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certifiedskywalker · 3 years

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Another Memory - Kylo Ren

forthesakeofstarwars said: If you’re still taking requests, can I send one in for Kylo Ren, in which the reader is dating him and she’s sent out on a solo mission one day? She gets injured on the field and hides it from Kylo when she returns, but he finds out anyway. He was upset at first that she didn’t tell him about it but than he takes care of her and helps her wound to heal.

AN: Guess who got too carried away? Me, this guy, I did!

Magma burns. That’s what it felt like. Searing, beyond white-hot pain that shot through your lower abdomen with each aching step. You heard once of Mustafar, the lava rivers and lakes that dotted the scorched landscape like bright death traps. Within your stomach, you imagined a crater, akin to the magma pools of that dastardly planet, spewing concentrated bolts of flame towards the rest of your internal organs.

“Commander.”

Through a grimace, you dipped your head at the two lower ranking officers that acknowledged your presence with a salute. Unbeknownst to them, you were in near-debilitating pain with your right shoulder pressed against the wall of the ship’s hallway for balance. As they passed by, you stood up right and muscled through scream of hurt in your stomach.

“As you were,” you snapped back. They walked off with a little more speed than when they came upon you. You took a small bit of pride in their fear before pressing your shoulder back against the wall. Out of all of the First Order’s officials, you were the least frightening. The towering Captain Phasma and the biting voice of General Hux made even you, a being well trained in the darker arts of the Force, shake from time to time. And that was not even considering the short-fuse temper of Kylo Ren.

At the thought of him, you felt yourself weaken. A groan slipped out past your lips and you pressed yourself impossibly closer to the wall for support. If he saw you like this you would never live it down. Another wave of searing pain rushed through your abdomen, this time mingled with a twinge of shame. Eyes squeezed shut, you gritted your teeth and forced the stinging tears behind your eyes to stay there.

If only he had stayed. Stayed in your shared bed, tangled with you in sheets until the comm stopped blinking and whirring for his attention. How you wished he had ignored the device, the mission he was given, and stayed with his hands on you. But then your comm had started to blink, coaxing you out from under him and the messed sheets. You should have stayed instead of going to...you couldn’t even recall the name of the planet now.

Overwhelmed by the pain left behind by the blaster bolt that had charged through your gut, your brain worried itself with keeping you on your feet rather than the destination of your mission. Despite the battle scar and trip to the infirmary that danced in your near-future, you had been successful. The insurrection and rebels that had amassed against the Order had been dealt with. Though they had not gone down without a fight.

Seemingly triggered by the memory of battle, your wound screamed with a heat painful enough to pull the air from your lungs. With a gasp, your knees hit the cool, tile floor of the ship. Black spots dotted the edges of your vision as you fought to stay conscious. Focusing on deep breaths, you reached out to the Force for aid, for the power to push your body through the pain; a skill you had learned from Luke Skywalker so long ago.

You fell back on his old lessons only when the situation was dire. Passing out in the hallway, surrounded by inferior officers was truly dire.

“Commander?”

With an aimless, wandering hand, you pushed the concerned officer to the side.

“Leave me,” you hissed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm of breaths. The Force seemed to recoil from you as a fresh and overwhelming wave of pain cut through your abdomen. Your vision began to blur. “No, no, no.”

Murmurs from the officers and troopers around you muddled in your ears. Each comment or quip sank into a thick mud, unheard by you. Harsh and growing shallow, your breathing was the one sound you could hear clearly. A haphazard, unsteady beat of air down your throat and into your chest. Desperate to stay lucid, you closed your eyes and willed your body to stay aware. Get to your feet, your mind echoed the mantra, get to your feet.

You pushed up on your knees and, shaking slight, moved to stand. With a careful step forward, you opened your eyes. Bright lights installed in the ceiling shown in a staggering display. Darkness swept over your vision, but you weren’t sure if you shut your eyes or succumbed to the agonizing heat in your stomach. Your knees impacted the hard floor once more and, in a brief moment of audible clarity, you heard the gasps of those surrounding you.

Then you heard a deeper, familiar voice; one laced with worry. “Y/N?!”

Grey walls and bright lights enveloped you when you opened your eyes. Steady and mildly annoying, a beeping vitals monitor served as a reminder that you were alive. That, and the dull aching all over your body. Most of the lingering pain was concentrated in your abdomen and your knees. You didn’t dare to look at the mess whatever medical droid made of your wound; there would be a scar, no matter the make and model of machine.

“What happened?”

You let your head fall to the side, your gaze shifting from the unentertaining ceiling to your right. Sat beside you, masked in a shadow of his own creation, was Kylo Ren. The soulless visor of his helmet was fixed on your face. In any other position, the intensity of his hidden gaze would have set you aflame. Now, you felt only shame.

“Tell me.”

“The mission was a success,” you replied curtly, ignoring the truth he wanted.

“That’s not what I meant.” Coldness edged Kylo’s tone, mostly due to the modulator embedded in his helmet mouth piece. You hated how it changed his voice and, despite it’s mechanic alteration, how it was still so wonderfully familiar to you.

“The dissidents fought back,” you explained, “nothing I’m not used to.”

“You’re hurt.”

You can’t help but laugh at how plainly he makes the statement. “I hadn’t noticed.”

At your mocking tone, Kylo stands. You watch as he moves towards the entrance to your infirmary room and forces the door shut. The metal screeches against the floor until the two sliding doors meet in the metal. Kylo’s arm falls as he turns to face you once more.

A biting comment makes its way to the tip of your tongue. Just as you’re about to spit it out, Kylo moves again. He brings his hands up towards his helmet and you hear the telltale hiss of release as he lifts the metal from his head. The comment dies between you lips the moment you catch a glimpse of his skin. A breath of relief takes it place.

Without hesitation, and slight shame momentarily forgotten, you meet Kylo’s eyes. Dark, wavy strands of hair covered part of his face, nearly obscuring the med-tape covering the gnash the scavenger girl carved into his cheek. Against the uncomfortably thin sheet of your infirmary cot, your finger itched to traced the lines of his face, the curve of his jaw. The want became nearly unbearable when he moved to stand by your bedside once more.

“You should have come to me when you returned.” Without the modulator and helmet, Kylo’s deep voice was smoother. Akin to fine granules of sand running through your fingers rather than grating gravel. You felt comforted by the sound, even if he was chastising you.

“I thought you were still out on your own mission.”

“You couldn’t sense me? My presence on the ship?”

When you shook your head in reply, Kylo frowned. Disappointment flashed in his brown eyes but did not linger; nor did the downwards turn of his lips. Quickly, Kylo collected himself and plastered on that flat expression you assumed he wore often beneath the mask. He took a step closer to your bedside, resting his heavy helmet on the end near your feet.

“I could sense you,” he said lowly, “your pain. How you were thinking of me.” Heat rose to your cheeks, spreading to every inch of your skin. The warmth further dulled the ache in your abdomen. Your attention was fully focused on him now.

“Is that why you came to my rescue? You were a little late if you…” You trailed off as Kylo’s leather-gloved hand brushed against your cheek. A shaking breath rattled in your chest and you closed your eyes for a long moment to search after your words in the dark.

“I’ll never be late for you again,” he murmured when you opened your eyes again. Sincerity dripped from his tone, filled the dark depths of his eyes. His hand brushed against your hairline at you stared up at him, covered fingertips dancing down along your jaw. “Never again.”

“And I’ll find you the moment I return from missions.”

Kylo nodded and you saw the slightest up tilt in the left corner of his mouth. An almost smile. The same expression he would often give you when you came to him, ready to share a bed for the night. If you were lucky, you would get a half smile, large enough to bring out the lines in his face; the evidence you had that he could be happy.

“Good,” he replied, pulling his hand away.

You watched as he plucked the glove from his fingers, exposing the skin of his palm to you when he reached out. Picked up by the vitals monitor was the quickened pace of your heart as Kylo tugged the thin sheets tucked around you down from where they rested. Cool air kissed the skin of your nearly naked chest and then your bare abdomen. You wanted to recoil, hide from him despite knowing he had seen you far more exposed before.

His eyes held your gaze before you lost your nerve. Daringly, you glanced down at your abdomen and eyed the dark red, inflamed scar left behind by the blaster bolt. The medical droids had done well, better than the last time. There was still ample room for improvement. Displeased, you looked away, back up at Kylo.

“Another memory,” you mused bitterly, “though yours is far more handsome.”

Kylo let out an amused huff before studying your new scar. He leaned forward and let his bare fingertips traced the outer edges of the puckered mark. His touch did not hurt but the vitals monitor alerted you both to an uptick in heart rate again. In response to his fingers, your body tensed; wound itself tight like bacta-gauze around a bleeding limb. Enjoying the sight of your body reacting so precisely to his touch, you saw Kylo wore another almost smile.

“Do you want it gone?”

His question catches you off guard. Is he serious? When he moves his eyes from your wound to meet yours once more, you see that he is. The almost smile is dropped, his brows are relaxed, and he reads as unconcerned.

“Yes,” you say, more curious to see what he means than to actually have the scar removed. Kylo nods and moves his bare hands away from your abdomen, though just barely. Palm facing down towards your wound, Kylo’s hand hovers. A moment passses and there is nothing but the want to make a teasing comment.

Then you feel it. It, the Force, is warm as it licks at your wound. Licking is the only way you can describe the feeling though it is not wet. Only warm, comforting, and moving. You gasp and your eyes lift to study Kylo’s face. His eyes are closed, lashes fanned out against his cheeks as he focuses all his energy, the Force, on your scar.

You feel a shift in the air as he lifts his hand. When he opens his eyes, he does not meet your gaze but peer at the scar. Or where the scar was. A few inches above your hip, fresh, unharmed and unblemished skin was shown. It was as if you had never been struck at all. The dull pain that gripped your torso was relieved like a dark cloud being brushed from the sky.

Speechless, you barely react when Kylo leans further down. His hair falls around his face as he pressed his warm lips to the spot where the scar had been. The ends of his hair tickle your skin but you’re still too enthralled to twitch at the sensation. Kylo turns his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are knowing and his mouth quirks up into the slightest of half smiles.

“Beautiful.”

Falling from his lips, the word thrusts you back into another memory; this one not embodied or immortalized in a scar. You are back, caught in the morning before you mission, with your skin pressed against Kylo’s. Sheets are scattered around you and he is kissing your bare shoulder when he says it over and over again, punctuated by a new kiss each time.

“Beautiful.”

When he says it for a second time, you’re back in the present, in the infirmary. Kylo has straightened his posture and is reaching for his helmet now. You move, sit up in your cot and throw a hand out to his. Your fingers wrap around his wrist and gently squeeze.

The touch brings his eyes to yours. His mouth is open slightly, shallow breaths coming and going as he waits for you to say something. To say what he is thinking, wanting, too.

“Stay.”

Wordlessly, Kylo moves to meet you in the middle. Before you can react, his lips find yours and you are falling back against the cot. You are lost in him again and more than enjoying the feeling of it. When you feel his bare hand against the skin of your waist, you smile into the searing kiss. What another good memory this will make.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren imagines #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #tfa #tlj

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nerdypanda3126 · 3 years

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City of Love – Ch. 6

After Juleka teases him about 'his muse,' Luka confesses that he's written music about Marinette, and although she knows what he means when he says it, she has no idea how to respond.

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Luka went out and found Marinette in the same spot he’d left her, although now she had a sketchbook splayed across her lap and her head was bent over it.

“Hey,” Luka started, settling into place across from her. Her head snapped up and a bright red blush spread across her face.

“Hi.”

“Tikki said you wanted me to look at something?”

She hesitated before she passed her sketchbook over to him. When the pages settled into his hands, he ran a hand over her work, feeling the impressions her pencils had left. She was incredibly talented. She’d recreated his gas tank from a few different angles and redrawn her idea on each one. On top was a prominent bunch of flowers, blue in the center and tipped with white. Behind the flowers, she’d drawn a delicate fishnet lace that he had no idea how she planned to recreate in paint. Here and there, she’d drawn deliberate rips, and on the sides, there were swirls that followed the curves of the tank like she’d said before.

“What do you think?” she asked hesitantly.

“I… Marinette, this is…” He ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “This is… extraordinary.”

He popped his head back up to look at her and she was biting her lip, anxiously waiting for his appraisal. He lost all train of thought when her lip slipped out from between her teeth and she smiled. He handed the sketchbook back to her, still entirely lost for words.

On the ground next to her, her timer went off. Must be time for that last coat. She picked up the spray can and started shaking it, but he interrupted her.

“Do you think I could give it a try?” he asked, although it didn’t sound like his voice or feel like his words. He almost felt like he was outside of himself, watching as she shrugged and handed him the can of paint.

“It’s your bike,” she said casually.

The can was in his hand, and she hesitated before she untied the bandana from around her neck and offered it to him as well. His fingers trembled as he accepted it, although he hoped his face was doing something a little more normal. He cleared his throat and prayed that the next words out of his mouth were something clever.

“Um, yeah, so if I screw up, it’s no big deal, right?”

Nope, that wasn’t anywhere near clever. But she hid a giggle behind her hand and blushed before she shrugged to agree with him. He brought the bandana up around his face to hide what was probably a lovestruck, dopey grin.

He tried to take a deep, calming breath, which was when he realized that calming down at that current moment was impossible. The bandana smelled like whatever perfume she was wearing. Something light and floral with a citrusy background. Every breath he took in just intoxicated him more. He was getting lightheaded and he wasn’t even painting yet.

He glanced up and she was watching him curiously. Probably wondering why he hadn’t started. He gave the can a couple more shakes, then aimed it at the gas tank and prayed for steady hands.

When he’d finished, he handed the bandana back to her first, then the can of primer. The original dark blue paint that was underneath looked like it was frosted over. Marinette set her timer again. And again it was just the two of them. And again he could think of nothing to say to this amazing woman, only this time it was exacerbated by having her scent still lingering on and around him. He cleared his throat again, but no words came out.

This was going to be a long few hours.

***

Marinette had no clue what happened between when Luka went inside and when he came back out, but suddenly he was completely tongue-tied. He could barely look at her without raking his hair over his ears and he was smiling like he didn’t know how to stop. They took turns adding the base coat, and she had a shiny black surface to work on by the time they were done, but both times she’d handed him her bandana, he’d looked at her like she was handing him some priceless artifact.

She bent her head to her work with Tikki’s lecture ringing in her ears. He didn’t seem to mind her lack of conversation. At one point he must’ve ducked back inside to grab his guitar again because she vaguely registered the music.

Tikki hadn’t been a fan of her idea to do nothing about her attraction to Luka. She’d urged Marinette to go after him, to tell him how she felt, to make some sort of move, and when Marinette had steadily refused, Tikki had actually raised her voice to tell Marinette she thought she was being stubborn and that Luka deserved to know.

Maybe Tikki was right. She should probably at least tell him that she liked him, or ask to see him again in a more official setting. Not trying at all felt so counterintuitive. But she really wanted to know what this was between them. To do the smart thing for once and wait before throwing herself into the deep end of a new relationship. So instead of thinking about his kind smile or his soft eyes or his slender fingers, she focused on steadying her hands to paint the delicate lines of the lace and the outlines of the flowers.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” he asked after a while, breaking her out of her concentration.

She took a breath and pulled her brush away carefully before blinking out of her trance and looking up at him. He’d set his guitar aside again and had a notebook lying open beside him with a pen, his headphones, and his phone strewn out on top of it to keep his place. He’d been writing, then? She hadn’t even noticed. She nodded before she stood and stretched, surprised at how much light had disappeared while she’d been working and how stiff she felt from sitting hunched over her painting.

She took a few steps away to shake her legs out and he moved to look at what she’d been working on. She’d started in on the white of the flowers, and his fingers hovered over her work, following her lines as if he could feel them in the air.

“It’s beautiful,” he said simply, but when he met her eyes again, she knew he meant it.

“Thank you,” she murmured back, then smiled when she caught sight of his notebook again. “Do you mind if I take a look?” She pointed at it and he followed her direction.

“Uh… yeah. It’s… I mean, it’s just scribbles and notes, but… yeah, sure.” He swallowed visibly and moved again to grab it before he stood with her and handed it over.

He hadn’t been kidding about the scribbling. What he hadn’t scratched out in big, black blobs, he’d written in almost illegible scrawls. She could only make out a word here and there, and one he’d circled several different times.

“Is that the title? Miraculeuse?” she asked, pointing to it.

“Uh, no, I mean, I’m not really a lyricist, I’m just, you know…” He fiddled out to the side as if he were playing his guitar and let out an embarrassed chuckle. “But... if there were a title, I guess that’d be it.”

He had a few lines of music notes written down, and she hummed what she could make out. “Is it the same one you showed me earlier?”

He didn’t answer right away, and she looked up to make sure he was still there. He shook his head when she caught his eye.

“No, it’s just…” He blinked at her, dumbstruck it seemed, before he took another one of those breaths. Were they calming to him, maybe? After a slow exhale, he looked up at her through his hair. “It’s just something I thought of, watching you paint.”

She blinked back at him. “You… wrote this about me?”

He nodded and looked away as he ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know anything about drawing, you know? To me… that’s… what you do… it’s…” Another calming breath. She felt her heart start skipping in her throat as she waited for him to find his words. “You took something that I don’t even think about most of the time, and you made it beautiful. You made it art. It’s nothing short of a miracle, if you ask me.”

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks before she could stop it. As she handed the notebook back to him, she noticed someone walking straight towards them in the background.

She was tall and slender, with black hair like Luka’s except she had purple streaks instead of blue that peeked through when the breeze caught it.

When she reached them, she threw her arm over Luka’s shoulders and hung onto him casually. Luka shoved her off, although there wasn’t any meanness in the gesture. Marinette’s eyes flicked back and forth between them.

“You must be Juleka,” she said finally, when she’d put the pieces together.

“And you must be Marinette,” Juleka echoed; her smirk was identical to Luka’s. "I recognize you from the stupid look my brother has on his face."

She elbowed Luka in the ribs, grinning. He chuckled nervously at Marinette, then shot Juleka a look, rubbing his side.

“Has he played you the song yet? Please tell me you played her the song.” Juleka looped her arm through Luka’s and leaned her chin on his shoulder, blinking up at him with a pleading pout. Marinette hid a giggle behind her hand as Luka rolled his eyes.

“He hasn’t played it yet,” Marinette answered her, “but what he has so far seems like it’ll be really good.” She pointed to the journal in Luka’s hands and Juleka’s eyes followed her direction before they lit up with menacing glee.

“Another one? Already? Come on, let me see!”

She reached for it and Luka tugged it out of her hands. There was a brief battle between them, with Luka holding Juleka back any way he could and keeping the journal away from her and Juleka reaching every which way to get at it. He couldn’t even hold it above his head because she was just as tall as he was. He was winning, though, by a slim margin.

Finally, Juleka sighed as she relented, but punched him hard on the shoulder in irritation.

“N’importe-quoi. But you’ll show it to me later, right?”

"Même pas dans tes rêves."

Juleka stuck her tongue out at him, then moved towards the door. She smiled back at Marinette as she passed by him. “Good to finally put a face to your muse,” she muttered in Luka’s ear, just barely loud enough for Marinette to catch it.

Luka reached back and swatted her with the notebook and Juleka cackled as she ducked away and slipped inside. Marinette raised her eyebrows at him as he raked his hair over his ears for what must’ve been the millionth time in the few hours they’d spent together.

“What was all that about?”

“Nothing. She just—well, she likes to tease me and she’s had a lot more ammo recently.”

“She called me your muse,” she said, feeling her blush creep up her cheeks.

“She got that from Sass. I told you, it’s been a nightmare, living with those two.”

Rather than press the issue, Marinette sat back down to her work. He hesitated before he sat with her again. As she picked up her brush and lowered her eyes to her painting, he spoke up again.

“They're not that far off, though, to be honest."

She glanced up, if only to show him she was listening, and he continued after a pause.

"I haven't been able to write anything for… I don't know, months I guess, and then you show up. And my head has been so full of music ever since I can't get it down fast enough."

Her hands were shaking. She took one of his breaths—quick inhale, deep exhale, but it didn’t help her at all. It just made her think of how right before he’d leaned over to kiss her he’d taken a breath just like that. Which only made her realize that he’d been nervous but he’d leaned in anyways.

She kept her eyes down as she pulled her brush away from her work and swirled it into the blue paint that was up next, blending it with the white she’d been working with so she could create a subtle shade between the white tips of the petals and the deep blue of the center of the flower.

She should tell him. Shouldn’t she? He’d been more than honest with her.

“That’s probably a weird thing to say to someone, isn’t it? ‘I hear music when I look at you.’” He chuckled nervously and paused until she glanced up again, and when their eyes caught he continued. “But it’s the truth. You’re the song that’s been playing in my head since the moment we met.”

She probably went some shade of crimson based on how hot her cheeks felt. The bass from the club was back in her chest, but only because her heart was beating so hard it was thudding against her ribcage.

That sounded like a declaration. Of love. Which made no sense because he’d said he’d never been in love… had he said ‘before’? She couldn’t remember when her eyes were locked on his and he was smiling at her like they were talking about the weather and not that he was inspired by her. That he was in love with her.

Abruptly, she stood and pretended a need to stretch before she shook her hands out. They were still trembling and she wouldn’t be able to get any work done until they stopped but talking with Luka was having some sort of effect on her flighty nervous system and all she wanted to do was run away from him, but at the same time she wanted to fall into him, but at the same time she wanted to scream and laugh and cry and—

Luka’s hand fell on her shoulder and gave a small squeeze, which simultaneously sent butterflies fluttering through her and also calmed her spiraling thoughts. She didn’t know how he did that.

“That was forward of me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She shook her head, wanting to tell him he hadn’t, but her tongue was frozen. He was standing so close and his hand on her shoulder was sending a wave of warmth through her. She looked at the gas tank on the ground, so close to being finished, and resolutely pushed her panic away until she had time to think about what it meant.

Luka seemed to sense the calm that washed over her, because he took his hand off her shoulder, but his eyebrows knitted together as if he were confused at the sudden change. There was a little panicked Marinette still banging her fists against the inside of Marinette’s skull somewhere, and when she was alone with Tikki that panicked Marinette would probably come back full force, but for now, she was focused on the task in front of her.

“I should get this finished,” she managed to say, and he nodded, already pulling away from her to let her sit back down.

She finished up just as the sun started setting and he said a quiet thank you before he offered her his hand to shake and a warm smile. Sass paid her, throwing pointed glances at Luka the whole time, and Tikki linked arms with Marinette as they walked away together. Tikki was blowing kisses over her shoulder to Sass, but Marinette kept her eyes on her shoes as her paint kit knocked against her knees.

It had been a long, confusing day, and she was more than willing to let it end.

Translations:

Miraculeuse: Miraculous N’importe-quoi: no matter what (whatever) Même pas dans tes rêves: Not even in your dreams (not a chance in hell)

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #mlb fic #lukanette #lukanette endgame #LBSC Exchange 2021 #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #luka and sass #marinette and tikki #human kwami #fic title: city of love

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phantombandit-films · 3 years

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Why ‘War of the Worlds’ (2005) is a underrated masterpiece.

‘War of the Worlds’ was released in 2005, it is directed by the film god that is Steven Spielberg (Jaws, E.T.) and written by Josh Friedman (Terminator: Dark Fate, Avatar 2) and David Koepp (Jurassic Park, Mission: Impossible)

Cast: - Tom Cruise as Ray Farrier. - Justin Chatwin as Robbie Farrier. - Dakota Fanning as Rachel Farrier. - Miranda Otto as Mary Ann. -Tim Robbins as Harlan Ogilvy. - Ann Robinson as Grandmother. - Gene Barry as Grandfather.

First lets start with some history of ‘The War of the Worlds’ - The 2005 film is based off the novel of the same name which was written by H.G. Wells between 1895 and 1897, it then was then made into a series by Pearson’s Magazine in 1897 in the UK, Cosmopolitan in the US. Then becoming a hardback novel in 1898, it is one of the earliest written pieces to tell a story of conflict between Martians and man and so its one of the most commented on pieces of science fiction.

It has been adapted and developed several times over many decades in many medias, the ones that come to mind are the famous 1938 dramatic radio reading that was directed and starred Orson Welles that actually caused public panic to those who listened in and didn’t know that the Martian invasion was fiction, its said that up to a million people ran out of their homes in terror. (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_War_of_the_Worlds_(1938_radio_drama) )

The 1953 ‘The War of the Worlds’ film adaptation, which was produced by George Pal and directed by Byron Haskin. It also starred Gene Barry (who played Dr. Clayton Forrester) and Ann Robinson (who played Sylvia Van Buren) who can also been seen at the end of the 2005 film, they play the grandparents of Robbie and Rachel which I think is a sweet little cameo to see for those who loved the 1953 film. Ann Robinson also revived her role as Sylvia Van Buren in two other films and three episodes of ‘The War of the Worlds’ tv series in 1988.

In 1978 the most well known musical album by Jeff Wayne was produced and based off the story of ‘War of the Worlds’ this album included the voices of Richard Burton and David Essex.

This was then turned into a concert musical which tours annually through out the UK and Europe, the concert includes live performers such as Carrie Hope Fletcher but also a 3D hologram of Liam Neeson. It also includes a mix of computer animation, pyrotechnics and a big mechanical tripod that comes out on stage and lights up and can fire its heat-ray.

(Source: Birmingham Mail.)

There have also been several Tv series, the two newest being the 2019 BBC version staring Poldark’s Eleanor Tomlinson and Full Monty’s Robert Carlyle, that has a Edwardian setting and follows closely to the novel.

The other being the FOX 2019 adaptation that is set in present day Europe but I found this version didn’t really go off the novel, and was frustrated with the lack of the famous Tripods. (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_War_of_the_Worlds)

As a kid I would watch the 1953 film with my mum all the time as its one of her favourites and I do really like it, but then 2005 rolled around and in comes Steven Spielberg’s version. To be fair it was probably 2006 when I finally saw it, I was nine years old at the time and I remember my dad bringing home the DVD that someone at work had lent him. I don’t remember watching it but I do remember having nightmares for a month after, only for a month though. Many years later when I was half way through high school and getting more and more into film my dad then bought the DVD from Woolworth's before it shut down, the DVD didn’t have a case only a see through CD case so I think it only cost him something like 50p. So I re-watched and again I don’t really remember this but all of a sudden I was hooked, and it climbed to the second spot on my favourite movies list where it still sits today. Honestly if you asked anyone I was friends with at that time they will tell you just how obsessed I was with it.

I have many scenes that I love in this film the first being the rise of the first tripod, but there are two that I geek out over every time.

The first scene being the one in the basement at Robbie and Rachel’s house, the scene starts off with Ray asleep in a chair. He starts to stir when when a blue flash of light on his face, but then jolts up right at a load whooshing noise followed by closely by Robbie shooting up from just below the camera. I love the way that Robbie appears sort of fits with the sound that’s heard, also the whole mood of the scene which is pitch black with this blue flashing light every now and then. The fact that you’re just as clueless as the characters as well, you find out what’s happening when they find out. Also the way that Rachel appears behind the basement stairs, which will appear again near the end of the movie in a much more damaged basement which shows just how much their world has changed in just a short few days. The sound design in this movie as well is something that I love, I love when the sound in a film alone can creep you out. The tripod sound is one of my favourite sounds to exist, like if I heard that from outside I would be so creeped out and scared. At this moment in time Robbie and Rachel have no idea what is hunting them or what Ray has seen, Imagine running from something and seeing something completely destroy the whole of your neighbourhood yet not knowing what it looks like. This is what runs through my mind when I heart Rachel cry “Is it them, Is it them?!” Then the next morning when Ray goes upstairs and see’s that the house is just completely destroyed by an aeroplane that has crashed down in the middle of the the housing estate. This Boeing 747 was a out of use plane and the production crew bought it for $60,000 which then cost them $200,000 to transport, it was then broken into pieces and houses were built around it. Which just shows how far some movie productions will go to make a film look more legit. (We love practical effects in this house.) This scene is still set up at Universal Studios Hollywood and can be seen on the Studio tour.

(Basement and Plane crash scene.)

My second favourite scene, which is one of my all time top favourite scene ever with no surprise is the dock scene. The speeding train that’s on fire is absolute stunning in every sense but for me the scene starts when the music starts. ‘If I ruled the world, everyday would be the first day of spring.’ But i’m really glued to the screen when Rachel starts to follow the birds coming in from the river to in land, she follows them up to the hill where she notices the tree’s on the top are moving weirdly. “The tree’s are funny.” She then reaches out and grabs onto Rays hand who was talking to a friend. Robbie turns to the hill as the camera slowly comes back and shows Robbie also turning to look at where Ray is looking. (Just remembering that this is the first time Robbie and Rachel ever see the tripods.)

The camera then shows us what the family is looking at to reveal a tripod stood on the top of the hill, it then moves one of its legs which crushes a tree and makes everyone else look back. Obviously chaos ensues from this point on, everyone running trying to get onto the ferry to get away from the impending doom, unfortunately we learn that no where, not even on the water is safe. As a tripod comes up from out of the water and attacks the ferry, the family manage to escape and get to land on the other side of the ferry. They stop for a moment to catch their breath as people are being picked out of the water below them, they turn as a old air raid alarm is heard on the other side of the hill and we see tripods coming over another hill that was filled with people and using their head rays to wipe them all out, we also see in the distance a lighting storm indicating more Martions are still coming to earth. The scene is like a depiction of all the stages of the attack. (Dock attack scene.)

I mean all the action scenes in this movie are just so beautiful and amazing, but did we expect any less from Spielberg? And the CGI and practical are all done extremely well and fitted together to make a scene look as real as possible. One of the art directors that worked on this film, Doug J. Meerdink who has also worked on Jurassic Park: III, Cloverfield and Jurassic World.

I was looking up some trivia on IMDB for this movie and found that there was a deleted scene that is called the ‘Camelot’ scene. This scene is supposed to take place between the attack on the ferry and the battle on the hill, it involves Ray, Rachel and Robbie walking through an abandoned housing estate that’s named Camelot, when a pack of tripods start walking near by. One of the tripods breaks off and the family has to take cover behind a SUV, they watch helplessly from behind as the tripod reaches into the house and grabs people from the houses. This scene has never been released but apparently it was fully finished, VFX and all but then taken out a few weeks before post production was wrapped up. There is only one official video from this scene that was in the actual trailer for the film, and it’s only a shot of the family hiding behind the SUV.

The only other shot from the scene is this landscape shot of a CGI tripod.

There are also photos of the set designers setting up the miniature of the housing estate to shoot this scene, the rest are fan arts of how the scene maybe looked/ played out. (Source)

I really hope that one day Steven releases this scene, or for some anniversary adds it into an extended version of the film like we’ve seen for other films. Because I would love that so much! It seems like such an incredible scene, and to see the tripods up this close again would be so cool!

One of the trailers that was released for this film doesn’t have any of the film shots it in, It takes place in a normal neighbourhood where people are just going about their normal nightly routine when suddenly over the hill there are all these brilliant flashing lights, everyone's just coming out of their houses in their pj’s and standing in the street marvelling at this sight in front of them. Then we see explosions and suddenly heat rays are blowing up the tress on the street which then goes into the title. I just love this, a trailer that doesn’t give anything away from the movie but creeps you out enough to be invested. (Trailer.)

All in all it’s just an very visually pleasing film, it feels real enough to give you a sense of fear for the characters and for yourself. I also love that Steven stayed true to the source material,more truer than some of the other adaptations and also added in his own little Easter eggs. The sounds, the aesthetic, the colours just everything comes together so beautifully. I think its a very underrated movie that deserves so much more love.

#war of the worlds #war of the worlds 2005 #robbie farrier #ray farrier #rachel farrier #steven spielberg #movie #film #film talk #tom cruise #dakota fanning #justin chatwin #the war of the worlds #not really a film review #i just wanted to talk about my love for this film

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omniswords · 4 years

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How to Open a Padlock, Part 1 [Nino Lahiffe/Camila Siddiq (OC)]

Four times Camila Siddiq ran into Carapace, and one time she found Nino.

I know I’ve been talking about her on and off on this blog, but I’ve had this piece I wrote about her ages ago, maybe a month or so after I even created her. Camila won’t make her Official Debut until the second half of Chronicles, but… here’s what things would be like if she were in the canonverse.

I hope you like it. I really hope you like it.

Before you start, just a quick content warning for explosions and an act of Islamophobia in this part. It’s. Shit’s real, y’all. And I want you to be safe, so take a step away if you need to.

[i.]

This is the sort of thing that’s only supposed to happen in horror stories on the news. In statistics. In social media, in hashtags, in videos blurred out for containing “sensitive content.” In some other country. Not here. Never here.

Camila isn’t supposed to become a statistic, but she just might be, in the Latin Quarter. And for all her supposed tos and shouldn’t haves, maybe she should have expected it after all.

She’s not particularly religious, not the way her parents are. But Friday afternoons are still sacred family time for her. They’re always blocked out for her to meet with her parents in front of the mosque after the lecture and prayer, and to treat them to lunch. It’s the one time she’ll go a little easier on the makeup, make sure her clothes aren’t too ripped or too sheer or too anything, and it’s mostly out of respect for her mother. Her father, as far as she’s concerned, is just there for the ride. Or, she supposes, the drive. It’s his car they all pile into, after all.

And the Latin Quarter isn’t so bad a place. It doesn’t have the same bustle as the eighth arrondissement, but it’s quaint, and quiet, and it feels like a movie sometimes. She’ll even stick around when she doesn’t have any more classes for the day, or even after her practicum, just to meet up with some classmates or friends for tea, book shopping, a casual game of Frisbee in the park or an adventure in one of the art-house cinemas.

It’s just not the sort of place she would ever expect to see thick, black smoke rising. Especially from the Grand Mosque’s dome. Or to hear screaming, especially from the people rushing out and the people still inside.

In the midst of it all, she can’t help but go stock still for a too-long moment, eyes darting around and scanning the crowd. This isn’t supposed to happen here. It isn’t supposed to happen anywhere, but especially not here. Not to her family. Not to her people. They haven’t done anything aside from wanting to live and be good to others. They haven’t done anything aside from wanting to do the things that bring them peace. For God’s sake, it’s in the name of everything they follow, everything they submit to. Why would anyone want to hurt that? Why are there people who still want to hurt that?

She should have known better than to think there was any country out there that could protect her.

Her mother. She can’t find her mother. But her mother should be so easy to find; she’s one of the few people Camila knows who still defies everything to wear her niqab, still gets slapped with the fine for it and everything. But every woman Camila sees pouring out of the side entrance, has her face uncovered, except where they guard themselves from the smoke with their sleeves. Some of them even have children in tow, and it makes her shake that they’ll have to carry this with them. That they’ll have to go around wondering if they’ll ever feel safe anywhere.

Her mother. She has to go get her mother.

Camila’s barely run a few feet before someone grabs her wrist and yanks her back. Before she can shout in protest, there’s an explosion that shakes the ground, and she screams instead and covers her head to protect herself. She’s gathered up in someone’s arms, against a body, and the ear-splitting sound of it is muffled by a shield.

Wait.

A shield?

Once the explosion subsides and the ground stops shaking, she looks up, slowly. There’s still chaos around her, noise and confusion and questions of when and how and why, but the person holding her barely acts like it. From what she can see under the hood, he’s all serious stares and gritted teeth, talking into some kind of communicator. To Ladybug. She hears Ladybug.

It’s him.

“Carapace?” she ventures to say. She’s surprised at how even she sounds. How she’s not breaking into scared sobs. Maybe it’s the stress hormones. Maybe it’s the fight-or-flight simmering in her blood. “What are you—”

“Akuma,” is his reply, and it’s only then that Carapace looks down to acknowledge her. “You can’t go in there, are you crazy? You don’t know what could happen if that guy gets his hands on you.”

“I don’t even know what is happening.” Camila never knows what’s happened. These akuma things were never a problem before she left home, and now it feels like they’re an everyday occurrence. An annoyance, until now. She struggles in his grip, but if anything, Carapace only holds on tighter. “And I have to go in there, let me go—”

“I can’t,” he says, covers her even more with his shield. “I’m not gonna let one more person get hurt if I can help it—”

“I’m not leaving without her!” she shrieks, and now she’s starting to shake, and she’s pretty sure her makeup is starting to run, and she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what happens to her, as long as—

Carapace pauses, shifts back to hold her at arm’s length. There’s something almost… anxious in his eyes. She has to wonder how many times he’s felt this way. If any of these other superheroes in town feel it, too. “Who?” he asks. Soft. Maybe even a little scared.

It’s impossible not to trust him. She trusted him with her life long before they ever met. “My mother,” she croaks, and gestures in the air with a hand swiping over her mouth. “Her face is covered. I can’t find her.”

“I’ll get her,” he says, so firmly that she’d believe him if she didn’t already. He fits his shield onto his back, and gathers her up into his arms in a bridal carry. “But I’m taking you somewhere safe first. Can’t hurt your mother by letting something happen to you.”

Carapace has a point, as much as Camila hates to admit it. Reluctantly, she fits her arms around his shoulders—which are surprisingly, amazingly broad, and casts one last glance at the building, at her brothers and sisters rushing to safety and the lithe figures battling it out in the distance. It will all be fixed in the end, she has to tell herself. Ladybug will fix everything in the end.

Well.

Almost everything.

“You don’t have to look anymore,” Carapace says, a soft, gentle murmur that she can feel in his chest. And he turns her head away. His heart is pounding hard, she can hear that too, and he tells her to hold on tight before he leaps. She screams when he does, her stomach jolting like she’s on some roller coaster ride or an elevator drop, and she holds onto him even faster than before, and he tells her, “Don’t look down. Whatever you do, don’t look down.”

So she closes her eyes to fight off the temptation, and tries not to think about how Carapace is literally talking to her and carrying her, and settles for straining to hear the grumble of Arabic under Carapace’s breath. She knew he was Moroccan, ever since the Ladyblog confirmed it. But it’s still so strange to hear someone so above her, someone she and pretty much every other woman in her family look to, speaking words that are so familiar to her. Not that she’s heard many people swear in her dialect of Arabic—in fact, even the thought of it makes her shudder—but he drops a couple here and there, talking about a fucking akuma in the fucking courtyard, and how this Hawk Moth fellow had better prepare to meet God in his grave, and—

Oh.

Did he just—?

They’re tucked away near the Pantheon before she knows it, or can say anything. The fighting and the panic are still there, in the distance, and something pulls at her heart and makes her want to go back, makes her want to demand why Carapace took her away. It doesn’t take much from him to quiet that tension, though. Just an earnest look—something so familiar to her, painful in how she can’t place it for how rattled she is—and the same three words. “I’ll get her.” And then, three more: “Stay here. Please.”

She takes a slow, shaky breath, nearly slumping against the wall behind her. She would have loved to meet him some other way. Any other way. She just guesses there wouldn’t be any other way, if he only comes out when there’s danger. “Camila,” she finally says.

Carapace seems to freeze for a moment, fists clenched tight. But his stance relaxes, and his voice goes low and soft. “Is that your mom’s name?” he asks.

“It’s mine.” She swallows hard, fingers latching onto the gold hamsa pendant her grandmother gave to her years ago. “I figure you ought to know the name of the person who owes you one. Or two.”

For the first time since she met him, Carapace smiles. It makes his eyes glitter. Maybe it’d make her heart flutter, too, if he didn’t have somewhere to go. “Hey. You don’t owe me nothin’ but your safety.”

It’s not a very tall order, and she really does wish there were more she could do than just… wait. But if that’s all a superhero is asking of her, then maybe it’s all she needs. She steadies herself, stands up straight, can’t bring herself to look anywhere else but at him. “You…” she starts uneasily, clears her throat. “You think I’m pretty?”

He did say it before. How cruel someone had to be to attack such a pretty girl. Maybe he didn’t know she could understand. Or maybe he forgot. Either way, he blushes, deep red under that hood of his, and nods without a word, and then he’s off again.

Pretty.

Carapace, the hero of literally every Arab in Paris, thinks she’s pretty.

(Well. Of course she already knew she was. It doesn’t make her any less fluttery.)

The waiting game is the worst part. Having to listen for all those distant sounds, poking her head around the corner to look for the occasional person or two running away from the commotion, or maybe a bright green force field. Her body’s shaking so much that it’s almost hard to stand, but she said she wouldn’t leave. So she’s not leaving. She’s waiting. And waiting. Fixing her face, and holding herself together, and waiting.

When the flurry of ladybugs come and return the neighborhood to the way it was, she heaves a sigh of relief, and suddenly the waiting doesn’t feel so bad. It’s numbered, right down to the moment Carapace brings her parents back to her, and he slips away before she can even thank him again.

She hopes, in the time her mother is holding her together instead, in the time that her father is watching news of the arrest on his phone, that Carapace remembered her name.

(“I was there,” she tells Nino later over glasses of iced mint tea and sweets from Marinette’s parents’ bakery. “I was there, and I was scared to death, and I couldn’t do anything.”

Over the sound of a soccer match, Nino squeezes her shoulder, and then her hand. “But someone did,” he says, and he pulls her into a hug. “Someone did so you didn’t have to.”

Someone did, but it wasn’t her.)

#miraculous ladybug #camino #nino lahiffe #oc: camila siddiq #nino/oc #face in hands #please validation..............

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medea10 · 4 years

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My Review of Arte

How did I get into this anime? Well, I had a few slots open for the spring 2020 anime season! Let’s read what this anime is about.

A girl during the Renaissance era in Florence, Italy wants to be an artist…

*ADDS THIS IMMEDIATELY*

I really don’t want to be disappointed with this. I have a horrible habit of adding animes where the main concept has to do with the art world. And have it go wrong when the anime is too boring or not enough love is given to it. But maybe this will go well! The manga is already getting high marks and praise. And for being a history piece, it got picked up rather quickly from a big anime licensor in the west.

Arte comes from a noble family and her family has plans for their daughter. It’s just that Arte is heavily into…well…art. They’re fine as long as it’s only a hobby, but it’s getting a little out of hand for Arte’s mother. Arte wants to become an artist! BIG problem! This is Italy during the Renaissance era. No women artists! But Arte persisted by asking all around to become an apprentice.

The only man to even give her a chance was an artist named Leo. After testing her endurance, he allows her to become his apprentice. Arte’s life is officially changing as she throws away her nobility to draw and paint.

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: FUNimation grabbed this anime. Surprisingly, they didn’t give Arte a simildub. Quite possibly because this was one of those newer animes that arrived during the COVID-19 nightmare! Or they didn’t want to fuck with Italian accents this time around! The sub had a nice mixture of veteran and newer seiyuus. Color me surprised when I heard Rie Tanaka’s voice again near the end of the series. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

*Arte is played by Mikako Komatsu (known for Mairin on Pokemon XY, Seishirou on Nisekoi, Susamaru on Demon Slayer, Wy on Hetalia, Eternal Feather on Soul Eater NOT, and Tori on YGO Zexal)

*Leo is played by Katsuyuki Konishi (known for Kamina on Gurren Lagann, America on Hetalia, Tsumugu on Kill la Kill, Laxus on Fairy Tail, Tanaka on Durarara, Fuegoleon on Black Clover, and Arima on Tokyo Ghoul)

FAVORITE CHARACTER: Arte! This girl wants to pursue a career in the arts and will do whatever it takes to do so. She defies her mother’s wishes, cuts her long hair, almost cuts off her breasts, did all the impossibly difficult tasks other apprentices could never do, and so much more. You have to admire this crazy, little lady.

SHIPPING: In episode 3, Arte started feeling that light and fuzzy feeling many of us feel when we “fall” for someone. And she started to feel funny whenever she was around Leo. This would be fine and dandy except for a few issues. For one thing, Leo is her boss and she’s his apprentice. Best to keep things professional! Secondly, during this period in time, Veronica does have a point. It’s best that if you want to achieve in your craft in a man’s world, it’s best to stow the romance bags to the side. After that bag of reality was dropped on Arte, she mostly focused on her art work and no romance was ever brought up again.

Although, I do have an inkling about Yuri having the hots for Arte! But I know my girl Arte here don’t have time for this boy’s bullshit!

LEO AND ANGELO: No, this isn’t a shipping debate. Actually, there are fans of the show speculating if these two characters are in fact the famous artists Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo. Come on now, this story is absolute fiction with a few true details here and there. Yes, we still don’t know the full name to Leo to prove that he could be the fictionalized version of the real-life artist and the anime never once put up an advisory at the beginning of every episode saying that any character that’s similar to real-life people is purely coincidental. But it’s possible that these two could very well be those very artists. Both da Vinci and Michelangelo were living Florence around the same time. I’ll chalk this up to you history buffs and conspiracy theorists out there. I choose to believe the creator of Arte just used the names of these artists and that’s that!

ENDING: During the 7th episode, Arte is given an opportunity to go to Venice to become a tutor for a handsome man’s niece and to paint a portrait of his sister-in-law. At the time, Venice was seen as a staple in the art world (despite Florence’s rich history that we know today) and this would be a perfect time for Arte to spread her wings. I mean, she won’t be an apprentice under Leo forever, right?! Yeah, Leo’s words to Arte before she left for Venice played around her head a lot during her stay in Venice. Saying that it’s okay if she chooses to stay there longer than six months or even stay permanently!

During this time, Arte was able to find ground with this difficult child (Catalina) that she must tutor as these two do share something in common. Both girls have a certain passion that they want to hone as their own, but can’t due to family forbiding it, status in the world, and even gender. Arte did so much to get where she is now including disobeying her mother by leaving home and try in a profession that’s mainly for men. Arte was unable to do much with her relationship with her family (especially after her father’s death), but she was able to help Catalina and her mother with theirs and even hope for a future where Catalina can see a boy she likes again.

As we near the end of this series, we find Arte still wondering about her future. She’s still seen as the rarity as being a woman of nobility entering the art world when that profession is usually done by people seen as lower than nobles and majorily male. Plus, what Leo said before setting for Venice keeps replaying in Arte’s mind. It’s true that this time Arte has spent in Venice with Sofia and Catalina was life-changing. And Yuri ended up asking Arte to stay with the family permanently. Meanwhile, Leo is noticing that maybe, just maybe, he’s missing Arte. That or he’s annoyed by all the people in Arte’s circle bugging him.

In the finale, Arte has reached a conclusion on where she’s going to go after finishing up Sofia’s portrait. She got some decent advice from one of the apprentices she met in Venice. That Arte should use her nobility and gender to her advantage in a male dominated profession. Okay, he didn’t exactly say that, but you get what I mean. There’s a certain softness to Arte’s work that’s not seen with many male artists. She should continue doing what she loves despite what others may say or think.

So in case you’re wondering, she turned down Yuri’s proposal of staying with Sofia and Catalina full-time. She’s going to head back to Florence and continue as Leo’s apprentice. Yeah, Catalina is pretty upset by Arte leaving after spending over six months with them. But they promised to keep in touch with letters. Upon Arte’s return to Florence, she learns about Leo doing a special mural for the Easter holiday. But Leo got ill and has been bed-ridden for days.

Arte steps in and takes over the mural so that it could be completed in time for Easter. With a little help from her friends like Darcia, Angelo, and Veronica, she was able to complete it. And just in time for Leo to emerge to give his critique on Arte’s work. As usual, he told her on what she should have done, but acknowledges that she has definitely grown as an artist during her time in Venice and is happy to see her again. Surprisingly, that wasn’t the only shocking moment of the finale.

Arte’s mother was there for the unveiling of the mural and actually praises her daughter. I guess she’s come a long way from the first episode where she burned all of Arte’s drawings. So yeah, girls can be more than just bargaining tools for marriage or becoming nuns. So Arte’s going to continue working under Leo and we end there.

I can already tell you that many people were not digging this anime, but I liked it. But again, painting is my thing. And being a female, I’m drawn to stories of girls trying to overcome prejudice just because of their gender. Even when studying art in school, most pieces that were covered in the curriculum were majority (if not, all) male. Well, unless I took a class with a supremely feminist teacher, we would not learn anything about female painters. And if we did, it would just be for like one day or one week out of the semester before we get to the well-known names like Van Gough, Pollock, and Monet.

By the looks of it, Arte doesn’t look like it’ll get any kind of continuation. I know that the manga is still in publication and maybe if that ends we might get something extra. But I wouldn’t hold my breath on that one. Even FUNimation didn’t bother giving this an English dub. Then again, this aired during the height of the COVID pandemic (in Japan) In fact; it was one of the very few animes in the spring season that never took a week off due to COVID. I would like to see what happens to Arte in the future. Like if she ends up with her own workshop or if she takes over Leo’s place when he retires. It’s fun to think of what happens and I might just one day pick up the manga to see if any of that actually happens. Due to my particular love of painting, I’m going to recommend this series regardless. And while you’re at it, check out some other series like Honey and Clover or Hidamari Sketch.

If you would like to watch this anime, FUNimation and Hulu have all 12 episodes available for streaming.

#anime review #arte #leo #angelo parker

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fraudulence-paradox · 4 years

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5/25/16

I had a dream about her last night. One I’ve had before actually. For some reason I’m in K----y’s house and her mom tells me she’ll be right out. Her voice is normal, but somehow I can tell something is wrong. I’m just never sure what. The backdrop is all wrong too. I know I’m in her house, but something is wrong. The whole scene makes me uneasy. It may be the impossible geometry of how we’re standing on muddy dirt, even though I’m sure this is her living room, it may be how K----y always just appears, like the birthing of an orc, out of the shadows, likely from the mud, but this is where the dream always goes awry. I remember a text I received from her a few years back (in real life) where she told me that she’d gained some weight and didn’t want me to see her (I don’t really believe this—and even if it were true, I don’t think it would matter to me—but it stuck in my head somehow), but lo and behold, here she is in the dream. I think this is my subconscious’s way of making it okay that I’ll likely never see her again, because when I do in my dream she’s always hideous. In the particular dream I had last night, she is tall, and pear shaped. Shirtless, for some reason, but where there were well-proportioned breasts, there are scars, and clumps of cellulose. Her entire torso looks like a chewed up pile of pale gum. There are scars covering her. Stretch marks, and what appears to be evidence of a mastectomy. This monstrosity, perched on top of two proportionate, yet asymmetrical legs, which appear to be made of only cottage cheese, and opaque flesh-toned trash bags, as if someone filled two empty bread containers with different amounts of milk, and let them sit in the sun for days, until they finally became rancid enough to solidify and support the weight of the monstrous torso. Yet on top of this mess is her face, normal; untouched.

At this point in the dream I still want what I presumably came to her house for. I want to have sex with her. With it. It disturbs me, but I wouldn’t say I have no idea why my brain makes this. I think it has something to do with our incredibly bizarre, wonderful, and first relationship.

K----y was my first real girlfriend, after the whole Kr---- fiasco, it was nice to find a girl who wasn’t as manipulative, and seemed to really care about me. I was her first boyfriend too, which meant neither of us knew what to expect. K----y was my first everything. First kiss, first fuck, first hand holding. Our first kiss was in a movie theater, where we went to see The Lorax, our first date. I was 15, she was 14, so neither of us could drive. I remember her father picking us up, D--- I think his name was. He was a really cool guy. I don’t know if the stories he would tell while we were driving were true, or meant to impress or intimidate me. But they worked. Quite honestly, I would be absolutely fine with becoming like him. He seems to have done everything in the world. He has a job doing something secret for the government, I’m not sure what. His cover is that he’s a psychologist for the military, but I think it has something to to with government torture techniques. K----y told me once that for a year, while he was stationed in “Florida”, he kept telling her and her family about these cool lizards he kept seeing. K----y later learned that these lizards were only native to [redacted]. He was likely speaking in some sort of code to let his wife know where he was without officially breaking his clearance. K----y also told me once, that she had a distinct memory of being at the natural history museum with him around 2008, looking at dinosaur bones, when he received a call. It’s nature was regarding [redacted] being declassified, and how he and a lot of others may be in the public eye for something in them. I’m not sure if the papers were ever made public, but I put the pieces together.

D---- R-- played piano, but only knew how to improvise, played Anne Frank’s father in his high school show, and told me that’s when he learned how to cry on command. He took K----y and me to the spy museum a few times, and told us how to best memorize your lore. He inexplicably knew Morse-code and several other ciphers by heart, and there was a lot about his life even K----y wasn’t allowed to know about. When he was young, he was heavily involved in a “ministry” that required him to cross the Mexican-American boarder several times a month to do god knows what just south of California. He also told me once that he was one of very few people in the world who knew the exact whereabouts of [redacted]. He was a sketchy dude, but in all the right ways. Basically, he’s what I hope to use my CYSE degree to become.

But he picked us up that day, and drove us to the theater. It was my first time ever talking to him, so he didn’t try to impress me too hard. I guess he used his psych skills to deduce that the first time meeting your girlfriend’s father is intimidating enough without bragging about how dangerous and well connected you are. We got to the theater, and K----y and I took our seats. I have no memory of the movie whatsoever. Likely because I was so concerned with how sweaty my hand was, and how it was locked in hers, so I couldn’t wipe it off. Coincidentally, this was the same movie theater that several months in the future, K----y would give me two blow jobs in during a showing of Frankenweenie, but that day, I was worried about holding her hand. When the credits rolled, I knew it was time. I asked her if I could kiss her, because chicks dig consent, and she said yes. Then, we didn't kiss. We both looked at each other awkwardly, waiting for the other one to make their move, and neither of us did. We were 5 rows ahead of where future K----y would have my penis in her mouth, and we were worried about kissing before the lights turned on. K----y said, “what do we do?”, so I hit her with the suavest line I could come up with. “Well, let’s make like Nike, and.. just do it” and we kissed.

The second our lips touched, I got a feeling a lot like how people describe meth. A huge dopamine rush that even now I look back on with envy. If kissing is a drug, it has the fastest tolerance of any of them. I’ve never felt such a rush in my entire life as I did the day I quoted a shoe company at my ex, and pushed my mouth onto her. This was really the beginning of a long string of lust filled relationships, where I chased the dragon that was that dopamine rush. I used to think about that kiss just to pass time. When I used to mow lawns with J---, sometimes in the gasoline scented afternoons I would forget about how big a hill was because I was so caught up in replaying that memory. I don’t know that I’ve ever had a physically intimate experience with anyone in the world that was quite like that moment. But I came close, and that was when I took her virginity.

This was really the beginning of the end of our relationship, but I didn’t know that yet. From the first time she gave me a blowjob, or I fingered her we lost focus in any romance, and just chased sexual pleasure, but it what we had seemed fixable. But as soon as we started having sex, that was all we did. Really it was my fault. I kind of fucked up everything in that relationship, and I often wonder what things would be like if we never broke up, if we met at a time when I wasn’t so focused on fucking.

(Note from the future)

I don’t think I have that many regrets in my life, but if I have any, one of them is breaking up with her. It’s been almost 7 years and I still think about her at least a few times a month. Currently I’m even in a really good relationship with someone else, but I always wonder, “what if?”. I mean, there must be a reason things didn’t work out. And as the dream sequence from this entry, and future entries that will be posted will undoubtably note, the K----y I remember isn’t the one that exists any more. In my mind, she’s still the same person she was when we were dating… 7 years ago. But I know that isn’t her now. I’m not the same person I used to be, why should she be?

It’s more of a bizarre, chase for something that doesn’t exist anymore. When we first dated, we were both weird outcasts. Her, a quiet girl, sitting by pure chance, at my table in 9th grade history. Me, a weird, bombastic, eccentric nerdy guy. These days, I know almost nothing about her. I know she at one point worked at a grocery store near where I live, and I sometimes go there with the creepy, stalker, self-loathing hope that I’ll get a glance at her, but I’m not sure she even lives here anymore. The last thing I heard from her was that she was with someone she really loved; the way she talked about him made it seem like they would be married. Frankly, I hope that’s what happened. It’s what she deserves. But some horrible, degenerate part of my mind wishes that one day, I would wake up, back in 11th grade, and everything would go back to how it was. I was happy then. I was dating a girl whom no other has ever compared to, I had several close friends. I was depressed as all hell, sure, but at least then I was doing interesting things. I was in a few bands, I was at the absolute peak of my “making interesting art” phase, I even made short films all the time, and had aspirations about becoming a professional film maker. I was happy and naïve.

These days, I’m on what I consider the path to maximal happiness. I’m a Ph.D. student at a just okay university for my field, I just submitted a paper, and feel like I’m learning things at a depth I didn’t even know was possible, but something is missing. What K----y represents to me now isn’t what she is, it’s what I used to have. K----y isn’t just a girl I used to date. She isn’t a person whom I used to love, and a person whom I gave a piece of myself that I can never have back. She’s a symbol. And I know that’s completely unfair if she ever actually read this—no one wants to be someone else’s metaphor. I’d be fucking pissed if I was (well, I don’t know, maybe I’d be a little flattered that I lived in someone’s head rent-free, as they say). To me she’s a symbol of that happy, carefree time that was late high school. I was old enough to drive, but young enough not to have any real responsibilities. Maybe part of growing up is just accepting that your happiness peaked at a certain point, and there’s nothing you can do about that.

All of this is to say, it’s easier for me to personify the whole “spent youth” thing in someone I used to date—used to love—then it is to just accept it as it is. Many of the things I associate with her, I wasn’t even dating her for. But loving her was just the most emotionally significant thing that occurred for me in high school, so it’s just what happened. I really do hope she’s happy.

When we broke up, I sent her a lengthy text message on my old keyboard-having phone. I wish I still had it, because I think it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever communicated to another human being (wow, pretentious much, [fraudulence-paradox]?). But the gist of it is something like:

The whole universe started with the big bang

And there’s this theory that it will all end with a big crunch.

Time will reverse, and everything will go backward and everything you and I have ever done will repeat in reverse.

But then, it will get to the beginning, and the universe will start again.

So at some point, you and I will be back together, back in those first days when everything was beautiful

And even though everything happens again, and we just have to relive everything

I don’t think I would change a single thing

#college journal #journal #young love #relationships #K #regret #first love #love #breakup #breakups #story #first #relationship #girlfriend #high school #highschool #i know she follows one of my accounts #she could easily find this #i sort of want her to

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maelstromik · 5 years

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i want you by my side along the way

thank you @notskam for your lovely ask about my birthday fic for eliott. hope you enjoy reading this! ♡ (sorry it’s so late).

summary: it's a stark contrast to how he's celebrated his birthday in previous years, almost a gentle reminder of how far he's come and that maybe, just maybe he should be proud of himself for all the things he's managed to achieve since meeting lucas.

or, the one where it's eliott's birthday and he's just really soft for lucas.

word count: 2.5k

----

eliott turns nineteen on a tuesday.

he turns nineteen on the tuesday that officially marks the end of their busy exam period, marks the end of study sessions bordering on the edge of late-nights and early mornings, marks the end of too many minutes spent apart from lucas and all the simple ways in which he's able to distract eliott from cramming as much information into his brain as possible.

it's a huge relief in more ways than one that his birthday lands on such a day because he doesn't have to worry about anything other than what lucas has planned for them next. he can whole-heartedly enjoy his day.

and what a day it had been so far.

lucas had woken him up that morning with breakfast in bed, balanced a tray full of carefully prepared food on his knees while eliott rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and then there had been kissing, lots and lots of kissing and hushed whispers of happy birthdays and i love yous along bare skin as lucas pressed him into the mattress, fingers trailing nimbily along his spine and eliott had fisted his hands into the sheets, tilted his head back, exposing the column of his throat as lucas' touch sent him stumbling over the edge over and over again.

they'd sprawled out atop the sheets afterwards, limbs entangled and heads pressed close together as the sun cast warm, golden hues over their sweat-dampened skin and eliott remembers wanting to lie there with lucas for eternity, wanting to spend his first twenty-four hours as a nineteen year old beside lucas in a bed of rumpled sheets and they very well could have if lucas hadn't had so much planned for him.

it had made eliott's heart ache at the time and that same ache still throbs rhythmically in his chest as he thinks about it now, thinks about all the places lucas took him today from strolling through old record stores to having a late picnic lunch at la petite ceinture as the sun dipped lower and lower, painting the sky in a mirage of soft pinks and yellows.

a part of eliott thinks that all of it had been leading up to this moment, right now in which he's surrounded by a roomful of people he's grown to call friends, a roomful of people he loves without no bounds and a roomful of people whom he knows loves him back just the same.

it's a stark contrast to how he's celebrated his birthday in previous years, almost a gentle reminder of how far he's come and that maybe, just maybe he should be proud of himself for all the things he's managed to achieve since meeting lucas.

because there's been a lot of things and eliott doesn't think for a second that he would have been able to do all of those things without lucas by his side, without lucas' words of encouragement and silent gestures of support.

he owes lucas so much, loves lucas so much but can never fully put into words just how much.

eliott smiles softly, smiles because every, single cell in his body lives and breathes lucas, yearns for lucas and he looks across the crowded room, looks past the wisps of cigarette smoke hanging in the air and rests his gaze on the back of lucas' head, his brown hair sticking up haphazardly in every direction.

it's the first time in the entirety of the day that they've been apart from each other, that lucas hasn't been glued to his side and at first, eliott had appreciated lucas' need to give him time and space to goof around with idriss, sofiane and his other friends but now, eliott just wants lucas tucked into his side again, doesn't think he can spend any more minutes apart from him.

he watches as lucas whispers something to yann before hopping down from his stoop on the kitchen counter and then eliott loses sight of him, loses him in the crowd.

eliott pushes off from where he's leaning against the wall beside idriss, "i'm going to go and find lucas, okay?"

"mhm," idriss smiles knowingly, his eyes glinting with humour and pats eliott's shoulder. "of course you are."

eliott huffs out a half-hearted fuck you to his friend before making a beeline to the kitchen, idriss' laughter drowned out by the pulsating beat of the music but lucas isn't in the kitchen, he's no longer milling around yann, arthur or basile and eliott frowns, feels off-balance because he just wants to be near lucas again, wants to spend the remaining hours of his birthday with lucas.

baz seems to take pity on him however while yann and arthur remain tight-lipped about lucas' whereabouts, muttering something about the surprise being ruined if they did so and okay, eliott thinks that's fair enough but he can't think of what else lucas could possibly surprise him with because this entire day has been somewhat of a surprise.

"he's in his room," baz says matter-of-factly at the same time arthur complains about baz never being able to keep his mouth shut.

eliott huffs out a laugh and thanks baz for his honesty, tells him he'll protect him if lucas tries to murder him later for ruining the supposed surprise and then he's off, sneaking down the corridor and slipping soundlessly into lucas' bedroom.

and there's lucas, hunched over something eliott can't quite see in the dimly lit room, the only source of light being the bedside lamp.

"hi," eliott whispers, inching closer and lucas almost comically freezes at the sound of eliott's voice before he's composing himself and covering whatever's sitting on the bed with one of his blankets.

lucas turns around, "hi, birthday boy."

eliott smiles, "only for a little while longer."

lucas hums, eyes flickering briefly to the glowing, red numbers of the digital clock sitting beside the lamp on the beside table before taking one, two, three steps and curling his arms around eliott's neck, "then we'll need to make the most of it."

"i think we already have," eliott murmurs, settling his hands on lucas' hips. "we've done so much today… you've done so much for me today."

lucas smiles, almost shyly, "it's not over yet."

"i know," eliott admits, moving his hands up lucas' sides.

lucas narrows his pretty, blue eyes, "fuck, who told you? it was yann wasn't it? i swear - "

eliott chokes on a laugh, "no, it wasn't yann. baz did let it slip about some sort of surprise though."

"traitor," lucas huffs out a breath, knocks his forehead gently against eliott's. "did he tell you what the surprise was?"

eliott shakes his head, presses a lingering kiss to lucas' parted lips just because he can, "no but i'm guessing that whatever it is, it's that lump sitting under your sheets."

lucas snorts, "how'd you manage to guess that?"

"i'm wiser way beyond my years."

"way beyond your nineteen years, of course."

eliott smiles, tucks a stray strand of lucas' hair behind his ear and leans impossibly closer, "so what is it?"

lucas' gaze falters for a moment and eliott registers the sudden nervousness pooling inbetween his cerulean blue eyes. it's strange to see lucas so unsure of himself right now when he's spent the entire day being so sure of himself, being so sure in all the places and things he treated eliott to.

eliott cups lucas' face in his hands, "lucas? you don't have - "

lucas shakes his head, "no, it's just… it's your birthday present and i don't know if you'll like it."

"you got me a birthday present?" eliott blinks, his mind getting caught up in the words because he can't remember the last time someone gave him a birthday present let alone planned out an entire day full of birthday activities for him. his parents had grown out of the tradition of presents on birthdays and eliott hadn't really minded because he wasn't really sure what he wanted as a present either and it saved them all the hassle.

"i - of course i got you a birthday present, eliott. it's your birthday, dummy," lucas says softly, his lips brushing against eliott's as he speaks.

"no i-i just wasn't expecting it," eliott breathes. "do i get to see it?"

"what if you don't like it? it's kind of - "

"lucas, i'm sure i'll love it, okay? because you got it for me, you put the thought into actually getting something for me."

lucas exhales and nods almost mechanically before stepping out of the circle of eliott's arms and shuffling towards his bed. eliott hovers over his shoulder as lucas peels back the blankets to reveal what looks to be a large photo frame, encased in glass and there's something behind the glass of course but eliott can't see it in the weak light, can't make out the shapes and figures.

lucas picks up the frame carefully and turns back to face him, a nervous smile dancing on his lips, "happy birthday, eliott."

and eliott swears his heart almost stops once he realises what the frame is holding.

because it brings back a flood of memories, takes him back to a time in which he had no clue what was going on in his head, no explanation to account for his actions but then those memories are replaced just as quickly as they come by lucas' face, illuminated by the moonlight, his hands outstretched and waiting for eliott's own to entangle with them and then there's the rain, pouring down around them while they kiss and kiss and kiss.

it's polaris in the frame, enclosed in glass.

each, individual frame of eliott's storyboard has been enlarged and combined together like pieces of a puzzle to fit into the large frame and it looks like a work of art, almost. it looks too precious to touch and eliott just feels dazed, feels so fucking emotional that lucas… his lucas did this for him.

"i - do you like it?" lucas' voice sounds faraway. "it's polaris, eliott. the storyboard that you made… i know how important it is to you, how important it is to both of us and i just wanted you to have a bigger piece of it… i don't know, it might be kind of dumb but -”

"it's not," eliott whispers. "it's not dumb."

"really?" lucas is fiddling with the hem of his button-down shirt, avoiding eliott's face.

eliott steps closer to him, places two fingers underneath his chin and tilts lucas' face upwards so that their eyes can meet and then he leans down, closes the remaining distance between them and kisses him. lucas gives back as good as he gets, parting his lips on a surprised oh before his hands are traveling, up and up and up until they're tangling in eliott's unruly hair and deepening the kiss with a lazy flick of his tongue against eliott's.

eliott sighs into the kiss before pulling away, his eyes wet and a part of him feels embarrassed for crying, feels embarrassed for the tears that are now trickling down his face and gathering under the curve of his chin but then he remembers that this is lucas. lucas, who has seen him at his best and his worst and there's just no need to hide himself around lucas. he couldn't if he tried.

"eliott?" lucas whispers, his hands falling from eliott's hair and landing on eliott's face, thumbs sweeping over the tops of his cheekbones and brushing away the stray tears.

"i-it's beautiful, lucas… it's amazing," eliott finds the words to speak somehow partly because he can't stand the concern swimming in lucas' eyes and partly because he has to tell lucas how much he appreciates it. "i love it, i love you."

lucas' face splits into a grin at that and eliott watches as he blinks away tears of his own but they only serve to make his eyes look bigger and bluer if that's even possible, "i love you too, eliott."

eliott shakes his head, in wonderment, "i can't believe you did this… for me."

lucas smiles softly, "i would do anything for you."

eliott swallows past the lump in his throat, blinks back a wave of fresh tears, "why?"

"what do you mean why?"

"i don't deserve any of this, lucas. i'm not - "

lucas interrupts him with a hard, insistent kiss to his lips, "you deserve all of this and more, eliott. okay? i just wanted your birthday to be special… to be something you'll remember for a long time, hopefully because i love you so much and i'm so proud of you. you deserve only good things, eliott demaury. okay?"

eliott wants to protest, wants to tell lucas that he doesn't deserve him, doesn't deserve how much love he's feeling in his heart right now. so much, that he feels like it might burst but there's a bigger part of him that believes what lucas is saying, a bigger part of him that urges him to realise that this is the truth, that this is his new normal.

he's not alone anymore, never alone.

"okay," eliott agrees, wrapping his arms around lucas.

lucas comes easily, tucking his face into the crook of eliott's neck and eliott buries his face in lucas' hair, inhales his boy's usual scent of coconut laced with some sort of citrus and they just sort of exist like that for a while, standing in the middle of lucas' unkempt room, bathed in yellow light with their arms around each other.

"are you having a good birthday?" lucas asks after a few moments, his voice muffled by eliott's shoulder.

eliott snorts, "what do you think?"

he feels lucas smile before he answers, "i think you are."

"lucas?"

"hm?"

"thank you," eliott whispers hoarsely. "for today. i don't think i've celebrated my birthday this much since i was a kid and i wasn't… i wasn't expecting all of this today but it's been the best day. the best."

lucas moves back, just slightly and peppers kiss after kiss along eliott's jawline, his eyes shiny with moisture, "that's all i wanted."

eliott smiles at him and tucks lucas back into his rightful position against his chest. they can still hear the muted sounds of the music booming in the living room, it almost reverberates through the walls, through their interconnected bodies but neither of them make any move to return to the party and when lucas asks him whether they should go back after a long while of just standing there, holding each other and swaying gently to the distant music, eliott asks for a few more minutes where it can just be the two of them.

and lucas agrees without question, burrows even closer to eliott and later, just minutes before his birthday comes to an end and they're cutting the cake, layered in swirls of chocolate and vanilla and everyone's singing at the top of their lungs, lucas places a steadying hand on the small of his back and whispers in his ear to make a wish before he blows out the candles.

and eliott blows out his candles in a single breath, wishes for a lifetime of this, a lifetime of minutes with lucas by his side.

#skam france #skamfr fic #elu #elu fic #eliott demaury #lucas lallement #i'm sO awkward #about people reading my writing #but i hope you like it :')#runs and hides #crying #i hope the read more thing works :'(#sorry if it doesn't

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fullsunhyuckie · 5 years

Text

we grow up!

*here’s to mark’s graduation from dream! you’ve done well, mark.

slice of life!au

in which a group of strangers go for an adventure of a lifetime.

disclaimer: i know mark graduated yesterday but i wrote this story a long time ago and i feel like there isn’t a better time than now for me to post this. so here goes my tears :,)

day0:

at 19, mark was unsure of his future.

it never crossed mark’s mind that the age, twenty, would come so early but boy was he wrong. it was as if it was only yesterday he just learnt how to chew gum.

mark was intending to go on a road trip for five days right before he officially becomes an adult. but you see, the downside of being a hardworking individual is that you simply have no friends. that’s how mark came up with the idea to invite 6 other teenagers around his age to follow him. he went to the local cafe right opposite his block. it was the place where teenagers often hang out.

there he met 6 other teens who were different yet he could connect with them easily. renjun, an 18 year old aspiring artist who left his hometown to pursue his dreams. he’s small but he can hit a bitch if he needs to. jeno, an 18 year old cheerful soul who will do anything to ensure that everyone is happy. he says he is no fun but he can turn on his funny button if he needs to. haechan, an 18 year old devilish boy who should’ve been born in the 80s. he picks on others but he sure is full of love. jaemin, a loveable 18 year old boy who could flirt for a living. he may seem a little odd with all the flirting but he’s the most loyal friend you can ever come across. chenle, a 17 year old loud loud child who is absolutely talented. he screams a lot but he definitely has a beautiful voice. and lastly, jisung, a 16 year old dancer who is insanely talented. he’s young but he is taller than you. a fact.

“let’s go on a road trip.” and that’s how their journey began.

day1:

mark thought this was a stupid idea. he was the only one who could drive so how was he supposed to fully experience his adventure. whatever it was, he still continued on. it’s not like he could find group of 6 other willing boys.

he borrowed his brother’s, johnny, red suv and drove right off. there was no plan, nothing. just 7 boys in a red suv ready to experience life together. it started off awkward. none of them talked. even haechan, the supposed moodmaker, was silent throughout the whole journey. there was just nothing they could talk about, they didnt know each other at all.

even as they reached the first pitstop, they were silent. probably just constant gag sounds from renjun because he disliked awkward situations. i mean it’s not like mark could do anything, he was driving. while they were having a cup of hot chocolate (weirdly enough, all of them ordered the same thing), mark blurted out a question about why they decided to follow him. they all had the same exact answer (well not exactly but you get it) and that is because they all have a dream,,,,,and then the awkward silence returned.

they all willingly agreed to pitch a tent and have a camp by the sea, the moment they arrived. well, at least it wasnt so awkward when they were asleep.

day2:

the next morning they drove off to have brunch. on the way to the diner, famous for their pancakes, haechan boosted his stereo to michael jackson’s bad and surprisingly all of them enjoyed it. they had more similarities than they thought they would. as they reached the diner, the mood was lighter than ever. it was as if sleeping together made them bond well. again, all of them ordered rather similarly. jaemin suggested they played a prank on the waitress to add a little spice to their morning. jisung decided that they should play a game and the loser has to sing the menu to the waitress.

as expected, renjun lost and he was forced to do the prank. he came up to her and before he could say anything the waitress said, “with voices as loud as you boys, you think i wouldnt know what you’re about to do? save yourself the embarrassment.” with that all of them ran out, leaving a red cheeked renjun standing in the middle of the diner. remember when i said renjun could hit a bitch if he wanted to? well this is what i meant. none of the boys left without a bruise. especially chenle who could not stop laughing.

they decided once again to stop by a park to take in fresh air. mark decided they should get to know one another even better. thats how they ended up playing a game of two truths and one lie. there were stupid lies and horribly dumb truths that came up and one that got mark thinking whether growing up was something he wanted. during haechan’s turn, he explained that his truth was that he was afraid of not having anywhere to go after being an adult. they all left what haechan said aside because truth be told none of them knew for themselves either.

they carried on playing other games and having dinner at the same diner because let’s be real, renjun’s pride comes after a good meal. but throughout the whole time, all of them started getting afraid of the horrors of their adulthood. even for jisung who still has 4 years left till his coming of age.

day3:

now, the third day was the most awful. they felt raw this day. but we’ll get to that. it has only been 2 days but the boys felt as though they had been friends for decades. or rather decade, none of them are twenty as of now.

jaemin and jeno went to the nearby convenience store to get breakfast for the boys. for the whole day they decided to just sit around and talk. and so they did. thats the reason why they felt raw.

mark sat without sharing anything. he was terrified. he was afraid that if anyone knew about it they would mock him and his innocent dream.

renjun began first. he talked about how he thinks that his dream is dumb. it has been 4 years since he came to korea and not once has he gotten an offer to further his art studies. whats the point he thought? anything he drew would never be approved as beautiful enough. and it sucks because when he showed his artwork, mark thought that it was a masterpiece. to him it doesnt matter how beautiful the piece was, it was the story behind it that counts. and that came mark’s first lesson, that nothing in life is ever fair.

jeno went on to talk about how he had no goal. nothing at all. for him, his dream is to live a life with no regrets. thats why he’s not pushing to do anything to stress himself out. he’s just gonna go with the flow. after graduating from his high school barely passing, he feels as though it doesnt matter. jeno believes that he’ll get somewhere one day. after all he’s still a teenager he’s got enough time to think about these things. but for now, he’ll just live in the moment. and that was mark’s second lesson, to live and let loose.

haechan was next. he had a dream to be a singer. and god that boy could sing. but for haechan he felt insecure. no matter how many people came up to him to tell him he was talented, he just cant accept that. that’s probably why he hides it with all the snarky remarks and the over the top compliments for himself. he never felt that he was good enough. but mark feels bad because haechan doesnt deserve to feel that way. haechan was full of love and he couldnt understand why he couldnt give himself any. this made him learn his third lesson, that only you can bring happiness to yourself.

and then there’s jaemin. mark cant help but feel sympathetic for him. jaemin was a dancer, a really good one (from the videos jaemin showed). but the thing is he cant dance anymore. at all. he got into an accident and now he isnt allowed to dance anymore. but the weird thing is that it didnt stop him from being content with life. for he feels that everything happens for a reason. and mark looks up to jaemin because he never fails to put on a smile knowing that his dream of being a dancer is near impossible for him to achieve. that’s how mark learnt to smile even if failure comes.

well for chenle, he had already achieved his dream. well partially. he is currently a trainee singer at a well known agency in korea. as a child, chenle was a music prodigy in china. he went on talent shows and clinched first place in almost every one of them. it was as if chenle’s future had already been written for him to be a singer. but he never used his past to get a boost for an opportunity in the industry. he worked incredibly hard to get into the agency and never once did he take his place for granted. mark learnt from him that its important to stay humble.

and lastly, jisung, the dancing king. mark was amazed by how insanely talented this boy was. it was no wonder he became a famous child dancer, known all over korea. anywhere jisung went people would recognise him and mob him for his autograph or a picture. but as mark sees how jisung acts when he’s with those his age, he realises that jisung is in fact just a kid and he’s just trying to enjoy life as normal teenager. its a pity for jisung because he devoted his whole youth to dancing, and now even when he looks back, his childhood was all just a blur. he complains that if there was one regret he had, it was not living each day to its fullest. that was mark’s last lesson. to seize every moment.

by the end of it all, they were all starting to doze off. and before they knew it , they fell asleep. except mark because he cant help but wonder what will happen to these boys once they part. and in that same moment he thinks, thank god i met these people.

day4:

the next day they woke up in the late afternoon. all of them felt exhausted after spilling almost everything about themselves.

the moment mark woke up he felt awful. there were only two days left till he becomes an adult and that thought scared him to his wits. he began sobbing softly and the boys came running to him. mark explained.

mark was afraid of having a future at all. everytime he tried, he failed. mark wanted to be a rapper. wanted. because there were so many competitions that he attended and he failed. so many people told him that he’ll fail because as a rapper, there’s no future for him.

mark shared that his parents were supportive of him so that wasnt a problem. but you see he didnt want to burden his parents. he knew if he pursued this dream it would take a lot of money and none would be gained back. now mark’s left, all goal-less because he knows if he tried, he’ll fail for sure.

so that’s how mark ended up here in seoul. because he needed a breather. his parents advised that if he doesnt know what to do he should just enter college. thats a sure success because a degree can get you any job you need. but mark was sure it wont bring him happiness because he knows that he doesnt want to go to university, it’s just not him. mark felt empty as though no one understood him, until now of course.

as the 7 dreamers sat under the night sky they thought to themselves. the adults always say you need to plan for your future, you need to know what you want to do. but they never help you. they’d just leave you to figure things out by yourself.

the adults never tell us how hard the process of growing up is. they never prepare us for it. its like going into a battlefield without weapons. no matter how loud you shout or plead for them to aid you. its useless because now they’ll pull out the “it’s your life. it’s your decision” card. but if you fail, its all on you. and if you succeed then suddenly, the family’s the one who paid for the fees and give you moral support and all that jazz.

so that made them awfully afraid because they knew that one day they’ll be doing something and that they’ll get somewhere. but what if they arent happy? what if they’re miserable?

day5:

it was the last day. the 7 of them drove back. the whole drive home was silent. they knew that it’ll be the last time they would see each other. mark will be leaving. he didnt intend to grow so close with the boys but he did and now he hates it. his heart is heavy to leave them but he has to. he understands that people come and go. thats just the cycle. unknown to mark, this is part of growing up. he has to accept that, nothing in life is constant, no matter how hard it is.

as they reached the same coffee house, you could see how all their eyes turned crystal. but their egos are high, so fret not cause they’ll not cry. except renjun and haechan, they cried. hard.

all mark did was put a smile on his face and he said “yo dream. promise me you’ll remember me, alright. we’ll see each other soon.”

and with that he left. and never turned back. because he knew if he did, he wont be able to say goodbye.

day6 (the day mark turned 20) :

now, mark’s 20.

at 20, mark’s still unsure of his future. but he knows that all he wants for now, is to be happy.

-Z

#nct imagine #nct reactions #nct fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream #nct 2018 #7dream #imsosad #imissmarkalready #ithasntevenbeenaday #anywaysenjoymytears

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kates-sweet-escape · 5 years

Text

[WH] YOURS - The Series: Prologue

pairing: Wonho X Reader (female)

genre: Angst

word count: 1.9k

summary: You made up your mind. You need to leave your old life behind, to save yourself. Even if that means sacrificing your heart and soul.

cover: Made by me. Picture credit to Official Monsta X

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Prologue | 01 | 02 | 03

Deafening silence.

It swallowed you whole as you were sitting on the edge of your bed. You desperately tried to focus on anything but the stillness. Footsteps. Mumbling. Hell, you’d be even grateful for the sound of people screaming out in agony. Because if you didn’t find something else to focus on but this all-consuming silence you’d lose your goddamn mind. Or break down into tears. And you couldn’t afford either.

You needed to be focused. Ready. And most definitely you needed to be out the door and on the run.

But you couldn’t. Your body didn’t allow you to move. Not even a bloody inch. Instead, you were still sitting there. Right at the very edge of your bed where you’d been sitting for the past thirty minutes.

Motionless. Quiet. And in so much pain that it made you almost unable to breathe.

But you needed to go through with this. You needed to save yourself. Or at least what would be left of you once you went through that damn door. So you took a deep breath. And another one. As if you were doing it for the first time. Slowly. Taking in as much oxygen as you possibly could with each shaky breath. Until you got used to the sharp pain that was ripping your heart into tiny little pieces.

You ran your fingers through your hair and looked towards the white bedroom door. You could hear the muffled voices of the guards who were quietly talking to one another in the hallway. Probably to keep themselves awake in the dead of night while the rest of the estate was fast asleep. You couldn’t make out what they were talking about. Presumably about sports. Maybe even about their significant others. Maybe they were talking about the problems they had or the struggles they went through. Or they were actually talking about when to make the next round to ensure the leading family's safety.

You should be focussing on their words. You should be formulating a plan how you’d be able to get to the great staircase and down into the entrance hall without them wreaking havoc. And this would only be the first of the many more troubles waiting for you. You’d have to get out of the estate and into the garage to get to your car, sneaking past all the guards along your long way from your bedroom and towards your car. You’d have to get out of the garage and down the long road that lead straight to the huge gates that were protecting your childhood home from the rest of the outside world. And all that without being caught.

Which was damn near impossible. But you needed to try.

Because you couldn’t stay here. You couldn’t stay in this place that was slowly but steadily killing any humanity left inside of you. Where organizing illegal cage fights and dealing drugs was as normal as breaking bones or even killing. It was the world you’d been born into as daughter to the leader of what people simply called “The Clan”.

You were the princess. The crown jewel. The blood diamond.

But your older brother Hyunwoo was the new king.

And it started to change him.

When your father had died almost two years ago you’d still hoped that things would change. That the days of excruciating cruelty and pointless bloodshed were finally over. Because your big brother had been a kind soul. Well, at least for the heir of South Korea's biggest syndicate.

Hyunwoo had always preferred diplomacy over brute force. Or so you’d thought. Until he’d killed an innocent witness. Right in front of your eyes. He didn’t even flinch when he’d pulled the trigger, staring the man straight in the eyes before putting a bullet into his head.

That’s when you’d known that you’d have to go. That you had to leave it all behind if you didn’t want to turn into a monster that didn’t care about the countless lives it was ripping apart on its blood trailed way to the top. But you’d put it all off over and over again. Waiting. Hoping. But things had gotten worse over the last four months since Hyunwoo had killed his first victim as the new head of family. And now you couldn’t postpone this any longer.

You let out a deep sigh and turned your glance back towards the bed. Leaving wasn’t easy. Not at all. And there was a simple reason for that. And that reason was soundly asleep right next to you, only inches away from where you were sitting.

Hoseok was lying on his back, right in the middle of the king size bed, his right arm extended towards the side you were usually sleeping on. The sheets underneath were messy and his skin was still slightly glistening with sweat. His silver hair was softly glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp and his long lashes were casting shadows onto his cheeks. The blanket was covering him up to his hips and his exposed chest was rising and falling with his calm and steady breath. His skin was naturally pale. Almost like the fur of the snow white rabbit you’d had owned as a child. Countless tattoos were decorating his skin, making it look like the canvas of a talented artist who’d immortalized his art beneath Hoseok’s skin.

You still remembered when he’d gotten his first one. The black X right over his heart. His reward for surviving the initiation and a symbol of being part of The Clan.

You’d been an eleven-year-old brat. He’d been a lost and angry fourteen-year-old boy.

Hard to believe that it had been ten years since he’d gotten his first tattoo in your clan’s most trusted tattoo studio. He’d been sitting on the stool right next to Hyunwoo, casually chatting away while the tattoo artist was doing his handy work. You’d held onto your brother’s hand, squeezing it tightly. You’d been completely terrified of the needles scratching your beloved brother’s skin, making him bleed and grunt in pain. Him. Your indestructible brother. And just when you’d thought that you’d burst into tears, bringing shame to the family through turning into a sobbing mess, Hoseok had reassured you with a kind smile on his face, not showing his pain to a terrified little girl that had hated the sounds of the tattoo machine. But over the years you’d gotten used to it, accompanying him to every appointment at the tattoo studio and even getting one or two works of art yourself.

You knew the story to every tattoo and every scar on his body. Which was probably a given considering the fact that you’d been his lover and best friend for the past seven years.

He’d first kissed you on your fourteenth birthday. When you’d asked him for it after heavily crushing on him for years. It had been a short and chaste kiss. A peck really. But that had started it all. After that, the two of you had often snuck out to meet in secret in the pantry of the kitchen. Sometimes you’d talked for hours. Sometimes you hadn't talked at all.

By the time you’d turned sixteen, Hoseok finally had the courage to tell your father about it. That night he’d lost his first fight to Hyunwoo. And you’d lost your virginity to him in your family's nurse’s office after mending his wounds yourself.

A few weeks after your eighteenth birthday, when Hoseok had almost been killed in one of your father's pointless vendettas against another clan, he’d asked you to marry him. And you’d said yes, planning this grand future with him now that your family had finally accepted him as worthy of you.

And now, at age twenty one you were about to leave him. Just two months before your wedding. And while you were still as madly in love with him as you’d been from the day you’d first seen him all those years ago when your father had brought him in, an orphan boy of barely twelve years with no past and no future.

You stretched out your hand and tried to ignore the big diamond on your ring finger that was sparkling in the soft light as you brushed back a strand of Hoseok’s hair.

You loved him. More than you could ever love yourself.

But you couldn’t keep doing this. You had to leave. And you knew that he’d never leave with you. He’d been raised to be your brother’s right-hand man. His loyal attack dog and servant. The Clan was the only family he’d ever known. And you couldn’t take that away from him. Not now. Not ever.

So you had to leave him behind and keep his memory deeply hidden within you. As a secret that you’d take to your grave. And this secret would enable you to keep going. Wherever you might end up. Because your years with him had been the happiest of your life. And that was something nobody could ever take away from you.

Hot tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his plush lips. You felt his warmth and the cold metal of his lip ring that was slightly digging into your own sensitive skin. You’d despised that piercing when he’d first gotten it. But strangely enough, you’d grown to love it throughout the many kisses he’d stolen from you over the years.

Now you couldn’t even remember what it had felt like kissing him without feeling the cold piercing pressing against your skin while tasting the faint aroma of metal on your tongue. It was something you’d always remember about him. Just like you’d remember him coldly staring down your enemies with those brown eyes of his that turned soft and warm as soon as the two of you were alone. There were so many things you wouldn’t be able to forget about Hoseok.

Because he was deeply engraved into you. His smell. His voice. His touch. All of him had become a part of you. Completing you in a way you’d never thought possible.

But now you had to rip it all out. Even though it was rooted deeply in your heart. It would leave you broken, bleeding and half dead. But you had to do it. Even though you weren’t sure if you were able to survive it.

You lifted your head and your fingers traced the lines of the tattoo Hoseok had along the side of his neck. He’d gotten it shortly after you’d accepted his proposal. The letters were slightly curved and rather delicate. Not something people would expect to see on a buff and broad-shouldered guy like him.

Yours.

That one simple word made your heart ache and you could almost feel your own matching tattoo burning scars into your flesh. It hurt. More than you could ever make anybody understand.

Because he was yours. And you were his.

Yet, you had to leave him to stay the person he’d fallen in love with. To stay who you really were. And to be true to yourself.

So even though it hurt like hell, you got up from the edge of the bed, walked over towards the door and went through it with nothing more than just a small bag and tons of memories.

You left the ring on the bedside table. With your heart. Your love. And even your name.

And you never looked back.

to be continued...

#monbebenet #monbebe net #wonho #shin hoseok #shin wonho #lee hoseok #monsta x #fanfiction #k-pop fanfiction #yours #yours - the series #katesfanfiction #monsta x scenario #monsta x angst #monsta x fanfiction #wonho fanfiction #wonho scenario #wonho angst

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d-noona · 3 years

Text

The Playboy Assignment

Summary:

Persuading a millionaire to part with a fortune seemed like mission impossible. Especially as the man in question turned out to be Min Yoongi - April's first love.

Eight years ago, Yoongi had stormed out of her life, believing she was having another man's baby. Convincing him otherwise, whilst sweet-talking him into helping a worthy cause, would be tricky. Even more so when he insisted negotiations take place in the bedroom! Suddenly, April was struggling to remember that the playboy assignment was business not pleasure!

Min Yoongi x Original Character

MASTERLIST

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

The sent of freshly made coffee filled the small café, and April paused in the doorway for a second to breathe her fill of the rich aroma. But one of her partners was already waiting in the back booth reserved for their staff meeting every Monday morning, so April strolled down the length of the long, narrow room and sat across from Seokjin. She winced at the hardness of the green vinyl bench. "I'm either going to have to start carrying along a cushion or convince the management to redecorate."

Seokjin folded his newspaper and laid it aside. "The cushion would be easier. This place has looked the same as long as I can remember. So unless you're looking for a challenge-"

"Any reason I shouldn't be?" April poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table.

"Only that redecorating isn't really a matter of public relations." Seokjin replied.

April squirmed on the bench. "I don't know about that. My particular segment of the public would have a lot better relations with the management if-"

"And we've already got plenty of regular business to tend to. Which forces me to point out that you're late." Seokjin's tone was matter-of-fact, without a hint of reproach or irritation.

April reached automatically for the pendant watch which dangled from a very heavy chain around her neck, "Five minutes," she said. "And I'd have been smack on time if there hadn't been a bake sale going on outside the high school I walked past."

Seokjin showed a faint interest. "At this hour on Monday morning?"

"Incredible isn't it? I thought any teenager who was enterprising enough to be selling brownies this early deserved my support." She pulled a paper bag from her briefcase and waved it under Seokjin's nose. "So I bought both fudge and chocolate chip cookies - But you can't have any until breakfast."

The waitress set an omelette in front of Seokjin and grinned at April. "What will it be this morning April?"

"Just a raspberry Danish, No hurry."

Seokjin picked up his fork. "Better make it bacon and eggs instead of more sugar, or you'll be bouncing off the walls by noon. Not that you don't most of the time, anyway."

"I didn't buy THAT much fudge." there was no defensiveness in April's tone; Seokjin's comment was too near truth to allow room for resentment. Of the three partners in BigHit Public Relations, Seokjin was the practical manager, Danie was the get-it-done-whatever-it-takes-sort, and April was the visionary, never short of idea. The fact that nine out of ten of those ideas went nowhere had ceased to bother her - because the tenth was always her winner.

Of course, that had been true all her life. For every good plan she'd come up with April Park had managed to find nine bad ones. Or sometimes, she though dryly, an idea so far beyond bad that it was worth nine all by itself. That whole thing with Yoongi. And that, April told herself, was enough of that.

Yoongi and the last of her disasters were eight years long in the past, and there was no point in rehashing the circumstances. The important thing was with two down-to-earth partners to keep her anchored to reality, her wilder ideas were squashed before they could get into trouble. Thinking of the partnership reminder her of the empty place where the third member of the triangle usually sat. "Tell me again when Danie's going back?"

"She said she was only taking two weeks off." Seokjin responds while stuffing a spoonful of egg in his mouth.

April raised her eyebrows. "You sound a little doubtful. Have you ever known Danie not to keep her word?"

"She's never been on a honeymoon before." Seokjin smirks.

"That's true." April admired the smooth glaze surface of her raspberry Danish. She was just about to take her first bite when a photograph in the newspaper Seokjin tossed aside caught her eye and made her forget about everything else. "What's Bang Si-Hyuk doing in the press?" She put the Danish down and reached for the paper. "Namjoon will be furious if he called in the media himself instead of letting the museum squeeze all the mileage we can out of the announcement..." her voice trailed off as she saw the headline.

Bang Si-Hyuk, industrialist, dies suddenly. The announcement was cool and dispassionate. Even the headline was discreet black type, not the sort which blared from the page. If it hadn't been for the photograph - outdated by at least twenty years but still unmistakably Si-Hyuk, with the enormous nose which hadn't changed an iota with age - she'd missed the story altogether.

"He can't die." April said flatly.

Seokjin glanced at the page. "Well I doubt the tribune published his obituary as a practical joke, why can't he die anyway? At seventy-eight, I'd say the man has a right."

"Because he hasn't rewritten his damned will yet? That's why! At least, he hadn't the last time I talked to Joon."

Seokjin nodded wisely. "I'd already gathered this is the millionaire art collector you've been dangling after for months."

"I wouldn't call it dangling, exactly," April objected.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow at April "The one who was so sensitive about causing speculations that you couldn't even tell Danie and me exactly who he was."

"It's not that I didn't trust you," April pointed out. "Joon was afraid if there was talk -"

"-That the mysterious collector wouldn't donate his pretty picture to Namjoon's museum after all." Seokjin flat out cuts off April.

"They're not pretty pictures." April saw the gleam of humor spring to life in Seokjin's dark handsome eyes, and she wanted to bite off her tongue. "Wait a second. Let me rephrase that."

Seokjin was hooting with delight. "Oh, All right," April admitted. "Some of them - most of the modern art pieces, in fact, are about as far from pretty as it's possible to get. What I meant was they're more than just random painting. It's a major collection, and it would mean the earth to the Moonchild Museum."

"Plus putting a finger in the eye of all the other places who'd like to have it?" says Seokjin.

"Seoul is a big city," April said stubbornly "Why shouldn't it have another big art museum?" Her Danish had cooled, and the raspberry filling had congealed. She pushed the plate aside. "Of course, it has a moot point now, unless Si-Hyuk signed a new will since I talked to Namjoon. He might have had time, I suppose, but -"

Seokjin sighed. "All right, I know better than to think your mind will settle in the week's work schedule until after you've found out what's going on at your precious museum." April jumped up and gathered her purse and briefcase. "Seokjin, thanks a million! You really are the anchor that keeps Bighit from drifting off, you know."

"Cut out the poetic language and just go," Seokjin said tartly. "Before I change my mind."

April grinned and flung an arm around Seokjin's broad shoulder for a quick hug. Seokjin shrugged her off, but he was smiling. "Keep me posted, okay?"

April feigned a look of shock at her co-worker slash best friend. "But of course. After all the Moonchild is Bighit's client - not just mine." she hurried out to the street before Seokjin could return an acid answer.

Morning rush in Seoul was no time to be hailing a cab, but today she was lucky. The taxi was going the wrong direction, but that was a minor problem; the cabbie screeched tp a halt in the traffic lane and April darted across the street and flung herself into the back seat. "The Moonchild Museum," she gasped, "and hurry."

Horns honked behind them, and the cab screeched off, flinging April against the seat.

"You want me to make an illegal U-Turn, of can I take a minute to go around the block?" asked the cabbie dryly. "What's the rush anyway? That place don't open till 10."

"I know." April sighs.

The cab driver muttered, "People watch way too much movies these days. that's the trouble. Somebody's always shouting "Follow that car" - and thinking he's a comedian."

April smothered a smile and refused to let herself be drawn into a discussion. Instead she stared out the window at the streets of Seoul as the cab sped down Han River. Despite the hour several people were already at the area, their bright smiles in the early morning breeze. The cab turned toward downtown, and soon they were in the worst of the morning rush, fighting their way block b block between the skyscrapers, through the dark cold caverns where sunshine fell. It was several weeks yet till summer officially arrived, but some of these streets would still feel chilly.

Finally the cab swerved almost onto the sidewalk in front of the converted warehouse where the Moonchild Museum had found a home. At street level were retails shops; on the upper floors were small apartments, and the Moonchild was sandwiched in between. This years goal would raise enough funds to improve access for the handicapped; April's proposal for organizing the appeal was lying on her desk. The Moonchild Museum, named for the frontier fort which occupied what later became the city of Seoul had been one of BigHit's first clients. In fact, the tiny public relations firm and the struggling museum had come to life at about the same time, both bravely taking on the challenge of competing with far larger and more established organizations.

Perhaps the similarity was the reason April had so quickly taken the Moonchild to her heart. At any rate, Danie and Seokjin had been delighted to leave the museum to her as April was to take it on.

For three years now, she'd work with the staff which actually meant, of course that she worked with Kim Namjoon, the young director. And she'd been as thrilled as anyone when Namjoon had first made contact with Si-Hyuk and learned that the old man was considering the future of the collection he'd so painstakingly built. April paid the cab driver and walked around the warehouse to the unmarked back entrance. She pressed the intercom button and gave her name, and a moment later a buzzer sounder and the lock was released. She frowned a little as she climbed the narrow steps to the museum floor, wondering if Namjoon had considered adding security. Though the Moonchild present collection wasn't shabby, it also wasn't the sort to draw the attention of thieves. But the Bang Si-Hyuk pieces would be different...if, of course, the Moonchild ever got them.

Namjoon was in his office, a small shabby, industrial green room to one side of the stairwell, and the moment April saw him she knew she didn't have to be the one to break the news. His brown hair, normally so neat, was wildly disarranged. Even more than unusual, his tie was at an angle, and the collar of his shirt curled up at the back.

"You look almost like one of your artist friends." she dropped into the rickety chair beside his desk. "The Bohemian kind who think that even owning a mirror is narcissistic."

Namjoon's hand went automatically to his hair, even as he said "That's not funny April."

"I know, I saw the newspaper." she hesitated. "It was a shock to you, too, obviously."

"Shock is hardly the word. Nuclear attack is more like it." Namjoon sank into his chair and rubbed his temples. April's heart dropped to her toes. "He hadn't finished the will?"

Namjoon shook his head. "If I only pushed a little harder! He was talking about the details last week when I saw him, and if I'd urged him to stop talking and get on with it-"

"If you pressed he might've backed out all together Joon."

"I suppose so. But if I could have just made him see that the fine points could be adjusted anytime-"

April had stopped listening. The fact that they had lost the collection was settling cold and hard in the pit of her stomach. Only now that the prize had been snatched away did she realize how much she had come to count on it. For months she'd been tentatively making her plans around the Bang collection. The announcement would be the boost to public recognition of the museum. The visitor list would increase dramatically, and fund-raising would be a snap. Of course, she admitted, not all of her motives were so entirely selfless as those. The renown would be her job instantly easier. And part of the glory of the museum's success would reflect on BigHit, and therefore on April...

She sighed. "Back to the drawing board," she thought.

"It was odd," Namjoon said. "The way Si-Hyuk was behaving last week, I mean. I didn't realize it at the time, but-"

"Maybe he was already feeling ill?" April asks.

"No, that's not it at all. It was like he was teasing me, holding something back."

Possible, April thought. It was equally possible that Namjoon's perceptions were colored by twenty-twenty hindsight. "Si-Hyuk was a world class wheeler and dealer. Perhaps he wanted you to offer him something else? Something extra, in return for the collection?"

"Then why didn't he just ask? Anyway, what else could he have wanted?"

April shrugged. "More power to influence the museum's future, perhaps."

"We'd already offered him a seat on the board."

"I know. Or maybe he was just playing out the game, for the fun of it and the attention it got him. He certainly liked having everybody dancing attendance on him." as April pulls out her fudge brownies and chews on them while she hands some over to Namjoon. Namjoon rejects then sighs. "And he waited just a little too long to get down to business?"

Suddenly Namjoon's face brightened. "You don't suppose Si-Hyuk made that will anyway, do you? Maybe he didn't tell me because he didn't want the attention to stop."

April had her doubts, but this was the first positive note Namjoon had expressed and she thought it was hardly the time to discourage him. At any rate, before she'd gathered her thoughts , he'd picked up the phone and was fumbling through his desk. "Si-Hyuk's attorney - what was his name? I've got his card in here somewhere..."

The business card he eventually produced had once been crisp and elegant, April was certain. Now it was dog-eared, the edges frayed and the type rubbed and blurred but not so damaged that Namjoon couldn't read the phone number. "I don't think he can tell you anything," she said as he dialed. "What a client puts in his will is a confidential matter."

"I'm not going to ask whether what's in his will, just whether Si-Hyuk made any changes recently.: He spoke into the phone "Kim Namjoon calling for Mr. Jung Hoseok, please."

The way Namjoon's voice deepened whenever he wanted to impress someone had never failed to amuse April. She wondered if Namjoon knew what he was doing. Probably not, she decided; the habit could well be so ingrained he was no longer aware of it. As Namjoon asked his question, he began to tap his pencil on his desk blotter at even intervals, and by the time he put the phone down the steady rhythm had almost driven April mad. She took one look at his his glum face and forgot the tapping. "I told you he wouldn't answer the question."

"Oh, he answered." Namjoon tossed the pen aside. "Si-Hyuk hasn't changed his will in years."

April sighed. "I guess that's that."

"Unless he went to some other attorney, of course."

"Come on, Joon - how likely is that? Maybe we should look on the positive side of this whole thing." April tried to laugh, with little success. "With all those valuable paintings, and the publicity we expected to get, security would have become a massive problem. We'd have been begging for handouts in the streets just to pay the guards."

Namjoon didn't hesitate. "We wouldn't have any trouble fund-raising for security."

Didn't the man have any sense of humor? April thought to herself. "Okay, so it was a bad joke. But you may as well accept the facts."

"And if things had gone right we wouldn't have had to worry securing this place at all."

April frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I shouldn't have said anything." Namjoon looked a bit shamefaced, "But oh- what difference does it make now? I'd hope that Si-Hyuk would give his house to the museum too."

April had never seen Si-Hyuk's home, but Namjoon had told her about the huge old mansion Si-Hyuk has. "And move the present collection there?" she shook her head. "It certainly makes our current troubles with access for the handicapped look like peanuts."

Namjoon dismissed the problem with a wave of the hand. "Si-Hyuk installed an elevator just last year."

April rolled her eyes. At least, she thought, that harebrained scheme would never have gone along with it. On second thought, however, she realized that there was a method in Namjoon's madness. In fact, the idea made a sort of sense. In its downtown location, the Moonchild would always be just one among Seoul's prominent art museums. But in the suburbs, it would stand alone, surrounded not by competition but by middle - higher class families with time and money for cultural activities - not only visits but art classes, lectures, tours...Possibilities poured through her mind.

"Well why not?" Namjoon said defensively. "It's not as if Si-Hyuk had a family to leave it to? Besides, his pictures were the most important thing in his life. Why not leave them in the setting he created for them?"

Reluctantly, she pushed the stream of ideas aside. It was too late for them. And too late, April thought, for sympathy to do Namjoon any good either. She said, finally, "What about the funeral? Shall we go together?" For a moment she wasn't certain whether Namjoon hadn't heard her of if he intended to refuse. Then he gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Oh, why not?" he said. "Doesn't every fisherman like to get a last glimpse of the one that got away?"

April was on her mobile when Seokjin tapped at her office door and put his head in. April beckoned him in and said, "Yes, Mrs. Kang, I know exactly how disappointed you are. I've found, however -"

Seokjin sat on the edge of a chintz-covered chair, looking half afraid that the deep, soft cushions would drag him down like an undertow. Funny, April thought, with half her mind still on Mrs. Kang, how different the partners were. Seokjin could sit like that, hands folded like the CEO of a big corporation, for hours. Danie, if forced to wait, would probably have reorganized the bookshelves. April would have flung herself on the overstuffed plaid couch and at least pretended to take a nap.

Finally she soothed he client into hanging up, and rubbed her ear as she put her phone down. "Some day," she said, "I'm going to try to hang up the phone and discover that I can't because it's melted into my ear and become a part of me." She looked longingly at the couch, but she knew better than to chance wrinkling her skirt. Linen -even black linen - showed every crease.

Seokjin smiled in sympathy. "Janna told she'd put through calls from every single member of the Moonchild's board of directors today."

"Oh she has. I can't decide whether to thank her for being such an efficient secretary, or yell at her for exactly the same reason." April's voice was dry. "Thank God that was the last of them, at least for this round."

"What's on their minds? Or did they all know about Si-Hyuk" Jin asks.

"No. Not by name, at least. But the news seems to have leaked just this morning that all hope of getting the collection has gone up to smoke, and every person who isn't running for cover is making threats instead."

Seokjin's eyebrow rose a fraction. "What kind of threats?"

"Oh, the usual noises about hiring a new director." April waved a hand. "I think I got most of the feathers soothed. Eventually they'll realize it wasn't Namjoon's fault - and also they can't hire anyone else for what they're paying him - and everybody will be back on good terms. What's up, Jin?"

"Namjoon, actually. Janna sent me up to tell you that he's waiting downstairs."

April stood up, smoothed her skirt, and slipped her black jacker on over her white snowy blouse. "Good. I mean, I'm not looking forward to Si-Hyuk's funeral, but it's better than dealing with the phone." She picked up her wide-brimmed black hat and glanced in the mirror mounted on the back of her office door.

"I know, that's why Janna asked me to come up and tell you - because she didn't want to break into your call." Seokjin paused in the doorway. "You and Namjoon look like a matched set, by the way, except you don't have a black tie and he wouldn't look nearly as good as you do in that hat."

April paused as she adjusted her hat. "You're sure it isn't a little over the top? I don't want to look like a professional mourner. But I did like the old man, and as a mark of respect..."

"You look great," Seokjin said. "If I weren't swamped with work I would have accompanied you, but work beckons and if I could wear a hat with that kind of dash, I'd never take it off."

April smiled in spite of herself. "They really get in the way when it comes to being kissed you know."

"Just as I said - I'd never take if off." Seokjin grinned and started up the stairs toward the top floor production room.

"If you stopped being picky, Jin, you'd have lines of women wanting to kiss you!"

Seokjin didn't even pause. "Really? Well, since I don't have the time for that sort of nonsense, and I'm perfectly handsome and happy by myself, I'll DEFINITELY have to look for a hat."

April made a face on her partner's back and turned toward the staircase to the main floor. Namjoon was standing in the receptionist's office, hands clasped behind his back, shifting his weight from toes to heels and back again. He was staring at the framed posted which hung near Janna's desk, but April doubted he'd even seen it, or hear her come in. She was wrong on both counts.

Namjoon stepped back from the poster and said, "I could get you something really nice to hang there."

"On BigHit's decorating budget? I doubt it." She let her gaze run over him. In his dark suit he looked really nice. He was six feet taller or so at least, even when April was wearing her heels she seemed small. She noticed his tie wasn't black it was charcoal. Seokjin had been wrong. But he'd been correct about the rest. They couldn't have matched more perfectly if they'd been dressed by a single designer. Janna, she noticed, she looked impressed.

Namjoon had a tiny sports car in front of BigHit's converted brownstone. He helped April into the passenger seat, and she tried to keep her skirt from sliding impossibly high.

"At least it's a pretty day," she said as he got behind the wheel. "I wondered why the services where delayed so long, but it worked out beautifully, didn't it? After the rain yesterday and the day before-"

Why was she babbling? The urge to talk simply to fill the silence was a sensation she'd never felt with Namjoon before, and it took April by surprise. Theirs had always been an easy and professional relationship.

"The funeral was put off for the heir's convenience." Namjoon replied.

April frowned. "What heir?"

"Didn't I tell you what I found out? The will currently in force was made more than ten years ago and -"

April interrupted with a long, low whistle. "You've put the delay to good use haven't you?"

Namjoon shrugged. "I don't know what use it is to know that Si-Hyuk left everything he possessed to a son of an old flame."

"Well well," April drawled. "Who'd have thought of it Si-Hyuk?"

"I know," Namjoon said bitterly. "It's hard to believe that somebody as savvy as Si-Hyuk didn't bother to update his will now and then, even if his financial circumstances hadn't changed. A ten year old will is ridiculous...to say nothing of his leaving everything to somebody who wouldn't even bother to cut his Hawaiian vacation short so the funeral could be held on time."

"That wasn't quite what I meant." April said. "It just occurred to me that perhaps the son of the old flame might be Si-Hyuk's son, as well."

Namjoon looked startled. "Oh, I don't think-"

"Even Si-Hyuk was young once. And now that I think about it, there was a certain twinkle in his eyes sometimes."

Namjoon snorted.

There were to be no church services, only a gathering in the cemetery. A surprising number of cars were already parked along the narrow, winding roads which cut the grand old cemetery into segments, and Namjoon had to park at a distance. April glanced from the gravel lane to her shoes and sighed. But before they'd gone far, the inconvenience of walking across grass and gravel in heels had given way to April's love of old cemeteries. She'd almost forgotten how much she loved old graveyards, full of elaborate monuments and family histories carved in stone in a kind of shorthand only the initiated could read. She'd been good at that, once, deducing from names and dates what had happened to the people who lay below the quiet soil. But she hadn't gone exploring for years now.

Eight years to be exact...

"But how do you know?"

The question echoed in her head, in an almost plaintive baritone that she hadn't heard in the better part of a decade. Funny, she thought, that she could still hear it so clearly...

"How can you tell from a tombstone that life was rough for women?" Yoongi had asked on a crisp November day, as he stood beside her in an old cemetery back in Daegu. "It's a man tombstone, at that?"

"That's right," April had said. "The monument is for the patriarch, but look on the back at the list of names. His three wives didn't even get a stone to themselves. He married them one at a time, or course, but now they're all lying here beside him, together for eternity."

"But how?" Yoongi had asked, very practically. "He's only got two sides."

April had found the comment hysterically funny, and she'd finally wobbled over to a low flat stone nearby ad sat down to recover from her fit of laughter. But in fact she'd never managed to get her breath back, for Yoongi had joined her there and kissed her...

And she hadn't walked in a cemetery since.

"What a nuisance this is," Namjoon said. "Trust Si-Hyuk to make things inconvenient."

"Shush." They were getting close to the small tent where the crowd had gathered. A soft breeze tugged at April's hat and ruffled the corned of the South Korean flag covering the casket. She hadn't known that Si-Hyuk had been in the armed services. But then April thought, there seemed to be lots of things that they hadn't known about Si-Hyuk. They were almost last to arrive, and only a few moments later a man in flowing robes began the service. April tipped her head a little, allowing her hat to shield her eyes as she glanced around the crowd.

She saw vaguely familiar faces, but no one she knew well. And try as she might, she couldn't locate any likely candidate to be- what was it that Namjoon had called him? The son of the old flame, that was it. No one stood out from the crowd. There was no row of chairs, no one obviously fighting strong emotion...

Perhaps, she thought, Namjoon was wrong and the heir hadn't showed up after all?

The service was brief. From a distant hillside, a rifle salute cracked the air, taps sounded, and an honor guard briskly and efficiently folded the flag which had covered Si-Hyuk's mahogany casket.

April watched with interest as they presented it to a man standing nearby. But all she could see was the back of a well-groomed head and a brilliant white shirt collar showing between sleek black hair and a gray pin striped suit. Not black she thought, with interest.

"That must be the old flame's son," Namjoon muttered into her ear. "Wish I could get a better look."

The pastor said a final prayer, then looked out over the crowd, drawing them all together with his gaze, and said. "Si-Hyuk's request that everyone who attended this service be invited back to his home immediately afterward, for a party."

April smothered a gasp. "That's insane!" she whispered.

"I know!" Namjoon muttered, "is a waste of money the museum could have put to far better use. A party?! What nonsense."

But instead of turning back towards the Moonchild and BigHit, Namjoon followed the trail of cars toward Si-Hyuk's home.

"Wait a minute," April said. "Sure you don't intend to go to the party, Joon? Both of us thinks it's bad taste -"

"That's beside the point," Namjoon said grimly. "Odds are the old flame's son has equally bad taste, or he wouldn't have gone along with the idea."

April thought about that sleek dark head, and frowned. "I don't quite see -"

"He probably doesn't have a clue about what to do with Si-Hyuk's old pictures. Maybe he doesn't even realize that they're important. So maybe I can introduce myself and make another stab at the collection."

"Joon isn't it time to give up?" April hesitates.

"What kind of PR person are you, anyway? We can't lose by just asking. You'd feel like an idiot if he gave it to somebody else - or threw it away because we didn't tell him we're interested."

He was right, in any case, she was going to end up at the party, since throwing herself out of a moving car was out the question for April as much of an option. So she might as well give the idea a stab.

Bang Si-Hyuk's mansion was the most elaborate that April had seen. Towers, porches and balconies sprouted from everywhere she looked. The details of ginger bread and moldings and finials had been picked out in a palette of soft greens and browns, with an occasional startling touch of red.

"It would make a great haunted house," she said. "All it needs is a full moon and a few spider webs. But I don't see it as a full pledged art museum - there can't be enough big walls."

Namjoon shrugged. " We could have build a new wing. But that's out of the question now. This house is worth a fortune, the heir wouldn't even consider donating it."

April paused. "The paintings are worth a fortune too."

"But everybody has an idea what a house like this will sell for. On the other hand, to an inexperienced eye, the paintings might not look much at all."

"Namjoon, you can't misrepresent -"

They reached the front door, standing open to the summer breeze, and the murmur of the crowed reached back inside, so she bit her tongue and resolved to have it out with Namjoon later. They stepped across the threshold into the enormous dark paneled front hall. Despite April's hat the change from sunlight to dimness blinded her for an instant. Before she saw the heir, who stood in his black almost squarely to the door, Namjoon had already moved toward him, pulling her along. His right hand went out, demanding the heir's attention, and the deepest voice she'd ever hear Namjoon use, he said, "I'm sorry we meet on such a sad day. I was a friend of your...I mean, of Si-Hyuk's. I have a bit of an interest in art too, you see."

April stared at him in shock. A bit of an interest? She thought.

"Indeed," the heir said, and his voice echoed through April's brain like the boom of a cannon.

Like a wooden marionette who could move only one joint at a time, she turned away from Namjoon toward the heir. Under the wide brim of her hat, she spotted the monogram on his shirt cuff as he reached out to shake Namjoon's hand. M.Y, it said, in delicate embroidery.

M.Y...Min Yoongi.

Yoongi, who had been the single biggest mistake April Park had ever made. Yoongi, who had prompted the most disastrous idea of a long and varied series.

Yoongi.

Slowly, afraid of what she would see, she lifter her eyes to his.

#Min Yoongi #Min Yoongi x OC #Min Meow Meow #Suga #BTS #Bangtan Sonyeondan #Kim Namjoon #Kim Seokjin #Jung Hoseok #Park Jimin #Kim Taehyung #Jeon Jungkook #Army #bts army #International Playboys #Playboy Assignment

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simontams · 7 years

Note

HEY NAT NAT BEN BEN WHAT ABOUT TORCHWOOD 🔥🔥🔥

I feel personally targeted. And I want that in writing.

Okay here goes nothing. *Rolls up sleeves*.

Warning: Will likely evolve into a long, in-depth, Torchwood analysis

Favourite Character:

I’m half asleep as it is and you go and encourage me to talk about Ianto Jones, who is not only my favourite character in this show, but probably overall.

The question is, can I pinpoint why?

Can I articulate how much this character genuinely means to me without just giving up and keyboard smashing at like 2am?

Okay, to start with, he’s not in the first two series an awful lot, however much I try to convince myself otherwise, but the development he does get is credit-worthy. And I think from the start, I was won over by his priceless expressions, sarcastic humour and sweet demeanour. Yet, throughout my numerous rewatches, the occasional bleaker episode, and low-key audio addiction, I’ve learned that there is more than meets the eye and maybe that's what makes him so interesting to me- All characters have more to them that originally assumed but there’s so many aspects to Ianto’s personality that slowly reveal themselves that you cant possibly know everything. You keep on learning and wondering about his past, his motivations, his true feelings- I’ve seen on countless occasions people labelling him as overrated and simply seen as that outside innocent coffee boy (sure, its the button on the top), but I think his clear popularity could be because a lot of people, dare I say, relate to him?

One of my favourite things about the Doctor Who universe especially and, in turn, Torchwood, is that it is real, it has real characters who have real emotions and real flaws, which shouldn't be excluded as they only add to their human degree of complexity- what would the series be without returning home to a concerned Jackie Tyler for a cup of tea every once in a while? without seeing characters reach behind that innate curiosity at the science-fiction and occasionally express fear at what is uncomfortable and unknown?

Doctor Who is not about aliens, it’s about people- and Ianto Jones is no exception. And in some ways, he can be the most human of them all- his excitement and confidence when he’s viewed as Jack’s boyfriend, his maintained calm exterior that he chooses to present to the world, his friendship with Tosh and the others, his weird habits and his humour, right up until his brutally heartfelt death scene.

Ianto Jones is one of the only characters that I am sure will remain this close to my heart, and I constantly switch between connecting to him and marvelling at how much more there is to see. Not to be too deep or over-exaggerated, but under everybody's excitable obsessions with TV shows, bands, books- there's something that genuinely helped them learn more about themselves and grow as a person behind it, they represent a certain time in that individuals life and that has to be appreciated- in the same way, that can be said for my attraction to Torchwood as a whole and towards Ianto as a character.

Second Favourite Character:

Now that we’ve accepted me as a high-key, over-the-top teenaged fan, hence somehow continuing reading, let’s move on to the impossible choice of, who do I prefer more: Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper or Jack Harkness? (I’ll mention my Gwen angst later).

Firstly Jack, will always, in my eyes, be one of the most deep and fascinating characters from what I’ve seen of the franchise as a whole- the contrast between the self-assured and flirtatious alien, the darker side of his immortality, and even the earlier con-man interpretation of his endlessly gripping character. Some of my favourite aspects of him in Torchwood are when we see him through his own outlived eyes; his loneliness or anger or even fragility, the latter being especially in regards to his relationship with Ianto and his over-arching knowledge that nothing lasts for him. And while he will always be one of my favourite characters in general, this one is a close call and I regret to view him as anything less than such- but I’m gonna have to go with Owen.

But first, let me appreciate Tosh- underestimated, brave, intelligent and affectionate Tosh, who is so close to Owen in terms of my tribute, it was near impossible to choose between the pair- in fact it still is and if asked this another time I would probably change my mind repeatedly. She tries so hard to gain approval and security, she's just genuinely lovable...and she did good.

I know Owen- apparently I’m having an Owen day- is disliked by the best of us in season 1, and some still after, I mean he is outwardly an arsehole, he's even aware of such, and the way he treats others including Tosh is inexcusable- but it’s season 2 where I genuinely fell in love with him, if not, mid-way through the first season after seeing the affects of Diane’s departure and his more sensitive self. Because like I said before- these human qualities, however negative, only add to him as a character.

When all the ‘dying drama’ goes down we realise how truly fragile he is, and in Fragments we see this to an even greater extent pre-torchwood: he's had a bad time of it, to say the least. And I will place him in second place after Ianto primarily due to this drastic turn and the realisation that he is such a prime example of ‘messed up and imperfect yet completely misunderstood’ and deep down, one of the most sensitive and caring of the lot.

I especially love when he begins to open up to Tosh and the numerous scenes in ‘a day in the death’ such as running into the bay or Ianto telling him to not let himself get beaten after all he has done, and that's also why that is one of my favourite episodes- I love this side of his character and how it contributes to him on the whole.

Character I’m Most Like:

God. Okay.

I honestly think this has to be the shortest reply yet. And for all the explanations worth, it has to be Ianto. Owen is angsty as hell, Tosh is kind and smart, Jack is tired, above everything and Gwen is adamant and sociable-

Ianto is humorous and loyal.

-Yet, somehow has the potential to be all of the other things too, and at times, has been. Which only furthers my previous point of him being relatable to most viewers at certain times throughout because of that.

Favourite Pair:

Now we’re talking.

There’s a word, a cursed, ancient term that’s been floating around the internet for a while now....: Janto.

Typical romance story, boy meets boy, boy is immortal alien, boy falls in love with welsh nerd who looks good in a waistcoat, the usual, yet...

Next, the heavy stuff :)

Ianto has so much love to give and he chooses to give it to Jack. His last serious relationship ended in tragedy and he finds himself in a casual fling with this, said immortal alien guy, who’s also...his mysterious boss. He appears genuinely happy and confident for the first time in a while and his utter joy will purify souls for many years to come.

But it’s not that simple, is it? It never has been. Because it gets serious and they can escape into their own connection outside of their work and all the other crap the team go through. They begin to understand each other on a deeper level despite their differences- and it’s fated to end in disaster: Ianto’s death.

One of the most heart-breaking yet beautiful and bittersweet factors of the show is this relationship. The most traumatic realisations? moments when Ianto acknowledges his mortality compared to Jacks curse to out-live everybody he loves (The dead line and Day 4, I’m looking at you). Maybe it’s on Jacks behalf that the extent and importance of their bond get highlighted- He unwillingly falls for Ianto and he in no way wants to recognize the unwavering sincerity of what they have, or at least publically, hence his hesitance when Ianto is proud to be seen as a couple at the beginning of Children Of Earth, because he doesn’t want to see something so good end and hurt him, again.

Also, the fact that their relationship is so private? It’s got a significant part to play when prompting the importance of what they have. Jack is characteristically flirty and outgoing, yet he keeps his feelings for Ianto close and guarded- because they mean that much to him. All of their intimate conversations- they're alone. It just develops and adds meaning and weight to their taboo ending.

That inevitably brings me onto the unspeakable death scene. I can wholeheartedly say that I have never witnessed such an emotional scene where a character has been killed off? It just, it gets to you? and I probably don't need to say that twice.

I don’t even know what it is, and I don’t care about the ‘he should never have been killed off’ or ‘he died for nothing’, god I want him to live as much as anybody, but they did choose to kill him off- and it was art.

The entirety of COE was, it was horrific and too close for comfort and one of the best pieces of television that I will ever have the pleasure to watch. Because it is raw and it’s soulful and it’s real and it breaks you- and god I wouldn’t want one of my favourite characters to go in any other way than something with this level of reputation and emotion.

The way Jack falls onto the floor next to Ianto, the ballad of Ianto Jones playing, the bigger picture of the theme of the series, them out of their comfort zone, beyond their control, influencing this, the government officials overlooking such an intimate moment, the way Jack tells them 'not him’ (that’s where I loose it, god I’m choked up just thinking about it), after Ianto tried to be the hero and stand next to Jack and help him confront the mistakes of his past- showing him that he's there for him when others doubt him, showing him that he can change and resolve it with him by his side, yet seeing that their efforts do not directly succeed? its not showing Ianto died with no final influence, its to show the extent of the bigger issue, it is out of their hands and that's why Children Of Earth is so, for want of a better word, scary- Gwen relating this degree of destruction to the absence of our established hero, The Doctor- terrifying.

How Jack wakes up and sees Ianto, how the audience see this character they've grown to love, dead, how defeated Jack looks with the knowledge that he will have to move on and can’t do anything about what had happened- it is seriously too much and can anybody who is that deeply connected to a scene, really hate on it for whatever reason?

God Jack blames himself, God Torchwood was the death of me-

you know I watched Children Of Earth over the evening of Christmas Eve and early Christmas morning? I watched Ianto Jones die on Christmas day 2015. Yeah.

Least Favourite Pair:

What the ever loving shit is Gwack.

(I like how you tiptoed around this Evie, and I just-)

Okay. I don't like Gwen.

Now hear me out, I don't like her in the first and second series. She was a cheat and I accept this as part of her character, and Owens, but it doesn't mean I have to ignore or like it- she also treat the others like they didn't understand, like they couldn't feel and aren't affected by what they see like she is when they've been through so much more in terms of their background- she is rash and selfish and Rhys deserved better.

There I said it- however, it is party due to the writing, she had a lot of potential but she can’t be treated as such a ‘nice’ or relatable character and role model, as the person who enters this alien world for the audience to relate to when she gets away with these things. But I’ll hold my hands up and says she grows up a lot come COE and in the books and audios.

Despite my feelings about Gwen- she has still got a boyfriend either way. No offence, meh, ish, but there is nothing between her and Jack romantically- if anything she merely represents the normal life that Jack cant have. The many, many, uncomfortable scenes when she stares at Jack while kissing Rhys, the flirting with who she thought was him on her wedding day, the part where he's teaching her how to shoot, its just that, its awkward and there's nothing to it. Why voluntarily choose to treat her as this person who uses people and makes excuses for herself when you can emphasise and focus on her other truly good qualities like her bravery?

Why dig for something that isn't there, they have a great friendship, why simplify that? he mentors her and she has Rhys, he has Ianto, there's so much depth to that relationship as I've been through, why choose to overlook it?

But ‘don't like’ isn't as strong a word as ‘hate’, I just don't understand why somebody would make it this hard to view her as redeemable- I know she is flawed, like the others- I just find it harder avoid and grasp why people want to further those parts of her and view it in a positive light and accept or ignore her cheating.

Gwen, I can hesitantly can get on board with, she is still part of the show I love, and while I can’t admit forgiving her I can say that her character, in turn, deserved better and while I acknowledge the problems she has, I appreciate her in COE, etc, because she does begin to develop and prove herself a bit more.

Nonetheless, I will never ‘get’ Jack and Gwen, it just doesn't rub me up the right way and seems pointless, it seems like ‘bait’ that some fans have fallen for and for me, it takes away so much of all of the characters involved and I’d rather view them for who they are rather than hinting at a negative version of who they could be.

And I'm sorry but Gwen and Owen are just bad for each other- they both deserve better than that.

Owen and Tosh? Beautiful and they should have gotten that date, they know each other so well and their death scene- why is this show so traumatic. But don't even get me started on that one-

‘Because you’re breaking my heart.’

Favourite Moment (s):

To be blunt:

Day 4- Ianto dies, yes really, #1, sorry...yeah..

Forehead Kiss, Forehead Kiss, Forehead Kiss, Forehead Kiss, (Janto, in Adam)

A Day In The Death- Owen underwater, also in top 3...

‘No, ‘cause the phones aren't working’,

Captain Jack Harkness- Jack & Jack Dance, close second

‘Who’s for Chinese?’ ft. actually eating it and having a nice time Tm

When, in fragments, Owen first enters the hub and he is talking to Jack about how he's going to try to save as many people as he can but it'll never be enough

I’m not sure of the episode, likely ‘A Day In The Death’, but Tosh and Owen have a talk, wait was it ‘Dead Man Walking?’...yeah it was...

Broken, audio- Yeah, that- the car scene where their relationship truly begins and ‘stop the car’, ‘my coffee.’

‘Space Pig, Yeah?’

Fragments- ‘Jones. Ianto Jones’. ‘Captain Jack Harkness’

Does the John Barrowman ringtone blooper count? ;)

Not to approach the unapproachable, and it's not my favourite ‘cause that's like twisted but- ‘the Steven thing’ deserves a mention just for the fact that Jacks expression will haunt me forever

‘The world’s always ending, and I have missed that coat’

Did I mention the entirety of COE?

A Torchwood Captain and an ex-time agent walk into a bar...

Virus short story, ending and the part where Ianto goes rogue and badass

The goodbye in COE- should have ended there, it lost its weight

Consider this: In the shadows audio- Ianto, he just-

‘The Sin Eaters’ audio, cat falls through lift, that's all you need to know really, isn't it?

‘house of the dead’ when its all over and somebody approached jack and he answers them but then they go away and he- ‘goodbye Ianto’

‘Gwen....mine’s got a bell’, ‘Jack and Coffee’, ‘Lost Souls, audio

Honestly I've probably forgotten moments that I mention 24/7 but these are the ones that come to mind

I warned you that it was gonna be an uncharacteristically long one

Rating:

10/10...

Did you expect anything else after all of that? For all its imperfections, this show will always welcome me back with open arms, I’ve taken so much from it and it will remain my favourite show along with Doctor Who itself.

Funny Story: 5am

I told you Evie, I did.

#TV #Torchwood #asks #other #me

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thepapergirlandthespiegelman · 5 years

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My Top Ten Favorite Video Games of All Time

As of right now.

10. Madeline European Adventures (Creative Wonders, Microsoft Windows, 1996)

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Keywords: point-and-click adventure, single player

This short, cute PC game from my childhood follows young Madeline on an adventure through Europe. The game has the same sweet, unassuming art style as the books and cartoon. You help Madeline by completing simple tasks like collecting flowers and piecing together a ripped up train ticket. The simplicity and childish wonder of this game fill me with nostalgia.

9. Spaceteam (Henry Smith, Android, 2012)

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Keywords: couch co-op, multiplayer, party game

I think this might have literally been one of the official tag lines of the game, or maybe it was in the trailer or something, but I commonly introduce this game as “a game where you get to scream at your friends.” Also, chaos. The premise of the game is that you work with your friends to fly a spaceship. Each player has a unique dashboard, and some of the instructions that appear on a player’s screen will be for controls on another player’s dashboard, meaning that everyone has to yell out their commands as they get them (while also listening for instructions for their own dashboard).

The aesthetic of Spaceteam is simple and elegant. The background music is a perfect fit. I love the uniqueness of the characters in the Waiting Room. Even though your character’s appearance has no bearing on the actual game, it’s a nice aesthetic touch that seems superior to simple sprites distinguished from each other only by color or something like that. It adds that small, additional silly moment of “I’m the pink guy with the elephant trunk and pageant queen sash.” (I also love that silly moment when playing with someone new: “Is that who I’ll be in the game?” “Nope.” “Oh.”) And the opening lines (“...as a SPACETEAM!”) are so satisfying and iconic.

I love the complexity of the controls; rather than just tapping buttons, playing Spaceteam involves turning dials, moving notched sliders, and swinging broken panels back into place.

The picture sectors are by far my favorite because of how ridiculous and diverse the verbalization that people come up with are. Sometimes it’s as simple as yelling “California! CALIFORNIA!!!” over and over again, but other times it seems impossible to communicate with anything less than “Partially drained pool on a hot day! PARTIALLY DRAINED POOL ON A HOT DAY!”

Spaceteam is a simple game and not as popular as it was in its heyday, but it’s still a fun icebreaker and party game.

8. Old School RuneScape (Jagex, Microsoft Windows, 2013)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), massively multiplayer online (MMO), third person

I never played RuneScape Classic, I only recently got into OSRS, and I only play free-to-play (FTP) because I’m too cheap with money to spend it on RuneScape and too cheap with time to try to generate enough in-game currency to buy membership. As I understand it, RuneScape has something of a reputation as a game of mindless grinding and meaningless achievement. This is probably somewhat deserved. There is a lot of repetitiveness in improving skills (“skilling”) in RuneScape, and it’s not really balanced by any creative aspect in the way that the gameplay in Stardew Valley is. There are quests, but I quickly ran through all of the free-to-play quests (with the exception of two that called for me to murder innocent people and therefore, to this day, lie incomplete in my quests list...). There’s also player-versus-player (PVP) combat, but besides the aforementioned aversion to murder, I don’t really stand a chance against even a mediocre player.

But there’s a lot to love about OSRS. While I initially cringed at the extremely dated aesthetic, I grew to love it. Is it ugly? Yes. Do everyone’s eyes look like unholy, black, triangular voids? Yes. But the same things that make it dated and ugly also make it visually interesting and unique.

What really redeems RuneScape for me, though, is the other players. RuneScape was the first MMO that I ever played, and I was really pleasantly surprised by how genuinely kind, helpful, and thoughtful the other players are. Veterans are eager to help out new players. Multiple people have given me super high value items or gold for little or no reason, pretty much out of the blue. One player asked me if I help other people; when I said something like, “Most of the time,” he rewarded me for my honesty with gp and told me to always be good to others. Another gave me gold for complimenting his outfit. Someone gave me a shit ton of runes because he had just won a game of hide and seek and I happened to be walking by, and another person gave me a piece of gilded armor for doing a trivial task.

Part of this, as one player who I talked to pointed out, might be that veterans like to “flex on” noobs, as the kids are saying these days. But I think that part of it is really just that RuneScape is a world of abundance, and when people prosper, they’re eager to share that prosperity with others. I really love that, and I wish that the real world was more similar.

That same conversation leads me to another important point of the social world of RuneScape: surprisingly long and deep conversations. Conversation with the players around you is a way to pass the time while skilling, but, then again, maybe playing RuneScape is an excuse for or avenue to conversation. As far as I can tell, it’s near impossible to find someone to have a pleasant, real-time chat with on the Internet. Sites like Omegle tend to be plagued with bots and horny men (although, actually, I once met someone on Omegle and we’re Tumblr mutuals to this day. So sometimes good things do happen). But everyone I’ve met on RuneScape seems happy to chat about the game and life and whatever else, and I’ve had some really interesting conversations.

7. Swapples (OMGPop, Web, c. 2006)

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Keywords: tile-matching, match 3, multiplayer, online

It’s not that Swapples, a fairly generic tile-matching game, is especially stunning. The game is cute and fun, but what I really appreciate is the OMGPop model. One of my favorite things about playing video games has always been playing with other people. Back in the day, my friends and I would drop OMGPop links in our Skype group chat to invite each other to play these silly games. I love the simplicity of that: no one has to make an account, or friend the other user, or download or buy anything, they just click the link and you’re ready to go. Sadly, OMGPop no longer exists, and I don’t know of any other site that does this.

6. Mario Party 8 (Nintendo, Wii, 2007), Mario Kart Wii (Nintendo, Wii, 2008), Super Smash Bros. Brawl (Nintendo, Wii, 2008)

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Keywords: party game, competitive, multiplayer

I grouped all of these together because they’re the three multiplayer Wii games that I would play with my brothers and friends when I was a kid. I don’t have that much to say about them except that playing games with people is fun!

I’m neither competitive nor at all skilled, but I still enjoyed Brawl for the following reasons:

1) Chaos, comebacks, and rooting for one player or another. I think “Stay out of the way and try to let the big guys beat each other up” is a pretty standard tactic, but yeah; it’s a good one. Even if you don’t win, you get to watch the match, and hey, maybe one of them will kill the other and you’ll survive slightly longer!

2) Badass female character action. It’s superficial, but hey, I loved playing the female characters in Smash: Peach kicking people in the face in her pink high heels; magic-wielding, gender-bending Zelda/Sheik; Samus turning into hot as fuck Zero Suit Samus after her Final Smash.

3) The drama of the story, perhaps exaggerated by my young brain, but a factor contributing to my liking of the game regardless. The idea of all of these different characters coming together to resist being forced to fight each other to the death is pretty romantic.

5. Undertale (Toby Fox, Microsoft Windows, 2015)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), single player, third person, overhead perspective, pixel art

It took me a looong time to get around to playing Undertale. I had known about it for awhile, but I only actually decided to play it after everyone on Tumblr started freaking out about Delta Rune.

I definitely wasn’t disappointed. This game is iconic.

The tag line pretty much sums it up: “The RPG game where you don't have to destroy anyone.”

Historically, I’ve had two problems with video games:

1) Too hard. Games that are too difficult are basically unplayable, and unplayable games aren’t very fun. While I get that if you work at anything long enough, you’ll probably be able to do it eventually, I’d still rather start with an easy game and work up to more difficult ones. I don’t have years of video game experience that would have improved my reaction time and hand-eye coordination and given me a knowledge of strategy. While any game is playable with time and effort, games are most fun (at least for me) when level of player skill and level of challenge are in some kind of balance (there are those masochists who will plug away at games like Getting Over It for hours upon hours, and power to them, but I am not one of them, at least not currently).

2) Too violent. This problem is twofold and relates to the above. The first problem is my general distaste for violence, even fictional. I’d rather help someone than hurt them, if possible. The second problem is that I often get bored by combat. Again, this is partially due to the difficulty being too high; repetitively training myself to improve things like my reaction time and aim seems rather dull to me on the face of it, although I now understand a little better how it could be a welcome challenge. Other times, it seems like combat boils down to just numbers (player stats, etc.), which again, I didn’t immediately see the appeal of, although I now get how it could be intellectually stimulating to calculate and strategize.

Undertale manages to craft a unique and entertaining game without having either of the above problems or reducing the game to a more visual novel-like format.

The save points (which sport the text “...fills you with determination”) feel like a promise from the game that as long as you stay determined, you will be rewarded. I really appreciate that.

This is a fantastic game. It’s sweet, ridiculous, suspenseful, funny, creepy, tragic, and inspirational. The pixel art aesthetic is wonderful. The soundtrack is excellent. Everyone, especially people who think that they don’t like video games, should play this game.

4. Stardew Valley (ConcernedApe/Chucklefish, Microsoft Windows, 2016)

Image: my own screenshot

Keywords: farming simulator, role-playing game (RPG), single player, online co-op, multiplayer, third person, overhead perspective, pixel art

Stardew Valley is a lovely, whimsical farming simulator/country life role-playing game that feels like home. I haven’t played any other farming sims (other than a brief stint with FarmVille, which I pretty quickly abandoned), but what seems to set it apart is the relationships that you build with the other villagers. They’re simplistic in some ways; a big part of the social dynamic follows the typical RPG format of “give person gift, now they love you,” but each villager’s likes and dislikes are (mostly) unique, and the dialogue and cut scenes help to make the relationship feel more real. You can even marry one of them and have children.

You also get to know the villagers’ schedules to some extent and get used to seeing them on holidays, which is weirdly pretty realistic. Predictability makes things easier to code, but human beings also just are predictable. We have routines. We look forward to holidays. The game can get boring, and obviously there are limitations in what you can do to affect things in the game that would not exist in real life, but it still feels pretty real and satisfying.

Co-op mode, in which one player can invite other players to work on their farm with them as farmhands (and may ultimately propose to and marry them, if they wish) feels like a weirdly accurate simulation of what it’s like to run a household together. You worry about money and talk about how much each person should be able to spend. You think about the relationships that each of you has with other people. You collaborate on furnishing and decorating choices. It feels like good practice for the future.

3. Pokémon Leaf Green (Nintendo, Game Boy Advance, 2004), Pokémon Sapphire (Nintendo, Game Boy Advance, 2003)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), single player, third person, overhead perspective, chiptune

My Pokémon games were me hand-me-downs from my brothers. I’m not really sure, but I don’t think that they’re the most popular ones of the series. Regardless, I loved them. I loved caring for each of my precious Pokémon, training them to grow big and strong, and watching them improve and evolve. I caught a Ralts very early on in one of the games, which is apparently quite rare, and lovingly raised it up to a Gardevoir. As a Psychic Pokémon, Gardevoir became kind of a sign of protection and positive mental health for me, a sort of good luck charm. I had a Blaziken named Peeta, after the Hunger Games character. I tried to make sure that each of my Pokémon got time to play and didn’t have to spend eternity cooped up in my Box; this wasn’t always super compatible with my other goal to “catch ‘em all,” but the thought was there. I have such happy nostalgia associated with this game and each of its different aspects: the different biomes and weather, planting berries, the shops and Pokémon centers, the Poké flutes, the different types of Poké balls, the ancient Pokemon, the thrill of potentially catching a legendary Pokémon, the music.

2. Humongous Entertainment suite - Pajama Sam (1996-2003), Freddi Fish (1994-2013), and Putt-Putt (1992-2003)

Image: my own screenshot

Keywords: point-and-click adventure, single player

The HE games are point-and-click adventures featuring a young boy with a silly superhero alter ego (Pajama Sam); a fish (Freddi) and her friend (Luther); and an anthropomorphic car (Putt-Putt). These exploration games fascinated me as a child, and the Pajama Sam aesthetic had a huge impact on me. “No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside,” in which Sam journeys through the fantastical Land of Darkness that he never knew was in his closet, is the most iconic. The game is mostly dressed in shades of purple, blue, and black, with occasional pops of bright yellow and orange thrown in. The game effortlessly tows the line between creepy and charming, with characters like two doors that come to life and act as game show hosts to test Sam before he can pass through. Beyond those two doors lies one of my favorite scenes of the game, a hallway of logic-defying doors: doors of all sizes, shapes, and colors, on the floor, walls, and ceiling. Gravity doesn’t seem to work normally in this strange, liminal space. The mines in the game, in contrast to most of the other imagery, have a lot of stark red and gold, but black border and background elements make the mines just as creepy as the rest of the game, and perhaps more menacing. Like a lot of children’s games, “No Need to Hide” also contains a lot of wacky, mismatched imagery (hot dogs as the ends of cattails, giant paintbrushes next to multi-color geysers that double as paint pots) which, in this case, can be attributed to the fact that the Land of Darkness, for all its forests, rivers, mines, and more, is still contained within Sam’s closet. The confused chaos somehow feels very representative of what the inside of a child’s mind is like.

“You Are What You Eat from Your Head to Your Feet” and “Life is Rough When You Lose Your Stuff” are similar to “No Need to Hide,” but the soundtrack improves, bringing in varying kinds of jazz music, from swing to bossa nova, as the final element tying the Pajama Sam aesthetic together.

I also have to give a nod to the first Freddi Fish game. The aesthetic of “The Case of the Missing Kelp Seeds” is similarly bizarre and wonderful. The dark and creepy junkyard guarded by an angry “dog” fish, the sketchy manta ray watch salesman, the “peanut butter and jellyfish” sandwich that you have to feed to a hostile lurking eel, the fish cabaret. It’s just really creative and aesthetically interesting.

1. Paper Mario series - Paper Mario (2001), Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door (2004), Super Paper Mario (2007)

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Keywords: role-playing game (RPG), single player, third person, player-controlled party members/allies

Paper Mario, Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door: turn-based combat

Super Paper Mario: real-time combat, action role-playing game, side-scroller, platformer

The only Mario games that I’ve played other than the party games, I used to play these with my younger brother. We’d take turns playing and watching the other person. I love the idea of Paper Mario, and of course the characters and art style are unique, creative, iconic. We started with Super Paper Mario, and I remember that one the most vividly. In Super Paper Mario, the paper version of Mario actually has the ability to go 3D, finding secret locations and paths inaccessible to those restricted to two dimensions. Something about that is just really cool to me, and it expands on the theme of exploration of all nooks and crannies (check ceilings, look under loose bricks!) from the game’s predecessors.

So much weird stuff happens in this game (note: some spoilers ahead, obviously): seemingly cute and innocent Mimi forces Mario into slavery after he accidentally breaks a vase, then later transforms into a horrifying spider monster; Mario visits the underworld and swims in the river Styx, where long, creepy white hands grab at him; there’s an entire secret alternate version of one of the central locations, “Flipside,” called “Flopside.” This game is just wild, and I love all of the different settings and characters and how the plot progresses.

Honorable mentions/good games that didn’t make my top ten: Frog Fractions, Jackbox games (Drawful, Quiplash), Zoo Tycoon, Depression Quest, The Stanley Parable, The Beginner’s Guide, Doki Doki Literature Club, Firewatch, Donut County

So that’s my list! I’m still very new to the world of video games. There are a lot of genres that I haven’t even tried yet. I’m very open to recommendations!!!

#list #video games #aesthetic #gameplay #storytelling

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justkeepshuffling · 6 years

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21 Albums From 2017 Ranked

I probably don't need to explain anything since nobody really seeks my opinion on these matters, but this isn't a "Best Of 2017" from a guy who digests ton's of releases. These are albums that were (mostly) already on my radar by bands I already enjoy and I'm listing those particular albums in order of my level of enjoyment. It's been a few years since I've done this, but I'm working overtime until 4am and what better way to stay awake and stimulated? Ah, music...

21) Circa Survive - 'The Amulet'

I literally downloaded this album and never listened to it. I think I checked out two music videos and thought, "This seems pretty Circa Survive". I technically still haven't fully digested 'Violent Waves'. Sometimes that happens for me. Someone puts out a record before I've fully absorbed the prior one and I just never catch up accordingly. My full listen through 2014's 'Descensus' did nothing for me, unfortunately. I'm not sure if these guys are doing any reinventing. It mostly feels like mid tempo monotony.

20) Maroon 5 - ‘Red Pill Blues’

This album holds a special place in my heart since my daughter really took to the single “What Lovers Do (Feat. SZA)”. When my wife told me this was her favorite song I thought she was just being a cute Mom. Winds up no matter how fussy she is, the baby stops and smiles when the opening starts. I could go on about how I miss Maroon 5 having real drums and how little James Valentine gets to let his guitar shine (especially after releasing such a beautiful signature model Ernie Ball guitar), but there’s catchy material all over the place. It’s the Adam Levine show and nobody wants to get off that money train, understandably. At least I can always think of a beautiful little newborn enjoying music with her beautiful Mama when I think of this album.

19) Kelly Clarkson - 'Meaning Of Life'

Yet another album I never got a front to back session with. When tracks come up on shuffle I'm usually impressed though. Once again, I never gave 2015's 'Piece By Piece' a full front to back, nor 2011's 'Stronger'. I was too busy being in love with 2009's 'All I Ever Wanted', which still stands as her masterpiece.

18) Less Art - 'Strangled Light'

If you know anything about me, you're probably aware my love for anything Thrice related. This band features the brotherly rhythm section of Riley Breckenridge (drums) and Eddie Breckenridge (bass in Thrice/guitar in Less Art) so I had to investigate. While the post hardcore soundtrack is within my taste, the vocal delivery, sadly is not. I'm a melody man, myself. I cannot say enough good things about the production. This is how guitars should sound. The low end is so thick and distinct. Everything cuts through. The guitars are heavy but you hear every note within the chords. Just beautiful. Hats off to the engineer, producer and mixer for achieving tonal supremacy.

17) The Killers - 'Wonderful Wonderful'

I may have fizzled out on this band with 'Battle Born', but I was hopeful. After a full once over, I don't find myself coming back to this often. Standard rock record, but maybe a little wavering and uninspired. If they continue putting out records for another decade or so, I'd be curious what gets played from this particular collection.

16) St. Vincent - 'Masseduction'

There's something about Annie Clark. When I stop and think about her entire catalog, I sometimes ponder if she's overrated. I honestly think she's just so damn cool that it's hard to say anything negative about her. She certainly has some great songs and she's a phenomenal guitarist. I tend to cherry pick with her songs. I was a bit thrown off by the creative choices on this album. I certainly don't worship at the altar of Jack Antinoff so I don't understand why everyone seeks him out as a producer (Note: his taste in women is uniquely questionable). The production is bare, all electronic drums, and less guitar than I would have hoped. Standout tracks like "New York" and "Los Ageless" are catchy but not much else gripped me. Expectations are high post Grammy win. I felt a little let down.

15) Katy Perry - 'Witness'

Speaking of high expectations... Katy's part of the pop machine now. The songwriting credits on this album are absurdly astronomical. 2013's 'Prism' was mature and inviting with real raw moments mixed in with the colorful fun. The few moments on ‘Witness’ that had real possibility didn't pop where they needed. "Chained To The Rhythm" had a ton of potential but the chorus lacked the brightness to make it stand out. It just fell flat, like most of the album. The pre-release tag of “Purposeful Pop” bit her in the ass post-release. My theory, there were probably 30+ songs written (some of which were, in fact, social conscious) but didn’t make the final cut. A week prior to the release, there were still only two titles out of about thirteen that were listed on iTunes, which I feel proves she was slighted by the powers that be. If you don't have full say in your career decisions, maybe don’t make bold statements about your upcoming album.

14) Weezer - 'Pacific Daydream'

I walked into this album expecting disappointment. 2016's self-titled "White Album" was right on par with every other self-titled color release in their catalog as their best work. Seeing another album coming down the pipe a year later that had an off title left me uneasy. This album is in a similar vein, albeit not as great as it's predecessor. It plays a bit more like a good b-sides record from those album sessions. Very worth the listen, and makes up for some of the mess that 'Hurley' and 'Raditude' left on their hands.

13) Envy On The Coast - 'Ritual'

This EP has been explained as a revisiting of old idea's through the lense of the reformed present. While Envy On The Coast is "back", it's missing three original members. When your drummer is as incredible as Dan Gluszak, it's noticeable when he's not there. I've had many discussions about how a band is never the same after losing their drummer. It's such a strong part of the blueprint. I'm not overly familiar with Dillinger Escape Plan's Billy Rymer, but the drumming on this release could have been done by anyone. Envy vocalist Ryan Hunter drummed on 2010's 'Lowcountry' with descent results, I'm not sure why they didn't go that route again. Songs like "Virginia Girls" sit right in play with where they had left off. The songs are a bit straight forward/on the nose. Perhaps some of the songwriting flare left with the eloped members. I think this release was to get the lingering idea's of the past out of their system so they can properly attack a full length album next. Considering how meandering all the post breakup projects were, I'm excited for the future.

12) Glassjaw - 'Material Control'

Fifteen years between full lengths is not ideal. Most began to give up hope on this mystery record. That Billy Rymer kid played on this album too! Unlike 2002's 'Worship & Tribute', some of the songs tend to blend together with only a few true standouts. Further parallels with Envy on the Coast include writing songs without an official drummer. With Daryl and Beck doing all the heavy lifting, I can't help but feel that when the time comes to show a studio drummer 12 songs, structure gets watered down. The tracks lack a sense of adventure, complexity, hard left turns. The vocals are buried in the mix at times, which lends itself to the aggressive bite of the guitar/bass attack. Alas, it's just nice having something come out finally.

11) Foo Fighters - 'Concrete & Gold'

As my wonderful bass player Joey P. said, "After two career defining albums late in your career, this is the inevitable letdown". The man is a wordsmith. Sad but true, and yet... it's worth noting their mediocre effort is still better than most. The Greg Kurstin production choice makes zero sense, still. I think Dave thought it would yield something incredible and people would be amazed by his oddball idea that really paid off. It did not. The musicianship is always crisp, so they can hang their hat on that since the songs aren't something you'll come back to again and again. This is sadly a mostly forgettable album by the biggest band in the world.

10) Haim - 'Something To Tell You'

I waited years for this album. Chomping at the bit. Anxious. Excited. Impatient. Guess what... I barely listen to the damn thing. I was obsessed with their debut. Every song was perfectly crafted. There's some real head scratching moments on this album. Like producer Rostam Batmanglij using an obvious vocal effect he used on Vampire Weekend albums. One song features awkward silence as a bridge. The closer "Right Now" has this off beat drum loop that is damn near impossible to follow which takes you way out of the song because you're trying to nail down the confusing timing. The girls still shine, and perhaps I just forget that the album is there but I thought with the amount of time invested in writing and recording it would be at least on par with their first album.

9) Brand New - 'Science Fiction'

The elephant in the room. Sexual misconduct allegations aside, I'm going to concentrate on the music because there's three other band members who invested everything into creating this album and discrediting them would be a disservice to their efforts. That being said, I listened to this album a lot. People lost their minds over this surprise release. I did not. I was excited, yes. But let's be clear, peoples obsessive nature for this band clouded their judgment. It's a good album. It's not the masterpiece people sold it as. Considering their penchant for reinvention via back to back releases like 2003's 'Deja Entendu' and 2006's 'The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me', which both served as career defining milestones, an eight year wait should have yielded a much more refined and impressive product. Still, this record is more tainted by Jesse Lacey's admittance of exploiting his status to take advantage of female fans more than the fact that a very good record isn't a great record. Who'd have thought that their cheeky T-shirts saying "Brand New 2001-2018" was a much more ambitious timeline than they had anticipated...

8) Portugal. The Man - "Woodstock"

Just a good catchy rock record from a great workhorse of a band. "Feel It Still" getting radio play should be a victory for us all. There's a lot of winning moments on this record. They deserve every bit of success they've worked so long to achieve.

7) Bush - 'Black & White Rainbows'

Yes, I like Bush. Gavin is the reason I switched to guitar and became a front man. Since their "reformation", this music has been questionable, at best. I hadn't realized how much Nigel and Dave reigned in the songs until they were absent from the process. Most of Gavin Rossdale's lyrics in the 2010's are complete garbage. Just meaningless phrases thrown against the wall. How many ways can one phrase "Don't lose yourself", you ask? Aside from "what the hell does that even mean?", too many ways apparently. Here's the thing about this album for me... I loved the production. The dry, tight drum sound spoke to me. The guitars/amps had a vintage pawn shoppe vibe. It was Hi-fi Lo-fi done to perfection. Then, out of nowhere... months later the album is re-released as a "Remaster" with a completely different track listing, two new songs and the lead single has an extended outro chorus. Lead guitarist Chris Traynor didn't have an answer as to why this happened. It helped the drums cut through harder and the kick became more vibrant. It was the right call. I just wish I was able to blast this album with windows down without feeling embarrassed someone's going to hear the lyrics and lose all respect for me.

6) Dreamcar - 'Dreamcar'

What happens when you mix all the core dudes from No Doubt and AFI's Davey Havok? You get 80's pop rock bliss! I was super excited to hear this album and I probably don't listen to it as often as I should. Not having any expectations or label constraints truly comes across in the music. It's the musicianship you've come to expect from Tom, Adrian and Tony with the vocal theatrics of later-era AFI with touches of The Cure, Kraftwerk, and countless other New Wave/Post Punk influences.

5) SAINTE - 'Smile & Wave'

I wasn't familiar with Tay Jardine's prior band We Are The In Crowd. I'm not even sure how I stumbled upon this band. Maybe Youtube? Either way, this 7 song EP blew me away. The production is pristine. The drums sound huge, the guitars and bass are so full, almost like an Eric Valentine produced record without the gritty/metallic/digital tinge he sometimes gets. The melodies soar, they're memorable, they're fun. I wish they had perhaps waited and recorded another 3 songs to make a proper full length. I can't imagine the challenges of being a female rock vocalist in a post-Paramore landscape but if this is a band finding it's leg's, the future is incredibly bright.

4) Minus The Bear - 'VOIDS'

I'm realizing drummers are a recurring theme in this post. Minus The Bear traditionally wrote the foundation of their records with guitarist Dave Knudson and drummer Erin Tate. After Erin's vague dismissal, they had to regroup. It's odd hearing a release without the heavy handed hi-hat work, but it still feels like a Minus The Bear album. A casual listener may not take notice, but it's certainly an adjustment with keyboardist Alex Rose taking lead vocals on 3 of the 10 tracks. While some tracks hit the mark, there's a few slow drones in the mix. The only unfortunate moment is the climactic ending on closer "Lighthouse". The "A Day In The Life" style noisy build to a cool 16-bit, glitchy, audible seizure seems like an idea they tacked on to a song that was in the same key but doesn't quite follow the songs chord progression. It confuses the musician in me. Sometimes you have to let an idea go, no matter how much you love it. Serve the song. This was a transitional period navigated better than most. The next release will be the true test of their ability to gel with the new method of songwriting.

3) Incubus - '8'

So many polarizing, conflicting feelings with this album. How do you wrap your head around an album with such catchy songs yet such garbage production? Let's start with the negatives. This album is really only 9 songs. The instrumental track is a total throwaway and the mariachi joke song "When I Became A Man" should have been a hidden track at best. If you combine the prior EP "Trust Fall Side-A", you have a proper full length to be proud of. Now let's talk production. Holy hell, it's God awful. Dave Sardy apparently made Brandon do a million vocal takes and when his voice was good and shredded, used the last wreck of a take. Guitarist Mike Einziger, a Harvard grad, and a wildly underrated and innovative guitarist had the batshit crazy idea to have Skrillex come in and mix the album. Dr. Wubwub Laptop Millionaire went even further and restructured songs and removed pre chorus' on top of it. I'm hoping for the 20 year anniversary edition of this album they'll release the album we should have received. I want to know Incubus' vision and perhaps a proper mix that doesn't sound like noisy kids trying to blow out your car speakers. The redemption? It's hooky as hell. There's a reason these guys are huge. They write catchy rock songs. There's a few odd lyrical moments, but I can get past it. Lead single "Nimble Bastard" is way to similar to the aforementioned EP's "Dance Like You're Dumb". I'm still hoping to find out the "vision" for this album. If I had to guess, they wanted a hard hitting gritty garage rock sound that was a nod to their debut full length 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.' to compliment/balance the more refined rock they currently create. Still, nothing will touch 2011's Brendan O'Brien produced 'If Not Now, When?'. This album might have been a knee jerk reaction to the atmospheric, sparse, mellow vibe of that record. I would have been equally as happy with a continuation of that mindset. Though, a hard rock record still feels right for this band.

2) Paramore - 'After Laughter'

The last time I did one of these lists was 2013, and Paramore's self titled album was my number one pick that year. Here we are in 2018, reviewing 2017 and boy was it close. So close! I probably listened to this album the most over the course of the year. Negate the artsy back patting exploration of "No Friend", which serves nothing more to the album than a self indulgent excuse to have the Me Without You singer inaudibly mumble over a painfully droning outro to "Idol Worship", and you have a perfect record. Now that we have that out of the way, we can discuss everything they did right with this album. The 80's aesthetic even has a place in the experience. After the prior albums brilliance, it was a logical move to stick with producer Justin Meldal-Johnsen. Where the prior album had bells, whistles and flourishes all over the place; 'After Laughter' has a more spacious sound. Not to say if you don't pay close attention you won't find wonderful additions all over the place, but the production and mix on this album was a bit more bare bones. The structures are simpler, the songs are dancier, and the flow is damn near perfect. The guitars shine when necessary, and the neck pickup finds it's place on the bouncier riffs. Zac Farro's return to the drum riser shows off what he learned in his time away. Groove. The drumming is not that of a rock drummer. It's someone who's peppering in rhythmic atmosphere and holding back when necessary. I was so invested in the upbeat tone of the music that I hadn't noticed the writing on the wall. The lyrics should have tipped me off that things weren't so great in Hayley Williams' camp. When she announced her very quick post nuptial split from NFG microphone hog Chad Gilbert, the information was in front of us the entire time. The dark lyricism over the backdrop of uplifting tunes is reminiscent of early Saves The Day records, which, considering the reach of their influence was likely a conscious decision. This might not have been a step forward in their sound, but a playfully necessary sidestep for a band that felt they were maturing faster than they wanted to.

1) Michelle Branch - 'Hopeless Romantic'

Oh the shit-eating grin on my face right now. I didn't expect this either. But holy effing hell! What an album! I downloaded this out of sheer curiosity. 2017 was the year of overdue albums and this one beat Glassjaw and Brand New by a mile. It seemed odd for such a big pop star to go without releasing a full length for fourteen years. Then to find out she had the Black Keys drummer Patrick Carney producing/performing seemed really interesting. Winds up the guy is incredible at producing. Every song is a perfectly crafted pop song. Not bubble gum pop, but rock songs that could all be radio singles. If I had to chose a criticism, it would be that "Knock Yourself Out" sounds too Michelle Branch-y. Like, the Michelle Branch of the early aught's. There's a vintage feel to the soundscape. The bass is plucky, the drums are dry and punchy, and the melodies are what dreams are made of. This collection has been a reminder that you can worry about a million aspects of a song, but a solid catchy melody is what we're all looking for. It's brought me back to what truly counts in song writing. A song you can sing along to. There's not much more I can say about this album. My inability to dissect this album is truly it's strong suit. When a great song works, it just works. Sometimes it comes together so quick you can't even explain the process. Imagine that 12 times over. Sometimes it's that simple.

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