level, and available hassle-free subscription plan, and the XC40 appears to be right on point. Like any little sibling, the XC40 is obviously clamoring for attention—and I think it’s going to get plenty.
2019 Volvo XC40 Specifications
ON SALE Spring 2018 PRICE $34,195 (base) ENGINE 2.0L turbocharged DOHC 16-valve I-4/184-248 hp @ 5,500 rpm, 258 lb-ft @ 1,800-4,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed   automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, FWD/AWD SUV EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 174.2 x 73.3 x 65.0 in WHEELBASE 106.4 in WEIGHT 3,710-3,820 lb 0-60 MPH 6.2 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph
0 notes
eddiejpoplar · 6 years
Text
First Drive: 2019 Volvo XC40
BARCELONA, Spain — I came to the 2019 Volvo XC40 press preview expecting little more than a smaller version of Volvo’s other SUVs, and I bet most of you were anticipating the same. And who can blame us? All of the new-generation Volvos—XC90, XC60, S90, V90—are cut from the same cloth, and it’s not like we’re talking about cheap polyester.
What I found, though, was something very different. The XC40 has classic youngest-kid syndrome—you know, the one who tries to differentiate himself from his older siblings by getting tattoos and a nipple ring. Though the family resemblance is obvious, both in appearance and driving dynamics, the XC40 fights for its independence with a scrappy demeanor and a streak of rebellion—and that’s good news for potential buyers.
The XC40’s attitude is readily apparent in its dare-to-be-different styling. This is the most unique-looking SUV in Volvo’s refreshed lineup. While it shares its basic shape with other Volvo SUVs, it’s impossible to miss the kicked-up C-pillar (don’t tell Volvo, but it reminds me of the Jeep Compass’ shark fin), deeply sculpted lower door panels, and (optional) contrasting-color roof.
Still, don’t let the obvious details distract you from the more subtle ones like the concave grille, echoed at the back by a slight dishing of the XC40’s tailgate; the 90-degree seam formed by the front door, fender, and wrap-over hood; and the way four different body lines meet at the forward edge of the C-pillar. I’m tempted to say “It’s a Volvo, Jim, but not as we know it,” but I’m pretty sure the reference will be lost on the millennials at whom the XC40 is targeted. (Yes, kids, it’s true: Leonard Nimoy was on another TV show before Big Bang Theory.)
The XC40 is the first vehicle based on Volvo’s Compact Modular Architecture (CMA to its friends), as opposed to the Scalable Product Architecture (SPA) used for the 60- and 90-series vehicles. (One has to wonder: How scalable can an architecture be if Volvo needed a different one for their smaller cars?) Like the XC60, the XC40 uses MacPherson struts up front, but the four-link rear suspension employs coil springs instead of a transverse leaf.
Despite the architecture differences, the XC40 is just as good of a drive as the bigger Volvos, though it exhibits more spirit and attitude. The press preview featured XC40 R-Design models powered by the 248-hp T5 engine, which comes bundled with all-wheel-drive. This is the base powerplant for Volvo’s larger SUVs, but it’s the high-end motor for the XC40, which weighs some 200 lb less than the XC60 and 700 lb less than the XC90.
Removing the extra bulk does wonders. Whether you’re stopped at a light or need to jump into the passing lane, the T5-powered XC40 leaps ahead like an SUV possessed, and we’re inclined to believe Volvo’s 6.2-second claim for the 0-to-60 sprint. The eight-speed automatic transmission lives to downshift, and will happily do so with even the lightest prod of the pedal. This summer, Volvo will add the front-wheel-drive T4 powertrain, which shares the T5’s 2.0 liter displacement but uses a different turbo and tuning to deliver 185 hp (and, presumably, better fuel economy).
The XC40 R-Design features a sport-tuned suspension and the driving dynamics can best be described with the sort of boilerplate clichés that hacks like me use when we can’t come up with anything else: It turns in sharply, grips eagerly, and the body stays relatively flat in the turns. Steering effort is light, and its quick response and lack of feedback often results in direction changes that are rather more deliberate than the driver may have intended. My Automobile colleagues complained about this in the XC60; it seems more in line with the XC40’s scrappy character, though a little more road feel would be welcome. Still, it made me grin, and really, that’s all that counts. The XC40 has five selectable drive modes (Eco, Comfort, Dynamic, Off-Road and Individual) that are supposed to alter throttle, steering and braking response, but based on my experience there’s no point in pressing the button until the adjustable-damper option arrives later in 2018.
Inside, the XC40 gives up some of the elegance of the 60- and 90-series cars for a more “shabby chic” feel. Its upright cabin feels rather narrow, though the XC40 is actually one of the wider vehicles in the segment. Back seat legroom is good, but the seats themselves lack thigh support, which is both surprising and disappointing. The 20.7 cubic foot luggage bay seems to have been designed for people with a cargo-carrying fetish, what with its hidden storage, 60/40 split-fold back seat, and ski pass-through. You can even store the swing-up cargo cover under the cargo floor. What will they think of next?
In-cabin scored high in Volvo’s customer research clinics, and the XC40’s cabin is awash in bins and cubbies optimized for phones, tissue boxes, and other detritus of the dedicated road warrior. Volvo moved the front speakers from the doors to the dash so that the front door pockets could accommodate a 15-inch laptop. There’s a nifty mini trash can (removable and sporting a spring-loaded lid) built into the center armrest, though it won’t hold much more than a couple of balled-up burger wrappers and a discarded gum wrapper or two. The optional wireless charging pad is massive, future-proofing it against Samsung and Apple’s fixation on ever-larger phones, though I had trouble getting my old Samsung Galaxy S6 properly centered on the pad so that it would charge.
Like other Volvo models, the XC40 comes standard with the Sensus infotainment system and its portrait-oriented touchscreen. I fell in love with the tablet-style UI when it first came out, but I must admit that familiarity has bred contempt: A few week-long Volvo press loans have taught me that the navigation system can be difficult to program, and swiping and pinching your way between climate, audio and navigation options can get rather frustrating. New for the XC40 is an app-based “digital key” that will allow for easy car sharing; send someone a code and they can unlock and drive the car without a key—a feature that strikes me as both nifty and scary.
The XC40 is offered with four interior color choices—black, white, red and tan—but only in the entry-level Momentum model. The R-Design version, home to the wonderful sport-tuned suspension, comes exclusively in black, though you can get it with orange carpets and door panels. The orange is certainly cool—Helllooooo, 1970! Anyone wanna watch Laugh-In?—but I still think Volvo interiors look their best in lighter colors. Too bad you can only get them in the Momentum trim.
Volvo has priced the XC40 Momentum and R-Design models at $34,195 and $36,695 respectively, including a $995 destination charge. Opting for the T5/all-wheel-drive combo adds $2,000 to either trim. Standard equipment levels are impressive: Momentum models include leather upholstery, a power tailgate, and Apple CarPlay/Android Auto compatibility, while the R-Design adds navigation, 19” wheels, a hands-free tailgate, and other upgrades. Naturally, safety is high on the XC40’s priority list, with automatic emergency braking and lane- and road-departure mitigation as standard and a 360-degree camera, adaptive cruise, and blind-spot and cross-traffic warning on the options list.
The XC40 will be the first offering from Care by Volvo, the brand’s fledgling subscription-based ownership program. Pre-configured Momentum and R-Design models will be offered for $600 and $700 per month respectively (plus tax and a $500 deposit), a price that includes the car, insurance, and a 15,000 mile per year allowance maintenance for 24 months. Insurance is provided by Liberty Mutual, which can’t change the price but can say “no” to potential customers. After a year, buyers can “upgrade” to a new XC40 for a new 24-month term—though unless Volvo plans a return to Detroit-style yearly model changes, there doesn’t seem to be much reason to swap. This is a potential bargain for buyers who live in high insurance rate areas like New York or Frisco; still, Volvo insists this program isn’t about a cheap deal, but rather an easier experience for young buyers eager to bypass traditional dealer bullshit. You go online, you order your car, you make an appointment to pick it up, and that’s that—no more getting hassled by the F&I guy to buy an extended warranty or listening to the service writer extol the virtues of a $159 transmission flush.
It’s no secret that Automobile is a big fan of Volvo’s latest vehicles, and I think the XC40’s mission to bring younger buyers into the brand will be a successful one. The cheeky XC40 makes the Audi Q3, BMW X1 and Mercedes GLA look like old fuddy-duddies, and the driving experience gives the Mini Countryman a run for its money. Add in the reasonable price, high equipment level, and available hassle-free subscription plan, and the XC40 appears to be right on point. Like any little sibling, the XC40 is obviously clamoring for attention—and I think it’s going to get plenty.
2019 Volvo XC40 Specifications
ON SALE Spring 2018 PRICE $34,195 (base) ENGINE 2.0L turbocharged DOHC 16-valve I-4/184-248 hp @ 5,500 rpm, 258 lb-ft @ 1,800-4,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed   automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, FWD/AWD SUV EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 174.2 x 73.3 x 65.0 in WHEELBASE 106.4 in WEIGHT 3,710-3,820 lb 0-60 MPH 6.2 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph
0 notes
jesusvasser · 6 years
Text
First Drive: 2019 Volvo XC40
BARCELONA, Spain — I came to the 2019 Volvo XC40 press preview expecting little more than a smaller version of Volvo’s other SUVs, and I bet most of you were anticipating the same. And who can blame us? All of the new-generation Volvos—XC90, XC60, S90, V90—are cut from the same cloth, and it’s not like we’re talking about cheap polyester.
What I found, though, was something very different. The XC40 has classic youngest-kid syndrome—you know, the one who tries to differentiate himself from his older siblings by getting tattoos and a nipple ring. Though the family resemblance is obvious, both in appearance and driving dynamics, the XC40 fights for its independence with a scrappy demeanor and a streak of rebellion—and that’s good news for potential buyers.
The XC40’s attitude is readily apparent in its dare-to-be-different styling. This is the most unique-looking SUV in Volvo’s refreshed lineup. While it shares its basic shape with other Volvo SUVs, it’s impossible to miss the kicked-up C-pillar (don’t tell Volvo, but it reminds me of the Jeep Compass’ shark fin), deeply sculpted lower door panels, and (optional) contrasting-color roof.
Still, don’t let the obvious details distract you from the more subtle ones like the concave grille, echoed at the back by a slight dishing of the XC40’s tailgate; the 90-degree seam formed by the front door, fender, and wrap-over hood; and the way four different body lines meet at the forward edge of the C-pillar. I’m tempted to say “It’s a Volvo, Jim, but not as we know it,” but I’m pretty sure the reference will be lost on the millennials at whom the XC40 is targeted. (Yes, kids, it’s true: Leonard Nimoy was on another TV show before Big Bang Theory.)
The XC40 is the first vehicle based on Volvo’s Compact Modular Architecture (CMA to its friends), as opposed to the Scalable Product Architecture (SPA) used for the 60- and 90-series vehicles. (One has to wonder: How scalable can an architecture be if Volvo needed a different one for their smaller cars?) Like the XC60, the XC40 uses MacPherson struts up front, but the four-link rear suspension employs coil springs instead of a transverse leaf.
Despite the architecture differences, the XC40 is just as good of a drive as the bigger Volvos, though it exhibits more spirit and attitude. The press preview featured XC40 R-Design models powered by the 248-hp T5 engine, which comes bundled with all-wheel-drive. This is the base powerplant for Volvo’s larger SUVs, but it’s the high-end motor for the XC40, which weighs some 200 lb less than the XC60 and 700 lb less than the XC90.
Removing the extra bulk does wonders. Whether you’re stopped at a light or need to jump into the passing lane, the T5-powered XC40 leaps ahead like an SUV possessed, and we’re inclined to believe Volvo’s 6.2-second claim for the 0-to-60 sprint. The eight-speed automatic transmission lives to downshift, and will happily do so with even the lightest prod of the pedal. This summer, Volvo will add the front-wheel-drive T4 powertrain, which shares the T5’s 2.0 liter displacement but uses a different turbo and tuning to deliver 185 hp (and, presumably, better fuel economy).
The XC40 R-Design features a sport-tuned suspension and the driving dynamics can best be described with the sort of boilerplate clichés that hacks like me use when we can’t come up with anything else: It turns in sharply, grips eagerly, and the body stays relatively flat in the turns. Steering effort is light, and its quick response and lack of feedback often results in direction changes that are rather more deliberate than the driver may have intended. My Automobile colleagues complained about this in the XC60; it seems more in line with the XC40’s scrappy character, though a little more road feel would be welcome. Still, it made me grin, and really, that’s all that counts. The XC40 has five selectable drive modes (Eco, Comfort, Dynamic, Off-Road and Individual) that are supposed to alter throttle, steering and braking response, but based on my experience there’s no point in pressing the button until the adjustable-damper option arrives later in 2018.
Inside, the XC40 gives up some of the elegance of the 60- and 90-series cars for a more “shabby chic” feel. Its upright cabin feels rather narrow, though the XC40 is actually one of the wider vehicles in the segment. Back seat legroom is good, but the seats themselves lack thigh support, which is both surprising and disappointing. The 20.7 cubic foot luggage bay seems to have been designed for people with a cargo-carrying fetish, what with its hidden storage, 60/40 split-fold back seat, and ski pass-through. You can even store the swing-up cargo cover under the cargo floor. What will they think of next?
In-cabin scored high in Volvo’s customer research clinics, and the XC40’s cabin is awash in bins and cubbies optimized for phones, tissue boxes, and other detritus of the dedicated road warrior. Volvo moved the front speakers from the doors to the dash so that the front door pockets could accommodate a 15-inch laptop. There’s a nifty mini trash can (removable and sporting a spring-loaded lid) built into the center armrest, though it won’t hold much more than a couple of balled-up burger wrappers and a discarded gum wrapper or two. The optional wireless charging pad is massive, future-proofing it against Samsung and Apple’s fixation on ever-larger phones, though I had trouble getting my old Samsung Galaxy S6 properly centered on the pad so that it would charge.
Like other Volvo models, the XC40 comes standard with the Sensus infotainment system and its portrait-oriented touchscreen. I fell in love with the tablet-style UI when it first came out, but I must admit that familiarity has bred contempt: A few week-long Volvo press loans have taught me that the navigation system can be difficult to program, and swiping and pinching your way between climate, audio and navigation options can get rather frustrating. New for the XC40 is an app-based “digital key” that will allow for easy car sharing; send someone a code and they can unlock and drive the car without a key—a feature that strikes me as both nifty and scary.
The XC40 is offered with four interior color choices—black, white, red and tan—but only in the entry-level Momentum model. The R-Design version, home to the wonderful sport-tuned suspension, comes exclusively in black, though you can get it with orange carpets and door panels. The orange is certainly cool—Helllooooo, 1970! Anyone wanna watch Laugh-In?—but I still think Volvo interiors look their best in lighter colors. Too bad you can only get them in the Momentum trim.
Volvo has priced the XC40 Momentum and R-Design models at $34,195 and $36,695 respectively, including a $995 destination charge. Opting for the T5/all-wheel-drive combo adds $2,000 to either trim. Standard equipment levels are impressive: Momentum models include leather upholstery, a power tailgate, and Apple CarPlay/Android Auto compatibility, while the R-Design adds navigation, 19” wheels, a hands-free tailgate, and other upgrades. Naturally, safety is high on the XC40’s priority list, with automatic emergency braking and lane- and road-departure mitigation as standard and a 360-degree camera, adaptive cruise, and blind-spot and cross-traffic warning on the options list.
The XC40 will be the first offering from Care by Volvo, the brand’s fledgling subscription-based ownership program. Pre-configured Momentum and R-Design models will be offered for $600 and $700 per month respectively (plus tax and a $500 deposit), a price that includes the car, insurance, and a 15,000 mile per year allowance maintenance for 24 months. Insurance is provided by Liberty Mutual, which can’t change the price but can say “no” to potential customers. After a year, buyers can “upgrade” to a new XC40 for a new 24-month term—though unless Volvo plans a return to Detroit-style yearly model changes, there doesn’t seem to be much reason to swap. This is a potential bargain for buyers who live in high insurance rate areas like New York or Frisco; still, Volvo insists this program isn’t about a cheap deal, but rather an easier experience for young buyers eager to bypass traditional dealer bullshit. You go online, you order your car, you make an appointment to pick it up, and that’s that—no more getting hassled by the F&I guy to buy an extended warranty or listening to the service writer extol the virtues of a $159 transmission flush.
It’s no secret that Automobile is a big fan of Volvo’s latest vehicles, and I think the XC40’s mission to bring younger buyers into the brand will be a successful one. The cheeky XC40 makes the Audi Q3, BMW X1 and Mercedes GLA look like old fuddy-duddies, and the driving experience gives the Mini Countryman a run for its money. Add in the reasonable price, high equipment level, and available hassle-free subscription plan, and the XC40 appears to be right on point. Like any little sibling, the XC40 is obviously clamoring for attention—and I think it’s going to get plenty.
2019 Volvo XC40 Specifications
ON SALE Spring 2018 PRICE $34,195 (base) ENGINE 2.0L turbocharged DOHC 16-valve I-4/184-248 hp @ 5,500 rpm, 258 lb-ft @ 1,800-4,800 rpm TRANSMISSION 8-speed   automatic LAYOUT 4-door, 5-passenger, front-engine, FWD/AWD SUV EPA MILEAGE N/A L x W x H 174.2 x 73.3 x 65.0 in WHEELBASE 106.4 in WEIGHT 3,710-3,820 lb 0-60 MPH 6.2 sec TOP SPEED 140 mph
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