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#since the eps start on the hour that will make it easier to join in the middle
girlpash · 4 years
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TODAY, Saturday September 26, at 2pm EST, we will have our first fandom watch party. Please join us on Twitter in watching episodes 7-10 together as a fandom using the hashtag #TeenageBountyParty.
The first episode (1x07) will start at 2pm EST and every following episode will start on the hour (so 1x08 at 3pm EST, 1x09 at 4pm EST, and 1x10 at 5pm EST).
The cast will be joining us in live tweeting, and we encourage folks to tag Netflix in all of their tweets! Teenage Bounty Hunters has not yet been renewed for a season 2, and this is a way to let Netflix know that fans want it and are willing to fight for it.
For more information, please check out @renew_TBH on Twitter.
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xsarcasticwriterx · 3 years
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Au Volant-part 1
Summary: You were free, you had control until bucky and Steve showed up at your door.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: Angst, swearing, minor tfawts ep 2 spoilers.
Notes: This is a series btw and I'm not sure how long it'll be (not like I do for any of my series) and yea that's all just know it will be pretty....dark pfft. Also, this does NOT fit in the marvel timeline even if references are made to such.
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Steve knew when he was out-matched, hell even before the serum he knew when he'd lose he just didn't know when to stop. Bucky did though and nothing about that had changed in 100 years. Not even now when steves ass was being handed to him. after getting bucky back steve and bucky had gone off on their own mission to find other super-soldiers who may still be alive. of course they expected this to be easier than it was.
Of course, bucky could've just brought steve to Isaiah Bradley but he still knew steve would be pissed after finding out what had been done to him and he just wanted to leave Isaiah to his own thing still.
Then there was you. Bucky met you back when he was first becoming the winter soldier. you were their first test into becoming one of them. of course, your trigger words hadn't been finished before you killed those who were working on you and escaping. it s why they advanced buckys mechanism. You'd had tried to free him but they were already in the works of triggering buckys words.
Bucky knew you were free but only by self-discipline and no one knowing the words aside from hydra who, by this point, you'd spent the last century running from. He wanted you to stay out even if he knew where you were at.
That was until now, they needed another super soldier to win. Sure he could call Isaiah but as far as triggers go you were more likely to not only survive this but even join it. So with that process bucky grabbed steve ignoring his words and ran to your house.
you were 95 years old, despite how you looked. you had managed to escape hydra. Ever since hydra fell you ere truly free for the first time in a long time. you had enrolled in college majoring in history, ironic yes but you figured with your overextended life maybe you could use it and become a history professor.
This was your plan until there was a knock at your door. you figured it was the pizza you had ordered until you opened it seeing a bloody avenger and the weapon that hydra used over and over again to kill people. So with that you slammed the door, locked it, and walked back to your living room. "y/n come on" you heard bucky say. "nope" you yelled back.
"I thought you said shed be willing to help?" you heard steve groan. "I never said willing I said she could help" bucky replied. steve sighed "look y/n I know-" steve started to say "you don't know shit about shit star-spangled man with a plan," you said back.
"I spent the last 70 years running from this man ok. Now I know he is back to Sargent Barnes or whatever crap he was before but guesses what it does mean I am willing to just jump back in the man who was on my ass trying to kill me just yesterday, and it sure as fuck doesn't mean that I am willing to jump back into war" you wished they just go away. You were finally free safe. "steve go" "huh?" "go ill be back with you in a few minutes" and so steve walked away out of hearing distance. bucky said down but your door.
"look y/n I know what you've been through ok. I know they hurt you because they hurt me too. See this difference is I was a soldier before this...you were just someone in the wrong place wrong time. Me and steve here are looking for the others those who were like us, set them free too. Though they seem to either be like you, Isiah, or are still trying to fight. now I'm here because most are trying to fight and they're gathering together and fighting. I don't blame you for not trusting me I get it, some days even I don't trust me but know that I never wanted to hurt you." bucky cleared his throat "I am James 'bucky' Barnes and you are part of my amends" bucky said before the door opened and he fell back.
You stuck your hand out "give it" you said which bucky only looked up at you confused. "come on there's only so many therapists for brainwashed murderes give it" you said again. bucky handed you the tiny book. you opened it and crossed out your name handing it back to him. "get up and get your boy toy over there to come inside. I need to get ready if we're going to war." you said walking upstairs. "so you'll come?" bucky asked. "sure James why the fuck not but be aware you may be fixed but I'm only free out of pure will, soon as someone says the words I'm no longer free" you said walking to your room.
Bucky opened his notebook writing down ten words. he handed the paper to steve. "what's this?" he asked looking down at the words in both Russian and English. "her trigger words. just know as soon as there said she's one of them" bucky knew the words. hydras orders were if he found you to trigger you. "so she's not...." steve trailed off "nope she's only free out of self will" bucky shrugged sometimes he wished he had been able to be like you. "is it safe to bring her?" steve asked fearing what would happen if you became like bucky. "ill be fine" you said from the top of the stairs. you were wearing your gear which consisted of a black long sleeve made out of bulletproof gear that you stole from the police, black leggings for movement, black boots, and a hoodie. your hair was out of your face and you had your daggers on one side of your belt and your guns on the other.
"don't be a moron and say those words and everything will be fine," you said walking down. "now what's the game plan what do I need?" "what you have and spare clothes and weapons," Steve said. you nodded walking to your garage where the rest of your knives and guns were at along with your disguised clothes. "so you said that the soldiers are grouping up and fighting. know why?" "There are only rumors some say they want new hydra, others say they're scared some say they are forming a 'better' hydra," bucky said following you.
you grabbed a bag stuffing clothes in and ammo along with some daggers. "so are we staying with the rest of the little einstens?" you asked turning to steve. you were met with two confused faces. you blinked, how on earth are you, a person on the run, more educated on pop culture than these two "its....its a kids show" you said clearing your throat "im asking if were staying at the avengers headquarters" you said awkwardly. "oh no were tracking the group and certain people, those suspicious and then we just stay in hotels" steve said. you nodded and walked to the front door. "lets go then shall we"
you two got into steves car. "so how come no ones ever heard of you if you were on of them?" steve asked. "got out before i become one fully they never were able to trigger me" you shrugged. "she tried getting me out but...she was too late" bucky looked down. steve shut up from that point on. you all drove to a motel close to where they had seen a few people hiding out at from the sights of it.
the motel was kind of well really bad, not quite what you expected when rolling with the avengers. they said it was to stay undercover, large purchases and such could trigger that someone famous is rolling in. So here you were sat on a rigidy bed in the motel. there was 2 beds but 3 of you so someone had to share. "not it" steve said flopping back onto a bed. you and bucky looked at each other. "come on you two have known each other for almost as long as buck and I" steve said sitting up.
you grumbled sitting on the bed before sighing. not like you slept much so maybe you wouldn't have to actually share the bed. "for tonight we will fill you in" steve said. you 3 sat at a table and they told you the information they have and what they're plan is.
They said how they have a few places where they think people are hiding out based on the hours of activity and a few spots look like people are hiding out there. They said their plan was talk until people started noticing bucky and then chose to fight, then they came to you. Now their plan was talk but with back up incase shit takes a turn again.
Bucky and steve had gone to sleep but you were still up sat at a table. you were sharpening your daggers. you were zoned out for a while at this point. you didn't sleep often due to fear that if you let your guard down you wouldn't be able to hold back the soldier part of you. you really only slept when you were on the verge of passing out. This started when one night you had a dream, not long after you escaped, of the man saying the words. you felt your whole brain shift, luckily you woke up and were able to push back before anything happened. since then it was too close of a call to risk anything ever again.
You saw movement and looked up seeing bucky look around in almost a panic before he saw you. his breathing steadied "hey" he whispered out of breath. you nodded to him "you ok there?" "hmm? yea why are you up isnt it late?" you looked at the clock. last you looked it was 12am. you shrugged "same reason your up" "guess being brainwashed has its cons" you huffed "ysupposeou could say that"
"you sleep at all" bucky asked standing and walking to you. "i sleep when i feel like im going to pass out" you returned back to sharpening your daggers "last time i casually slept the world almost had another winter soldier" you scoffed "never doing that shit again" you looked up at bucky. his hair was a mess and a thin layer of sweat covered his chest. he was definitely muscly and you'd be lying if you said he wasn't hot.
"you should rest ill watch over you make sure you don't change" he said looking at you. "no its fine got another" you looked down at your watch looking at the date "few days before i pass out" you shrugged. "y/n. sleep" he stated. you shook your head. bucky groaned, walked to you and threw you over his shoulder "come on sleep time" he said putting you on the bed. you groaned but soon as you were laying down you felt your eyes insticntly close. "stupid body" you grumbled
soon slumber took over. bucky smirked down at you. you two were one in the same except while he was forever free you, you were free on pure will and keeping your guard up. "ill keep you safe doll, no one will change you even yourself" he said brushing the hair from your face. soon he felt as peace seeing you so calm and he laid next to you. the bed reminded him of the ones in the military. sleep took him over not too longer after.
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ghost-wonder · 3 years
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Why Oliver March is My Current Top Suspect for the Leader (Even though I love him)
Buckle your seatbelts kids and get ready for my hot mess of a PH theory. I wasn’t sure where to put this and I just wanted to get my thoughts out. I’m in the last year of my media studies and production degree so I’m putting my 3 years of tears to use and have been brewing this theory since reading 85. Now let me clarify: I adore March, but the more we see, the more suspicious I become (especially with ep. 82 & 85), and while many think this may mean death or something tragic, I’ve been thinking of the possibility it’s something much bigger (Note: lots of speculation here so prepare for a lot of what if’s and I’m only using content up to ep. 85).
My thought process regarding the leader:
The leader is a rather dehumanized villainous entity. With them being anonymous and the reader not having a face to place with the actions, it’s easier for us to take the leader’s actions at face value. We are provided no means of sympathizing or empathizing with their actions and instead, our story follows characters who have been traumatized by said actions.
Therefore, to provide readers with the greatest impact, the leader would likely be a character who up until the discovery of them being the leader, the reader viewed them positively. A character already humanized. Already trusted. And this would be both in terms of how the reader views that character, as well as other characters in the story. It would leave the reader reeling, trying to figure out why such a character would be the leader.
And keep in mind: PH has used this approach with Harvey; the audience liked him for the short time he appeared before being caprisunned and we were shocked to discover his involvement in the PS. Additionally, we’ve had characters dehumanizing and humanizing with Kieran. He’s introduced as this deadly assassin who kills brutally, with the greatest death toll in the PS. But he becomes humanized through his interactions with Lauren, so much so that both the reader and Lauren forget his occupation and are provided a chilling reminder in ep. 43. However, even after those horrible events, as we learn more regarding his character in season 2, we begin to empathize with his actions and reactions (though we don’t condone them). It demonstrates a duality, a mix of light and dark, seemingly contradicting one another. Because people are complicated.
This is also why I can’t buy into the idea that Tristan or Stefan is the leader, in fact, I don’t think either one is even involved with the PS. For Tristan I think he comes off suspicious because A) he’s meant to be a red herring but B) LAUREN’S PARENTS WERE APOSTLES AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE DID NOT KNOW. THEY LEFT AT ODD HOURS OF THE NIGHT ALL THE TIME AND LIKELY GAVE LAUREN TO TRISTAN TO PROTECT HER FROM THAT LIFE. HE PROBABLY THINKS LAUREN IS PS. But anywho. As for Stefan, he’s already been villainized through his treatment of William. The audience doesn’t like him for this reason and is then inherently suspicious of him because they dislike him. So for me, it feels too obvious. (I have an additional theory that he was involved with the print shop shooting, assisting Lizbeth (from what’s alluded in 64 with Lauren’s parents and 68) as chief of police but that’s for another place another time.)
What we know about the leader:
- It’s a he
- Has to be part of the older generation (would have needed to be an adult about 15 years ago)
- Was a member of SD
- Knew Lauren’s parents
- According to Hecate, he is closer and more similar to Lauren than she thinks
So why March? (It’s not just the villain scar)
- His speech to Kym and Will in 60 had me SUS. It felt very contradicting (he acknowledges the flaws in the system while saying they must continue their jobs, which is valid, but his phrasing was still off to me) and generally in any mystery drama if I see a character go on a moral rant of sorts, my sus radar is dialed up to 11. Unfortunately, we don’t know how much of it was true and lies because Lauren wasn’t around but if he is the leader I’d find it so fascinating if everything he said is the truth. The idea that this terrorist does have sound morals would be SO INTERESTING and kind of fitting? The leader having a strong sense of justice or strong morals would make him more similar to Lauren as Hecate said. But more on Hecate later.
- As confirmed by 85, he knew Lauren’s parents. He even says they worked together on cases. Through their work together, did they start to realize the flaws in their system? Was there a case that was just too much? SD formed?
- The death of his daughter does kind of fit the SD timeline. (She died in xx11 the pamphlets are dated xx14 but SD was likely formed slightly before the release of the pamphlets but that's not yet really confirmed). We don’t know how her illness killed her (could be class-related. Like because of their class status perhaps they didn’t have access to the resources that could have saved his daughter? Who knows. He said they did all they could. March is likely middle class similar to Kym but we don’t know for sure. And even if he is middle class we don’t know if this was always the case, like if he was middle class at the time of his daughter’s death.)
- Additionally the death of his wife. The date is blocked and as others have theorized I find it very possible it could have been SD related. But this sentence is chilling: “She fell into the bloody hands of criminals that have been plaguing Ardhalis for too long.” March doesn’t specify these criminals as the PS. So could he mean the royals? (Literally everything he says to Lauren in ep. 85 could have a double meaning and it bugs me so much like he never specifies the criminals he’s referring to. And everything he says sounds like the monologue of a villain who sees themselves as a hero because they haven’t realized how far gone they are. But that’s just me. ) If she died in the print shop shooting could this have been the catalyst to drive March to become the leader and start the PS? Losing your daughter and wife is a lot to take and could drive anyone over the edge. Point is: if any of this speculation is true, it would give March motive for becoming the leader.
- Also March mentioned how Lauren reminds him of his daughter which could then explain why Lauren hasn’t been touched by the PS cause at this point the girl should have been caprisunned a while ago if she wasn’t being protected from the inside.
- To build on that as well, if March is the leader then he has kept an eye on Lauren since she joined the force aka since she would have become problematic for the PS (cause you can argue being the daughter of apostles may not automatically make her a threat since she was a child at the time. But being the daughter of apostles and joining the police force to take down the PS? Now that’s an issue). March says in ep. 60 that Lauren was one of his recruits meaning the leader could have had his eye on her the entirety of her time in the APD. Just something to consider.
- And going back to Hecate's words, he’s more similar to you than you think. March and Lauren share (seemingly) similar morals and additionally he is close to her just as Hecate claimed. Also if any of my speculation regarding the deaths of his wife and daughter are correct it would have put him in a similar position to Lauren, the difference being her enemy is PS and his being the royals (but also as we’re starting to see with Lauren learning more information, I think the royals are starting to become an enemy in her eyes the same way PS is. Again if any of this is correct it just furthers similarities between the two).
- This could then also be the betrayal alluded to in the cards; one of Lauren's mentors has been the leader this whole time. The betrayal is either past or future but March being the leader could count as both. He betrayed her in the past by ordering the death of her parents and may betray her again in the future as he continues to play the role of leader
- Plus this would also mean the leader has been present in the story FROM THE VERY BEGINNING MARCH WAS IN EP 2 HOW WILD WOULD IT BE IF WE’VE KNOWN THE LEADER THIS WHOLE TIME
- AND IMPORTANT NOTE: WHY IS MARCH NOT ONE OF THE PEOPLE LAUREN SUSPECTS DURING EP. 82 YET HE HAS HER BACK SIMILAR TO WILL AND KYM. "LAUREN OPEN YOUR EYES" BLINDEST OF THEM ALL TYPE STUFF. (Also with Lauren being the blindest of all, it led me to believe anyone Lauren is suspicious of, is not the one to betray her. I feel like it would have to be someone so unsuspicious, Lauren doesn’t even think of them. Which can be said of March; we literally have a whole scene in ep. 82 demonstrating how close they are and how a level of trust exists. Yet panels later, it doesn’t even cross her mind that he could betray her).
Now possible flaws in this theory (there are more I’m sure but here’s a few):
-Why voice support for lune and their actions: Lune’s actions have yet to affect the leader (at least to our knowledge) and have technically been helping the leader. The leader views Apostle 7 as an issue so obviously whoever the leader is, they won’t take issue with Lune taking down this problem for them. When first telling Lauren about McTrevor, Kieran said he was surprised he hadn’t been sent by the leader to kill him off yet. And when the 11th precinct received that first Lune letter about him, March was the one to voice that they should follow Lune’s orders. If he’s the leader, this could explain why he wanted to follow Lune’s orders and dispose of McTrevor without PS means. This is a possible explanation anyway.
- Why send moles into the 11th precinct if the leader himself is already there: I boil this down to a matter of seeming less suspicious. Like why possibly risk the exposure of your identity if your organization consists of hundreds of potential puppets who are easily disposable?
-Why place the PH in the 11th precinct if the leader is there: Okay this plays into another theory I have regarding Kieran. We know there are boatloads of parallels between Lauren and Kieran which left me thinking Kieran has had a similar Tim Sake type incident. What I mean by this is that Lauren’s whole deal with Tim Sake was heavily guided by her personal anger and resulted in distrust from her superior, Hermann. I think Kieran had a similar incident with killing that one person without orders, in which his actions were guided by his personal anger and resulted in distrust from his superior, the Leader. So we know from 83 Kierans been overseas for a while (Why? Was there a mission or did the leader need Kieran out of Ardhalis? Both?) and his comment in 64 (“I wonder how much longer his patience will last”), as well as the comments made by Bella and the messenger at various points regarding Kieran following and not following orders (ep 5 and 72-73?), further my thinking that the leader may be SUS of his best player. So what do you do with someone you’re suspicious of: you keep them right where you can see them.
- The one flaw I have yet to work out an explanation for is why order the death of lune? Regardless of who the leader is, this is a question I’ve mulled over since the end of season 1. J’en sais rien mes amis mais on verra.
Closing Thoughts:
Hopefully, this didn’t sound like the ramblings of a sleep-deprived senior (even though that’s exactly what this is haha) and hopefully, it gave you some stuff to consider. Up until this point, I never spent much time contemplating the leader, partly because I didn’t feel like we were far enough in the story to have enough evidence against one person. While much of this is speculation, I still think it’s the soundest case I have for any PH character we’ve met thus far being the leader.
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dixie12 · 3 years
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so @tarcanza showed me this pic, which i had somehow never seen before. and then i spent the next 12 hours obsessing over it. i have no idea of the context, but really, who needs context when you have fic!
a frat au featuring drunk jonny, beleaguered pat, and devious sharpy
pat walked into the Sig Ep house just after midnight, and was immediately surrounded by a thrum of bodies and the pulsing beat of music. he'd spent the last week pretty much living in the library, holed up in a study room working on his engineering midterm, and he'd finally submitted it, a whole three minutes before the deadline. the walk back to the house was nearly deserted, everyone on campus several hours into partying by now, and the noise as he walked in the front door was a shock.
before he could even take his coat off, sharpy saw him just inside the entryway. it was like the guy had a tracker on him, jeez. pat gave him a tired smile, wondering how quickly he could get away from sharpy and up to his room. after the last week, he just wanted to collapse in bed and not move for at least 12 hours. preferably with jonny there with him. he scanned the room quickly, looking for jonny, as sharpy half-jogged over to him and threw an arm over his shoulders. 
"peeks!" he yelled in patrick's ear. pat cringed at the alcohol on his breath. he must have pre-gamed for a while before the party tonight. "peeks!" he repeated. "you have to see this!" he said excitedly, dragging pat by the arm he had over his shoulders. it was easier to just go with sharpy rather than fight about it, so he trailed along willingly, catching sight of a few of their brothers and a lot of drunk guests along the way. they walked through the kitchen and into the living room, where the first thing patrick saw was
"who the fuck gave jonny tequila?" he demanded. jonny handled most alcohol like a pro- could shotgun beers all night, take jello shots, straight vodka, most mixed drinks, whatever. but tequila. tequila always fucked him up. and seeing as jonny was currently surveying the room from atop the coffee table, shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, cheeks flushed and grinning as he swayed to the music alone, beer lifted like he was toasting the room at large, yea. someone had given him tequila. 
pat poked an accusing finger into sharpy's chest. "was this your doing, sharp? you know tequila messes him up." sharpy raised his hands, pulling a 'who me??' face that might have worked on every single one of their professors, but patrick had known him way too long. 
"look, all i did was make a round of margaritas, and then when he said he didn’t want one, told him that was a good idea, since only real men can handle tequila.“ sharpy was laughing now. “before i knew it, he’d snaked the bottle from me! your boy has catlike reflexes, man. by the time i got it back, he’d taken a few shots right from the bottle.” pat glared at him. “oh come on, at least he's having fun! he's been a total debbie downer all week." pat couldn't really argue with that- he'd barely left the library recently; he didn't think he and jonny had even shared a meal this week. 
“patrick!” jonny yelled, catching sight of him from atop the table, face lighting up. it looked like he was going to jump down, and the last thing they needed was their hockey captain breaking an ankle on an ill-advised leap. pat held up his hands and pushed through the crowd, arriving just in time to break jonny’s fall as he stumbled on the landing. “patrick,” he said again, quieter, into pat’s hair. he pulled back, and the look of pure delight on jonny’s face made pat glow. “i missed you,” jonny said, nuzzling pat’s hair before kissing his temple, holding him close. “you get your project done?”
“yea, finally,” pat replied, swaying gently to the music as jonny held onto him.
“good,” jonny murmured. “that’s good.” they stayed like that for a few moments, and pat could almost forget the party going on around them until someone bumped into them, pressing jonny harder into him. that seemed to shake jonny out of the quiet mood he’d fallen into, like it surged the tequila through his veins again. “we should dance!” jonny said excitedly, and oh wow, he was wasted. jonny never wanted to dance. pat usually had to resort to all kinds of dirty bribery and blackmail to get jonny to join him for a few songs. if jonny actually wanted to get out there tonight, pat’s dreams of collapsing in bed could definitely wait. 
pat grabbed the beer can from jonny’s hand. It was almost full, like jonny had picked it up and then forgotten to drink it. pat brought it to his own mouth, chugging it and letting the alcohol warm up from the inside, loosen him up a little. 
he let jonny drag him out into the crowd, and he settled in behind jonny, grinding up a little against his perfect ass. he’d gotten maybe three hours of sleep a night for the last several nights, but he’d always have the energy for this. he had his hands on jonny’s hips, and jonny arched back into him, neck beautifully long, and pat leaned forward to nip at it, going up on his tiptoes to lay a few kisses over the gorgeous length of it, biting just a little. he heard jonny groan, watched his head drop down, rhythm faltering for a second. 
he leaned up again, letting his hands wander over jonny’s chest, feeling the solid muscle of it under the damp skin. he skimmed his fingers over jonny’s nipples, just to hear him gasp, feel him grind back harder into pat. 
“fuuuck, pat,” jonny moaned. “missed you so much this week,” and pat was surprised by that. even tequila-drunk-jonny didn’t usually get emotional like that, much more likely to be happy and handsy. not that he wasn’t handsy now. he interlaced his hand with one of pat’s, bringing it up to his mouth and sucking on one of pat’s fingers, swirling his tongue around like he was sucking pat’s cock, instead. through his exhaustion, pat felt his dick twitch in interest. maybe he could convince jonny they’d danced enough, drag him up to their room.
he grabbed jonny’s hip, turning him around to face pat. he was planning to whisper in jonny’s ear, something dirty to get him out of the crowd and upstairs, but jonny pushed up on him as soon as he was turned, grabbing his ass and pulling him close, and oh. if pat’s dick was starting to take interest, jonny’s was definitely already there, thick and hard, grinding insistently into his thigh that jonny had worked between his legs. fuck that felt good.
pat closed his eyes, getting lost in the feeling for a few minutes. jonny was hot all against him, hips working, small groans dropping from his lips, and pat could hear him start to pant. he drew back to look at him, and jonny was dazed, eyes hazy and heavy-lidded. jesus, pat recognized that look. jonny was close, from just some grinding, surrounded by a crowd of drunk frat guys.
“hey, hey,” he said, stepping back and putting some distance between them. 
“what?” jonny mumbled, hips thrusting against nothing a few times before he realized pat wasn’t there anymore. he dragged his eyes fully open, looking down at pat in confusion. he looked so fucking good like this, flush high on his cheeks, corded forearms exposed where he’d rolled up his sleeves, jeans tented around his obvious hard-on, breathing hard. 
“hey, let’s get up upstairs,” pat suggested, taking jonny’s hand and meaning to pull him towards the staircase, but jonny resisted. 
“fuck, pat, so close baby. please,” he said, words coming out in breathy little moans. pat’s self-control was seriously frayed, and he struggled not to give in. until jonny leaned down, getting pat’s earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently. “please,” he whispered, right into pat’s ear, and fuck if that didn’t get him every time. pat shivered, willpower giving up the fight for the night.
“ok, ok, but not here, come on,” he said, pulling jonny out the door towards the patio. the november air was crisp, the patio empty as they walked out, but pat pushed jonny up against the brick wall in the shadows anyway. no use risking exposure that they didn’t absolutely have to. given the look of desperation on jonny’s face, pat was pretty sure he would have been perfectly happy just rubbing off on pat. the beat of the music was still loud and obvious outside, and jonny leaned in like he was going to do just that.
pat pushed him back against the wall, though, and dropped to his knees. the ground was hard, but he didn’t think this was going to take long at all. he opened the button on jonny’s jeans, slid the zipper down as jonny cursed above him. he worked the jeans as far down jonny’s thick thighs as he could, then slid his boxers down too. and yea, jonny’s cock was blood-hot, foreskin already drawn back, precome slicking down his shaft, balls drawn up tight. this wasn’t going to take long at all.
pat took him in his mouth, enjoying the sharp taste of the precome. it had been too long since they’d done this, school and hockey taking up most of their time. jonny reached a hand down into pat’s curls, but pat pulled off.
“palms on the wall, JT,” he said with a smirk, reverting back to jonny’s freshman year pledge nickname. jonny moaned again at the instruction. he might be bigger and stronger than pat, something that he never let pat forget when they were working out together, but he fucking loved it when pat bossed him around, and tonight was no different. “you’re gonna take what i give you, jonny, and you’re gonna like it.”
“fuck, fuck, pat. yea. whatever you want,” he said, words sliding together in a hurried slur. 
“good boy,” pat answered, and got to work. 
it was only a few minutes later that jonny was coming hard down pat’s throat. pat stood up, wincing as he brushed the dirt off his jeans, and they leaned into each other, jonny coming down from what felt like a powerful orgasm, and pat enjoying jonny’s bulk around him.
“was worried about you, man,” jonny whispered, breaking the silence between them. “you were killing yourself on that project. wanted to make you feel good when you got back, but fuck, you just looked so good, finally home with me, i couldn’t resist.”
the gentle smile on jonny’s face was everything pat could have asked for.
“you always make me feel good, baby.”
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Basement Of No Hope (Rob Benedict x Reader)
[Actors-Masterlist]
Summary: Louden Swain had a few upcoming gigs & you decided to rent a house in the area. Jason & you tagged along, being the opening act for each show. The house was big, six bedrooms, enough for everyone. When you could not agree on who would occupy which room, you let a good old game of rock paper scissors decide for you. Today was your lucky day, apparently.
Words: 2,430
Warnings: language, mentions of nightmare (I had to bring some angst in there, okay?), Rob being dramatic af (other people write songs about heartbreak, dude, but it’s alright), strong dislike of basements (from personal experience lmao), soooo much fluff it’s kinda disgusting
Inspired by: “Basement Of No Hope” by Louden Swain (aka Robbie & his dramatic ass writing a song because he lost a game of rock paper scissors – no, really…if you haven’t watched the video, pls do, it’s hilarious)
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
You were at the airport in Nashville, currently waiting on your luggage. The flight had been rather relaxing, you even managed to get an hour or two of sleep in. Rob’s shoulder was used as a pillow but he did not seem to mind. Here you were, with the Swain boys & Jason. The following nights, Louden Swain had multiple gigs lined up, all in the area. They had asked Jason & you to join, to be their opening act. Having a few songs on your own & being more than comfortable to perform next to Jason, you agreed. Of course you did. Rob & you were…something, after all. Neither of you knew what you were but you were something. Best friends, but you were best friends with all of the boys. The only difference was that you did not want to kiss them when you looked them in the eyes. Rob was the exception. Everyone was aware of your crush on him. Everyone but him, it seemed.
Two vans were waiting for you all. They were supposed to bring you to your accommodation for the next few days. Rob, Jason & you were occupying one car while Billy, Stephen & Mike seated themselves in the other. Most people were confused because you only ever hung out with men but you did have girlfriends, too. Well, they were Rob’s friends first but you guys hit it off immediately. Besides, it was great to hang out with people who shared your passion for music. Your music career was still in the starting blocks but you had released your debut EP not too long ago & luckily, a lot of Louden Swain’s fans loved your music as well.
It was late when you arrived at your destination. Lazily, everyone dragged their suitcases inside, putting them in the entrance area. The moment you wanted to grab your stuff, Rob beat you to it, sent you a wink & left you standing outside, dumbfounded. He could be such a dork. After shaking your head & chuckling quietly to yourself, you followed him inside. Looked like you were interrupting a heated discussion. Listening to it for a few moments, you could make out that apparently, they were arguing about who would get what room to sleep in. Rolling your eyes, you were annoyed by their childish behavior. It was moments like this where you asked yourself if they were grown ass men or defiant children. Today, it was the latter.
“Guys, guys, guys. Can y’all turn it down for a second?” your voice was loud but not loud enough for them to hear you. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tried again, this time literally yelling.
“GUYS! SHUT UP FOR FUCKS SAKE!” like a switch, the discussion died down & five pairs of eyes were looking at you.
“Thanks. Okay, let’s try this again, shall we? Billy, what’s the matter?” knowing Billy was usually the one to keep it cool in situations like these, you turned to him & waited for his answer.
“Really? You’re asking him?” Rob chimed in. Rolling your eyes once more, you focused on Billy, waiting for his explanation.
“So, there are six bedrooms for six people, right?” you nodded, signaling him that you understood & he continued. “Stephen checked all of them. They are okay. All except one. The one in the basement. It’s…creepy.” he finished. Letting out a quick laugh, you were not sure if he was kidding or not. But his look told you that he was being serious.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” you mumbled under your breath.
“No, really, (Y/N). You gotta check it out. It’s bad.” Jason spoke up & motioned for you to follow him. Heading downstairs you were shocked to say the least. Okay, you had to admit, it was not luxurious whatsoever. The exact opposite. When you made your way back to the entrance area, the boys were waiting for you reaction.
“Okay, I get it. But guys, come on, it’s late…Can’t we just go to bed &, I don’t know, deal with this later?” an exhausted sigh escaped you.
“Sure, you can take the bedroom in the basement then.” Stephen suggested.
“Forget it. I won’t sleep down there. Dude, I’m scared of basements, you know that.” being annoyed at Stephen for even bringing this up. Good Lord, this was bound to be a long night.
“Let’s play rock paper scissors to decide.” Mike said after a few seconds of silence. Rob eyed him carefully, not really knowing if he was serious or not. But before you had enough time to tell them how stupid Mike’s idea was, the other four agreed with him.
You were standing in a circle, ready to beat the boys. As long as you did not have to sleep in the basement, you were good to go. Literally every other room would do. Stephen shortly explained the rules. Getting in position, you started with your first round. The first round ended quickly. Everyone won against Rob & when the realization set in, you all started laughing so hard that tears made their way down your cheeks almost instantly. Rob cursed & complained about how everyone had cheated which made this entire thing even funnier. He was pissed. Like, deeply pissed. And even though you felt a little amount of pity for him, the majority of you was just happy that you did not have to reside in that creepy ass bedroom downstairs. Rob grabbed his stuff & made his way downstairs, not longer caring about the rest of the game.
“Go fuck yourself.” was the last thing you heard from him. Again, you all ended up laughing like crazy. This was too good to be true.
Billy lost next, followed by Mike & Jason which left Stephen & you for the final battle. The first round went to Stephen. You won the second one. The last one would settle who would get to sleep in a nice king-size bed. The second place would get a great room, too, so whatever was about to happen…it would be a win-win situation. The others were circling you, cheering for the both of you. Stephen told you to close your eyes, he would do the same, so that the others knew the outcome before you. The damage was done, you went for scissors.
“Guess (Y/N) gets her well needed beauty sleep.” Billy joked & you opened your eyes. Stephen lost with paper. But before you performed a little winning dance, you made sure to playingly slap Billy for his awful joke.
“No need for beauty sleep, the princess is always looking flawless.” swaying your hips when you left for your earned room, carrying your suitcase with you. It was only then when you realized how heavy you had actually packed. In no way would you ask any of the guys to carry your luggage upstairs. Well, there was one person you would actually ask but this certain someone was residing in hell aka his incredible basement bedroom for the time being.
Wanting to experience the softness of the mattress as fast as possible, you quickly went to the bathroom to take a quick shower & to brush your teeth. You wrapped the towel around your body & walked back into your room to search for a suiting t-shirt to sleep in. In the end, you decided on one of Rob’s old shirts you stole from him a while ago. He was never wearing it anyway & it was freaking comfortable, so why not? Pushing it over your head, you did not bother with pants. The shirt was too big on you & you were in this room alone. A yawn escaped you & only a second later, the warmth of the bed was embracing you.
It did not take long before you shot up from your bed, breathing heavily. Shit, another nightmare. Usually, you could handle them just fine. Especially when you were with other people, they pretty much disappeared. You were confused why you had experienced one now. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you could not remember what it was about but since your heart was beating incredibly fast, you assumed it had been a bad one. There was no way you could be alone for the rest of the night. It was not something new to you to share a hotel room or a bed with one of the guys. Sometimes it was just easier, especially at Conventions, to share with another person in order to not take up too many rooms. Mostly, though, you did end up with Rob.
Looking to your door, you were contemplating going to him. But nope, that was not happening. He was sleeping in the basement & while basements themselves creeped you out, the thought of actually having to walk through the entire house by yourself scared you even more. Checking your phone for the time, you were shocked when it read 3:00 am. Shit, if you were not about to tell anyone about your nightmare you might as well not get any more sleep this night. The upcoming gig came into your mind & you knew you had to be well rested to perform perfectly.
It seemed like your hands were moving by themselves & all of a sudden you were calling Rob. Which was stupid, really. He would not hear his phone when he was asleep but you were desperate & still pretty shaken up from your previous nightmare.
“Yeah?” his sleepy voice interrupted your thoughts.
“Robbie?” your voice was small & you did not think it was possible, but your voice cracked by just saying his name. Damn nightmare.
“(Y/N)? You alright?” hearing bedsheets shuffling, you assumed Rob was sitting up. His voice was filled with concern. He knew you would not call for no reason, especially not in the middle of the night & definitely not when you were in the same house.
“Um…I-I had a nightmare & I just…I don’t even know why I’m calling you. I’m sor-“
“What room are you staying in?” right, he did not know because he was too pissed off to stay for the rest of that stupid game.
“The one with the king-size.” you mumbled, not really sure what he was getting at.
“Got it.” the call ended & you were left confused. Would he come to you?
The door squeaked open slightly after a soft knock. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark & you could see Rob’s silhouette in the doorway. He began walking over to you & took a seat on the bed. Immediately, you could feel his arms wrapping around your frame & pulling you close to his body. Being in his presence calmed you down in an instant & for a while, he just held you without saying anything.
“Looks like you won the game.” Rob’s whisper broke the silence in the room. You let out a chuckle & he did the same.
“Yeah, & you’re lucky enough I saved you from that hell hole. I’m sure that bed was uncomfortable as shit.” pulling away, you looked at his face. The darkness did not hide his features & you were happy that he was here with you right now.
“It was, which is why I haven’t slept yet.” he admitted with a laugh.
“You serious?”
“Yep. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m fucking tired…Do you wanna talk about it?” his eyes locked with yours & that was the point when you were sure that you were in love with him. The way he cared for you, genuinely cared, would forever be a mystery to you.
“I can’t remember what I saw but it was…bad.” sighing frustratedly. “I just knew I didn’t wanna be alone & I sure as hell didn’t wanna wander around the house all by myself. That’s why I called you.”
“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” because he would have stayed awake with you if that was what you needed.
“Yeah, now that you’re here…” if it were not for the dark room, Rob would have seen your blush. He simply nodded & pulled you down with him. His arm was draped over your waist & he hugged you close to his chest. A soft kiss was pressed onto your shoulder & this simple action sent goosebumps down your skin.
“Goodnight, (Y/N).” he mumbled into your neck.
“Night.” you whispered & soon enough, the both of you were fast asleep.
A loud voice woke you from your peaceful slumber. Whoever it was was about to get punched.
“Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty. Billy is making breakf-…Robbie?” of course it was Jason. He knew you could not stay mad at him & this man had never learned how to knock.
“Do I even wanna know? Um, you know what? I don’t…Anyway, breakfast is about to be done. At least I don’t have to go to the basement to wake Rob now.” the last part sounded farther in the distance because Jason was already turning around & walking out of your room. You could feel a chuckle behind you & soon, you found yourself laughing with Rob.
“Good morning, slept well?” turning around in his arms, you stared into perfectly blue eyes. When he saw you, he could not help the smile that was forming on his face.
“How could I not when you were literally next to me?” you blushed at his words. He could be so cute sometimes, it really was disgusting.
Getting up from the bed after a few more minutes of just enjoying being in Rob’s arms, he let out a whistle.
“My shirt looks good on you.” you brushed off the warmth that was spreading on your cheeks with a shake of your head.
“I’d hurry up, Robbie. Billy’s pancakes are to die for. Your fault if you’re too late.” you winked at him & put on some sweatpants before leaving Rob alone in the room. The two of you had spent nights sharing a bed before but there was never cuddling involved. Usually, you would stay on your sides & that was about it. Tonight changed everything. He knew you could tell as well. And that change was for the better. It was bound to happen. Literally everyone but you knew it would happen sooner or later. And here you were, after so long of keeping your feelings pushed down, finally moving into the right direction. All of it happened because a damn game of rock paper scissors...
Published (04/01/2021) by Cathy
Tags: @chelseashurley, @traubellianfirebuilder (thanks for your support <3)
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sleepyboisinc · 4 years
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soo,,, the secret au huh?
its a band au. its a fucking band au. im posting this super impulsively, and it has no editing i think so if there are any mistakes,,,, fuck it idc
also this ends in a sort of cliffhanger i was gonan write more but i got tired of writing and never got the motivation to again im sorry lul
this au isnt just by me, theres other ppl involved in it too!! mainly bad timezone gang in technohive but others also helped :)
anywaysyysyshdhsh yea read if u want to ig
wilbur soot was discovered by a record label when he was 15 after he wrote the squid song. they didn't care that the lyrics were objectively bad, it was wilbur’s voice that grabbed their attention. they interviewed him and decided that they were gonna give him a chance. wilbur, who had always dreamed of being a singer, jumped at the opportunity. the interview went very well. they even asked him to sing a few songs and he nailed it. however, he wasn’t perfect. he still needed some vocal training. they spent an entire day discussing and signing paperwork. the label ended up arranging for wilbur to attend music classes to enhance his voice and get better at the guitar.
time-skip about 3 years. wilbur is 18 and is phenomenal at singing and the guitar. he starts going to uni and meets his roommate, an american student named technoblade who plays the violin. wilbur and techno quickly become friends, bonding over music and other mutual interests like video games. techno plays mini gigs on the street and at bars close to campus to make some money for himself. particularly at a little bar called “the harpy’s nest”
one day, wilbur gets bored sitting at home alone, so he goes to watch techno’s gig. he arrives halfway through the set and watches for about 5 minutes. after the gig is over, he watches as techno interacts with the bartender, a young man only slightly older looking than the two of them. techno notices wilbur and calls him over, introducing him to the bartender, philza. the two immediately hit it off and by the end of the night, they’ve exchanged numbers and a promise to meet up phil’s next shift.
-
over the next few months, the trio became best friends. wilbur learns that phil plays the drums and has several eps. one ep in particular, “hardcore2” blew up a bit in their general area and phil gained a bit of traction as a musician. the three boys spend most of their time hanging out at wilbur and techno’s dorm, or at phil’s bar. they stay up till ungodly hours playing video games and talking. their other friends dub them the sleepy boys, because of how tired they all are the next day. 
however, as the months fly by, the date wilbur is supposed to finish training and write his first songs draws closer. he worries he’s bitten more than he can chew and he wonders if he’s even ready for fame. a month later he is assigned a manager, pete. pete says that his training contract has expired, meaning that he's ready to start writing his album. wilbur says that he needs to think a bit before he starts. pete was about to tell him he can’t have extra time to think because he signed a contract, but seeing the look of stress on wilbur’s face, he allows him 2 days before he starts. wilbur goes on a walk to think. he curses himself for second-guessing himself now. he realizes he doesn’t wanna do this alone. then he thinks of techno and phil. 
what if they formed a band? that way he wouldn’t have to do this alone. he’s sure that they'd love to make a band together as well. he goes to them and… they agree. he goes to pete and asks him if they can be a three-piece band. pete says he needs to ask his higher-ups first. wilbur doesn’t hear from pete for 4 days and starts to worry. what if they won’t allow it? it wasn't part of the agreement so they have every right to turn him down. at the end of the fourth day, pete calls him and says that the higher-ups have agreed. they had to choose a group name by the end of 2 days. the trio was over the moon.
this was the start of sleepy bois inc.
-
their record label wasn’t massive, so the boys took to playing on the streets and in bars to gain some traction. they slowly started gaining recognition and grew faster when they made a youtube channel. they released several eps and a few albums, and gained a following over the next few years.
their first big break came 3 years after the band was formed. they had a decent following, about 50k subs on youtube and slightly less on other platforms. one day, jschlatt from lunch club, a massive boy band, got their music recommended to him on youtube. he’s intrigued and listened to it, and was surprised at how much he liked it. he liked it so much, that he decided to shout them out on twitter. 
sleepybois inc’s popularity skyrocketed, and the members of both bands grew close. when lunch club announced their next tour, they revealed that sleepybois inc would open for them. the fans freak out, and many iconic moments and inside jokes form from this tour. 
-
tommy innit was 19 years old and was preparing to become a musician. he was almost done with the 4 years of vocal and keyboard training provided by a record label and had to make a decision: be a solo artist, or join a band. if he chose the band, he has another 2 options: be assigned into a band that already exists under this label or make a new one with people that he knows. 
tommy is also a massive fan of lunch club, and sees that jschlatt shouted out a band called sleepybois inc. he likes them a lot and becomes a fan of their stuff too. what tommy didn’t know is that they were at the same label he was training at and were open for a 4th member. 
back on the music, tommy ended up going with band. he debated between making a band or being assigned one. after a while, he ended up going with being assigned. he was nervous about this because he'd have to integrate himself into their dynamic and feared that fans won’t like him, but he figured it’d be easier than making his friends all learn instruments.
being assigned a band is a process, so tommy had a couple of months free. during this time, lunch club was on tour with sleepybois inc and tommy got vip tickets to a show. so he went to the meet and greet and gave his number to sleepybois inc saying ”hmu if u need a keyboardist lul” as a joke (this is a very important detail i will include it f u)
so come around the day of tommy getting assigned. he has to do auditions for the bands that the record label selected for him to join. management has narrowed it down to the youngest 2 bands at their label who are open for a member: one of which is sleepybois inc. 
-
it had been a month since tommy interviewed for sleepybois inc. he did pretty well at it, and had been talking to the boys a lot since then. he still hadn’t had news on whether he joined though. 
it was 3 am. tommy had been working on school work for hours and had only just managed to finish up for the night. he settled into bed and was about to fall asleep when his phone rang. not bothering to look at who was calling, tommy picked it up
“who the fuck is calling me at 3 in the morning i swear to god-” tommy whispered angrily. 
“tommy?” wilbur’s voice rang out “wait shit- this is probably a really bad time im sorry. but we have something important to tell you.”
tommy’s eyes widened. 
“we’ve decided that you can join the band”
-
the band and their label spent a few weeks discussing how they would go about this. they boys decided they would need a name change too, and ended up settling on the name ‘purple pandas’. however, a new member and a name change would practically transform the band completely, so they had to go about announcing this the right way.
they ended up settling on posting a youtube video titled ‘making some changes’. seeing the announcement for this sent fans into a frenzy, frantically tweeting about what it could be. many rumours spread fast and it even got into a few news articles. conspiracies started floating around about what changes could possibly be taking place.
-
i cant write this shit no more bye
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manjuhitorie · 3 years
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tat - Shinoda’s Hitori-Atelier blog posts - REAMP Digest volume 4
Shinoda’s blog post via Hitori-Atelier! Please consider joining Hitori-Atelier and supporting Hitorie’s ventures today. How-to here: https://boatmanju.wixsite.com/hitorietranslations/hitorie-atelier 
It’s already been 3 months since REAMP was released, time really flies.
In that short bit of time we’ve already planned a tour ahead of us, and were given the opportunity to do the opening for the anime ‘86′. Let’s fucking go~~~~~ Is everyone faring well? I've recently rekindled my passion for sampling, I haven't felt like this in years. I'm taking free samples I find strewn across the internet and turning them into techno. I kinda remember mentioning my appreciation for techno in vol. 1 of this blog series, and yeah. I'm finally trying it out for myself. I've managed to make a pretty sick song if I do say so myself. You'll find it on Hitori-Atelier soon enough. (*This is most likely the song titled 'mad candy', found in 'Shinoda's Contents') It's fun 'cause compared to vocal stuff, I use a whole different part of my brain to make techno. I say "This part of this sample has a good beat to it, I bet if I rearranged it like this it would make music~" and do it. Relatively speaking, this kinda music making matches my personality type really well. I feel like I've found a fucking good hobby for myself here. With that said, even though it’s a hobby, work is still work so the collateral damage of music-making is still vividly affecting my body. Like music is still music, and with the way I tunnel vision I'll end up at my desk for an obscene amount of hours. By the time I'm done with it physically and mentally I'm a wreck. Like the fuck do I mean by hobby, is this some kinda shitty joke Shinoda? Anyway let's talk about 'tat'. The question as to what the title means comes first. Initially I wanted to name this song "刺青(meaning tattoo)". Because the song ‘Perfume’ by ‘Eito’ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MjAJSoaoSo) was a huge hit at that time so yeah.. But that idea failed ygarshy's inspection so I had no choice but to look around for a word similar to tattoo.
That was when I found photos of tattoos on Instagram with the hashtag #tat. This is it, I said. As a slang tat can mean many other things as well but I forget what they were. I'm sure you can find out if you look it up but, take note that none of it has much to do with the song itself. I considered '#tat' for the title as well, but it was too lame so I pulled back. This song was written when the album was almost finished and most songs ready: I reviewed the album as whole and felt that something was missing. I had wanted something with now tat’s tempo and mood to it to tie the album together. It turned out really well, if I may say so myself. Isn't it a great song though? I feel like all my efforts were worthwhile... It's fun to let the creative juices flow and write with whatever comes to mind. I tried to make the amount of guitar notes concise and solid. The tone was supposed to be graceful too but... ygarshy swooped in with a kick and his bass so heavy it sounds like he's blasting music from a little motorcycle. The melody too has the same makings as the hits these days. It’s about someone of the opposite sex with a bold tattoo who’s stuck in days of ennui, and me who’s gazing from afar wondering what these feelings inside me are. It’s about that sorta thing (?) - I think I managed to express it (????) The beat isn’t made to be far off from modern tuning either. I’m sure I could’ve harmonized it even better but, at the time I found good reason to make it more rock band-y, so I have no regrets. I only wish I made the song name something easier to find via search. It’s so hard to find the people talking about it... Starting with a verse and closing a song with that same verse is great, ain’t it. I’ve always liked songs with a bit of a whacky structure to them, Like November in HOWLS, it goes from verse 2 back to verse 1 then into the instrumental break. If you think it’s just any old number then prepare to be sorely mistaken - Or, that kind of fetishy stuff is important for music if you ask me. I received a fair lot of praise from people in the song-writing industry about tat, I’m happy. Though I’m not sure about the lyrics. Someone from our workplace told me that “Mushy gushy heart-wrenching lyrics would fit well”, so I sought out to do exactly that. The only problem is that my expression of mushy gushy made that person from work go “????” so making people’s heart clench is hard shit. This doesn’t leave here okay.. My dismay over the discontinuation of Chikyuu Monogatari is vented in here a bit as well. Though I don’t think Chikyuu Monogatari is boring. Not really. I saw a few people say that ‘tat’ is like the evolution of cakebox. And it makes sense to me now that y’all say it. cakebox was my solo project I did back in my mid-20’s. I made 3 mini pieces with 7 tracks and 1 EP with 4 tracks before stopping. I’m sure only like 10 people in the whole world ever listened to it. If you look it up you can still get it to listen too. Like an offering of random ass songs to my dead school life, I had a phase between my late teens and my early 20’s wherein I was obsessed with making songs using just my voice and guitar. The question of direction was beyond my consideration, I just sorta let the creative juices flow back then too and promptly set pen to paper. That was my creative process cycle. It was kinda like a diary. There’s barely any proper complete songs. The reason being that I completely lacked the skill necessary to make them proper. My guitar was alright but my singing wasn’t up to par, no one ever praised my voice at all. So I resolved that I just wasn’t cut out for it and strove to be a lead guitarist. Instead of my own songs I chose to go do band stuff, thus devoted myself to guitar.   Yet still my desire to make something proper stuck with me, and so soon after that I started a band in which I did guitar and vocals. we mashed stuff together and made song proper. Alas. Between creative differences and my own lack of ability, we were barely able to make something that I was proud of. After shit happened I ended up at home immersed in making my own songs. “Surely I could put all my experiences in bands and my own growth to good use, to turn my backlog of WIPs into something proper as well?” I thought to myself, and thus was the beginning of cakebox. I think that was the first time I ever got involved in making my own music through my own power. But my way of intense creation was too innocent for listeners or something, or like I wasn’t conscious enough of my headfirst personality... So I didn’t even have the sense to match the tuning up with modernity, and ultimately my work wasn’t clicking with society’s needs. That reality was crushing me more and more with every piece I made. I didn’t have absolute confidence in myself or conviction to push through either. After 3 albums the feeling of “Why am I even doing this” grew, and I found more purpose in Hitorie instead. From then on I devoted myself to Hitorie. These past few years in Hitorie have been nothing but learning experiences for me. After years of the four of us together stressing over what makes good music, I think my own work has leveled up as well. One thing I learned that has especially stuck with me, even now, is leader’s unwavering stance on “Believing that I’m just no matter what”.   For someone with my relative dispositions it’s a nigh impossible stance, and at often times I felt it was egoistic of him but... It’s what led him to create such powerful music, and it’s something we depended on greatly. The other day I gave Unhappy Refrain a full listen for the first time in a while. It’s perfect in every way, what the hell. Vocaloid as a genre was still establishing itself back then, and without a doubt this album served as a monument for the cause. The same way ‘my bloody valentine’’s ‘loveless’ was the cherry on top for the shoegazer genre. It’s made an immovable unsurpassable mark on music history. I really was in a band with a crazy person. To think that when I was in a band with him I more saw myself as the crazy amazing one. What the fuck was up my ass. I understand why felt the need for a band after making this album - why he brought us together - even more now. The obscene amount of notes in that album with a tone reeking of rock band stuff... It’s really flooded with his innocent yearning for rock music. I think the troubles he faced following Unhappy Refrain were the repercussions of him making such a huge monumental piece. But his stout core belief in himself - that he’s just - has stood equally as tall as that monument all the way. Now, after so many twists of fate.. I never thought I’d be writing AND singing my own songs for Hitorie like this. Except, one difference between the me of now VS. the me of old is that I don’t feel even a smidgen of unconfidence. I’m not worrying that I “don’t stand out” or “don’t suit societies needs” anymore. I feel like ‘tat’ might be the best song in the album (sorry ygarshy and Yumao). To the point that when people praise it I merely agree with them, “No lies detected” I say.
It’s all thanks to my time spent with Hitorie, the musical knowledge we sharpened, and the fact that my bandmates’ amazing performances have my back. If I don’t have something as big as this supporting me then I’ll just be a fucking chicken with no confidence in my music, after all. With that said, Music made by you yourself is an irreplaceable treasure, “If you made something good, then be proud”: this lesson of mindset was taught to me by Leader. It’s a really life-changing way to be so... If I mimic Leader at least this lil’ bit no one would make a bad face at me, right? What do y’all think? With that that said, the actual most pure thing that’s naturally come out of my head in years, with my actttual emotions stuffed in, is... The actttttual best song is “Utsutsu” if you ask me so. Look forward to the next entry of this blog series, y’hear me. Shinoda
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peace-coast-island · 3 years
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Diary of a Junebug
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Getting lost at the Floating Petal Garden
Who would've thought that getting lost in a tangle of bushes, flowers, and vines would feel so freeing? Being surrounded by a mix of earthy and vibrant colors, organic shapes, and faint floral scents - it feels like I'm transported to another world! There's something about all this greenery that makes me feel calm, like it's okay to shut yourself out from whatever's bothering you and get lost in nature for a little bit. Interestingly enough, that was one of our purposes of visiting the garden.
I'm back in the Golden City with Ginko, who brought along some friends who dropped by to visit. I haven't heard from Storm in a while since Jamie disbanded the entourage. It's a shame that he joined right before things slowed down and everyone was leaving - if he came along a year earlier, then his music career would've definitely taken off by now.
Storm's an aspiring singer-songwriter. He's been singing in choirs and performing in bands for as long as he can remember. At first glance though he comes across as bumbling and well-meaning, not always the brightest bulb of the bunch, but he's a total sweetheart that you can't stay annoyed at him for too long. Not to mention that he's got a hell of a voice, a smooth baritone that contrasts with his fast paced chatter. Like I said, he could easily make it as a singer but he just hasn't had his lucky break yet.
The decision to leave the small and sleepy Midwestern town he spent his whole life in to LA was an impulse one. Basically all his friends have moved on - some have married, many are successful - and he was just getting by, working at a diner and performing occasional gigs there. He was a frequent guest at a best friend's house, even long after his friend moved out, and over time he realized that maybe he should be spending his time doing his own thing rather than barging in on other people's lives.
So he moved to LA, but quickly realized that the fast paced city life wasn't for him. Storm was about to call it quits when Jamie discovered him at a cafe and invited him to the entourage after he gave her a demo tape. They both knew from the start that Storm wasn't "commercial" material, but he had potential and is passionate about what he creates, which was enough for Jamie to give him a chance.
While Storm was able to nail a recording contract with Lawrence Sardar, outside of his EPs selling fairly well, he wasn't getting the reception he hoped he would. Being more of a performer than a recording artist, Storm felt kinda let down. Then the entourage disbanded and Storm lost interest in recording, though Lawrence told him that he's free to come to the studio whenever he feels like it.
Then a few months ago Storm decided to move in with his cousin Buddy in Airy to help him run the gas station/auto shop after the owner retired. I've met Buddy a handful of times through Holly and Sam and he's a big sweetheart like Storm. He tends to run his mouth off a bit and poke into other people's businesses but he means well and just wants to be a part of things.
Plus he's the reason why the shop's been so successful - he's a good mechanic who also provides excellent customer service as well as doesn't overcharge or make people spend more than they have to. Businessmen hate him, but customers love him - and despite what his detractors says, there's no denying that Buddy's a big reason why Airy's still standing strong when other small towns in the area have been declining. The day Buddy Nephele retires from the shop will be a sad day for all in Airy.
Storm's been enjoying living in Airy and working at the shop. He's also quite good with cars too so he's been a great deal of help for Buddy. Aside from singing in the community choir and a few gigs here and there for town events, his singing career has taken a backseat - but not for long. Thanks to Ginko and Benji, Storm will be performing at the Golden City Nightclub twice a month as a replacement for one of their regular performers. If things go well, he might be a regular there, which is exciting! The commute's a bit long - two and a half hours by train - but it's a good start. And if it becomes a regular thing, then he and Benji will work something out to make the commute easier.
So the trip to the Floating Petal Garden serves as a celebration for Storm. He's so excited about it as well as nervous - his first performance being less than two weeks from today. With Ginko living in Golden City and now Storm performing at the nightclub, it looks like we have more excuses to drop by Golden City!
Another reason for the trip was to de-stress and get away for a bit. Storm wanted to invite Buddy along because he's been going through a rough time. Buddy had an older brother who's nothing like him and Storm - a big name engineer who's always busy so he barely had time to visit family. Braden visited a couple weeks ago - Buddy hadn't seen him in over a decade, Storm not since he was a kid - but had to cut his visit short because of work. The work emergency ended up resolving early so Braden went back to Airy, only to die in a car accident on the way there.
According to Sam and Storm, Buddy idolized Braden. He also felt inferior to him and the two noticed right away how withdrawn Buddy was when Braden came to visit. Buddy was pretty bummed out when Braden had to leave, so a few days later Braden called Storm to tell him that he was coming back and wanted to surprise Buddy. But then the accident happened so instead of planning for a fishing trip, Buddy had to plan for a funeral.
Buddy's still his sweet old self but I can tell that he's been trying to keep it together and get through the day. It's odd not seeing him chattering about, keeping us up to date about what's happening in town and making us laugh with funny stories involving his misadventures at the shop. Storm's doing his best to help while giving Buddy space to process everything - that's all we can really do for him right now. It wasn't easy for everyone to convince Buddy to take a couple days off - Sam and some of the others are currently taking shifts at the gas station while the garage is closed - but he relented after some prodding.
I think him being here has helped a little. I mean we didn't expect him to feel better immediately but at least as the day went on he was able to enjoy himself a bit. Sometimes all you can really do is take it one day at a time, hoping that things will turn up for you. Knowing Buddy, I'm sure he'll get back on his feet eventually - I just wish there's more we can do to help him.
Getting lost in the garden is like being transported into a storybook, a whimsical, fairy tale like one where everything looks soft and ethereal. Meadows of soft grass with colorful petals poking out, straight out of a painting. Jungles of wavy vines wrapped around towering trees carrying delicate blossoms. Numerous winding trails surrounded by unusual flowers that can't help but draw your attention with its clashing colors and wavy, organic shapes, all looking like a mismatch that somehow comes together - like an imperfect mosaic.
I think my favorite place is the Great Crimson Way, a lovely trail surrounded by lovely rose blossoms. Like the name says, they're a hybrid of roses and cherry blossoms. There's a beautiful fountain at the center where people go to make wishes. There's something so peaceful about it, just looking at the petals floating in the water makes me feel reassured, like somehow, everything will be all right. There's a lot about the world that makes no sense but seeing these petals hanging around feels grounding - like it's telling me to hang on and soon the hard times will pass.
Buddy seemed to be taken in by the fountain too. I wonder if he's thinking the same regarding the floating petals. He did seem a bit more like himself after that as not too long afterwards he inserted his two cents here and there while Storm talked about town happenings. Sometimes Storm would try to prod him a bit more, only for Buddy to be miles away - he tries, but Ginko and I would remind him not to push too much.
This isn't a knock on Storm and Buddy but they tend to overstep a little bit. I'll admit it can be a nuisance sometimes with them trying to get into everyone's businesses but it's hard to stay too mad at them when they have good intentions, even when they make a mess out of it. While they do need to work on boundaries - which they both are making an effort on - it's good to have friends like them because sometimes you need to be thrown off the deep end.
Another favorite spot is the Stained Glass Grove. The plants over there literally look like stained glass! Translucent, colorful petals with intricate designs - we were lucky to come across this place when the sun was shining just right. The whole place lit up like a light show! We tried taking pics and while they came out good, it just doesn't do it justice. Turns out stained glass flowers are difficult to care for because of the amount of sunlight it needs. The spot where the Stained Glass Grove is perfect because that's where the sun shines the brightest for most of the day as constant sunlight is important for healthy flowers.
After navigating the Sweetie Honey Hills - which was full of fragrant flowers known for their honey-vanilla nectar - we stopped by the cafe. There, we ran into Leif, Kiki, Diva, and Lucky. So we had lunch together and bought some flowers from Leif. On our way out we came across a cute little tea shop so we stocked up on tea. I bought a bunch of new and unfamiliar flavors so I'm looking forward to trying them out!
The Sweetie Honey Hills is nice to look at, though the scent was starting to get a little overpowering so we didn't stay too long. We did harvest some nectar - a small jar costs about 5000 bells - so we each got one jar for ourselves. I like the flavor of honey-vanilla, though I've never cooked or baked with it before. I heard that the nectar's expensive, plus it's better to buy fresh so it's a super good deal!
Orange Blossom River is a lovely place full of bright, vibrant colors and fresh, citrus fragrances. We traveled by boat with Storm taking the sail while Ginko helped with navigation. The water's so crystal clear that you can see everything, from the colorful koi swimming around to the rocks and seaweed scattered about. It looks so unreal that I half expected to be transported to another world when we stepped into the boat.
From there, we traveled to Marigold Meadows, where we watched the sunset. It's a fitting stop as it's a popular place to watch the sun rise and set. Paired with the various yellows and oranges of the marigolds, it's absolutely perfect! The moment the sky turned a lovely red orange, the meadow seemed like it came to life. It was a magical moment when a rainbow popped up and all at once I felt at peace - we all did. It was a funny feeling, like a friendly and familiar presence snuck up on us, whispering to us that  all is well.
Ginko was the one who brought it up first, saying that she felt like Manaka was right there beside her. Buddy then said that he could've sworn his brother was standing nearby for a moment. Storm said the same about his dad and I for mine. I haven't thought about him in years since he's been gone for a long time so I'll admit I'm still a bit shaken up. I still don't know how I feel about it, yet I feel like that's how I'm supposed to feel about it?
If you're feeling lost, uncertain, stuck, or in need of something new and different, I'd highly recommend exploring the Floating Petal Garden.
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sunlightnmoonshine · 4 years
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Let's talk abt ep 10
Admittedly Itaewon Class has some of the best story telling. How they manage to make so much happen coherently within an hour amazes me. The characters all one of a kind and none one dimensional gives this show so much depth. I always find myself analysing the characters because there's so much to each of them and you see yourself in at least one of them in some instance but I'm going to elaborate on just two characters since ep 10 gave them a lot of fodder.
Jang Geun Won - I could care less abt him because all he'd done thus far was mouth off but admittedly every time he'd do something around Soo Ah or his father I'd just see him as pathetic. Ep 10 kinda just highlighted how truly pathetic he is. I more or less figured the Chairman would try to dismiss Geun Won because like Ro Yi said that's who he is but what I didn't see was him setting up a conference and turning his son in. Basically made his son take the fall for "his" actions.
Let's recap, Jang Geun Won is trash but the first ep more or less highlights how pitiable his character is and how he's the subject of terrible parenting. It's obvious when you see him sitting upset in the hospital and then begging for forgiveness. Thereafter going to his father and asking him to let Ro Yi out. He has a conscience although it's twisted and covered in this notion that money will help him (again something his father put into his head). But watching the chairman cover up his own crimes by throwing his son under the bus was just... I dont know how to describe it because I don't feel sorry for him. He deserves to pay for his actions but he's the victim of a lot of sociological factors along with mental abuse. That moment where he sees his father and a tear falls I was like shit this feels a little unfair.
I could go on abt this there's a lot of psychology here but I dont wanna bore people with details but what needs to be seen is that this drama really went into the role parents have in raising their kids and how the way their kid grows up depends on what they instill in them or the situations they place them in. Not saying that you don't have the choice in what sort of a person you become though (although some have it harder because if psychological factors) which brings us to the next character.
Jang Geun Soo - he's a puppy but these past few eps he's been mildly getting on my nerves not in this oh I dislike your presence kind of a thing but because his behaviour is starting out to border on childish. And this makes sense obviously because he's a child and he doesn't know better.
Leave aside the fact that he feels bad for his family even though what they have done to Ro Yi can frankly never be paid for and thereafter we see that he's going to now Join Jangga and become the Head or more or less be groomed by the Chairman which also means that much like Soo Ah he'll be put in a position where Ro Yi succeeding will be problematic. But let's leave all this aside because I believe he's a good guy and at the end of it he'll make the right decision but duh there's gonna be some drama. The problem I have with all this is that his motivation is Yi Seo.
Now how is this motivation different from Yi Seo's motivation to work at Danbam? It is. It just is and I need an entirely different post to elaborate so I'm not going into that.
But Geun Soo's inherent reactions and that dramatic run he did when he realised "that its okay for me to want you, right?" after everything his family has done to Ro Yi just didn't strike well with me. Again theres definitely going to be some twist so I don't think we need to worry abt them becoming all out enemies and Ro Yi being the understanding monk that he is will sort it out. He's too good for this world btw.
Whys Geun Soo different to Geun Won? Simply because the chairman just didn't care enough to discipline Geun Soo. Sure he abandoned him to get beat up and what not but he actively abuser Guen Won to the point that Geun Won had to please his father. Geun soo in terms of this had it relatively easier because he didn't need to please his father. So while Geun Soo made better choices and he's the kinder better human obviously ( like I said he's adorable I want good things for him but he's gotta get over Yi Seo) he hasnt had that whole sociological psychological abuse factor.
Which is why this drama is so phenomenal. It gives one such food for thought because there's much grey area and you can't paint these characters are typical hero's or typical villains. I mean sure we call Ro Yi a monk but like then we'd need to have seen him abandon his hate and revenge but he ain't doing that is he. Neither does he want to change his actions even if others might not be too happy with thr outcomes. So he's not some selfless being (although let's be honest there's no selfless act)
I could go on. It's been awhile since a kdrama came around that made me analyse (arthdal chronicles I miss you come back soon please) but imma stop here.
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gukptune · 5 years
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user: 95mochibuns → jimin
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↠ Pairing: jimin x reader
↠ Genre: camboy!au, streamer!reader, smut
↠ Warnings: explicit language, cute but dangerous jimin, masturbation, teasing, edging, more of a clean smut
↠ Words: 3.3k
↠ Plot Summary: not much could be said about a camboy who gets himself into trouble with a streamer he admires.
↠ a/n: possibly a part 1 of 2. This has been sitting in my draft for a long time. Hope you enjoy it, it’s not GREAT but it’s cute. Second part will be much better!
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Frustrated, infuriated and annoyed, all these words meant the same thing but they’re the only things that crossed your mind but of course you couldn’t show it not right now.
“Honestly, I knew this game was difficult and no, I will not wear the chicken hat. Never,” you announced, your voice coming right back at your from your mic to your headphones.
Keeping that quick witted and mischievous persona that all your viewers came to you for.
Comments rolled in with tips and tricks but of course most of them weren’t helpful, your eyes were automatically glancing over the sexual comments and what not, saying shit like your aspirated groans and whines at the game was hot.
Then a tip rolled in and that wasn’t normal by any means, your tips were of high price ― 20 for a tip was just ridiculous but it stopped a lot of stupid kids commenting. You had loads of subscribers and make a lot from this yet streaming and gaming wasn’t your job. You didn’t want to make it seem that way either because you were still in the end a student.
The tip popped up with your tip icon, blinking with the sender’s icon ― a bunny? 
“All these kids commenting that you suck should fucking stop commenting anonymously like the fucking *shilantropussies* they are.”
You were looking at the sender as you chuckled, “Exactly, jbunnyjeon.”
Of course it was nice to point out people’s names when they tipped because funny enough most of the tippers live for that shit. You were streaming one of the less popular games mostly so you could play it because well you don’t stream for other people but for yourself.
Playing Metal Gear Solid could’ve been a mistake, since this game was a drag in time and effort. Yet, a whole lot of male viewers loved seeing girls play ‘manly’ games, whatever.
“Anyways, I still don’t get why we need this guy with us but I got him,” you commentate as your character, snake, hauled your capture onto the back of your horse.
Finally, you got past the stupid robot. 
“Congrats :( that part took me *days* ― legit was about to kill myself.”
A comment by a fellow streamer, it popped up larger than most since you both were mutuals.
“Jeez, you fucking suck Tae,” You teased, imagining his reaction to everyone seeing how you played better than him. Since, he was a self proclaimed pro-gamer.
You leaned back in your chair, watching yourself on the screen to your left through the cutscene. Seeing all the comments which made you chuckle and respond to some through text. You weren’t one to talk through cutscenes at all.
As things seemingly were going smoothly a buzz through you phone made you groan, if someone was fricking texting you at 9 pm you were about to kill them because there were multiple and they were loud.
Out of frame of the viewers you flipped your phone over, it immediately unlocks and you scroll to see the notification.
95mochibuns is going live!
95mochibuns is going live in 10 minutes!
Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes lock at the time. It was really 9 but fucking 9:50.
95mochibuns announcement! 
Hey guys! A spontaneous live coming up, something special - feeling horny and fucking hard. Hope you can all join me tonight! 
Entry is at 10 on the dot, only those who click in time can view. Testing out something new, maybe you guys will like it. I’ll be able to see your comments easier since it’s exclusive and limited.
Did I mention there’s only 35 slots, :) I love you all.
Oh fucking hell. Were you really going to drop your stream to watch his. Were you going to pretend to have a great reason to stop the stream now, lie to your audience to watch this camboy jack himself off.
Fuck yes.
Letting out a cough, you turned back to face the camera as your phone slips up into your hand, “Urgh, hey guys― I think I’m getting tired.”
"I’m so going to have nightmares about this game tonight, hope you all enjoyed,” you smiled softly, giving your audience the best worn out expression you could. Waving your hand at the camera, seeing comments of those saying ‘goodnight’, or saddened emojis and you know the typical ‘don’t go’ or some mean comments.
Winking at the camera before you shot hearts, “Thank you so much for tuning in on tonights stream! Metal Gear Solid Ep. 24! See you all, next time. Much love!”
Clicking off you let out a sigh, stretching out your back and feeling the cracks moaning at the release. Shit, you’ve been sitting in the same spot for hours, your back was killing you. Twisting and turning trying to pull out all the cracks and tightness you peered at the time on your desktop.
9:54 it was. You had 6 minutes to get on his page and wait, you knew it was going to be war and you were going to be refreshing like your life depended on it.
On the cam website and app, called ‘weheartcam’, it was one of the best in your opinion. The website only took amateurs and didn’t take companies or businesses streaming on their site, only independent streamers, how lovely.
Though Jimin, 95mochibuns, was one of the most popular boys apart of this camboy trio. Made up of himself and his two friends, though you only watched Jimin― something about him makes you just drool.
His fluffy blonde hair, muscular thighs, ripped body- fuck, he was just a korean boy who knew his ways around people of all countries. His english was amazing, he slips his native tongue every now and then, making him even hotter. 
95mochibuns is going live in 5 minutes!
Holy―fricken―fuck. Was it anxiety, you were going to cry if you didn’t get to watch. You ended your stream for this boy, you felt like you were trying to get concert tickets or something.
You clicked on the bookmarked page you had favourited, that directed you right to his page. 
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On the videos page, you propped your leg up hugging a knee close to your chest to get comfortable.
Seeing his array of very explicit thumbnails, of which one of them was blurry― for tonight. Plastered over the image, ‘Coming Soon’. Oh yes, he was going to be coming in many ways.
Here you are, playing the waiting game. Being a well traverse streamer of course you internet connection was legit and you had faith in yourself... as much faith you could have when you know at least ten thousand people would want to be watching. He gets at least millions on each of his streams and well whenever there was a live he had more than a hundred thousand watching when it’s on. Though, there were the occasional people who joined instantly and that was the ten thousand super fans.
You wouldn’t say you were a super fan, you didn’t really have a fan page just a random one you used to comment and tip Jimin. You didn’t like all his posts on instagram... you always a bit busy. But well, you’ll have to try― at least.
9:58, nine―fucking―fifty eight. Hearts racing, in the spur of suspense. Your eyes were burning a whole into the clock as your finger on your mouse hovered over the video. Did this seem like you were being too much, no, fuck no.
Time blinks away as you finger immediately taps on the video when it game on. Being delighted by the cute face of Jimin himself, smiling at the camera as he watches the number of streamers go up. Each of the streamers were tagged with a number, you were number 26, fantastic.
Which always made you question how the hell did anyone have better connection that you, especially when you’re pretty sure you pressed right on the dot. Some sort of wizardry bullshit, or bots of course. Yet, these kinds of streams were only for members, of which you definitely were.
You laughed, thinking of the thumbnail he had. He must’ve posed for it in the same outfit before he started the stream.
“Hey guys!” Jimin flashed his ultra pure smile. 
Fluffing up his hair as he seduces his viewers through the camera, “Slots are full, hmm, I’m glad you’re all here.”
They way he speaks is husky, breathy, his eyes were dim and blinking more often. He even moans, holy fuck. He was laid back on a couch, from what you could see. The lights were more dimmed now, neon lights peaking from his left shining on his face.
He must’ve had what you think was the television on, as it was flashing against his face. His camera was still, must’ve been on a tripod.
“Yea, I’ve been busy―argh, sorry for the lack of stream this week. I was actually going to go to sleep, it’s really late here,” he speaks casually, smiling at the camera as he reads through the messages― the non-spamming one. You weren’t commenting though, you were more distracted by what he was doing.
He was wearing a dark sweater, his right shoulder was flexing. Maybe it was your gamer instincts to notice everything, observe everything. He was not just sitting around.
You felt ridiculous, were you actually imaging. No one else was pointing out his erratic breathing, for flustered cheeks. Everyone was asking him what he was doing today, how his day was― innocent things.
Opting to do it yourself you began to type.
peachbubbles: you’re cute when you’re blushing ;’)
Which apparently catches his eye as the side of his lip curls into a smirk, he chuckles patting the back of his nape, “Hmm, you’re observant, huh?”
“Peachy,” he winks at the camera. You felt awfully exposed at that moment, it was clear he was directing that to you.
He made you squirm and blush from the mere look on his face and the way he speaks. This was more than a stupid crush, you’ve been watching him for years and hell, he’s changed since the beginning. He’s so much more confident with himself now.
Since he’s noticed you, but doesn’t really know who you are you commented again.
peachbubbles: why don’t you show us what’s going on downstairs? <3
He seemed to see your comment again, which was easy to spot as yours mentioned a completely different topic from everyone else’s occasional ‘i love you’.
He shook his head humorously, “Downstairs,” hissing through his teeth, “You’re too smart, unlike most of the fans here. You actually think― with your head.”
He grins, reaching forward to the camera, making your heart race from how close he was, it felt realistic from your huge screen. He zooms out.
Your breathing hitches when he pulled back and relaxes on the couch. Everyone’s reaction was well, pretty similar to yours.
He has his legs sprawled out wide, his sweatpants pushed down. His hand fisting his own cock, he bites his lip reading all the lewd comments. Pulling at his balls with his other hand.
“I’d give you a prize if I could, darling,” He teases, flashing his perfect smile again.
His eyes perked around reading the comments, he picked out one in particular to read out.
“Ah... You’re all wondering why I chose to do this random stream, uhm, honestly. This may come as a surprise but I don’t think it is,” He pauses, mumbling a few words, cocking his head back and forth, “I got hella turned on watching, uhm, one of my favourite gamers.”
“She’s pretty hot, she was aggravated by this game, ugh, it’s pretty fucking cute,” you had a sense of jealousy, he was jerking off to the thought of a hot gamer he’s watched, fuck, she was be hot as fuck.
“Anyways, sadly, she had to end her stream before I could jack off to her,” sad indeed, though of course you felt kind of relieved that you won’t be watching your ultimate crush jacking off to some gamer that could be your rival.
If anything, you had just came off your stream.. right? Hell no, Jimin wouldn’t possibly be referring to you, no.
His face was now redder than it was before, he must’ve read the comments spilling with assumptions that he was dating them, having a crush and etc.
“She’s a great gamer! You might know her, she just passed a huge robot level on this game...” as if time had stopped, you awaited what he had to say. Holy fuck, maybe he was talking about you.
“Metal gear solid? Is it? I don’t know much about games like that but it seems cool, I mainly watch those streams for her,” he explained, rubbing his face shyly, “I don’t even watch the gameplay, just her face.”
“Fuck, that sounds creepy doesn’t it? It doesn’t? Thank god,” he sighed, relieved that most of his fans commented how they’d be grateful as fuck if he’d jack off to them.
Jimin leans into the camera, as if he’s whispering and telling a secret, “Hmm, I nut to her nearly everyday.”
He chuckles, leaning back onto the bedframe. His eyes reading through the comments before he playfully huffed.
“Her name? You guys want me to expose her? Hell no!”
He chuckles with an amused tone, shaking his head, “Well, if anything maybe you guys will like her more than me.” 
Damn. You don’t even know how to feel anymore, knowing that your ultimate crush is getting himself off with the imagery of you―you. You didn’t know if you should say something, hell no, if you did you’d get attacked by his raging fans.
God, look at him though. His eyes half shut, euphorically pulling at his balls and jerking himself off― you got so wet just staring at his face, not to mention the sight of his thickened cock in his hands.
Then rolls the comments.
parkhearts: you’re famous! slide in her dms, maybe you’ll get to slide in elsewhere too
babymochi: omg, get together! I ship.
bunbuns: She’s cute, omg, I watch her. Didn’t think she’d be his type, she’s so... cunning haha
iloveprkjm: She’d totes dom him honestly.
jiminsgirl: she’s not even that cute wth are y’all on
Jimin must’ve caught those comments because he sighs, stopping himself for a second as he responds, “She’s way too good for me. But hey, ‘bunbuns’. I’m pretty cunning too, that makes her and I compatible right?”
“And yea. She seems like a total bad girl, and yes, ‘iloveparkjm’ thank you, she could totally pull off a dom look and well I’d let her choke me any day.”
Your breath hitches. His tone was so serious, he wasn’t even laughing it off. He was just grinning like the cute ass he was, knowing well enough that whatever he said made everyone cream their pants.
And cue the thirsty comments.
itsjustpark: i’d let him choke me to death
berrychu: imagine sub jimin tied up though...
perkie: i’m so jealous
chimsgirl: here comes the thirsts and the jellys
More and more comments scrolled their way rapidly down the screen, Jimin’s facial expression was the same as yours―shocked but not surprised. He knew what he said and what would happen, god he loved the attention.
“You guys! Relax, it’s not like she knows I exist,” He laughed, before eyeing the camera and smirking, “I won’t cheat on you guys.”
Did you just cringe? Probably, god he said things that made all his girls die and squirm. You could probably feel the same as them but at the moment all you could think about was the fact that he just told the world he jerked off to you― indirectly but some fans caught on.
jiminsbitch: you guys could make a sex tape... that’d be pretty hot, ____’s hella hot.
heartsforhim: so it is ______
jiminsmine: _____? who’s this hoe
honeybuns: holy fuck imagine seeing him fuck someone.
perkie: i bet minnie knows the motions of the ocean ;) 
You god damned imagined the same thing. Shit, you got off on him too. What’s to stop you from actually messaging him... his fans or your pride.
“Geez, guys please focus on me and not your imagination of me right now,” Jimin teased, still going at himself.
Pushing your ridiculous thoughts away you focused on the now.
peachbubbles: i’m sure she’d love for you to fuck her
Jimin’s eyebrow quirked at your comment. What, he saw it through the floods of other comments, that’s ridiculous. 
“Welcome back from the dead peachy, thought you left,” He said, grinning to the camera as sweat begins to trial down his face.
You continued typing to him.
peachbubbles: are you close~
Jimin hummed, “Close enough.”
He read your comment again, it wasn’t just a coincidence then. You didn’t understand. Maybe you didn’t see other people commenting the same thing.
You began to type something else, maybe something he would do― at least that could solidify if he was actually focusing on your comment.
peachbubbles: i’d love to see you with a cockring
He didn’t respond. Maybe it was too forward or weird... maybe some guys didn’t like using toys. God, why’d you just ask him that, it’s kind of personal right. It’s definitely more daring, maybe he’s just weirded out or just didn’t see it.
He stares down at his cock, slick and wet. Pursing his lips and biting them as he nears his end.
“You know, I’ve never considered getting one,” He says, not looking back at the camera, “Also, aren’t cock rings more of a thing couples use.”
“Pleasures the girl as well as yourself,” Oh christ, why is he doing this to you.
He does enough by just looking into the camera as if it was a real person. His moans and whimpers, he was so shameless with sex and it was glorious. He tugs and rubs himself so well, quick yet stable. His forearms flexed all the way even though his hands were gently touching himself.
Then you could hear his quiet mumbling, “Maybe, ____, likes cockrings.” Chuckling to himself as he shakes his head.
Jimin smirks out of the blue, changing the pace, “Urh, I’m gonna cum. Fuck―uh.” He’s leaking. It’s hot, wet and sexy. 
He always wore the most sultry expression, his one eye half shut and the other completely. Trying his best to look at the camera as if it was a person, whilst his head jerks back in pleasure at his release. His white thick cum creaming out of his cock, all over his hands and thighs, with a name lingering on his lips.
“_____, shit― I fucking h-hope she knows I exist. I’d fuck her―so hard,” his breathing was erratic, he groans through his words, “I’ll take your advice guys―”
He chuckled, “I’ll text her.”
He was going to... to text her― that her was you. Oh god, what are you suppose to do. Play it cool, no way, that’s just fake. Tell him that you’ve been watching him all this time and would love for him to fuck you so hard, no way, that’s just pathetic.
Jimin cocks the camera back up to his face, with a knowing grin― a knowing grin that all his fans fucked themselves to him.
“I’ll see you guys in the next stream, wish me luck,” He smiled boyishly, before pointing a finger at the camera, “And please, do not send her hate or I will hate you.”
“Goodnight!” He waves towards the camera as the stream ends.
You mindlessly waved back. He seemed very serious about texting you―too serious, maybe he’s just playing with your emotions, you as in the fans. He loved causing a storm, though he wouldn’t bring attention to someone so... mindlessly.
Leaning back in your chair, fuck, you didn’t even get off. Rolling your eyes before tapping exit on his page. Getting your ass back onto twitter and reading the comments from your fans as always. Pretending that whatever just happened, never happened.
And then as the world seemed calm and happy.
A buzz killed the air. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking over to your side at your silenced phone. A message? God, who is it.
There wasn’t much you thought about, probably your friends begging you to go out with them for a fun night.
Peering over at the lit up screen your breath comes to a stop at the name. Instead of being your friend wanting to party and hang out―
parkjimin: heyyy~
It was him. Right, maybe you’ll just die.
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c. 2019
1K notes · View notes
naireides · 5 years
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i’ll let you play the role
posted this on ao3 literally 2 mins before the ep but anyway here’s a fic about josephine!clarke being all i see it, i like it, i want it, i got it with bellamy enjoy
rated m | wc: 3.1k
warning: dubious consent for obvious reasons since it’s josephine inhabiting clarke’s body so.
read here on ao3
She has to admit, as far as vessels go, her parents made a good choice.
This girl-- Clarke-- had a similar likeness to her original self. Blonde hair, pale skin, lithe figure. The only differences were the eyes, bright blue, and the only slightly distracting chest that peeked out from under the deep vee of her neckline.
Yes, as far as vessels go this one would do nicely.
After their initial welcome, her father and mother had given her a run down of ths Clarke person. A girl born in the stars before being sent to earth to fight for her life, the two apocalypses that she managed to survive before showing up here, on Sanctum, with her friends. Friends who she would have to convince that she was actually Clarke, at least until after the naming ceremony was over. Her father didn’t tell her what he had planned, just asked her to bear with him until then, after which she could finally don her real name.
They left her with a change of clothes-- a boring pair of jeans and a dark tank top, nothing like the fine fabrics and custom tailored clothing she was used to-- and she slowly strips out of the dress, examining herself in the mirror while twirling a lock of hair around her finger.
Not too bad, although it was clear that this Clarke didn’t care much about her appearance, judging from the plain clothes to the choppy haircut and nails that were bitten down to the quick.
But she had to blend in, so with a sigh she pulled on the clothing and finger combed her hair before heading out into the world as Clarke Griffin.
-
Sanctum hasn’t changed much.
The main buildings are all the same with a few new structures in place. People don’t say anything to her as she walks by which only gets under her skin slightly. She’s Josephine Lightbourne after all. They should be honoured to be in her presence.
Still, she continues, relishing in finally being able to walk and move and do as she pleases. The naming ceremony is in a few short hours and after that she can finally drop this ridiculous charade.
It does leave her with some free time on her hands though, and, as she was debating whether or not she could try and sneak back into her old bedroom, she spots him.
Her father mentioned Bellamy to her, dark haired and broad shouldered, Clarke’s closest confidant, but he didn’t mention that he was so gorgeous.
Josephine feels a spark of interest flare within her, as well as a spark of something else deep in her stomach as she examines him from afar, a coy smile playing around her lips.
He’s not as tall as she’d imagine, but he’s built with muscular arms and legs, and a patchy beard that she imagines must feel great scratching against skin. His hair is slicked back bust she can see a few tendrils of curls freeing themselves from the sides and she just wants to run her fingers through it and tug.
He’s talking-- or rather, arguing judging from the tenseness in both their stances-- to a brunette. Josephine barely spares her a glance. As far as she could tell this Bellamy boy deserves someone better than that bitch. Someone cuter and shorter and who looks far better with him than that pinched faced looking bitch. Someone who won’t snap at him before storming off like she’s doing right now.
The argument ends with the woman stomping away and Bellamy closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He seems stressed.
She figures she could help him with that.
“Hey,” she calls, when she’s just a few paces away and he starts, glancing in her direction. She grins at him.
“Hey,” he says, eyeing her a bit suspiciously. “You seem awfully chipper this morning.”
She quickly tries to school her face into a more neutral expression. “Yeah, well. You know. Good night and all that.”
Bellamy smirks at her, though it seems clipped at the corners. “Yeah I bet. Missed you for a while on the dance floor.”
She hums noncommittally. “You look a bit rough.”
He winces slightly. “Tough morning I guess.”
“Something happen between you and… her?” She struggles to place a name to the face that Bellamy was arguing with and hopes that he doesn’t notice her slight stumble.
He doesn’t seem to as a heaves a sigh, scrubbing a weary hand down his face. “Things have been… strained between Echo and I since we came back down. Sometimes I feel like the only reason we worked before is because we were literally in a bubble. Now it seems like every five minutes we’re fighting about some stupid shit.”
“So what was that fight about? Did you break up with her?” she asks, intrigued.
“Yes. No. Fuck I don’t know,” he sighs. “Things are just complicated.”
Josephine hesitates for a second before putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should be with someone who makes you happy, Bellamy. And if you’re not happy with Echo…”
“Yeah I know,” he says. “I just wish things were easier.”
“I know,” she says before letting her hand slide into his. He looks down at their joined hands for a second but doesn’t say anything, doesn’t pull his hand out of hers. “Let’s go get a drink, yeah?” she says, tugging him behind her.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit early for drinks?” he asks, bemused, but her lets her pull him along anyway.
She throws a smile at him over her shoulder. “Come on, Bellamy, live a little.”
They end up in the small bar tucked away in the corner of the main square. It’s mostly empty and she leaves Bellamy to find them seats while she gets them drinks from the bar. It’s nothing much, just a couple shots and something called Jo Juice which she’s absolutely delighted to learn of, but he still lifts an eyebrow at her when she makes it back to their table.
“You trying to give me alcohol poisoning?” he asks as she sets down the tray in front him and she laughs.
“A few shots aren’t going to kill you,” she says, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, and he just rolls his eyes and gives her that exasperated smile. “Come one,” she grabs a shot and lifts it towards him. “Cheers.”
“What are cheers-ing to?” he asks, grabbing his own glass.
Josephine smirks at him and says, “To whatever the hell we want.”
She doesn’t know why his eyes widen like that or why a muscle in his jaw twitches, but he meets her glass in the centre with a clink nonetheless. “I can drink to that,” he murmurs and then throws it all back, wincing a bit as it burns its way down.
She watches the column of his throat bob as he swallows, imagining what it would feel like to trace it with her teeth, before she downs her own drink as well.
She doesn’t say much as they drink, instead letting Bellamy get everything off his chest about his relationship with Echo, only interjecting ever so often with a quip that makes him smile. He has a nice smile and she finds herself wanting to see more of it.
The more they drink the more relaxed he becomes. He tells her about his time on the Ring, when Clarke was apparently stuck on the ground while he was safe in space. It’s almost nice, listening to him animatedly go on and on.
The lines on his face seem to disappear, little by little, and his curls start making themselves known a bit more. It’s also nice to see him looking more like a twenty something year old and not Atlas holding the world up on his shoulders.
When the last shot is downed and their glasses are empty, Josephine feels light in a way she hasn’t in a long time. Bellamy does too she imagines as she looks at him sidelong.
During the course of this little venture his foot ended up on her chair, appropriating some of her space, and his head is tipped back, eyes closed, content. She has one of her hands on his thigh, slowly inching its way up as they spoke, mindlessly tracing patterns into his skin.
They’re not drunk off course, she doesn’t want him to get drunk. She just figures that he could use some help to loosen up a little. Which she did. Although, the more he drank the more he looked at her in that way. It’s both heavy and light at the same time, filled with hope and wonder and love. She finds herself wondering just how blind this Clarke girl was to not see the utter devotion in this man’s eyes whenever he looks at her.
Still thought, there’s that tug in her gut, the one that wants and she’s Josephine Lightbourn, not Clarke Griffin. She’s not used to wanting. She’s used to taking.
So she leans in close to him, so close that her breasts almost brush against his arm and says, “Come on. I want to show you something.”
He barely cracks open an eye and huffs, that same lazy smirk from before playing around his lips. “You really are full of surprises today, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea,” she says, tugging on his hand. “C’mon.”
They slip around to the back, where she knows there’s a secret entrance to where she used to live. No one would be guarding it, no one she would have to worry about running off and tattling to her father.
“How’d you even find this place?” he asks as she clears some of the bush and bramble out of the way.
“Where’d you think I got all those pretty dresses from?” she grins, quick, before twisting the knob to reveal a narrow, dusty hallway. “Follow me.”
The hallway leads directly into her room, and after a short trek down the length of it and up a couple stairs, it opens into the back of her old closet and she breathes a sigh of relief when she finds that, for the most part, her room seems to be untouched.
“What is this place?” he asks, looking around somewhat awestruck.
She runs her fingers over the easels stacked against the wall, all of her old paintings still here. “This was Josephine Lightbourne’s room,” she says, willing away the blurriness in her eyes. It’s so odd to speak of herself in the third person, to act like she’s dead.
“Russell’s daughter?”
“Yeah. She died a few years back.” Her fingers graze against the portrait she was looking for and she pulls it out. “This is her.”
It’s a self portrait she did, one of her lasts and it feels like a completely different person now. She hasn’t seen her real face in a while.
She turns to Bellamy, holding it up side by side to her face. “Think we look alike?” she asks, twirling a strand of her around her finger with her head cocked to the side.
The moment draws out and Bellamy remains quiet. She’s almost worried that she did something wrong, that something happened in those past five minutes to give her away when he shakes his head.
“Nah,” he says, taking a step closer to her so that their toes almost touch. “You’re Clarke. You’ll always look like Clarke to me no matter how many questionable hair choices you make.”
She finds herself laughing. “That’s a bit rude don’t you think. I don’t make fun of your beard.”
“What’s wrong with my beard?” he asks, affronted.
“It’s ugly.”
“Echo liked it.”
That’s all it takes for her. “Yeah, well, you aren’t exactly dating her anymore, are you?” she says, stepping into his space and gazing up at him. “Why should it matters what she thinks anymore?”
“You’re right,” he murmurs, a dark heat smoldering in his eyes as he looks down at her. “It shouldn’t.”
When she smiles, it’s all Josephine and no Clarke. “Good,” she says, before leaning up and kissing him.
His entire body jerks and then goes tense, but she doesn’t stop, slowly letting her lips press against his savouring it. Eventually he relaxes, his hands finding their way to her hips and he kisses her back, slowly, tentatively. She takes the opportunity to card her fingers through his hair, ruffling it up a little and he growls when they get caught on a knot, pulling it. The sound is unbearably hot and she’s reminded of just how much she loves this, how much she loves feeling hands and mouths and the heat of skin against skin.
She pushes him back into a wall and he stumbles a little but rights himself just in time, his hand moving to cup her jaw while the other comes down hard on her ass, squeezing it. He changes this angle of the kiss, the scruff of his beard scratching against her cheek and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth.
He makes that sound again, the one low in his throat and his hand continues to knead her ass and god, she has never wanted to get fucked so hard in her entire life.
They eventually do break apart, panting for air, and he looks wrecked, his expression a mix of half horror and half lust as he looks at her and she can’t have that, not at all. Her fun has only just started.
“Clarke--”
“I thought of you,” she breathes, slowly kissing her way down the slope of his neck, “When I was all alone. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
He makes another sound, a cross between a groan and a sigh when she nibbles his earlobe. “I know, Madi already told me about the radio calls remember?”
Josephine doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about with those radio calls but she doesn’t care. She just presses on.
“I’m not talking about that,” she says, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. “I used to think about you when I was alone. I used to think about you fucking me, Bellamy.”
“Fuck,” he grunts, letting his head fall back. “Clarke you can’t--”
“I used to think about you pinning me down and making me come for hours. You’d like that huh? Having me at your mercy?” she taunts, grinding her hips into his. He groans again, soft and breathy.
“Oh god. Yeah. Yeah I’d love to make you feel good princess,” he breathes, squeezing her hips so hard she hopes it leaves bruises.
“You could, if you wanted to. All you have to do is ask.”
“I’m not going to turn you into a rebound, Clarke,” he says softly and she just leans up and kisses him deep and wet again.
“You won’t. Trust me. I want this,” she assures him. “I want all of it. All of you.” The hesitance that clouded his face disappears slightly and she continues, “I used to think about all the ways you could fuck me. How much you’d love to just get me on my hands and knees, pull my head back and get your hand around my throat.”
His eyes flutter open but only for a second as she bites down on his pulse point. He stops pressing his hips into hers but she’s too far gone to care about. Her panties are already soaked through and the heat between her legs is almost unbearable. She needs him to give her something soon, his hands or mouth or cock, she doesn’t care once it’ll help alleviate the ache.
“I still think about you, you know,” she teases, trailing her fingers over the lip of his pants and feeling his muscles twitch and jump in response. “I thought about you last night when I let that guy fuck me. I wished it was you instead.”
“Enough Clarke,” he says, and when he speaks his tone is cold, a complete change from before. She almost gets whiplash from the 180 and almost doesn’t hear him as he presses on, too busy trying to gather her bearings.
“You’re not Clarke,” he says, glaring at her. The anger radiates off him in waves and she shrinks back.
“Of course I’m Clarke, Bellamy,” she says. “Who else would I be?”
“I know Clarke and she doesn’t act like you,” he growls. “So I’ll ask you one time: who the hell are you and what have you done with Clarke?”
She tries to laugh. “Do you hear yourself Bellamy? Maybe you had too much to drink or--”
“Bullshit,” he snaps and she flinches away from him.
“Bellamy, who else could I be? I’m Clarke. I love you,” she pleads and he stops in his tracks for a second, his entire face going slack before he shakes his head.
“That’s how I know that you’re lying,” he says, an undercurrent of sadness colouring his tone.
Quickly, before she can even blink, he has her pinned against the wall, crowding her into it as he grasps her wrists behind her back.
“I don’t know what sick, twisted shit you’ve done or what you have planned, but I do know this,” he breathes into her air, voice tight with anger. “You’re not Clarke, and when I find out what you’ve done to her there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Josephine stops fighting against him, recognising her defeat, but she still smiles, just as coy and just as secretive.
“I’d like to see you try,” she says, giggling a little. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
His grip on her wrists tighten and she hisses at the slight pain. She can feel his smile against the back of her head but tell that it contains not an ounce of humour.
“No,” he says, grabbing her and shoving her forward towards the door. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. Come on, let’s go.” he shoves her forward again and it’s only his tight grip on her that keeps her from falling down. “I need to have a little chat with Russell about where the hell Clarke is.”
She snorts as he leads her down the corridors, clearly not knowing where he’s going, but determined nonetheless. She can’t help but admire his spark. He really would be a lot of fun if he wasn’t so hung up on Clarke.
“Clarke Griffin is dead,” she hisses as he leads her out a set of double doors. “And you’ve just started a war.”
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blackpinkofficial · 5 years
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[ARTICLE] EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT BLACKPINK.
Coachella has a long history of overlooking women, and 2019 shows some big changes: not only are Western women getting more of a chance, but Japanese and South Korean bands too. As Blackpink takes to the stage in California, we take a look at perhaps East Asia's biggest girlband
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t has probably not escaped your notice by now that K-Pop is kinda big worldwide. BTS are getting the kind of fawning adoration in London and New York that The Beatles once got, and other bands are taking part in the Korean Invasion too: Blackpink, a relatively young South Korean girlband, will become the first K-Pop act to ever play Coachella.
It’s worth noting Coachella has expanded its vision to other parts of Asia as well: Perfume will also be the first Japanese pop act to play the huge California festival. But Blackpink are particularly notable as they have achieved staggering success since their debut single, 'BOOMBAYAH', in 2016: the sort of success only a few bands, like Girl’s Generation, knew before them. But where their predcessors failed to break the western market, Blackpink look set to become international superstars.
K-Pop might not be your thing: it draws a lot on western pop tropes, is almost impossibly slick, and as an industry it isn’t without its fair share of problems. However, if the music or the atmosphere isn’t for you, it’s still worth getting to know one of the biggest girlbands in the world: Blackpink are perfectly engineered to get stuck in your head, and are a fascinating insight into what pop music is today.
Backstory
Blackpink, like a lot of South Korean pop music, came out of the country’s particular system of training: a kind of pop music conservatoire. YG Entertainment, the group’s Korean team, house their own training program which the band members began to join around 2010. YG tried potential band members out all across the world, which shows in the international lives of the four members: Jisoo is a South Korean native, as was Jennie who went on to spend time in New Zealand and is fluent in English; Rosé, who lived in Melbourne, auditioned in Sydney; Lisa auditioned in her native Thailand. The preference is for young, ethnically Korean performers fluent in the language but that’s flexible: Lisa didn’t speak a word of Korean before coming to train.
Arriving in Seoul, the band estimated that there were between 10-20 aspiring performers all going through the same training: 12 hours a day, seven days a week, learning to dance, sing and rap. Monthly tests helped to prove people’s strengths and eliminate the weakest in the pack: one scored an A, B or C. There are plenty of videos out there on YouTube of people who flunked out of the training to become a K-Pop star.
The members all started at different times: Jennie joined in 2010, Lisa and Jisoo in 2011, and Rose in 2012. They debuted in 2016. It was hard training, difficult for those who had moved away from home, but the four bonded, and are all close friends. Which is good when you only get one day off a fortnight.
The members
As previously mentioned, there are four members: Jennie, Lisa, Jisoo and Rosé. Jennie often leads off songs and is a solid thriple-threat; Jisoo and Rosé are usually the ones bringing you vocals; Lisa is a top notch rapper.
Becoming an 'idol' in South Korea also carries with it the burden of needing to seem astonishingly perfect. One could argue this might be why bands like SixBomb go through extensive plastic surgery (they featured both their before and after appearances in the video for their song ‘Becoming Prettier’) or why the lead singer of boy band SHINee was found dead in his apartment in 2017 with a note saying he was “broken from inside”. It also leads to their members having to portray images that are jointly virginal and also deeply available: one of the first big scandals involved Jong Hyun back in 2010, back when South Korea's paparazzi started to boom. K-Pop fans can be known to be particularly judgmental of acts: take for example the infamous ‘black ocean’ of 2008, when the ur-Girls Generation, SNSD, came on stage to a purposeful blackout of the entire audience’s glowsticks as a protest. You can hear them fighting back the tears as they perform to what looks like an empty stadium.
Blackpink seem interested in getting away from that expectation. “We always wanted to be out there, to be more true to ourselves and a little more free,” Jennie told Billboard earlier this year. “Even we can get things wrong sometimes. We want to just show them the real us.”
K-Pop idols are known for often being very fluid as to how many creative projects they have on the go: bands like After School, for example, where members ‘graduate’ and new ones enter, also features sub-groups Orange Caramel and A.S. Red & Blue. Girls Generation, LOONA and other big bands also have sub-groups and solo careers. Blackpink is no different: though they’re still going strong, Jennie has also released her first single as a solo artist. It’s sort of like the Avengers all having their own movies: a way of maintaining the brand without over-working the main unit.
Songs and albums
Like most K-Pop bands, Blackpink had a debut performance of a debut single which was the litmus test over whether they would be a bop or a flop. That single, Boombayah, is a personal favourite: it’s probably the most dynamic and poppy of their universally dynamic and poppy music, not dropping into anything sultry or slow. It’s also got a great dance routine (part of the fun of K-Pop) and the video became the fastest debut music video of a K-Pop act to reach 100 million views on YouTube.
Their 2018 single 'Ddu-Du Ddu-Du' is the highest-charting K-Pop single in the US Billboard charts, and is a bit more sexy and vicious. New single, ‘Kill This Love’, continues a very similar vibe: lots of horns, easier to grind to than throw shapes to.
It’s interesting to hear how the most successful parts of western pop music have been absorbed and fused with East Asia’s own highly successful, high octane pop industry: their songs always feature rap, but their choruses are often sounds rather than words (‘ddu-du ddu-du’, for example, is effectively onamatopeia for a machine gun bullet round) so anyone can sing along.
When it comes to albums, Blackpink have so far released two EPs: Square Up in 2018, and Kill This Love in 2019. In Japan they released an EP Blackpink and a studio album Blackpink in your area. A lot of songs overlap between these various releases, but your safest bet to get the whole is to listen to Blackpink in your area.
Live performances
As mentioned before, choreography is a huge part of what Blackpink do: K-Pop bands are known for their specific, tight group dance routines that are the same every time they perform the song that it goes along with, and the bands tend to release rehearsal footage on their YouTube channels so people can learn the dance too. It’s also rare to watch people cover the songs without the expectation being they also do the routine alongside. It’s hard to stress how popular these routines and the choreography videos are: within two days, the ‘Kill This Love’ choreo video had over 14m views.
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Generally, the songs work to give each of the members a part that shows off their talents as rappers, singers and/or dancers. Though the band don’t have writing credits on their songs, they do have an input into their material, including making sure each of them gets the best part for them. Any performance will give you a good idea of what each brings to the table, though perhaps ‘BOOMBAYAH’ will do this most comprehensively: it was, after all, their first outing.
The videos
If you’ve never seen a K-Pop video, you’re in for a bloody treat. Whether it’s the crispness of SHINee’s ‘1 of 1’ (don’t watch if you don’t want to buy a suit after watching) or the stern, sassy dance video to CL’s ‘Hello Bitches’ (choreographed by Parris Goebel, who also did Justin Bieber’s ‘Sorry’ and Ciara’s ‘Level Up’) they are real production numbers.
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Blackpink are no exception, though even in a few short years the vision of their videos has grown a lot: while the video for Boombayah serves you early 00s Rihanna, or even Britney and Madonna’s ‘Me Against The Music’, 'Kill This Love' is just a huge camp treat that sits somewhere between ‘Bad Romance’, ‘Bitch I’m Madonna’ and the Pussycat Dolls’ ‘Don’t Cha’. It also contains the classic turn-of-the-millennium image of a woman crying while driving a car, a trope I’m glad to see the return of.
Who should I listen to next if I love Blackpink?
Take the plunge into K-Pop! It's a vast and varied world, but there are lots of brilliant girlbands who will bring something new to the table for you. Spotify has a lot of phenomenally good playlists to delve into it, so just listen to a few songs and see what it is you like and work from there.
190412 GQ MAGAZINE
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evien-stark · 4 years
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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 37
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Tony was in the middle of going between writing frantically on his holo-board and then typing things into his computer. Clearly busy.
“I can handle SHIELD. And you’ve got a lot on your plate, it looks like.” Trying to build the new specs of his suit. Always working. Always improving. “I’ll stop by once I’m done. I’ll have to change anyway, I have a meeting after.” So they couldn’t keep you there all day. Or kidnap you or do anything shady. You were expected places.
As you approached, he turned away from his work to give you a little kiss on the cheek. But he put down his pen so that he could take the blue tinted lenses from his pocket and hand them to you. “Take these.”
It was just supposed to be their preliminary tests, whatever that meant. To put you on their little grid or whatever it was. To find out what your true potential was before you started training. “I’m not trying to start trouble...” Bringing in those high-tech specs would definitely piss Fury off, for sure.
“They’re coded to you. Anyone else tries to put them on they just look like sunglasses. They won’t catch you. I promise.” Giving that winning Stark grin. Outsmarting SHIELD was becoming his new favorite thing- that and protecting you. You suspected he’d be listening in if you brought them…
But maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Just in case. Just in case. You still didn’t fully trust these people after everything they’d put you through. Aside that, you didn’t want Tony to be stressing about you being in some secret government facility with no access to you if things got strange. So, with that in mind, you took them, slipping them into the inside pocket of your jacket. “Alright. But, really, it’s just supposed to be an hour or two. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“And I’m the one that gets lectured about not tempting fate.” A roll of his eyes and a scoff as he turned back to his board. You gave him a little playful smack on the backside, pulling a laugh out of him.
The sass of this man. Honestly.
The drive to their new warehouse setup was blessedly short. Almost like they’d picked a spot parked a few miles from the house on purpose. Knowing them…? Anything was possible. Maybe it’d just be easier for everyone if they were that close, you supposed. Since you’d be working with them for the next few months. Whatever made it go faster, that was better.
As before, they’d sent someone for you, which wasn’t unusual. But it made you a little bit nervous. While you didn’t want Happy mixed up in stuff like this either, it may have made you feel better to have some security around. All you had was yourself and a pair of sunglasses, and as far as SHIELD was concerned- just yourself.
You tried to settle your nerves as the car pulled around the various checkpoints of the compound and brought you right up to the front door. There was something annoying about having to pass yet another security check as you walked through the door and received a pat down. The officer (dressed quite aggressively in a bullet proof vest and a rifle slung across his back) pulled the glasses out of your pocket, looked at them, and then handed them back to you and gave you a pass.
Easy.
They were acting like they were under threat. But they’d been expecting you. So all you could surmise was that Fury was putting on a show for you. Much like everything else he did. Letting you know he was in charge. Not you.
The charade continued as you were shown to a small conference room with blindly bare walls, a long table and an uncomfortable chair to sit in. And continued further when he made you wait for fifteen minutes before finally blessing you with his presence.
Not only his, but someone dressed like a doctor as well. Your nerves flared.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for making me wait.”
He grinned with a little shake of his head. “Ready to work? That’s good. First thing’s first. We need some vials of blood.”
“Absolutely not.” The two words rushed out of you, clipped and incredulous.
“This will go a lot faster if you just do what I say.” Very suddenly it felt like you were in a lock down. And you’d willingly walked into it. “We can ascertain a lot more information that way.”
“I said no. Don’t ask me again.” Crossing your arms. SHIELD wanted your blood? How much sketchier could this get? Even if he was telling the truth- if they could see things in your blood that were super powered or whatever… wouldn’t hospitals before have seen the same thing? You’d been to a doctor before. Had blood taken before. If something was off, wouldn’t everyone else have been able to see it?
No one had ever mentioned anything like that to you.
Fury put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “Are you gonna be difficult all day?”
“If you keep asking me for blood.”
This was not off to a great start. But that was his fault. He just kept on shaking his head until waving away the doctor that had come in. When they’d left, he finally sat down, folding his hands together. “From our reports we’ve already gathered a lot of your data. We’re just gonna double check our work.”
He slid a folder your way, one with your name on it- your codename, which they still hadn’t changed. Although to be fair you hadn’t told them what you’d like to be called. Opening it you looked at the sparse details inside.
 Intelligence: 2 Strength: 1 Speed: 1 Durability: 3 EP: 1 FA: 1
 Their grading system. You weren’t sure how high it went. If it went out of ten you were doing pretty poor, all things considered. And EP and FA you had no idea what that meant. “So what do you need today?”
“We’re gonna hook you up to machines, old school. Make you run on a treadmill and look at some stuff on a screen. Like I said, we’ve got a lot on you already. Those numbers are pretty much set.”
“So I joined a gym?” Still playing unimpressed. Because, yet again, Fury was talking like SHIELD knew everything about you already, and yet was still asking you to do things for them. Honesty might as well have been this man’s worst enemy.
He looked very unamused as you closed the folder and glanced back up at him. “You’re gonna join nothing if you keep mouthing off. Did I hire two Starks? Or can you be your own person for one second.”
At this you made a face. “Not trusting you or liking this situation does not make me Tony.”
“Your mouth does.”
He may have had a point. Your sarcastic retorts may have been borrowed. But sometimes it was easier to pretend to be someone far more confident and in control…
Suddenly Fury stood up and motioned for you to do the same, something you did much to his relief. Maybe you should start using a lot more of that. It may have helped in the situation. “Come on. We’ve got work to do and I don’t have all day to babysit you.”
“I don’t have all day, either. I have a meeting in two hours.” Letting him know, though you’d already sent that information over. Just doubling down on that you would not be here all day.
Following him out the door and down the hall, you found a terribly cliched room behind the next door he opened. He wasn’t kidding. A treadmill with wires hanging from the ceiling and a screen ahead. Lucky you’d worn sneakers. “You’re… serious?” He wanted you to run around and … do what?
“Dead serious. Get comfortable. If you need a tank top we’ll provide one. You can’t wear that.” Nodding to your jacket and sweater.
Giving him a very distrusting look, “Why?”
“See those?” He pointed to the wires hanging, pads at the ends of each one. “Those need to be on your skin. If you make me explain every minute detail it’s gonna take a lot longer.”
Finally, fed up, you turned fully to him. “What’s your problem? Can you treat me like a person for even one second? I’m not a robot, or someone for you to just push from A to B. If we’re working together, you’d better catch a better attitude. Quick.”
Without another word you turned away from him, pulling your sweater off and dropping it to the floor, leaving you in a spaghetti strap shirt. You’d come with the idea that they would be putting you to work. So it wasn’t a problem. Gym clothes.
Still, it was strange to see him looking away, arms crossed. Shy? Shy about you doing exactly what he’d told you to do? Although you appreciated the momentary lapse, his showing of humanity for once. “Give me a reason to catch a better attitude and I just might.” Still grouchy, though, as he said this. Then he left.
Two SHIELD attendants were not far behind, helping you up onto the treadmill after and sticking those pads to your skin. There was no telling what they were recording, but you supposed it must have been important. Two went on your temples, one on your forehead, two on your neck, one on your chest, and a few on your arms. They instructed you to watch the screen very carefully and try not to trip.
The speed was going to ramp up every so often, indicated by an instruction on the screen ahead of you. Only a few seconds after they left the machine started. It was a brisk walk, basically, and images started flashing in front of you. Unintelligible nonsense at first. Shapes. Numbers. Colors. Random people you’d never seen before.
Just as Justin Hammer flitted across your awareness the track started going faster and you moved into a jog. More people you didn’t know- Ivan Vanko- shapes again- then buildings- Obadiah- destroyed buildings- numbers again. Equations. Some you knew, some beyond you. The speed increased again. The Expo was burning. Stark Industries’ front lawn- the labs collapsing- numbers, more numbers… products- soda, water- pills it looked like?
Explosions in Monaco- the speed went up again now sending you into a full run. You were out of breath. To your surprise you’d been at this for twenty minutes. Colors- colors- stones- blue- bright blue- intense weather- snow and rain- some empty place-
Barely keeping up on the treadmill, hands steady on the sides- blood- blood-
“Hey- I need- this is about all I can do-” Not knowing who you were calling out to as a series of lights flashed across the screen, giving you an incredible headache. The track went faster. “Fury!” Someone had to be watching, right? Scientists in labcoats on the other side of the screen scribbling nonsense on pads-
Somebody- anybody-
“Hey!”
At your scream the treadmill finally started to slow, enough for you to safely jump off. The rip of the pads from your skin was an annoyance at best. You were more concerned with evening out, hands on your knees, taking breaths in with your nose and out through your mouth. Was that the way it went? Or was it the other way around?
Not sure. But this seemed to be helping. So you kept it up.
A water bottle came into your field of view and you gratefully took it, standing, snapping the cap open and guzzling half the contents. Fury was looking over a folder- yours you presumed. “Not bad. Take a minute to clean yourself up and I’ll meet you in the other room.”
“Not bad?” Still slightly breathless as you asked this. “What does that mean?” What the hell had you been looking at? What were they testing for? Was any of this really that important?
“Just take it easy.” Even though he was talking to you a lot more kindly than he previously had been, this irked you, too. For some reason. Maybe it was just him. Fresh annoyance coming on when he simply walked out the door and left you there.
You pushed out a sigh and crouched again. Controlling your breathing. Doing exactly what he’d asked and taking your time. As long as it took for you to get back to relatively normal. Then going to the back of the room where you finally noticed a towel waiting for you and some fresh wipes. How nice. Well at least someone was looking out for you.
After finishing the water and toweling and cleaning off, you put your jacket back on, hanging your sweater over your shoulder for now. Peeking your head out of the room, you poked an agent on the shoulder as they walked past. “Bathroom?”
As soon as they pointed at the door a few feet down the hall, that’s where you went. Taking even more time to relieve yourself, wash your hands, splash some cold water on your face and dry off again. Cleaning up just a little more. Presentable. Decent.
Then, and only when you were ready, did you leave the bathroom to go to the room you’d first met Fury in. To your surprise, Natasha was there too. They were standing at the side of the table, going over your file- or your results- so you didn’t stop to sit.
“You moved a few points in some categories. That’s not easy to do.” Natasha smiled at you.
You weren’t sure enough of the situation to offer one back. “That’s a good thing?”
“Moved up, she’s saying. Yes. Bad intel more than anything.” So they were impressed with you? Was that a good thing? You guessed it may have been. Or maybe they were doing that thing that they did. Buttering you up. For what you still had no idea. You’d already agreed to work with them. “There’s one more thing we need to test before you can go today.”
“What’s that?” Feeling a soft sense of relief that it would soon be over and you could return to your corporate life until tomorrow.
“This.”
It happened almost too quick for you to catch. The shock and horror crackling out from Natasha was what caught you first. Not that Fury was drawing his weapon from his hip-
 Or the ear shattering bang in the air-
 “NICK!”
Not your voice-
Stumbling a few feet back from the force. Hand reaching out as your knees went weak, hitting against the wall. “Did you- did you just-” Breathing going shallow. There was a high pitched whine in the air. “Did you-”
Pain bolted through your side and that’s where your hands went next as you slammed a shoulder against the wall. Feeling a rush of warmth escape. Pour out over your fingers. “Did you just-” Stumbling over your words. “Did you just-”
“Nick what the fuck!”
Someone was at your side- Natasha you realized, just as your knees gave out and you slid to sit on the floor. You started in on a full body shiver. Were you still breathing? Where was-
Did he just-
Were you-
 Nick Fury had just shot you point blank.
 He came up into your field of view. “Would’ve been easier if you’d just given me your blood when I asked.”
“Get a med team in conference room one-”
“Belay that order.”
Your hands were pressing, trying helplessly to hold anything in- hers were pressing, too- “What were you thinking!”
Had that really happened? Was this happening right now? Were you going into shock? Familiar noises- A shot- a bang- shrieks- shouting- gunfire- a blast-
The door in the room flew back to the opposite side of the room. Nick Fury was nowhere to be seen- oh- no wait- he was on the other side of the room too- And…
“Hey, look at me- look at me, honey- step back or you’re next.” Tony’s face came into focus as the support of Natasha’s hands faded. No doubt because he’d just threatened her. He was there- Iron Man- Tony- “Talk to me, hey- hey...” Soft as he put a hand over where yours were clutching. “JARVIS I need vitals.”
“She’s fine.” Fury’s voice, tight. Somewhere.
What was happening?
“Try me again and you’re not getting up a second time.” Tony growled at him, you realized he was holding up his other hand. Repulsor ready.
“Tony-” You breathed out, quivering still, reaching up to try and hold on to him.
But he took your hands and put them back where they were. Blood. There was so much blood. “Right here. Hold right here and eyes on me. I’m gonna lift you-”
“Do not take her out of this room.”
Natasha whipped towards him. “Have you lost your mind??”
“I watched her shake off broken ribs and a collapsed lung at Stark Industries. We watched her walk off a severe head injury at the house, a burn injury at the Expo- prove me wrong and you can have your damn med team. Check her vitals again.”
Impressive, you thought to yourself, that you caught most of that. Or all of it. What was he really saying, though? Your shivering had stopped.
“JARVIS-”
“There were other ways to test for healing factor, Nick, are you crazy?” It spoke volumes that not even Natasha knew what he was capable of. What he was going to do next.
He scoffed. “Oh, please it was one bullet.”
“Well thanks for not unloading your fucking gun into me you fucking psycho!” Finally you found your voice, heat from pain turning into quick anger.
“There. Look. She’s fine.”
A rush of coolness touched your face, something you were very appreciative of, and you leaned your cheek into Tony’s palm. His mask lifted up, revealing just how pale he was over all of this. “Look at me. Talk to me. JARVIS says you’re stabilizing- sort of- not that I’m not ecstatic- but… you gotta talk to me...” He was absolutely spooked. Out of his depths.
Softly you smiled at him. Absurdity of the situation waning- realizing that… someone had shot you. Nick Fury had shot you. And Tony, at home, had come right away… “Hey.”
“Hey.” He smiled back at you, uneasily so. “I think it’s time to go to the hospital.”
“She just needs to lie down. She has something we call healing factor. I had her at a 3 but I think we’re gonna bump her up to a 4, considering.” Fury was standing, smartly, a few feet away. Although he was slightly curved in on himself. In pain.
Good.
Though you wished you’d been cognizant enough to have seen Tony blast him off his feet.
“Healing factor is an ability to heal outside the normal limits of a regular human.” Natasha offered, looking extremely uncomfortable. “And there are other ways to test for it.” Giving Fury quite the dirty look.
“She wouldn’t let me.”
Sitting a little more up, Tony put an arm around you, steadying you. Directing a glare Fury’s way, “Gee whiz, had I known my options were be shot or give a drop of blood, I would have pricked my finger for you.”
“You’re fine. We’ll take you to the recovery room. The less stressed you are, the faster it goes.” His know it all attitude was really pissing you off. Much more today than any other day considering the dude had shot you.
“I’m taking her home.” Tony seemed on the same page. Terribly furious. You’d rarely seen him this angry.
“We still need to run some tests.”
Tony helped you to your feet, and you felt another bloom of pain, clutching at your stomach with a hiss. “No. You don’t seem to get it.” Words as sharp as a blade. “We’re done here. Our involvement ended when you pulled a gun on her.”
Fury stepped closer, waving an authoritarian hand. “Oh- please. It was a small bullet. Went right through her. And that’s not your call to make.”
Tony raised his, the sound the repulsor beam charging lit up the air. “Why don’t you try drawing on me. See what happens.”
Natasha quickly stood between them, although she gave Fury a pointed shove. “Get out of here. You’re just making things worse. We’re gonna have a very serious talk about this later.” For a moment you imagined she must have been the boss, the way she was talking to him- and the way that she curbed him to heel, with a scoff and a turn and then he left.
Tony sniffed some air in, “You gonna ask us to stay too? Because I gotta tell you, I’m just about done listening to government agents.”
“What Fury did was way out of line. I had no idea he was going to do that.”
“I so believe you.” Tony made a face at her.
Finally, though, as you just caught your breath, you put a hand up. Wanting to hold on to him, only realizing you were spattered with blood. When he realized he took hold of you and set it on his chest. It strengthened you just enough. “I believe her.”
She’d been scared senseless when Fury had gone for his gun. There was no other way to interpret that.
“You can’t possibly still wanna be involved with this. With them.” Now Tony was turning his ire towards you, but it was extremely softened up as you looked at him. Still very clearly in pain. Still bleeding a little.
From the fucking gunshot wound. You understood why he’d be mad.
“If I never have to see Fury again, I’ll consider it.”
Tony was shaking his head lightly, while Natasha half smiled. “I don’t know about never. But… I can promise not for a very long time.”
“It’s a start.” You weren’t sure starting to where but… Tony was about to sound off again but you went just a little slack and his arms came completely around you, stopping his tirade in its tracks. “I need to lie down...” Surprisingly you didn’t feel very well.
Tony pointed a finger at Natasha. “This recovery room better be on par with a five star hotel. I’m talking skylights, room service, hot towels, jacuzzi-”
“Not that good. But. It’ll do.”
Once she moved to leave, you found yourself grateful as Tony quite literally swept you off your feet. Not having to worry about standing anymore, you practically wilted in his arms. This was crazy. This was crazy. Had Nick Fury really just fucking shot you? For what? To prove a point? You bet that was it.
Maybe you should have been able to predict such a thing. Maybe he was teaching you a lesson about letting your guard down.
The recovery room was a much darker color in contrast to all the white walls in the rest of the facility, softer lit. Sort of comforting and definitely soothing after everything else. The bed was small but looked nice enough. And, just your luck, there was a medkit on the table, and a sink in the other corner.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.” And just like that, Natasha was out of the room and closing the door.
Tony set you on the bed and then the suit opened up and he stepped out. “JARVIS I want a level 3 EMP. Throw up a signal jammer after that just in case. And then sweep for dead bugs.”
“Yes, sir.” You barely heard JARVIS’ voice from inside the helmet.
Shifting, releasing another welt of pain across your entire lower abdomen, you shrugged out of your jacket and pulled your top half up. Still bleeding- although maybe it wasn’t as much blood as you’d first imagined. And… Fury was right, the hole was small, as you checked, pressing your fingers against it in another hiss.
Tony was there in just another moment, on his knees, medkit on the table popped open. “Don’t move around so much. I can’t believe you want to stay here.” Grumbling as he opened bottles and tore packaging.
Half of your attention was still in a fog. Had all this really just happened? You kept hearing that question on a loop- and- Tony- “...how did you get here?”
Looking up after tearing an alcohol swap packet in his teeth his brows shot up. “You lose that much blood?” Reaching up he turned your face a little more towards his, examining your supposed pallor.
“No- well- maybe- I don’t know- I just… how did you-” How to ask this question? While you were very relieved that he was here, that he had come to get you- save you it must have seemed like…
“There was a reason I asked you to bring the glasses.” Sighing as he wiped away the blood with what felt like a trail of bee stings.
It got you to squirm, hold in a heavy hiss that exhaled on the next breath, your head falling back. Had Nick Fury really fucking shot you?? “You were listening?” All day?
“Not all day. They have something called Shattershot Detection. I wasn’t intending to trial it today. But… all things considered...” Mumbling angrily again as he tore open a packet of wet wipes and let you clean your hands.
“And you just- came right away?” This man was absolutely incredible. Although you probably would have done the same thing. Even just thinking about Tony being in a small room with no means of protection- and the sound of a gun-
...you felt terrible.
“It took me five minutes to get here.” Funny, since that all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. He taped a gauze pad over the wound on your front side, looking up. And what you saw in his eyes crushed you. “That was five minutes too long. If they had had a mind to-”
You felt a hot flash of terror. And it was painful. More painful than anything you’d felt today.
If they had wanted to do anything other than whatever the hell this was.
If Nick Fury had had a mind to put you down…
You’d be down.
And the thought- the near actualization- frightened Tony.
Feeling fresh tears leaking- realizing the dried trail of ones you didn’t even remember crying before- you reached up and cupped the sides of his face. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault. We were willing to give them a chance. They blew it. By. You know. Putting a hole through you. So let’s go now. It’s over.”
Before you could muster a yes or no the door opened and in walked Agent Phil Coulson, head down, reading a file. Just so casual. “So. You got shot your first day in training. Might as well come with a welcome basket.”
Yanking your shirt back down, you weakly directed a glare at him. “I’m so glad this is considered common practice around here.”
Tony stood, arms crossed, rigid. Blocking Coulson’s line of sight to you. “Well we’ve had just about all we can handle of your hospitality, so we’re leaving.”
The folder snapped shut. “I’d like to have a word alone with her.”
“Yeah. We tried that once already today.” Tony refused to budge.
A pause of silence hung in the air, and then Coulson crossed over to the sink, pulling a stool out from the other side and dragged it across the floor to the foot of the bed. Sitting down, one leg propped up, he set the folder down and laced his fingers together. “Fury has a very heavy handed way of getting what he’s looking for.” Pointedly ignoring Tony, who had turned to look at him, as he spoke directly to you.
“If you’re asking me to look the other way on him shooting me-”
“I’m not. But he doesn’t do things without a reason.”
At this you made a face. You had thought that was what this was about. “Teaching me a lesson?” Spat out at him.
“Not the one you think you’re learning. If you don’t want to trust him, and maybe you shouldn’t after this, that’s fine. But that’s not the point he was making.”
Tony waved a hand. “She’s not in daycare. She’s not a child. Anything that needed to be said could have been said. Pretending firing a gun at her is some sort of cryptic clue is nonsense- it’s psychotic.”
Coulson’s gaze stayed on you. “Have you ever been shot before?”
Your voice was small as you answered, “No.”
“Took it pretty well for your first time.” He remained extremely impassive, although he offered a tiny quirk of a smile.
Though you found no solace in the expression. “That’s what I’m supposed to learn? That I’m great at getting shot?” This was ludicrous.
“You’re not indestructible. But you’re not weak, either. Next time someone pulls a weapon on you, you’ll know you can get back up.”
 Fury can’t hurt you. her. me.
 The thought belonged to any one of you in that room. You weren’t sure who had it first as the endings overlapped. Maybe you, maybe you and Tony. Maybe Coulson, too. But it was there. You had it in hand.
You weren’t sure this was actually the lesson Fury had been trying to impart on you. Because it was a dangerous one, and would only grow more so every day you spent in their care. If all Fury had were weapons, he’d just taught you you could withstand a storm. Tomorrow you’d start learning to fight. And the day after that you’d start learning how to win.
You weren’t scared of Fury, very suddenly. You realized he should be scared of me.
“I can’t tell you to stay. But. Personally.” Coulson stood up, leaving the folder on the bed for you. “I think you should.”
“What a glowing review.” Tony moved to track him across the room.
Coulson stopped at the door, “We’ll send you the bill for all the tech you just busted, by the way.”
He shrugged. “Why don’t you just go ahead and put it right into my shredder. Save me some work.”
Reaching over, finding no strain in your muscles, you pulled the folder closer and opened it. Inside you were surprised at the heading,
 Lady’s Final Grid Results 6/17/10
 “Lady?” Mused to yourself. You had told them you didn’t like the other name, but had never given them another. But Lady? You supposed it came from the earlier spat between Fury and Tony- not to mention all the press recently with that title.
Lady…
“You ready to go?” Tony turned back to you, although he wasn’t exactly hiding that he was spying over the top of that folder.
 Intelligence: 3 Strength: 2 Speed: 2 Durability: 4 EP: 1 FA: P/O 4 Under guidance of Black Widow
 “Yeah...” Your voice was far away. Taking the folder and putting your jacket on you stood.
He moved to step back into his suit, and you were all too pleased when he held his arms open for you, eagerly letting him bend down to pick you up. Though you felt like you might have been able to walk out of there-
What a mess it was. Some agents were sitting on the floor, doors had been blown off, there was a hole in the roof…
“You really did a number on this warehouse.” Laying your head on his shoulder as he broke free from the compound perimeter and fresh air met your lungs.
“They’re lucky I didn’t do a lot more.”
Because he would have, you realized. Tony may have razed the entire place to the ground if things had gone differently.
 You wondered if Nick Fury knew that, too.
                                --------------------------------------------
 “Did you get what you were after?”
 “I got what I needed. For now.”
 “Good. Because I want it on record that I’m strongly against firing on potential allies. I don’t agree with what went on today.”
 “Me, too.”
 “Noted. Now get back to work.”
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demaury · 5 years
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Some kind of mistake (chapter 1)
Ever since Eliott first came across the new resident of the apartment 320, he made peace with the fact that Lucas 'Big Blue Eyes' Lallemant would, one way or another, turn his life upside down. Thing is, he hadn't expected that Lucas' wife and Lucas' daughter would play a part in it. Because, you know, he didn't know they existed until it was too late. (ao3 link)
SAMEDI, 08:49
It was a Saturday. For some reason, that particular fact in itself stuck in Eliott’s mind.
What was odd was that it didn’t particularly strike him as any different from the other Saturdays. It started off with Sofiane kicking him awake on his couch with a cup of coffee that wasn’t nearly enough to calm the pounding of a hundred hammers against his skull — courtesy of one (or ten) too many drinks from the night before. While he was twisting around in a sitting position and discarding the blanket usually covering the couch, Sofiane sat on the armrest, looking down at him.
“Eliott, c’mon. You know I like having you here but man- you stink.” He pulled a disgusted face as he said so. If Eliott’s eyes weren’t already giving him hell for the sunlight flooding the tiny living-room, he would have rolled them. It couldn’t be that late, considering Sofiane was still here. “Why can’t you just come over when you’re sober for once? That’d make for a nice change.”
A snort escaped past his lips as he was trying to swallow down his first sip of the morning. Sofiane was an actual mother hen, always down to give advises, especially when no one had asked for it — but Eliott wouldn’t have it any other way, and that’s why he always ended up crashing on his couch whenever he was too tired and/or drunk to go home by himself. It was just convenient that Sofiane’s place happened to be located in a particularly lively neighborhood, which meant that more often than not, his place was the closest from where Eliott was finding himself. A waste, considering that Sofiane was rarely (if ever) pulling an all-nighter these days.
“Not my fault you’re always ditching me,” Eliott protested, nose in his coffee. “Idriss too. You guys are the worst friends.”
What kind of friend let you ring at the intercom and didn’t even open the door? Idriss fucking Bakhellal. He was exactly that kind of friend. ‘Dude, I can’t keep up with your shit. I gotta wake up in the morning, just go make some other friends to party with,’ he had told him bluntly.
Was it his fault if all of a sudden his friends had boring jobs and boring lives?
Sofiane gave him a pointed look, before shaking his head as if he had been able to follow his train of thoughts. “I’ve got a job, Eli. Not everyone can afford to get shitfaced every Friday nights and a couple other nights in-between and still keep up with their lives.”
“I’ve got a job too, I’ll let you know,” Eliott retorted, mildly wounded in his pride.
Being overly judgmental was going against everything Sofiane was, although technically Eliott knew there was some truth in it, but after nearly five years of justifying the fact that yes, staying home on his computer was part of his job (and a huge part of it at that, not to say all of it), it was getting a little bit more on his nerves each time someone mentioned it. If anything, he was making more money that Sofiane, and probably more than Idriss as well — EP teacher wasn’t really the starter plan for a millionaire career.
He shifted on the couch, becoming increasingly aware of his wrinkled and slightly damp tee-shirt with every move he made. Maybe Sofiane was right about the smell, after all.
“Yes, but you don’t have work hours like Idriss and I do.”
Eliott shot him an unimpressed look. “You’re a driving instructor, Sof, you don’t treat cancer.” Joke was on him, because after ten years of friendship, he surely knew Sofiane well-enough to be aware that he was as proud to help kids get their driving license as any doctor was to save a life. Twenty years down the road and he’d start lining up on a wall the driving licenses he had contributed to.
Sofiane rolled his eyes. “And you’re still an asshole whenever you’re wasted, nice to see some things never change.” He leaned forward to grab his phone from the coffee table and immediately bolted up. “Shit I’m late. Look, do whatever you want but lock the door behind you and leave the spare key in the mailbox.”
“What’s the point of a spare key if you have both of them in here?” Eliott observed as Sofiane shrugged on a hoodie and fumbled around to grab the things he needed to go — shoes, keys, phone, and wallet— before literally jumping to the front door.
“That’s just a proof you’re spending too much time in here!”, he yelled as he slammed the door behind him, making Eliott wince at the sound.
SAMEDI, 09:51
He stayed put for a couple of minutes, before setting the cup of coffee on the table before him and gathering his things to head out. Usually he didn’t feel so much like things weren’t okay whenever he found himself here, with Sofiane fretting around him — if anything, it made him laugh. But for some reason this morning just wasn’t it.
An awful part of his teenage years had been spent hating himself for not being more like the other kids of his age, with an easy life, healthy hobbies, healthy relationships, healthy self-perception. Yeah, an awful lot of the time, between fifteen and nineteen, he had wished he was more like Sofiane, more like Idriss. More like anybody else. It had started working out for him only after he hit twenty. His meds were on point. He was slowly making peace with the fact that things would never be a 100% easy, and stopped purposefully ignoring the signs when shit was about to hit the fan.
As a free-lance graphic designer, he mostly worked from home, which spared him the prospect of dealing with an asshole boss on a daily basis — and getting fired because of one of his low lows. His sex-life was always a bit of a mess, but not dating anybody was making it a lot easier to juggle between the moment he craved loneliness and those he craved physical contact beyond logic. He was seeing his parents, who lived across town, twice a month, talking with his sister at least once a week, going to his therapist whenever it was needed, and every once in a while, Idriss got invested into a new sport and bugged him enough to join him, or simply to go for a morning run.
It wasn’t a perfect life, but it was healthier than it had been since what felt like forever. For the last five years or so, he had felt reasonably like the rest of his friends and acquaintances. So why was everyone starting to act like 26 was the age limit for all of this? It was as though they had no idea about all the efforts he had put into this in the first place, and sometimes he just wanted to scream his frustrations out.
The bus-ride back to his place wasn’t long, but it felt a lot like it. His phone had died the night before, so he was only hoping that whatever his drunken self had posted on his stories wasn’t shameful enough to make prospective clients run off to the next graphic designer on their list. He had started making a name for himself when he had scored a campaign promoting a new club in the Marais, two years ago, and although his building couldn’t be considered ‘fancy’ by any means, he was making enough money to afford living on his own in a bigger space than Sofiane’s literal shoebox.
Talking about boxes, Eliott thought.
A bunch of cardboard boxes were piled up in the entrance of his building. The main door was hanging wide open, a couple of leaves swirling around under the cool breeze and loud voices echoing inside — far too loud for Eliott’s still inebriated, sleep-deprived brain. He had known that the family of four living in the apartment on the fourth floor, the level below his own flat, would lose no time in being replaced — the moment the two parents had stopped fighting for good was when the dad had left and the countdown had started for a single mom in an overpriced city.
As Eliott walked in, careful not to trip, his eyes fell on three guys apparently waiting for the elevator to reach the ground floor, while holding upward the slatted base of a bed. Young, probably in their twenties. And fucking loud.
“I didn’t sign up for this!” one of them was protesting vehemently, his voice bouncing up against every wall and right through Eliott’s brain as he padded further in. When the guy straightened, the two others almost toppled over under the weight of the bed base. “I signed up for a bunch of books and clothes, I’m not a moving company!”
“Bro, can you just stop whining already?” another one said, adjusting his position with an elbow resting on the wooden frame.
“My point is, why are we doing all of this, and Lucas gets to just… I don’t know, slide them out of the elevator and inside his flat?” the first one complained.
Eliott almost snorted, and if he had been in the mood for conversation, he would have probably told them that they were fucking spoiled. Back when he moved in, the elevator was out of order, which had been a real pain in the ass to move everything up to the fifth floor — Sofiane and Idriss kept insisting that as long as the amount of years he had spent in his flat didn’t equal the number of floors they had to go through, they would never be even.
Oh fuck no, he thought.
That meant he had five goddamn flights of stairs to go through before crashing onto his bed.
Just what he needed.
“So following your logic,” the third one, a blond guy with glasses, chimed in, “Lucas should be here, dealing with the heavy shit, while you’re randomly shoving everything in his living-room until we can’t even open the door.”
“Exactly!” the first one exclaimed, then he met the look of his two friends. “Wait no- Not exactly but-”
“I can’t believe he’s allowed to vote,” the guy with the glasses muttered with a loud sigh, “congrats Baz, you made me lose faith in the democratic system.”
The fact that he threw his hands up in the air as he talked, and that the bed base once again threatened to fall to the ground under his other friend’s protests, offered enough of a distraction for Eliott to reach the stairs without having to go through a conversation he had no emotional interest in.
The pressure of being one among a million other people was nothing compared to the pressure of being known from everyone in a small town. Eliott was fine with being lost in the crowd, especially in a town where people considered it a flaw to be over-sympathetic; that was definitely something he could get behind. It was easy to just coexist with other people without seeking any further contact with them than a polite nod whenever they let you use the elevator with them, or when they held you the door out of habit rather than politeness — that made for less people asking annoying stuff from you when you couldn’t deal with it. He scrambled his way up through the floors, occasionally reminding himself that he could go through the last two flights of stairs without puking. It wasn’t exactly easy, considering that going through the mess that was the fourth floor gave him the impression of being the character of an online platform game. When he made it there, the technological wonder that was an elevator had managed to get the bed base up the fourth floor before him.
Eliott heard a grunt before he actually saw anything, then he saw the bed base move before he saw the person behind it. A boy was pestering to himself, sliding between the bed base and the wall of the elevator to try pulling it out from the outside, rather than pushing it out from the inside. The frame made an agonizing screeching sound that reverberated through the whole building and had Eliott wincing, but the guy had apparently made peace with every single living soul hating him because he didn’t stop — only slowing down as the meters added to the actual weight of the object. Eliott liked to think of himself as someone at least more observant than most, but it didn’t take a genius to know that the number of smaller boxes waiting by the front door was multiplying the number of chances for something bad to happen.
And as Murphy’s law stated so well, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.
The guy walking backward didn’t get to see the box near his foot until he tripped over it, letting out a ‘fuck’ as he lost his balance and the bed base toppled over him with a loud, metallic sound. It took Eliott an extra-second to get in motion — really, it wasn’t like shit like this happened every day. The guy was struggling to get out of what looked ridiculously like a wooden cage all of a sudden.
“You okay?”, Eliott enquired, startling him.
“Never been better,” he gritted out.
Eliott smirked to himself and leaned forward to grab the slats and lift the bed base off, before sliding it up against the wall while the guy was laboriously rising up on his feet.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, rubbing his forearm. “I guess some people don’t get the point of teaming up to get shit done faster.”
Eliott cocked an eyebrow. “Let me guess, the other three downstairs are yours?”
“There might be no more than me at the end of the day if they keep up like that.”
Sassy, Eliott noted. He liked it. For the first time he was actually indulging in a little bit of staring. Not much. The barest minimum, really. First of all, despite having been told him countless times that he looked younger than his 26 years old, he had troubles believing that this guy was an actual grown-up, but maybe it had to do with the fact that he was rather short, or the way his hair seemed disheveled beyond repair — and, again, Eliott knew a stuff or two about messy hair. What caught his attention was the two, big blue eyes suddenly staring back at him.
Wide.
And blue.
Very, very blue.
A very dark shade, one of those that even Photoshop had no trouble making pop — which didn’t happen often. Call it a professional quirk, but it was a nice thing to see. There was a bit of an awkward silence, only broken when the elevator dinged behind them, offering Eliott enough of a distraction for his brain to fall back into place, and preferably out of the gutter before he started overanalyzing the wonders that his skinny jeans made to his lower body.
“See? I told you he would be just fine,” the voice of one of the three guys from the hall echoed behind them. “Our Lulu is the best.”
Suddenly the big blue eyes were not focused on him anymore, and Eliott didn’t know how to feel about it. He was just awkwardly standing now, caught between people he didn’t even know fifteen minutes before. That wasn’t the definition of how he wanted to spend his Saturday morning riding out his hangover.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I almost died!”, Blue Eyes protested.
“I told you this would happen,” another one muttered.
Eliott shook his head to himself, and started to retreat towards the staircase while they were busy throwing insults at each other.
Maybe Sofiane was right.
Maybe he was too old for this shit — whatever that was.
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rkmason · 5 years
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▰▰▰▰▰▰ MNET GLOBAL AUDITIONS, SEASON 5 ˟  EP. 3 PERFORMANCE ▰▰▰▰▰▰
the past few weeks have felt like... well, somewhat like an acid trip. he didn’t think he’d be here, didn’t think he’d get this far, didn’t think he’d get in the door in the first place, and the last thing he expected was to feel his emotions were being taken for a ride more than he’s ever been in his life by the results every week. having the title of top rapper didn’t feel as sweet as it should and instead there’s a bitter taste in his mouth because the truth is it being first means the harder you fall, the deeper you can sink— it paints a target on your back. with the way baek jiyoung had smiled at him then, he thinks it wasn’t just painted on his back, he’s drowning in it, in the color red. it’s funny, how he wanted to paint his world with color last week and now he thinks he’s being branded with one now.
  ●●●●●●      LAST WEEK, ON THE SECOND EPISODE OF MGA S5 — 7월 4일      ●●●●●●
he tells himself over and over that this could be it and at least he’ll have that stage again— maybe he’ll hold onto it for an unhealthy amount of time like he did with his i am the best performance years ago but he sees nothing wrong with it this time. he sees nothing wrong with holding onto a moment when you felt like your best self and this time, this time, he was his most honest self. maybe not as honest as he could be in under two minutes but he did it, he managed, he let his heart out and he hasn’t done that nearly enough for how long he was in nova, in sphere, for how long he’s been living in seoul to become an idol. it reminds him of harsh words his brother told him once— did you move to seoul to become an idol or to chase mijoo? the truth is, his brother had a point. the truth is, even he didn’t know what he was doing but now? now he thinks he has a better sense of himself, of what he wants, of what he wants to keep trying to do whether it’s on his own or in a company again.
when he used to perform in clubs or go with his hyungs to watch underground rap battles, when that used to be his entire life at one point, he joined here and there with an open mind, open heart— when he should’ve been more committed to a dream, to anything. instead of going with the flow at all times, instead of being dragged by the current, he should’ve found his own way back. but he relied on others, relied on friends to guide his plans, his day-to-day when he wasn’t working. too often did he go “hey what are you doing tonight” instead of “i’m gonna do this, wanna come?” or just going alone. until now, he realizes there isn’t much he does completely on his own. he was only decisive when it served him in the moment and not for the future. the one solid decision he made for his future that’s lasted years later, that’s still with him, is his decision to move. that choice too is tainted, by the thought when he went home that maybe he should stay, that every time something doesn’t work out he wonders if he should’ve continued studying the way his father wanted him to.
he’s seen as the type that knows what he wants, that goes for it, that’s shameless, and he laughs it off because the only person that knows how wishy-washy he can be is mijoo. he’s dragged her into this too unknowingly, because if he doesn’t make it, if he doesn’t keep going, she’ll cry again. she’ll cry if he moves to the next round too, so will his mother, and he doesn’t know if tears of happiness are good anymore. he knows they only came because of the pain of before.
this could be it, he swallows thickly, hopes jooyoung can’t hear how loud his breaths are, how he goes from taking deep breaths to holding them to the point that his exhales are rushed, stifled when he coughs into his jacket sleeve. suddenly, all he hears and feels is static, his ears are buzzing, his heart is racing, his feet feel heavy when he finally moves— he’d already felt goosebumps along his arms just by hearing her voice. since that phone call after the talent show, he feels that way every time she speaks, as if her words could move worlds and maybe they could— after all, her words have moved his world time and time again.
he’s gone in circles because of baek jiyoung and he realizes this is another one of them, isn’t it? that he went from asking her to give his contract offer from sphere to someone else only to end up in sphere anyway, debuting in convex, and now he’s in the mgas again, waiting for her verdict, for the words that’ll either send him soaring to the sky or crashing into the depths again. it’s like ari said, god is a woman.
top 3.
those words have come to him again on the mgas and he could fall to his knees at the thought— ironic when he’s one of the only ones still standing from then. top 3 and while he wants to be proud, he swears all the pending criticism hits him already. he can imagine what the comments will say, what netizens will say, what his fellow contestants will say, and he closes his eyes for a moment, wills himself to stop being like this. moments earlier he felt light because of his song, because he took so much weight off his shoulders, but this felt like it was given right back to him.
it’s pressure, because once you’re labelled among the best, there isn’t a single person that isn’t trying to take that for themselves in a competition. he used to think that was unique about him, that he didn’t mind not being at the top if he hadn’t gotten it, if he didn’t get it now, but he was wrong. he’s more serious about this now that he wants it.
not only a good rapper but a good performer.
it was the validation he wanted but he has no right to it, especially from her. it was the validation he needed, and he’s frozen in place. when yuqi and changbin start to move, he’s spurred back to life and he’s ashamed— ashamed that instead of thinking they deserved it more, instead of insisting they did better, he thinks more about the fact that he was right in the end, this is it.
this is the stage that gave something back to him, the stage that he was honest with everyone and himself, the stage that he was meant to give, the stage that got him a title he’ll probably be disliked for, the stage that reminded him that it’s not all about talent but presence, about a performance, and it gets him through this again. he might not be the best rapper in the world, and he doesn’t have to be— no one is— but he performed in a way he can be proud of.
if only that could’ve saved him from the guilt he felt later, eventually, inevitably because of convex, because of mijoo, because of his family and friends, the fans who supported him. if he keeps this up, if he’s still the top next week, can he redeem himself in their eyes? does it make up for any of the pain he caused? is it enough of an apology when he can’t say the words publicly or risk everything again? his eyes water a few more times that night when he’s by himself, but until then— he’s got a partner to get to know.
after the final marker, he invites her to a group dinner so they can hang out and get to know each other— when so many people still believed in the words of a well-known netizen, he can’t be reckless with how he acts around her but, just as equally, he’s sorry. being paired with him can’t be easy when he has so much baggage, so much history that comes with him.
there’s so much he thinks she ought’a be worried about but she doesn’t seem to be. no, she’s a lot nicer than minho expects and he realizes, throughout the course of the night, that he didn’t know what would happen when the concept was announced. a team like the last season would’ve been easier— he could brush off awkward moments by relying on another person being there. with just him and nakyung, he’s fretting over the fact that they’ll be practicing alone and that she’s so young. isn’t she still in high school? going out to dinner with other people is one thing, being by themselves in a practice room is another.
but again she doesn’t seem bothered by it, she doesn’t seem fazed by when he actually does tell he’s sorry, that people might look at them with rose colored glasses, that attention could go to him just because of the gossip, and that he doesn’t have more to offer her. he leaves it unsaid that he feels like his presence is tattered, filthy, in this competition to some of the others, to the audience, to even some of the judges maybe. a flight risk, a media show, that’s what he feels like when he’s not on stage. when the music is off and he’s choi minho again instead of romeo as people knew him as, he’s good for headlines but is that any good for winning? for helping her?
as they keep talking, as they exchange contact information, as she smiles at him, he decides on not just trying to give the best performance next week but protecting that smile. he has to. minho didn’t want to drag anyone else into the messes he’s made again.
             ●●●●●●      SO IT BEGINS, PRACTICING FOR EPISODE 3 — 7월 5일      ●●●●●●
when minho came to the practice room early, his mind is still spinning with all the ideas he wants to throw together and he’s unsure of how to share them all with nakyung without being overwhelming. for hours, he tried to piece things together, from rewatching the episode that aired so far to trying to remember every part of her performances he’d seen so far, to finding a dance cover she posted on youtube. it was cute, playful, charming— all things that suited her and that’s one of his first thoughts on nakyung and her song choices: she chooses based on her strengths, based on how well she can perform them. some could call it safe but he calls it smart, considers it performing for fun instead of just to win. she didn’t seem like the type to over-strategize, to do or say whatever it takes to get air time.
when he talked to dabin about it yesterday, if he remembers nakyung, he knows he’s not the only one who sees it. it’s something the both of them respect: when someone seems genuine in enjoying what they’re doing. if you can pretend well enough, if you can go through the motions and make it look good, you can pass for an idol too. that’s what seik tells them, in nicer terms anyway and, as much as he wants to deny it, minho knows his friend has a point. that’s not what he gets from nakyung though and he hopes in that for the sake of the recording in a few days.
she shows up with someone like he suggested and he’s surprised it’s her brother. it feels like a different kind of atmosphere when you know someone’s brother is there watching over everything but minho jokes about it, knows there’s nothing to worry about now. it’s probably for the best that it’s her brother. when they talk about what to do, about their options, he shares his opinion of her dancing with such optimism that he’s surprised she doesn’t call him out on it, and she’s modest in the way he expected, the way he hoped, a manner that makes him feel relieved. her experience with choreography isn’t much and he says it might be better that way— a fresh perspective, a new perspective, a young perspective because as much as he doesn’t want to think about it, it’s unavoidable. instead of letting it scare him into thinking he’s too old to be doing this, he wants to embrace it too. there’s always more to learn, no matter who you are.
he doesn’t expect convex to come up in the way it does for their first practice and he finds out something about her that he didn’t in his research the night prior— she’s a fan. to her, minho might just look like a good sport, laughing and smiling as he tells her of course he can sign it but she doesn’t know how much she’s given him again. he feels so overwhelmed with gratitude that he could hug her— he almost does, truthfully, because she’s a fan but she doesn’t resent him for what he did, for leaving, for joining the mgas. being told he has someone’s support and seeing it like this, experiencing it in the way he is now with her holding out the album to him, he can’t describe it properly. she has no clue that her hand is basically wrapped around his heart because of one request and he feels set free in another way— relieved that someone didn’t think he betrayed convex and it was why he avoided people for a while. the fear he wrote of for the last episode... it’s still there and today it doesn’t feel so bad because of nakyung.
what they land on for their performance is nostalgic in more ways than one and it’s a trait he associates with her performances so far. it’s a theme he likes, a theme that brings him back to his first season, even if it ages him with just how nostalgic his song choices had been.
cats and dogs.
a back and forth, push and pull. 밀당 but not quite.
they’ll have to play off each other for the dance to work perfectly and trying to be in sync with one person in mere days compared to months with twelve is a different feeling but one he’ll remember— because he wouldn’t be able to do it if it wasn’t for them. even one of the connections he feels to her now after signing the album and getting to know her, isn’t it also because of convex?
   ●●●●●●      ONE STEP CLOSER, JUST BEFORE THE RECORDING — 7월 11일      ●●●●●●
nakyung is the first female partner he’s had on the mgas, the first he’s had that he didn’t know already— seeing her on the show and watching her performances isn’t the same as getting to know her, to work with her, and it’s an honor he’ll carry with him from now on. it might be one of his favorite collaborations he’s done, just don’t tell any of the others. although it could be due to the fun nature of the performance, he thinks none of it would matter if it wasn’t nakyung. she has natural talent, a distinct personality, presence when she’s on stage, and she’s a quick learner too. it just wouldn’t work if she didn’t have just as much potential and minho, for one, can’t wait to see how she does that, if she’s signed as a finalist or not.
before they head over to the set, he stops her for a second, feeling bashful that he has to bring attention to it like this but if he doesn’t he might forget later. [he doesn’t let himself think that he might lose the timing for it too if things go sour.]
“this is for you,” he grins more proudly this time, because of the effort he put into picking it out. a trip out to the mall with dabin and hyerin while nakyung was in school took up most of the day but it was worth it, to find something he thinks suits her, that she’ll like, and hopefully she’ll treasure no matter the results later. thankfully, the store took care of the packaging, a small pastel pink gift box and a white ribbon in the same material as the choker she wears for the stage. even more fitting. “you know, because you like eclipse and they have that whole night and day thing,” it’d be too creepy to say it’s them right? besides, he’s a dog tonight, not a cat but they are opposites in some ways. she’s just so tiny next to him. clearing his throat, he reminds her, “it’s all over your twitter” among other things. it’s the old tweet about photocards that had him taking selcas on her phone and pictures with her. maybe one day he’ll manage to pull enough strings and get more convex members to meet her, ones still in the group. even he has to burn himself with that one.
           ●●●●●●      NEXT ON STAGE, MINHO & NAKYUNG,  EP. 3 — 7월 11일      ●●●●●●
when they get to the set, it’s just the cameras, must be right, but he swears he feels eyes on them and it’s an unnerving feeling to come back to week by week. this time, he doesn’t feel as anxious for himself as he does for nakyung. all the negative attention he brought to himself... she didn’t deserve any of it and he hopes it doesn’t stay with her, that people see how bright her performance is despite him even if they’re so tied together for this.
just like last week, sakura comes by to say hi and he’s glad to see her, looking forward to the performance she’ll give— he meant it when he said he thought there should be more female rappers on the show. who needs unpretty rapstar? he never liked that name anyway.
looking around at the pairings, he can’t imagine what everyone’s come up with. each season seems more intense, like the stakes are higher and the theatrics rise with it. that’s one thing to be grateful for, he supposes, that they’ll be going first and don’t have to feel the pressure of going after anyone else. they’re given something else instead and it’s neither an advantage or disadvantage in the end, except maybe when it comes to being able to use the couch for their stage. luckily, they agreed or he’d have to figure out how to lug furniture in on his back or something just as chaotic sounding. he clears his throat, face scrunching up because he forgot about the collar he’s wearing to match the concept. he never thought he’d be wearing a collar and dalmatian print for a performance.
first, they’re going first all because of his last name and he feels bad about it only for a split second, because nakyung doesn’t seem to hold anything against him and he finds her all the more precious for it. he swears, this’ll be one of the most fun performances he’s given.
▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ I’M YOURS  +  DOWN IN THE DM ♫                                                                      CHOREO & REMIX BY MINHO AND NAKYUNG
"contestant #5002, choi minho checking in,” he says with a grin, bowing deeply and looking to nakyung. just like last week, he thinks this is it but for a much happier reason this time. all the practice, the discussions, the joking around, the weird moment that minho had to ask her “so... uh... do you already have cat ears?” — it comes down to this, a different side of both of them. 
the music was edited perfectly just for this, sound effects and all. one step too slow or too fast and they’d be off. the synchronization is what they had to work on the best and he was impressed by how well they worked together. how long had it been since he pieced together a dance like this with someone else? together, instead of putting bits and pieces of their own sections together to complete a song. hands curl into paw-like poses, facial expressions to match each count of eight. in under two minutes, they tell a story.
both lost to feigned slumber, he wakes up after the tell-tale sign that they’re alone, free to play. like the phrase, when the cat’s away the mice will play, just like tom and jerry but they changed it up to suit their personalities, to suit the type of stage they wanted to show off, to be more playful and even sibling-like. the song i’m yours is what makes it vague and it’s perfect for the concept of push and pull.
bone-shaped pillow left aside, instead of sleeping in, despite being so different, opposites, he’d rather play with the cat and nakyung makes a perfect cat, with her petite stature and small facial features. she’s almost a kitten compared to a dog as big as ... huh, would he be a labrador or a golden retriever. out here asking the tough questions, right?
cat and dog in harmony, it seems impossible but they move like they are. even the rejections of affection are like that, how nakyung jumps on his back when he’s turned away, but the game starts again when she pretends to pound on his chest until the final pretend slap of his cheek just before the music changes. this is when they get their individual time to shine but it only works with the other, he only works with her, and just when it seems like a happy ending, cat and dog in harmony again— there’s a return of a third player, the vroom of a car and the opening of the door so he lets go, she falls to the floor just as they practiced and he slips back into “sleep” again only to sit up slightly, his body in visible anguish when she steps on his stomach to get back to the couch, her own personal revenge for being left behind.
when he lies back down, eyes closed, he barely felt the passage of time, of how that was two full minutes, because it went by so quickly— there’s another old phrase that comes to mind, time flies. he wouldn’t mind performing this routine again and again if it stays this fun.
PROFILE / SKILLS / AUDITION / EPISODE 1 / EPISODE 2 ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀ EP. 3: PERFORMANCE / INTERVIEW
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wellhellothereboys · 5 years
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BF Episode Names + Work Summaries (Part 1)
These summaries are my OWN and WILL contain spoilers. Some, but not all works will be related back to the show. Thank you!
Click episode names for links to online versions of the works by the way :D And please let me know if you think I made an error, I’m more than willing to fix it
I literally read all of these in three days so I’ll be posting for eps 13-24 in less than a week (I hope)
E1: A Perfect Day For Bananafish by J.D. Salinger
Muriel and Seymour, her husband (who Muriel calls “see-more”), are staying at a hotel near a beach. Muriel calls her mom to reassure her that everything has gone well, but her mother is anxious about Seymour’s state since he returned from war. Of course, Muriel says everything is fine and that Seymour is down at the beach. The reader can assume that Muriel takes a nap shortly after the call with her mother. At the beach, Seymour talks to a little girl (Sybil) and goes to swim with her and just play around. He proposes that they try to look for bananafish. He mentions that these fish eat bananas (strange) in spaces between rocks that they are then unable to escape because of weight gain from the food and they die. Sybil eventually says that she saw a bananafish, which for some reason prompts Seymour to kiss her foot (something you wanna tell us, Seymour?). Sybil runs inside when they get out of the water, and Seymour goes up to his and Muriel’s room. In the elevator, he claims that a woman is staring at his feet (honestly Seymour, what’s with the FEET?). When he gets to the room, Muriel is asleep. Without much further explanation, he grabs a gun and shoots himself. 
We can obviously see the correlation between the drug in the show and the fish in the story, as both of them prompt the victim to cause harm to themselves. Seymour was also affected by mental illness after being at war, which could relate to Griffin’s character.
E2: In Another Country by Ernest Hemingway
During a war, Nick (the narrator) is in a hospital with Italian soldiers. Nick can be interpreted as an extension of Hemingway himself within the story. Nick meets three soldiers at the hospital that have earned medals for brave actions. This makes Nick feel bad, because his medal was awarded to him simply because he was an american fighting in the war and was accidentally injured. Nick also meets a younger soldier who wears a cloth over half of his face (an injury that he got BEFORE the war). Because this soldier is the only person who hasn’t gotten a medal for bravery, Nick finds ease in talking to him. Oh! I should probably mention that this story is supposed to be a reflection of Hemingway’s war experiences as well. Anyway, during physical therapy one day, a major is quite rude to Nick and tells him not to get married (Nick brought up the topic) because his wife would leave him. Later, the major apologizes and says that his wife passed away not long ago. For the rest of the story, the major looks out the window instead of focusing on his therapy.
E3: Across The River And Into The Trees by Ernest Hemingway
This one far easier to explain. Essentially, a middle aged man named Cantwell can feel that he’s going to die soon and has a relationship with a 19 year old girl in his last few months. As is typical with Hemingway, there is mention of war happening during this time. However, war is not the focal point of the story (this time). The young girl, Renata, is referred to several times during a flashback that tells the reader of Cantwell’s time in World War I. Apparently, Cantwell knew Renata for a while and was romantically involved with her. Cantwell’s friend, Jackson, urges him to stay with Renata for his final days. Cantwell decides to do just that, and so his final days are spent having sex with a girl less than half his age. Renata seems like she doesn’t give half a crap about it either so that’s... better? Idk all of this is nasty. Anyway, as you can tell, Cantwell ends up dying. He has a heart attack in the back of a car. He quotes Stonewall Jackson before he dies and leaves a note along with his body that basically just says to return a set of guns to someone. ALSO I feel like I should mention that Cantwell literally called Renata his DAUGHTER and she didn’t mind it, even though they were also getting drunk and having sex like all the time. 
Obviously, the pedophilia relates to Dino and his whole category of people in BF. That’s about all I can get out of this one. 
E4: This Side Of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald
This one is a LONG boy but the concept can be shortened so that’s what I’m gonna do. Basically a guy named Amory goes to Princeton but he’s SUPER lazy. He doesn’t pay attention in class but he still learns from friends/books. World War I starts and of course he joins. His mom dies while he is away. When he gets back he falls in love with a woman named Rosalind. She loves him too but she doesn’t want to marry anyone poor (and Amory is kind of broke). She breaks off their engagement and marries a rich guy instead. Amory drinks to forget until alcohol becomes illegal. Later, he has a fling with a girl named Eleanor. Then, his friend gets caught with a girl but Amory says it was his fault to keep his friend from having to deal with the consequences. Amory finds out that a his last close family friend has passed away. He runs into one of his dad’s other friends who gives him a short life lessons before he keeps walking back to Princeton. Amory is still not over Rosalind, so he thinks about her on the way home. The book ends with a really emotional (but kind of overdramatic) scene of Amory looking up at the sky and reflecting on his life, saying that the only person he really knows is himself.
E5: From Death To Morning by Thomas Wolfe (this link is kind of a pain sorry)
This is NOT a single work, but rather a collection of many. It’s a whole book of short works of fiction, so rather than explain each and every one of them, I’m just going to give you some major themes so you get the idea. Thomas Wolfe was admired by William Faulkner, who’s works are used later in Banana Fish. In From Death To Morning, all of the 14 stories featured have a theme of loss. Even the titles themselves make that clear. A majority of them involve death, and a solid amount take place in different parts of New York.
Death happens a LOT in BF. Loss is also a powerful motivator for Ash (because of his dead brother) and Eiji (because of his pole-vaulting career). Other characters are also motivated by losses of their own.
E6: My Lost City by F. Scott Fitzgerald
This is a nonfiction essay written by Fitzgerald. It talks about his life in New York, and has a depressing approach. There isn’t necessarily a flowing plot, but some very important points are made throughout the story. The author discusses his expectations of New York (celebrity life, luxury, freedom) and then moves to mourn the loss of such dreams. Real life in New York was not as great as he thought, to no one’s surprise. He leaves the city a couple of times, in hopes that he’ll regain his appreciation for the city. Most people have heard of The Great Gatsby, Fitzgerald’s most famed work. The exciting parties mentioned in the book, along with the tragedies and the melancholy tone of some parts is a reflection of his feelings towards the city. In My Lost City, he is connecting the New York of his dreams to reality. However, he also feels that he cannot part with the city. Every time he plans on getting out of the situation he’s found himself in, he finds himself coming back to where he started.
Honestly, I see one of the largest BF to Lit connections with this one because of the way Eiji saw the city. He came to New York with a certain mindset, and he was being sort of a “fanboy” of the city. He was SO excited about everything, but then every expectation was ruined within the first few hours of his stay. Though he came in with an image of a movie-like city, he ended up being introduced to the world of violence, drugs, and just about every crime you could imagine. And yet, like Fitzgerald, he stayed and kept hope for happier times. (And as we know, he found happiness with Ash.)
E7: The Rich Boy by F. Scott Fitzgerald
The rich boy in the story, named Anson Hunter, believes him to be sort of above other people because of his money. This is basically a projection of how Fitzgerald thought of the upper class. Anson, however, is not the narrator. This will be important later. In the beginning of the story, Anson is in love with a girl named Paula (whom he met when he was in the Navy), and believes he has control over her. This arrogance causes her to become frustrated with him and she leaves him. Anson then moves on to be in a relationship with a girl named Dolly. She is a lot more playful and does not let Anson control their relationship, but he tries to anyway. They’re a very good match, honestly. He is playing with her feelings but she’s playing him right back. The problem, however, is that Anson still loves Paula. So, he leaves Dolly and goes on to fuck up other people’s relationships like he fucked up his own. He hears that his aunt is cheating on his uncle with someone, and he makes a big scene out of it even though it wasn’t any of his business. The man that she was with kills himself soon after. The next time Anson sees Paula, she says she never loved him. Obviously, he’s saddened by that but apparently it isn’t enough to make him change his ways. Paula dies when giving birth to her second husband’s child. At the end of the story, Anson drinks with the narrator (his friend for all this time), but leaves as soon as he sees an attractive woman nearby.
E8: Banal Story by Ernest Hemingway
In this story, the narrator is not named. He sits and eats an orange in the beginning, while he reflects on past events that don’t really have anything to do with him (Mesopotamia, cricket games, etc.). He reads a magazine as he reflects. Then, the story shifts and all of a sudden it’s talking about a dying bullfighter’s funeral. Apparently, people come to the funeral basically just for clout. He’s pretty popular, so everyone wants to be able to say they knew him. A bunch of people buy pictures of him but don’t actually care about them. Hemingway says the people basically just shove them into their pockets and don’t pay much attention to them. While this happens, other bullfighters are glad that this guy will no longer be a part of the competition. Essentially, this famous dude dies and no one seems to give half a crap. I think this might be related to the beginning of the story in some way. My personal theory is that the bullfighter’s death may be portrayed as unimportant to people, but in the future someone may think back on it? I’m not exactly sure, but it could be a sort of loop to the man thinking about the past in the beginning.
E9: Save Me The Waltz by Zelda Fitzgerald (yes, F. Scott’s wife)
This is vaguely an autobiography about Zelda’s life, divided into four sections. The main character is named Alabama Braggs, even though she technically represents Zelda. There’s a lot of content, so I’ll give you the most important parts of each section instead. Part one involves Alabama’s life until around the age of 20. Alabama sees her older siblings experience heartbreak while she lives a life trying to act older. She begins to act spontaneously. She drinks excessively, sleeps around, and woos as many men as she can. She eventually falls in love with a man named David. Alabama had always dreamed of moving to New York, and David was planning to do so. She doesn’t like the idea of being tied down, but she loves David. In the second part, she is engaged to him. They soon get married. He doesn’t have much money, but Alabama is unaware of this. Although the family runs out of money a lot (which makes Alabama realize her husband is poor, but she loves him regardless), they still live luxurious lives. They irresponsibly spend money on parties and such. When Alabama gets pregnant, her parents visit her. They are unhappy with her life, but Alabama does not seem to pay any mind to this. David and Alabama become bored of NYC and decide to go to France. Alabama is anxious on the way there and spends most of her time on the boat in their cabin with her daughter (Bonnie) while David drinks. After they get settled in France, Alabama has an affair with a guy who later moves to China, leaving her lonely. When David has an affair after they move to Paris, Alabama takes up dancing with a famous ballerina who is willing to teach her. In part three, the couple’s relationship becomes more strained when Alabama chooses to commit to ballet instead of her relationship with David. They stay in Paris a while longer before splitting apart. In part four, Alabama lives in Italy, where she performs for a ballet. David sends her flowers, but does not visit. Bonnie visits once, but doesn’t like her mom’s life. Eventually, they all go back to America to see Alabama’s dying dad. She gets to spend time with him before he passes, and the book ends with them throwing a party (like the good old days) and her cleaning up the mess afterwards. The family decides to all move somewhere together afterwards.
E10: Babylon Revisited by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Oh great, another complicated one. This summary will explain the general progression of events, but I WILL be leaving out some things that you might think are important so I strongly encourage you to read this one. As the story opens, Charlie is coming to visit his daughter, who greets him with excitement. The other people in the house seem to dislike Charlie. He used to drink a lot and act recklessly, but he’s stopped engaging in that lifestyle a long time (~1.5 years) ago. Others still seem to keep that impression of him. While Charlie does not specifically try to regain trust from the others in the household, he continues to cherish his daughter throughout. He does everything that is expected of a loving father. After a lot of convincing, Lincoln (an adult in the household) tells Charlie that he can live with Honoria (Charlie’s daughter). Marion (the other adult in the household) continues to hold a grudge against Charlie because his wife was her sister and she died after cheating on him. In the end, Charlie is separated from his daughter because of something that affected Lincoln at the time. He decides to continue to send Honoria gifts even though he knows he should be doing more.
E11: The Beautiful And Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Anthony Patch is the main character in this. His grandfather tried to get him to start a career in writing for a very long time, but Anthony has not paid much attention to it. He claims he is working, but does not (big mood). He falls in love with a girl named Gloria who uses her looks to get anything she wants. Gloria likes a movie director for a period of time, but drops him and gets with Anthony as soon as Anthony expresses his interest. They start out happy together, but soon realize their differences and struggle in their relationship. When they realize they do not have enough money, they push that problem off to the future and throw parties instead. His grandpa shows up to one of these parties without warning and scolds Anthony for his behavior. He disinherits him and dies shortly after. The grandpa’s secretary writes Anthony out of his will, so Anthony is left with little to nothing. Gloria and Dick (Anthony’s friend) go to fight in court for the money. This whole time, by the way, Gloria gives no shits about her own life. She doesn’t fear death at all. She is sad, however, when her old interest tells her that she is too old to be a lead actress. Anyway, Anthony goes into town and tries to find someone who could loan him any money. No one agrees, not even his best friend. After being tossed around because of his lack of money, Anthony makes it home. A few weeks later, Gloria and Dick come home to Anthony being emotionally nostalgic on the bathroom floor (he’s drunk, too) declaring that they had won the case. At the end of the novel, Anthony is described in distant 3rd person. He is said to have been physically and mentally drained by a family friend’s suicide. His money has also been taken away from him.
E12: To Have And Have Not by Ernest Hemingway
A man named Harry Morgan is a smuggler and takes money to do jobs for people. He agrees to help a Chinese man named Sing smuggle people across the border. Once he does this and gets the money, however, he kills Sing instead. Almost a year later, he is smuggling alcohol but becomes injured by Cubans. Harry and his friend decide to sink the alcohol and come back for it later or have another ship take it. A U.S. official sees this happen and reports the action. Harry gets his boat taken away and his arm is cut off as a result. Harry steals his boat but then gets it taken away from him again. He visits his family one last time and his wife gives him a loaded gun to take with him. Harry leaves, but is hurt by Cubans soon after. He gets away while his friend is killed. Eventually, Harry gets to a rich area that takes him in to a hospital where he dies during surgery. He gets to know these people a little before he dies, and their lives contrast the way Harry lived for the whole first section of the book. Among these rich families is a gay couple (because Hemingway is what the kids call, “woke”) and a bunch of people with various backgrounds, both good and bad. Marie ends up not going to his funeral because of guilt. 
Harry’s wife reminds me of Jessica from BF honestly because she cares a lot about him and is also really badass while trying to protect him.
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