#anyways the sepia kinda fucks don’t you think?

[forthehonor0fgreywhales]

Alecto Alecto my favorite girlboss

#nona the ninth #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #ntn spoilers #nona spoilers #tlt spoilers #⬅️ trying to cover everything just in case #I have no explanation for this Friday morning I woke up and just started drawing. idk what to tell you. #definitely an upgrade from my last drawing of alecto! #I tried to make it kind of similar :) #anyways the sepia kinda fucks don’t you think? #she looks like an old photograph or something

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #jjk smut #bts smut #mine

[daystens-archive]

kandreil but like kandrew and/or kevneil happens before andreil pls and thank you???

hey there!! so. writing this was actually quite satisfying. we deserved kandreil endgame fuck you and everything forever. this turned out a but long tho :/ around 1400 words or so. i feel so powerful. anyway thank you for joining my mini and kinda mediocre celebration!!!!!!!!!

edit: also on ao3

Kevin Day had always been a very organized and clean individual. He kept his stuff in place, and he tried to do the same with his head, no matter how poor the results usually were. His clothes were always folded the same, his books were alphabetically and thematically ordered. He also organized his memories very well, folded them in his mind, categorizing them as good, bad, in between, and the ones to never be revised again.

He had exactly four favorite memories.

The first one was blurry, warm colors and it felt dusty, old, like a sepia photograph. This was how he remembered his mother, bright and radiant under the sun, paler than Kevin himself but the same green eyes, with an exy racquet in her left hand, her head held high and a proud smile after Kevin had scored for the first time.

The second memory was a quiet one, Kevin getting a french word horribly wrong and Jean laughing— actually laughing at him. Between dark rooms and broken bones, Kevin had managed to make Jean laugh.

The third one was one he placed together. An old letter, the first sight of a tall man with the same smile as Kevin, the word 'father'.

The fourth one was the one that filled him with grief, but made his chest feel warm every time. His first kiss with a dead boy, or as well as. Kevin didn't think about Nathaniel often, except he did. Frightened eyes, almost Kevin's height, not one bit of shame, but a peck on the lips that was shy.

Nathaniel had been with Kevin and Riko for a month on probation. He had disliked Riko, despite Riko's efforts to be likable and accepted. Looking back, Kevin felt kind of bad for him and left him thinking, that should have been the first clue. Nathaniel had adored Kevin, though, and Kevin used to melt under the attention that had always belonged to Riko. And it seemed like it would last forever, Nathaniel being their third one, for better or for worse. But Nathaniel disappeared overnight and it took Kevin a whole year to understand that he wasn't coming back. It wasn't meant to be that way, but it was. Someone always leaves first. This was the reason he left Riko. Like Nathaniel disappeared overnight, Kevin decided this family had taken too much from him, and if he was going to die, he would do it as Kevin Day, not Kevin Moriyama.

Because the fourth memory is not one of his favorites because of the memory itself; but because of what it represented to Kevin. Someone always leaves first, and he would never be the one that's left again.

And no matter how much it seemed he would at some point after Nathaniel came back as Neil, and he kissed Kevin again —because there were some things that Kevin couldn't deny to himself, no matter how evident it was that he would lose it— as Nathaniel had come back, so did Neil.

"Satellites can hear your thoughts from space," Neil muttered against Kevin's forehead. Kevin was lying half on top of him, his hand on Neil's chest and Neil's hand on Kevin's back. He pushed Kevin's chin up and looked him in the eye. "What is it?"

It had been three months since Baltimore. Remembering it was almost like a fever dream, a goodbye promise that Kevin was meant to be number one, a phone on the ground, and a zero. Then, Neil with a burned cheek, fast words in French, and an eleven-hour long interrogation. And then Neil was safe.

"How did you even survive?" he said, softly. It was raining outside. It was Saturday, and Andrew had a session with Betsy, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to be affectionate.

Neil shrugged, nonchalant, indifferent as he was. "It's kind of what I do."

Kevin supposed it was. He could never be indifferent about it, though. The longest years and the longest hours of Kevin's life had been those in which he didn't know if Neil was alive, the clock ticking, too much happening and yet nothing at all, his arms restless from not knowing if he would ever be able to wrap them around Neil again.

"Don't you ever want to talk about it? Or, think about it?" Kevin asked.

This seemed to break Neil's careless mask for an instant. "I don't— I don't know what else to expect," he said. "I was always expecting I would die. I think more about the fact that I won't die. Is there a difference? I think there is."

Kevin thought he understood. "Like you think about the future, not the past."

Neil traced Kevin's queen tattoo as if Kevin would break, as if he was thinking about the past. "I've always thought about the right now. There wasn't time to think about the past. Or the future.

There was something unsaid.

"And now?"

Neil raised a single eyebrow, habit he had picked up from Andrew, and his gaze fell on Kevin's lips.

"Now there's time for the future."

"That's good," Kevin said.

"Yeah." Neil kissed him.

The door opened. Neil broke the kiss.

Andrew stood there, an indecipherable expression on his face. He looked at Neil, and then at Kevin, and then he sighed and headed to the bathroom. Kevin felt Neil relax under him.

“He won’t say anything,” Kevin told him.

“I know,” said Neil. Something in his voice assured Kevin that he did know.

Kevin vaguely remembered Andrew when Neil went missing. There was a flame in him, one Kevin had never seen in him. There was also the slight view of the fire that came with the loneliness, and it reminded Kevin of himself, after Neil disappeared for the first time, back when Nathaniel still existed. It was a question he had never dared to even think, but it was there. “Why would he leave me?” even when it was irrational. Even when Neil had had no choice in either of these situations.

“Andrew kissed me once,” Kevin said.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he did. Not jealousy, but perhaps anger. Possession. Again, irrational. He sort of wanted to laugh every time he remembered; not everyone was like Riko. However, he didn’t expect exact understanding.

“I think he told me he liked me once.”

Kevin blinked at him.

“You think?” he whisper-shouted.

“I don’t know! It was kinda vague,” Neil said in the same tone.

From the bathroom, Andrew said, "I can still hear you, you know?"

Kevin wondered the same thing.

Neil ignored it, as he did. "Besides, you're telling me that he kissed you. Kissed. Want to talk about that?"

That was also a good question.  

Kevin could somehow still remember how Andrew tasted, how it felt. Cold enough to burn, a cigarette of ice pressed to his lips. Andrew’s hands in Kevin’s hair— then nothing. Just a standard static in the air, we kissed, it murmured, and that is all.

"It was before we recruited you," Kevin said. “We were both a mess back then. So that happened.” He bit his lip, just a little shy. A little lower, “I won’t happen again. I messed up.”

Neil didn’t have the time to reply when Andrew got out of the bathroom, face just washed. “Am I done cockblocking you two?” he asked, and didn’t wait for an answer. He lied against the wall, way too casual for him to be indifferent about this. “We were both messed up.”

Kevin sighed. Without forgetting that Neil was in the room with them, he figured this conversation needed to happen eventually.

It had been different with Andrew. With Neil there was expectancy, adrenaline, like running away from the same devil. Falling for Neil had been a lot like a tragedy set on fire, but the smoke of it evaporated when they were together and safe. Falling for Andrew, however, was resignation. Static, background noise you couldn’t help but notice.

“I did hurt you,” Kevin said.

Andrew didn’t miss a beat. “You touched, you got too close, and you stopped when I told you,” he confirmed. “And then I closed off, got too distant. You didn’t ask me to get closer, but maybe you should have.”

“Yours was just a reaction,” argued Kevin, heatless.

“So was yours.” Andrew sighed, pushed himself off the wall, and sat with them in his bed. “Here is what happened; I kissed you because I liked you, and you kissed me back because you liked me as well. I needed space as much as you needed touch. This is not something to be ashamed of. We were not for each other at that precise time of our lives, and that is all.”

Kevin had expected, somehow, that having this conversation would quiet the noise, stop the static. It did not. He could still remember the exact amount of care with which Andrew would hold him. Not gentleness, or passion. Care. Quite similar to how Neil held him. As Kevin needed to be held.

Kevin took a deep breath, intertwined his fingers with Neil’s, and said, “And now?”

Something appeared to break inside Andrew. Kevin didn’t have time to analyze it.

“Now, you two are in a happy and healthy relationship,” Andrew said with a sarcastic edge. Neil’s hand tightened around Kevin’s. “I’m not planning on  breaking you two up, no need to worry about me.”

“I think,” Neil spoke, for what seemed ages, “that you told me you liked me once.”

Andrew’s eyebrows rose slightly in what meant he was annoyed. “Yes, your point?”

It was quieting. The noise. The rain seemed to be louder outside. Or perhaps it had always been loud, it’s just that there were other louder, deafening sounds drowning it.

As if on cue, Neil said, clearer than before, “I think that, if Kevin likes you and me both, and you like Kevin and me both—”

“I don’t need a pity free ticket to your relationship, Josten.”

“I don’t do pity, Minyard,” Neil said. “You said you wouldn’t mind blowing me—”

“He said what?!”

“Don’t interrupt me, Kev. I think I would mind. ” At Andrew’s scowl, he continued, “However, I wouldn’t mind kissing you. For now at least.”

It dropped, finally.

“I also don’t need you being a martyr,” Andrew said, but it carried no heat. It was just him, asking Neil to argue with him. To prove him wrong. Kevin could tell, as he could tell Neil would give him exactly that.

“I’m not,” Neil stated, plain and simple. “I would like to kiss you for you actually, not for Kevin.” Andrew blinked at him, Neil smirked, just a little smug. “Yes or no?”

Andrew stared at him for so long Kevin almost started to think he was angry. Then he just said, “Yes.”

So they kissed.

Andrew was almost timid; shy even. Hesitant. Neil kept his hands to himself, and Kevin vaguely remembered the first time they kissed; Neil holding Kevin’s face, his arms, his chest. Balance, Kevin thought, amazed. Neil and Andrew kissed with such a care, moved with  grace, in syntony. Neil’s hand was still holding Kevin’s when Andrew’s own hand reached out to theirs without breaking the kiss. Kevin got the most warm feeling inside his chest, a wave of infinite affection.

After they kissed, it was simple. Andrew kissed Kevin again for the first time since their terribly messed up first chance. And it was good. Neil had been able to feed Kevin’s starvation for touch, and he had given Andrew his space. It was not only care. It tasted like a victory.

When they broke the kiss, Neil gave Kevin a shallow peck on the lips and lied on Andrew’s bed in his previous position, dragging Kevin down with him.

“I can’t believe you two parasites have invaded my bed,” Andrew muttered under his breath. Kevin chuckled, because he could.

There was a certain balance in the room. Or perhaps it was between them. A certain peace. It was strange, but not unwelcome. And it was raining outside, but it was sunny as well. Neil lied facing the ceiling, Kevin’s face on his chest, Andrew’s back to the wall, holding Kevin loosely but with care while he joined hands with Neil. It was messy but it was okay. It would be. Kevin had exactly five favorite memories.

#kandreil #aftg #all for the game #tania.500 #andrew minyard #kevin day #neil josten #i worked three days on this so please read it and love it or whatever #also i'll post it on ao3 in a moment 😝😝😝 #prompts #daysten #kandrew #kevineil #should i tag ppl. whatever i'm too lazy rn #t.writing

[taiblogcomics]

Time and Time Again

Hey there, finale feels. All right, Villains Month is over (though maybe we'll look at the event it was leading up to, Forever Evil, someday). Time to get back into the series proper. In fact, I think I've reviewed this issue before! But I'm not going to look at the old review, it'd make more sense to review with the context of the rest of the series. Besides, the last thing we need is fewer things to review, that's why I'm considering Forever Evil~

Anyways, here's the cover:

As a comics nerd, this cover reminds me of that one from Infinite Crisis, where Superboy-Prime punches the barriers between reality. Maybe they're deliberately trying to invoke this. So, both Cassie and Superboy and then also Kid Flash are fighting some jerks. Bunker is also there, kinda just staring at something. Bunker doesn't get an arch-enemy, I guess. And Raven watches all this in the background, looking evil as shit. She's lit up bright red, to remind you she's evil as shit~

So we open in... I'm gonna assume Mexico, because we're showing pre-superhero Bunker. He's speaking Spanish, there's that rounded architecture style, everything's sepia-toned, there's a lizard. It's Mexico. This is the only shorthand we know. Anyways, Bunker's praying to God, apologising for whatever he's done that made God angry enough to put his boyfriend in a coma. He thought he was using his powers the way God wanted, so if there's anything he can do to make up for that, just give him a sign. And in a rarely prompt response, suddenly a bright light appears behind Bunker.

We jump over to that ultimate of evils, ancient Egypt. The comic informs us of this with the incredibly trite caption of "Somewhen else". Like, fuck off with that. Anyways, this stereotypically-dressed lady is addressing a literal army. Like, there's ancient Egyptian tanks and everything. So this must be Yu-Gi-Oh!. She refers to the lot of them as Sunturians. Not Saturnians or Sontarans. She's expositing about how they're going to attack Earth and conquer it. And a guy nearby in a hooded robe puts in a call to somebody, figuring that if "they" don't show up, Sunturian Lady might actually succeed.

The hooded guy is soon revealed to be Red Robin. I think we were going with calling him Tim Drake in these reviews, because there's been almost half a dozen Robins and we don't wanna confuse anybody. Superboy and Wonder Girl (who we were calling Cassie just because she doesn't like being "Wonder Girl" in this series) show up in response to Tim's call. They exposit about the plot of Forever Evil for a minute, to remind you that this series is on sale now, go buy it, and then Tim tells them they have 13 minutes to defeat the Sunturians before they're "yanked back into the time stream". Anybody else completely lost~?

Tim himself vanishes just after this, and the other two start beating up the army. Best I can tell, this is ancient Egypt, and the reason this army never conquered the world is because Superboy and Cassie stopped them back then. Only the "then" that the current point is, is now. Classic predestination paradox time loop stuff. Cassie is right to complain about it, though all she does the whole series is complain about being a superhero, and it's a bit tiresome. Superboy points out that she was an adrenaline junkie even before she joined the Teen Titans. Anyway, he's down for it because the only thing he was doing before the Titans was hanging out in a cloning tube.

And then they're pulled back into the timestream, and this two-page spread is admittedly a pretty cool shot. Hundreds of little panels depicting events, all arranged in a spiraling tube suspended in space. It's a cool shot, spoiled a bit by some omnicient narration. I don't mind character narration. But when the caption boxes aren't even from a character's perspective, it's a little weird. And then suddenly we're out in space, with an alien spaceship, which is where Kid Flash and Solstice get dumped. I don't know why we're time/space jumping, but I guess that's the plot now.

Solstice is deeply uncomfortable, since the stark and sterile spaceship reminds her of the Colony, and everyone hates being reminded about Harvest (especially the readers). Kid Flash has other concerns, though. He doesn't voice any of this out loud, but he recognises this ship. This is connected to his past. He's started to recover some of his memories, and so far he doesn't like what he remembers. So he dashes off to find out how this ship is connected to him, to prevent Solstice from finding out about his past before he does. This is a healthy relationship.

And the person he finds on the bridge is... himself. Except blond, and wearing a doofy white space coat. Kid Flash begs White Coat Guy not to blow up the ship, and he claims that he must do so, because the ship is carrying government reinforcements. See, White Coat Guy is a violent sort of freedom fighter. The future government is oppressive, so he's one of those revolutionaries that's probably supposed to appeal to the audience, but he instead just comes across as an asshole. Before Kid Flash can convince this alternate self not to do this thing, he and Solstice are pulled back into the timestream. That sure accomplished a lot~

So then we jump over to medieval times, where Demon Knights is no doubt taking place post-cancellation. Raven is already in the middle of fighting Etrigan. He gloats that, if he can't kill Trigon, killing one of his spawn will still be satisfying. Sorry, Trigon, it's Bizarro that eventually kills Trigon. And Raven replies that he can't kill her when she hasn't been born yet. Alas, dear Raven, I don't think that's how paradoxes work. In fact, we know it's not because of Tim's comment earlier. Anyway, Cassie shows up and breaks Etrigan's neck. What an anti-climax~

So the reason Cassie showed up is because Tim has figured out that Raven is the key to this. Everyone keeps getting shuffled around in time. But since Raven was born in a sort of "limbo" dimension, she's the only one capable of manipulating the timestream. And thus, if she tethers onto each of their souls with her own soul-self, she can "anchor" them. And so the comic ends with Raven declaring that now she has the Titans. They're hers. She possesses ownership of their souls due to this. What she tried to get with manipulation, they gave her freely. Funny how that works, eh? And won't her father be proud...

This issue is terrible mostly in that it is so confusing. Like, I know it’s been a while since we reviewed a Teen Titans comic, but this isn’t where the last one left off. Imagine if you only followed this series month to month, and how confusing it’d be if you had no idea about Forever Evil. You’d be just as confused as we are now. Like, there’s only two things that really happen in this story: we get some understanding of Kid Flash’s backstory, and we set up some evil Raven traitor shit. That’s it~

Next week, it promises we find out how they get out of this mess in the Annual. Oh, that’s nice of them. Because they sure didn’t bother showing us how they got into it~

#comics #reviews #Teen Titans #Taiblog

[renaroo]

SO... about that Titans Trailer...

Okay, so I wasn’t. Planning on giving this a review but then I watched it and you gave me an excuse. So. Here we are.

I hate teen drama shows but I live with my younger sister this summer so I’m constantly hearing them in the background and I know that I’ve not heard this weird song before but I also know that they allllllllllllll sound like this so there’s already. That creeping sense of 

Oh fuck it’s Riverdale isn’t it

Like. Costume design for superhero shit isn’t easy, you’ve got classic superhero looks that are purposefully garish and meant to stand out while celebrated costumes in visual mass media are toned down and realistic, fitting the style of setting. You can honor both traditions at the same time, what it requires is picking a color temperature for your set’s lights that are less noir mood piece and more lit like a musical. I actually think Moulin Rouge! is a movie where the cinematography deserves more credit for getting that mood balance because it’s definitely what I think of when I’m thinking of ideal lighting and color palettes for superhero live action. 

Marvel’s gotten a little better at figuring this out in the post-Iron Man 3 movies but they went a little too flat and bright in the first Avengers and too drab and dull in movies like the first Thor and the first Captain America.

The whole reason I’m thinking of this is because DC has never once figured this out save for Wonder Woman which had its coloring saved by choosing a sepia-esque lighting that wasn’t Sn*der-saturated so that Wondy’s costume and Themyscira in general popped while the warfront was still diferentiated but earth tones. I would actually point to DCEU movies being the pennacle of trying too hard for realism to the point of being visually embarrassed by their motifs. Which is also why the CGI rendering is always horrible in their movies. Suicide Squad was a little better but almost bipolar in how it snapped abck and forth between color saturation.

Anyway, this is a TV show and you would think that because TV shows are lower budget and more closed sets generally that this would actually be an advantage for the iconically colorful Titans teams because they’re likely to have warmer and flatter lighting choices. Except teen dramas lately haven’t been about that. They’re much darker and “more serious” and they mostly demonstrate that by darkening the lights and having everything go to dark blues with light temperature. That might work well in some places but it’s not good if you have multiple characters you want to show off with different color schemes that are wildly different from each other let alone from the blues. You can do it, but usually that involves introducing additional light sources to combat the darker lights, which is why in our Riverdale case study you have neons show up a lot, especially at Pop’s restaurant. Those neons introduce a “natural” secondary color and lighting source that helps make different hues exist more naturally in the environment without being garish and misplaced. 

I can tell that at no time is this show going to put an iota of thought into any of this sort of detail because in this BLUE ASS SHOT of this trailer they have Raven’s purple hair look like it’s been photoshopped in by me -- they managed to make an already cool color like purple look unnatural in a scene that has cool temperature lighting. This is going to be shot like complete shit isn’t it. 

What time am I at--

FIFTEEN SECONDS???

Dick’s a police officer so that’s a positive. I like the actor’s smile too, he looks just. Very Dick Grayson-- hahahahahahahahahhaahahahahahahahahahahahaha

oh my god

oh my god.  Was that supposed to be Robin jumping over rooftops in the background. Is that what that was. IT WAS AN UNMOVING BLUR. IT JUST KINDA WAS DRAGGED ACROSS THE SCREEN I CAN’T--

Oh jesus. Did Dick Grayson just step on someone’s neck and break-- FUCK BATMAN

FUCK BATMAN

HAHHAHAHA

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

I was wrong -- all that shit I started with? Obviously I was overthinking. This is a glorious comedy.

Okay all that aside we get rapid montage which is supposed to wow us with cameos for DC diehards and impress us with the quality of composition of shots and the special effects quality for people like my sister who don’t care about Comic Con because I’m playing trailers loudly on my laptop while she’s rewatching Pretty Little Life of the Secret American Teenage Drama Queen. 

It does none of these things. It’s no longer a comedy, it’s depressing because all that shit I said about the colors and mood lighting and temperature increases rapidly when you have terrible CGI transformations Beast Boy and... fire spouting... Starfire. Hm. Someone took that name a little literally didn’t they. 

Wait

Is that Dove. From Hawk and Dove? Killing people?

Um. I mean none of these characters save for Starfire and Raven are really all that down with killing under any circumstances in comics but Dove in particular... like why have Dove as part of the team if you’re not going to bother with the Avatar of Peace part and the eternal conflict ongoing of wanting to use tremendous powers while promoting nonviolence. I know this is something I tend to care more about than most people with superheroes, but that’s literally the only reason to have Dove in anything ever. A great example would be the single Justice League Unlimited episode involving Hawk and Dove which tackles that exactly. 

Who makes these live action decisions for DC. Is it Joffrey Johns? I bet it’s him. It has to be on some level. 

Oh my god this music is so bad. I listened to nothing but emo music for a solid 18 months of my life and my favorite band to this day is Nightwish and I find this unbearable. 

I 

what

Evil inside of me I kinda like it. I mean. I guess. That is... a conflict for Raven to have sure.... But it’s also way more boring and tedious than it was in the 80s? Like. There’s five million supernatural teenage dramas that have already done that exact conflict But With Vampires or But With Werewolves. I should know! My sister watches them in the background! I know all about Diaries of the Teen Dog Vampire. 

I’m hip

Oh and that scream. Okay, so also in film there’s this thing called a sound board and there’s a lot of cheap, royalty free sound mixes and noises that if you pay attention to editing and sound design there’s some sounds that have been really overplayed in media lately because people are too cheap to have their foley artist record a sound for themselves. 

That scream that Raven just did that you know you’ve heard before is one of those and there’s nothing wrong with it I guess it just. makes everything about this feel cheap. The writing’s cheap. The characterization’s cheap. The lightning’s cheap. The character design is cheap. This god awful song is cheap. 

they broke the glass

THEY BROKE GLASS. IS THAT FOR ME? WAS THAT MEANT TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER BECAUSE THEY BROKE GLASS IN THE TRAILER. alright fine two points to Gryffindor. 

That puts them at -80 so everyone clap

Welp that was definitely a Thing I watched. Hope everyone enjoyed this educational review.

#long post #opinions opinions opinions #Rants of Unusual Size #Titans Right Back Atcha #theazureesper

[videogamesincolor]

What’s your assessment of Sheva as a character/how Capcom has written her?

NARRATIVELY

For the most part, I have minor issues with the writing forSheva as far as her character is concerned. Throughout Resident Evil 5,she comes off as the more level-headed, and resourceful of the characters you’re allowed to control. She wascompetently portrayed and struck the right kind of balance that made LeonKennedy such a personable character for people to become attached to and projectupon in Resident Evil 2 before hebecame a literal Supercop in Resident Evil 4 and Resident Evil 6.

The major complaint I have is that her background contains a bit about her being as a child from an impoverished family that was exploited in a factory owned by Umbrella, then murdered by said Corporation. Mostly because it plays on and relies so heavily on the stereotype of the total population in Africa (as viewed by media in general) as impoverished and easily victimized by outside forces for the sake of less than genuine drama.

But, as far as tragic back story fodder goes, the death of her parents is a good motivator, and her vendetta against the Umbrella Corporation (later and Excella) is extended beyond Chris’ revenge kick and need to save Jill from Wesker’s abuses, which isn’t something I was ever emotionally invested in on account of not caring about Chris unless Claire was around.

I think Sheva has the strongest backstory and relevancy tothe story Resident Evil 5 chose totell. Given Sheva and Josh Stone are the only characters in the game with a personal investment in what happens to West Africa, they could’ve done something with the angle of an American Corporation (Umbrella) exploiting foreign territory and communities for profit if they cared about approaching the subject with any kind of care or respect (but silly me expecting that from an RE game /s).

There’s clear distinction about what the narrative considers important or a priority, and it’s not necessarily what’s happening in to the people who’ve been exploited by Excella and Wesker. Chris is a stranger running around West Africa, while Sheva is watching someone fuck up her “backyard” as it were. For Chris it’s just a job, and later it becomes all about Jill and Wesker. In that sense, Sheva’s function as a character is to allow Chris to redeem himself (from not saving Jill from her self-imposed sacrifice) and relearn “the power of teamwork”.

The game doesn’t do enough to incorporate Sheva’s backstory into the game beyond her telling Chris her parents were murdered by Umbrella, and Josh saying that Sheva is like his little sister. It’s disappointing because I kinda wish they had done something with her history as a teenage militia turned US government agent, instead of having her behave as though they had absolutely no one to rely on (other than Josh) when she goes rogue with Chris.

Sheva’sentire motivation is avenging her home, the BSAA operatives that workedalongside her and Josh Stone, and stopping Excella, the owner of the parentcompany (TRICELL) who is implicitly involved in the deaths of her people. Shevais the emotional anchor for what was happening in the fictional arenas of WestAfrica (Kijuju in particular), but Resident Evil 5ain’t interested in all that (regrettably).

A lot of people use Sheva wanting Chris to return to base (IIRC) with her after fighting that giant ass troll monster as an example of her lacking commitment to her job or cowardice. But, I think the scene encapsulates Sheva using plain common sense, whereas Chris is the pure embodiment of Rambo at this point (all action, no plan whatsoever).

If Sheva has any other problems as a character, it’s that she’s at the mercy of a narrative that doesn’t care about its harmful portrayal of West Africa, and the consequences that come with falling back on vitriolic anti-Black stereotypes.

Resident Evil 5 is a game obsessed with the American War aesthetic presented in films like Black Hawk Down, and Tears of the Sun.As far as scenario designers for Resident Evil 5 are concerned, West Africa is just exotic background fodder for their white protagonist to march about and Sheva, even with her own stake in the narrative, is plot justification for his being there. 

VISUALLY

Up front, I like Sheva’s character design. I think it’sthe right amount of cool when you pair her casual wear with a bunch of combatgear, knee high boots, and a gigantic gun that is her weapon of choice. I alsothink the color lavender did a great deal to make her visually distinct (as theywanted) from Chris, Mr. Green.

Thinking more critically, her design is perhaps overlyfocused on attractiveness verses functionality with regard to her profession asa BSAA operative, and they drive that message home with her hyper-sexualized alternate costumes, which have more or less reduced the character to nothing more than a porn fetish for people who use Gary’s Mod, Xnalara, and Source Filmmaker.

Where characters like Rebecca Chambers (RE0, RE Remake), Sherry Birkin or Helena Harper (RE6) and Jill Valentine(Lost in Nightmares) seemed designed around their given situations or presentcircumstances of their jobs, Sheva stands out like a sore thumb as the onlyfemale character in RE5 who wasn’t.

Obviously, she’s not the first or the last female characterto have this happen to in the franchise (Everything Ada Wong wears, Jessica Sherawat and the Ms. Cleavage from the original Revelations are perfect counter-examples), but it’s kind’ve glaringgiven how Jill was portrayed in the Lostin Nightmares DLC.

The design template for Sheva becomes even more questionablewhen you consider how her fellow BSAA operatives are dressed when you finallyencounter them in the game. Everyone’s ready for combat situations, but Shevais out there looking like she rushed to work after a night out and forgot heruniform.

Nothing about Sheva’s character design says she’s from theBSAA. I’d say the only concept for her character that might’ve reflected herposition in the BSAA was probably the beige militia design with the short sleevesand red turtleneck (nix the hat). Otherwise, she kinda falls into the realm of“sexy girl”, but it’s not egregious like Trish’s Blackface costume (“Gloria”)from Devil May Cry 4.

In terms of character design, when they weren’t batting forcomplete and utter photo-realism like they are now with the RE-Engine (resignedsighs), I really think Sheva’s character design and the overall approach theytook to designing characters in RE5 (sans Chris) standout as the best that thefranchise ever had to offer. There’s no uncanny valley like there is with RE7and it’s not completely animated like CodeVeronica. It struck a perfect balance and Sheva is without a doubt the bestrepresentation of that as a character.

As a fair-skinned Black female character – (who wasoriginally designed with a much darker complexion than finalized) – washed outby the ugly yellow/sepia filter in ResidentEvil 5, Sheva comes off as a bit suspect when you consider the grandmajority of your antagonists (parasite infected civilians that reflect theimage of absolute poverty often associated with the continent of Africa) aredark-skinned. (Josh as the only major positive representative of dark-skinned Black characters in supportive terms is kinda not a great look.)

Juxtapose her against the really ugly anti-Black images presentin the game, and Capcom’s design template for Sheva comes off as extremelyproblematic. Kinda tells you just how deep the colorism problem is and whatdevs perceive as “good” and “bad” within the spectrum of Blackness.

It’s also probably interesting to note that Sheva’scharacter was intentionally designed to instill a sense of protectiveness inthe player. And, yes, the kind of protectiveness that Crystal Dynamics soldreboot Lara Croft on. 

They literally banked on Shevabeing “feminine enough” to the player that they’d want to protect her from harm(they also wanted her slender, which is why she probably doesn’t lookparticularly buff, like, say, Nadine Ross from Uncharted 4.). It’s acomplete disassociation from how well she actually was handled in the endproduct. She is notthe incapable damsel that production statement implies (to me).

OVERALL

Considering Sheva was originally a NPC in one of the earlieriterations of Resident Evil 5 andsalvaged from whatever they abandoned to become Chris’ BSAA partner, Sheva turned out to be asolid character for the franchise’s original direction. 

At her core,Sheva had all the right material to be a longstanding protagonist in the Resident Evil franchise (just like CarlosOliveira) before they entered the RE6 and RE7 era and shot themselves in thefoot.

I don’t think Resident Evil 5 should’ve been about Chris Redfield and his grudgematch with Albert Wesker. There was enough material riding behind Sheva’sentire backstory, the BSAA and her relationship behind the incidents going on Kijujuthat you could exclude Chris and make the game entirely about her and JoshStone’s exploits. Excella could’ve been the Wesker to her Chris, Josh her Jill.They are walking protagonists stuck behind mainstays and that sucks.

Sheva is untapped potential in a franchise that isscrabbling to save itself from irrelevancy and publisher mistakes. She is the strongest new character Capcom managed to produce in their later franchise. She definitely made a better impression than Moira Burton, DietWesker (Jake whoever), Helena Harper, Piers whoever, and the whole cast of the Revelationgames.

Sheva is a character I would’ve liked to have seen make a return, but I’ve well accepted she ain’t comingback to the central franchise as a lead (like I want her to). She wouldprobably end up getting FUBAR’ed anyway if Capcom ever decided to believeher presence worthy of their time again.

#videogamesincolor #sheva alomar #resident evil 5 #resident evil #resident evil series #lord jesus its a long post #meta: asks #colorism #anti black racism

[cybermoonmoon]

"...My Life of Crime"

First of all I should say that I had forgotten these events for the entirety of my adult life. It's memory as so much else was triggered by a dream. "Once Upon a Time..."I was breaking, and entering. Well not "breaking", but most certainly entering. Back in the old days getting into a house was as easy as opening a window,...which I did. 

When I was a little boy I used to "enter" other peoples homes. As with all crime this was motivated by want. I "wanted" to know how other people lived what their stuff looked like what weird things they were doing. Also if they had candy. I wasn't poor...well not 'very' poor.  

Anyway I didn't get a lot of treats. 

So these were part of the temptation. One house I explored turned out to be a Fort Knox of the stuff!  However I didn't take any. In fact I never took anything on these adventures. That wasn't the point .I was on the prowl for more 'serious' game. I was an "Other", and I was searching for other Others. 

Mind you I could never have explained any of this to my folks or the cops. I didn't yet have the intellectual bullshit, and double talk for that. To the adventure. I chose my homes almost randomly. Hey I was a ten year old kid not a for real cat burglar. The treasure I sought was intangible. The only vague  precaution was making sure the houses were empty. This was the early 1960's so most everyone had some kind of job. So the whole neighborhood was fair game. 

Block after block of doll houses to explore. I left the homes of friends alone. The houses of strangers was where the real adventure was. The unfamiliar the mysterious. Places of different light touch, and smells. Every structure a new world discovered. 

Oh the moral obliviousness of the very young or as J.M. Barrie put's it at the end of "Peter Pan". "When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter, who is to be Peter's mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless." Yep that was me alright. You too so cut me some slack in this story. 

In these secret adventures I saw myself as  one of the wandering explorers of old. Peary at the North Pole or Amundsen in the Antarctic. Oh dreams dreams, and fantasies. To the Heart of the Matter. Family albums. After a time my hunts focused on these. The photos told me in quick detail what I needed to know about who lived in whatever house I was "visiting". The who what, but sadly never the why of these lives I was searching through. 

The albums I found were generally stored in the same place in house after house. The bedroom closet or close by. So there I would sit on a stranger's bed studying their histories looking for my tribe. Again I couldn't begin to explain to anyone what or why I was doing this. It was an instinctual exploration for un-namable things that I needed. That I was in desperate "want" of. 

The pictures. I was surprised at how similar they all were. Grandma auntie babies somebody in the Army the beach, and birthday parties. These albums were all just like mine. However on occasion there was a surprise. One time I unknowingly entered the house of a nudist family. I started through their album. 

"...!!!!!!"

Good bleeping grief! I literally at that point in my life had Never seen the like! There they all was...auntie mom, and dad, and all the kids Nekkid as hell! These folks was "Other" alright, but not the Other I was looking for,...I think.

Close calls.

Yeah there were a few of these. One time I was quietly moving through this kitchen. Kitchen windows of that era, my usual port entry, might as well have had "Welcome" mats in front of them. 

Anyway I'm doing my rounds when I see an old lady sleeping on the couch in the living room. To kids old folks look dead when they're asleep. Which is what I thought she was,...till she moved. I back stepped to the window I came through. 

In another I'm on my way to the bedroom to peek through their family album when I hear the front door open.  I'm fucked. I'm going to "Juvie" Hall. I'm going to the Chair. I'm going to a firing Squad. I'm going to be forced at gun point to eat my greens for the rest of my life. My heart is pounding through my Mighty Mouse t-shirt. My lunch is coming out'a my nose, and I wanna wet myself.

Damn! 

Some lady, and her kid just came home, and is headed for the kitchen with it's open window which I just came through. This is rapidly turning into a nightmare version of "Mayberry RFD". One where Deputy Barney Fife in Klan robes kicks the living crap out of a junior negro perp in the holding cell. Hey I was ten, but I knew the real world score.

Looking back my only hope was that the lady was a Liberal Sociology Professor who would understand my quest, and ask Deputy Fife not to kill me. More likely she was married to a corrupt Teamster with a drinking, and violence problem. My odds didn't look good. My heart pounding lunch coming, and ex-Pepsi running down my legs. 

I quickly hid behind an old 1930's screen room divider. They was all the rage once...Google them. Well,...they walked right past me.  ????!!! 

Oh the perceived safety of the home. No one expects danger or ten year old boys hiding behind old furniture. They went to the kitchen, and I went to the front door left, and ran for my life. To this day that boy must be telling his grand kids about the time he, and their great grandma surprised a deranged killer in their house. Of such are family legends born. 

After this earth shattering event I laid low for a time. However being a kid, and stupid though full of grace, and innocence. I went out again. 

Several times in fact. I think I "visited" 10 or 12 homes during my life of somewhat disturbed, but sincere explorations. In all these visitations I never found my other "Others". I would have recognized them. I didn't know precisely what I was looking for, but I would have known them when I found them. I don't know what I would have done if I had though. I hadn't thought that far ahead. 

...ask to be adopted? 

Well these outings ended on an interesting note. I did one more visit. This time it was in the Oort Cloud of my neighborhood. You know that the part of your 'hood that borders the unknown regions. The place if you were there alone you'd be lost.

This one was different. It was a very old frame house. Before this it was all regular Brooklyn  Brown Stones like my own home. This one was perhaps a surviving farm house. The borough was partly farms till the turn of the 20th century. No kitchen window this time. I entered through the back door which was unlocked. It was like stepping into a sepia print. The light was dim amber. Peeling wall paper. Pictures on the wall of people dressed as folks did long long ago. Dust, years of it covering dark furniture. There was no one home. No one had been home maybe since before I was born. 

The house wasn't abandoned not in the 21st century sense. It was owned...one could tell, but not lived in. It was also cold in that place. I had a chilled tingly feeling standing in there. Much as I, and a friend from school had when we stumbled on an old grave yard in Prospect Park. 

When Fredrick Olmsted graded, and arraigned the Park he left certain historical sites intact. A certain Colonial graveyard being one of them. I knew nothing about it. Most still don't, but we stumbled into it. Stumbled in, and got the same feeling I had in that old house, "...Leave".  Today I'd say it was spirits. That or what some researchers now think are impressions left on physical objects by persons during extreme emotional events. They say this explains what traditionally are thought to be ghosts. ...maybe. 

Anyway the Spirits were saying "Don't Disturb". I didn't. I left. So ended my short life of Crime. I never did find a family of Anarchist Beatnik Weirdos to adopt me. However several years later....'But that's another story for another time. 

The End,...mostly. 

*(As with all of my personal stories they're guaranteed to be more or less kinda true. In this case I did indeed "visit" peoples homes when I was ten years old. The events described did happen,...mostly. I changed a few details to makes things run smoother, and be somewhat funnier. Even though I wet myself a few times.  Otherwise this is what happened. Think of this as a Docudrama.)

Maybe I'll pitch my very odd life story as a series to HBO.

Stay tuned.

[mint-sm]

LOS CAMPESINOS! REVIEW/ANALYSIS: Romance is Boring

Let’s talk about a word for a minute: Tryhard.

In an (at the time of writing at least) mildly recent interview with Noisey on the subject of this album, lead guitarist Tom Campesinos! (Tom Bromley) described “Romance is Boring” as “probably the most self-conscious record, and it's probably the most try-hard record as well,” describing it as a reaction to that whole “twee” and “pop” label they were most popularly recognized with from “Hold on Now, Youngster…”, and even after the release of “We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed.”

Like I said on my reviews of both albums, I feel that “Youngster” was an excellent release if only for the sound it ended up with, and not necessarily the band’s initial visions, which would then be addressed and accentuated in “Doomed,” which more clearly defined the groundwork that the band wanted to pursue underneath the indie pop exterior roof formed with “Youngster.” With this album, “Romance is Boring,” they definitely wanted to challenge that idea even further; become more experimental, create much more blaring, aggressive songs in unusual time signatures and beats, with more complex and detailed production alongside Gareth’s self-deprecatingly bitter, but intricate and atmospheric lyricism. In other words, “Romance is Boring” was a self-imposed challenge, and if they wanted to be “try-hard,” they succeeded.

At the same time though, Tom seemed to be somewhat disappointed about what the band would make in the future in comparison to this album, saying “I would never make songs like that again, at the moment I'm not in that frame of mind where I would, so when I listen to them I'm like 'shit I can't believe we made this'.” The sad truth about trying really hard to be as fucking wild and complex-sounding is that it might be something you never wanna try again because you might never, ever reach that adrenaline-fueled mindset you were in to originally craft it again in the future, and as we’ll discuss with “Hello Sadness” next time, reality just might hit you hard enough to stray away from that.

It’s a shame, but as an artist who often gets fatigued of just trying to work on a passion project for years that burns out for a while after releasing a thing, I can sympathize a bit. Creating and experimenting is very tough, and it takes a lot of time, and you will be often be surprised as hell by what you make in the end, but at the same time it can be really straining, only made bearable by sheer passion and emotion (mostly frustration, it sounds like) that, sad to say, can dissipate just like that, and getting it back isn’t something you can just “do.” And “Romance is Boring” is passionate and emotional, and the experimentation clearly did pay off, but was their process something they should be willing to go through again? Well, I don’t know Gareth and the band well-enough to decide for certain, but I’m gonna say… probably not?

CAN WE ALL PLEASE JUST CALM THE FUCK DOWN!?

But anyways, let’s talk about “Romance is Boring” itself. Simply put, as you probably might have inferred from other reviews, “Romance is Boring” is my favorite Los Camp record. They put a lot of fucking effort into this album, likely more than with any other record they’ve ever made, and it shows. It contains basically everything I think the band excels at, and even the parts it doesn’t normally do the absolute best in, they do exceptionally well here. Witty, poetic and dense lyrics, blaring, catchy, and diverse instrumentals, wild and conflicting yet consistent moods, and hauntingly vague but vivid imagery following and exploring complex and dissonant themes and narrative, such as the idea of falling in love, disappointing mental anguish, depression, creepiness, selfishness, bitter sarcasm, and regret, among others. It sounds a lot better than the emo shit it just came off as, honest.

The album is much more narratively flowing than “Youngster” or “Doomed,” and as you might expect from the title, it’s about romance, but not necessarily in a completely despondent way as it also might imply. While an overall theme it provides is one of dissatisfaction and heartbreak, once again, Los Camp’s ability to simultaneously yet fluidly meld together multiple diametrically opposed emotions shines through here.

The second track, “There Are Listed Buildings,” is a very good example of this, because the instrumentation is by far the poppiest and free-flowing track on this album, almost “Youngster”-ey in quality, with these cheery “BAH BAH, BAH BAH, BAH BAH BAH, BADDADA” choruses with what I think is a tuba or trombone, and just a wonderfully-sounding electric guitar riff pre-chorus, it all feels so bright and carnival-ly, and honestly, so are the lyrics, which are playful and strangely optimistic for the band. I think it’s about a like a couple deciding to actually pursue a relationship, with lyrics like “I think I'd do it for love, if it were not for the money / I'll take any scraps that you can give,” which is made honestly kinda cute and sweet-sounding in a sepia-tone, sarcastically hipster kinda way.

I REMEMBER BEING NAKED TO MY WAIST, THOUGH NOT IN WHICH DIRECTION 

[YOU ARE A GLUTTON FOR LOVE, CAN YOU GIVE ME SOME ROMANCE? I'M A GLUTTON FOR SIN]

However, the opposing feeling from this song comes from the exact details and the context in which this song ends up in, because other lyrics seem to reflect more of this idea that the girl is actually really a little too desperate because “You dangle fishing line for crabs, but they're not interested /  I'm your only bite,” which kinda reminds me of that XKCD comic discussing that “nice guy” that at first seems sweet and caring for a lonely girl but is actually disturbingly manipulative and creepy as shit (which some people unfortunately seem to unironically agree with). Plus, as was shown by Los Camp songs before and after, Gareth has simply never believed that “true love” exists, and this budding relationship is uh… yeah, it’s kind of doomed to not end well.

It’s made so much clearer with the song right after it, the title track, and I just love it for how utterly SPITEFUL it is. Whether these characters played by Gareth and Aleks are supposed to be the same throughout the entire album, I don’t know, but this relationship has gotten incredibly bitter and sarcastic, the instrumentation is so fucking blaring and distorted and crashy and violent at times, and the chorus features the band absolutely screaming “YOU'RE POUTING IN YOUR SLEEP, I'M WAKING STILL YAWNING, WE'RE PROVING TO EACH OTHER THAT ROMANCE IS BORING,” it’s so gleefully hateful. I don’t think I’ve heard many tracks of a mutually mentally abusive relationship that sounded this damn cathartic.

WE ARE TWO SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT 

YOU AND I, WE ARE NOTHING ALIKE 

I AM A PLEASURE CRUISE, YOU ARE GONE OUT TO TRAWL 

RETURN NETS EMPTY, NOTHING AT ALL

Really, I could go on with these tracks all day and pick apart the little intricacies of each song to dissect how great each one is, because this is probably the absolute densest Los Camp has ever gotten instrumentally and lyrically. There’s so many little moments as to what makes every track work so much, and rarely is it just as straightforward as the title track, but even when it is, the production and poetry just feel so incredibly potent, it’s essentially like instead of listening to a song and being gradually surrounded by atmosphere, “Romance is Boring” fucking clocks you with it.

Just getting out of the way, I think maybe the least experimental track on this album is “Straight in at 101,” because instrumentally, structurally, it really does feel the most straightforward, even with little moments with like a sudden blast of distortion at one point or how it immediately goes from feeling bright and upbeat to somber, then complete silence as Gareth sings about how “the talking heads count down the most heart wrenching breakups of all time / imagine the great sense of waste, the indignity the embarrassment when not a single one of that whole century was mine.”  It, and maybe “A Heat Rash in the Shape of the Show Me State; or, Letters from Me to Charlotte” are probably the most “standard-sounding,” or like baseline to Los Camp, which doesn’t mean they’re bad, but yknow.

I’d still consider it a very strong track because it’s still very consistent, it’s got a very continuous but evolving groove to it, and the lyrics are still jam-packed with wordplay and description that paint just this really fucking selfish, but also really kinda(?) sympathetic narrator, who makes his utter disappointment with what I’m assuming was a one night stand very clear. Los Camp is a very self-aware band and Gareth’s a very self-deprecating writer, but the way he manages to be both really ugly but astoundingly relatable, and also so mean-spirited to a point where you can’t help but really laugh at how much of a shit he is is kind of admirable.

I THINK WE NEED MORE POST-COITAL AND LESS POST-ROCK

FEELS LIKE THE BUILD-UP TAKES FOREVER, BUT YOU NEVER TOUCH MY COCK 

AND WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU MEAN NOW BY, "WHAT CAN YOU EVEN EAT?" 

AND HOW DOES THAT AFFECT HOW I'LL GET OFF THIS EVENING?

Two of the most unusual tracks that I both love from this album are “Plan A” and “I Warned You: Do Not Make an Enemy of Me” (goddamn that title just makes me so giddy for some reason), with “Plan A” being probably the harshest, off-sounding and most punk-like track Los Camp has ever recorded, with its atonal, distorted mashing chords and screaming call/response vocals (it’s so fn weird hearing Aleks sound panicked and frantic, but goddamn I miss her) before suddenly segueing into like this sing-songy, but still distorted and oddly free-flowing, almost twee-like chorus, and ��I Warned You” sounding so stilted and awkwardly tense yet cheery with its weird tempo and beat shifts, almost feeling kinda outsider-music-y at times.

BROKE DOWN LAUGHING AND SCREAMING FOR MORE 

BUT IF THIS CHANGED YOUR LIFE, DID YOU HAVE ONE BEFORE?

Another personal favorite track is the intro, “In Medias Res,” which starts off the album just perfectly, starting with like these gentle, but already kinda already compressed and messy acoustic guitar chords before slowly building up into this like surprisingly reverbed, ethereal and charming instrumental, with a backing that almost sounds like it came from like a shoegaze or dark dream pop track, but with like this really, dreamy and cute duet vocals and glockenspiel. It sounds so oddly saddening yet so weirdly uplifting, especially with that little breakdown near the end with all the distortion effects placed against the glockenspiel, keyboards and brass; I’m pretty sure you can hear at some points Gareth screaming some lines, but it’s so blended-in with the instrumental, but it sounds kinda… beautiful.

And the lyrics, oh god, the lyrics. For some reason, the first and last lines just have so much damn atmosphere loaded into something that just feels so… simple. I can’t explain it without the context, but the very first line, “But let’s talk about you for a minute,” just really gets to me for some reason, probably because within this album itself, it just says so damn much about its themes, that while incredibly toxic and awesomely angry at times, can also get really intimate, melancholy, and depressing, especially with the song’s outro lines:

“IF YOU WERE GIVEN THE OPTION OF DYING PAINLESSLY IN PEACE AT FORTY-FIVE, BUT WITH A LOVER AT YOUR SIDE, AFTER A FULL AND HAPPY LIFE, IS THIS SOMETHING THAT WOULD INTEREST YOU? WOULD THIS INTEREST YOU AT ALL?”

Keep in mind, Gareth believes that true love doesn’t exist.

And in a really cruel reality, despite how playful, giddy and sarcastic or self-deprecating it can be dancing around the topic, Los Camp STILL can’t prove to us that heartbreak, however, isn’t anything but incredibly real. The final 3 tracks on this album (not counting the bonus track, “Too Many Flesh Suppers”) perfectly reflect this mindset.

The fan favorite “The Sea is a Good Place to Think About the Future” is simply put Los Camp’s most beautiful, poignant track they’ve ever made (and also one of the most devastating and emo), and it serves as one hell of an emotional climax for the album. While Los Camp hasn’t really been one for imagery and instead prefers mood most of the time, this track is the perfect marriage of the two; everything about it just seems to paint this incredibly vivid mindset about a depressed, suicidal and utterly broken lover (if it’s the same one from “There Are Listed Buildings,” it’s even more so), who I can just imagine is like sitting on the far end of a dock on a very gloomy beach with gray overcast and an sea, maybe like rocking her legs back and forth sitting on the edge with her feet just touching the salt water as she just stares hopelessly out onto the endless horizon. Y’know, happy stuff.

The lyrics on this track are just some of the most utterly concise and madly specific descriptions Gareth’s ever written, with simultaneously pointless yet (ugh I normally hate this word in this context but) deep and precise lyrics, and Gareth’s vocal delivery just slowly escalates to this heartfelt, like pouring-out-his-soul-in-desperation, perfect climax. Everything about this track just works, and it plunges you into this visceral, atmospheric world of gray skies, salty seas and contemplation, where it really does feel like that the sea is a great place to think of the future… or maybe a lack of one.

SHE SAID ONE DAY TO LEAVE HER, SAND UP TO HER SHOULDERS, WAITING FOR THE TIDE

TO DRAG HER TO THE OCEAN, TO ANOTHER SEA'S SHORE, THIS THING HURTS LIKE HELL... 

BUT WHAT DID YOU EXPECT!?

But like I said, Los Camp likes to dance around these sort of maudlin themes, and immediately after one of the bleakest tracks they’ve made, we suddenly get more cheery, upbeat, and snide in “This is a Flag. There is No Wind,” whose first lyrics are literally the band shouting “CAN WE ALL PLEASE JUST CALM THE FUCK DOWN!?”, singing another almost-kinda-sorta indie-twee track about a couple stupidly in love, but we all know that it’s all unhealthy and it’s going to end poorly, right? Like, any song about love that has the chorus “The story of the winter I forgot how to speak, my mind was like a nation's flag but my breeze was too weak / How they dragged me to the hospital saying I had gone deaf / But I heard everything they said, it's just I had no interest,” no matter how crowd-pleasing and roucous and glockenspiel-accompanied it sounds, can’t have a story that ends well, right?

Well, considering how the album ends with “Coda: A Burn Scar in the Shape of the Sooner State,” a much slower, a lot more ethereal-sounding ballad with the lines “Run the water 'til it scalds, you know that I'm listening / Pitter-patter runs the shower, hits the bare porcelain” and “I fall to my knees, my piss-soaked jeans / The first time, the last time, all the times in between”... it’s probably safe to assume yes, it didn’t. Actually, considering “The Sea is a Good Place” and the chillingly repeated outro of “I CAN’T BELIEVE I CHOSE THE MOUNTAINS EVERY TIME YOU CHOSE THE SEA,”  it probably ended VERY horribly. And… that just fucking sucks, you know?

Goddamn, there’s still so many tracks I didn’t cover, but damnit, if I make this any longer, this is gonna just turn into a track-by-track thesis paper, since there’s just so much to talk about. These are basically the major elements I love the most and find the most worth-addressing, but the thing is that this entire album feels worth addressing, because once again, it’s just so damn packed with just about everything I feel makes an album work in my eyes. There’s not a single track that’s not worth analyzing and appreciating, but christ, there are only so many hours in the day! D:

BY NOW IT'S JUST THE THREE OF US

ME, YOUR SHADOW, YOUR ECHO

“Romance is Boring” is just a fantastic album. It manages to contain all of the things I feel an album needs to be heavily engaging, and the fact that most of them came from a band who normally doesn’t do that great in some of those aspects such as actual concrete description or instantly recognizable context makes this feel all the more surprising and welcoming.

And that’s where it all comes down to: it is just really, really engaging. It’s powerful without being overbearing, it’s noisy while being incredibly and consistently precise, it’s descriptive while being pretty accessible, and it’s varied but also manages to maintain a consistent sound Los Camp have finally pinpointed down as that which can be identified as uniquely their own. It plays up the band’s unique strengths just enough that you never feel alienated or feel forced or anything like that, and not only is it as adventurous as the band might ever get, it’s one hell of a fucking adventure. Hail try-hardiness. (5/5)

...So what happens now?

FAVES: “In Medias Res,” “There Are Listed Buildings,” “Romance is Boring,” “We’ve Got Your Back,” “Plan A,” “Straight in at 101,” “Heart Swells/100-1,” “I Just Sighed. I Just Sighed, Just So You Know,” “The Sea is a Good Place to Think About the Future,” “This is a Flag. There is No Wind,” “Coda: A Burn Scar in the Shape of the Sooner State,”

#los campesinos #romance is boring #music review

[fundeadasylum]

okay well now that im not buzzed and depressed, i have some thoughts about batim chapter 3 that im putting under the cut

just me thinking out loud, does contain spoilers

everyone seems genuinely surprised that alice turned out to be “”evil”” but i mean this is a horror game, what did you expect

also i got kinda major bioshock vibes from this whole part of the game, which leads to my next point

alice seems to have gone mad, just like sammy and just like how it sounds like joey drew did at some point something is corrupting these people and i’m betting it’s that ink flowing from the Ink Machine

it kind of sounds like people were fused with the ink joey mentioned in one of the audio recordings something about immortality and you can’t kill toons so why not just make everyone a toon only it looks like it didn’t go quite right?

alice said towards the end of the chapter that the boris henry was with was “perfect” and we know there were dozens if not hundreds of other boris’ and butcher boys all over the place but there’s clearly something wrong with those butcher boys that we run into what makes this boris perfect? was he fused correctly? why are there so many boris copies? is joey or the ink machine itself trying to create perfect replicas of the cartoon characters?

im saying all this because i have a strong suspicion that alice is actually susie campbell

or what’s left of her anyway

just based on alice’s dialogue and the audio dairy where susie mentions she liked it when joey drew called her alice joey sounds like he went a llliiitttllleee bit insane to me, by the way

the other thing is the Projectionist i see a lot of people saying it’s norman polk but did we actually get confirmation of that?? anyway, like sammy, it seems the Projectionist was also corrupted by the ink (in the play through i watched, the player avoided him so i didn’t see what happened when you got caught in his light) im actually really curious about him

alice also seems wary of The Ink Demon and given the post credits image, i’m willing to bet that that’s our lanky demonic friend who i suspect might actually be what’s left of joey drew himself alice doesn’t seem to like joey OR bendy and seems pretty keen to keep the ink demon away from her (also she seems to HATE henry, maybe because he’s still human? maybe because she associates him with joey?)

i don’t think joey just wanted to bring his cartoons to life i think he was aging and didn’t want to be, i think he wanted to be immortal and what better way than to become his beloved cartoons the guy already sounded like he was half nutso in the first place so it’s no great leap in logic to assume he did some demonic bullshit and fucked up the studio and everyone still in it

so who’s the antagonist here? can’t be alice, she’s in the same position as sammy and the projectionist, half mad and corrupted, warped by the ink maybe it’s joey? right now all signs seem to be pointing to joey but who knows for sure

on a separate note let me say something about THE GAME PLAY

GOOD GOLLY COULD YOU GET ANYMORE TEDIOUS

the layout of chapter three was a maze which, if used right, could have brought some really epic scares and kept up a really dramatic tension and fear as it was, the entire thing was monotonous and got old really, really quick

i understand that this is a very small team working very hard to get this game out and man alive do i appreciate their effort the game is gorgeous and im in love with the story, obviously

but it IS a game and it has to play like one repetitive hunts through the same area are...boring going into the projectionist’s part of the level was the most interesting and had the most dramatic tension, i think it could have been done just a little bit better but it was still really, really good and is probably my favorite level design of chapter three that being said, the rest was boring as fuck i get that you have this sepia toned, old black and white cartoon thing going on but it all looks so uniform after a while, you can push those shadows to slow the player down and create tension, add more blind corners, more ambiance besides the ticking clocks and chugging pipes

one of the things that always frightened me about bioshock was that i would HEAR the splicers before i ever saw them it made me tense up, it spiked my fear because i was then expecting them to attack and that made me wary of every single little thing, and the longer i went without being attacked the more nervous i got or i let my guard down completely and got the ever loving piss scared out of me

like i said, i know this is a very small team and the work they’ve done so far is AMAZING and the game is awesome and i really love it, i really do

but the gameplay for chapter 3 was disappointing and boring yes, we got a nice chunk of story, but there was really no reason to send henry running all over the the same damn area four or five times instead of building up the tension for something we never got to see (alice actually making use of the shit we brought her), it totally killed any tension that might have been there in the first place the initial appearance of the butcher boys was frightening but after a while, they stopped being scary too, there was no threat from them or the other ink monsters running around, i never felt that threat, i didn’t have a reason to be scared of them when they were so easily defeated

also there was all this talk of the ink demon showing up if you were noisy and stuff at the beginning of the chapter but????? he never did???? alice kepy talking about finding a place to hide but???? there was never a reason to???? there was absolutely no threat?????? the lack of ink demon/bendy was really sad tbh

anyway, i carried on with this long enough

i loved the atmosphere for some of chapter three and i am so very happy we got a nice, big, juicy chunk of story with it congrats to themeatly and the development team on another excellent installment of bendy and the ink machine! i can’t wait to see what you guys do next!

#shut your mouth sage #this is...longer than i meant it to be...ah well

[lifeinsidenarnia]

More depression stuff!

So I travelled to Dubai for my sister's athletic quiz, which is supposedly a good "change of scenery" which is said to help with that sorta stuff. Dubai is sorta... dull? I don't know, I had to literally look up the pride flag on my phone to make sure I didn't fuck up my eyes(I accidentally banged my head really hard in the hotel) and wasn't seeing everything in sepia, because everything looks like a sepia filter at night, and like those weird B&W pictures In which some colours kinda show through at morning; it’s very...industrial? I mean what did I expect of DUBAI, Anyway, it’s not helping since the very nature I have around me keeps me calm and stable for some reason.

all around me are cheerful people, adorable couples, and laughing children; which is so beautiful, yet fills me with resentment that I just don't want there. And the whole "stay up till you fall down so you can't think" thing isn't working anymore, and all I want to do now is sleep, I could sleep the whole day if it meant I wouldn't think about anything. So there's that. I wish a lot of things were different, I wish I was straight, I wish I wasn't getting suicidal thoughts on a fucking vacation, I wish I had love, and there's just so much I would change if I could; I'm better off with being someone else altogether. Anyway, I can't wait to go to sleep, so goodnight, anybody reading this, I sure hope things are brighter on your side of the screen.