#finall some clue crew rep here

[mythicalsecretsanta]

12 Days of Christmas... Almost (E)

This gift is for: Cal (AKA @mythicalamity) Surprise! Keeping this secret from you for the last month wasn’t easy! Thank you for being the kindest, most loving friend I’ve ever had in this fandom and for being a pretty spectacular person in the real world as well. Merry Christmas, Cal! From your Secret Santa, @fanbabble​

Link to AO3, or read below:

The Holiday season was in full swing at Mythical, as much as it could be at least. The virus had put quite a damper on festive activities across the world and Myth Ent was no exception. There were lights strung up and a Christmas tree, but there would be no company Christmas party this year, no cookie exchange, no getting together at each other’s homes for dinner parties or gift swaps. The mood in the office was a little low and Link found himself looking for ways to encourage positivity and the good feelings of the season. That’s why when Stevie suggested a secret santa gift exchange, Link took the idea and ran with it. Employees would play secret santa leaving their secret giftee presents for the 12 days leading up to Christmas. Not only would this game bring a bit of fun into the office, but it could also be done safely as social distancing was a literal part of the rules. You couldn’t reveal your identity to your giftee until the final day of the exchange. It was perfect!

Rhett was less than excited about the prospect. He complained to Link about not wanting to participate. He was nervous he wouldn’t know what to get the person he chose or how to keep the secret. Rhett’s enneagram three-ness was getting in the way of him enjoying himself again. He was worrying too much about impressing the person he got, rather than letting himself relax and have fun with the idea. Link finally convinced his friend to participate. 

“How would it look if one of the owners of the company didn’t play along?”

“Fine. But if my gifts turn out to be duds and ruin someone’s Christmas it’s your fault!” Rhett said as he stood to join Link and walk down the hall to the Mythical kitchen for the name exchange.

Chase mixed the names of everyone in a Santa hat. The in-office folks would be in one drawing and the staff who were working virtually would draw amongst themselves. In all there were about 15 names in the hat that Chase held shut in his grasp. The group took turns reaching their hands in to pick a slip of paper with their giftees name written on it. The PAs went first, followed by the camera men, then the directors, followed by Chase, Stevie, and finally Rhett and Link. 

Rhett stuck his hand into the Santa hat. His gaze was trained on the little opening. 

“No peekin’!!” Link smacked his arm and scolded him. 

“I’m not! Besides There’s literally only one name left in the hat, Link.” 

The kitchen filled with the crew’s laughter. 

“Can’t exactly pick and choose who I want, man.”

Rhett glanced at his friend and then looked at the little slip of paper. The apples of his cheeks became more obvious as a small smile spread across his face. He grasped the paper close to his chest and then tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. 

Everyone in the kitchen celebrated the exchange with a cupcake whipped up by the Mythical Kitchen and then retreated back to their personal space to finish up the day’s work. 

Before the office door was even fully shut Link was in Rhett’s space. 

“Who’d ya get?”

“What?! I’m not telling you. It’s not fair.” Rhett sat down in his office chair and opened his laptop.

“Come on, Bo. Tell me. I got…”

“STOP” Rhett put his hands up to his ears as if to block out what Link was about to reveal. “I don’t wanna hear it. Let’s do this right. Keep it a secret.” 

“Since when do you care about keeping this kinda stuff secret? You usually can’t wait to tell me everything and anything,” Link was teetering on the fine edge between annoyed and amused.  

“Well this year is different. If this is one of the only ways the company gets to celebrate then I wanna do it right.”

“Fine,” Link huffed. He flopped down on the leather couch and draped his arm over his eyes. “You don’t want to tell me, that’s your business, but don’t come begging for gift ideas when you come up dry.” And with that healthy dose of snark the smaller man settled in for an afternoon nap. 

The next day Link walked into their office and threw his jacket over the back of the gray chair that sat by the door. He put his backpack on the floor by his desk and was just about to head to the office kitchen for a cup of coffee when he noticed a box sitting by his desk lamp. He picked it up and examined it. 

“Dang, my santa must get here early.”

It was only 7 AM and Link had just arrived to an empty building. The box was wrapped in shiny green paper and tied with an elegant red bow. He turned it over in his hands looking for some kind of tag or label. When he found nothing, Link slipped the ribbon from the package and pulled off the lid. Inside was a perfect golden pear tucked into a pillow of soft fabric. Link wasn’t sure what to do with the gift so he sniffed it to confirm it was a real piece of fruit. He lifted the pear out of the box and saw that a small note was hidden underneath. He held the pear in one hand and opened the slip of paper with the other. 

“On the first day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me,

A partridge in a pear tree”

-You may be a “sweet peach” but I think we’d make a great “pear”  Love, Your secret admirer

Link read over the note three times before he could totally comprehend what it said. He turned it over to look for any kind of identifying mark or signature. There was nothing to be found. He blushed hard and tucked the note into his pocket. It had been a long time since he had had anyone in his life, much less a Love, but he knew no one at Mythical felt that way about him and even if they did it would be totally unethical to pursue anything. Link was sure it was just some kind of joke by one of the writers and tucked the green box into his backpack before heading off to get his coffee.

When Rhett came in half an hour later, he was all nervous energy and talking 90 miles a minute. He said it was because he had almost gotten into a car accident on the way in. He had found his Secret Santa gift sitting on the back of the toilet in the bathroom and showed it to Link. 

“It’s gotta be Jordan, man,” Rhett said as he held out the bag for Link to inspect, “Who else would give me a bag of cotton candy?” 

Link peeked inside the gift bag and said, “Seems kinda obvious, but it’s possible.” He couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander back to the little green box he had received and the love note that it contained. 

“Earth to Link,” Rhett took the bag back and set it on his desk. “You alright man?”

Link shook his head to clear his mind and refocus on the man before him. “Oh yeah, sorry. Must need more coffee.” He held up his empty mug and headed toward the office door. 

As he reached for the doorknob, Rhett asked quietly, “Did you get your first gift yet?”

Link paused and laughed without looking back, “Yeah, pair of socks. Womp womp,” then he headed out the door.

Over the course of the next few days, Link continued to receive themed gifts from his Secret Santa that left him giddy and baffled at the same time. The first two were silly, Turtle and Dove chocolates for Day 2 and three fried chicken legs for Day 3. They were both accompanied by notes that talked about how much the gifter liked Link and they were both signed “Love, Your secret admirer.” Link still wasn’t sure what to make of the declarations, but he played along and let himself feel special for the moment. Even if he was still convinced it was all a joke. Until Day 4 that is. 

On Day 4 Link walked into the office late to find a small book tied up with a ribbon. “Native birds of the National Parks” The gift was incredibly thoughtful and one that he would definitely use on future adventures. A folded piece of paper was tucked inside the chapter about Denali National Park. It read,

“On the fourth day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me,

Four calling birds”

- Bird calls are beautiful, but the idea of calling you mine is even better.  Love, Your secret admirer

Link opened the book again to the page about the birds of Denali. There was only one person he had ever told about wanting to visit the park covered in glaciers and snow. Rhett. Could his secret admirer be Rhett? Link’s head swam with the possibility. 

He had been in love with his best friend for most of his life, but he had kept it hidden away out of fear of losing the one person in the world who was most important to him. Surely, Rhett was not the person who was his Secret Santa. Link felt a burst of warmth spread across his chest as he let himself entertain the idea for a moment. What would it be like to finally feel those arms around his body? To finally kiss Rhett’s lips? To own his heart as well as his friendship?

As he stood there lost in his own thoughts, the man in question came barreling into the office. Link stuffed the book into his desk drawer and turned quickly to face his friend. 

“Hey, Rhett, how’s it going?” 

Link did his best to maintain his cool. He watched his friend as he moved about the office getting settled for the day. He assessed his behavior for any clues or signs that he might be the “Secret Santa Secret Admirer.” 

“Pretty good. I added some new reps to my workout and now my abs are killing me.” Rhett rubbed his hand across his stomach. His t-shirt pulled taught and drew Link’s eye to the spot. Link felt his breath catch from the promise of what was underneath. His eyes roamed over the broad chest and thick arms. The way the shirt sleeves hugged Rhett’s biceps was criminal. Link knew he would have to control his thirst better if he hoped to get any hints about what role Rhett actually played in all of this. He cleared his throat and got a hold of himself. 

“What time did you get here this morning?” Link asked as casually as he could. He fiddled with the monitor on his computer to appear slightly uninterested in Rhett’s response. 

“What? Just now. You saw me walk in.”

“I thought maybe you came in and left again.”

Rhett turned and opened his laptop. He busied himself with things on his desk while it booted up. 

“Nope. Just rolled in.”

“Oh cool,” Link paused before adding, “How’s your secret santa going?” 

Rhett reached for a pen and knocked his coffee mug off balance spilling yesterday’s brown stuff over his desk and onto his lap.

“Shit!”

Link jumped up and grabbed the roll of paper towels he kept by his desk. He pulled off a handful and held them out to Rhett. 

“Can you clean this up for me, Buddyroll? I have to go over to wardrobe and find some different pants to wear or I’ll smell like an old coffee pot all day.” Rhett grabbed the towels and dabbed at the wet spot that stretched across his thighs. 

“Yeah, go ahead. I got this.” Link began to mop up the spilled coffee as Rhett headed out the door. His interrogation would have to wait for another day.

Days 5 and 6 were once again oddly funny gifts. If Rhett was the secret admirer it would make sense because he was the funniest person Link knew. A lifetime of laughter with Rhett had been the tradeoff for hiding the fact that he loved the man immensely. The idea that his love might be returned was more than Link had ever let himself hope for. 

The notes included with the gifts were just as tender as the previous ones. Day 5’s onion rings were accompanied by a slip that described Link as “more valuable than a golden ring” and day 6’s half dozen eggs had a note that read “You are a good egg, who makes my heart happy.”

Link enjoyed the sentiment, but nothing struck him as particularly suspicious. Day 7 was, however, a game changer.

That morning as Link walked past the dark studio a glimmer caught his eye. He set his backpack and Jade down and walked onto the GMM set where he found a string of origami paper birds strung together on a piece of gold silk ribbon. The swans were hanging across the back of the set from wall to wall. There must have been at least 50. Each bird’s wings was dipped in silver glitter and twinkled in the low light giving the set a magical air. Link stood back and took in the beauty. 

When he looked closer he saw each swan was made of sheet music. Link held one small bird in his fingers gently and examined it. He would recognize those chords anywhere. It was Merle. These paper swans were made with sheet music of Merle Haggard’s song, “Always Wanting You.”

“This has to be a gift,” Link whispered to himself. 

Link held his breath, afraid if he moved he would scare away the one idea he wanted to be true most in the world. That his secret santa was not only Rhett, but that the man was in love with him as well. 

A larger piece of paper flapped at the end of the string of birds. Link grabbed it and saw that his name was indeed on the front of the folded slip. He opened it and read:

“On the seventh day of Christmas

My true love gave to me

Seven swams a swimming”

- Like Merle said, “Always wanting you, but never having you makes it hard to face tomorrow.”   Love, Your Secret Admirer

Link couldn’t believe what he was reading. This had to be confirmation that Rhett was his secret admirer and secret santa. Jade sniffed at his shoes as if she were looking for the answer to a question he didn’t know. Link gently took the chain of birds down, gathered his things, and headed back to his office. 

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see the big man sitting at his desk already. He was speaking loudly on the phone about a new project they were working on. 

“No, damn it. I don’t want to cut that part! I purposely included it to help the flow of the story.” 

Rhett’s voice bounced off the brick walls. His tone was harsh. Link thought better of questioning him right now and tucked the birds into his backpack. He sat back on the couch and opened his laptop for the day. Jade snuggled into Link’s side and he petted her head mindlessly. His thoughts were only of Rhett. As he waited for his computer to boot up, Link watched Rhett. 

“It has to be him. Who else would use Merle?” Link thought to himself, “Oh you’re being an idiot. Everyone knows you love Merle Haggard, dummy. It could be anybody.” 

Link sunk down into the leather cushions and sulked. Not knowing for certain was exhausting. Only 5 more days to figure out this mystery. He glanced down at the paper swans one more time and smiled softly. 

Day 8 brought a bottle of chocolate milk and a note that read, “You’re the milk to my cookie” 

Link drank it in front of Rhett at lunch to see if he would get a reaction. Nothing. Well, with the exception of the way those green eyes sparkled when he belly laughed at a joke or the way Rhett put his hand on Link’s back as they left the office to head to record an episode of Ear Biscuits. Link noticed those things, but he couldn’t be sure if they were a reaction to the milk or to being close to Link in general. 

Link had caught Rhett in a lingering gaze more than once since the Seven Swans gift. And when they were alone together it felt like a spark was fizzing between the two of them. Something was going on, Link was sure of it. He just needed a little more proof before he could confront Rhett. His friendship was entirely too valuable to risk on an assumption.

On day 9, Link climbed into the driver’s seat of his car. He reached down to grab his sunglasses and was surprised to find something extra resting on the console. It was an old school cassette tape. Just like the kind he and Rhett used to exchange in high school. They would spend hours making the tapes and then driving down the back roads listening to their creations and singing at the top of their lungs. If he was honest, those times were when he first fell in love with Rhett. 

Link flipped the cassette over in his palm. On the outside of the case where the album art would usually be, was his name. Link immediately recognized it as Rhett’s handwriting. He opened the case and found a piece of paper folded in fourths tucked inside. It read:

“On the ninth day of Christmas

My true love gave to me

Nine ladies dancing.”

- I kept trying to find a funny pun for this day, but all I could focus on was singing these songs with you as we drove down the highway in North Carolina. I’ve tried to hold out to the end of the 12 days, but this secret is an old one and I don’t want to keep quiet anymore. If you feel the same, find me in the office at work and tell me. If not just toss this cassette in the trash and pretend it never happened.  Love, Your Secret Admirer 

Link was quiet for a moment and then, “Rhett! It’s Rhett! He loves me!” Link yelled at nobody in particular. Just saying the words out loud made him feel less like it was all a dream and more like it was real life. He threw his things into the passenger’s seat. In his flustered state he tried to check the time on his sunglasses and put his phone on his nose. He shifted into reverse and sped down the block. 

Link’s heart was pounding in his chest. He was breaking every speed limit on the way into Burbank, but he did not care. Let a cop try and stop him now, nothing could keep him from getting to Rhett. Link pulled into the parking lot in record time and he bolted out of his car and through the studio doors. He was running at full speed back to the office he shared with Rhett. His Rhett. Link took a deep breath and pushed the door open. 

The office was empty. Where was he? Link knew he didn’t pass him on the way through the building. He stood still for a moment and wrung his hands trying to think of what to do next. Just when he was starting to worry that Rhett had panicked and ran, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs of their loft. 

Link watched as Rhett appeared slowly, first feet, then legs, torso, and finally that glorious head of hair. 

“Link…” 

Rhett barely got the word out before the smaller man was launching himself across the office and into his arms. He melted into the embrace and pulled Link tighter against him. They took just a moment to look into each other’s eyes before their lips met. The kiss was strong and full of promise. Link opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and the passion kicked in. Rhett lifted Link up with his hands under the smaller man’s thighs and carried him to the couch. 

They pressed heated kisses into skin and hair. Marking their love on the other’s body wherever they could find purchase. Hands roamed pulling hair and grabbing biceps. And when Rhett laid Link down on their couch and pressed his body to the cradle of Link’s hips there was no denying that both men were hard with desire already. 

Link gasped with the sensation of being so close to Rhett. The feeling of his hard cock pressed against Rhett’s made his head swim and he pulled back to catch a breath. Rhett took the opportunity to say something he’d been holding in for decades.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” 

Each declaration was punctuated with a kiss. Link’s collar bones, his neck, his temple.

Link pulled Rhett close and whispered into his ear, “I’ve loved you my whole life.”

It was all the permission Rhett needed. He worshiped Link’s body and rocked against him until they were both finishing in their jeans like teenagers. Sticky and satisfied the pair laid together on the couch exchanging lazy kisses and gentle touches. Trying to make up for all the lost time they denied themselves. 

Link was half asleep and half in awe of the way Rhett looked. He laid silently and listened to Rhett as he said, “I can’t believe it worked. I thought for sure you’d throw the cassette away.” 

Link ran his fingers through Rhett’s curls gently. 

“You doubted me? Haven’t you figured it out yet, Bo? All you have to do is be the brave one and I’ll follow your lead.” He placed a kiss on Rhett’s tshirt right about his heart. “Thanks for being the brave one.” Rhett kissed the top of Link’s head and grunted in affirmation.

Link snuggled into Rhett’s chest and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to doze off the smaller man popped up and looked Rhett in the eye. 

“Don’t think just because you love me, you’re getting out of giving me gifts. I have three days left and I want my secret presents.” Link flashed his crooked grin and poked at Rhett’s side. 

Rhett let out a booming ho-ho-ho laugh before pulling Link back down against his chest.

“You can have anything you want, Link. Diamonds, rubies. I don’t need any presents though because I’ve already got the most valuable gift of the season… you.”

#mythical secret santa 2020 #type: fic #rating: E #gift swap #rhink #submission

[darlinrogue]

“ sometimes i realize one day i could die, i could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. there’d be no one to miss me and that terrifies me more than death itself. ” — kenny @ adam!

It’s All Down Hill From Here Ya’ll

Adam and Kenny || @ofgrief

Adam woke-up with the hangover of a lifetime. A whole ass construction crew wedged inside his cranium going to demolition town. Big, sweaty, muscly guys with jackhammers, wrecking balls, and heavy machinery. For some stupid reason he left the curtain open last night. Morning light spilled into the room and stabbed his eyeballs with serrated knives. Adam groaned and rolled over. He pressed his face into the pillow. His body ached, his head hurt, he was nauseous, and he kinda had to pee— shit, he hadn’t woken-up like this in a minute. Someone needed to shut-up their phone, the incessant chiming was getting on his last nerve. Then it hit him. That was his phone and his alarm going off at God’s forsaken hour of six-thirty. 

Adam slapped at the nightstand. He smacked the shit out of the alarm clock and knocked his car keys to the floor, no phone. Adam weathered the agony of lifting his head-up enough to look and hear the blasted thing beneath him. He slid halfway out of the bed and clawed at the floor beneath the headboard. Then, bingo, his hand closed around the phone and he pressed the power button to shut it up. With most of his upper body hanging off the mattress, Adam crumpled to the floor. His calves tangled with the blankets and he dragged the sheets clean off the bed with him. Flopped against the carpet, he massaged the bridge of his nose. There was a black hairband around his wrist and he had no clue where it came from. Adam yanked back his tangled, frizzy hair into a ponytail to get it out of his eyes. He laid there, blithe and numb, letting incoherent thoughts skim the surface of his consciousness. Bit-by-bit, Adam reconstructed the past twenty-four hours and it was enough to make him laugh. 

Damn, he was good.  

Eager to bask in a rare accomplishment, Adam turned his attention to his phone. He blinked and wiped the grit from his eyes as the screen flicked to life. He had one text message in his notifications. Kenny Omega, at a little past midnight texted him: [Wanna hang out?]

Adam let that time bomb tick as he unlocked his phone and checked Twitter instead. He searched Matt Hardy and perused the iconic’s Twitter feed. Another grin cracked Adam’s face down the middle. Hardy had no idea. That little task of self aggrandization done, Adam opened the messaging app. He stared at the screen and the little bubble of text from Kenny. Absent-minded, Adam reached down and yanked his belt off— only now realizing he never took it off. Then he answered Kenny’s question with a question.

[Got anything in mind?]

He paused, tongue running over his lips. Then, he untangled his legs from the sheets and blankets. Adam pushed to his feet and stumbled across the room to his bag on the desk. Inside he found Advil and a flask of whiskey. He washed the pain medicine down with a generous swig of alcohol. Adam coughed, beating on his chest to clear his dry throat. On the way to the bathroom he stripped out of his jeans. While brushing his teeth, his phone chimed. Adam spat into the sink and leaned over to read Kenny’s reply.

[My place. Dinner at six?] 

Okay, so that wasn’t ‘hanging-out.’ In Adam’s book, ‘hanging-out’ with Kenny was playing video games or going to an arcade. Maybe they’d work-out, train and drill in the ring, sit around the hotel room and watch movies. All the little things they did as a tag-team to kill time on the road or between matches. What Kenny proposed sounded like a —dare Adam say it— a date. Like two adults, sitting down over a candle-lit table, and talking about serious things for a couple of hours. Which, it was Kenny, so not a big deal, but at the same time, it was Kenny, which was a big deal. 

Since, November their relationship had been stuck in this weird, strange, gray, Twilight-Zone that was neither friendship or anything else. Cuddling in bed or on a couch, flirting, lingering too close, heady with physical desire, and softened by intimacy. Stablemates were always close, stuck on buses and planes for hours together enforced liking someone. Kenny and Adam had seen each other at the worst, at their best. This thing went beyond that. They were friends, tag-partners for a period, all they had left, and yet, nothing at all. Adam could ask Kenny: ‘What the fuck are we?’ If he thought he’d get a straight answer.

Unwilling to unpack all that, Adam dressed to work-out. He left his hotel room and started down the stairs to the lobby. He thought about dinner at six. Today’s original plan was to drive seven hours back to North Carolina, shooting straight-up I-95 along the coast. If Adam left after breakfast he’d be back in the afternoon. Staying another evening in Jacksonville wasn’t a big deal. Such were the benefits of a lonely bachelor life. A neighborhood girl usually took care of Adam’s dogs on Wednesdays. He could call her, offer a generous tip, and get another night. Around the sixth floor landing, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and gave Kenny his answer. 

[Sure, I’ll bring milk and beer. Give me your address.]

Down in the hotel gym he started his work-out, running through reps with almost memorized, mechanical ease. While Adam counted bicep curls, his phone chimed and he glanced at it long enough to see that Kenny had sent the address. Between sets, Adam popped the address into Google Maps. The house was a little over a half-hour drive away on Pointe Verde Beach, just outside of Jacksonville. Strange, because Adam had no memory of Kenny owning a house in or around Jacksonville. He heard whisper of a house near Orlando. He was vaguely aware that Kenny had stayed with Callis or Nakazawa a few times. Adam shuffled this mystery home off as another thing he just didn’t know about Kenny. He finished his work-out on the treadmill, running until endorphins blasted Kenny and the last of the hang-over from his brain. Adam returned to his hotel room to shower. 

While hot water rolled down his back and he scrubbed conditioner from his hair, Adam wondered after Kenny’s ulterior motives. Back in December Kenny made it clear what he wanted from Adam: sex. That wasn’t Adam’s own ego talking, that was straight out of the horse’s mouth. Kenny had said he wanted Adam to kiss him, touch him, and fuck him. That was what he said, almost verbatim. Adam was an adult. He spent a significant chunk of his twenties sexually active. He wasn’t shy or prudish, he had no hang-ups. He could do all the things Kenny wanted. Hell, he’d gladly do them, under the right circumstances. Provided Adam could negotiate the differences between male and female anatomy with any competence. Physical desire was absolutely a dimension of his attraction to Kenny. Except, he wasn’t sure if this was the right circumstances. The thought that Kenny was inviting Adam over to dinner for the sole purpose of propositioning him for sex, turned Adam’s stomach over. He cranked the water cold and sobered beneath the icy spray, jaw tight. He turned off the water and toweled off. Adam texted Kenny again. 

[Nak’s not going to be there, is he?]

Two seconds later, Kenny replied: 

[Nope, just us.]

And to keep some kinda banter, Adam texted him back, hoping that the words read as teasing.

[No Callis, either?]

[lmao no he’s in Tennessee doing Impact crap for the PPV. He left this morning.]

And Adam hadn’t felt this nervous about being alone with Kenny since the first time they played Mario Tennis with Chase Owens. Because shit, he’d been stringing Kenny along for months now. Sure, Callis had been a consistent cock block, but Adam wouldn’t pretend he and Kenny weren’t playing some kinda game. A no-rules, Calvinball-Esque, game with moving goalposts. There were no boundaries because Kenny and Adam never set any. That would imply proper and honest communication. All of it was impromptu and they were living on a prayer that neither of them stepped on any toes. In a way, Daily’s place was a blessing. The presence of others acted as a natural check-and-balance on Kenny and Adam’s weird dynamic. So long as they didn't talk about it, didn't acknowledge the elephant in the room, everything was fine. An evening alone felt like cutting the breaks. It wasn’t that Adam feared having sex with Kenny or Kenny outright trying to jump his bones. It wasn’t that he didn’t want that, or that he hadn’t thought about it. 

It was just that he wanted more.

Call him a sap, but Adam loved Kenny and he wanted Kenny to love him too. He wanted to go on dates. He wanted to wake-up in the same bed in the morning and to kiss Kenny awake. He wanted the small pleasure of fixing breakfast for both of them. Even to do the dishes together and all the boring domestic tasks of day-to-day life. To talk about how their days went but also to exist in quiet intimacy. He wanted to walk down the street holding Kenny’s hand. To drop casually in conversations, “My boyfriend Kenny—” To argue, make-up, and do better next time, all of it. And they were so off the rails because Adam was afraid that saying ‘no’ to Kenny in any capacity would kill what little they had. The what-ifs piled in Adam’s brain. Kenny using him for sex and then never talking to him again. Kenny telling him off for introducing more emotion that was necessary to a physical relationship. Kenny letting Adam know that he had finally moved on from his hot cowboy tag-partner and he won’t be needed anymore. The moment Kenny figured-out that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted from Adam— was the moment Adam lost him. 

Adam ate breakfast at the hotel hot bar. He had yogurt, an orange, eggs, and some links of sausage. He arranged for an extra night at the hotel and texted the girl who took care of his dogs. Then he got hustled by said teenager for almost twice the usual rate because she had, ‘lots of homework.’ Adam couldn’t complain because he was honestly kinda proud. She’d make a great carny one day. With not much else to do in Jacksonville, he left the hotel to go shopping. Adam had only packed for one night and not for a maybe-date with Kenny. He bought a white button down at a clothing store. Then, stopped by an uptown grocery store to buy 2% milk and local IPAs. Adam spent about three minutes lingering by a display of pre-arranged bouquets at the store, wondering if flowers would be too much. He walked away from the display, walked back, almost walked away again, stopped, and then stared a little longer. His hand fluttered by his side and before he could stop himself, Adam grabbed a bouquet of yellow flowers. Shit, he was an idiot. 

He thought, as the cashier rang him up, that Kenny was going to laugh at him. 

He took a lunch break at a small Mexican hole-in-the-wall because his diet was shot to hell today and he’d just have to admit it. Back at the hotel, he did his second work-out, showered again, and then realized he had three whole hours to kill. Three hours to get dressed, fuss over his hair, sit around, stare at the dumb flowers he bought, and consider if waterboarding would be a more or less effective form of torture. He scrolled Twitter, did some Duolingo. His body was tense, a live wire, his heart pounding. Adam left thirty minutes early and so took a twenty-minute detour, just to kill time. All so he wouldn’t look like a complete, desperate dweeb— showing-up early and with flowers? That would be way too much. 

The house was situated in an upscale, rich and retired, suburb nestled by the ocean. It was smaller, blander than the two, three story beach homes that towered around it, with their sparse lawns and obnoxious, pastel colors. It was a one-story, Spanish-style home with a brown roof and off-white siding. Palm trees and shaped topiary decorated the well-tended front yard. The sun back dropped the city to the West, burning gold. The angles of light painted the thin, sparse clouds pink, purple, and orange creamsicle. Adam parked in the driveway in front of the garage. He stepped out of his car and the wind, tasting of salt, pulled at his hair. Between the neighbor’s fence and the sand dunes, he caught sight of the Atlantic. The waves rolled and churned, edged by white foam-like lace. Adam walked around to the other side of the car. On the floorboards were the milk and beer, and on the passenger seat were the flowers. His hands trembled and his heart thudded against his chest like a hammer. Do or die, he had to commit now— fuck it, life was short and that bouquet was like twenty bucks. He tucked the beers under his arm, picked-up the milk in one hand, and the flowers in the other, 

Adam walked up to the front porch and used his elbow to ring the bell. Before Adam even retracted his hand, the door opened. Kenny stood on the other side of the threshold. His hair was yanked back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. Flour dusted his pink t-shirt across the chest. Adam’s eyes drifted down to khaki shorts and the loafers he wore without any socks. For a brief second, Kenny stared at Adam, also giving him a once-over. Adam hesitated, trying to decide if he should give Kenny the flowers or put something down to offer a handshake— like a dork. He managed neither before Kenny cussed. 

“Son of a bitch, you dressed nice, shit, stay there.” Kenny pointed at Adam to indicate where he should 'stay.' Then, Kenny vanished into the house, leaving the door ajar. Adam gaped, brow furrowed and blinking like an owl. A Gregorian choir in his brain chanted, ‘dork, dork, massive dork!’ 

Kenny hadn’t come back by the time Adam processed his absence. So, he took the first step over the threshold. “Uh, Kenny? I’m coming in?” Adam called, to no reply. 

The inside of the house had a blandly typical beach house vibe. White walls, seashell decor, stock paintings of the ocean, and blue accents. There was a wood sign on the entry hall wall that read: Happiness comes in waves. To his left was the kitchen, a large space, with expansive white countertops and black appliances. There were a few bowls and dishes left out, with signs of being used. The sink was to put it lightly, a wreck, filled with utensils, cutting boards, and knives. Adam put the milk and beer in the fridge. Then noted that the dining room table was set. Each place had a gleaming crimson plate. No forks or knives, just chopsticks. A drinking glass for water. Kenny even had even folded the cloth napkins. All set on a black placemat. Adam wandered on into the rest of the house in search of Kenny. Connected to the dining room was the living room. Tall windows on the East wall allowed an expansive view over the pool, yard, and ocean. The sliding glass back door had been left cracked, to allow the cool and brisk breeze in. Adam pushed his hands into his pockets and soaked in the ocean at sunset. 

Footsteps echoed down the far hall. Kenny passed the living room doorway, on the way to the kitchen. He caught Adam out of the corner of his eye and pulled back, changing direction at the last second. Kenny smiled and spread his arms wide so Adam could admire new outfit. He’d changed into dark jeans, a red v-neck, and a black blazer. Still in the loafers, Adam noted, but that was just part of the Kenny charm. 

“Better, right?” Kenny asked. He did a full turnaround and then jaunted over to Adam. He smoothed the lapel of his blazer down. “I didn’t give you a dress code, so I packed something nice to wear just in case. Didn’t wanna feel awkward in khakis, ya know?”

“Yeah, you look good,” Adam agreed, returning Kenny’s grin. They diverted their gaze to the floor together. Adam, trying to find something to say, exaggerated a  look around the house. “Is this your uh, home?”

“Nope! I rented it on Air BnB,” Kenny said, proudly. “I’ve never used the app before, but it found this pretty sweet crib, so I’m impressed. A little pricey maybe, but for an evening, just for us? Worth it, I’d say.”

Adam heard Kenny but he couldn’t think of a response. It hit him that the food on the counter, the set table, the entire house, pointed-to one thing. Kenny had planned this. He had to look for a house, find one, pay for it, plan a menu, buy food, bring tableware, find time. He had planned this at personal expense. He had put real thought into setting-up a dinner for him and Adam.  This wasn’t some off-the-cuff idea. The only improvised part about this was inviting Adam himself. And to think, Adam thought Kenny only wanted to Netflix and chill. 

“I, uh, I got you these,” Adam stammered. He held out the flowers to Kenny. “Just, a housewarming, gift, I guess for — for you.”

“Oh, you did, thank you, Cowboy,” Kenny smiled, he took the bouquet from Adam. He hesitated, awkwardly gripping the plastic casing of the flowers. 

“I guess, you can put it in some water?” Adam suggested. He scratched at the back of his head. 

“Yeah, right, good idea,” Kenny nodded, he stepped back from Adam, lingered for a second, and then headed to the kitchen. 

Adam followed Kenny and while Kenny tore through the cabinets in search of a vase, Adam took a second look. Beside the stove were three white bowls with flour, eggs, and panko crumbs. On the burner sat a large, cast-iron pot filled several inches deep with cooking oil. A thermometer rested beside the burner. Kenny exclaimed, “ah-ha,” When he came up with a vase. He filled it with water and settled the flowers in. Brow furrowed he poked a couple daisies upright. Kenny set the vase with the flowers in the middle of the table, as an impromptu centerpiece.

“There, that livens-up the place,” Kenny said, putting his hands on his hips. He smiled at Adam and the ocean, through the windows behind him, framed his face. His eyes bluer than the sea and Adam only just noticed he didn’t have his glasses on. Instead, the glasses were hooked in the pocket of his blazer. Adam was invited here, talking with Kenny, about to have dinner, and his trepidation only grew.

“Is this all for us?” Adam asked, he leaned against the kitchen doorway and shoved his hand in his pocket. With his other he gestured broadly at everything. 

“Yeah, I thought it would be nice?” Kenny admitted, it was his turn to shrug. “Just us, for once. We haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together recently and there's some, some things I wanted to talk to you about. Stuff that's— that's better here maybe than at Daily’s Place. Is it too much?”

Kenny looked bashful, his smile soft, peering at Adam, his hand working over the back of a chair. It was nervous and sweet, open in a way that Adam hadn’t seen in months. Words were hard, but pushing off the doorpost and walking over to Kenny was easier. For a second, Adam’s hands hovered between them, and then he hooked his fingers beneath Kenny’s lapel. Kenny giggled and rested his forehead against Adam’s, his breath tickling Adam’s bottom lip. 

“It’s perfect,” Adam murmured. He untangled from Kenny’s jacket and slid his hands down Kenny’s sides until Adam held his hips. Adam pushed his palms against the jut of Kenny's bone, “What's for dinner, chef Kenny?”

Kenny giggled and gripped at Adam’s hands. “Well, I was thinking,” he glanced back at the kitchen, “I’d make us Tonkatsu, you know, those pork cutlets you get in Japan, with the breading and cabbage? I haven’t had any in a while and it’s one of my favorite dishes. And I ordered sushi, and dessert, from a couple local places—”

“So, you’re cooking?” Adam asked, he quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, what’s so bad about that? I can cook,” Kenny protested. He pulled back from Adam and moved into the kitchen. Adam returned to his position by the doorpost as Kenny rummaged in the fridge. He pulled-out a bag of plastic boxes and then a platter of salted pork. Kenny rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’ll burn it? I promise only a little singe, for flavor. I mean it’s Tonkatsu, grade school children can make it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Adam laughed, he lifted his hands to placate Kenny. “It’s just, you never hit me as the cooking type. Order in and dine-out always seemed more your style.”

Kenny stuck his tongue out at Adam. He laughed though and turned the stove on to heat the oil. The plastic bag crinkled as Kenny sorted through small platters of elegant sushi and laid each on the counter. “We can eat this while the oil heats. I wish I had a nicer serving tray but I didn’t think to bring one, and this house doesn’t have one— I looked. Oh, and I don’t know how you feel about it, but I got some sake too. It’s in the fridge. Do you like it hot? I’ve never had it, so, I don’t know what’s better.”

“Man, I don’t even know,” Adam said. He never liked the flavor of sake —too dry for his taste— so he’d let the discussion drop and hope that was better than rejecting Kenny’s offer. Adam walked over to help Kenny carry the sushi to the table. “I got you milk, though, two percent. I uh— put it in the fridge.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kenny smiled.  

While Kenny removed the covers from the sushi, Adam fetched his meager contributions to the meal. He returned with the gallon of milk and an IPA. Adam poured Kenny a tall glass of milk and Kenny poured Adam’s beer. Teeth buried in his bottom lip, like this task was monumental, Kenny dumped the bottle into the glass. By the time the bubbles fizzed down, Adam’s ‘beer’ was mostly air. It was the thought that counted and Kenny looked pleased. Before sitting down himself, Kenny pulled-out Adam’s chair for him. Adam muttered his thanks and sat down. Kenny took his place on the opposite side of the table and used his chopsticks to divvy up the sushi pieces between them. 

“Where’d you get this?” Adam asked. 

“Sushiko, a small place by the river, Cody recommended it,” Kenny said. “It’s a nice little restaurant and we’re by the coast so the seafood is fresh. I mean it’s not really, authentic, but that’s hard to get in America anyway.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be good,” Adam countered. “Do you want the ginger?”

“Nah, you can have it,” Kenny said, to punctuate his point he picked up a heap of the ginger and plopped it onto Adam’s plate. “Do you remember how to use the chopsticks? It hasn’t been that long since you were last in Japan, right?”

“I order take-out once a month to keep my skills sharp,” Adam promised. He picked-up the chopsticks by his plate. Then, took the ends and stuck them beneath his top lip like a walrus, “Goes like this right?”

Kenny laughed, hand lifting to cover his mouth as his shoulders shook with racks of giggles. Adam smiled and wiped off his chopsticks with his napkin. It was the kinda joke he’d crack when he was ten, on the rare occasion his parents took the family out to eat. His sister would find it hilarious, his father and mother less so. Yet, it seemed to amuse Kenny to no end, and all that bashful shyness was gone when the laughter subsided. 

“Yeah, close enough,” Kenny said, waving his hand. “Here you should try the tempura roll, it’s my favorite of all the inaccurate American sushis.”

Kenny picked up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks and offered it over the table for Adam to try. Adam didn’t point out that he already had a piece of that type on his plate. He only leaned forward and opened his mouth so Kenny could feed him the sushi. Adam bit down and savored the taste of shrimp, rice, and crunchy breading. 

“It’s good,” he said, nodding and humming his approval.

“Isn’t it?” Kenny asked, he jammed a roll with avocado in his mouth and grinned, pleased. “It’s kinda cliché, but I love this stuff.” 

Adam took a sip from his beer to wash down the rice gummed behind his teeth.

“I’ve always meant to ask,” Kenny said, he pointed with his chopsticks at the beer. “Do you... like that stuff?”

“Beer? Yeah, pretty well, it’s not my favorite drink,” Adam admitted. He ate another piece of sushi and chewed through his thoughts. “It has to be a good beer, the cheap crap isn’t worth the calories. Pleases the hell out of a crowd though.”

“Yeah, don’t you have to drive back?” Kenny’s brow furrowed. 

Adam laughed, “A beer or two isn’t going to send me over, Kenny. It's not like liquor, it's a much lower alcohol content. I probably won't even feel the buzz, especially drinking on food. By the time I leave, I'll be close to zero. I try to keep track of my limits these days, and you know, it’s hard to be no carb and take shots.”

“Trainers got you on no carb?” Kenny asked, with a lifted brow. It was a quick change of topic and Adam appreciated the tact. 

“Yeah, have been for a while now, it’s probably better that way,” Adam shrugged. “You know not all of us shred fat like you.”

“Well, that’s not so easy these days,” Kenny admitted. “Not all of us are as young as you.”

“Hey, a few months and I’ll be thirty,” Adam pointed-out. “Or like, twenty-four by Cody’s metric, something like that.”

“You can’t say that being youngest wasn’t a good shake,” Kenny said. “You never had to pay for anything.”

“Just all the ribbing,” Adam grinned.

Adam popped some ginger in his mouth and waggled his eyebrows for emphasis. Kenny was all grins and the smiles were a relief. This wasn’t a total cluster fuck and Adam hadn’t said something to screw-up the mood. This was going much better than his anxiety allowed him to anticipate. A pause to eat lulled the conversation to a brief silence. Yet, Adam could tell by the way Kenny studied his Philadelphia roll, there was something on his mind. 

“So, uh, last night,” Kenny said, he placed his elbow on the table. “Did you sign a contract with Matt Hardy? Did I interpret that segment correctly? I was preparing for my match so I wasn’t really paying attention, but—”

Adam paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, and then he grinned. “I did.”

“Did you read that contract?” Kenny probed. “Listen, I know you and Hardy go back but I’m not sure you should trust that guy, Page. He’s a bit of a carny— I mean his gimmick is ‘Big Money Matt.’ That has got to be a warning sign. I know Matt and Nick brought him in by burying his vessel or whatever, but he’s changed a lot since the Stadium Stampede. He’s got the whole, I guess split personality thing going on?”

“Oh, I read the contract I signed,” Adam nodded. He savored the taste of a Dragon roll, fishy and popping with acidity. “Hardy didn’t, but I did.”

“Oh, really,” Kenny waxed, he pressed his finger tips to his chin. “Something you wanna fill me in on?”

“Yeah, I switched the contracts,” Adam said. 

Kenny gasped, “You switched the contracts?! Oh, ho, Page, I knew you were smart, brilliant, tell me everything.”

“Well, I knew he was going to invite me to a bar, because he said so on Twitter,” Adam began. “Like, you said, I’ve known Matt for a while and he’s always been a dick. He was talking all about how I’m going to be some great star or the ‘top guy’ in AEW, or whatever, some bullshit, but I kinda figured his plan was to get me drunk and willing to sign something stupid.”

He leaned back in his chair, sipping on his beer and thinking. Adam couldn’t get why every other manager in AEW was salivating at the idea of getting him on their payroll. The Dark Order was trying to recruit him. Taz was talking about him. Matt Hardy seemed to think Adam was the second coming of Jesus. Adam assumed that he was so sought after because the actual best wrestler in AEW was already spoken-for. And Jon Moxley wasn’t the type to tolerate companionship. So, that left Adam Page. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel. 

“So, I uh, had a little something prepared for him,” Adam shrugged. “I don’t think he’s figured it out yet, so like, don’t go spreading it around? Snitches get stitches, Kenny, and I mean it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Kenny promised. He pantomimed zipping-up his mouth, locking it, and throwing away the key. He leaned forward, hand bracing against the table. “But really, what was in the contract?’

“You wanna know?” Adam asked. 

“Yeah, I wanna know!” Kenny said. 

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” Adam smirked. “You’ll just have to find-out with Matt Hardy and everyone else. I don’t wanna pop the surprise.”

“Aw, Pizz, you’re killing me, now that’s all I’m going to think about for the rest of the night!” Kenny laughed, he deflated into his chair. Then he bounced back, livened with an idea. “Oh, I know, you made it so you get a third of his merch sales? A half?! Man, that’s brutal. Ooh, I know what you should’ve done, what I would do? Make him your butler for a few weeks, that would be funny.”

Adam chuckled, cheeks flushed with amusement. All he did was shake his head and keep his mouth shut. Kenny gave-up, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. While they ate, Kenny talked about the Women’s Title Eliminator tournament and all that went into organizing it. He seemed excited to debut the woman’s bracket next week. He promised that he had seen the matches, and they were, “fantastic.” In particular he was ecstatic about Aja Kong and Yuka progressing. Adam had no idea who Maki Itoh was beyond her Twitter, but Kenny was adamant she get a contract at some point. On his part Adam was happy to sit back —long after polishing off his own plate— and listen to Kenny, occasionally interjecting a question or an affirming, “mhm.” Eventually, Kenny got around to eating his last piece of sushi. His eyes darted beyond Adam’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet to go check on the oil. 

Adam turned in his seat to watch Kenny in the kitchen. He was eyeing a thermometer dipped in the pot. Pleased with the temperature, he moved to start working with the meat. Kenny used a skewer to dip a pork cutlet into the flour, then egg, then back into the flour. Adam cleared the sushi plates from the table. He rinsed them in the sink. He cleaned a few other dishes, cutting boards, and knives, listening to Kenny complain about getting flour on his fingers. Adam put the dishes on the rack and dried his hands on a towel. He wandered to Kenny’s side. Kenny had coated two cutlets in panko crumbs and the breaded meat sat on a plate ready to go. He fiddled with the thermometer, brow furrowed in concentration. He adjusted the temperature on the stove and then gripped the pot handle to center it on the burner. He hissed when his hand touched hot metal. Kenny stuck his finger in his mouth. 

“Hot,” he breathed to Adam. 

“Yeah, no shit, go rinse it under the cold water,” Adam ordered. “Are you okay?”

“Just my pride,” Kenny said, as he ran his finger under the faucet and washed his hands of flour. “I thought I was going to be so cool, making Tonkatsu for you, and you’d be like, ‘wow, look at Kenny be a boss in the kitchen,’ and now I’m just kinda—”

He returned to the stove and looked at the simmering oil with particular trepidation. 

“Now, I’m just kinda nervous,” he admitted, smiling again. “Like, I don’t want to fuck this up and ruin the evening, or something.”

“Do you want help?” Adam asked.

“How heroic,” Kenny pined. “A cowboy come to save me.”

“Yeah, yeah, mostly I just don’t want the food burned,” Adam said, stepping to Kenny’s side. He nudged his hip against Kenny’s and picked-up a skewer. The task was simple, pick-up the two pieces of meat and plunge them into the boiling oil. Yet, when Adam did it, Kenny looked at him like he did something astounding. Adam handed the tongs to Kenny, “you can flip them on your own, right?”

“Pfft, I got that,” Kenny bragged, taking the utensil from Adam. He positioned himself, watching as bubbles formed around the meat. The panko browned to an appetizing gold. As the meat cooked, it exuded juices that caused the oil to spit. Kenny yelped, when some struck his arm, shifting behind Adam. “Unless it fights back?!”

“Aren’t you the guy who fought a G1 with a fractured heel?!” Adam snapped. “Don’t be a baby, it’s just oil, it’s not going to bite you! Get in there.”

Kenny patted Adam’s shoulder and shifted to plunge the tongs into the oil. He flipped both pieces of meat. Although, he held the tongs at the furthest extent to avoid oil splatter. Adam placed his hand on the small of Kenny’s back to hold him steady as they waited the last minute for the meat to finish. It was such a simple gesture but Kenny’s nerves seemed to evaporate under his touch. Kenny fished out the cutlets and placed them diagonally on a draining rack. The cooking done, Kenny kicked Adam out of the kitchen while he finished the rest of the meal. Adam returned to the dining table, sat down, and enjoyed his beer. The soothing melody of Kenny banging around behind him as background noise. 

A few minutes later, Kenny placed a plate in front of Adam. The cutlet had been sliced thin and fanned across the edge of the plate. A generous heap of shredded cabbage piled in the middle garnished with a slice of tomato and lemon. On the side were pickled radishes. The colors popped and the meat smelled delicious. Kenny laid a small container of pouring sauce between them on the table. Kenny sat down with his own plate across from Adam.

“This is so— great, Kenny,” Adam breathed, looking over the food. He picked-up his chopsticks and dove in for the Tonkatsu. It was juicy and savory, with a nice crunch. Adam groaned, “It tastes fantastic.”

“Thanks, I was worried about overcooking it, but with you at my side, it was easy,” Kenny said, he smiled. He poured some sauce on his cutlet. “We make a great team.” 

Adam focused on pinching some cabbage between his chopsticks, eyes casting down to the plate. “Yeah, I— I guess we do.”

“Hey, it was just an observation,” Kenny said, he nudged Adam’s foot under the table with his own. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

“No, no, it’s fine,” Adam said. He took a sip of beer but didn’t taste it. “You’re right, I was just thinking— I’ve tagged with a lot of people lately, and none of them are like you. You really are the best.”

“That’s sweet, cowboy,” Kenny grinned, but Adam sensed the need to change the conversation. Mourning the tag-team wasn’t uplifting for either of them. 

“So, where did you learn to make this?” Adam asked. He gestured at the Tonkatsu. “’Cause it’s really good. Not going to lie, that’s what I miss about Japan— the food. They just don’t have the same, I don’t know, style? Yeah, style, in America.”

“Well, I learned from one of the ladies I stayed with when I first moved to Japan in, 2008, well, kinda learned,” Kenny elaborated. He shrugged, “mostly I just watched her cook and sometimes she let me help. She always did the bits with the oil because she was afraid I’d burn myself. My Japanese wasn’t good back then but I’m pretty sure she thought I was just an idiot.”

“I mean, you can be a bit,” Adam paused. Kenny pressed his lips thin, so he picked his next word carefully, “ditzy?”

“I’ll give you that,” Kenny said. “I wouldn’t trust me around a big pot of boiling oil either. You handled yourself pretty well in there, though.”

“Deep fried is a staple food in the rural south," Adam said. "It's a survival skill, where I'm from. It's okay, Kenny, you can kick my ass Street Fighter, later, so that way we're even."

The conversation slowed so they could finish eating. Just the sounds of chewing and chopsticks clacking. It was good, the cabbage contrasting to the meat, and the sauce adding a hint of sweetness. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfy silence, Adam wasn't looking for an excuse to breach it. It was just them, together, enjoying the mutual company. When Adam finished eating, just to gross out Kenny, he picked up his plate and licked it clean. The gesture had the intended effect of making Kenny screw-up his nose and expression. Adam took his last swig of beer and then carried both their plates to the sink. Adam helped Kenny tidy-up the kitchen. Adam washed the dishes and Kenny dried, putting the plates away on the shelves. They moved around each other like this was something they did every night. Yet, each time Kenny’s elbow jostled Adam or he moved a step closer, a warm heat spread across Adam’s skin. It was dark outside when they finished and Kenny turned on lights in the house to illuminate the rooms. 

“You up for cake, cowboy?” Kenny asked as he returned. He took a box out from the fridge and finagled the lid open. Inside the box was a small, white cake decorated with vanilla icing, raspberries, and fancy swirls. Kenny smacked Adam’s hand away when he tried to taste the frosting. 

"Ow," Adam grunted. He cradled his hand to his chest.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, but everyone likes vanilla, so I figured I couldn't go wrong,” Kenny admitted as he took the cake out of the box. Adam got plates and a knife to cut with. Kenny stuck his tongue out as he sliced into the cake. It was obnoxiously cute. He pointed with the knife, “Is this big enough?”

“That’ll do it,” Adam said.

 Kenny sliced the cake and put a piece on a plate that he handed to Adam, then cut his own piece. The inner filling of the cake was a bright red raspberry and Adam hummed, eager. to try Kenny took a fork and cut off a small piece of his cake slice. He offered the morsel to Adam. Once again, Adam let Kenny feed him. It was sweet, with a delicate crumb, and acidic with the fruit. Kenny opened his mouth, making an ‘ah’ sound, to indicate he wanted Adam to return the gesture. Adam obliged, watching with fascination as Kenny’s lips closed around the fork. A speck of icing trapped at the corner of his mouth. Before he could stop himself, Adam leaned forward and kissed it off— grinning all the way back as Kenny’s cheeks flushed. 

“You remember when we tricked that waitress into giving us free cake?” Kenny asked. His eyes lit-up, to divert his attention though, he glanced down for another bite. “That was— fun.”

“I don’t think we tricked anybody,” Adam laughed. "I think the waitress knew what was up the whole damn time."

“What, we weren’t a convincing couple?” Kenny asked. The question so earnest, his voice so soft, that Adam almost dropped his plate. Deep in Kenny's eyes hid a kernel of curious probing. Like he was testing the waters. Wading-out waist high in a surging tide.

“I— um, I guess we were.” Adam ducked his head, but Kenny shoved at his shoulder and the tension dissipated. 

“I’m just teasing you, Hangers,” he laughed. “Eat your cake, before I do. Hey, I know, why don’t we go sit outside? C’mon.”

Kenny had already split off and so that settled it. Adam got a beer from the fridge and followed Kenny out the back door. At the edge of the pool was a small sitting area with chairs and a couch. The ocean crashed against the shore, loud and echoing in Adam's inner-ear. He felt the tide wearing away the sand in his teeth. Kenny sat down on the couch, tossing his phone on the coffee table. He crossed his legs up and finished off his cake. Adam joined him on the other side of the couch. They remarked on the flavors of the cake and speculated if the icing was cream cheese or not. Finished eating, Kenny put his plate down and lounged back against the cushions. 

Adam studied Kenny’s profile. His straight nose and angular jaw, the untamed stubble on his cheeks. His lips pink with red raspberries. In red and black, he looked marvelous. The wind tussling his curls. And his eyes, so scarce these days, holding every emotion Adam hoped to see reflected in them. Adam’s heart collided with the inside of his ribs. He took his last bite of cake and put aside the dishes. Then, for courage, he swigged on his beer and set that aside too. He leaned into the cushions, adjusting a pillow underneath his right elbow. 

“Hey,” he said, voice coarse and weak, the word lost to the ocean. Kenny looked at him, hearing him anyway, and Adam opened his arms wide, “What are you doing over there? Get your ass over here.”

Kenny slid over until he leaned against Adam’s side. Adam swung his legs up onto the couch and pulled Kenny against his chest. Kenny settled between his legs and Adam draped his arm over Kenny’s back. Something dislodged in Adam’s lungs and he breathed easy for the first time in months. Kenny sighed and pressed his cheek to Adam’s collarbone. His hand ran over Adam’s bicep. Adam reached over Kenny, picked-up his beer, and took another casual swig. Part of him regretted the alcohol because now his breath must smell like beer and cake. The other part of him needed it to function in this moment. 

Adam drew broad circles between Kenny’s shoulder blades, feeling each hard muscle, defined and strong beneath his hand. Kenny was warm in contrast to the cool night, like a little personal heater. Adam chuckled, content as he leaned back against the arm rest. Kenny turned his face into Adam’s chest and buried his nose into Adam’s shirt. He shuddered in Adam’s arms, a full body tremble working all the way down his spine. Adam lifted his hand to work his fingers through Kenny’s hair and curls. A little coarser now since he dyed it, black and silver. Adam didn’t know what else to say or think, or do. Didn’t know if this was Kenny using him for comfort or something more. If he was supposed to read between the lines, look for the fine text, or just be a quiet and good pillow. Maybe, he'd just pretend that the way Kenny clung to him was because of love. 

“I like your hair like this,” Adam mused. He ran his fingers through Kenny’s scalp. It was an easier question than: why did you bring me here? What do you want from me? What are we? 

“Thanks,” Kenny muttered. He turned his cheek to press against Adam’s chest. Adam considered that an improvement. 

“Are you okay?” He managed. 

Kenny sighed, shoulders heaving. He wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and cinched in, holding him close. It was the total experience of being owned. That Adam was Kenny’s to have and hold onto. It was possessive in a way that thrilled Adam. That there were seven billion people on this planet and he was the one Kenny Omega invited to a rented house for dinner. Adam was the one who got to hold Kenny Omega, not anyone else. Adam was the one Kenny Omega wanted to be held by. It had to mean something. He wanted it to mean something. Please, let it mean something. 

“It’s just,” Kenny whispered. His voice soft, but Adam carded his fingers through Kenny’s hair to encourage each word forth. “Sometimes, I realize one day I could die. I could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. There’s be no one to miss me and that— that terrifies me more than death itself.”

Then, Kenny laughed, shaking his head, giggling like he said something funny. Not something that Adam had no idea how to react to. Every word of it raised a protest inside Adam though. That he cared, that he would notice, that he would be devastated to lose Kenny. That he lost Kenny once and he had no intentions of ever doing it again. Except, Adam had no idea how to say all that in a way that made sense. When he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out but a huff of carbon dioxide. Kenny tensed, feeling Adam’s diaphragm tighten. It was as if Adam’s anxiety infused and intertwined with Kenny's, into something ugly between them. Adam could just hold Kenny tighter and that would make Kenny understand. Hold so tight to Kenny that he couldn’t leave, couldn’t go anywhere, and they’d just fit together, and it’d work. 

Except, Adam was no longer so young and stupid as to believe that would work. It wasn’t enough to ask Kenny, ‘do you trust me,’ when he already breached that trust. Adam couldn’t hold on alone, they had to meet in the middle. These things had to be mutual. This was a two street and Adam had no idea if Kenny was walking towards him or away. He was just a blur in the distance that he was chasing like hell. As if, when he caught Kenny, he’d get the answers to the questions he was too afraid to ask. 

Kenny shifted, pushing back against Adam and the awkward silence between them. The silence Adam let linger too long. He wondered if just screaming would work better than this. Kenny sat-up, and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. He clung to one of Adam’s hands like it was a life raft in the middle of that ocean out there. They sat thigh-to-thigh, hip-to-hip. Maybe, that’s how Adam felt, like Kenny was drowning and all he could do was yell advice from the shoreline. 

“Look,” Kenny began, he licked his lips. He stared at where their knees touched. Adam could feel Kenny's pulse fluttering beneath his fingers. “There’s something I gotta tell you.”

Kenny giggled again, shoulders shaking and Adam had no idea what the joke was. He placed his other, free hand on Kenny’s shoulder. 

“I set all of this up to tell you, but I— I don’t know what to say,” He admitted. He shook his head and squeezed Adam’s hand. 

“Whatever, whatever you feel, man,” Adam offered, lamely. “You know I’m here for you.”

“Look—” Kenny began.

He looked-up, gunmetal blue eyes matching Adam’s gaze. The warm glow from the house burned his cheeks gold and he shivered. Kenny was scared, the thought hit Adam like a gunshot. Terrified, looking at Adam, like Adam was going to hurt him. Like a whipped dog anticipating being taken out back.  

“Adam, I—”  he began, then a sharp chime cut him off.

Both Kenny and Adam looked down at Kenny’s phone on the coffee table. Don Callis, calling Kenny, the phone vibrating against the glass. Kenny withdrew his hand, untangling from Adam, scooting away. Like, he'd been burned and scalded, like he just put his hand back on that pot handle and this time gripped tight. “I’m not— I’m not going to answer it. I— I told him I’d be busy,” Kenny stammered, his hands working through his hair. There was a bite to his tone that set Adam’s heart on fire. “I don’t know why he’s calling me he should know.”

As Kenny’s pitch hitched and his voice cracked, Adam lunged forward to hit the decline button on the phone. The phone stopped ringing and Kenny sighed, his face stricken pale. Adam himself breathed for the first time in almost a minute, slowly leaning back into the couch. His hands rested on his knees. The ocean crashed and receded. 

“He can leave a damn voice mail,” Adam managed, cracking a half-grin but when he looked at Kenny it was not returned. Instead, Adam met wild eyes and a pale face, white with fear. In a few seconds it calmed, the war raging in Kenny dying down as he glanced away from Adam. As Adam watched Kenny pulled the glasses-free from his front pocket and shoved them on his face. He licked his lips, jaw working tight. “Kenny, is everything okay?”

“Fine, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Kenny repeated, his hands rubbed over his thighs. “I’m not— I’m not going to keep you, you can go. It was— It was fun tonight, thanks.”

Kenny lifted and waved his hand as if to dismiss Adam. Adam’s felt his temper go through the roof, just a moment of complete rage that calmed immediately. There were no words, just screaming like if he opened his mouth, a long drawn howl would escape instead of anything coherent. And that was the best he could do to express the emotions in his head. His teeth gritted and Adam rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to clear out the thoughts from his head. 

“No, wait, Kenny what did you want to tell me?” Adam asked. “What were you trying to say before Don called?”

“All, I wanted to do was just tell you that— that,” Kenny stuttered, and Adam had no faith that what came out of his mouth next was the truth. “That you can always talk to me if you need it. That, that I’m here for you, Page, and like, that you don’t need to go signing stupid contracts with Matt Hardy, but you didn’t so, it’s really not a problem. You— you didn’t need me.”

“Is that it?” Adam asked, he glanced around the house. Thought of the sushi and the home-cooked meal. Of cake and Kenny dressing nice just for Adam. “You did all this, just to tell me that? Are you sure that’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“What do you think?” Kenny asked, he peered at Adam. The glasses and his expression were like a brick wall. Impassive, unreadable, and drawing Adam to a total stop. Adam’s stomach twisted, lips parted in unvoiced confusion. Adam couldn’t answer the question because he was afraid of what Kenny thought. Kenny didn't love him, Kenny didn't care, Kenny was using him.

 “Seriously, Page, I’m fine— you can leave if you want,” Kenny repeated. “It was fun tonight.”

“No, no, no, Kenny,” Adam interjected. “No, I’m not just leaving, I’m not going anywhere until I get some damn answers about what the hell is going on. I’ve been out of my mind for months trying to figure us— this, out.  It ain’t even just about what you did to Moxley or any of the other crap. I was with you in Japan, I know how you are. Excalibur may be scandalized but I was there when you won the Intercontinental title off Tanahashi. I know how it goes. What gets me, is that you hadn’t done that shit since Japan. Ever since Don Callis came back you’ve been acting weird and I think by this point I deserve some damn answers.”

“Okay, fine, fine, what do you want to know?” Kenny demanded. He crossed his arms over his stomach. “I am an open book.”

“It’s just, I don’t know—” Adam stumbled over his words, the real questions getting in the way of the ones he could actually ask. What are we? So, instead, he stumbled-on, “Are you sure you can trust Don?”

“Of course, I can,” Kenny scoffed. “We’re changing the business Adam, changing the world, history! All those solid steel doors, those arbitrary barriers in our sport? They’re gone now! Impact, New Japan, NWA, Stardom, they’re all clamoring to get a spot on our show. We are the hottest thing in wrestling, not WWE, us. Tony Khan, the Bucks, and Cody, the whole locker room, they should be thanking us, we’re giving them jobs, improving their pay checks, and what do we get?! Just like you said, Excalibur on commentary with a bad attitude. No one else shares my vision, no one else gets it, not like Don does.”

Kenny shook his head, curls flopping around. He spoke fast, quickly, trying to get to the next words as soon as possible. 

“I thought that was all bullshit,” Adam admitted. “Just shit Don was making-up to justify taking the title.”

“Page, please!” Kenny said, his hand fluttering in Adam’s direction. “We’ve been planning something like this for years. This isn’t a mere money-making scheme, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy. And yeah, maybe that means I can’t be around Matt and Nick as much anymore, maybe the locker room hates me, maybe I’m not as popular with the audience— big deal. They’ll come around, they always come around, they’ll realize how much I’ve done for them. People change, this is— this is bigger than any one person.”

“Oh, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy?” Adam asked, he lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Kenny pushed to his feet and Adam stood too. Kenny’s hands fluttered around and something flexed in his jaw like he was chewing on sand. His voice was darker, biting with anger as he shook his finger at Adam. “Don’t even start with me, Page, about who to trust. We both know your track record.”

“Matt Hardy doesn’t give a shit about me,” Adam stated. Kenny stepped-in like it was a warning, but Adam squared his shoulders and with a look wilted Kenny. Adam took sick satisfaction in the inch or two of height he had. To lift his chin, and stand his ground. “And Don Callis doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Don is like family to me,” Kenny snapped, his finger jutted into Adam’s face, his voice lifting in pitch and volume. Adam couldn’t remember if they ever got to this point with each other, yelling. No, he remembered some shoves in the ring. “He cares about me. I know he does. I’ve known him since I was a child, Page. It’s not the same thing.”

Adam worked his teeth into his bottom lips. He placed his hand on his hips and glanced towards the ocean. Black and churning, the waves thrown in turmoil, rolling, clawing-up the beach to high tide. Adam let himself feel the wind in his hair and his pounding heart. He glanced back at Kenny. 

Back in the day, Biz Cliz days, the Bullet Club, and the Elite was Kenny’s family. They were the ones who looked after him after matches. They were the ones who fetched ice or hot packs for his injuries. They were the ones at ringside. The ones in his tag-teams. The ones who helped him pick-out clothes or get in his ring gear. Adam thought they were family and he had fought like hell for that family. Scrabbled to keep the little niche of home he’d found, that place he belonged. He spared a thought, that something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. So wrong, that Kenny, went to someone else instead of his family. FTR, the Dark Order, Matt Hardy, the Good Brothers, Don, all these side distractions instead of the stable that cared about them. Egos blew-up, friendships faded, but it took more than a couple of arguments to break the Elite. There was a looming specter, sticking his fingers in the crack. Adam may’ve left the Elite but he always thought there’d be something to go back to. He never thought his absence would unravel his friends— never dreamed it. 

He didn’t even think they’d notice he was gone. 

“Does your family usually hit you with a microphone?” Adam asked. 

Kenny’s lips parted, his jaw falling slack. His shoulders drooped and then he rubbed his hand beneath the rims of his glasses. He crossed his arms, gaze turning downwards. Adam’s hands fell to his sides, feeling that the fight was over. Kenny shook his head as if to physically dislodge Adam’s words from his skull. Kenny was a fighter, he was a leader, he was a crazy visionary, who did his own thing. He always had an argument in him. He always kicked-out. He fought sixty minute matches against Okada. The way he capitulated in defeat here and now was fascinating because it was so against him. It was like Adam pushed back and found nothing but dust. That he had glanced back over his shoulder and suddenly Kenny had turned to salt. A pillar of salt, crumbling in Adam’s hands. A divine and cruel trick, stealing from him what he most desired, at the last possible second. 

Adam sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Then, Kenny lurched forward and pressed his forehead into Adam’s shoulder. Adam closed his eyes and reached-up to tangle his fingers back in Kenny’s hair. He worked out a knot and then smoothed his palm down Kenny’s back. Kenny trembled against him, fingers twisted in Adam’s shirt. It was a desperate grip, like this attention and concern was foreign to Kenny. Like he was starved and Adam supposed that made sense because this didn’t feel like something Don Callis would do. Because Don Callis didn't care about Kenny. He wouldn't take care of Kenny, not like his friends would— like they were supposed to. They had failed Kenny and so he went to someone else. (They had failed Adam and so he had went to someone else). Adam hummed, low in his throat, and buried his nose in Kenny’s hair. He smelled of cologne and sea salt, and everything Adam missed. 

“Forget about Don,” Adam said. “I— I shouldn’t’ve said that, it’s none of my damn business.”

“I just don’t want to fight with you,” Kenny admitted. “I don’t— I don’t deserve you, Page.”

“Nah, don’t say that,” Adam shook his head. “Because if you were gone, you know I’d miss you, right? I ain’t got that many friends left, Kenny. You’re special to me.”

“Charmer,” Kenny grunted. 

“Can’t coast on just my good looks, you know,” Adam chuckled. He wrapped both his arms around Kenny and drew him tighter. Knowing that he was being used. Knowing that they were no closer now than they were before. “Gotta have some personality.”

“Hmm, but you are good-looking,” Kenny agreed. His hands smoothed down Adam’s side, unabashed in feeling the muscles and curves of his waist. “You’re very handsome, cowboy.”

Adam chuckled as Kenny wrapped his arms around him. It felt good to be needed. Good to be wanted and held. To be possessed by someone. Adam wanted Kenny to own him. But, he wasn’t sure if it was real or if Adam was just here, and hot, and it worked. 

“I can stay,” Adam murmured. “Just one night, you and me, like— like in the hotel.” 

“You— you want to?” Kenny asked. He pulled from Adam to look at him, or rather let Adam look at his glasses. “I have an extra toothbrush.”

“Good, because all my shit is at the hotel,” Adam said, flashing a grin. 

Adam tapped Kenny on the back to urge him back inside. Adam carried in the plates and his mostly undrunk beer. At the kitchen sink, he chugged a few big gulps and poured the rest of the alcohol down the drain. Adam rinsed and cleaned the dishes, while Kenny finished tidying-up behind him. The domesticity was intoxicating, giving Adam more of a buzz than the beer. It was deceptive too. For a second, Adam could pretend they did this little ritual every night. Clean-up after dinner, put-away all the dishes, and then, turn off the kitchen lights, head for bed. As Adam followed Kenny down the hall to the master bedroom, he rubbed the sweat off his palms and onto his pants legs. 

The master bedroom had a large bed, a couch, desk and chair, and a TV on a stand. A sliding door connected to the back patio outside. Airy, light blue curtain hung over the windows and glass. The walls were painted white and the bedding was blue. The typical beach decor was as bland as the rest of the house. Kenny rummaged around in a suitcase, left on a couch with a few stray articles of clothes on the cushions. He procured a set of soft fabric shorts and tossed them to Adam. 

“I don’t sleep in pajamas like you do, Pizz,” Kenny said. His early energy was gone and he said all of it like it was a statement of fact. Adam didn't doubt Kenny's ability to put on a show though. Even if he felt like shit he'd find a way to hide it. “So, you’ll just have to do with my work-out clothes. I washed them, I promise.”

“Are you going to sleep in your X-men undies again?” Adam teased. Kenny found a toothbrush but instead of handing it to Adam, he chucked it at Adam’s head. Adam caught the flung toothbrush with a clap of his hands. “Hey, I like Wolverine!”

“No, for the record I wore briefs this time,” Kenny said. He shrugged off his blazer and smiled softly, almost regretfully. “I came prepared.”

Adam stepped around the edge of the room, watching as Kenny peeled off his shirt. He’d seen Kenny shirtless a thousand times. He could map each expanse and stretch of muscle, the powerful curve of his back, his thick arms, and broad shoulders. This time felt special, significant, especially when Kenny glanced over his shoulder at Adam and caught him watching. Adam ducked his head and escaped into the bathroom. 

Once the door was closed behind him, he stared at himself in the mirror. Adam splashed cold water on his face and then brushed his teeth. He changed into Kenny’s shorts, used the toilet, and left, wiping his hands on the hand towel. Kenny had changed into a pair of sweat pants and he was yanking the curtains closed over the window. Adam walked-up behind him, hooked an arm around Kenny’s waist and pulling him back to his chest. 

“I’ll wait for you in bed,” Adam murmured, dipping his head to speak in Kenny’s ear. “Don’t take too long, I’m tired.” 

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chuckled. “You know, I like it when you boss me around.”

“Make sure you wash behind your ears,” Adam ordered, severely. 

Adam tapped Kenny’s hip and sent him off towards the bathroom. He turned off the bedroom lights and the nightstand lamp then slid underneath the covers of the bed. It felt like this would be easier if he didn’t have to look at Kenny. Then they wouldn’t have to face anything, just be with each other. The bed was softer than Adam was used to and he fought the mattress to roll over on his side, punching at the pillow to get it shaped right. The ocean rumbled and Adam sighed, exhaling with the tide. He heard the bathroom door open and the latch close behind Kenny. He heard each pad of Kenny’s footsteps on the carpet before the mattress dipped and Kenny slid into bed. Adam rolled over, reaching for Kenny and guiding him closer. Kenny shimmied over and Adam tucked his arm over Kenny’s side, his hand resting over Kenny’s stomach. He pressed his nose into Kenny’s neck and Kenny hooked his calf around Adam’s leg to bring them flush. Every inch of Kenny’s body pressed against Adam. Kenny laid his hand over Adam’s and intertwined their fingers. Kenny rumbled, content, then slid his foot down to put his ice cold toes on Adam’s ankle. Adam jerked, cussing, and Kenny giggled. 

Adam’s eyes fluttered closed. Kenny’s breath as gentle as the ocean. He’d been dreaming about this for months, having Kenny back here. The memory of the hotel room a poor substitute for having him under Adam’s arm. Warm, heavy, his pulse tangled with Adam’s. Adam wiggled his arm underneath Kenny and clutched him tighter. He nuzzled his nose into Kenny’s neck. Here he could say anything. Anything at all, whisper it and pretend Kenny was sleeping, and Kenny could pretend he was sleeping if he didn’t want to hear it. And it’d be like a confession, words lost to empty air, absolution offered to wash them clean. Adam opened his mouth and nothing came out. Instead his lips moved and he mouthed, “I love you.” Without uttering a single sound. Then again, “I love you.” 

“Adam,” Kenny grunted, and Adam almost panicked, wondering for a second if he had actually said those things out loud. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Adam asked, sleep dragged at his mind, making him a little dumb. 

“Staying,” Kenny said. “I know I— I freak-out on you there.”

“It's fine,” Adam whispered. “It happens. Wanna hear a crazy idea I have?”

Kenny shifted, wiggling in Adam’s arms to turn over. Adam grunted when Kenny dug his elbow into his ribs so he could leverage himself onto his opposite side. Kenny buried his face in Adam’s chest and Adam wondered if that was just how he preferred to sleep. Adam rolled onto his back and dragged Kenny with him. He let his fingers play with the ends of Kenny’s hair as the other hand interlaced with Kenny’s on his stomach. Kenny settled himself and Adam licked his lips, just stupid enough to share this crazy idea. 

“Hit me, cowboy,” Kenny ordered. 

“We leave in the morning,” Adam suggested. “I don’t know where to, maybe nowhere specific, but it’s just the two of us. Sleeping in motels, eating shit at dinners, and working the indies— making like fifty bucks a show, so there’s never enough money but we make it work. Maybe we’re a tag-team again or it’s just us in singles. We dominate the competition, earn those dumb little regional belts we used to own. No more stakes, no more crap, just— wrestling, fun as it used to be.”

“We’d be recognized,” Kenny muttered, and Adam remembered the goofy BTE bits he used to shoot down for Kenny. Poking holes in the logic or saying the joke wasn’t funny. All because he was afraid of committing to an idea. Turn about was fair play he guessed. “We could— we could wear masks.”

“You ever wrestle in a mask?” Adam asked. 

“No,” Kenny admitted.

“Sucks,” Adam grunted, “And the moment you did a One-Winged Angel, everyone would know who you are. It’d just be El Generico all over again.”

“We should go horse riding,” Kenny suggested, he yawned. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Next time you’re in Virginia,” Adam promised. “I’ll take you.”

“Mhmm, maybe that should be sooner, rather than later,” Kenny smiled. He settled then and Adam shut-up so he could sleep. In a few moments Kenny breathed easily, and steadily, his eyes closed. Adam twirled a black curl around his finger, absent-minded. 

“I love you,” he said, to the empty room. An observation, a statement of fact, Adam kissed the top of Kenny’s head. This time, he whispered into those curls, “I love you.” 

And then he adjusted himself so he was comfortable in the pillows. Adam sagged, the tension bleeding out of his stiff frame like water. Kenny mumbled softly in his sleep and Adam tucked him close to his side. Thoughts twisted-up in his head, Adam drifted unconscious. Then, when his eyes opened, the room was bright, light spilling in through the thin curtain. The sea raged and the gulls cried. His arm was dead weight, asleep. Adam blinked, lifting his head. In the night, he and Kenny had shifted. Kenny’s head laid on his bicep as he slept. His hand rested on Adam’s chest, fingers crooked. Needing blood flow back in his fingers, Adam slipped his arm out from under Kenny’s head. He sat-up in the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. Adam opened and closed his hand, fingertips tingling painfully. He looked down at Kenny. 

His hair was in total disarray, tangled on the pillows. A little bit of drool welled at the corner of his parted lips and he breathed rough, long, slow. Without Adam, he turned onto his side. Adam slid out of the bed. He found his jeans and changed back into his clothes. Adam stepped into his boots and returned to the kitchen. He rummaged in the fridge, the options were meager. Eggs, ketchup, cheese, milk, and luckily, a pack of bacon— probably stuff Kenny bought specifically for breakfast, based on the large container of protein powder beside the fridge. He poked through the cabinets and found the flour from last night, but also sugar, baking powder, cheap imitation vanilla, and salt. 

Adam was methodical as he cracked eggs to scramble and for pancakes. He whipped-up the batter in a bowl and found the frying pans in a lower drawer. The back burner slow-cooked bacon with a tantalizing sizzle and on a front burner, Adam cooked the pancakes. Making just enough for him and Kenny. He cleaned-up as he went, leaving dishes on the drying rack. He did the eggs last, scrambling them with cheese and pepper, when he heard the water run, indicating Kenny was up and using the bathroom. A few minutes later Kenny wandered into the kitchen, rubbing the heel of his hands over his eyes. He paused in the doorway, gaping as Adam assembled two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

“Mornin’,” Adam grunted, as he took a knife and fork out of the drawer. He walked over to the table and sat down. 

“You made breakfast? I should invite you over more, geez,” Kenny said. He sat down with his plate. “Did you sleep, okay?”

“Not too bad,” Adam said. He watched as Kenny took a bite of eggs and grinned as Kenny moaned almost obscenely. “Was pretty nice sleeping next to you.”

“Well, cowboy, you can do that anytime you want,” Kenny promised. He tapped his fingers against the table. “So, I guess you’re heading out then?”

“Yeah, I gotta,” Adam said. “I got a seven-hour drive, training and working-out to get on, and like, I’m bleeding money paying my neighbor’s daughter to watch my dogs. But uh, this, thing, last night, it was fun? We should do it again.”

“Including the cuddling?” Kenny asked, propping his chin against his hand. He picked-up a piece of bacon between his fingers and cheekily tore a piece off. “I couldn’t agree more. Especially, if you’re going to cook like this.”

“Definitely the cuddling, you’re a pretty good hand warmer,” Adam nodded. He scrapped the last of the eggs onto his fork and polished it off with some pancake. He stood-up and took his plate to the sink while Kenny finished eating. 

Kenny followed Adam out as he returned to his car. They hugged and Adam settled into the driver seat. He recalled the inane story he spun last night, where they go back to the indies and pretended the past year didn’t happen. It wasn’t fleeting because it was impossible. It was simply too late. As Adam turned the ignition he wondered if he could convince Kenny to come back with him to North Carolina instead. Just hide there until the next Dynamite or something. Steal a little bit more time. He put the car in the reverse and let the thought die under the rear wheels. 

#ofgrief #‘The Idiot Speaking’ || OOC #‘Beloved’ || Adam and Kenny #‘Deals with God’ || Adam: Verse #i bet there's at least a few typos in this but it's in god's hands now

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ bonus 2020-02-01

bladekindeyewear:

Boy that sure is a new HS^2 bonus I should blogread.  And there was a commentary on the Patreon for the last proper upd8 too.

I’ll… do it sometime this weekend, not right away.  (Had a stomach virus through Monday and Tuesday that’s left me pretty fucked over and still waiting for the aftereffects to flee.)

Alright, taking a crack at both of these now.  (Both light on images and quoting, since it’s all Patreon material.)  So what’s going on here?  Are the bonus chapters splitting into separate stories perhaps, following the lecture in one and the PS^2 crew in another?  Also, from the replies on the previous:

gaaraofsburbia said: It was very good and I was very happy

Good to know.  Time to read, bonus first! *clicks link*

...the title of a book someone’s holding.  Bookmarked (with a red flag?).  Uh huh.  Good start.

> ==>

“A picture book for young parliamentarians.) ...oh wow, it’s Carapacian even.  Did the Mayor have anything to do with this book?

--Wait.  Waitwaitwait.  This isn’t-- the authors wouldn’t go back in time and show us like-- PM and the Mayor trying to start the-- nooo.

> ==>

Oh shit, never mind.  This is a book ABOUT the Mayor.  Starting from him farming on Skaia and continuing from there with a focus on societal structures presumably.  So, sort of like what I just said but not quite as goddamn heartwrenching, most likely.

You know, this WOULD have been a good opportunity for the authors to finally bring some canon awareness to all the rampant Breath and Blood visual-and-textual symbolism around WV and PM’s arcs, giving people some HINT of their potential importance outside some crazy unproven blog post on some crazy wrong person’s blog.  But I’m not really convinced Andrew or his new replacements, er... y’know.  Care.  About letting us know about all that cool shit.  Or even dissuading us if we were somehow wrong.  Just gonna... let us haaaang in the breeeze there forever, more likely.  :T

...this is still what I’m most bitter about regarding the end of Homestuck, as you can obviously tell.  Thinking -- still believing -- that we found something beautiful and deliberate he’d done, but refusing to have canon openly acknowledge any of it so that 99% of readers will never have a clue about it and the few of us who caught on -- if right -- are just regarded as nutters, and if wrong, NEVER have what we need to finally disprove and accept that wrongness thanks to his silence, thus continuing to believe wrongly and be regarded as nutters.

So I just keep reading and... vacillating.  Vacillating on whether to believe any of this will get brought up in HS^2 canon, or whether to cynically fear they’ll take the worst route:  Doing things EXACTLY like Andrew did and dropping only vague hints that keep it an implied-only, unconfirmed mystery forever.  Because that’s what made the comic popular!  And it’s “safe”.  :(

...man, gut issues really bring the pessimist out of you, don’t they.  Let’s keep reading.  Once upon a time there was a simple farmer...

> ==>

Horrible kings kept fighting and didn’t care about the land, destroying it underneath their war.  Right.  (Mostly paraphrasing here and from now, mind you.)

> ==>

WV wanted to stop the kings, but the kings had power.

> ==>

That power had to be destroyed too.  (Shows the rings.)

> ==>

Hm, the journey that ends up in the rings’ destruction to the desert?  Are we going to fill in some context here?

> ==>

--And made friends with curious creatures and powerful people!  (Showing the fake Can Town built with Dave and Karkat along the meteor trip.)

Assumedly internalizing all those practice-town lessons, of course.

> ==>

--Oh, cool!  So one of the first things WV and PM did upon coming to Earth C to start their founding process was destroy the rings, the temptation of that power, throwing it into the Forge.

EDIT: krixwell said: "I don't know exactly how it reads in the bonus update because I'm not a patron, but WV and PM throwing the rings in the Forge happened before they entered Universe C, and was shown in HS proper (8107-8111, 8123-8126 and at the beginning of [S] Act 7). It was required to light the Forge and send the Genesis Tadpole to Skaia." Ah, file that under more things I forgot about, then.

> ==>

Where once nothing,

> ==>

Earth C was founded/born, etc.

> ==>

Ah okay!  So with a backdrop of the Town Hall under construction, we’re getting some context specifically as to how and why the Mayor set up society the way he did on Earth C.  Especially the challenging question of who would govern the world and how.

> ==>

Oh shit, text dump!  :D

The problem was unfortunately compounded by the fact that when the topic of fair and effective governance is broached, most sparing intellects immediately assume a certain posture. Not one of surrender or admiration, but of abject and interminable boredom.

This fact makes it hard to treat such a fascinating subject with the proper amount of attention and enthusiasm, BUT WE SHALL DO OUR BEST TO UNDERSTAND REGARDLESS.

Alright, loving this.

Also, this’ll undoubtedly put into context just how MUCH the Mayor had to think about how society would work best to have set up -- and how little comparative thought Jane put into the process when just drafting up something United-States-like and familiar.  Remember how awful it was the childlike way the Condesce essentially kept trying to recreate her familiar surroundings and rule structure on Earth?  It was only natural that her Life-aspected protege would make similar errors, I suppose.

Back to reading this long page... I won’t just quote all the details of this representative system, because that’s up to y’all to pony up for.  But I’ll note if there’s anything interesting in it that makes me think.  Let’s see...

...Hm!  The number of seats each kingdom got in parliament was based on voter turnout... THAT’S a heavy incentive to get out the vote, if your kingdom can literally lose influence if you don’t.

On the happy occasions where the maximum number of seats were allocated in all four quarters, this was known as a "full House".

Oh, fuck you.  :)

...oh dear, that was only the beginning of the card slang.

I’m not going to list all of them here.  They make sense in context, which is even worse.

Without going into too much detail, consorts all tend to have significantly shorter lifespans than the other citizens of Earth C. Because of this, a large number of House Rules were dedicated to describing exactly what to do if a seat was vacated mid-term due to the death of its occupant.

Not the carapacian kingdom, the consort kingdom.  Don’t panic, y’all.

The DELIVERY OF JUSTICE (DoJ) was founded to keep the peace and arbitrate in all legal matters, and its members were the brave soldiers of God in this righteous crusade.

They also took care of the MAIL.

Oooooof course.  :)

Unions get their rep, if only for a pun...

Oh, hm.  The Mayor’s office is much like a ceremonial-only monarch’s office without serious power.  Etc etc...... reading...

So governing Earth C was a complicated affair, and only became more convoluted over time. But the really important thing was that, despite all this complexity, it worked. It really worked. At one point, a whole field of mathematics was developed just to explain why the interim government worked so well, and they ended up proving it categorically. It was theoretically perfect.

Ppfffff

--ah.  And then the Mayor has a chill as he looks at the clouds and somehow anticipates something terrible happening to it all.

That’s it for the bonus.  I’m guessing the next chapter of this separate bonus story will go over some sort of threat the system endured, while the Mayor was still alive, possibly?  Or cut forward to the creators’ arrival and how that fucked a bunch of stuff up?  A sort of demonstration on why the gods who create a universe shouldn’t take charge of those living in it or such?  Hm.

Alright, if that’s it for the bonus, let’s see what’s available for Patreon commentary... here we go, just the one for the latest mainline upd8 that I knew had come out.

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 3, How Are Your Feelings

Before starting into this, I want to note that I do have SOME ray of hope for more Awake Jade involvement to shine against my previous rant -- because that OTHER callie-controlled younger Jade body is coming, which I’d forgotten about.  As soon as the pursuit crew arrives in-system and THAT Jade finally gets there through whatever black-hole-powered teleportation magic she’s using (with Aradia and Robodave), it’ll be completely safe for OUR Jade to be awake and active at will.  Theoretically.

So... y’know, that’s nice.  Whenever that will happen.

So onto the commentary, we’re starting with that stupid ship.

(I think I actually said something along the lines of, "this is stupid, so we're using it." I know my Homestuck history. For those interested, the ship is modelled after a schooner, and continues the Homestuck tradition of spaceships that look like regular sea-faring vessels, only with additional stuff bolted on. - Pip)

...Yeah, can’t blame you there.

This is Jake’s “second best” ship. It makes me really nervous to think about what the third-best looks like.

Flying booty shorts, most likely.

...yeah, I did notice that latest upd8 playing with colors in a way the comic rarely even did, it was pretty nice.  Glad to see they appreciate it too.

...Yep, Karkat getting owned just for the sake of it, there.

First off, Jade’s outfit. It rules. Alt!Callie may have violently forced her consciousness inside of this innocent girl’s brain, but damn these threads are sweet. She’s managed to keep Jade pretty on brand, while throwing in a couple embellishments of her own. That’s what we call “making it work”. 

Yes, you’d better WELL fucking acknowledge what you’re doing by keeping Jade in a miserable isolated state for three years.  A G A I N.

Nice bit about the casual showing of Dave’s eyes as evidence that Dave’s recovering through some of his old mental blocks.

Dave and Karkat are wearing each other’s shirts, which is traditionally a very gay thing to do. Even more notably perhaps is the fact that Karkat is wearing crimson without a hint of complaint. Again, I doubt this was an intentional move on his part. Just, sometimes you’re coming out of the shower, it’s chilly, and your boyfriend’s shirt fits. Busting through mental blocks should typically come across as whispers to me, rather than shouts. 

--Hm, never considered the latter angle.

Karkat is being pretty mean to Possessed Jade. Which sucks, but this situation is incredibly stressful, and Karkat tends to react to stress by being mean. Treating Jade like an irritant allows him to put some distance between himself and the reality that he may have lost another friend. 

Guh.  That one stung  :(

Initially the panel directions here were “everybody pauses to contemplate Dirk fucking Strider” 

Mhmm, and you figured it’d be more unsettling to reverse it and remind us that the Prince is aware of all of this too.

Roxy’s heart-shaped sunglasses have become such a thing in the fandom that I kind of can’t imagine him without them at this point, so we decided to make it settled law. 

Mhmm, I figured that was how they played it.  One of the ways they’re incorporating fandom involvement.

Sometimes I feel like it should be Xam who does these commentaries, since there’s so much incredible shit going on with the art here that I’m really only equipped to comment on with shit like “oh wow, look at these colors. Green and purple huh. Wild. There’s also some light.” 

It’s pretty understandable to have the writers take the lead on most commentary as opposed to the artists... normally.

But then you’d have the weird places where they’d have to work together without necessarily giving away their game.  Like, all that WV/PM Breath/Blood visual representation I mentioned.

I still don’t know if they’re gonna give away the game on that eventually -- or if Andrew even gave them enough to go on to properly REPLICATE that sort of thing in this official continuation, even though my mind keeps telling me it’d make all sense to -- but if they are thinking about it, I doubt they’ll first show their hand in the commentary.

I love Kanaya’s new outfit.

I understand that sure, but will she be sticking with this outfit through the action though?  Looking like a mourning nun?

Kanaya’s nursery story is, of course, The Little Prince, a French fairytale from the 1940’s. It tells the story, rather appropriately, of a young Prince traveling through space looking for something he believes he has lost.

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

I’m not sure why I keep thinking about this quote. Probably some shit that has to do with “themes” or something.

Hinting that once he’s beaten down and likely dying from this stupid exodus plan, at least some part of Dirk may finally realize that any fulfillment and purpose he was looking for with this megalomaniacal nonsense was left behind in the peaceful life he fucking ruined for everyone to do all this.  The Heart-blind bastard.

God, Dave is just losing family members left and right, isn’t he? Really makes you think. 

Gdi.  :(

“Maybe it was naive to think a bunch of twenty something trauma victims could run a society.”

There it is. That’s the whole Epilogue.

And Andrew just had to let us ruin our naivety.

Wow. There really are just a whole lot of feelings in this chapter, aren’t there? It’s very aptly named. And it’s also actually the first part of HS^2 that got drafted; at least the first part that actually made it into the final draft. I wrote it earlier in 2019 when we were still kicking around ideas of what an Epilogue follow-up would actually look like. 

Huh.  Yeah, I can imagine when writing all this it would make sense to write/use this chapter first, as a knee-jerk reaction.

I do really think Karkat would have been a great president. He would have hated it, but he would have been good at it. 

I’m glad the authors are in agreement with everyone else with a brain on this one.

Did you guys know that Karkat still feels immense survivor’s guilt for murderstuck?

Yes.  Yes we did.

(Some continued remarks about how Karkat’s self-loathing is like a singularity that draws all blame onto himself in his mind etc.)

Apparently there was a metal gear reference in this second-to-last conversation?  Don’t tell me, I don’t care.

Eat the fucking pancakes, dude. 

A good place to end the commentary.  See y’all when there’s more content!

#Homestuck #hs2 #upd8 #Homestuck Liveblog #Homestuck Commentary #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots

[prettylittleliarsxxxx]

my two cents

I’m really disappointed that there seems to be a general consensus (mostly by journalists and the cast/crew) that we’re not ‘allowed’ to be unimpressed with the finale. And I am speaking mostly to Troian’s quotes here. I love the woman but I think that’s an unfortunately really narrow way to look at fandom and the array of different emotions we all have. And we’re all upset for different reasons and to lump it all in with the same people who were sending her death threats about SpaIeb is really shitty. 

I can be upset by a result and not send death threats. The majority of us can. 

First, not everybody was in it for the same things. A lot of us were in it for the mystery. We were there to look at every single clue. We were there when they all said “everything is a clue in Rosewood” and took it to heart and wasted spent seven years theorizing, there were even Twincer theories that linked back to the earlier seasons! A lot of us were in it for the friendships and for the feminist undertones or the wlw rep which in the end left a lot to be desired. A lot of us were in it for the ships and romance. A lot of us were in it for more than one of those things, but a lot of us also weren’t and that’s not a bad thing.

The idea she’s pushing is that if you didn’t like the mystery, then look at the ships because yay endgame! But what happens when the mystery was unsatisfying, and you don’t care about the ships? What happens when the girls spent most of the time not together in the finale?

I don’t think it’s her fault for saying these things, I don’t think you can possibly understand fandom unless you’re in fandom and it’s very clear that’s never been something she’s been interested in and that’s fine. 

But this idea that we all wanted the same things is really just a sad view of fandom. I agree, not everybody was going to be happy. That’s going to happen in any show no matter what. But this whole narrative about how we should only care about the work that they put in and the time they invested is hypocritical at best. Like, sure, I concede the writers did probably try to make us as happy as possible, but when you’re only listening to a select few people on twitter who kiss your ass 24 hours a day, that’s not really fair and is really just the beginning of a deeper fan-service fandom issue.

And to that, I also say, what about the time fans invested? For years, we were told that “that night” was important, and we held on to that, only to have it mean nothing.  There were so many things that kept us holding on to the end because we thought we were going to get a a seven year reveal. Something that, after seven years, would knock us on our asses. Something that connected back to “that night”, to Alison, to the barn, to any of the original lore of the show. They kept that going because that was the only way to keep people holding on after Charlotte, and that does become a manipulation at some point. 

The complete lack of acknowledgment for a huge part of this fandom is really disheartening. I mean, take the classroom scene. They hyped that scene up for two years. People literally spent two years theorizing about something that in the end meant nothing, that they had no idea what they were going to do with. Somewhere along the way, the ships were the only thing that mattered. They sacrificed everything else for the ships, not realizing that some of us didn’t care about them. Having ships is fine, loving them is fine, but it took over the show, and I think, in many ways, the ships are what sunk the show. 

As fans, we’ve also invested a lot of time into this. A lot of us invested money into it. And without us, this show wouldn’t have gotten 7 seasons, so I think it’s kind of sucky that as fans, we’re being told that we’re not allowed to be upset if we were unsatisfied by the finale. 

#admin stuff #just a rambling rant I suppose

[roh-tae]

Headlines pt. IV

part III

length: 1,357 words

genre: a mix; rapper jimin au

“Those go up by the stage, and make sure the bar is ready. The party starts in an hour people and Jimin will be here in less than twenty minutes! Things have to be perfect.”

You took a deep breath, doing your best not to freak out as tonight was the night you had been working for these last few weeks. The venue looked great, but so many last minute details needed to be taken care of and you were feeling the pressure.

“Y/n, Jimin is here.” 

You were sure your heart skipped a beat as you got the word. Heading to the back, you met Jimin and his crew at the door. “Wow, y/n, you look great. I see V made some good picks for you.” Jimin smirked as he walked past you, the others giving you a smile as well. You hurried to catch up to Jimin and give him a quick run through of everything.

“So, obviously the bar. Fully stocked, ready to go. The stage, this was the set up we previously talked about.” Jimin looked over the stage, not seeming unimpressed, but also not enthused.

“But if you don’t like it, we can certainly change it around.” Jimin laughed as he took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Y/n, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

He headed backstage to get ready for his opening performance as guests started arriving. Most of them other big name artists, some Jimin’s close friends. A few producers, music video directors, and some other moguls Jimin might look into working with.

“Hey, relax. Things will be fine.” V nudged you as he flashed a smile. “I know, I just. My job is riding on this, and I promise Jimin this would make him a big name in the industry again. I can’t fail tonight.”

V rolled his eyes, taking your hand as he pulled you over to the bar. He raised up to fingers to the bartender, who quickly filled two shot glasses and set them in front of you two. “Here, drink this. It’ll, loosen you up.” You stared at him a bit unsure while he tossed his back. “Oh come on, Jimin does this stuff all the time to calm his nerves. It’s not like he’ll yell at you for drinking on the job.”

Figuring one shot wouldn’t do any harm, you tossed the liquid back. Wincing at the slight burn in your throat. “Ok, I gotta go. Time for the show.”

Knocking on Jimin’s dressing room door, you waited until he opened it. Looking him up and down once he did, almost speechless as he looked great. He was in tight ripped light wash jeans and white shirt paired with a white jacket. Tying it together with some chains, sunglasses, a hat, and his typical Timberland boots.

“What? Does it look bad? I incorporated some of the Puma clothing, since there are reps here. I can change it if I need too.” You shook your head, protesting quickly, making him relax. “No, you look, great. Honest. And um, it’s time for you to go out there.”

“Let’s do this.” Jimin winked before heading past you and out onto the stage. You waited until you heard the first few beats of the title track start to play, then you walked out to watch among the crowd.

He was doing well, and the crowd seemed o like his new stuff. After the first song, Jimin began to speak about the new album. Thanking everyone who helped him.

“And, I lastly want to thank someone who. I was kind of an ass to at first,. But, I really need to thank her because, she’s responsible for all of this stuff.” You chuckled to yourself as Jimin just smiled on the stage. “So, y/n. Thank you, I mean it.”

Jimin performed only a few more songs, then a DJ took over. Letting Jimin mingle with people among the crowd, and do his best to promote himself and his album.

Sitting back by the bar, you could finally relax as the hard part of the night was over. Jimin’s performance went fine, and things were seeming to go great with him and the guests. Despite some of them not being close with him or really knowing why they were attending, they now seemed to be enjoying themselves.

“Y/n?”

An unfamiliar man appeared in front of you, sitting down an ordering a drink before introducing himself.

“Sorry, I’m Hoseok. Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand, not remembering his name from the guest list. “You too.”

“I wanted to compliment you on this party. It went, really well. And, you seem to be working better with Jimin than any of his past assistants.”

“Better?” You looked at him confused, then glancing over to Jimin as he was clinking glasses in cheers with some of his friends.

“Yeah, well. I’m sure you knew that this was a big night for him. And this new album is also pretty big. Jimin needs to have a big comeback after some of the stuff that’s happened with him in the past. Surely you know about all that?”

By the look on your face he could tell you had no clue. Hoseok laughed a bit as he continued. “Well, he has a bit of a reputation for being a bad boy. Getting drunk, starting fights. That’s why people don’t want to work with him. I’m surprised you even got half these people to show up tonight. My advice, maybe you should do some research on who you’re working with.”

Hoseok didn’t strike you as someone who Jimin would associate with. His demeanor, the way he spoke. It didn’t sit well with you. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go congratulate the man of the night.” With a smirk he downed the last of his drink, standing up and making his way toward Jimin.

“Hoseok, wait.”

You quickly rushed over, stepping in front of him. Trying to stop him, fearing that his intentions weren’t true. And wanting to do something about it before Jimin would notice he was here.

“I’m sorry, but. I just, I don’t think I actually remember you being on the list for tonight. And, this party was invitation only. If you could, just, please see yourself out. This is Jimin’s big night, and I don’t want anything to ruin that.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Too late. You looked to see Jimin standing next to you, along with V and some of the others in Jimin’s crew. Immediately you could smell the alcohol on Jimin, and you knew things wouldn’t end well if he was drunk.

“Just came to say congrats, wanted to see who would actually show up after your last big night out.” Hoseok laughed as Jimin tensed up. His fists clenched, only making you more nervous.

“Oh yeah, surprised you even remember that night. I thought I clocked you hard enough you wouldn’t even remember your own name.” Jimin smirked, only irritating Hoseok. Making him ball his hands into fists, the two of them coming closer to one another. Jimin’s crew stepping up to stop things from coming to a head. 

“Jimin, stop. Now is not the time.”

You whispered in his ear as you grabbed his arm. Trying to pull him away, but he wouldn’t budge. “Jimin!” Grabbing his face and turning him towards you, you made him look at you and listen. “I said let’s go. I’m not letting you ruin tonight.”

Taking him by the hand, you quickly ushered him through the crowd. Hoping no one noticed the scene between him and Hoseok. Once outside, you had Jimin call his driver and tell him to pull the car around. Then you texted V, telling him that you were taking Jimin home and asking if he could take care of things at the venue.

Before you could even question Jimin about the interaction with Hoseok, he was already asleep next to you in the car.

“Park Jimin,” you sighed as you looked at his sleeping frame then out the window. “what have I gotten myself into.”

#bts #bts scenario #bts jimin #park jimin #park jimin scenario #jimin scenario #bantan boys #bangtan boys scenario

[starringemiliaclarke]

For Emilia Clarke, Ending Game of Thrones Was "the Metaphorical Undoing of the Bra"

Even the Mother of Dragons gets sick. A slightly congested Emilia Clarke mentions she’s getting over the flu as we talk on the phone days after the Academy Awards. Apparently, going to the Oscars and hitting up Beyonce’s private after party didn’t help with her recovery. (“I basically cried at her,” she gushes over the experience.) But what’s one night of feeling ill on the red carpet when you’ve spent months filming battle scenes in wintery Northern Ireland in the most grueling conditions? If Khaleesi could make it to Winterfell alive, then Clarke could survive the climax of awards season with the flu.

Throughout Clarke’s nearly decade-long tenure as queen Daenerys Targaryen on Game of Thrones, we’ve seen her walk through fire unburnt, devour a horse heart, and fly on the back of dragons. But in the fantasy juggernaut’s eighth and final season, which premieres April 14, Dany will find herself in completely new territory: at Winterfell with the Starks, on the brink of a war against the undead.

“She starts feeling pretty cocksure and confident, and then stuff happens,” Clarke tells BAZAAR.com of Dany’s arrival North and her first encounter with Sansa Stark (Sophie Turner), which HBO teased in early promos.

Clarke’s casting as the platinum-haired heir to the Iron Throne was first announced in 2010. She’s grown a lot since then; Season 1 Emilia and Season 8 Emilia are “two incredibly different women,” Clarke says.

As she moves on from the Thrones world, she already has other projects lined up, like the holiday rom-com Last Christmas (co-written by Emma Thompson) opposite Henry Golding. She previously hit the big screen in 2018’s Solo: A Star Wars Story, 2016’s Me Before You, and 2014’s Terminator Genisys. Clarke also landed a covetable role in the beauty sphere, as the face of Dolce & Gabbana’s The Only One fragrance, available now. In the ads, she’s a charming Italian chanteuse who breaks into song over dinner in Rome—a far cry from Khaleesi.

But nothing can compare to her experience on GoT, for better or worse. “Game of Thrones is probably the hardest shooting I’ll do, because it is so physical and you’re in a corset!” she emphasizes. “You’ve got the physical places of where you are, the weather is so extreme, and the hours are really long and there’s so much tension in each character towards the end. There’s so much tension in the room, and you’re concentrating so hard. It’s strenuous.”

After a long day on set, Clarke’s self-care routine ends with the ultimate release: “Taking off your goddamn bra and getting into your pajamas.” She’s also religious about removing her makeup (“You’ve put a lot on by the end of the day”), then cleansing and moisturizing every night. And once she’s in her PJs with a hot water bottle, it’s over for y’all.

Clarke’s journey on Game of Thrones culminated in a similar conclusion. “I think ending it was just the mother of all releases,” she says over the phone. “It was just the metaphorical undoing of the bra, except it’s like a 10-year experience.”

Here, Clarke tells BAZAAR.com about repping Dolce & Gabbana’s new scent, saying goodbye to Khaleesi, and promoting gender equality.

You’re the face of Dolce & Gabbana’s The Only One fragrance. What’s your experience with the scent like?

You know how you can get those fragrances that are really heavy and thick and kind of musty? That is not this at all. It’s very light, it’s very fresh, but also has quite a sexy undertone. When I was a kid, I remember me and my friends used to go out and spray boys’ perfume on ourselves ‘cause we thought it smelled so great. Obviously you’re attracted to it, your hormones are going crazy. But it’s got that bergamotty undertone that’s very sensual to smell whilst having this kind of light upper tone that’s very fresh and clean.

How does fragrance fit into your daily routine?

I have the whole ritual of: Get out of the shower, fully moisturize, and then spray on something lovely and you feel as fresh as possible. You feel like you’ve added a bit of yourself to yourself. You know when someone’s like, “Oh my God, I smelled you the other day on the tube?” I like that. I like having a specific fragrance that people know is yours.

On the topic of beauty, you’ve taken your hair back and forth from your original brunette to bleach blonde for Game of Thrones‘ last season, and now you’re back to brunette with a sleek bob. Tell me about your hair transformations in the past year.

I went blonde and I was so excited about it. I was just like, “Yes! Fresh start.” With peroxide blonde hair, you literally need no accessories; you’re walking around with a permanent accessory on your head. That was really fun while it lasted, but my hair dyed to death during that process, then after a while I think I exhausted the look for as much as I can. Going back to brunette, when I first did it, I must’ve looked in the mirror and was like, “This girl? I walked away from this girl. She’s a different person from who I am now.” But now, my hair feels so much better for being brunette and it’s a bit more me, but a me that I’m much happier with than when I was brunette before.

How do you keep your hair healthy while it’s colored?

Literally, don’t put crap in your hair. I feel like there’s so many options for moisturizers and conditioners and hair masks and all of that stuff, but really, don’t put a lot of crap in your hair and try not to curl it or straighten it too much. Just let it be.

What was it like filming your last scene on Game of Thrones? Was it immediate tears or champagne and celebration?

I started to do a little speech, not because I’m a pretentious actor, but because every time we said goodbye to a character, David [Benioff] and Dan [Weiss], the showrunners would give us a gift and the crew would be around and everyone would stop and you’d sort of say a few words and it was really beautiful. I mean, I got three words in before I just completely broke down. You just hold it in and you’re holding it in and you’re holding it in, and then I just burst into tears like a complete idiot.

Then we cracked open the champagne, but it was then that I realized that alcohol is a depressant! So it was less a celebratory champagne, it was more kind of like, [pretends to sob] “We did it! We got to the finish line!”

From the teasers, we’ve seen Sansa meeting Daenerys and Drogon flying over Winterfell, two juxtapositions we’ve never seen before. What was it like for you bringing Dany to this foreign new place and meeting the Starks for that opening scene?

It’s really surreal. I mean, you play into what it feels like for the character as well, because it’s new and it’s odd, and you’re coming into someone else’s turf and you’ve got a lot of actors that you know really well, who were like, “This is our home.” Then you come in and you’re like, “I know this only from the television; I’ve never been in this space here before in my life.”

But also I must admit for the character, I felt it. I felt with every one of those moments that obviously the show is packed to the gills with. I felt for her. I was like, “Yes! Here we are! We’re in, we’re speaking with Sansa, we are that much closer.” It felt great. Very, very exhilarating.

What was it like sharing a scene with Sophie Turner for the first time?

It was lovely. She’s a really good friend of mine, so it was very fun, it was very silly, it was very then like, “Oh! We’re doing this now, we’re having like an actor discussion,” as opposed to just me and Sophie. With all of those scenes meeting new people, it felt like every day was a little party.

Daenerys does wear a new outfit with red fur, which is really different from what she’s worn in previous seasons with metal plating or flowy dresses. What can you tell me about her outfits this season?

Michele Clapton, our unbelievably talented costume designer, really takes each character’s journey and reflects that in the clothing. Every single piece that I put on made sense for the scene that I was in, and made sense with the place that the character’s in at that time. There’s a real throughline for this particular season, there’s a real arc and I feel like fans, like hardcore fans, will clock what’s happening within the reflection of the clothing. There’s definitely a story to tell there.

It’s funny that you mention the fans because I feel like whatever bait you give them, they’ll find something, some clue, in it. What’s the craziest encounter with a fan you’ve ever had?

People ask me this and I wish I could be like, “This one time this guy gave me a horse and bent down on one knee and gave me a sword and took me away to his fucking theme park about dragons,” and it doesn’t happen. People just get very shy, very retiring, very sweet. It’s more kind of overwhelmed. I love it when people are like, “You’re a badass.” I love it when I get girls who are just like, “Yeah you can do it!” but I don’t get a lot of crazy from them. If I do, they keep it under wraps.

What’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned from being on the show?

You’re really good at remembering lines [laughs]. Oh heavens, I’ve learned how lucky I am to have the show. I’ve definitely learned how the people you work with can become such a family and such a support system, and to lean on them when needed because it’s a singularly unique trait that our show has had because you don’t normally get that much time with people. But more than anything, trusting myself and taking props for when it goes well, which I’m not very good at. Just tune out “shit.fm,” which is what I like to call the nonsense that your brain sometimes likes to tell you, and just try and relax and have fun.

In honor of Women’s History Month, I remember you wrote an essay on International Women’s Day in 2017 about growing up as a feminist with a very strong view of equality in the home and wanting that to be reflected in the world. Two years later, do you feel like the landscape has changed at all to reflect your view?

I think it’s gonna take an enormous effort and amounts of time for society to really embrace that fully, but I think we’re making all the moves in the right direction. I definitely think we’re pushing the needle a little bit every day and every little helps. If we can try and empower young girls and young boys to value the quality of their minds, to value the quality of human interaction, that will provide growth for you as a person. If we can try and shift focus away from purely aesthetics into something much more long-lasting and reliable that is our thoughts, our minds, our connections, our words, and our deeds, then I think we’re in great shape. But let’s hope.

For Emilia Clarke, Ending Game of Thrones Was “the Metaphorical Undoing of the Bra” was originally published on Enchanting Emilia Clarke | Est 2012

#emilia clarke #game of thrones #game of thrones cast #GOT cast #daenerys targaryen #me before you #terminator

[airadam]

Episode 118 : Dubbul Or Nothing (ft. Dubbul O)

"Burning it to the ground, from the ashes see what might rise..."

- Dubbul O

It's been a while, but with a reworked studio setup we welcome the second-ever guest to the show - the syllable-spraying Dubbul O! You'll certainly have heard him on here before, whether it's been with The Mouse Outfit, Voodoo Black, Mothership Connection, or one of his other projects. This month, he came through for a chat about his approach to MCing and with a bunch of tracks for us to hear (including an exclusive), which the selection for the episode is centered around. With it being March, we also include some Phife and Biggie in the mix, and it's Brooklyn's Finest who kicks things off...

Check out Dubbul O's Bandcamp, Twitter, and Spotify too! You can also buy his work on iTunes if that's your shop of choice, and find everything from him and the rest of the label at room2records.com.

Twitter : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

The Notorious B.I.G. : Playa Hater

Funnily enough, I know a lot of people hate this song, but for some reason it just tickles me! Biggie and Puffy give their armed robbery rewrite of an old Delfonics number on this album track from "Life After Death". B.I.G's love of old soul and a dark sense of humour combine for what is definitely a Marmite track from his catalogue!

$lowbeats. : Madness

Out of Guadalajara, Mexico, comes an artist whose name simply describes what s/he does! This booming, ominous beat comes from the "Burn Slow" beat tape, the only release from this producer, and fit in really nicely to allow us to keep a continuous groove going. 

dead prez : W-4

Double-time drums but with a counter of acoustic guitar and bass, stic crafts a great track on which dead prez lament the stress of the poor working life. For the non-US listeners, the W-4 form referenced is the form workers submit to their employers detailing their tax situation, which then tells them how much tax to withhold from pay. This track from the "RBG" LP is as relevant now as it ever was - in fact, in an era when mentions of the "working class" often implicitly ignore Black people, maybe more pertinent in the present day.

Voodoo Black : Gettin' Dum

The latest single from this Room 2 crew reps Manchester proudly - this month's guest leads off, then passes the ball to Sparkz, and finally Ellis Meade takes it all the way to the end. This track has the kind of pace and space that enables all the MCs to play around with their patterns; even without actually hearing the words, there's flavour in the flows. DJ Cutterz with the production on this one.

Swell ft. Shiloh Dynasty : I'm Sorry

Swell is an Australian producer who isn't even twenty years old yet but clearly has talent to keep an eye on, and Shiloh Dynasty is such a mysterious vocalist that I don't have the first clue which pronoun to use! At such a slow tempo, I don't know if "head nodder" is the right phrase to use, but I love this beat from the "There's Still Us" EP.

Dubbul O : Smoka-Motive

The title track from Dubbul O's most recent EP, with Mankub bringing some Yard flavour into proceedings, along with eerie strings, guitar, and vocal samples, a real low-tempo soup over which Dubbul O speed-races with his double-time flow.

Jake One : Eli

Heading back to the "#PrayerHandsEmoji" beat tape, which has been a great source of quality low-tempo instrumentals. Production fans should definitely grab this one.

Tobe Nwigwe : HËÂT RŌČK.

I first heard Tobe mentioned by Bomani Jones, and his gushing praise let me know that this was an MC I needed to check out - and I was not disappointed! Coming out of Houston, he's got a unique combination of flow and voice, and packs substance into his bars while being absolutely crystal-clear the whole time. You owe it to yourself to check out the "The Originals" collection, and there are videos for many of the tracks on Youtube!

Voodoo Black : Run Along

Solid single from the start of last year, with the DJ Cutterz-produced beat cockily ambling down the street while the crew dismiss weak challengers with a wave of the hand. This track is just one example of Dubbul O killing the final verse in that Busta/Freddie Foxxx tradition of flawless clean-up men :)

Polyrhythm Addicts : Motion 2000

One of those classic independent records - very well known to those into the scene at the time, but one I have to remind myself isn't universally known even among dedicated heads. Polyrhythm Addicts was something of an underground supergroup, comprising DJ Spinna, Shabaam Sahdeeq, Mr Complex, and Apani B (later replaced by Tiye Phoenix), and their debut "Rhyme Related" featured this Spinna-produced single. That bassline is immediately distinctive, and with just the drums added to it (and a little guitar in the hook), there's plenty of space for all the MCs to get busy.

Bronx Slang : Married To The Game

Jerry Beeks is a friend and big supporter of what I'm doing over here, and the feeling is mutual. It's great to see the release of the new "Bronx Slang" LP, where he and Ollie Miggs show over the twelve tracks that contrary to popular opinion, real Hip-Hop never went anywhere! Beeks kills the mic over this piano-driven beat, and needs no hook to pull you in.

Dubbul O freestyle / [J-Zone] : As It Ever Was (Instrumental)

Dubbul O was up for giving us some lyrics from his rhyme book that haven't been heard before, and so we went through some instrumentals - didn't get far before he picked this one out. This is just raw MC business, straight through with no edits, no punching-in, exactly how it should be done.

The Quarter Inch Kings : I'm No Comeback

Decided to slide another instrumental in here, and went to The Beat Tape Project's "The AZ Beat Tape" for this track from a Toronto-based production unit who bring a soulful vibe. Got to love the humming woman sample that would have fit right in around 1996 - right around the time AZ's debut LP came out!

Dubbul O : Mussbemental

Vintage double-time syllable distribution here from Dubbul O on another Mankub-produced tune from "Smoka-Motive"! Dubbul O has talked about how he tries to become another instrument on the track, and he jumps all over the place like a jazz saxophonist on a solo here.

Natural Elements : For The Culture

Natural Elements are back with another three-song selection in their #DeathComesIn3s series, the "3 Kings" EP, and this was the tune that jumped out for me on the first listen. Great bars as always with this crew, and GxBxT provides the beat.

Pitch 92 ft. The Four Owls and DJ Jazz T : Swoop

I've been following Pitch from his first days and he's one of those people where the talent was immediately evident. His skills were a huge contribution to The Mouse Outfit during his time with them, and now we have his first full producer solo album to hear his latest work. The "3rd Culture" LP is one of those producer-helmed projects with a host of artists coming in to help realise the vision, and there are plenty of heavyweights - on this track, the respected High Focus crew The Four Owls and battle champion DJ Jazz T on the cuts. For the bargain price being charged on Bandcamp, this is a no-brainer purchase!

Phife Dawg ft. Rodney Hampton : Game Day

The "NFL Jams" compilation was, in 90s soundtrack-era weird idea style, a combination of NFL players and established Hip-Hop performers on each track on the album. Results were...mixed. The late great Phife Dawg certainly holds down his end of the deal on this early Jay Dee-produced cut, but Rodney Hampton really just gets credit for trying! 

Damu The Fudgemunk : Randi

Just some good drums, bass, and piano, arranged in the MPC2000 of Damu on his "Spare Time" album. I don't have any deep knowledge on this one, but it's one to enjoy for what it is!

Dubbul O : Step Into The Circle

An exclusive to close out the show! Dubbul O brought this track for a first airing, previewing the EP he's got coming later this year with Clay of Room 2 Records. Dubbul O's flow is as laid-back as it goes, matching the vibe of Clay's clean and breezy, crisply-drummed track.

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

  Check out this episode!

[flauntpage]

A Weekend of Winning – Observations from the Kings and Bucks Victories

The Sixers now own road wins over the 52-18 Milwaukee Bucks and 47-21 Golden State Warriors, which is pretty damn good.

Fantastic victory Sunday afternoon, and one they really needed. They didn’t need just any old win, since they’ve now ripped off four straight, but what they needed was a statement win, a solid W against a top-four Eastern Conference squad to build confidence and show the greater NBA community that maybe this team does have what it takes to get out of round two. This win was good for the mental health of Philly sports fans, writers, radio hosts, and their spouses. It will give us two days of a natural high until Boston comes to town Wednesday night with the Sixers returning home on the second night of a back-to-back.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Let’s talk about the pair of weekend wins, which I’ve wrapped into one Monday morning post, honestly because I was exhausted on Saturday morning and needed to recharge the batteries.

I re-watched the final eight minutes of the Bucks game this morning, and this is what jumped out to me:

I liked Brett Brown’s timeout around the eight minute mark, which paused and essentially reset the game when the Sixers failed to snag a couple of loose balls after bricking one three pointer off the side of the backboard and air balling another.

Joel did take too many three-pointers, and the one that stood out to me was when Giannis tried a three around the 7 minute mark and he followed suit with his own attempt on the other end. After that miss, on the very next possession, he went to the rack for a spin move, and-1, to extend the lead back to nine. He dialed it back when it mattered, and then went back to the arc for the clutch shot near the end of the game.

Incredibly difficult stuff was going down for Jimmy Butler. A step back 22-footer? Driving straight into Giannis? That’s elite, high-level execution.

I also liked Brett’s timeout at the 4:28 mark, when Pat Connaughton answered Butler three with a three of his own. That was another “let’s kill off momentum and manage the game” type of timeout.

Most of what the Sixers were running down the stretch was simple pick and roll and some half court iso. They didn’t go to their typical elbow or ’12’ sets, not that I saw. They did go to a horns set where Ben was blocked off before getting to the rim, resulting in a Jimmy Butler 12 footer that was missed. They ran it again, this time with the elbow curl, around the 1:15 mark.

Sloppy turnover with Joel looking for JJ backdoor when the offense turned into a two-man set around the 2:30 mark. That was the only poor possession they had down the stretch.

The Embiid ball-fake and drawn foul was ridiculous and totally killed off Milwaukee momentum after a pair of Khris Middleton threes.

After Giannis dunked all over Simmons and called him a “fucking baby,” Simmons stuffed a putback dunk in his face. What an outrageous sequence that was. I’m really happy the refs kept the whistles silent and didn’t go for any technicals there. Let grown men play a grown man sport.

I originally had no clue what was going on with the pair of timeouts under two minutes, because the broadcast just sat on this camera shot of the Sixers’ bench for 10 seconds. I’m not sure the broadcast crew realized that Philly used a second timeout to advance the ball, which I guess was a smart move considering the fact that they couldn’t make it past half court on the most recent play. In that case, you forfeit that second timeout later to help yourself now.

Just a random asterisk type of note here, but Malcolm Brogdon is a good defender and his absence does make a difference out there.

I highly doubt that Milwaukee shoots 16-50 from three again. Nikola Mirotic probably isn’t chucking up another 0-6 night anytime soon.

More than anything, Joel Embiid just came to play. He looked energetic, dialed in, and up to the challenge. Similarly, he really stepped it up in a big way with two big blocks to close out the Sacramento game, which was closer than I thought it would be, considering the Kings were on the second night of a back-to-back, having played in Boston on Thursday night.

And Jimmy Butler looked as good as he has since coming to Philadelphia. When he wants to attack and is totally engaged on the offensive end, he’s as good a closer as the Sixers have had in more than a decade.

Defending Giannis

Very interesting to watch Giannis play, isn’t it? He’s so similar to Ben Simmons in how he attacks the basket but doesn’t shoot the ball all that well, though he’s probably a year or two ahead of Ben on the same exact bell curve of growth.

Giannis is a 25% three-pointer shooter this year and hits at 27.6% for his career. He hit 3-8 yesterday, which really is very good for him, but also honestly fine if I’m coaching the opposition. If he’s out on the perimeter he’s not lowering that shoulder, getting to the rim, and drawing fouls.

Still, modern day analytics types would LOVE this shot chart:

No midrange junk at all. Just high-efficiency, foul-drawing stuff around the rim complemented with three-point shooting. The guy is the MVP, so you gotta pick your poison, and I’m taking my chances with eight three-point attempts instead of putting a 74% free-throw shooter on the line with drive after drive after drive.

Embiid and Simmons were the most effective Giannis defenders Sunday, with Joel the only Sixer to keep him under 50% from the floor while guarding him.

Here’s how everybody fared vs. Antetokounmpo:

Giannis drew 6 of his 9 shooting fouls against Sixers not named Embiid, while the other three came in 45 matchups against Joel. You also see Giannis was 5-5 from the floor when not guarded by Ben or Joel.

He said this after the game, via ESPN:

“It’s easy,” Antetokounmpo said. “I would rather Ben guard me than Joel. It’s simple. If Joel’s been guarding me all night and he’s been making everything so tough on you, when someone switches on you — Jimmy [Butler] or Ben or [Mike] Scott or [Boban] Marjanovic — it’s way easier.”

The Greek Freak will be in town in a few weeks so we’ll get to see him up close and personal and build off what we learned Sunday.

Tweaking the rotation

On Friday night you saw Brett Brown change Ben Simmons’ substitution pattern, which resulted in a grouping of Butler, Boban, and Tobias Harris staying on the floor together while Joel and Ben’s minutes were linked. In previous games, we had seen Ben playing with the former group instead of Butler as Brown did some experimenting following the February trade deadline.

I like that aforementioned trio because Jimmy Butler is a pick and roll and isolation player, while Harris is similar and has known and played with Boban forever. Joel and Ben are familiar with each other’s skill sets and have played two seasons together now in Brett’s motion offense. On paper, it makes sense.

The only thing about linking Ben and Joel together was that the Sixers didn’t have anybody to defend Giannis when they were off the floor. Mike Scott did the best he could, but when the two teams play again soon, Brett might have to take another look at that, because Boban isn’t gonna be able to do it. On the flip side, it’s like a game of coaching chicken – does Budenholzer leave Giannis in the game to chase that favorable matchup? He can’t play the entire game, and at some point he’s gonna be squaring up with Embiid again on both ends of the floor.

You also have to consider that this can leave you with T.J. McConnell and JJ Redick pairings, which stresses your back court defensively. That’s another wrinkle to think about.

Still, mostly positive stuff here. Over at NBA.com, that Jimmy/Tobias/Boban trio has played 92 minutes together with a 12.5 net rating, which is fantastic, though some of that of course includes minutes played with Redick and Simmons while Embiid was injured. However, if you have nights down the stretch where you can get away with Embiid and Simmons sitting at the same time, this lineup has seemed to work pretty well in admittedly limited minutes over the last few games.

Boban

Boban’s strengths and weaknesses were both on display this weekend.

Weaknesses: lateral movement, defending in space

Strengths: height, underrated skill set

First, the strengths. I have this belief that Boban’s passing and vision is a little underrated, and that some of his game gets overlooked simply because we’re incredibly distracted by how tall he is and how he makes some plays look absolutely ridiculous.

I asked Brett Brown and Tobias Harris about this on Friday night, i.e., do we undervalue Boban’s wider skill set because of his humongous size?

Brett:

I remember about two weeks ago, I saw these guys play 1v1, it was Ben and Jimmy and 7’4″ Boban. He is skilled. He can pass out of the post, he’s got up-and-unders, he’s got right hand, left hand and he can make a free-throw. If that’s your point, that he’s so big that you miss the point that he’s good in other areas, I completely agree with you. He’s been a sensational pickup.

Tobias:

I think (it’s) because guys really haven’t seen him that much, this year, just in spurts, but he has more to his game. We were trying to get him to shoot a three (Friday night). There’s more parts to his game that he has, that he hasn’t brought out yet. At his size he’s very strong, too. He’s not an easy guy to just move around. I believe half the time he’s getting fouled more than what’s being called for him with his size, but I think he’ll get more calls with more reps.

It’s absurd some of the things that he makes look really childish just by virtue of how big he is:

It’s absurd how big Boban is pic.twitter.com/4po5efhm7S

— Shane Young (@YoungNBA) March 16, 2019

I just wonder how effective he’s going to be in the playoffs. You can’t play him against Giannis and Al Horford is too stretchy and slippery to chase around. After the first round, where you’ll draw Andre Drummond or Jarrett Allen, we’ll have to see if any further matchups make sense for him, because I think he’s a skilled guy beyond just being large. You have to pick your spots with Boban in your lineup, because he’s a unique guy with unique strengths and unique weaknesses.

Other notes:

Light boos for Nemanja Bjelica Friday night, who agreed to a deal with the Sixers in the summer before reneging and deciding to ultimate go to Sacramento.

Nice cheers for ex-Sixer Corey Brewer, who was wearing fantastic glasses tucked into his headband.

The in-game interview must be fired into the sun. Seriously. Brett Brown and Mike Budenholzer speak before the game AND after the game. They don’t need to speak to the sideline reporter after the first quarter or third quarter. Get rid of it forever.

T.J. had some moments in the Bucks game where he looked like a liability out there. The foul on Giannis to end the 1st quarter was such an atypical play for him.

JJ shot the ball well in both games. Looks like he’s snapped out of the funk he was in. The Sixers are so much better when he’s hitting, especially early, which helps them get into an offensive rhythm.

No turnover issues this weekend, just 10 against Sacramento and 13 against Milwaukee. That average (11.5) would make the Sixers #1 in the league.

I’ll leave you with the Giannis/Ben posters from earlier. I have to admit, when you do this for a living, there isn’t a lot that draws a reaction from you, but I audibly gasped twice while watching these two plays live, then did it again while watching on tape:

10 seconds later, Simmons tip slams on Giannis’ head and primal screams in his grill let’s go pic.twitter.com/fv9rhP4Bn9

— Rob Perez (@WorldWideWob) March 17, 2019

Happy Monday.

The post A Weekend of Winning – Observations from the Kings and Bucks Victories appeared first on Crossing Broad.

A Weekend of Winning – Observations from the Kings and Bucks Victories published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

[airadam]

Episode 114 : Enter The Midnight

"...we fighting back - sorry Martin."

- Erick Sermon

This month marks twenty-five years (!) since the release of two monumental albums - "Midnight Marauders" by A Tribe Called Quest, and the Wu-Tang Clan's "Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)". I still remember going to buy each of these albums which have had a huge influence on me over the years, and I thought that this episode would be a good time to feature them both. We have a mix of original tracks, alternate versions, covers, and original samples, alongside plenty of other tunes to keep your head bobbing!

There are still a few tickets left for Schoolly D and DJ Code Money on December 15th in Manchester - but you might want to be quick!

The Mouse Outfit are playing an Xmas special at Band on the Wall on December 18th - a few advance tickets left for that one too.

See Children of Zeus on tour!

Twitter : @airadam13

Playlist/Notes

Minnie Riperton : Inside My Love

An excerpt of a soul classic from one of our departed greats. Minnie Riperton was well capable of singing well into the whistle register, and demonstrates that to spectacular effect at the end of this track from the essential "Adventures In Paradise" album, which I first encountered as part of "Lyrics To Go"...

A Tribe Called Quest : Lyrics To Go

This sample use was absolute genius. When I first heard this as a teenager I didn't have a clue that the high tone running through the whole track was actually a singer and not a keyboard, and it still stuns you the same way twenty-five years after release. Perfect production, together with Q-Tip and Phife (RIP) on the mic, make this album cut from "Midnight Marauders" every inch of a classic.

Funky DL : Midnight

London's Funky DL first came to popular notice as an MC, but clearly also has major skills as a producer, arranger, and keyboardist! His "Marauding At Midnight" album is a tribute to "Midnight Marauders", with instrumental versions of every track played with no sampled breaks/loops - just instrumentation, as well as backing vocals. "Midnight" was one of my low-key favourites on the original LP, so it's great to hear his take on it here. I couldn't resist the opportunity to cut a few samples over the top :)

Wu-Tang Clan : Clan In Da Front

On my first listen to "Enter The Wu-Tang", this was the track that made me know for sure that the album was a classic. The Wu members regularly battled to see who would get to be on any particular RZA beat, and you can hear for yourself how undeniable GZA was on this one - one of only two tracks on the album to feature just one MC.

The ARE : Clap Ya Hands

The "Manipulated Marauders" project is much older when I look at the release date (2007) than it feels, but still gets solid play from me on a regular basis. The ARE tears up the classic Bob James "Nautilus" sample amongst others to bring some freshness to the familiarity of the Tribe "Clap Ya Hands" track from "Midnight Marauders".

Rockwilder ft. Erick Sermon, Method Man, and Redman : Clutch Reloaded

I missed the original version of this track, but this remix is absolute fire! This might be the most aggro I've ever heard Erick Sermon, and I can't be the only one struck by the combination of "bunch a n****s walking down the block like it's Selma" and the lyric that gave us this month's epigraph. Following Erick, the match made in blunt smoke, Meth & Red, continues the lyrical assault, and Rockwilder's beat is a banger that reminds you of a classic sample atomised. A must-purchase!

Ice Cube : Arrest The President

The man who brought us "I Wanna Kill Sam" back in the 90s is back to burn and has absolutely no problem going in on Mango Mussolini! Atlanta's Shawn Ski provides a stomping, horn-laden beat while Cube calls out Agent Orange for being an asset of Russian intelligence, and his general devilish behaviour. This tune definitely puts you on notice for the upcoming "Everythang's Corrupt" album.

[DJ Quik] Nate Dogg ft. Eve : Get Up (Instrumental)

One of those singles I somehow picked up a couple of a while back and still barely play! The first single from Nate Dogg's third album, it's not crazy but does have that Quik flavour and the beat a good bridge between the bombast of the Cube track and something a little more subdued...

Public Enemy : See Something, Say Something

I was looking for something funky in this spot and this fit the bill perfectly. Chuck D is from the right kind of era to know what to do with a groove like this, and has the experience and intelligence to drop wisdom all over it. Gary G-Wiz is on production on this lyrically clever flip of the Department of Homeland Security slogan, an overlooked track from "How Do You Sell Soul To A Soulless People Who Lost Their Soul?"

El Michels Affair : C.R.E.A.M

Much harder to mix with than I thought, but that's often the case with live bands - tempos are much more likely to shift within the track than with electronically sequenced music! Anyway, this is just one of the many great Wu instrumental cover versions from El Michels Affair, who gave us this tribute to the 36 Chambers classic on "Enter The 37th Chamber". It's always interesting when a band is sampled by a Hip-Hop producer as part of a composition, and then another band interprets that new version.

A Tribe Called Quest & Busta Rhymes : God Lives Through

The original "God Lives Through" included the voice of Busta via a sample from Tribe's own "Oh My God" on the same album, but he wasn't actually on the track. As he says, he always wanted to rhyme on it and here he gets his chance! This version is from the Q-Tip and Busta mixtape "The Abstract and the Dragon", and here I've just gone with the Busta verse and then Phife's - which is the same as the original, hopefully you own it by now :)

Black Milk ft. Fat Ray and Elzhi : Sound Of The City

Detroit time! Black Milk covers the low end lovely with well-engineered kicks and bass driving this track along. The title track to his first solo LP is a worth headliner, and I always laugh at the shade thrown at Mike Jones at the end of the second verse!

Hall & Oates : Method Of Modern Love

A new one to me, but after reading recently that this was the song that inspired the hook to "Method Man", I took a listen and thought I'd play a snippet here. You hear the first eight bars looped up for a couple of minutes, then we let it go so you can hear the introduction of the chorus - then stop the track and merge into...

Wu-Tang Clan : Method Man (Home Grown Version)

...the tune that drew from it! This isn't even the version from "Enter The Wu-Tang", but an alternate version that was on the 12", and is even more raw and lo-fi than anything on the album. It sounds like it was recorded in a basement and probably was, and I'd bet that this was the original, later re-done for the LP. For the turntablist heads, this is the version Mista Sinista used for his killer juggle - solved a mystery for me!

Cypress Hill : How I Could Just Kill A Man

Classic Cypress! Back in the pre-internet days, some New Yorkers thought this crew were locals from the Cypress Hills housing project, but in fact they were from all the way over in Los Angeles. The first album is still my favourite after all these years, and this track was fierce - a hit without even an attempt to soften up for the radio. DJ Muggs layers up legendary breaks for the beat and even has a few bars on the mic at the start of the second verse, while B-Real spits memorable bars on the kill-or-be-killed lifestyle, and Sen Dog jumps in for the hook. Early 90s heat.

Slum Village (ft. Young RJ) : Nitro

Detroit in the mix again, with the 2009/10 lineup in full effect, along with family member Young RJ on the boards and rhyming as well. The beat actually has a lot of RZA feel to it, and I could easily have imagined this on one of the early Wu albums. No slacking on the mic either, everyone represents and make this a tune worth tracking down - I got it on the "Villa Manifesto" LP, but it's not on all versions so look out for that when buying.

Inspectah Deck : R.E.C. Room

I'd forgotten that it wasn't until six years after the release of "Enter The Wu-Tang" that we finally got a solo album from Inspectah Deck, but "Uncontrolled Substance" did eventually arrive - maybe it needed that incredible verse from the start of "Triumph" to create the momentum! I believe this was the lead single, a tribute to the rec room parties from the Wu's youthful days, with a characteristically Wu-Tang beat courtesy of True Master, who cooked up some great tracks over the years.

[DJ Premier] Gang Starr : Just To Get A Rep (Instrumental)

One of those tunes everyone either knows or really should! I think the 12" will have an instrumental on it, but this is taken from a white label instrumental version of the whole "Step In The Arena" LP.

Air Adam : 13th Chamber

I wondered if this was worth including, but if not now, then when? I recorded this maybe 10-15 years ago, and while some of the plain movie samples were just layered over the top from my DVD collection, everything else comes from the turntables! The bassline is a plain tone being modified with the 33/45 button and pitch slider, the drumming is all done with scratches, and then the kung-fu samples that were available on battle tool vinyl (no Serato back then!) were scratched over the top. This was my tribute to/version of Wu's "Wu-Tang : 7th Chamber - Part 2" from the first album, derived from a battle routine I once developed, and was on my "Sleight of Hand" mixtape - a few of you might still have it!

Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!

Check out this episode!