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pint4punt · 2 years

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The Battle for New York:

Will the Jets or Giants be the better team from the Bronx in 2022?

We live in strange times. Everything is on backorder. Gas prices have gone up 10,000% overnight. Monkeypox is a thing. And most shockingly of all, both New York Football Teams (seemingly) nailed their offseasons.

Outside of Buffalo which has produced the odds-on Super Bowl favorite for 2022, New York football has been…..less than stellar. Both NY teams combined win totals from last season were still below .500, with the Giants and Jets each finishing with a 4-13 record. Oh and the worst record in the NFL over the last five seasons belongs to…..both of them, it’s a f@*%ing tie for mediocrity.

But productive offseasons can change even the shittiest of teams’ outlooks. For teams as low as the Jets and Giants to come away with the players they did in the 2022 Draft, they probably needed changes of shorts for their entire front offices. Which begs the question: Which team will rise from the sewers of Midtown to the top of the Empire State Building as the ambassador for New York Football? Let’s start with a look at:

The Draft Picks

Giants:

The draft debut for first year Head Coach Brian Daboll and first year GM Joe Schoen had to instill a confidence in Big Blue not felt by New Yorkers since the days of Eli Manning. The Giants picked up not one, but two players who were once projected to go number 1 overall this year in Edge Rusher Kayvon Thibodeaux and Offensive Tackle Evan Neal. The former is unfortunately dealing with an MCL sprain after an unnecessarily controversial cutblock, while the latter should make an immediate impact on a line that has underperformed for years, eliminating another excuse for Danny Dimes’ inconsistency.

Jets:

If anyone came away feeling better then the Giants after the draft it had to be the Jets. The Jets might have walked out of the draft with four of the best players at their respective positions. Ahmad ‘Sauce’ Gardner, arguably the best Corner prospect, should immediately reenergize a Jets’ secondary that also added DJ Reed this offseason, while Germaine Johnson, a steal at 26, is an obvious fit for a middle of the pack pass rush and a defense that ranked 32nd in both yards and points allowed last year, much to the shagrin of Defensive-Minded HC Robert Saleh.

Ultra productive Wide Receiver Garrett Wilson adds some serious firepower to a receiving corps already showing signs of improvement at the end of last season (and some easy money with the inevitable Wilson to Wilson merchandise). The icing on the cake was also coming away with athletic specimen Breece Hall to add to an already budding rushing attack from Offensive Coordinator Mike Lafleur. Overall the Jets took a balanced approach, adding stellar players on both sides of the ball, but like their MetLife counterpart, they are clearly trying to answer questions about

The Quarterbacks

Zach Wilson:

The Jets’ latest savior of the franchise hasn’t exactly made believers of the masses to date. His rookie year consisted of a 55.6 completion percentage, 28.2 QBR, more INTs than TDs, and desperate attempts at resurrecting plays from the dead in a fashion that would make both Lazarus and Carson Wentz very proud.

Wilson seemingly became a man this off-season, thanks in no small part to his mom’s best friend, bulking up in an attempt to curtail the injury risk that caused him to miss 4 games last year. A whopping two series into the first preseason game of 2022, that plan gave way like Wilson’s knee, resulting in him currently recovering from surgery on a torn meniscus. Despite the untimely setback, the 2nd year QB will come back to an offense bolstered by an exciting injection of rookie talent, free agent additions C.J. Uzomah and Tyler Conklin, and the return of promising contributors in Elijah Moore and Michael Carter. If he can make up for missed time, there’s plenty of reason for optimism for Wilson to take the training wheels off in year 2.

Daniel Jones:

If you think New Yorkers are running out of patience for Zach Wilson, just ask them what their thoughts of Danny Dimes are. He has the athleticism of a gazelle and the pocket awareness and decision making of (any woman who’s ever dated Pete Davidson?). It’s like watching Forest Gump run 90 yards with Lloyd Christmas’ haircut. The Giants declined Jones’ 5th year option despite a unanimous praise and confidence expressed by the coaching staff, front office, and ownership alike.

The good news for Jones, is there may not be a better coach than Daboll to salvage his young career and get the most out of Gettleman’s parting gift. Giants fans are undoubtedly hoping for the Josh Allen treatment, but even if Daboll can just clean up the mistakes and improve his vision on the field, Big Blue will be in dramatically better shape. The early returns are promising, with Jones looking decisive while going 14 of 16 in his latest preseason outing against the Bengals last Sunday. Even the interception he threw really wasn’t on him as it bounced off the hands of the intended receiver. Preseason or not, Giants fans had to feel better about the latest display from Danny Dimes. While the players are essential, and the QBs can put teams over the top, the X Factor for these teams might be:

The Coaches

Robert Saleh

Robert Saleh is entering year 2 as a Head Coach and despite having a great offseason and a tall task in rebuilding the Jets, he has to be feeling a fair amount of pressure coming into this year. His Quarterback’s career may still be in its infancy, but the guy cannot stay healthy and makes dumbass decision after dumbass decision with the ball in his hands. This staff can still help him turn it around, but New York media is notoriously loud and Wilson has not looked like a number 2 overall pick to date.

Further ratcheting up the pressure on the Defensive-minded Coach is….the lack of Defense. As mentioned earlier, the Jets rank in the cellar of the league across several defensive categories. Again, taking the Jets job was committing to a rebuild and this team was not going to become a contender overnight. That being said, the Jets seemingly now have the personnel to run Saleh’s system and while rookie growing pains are to be expected, this team has to show signs of life by the end of this year for Saleh and Co to extend their East Coast tenure.

There are accomplishments Saleh can hang his hat on. Saleh got this gig because he has shown he can field elite defensive units in the past. It’s one thing to field a historic defense with stars like Nick Bosa, Deforest Buckner, and Richard Sherman playing at a Pro Bowl Level. It’s something else entirely to produce a Top 10 Defense across several key categories without any of those guys and a litany of injuries. Saleh did just that in 2020, solidifying his viability as a prominent Head Coaching Candidate. With a little more time and the right players, it’s not crazy to think he can repeat that ‘All Gas No Brakes’ formula to the roaring chants of J E T S JETS JETS JETS!

Brian Daboll

As impressive as Saleh’s resume was coming into his role with the Jets, Daboll’s might be even better. While you no doubt associate Daboll with now year in year out MVP Candidate Josh Allen, you may be less aware of what Daboll was working with when he inherited the young signal caller. In his draft profile, Allen was compared to Quarterbacks such as Tyrod Taylor, Josh McCown, and Brian Hoyer to name a few due largely to his then career completion percentage of 56.1. He was also cited as inconsistent, inaccurate, and lacking pocket presence despite incredible physical gifts.

Needless to say, nobody in their right mind would compare Allen to any of those Quarterbacks at this point in his career and he would without question go first overall in a 2018 redraft. Last year under Daboll, Allen set a franchise record producing 409 completions, 36 touchdown passes, and 4,407 yards while the Bills finished 3rd in the league in points per game (28.4) and 5th in yards per game (381.9).

In a duel of philosophies, each New York team leaned towards a different side of the ball with their Head Coaching hire. While the modern rule book clearly favors the offense and prioritizes teams putting points on the board, the old school mantra maintains that defense wins championships. It’ll be fun to see which of these coaches goes farther in their career, but as for this season a lot of it comes down to:

The Schedule

New York Jets:

Losing their starting quarterback for the remainder of the preseason is far from the only turbulence the Jets can expect this year (yes pun intended). The Jets were already facing an uphill battle to start the year with their strength of schedule ranking as the 6th most difficult this season.

These poor bastards literally open the season facing the entire AFC North, followed by the now loaded Dolphins, then get back to back weeks facing Aaron Rodgers and Russell Wilson, the first of their annual beat downs from Belichick, then the Super Bowl favorite Bills, followed by another matchup with their old pal Bill in New England. Christ would have more confidence facing Clostebol loaded Romans than the Jets could possibly have against this onslaught.

New York Giants:

While the Giants have been the laughing stock of the division that is the laughing stock of the NFL writ large for years, they did finally catch a break on the calendar. The Giants come into 2022 with the clear cut easiest schedule of any team in the league. That being said, other teams aren’t exactly crapping their pants seeing big blue on the schedule either.

Still, it has to feel good knowing you have a puncher’s chance against the Panthers (who have to already be looking for a new Head Coach), the Bare Cupboard Bears, the Geno Smith led Seahawks, the Houston NDAs, and oh by the way the NFC East. The Giants committed to a rebuild this year by gutting every dumbass Gettleman expenditure and still have a chance to compete in half the games on their schedule.

The Verdict

Predicting which of these teams will have the better year is almost as tough of an exercise as producing a quality NFL team in New Jersey. The Giants have the path of least resistance, a bright offensive mind, and zero expectations. The Jets on the other hand, have an absolutely brutal schedule, but a wealth of young talent coupled with continuity in year 2 of Saleh’s regime.

Our keyboard warriors think it’ll be another year of mediocrity for both New York teams, but with the caveat of both showing marked improvement and leaving their respective fanbases with plenty to look forward to in the coming years. With that said, we’re going to lean green in a tight race this season with the record predictions as follows:

Jets: 7-10

Giants: 6-11

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incorrectcpucsquotes · 3 years

Conversation

If CPUCS Fighters had crit quotes

Vincent: Judgement is past!

Blood Falcon: Repent from the grave!

Dark Vince: You're making me work!

Commissioner: I'll keep it simple!

Kirby: I. Do not. LIKE YOU!

Tony: For Vincent!

Naomi: I aim for greatness!

Punished Convict: Pick a god and pray!

Blue Incin: OUT OF MY WAY!

PG Incin: No openings, I'll make one!

Toyconvict: Die with your regrets!

Zelda: Say Goodnight!

Link: Well excuse me Princess!

Rosa: Sweet Dreams!

Major: Expect Perfection!

Alpha: It's about sending a message!

Jo: I didn't order a crit!

Ness: I'm sorry, but this is war!

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cesimnida · 2 years

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[KDRAMA REVIEW] Our Beloved Summer

I am a sucker for slow-burn romances, angst and all that and this one is just right up my alley!!! If you love those things, I definitely recommend OBS for you! To be honest, my mind's a little clouded and I am not yet done crying as I am drafting this but I want to write this as soon as possible so I won't forget the feeling.

Note: I want this to be as spoiler free as possible but I might have spoiled some minor things.

Our Beloved Summer is one of my most anticipated dramas; Wooshik's acting got me ever since I saw him in Train to Busan and I really liked Dami's performance in Itaewon Class. I haven't watched The Witch Part I yet though but yes, I'm planning to watch it soon (maybe this weekend?). Initially, I expected this as a typical rom-com drama where they were high school friends whose relationship developed through the years and ended up as lovers in the present. Amazingly, adding up the ex-lovers trope SERIOUSLY SEALED THE DEAL FOR ME. However, I started the drama 3 weeks late because I was trying to finish another drama before committing myself to OBS. Since reading the plot, I was pretty sure that I won't be able to finish any other drama once I start this because I will be so invested in it. Turns out I was right and thankfully, I managed finishing my previously currently watching drama before starting it.

Watching Our Beloved Summer was such a treat because the story-telling and transition is so smooth even though we have two timelines - the past and present lives (or documentary) of Ung and Yeonsoo. Even with this, I never felt confused while watching which is a plus for me as I get confused with alternating timelines easily. Additionally, I LOVE the OSTs! The songs play just in time to make a scene more meaningful and emotional which was very effective in triggering my tears most of the time. I have also read the OST translations and I kid you not, being able to know the meaning behind the lyrics adds up to the emotional effect of the songs every time it's played in a certain scene. I never NOT cried hearing There For You ever since I read the translations, I swear! The lyrics are related to their story, it felt like they're Yeonsu and Ung's letters for each other. It was such a wonderful feeling being able to watch a drama that can make you feel like you are also involved in the story because watching Our Beloved Summer made me feel like I was watching Ung and Yeonsu’s story behind Ji Ung's lenses.

Dami and Wooshik went above and beyond my expectations! The ✨chemistry✨ was over the top, their micro-expressions and the little details they add in their acting (e.g., those on cue tears, facial expressions, little adlibs, etc.) made a big difference and they definitely owned Yeonsu and Ung. They made themselves as their characters and it's hard to imagine different actors playing the roles they played in this drama. Actually, the supporting characters did a stellar job as well! This is why I really liked the ending: they gave their friends and family their well-deserved spotlights in the last episode! Honestly, this is one of the best endings I have ever watched, they wrapped it up so beautifully I'm so speechless, all I did was cry happy tears.

Our Beloved Summer is not just about ex-lovers meeting and falling in love again but instead, it's a tale of two individuals finding the path in confronting their fears and past that haunts them, being able to overcome these with the help of the people they love most and of course, themselves. It's about acceptance of past mistakes, forgiveness and growth. They also perfectly showed that healing is a painful process but it isn't impossible to overcome if you have the right mindset and a good set of support system - that quality is better than quantity and communication is always the key. And most importantly, it showed us the beauty in finding a love you thought was lost and it taught us to trust the process - that there's always a chance in discovering what you truly want for yourself and being happy again.

It's heartwarming to see the relationship and dynamics they have with the people around them. Even though small in numbers but it is of good quality - just what they needed. It made me realize that having just the right amount of people you can trust is the life I wish to have. Having these people around and sometimes telling them what they needed to hear allowed them to grow outside their comfort zones and realize, albeit later than I expected, how lucky they are for having them in the good and bad times of their life. Being able to witness their journey was such a ride and I'd love to experience it all over again by re-watching it!

Thinking of it, the plot is simple but it was written and executed so beautifully and will most certainly stay in my heart for a long time. The way they showed us the different love languages being present in the leads' relationship added a different kind of intimacy to the scenes, it's such a wonderful thing to watch. The journey was full of tears, happy and sad, but definitely worth it! My only complaint is that I thought this was a rom-com but why do I feel like I cried most of the time? Lol. But still, 100/10!

Thank you OBS team! That was a good run. I'll probably have a hard time watching a new series so I'll just bask into the OBS greatness for now.

#Our Beloved Summer #Choi Wooshik #Kim Dami #Kook Yeonsu #Choi Ung

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randombtsprincessa · 3 years

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Belladonna || 1

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Min Yoongi x Reader, Past Lovers! AU

Words: 3k

Genre: Heavy Angst, Smut

Rating: This chapter is General up to NC-17, rating might go up as story progresses.

Summary: Your life has finally settled into a routine; keeping you far away from your home, friends, family and the man who broke your heart. Coming back home means facing him again and maybe you’re not as over him as you’d like to believe.

Warnings: (in-chap) Heavy Angst, mentions of a toxic relationship.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The idol used as the Muse for the lead is not in anyway affiliated with the work. The characterisation is a work of mine. Any asks or accusations against the work on the grounds of inability to keep fact and fiction seperate on the part of the reader, will not be entertained.

A/N: Its’s rather sad that the disclaimer has to be added but eh, it’s a bad time for tumblr writing fandom and people are being very mean. Brush past that if you’re sane. Anyway, a very very huge hug to my best friends for screaming at me about this fic. A bunch of thanks to @softyoongiionly for hyping up the chapter! And a round of applause for @kithtaehyung for beta-ing the chappie!!

Happy Birthday Yoonfie baby!!

It was cold inside the cabin, the air conditioner turned extreme while the outer windows fogged with condensation. Your head leaned against the pane, the thudding and rolling of the train wheels under you jarring your brain in your skull as you watched the world outside flash speedily by.

Trees, small gravelly roads, sign boards, sparse traffic here and there…and then rolling grasslands before the pattern repeated itself…redundant, normal, and soothing.

You sighed, a puff of white exhale clouding around your mouth while your eyes drifted back to the interior of the cabin. This sight was a lot more different, with different people having different lives, problems, worries…

A woman tended to her sniffling child, holding a handkerchief up to the girl’s running nose…a man spoke into his phone; harried and rushed as he more likely than not slurred a few words together…

It was when your eyes caught a girl laying her head on the boy next to hers’ shoulder, smiling serenely when the boy ran a hand through her locks that you turned around again, eyes back to watching the redundant.

There was nothing soothing about people watching.

Or maybe there was and it required some form of inner peace to find the charm in it.

You didn’t have that sort of inner peace; neither did you have the patience for it.

People watching for people like you was anxiety inducing…and you really didn’t want that burden on your shoulders right now. There would be enough anxiety waiting for you when you set your foot home.

“____?”

You turned coffee worn, blue light sunken eyes towards your boss, standing over you with his files clutched to his chest nervously. The sight was enough to make you chuckle. For all his genius, Kim Namjoon was just a giant fumbling through life. It made him a stellar boss and manager, but it also made him a wonderful friend.

“Yes?”

“I just got your email for the leave application.”

You blinked up at your boss expectantly, face calm and relaxed. Of course, your brain had shot straight to overdrive, praying, wishing, and begging for a miracle that would allow your boss to refute the application.

A large red denied would do nothing to hamper your mood; at least it would stamp down the very intrusive tendril of panic that was already gripping around you.

You waited until Namjoon was done rustling inside of the folder in the crook of his arm. The white print out was placed in front of you, green letterings spelling ACCEPTED AND FORWARDED, scrawled on the top screaming obscenities at you.

You looked back at Namjoon.

“We don’t have a lot of work load right now plus you look dead on your feet. Some time away with your folks will be nice, won’t it?”

You very nearly grimaced at his words.

He was sincere, of course he was. Namjoon didn’t have a conniving bone in his body, but right now, you couldn’t help but resent his kindness, his mushy brain that railed against exploiting his workers. You hated the fact that he looked into your eyes and saw past the stubborn energy and caught onto the exhausted person underneath.

So you offered him a tiny smile, just in case the flicker of your crushing despair was made clear onto your traitor face.

“Thank you, Namjoon.”

He placed a heavy, tight hand on your shoulder as he passed by.

“Have a nice vacation, ____.”

Usually, someone who was away from home, working their ass off, making something of themselves away from their family should ideally jump at the chance to take a vacation, to go home and see the family and friends they had.

Ideally…one should be happy at the prospect of going home.

So many times, however, situations were rarely ideal. Sometimes there were complications, convolutions, obstacles…

Sometimes people had no love in their hearts; sometimes there was nothing at all.

Sometimes, there was dread.

Right then, in the rattling carriage that carried you to the small town which had spawned your existence, you could sense the dread carving a pit into your stomach, roiling and curling like a wretched cat kept too long from sunshine.

There was no relief for the upcoming long sleepy times, no joy at the prospect of home food…of warm embraces…

There was just that god awful dread.

You hoped you wouldn’t throw up; though there was nothing in your stomach to hurl but for the coffee you’d pumped in you from the station café. You couldn’t keep anything else down.

You had upped and left your home right after the end of your college life. Many things had come to an end with that particular period in your life. You had scampered and scrapped together enough courage to exit the hole that still robbed you of breath sometimes when you twisted and turned in your bed – sleepless.

You had left shattered pieces of your heart in your whirling escape of the town, the space that you had now the only light that shone at the end of the tunnel back then. Your family and friends, as supportive as they were, had never truly understood why you had nearly clawed away from that world.

To them, it had been the job opportunity.

And it was understandable…

The town, as well-knit and seemingly lovable as it was, was used to being self sufficient. The people there didn’t ever need to leave, they knew everything, helped everyone, and any problem one of them had was a problem for them all.

You couldn’t fit yourself in that mold anymore.

You had left – knowingly cut yourself away from that community.

Your friends had remained; some spreading out of course but they were still as much a part of that bunch as they had been when born.

You didn’t expect anything from them.

Not when he was also still a part of that community.

Your mind jerked away moments before conjuring his likeness behind your eyes, the ticket collector bearing down to save you from the torture of it.

Your fingers fumbled with the pockets of your bag, slipping the stub into his patient hands as he clipped and handed it back to you.

You accepted it meekly, folding into yourself again, eyes drifting back out the window and firmly tugging your thoughts away from your past. You had to prepare for what was going to come now.

Nobody expected you to come, you knew. It was a surprise to you yourself that you had found enough guts in you to pull this off.

Namjoon’s words came back to you.

Some time away with your folks will be nice, won’t it?

You weren’t going to hold out much hope for that.

You found a cab almost immediately out of the station, the many cruisers that stood to one side eager to free you of your luggage and take you off to your destination. You gave your address shakily, hoping this particular driver wasn’t one of the townspeople. Luckily, the man didn’t bat an eye, instead nodding and quietly switching on the radio for the drive over.

You leaned back into the seats, arms grasping the strap of your handbag tight as the moment to face your family and close ones drew closer.

Objectively, your little hometown was very pretty.

Trees lined the major roads, small clusters of buildings interjecting the greenery to spread business to the good people. And as tense as you were, your mind couldn’t help but pick out the differences.

Boutiques were newer and flashier, the diners you remembered now expanded to add cafes or banquets. The town hall was an imposing as ever, only a new marble fountain added to the square in front of it now.

By the time your cab entered the section of the suburbs where you had grown up; your back was straight, neatly aligned with the window. If you had been dreading the homecoming before, it was all gone; replaced with an odd form of resignation.

You lugged your bags out and paid the taxi driver with cold hands, winding bloodless fingers around the handles to pull them up the drive way towards your open door.

The house was full, open and bustling – a normal day for when your mother threw one of her success parties. She was one of the famous people in the town, her career as a landscaper and home decorator for big names making her in turn the man source of revenue and attraction for the town.

It had been both a source of pride and embarrassment to you in your teens. Mainly because your mother insisted on these parties each and every time one of her projects turned out well. But then, as you grew you realized that this is why your mother was important to the town.

She was more than half the money earned and the social events of the calendar.

Inside the house, small clusters of people gathered here and there, in the living room, the kitchen, the dining space. You stood at the door; feeling more exposed than you ever had here but moved in quickly, lest one of them notice you in the doorway and start blabbering about it.

Of course, the three big bags that you carried more than made up for it.

One of the groups of women nearest you turned their heads in synchrony, taking double looks as you passed by before the murmurs began.

How could you tell?

Well because, gossip usually lowers ones’ volume. And each group you passed stopped conversing before muttering arose in its place.

You cut across the living room to your father’s den. Here, there were all men, hands cupping your dad’s cut glasses of scotch but thankfully no one mentioned you dumping your bags right by the door and walking back out.

Your hands fiddled with your scarf, wondering where your family was in their own party but you were loathing asking one of the guests.

Even as you convinced yourself to walk over to one of the ladies by the window sofa, a figure walked past opposite you, a handful of trays of cocktail bites and glasses on them. You jumped, watching as the woman placed the trays on the coffee table, smiling at the people before she turned…and spotted you.

Your sister’s eyes widened, eyelashes fluttering before quick steps led her closer to you.

“____?” She asked, almost checking if it really was you.

You smiled wryly, hand still tangled with your scarf. “Hi Sana, yes it’s me.”

“Oh my god!” She threw herself at you, arms wrapping around your neck to draw you into a warm and nearly forgotten embrace. You stood in her hold for a few seconds, managing to pat her back before she was pulling away, eyes glistening at you.

“Oh god, don’t cry,” you whispered immediately.

“Shut up, these are happy tears; my little sister is home! Hang on; I’ll go get Mom and Dad.” She turned on her heel before you got another word out, mouth parted as she disappeared into the house.

You stood rooted to the spot, hoping against hope she brought your dad first. You just knew your mom would start bawling and then all the neighbors and her social circle would start hovering like the pack of vultures you had the low opinion of them as.

It was unfair and very rude of you, yes, but you couldn’t help but remember half the rumors and gossip that had come from none other than these same people when you had first left. Sympathy or well wishes from them now, would only make you more disgusted.

It had made you keep your own mother at a distance, seeing as she was probably the source of their information.

Thankfully, you knew you could always depend on your dad.

A no-nonsense and rational person, he was only guilty of being extremely in love with your mother. You knew he only bore these parties for her sake and of course your sister, Sana’s.

So when you saw Sana come back, with both your parents you still heaved a relived sigh.

“____, my god, you’re really here.” Your mother was the second to hug you, your father following.

“We didn’t think you would make it this year too.” Your dad said.

“Yeah, it’s been hectic…a lot…for the last couple years.” You repeated the same lies you’d been spouting for two years now. You had spoken the same lines into your phone, in your emails over months and it came much easier while speaking them to their faces.

“Very hectic for a well-established firm, ____, you could’ve asked for a leave, I’m sure office policy allows that.” Your dad said in that logical baritone that rendered most arguments moot.

“That is actually how I got away, Namjoon insisted.” You said; not completely untrue.

“Well, I for one am very happy my little girl is back to me. You’ll stay for a bit, won’t you?” Your mother stroked your hair back from your face.

You smiled tightly at her, thinking of the weeks Namjoon had generously piled on you out of respect for your relentless working for two years under him.

“Yes.”

You caught Sana try and push in, her eyes seeking yours even as your mother squealed in jubilation. “Perfect, we are going to have to throw you a coming home party.”

“Y/M/N,” Your father said lightly. “We are at a party now.”

“Yes, but ____ deserves her own night.” Sana put in before grabbing your hand. “Come on,” she dragged you away from your debating parents.

“Not a lot has changed I guess.” You spoke drily.

“Yeah, maybe, listen I think we need to –”

Sana was cut off by a gasp of your name, your head swiveling to see Park Jimin, one of your old friends gaping at you.

It was a whirlwind of reunions and emotions as people gathered around you, astonished that you’d come back without any mention of it.

“Yeah, I – I guess, it’s a surprise.” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, going over the faces of your childhood to college friends.

Many things had changed while you were gone, true – to the town, to the people and even to your friends but one thing you were glad to see…they hadn’t cut you away completely. Yes, your interaction with them had been reduced to the odd Facebook and Twitter chats and the occasional emails and texts here and there but they still looked…happy to see you.

Park Jimin and his twin, Jihyo had been the first ones to come to you, Jihyo hugging you tightly enough to make you wince. She had been your roommate in college; she probably knew you as well as Sana did – maybe even better. She had introduced you to Jimin and the three of you had been inseparable throughout your college life.

Jimin had apparently been friends with one of your childhood friends, Kim Taehyung.

You were not so shocked to know he was now married, living next door to you with his wife, Nayeon. Sweet and charming, she hugged you like her husband.

“It’s almost like I already know you,” she explained to your unsure smile, “they talk about you so much.”

“Ugh, I’m already worried.” You cringed.

“They were all nice things don’t worry. We had to put down a couple old gossips down here and there, though.” Jimin came to defend his friend.

You glanced at them curiously.

“Oh yeah, it was just old gossipy hags around the town, don’t worry about it. People moved on from you pretty soon to a Miss Mina. She’s a spinster, which apparently is a sin.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “She lives a few houses from us.”

“Also, I think your mom told that friend of hers, Dahyun to stop people gossiping about you. They were task-forcing the town. It was fun to watch.” Jimin added.

A sudden wave of affection for your mother rose up in you, before being quelled by the reminder that she must have done it to protect her own image.

You shrugged then, picking up a glass from one of the trays to take a sip of your mother’s homemade cocktail – fruity and simple on your tongue.

“Enough about me, what about you all?” you pointed at Tae and Nayeon, “Married with a house,” your finger moved to Jimin, “Sports coach,” then Jihyo, “Choreographer,” you stopped.

“What about the others, any news?”

“Not really, we are the ones who still live here you know. Plus, no offense to your mom, but I doubt folks would leave their city jobs to come to her parties.” Jihyo muttered; exchanging a glance of solidarity with you before her eyes widened suddenly.

“What?” you asked.

Her eyes quickly went to her brother, Jimin’s eyes a little more slow on the uptake but they widened too…before repeating the process – albeit comically – with Taehyung.

“What is wrong with you all?” You asked again.

“Um, ____, did Sana tell you -?”

Jimin paused nervously, refusing to look at you as he fiddled with the rim of his glass.

“Tell me what?”

He looked helplessly at his sister. Jihyo hesitated before placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Listen, ____, while you were gone” -

She broke off, her eyes darting over your shoulder and stuttering to a stop.

In that moment of her silence, the conversation behind you was clearer.

Or rather, one particular voice was…

Low and deep – soft morning grumbles came back to you – muffled conversations from behind you made you turn around.

It was a voice you would know anywhere. It was one that haunted your dreams, one that crested the ache in your heart on particularly bad days…

It was one you would know beyond a void.

Min Yoongi stood directly across from you, in your home, undoing his coat and removing his scarf, conversing lowly with your sister.

Something she quickly muttered to him had him freezing, long nimble fingers stopping in the unknotting of his scarf.

And then as if he could feel your gaze, could feel your presence, the reason why you left everything behind looked straight up at you, eyes locking across a room…just like the day you had first seen him.

#ficswithluv #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #yoongi #bts #bts suga #suga #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #bangtan

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void-inked-pen · 4 years

Text

Cowabunga! Its 2012 Mikey VS Rise Mikey Fighting Time~

This post might get a bit long because I wanna put a lot more into it instead of making 3 separate posts. So this will have 2012!Mikey’s fighting analysis and comparing it with Rise!Mikey.

SO! let me just say, I have to analyze them differently from the others. What I mean is, the way Mikey fights in all versions is mainly by instinct and tends to be all over the place. He’s a free fighter, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have some technique.

The Nunchuku is a very dynamic weapon. it requires you to have spacial awareness at all times, especially if you use 2 Nunchucku like Mikey. there’s only one move specifically I’ve never seen Mikey in 2012 do and that’s a closed Nunchuku punch which adds twice the force to a regular punch.

The Nunchucku are also symbolism of freedom and creativity. Wonder why our orange boy got this particular weapon? hmmmmm...

Training with Nunchuku is actually quite intense. Just like the Bo staff, you’re prone to hit yourself... a lot. It’s one of the few weapons that move through the air and require very specific movements. (Rise Mikey can’t even do it)

Nunchucku are actually considered part of the Iron Body training regiment, it makes you tough. When you use a Nunchucku you’re using a very specific set of muscles that most athletes, martial artists, or weight training individuals don’t use too often. These include your ribs, arm pit and other side muscles that are weaker than the rest of the body.

Compared to his brothers, Mikey in 2012 would have the strongest/toughest side muscles and upper arms. Both Donnie and Mikey’s weapons are prone to hitting themselves so both of them would get tougher the more they practiced... too bad the show never showed that strength huh?

2012 Mikey tends to do what martial artists call, “Juggling”. Which means flashy moves that just throw around the chucks and don’t have any practical use. Personally, I think Mikey doing that is actually okay. it fits his personality. from a fighting standpoint tho, you’ll be prone to loosing your weapon.

Also like Donnie, 2012 Mikey has to have extremely good balance. A solid stance and fluid control help our energetic Boi do crazy flips and control his otherwise out of control Nunchucku. It helps that 2012 Mikey uses b-boy moves when fighting. break dancing is actually a very practical way to learn how to hold your own weight and move more freely.

Now, let me talk about 2012 Mikey’s Kusari-Gama (Chain Sickle). Did you know this weapon in particular is meant for assassination? You use the weighted chain side to pull your target towards you and the sickle to quickly slit their throat/decapitate them... Kind of a um... Intense weapon for Mikey which honestly makes him quite scary (ESPECIALLY SINCE THIS PART OF HIS ARSENAL IS HIS MOST REFINED MIGHT I ADD).

There’s only a slight difference between 2012 Mikey’s Kusari-gama and Rise Mikey’s Kusari-Fundo (weighed-chain). Obviously aside from the fact that Rise Mikey’s Kusari-Fundo has pyro abilities.

While Rise Mikey tends to focus on long distance, 2012 Mikey is close and mid-ranged. Let me explain, 2012 Mikey doesn’t really have a super long extendable chain. Where as Rise Mikey’s can extend exponentially!

From what I’ve seen so far (Im currently watching season 2 now), 2012 Mikey doesn’t use his Kusari-gama all that often. And unfortunately, whenever 2012 Mikey DOES show his stellar fighting skills, it’s always when he’s on the sidelines. Never when he’s the central point of an episode. This makes it hard to watch for Mikey at least because they use him as the butt end of a joke more often than not and he’s never really allowed to be serious or have a cool focal point on some crazy fighting maneuver.

The show doesn’t give him the recognition he deserves with his fighting prowess. He’s the most naturally gifted at martial arts IN CANON, but yet they don’t let him show off that skill all that often. I’m speaking from personal bias now because I wish the “B-team” got more appreciation. They are as good if not better than the so called “A-team” who, btw, DON’T FIGHT CORRECTLY! (and I’ll get into that later)

What I wished 2012 would do with Mikey, is let him be free. Let him fight creatively and not have him seem like a complete idiot. Just like Donnie and the rest of his brothers, he should be close to a ‘Master’ in skill level. So why the show didn’t feel the need to use him more effectively outside of a joke is beyond me. (If you want a show that has a comedic character who has serious moments and is done well: look at the ORIGINAL Teen Titans. Beast Boy’s arc is one of the best)

Anyway, hope this analysis was something worth reading. I won’t make a Rise Mikey fighting analysis post cause... this one kinda talks about it already. They both are creative and dynamic. what’s more to say?

I’ll link my previous analysis posts below. Thanks for reading!

How 2012 Donnie’s Fighting Is Incorrect

Difference between 2012 Donnie and Rise Donnie’s Fighting Skills

Rise Donnie Fighting Analysis

#pen talks #analysis #fight choreography #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #riseofthetmnt #tmnt mikey

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haliyam · 3 years

Text

interim (ii)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 3

Hi again! I forgot to note in the first chapter that Reader here is 19 years old, while Zeke is 25. (Clearly, before the developments of this story, there was nothing but friendship there.) For the other Warriors, I put Pieck at 19 as well, while Porco is Reiner's age (around 17/18 that year). Marcel would have been the same age as Pieck and Reader in my headcanon. If you're not comfortable with the age difference, I understand.

Also, about university here so you don't get confused this chapter - I lifted the medical school system for Marley from Germany's current system where after a competitive state exam post-high school, students are able to head straight for medical school for a 6-year track followed by specialization.

Reminder that the Reader/OC, default name Lucy, is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background, but please feel free to set the substitution for the Reader to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension if you’re reading through the browser! So that would be: Lucy = Your or your character's First Name. Because reader will have a set background, you'll have a set surname as well.

Chapter 2

You don’t even get a moment to breathe. General List launches into a speech about the nerve of other so-called nations almost as soon as you sit down. Apparently, those in the Mid East peninsula have grown considerably bold over the last few months, with several navy ships withdrawing from the port of Ichakar and transferring, presumably, to Qali - which gives them a better angle from which to attack the mainland if they so wish it. They’ve also fortified their borders—ground troops distributed across the land close to Marley’s newly acquired cities—which is of course the sovereign right of those nations, but it’s blasphemy to the regime’s unending ambition.

You wish they had given you a brief with all this information before the meeting, the kind you have seen Willy and father poring over in their office in the past, but you get the feeling that the general is unloading information on you with the intent to overwhelm.

“On the diplomatic front,” he continues with a hint of mockery, because of course he thinks of such things as futile, “they have been making demands. Asking that we keep to our waters when it is they who have encroached upon ours! The audacity—the delineation clearly states—” He continues to ramble until he is red in the face, but your neutral expression must slip into a wide-eyed look at some point, because he regains his composure with a visible wrinkle of his nose. “This arrogance can only mean one thing.”

He stares at you, and you realize he is expecting you to answer. You feel all eyes at the table on you, the Commander’s especially, and clear your throat. “...Weapons research, Sir?”

“Weapons development, Miss Tybur,” he corrects you. “Advanced and more prolific than we may have considered.”

He pauses, and you can’t help but speak. You can tell Magath knows it because he sits up straighter somehow, and in a moment of rebellion, you refuse to recognize the caution in his posture. “With all due respect, Sir, the… armaments race among the other nations is no secret, and on Eldian labor, no less.”

A fist slamming on the desk causes everyone around it to jump in their seats. “It’s what Eldians deserve!” the general next to List says, so naturally that he might have been born saying it. You blink, the heat of embarrassment and indignation crawling up your neck, but it’s only with List’s raised hand that the man remembers that the white band on your left arm is only for show. He glances away. “Present company excluded, of course.”

With the exception of his hand, List continues as though neither of you ever interrupted him. “And now, to the point. We need further information on the status of this little race. That is where you come in, Miss Tybur. You will use your family’s connections to enter the peninsula with our people - the peninsula and beyond, as the exact lay of their operations lies beyond our ken - and retrieve this information.”

It’s one thing to predict a general’s words and another to be confronted with them. You suppose you were still hoping he wouldn’t say it. “General List, are you saying you want a Tybur to be a spy?”

List glances over at Magath. “They were trained for interrogation, weren’t they?” Your old instructor is barely able to nod before the general recalls to you, “Ah, yes, I read the file. You withstood all but the final test. A failure then, but rather more a fluke, in my opinion. An irreplicable circumstance.”

You don’t say anything. You would rather not remember that night. Or that particular moment.

He takes your silence for agreement. “And so I answer, why not? You became a Warrior candidate - unprecedented initiative and involvement by the Tybur family. Why should this be any different?”

“Because—” Because becoming a Warrior isn’t a choice a child makes of their own free will, not really, but a Tybur doesn’t question the decisions of the former head of the family, of father, before all these strangers. No matter that they were loyal to him. You purse your lips. “Sir, I just don’t believe I’m the right person for this.”

“Your file did say you were always hasty, Miss Tybur,” List says, and you both glance at Magath at that. He doesn’t nod, only meets your gazes. He seems as trapped in this as you are, which makes your resentment for him ebb only slightly. “But you should know better now.”

Now you’re getting irritated. The temper that was your closest companion in your early childhood, and then your early adolescence seizes your fist under the table as List continues. “How goes Foundation operations?”

The Tybur Family Foundation. Set up by Walter Tybur when he first became head of the family and operated by the eponymous Tyburs - most often chaired by the spouse of whoever leads it. Your mother first, once, when she cared to, and now Mila. It provides healthcare and educational opportunities for ‘peoples once oppressed by the Eldian Empire,’ as part of continuing reparations for sins the Tybur family did not commit. Or so they say. Many of its employees now are Eldian, part of Willy’s initiative to improve Eldian relations… but in reality it does little when the Foundation is only a grantmaking organization.

“Well enough, Sir.”

“Is that so? From what I hear, the Foundation is unable to set up even offices in several countries in spite of the family’s stellar international relations.”

“And,” you add carefully, “if they ever catch wind of my close involvement with the regime even after all this time, that will not improve.”

“Clearly, Miss Tybur.” His level gaze shifts to patronizing in all the ways you hate. “But say you become more independent. Distance yourself from the military that leads our fine motherland… Say,” he smiles, “that you make overtures of dissatisfaction with Marley’s cruel expansionist policies and express the utmost sympathy for other nations. Perhaps then they will permit you to expand your operations within their borders.”

Your jaw almost drops at the very suggestion. You’ve always thought, since Willy became Lord Tybur, that only the Tyburs have the power to change the direction of Marley. For obvious reasons, not so obvious to the rest of the world, but also for the heritage you represent. If the Tybur family can be good Eldians, why can they not be only one of many good Eldians? Why not introduce the concept that any Eldian can be good, as any other race of people?

“You…” You rein in your reaction even as your imagination sets off in the direction List has set it—and far more. Especially the part where the Tybur family spreads the good name of Eldians throughout the world. No more ‘special’ treatment, no more interment zones…

No more Warriors.

Maybe. If Marley gets what it wants.

You would allow that? was your question. But the answer, you understand suddenly, is that they would allow perhaps the chance of it, in exchange for Marley’s continued expansion using Eldian bodies on the front lines. A slim chance of sparing Eldian lives for the certainty of losing them. You feel lightheaded just considering it. You want to help, but you are the last person who should hold so many lives in her hands.

Your eyes refocus on General List. A pleased smile brims beneath his well-trimmed beard, like he’s already read your mind. But he can’t know—you’ve shared your thoughts with no one but Willy and Lara, who have been as dismissive as they have been receptive. In other words, as though you’re still the child father sent away thirteen years ago they expect will eventually forget all her questions.

“Does Lord Tybur know about this, Sir?” You eye the intelligence officer not far from List.

List clears his throat. “Not as yet. Lord Tybur might be more receptive to such a scheme were his sister to present it to him herself. We are aware that Lady Tybur chairs the Foundation. Her movements are conservative, but she may agree to a more generous, active Foundation on your word.”

Scheme. That’s what it is, but that isn’t what really catches your attention. Willy and Mila, listening to you? You want to burst into laughter, tell them that they have severely misunderstood the dynamics of the Tybur family. But that intelligence officer is here, which makes you think List is lying.

“Why not ask Lady Tybur to head the operation?”

“Lord Tybur would never allow us to risk his wife,” List laughs. The implication of his words is hardly lost on you, but the general tempers his mockery with a compliment. “And we believe a new, younger face for the Foundation - perhaps one our enemies believe to be foolishly idealistic - will better suit it.”

Foolishly idealistic. Like the sort of person who would agree to this plan. Your face doesn’t fall, but your eyes do - toward the table, the way the fingers of each general drum against the wood. Magath’s hands clasp each other, firm as ever. When you look up to List again, you frown.

“Sir, you know that I’ve returned to Liberio to enter the university’s medical program.”

“Yes, yes, we were quite impressed when we learned of your state exam results, Miss Tybur,” List waves, impatient. He’s been relaxed back against his chair, but now that his certainty is dwindling, he leans forward on the table. “But think. Look at the bigger picture. As a physician you may help a man in need one after the other - years and years down the line. Six years at the shortest, and if you mean to be a specialist, how much longer? But with the Foundation’s resources, and with our backing at that, you will aid hundreds, thousands - and the motherland most importantly. Within the year. Half, if we move quickly.”

You bite your lip. You want it and you don’t. The Tyburs must do something, or else we are nothing were your exact words to Willy before. But the idea of retaking your name when you have only just arrived here nauseates you, and assisting the expansion, the destruction, under the guise of aid more so.

“I… would like time to give this some thought, Sir.”

A sigh seems to echo around the room, but it’s only all the men with you and their exasperation. Only Magath is expressionless as List visibly bites his tongue. He gives the commander a glare for good measure, as though it’s his fault you did not agree at once. “Very well,” he says. “But know that prolonging this will only bring harm to the motherland.”

You only nod. Much as you would like to have it, you have no intention of getting the last word here. You avert your gaze from the Commander when you permit the men to leave the room ahead of you.

It seems like the start of a rather miserable day - you’re practically scheduled to overthink all this some time this week, if not this afternoon - when, once the steady march of power has cleared from the hallway, Pieck meets you as you step out of the conference room.

“Boo.”

Your hand flies over your chest, but it’s a chuckle that comes out of you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“So I’ve been told.” She peeks into the room behind you right as you close the doors. “The brass did not look pleased.”

You wince. “I gave them no reason to be. I hate to get the Commander in trouble, but...” You trail off. You both know you can’t say much more.

It’s Pieck’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“...Sorry.”

“That’s all right,” she shrugs. “I came here for lunch, not information.”

You doubt she knows the extent of the Tyburs’ relationship with the regime, but you can always trust Pieck to know not to pry. “You know, I remember now why you’re my favorite Warrior.”

“Oh?” Pieck grins. “Not the Boy Wonder?”

“Boy Wonder,” you repeat, the way the two of you always have when that name comes up - with a snicker and definitely with no one else around. You’ll never understand how the brass can say it with such straight faces. “So how about that meal?”

She pinches at the skin of your elbow through your sleeve. “Changing the subject doesn’t work on me, you know.”

You sigh. “Can we please eat first? I’m miserable enough without an empty stomach.”

“I guess some things don’t change.”

“Hey!” You half-scoff, half-laugh. With a wink, Pieck slips her arm around yours, and you start down the hallway in companionable silence.

Or you would, if you didn’t know that you owe her a little more than that. Reaching over to rest your free hand over the arm linked with yours, you look at her. “I’m sorry, Pieck. I really am.”

Pieck waits a moment, and then meets your gaze. She searches yours for the lie, but she already knows it won’t be there. You always were too candid for your own good. With a squeeze at your hand, she nods. “I know. Tell me all about it after that meal. Your treat, right?”

You blink, and then laugh with shaking relief. “Of course.”

You and Pieck fall back into the easy rapport you’ve shared since you became friends more than a decade ago. Contrary to her words, she doesn’t press you for answers as you decide on where to eat in the zone. For old times’ sake, you agree on the sandwich place two blocks from the Yeagers’, and you end up sharing a meal in your bedroom.

Sitting on your bed together, legs dangling over one edge as you nip at your food, you finally work up the courage to speak through your guilt and explain yourself and the past five years—or most of it. And of course Pieck is understanding, which makes you feel even more pathetic. True to form, she picks that up as well and gracefully changes the subject.

You’re the one who brings it back to what still hangs in the air over you when you’ve finished eating. Nothing personal—but though Marcel was the only one with whom you were ever close friends with, Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie were your teammates too. You’d suffered your superiors together during training, and you’d been there for each of their first transformations. For all the experiments too; even their first assault mission.

“What happened?”

Propped up on one elbow, Pieck is lying on her side, legs tucked under her skirt as you set aside your trash. She accepts the glass you hand her from the table, eyes distant. “Zeke hasn’t told you?”

“Zeke won’t look at me unless he absolutely has to. You know how he is.”

Pieck groans. She knows. “He was so irritating after you stopped writing.”

You click your teeth in a wince. “Really?”

“Imagine, Lucy—after you all left, I was stuck with him and Porco. The abandonment issues didn’t just double, they were exponential. Multiply that with the ego and the sarcasm? The Commander was my favorite person those days.”

You laugh in spite of yourself. “I am so sorry, Pieck.”

“You should be,” she grumbles, but the remark is softened with a grin. When you grimace, she braces herself with a deep breath.

She tells you everything, or most of it: that the people of Paradis were shocked to find others alive outside of the walls, what Reiner and Bertholdt and Annie went through the past so many years, how the latter were captured—and exactly what happened to Marcel. She saves that one for last, and though you are infinitely more curious about the world behind the coward king’s walls, you reach for her hand again.

“I’m sorry, Pieck.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to make apologies all day, you know.”

“Don’t I?” you grin, embarrassed, teeth gritted even when your feigned mirth starts to droop. The dreamy way she speaks throws others off, but you know Pieck. She’s always been the most pragmatic of the Warriors and so she must feel silly, thinking about what could have been, had Marcel returned. Would a childhood crush have become something more between them if things were different? He had promised his family, and her specifically, that he would come home after saving the world. The thought, the regret for a chance not even yours gone, has a weight settling in your throat too.

You clear it and huff. “Well, it’s a great loss. I think everyone was a little in love with Marcel.”

Pieck glances at you.

“...Except Annie,” you add.

The sudden exemption makes Pieck choke with laughter, with tears not far behind. “Except Annie. Of course.”

You giggle, and both of you pretend not to see each other wiping your own eyes. “You know. Annie was always the toughest among us.” You pause. “Is. She is.” When Pieck’s laughter gives way to somber agreement, you ask, “What about Reiner? What has he said? I know what he’s said, but… two weeks of debriefing… it sounds like a little much.”

“He was there for years,” Pieck shakes her head. “He grew up there, Lucy. He’s… completely different now. Kind of like you.”

“I think that’s giving me a little too much credit.” You haven’t done anything remotely in the way of serving the motherland; not that you begrudge the others that the way you once did. “All I’ve done is see things and get upset. Until I can get my degree, and then until I can get the War Hammer, there’s nothing I can do.”

That’s a lie. There is apparently the Foundation—but the idea of directly assisting the regime in its efforts is something you cannot consider as you are.

“If you do become a doctor, will they let you have the War Hammer?”

You bite your lip. If only for Lara, you’re still bitter about that. “What was it all for otherwise? Though… I guess if I had inherited it then, there’s no way I’d ever be able to come back and see you all except under specific circumstances. Much less be permitted to study.”

Pieck only sighs, reaching for your hand. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. And when I think about it… a part of me is glad Marcel didn’t have to see all of what Marley has done. What we had to do in Paradis—and I only saw a speck.”

You know what the others did, but Zeke and Pieck’s involvement apart from retrieving your old comrades is still vague.

You squeeze her hand reassuringly, but you can’t help it. “What did you have to do?”

“What we’ve always had to,” she answers with a faint smile. Your friends always had tells when they would rather not say more, and this is unmistakably hers. Given your earlier explanation, you understand why. She intertwines your fingers with gratitude at your silence.

“So,” you start after a while, “how about some dessert before I walk you back to HQ?”

“Sure. I might as well treat myself a little before we have to head out to the mountains again.” At your questioning gaze, she says, “Training with the Panzer Unit. That’s what all the paperwork was for.”

“Gross.”

She chuckles. “That’s exactly what Zeke says.”

Your face falls at the mention of him. Relieved as you are with your progress with Pieck, Zeke is an entirely different ball game. You hate that that’s the phrase you even thought of.

“You know what?” Pieck sits up smacks her hands on her lap. “I’ll treat you, too.”

You perk up. “Really?”

“For a price.”

“...What’s that?”

“Talk to Zeke already. If I come back after a month to your gloomy faces still, I’m going to go crazy.”

“It’s only been a day,” you mutter. “And I’ve tried to apologize to him.”

Pieck gives you a knowing look.

“I did,” you insist helplessly, but you both know that’s probably a lie. In Pieck’s case. You know it is absolutely false: when Zeke came upstairs after dish duty, quietly closing the door to his room, you stepped out of yours and stood outside in the hallway, your hand raised to knock on his door. You just couldn’t do it. You can take Porco’s jabs any day, but last night, the thought of Zeke and his silence, or worse, his caustic cheer, sent you scurrying back to your room.

You sigh. “Fine.”

Amused, Pieck gets to her feet for the opportunity to loom akimbo over you. “Good. And if you start to lose heart, try to remember that six-year old who used to glare at Magath like she had nothing to lose. That girl had guts.”

“You mean the half-dead one who wasn’t allowed dinner and got a Warrior class’s worth of cleanup duty alone, whom you specifically told to get over herself if she didn’t want to actually die a few months into training?”

“Exactly. What is Zeke going to do? Tell you to go to your room without dinner?”

Maybe. You sigh. “Sometimes I don’t like it when you’re right.”

Pieck grins. “And when Zeke gets over himself—maybe he’ll tell you about his brother.”

Your shock would be better illustrated in this moment were you sipping a drink you could spit in her face. “His what?”

“Shh. I don’t think he’s told the Yeagers. I think… he only told Magath because I was there when he discovered it. Still,” she says when your eyes remain wide and expectant, “it’s not my place to say. So talk to him.”

Medicine is one of the few fields for which Eldians are permitted to pursue higher education. It’s only logical—there are only a few non-Eldians who care to treat pig-blooded devils, and the efforts of those who do are wasted on said filth. And so the regime allows the admission of more Eldians than often permitted under quotas for other majors, even if the number does remain small regardless.

After parting ways with Pieck, you find yourself standing in line in some administrative building in the University of Liberio in the midday heat of summer. The line stretches outside because this is the queue for Eldian students wishing to confirm their intention to enroll over a month from now. That’s all—you need only submit a form and pay a fee, and the line for non-Eldians students has long finished—but of course the line has barely moved for your kind.

You’re clutching your envelope and your permit to your chest, which you quickly realize is a terrible idea. Sweat is starting to trickle down the nape of your neck, and you start to fan yourself with the envelope. Talking to the other applicants in line is prohibited - you must be spaced far from one another so as not to make noise and distract students who actually deserve to be here.

It’s ridiculous. You can’t even leave the line because saving spots is prohibited. Something about being fair.

The frustration crawls up your neck in the form of prickling heat, and you feel a headache coming. You fan yourself more vigorously, trying to calm down. It takes a minute, but the background buzz eventually starts to soothe you, and you begin to accept that you can simply return to the Yeagers’ and change as soon as this is over. The glares your line receives from passing students and the guards watching you, ensuring none of you causes a ruckus (as if any Eldian would dare), fade under the memory of your childhood. You withstood it before, with Magath and the other drill instructors screaming in your face. You can ignore a few nasty looks.

With that as a frame of reference, the line is even almost... peaceful. The heat is dry, not humid, there’s no mud, no blisters in your feet, no rucksack weighing you down, and no rifle either.

Only the sudden rustle of paper as it slips from your thumb interrupts that peace.

“No!” you gasp, watching your permit flutter closer to a guard with his back turned.

Just then a hand swoops in to save it - its owner bent forward, dark hair falling over his face until he rights himself, permit in hand, and glances around. You sigh in relief when you spot the band around his arm and wave him over.

He jogs over to you, hand already extended with the permit. “Confirming your slot for the medical school?” he asks, brushing away the bangs that fall over his face. He’s got the slightest stubble around his jaw, which he brushes his fingers over when he notices you looking.

You meet his gaze when you notice you’re looking. “Yeah,” you say, clearing your throat. He smiles at once, as if he can tell you’re embarrassed, but he only casts a glance at the line behind and ahead of you. “It was a lot worse during my time. They had us looping around the gate.”

“Ugh, really?”

He nods, but swallows down his grimace to lick his lips. “I’ve… never seen you around the zone before.”

You blink. Smile a little as you glance around the line. “You know everyone in the zone?”

He opens his mouth to respond with a sheepish grin that makes his eyes twinkle when movement behind him catches your peripheral vision. One of the guards watching the line has noticed him and is stomping his way over. Noticing your alarm, he sticks out a hand. “I’m Kellan, by the way.”

“Lucy. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Lucy,” he repeats, and you’re barely able to shake his hand when the guard yanks him back.

“Damn pig’s blood—!”

“I’m going, sir. Sorry,” says Kellan, ending the apology with his eyes on you even as he winces from the shorter man’s grip. When he’s eventually released, he ducks away and walks off. He glances over his shoulder to wave, but another guard keeps him moving with a shove.

The shorter one glares at you when he’s gone, and though you remember Pieck’s words, you know this isn’t the time or the place.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes to the ground as you turn ahead. Once he’s assured of your submission, he leaves too.

The line takes longer than you expect, but you survive the sweltering heat and submit your form just before the offices close. You hurry back to the zone afterward, dropping by the Galliard bakery to call on Mr. and Mrs. Galliard and offer your condolences. They are shocked but overjoyed to see you, and insist that you take your old favorites when they discover that you’ll be dropping in on Mr. Finger afterward.

You don’t stay long, though Mr. Finger is pleased about your choice of future employment. You feel even guiltier at the unspoken regret in his smile, and beg him not to mention it when he tries to thank you for the support the Tybur family has sent the Fingers over the years—the one thing you think Willy has ever done right.

You return to the Yeagers before dark, early enough to help Mrs. Yeager start with dinner. Dr. Yeager is apologetic as always, but you’re able to change the subject by serving the blueberry pie from the Galliards for a mid-meal dessert of sorts, and the dinner table relaxes soon after. Zeke is absent - he still hasn’t come home from work - so you make sure to leave some for him. This time, Mrs. Yeager allows you to take over cleanup, and the couple retires to their bedroom once the conversation fades into a comfortable silence.

You hope to meet Zeke right as he arrives, corner him into talking to you somehow unless he decides to miss dinner himself, but after half an hour of sitting at the dinner table, cleaning anything you might have missed in the kitchen and the dining room, and rearranging anything out of place in the living room, it starts to look like he won’t be coming anytime soon.

That’s fine, you tell yourself. You feel slimy from being out in the sun all afternoon anyway, and you treat yourself to a relaxing bath. Zeke is still away when you return to your room, and the calming warmth of your evening has you yawning. You have no choice but to change into your pajamas.

In truth, you’re a little relieved. Not that you’re particularly answerable to Pieck anyway, at least not until she finishes training with the Panzer Unit, but it won’t be your fault that you and Zeke weren’t able to talk tonight. But just to feel as though you’ve tried your very best, you keep yourself up by starting to write to Lara—and then regret your principle when you hear heavy footsteps outside and a soft click of the door across yours.

The word you’re writing skitters off to the edge of the paper in your surprise. Your heartbeat invades the tense silence of your room, but you manage to take a deep breath, folding your unfinished letter and slipping it under the paperweight on your desk.

Your door is your next obstacle.

Overlapping images of how Zeke will surely reject you race through your mind alongside the words you wish you could say, and you’re able to keep up with about... none of them. You thought that the words would come to you, and maybe they will, but the moment is about to come and you can’t think of a single word to say.

If you have time to worry, you have time to just get over there and do it, you tell yourself. You shake your head, regretting your own harshness, but also nod as you hastily gulp down the glass of water on your bedside table. Those words in mind, you move, switching one door for another. No longer standing nose-to-panel with your bedroom door, you’re doing it with Zeke’s in the hallway instead.

Hand raised to knock, you eye the light peeking out from the gap beneath the door. Knock. Just knock. The worst he can do is turn you away, and you’ll probably want to wriggle under the dirt and cry, but you’ll at least have tried. You owe it to him to try, like you did with Pieck, and you know you’re braver than this. Or you were, once upon a time.

If you’re still the same girl from years ago, you don’t get to find out just yet.

You hear his footsteps coming from the bathroom too late. No, it’s the heat of another and the familiar scent of his soap which alert you to his presence.

That and his voice, still too deep for the older boy you remember. “Aren’t you a little too old to still be knocking on my door at night?”

“Zeke,” you say, trying to pull your heart down from your throat before you turn and meet his flat expression. He’s in pajamas himself, his hair damp. You must not have heard him head for the bathroom you share down the hall. “Hi.”

That’s more than your mind could summon a while ago, but you still want to smack yourself.

His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath. His jaw shifts even as his pale eyes stare down at you in the dim light, as if deciding what to do with you... and then he sighs. He’s too tired to be glib tonight. “Can I help you, Lucy?”

Your lips purse with trepidation, but you stand your ground. “Can we talk?”

He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Looking down at you is clearly work. “I’m listening.”

You hesitate, trying not to make another face. It seems to come naturally with Zeke around, but you resist the urge, and instead tilt your head to the side. There is no light coming from the master bedroom down the length of the hallway. When you glance back up at Zeke, you give him a pointed look.

Zeke sighs again, and then… decides to just brush past you to grab his doorknob.

Your stomach twists with both disappointment and pique. “Zeke,” you whisper furiously, barely just stomping your foot.

He whips his head to face you, halfway inside already. “What?” he whispers back, like you’re nagging him. Then he rolls his eyes, swinging his door wide open and backing into it to give you room.

“Get in.”

Sorry for the dearth of Zeke moments this chapter, but the next one will mooostly feature him and yes we'll finally find out why Zeke is upset. I used to write very long chapters with fics, but that really exhausted me so I'm trying to write shorter now to keep myself from burning out. But I'm enjoying writing in 2nd person! I never used to do it because it was frowned upon long ago, and possibly still is now? But idc anymore it's fun to try.

Thank you for reading!

#zeke x reader #zeke x oc #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x oc #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger x oc #aot #snk #aot fic #aot fanfic #haliyam #interim #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #snk fanfic

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closer-stars · 4 years

Text

Good Thing - Mingi (1)

Member: Mingi Genre: A lil of drama, tension, fluff, maybe angst depending on how you look at it. Requested: Yes Word count: 8k Content: Dance team leader y/n. Basketball captain Mingi. Both of them are stubborn. Enemies to Lovers. Mentions of food. Mentions of near fainting. Mentions of tension. Academics. Slowburn. Notes: after a long creative block, I’m back once again with long fics. Divided this into two? three? parts. This was supposed to be short, what the fuck. Anyways, I hope this fits your expectations, anon! Please I didn’t expect this to be so long, but here we are. I was already itching to post something after so long so here we are.

[ Mountain ] Capt, the venue’s already taken. :(((

That wasn’t a good sign. You were in class when you received that message from your best friend. It was a good thing your professor allowed gadgets as long as it was used for note taking. In true student fashion, you lower your brightness just a bit as you switch tabs to reply to San.

[ You ] Look for the next best. I trust your decision. I can’t stay too long, prof might catch me not paying attention.

You close the tab quickly and catch up on what your professor discusses. Fingers fly across your keyboard as you continue to add additional connections and theories that aid in the discussion. Your best friend and your second co-captain, Wooyoung, was slightly struggling with keeping up with the note keeping, you were already sure that he would ask you for help.

[ Mountain ] Don’t kill me, Please. :c

That didn’t sound good.

[ Mountain ] 6-9pm. Court 2.

That is definitely not good. Before you could reply, the bell rings and a chorus of laptops closing, notebooks closing could be heard in the room. Your professor quickly reminds the class of an exam the following week along with other reminders that just fly through your ears.

“Did you catch what he said about brand identity?” Wooyoung asks as the two of you leave the classroom with heavy feet. Your coach had thought it was a good idea to have all of you go through house drills for the first half of the training last night. Fast forward to today, you and Wooyoung were struggling with walking. Even with just simple walking, Wooyoung would make pained whines.

“I got them. I’ll send you my notes when we get a seat somewhere. I want my coffee while I massage your old muscles.” The both of you found a good shady spot where you could discuss what to do in tonight’s training session as your coach had personal issues to deal with. “Can you message the team where our training’s going to be tonight? San said it’s at Court 2, 6 to 9 PM”

“Heh, six to nine and okay.”

“How mature of you. I’ll be back.” You (try to) jog to the vending machine as you get yourself a quick dose of caffeine. By the time you get back, taking small sips of the caffeinated bean water, Wooyoung stares at you as if he had realized something. “What?” You ask as you settle down next to him.

“Court 2? That’s the only available one left for tomorrow?” He asks.

You shrug. “It’s either we get free venues or we pay a meal’s worth for studio rentals.” You reason as you send your notes to the male. As a student-dancer, you knew how hard it was to get studios and have it come straight from your own pocket. The competition was three months away and you didn’t want the team’s finances to run dry this early.

“Can you at least try not to bite off Mingi’s head?” Wooyoung pleads, almost pouting.

Song Mingi is the team captain for your university’s basketball team. That said, he’s also often the face of the school due to his grades and being captain of the team. He also often got in your nerves whenever you cross roads. You’re also fairly popular in and out of school: captain of the dance team, often competing in outside school competitions, and even being featured in some big time gigs. The gigs paid the most for your bills.

You pat your lap so that he stretches his legs from the muscle pain. Careful fingers press on his muscles, causing him to yelp in pain. “Breathe, you baby. I’ll try my best.” You snort, clearly entertained by how low his pain tolerance can be outside dancing. “Tell San we’re in the usual spot if he wants to--”

“Ello!!”

Speak of the devil and he will appear. Your co-captain and best friend as well has appeared a few feet away. “Captain!” He calls out, once he could see your face. Him noticing Wooyoung first then you wasn’t a surprise anymore. These two often plot pranks on you during down time since your second year in the team, this was old news to you by now. “Captain, I’m really sorry. Court 2 was the only one available. The other team already got our first choice and-” he goes off, rapidly defending himself.

“San, it’s okay. I know how annoying that team is. Let’s just do our best tonight so we can take over the studio for finals okay?” You shake your head, understanding the issue. The dance competition had your own team versus other dance teams inside and outside the university. It was a big event that tickets to watch were always sold out.

“Please. I don’t think I can handle you snarking Mingi off when he tries to drop by.” San mumbles.

The thing is, Mingi and you had a handful of common friends. The expectation of his course, Business Administration, being more difficult than yours, a Media Arts student. His tendency to be just as stubborn and strict as you are in your respective fields made it hard for both of you to see eye to eye.

“I don’t think I’m ready to see their bitch face anywhere outside the stage.” Wooyoung mentions lightly. It was an obvious fear though. The amount of auditionees for your team each year was pretty hefty, the reason? Your friends had pretty faces. To put it simply, your resting bitch face is scary even if unintentional but an intentional one had a lot of people staying clear of you. To whom do you give the intentional one? Shallow auditionees and Song Mingi.

By the time you’ve eased the knots on Wooyoung’s leg, you’ve finished your coffee. “Guys, I promise I won’t fight him tonight.” You say with a sigh.

San just looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

You pout at him. “I promise! Besides tonight’s cleaning and drills. If I get distracted by that demon, give me the spiderman reps.” Wooyoung places his other leg on your lap, a cheeky grin on his features. A look of empty annoyance shoots from your eyes at him but you still do as he needs. Your two best friends give in with groans. It’s next to impossible to reason with you sometimes. It’s also your stubbornness that brought the team to the current greatness it had.

“Three sets of spiderman reps. After training.”

The bell rings, signaling your next class which was quite unfortunately, with the two of them still. San rises from his seat, your bag and laptop already in his hands as he waits for the both of you.

“Last class for the day.” He states as you take your belongings from him.

It’s going to be a long day for the three of you.

“Five minute break” The entire team’s breathless from the drills. Some of them walked off the burn, others drinking water, others opted to lie on the cool tiled floor. You were part of the first group. You bend your back a little to get rid of the soreness that was starting to wear on you. The burn on your arms and shoulders is already a familiar feeling to you but you still hate it. At least it means your body was getting stronger, if the burn only started to set in now. When you reach for your water bottle, you realize that it was already empty. “Fuck..” You groan as you look for a water refilling station.

The nearest one was near the basketball team’s court.

Whatever.

You make your way to the station, making sure that you would go unnoticed by the basketball team as they did their drills. So far, so good. No one paid attention to you as you fill your bottle up with water. That was until Jeong Yunho had noticed you.

“Hey! Are you training here too?” His warmth made it hard for you to despise him even if he was best friends with Mingi. Why couldn’t he be the captain instead?

Eyes shoot up and you’re greeted by his pink hair. You wave at him quickly then take a sip of water. “Hey Yunho! Yeah, Is the music too loud?”

He shakes his head, a few strands of hair covering his view. He pushes it back and it was there when you realize just why he had a large following. “Don’t worry about it. The guys appreciate a little music every now and then.” A sigh of relief slips through your lips. At least the volume isn’t too destructive for everyone. Why wasn’t he the captain instead?

“I have to go now. Good luck with your practice!” You bid goodbye quickly, your Mingi radar was going off.

Yes, you had a Mingi radar in your head.

When you turn on your heel, you are greeted by his stoic features. Even without words, the tension was pretty thick in the air. “Anyways,” you mumble onto your bottle as you try to walk past him.

“If you’re going to train in here too, being conscious of your noise would be helpful.” Mingi’s voice drips with deep annoyance towards you. You on the other hand, are trying your best not to do spiderman push ups so you just hum in response.

“When I talk to you, you speak.” He says, rubbing his temple in annoyance. It was moments like this that genuinely make you wonder how he is the face of the school when his attitude was absolute horse shit.

“Noted with thanks, Song Mingi.” You say simply. Yunho looks at the both of you in mild alarm. He was aware of your less than stellar relationship with his captain but he never saw how bad it was until today. Is it easy to keep your face from shooting lasers at the tall male? No but you were going to do your best. The two of you exchange steely gazes until both of you look away, stalking back to where your team was.

“What took you so long?” Wooyoung asks as he watches the rest of the team clean the choreography, with San leading at the back.

“Mingi tried to stall me.” You explain under your breath as you take your spot next to Wooyoung as your eyes keep an eye on their movements. With those who have been accepted, you weren’t as intimidating as you make yourself to be. You wouldn’t admit it openly, you viewed them as your family. You weren’t strict all the time, knowing when to have an iron fist and when to relax. Thoughts were drifting elsewhere that you found yourself gnawing mindlessly on your own water bottle as you watched everyone go through the choreography. Two blinks and you’re focused again. To the untrained eye, it already looked pretty good but to the three of you, you knew it could be better. The team holds the last post for a few counts before doubling over for air. “Catch your breath first then from the top. Seventy five percent energy but I want you guys to focus on your angles and extensions.” You state, much to the relief of some.

“Does this mean you’re going to have to do spiderman reps?” Wooyoung asks, trying his best to not show his excited smile at seeing you struggle. Little shit.

“If you’re looking forward to it so much, do it instead.” You shoot back with a smirk. You direct him to join the team in dancing with a quick jerk of your head to their direction. “Join the run. I want to see how you’ve been doing as well.” You stand up. “San! Join the team in the run. I want to see how the two do as well.”

That’s how the rest of the night goes: repeated countings, claps, and feet stomping to the beat, with the occasional cheering from members to keep the energy up. Before you let everyone go for the day, you asked for one more run of the piece to record. The only issue now is who to ask to hold your phone because all possible places for your phone were either too low or too dangerously high to be on its own.

You spot Yunho coming out of the basketball court with his bags. His training must have ended. “Jeong Yunho!” Your voice manages to surprise everyone with the volume. Who knew you could bellow at such strength? The tall male’s startled by your voice and walks over to you.

“I didn’t know you could yell that loud. Do you need help with something?” He notes bemused at such a feat.

“Training can do that. Can you record our run for us, please?” You raise your phone up, hoping he says yes. Everyone’s tired and so are you. His hand is outstretched and it makes you sigh in relief. “You’re the best.” You say. “Start recording when I press play.” The tall male gives you the okay signal as he raises the phone’s angle to make sure everyone’s seen in the screen. Bless his soul. He does as you told him. The run goes without a hitch, by now everyone knows to give their all in the last run to which they do. As your team dances, you notice a familiar brown mop of hair in the peripheral vision. ‘Focus.’ You force yourself to do so as you do your segment, all while cheering for the others who were starting to lose breath. He stands next to Yunho, watching your entire team dance. A small part of you hopes that he’s watching the team as a whole. Once the run was over, a few of the members drop their sore bodies to the floor, relishing the cool feeling of the cement. You dismiss the team, telling them to cool down and stretch on their own as it was late. You walk over to the angel and the demon, both with different emotions displayed on their features. “How was it?”

Yunho hands your phone back and flashes two thumbs up. “That was really cool! You guys really keep with your team’s legacy.”

Those words make you smile through the exhaustion that has set on your features. “Thank you, you probably have to go now since it’s late. Thanks again for helping us!” You wave him goodbye, doing your best to not look at the demon next to him that stares you down. Just as you were about to leave them be, he speaks up.

“You looked tired the entire time.” Mingi says with a shrug. “Gotta be an example to your members, y’know?”

Without looking back at the two males, you heave a sigh. You were tired and the stress for your team and academics was setting in. “Song Mingi, I really am in no mood to deal with your lack of a filter. Please just leave already.” Before you could stop yourself, you find yourself looking over the male. “You call yourself the captain when you’re here throwing unneeded comments. Please do reflect first on yourself before trying to fight me.” You say with a roll of your eyes as you take the chance to leave.

You don’t see Yunho drag Mingi away before he could say anything. You do see Mingi greet some members of your team and your two best friends as if he didn’t just try to rile you up. You also do see Wooyoung and San’s concern for you. “Don’t do the spiderman reps today. Just do it tomorrow.” Wooyoung immediately pipes up. He knows how you get when you’re angry, the last time you tried to do something out of spite, you sprained your wrist.

“Let’s just go grab some late dinner. I need food.” Your voice comes out breathier than usual. Too exhausted to bother keeping up a front as you wipe your sweat with the collar of your shirt..

The three of you were seated in a fast food chain, dietary plans be damned. You needed something filling and if it was going to be through nuggets, a burger and a big cup of iced coffee then so be it. You had your head in your hands. The two had taken cared of your order, both of them returning to your table with trays full of food and drinks.

“This is just so shitty..” you mumble, staring at your nuggets. “I have to deal with the mess the alumni left the team with. I mean, I don’t mind covering the expenses from the gigs I’ve done but it’s not going to be enough. Not being in a studio is already so..” you couldn’t continue your thoughts so you shove the entire nugget into your mouth.

“Don’t beat yourself up. You’re doing everything you can for the team.” San reminds you while he eats his burger. How he manages to fit what looked like a double decker in his mouth was still a mystery to you.

“The team already knows of the issue since day 1 and they know you’re doing everything you can.” Wooyoung adds gently. He hated seeing you be so tough on yourself.

Both of them were right but it doesn’t stop you from beating yourself up for having to do your best with tied hands. This isn’t a choreography where you could still move as freely even if you had your hands tied. This is real life with no practice.

“I know you’re still annoyed at Mingi’s comments but come on, he doesn’t dance. So don’t pay attention to him.” San reminds you, already halfway with his burger. Boys with their almost insatiable appetites without gaining that much weight is something.

You take a deep breath, pushing the strands of hair that cling to your face as you pull yourself together again. If you were going to cry, it wasn’t going to be here. “Fuck it. I’ll enjoy these nuggets. San, where are we training tomorrow?”

“Studio. Yeosang got us a discount.”

“Perfect. Also, make sure he stays in the team once I graduate. His strengths could be so good for house segments also that discount trick he has.”

“Don’t talk about leaving us yet!!” The two of them cry out at the same time, and by chance they harmonize.

“Don’t leave the dance team for the choir. Both of you are taking over my position.” You shoot back with laughter.

The next training comes and it’s a lot more peaceful for your head. Your coach was back teaching another segment for the entire time. Whenever your coach was around, you cut back on your jokes and made sure that everyone didn’t go too out of line with their ways to keep the morale up. The training session leaves everyone much more exhausted as compared to yesterday.

“Good job guys, you guys did a lot better compared to the last time I saw you. Let’s go for gold.” Your coach says as the three of you, along with Yeosang manage the payments. It’s that type of comments that make this entire competition season worth it. Once all the payments were settled, everyone was slowly going on their own separate ways to deal with their own requirements. Wooyoung and San were going to head to a computer shop to play for a game or two, how long that would be was unknown. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Don’t be late for our history class… Please.” You stated, knowing just how your professor was strict with attendance and tardiness.

San whines at you. “We won’t! We promise.”

Wooyoung interjects, “Call him an hour earlier, you know how he is in the mornings.”

You shake your head at their antics and wave them off. “Fine, see you guys.” You readjust your bag as you slowly make your back to your dorm. A long shower and a hearty meal were needed before you could focus on your papers. After you freshen up, you pick up your laptop and other essentials as you make your way to your usual coffee shop.

The staff in the coffee shop already knew you. The amount of late nights you spent here to catch up on your studies to the point where they have to tell you to leave as they were closing was innumerable. They also know your current situation just based on your orders. If your order of coffee is stronger than usual, you were most likely stressed. If you had a meal with your drink, you were going to be forcing yourself to finish your requirements.

You ordered a macchiato with an extra espresso shot and a sandwich.

By the time your orders came in, you were taking down notes from the reading on your screen. You thank the staff for bringing your order to you, probably having missed them calling your name from the adrenaline in your body to get all of these finished. It’s only when you look up that you catch sight of two familiar faces that were ordering. An exhale and you reach for your earphones. Once you find them you plug them into your laptop, going back to work.

An elbow jabs his side, and he pulls out his earphones, looking at Yunho with a miffed expression. “What? Yunho, there’s barely any free table here. Let’s just get our orders and leave.” Mingi grumbles. The spare tables were outside but that also meant being in the company of smokers. Yunho pays no heed to his best friend’s complaints and gestures to the table next to yours.

“That one’s free.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m just pointing it out! Besides, air con.” Yunho also adds with a grin. Since last year, his rivalry with you had become a little blurry. He doesn’t remember what the two of you constantly fought about at this point but he clearly knows he can’t stand your presence. His best friend on the other hand, wanted to change that before all of you go on your own lives.

The air con point was a strong one to fight against. Instead of fighting against it, he just grumbles and lets Yunho do as he wishes. At least if a fight breaks out between the two of you, he could point it at Yunho. The logical part of his head also reasons that if a fight breaks out, his reputation along with the school’s would be destroyed. He couldn’t win.

He waits for their orders off to the side, prolonging the inevitable of having to sit near you. Once their orders have arrived, he and Yunho carry them towards where you are.

A hand appears at your peripherals and you look at the owner. The recognition taking a while to set in. The dazed look in your eyes after being disturbed was a little amusing in his perspective.

“Hey, sorry for disturbing. Is this table free?” He asks with an apologetic smile.

Your eyes scan the entire coffee shop for possible places for them to stay just so they don’t disturb you. All tables were taken. “Uh yeah sure, go ahead.” With that, the two boys sit next to your table as you go back to your work.

Thankfully, the boys leave you be as you continue to write and read. When you let own a yawn, you knew you had to give yourself a bit of a break. You pull out your earphones as you start eating again to give your brain a break. You look at your list of things to do and a little bit of relief sets in when you manage to finish a good portion of what can be finished tonight.

“About time you ate.”

That was enough to cause you to choke on your coffee. You look at the source of the voice and it was Yunho, who was obviously amused with your reaction.

“Did I scare you?”

“You’re still here?!” You ask incredulous, when you shift your gaze to your front, you were greeted with the devil. Mingi obviously looks like the reading material isn’t much of an interest, not that you could blame him. A small tinge of sympathy sets in you when you realize his notebook was filled with calculations. Yuck.

Yunho tilts his head in confusion then nods. “Yeah, we have an exam coming up.” The male peeks over his laptop to see that Mingi was on a different topic. “I thought you were studying for history.”

“Marketing had more things for me to deal with.” The other states in a flat voice as he continues to spin his pen.

That’s when you notice that there were some eyes on your table, to be specific, on Mingi. It made you a little thankful that you weren’t as out there in the public as he was. It didn’t change the fact that you feel a little bad for the both of them. “Is this under Professor Hwang?” You ask as you catch sight of a familiar reading on Yunho’s laptop.

“Yeah! Did you take it already?” This causes both pairs of eyes to land on you.

“I took it earlier today. Do you guys need help?”

That was enough to make Mingi lean a little forward, for Yunho to look a little more awake. “Are you sure? You’ve been working hard with your own thing.” Yunho reasons carefully. Your to-do list reaches your view again and you take a moment to gauge how good you can juggle your work and theirs. As much as you despised Mingi, Professor Hwang’s anger was something you’d rather everyone avoids.

“When’s your exam?” By now, your gaze has shifted to your laptop screen as you try to look at your schedule.

“Friday..”

“Give me your schedules.” You say, giving Yunho your contact details. “Both of your schedules. I’m already thinking of how to squeeze you into my schedule.” The two boys look at each other in surprise but they give you their schedules, your tone left no room for any opposition. No wonder you were the captain. No wonder people are intimidated by you. Mingi found it impressive.

“I’ll message Yunho when and where to meet me. We can’t meet during the day, tell me immediately. If both of you want a study session after our respective trainings that work too. Just keep in contact with me with any update.” It wasn’t a request. It’s an order.

You didn’t even notice that Mingi had pulled his hoodie down to look at you properly. Your attention was too focused on what Yunho was talking about regarding the coverage. None of you really intended to do so but you eventually were giving them tips on how to study for her exam, and they promise-- well more of Yunho promises to make it up to you after.

“Excuse me, We’re about to close up for the day.” the staff informs gently as he goes to the next table that still had people poring over their books.

With that, the three of you pack up your things. You finish the rest of your coffee. 3AM. You have 5 hours of sleep left to last through the day. “I’ll see you both depending on your schedules.” It was a reminder for Yunho to send their schedules and he does immediately. You bid them goodbye, as you leave the coffee shop on your way back to your dorm.

“So they put away their rivalry with you, Mingi.” Yunho notes with a glance at the male who put his hood up once more. He hums in response. To others, he might as well have ignored his best friend for the comfort of his own thoughts. Yunho knows better. Mingi just wasn’t the type of guy who openly admits his thoughts.

“If we’re studying with them later, can we choose a spot where no one’s looking at us.” He mumbles. Yunho felt for the guy. He didn’t want the role of captain, wanting to just play basketball with a team. Yet being the captain also meant that he would eventually become the face of the university and potential love calls from potential sponsors. The poor guy could barely focus on his studies without having strangers oogle at him when he was outside university grounds.

“Will tell them.” Yunho returns as the two make their way to their own apartment.

You reach your room after freshening up. 3:15AM. You were definitely going to need a strong cup of coffee throughout the day. A reminder to call San when you wake up was prepared. With that, your sleep was swift.

The cursed wind chime alarm jolts you out of your slumber. 8AM. A curse elongated by a dry groan escapes your lips. As you wash your face, you call San’s phone. “Pick up the phone, you sleepy butt.” You mutter as you prepare for your day.

He finally answers the phone though with a whine that pleads for more sleep.

“Get up. We can’t be late for class.”

His whines could’ve been mistaken for cries but you hear the sheets ruffle under his movements.

“I’ll buy you a donut, San. Just please get up and get ready for class.” The things you do for your friends.

“I’m up, I’m up. Can you get the birthday cake version please?”

“I’ll buy it after class, so you better show up.” You hang up just in time for a message to come in.

[ Yunho ] we’re free at 2-4 pm and 10-2am later!

[ You ] I can help 2:30-4 meet me by the benches near the chemistry department.

The class goes by painfully slow but you give San the money for the donut. Before he could complain that he wanted you to buy it for him, you quickly cut to the chase. “I just need to help someone with their studies until 4. See you guys later.”

You arrive at the benches with a sandwich in your free hand. No sign of the two boys yet, so you choose a bench away from prying eyes but visible enough for the two to see you. With some time to spare still, you take a few bites of your sandwich as you look through the notes as a refresher. The shuffling of feet against the pebbles and grass catch your attention. Did you expect Mingi to come first? Maybe this exam really meant a lot for him.

“Yunho’s following shortly. He just had to use the restroom.” He explains when he notices your wandering eyes. That shuts you up as you give him a polite nod, letting him settle on the bench opposite you.

“I think you forgot something.”

When did he strike conversations with you? He hands you your earphones then rubs the back of his neck.

“You left before Yunho or I could catch you.”

Your jaw drops slightly at the sight of your favorite earphones. How could this have slipped your mind? This pair was your favorite and your most used due to your activities. “Oh my god. Thank you for taking care of it.” There was no hint of underlying annoyance in your voice as you kept them in your pocket.

Just then, Yunho jogs towards where the two of you are, sitting next to you. “Sorry to make you wait!” Mingi lets out an exasperated sigh, as he brings out his notes.

“It’s fine. Let’s get started now cause I don’t think we’ll have any strength to study later.”

That’s how the ninety minutes go by. Quizzing the two guys on certain topics while giving them tips on how to do well for the exam. It’s not in you to spoon feed them the answers, and even if you did, the exam was half multiple choice and half essay. With every right answer they gave, you would smile brightly and nod. The smile seems a lot brighter around Yunho, when it came to Mingi your smile was a mix of pride and surprise. Not that you thought Mingi slacks off on his studies, he just seems like the type to not pay attention to things that don’t interest him.

Mingi also notices how you seem to open up when things go smoothly. Almost the entire time, your eyes were on Yunho as he carried the conversation with questions and clarifications over the topic. When he hears his question on the connection of the uprising to succeeding events, he pipes up.

“Wait, Yunho. That’s not part of the coverage, also, a totally different event.. You confused it with the other one.” Mingi explains, brows slightly scrunched as he explains the event to the best that he can from memory.

You look at him with an impressed smirk. He definitely had brain cells that give him the credit that he deserves. You gesture to him as you shift your gaze back to Yunho. “There’s your answer.”

Just like that, the bell rings, telling all students that the ninety minutes is over. The broody male is the first to pack his things up, thanking you under his breath. The pink haired male on the other hand, thanks you profusely and waves goodbye to you as they head to their last class.

You don’t realize the breath you were holding until they left, eyes drop to the earphones that Mingi had returned to you. It’s a nice change you suppose, as compared to all the daggers you’ve thrown at each other.

Today’s training was held in the same place. Court 2. You could hear the basketballs bouncing against the court floor along with the squeaks of rubber shoes against the floor. If you listened carely, you could hear Mingi cheering for the other members as they continued with their drills. You had your own drills too. This drill being new choreography. The team was picking up the new choreography faster as compared to the past. Those who weren’t part of the segment your coach was teaching were off to the side, cleaning what they know. San and you were part of the group that was learning the new segment. Both of you being the centers. The choreography is admittedly trickier. You didn’t think you’d be doing krumping next to San but here you are. Your group goes through it over and over as your coach directs on how and where to execute the movements. Occasionally, your coach would ask some of you to try a stunt or trick. He wants the gold as much as the entire team and it sometimes reaches the point where he forgets he’s leading student-dancers.

Your group was gasping for breath afterwards that you had to remind your coach to check on the others and teach the other segments that need to be taught. It worked and it gave your group some more time to breath and rehydrate themselves. Only five weeks left. Ideally, after this week would be intensive cleaning and minor editing. Everyone already had the mix but your coach constantly would try to change little things. Were you worried that this would be rushed and cost the team a place in the top three? Definitely. Being an overthinker and having a coach who was just as bad, if not worse wasn’t helpful. You thanked Wooyoung and San for reminding him of the logistics and reality of things.

The next few hours go quickly and everyone is admittedly, surprised and relieved that they finished the piece. San gives you a quick massage to relax your nerves as your coach asks the team to do the entire piece, cleanliness not really being something he’d look into for now. The entire number goes by with a few road bumps, none of which he seems to mind. At least he had mercy after being reminded, and by the last run, everyone lets themselves crumple to the ground. Training was officially done for the day. Everyone pays their share for the coach for the day then leaves. Wooyoung and San help you gather the payments then leave quickly, both having to cram papers that were due in two hours.

This leaves you and your coach alone.

“When is the team going to pay? I need the money too.” You knew where he was coming from. His family had some health issues that had to be dealt with, it was why he didn’t come the other day. You’ve been pestering the team the past few days in the chat for their share, some of them always pushing it back. Your body wanted nothing but to eat something then sleep. Even if you had your gigs as a source of income, it was enough to get you by. With how your coach urgently needed the money and how you couldn’t think clearly, you caved. You ask for his bank account details and right there, you transfer the money to his account from yours. You put the phone screen to his eye level to show the proof of transfer.

“There.” You say, waiting for him to notice the proof before packing up your things. He nods and you try to keep a note to raise your talent fee in order to make ends meet. He thanks you for the payment and as he was about to discuss another matter regarding the team, he gets a call which you assume is from his family.

“I have to go. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

You nod, bidding him goodbye before packing up your things. Holy fuck you were hungry and stressed. Studies, dance and now money? Of all times it had to be when it was near hell week? You want to cry.

“What are you doing here? It’s late.” Mingi asks, his tone clearly not helping you in your current predicament.

“What, I can’t stay here now? Is this your territory, Song Mingi?” A groan slips from your lips, but at this point it just sounds like a growl. “I can’t let myself catch my breath here?” You spit out. For once, his eyes widen at your venom.

“I’m asking because it’s already midnight. You know how the streets outside can be a little dangerous at this hour.” He’s exasperated. A small part of him can’t get himself to be his usual self around you after having helped him in his studies.

You immediately stand up from your spot, about to give him a piece of your hazy mind. Only, when you stand up, you feel the blood suddenly rush and your head spins for a moment. You lose your balance in that moment and the man knows better than to say anything that could make this worse.

Maybe it was because of his long limbs that you’ve come to be envious of, or his quick reflexes from his basketball history, regardless he manages to hold you up before you crumple to the ground. His finger gently pulls your lower eyelid down to peek at the color of your eyes. Pale pink. You need to eat and drink something fast.

“You need to eat.” He states, holding your bag with his free hand as he tries to keep you up.

You knew that you weren’t really fine but you still had some sort of want for self preservation that you let out a weak lie. “I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t.” The chances of you putting up a fight were low so you let him guide you to the nearest food chain.

It was the same fast food chain you go to with Wooyoung and San every post training. You couldn’t get yourself to look at the menu, the smell of meat, fried strips of potato and grease were overwhelming you. The bright lights made you want to shut your eyes. He notices this and brings you first to a booth far from the noise of people. “Stay here.” He doesn’t know why he said that, you were in no position to go anywhere else as you bury your features in your arms. He crouches down to your hunched level. “Do you want anything in particular?” You shake your head weakly. “I’ll buy you something okay?” You just nod. No strength in you to say that you didn’t want him to pay for you, that you were broke, that you just wanted to go home and sleep.

The time he was off buying your meal, you were floating in and out of consciousness. You reach for your water bottle, to finish what was left before the food came. All that was left were two mouthfuls of water which you suppose could stave off the hunger pains. As you wait for Mingi, you fish your phone out from your bag as you message the team to remind them of their unpaid dues. Your next gig wasn’t going to be until after this competition. Could you juggle a gig within the next five weeks while dealing with your student duties? Probably not but it is being considered.

Mingi arrives shortly with a tray full of food for you and him. “I owe you.” You mumble as you straighten up at the sight of food. He shakes his head as he hands you a double burger, orange juice, and ice cream. For him, a burger, nuggets, ice cream and coke.

“You need this. Call it even, you’re helping me with my exam.”

You stare at him for a moment then look at the meal. You were hungry and you couldn’t stop yourself from digging in anymore. The size of the burger makes it a little tricky for you to take big bites, forcing you to take small bites slowly. All of which was Mingi’s plan. After seeing how pale and weak you were, having you eat quickly all of a sudden wasn’t going to be good for you.

“H-hey, is everything okay?” Mingi asks, alarmed as he hands you some tissue to wipe your cheeks with. “You’re crying.”

The pad of your thumb brushes against your cheek and you could feel the wetness of your thumb. You take the tissue from his hands as you wipe your eyes. “I guess it’s the stress.” You mumble. It still hasn’t set in that you’ve reached your limit and you’re just wiping away the tears as they come.

“Wanna talk about it?” He offers. For tonight, he puts aside the sour relationship he has with you.

So you do. Through the tears and food, you share what’s been causing you distress. The internal issues of your team thanks to the alumni’s mishandling of the finances. The financial issues of having to cover some of those issues with your own money. Your academic workload. The pressure of being a captain when you feel like you just became one because there was nobody else willing to take on the role. Along the way, you ended up admitting your jealousy towards Mingi: how the school tends to favor the basketball team as compared to the arts and dance teams, how he’s doing so well as a captain, how finances is the least of his worries for the team.

That takes him by surprise. The entire time he’s been giving you hell, you’ve been going through your own hell. The idea of internal financial issues never crossed his mind, though that was mostly due to the fact the school covers the expenses for travel and what not. Along with the sponsorships his team receives from sports brands. While he was so caught up in his own jealousy towards you, he didn’t realize that you had your plate just as filled as his, if not heavier. He says nothing, opting to eat his food as you unload everything you’ve kept from everyone. It was obvious from how affected you were, just how passionate you are for this field and to be disregarded, disrespected and be the one to clean up after the mess would clearly take a toll on anyone. He watches you carefully, you’ve stopped crying but your eyes were puffy. It takes a while before you take a deep breath and that was a sign you finished with your tirade.

“Are you open for my own thoughts or is it better if I just listen?” He finally asks after finishing his burger.

You let him take the floor this time as you continue eating your burger.

Here, he admits his wrong doings to you. Just as you were jealous, so was he. Jealous of how you could keep a low profile despite having performed in front of so many people over the years. How he thought you were doing well in juggling your academics with your workload. How you could manage a team as the sole captain, even if Wooyoung and San were your co-captains. He also admits how he thought your team was doing well in terms of finances considering the clothes you have for the performances. Along the way, he apologizes for having added to your hardships. “If you guys need help with financial stuff, just tell me.” Maybe the words passing around of how rich his family was true.

You stare at the male, your drink halfway to your mouth. That was enough to make him backtrack his words. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.” Instead of saying anything that could worsen the situation, he just opts to eat the rest of his food in silence.

For the first time that night, you chuckle at his actions. Fingers brush through your hair as you push away the strands that block your vision. “I’ll think about the offer. Thank you though for it.”

For the first time, he actually shoots you a genuine smile. He walks you back to your dorm, not minding to carry some of your things. It was a quiet walk, not that any of you minded, at least this silence was comfortable as compared to the tensed ones of the past.

Once you reach your place, you take your bags from him. “Don’t forget tomorrow okay?”

He stares at you, confused at what prompted you to say such. A few seconds pass and it clicks. “Ah! Yeah, we’ll be there, same place?”

You nod as you unlock your door. “Get some sleep Mingi. It’s been a long night.” You bid him a good night with another smile before retreating into the safety of your abode.

The male realized that your smiles seem to make him feel odd emotions.

The following day goes by quickly. You manage to do alright in your exams and presentations-- though a good portion of your presentation being candid. You go through your usual routine of buying your lunch as you wait for the two in the same spot.

You didn’t expect Mingi to call your name out, especially in disbelief. Yunho following him shortly. “What’s the occasion?” Yunho asks as he eyes your business formal attire. You look down at yourself and you realize that they are probably more accustomed to your casual wear and training clothes.

“Oh, presentations. Some of my professors are particular about the attire so…” you trail off with a shrug. “Anyways, let’s get started before you need to go to your next class.”

You twist your questions a little more this time, testing their memory and understanding of the events. They manage to answer your questions with ease, even going as far as connecting the events to events that happen after. Your heart swells with pride and confidence. If they pass the exam, they were going to do so with flying colors.

The bell rings and it’s the same old once more. “That concludes our last session. You’ll do great tomorrow.” You say as you give them a standing ovation. Yunho was the first one to react.

“Whaaat, it’s that fast?” He whines with a pout. With your attention sole on the faded pink male, you don’t catch Mingi’s mixed expression. Just when the two of you were getting along, both of you were going back to your own lives. “We won’t see you anymore?” He asks, almost like a child whose lollipop was taken from them.

“Boys, you got class. You’re going to be late!” So you shoo them off. Mingi nods and stalks away, Yunho waving to you as he jogs after Mingi.

“You think we’ll do okay tomorrow?”

“We’ve been studying for this more than needed. We better, man.”

You watch them jog towards their next class until San notifies the group chat of their venue for the upcoming days.

[ Mountain ] Hey everyone! We’re using the studio for the remaining weeks starting today! ^^

[ Welsh Corgi ] fries are on us every pre-training so be there early!

[ You ] *only on wooyoung and san :p

Who knew that today was going to be the last day you’d see Mingi and Yunho?

Part 2

#ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mingi fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi angst #ateez x reader #song mingi #mingi #my writings #unedited ish #will edit it when i wake up #i only got 18% on my laptop #i was already itching to post something so here we are #anyways i'm kind of 75% done with part 2

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ladyzayinwonderland · 3 years

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Hiya Zay! So I noticed you posted about a Hadestown crossover and I wanted to ask you what you love about the musical! Favorite song? Favorite quality? What about the story/songs/costumes/characters/choreography/atmosphere/etc evokes Feelings? What is/are the primary mood(s) it inspires in you? Favorite headcanon or tender moment? Favorite line/lyric? (FYI I know you're not on here regularly and I RESPECT that, so if you want to answer, feel utterly free to take your time)... ❤️ Poly

Okay this has been a long time coming (I just didn’t realize how long it would take) but I finally have an answer! Thank you for your patience, dear Poly, and thank you for the super ask! I’m always willing to gush about Hadestown and it was so fun to have the opportunity ^_^

It is, however, a very long answer... it kinda got away from me in the process, hehe.

Favorite song: I feel like it might be cliché to say Wait for Me, but… all the versions of the song are gorgeous in different ways. If I had to be more original, then I would have to say We Raise Our Cups. I tear up every time I listen to it.

Favorite Quality: In the words of Hermes, “it’s a love song.” Orpheus loves Eurydice enough to go to hell to get her. Eurydice loves Orpheus enough to follow him out, though the way is hard. Hades loves Persephone, though he doesn’t know how to show it and is afraid to lose her. Persephone loves Hades enough to keep coming back to him to “try again”. I know that some of those loves are flawed, but they’re human. The beacon of that love and what it represents is important.

Story: I adore the inevitability of Hadestown. We know from the very beginning how this is going to end and yet we still hope that maybe it might just be different this time. We can’t help but hope. I think it speaks to the quality of the musical that it can still pull you in every time. Very cathartic.

Songs: My favorite thing about the songs is having been able to witness their growth and maturity from album to album! Themes, lyrics, and melodies have so many subtle changes that only seem to ring more true with time. It’s also so cool to see how it needed 10+ years to ruminate into the musical we have now. (But this might also be subjective to me because I found out about Hadestown when there was only a concept album, then kept up with each new development until my husband and I were able to see it on Broadway just after its premier.) And I’m very excited to see how the national tour turns out!!

Costumes: I love the tattered/steampunk/industrial look of the OBC show. But I also love what I’ve seen of the off-broadway show, the whimsical costumes of Nabiyah’s Eurydice and early Persephone’s dresses and boldness of Damon’s red jacket (bring! it! back!). The costumes definitely change the vibes of the show though, which is just fascinating to me. Mostly in Eurydice’s character, so…….

Characters: Eurydice. Has. Character. She is three-dimensional, rounded out, and can stand on her own. (this was always something I wished had been different with the myth) It’s interesting to note how her character is portrayed slightly differently depending on the show though? I can’t speak so much to Nabiyah’s portrayal because I didn’t see it, but the music makes me think that she’s harsher and angrier than Eva’s softer and more hopeful version. Orpheus too experiences subtle shifts between Damon and Reeve, specifically bolder to more naïve, which… I don’t hate, but I miss Damon’s Oprheus. I also love that all the main players experience change/growth! They all have agency!

Choreography: I love the transition between carefree in the world above to stark and sharp down below. Tbh Livin’ It Up On Top is not my ~fav~ choreography-wise, however, I recognize it’s a chance for the cast to let loose and have a good time, and it’s important to show just how different things are between the two settings. But the moment we are down below? Stellar. Sharp, synchronized movements that immediately remind you of the cogs of a machine. And I do love how the movements become more human by the time we get to If It’s True and Wait for Me II.

Bonus—the lamp choreo in Wait for Me. I sobbed when I saw them swinging and being used to light an otherwise dark space, leading Orpheus deeper underground.

Atmosphere: slight steampunk vibes my beloved. The off-broadway and Canadian productions’ Tree is something I wish had stayed for the OBC production. In addition to being gorgeous, it adds an element of nature to juxtapose to Hades’ cold, harshly lit, industrial underground. The OBC loses that little bit of earth by taking place in a train station bar. That said, I do enjoy the bar setting in parallel to Persephone’s dismal speakeasy down below. The presence of the band on stage, motley but involved in the story beyond just the music.

Inspired moods: I like angst, for better or for worse. I’ve always been drawn to Orpheus and Eurydice because of how tragic it is. I think it’s very Romantic™. Therefore, any incarnation or representation of the story is automatically my jam. I like that, regardless of how many times I have listened to the album, I still hold on to the hope that it might turn out differently. Just once. That hope is something so precious, something that still deserves to be passed on even if it’s been dashed to pieces. It’s never in vain, you can always try again.

(And, this probably isn’t as relevant, but I think there’s something to be said from a Christian perspective on the show as well. Orpheus is just a man and prone to doubt, as the show illustrates. He fails. We all fail. But there is hope found in One who literally can’t fail in bringing the lost back to Him, and that is an encouraging thought.)

Headcanon: I hold to this one interpretation of the tale that Orpheus looking back was a sign of love (though I don’t discount it being an act of doubt or weakness). I like to think that he was just wanted to see her again, wanted to make sure she made it too, but he was just a fraction of a moment too soon. It almost makes her “death” more tragic.

Tender Moment: my favorite tender moments from the show are 1) when Orpheus runs to the stage through the audience to reach Eurydice again in the second act. Mostly because I didn’t expect it. I was focused on her when a white and red blur with a guitar ran down the aisle to peek his head above the edge of the stage with a joyful “come home with me?” My Heart. 2) when Orpheus finishes Epic III and Hermes says “and you know what they did? They danced.” There is a twenty second bit of acoustic guitar and violin while Hades and Persephone dance for the first time together in ages. It wasn’t a grand or sweeping moment—it was just an old man stumbling through a rusty dance with his wife, and it felt genuine.

Favorite Line/Lyric: starting off strong with the first words of the show. There’s no introduction to Hadestown, no warning it’s about to start. Just Hermes sauntering onstage, looking you straight in the eye, and saying “Alright?” Then the band starts playing and the show begins. Incredible. Unprecedented. But also I weep for all of the Epics. Such solid poetry. So soft.

So anyway, those are my thoughts! They may be a little repetitive, but hopefully I conveyed myself decently enough. Thank you again, lovely!! <3

#I felt like I was writing an essay for the first time in years in the best way possible #my original notes were twice as long #written in the downtime between phone calls and emails at my job #so that's why it's so late in coming... but now it's here!!#Poly #zay answers things #Hadestown

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taste-in-music · 3 years

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taste-in-music’s top 30 songs of 2020

Hey everyone! If you missed it, you can check out my year end wrap-up post going over my favorite albums and EPs of the year. This list will go over my favorite songs of 2020, whether they happen to be on those projects or not. My only limit is one song per project, and thirty songs total. Now then, let’s get started!

First Aid by Gus Dapperton: There is one easy way to get me to love a song, and that’s if an artist adds in another person’s vocals for the bridge and final chorus, hence infusing them with more dimension and meaning. “First Aid” is the best usage of that device all year. The song tackles Dapperton’s struggles with mental health, citing his sister as a large help in the midst of it all. Who best to come in for the bridge and final chorus, then, but his sister (who goes by the stage name Amadelle)? It all comes together to make the final act of the song hit like a gut punch.

Josslyn by Olivia O’Brien: Every year I have to have my helping of big, sugary, bombastic pop tunes on this list, and “Josslyn” was the first of that type of song I fell in love with this year. This song is full of snark and blunt lines, (maybe don’t listen with mom in the room,) but god help me if it didn’t have one of the catchiest chorus melodies of the year. I’ll shout along to the entire song every time I hear it.

Frustrated by Lauren Sanderson: Okay, I only found this song by chance, like, last week, (another good reason for postponing these lists until the year is actually over,) and I have to include it. If you love the hooky guitars lines of The 1975, vocalists with a gritty edge to their delivery, and a free-spirited feel that captures the euphoria of youth, then this is the song for you. I may have just discovered it, but I’ve already played it countless times.

To Me by Alina Baraz: Everything about “To Me” communicates blissful tranquility, from the watery production to the subtle confidence in Baraz’s delivery. Every time I was feeling overwhelmed or stressed this year, (and lord help me, that was a lot,) this was the song I’d always return to to center myself. Baraz demanding respect out of her relationships and the best things out of life was downright inspiring.

Do It by Chloe X Halle: If there is one word I would use to describe this it would be effervescent, this song is so fresh, bouncy, and bubbly, like orange soda in musical form. With its tropical production and effortless vocals, this song made me want to hit a dancefloor like nothing else this year. It was the perfect pop Summer smash that deserved a better Summer.

ringtone (Remix) by 100 gecs ft. Charli XCX, Kero Kero Bonito, and Rico Nasty: This is probably the best remix of the year? The original “ringtone” was a cute, hooky fragment, but this turned it into a fleshed out, full-on posse-cut where each guest gets a moment to shine. Charli XCX turns the hook into an earworm, Kero Kero Bonito contribute their signature chirpy vocals, and Rico Nasty jumps in for an awesome bridge that provides a nice change of pace. And, of, course, 100 gecs are the glue that holds everything together. If you’re new to the gec train, this is a great place to start.

By Myself by Maya Hawke: “By Myself” was the song that proved that Maya Hawke was way more than the usual actor trying to cash in a quick buck. She was a bona-fide craftswoman with the potential to being tears to my eyes with blissfully simple yet artfully constructed folk ballads. This song feels like a long-forgotten lullaby, gentle and beautiful with just enough woeful melancholy to remain emotionally resonant the whole year.

killing boys by Halsey: “killing boys” is the epitome of short but sweet. This song is a fifteen second long dialogue bite Jennifer’s Body followed by some of the most focused, atmospheric pop of the year that only lasts two and a half minutes. The way the thudding heartbeat, low plucked strings, and Halsey’s hushed delivery all build to the distorted end is a pure adrenaline rush every time. It always had me coming back for more, and by the end of the year it had climbed its way up into my top 5 most listened to songs of the year.

Bloom by Donna Missal: It’s not a list of mine without a Donna Missal song, is it? As soon as I saw the name of this song on the Lighter track list, I just had a feeling I was going to love it. “Bloom” is the most stripped-back moment on the album, with just a guitar accompanying Missal, and yet it is also one of the most memorable and evocative songs it has to offer. What the stripped-back production allows is for Missal’s sheer, raw talent as a vocalist to blossom, especially in how she displays so much power not by belting, but by holding back. Accompanied with lyrics that detail the fear of holding someone back in a relationship, “Bloom” is awe-inspiring every time.

fever dream by mxmtoon: mxmtoon’s double album from this year didn’t leave much of an impression of me, but lead single “fever dream” got countless spins. This song feels like a warm hug, with mxmtoon’s amiable vocals, pillowy indie pop production (the chirps! the chimes! the gentle woodwinds!) and comforting lyrics that seemed to synthesize everything I was feeling while giving me a comforting pat on the shoulder at the same time. Take the line: “I want something more than / More than restless mornings / Getting by is so boring.” Gee, I wonder why I would’ve hit a nerve in a year like 2020?

Shoulda Known Better by Nasty Cherry: From the first chord of the intro’s ringing guitars, this feels dug up from a mid-2000s coming of age soundtrack. In fact, there is an inexplicable nostalgic feel to this whole song, from the frankness the lyrics, to the filmy vocal processing, all of it. And the way the song kicks into a faster groove on the chorus is so fun, it makes me want to speed down a highway every time I hear it, and I hate driving! I guess that’s just the power of a great pop rock song.

Heart of Glass by Miley Cyrus: Do you ever hear a song that stops you clean in your tracks and makes you sit in stunned silence until it’s over? Hearing this cover for the first time did that to me. I had been wanting Miley Cyrus to take the rock route for a while, but this cemented that my intuition was 100% correct. It’s not necessarily better than the Blondie version, (Debbie Harry’s original delivery is very smooth and nonchalant, Miley’s is more gritty and rough around the edges,) but it fills an entirely different purpose. And that purpose is to be listened to on a never ending loop, in absolute awe.

WIGS by BLACKSTARKIDS: SURF traverses a slew of sounds, from boisterous rock to hip hop to indie pop. One of the albums best moments, however, comes when all those sounds meet in the middle “WIGS” is a blissed-out in the best way, still providing a memorable hook, (one of the best the album has to offer,) while also letting you relax and hang on for the ride.

Dead Horse by Hayley Williams: This was the most unexpected bop of the year. The lyrics may be all about betrayal in the lead-up to divorce, but the delivery is so upbeat and bouncy that I can often forget just how soul-crushing the content is at times. The production on this is so catchy, with the chirpy, tropical synths, the “ya-ya-yas,” and Williams’s stellar vocals.

this is me trying by Taylor Swift: My favorite songs on folklore came to me in waves. First, “epiphany” was my favorite, with its timely lyrics and orchestral arrangements. Then, it was “the lakes,” with its nostalgic, poetic feel, (consider it a very close runner-up.) But in the end, it was the slow burning ache of “this is me trying” that didn’t just become my favorite on folklore, but one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs ever. Looking back, “this is me trying” synthesizes what I like about those other two songs. It has a grand, atmospheric instrumental and pointed, detailed lyrics, combining the two into a single, perfect, emotional wrecking ball.

Susie Save Your Love by Allie X ft. Mitski: This was my most anticipated duet of the year, and it didn’t disappoint! This song goes by like a long sigh on a humid Summer night, filled with breathy vocals set against a churning groove. The lyrics detail parties gone wrong and unrequited love with a best friend with just enough ambiguity to allude to something darker hovering under the surface. Mitski’s vocals work great in an alt-pop context, I love what she does with her solo work but I certainly wouldn’t be mad if she hopped onto more tracks like this. Also, that guitar solo makes me levitate every time.

Fetch The Bolt Cutters by Fiona Apple: Okay, who had “Fiona Apple meows on a song” on their 2020 bingo card? But it works, it works so well! From its opening clatter of percussion, “Fetch The Bolt Cutters” establishes a locomotive groove that never stops moving forward. In fact, the entire song seems to be dedicated to that sentiment, each lyric linking lines about middle school bullies, media critics, and Kate Bush references into their perfect place. It’s a narrative that may span a lifetime, but it still feels as timely as ever.

forever by Charli XCX: I’ll admit I haven’t returned to How I’m Feeling Now all that much throughout 2020, but I have returned to “forever,” again and again and again. The sugar-sweet hook at the heart of all the blown-out bass is just irresistible. The way it manages to fight to the forefront, cutting through the clouds of distortion like a shimmering pink diamond, is nothing short of hopeful.

Fit N Full by Samia: This was my instant favorite off The Baby. The glistening guitars make for a sweltering summery jam that you can’t help but move to every time you hear it. The way Samia weaves lyrics about the agonizing pressures of womanhood, diet culture, and body image into a catchy pop hook is pretty genius. She wraps them all up into a pretty package for consumption, just like women are forced to do with their pain.

Heartbreak Weather by Niall Horan: Niall Horan has made folksy balladry his mainstay, which is all fine and good, but god help me if his turn towards stadium-rocking power pop didn’t result in one of the most anthemic songs of the year. “Heartbreak Weather” is sharply written, lushly produced, and performed with so much spirit and heart that I can’t help but think that this is the genre Horan has been meant to fall into all along. It’s certainly deserving of its title track status.

Pretty Please by Dua Lipa: Future Nostalgia was an excellent showcase of Dua Lipa’s mastery over nonstop pop bangers, (”Physical” is the very close runner up for this list.) But surprisingly, it was the breather moment on the album, the song where everything slowed down, that really hooked me. I’m gonna say it, “Pretty Please” is so fucking sexy. The whole song screams sensuality, from the lyrics, to the bass line, to the funky synths, to Lipa’s delivery. It may not be as in-your-face as its peers, but it deserves just as much hype.

Woo! by Remi Wolf: I had such a hard time picking a Remi Wolf song for this list that I had to resort to the raw data. “Woo!” ended up on my Spotify Wrapped, so “Woo!” gets this spot. This song just works in some ramshackle way I can’t describe, all the disparate pieces come together with so much charm. The way Wolf’s performance effortlessly flip-flops between jaunty half-rapping modulated with distortion to full-blown, raw belting on the bridge is a wild ride of the best kind every time.

gold rush by Taylor Swift: We have another entry for the highly esteemed category of songs that capture the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. This latest Antonoff-Swift collaboration is a wistful, glittery whirlwind that captures the simultaneous excitement and soul crushing realization of a blooming crush. The way the dreamy intro snaps into the steady thrum of the rest of the song, before the song fades out in the same way, as if to illustrate how your mind can race to dozens of different places all within in the moment of meeting someone? Damn, I’m getting butterflies just thinking about it.

Eugene by Arlo Parks: “Eugene” is a testament to soft-spoken heartache, as Arlo Parks details watching her straight crush in a relationship with a man. The song is incredibly intimate, both with Park’s hushed vocals and the specific details she utilizes in her writing, (Sylvia Plath poetry, a cigarette hanging between purple lips.) It all comes together to make the song all the more personal and heart-aching.

People, I’ve been sad by Christine and the Queens: Christine and the Queens have perfected setting emotionally resonant sentiments against wire-tight grooves, and “People I’ve been sad” may just be their most elegant effort yet. The echoing, stuttering drums, fluttering backing vocals, and reverb give the track a wide sense of space, which perfectly illustrates the loneliness Chris describes. But there’s also this intangible warmth to the song too, harking from the strings and Chris��s introspective performance. Just gorgeous.

XS by Rina Sawayama: Picking a song of SAWAYAMA for this list was damn near impossible. My first favorite off the album was the nu metal rager “STFU!,” then the slinky intrigue of “Akasaka Sad,” then the glitter-flinging “Tokyo Love Hotel.” But did those songs end Karl Marx’s career with their razor-sharp critique of capitalism? No. Hence, “XS” gets this spot. The craftmanship of this song is so impressive, with the rock guitar hits contrasted against the glossy pop production, Rina’s pitch-perfect performance, the witty lyricism, everything. This will go down as a classic in Ms. Sawayama’s discography, no doubt!

Guilty Conscience by 070 Shake: I didn’t even realize this was one of my favorite songs of the year until I was writing this list and felt like something was missing. This feels like a song that plays for the last stragglers on a prom dance floor. It’s melancholic yet just upbeat enough, sprawling yet buoyant, and hooks you in with the perfect balance monstrous, shimmering 80s synths undercut with rattling modern trap percussion. It’s just irresistible. If HBO doesn’t put this on the next season of Euphoria then they’re fools.

I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers: I don’t even know if I can describe the full impact of this song, so I’ll keep to short. One word: catharsis. The way this sound builds up from signature Phoebe Bridgers Ballad™ to forceful rollick to gut-wrenching climax gives me chills every time. I don’t want to spoil it. If you haven’t heard it before, go listen to it, (preferably with the rest of the album, too.) If you know, you know.

Delete Forever by Grimes: Okay, now who had “Grimes makes the best country song of the year” on their 2020 bingo card? I certainly didn’t. I’ve loved Grimes’s work in the past for its ability to transport me to another place. “Delete Forever” does the exact opposite in its discussion of loss, exhaustion, and hopelessness, rooting me right to where I am. But you know what? I think I like that a lot more, especially when the song incorporates a lush acoustic guitar and strings, sunny synths, and just enough optimism to remind me that there is always hope to keep the darkness from fully taking over.

circle the drain by Soccer Mommy: This song was in the running for my favorite song of the year since even before the pandemic began, for its classic 90s-alternative sound, for its clever production choices, and for its anthemic feel. But as the year went on, it just kept getting more and more emotionally potent. I’ve been wanting to look at the songs and albums I’ve discussed on these lists without putting on pandemic-tinted glasses, but the truth is, that experience drastically shaped my year, and how I consume music. The lyrics in this song were so goddamn relatable as this year kept spiraling and it felt like I was along with it. “circle the drain” showed me that it’s okay to be feel like I was “falling apart these days.” Because those feelings are not new, I’m not alone in feeling them, and I may keep feeling them, but you know what? I’ll still have this song, in fact, many of the songs on this list, to return to when I do.

Here are some songs I loved this year that didn’t come out in 2020: “Nikes” by Frank Ocean, “Prom” by SZA, “Rhinestone Eyes” by Gorillaz, “Anyone Else But You” by The Moldy Peaches, “Cold War” by Cautious Clay, “Plans” by Maude Latour, “Sleepyhead” by Passion Pit, and “Narcissist” by No Rome ft. The 1975.

Whether you liked, reblogged, or commented on a post, sent me an ask, or interacted with this blog in any way, thank you so much for all the support throughout the year! I can’t express how much I appreciate it.

What were your favorite songs from this year? Did I miss anything? Send me an ask and let me know. I’ll tell you my thoughts, or put it on my to-listen-to list if I haven’t heard them.

Here’s to 2021! May it clear the extremely low bar set by this year.

#songs #song recommendation #taste in music 2020 faves #taste in music

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emma-what-son · 3 years

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How Sir Philip's son cast a spell on Emma Watson: The super-woke Harry Potter star and the playboy son of the disgraced Topshop tycoon - it's hard to think of a more unlikely romance, writes ALISON BOSHOFF

One can almost see her eyebrows raised in quizzical disdain. Hermione Granger would surely disapprove.

Pictures emerged this week of Emma Watson, the serious-minded Harry Potter actress and eco-warrior, hopping out of Sir Philip Green’s family helicopter in Battersea, South London. Curious, some would think, given Emma’s long-standing war against fast fashion, that she would accept a lift from the fallen King of the High Street.

More curious still, however, is that Emma, 31, has apparently been enchanted by Brandon Green, Sir Philip’s 28-year-old son, whose longest relationship to date seems to have been with a Belarusian bikini model. Could there be a more unlikely romance?

Aside from both being awash with money —Brandon is an heir to a £2 billion fortune, while Emma is said to be worth about £59 million —they appear to have almost nothing in common. Yet according to a friend, a certain magic is in the air.

‘Brandon has been wooing Emma,’ says one source. Another says: ‘They are an item, although she hasn’t met the family yet.’

Emma, who once mused about being ‘self-partnered’, has certainly had more suitors than her single status would have you believe.

At 17, an early boyfriend was rugby player Tom Ducker, but her most serious romance seems to have been with another rugby player — and fellow Oxford student — Matt Janney, with whom she broke up in 2015.

Then there was another Oxford student, Will Adamowicz. The relationship lasted from 2011 to 2013.

She was then seen out and about with actor/producer Roberto Aguire, whom she first met in 2005 on the set of Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire. She also seems to have a particularly weak spot for young tech millionaires, as she has dated at least three of them, most significantly U.S. entrepreneur William ‘Mack’ Knight, whom she split from in late 2017 following a two-year romance.

Then came a six-month love affair with handsome Glee actor Chord Overstreet. They broke up during the summer of 2018.

She was then spotted sharing cocktails with tech CEO Brendan Wallace, a New Yorker, now 38, who is co-founder of a venture capital fund. By summer 2019 she was rumoured to have moved on to another tech millionaire, Brendan Iribe, CEO of Oculus.

She most recently split from her boyfriend of two years, businessman Leo Robinton.

It’s a longer list of amours than you might expect for someone who claims to be ‘self-partnered’, but then Emma is a woman who solemnly examines her life.

‘The boyfriends or partners I’ve had have generally made me feel really cherished. They have built me up,’ she said.

Quite how Brandon — who featured in Tatler’s ‘most eligible’ list in 2014 and was once caught patting Kate Moss’s bottom — fits into Emma’s orbit of admirers, remains to be seen. Although, like Emma’s other admirers, he does have a job running a tech investments company.

So who is this handsome young man — and what does Emma see in him?

Born in 1992, he was raised in Monte Carlo with big sister Chloe. His mother, Tina, is resident in the tax haven and was the ultimate owner of the Arcadia group, which went into administration last year. He went to the principality of Monaco’s International School.

To say his was a gilded upbringing would be an understatement. A source in Monaco says: ‘All the time he was growing up, the Greens would never fly commercial, always in their private jet.

‘They have a private chauffeur and in the family penthouse at the Roccabella building in Monaco there are uniformed maids standing to attention in every room just in case someone needs something. That’s the lifestyle Brandon was born into and has always thought was completely normal.’

He and Chloe have the use of the 109ft yacht Lionchase — Sir Phil has the 295ft Lionheart —which is moored in Monaco in the winter and cruises around the Med all summer.

I’m informed that his mum will pick up ‘seven-figure’ boat bills for the pair of them at the end of the season without blanching.

Brandon’s 2005 Bar Mitzvah caused a stir. It was held at the Grand-Hotel du Cap-Ferrat, with entertainment provided by Beyonce, Destiny’s Child and Italian tenor Andrea Bocelli. There were 300 guests over three days, all hosted by Sir Phil, who was then the boss of Topshop, BHS and Dorothy Perkins, all part of the Arcadia group.

When he was younger, Brandon seemed to be happy to join Chloe in a celebrity-packed party lifestyle. Locals say he was ‘practically living in Monaco’s Sass Café and partying until dawn every morning with a bevy of models’ in his 20s.

Kate Moss — a friend of his father — spent much of her 2011 honeymoon break with Jamie Hince on board his yacht and they got on famously. In 2013 he was spotted playfully groping Moss’s bikini-clad bottom while on holiday in St Barth’s. At the time he was 21.

When she was 21, Emma Watson had been famous for a decade and had just finished making the Potter films.

While Brandon found life one long, joyful party, she was struggling introspectively with having money and acclaim. As she recently said: ‘I’ve often thought, I’m so wrong for this job because I’m too serious.’

She felt physically sick when she found out how much money she had earned from the Potter films, and considered not renewing her contract to complete them.

Following stellar A-levels, she took an English degree at Brown University in Rhode Island — over five years, due to disruption from filming.

Brandon Green doesn’t have a degree. There was some idea that he might buck the family trend and go to university, but Sir Phil told an interviewer at the time: ‘It’s up for discussion,’ and evidently it was decided that was not the right path.

Instead, he spent years learning the ropes of the fashion business with Sir Philip and working for Arcadia.

As the BHS scandal raged in 2016 — after Sir Philip sold the company to a bankrupt, with a hole in its pensions provisions — and the company went bust, Brandon was sent to host a table at the Met Gala Ball in New York in his father’s place.

For three years, he was also a regular at the Topshop show at London Fashion Week, sitting with model Jourdan Dunn and chatting to Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour.

He began to go to Cannes, again as part of Topshop’s presence at the film festival, and to attend the Amfar charity gala on the arm of girlfriend Maryna Linchuk, a Victoria’s Secret model who towered over him.

But when Chloe became more involved in the family business and started designing shoes, Brandon stepped back from the spotlight.

They are a close family, all the more so since the woes that beset the Arcadia Group and Sir Philip before it collapsed. In fact, this seems to have acted as a wake-up call for Brandon.

A source said: ‘Once Philip fell from grace so badly, all the A-list celebrities and many of the world’s elite dropped the Green family completely. It really shook them up.

‘There was a party in Monaco that a family friend threw for them in the middle of the BHS pensions scandal. Brandon looked around aghast and said to Tina, “We don’t know anyone here!”

‘They felt the world hated them. Philip would fill his days doing laps of Monaco on foot with his bodyguard and personal trainer. Tina would busy herself in her art gallery or with her interior design business. There were a lot of tears; it was an awful atmosphere for the staff and for the family.

‘Brandon could see how transient popularity is and how big A-list stars had been using them for free holidays on their yachts for years. The whole experience sparked a “woke-over” in Brandon.

‘He got very interested in biodiversity and saving the oceans. He does a lot of charity and advocacy work with both Monaco’s Prince Albert’s Foundation and Princess Charlene’s Foundation. He is a trained deep-sea diver, he is very into fitness and gets involved with galas and charities that help the planet. He does frequent beach clean-ups and whatever he can to help.

‘It’s all very low-key, as he doesn’t want to be seen to be doing charity work for PR. But he’s been getting Tina to donate a hefty amount of money to charities that help save the planet too, saying they should do some good with their huge fortune.’

A second source says it is now Brandon, rather than Chloe, who is the apple of Tina’s eye, and he who is seen as the one who will eventually turn the family’s public reputation around.

A friend says: ‘He is very disciplined, intelligent and keen on study. He reads a lot, he travels a lot. He’s polite and well-mannered. Whatever he does, he embraces it fully. His parents are proud of him.’

His hobbies include skiing, at which he excels. He trains almost daily and took part in a gruelling cycling and swimming charity event last year for Princess Charlene of Monaco’s charity, going from Corsica to Monaco.

The friend adds: ‘He eats right and doesn’t drink or party — he is a very nice young man.’

How Brandon came to meet Emma, whose woke credentials may prove challenging for his family, is somewhat unclear, although it is believed his newfound interest in charitable ventures may have steered him her way.

Last year Miss Watson joined the sustainability committee at Kering, the owner of top fashion brands such as Gucci. She was labelled ‘Hollywood’s queen of ethical dressing’ by Vogue.

She has been taking a break from acting after appearing in the 2019 film Little Women but remains an active advocate for ‘race and gender justice’ via various charities. In 2014 she became a UN Women Goodwill ambassador, and she also ran a feminist book club, Our Shared Shelf, on Twitter.

She loves writing poetry, jigsaws, cats and nights in.

Her first purchase with the Potter millions was a ‘brick-like’ Toyota Prius. She said: ‘It’s sensible and boring, like me.’

Not that Emma is as staid as she says. In conversation with Gloria Steinem at an event in London in 2016, she revealed that she subscribes to a sex education website called OMGyes.

It’s a far remove from the days when she was cast in the Harry Potter films at nine years old, having been found via the theatre club she attended. She only completed filming the last Potter when she was 20, in June 2010.

Sources who knew her in the Potter days say her father Chris’s influence was paramount, even though she lived with her mother in Oxford.

The experience of growing up on Potter was so constricting and stressful, when the cast and crew held a ‘wrap party’ at Harry’s Bar after the final set of reshoots in 2010, she didn’t attend.

She said in 2017: ‘It’s something I’ve really wrestled with. I’ve gone back and quizzed my parents. When I was younger, I just did it. I just acted, it was just there.

‘I was finding this fame thing was getting to a point of no return. I sensed that if this was something I was ever going to step away from, it was now or never.’

Post-Potter, her films have been generally low-key. It is said she turned down the La La Land role that brought Emma Stone an Oscar.

Her £3 million London home was selected after she viewed it over Skype, because she can come and go unobserved.

That’s not to say her life is in any way normal: her social circle includes fashion figures such as Antoine Arnault of the LVMH dynasty, she has been the face of Lancome perfume and launched a collection with the ethical fashion label People Tree.

The question now is, will Emma finally find lasting love with a most unlikely Green?

#news #boyfriend

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peeves-a-legend · 3 years

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Maximum Entropy

Original Fem!Elementalist x Wizarding World

A.N. ~ Sooo... I made a new account finally!! And I wanted to restart my page with this piece that I had started a while ago. I hadn’t gotten around to finishing it, but I couldn’t let this idea slip through my fingers with the potential that it has (at least in theory lol). As of right now, the main love interest is undecided; I’m just going to let that unfold as a write.

Summary ~ Beatrice Drayton is a fourth year at Arctosov Academy for Elementalists when a stranger comes searching for an alliance. Despite centuries of turmoil between hands and wands, she finds herself across the world, willing to work with the folk that bare wands. Harry isn’t the only one with a prophecy, and it just so happens that Drayton’s destiny relies on the success of Potter’s. End of HP book 4 and onward.

Warning ~ Language and probable violence (eventually)

Word Count ~ 4k

Chapter One

There are only a few days left of this term. Only a handful of classes left to study and then I’m free of academic duties for the summer. The bitter Canadian frost had finally submitted to the heat that the lengthened days brought, allowing the vast Boreal to bloom lush with green. Up until now, the school grounds remained in a turbulent state of snow, slush, and mud. Spring was honestly my least favourite time of the year. Maybe if the school was farther South I’d appreciate the season for what it’s worth, but sleet storms and the rapid amplification of mosquito swarms were all too common in the Northwest Territories prior to the sun and shine of the summer months.

I ran through the sun-lit halls of Arctosov Academy in a desperate attempt to get to class on time. It’s moments like this where I’m grateful for the sleek material of the uniform that hugs tight to my limbs and torso. When I was given the purple and black spandex in first year I complained about the tight-fit jumpsuit till I was blue in the face. It’s so itchy. I’ll freeze come wintertime in this cloth. It’s too tight. Blah, blah, blah. Little did I know that I would eventually praise the aerodynamic nature of it when gliding through the crowded corridors.

The halls of the school were simple, straight passageways that stacked 13 floors high, etched into the side of one of the many mountains that framed the expansive waters of Great Bear Lake. The walls that continued with the face of the mountain were made of tall, clear diamond windows. The bottom of the diamond glass meets a white marble floor while the top of the smooth surface contrasts sharply against the jagged ceiling made of mountain rock. The wall opposite to the lake view was different on all 13 floors. For example, the 9th floor hall (the one that I am currently sprinting down) has a wall made of solid gold. It looks quite gaudy if you ask me. I much prefer the wall made of pure orange flames on the 4th floor. Along each of the distinctive corridors are doors that lead to different rooms that lay in the belly of the mountain. Classrooms, dorms, restrooms, the gym, the dining hall, the kitchen, the library, multiple training rooms, and so on. The only routes that connect each parallel floor to each other are the stairwells that resided at either end of the halls.

As I dodge through bodies, I can’t help but curse my luck. Not even a time-turner could spare me a few moments of peace between classes that I have back to back and over each other. My brothers and my friends tell me I’m just being dramatic, but it’s not like they would actually know the stress of going through the amount of training that I’m subjected to. To think that I’m only in fourth year!

I reach the last door on the opposite side of the hall that I entered from and swiftly glide through the misty veil that floats where a door would be placed anywhere else in the world. Arctosov is all about the dramatics when it comes to decor. As soon as the frothy air clears I’m met head on with a group of fifteen or so third, fourth, and fifth year students standing in a large circle. My brother Zaidyn notices me first, taking a step over to make room for me in the ring. I mouth a silent thanks and he offers a small smile in return.

Our attention is quickly turned to the tall and slender man that paces in the center of the group. At least he had stopped publicly addressing my tardiness every time I showed up to his class a little more than five minutes late.

‘…We will be spending a great deal of time in today’s lesson harnessing the energy in the room in combination with the particles that occupy this space,’ thin lips stated as narrowed eyes observed the group of students. ‘We will be conjuring vortex winds; a tornado if you will. But the key is to keep it controlled and clean. If I witness any funnels produced above the hip,’ Professor Turcoff said, addressing a poor third year directly now, ‘consider your Friday evening booked with a detention.’

‘Well he seems to be in a stellar mood today, don’t you think?’ Zaidyn huffed quietly enough so that only I could hear.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Want to work together?’

I nodded in response as the circle separated off into smaller groups setting to work. We found a less crowded area off towards the edge of the large circular room. All the training rooms are circular in shape with high steel walls, a steel floor, and a steel ceiling. It’s like being trapped in a tin can and we’re the beans. Cool beans, might I add.

‘Now I want you all to focus,’ Turcoff said firmly over the mild chattering that circulated in the room. ‘I don’t just want you to start pushing the molecules around in your vicinity. I want you to feel them. Connect with them. Turn the gases into a fifth limb. Then, and only then, will you have total control.’

With that, I closed my eyes and opened my palms at my side. This was always my favorite part of conjuring magic. To just feel the vibrations of the atoms that are at my mercy for manipulation. The fluid motion of the air as it swirls around each finger, catching ever so slightly on the craters of my fingerprints. The fuzzy, almost ticklish sensation when my skin radiates deep crimson and ripe orange flames. When I suck the moisture from the air that is plentiful, turning the vapours into a blanket of water that obeys at my command. The deep and gyrating rumble that surfaces from all four sides of the room that I’m standing in, mountain rock waiting to collapse if I let it.

But the others wouldn’t understand, you see. For the individuals that attend this very class with me cannot feel the lick of a flame. They cannot consume the hydrogen and oxygen in the atmosphere that is necessary for the flickering lattice of its corresponding liquid. They cannot part the earth at its surprisingly brittle seams, only to allow greenery of sorts to erupt from deep within those cervices. They can only control the air that streams gently over the purple fabric of our jumpsuits. Of course, there are other things that all benders are capable of, but the limit of those abilities is always an arm’s reach away.

All because of one silly chromosome.

Now’s a great time to mention that I’m the only girl in a school full of boys. Why? Because I’m the first female bender that had been born in over 4000 years. The third one ever, to be exact. For whatever rhyme or reason it is extremely rare for a female bender to be conceived, to the point where it is literally unheard of. At least until my existence, that is.

All male benders pass down their elemental ability to the children they procreate. If a son is born, he will take after his father’s magic. So will his sons, and his sons’ sons. But if a daughter is born… it’s a slightly different story.

Female benders harness power differently than their male counterparts. They are able to tap into magical stores that allow access to all areas of elemental manipulation, rather than a single vault. We assume it has to do with the fact that the first bender was a woman herself. Born from the earth and nurtured by the universe, or however that story goes.

But why are female benders so scarce? Nobody really knows. I personally think it’s a method to mediate power. I could not even begin to imagine a world filled with all-powerful women with a temperament like mine. The globe would combust in a matter of seconds. Nuclear, man.

I open my eyes and witness a knee-height funnel of air directly in front of me, swirling gently in a clockwise coil. With a slight curl of my fingers, the twister begins to steadily grow till it’s at the height of my belly button.

‘That’s tall enough, Ms. Drayton.’ But I wasn’t going to feed it any more than I already had. I am in control. The particles will not control me. I look to my brother who has also mastered the task at hand, posture poised with a satisfied smirk playing at his lips. The rest of the room seemed quite confident as well, mind a few individuals who had let the wind get away on them.

The rest of class seemed to be swept away and before long I’m reaching into the skin-hugging collar of my jumpsuit to retrieve the time-turner from around my neck. Four down, only eight more classes to go till dinner. Kill me now.

When I started school in first year, I was beyond excited to learn how to let my powers flourish. But if somebody would have told me that I would be taking four times the amount of school work as every other student at Arctosov, I think it’s fair to say that my enthusiasm wouldn’t have peaked so high. It is partially my fault though. I had been advised to extend my school years to double the standard duration. Unfortunately, fourteen years fell onto deaf ears.

Finding shortcuts is my specialty.

At least some classes are mandatory for all students, like elemental and magical history, calculus, magical and muggle variations of physics and chemistry, and other basic level classes that focus on universal bender abilities. I guess that knocks a couple extra classes off my horrendously long list of academic requirements. Unfortunately, that still leaves quite a hefty load of ability-specific classes on my plate.

The day couldn’t have gone any slower. I mean, it was all fine and dandy until some imbecile pissed off Professor Yawny in Flora Manipulation. The idiot conjured a garden of nettle and didn’t know how to retract the growth, which ultimately led to the suffering of some unsuspecting bystanders. Got a hive or two myself, but nothing compared to the group of students that took the brunt of it on the front line. This little stunt earned the class a ten-page essay on retracting plant growth and the dangers of uncontrolled herbage. Honestly, just what I needed.

As soon as the last period bell chimed (for the third time today), I quickly chucked my notebook and ballpoint into my bag and hurried out of Atomic Theory. I always change out of my jumpsuit before dinner. I hate eating in clothes that expose my well-fed stomach.

I make my way up to the thirteenth floor to access my dorm. The thirteenth floor is by far the coziest of them all. Instead of cleared and pristine halls, upon entering the corridor one is met with a scattered array of sofas, tables littered with magical and muggle games, bookshelves cluttered with various paperback and hardcover copies, and the single Jadeite wall lined with primarily hockey and quidditch posters. A stereo plays some top muggle hits; the audio competes for volume with the crackling sounds that emit from the large pit in the centre of the hall where a seven-foot high flame resides. There are only two doors carved into the green wall: the girl’s and the boy’s dorms.

The boy’s dorm is essentially a revolving door. People are always filing in and out of the community space. The girl’s dorm on the other hand was simply built out of respect. They never expected anybody to occupy the space, but knew that even though the chances were slim, a female student might enrol one day or another. Thank God for those engineers’ prognostic train of thought, otherwise I’d be either bunking in the fifth-floor supply closet or with a bunch of dudes.

Weaving my way around a collection of occupied ping-pong and pool tables, I move quickly not to interfere with the final plays of said matches. These boys tend to get cranky with hunger and exhaustion during the final countdown before supper. The steady sound of the hall dies as I pass through the veil that mists over the entrance to the girl’s dorm. It’s a plain space, but what can I say, I’m the only chick to enter this part of the underground school. I’ve managed to liven the place up with some creeping vines and flowers along the tall, straight marble walls that lead to several bedrooms and baths. Even though the hall is meant to appear light and spacious, the lack of fellow roommates makes this place feel more than empty. Like a blank sheet of lined paper, everything here remains untouched and waiting for scuffs and scrapes of wear, something to push its clean order into the hands of disorder.

Chaos theory loves to make a mess of things.

I swing through the eighth door on the right into the space that I had claimed as mine. I got rid of the other three unoccupied beds and transformed the room into one that I could proudly call my home away from home. Just like every other room in the school, the dorm is circular, so placing furniture in a way that I didn’t hate turned out to be a real pain in my ass. It took me all of first year to decide where I wanted to place my bed, my desk, and my wardrobe in relation to the door. Once I figured that out, the rest was quite fun. Potted plants invade any and all counter space available in the room, while little knick knacks can also be spotted within the jungle. The skylight ceiling illuminates the white brick walls, casting an intense glare to any prying eyes above the diamond-glass. I think it’s chic.

I rummaged through my wardrobe for a pair of blue jeans, sneakers, and my royal purple Arctosov crested pullover. One look in the full-length mirror, quickly fixing my hair to get it up and out of my face, and I set off towards the dining hall. I was at the top of the thirteen flights of stairs when a hand closed around my shoulder, slowing my quick pace.

‘In a rush are we, ‘B’?’ Jaxon. The only person in this school foolish enough to get between me and my awaiting meal. I sped up, forcing the gangly fourth year to keep stride.

‘You try tack on eight extra classes to your schedule. See how you fair come dinner time.’

‘I think you’re just complaining for pity,’ he teased, meeting my rib with his elbow. ‘“Look at me, the most powerful being alive. Tired, stressed, and hungry! You have no idea what it’s like to be so damn awesome all the time! It’s exhausting! I –”’ My hand shot out to push Jaxon off balance, nearly sending him down the last couple stairs in the flight we were walking down.

‘Your impression of me is beyond inaccurate.’

‘And your muscles are beyond underestimated,’ Jaxon shot back with a smirk, rubbing his arm where I contacted him with the blow. ‘Didn’t know you possessed the power of super-strength as well.’

‘Like you said, I’m just so damn awesome.’ Our grins mirrored each other as we bounded down the rest of the steps to the first-floor dining hall. This is how our banter went most of the time. It was quick, it was witty, it was smooth. He always knows just how far to push to elicit a shove back, and I always shove back. But he also knows when he’s about to push too far. Rarely ever had we actually fought with one another. In the last four years of school, we’ve only actually fought once, and that’s a story nobody talks about anymore. It was stupid, but it was explosive, and I mean literally explosive. Jaxon is a fire bender, so I’m lucky that I have the ability to take the heat. The library shelves that surrounded us during the dispute… well, they didn’t survive.

Jaxon was my best friend. A brother. Nothing more, nothing less. In my eyes at least.

Like cattle, students were milling into and about the dining hall trying to find a place to sit at the single spiral table that coiled into the center of the round room. Purple banners bearing our school crest hung from the high rock ceiling, flashing the menacing stare of the Kodiak that was featured in the heart of the emblem. The student body had encountered a few of the rather large bears during my years at the academy. I never thought I’d ever get the chance to witness such fear amongst a group of insufferably cocky teenage boys, and I loved every second of it. Bunch of pansies.

‘B!’ My attention is quickly captured by my two brothers sitting in the middle of the spiral of students. Jaxon and I walk down the winding aisle to sit in front of Zaidyn and Treston, who have also changed out of their uniforms. It is only when we take our seats that I realize that something is definitely not right.

‘Hey guys, why the long faces?’ I ask, hesitation evident in my wavering tone. If Treston looks startled, then something big must have happened. This sixth year is not easily phased.

A couple of our other friends join the group, sitting on either side of Zaidyn and myself. They also become attentive to the tension held within the conversation. Bret and Oscar share a look between themselves then with me, silently looking for an explanation. I simply shrug my shoulders.

This is weird.

Treston is the first to speak. ‘Didn’t you hear?’

‘Hear what?’ Jaxon and I replied in unison.

‘One of them is here,’ Zaidyn continued. ‘Apparently wants to give a speech or something after supper. Not sure what about though.’

‘What do you mean here?’ snaps Jaxon. ‘I thought that they weren’t allowed on our turf?’

‘Yeah, I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate it if someone of our kind went poking a nose over the fence,’ Oscar added. Zaidyn simply shook his head in shock. ‘I mean, legally they can’t be here, right? Documentation exists for a reason –’

‘Documentation is nothing but a piece of paper and a couple of lousy signatures. Words mean nothing to them. They’ve always turned their backs on allies and their own. Don’t you ever pay attention in Magical History?’ It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but I can still see how my sharp words stung Oscar. He’s always had too much pride for his own good, especially when it comes to his grades in school. His glare notified me that I’d hit a weak spot.

‘Alright ladies, claws away,’ Bret chimed in. Always there to referee, but it’s usually Jaxon and I that he tries to simmer down. ‘I know it’s news that none of us want to hear, but if it’s true then we have to keep our heads on our shoulders and on a swivel. I can’t see anything good coming out of this, and I know neither can any of you,’ he said addressing the quiet group.

‘All I’m saying is that agreements were made for a reason. If they hadn’t been made, then the magical world would be in a completely different state as of right now. They should be considering themselves lucky that they aren’t extinct,’ Oscar sighed. I had to agree with him there. ‘Our ancestors were patient and wise, which is why we lost so much blood to the wands. But too much animosity had festered for far too long, and quite frankly I don’t consider myself patient or wise. You can’t tell me today’s generation would be so kind as to forgive and forget.’

Oscar was right and we all knew it. Everybody in the hall knew it, too. We may have forgiven them, but we sure as hell have not forgotten. We are reminded every day we walk through these halls – the only halls on the planet that houses students of our kind. The number of benders left was a thought to make my blood run cold. Although, we are making a comeback; slowly but surely. I gave Oscar a small half-understanding, half-apologetic smile.

Before I could add anything further to Oscar’s words of truth, a lavish dinner appeared on the table below our chins. Elk roast, wild salmon, kale salad, stuffed mushrooms, and more. I prayed that saskatoon pie was being served for dessert later in the evening. The apprehensive atmosphere quickly dissipated as we dug into our grub. Frowns were replaced with filled-cheek smiles, and the uneasy silence was enveloped in hearty laughter. Talk of the latest playoff news and summer plans seemed to entertain the table enough to keep the conversation going. It was interesting being a part of the guy’s gossip sessions during meals. Not that I would actually call it gossip; maybe more along the lines of petty pissing contests. Wouldn’t be the first time I sat through a mine’s bigger than yours argument.

It was when our Headmaster stood up from the semi-circle teacher’s table at the back of the hall that the reality of the situation set in once again. Professor Fobert never has to gather the attention of the many eyes leering in anticipation, for their focus was already on him. Fobert’s aura demanded one’s gaze, it did not ask. He was tall, sternly featured, and looked tough as nails. His black-scaled tunic wrapped snugly around his torso, making the greying man look ready for battle at a moment’s notice. When the hall’s sound died down, all that could be heard was the vibrations from deep within the mountain’s abdomen, rock waiting to respond to our Headmaster’s request.

‘Good evening, students. I shall speak frankly and I shall speak clearly, that way you will not misunderstand what I am about to tell you.’

Well that’s a new introduction.

‘I have never assumed any of you as naive, therefore I refuse to start now.’

A very new introduction.

‘Most of you are aware that we have a guest joining us this evening. A guest that has come from overseas to speak to you all.’ It seemed as though our Headmaster couldn’t speak quickly enough. Every student in the room was now perched on the edge of their seat, listening intently for the next words to leave Fobert’s mouth. We knew where this was going, but nobody wanted to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

Fobert opened his mouth to speak again, but words never escaped. Instead, a toothy grin tightened the flesh around his chin, and his eyes looked over the heads of the students sitting before him. Naturally, we all turned our heads in the direction of our superior’s gaze towards the entrance to the hall.

If the hall was quiet a moment ago, it sure as shit wasn’t anymore. We didn’t even need a second take to confirm our suspicion.

The man was about the same height as Professor Fobert, but the age difference was quite notable. Where Fobert was steeled with sharp middle-aged wear, the other man appeared worn with the drooping and sagging lines of old-age. He did not wear a tunic and pants, but a floor-length grey robe that matched the colour of his long, neatly kept beard. The cuffs on his sleeves tapered off in the shape of a bell at the knuckles of his boney fingers.

Only people of wizarding blood dressed like that.

‘Albus!’

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