#which is ironic considering that I’m a bigger fan of other authors

[classics-cassandra]

Ovid after a poem and a mistake:

#I feel like this is slowly becoming an Ovid and catullus centric blog #which is ironic considering that I’m a bigger fan of other authors #classics memes #ancient history memes #ancient history #ancient literature memes #ancient rome #tagamemnon #Latin #latin poetry #Latin love poetry #the roman empire #emperor augustus #Ovid #ars amatoria #metamorphoses #ovid's metamorphoses #a poem and a mistake

[maxwell-grant]

So, any thoughts on The Green Lama (who unexpectedly became one of my faves), the Pulp Hero who is also a Superhero?

Much like other pulp heroes of the time, The Green Lama had multiple secret identities and a massive supporting cast aiding him in his quest for justice. Unlike his contemporaries, The Green Lama eschewed guns in favor of radioactive salts, magic, and sleight of hand. He rarely, if ever, killed his enemies. His tales also had an advanced sense of continuity, with characters growing and changing over time, plot points introduced in one story paying off several tales later. The Green Lama is a character of contradictions, driven forward by a faith he is forced to betray. It makes him flawed and imperfect, and in that way, one of the most human of all pulp heroes - The Green Lama: Scions

While not the "only" example of a pulp hero who is a superhero, The Green Lama is arguably the one who leans the most into the superhero aspect out of all the classic 30s pulp heroes that usually get brought up. I would argue that The Green Lama is the most direct answer to the question "what happens when you combine The Shadow and Superman together", considering he was modeled extensively after both in his forays into pulp, radio and comic books, and has also grown into his own character.

He's got the unique skills bordering on superpowers (that eventually became outright superpowers). He's got pretty much The Spectre's costume, except of course he came first. He's an urban costumed crimefighter wh deals with gangsters and criminal masterminds, and yet has an extremely strong stance against killing and carrying guns under any circumstance, even saying they would make him no better than the criminals he fights, which makes him by default the pulp hero that Batman would get along best with. The comics took it way further even turning the “Om Ma-ne Pad-me Hum” chant into a Shazam! transformation cry (Shazam came first, although the two debuted in the same year).

He's got a suitably punchy and dramatic origin: guy spends 10 years in Tibet and returns to America intend on spreading Buddhism's pacifist doutrine, only to witness the murder of children at the hands of mobsters the literal second he steps off the boat, and after spending restless days in the police station to see if they would find the culprit, he sees the killer walk out of the commissioner's office free, which convinces him he needs to take up crimefighting because the police are useless, and he outright calls the police "incompetent" in a letter to the papers that he uses to introduce himself to the world, which is not something you find often in 30s/40s fiction even if's an implicit part of the pulp hero/superhero fantasy.

He had a stronger sense of continuity than most pulp heroes were usually afforded. He has a lot of the pulp hero stock and trade like the assistants and the pseudo-science and the odd radio gadgets and of course the Orientalism that we'll get into, but remixed in a pretty cool way that allows him to stand out from his inspiration. He's got incredibly weird aspects to him like the fact that he gets enhanced abilities from crystallized salt or even becoming radioactive (which could be interesting to explore considering "radiation" became the go-to origin for superpowers in the 60s). He's got an allright supporting cast and Magga, while ultimately a deus ex machina, is a very interesting addition to it and I wish her mystery was played up more often in subsequent stories past the original run. There's a lot about The Green Lama that really works, he was incredibly successful at the time and he's managed to thrive over the years lot more than most of his contemporaries

Despite all the powers he wielded he felt impotent, nothing more than a rich boy playing the games of gods. He had chosen the path of the Bodhisattva, sacrificing himself for the good of all sentient beings, but even so the weight of responsibility, the lives of so many in his hands, threatened to crush him. It was tempting to turn away, to deny his calling, but the life of a Bodhisattva demanded more; and it was only recently that he had begun to realize how much it truly required.

The main problem with The Green Lama, and by problem I mean "the character works fine for his time but this is seriously holding him back from becoming sustainable again", is the fact that he's a white rich man who fights crime by going as hard into Orientalism tropes as possible, which is inescapably baked into the premise.

Now, I will argue that The Green Lama was, for his time, a progressive character. The Buddhist aspects of his character weren't just backstory fodder or an excuse for his superpowers as they were to pretty much every other character at the time, Jethro was a practicing Buddhist, who fought crime informed by his beliefs, trying to respect them (and not exactly succeeding) and offering a wholly positive perspective of Buddhism. Nowadays, it creates a problem, but at the time, it made the character stand out from every other hero who had "traveled to Tibet" checked out, because Tibet and Buddhism were heavily incorporated into the character. The Lama may have been born merely out of a desire to cash in on The Shadow's newfound radio popularity, but Crossen took it much more seriously than his contemporaries and made it an effort to instill admiration in his readers towards what he was referencing, which he was pulling from books about the subject and the Pali language. Is research the bare minimum? Yes. But it’s a bare minimum that even today’s writers don’t do even having an infinitely bigger wealth of information at their disposal. 

To further cement my point: There's a particular Green Lama comic story called The Four Freedoms, which is about the Lama receiving a letter from a fan in the army who's worried about a racist private who keeps insulting the black privates while crowing about racial superiority, and so the Lama kidnaps the private and takes him on a tour through Germany so he can witness firsthand how his talk aligns with Nazi ideology, even specifically referring to Jim Crow's laws, criticizing how easily Americans fall for racial war rhetoric, and pointing out the idea of racism as a tool of tyrants to divide and conquer. It's not my place to champion this as some great representation and that's not what I'm doing, but if this all seems passe or simplistic or even problematic to you, trust me, this was still the era of Slap-A-Jap Superman, stories like this were absolutely not the norm at the time, even in other stories where superheroes dealt with racial discrimination.

He even caps off the story by stating that punching or ending Hitler is not the solution (although he lets Jones take a couple of swings) because Hitler is just one part of a much bigger problem that needs to be fought on all of it's forms. It's all very much afterschool special/anti-racism PSA, sure, but it's easier to mock those in our time. You find me a Golden Age superhero comic that shits on Jim Crow specifically while the hero tells the reader that Hitler is not the ultimate evil but merely "a cog in the wheel", part of a problem that's deeply entrenched in America's own shores (really, do, I'm genuinely curious if more of them did anything like this).

Does any part of what I said negates the fact that, at the end of the day, he's still a white man using Orientalism mysticism to fight crime? No, it doesn't. And if Iron Fist can't get away with it, if Dr Strange only just barely does, the Green Lama sure as hell can't. And you cannot downplay those aspects either lest you end up with a completely different character. It's a bit of a conundrum that makes the character tricky to approach from a revival perspective.

I completely agree with what you said here, Green Lama would benefit from a Legacy Hero approach very strongly. And Green Lama: Scions opens up an interesting possibility of Jethro Dumont not being quite what he seems, backed up by the fact that he wore disguise make-up in the original stories:

They had a lot of names for him in the papers—the Verdant Avenger, the Mysterious Man of Strength—but Reynolds had always been partial to “Buddhist Bastard.” No one had ever seen his face or, at the very least, the same face. Seemed like everyone had a different story. The Green Lama was white, he was black, he was asian, he was old, and he was young. You could fill a room of witnesses and no two would describe the same person.

Really I think if you just got rid of that one thing that holds the Lama back the most from catching on in modern times, I think he's the kind of character that lends itself a lot to long-term sustainability. He's already fairly popular as is, definitely an indispensable inclusion of any shared pulp hero or Golden Age superhero universe and definitely one of my favorites among the 30s American pulp heroes. And there’s ways to make the concept more interesting and workable.

Maybe The Green Lama is just a title that's been going on for generations, with Jethro being one of many to fill in. Maybe Magga used to be it, maybe the tulku that instructed Jethro did, maybe there's a new character with it. Maybe Jethro is just an identity used by an Asian-American adventurer to operate safely in the US, or maybe Jethro has a sort of Lamont Cranston arrangement going on. Maybe he's part of the reason why Tibet was the superpower capital of the world in the 30s or 40s, or part of the reason why radiation started granting so many heroes superpowers in the 60s.

The character's skillset has been fairly "anything goes" ever since his author made him a flying superman for the comics, and really he already started out being able to deliver electric shocks through his fingers by guzzling radioactive salts. He's a very weird character, and I will always argue that weird is what works best for the pulp heroes.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #comic books #comics #the green lama #jethro dumont #alex ross

[linastudyblrsblog]

Burnout, unfortunately, is everywhere. If you haven’t experienced it personally, you probably know someone who has self-diagnosed.

 Defined by the World Health Organization as a syndrome “conceptualized as resulted from chronic workplace stress,” it causes exhaustion, “feelings of negativism or cynicism,” and reduced efficacy. That’s a big umbrella, and the condition has become something of a catch-all for chronic, modern-day stress. 

Here are 11 of our favorites to help you create your own escape plan:

1. Figure out which kind of burnout you have.

The Association for Psychological Science found that burnout comes in three different types, and each one needs a different solution:

1. Overload: The frenetic employee who works toward success until exhaustion, is most closely related to emotional venting. These individuals might try to cope with their stress by complaining about the organizational hierarchy at work, feeling as though it imposes limits on their goals and ambitions. That coping strategy, unsurprisingly, seems to lead to a stress overload and a tendency to throw in the towel.

2. Lack of Development: Most closely associated with an avoidance coping strategy. These under-challenged workers tend to manage stress by distancing themselves from work, a strategy that leads to depersonalization and cynicism — a harbinger for burning out and packing up shop.

3. Neglect: Seems to stem from a coping strategy based on giving up in the face of stress. Even though these individuals want to achieve a certain goal, they lack the motivation to plow through barriers to get to it

2. Cut down and start saying “no.”

Every “yes” you say adds another thing on your plate and takes more energy away from you, and your creativity:

If you take on too many commitments, start saying ‘no’. If you have too many ideas, execute a few and put the rest in a folder labeled ‘backburner’. If you suffer from information overload, start blocking off downtime or focused worktime in your schedule (here are some tools that may help). Answer email at set times. Switch your phone off, or even leave it behind. The world won’t end. I promise.

3.  Give up on getting motivated.

With real burnout mode, you’re too exhausted to stay positive. So don’t:

When you’re mired in negative emotions about work, resist the urge to try to stamp them out. Instead, get a little distance — step away from your desk, focus on your breath for a few seconds — and then just feel the negativity, without trying to banish it. Then take action alongside the emotion. Usually, the negative feelings will soon dissipate. Even if they don’t, you’ll be a step closer to a meaningful achievement.

4.  Treat the disease, not the symptoms. 

For real recovery and prevention to happen, you need to find the real, deeper issue behind why you’re burnt out:

Instead of overreacting to the blip, step back from it, see it as an incident instead of an indictment, and then examine it like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues.

For example, you could ask yourself: What happened before the slip? Did I encounter a specific trigger event such as a last-minute client request? Was there an unusual circumstance such as sickness? When did I first notice the reversion in my behavior? Is some part of this routine unsustainable and if so, how could I adjust it to make it more realistic?

5.  Make downtime a daily ritual.

To help relieve pressure, schedule daily blocks of downtime to refuel your brain and well-being. It can be anything from meditation to a nap, a walk, or simply turning off the wifi for a while:

When it comes to scheduling, we will need to allocate blocks of time for deep thinking. Maybe you will carve out a 1-2 hour block on your calendar every day for taking a walk or grabbing a cup of coffee and just pondering some of those bigger things. I can even imagine a day when homes and apartments have a special switch that shuts down wi-fi and data access during dinner or at night – just to provide a temporary pause from the constant flow of status updates and other communications…

There is no better mental escape from our tech-charged world than the act of meditation. If only for 15 minutes, the ability to steer your mind away from constant stimulation is downright liberating. There are various kinds of meditation. Some forms require you to think about nothing and completely clear your mind. (This is quite hard, at least for me.) Other forms of meditation are about focusing on one specific thing – often your breath, or a mantra that you repeat in your head (or out loud) for 10-15 minutes…

If you can’t adopt meditation, you might also try clearing your mind the old fashioned way – by sleeping. The legendary energy expert and bestselling author Tony Schwartz takes a 20-minute nap every day. Even if it’s a few hours before he presents to a packed audience, he’ll take a short nap.

6.  Stop being a perfectionist; start satisficing.

Trying to maximize every task and squeeze every drop of productivity out of your creative work is a recipe for exhaustion and procrastination. Set yourself boundaries for acceptable work and stick to them:

Consistently sacrificing your health, your well being, your relationships, and your sanity for the sake of living up to impossible standards will lead to some dangerous behaviors and, ironically, a great deal of procrastination. Instead of saying, “I’ll stay up until this is done,” say, “I’ll work until X time and then I’m stopping. I may end up needing to ask for an extension or complete less than perfect work. But that’s OK. I’m worth it.” Making sleep, exercise, and downtime a regular part of your life plays an essential role in a lasting, productive creative career.

7.  Track your progress every day.

Keeping track allows you to see exactly how much is on your plate, not only day-to-day, but consistently over time:

Disappointing feedback can be painful at first – research shows that failure and losses can hurt twice as much as the pleasure of equivalent gains. But if you discover you’re off course, reliable feedback shows you by how much, and you then have the opportunity to take remedial action and to plot a new training regime or writing schedule. The temporary pain of negative feedback is nothing compared with the crushing experience of project failure. Better to discover that you’re behind and need to start writing an hour earlier each day, than to have your book contract rescinded further down the line because you’ve failed to deliver.

8.  Change location often.

Entrepreneurs or freelancers can be especially prone to burnout. Joel Runyon plays “workstation popcorn,” in which he groups tasks by location and then switches, in order to keep work manageable, provide himself frequent breaks, and spend his time efficiently:

You find yourself spending hours at your computer, dutifully “working” but getting very little done. You finish each day with the dreaded feeling that you’re behind, and that you’re only falling farther and farther behind. You’re buried below an ever-growing to-do list. There’s a feeling of dread that tomorrow is coming, and that it’s bringing with it even more work that you probably won’t be able to get ahead on.

List out everything you need to do today. Try to be as specific as you can…Next, break that list into three sections. Step 1: Go to cafe [or desk, a different table in your office, etc.] #1. Step 2: Start working on item group #1…Once you finish all the tasks in group #1, get up and move. Close your tabs, pack your bags, and physically move your butt to your next spot. If you can, walk or bike to your next stop…When you get to the next cafe [or spot], start on the next action item group, and repeat…

When you’ve completed everything on your to-do list for the day, you are done working. Relax, kick back, and live your life. Don’t take work home with you because that won’t help you get more done – it will just wear you out.

9.  Don’t overload what downtime you do get.

Vacations themselves can cause, or worsen burnout, with high-stress situations, expectations, and sleep interruption. Use it to help in recovery from burnout instead: 

Make a flexible itinerary a priority. [A] study from Radboud University found that effective vacations give you the choice and freedom to choose what you want to do. That means two things: Try to avoid structuring your vacation around an unbreakable schedule, and plan on going somewhere that has multiple options to pick from depending on the weather, your level of energy, or your budget.

10. Write yourself fan mail.

Seth Godin uses self-fan mail as a way to keep motivated instead of burning out on a project that seems far from completion:

I define non-clinical anxiety as, “experiencing failure in advance.” If you’re busy enacting a future that hasn’t happened yet, and amplifying the worst possible outcomes, it’s no wonder it’s difficult to ship that work. With disappointment, I note that our culture doesn’t have an easily found word for the opposite. For experiencing success in advance. For visualizing the best possible outcomes before they happen. Will your book get a great testimonial? Write it out. Will your talk move someone in the audience to change and to let you know about it? What did they say? Will this new product gain shelf space at the local market? Take a picture. Writing yourself fan mail in advance, and picturing the change you’ve announced you’re trying, to make is an effective way to push yourself to build something that actually generates that action.

  11. Break projects into bite-sized pieces.

Taking a task on in one entire lump can be exhausting and provide little room for rest in between. Breaking up your projects into set chunks with their own deadlines provides a much healthier, and easier, way of completing a large project:

The default take on deadlines is typically to consider them to be cumbersome and stressful. Yet, from another perspective, a deadline can be viewed as a huge benefit to any project. Without the urgency of a hard deadline pushing a project to completion, it’s easy for you, your team, or your client to lose focus. We’ve all worked on agonizing projects where the timeline just bleeds on and on, merely because the flexibility is there…

It turns out that the manner in which a task is presented to someone – or the way in which you present it to your brain – has a significant impact on how motivated you will be to take action. A study led by researcher Sean McCrea at the University of Konstanz in Germany recently found that people are much more likely to tackle a concrete task than an abstract task… It seems to me like the difference between being handed a map versus following the step-by-step instructions of a GPS device. Not everyone can read a map, but everyone can follow the directions. By breaking your project down into smaller, well-described tasks, the way forward becomes clear and it’s easy to take action.

#studyblr #study tips #studying #studyspo #studyinspo #student life #study #100 days of productivity #productivity #studyblr masterpost #studyblr blog #masterpost #graphicwork #infographic #graphic design #burnout #avoid burnout #university #uniblr #self improvement #dark acadamia aesthetic #classic academia #time management #studygloom #studygram #aesthetics #inspritaion #lifestyle #college #motivation

[gascon-en-exil]

Who Can Say if I've Been Changed For the Better?: Ferdibert Does Wicked

This concept has been a bit in building. It started from a much-loved cover by Hubert and Ferdinand’s VAs inspired by their support line and the broad observation that these two are a musicals couple who absolutely would sing their feelings in all manner of theatrical AUs. It continued through my later observation that there’s ample material to carry that idea even further, albeit with a shift outside of Crimson Flower for a better tonal match. Still, I’m not quite sure what to call this project; it’s not really a headcanon nor is it fanfic by any means. I’ve written a handful of longform character/narrative explorations before, although when it comes to FE I’ve previously been inspired to do so only for Jugdral characters. That setting is somehow both underdeveloped and deceptively dense - and I suppose in a way you could say the same of Three Houses as well, insofar as it’s been incredibly popular for fan content of all sorts.

Regardless of what this post is in terms of my fandom output, the following isn’t exactly a Wicked AU as such. Rather, it’s how I would envision a hypothetical blend of the non-CF routes of FE16 centering around the Eagles trio and set to the structure and songs of the musical as organically as possible. There are no 1:1 analogues with characters and plotlines from Wicked, because few if any would exist without a lot of tweaking; to use the VA cover example, Ferdinand might be a decent proxy for G(a)linda, but the mere presence of Edelgard substantially complicates Hubert’s claim to the Elphaba role. The similarities only unravel further from there, but I did my best.

Writing this out gave me the opportunity to play around with Edelgard’s character as a way of addressing what I and many others in my circle have long considered to be some of the major problems with her canon presentation. For Ferdibert meanwhile I got to make use of my headcanons for how their relationship would develop outside of their support line, in a way that mostly preserves Hubert’s delightful evil wickedness. Add some ruminations on how one would splice together the non-CF routes in a dramatically satisfying fashion, some snark directed at the non-character of Byleth, and a bit of background Dimidue/Lions OT5 for spice and that just about sums it up. Enjoy this…whatever this is.

Act I

“No One Mourns the Wicked”

The show opens on the citizens of Adrestia celebrating the death of their emperor and the end of her bloody war. Ferdinand rides in, resplendent on his steed, and is hailed as the new Duke Aegir as he relates to the crowd the news of Edelgard’s death at the hands of the combined army of liberators. The “Are people born wicked?” flashback sequence is replaced with a summary mostly in pantomime of Edelgard’s backstory: the Insurrection, her being taken to Faerghus and then returning, and then being experimented on by the Agarthans before agreeing to work with them. Notably Hubert is not named or referenced anywhere in this song, appearing only as a boy at Edelgard’s side at appropriate times during the flashback.

“Dear Old Shiz”

Someone in the crowd finally brings up Hubert, the emperor’s vile and murderous minister, and accuses Ferdinand of having been his friend. With Ferdinand even more flustered than Glinda since his “It depends on what you mean by friend” definitely carries sexual undertones, so begins the flashback to Part 1. There’s an equivalent intro of Garreg Mach, so one may feel free to insert any headcanons for school songs here. The following dialogue scene establishes the student body in general and the dynamic of the Eagles trio in particular: Ferdinand pompous and eager to one-up Edelgard at any opportunity, and Edelgard and Hubert cold and dismissive toward his antics and just about everyone else for that matter. Edelgard is instantly enamored of the quiet new professor, of course. Because the room assignment conflict doesn’t make a lot of sense with the monastery’s setup, instead Ferdinand is incensed that Edelgard is chosen as the Eagles’ house leader over him even though it’s been ages since a Hresvelg has attended. Neither Nessarose nor Morrible has an exact equivalent (although Seteth can act in Morrible’s role as the academy’s main authority figure), so the segue into the next song ends there.

“The Wizard and I”

Now alone together, Edelgard and Hubert have a brief dialogue outlining their villainous plans for the school year. This establishes Hubert’s hypercompetency but also how detached and professional Edelgard is around him. Then comes the song, now “My Lady and I,” which serves as Hubert’s character introduction. In tones more sinister than Elphaba ever reaches - you know he’d have fun with “When people see me they will scream” - he outlines his history with his lady, that he delights in serving her because she validates his work ethic and gives him an outlet for his ruthlessness and cruelty. Where Elphaba fantasizes about the Wizard removing her green skin, Hubert instead goes full Nice Guy, believing that once he’s given Edelgard her continental empire and crushed all her enemies she’ll be so grateful that of course she’ll put out for him.

“What Is This Feeling?”

You could rip the tone of this one directly from the Ferdibert C support and change nothing - homoerotic subtext included. I like the thought of Hubert replacing Elphaba’s deadpan one-word summation of Galinda with a mocking imitation of Ferdinand's most memetic line: "He is Ferdinand von Aegir!". The chorus can be made up of any number of other students excluding Edelgard, who’d happily agree that Hubert is ugly, creepy, and downright unpleasant.

“Something Bad”

The content of this song and surrounding scenes would have to be completely altered, but they work as a necessary reminder that the plot of Part 1 is still going on in the background of all the school drama. Seteth runs through the major events up to Chapter 9 of the game, including the bandit threat, Flayn’s kidnapping, and the experiments on the Remire villagers. The audience/accompaniment for this exposition dump ought to be Dimitri and Claude with Byleth as a silent observer (more on them later), with Edelgard brushing off the news and eventually being the one to shut down the song as Morrible does. There could be some small side character moments in here as well particularly involving the Lions and Deer since they get so little focus in this story.

“Dancing Through Life”

Speaking of which, this was an awkward sequence to place. It matches up chronologically with the ball in Chapter 9 and the main part, Fiyero’s, is a dead ringer for Sylvain and his flirty, hedonistic nihilism (“Nothing matters / but knowing nothing matters!”), but it’s hard to tie into what’s going on with the Eagles trio particularly with the Ferdibert timeframe preserved, i.e. unlike Elphaba and Galinda they don’t become closer until after the timeskip.

As such I see this song as an opportunity for little vignettes with the other students: Dimitri angry over how Dedue’s talked about and hoping they can share a dance (fitting contrast with the coldness of Edelbert), Felix prickly between Dimitri’s recent outbursts and Sylvain’s showboating, Claude hinting toward the bigger picture with Hilda flitting between her excitement over the dance and knowing more than she's letting on, Dorothea casually taking note of Edelgard’s fascination with Byleth (see just below), Bernadetta as a wallflower who doesn’t want to be disturbed (a setup for Act II), etc. Thanks to one of the Forging Bonds events in Heroes I had the thought that the "You/we deserve each other" through line that later gets attached to Nessarose can become one for Dimitri's relationships, with Felix initially throwing it out at him and Dedue and the two of them then turning "We deserve each other" into a romantic line...and then an ironic one and finally a triumphant one come Act II, by that point with Felix et al included as well.

I’m not sure that the following scene of Galinda and Elphaba bonding on the dance floor really needs an equivalent, although it could be altered to something Edeleth-related. In any case Ferdinand ought to get a dance scene of some nature, so he can try to show up Edelgard as he brags about in canon.

“Popular”

It would be a travesty to have a musical starring FE16’s cast and not give Dorothea and/or Manuela a solo. This song works quite well for the former, and it doesn’t intrude on the Ferdibert development with the aforementioned timeframe and how the lightly sapphic vibe doesn’t translate well to two guys. Dorothea has taken note of her good friend Edie’s crush on their mysteriously wooden professor, and she senses the opportunity for a makeover. Not as exaggerated as Dorothea trying to make over Hubert, naturally, but I still think this works out well. Also, Galinda’s observation on leaders, “Did they have brains or knowledge? / Don’t make me laugh! They were popular!”, is darkly comedic when said to Edelgard.

“I’m Not That Girl”

This song comes with preceding dialogue scenes for setup, so those first. Edelgard emerges fresh from her makeover (given her general hot for teacher fixation, I’m thinking she’d lean pretty hard on the naughty schoolgirl look) to Byleth silently grieving Jeralt’s death - bad timing there. She’s as callous about it as she is in canon, only now with more clumsy flirting, and while it’s impossible as always to tell if Byleth notices or cares Hubert most certainly does. The scene segues into the Eagles trio together, with Edelgard alluding to the upcoming events in the Sealed Forest and indicating that Hubert should meet up with her later for some more villainous scheming after he’s ditched Ferdinand. Ferdinand, indignant about being left out of the loop as he is in canon, grumpily points out that he was a much more splendid dancer at the ball than Edelgard, makeover or not. To his utter surprise, Hubert acknowledges that this is true before leaving. This leads into the actual song, altered from homoerotic via triangulation of desire to an outright sexual awakening for Ferdinand. He realizes that part of his jealousy toward Edelgard is that he wishes Hubert were devoted to him instead, and tells himself not to get his hopes up because he’s, well, not that girl or even a girl. We shall of course leave aside how anyone could be attracted to someone as repulsive as Hubert; that’s part of the inherent comedy of this pairing.

“One Short Day”

This was the hardest song to place in this whole project. The touristy trip to the Emerald City just doesn’t have an analogue in the story of Three Houses, especially not late in Part 1 when tension is mounting toward the upcoming reveal and war. It took me a while to realize that it works wonderfully as an Edeleth piece: Edelgard invites Byleth to Enbarr for her coronation, but that scene is left offscreen in favor of a light romp through the city that further highlights Edelgard’s crush as well as her emotional immaturity in spite of everything she’s about to do. She just wants to have a fun day out and take in the sights and eat sweets with her beloved teacher, and it’s all very “Edge of Dawn”-esque where Edelgard knows she’s about to do terrible things that will change everything forever and hopes to prolong the time until she has to take that step. Adjustments to the lyrics could even work in reference to that song to make the similarities more apparent. An awkward/funny issue here is that I envision Byleth to be totally silent throughout this musical with no sung or spoken parts, which would naturally make them having a duet impossible and make Edelgard’s fascination with them even weirder. Even their gender should be left ambiguous throughout, somehow never confirmed if it’s m!Byleth or f!Byleth. It would take a lot of reworking, but I can see the value in it.

“A Sentimental Man”

The core of the Wizard’s character is not all that different from Rhea’s. Both were thrust unexpectedly into positions of authority that required them to enact a large-scale deception to maintain their power/safety, and both are driven somewhat by parental feelings. The tone of the Wizard’s songs doesn’t align well with Rhea, but once you cut out the vaudeville and do some rewording I could see this one working as Rhea addressing her child (among other things) Byleth at the Holy Tomb just before the Flame Emperor reveal. Of course the dramatic irony hits differently; Rhea knows who and what Byleth is whereas the Wizard doesn’t learn about Elphaba until the end of the show. Nonetheless this would still establish Rhea’s character and motivations as well as set the stage for the impending betrayal.

“Defying Gravity”

Said betrayal being Byleth’s, who decides to stand by Rhea and condemn Edelgard as the Flame Emperor when she arrives with her army. This is another song in parts that would need to be broken up. Edelgard gets the bulk of it, but the middle sections between Elphaba and Glinda could work as a kind of separated duet with Edelgard and Hubert attempting to convince Byleth and Ferdinand respectively to join them. Because of Byleth’s silence only Ferdinand can reply in song; only he and Edelgard add the “my friend” bit to the end of this segment, to illustrate the unevenness of Edeleth and Ferdibert at this point in the story. Then things turn to full bombast, albeit darker than in Wicked proper. Edelgard does the belting, Hubert’s sinister laughter reverberates below her (would it be too tasteless for him to be leering up her skirt the whole time?), Ferdinand has Glinda’s mournful “I hope you’re happy!” toward Hubert, and through this and the reprise of “No One Mourns the Wicked” the major events of the timeskip are enacted in pantomime or silhouette. Byleth tumbles off a cliff, Rhea is taken captive as is Dimitri but Dedue rushes after him, and Claude makes a tactical retreat. Side note: “And if I’m flying solo, / at least I’m flying free” is classic Edelgard fixating on Byleth and forgetting that Hubert exists.

Act II

“Thank Goodness”

A surprisingly tough one here. The core of the song, pivoting around the double meaning of “I couldn’t be happier,” suits early Part 2 Ferdinand perfectly, second-guessing his choice and, outside of CF, melancholy about fighting his homeland. In terms of plot it’s an easy translation too, with the crowd announcing the terrible things the Empire has been doing to win its war - persecuting believers, abducting civilians and turning them into Demonic beasts, consorting with inhuman shadowy figures who can disguise themselves as ordinary people - and the assembly working as a way to bring together the leads of the three routes: Byleth, Dimitri (who had Dedue always at his side and thus never had a full psychotic break), Claude, and Seteth, with Ferdinand representing the Adrestian resistance. It’s only the wedding announcement that’s hard to pin down, and I toyed with a number of ideas including Dimidue making yet another public declaration of devotion to one another or Ferdinand planning to follow through with his arranged marriage to Bernadetta they have in their supports (which makes more sense in light of the following sequence). In the end though I don’t think the marriage element is strictly necessary, leaving the song as a means of catching up with the cast five years later and seeing them united against Edelgard - with Ferdinand’s private regrets the only sour note.

“Wicked Witch of the East”

More a dialogue than a song, but still important. Bernadetta is arguably the Eagle other than Hubert most comfortable supporting Edelgard, because all Edelgard has to do is put Count Varley under house arrest for Bernadetta to sing the emperor’s praises. I can also see her as the same sort of self-centered, negligent ruler that Nessarose becomes in Wicked, not because of an unrequited attraction but because of her reclusive desire to be left alone. I see this scene playing out as Hubert surprising Bernadetta at her estate, angry about rumors that she may be helping the rebels and/or engaged to Ferdinand if going with that plot point after Edelgard has done her the favor of locking up her father. He’s fully prepared to, ahem, “persuade” Bernadetta, but before he can break out the torture implements Ferdinand arrives asking for her to support the rebels’ cause.

Farcical, sure, but it gets the two of them together again after five years and underscores how strong their UST has become in their time apart, with Hubert too flabbergasted to attack a known enemy and Ferdinand expressing how happy he is to see Hubert again despite everything. Each learns that the other isn’t as happy about his chosen path as he’d hoped, in Hubert’s case because his lady has grown ever more distant from him as the war has dragged on. Bernadetta cuts through the tension by bringing things back to the song (sort of) and blurting out that she knows both sides are marshalling their forces near Gronder Field. Ferdinand is too caught up in the fraught romance angle to do more than leave with this new information, but Hubert recovers enough to condemn Bernadetta for her flagrant misrule (venting by inference his frustrations toward Edelgard in the process) and resolve to set her on fire for her treachery.

“I’m Not That Girl (Reprise)”

The Gronder rematch happened offscreen - and Bernadetta was indeed set on fire - and on the Imperial side Edelgard is left increasingly frustrated over her losses and hurt that Byleth still refuses to listen to her and continues to fight her regime. You may notice that I’ve shuffled around the middle of Act II, necessary at this point in order to better line up with FE16’s story and Hubert and Edelgard’s separate narrative climaxes while also ensuring that those climaxes don’t overlap too much. This song is only a brief reprise, but it’s a significant one; Hubert finally realizes that Edelgard will never love him. It’s also kept gender-neutral, because Byleth.

“As Long as You’re Mine”

That segues naturally into this moment. Ferdinand sneaks into Enbarr using his unexpected stealth powers (I usually talk about Dedue having them, but Ferdinand shows he’s no slouch in his Mercedes supports) and encounters Hubert. Their UST boils over in a furor of awkward, impassioned sex and also this song. I like the idea of rewording some of Fiyero's lines to incorporate Hubert's acidic snark: “Maybe you’re brainless, / maybe you’re wise.” It’s all very desperate and sensual, ending with Ferdinand taking Elphaba’s line about feeling wicked for the first time - which will have a dark reverberation two songs from now.

“Wonderful”

Again, axe the vaudeville and it’s a solid Rhea song. There’s just the small problem of Rhea being captured at this point in the plot; I thought about moving this number toward the very end at first before reconsidering. While Hubert and Ferdinand are rolling in the sheets, a distraught Edelgard confronts Rhea in prison. Rhea responds to Edelgard’s frustrations with Byleth with her backstory in song, much more somber than the Wizard but, like him, still willing to rehabilitate her estranged listener. The bits of this song about the nature of history are especially relevant to what Edelgard falsely believes about the church and what she views as her own legacy, so I could see this as an interesting character study on what Edelgard actually wanted with her war apart from dragon genocide. There’s a lot that could be done here in the dialogue surrounding those revelations.

“No Good Deed”

However the interrogation of Rhea turns out, Edelgard takes a leaf out of SS Dimitri’s book and visits Byleth alone at the monastery, only to be as harshly rebuffed as is possible to be without the rebuffer speaking. Then comes this song, which was incidentally the one where I realized that Edelgard would need a major role in FE16-does-Wicked even with the Ferdibert focus. Hubert fully embraced his evil wickedness long ago and wouldn’t think twice about being wicked or being perceived as such, but Edelgard is a different matter. Here she breaks down, admitting that her good intentions were largely selfish and that she regrets that her war has cost her any relationship she could have had with Byleth (continuing the joke at his expense, Hubert goes unmentioned when Edelgard names the people she’s lost/failed). It ends with a foreshadowing of her Hegemon form, the sign that she’s abandoned all pretense of goodness and become truly wicked.

“March of the Witch Hunters”

Another ensemble/vignette piece, checking in with the various members of Byleth’s army as they prepare to storm Enbarr. Dimitri hopes for the chance to forgive his stepsister, Claude has big plans for the continent and wants to remove the threat Edelgard poses, Seteth is desperate to find Rhea, and Byleth…is there. As in many of the songs, the self-righteousness of the crowd here rings more sincere and less hypocritical than in Wicked given Three Houses has actual villains, but it still works.

“For Good”

The song that inspired this whole thing, now with many paragraphs of context to set it up instead of only some fluff based on the Ferdibert A+ support. Ferdinand sneaks into Enbarr (again) ahead of the battle, and their second love ballad is more somber as they resign themselves to their fates. As in the VA cover, Hubert refuses to ask forgiveness for anything and Ferdinand is fine with that.

“Finale”

Wicked reduces the final battle from The Wizard of Oz to silhouettes backed by sections of “No One Mourns the Wicked,” and that’s what comes here: Ferdinand and Hubert facing each other in battle, Edelgard becoming the Hegemon before being defeated and then dying as in AM’s final cutscene, and Dimitri taking the throne with Dedue at his side and proclaiming his intention to do all he can to restore both the Kingdom and Duscur - and that his first act as king is to announce that he and Dedue have decided to open their marriage up. This is met with much manly cheering and stripping and someone (Ashe?) saying incredulously that he didn’t even know they were married. End silhouettes.

The final scene with the Wizard and Morrible becomes Claude, Seteth, and Byleth rescuing Rhea. Rhea names Byleth her successor as leader of the church and says that she will go into quiet seclusion and do what she can to correct her mistakes. This all suits Claude just fine, who tells everyone that he’s off to take care of some other business and that Byleth will make a great archbishop - and also they can have the Alliance, no big deal. As with the King of Faerghus’s gay orgies, the King of Almyra’s grand ambitions are too large for this story to do more than allude to.

Next, Ferdibert does a version of the Elphaba/Fiyero scene, with Ferdinand revealing that he had Hubert spared on the condition that he help root out any remaining Agarthans and that he remain under house arrest at the Aegir estate. Ferdinand was also required to assume governance of the Empire, because Dimitri wasn’t getting that dumped on him as well. They can be together, but the general population can’t know that Hubert survived lest Ferdinand’s reputation and basic ethics be compromised…which in a darkly funny hypocritical twist then segues to Ferdinand pontificating before the crowd at the beginning of the show, reprising “For Good” with Hubert until they’re drowned out by “No One Mourns the Wicked.” Thus the story concludes on one of my favorite things about Ferdibert: perhaps even in this non-CF continuity Ferdinand wasn’t changed for the better by falling in love with the Most Wicked Man in Fódlan, but they’ve both been changed….

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Ferdibert #Hubert von Vestra #Ferdinand von Aegir

[rpd-rookie]

Under Her Extra-Large Umbrella - Chris Redfield x Reader (PART 1)

Summary: Chris Redfield has always been an honourable man but the things he's seen at Spencer Mansion leave him no choice. He must infiltrate Umbrella's French laboratory, whatever it takes, even if it means manipulating you. But how far he is ready to go?

Author’s Note: This fanfic involves a Post RE1 / Pre-Code Veronica version of Chris Redfield since it focuses on his trip to Europe that is mentioned in RE2. You will probably notice that I used the letter Chris wrote to his S.T.A.R.S. friends. It is actually what inspired this fan fiction in the first place. Gotta be honest with you, this fanfic made me shed blood, sweat and tears. I guess I rewrote it twice before coming to a rather satisfying version and I must have tear my hair out quite a few times when I was struggling with grammar. (BTW, tell me if you see some terrible grammatical mistakes so that I can correct them) Anyway, as usual, I hope you will like it. Please don’t forget to like/reblog and tell me what you think of it in the comment section.

Tags: Romance, Fluff, SMUT, Explicit Language, Manipulation and Treachery. Angst is come ;-)  

Also available on AO3

“Better failing with honour than winning by cheating, son”.           Chris could perfectly remember his father telling him those words. It was in 1990. Chris was a seventeen years old teenager finishing his Junior year, and they were driving back home from driving school right after learning he had failed his theory test contrary to that asshole Colin Monroe who had aced it thanks to a crib cheat hidden in his sock.       He could also remember that his father’s wisdom had barely consoled him on that day - despite what he had let him believe - and that it had taken him quite some time to swallow the bitter pill and even more time to admit that his father was indeed right and that he should live by this motto. Months actually. Plus a tombstone with his parents’ names on it.       Chris never regretted listening to his father. He never regretted promising him that he would do his best to become the man he would have wished him to be. That promise had made him the man he was today. A man who would never stray from the right path however tempting treachery could be. Someone loyal, upright and honourable. Someone his parents would be proud of.

And yet here he was, eight years later, a twenty-five years old cop, breaking the promise he had made his father and doing something so deceitful and selfish it would certainly make him roll over in his grave or wish he were still here to give his son a earful.     But today, it was not something as silly as his driving licence that was at stake. It was the justice he owned to his fellow S.T.A.R.S. members, those he had lost at Spencer Mansion and those waiting for him in Raccoon City. It was the security of god knows how many people. This time, Chris had a burden on his shoulders that was way too heavy for him to accept a possible failure. And as terrible as it sounded, he was ready to do something bad for the greater good, whatever the cost, whatever his dead father may think of him from beyond the grave.

                      “To my bestest S.T.A.R.S. buds,

           How are you all doing in that drab, old station? Hanging in there against old Irons? Me? I just got back from a date with a hot chick. Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella.            Europe is amazing. One month is in no way enough to even scratch the surface. Maybe I’ll extend my vacation for another six months.                Barry, don’t even think of coming join me. Wouldn’t want to make all the cute girls cry, yeah? So you just leave the babes to me.              Jill, if Claire tries to contact you, please let her know I’m OK.”

Chris put down the pen on his nightstand and took a look at his letter one more time with a proud amused smile. He knew that his friends, contrary to Irons, would get the hidden message behind that lame womanizer persona that was so unlike him. And hopefully, maybe the police chief would tell his friends at Umbrella his S.T.A.R.S. poster boy was nothing to worry about and just currently cruising for pussies in Europe.  

“Writing to your friends again?” Chris looked up to see you standing in the doorway to his bedroom. You looked very tired, exhausted even, judging by the dark circles under your beautiful eyes, your loosened bun and the way you were leaning against the framework. “Yeah, to give them a small update on my vacation.” Chris folded the letter and put it in the drawer of his nightstand; not very keen on letting you read it. “Tough day?” “You have no idea.” You dropped your bag at the entrance of Chris’ room and went to fall down on his bed, your head on his crossed legs. “Wanna talk about it?” Chris asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t say much. Professional confidentiality and all. ”         “I didn’t know working for Umbrella was like working for the CIA.” Chris joked, trying to tone down the disgust he was feeling each time he had to pronounce the word Umbrella. You smiled, too tired to laugh and glanced at Chris who was staring at you.            

God, why did you have to be so beautiful and so sweet and yet so not good for him? Why did you have to work for Umbrella? And how did he allow things to be that way between the two of you?

Chris could remember the day he had first seen you, the day he had chosen not be moral and honourable for once in his life.       It was almost a month ago. He had been in Paris for a couple days, trying to find a way to infiltrate Umbrella’s French laboratory, which was even more impenetrable than Zone 51, the lab being a real fortress (with automatic secured doors, CCTVs, guards and a severe ‘no visitor allowed’ policy) only accessible if you were the lucky owner of a white and red badge. And you had happened to be one.       Leaving the lab for lunch break, happy to finally feel the warm sun on your face, it hadn’t been your beautiful [h/c] hair loosely tied back in a high ponytail or your twinkly [e/c] eyes that had caught Chris’ attention (even though yeah he had noticed). No it had been that badge, that stupid badge carelessly hanging from the front pocket of your lab coat. And it had also been that badge that, unfortunately for you, had made him organise a plan to trick you and get his hands on it, that badge that had made you the victim of his very first treachery.  

Your meeting was – unbeknownst to you – the most unnatural meeting ever. Chris had calculated everything. When? Lunch break. Where? The nearby boulangerie where you used to be eating. What to say? “Désolé. Bonjour. Puis-je m’assoir avec vous?” which meant “Sorry. Hi. May I sit with you?” in French of course, because Chris had figured that playing the part of the poor American tourist with a terrible French accent trying to adapt in the city of love would be much more appropriate for the situation.       And it had worked. He had sit at your table, had exchanged a few words with you and had found you surprisingly friendly and adorable for an Umbrella employee.             But of course, as the majority of Chris’ plans, the meeting hadn’t ended up the way he had imagined (meaning him discreetly stealing your badge) simply because of a tiny detail he hadn’t thought of; you had forgotten your badge at the lab, leaving him no choice but to improvise and organise a second meeting that he had dared called a rendez-vous.

And here he was, weeks later, sharing your apartment and occasionally your bed and definitely bogged in a way bigger deceit that the one he had originally planned, one he knew he would not be able to get out easily.     And to answer the question, did Chris manage to get his hands on your badge? Well, yes and it was now safely hidden in his room to be used at the proper moment. If only he could shut his guilt away as well. Things would be much easier.

“What did you do today? Sebastien told me he barely saw you.” Sebastien was your other roommate. A nice redhead guy as well as a curious unstoppable chatterbox. “Oh, nothing interesting. I woke up early to jog at the Bois de Boulogne then I spent the rest of day wandering in the city.” That was half a lie. Yes, he had gone for a run at the Bois de Boulogne but he hadn’t spent the afternoon visiting Paris. No, he had spent his afternoon trying to reach the FBI from a phone booth in order to know if they had some news concerning Irons or the Mansion Incident. Unsuccessfully.           “If you want, we can spend this Saturday together. I’m sure I can show you few places you haven’t seen yet.”           “Aren’t you working this Saturday?” You were always working on Saturdays. “I need a day off to clear my mind a bit.” That didn’t sound like you. You were too much of a workaholic to prefer spending your Saturday playing guide to your American roommate. “Now, consider me worried. What’s up at work?” Chris asked, concerned not only because he knew something terrible could be happening at Umbrella but also because he couldn’t help but caring about you, Umbrella worker or not.         “Those last days have been a bit tough that’s all.” You wouldn’t tell him more. You couldn’t. For so many reasons.     “Well in that case, what do you think about me running you a nice hot bath?” You glanced up at Chris. He had drawn your attention in a very interesting way. “That depends. Will you be with me in that bath?” You asked cheekily.         “Do you want me too?” He smirked and you put your hand on his neck to pull him closer to your face. You pressed your lips softly against his; sighing in this kiss you had been dreaming about all day, as Chris brought you against his broad chest, his strong arms now holding you tight against him. You felt so safe in his embrace and that’s what you needed right now.        

Chris pecked you a couple times before laying one last kiss on your forehead with a tenderness that made you melt in his arms. “I’m gonna go run you that bath, okay?” You nodded. “Join me in ten minutes.”       Needless to say that those ten minutes were the longest you had ever experienced. Probably because they gave you plenty of time to dwell on the things you had experienced today at the lab, the things you had seen, the things you wanted to forget and yet couldn’t.           You got up and grabbed the bag you had left by the door to search for a small notebook that you opened with a desperate sigh. Then, you took the pen on Chris’ nightstand and started scribbling notes and drawings in it. A habit you had taken a few months ago and that somehow helped you from not cracking up.  

You guessed you took more than ten minutes when you heard Chris clear his throat by the door, only wearing a small towel around his wait. Goodness, what a sight.         You quickly closed the notebook as soon as you spotted him and put it back in your bag while he pretended not to notice. “Haven’t you forgotten something, mademoiselle?” He smirked and you giggled. “Have I?”     “Yes. I think there is a naked man waiting for you in the bathroom.” He joked and you approached him with a amused yet cheeky smile. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his muscles against your palm, as you looked up at his face with a mischievous look. “Is he hot?” “Right now, he is very hot.” He confessed, absolutely in the mood to play with you. “Better not keep him waiting, then.” You purred and you put your hand on one of the straps of your summer dress to gently make it slide along your shoulder.     That small sight of your naked skin made Chris hiss and unable to resist the urge to lay a trail of soft warm kisses from your neck down to your shoulder. You could tell the smoothness and the perfume of your skin were driving him crazy as his mouth soon started devouring you and muffled growls began vibrating in his throat.     His calloused hands roamed down your back, making you instinctively move your hips closer to his crotch, and he unzipped your dress. It dropped at your feet revealing your body that Chris gazed at with his brown eyes darkened by desire. They lingered on your breasts and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to touch them. He loved them too much for that. And so, his hands cupped them and his thumbs brushed your hard nipples. “Gosh, Y/N.” He breathing in, trying to calm his heart pounding in his chest “I can’t wait any longer.” Chris suddenly grabbed you and hoisted you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, which made you yelp.     Nevertheless, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, making his towel fall to the floor. “Oops. That was not voluntary.” You giggled. So did he. “Right.” And he rushed towards the bathroom, with you in his arms, his lips devouring yours in a hasty burning kiss on the way.

He set you up on the double washstand and quickly locked the door behind him, giving you a brief view of his divine firm behind, though you liked the front as much if not more right now. “What are you looking at like that?” He smirked. Well, his chiselled chest, his carved abs and that big hard cock. What a silly question! But you couldn’t say that and so instead you urged Chris to come closer to you, spreading your legs to welcome him between them.   He obeyed but instead of giving you that lustful hug and passionate kiss you were expecting, he crouched in between your legs and remove your panties, kissing your smooth legs, from thighs to feet, as he did. You clearly knew where that would eventually lead but you moaned anyway when you felt Chris put your legs on his shoulders and burry his face in between your thighs. “I told you I’d help you relax.”         “What about the hot bath?” You tilted your head towards the bubble bath he had run for you few minutes ago.     “Oh don’t worry, we’re getting there. But first you know how much I like licking your pussy.” He winked and his tongue lapped your slit up to your clit without waiting another second. A loud moan escaped your mouth as Chris sucked your bud loudly, pulling it between his lips, and he looked up at you with a proud smirk before focusing his attention back on your pussy.     He was good, very good even, way better than any other men you had ever been with. He knew exactly how to please you. He knew where the tip of tongue had to swirl to make you shiver, knew the right spot to suck to make you moan and when to add his fingers to make you cry out his name - which was right now by the way. “Oh my god, Chris!” You mewled loudly as you felt one of his fingers entering you, his mouth still eating your pussy up. Your legs instinctively clenched around your lover’s head while one of your hand found its way in his short hair. Then you heard Chris hum in between your thighs as he kept on licking you and fucking you with his finger, adding one more in the process. You pulled his hair back, forcing him to look at you. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me now.” Chris complied and, after his tongue slid one last time in between your lips, he stood up to catch your lips in a new passionate kiss, making you taste your juices on his expert tongue. You could feel his cock against you, hard and slightly throbbing already, showing how impatient and aroused he was.       “Enter that bath, quick.” He ordered with a deep voice that made you shake against his body.

You obeyed and gladly let your burning body sink in the bubbly water, the lukewarm water cooling you off a bit (which wasn’t a bad thing). You were soon followed by Chris who entered the bath with a brutal eagerness that made the water waved a bit too much around both your bodies. “Don’t flood the apartment.” You giggled as you spread your legs to make him a place in the tub. “I can’t promise you that.” He confessed amused, as he grabbed his length in his hand to jerk it off a bit and guide it towards your begging entrance waiting for him under the water. He tickled your swollen clit with his tip before entire you almost smoothly making you draw a sharp breath.         “Damn, you’re so tight.” Chris growled as he took hold of the edge of the bathtub above your head to push himself deeper inside of you, enjoying your wet walls around his cock. “You’re fucking big, you mean.” You said with a painful hiss that brutally calmed his ardour and made him consider immediately pulling out of you. “Sorry. Am I hurting you?” He worried, aware his girth needed get some getting used to and afraid that he hadn’t given you enough. “No, no. It’s okay. Just give me sec.” You cleared your throat and adjusted yourself underneath Chris, spreading your lips with your fingers to welcome him the way you both desired. Hard, big and rough. “Okay. Good now.”           “You sure?” He asked, definitely not willing to hurt you. You nodded and pressed your lips against him to show him how much you wanted him right now. He got the message and started moving inside of you, slowly yet deeply for now.

You dug your nails in his biceps and started moaning; taking delight in feeling him going in and out of you. It was just the most divine sensation in the world. He filled you so perfectly. “Chris. Please. Faster.” You begged.             He complied and started pounding you more quickly, hands still on the edge of the tub, towering you with his muscular body to assert his dominance over you the way you liked it. But it wasn’t enough for you and so you wrapped your legs around him forcing him to go balls deep inside of you. Chris smirked, loving your initiative. “You like it deep and rough, baby?” You cried out.   “I didn’t hear you”   “Yeeess.” You whimpered with small tears in your eyes. He hammered you harder, spilling water on the bathroom floor, and you clenched your walls around him. “Oh god!” You yelled, out of breath.

He was relentless, so strong, so fast, so deep you could hear his body slam against your skin and echo the splashes of the waves in the tub. “Come here.” He lay on his back and urged you to come and straddle him. And so you climbed on top of him, admiring how handsome he was underneath you. “Guide me into you.” You did as he said and directed his throbbing cock to your wanting pussy, welcoming him again inside your wetness, Hands pressed against his pectorals, you immediately started undulating on top of him, feeling the pleasure coming back in your lower stomach.         “That’s it. Keep going.” He whispered, gazing at you.

Chris’ hands crawled up your body to reach your breasts and play with them a bit, delicately pinching your pointy nipples, as you kept riding him. You knew he loved groping them and you also knew how much he loved them in his mouth as well. Therefore you decided to bent over him a bit, just enough for his face to reach your chest, holding on to the wall in front of you with one hand to keep your balance. Chris smiled, understanding perfectly your little game, and pulled one of your tits to his mouth to catch one nipple between his lips and suck it greedily.       It was apparently very pleasurable for him (even maybe more than it was for you, and it was a lot) since he started humming and growling loudly. You enjoyed hearing and seeing him like this very much, so much you stopped riding him to focus on this spectacle.            

It didn’t last long though as you soon felt you lover’s strong hands gripping your ass to make you bounce on his cock again. “I so want to cum, baby. Please make us both cum.” His words made you shiver of excitement and you locked your lips with his as you started rolling your hips onto him again.       But it was certainly not enough for Chris since after few seconds he suddenly grabbed your hips to slam deep in your pussy and relentlessly pound you from underneath. You screamed his name and hold on tight to him. He was very rough, so rough you could barely breathe, but you didn’t mind at all.     Soon, you felt your face become so red and your bundle of nerves become atrociously sensitive. You knew you were ready to explode. “Chris. I’m gonna cum.” He put his hand on your clit to stimulate it and help you reach your release, his cock hammering you even harder than before.       You clenched your pussy around his throbbing cock, making him groan because of how tighter you suddenly were. “Tell me I can cum in you, baby.” He asked, panting. He was very close too. “Yes, cum in me.” You didn’t need to say it twice as Chris immediately growled in your ear, slowed his pace, and spread his cum in your pussy with a last animalistic grunt as you came undone on top of him, yelling his name, your powerful orgasm almost knocking you out.

You collapsed on him, incapable of remaining straight. “Wow. That was something.” He chuckled, exhausted and out of breath, and so did you.             “You’re okay?” You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows. What a ridiculous question. “No, I’m being serious, Y/N. Wasn’t I a bit too rough?” He asked.       “You were perfect.” You admitted before kissing him tenderly.           “AND SO FUCKING LOUD!!!” You heard shouting from behind the wall. You both looked in the direction of the noise, understanding that your roommate had probably heard everything but despite the embarrassment you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Poor Sebastien.       “Why don’t we get out of that bath and cuddle a bit in bed? The water is getting cold.” Chris offered.   “I’d like that very much.” You smiled and managed to leave the tub, using the little energy you had left in your sore body.            

As you dried yourself, you saw Chris head towards the door with a towel draped around his waist. “Where are you going?” You asked.   “Taking some briefs in my room. See you in your room in a minute?” He smiled and you nodded, impatient to spend the night in his arms. “Can you bring me back my clothes and my bag while you’re at it?”           “Sure.”

Chris closed the door behind him and headed towards his room where he put on some clean underwear and picked up your stuff as you had asked. But the moment he grabbed your bag and caught a glimpse of the black notebook he had previously seen you inside, he knew he would probably not join you as soon as he had told you.         He watched it first, hesitant, knowing perfectly well that what he had in mind right now was very bad. It was one thing to steal a badge, but spying on you, that was going too far. “No, Chris. No.” He whispered to himself. And yet, he grasped the notebook and opened it.   It was a diary of some sort judging by the numerous dates he noticed as he quickly leafed through it. And if it was a diary then it was indeed very private, intimate even, certainly not his to read. He thought about putting it back in your bag for a second, but what if something valuable to his investigation was inside that notebook?         “Argh, fuck.” He cursed as he went to the first page.

“May, 14th 1998

Today made me regret the time I was just the intern bringing Professor Rochois his morning espresso. Umbrella is asking more and more of me, and the pressure they put on us workers is driving me insane. But what’s worse is that I’ve got the impression they are not telling us everything, especially concerning the experience the seasoned scientists are conducting in the north wing. But I guess I’ll soon have answers to my questions since Professor Rochois said that he was genuinely impressed by my devotion and was thinking of promoting me.”

Chris frowned, apprehension knotting his stomach. That didn’t sound good at all. He needed to learn more about that even if the moment was far from convenient. You could show up anytime and catch him red-handed.         He turned a few more pages, rapidly skimming through some notes he would definitely read another day, until he spotted a weird drawing of some octopus-like creature. What the hell was that thing?

“June, 7th 1998

The NE-a parasite. A parasitic species indented to retain intelligence. It has been developed by Umbrella Europe for years. At first I thought it was just a revolutionary way to cure brain damage. After all, that’s how it had been advertised to me. But the more I study it, the more I believe Umbrella may be up to something else other than treating brain injuries or Alzheimer. I don’t know what and I’m not even sure I want to know.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. His body was shaking and he could feel fear eating him up and he started imagining terrible things.   What if you were involved in the Spencer Mansion incident? No, no. You couldn’t be. And yet, Chris decided to have a look had the entries you wrote in July. He needed to reassure himself. One immediately drew his attention.

“July, 28th 1998

My superiors have been quite on edge lately, something to do with an incident that happened with the American branch of Umbrella from what I overheard. I don’t know what it is though, but I’m sure it must be pretty big because they doubled down security in the lab. The team and I have the impression we are living in a 1984 remake. The CCTVs are always recording and I sometimes have the strange sensation I’m being permanently spied on, even in the locker room. Maybe they have doubts about me because of the many questions I often ask about Project Nemesis.”

Project Nemesis? Y/N, what the hell were you working on in that lab?

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #resident evil #fanfic #under her large umbrella #re2 remake inspired fan fiction

[docexe-mx]

Hola, no sé si alguien ya te ha hecho esta pregunta, pero ¿por qué elegiste NaruHina sobre otros barcos? Como NaruSaku, ¿dónde es más explícito que Naruto está enamorado de Sakura y que ella comienza a devolver sentimientos, o SasuNaru, donde tienen un vínculo más grande y más establecido?

Translated to English:

Hello, I don’t know if somebody has already asked you this, but why did you choose NaruHina over other ships*? Like NaruSaku, where is more explicit that Naruto is in love with Sakura and that she is starting to return his feelings, or SasuNaru, where they have a bigger and more established bond?

Subsequent asks:

Do you believe that Naruto had a bond with Hinata? If so, how would you prove it?

Why is it difficult for people to understand that stating that Naruto cared about Hinata doesn't deny what he had with Team 7? Or why is it difficult for NH fans to accept that Naruto's first ties were to Team 7?

* As an aside, I feel the need to point out that the Spanish version of the first question used Google Translate so the term “ships” (derived from the word “relationships”, and used in fandom parlance to refer to fan preferred romantic relationships) is translated literally to Spanish, that is: “ships” = “boats” = “barcos”. The thing is, we Spanish speakers don’t use the term “ships” when referring to fan-preferred romantic relationships, and a proper equivalent term doesn’t really exist in Spanish (or at least, not as far as I know, you never know what neologisms will come from the Internet after all). So, we simply refer to them as “parejas” (that is “pairings” or “couples”).

That clarification aside, I stated before I was going to reply to these asks, so here we are. Very belated reply, but I spent most of October and November swamped with work and hadn’t had the time or energy to reply before, especially as I ended extending myself and essentially composed an essay.

So, without further ado, the reply is below the cut. I ended composing it in English as the subsequent asks came in English, so I presumed whoever send the questions was more proficient in that language. I put it below the cut for the benefit of whoever doesn’t want to read my shipping rants:

Regarding why I chose to ship NaruHina over other ships, to put it simply, I just found NaruHina’s dynamic and relationship far more endearing.

At the core, NH is a very tender love story: Two kids who suffer from being looked down and rejected (him by most of the village, her by most of her family), ultimately find mutual support and love on each other. Specifically, I found that the scenes both of them have together during the Chunin Exams arc carried a lot of emotional torque, and those scenes made me fall in love with the couple. Those scenes are also the ones that I would use to establish the bond between Naruto and Hinata, because yes, I do think they have a bond, and is a bond we see blossom as the manga progresses even if (admittedly) is not a bond that receives a lot of focus.

He starts as a snotty and troublemaking brat, the worst student in his class and the village pariah (and a pariah for reasons that are not his fault and were absolutely beyond his control). But in spite of all his mistakes, he never surrenders and persists on making reality his impossible dream, no matter what everyone else says. His courage and determination end catching the eye of this quiet, timid girl, who is rejected by her family due to her lack of strength. Her admiration for him inspires her to become braver and stronger, and in the process she adopts his nindo (“I’ll never go back on my word”). Ultimately, said admiration also ends blossoming into love.

At the third Chunin Exam, after seeing Neji trying to demolish Hinata’s confidence with cruel words (cruel words that ring far too close to home for him), Naruto cheers on her, which motivates her to confront her fears and battle Neji in spite of her cousin surpassing her in skills by far. Hinata’s courage and determination during the fight end impressing Naruto in spite of her defeat. Neji’s brutality also motivates him to avenge her honor (and with a blood vow, no less), as he feels kinship with her.

Before the fight with Neji at the quarter finals, Naruto feels down as his opponent is really strong and, in spite of all his training, he is not sure that he can actually defeat him. By chance he ends running into Hinata. She thanks him for cheering on her previously and muses that she is finally starting to change a little and likes herself more now. At her words of gratitude, Naruto drops the bravado and turns sincere with her, revealing that in spite of his boasting, he doesn’t think a “failure” like him who is always making mistakes can defeat a genius like Neji.

In response, Hinata proceeds to encourage him, stating that what she admires of him is not that he is perfect, but rather that in spite of making mistakes and failing he has the ability to rise and try again. She considers said ability true strength, hence why she considers him a very strong person, or a “proud failure” as she calls it (and incidentally, this is another detail that makes the ship endearing to me: Hinata is among the first few people who sees beyond Naruto’s flaws and realizes his true worth). Her words end cutting deep into Naruto (just the way he looks at her completely wide eyed shows how much she affects him) and help him to recover his determination. He leaves to face Neji but not before thanking her, stating that while at first he considered her a weird and plain girl, she is actually “a person [he] truly like[s]”.

Later during the fight, after Neji explains the tragedy of his past and the reason for his fatalist outlook on life and destiny, among his rebuttals of said outlook Naruto calls Neji out for his treatment of Hinata, pointing out that Hinata also suffered like him yet still was desperately trying to change her own fate (thus showing us that Naruto also understood Hinata’s plight). Finally, after the fight and Naruto’s victory, his first thoughts while basking on the audience ovations are (at least in the manga): “Where is Hinata? Did she saw that?” (Of course, Hinata is unconscious at this point due to her prior injuries acting up when she saw Neji injuring Naruto, but that’s a bit beside the point).

As you can see, in that entire sequence of events mentioned above is shown that they end forming a bond in their mutual understanding and support of each other, as well as in their shared nindo. It’s not a bond that receives a lot of focus later in the story, admittedly, but it’s still there and later developments in the manga don’t really negate it. Indeed, we end seeing a couple of actually significant story events that ultimately reinforce it. 

I’m talking of course of Pain’s invasion of Konoha (when, while trying to save him from Pain, Hinata confesses her love to Naruto, explaining how he inspired her to change and become better, then Naruto goes straight to Six Tails in rage after watching her being injured by the villain) and the battle between the Shinobi Alliance versus the “Uchiha Sith Lords” and the Juubi (when, after seeing Neji die in battle while protecting him, Naruto is about to surrender to Obito’s rhetoric due to failing to protect his friends, yet Hinata stops him and encourages him again, helping him recover his fighting spirit while telling him that his feelings for his friends were not a lie and pleading him to not let Neji’s death be in vain). Both scenes also have a lot (and I mean, A LOT) of emotional torque, and reinforce the theme of mutual understanding and support that runs in the ship. On the whole, it’s a really positive bond, as it essentially drives both characters to uplift each other.

Now, while there is some of that NaruHina dynamic (“mutual understanding and support of each other”) in the other two ships that you mention (NaruSaku and SasuNaru), there are also things regarding their respective dynamics in the canon that make them… well, far too troubling for my personal taste.

In the case of Naruto and Sakura, their relationship dynamic (especially in the anime adaptation) resembles a lot the typical “Tsundere” dynamic that you see in a lot of manga and anime: A protagonist who has a crush or is in love with a girl with a bad temper, with said girl always punching him out every time he tries to woo her (or otherwise does something stupid or perverted in front of her), although she gradually warms up to him as time passes. I have to clarify that, strictly speaking, I’m not really against that kind of relationship dynamic in anime and manga (indeed, I like a few ships in other series that have that kind of dynamic). However, in the case of Naruto and Sakura, I find that dynamic pretty troubling, primarily due to Naruto’s backstory, hence why I never shipped them in a romantic sense (although I must add that I do like their relationship at a platonic level, as they do have a couple of pretty tender scenes together).

I might also clarify (pertaining to how you phrased your question) that while Sakura does warm up to Naruto as time passes and starts considering him a good friend, in the manga it’s never explicitly show at all that she starts to return his feelings. At most it’s only briefly implied during the early arcs of part II, but the “fake confession” scene during the Iron Country arc essentially throws the possibility by the wayside.

As to Naruto and Sasuke… well, first it’s important to recognize that the manga’s author never intended their relationship to be seen in a romantic way, but rather as a sibling-like relationship. Of course, that doesn’t negate that their bond is central to the storyline, neither that it receives a lot of focus for most of the manga and it also has scenes with a lot of emotional torque. All of that inevitably leads to shippers pairing them together in a romantic way, regardless of what the author’s intentions were.

That being said, while there is also a theme of mutual understanding in their bond of brotherhood and rivalry that also drives them to uplift each other, the problem is that… well, to put it bluntly, their relationship becomes extraordinarily toxic for a pretty big chunk of the story. I mean, seriously: For most of part II of the manga (and most of Shippuden in the anime), Sasuke becomes a massive cretin and jerkass that treats his loved ones (including Naruto) like garbage, causing them a lot of emotional pain and strife. Sasuke also tries to murder his closest friend in multiple occasions and Naruto literally has to give an arm in exchange before the Uchiha finally has a moral epiphany and decides to change his ways. Given Naruto’s backstory, once again I find that dynamic extremely troubling and distasteful, hence why I’m not fan of pairing them in a romantic way.

(I might probably also add that it’s because of the above paragraph why I’m not really fan of SasuSaku either. I have made my peace with that pairing mostly because Sarada is one of my favorite characters in Boruto).

As to your final question… well, I can’t speak for everyone in the fandom neither want to make any generalizations, but from what I have seen around online, it seems to mostly boil down to classic fandom rivalry.

Naruto ran for almost 15 years with the characters locked in a messy love dodecahedron that the author didn’t intend to resolve until the very last second. During that time the different fandom factions that formed around every ship obviously came to blows, with rivalries and grudges forming. The net result is that a lot of people in the fandom have become extremely hyper-defensive regarding their preferred ships, with some people often overstating the importance of certain bonds while simultaneously minimizing other bonds. You certainly see it happen in all the shipping fandoms: There are some NaruHina fans that minimize the importance of Team 7 bonds with Naruto, as well as some fans of ships involving members of Team 7 who take issue with the notion of Hinata also having a bond with Naruto.

It doesn’t help that some fans (usually very young ones) have a very… well, “immature” understanding of love and relationships: Falling in love with someone shouldn’t mean that suddenly all your other relationships become “lesser”. Thus, the fact that Naruto fell in love with Hinata in the canon of the series doesn’t mean that his bonds with his team mates, friends and teachers no longer matter. On contraire, all of them are important in different ways.

#naruto #naruhina #shipping #analysis #fandom #fandom criticism

[natsubeatsrock]

10 Things I Enjoyed in 2020 that Aren’t Fairy Tail

Well... it’s almost over? With all the crazy stuff that’s happened this year, it’s hard to remember that there were some good things to come from this year. So instead of 7, here’s 10 things I enjoyed throughout this year.

#10. Sonic the Hedgehog

Not unlike many people, this would be the last film that came out this year I would see in theaters before everything shut down earlier this year. While I have gone out to watch movies throughout this year since, this happens to be the only movie I’ve been looking forward to that came out this year. Since the release of Detective Pikachu last year, the fraught history of video game movies has started to look a lot better. For all intents and purposes, I think this film is better than that one, and I’m a much bigger fan of Pokemon than Sonic. If certain spoilers are a sign of anything, a future sequel will be interesting to see and greatly anticipated.

#9. Pokemon Ranger: Shadows of Almia

One of the blessings-in-disguise of being locked down with extra money is the ability to get and enjoy things you haven’t gotten the opportunity to before. In my case, I was able to play through some of the Pokemon games I’ve been waiting to play through. My favorite of the bunch has been the second installment of the Pokemon Ranger series. The Ranger games have been greatly underrated and overlooked by fans. I was reintroduced to the original last Christmas and believe it to be a solid game, but this easily blows it out of the water. While this year also marked the sad end of the 3DS cycle, I’m glad that this game came my way.

#8. 42

With the unfortunate passing of its lead actor, Chadwick Boseman, and the racial tensions which came to a head after the death of George Floyd, it makes sense theaters would reopen with this movie. Jackie Robinson’s story is one that’s interested me as the talks of integration and racism have gone on this year. He became the first African American MLB player because of both his talent on the field and his character off it. He wasn’t just skilled in stealing bases. He didn’t allow the anger he rightly felt towards racism control him.

#7. Bakuman

The famed writer and artist duo behind Death Note teamed up to deliver another smash hit manga for Weekly Shonen Jump. This time, about... a writer and artist duo who team up to make a name for themselves by delivering a smash hit manga to Weekly Shonen Jump. As I read Bakuman, I was struck with the genius of its construction. It’s one thing to read the information about Shueisha and WSJ this series shares in a book. It’s another for that information to be shared within the confines that the series itself describes. Special shout-outs go to Ayakashi Triangle and Phantom Seer which started in WSJ this year.

#6. Power Girl: Power Trip

Oh? Were you perhaps expecting to see some other female character owned by Detective Comics Comics who graced the silver screen take this spot? Well, maybe next year, depending on how things go. I love my comic book heroes with healthy doses of snark and existential crisis. While I might have gone in expecting the former, I wasn’t expecting the latter as much. If you know about Power Girl, you may know about her famous “boob window“, which is in lieu of a real symbol. It turns out that she was originally thought to be Superman’s cousin, but has recently been proven to be otherwise. I’m not so against DC that I’m unwilling to admit when they make books that I like.

#5. Carole and Tuesday

Carole and Tuesday holds a special spot as becoming the latest 10/10 anime I’ve seen. This is easily one of the most diverse anime that I’ve ever seen. It’s not just a matter of showing people of different walks of life, ethnicities, and sexual orientations. It’s also showing artists different music styles from folk to jazz to rap to electronic to new age to operatic rap. And none of it feels forced or unnatural, though some of it might come off as offensive. If you’re on as big a planet as Mars, you’ll expect to see all kinds of people and hear all kinds of music as long as you’re willing to listen. Shinichiro Wantanabe is one of anime’s best directors and this might be his best work yet.

#4. Lupin III: The First

If you told me a few years ago that one of the best anime movies would be a fully CGI film, I would have looked at you like you were insane. Nevertheless, this movie exists. I was skeptical about the idea of a fully CGI movie for a character like this. But when I saw a clip from the movie, I could tell they knew what they were doing. This movie is by no means anywhere as good looking as Spiderverse, but it looks amazing in its own right. Content wise, this serves as a great heist film for anyone regardless of proximity to the series. Arsene Lupin III makes  It makes a fine introduction to the world of one of anime’s most longstanding series, and a good launching point for his earlier antics. Props to Weathering to You for keeping this slot warm. (Ironic considering things...)

#3. John Byrne’s run on Sensational She-Hulk

So I wasn’t going to say this talking about Power Trip, but I need to say this here. American comics are at a weird spot. In attempts to reach a wider audience, they’re not doing a great job of keeping the fans they have. Or make actually new ones. The current run of Savage She-Hulk has been no exception to this. Though it wasn’t always like this and John Byrne’s runs on Sensational She-Hulk is proof positive. Byrne took Jennifer Walters with more fun than I’ve seen any author write any comic book with. This especially shows in one of the more notable abilities of She-Hulk, breaking the fourth wall. I was very worried when I heard Marvel Studios was going to do a series with Shulkie. But with this as inspiration, maybe there’s hope for this project after all. (Please be good!)

#2. Burn the Witch

Tite Kubo is back, baby! This spot doesn’t go to any of the sets of chapters to be published in Shonen Jump. Rather, his collaboration with Studio Colorido is my choice for anime of the year. Burn the Witch tells the story of a different Soul Society than Bleach fans may be familiar with. It’s almost cheating to compare this mid-length film to the other shows to come out this year, even if it was broken up into three episodes for streaming sites. However, film or otherwise, no other anime grabbed my attention as much as this did. This also marks the best anime from WSJ I’ve seen this year. Surely I’m not forgetting anything big to come out recently in saying this, especially from this year with everything that got delayed. Honorable mentions go to TONIKAWA: Under the Moon, Bofuri, BNA, Keep Your Hands off Eizouken!, and Misfit of Demon King Academy for nearly taking my spot.

#1. Skullgirls

This year has been a tough year for a lot of people, companies, and fandoms. Though, I’d be hard pressed to think of a fandom that has had a worse year than this indie fighter. One of its founders was revealed to be terrible, one of its parent companies went under, and a prime opportunity for the spotlight in EVO Online being cancelled, it wouldn’t be a mistake to say things aren’t going well. Thankfully, the fans and dev team have done everything they can to keep this game alive before and that didn’t stop this year. It feels somewhat on-brand for this series to have survived the kinds of situations that would normally kill a game off. This game would have made the top spot by virtue of being the most fun game I played this year. I’m proud to put it at this spot knowing everything that’s surrounded it this year.

For extra honorable mentions, Pokemon’s seventh generation of games, especially the Ultra versions, were fun to finally experience and they have the best stories of the 3DS era of Pokemon. Cobra Kai was a fun series and almost definitely would be here if I were more emotionally attached to the Karate Kid series. I rewatched Neon Genesis Evangelion and it’s better than I remembered originally. Finally, I’d move heaven and earth to add Oregairu or Hilda on this list, considering new seasons came out this year, but I know better.

As usual, check my list for EZ, which also has 10 things, and be glad we’re almost done with this year. See you!

[randombtsprincessa]

Adulation

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Taehyung x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 24.8k

Genre: Angst/Smut

Summary: Your Actor Charge seems to have a gigantic crush on you. When a blast from the past hit you both, will you stay? Or will you leave?

Warning: Mentions of Sexual Harrassment, Taehyung is a hot jerk, Pool Make Out, Reader is kind of a jerk too, Sasaeng activity, jealousy, drunk fighting, Dom! Reader (Kinda), Sub! Tae (Kinda), Mild Nipple Play (Male Receiving), Fingering, Protected Sex, Sexual themes.

A/N: I know, I’m sorry.

A loud blare went through the night, shrill and ear piercing, making the huddled up and covered figure jolt in bed. Your quiet cocoon shivered before groaning, a hand appearing from an opening in the burrow and feeling about for the infernal device.

The moment your fingers brushed the case, you yanked it inside the darkness enveloping you. the sound of wires pulling away and the charger dropping to the crowded nightstand made you grunt again but you could care less at the moment as you swiped at the accept option without opening your eyes completely.

The person on the other side of the line started talking immediately; not even waiting for you to say ‘hello’ and the sharp panic in the voice only made you wince; trying to crawl away from it.

“Stop, stop, stop…! I am not getting in a word of what you’re saying and I have no idea who you are so if you don’t take it down a notch and start from the top I’m hanging up and turning my damn phone off.” You snapped, knowing fully you couldn’t do anything like that.

The voice took a deep breath and sighed.

“It’s me, and I did it. Today, right now, I just submitted the letter and I am, for lack of a better word, fucked.”

You sighed, discerning your friend’s voice and pushed yourself towards more consciousness.

“What happened?” you asked, pulling a hand down your face.

“Ok, so I went up to the man and handed in my notice and he read through it – he actually read through it – and then tells me that I can’t quit because there’s a clause in our contract that basically means the previous manager can’t quit unless he finds another and he hasn’t found another and so I can’t leave.”

“How did you not know this clause?” you asked.

“I don’t know! I was so hyped about leaving I didn’t talk to his lawyers.”

“Mil,” you sighed, and she returned it equally.

“I know, I know what you’re going to say but please, you need to help me,” she begged.

“What can I possibly do?” you asked, horror creeping through to you at the thought of whatever it was she was going to ask you to do.

“Please, it’s only for a few days till he finds someone, till then I just need you to fill in for me. You know I can’t let this new job go…I mean it’s Minho for God’s sake! I’ll do anything.”

You glanced at the digital clock next to you. 2:13, the brilliant letters told you and you shook you head. It was too early for this.

“I don’t do temp jobs anymore, Mil. Those days are long gone. Besides I’m on vacation. I just started a day ago; I cannot just start a new job out of nowhere…especially temporarily.”

“I know, Y/N, I know, I just…oh come on, this is a once in a lifetime thing for both of us. If you work with him, you can work with anyone and his name on your resume is going to make it stellar.”

“I already have a stellar resume. I don’t need to add his name to it. You’re going to have to ask someone else.” You said; about to pull away from the conversation, ready to sleep again.

“Consider this a favor then, I’ll owe you. Take him on permanently. Both of you will be a whole lot better for it and who knows, you might just put him straight and enjoy doing it. Plus it’s you, you have a glowing reputation and he’d be a bigger idiot than he is to let you go. He’d even let you set the terms.” Your friend said finally.

You could tell it was a last desperate attempt and even though your better judgment told you to tell her no and hang up, your sleep deprived state was looking for ways to make this conversation end as soon as possible. You didn’t know if Mil was going to just give up and you didn’t look forward to having this one again.

“Fine, I’ll do it but it has to be all in the way I want it, ok?” you said, gritting your teeth at having to wake up at a reasonable hour again but you heard the distinct relief in hers.

“Oh my god, thank you, Y/N! Yes, he’ll play nice, I promise. You won’t regret it, I swear.” She said.

I already do, you thought grimly.

Even as the line went dead and you were left to ponder about either going to bed or getting some work done now that you were going to be employed again you smacked your head with the heel of your palm.

“What did you just do, you fool?” you griped at yourself.

Working within the circles of celebrities and the upper elite had always been your forte, given your skills of talking someone into doing stuff and eloquent manner. It had been your calling and you loved it.

You had worked from the very bottom the moment you’d left university, taking the experience you’d had being TAs and applying it to manage and acting as secretary to lower and upper socialites.

You had been successful in proving yourself, working your way up the ladder of the elite, from low level CEOs and COOs to high level corporate owners.

Your resume was filled with credentials and financial help from the very best and slowly, the Entertainment Industry started to set their eyes on you, hiring you to work their PR and to manage their celebrities and artists.

It had taken a while, but now you had the financial means and street name to take and own your clientele.

And it was a very impressive clientele, ranging from professional Entertainment company owners to famous artists. Your last client, Kim Jennie had hired you to manage her entire American tour and it had pulled off spectacularly. Grateful and leaving with a good bond, she’d offered you a nice long vacation period and you’d accepted generously.

You’d now have to deposit the money in the bank, you decided, your brain categorizing your work now that you had some to do again.

You loved your work, no denying it, since it kept you within the world of the stars but there was always the exhaustion and dealing with things that put many a dark circles under your eyes.

Deciding to forego sleep for the time being and adding it to the contract you’d draw up; you pushed away the blankets, reaching for the laptop on the other side of the bed.

Yes, the other side of your king sized bed was taken up by the only significant other you had in your life right now; work. It was the mark of how you lived in opulence by working your ass off.

An hour on the laptop later, the money you’d earned from Jennie and the vacation pay off were safely in your growing bank account and after signing off at various charities that you supported, you’d turned to searching for the name you were going to work for next: Kim Taehyung.

You had heard of him of course, everyone had.

Kim Taehyung was an extremely established person in the world of the performing arts. He was an actor, model, singer, photographer and painter. He was basically an all rounder in the entertainment world and his company, Big Hit raked in tons of money from his endeavors alone.

He ranked on the list of richest men and the most handsome faces every year, not to mention he was the supreme dream boat, wet dream to the collective female population of the world.

He was too good to be true to be very honest.

But you…you were privy to the news from the underbelly of the entertainment world and yes, you knew for a fact that he was too good to be true.

Kim Taehyung was absolutely filthy and you weren’t talking about his money or looks.

From what the whispering mouths of his staff relayed to their friends and they relayed to their friends, Kim Taehyung was a serial womanizer, flirted with anything that moved and was the epitome of an inappropriate spoiled brat.

That told you everything you needed to know about people like him: talent wasn’t shit if the package was rotten.

And you were about to be employed to him…

If you were a masochist, you’d agree with Mil and enjoy being employed by a giant douche, but you could already see the massive amount of control you’d have to have over the contract and the man himself. Reeling him in would be cheaper than the damage control he did probably.

You lingered on a particular picture of him, maybe by a fan cam in which he was just turning, giving a glorious view of his profile, chiseled and drool worthy.

You idly wondered how many pregnancy scares and blackmail he handled on the daily basis then shuddered, putting the thought away until you had to be the one doing it for him.

Basically Kim Taehyung was Tony Stark before Iron Man and Pepper Potts.

You were not happy at that prospect at all.

The marble flooring of the halls of Big Hit echoed the sounds of your footsteps way too loud for your sleep deprived ears as you marched your way down to the main office for the contract negotiation.

You were dressed as austerely as possible, your outfit reminiscent of a funeral but you did not want to encourage any nonsense from the lawyers.

If the man was as bad as rumors denoted, you had to be very cautious in what the lawyers tried to lure you in. you planned to be the one with the higher hand in every key of the contract and you weren’t going to take no for an answer.

Your hand reached out for the steel handle to the double doors and you pushed it open, sticking your head around the corner.

To your relief, your lawyer was already present inside, staring out the glass windows. At the other side of the long pale wood table sat two more suited men, one flipping through a black folder and another murmuring to the first one. They looked up at your entrance and the cursory frown vanished from their faces.

“Ah, you must be Miss Y/L/N,” the first stood up, making your lawyer turn to look at you too.

Park Chanyeol walked over to you, hand emerging from his pocket to encase yours.

“Y/N,” he said warmly and you returned the handshake, smiling up at him.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that call, huh?” You asked.

“Well, you’re my friend before my client and although I wish you would take some time off, I can’t deny your workaholic self pays my bills.” He chuckled before lowering his voice. “Still, I wasn’t expecting this.” he said.

“Blame it on too much stress and not enough rest.” You returned, eyeing the men watching you two.

“You’re only going to get more stress with this one.” He warned.

“That’s why you’re here.” you told him, dropping his hand to finally face Big Hit’s lawyer.

“Hello, my name is Y/N Y/L/N,” You said, forwarding your hand to shake theirs and the other man took it first, looking at you curiously.

“You’re quite young, if you don’t mind me saying so. When we got your references, I pictured you older.” He said.

“Yes, I get that a lot but trust me; I probably look older than I am. The type of work I do tends to do that to you.” you said, shrugging.

“I’m sure it does,” the man laughed. “I’m Bang Sihyuk, owner and CEO of Big Hit Entertainment.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” you said, looking at the other man who took your hand next.

“Park Jinyoung, pleasure’s all mine, and what exactly would you say you do?” he asked.

You flashed him a wide grin, glad he wanted to get to the point fast. “Everything that is needed to be done,” you replied.

A flash of confusion passed his face and he glanced at his boss before gesturing for us to take the chairs.

“I’m a little confused. I thought you were a manager.” He said, pulling out a pen and clicking it open.

Chanyeol took the seat beside me as we faced them.

“That’s correct. My primary work function is of a manager but I do more than just managerial duties. I’ve broadened a few of my horizons and now I can also assist, handle public relations, the image of a person and assorted media duties.” You said, watching him raise his eyebrows, making a small note in the folder.

“Provided it is only one person, she is not going to offer more services if more than one party are involved.” Chanyeol put in quickly and Jinyoung nodded.

“Naturally,”

“Miss Y/L/N, as I have it, you are the replacement Mil is offering in return for giving her notice, as a forward on her clause of duties? To be honest, you’re a little over qualified to be working a temporary job.” Jinyoung said.

“I’m not going to work a temp job. I will take the job of permanent staff for the contractual period.” You explained and both men exchanged looks.

“I have the initial draw of the contract my client wishes to present.” Chanyeol indicated the folder in front of Jinyoung who nodded reading through it again.

“Most of the keys benefit you,” he shot at you and I smiled at sweetly as I could.

“Well, I was supposed to be on vacation and I’m doing this as a favor especially for a man who is known for being troublesome.” You leant back in your seat. Jinyoung opened his mouth but Sihyuk made a motion.

“That’s acceptable; we could use someone of your caliber in this position. I just hope you can handle it.” Sihyuk sighed and I immediately knew that Taehyung was more than a handful.

And speaking of the devil…

The doors flung open and a loud cry of ‘Please, Mr. Kim!’ announced the arrival of Kim Taehyung himself.

“Hey people!”

You turned to get the first in person look at Kim Taehyung and you had to say, you were pretty freaking impressed.

The tall dark haired man, his sleek built emphasized by the expensive sweater and jeans would’ve been enough to catch eyes but the face was where your eyes stopped.

You could’ve spent hours describing Kim Taehyung but you decided to categorize his face in one department: Fucking Gorgeous.  

He grinned widely, a boxy smile revealing teeth as he beamed good naturedly at the group of people collected in the room and for a second you doubted everything you’d ever heard about the man. Surely this beautiful angel of a man with that childlike smile and twinkle in his eyes couldn’t be as devilish as the tabloids and his own staff bemoaned.

“I heard you were getting me a new babysitter and I couldn’t sit this one out. The last one left me high and dry.”

The doubts cleared from your mind like someone wiped them over with a wet cloth and your lips pursed at the blatant innuendo. You knew that Mil was definitely a woman of honor and wouldn’t have encouraged any sexual harassment. So, that rested your mind that Kim wouldn’t be used to something like that but with that face you knew he got enough sex.

Mr. Sihyuk winced loudly and gave you an apologetic look.

“Taehyung, this is Y/N Y/L/N, she has agreed to take you on a client in Mil’s absence.” He introduced and Taehyung swung around to look at you.

You watched him blankly as he took you from head to toe, clicking his tongue once.

“She’s pretty but eh,” he loudly whispered to Jinyoung, making your eyes flit to him in reflex and to maybe also see his reaction to understand if you were going to be cornered against Kim Taehyung.

If that was the case, with everyone taking the corner of their Golden Child and ganging up on you, you were glad that Taehyung had shown up. This would give you a feel for your colleagues and you’d walk away with zero hesitation, saving yourself and the people working for you, like Chanyeol some major headache.

Jinyoung for his part only looked away from Taehyung, choosing to instead flip through your contract and avoid everyone’s gaze.

There was a pause in which everyone waited for a reaction, something to explode maybe, for the ball to drop.

Taehyung was blatantly grinning at his CEO who looked uncomfortable and both lawyers looked away from everyone, Chanyeol already looking like he wanted to be dead asleep while you chose to simply watch Taehyung.

His stance was easy as if he’d been in this position tons of time, CEO in the room and people’s discomfort choking the air. He was obviously spoilt by everyone because even though nobody wanted to say it out loud, he paid everyone’s bills in the company and lorded over the fact that he was their most important piece, the other artists simply pawns on the chessboard.

He was basically one of the sons of your earlier powerful bosses, who seemed to think they had some right over you because you worked for their fathers. Well, he was only… ‘More’…

So, if that’s how he wanted to play this…

“If you’re looking for the sexual harassment clause it’s at the very end.” You spoke up, arms resting gently on the chair handle and legs crossed, leaning back easily to display a position of power, of detachment.

Mr. Sihyuk immediately spluttered, Jinyoung sighed and Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t usually put one of those in a first draft contract, I usually feel out the place and people before going to that but I’m sure you’ll understand why I made an exception in this case.” You said.

Mr. Sihyuk was already opening his mouth to protest but I ran over him, turning to Taehyung instead.

“You just made my foresight worth the time, Mr. Kim.”

“Miss Y/L/N, I assure you,” Mr. Sihyuk began but this time it was Taehyung who cut him off.

“Calling someone pretty is inappropriate now?” he asked.

“Certainly not, but whatever else you had in mind definitely would’ve been. This just ensures that we both keep our minds on work.”

You turned to look at Chanyeol.

“I think we have what we need.” You said and he nodded, swiping the drafted copy from under Jinyoung’s fingers.

“I can have the final contract done and ready to sign by both parties by the end of the week.” He said.

You looked at Bang Sihyuk who glanced back at Jinyoung and then nodded.

“That works for us. Welcome to Big Hit, Y/N.” he said.

You nodded and were about to turn to Chanyeol to leave when a hand forwarded itself into your line of sight. You followed it to see your prospective charge, eyeing you with a decided gleam in his eye.

“I’m going to enjoy working with you, Miss Y/L/N.” he said, his voice dripping with courtesy.

You stared at him for a full half minute before taking his hand in a grip that was harder than necessary. “I look forward to it.” you grinned, revealing your teeth just as he had done and you swore you saw his eyes briefly flash to your mouth, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he pulled away.

“Y/N,” Chanyeol said and you nodded, following him as he opened the door for you, letting you out of the conference room.

You could feel Kim Taehyung’s eyes boring into the back of your head but you could only smirk.

If that’s how he wanted to play this…you were game.

The loud cheering from the arena perforated the concrete walls of the stage building, letting everyone hear the craze that Big Hit’s concerts generated in – what was the number? – Thousands of people, maybe even millions…

You picked up your phone to check the time, wincing at the horrifying hour and then reminded yourself that in a few minutes Taehyung would be on the stage and you would have some time to at least make a coffee run.

Your contract had been that of the lowest possible time period, since you were one of the most sought after Managers in the industry, your demand had risen till it had started to stress you out, forcing you to increase your time period working for one person or company at a time. Before you were with one job for just two years minimum but not you stayed for five years.

This allowed you a lot of time to get comfortable with your work and employer and also let you earn enough to give you some time off for at least a month or so.

However now that you were tied to Big Hit and Kim Taehyung for five years, it seemed that Taehyung was hell bent on making those five years as nerve racking and ragged for you as possible.

He made you come for him during hellish hours of the night and morning, just because he wanted supplies that he left or forgot and he got struck with inspiration.

He had stupid demands as to his diets and drinks and you’d caught him devouring a whole fried chicken bucket when he’d sent you to get him a cherry tomato salad. On confronting, he’d mocked you on how you’d been too late.

It had taken you a few weeks to figure out a pattern for Taehyung’s seemingly unpredictable antics and whims.

You started to be more prepared and kept anything and everything that he could ask for close at hand, foodstuffs, drinks, etc. when he called you about wanting supplies for his art, you happily told him you stocked up his house full of those and then hung up on him. He’d stopped calling after a few weeks of that. If he wanted to ruin his outfits ‘accidentally’ and wanted the exact outfit, you always had a replica and if he tried to frighten a poor stylist into changing his outfit at the very last minute, you stepped in almost harshly, crushing his dreams of seeing the girl squeak in fear.

Now after six months, he was still as annoying, spoilt, and bratty and showed zero change in attitude but you’d learned to grit your teeth and grin and just handle it, quickly and swiftly detracting his idiosyncrasies and phases. You still got sick and tired of him but he’d learned to mellow down nowadays, quietly agreeing to what you told him and not throwing as many tantrums as he used to.

A few girls from the staff had complimented you on your iron fist on the wild man but you knew better.

Taehyung was still flirty, teasing, and touchy to a limit that just drew the line at your clause of sexual harassment and that glint you’d caught in his eye that first day never dimmed whenever he set his eyes on you, followed by a boxy grin that was still reminiscent of an adorable child’s.

No, Kim Taehyung was a caged tiger and he was just looking for a way to escape your iron fist.

You sighed when the crowd cheering increased, almost shaking the foundations of the building, which meant that Taehyung had made it to the stage.

Sure enough, you heard his deep bass voice calling for a louder cheer and the usual babble of ‘I can’t hear you’ and ‘you can do betters’.

“Hey, Y/N,” you looked up with a tired smile at one of the other managers of the singers with Big Hit.

“You look like hell, you should go home.” She said, concerned.

“Oh, I’ll just get a coffee,” you waved it away but she just shook her head.

“No, no, you look almost dead on your feet and I know Taehyung is more than two handfuls. You go on home now, I’ll take care of everything here.” she said.

“It’s Taehyung,” You reminded her pointedly and she gave you a grim smile which showed that she knew exactly what she going into.

“I know that but if you fall ill then we’ll have to deal with him longer. Just take some downtime and get back soon. He’s a lot more amenable when you’re around and he won’t be as good a boy with you sick or gone too long.” She said.

You stared at her to see if she meant what she was saying before rubbing your eyes and nodding.

“You’re sure?” You asked one last time.

“Yes! Go girl, and hurry back,” she said and without another word you grabbed your bags and hurried out, the work car Big Hit had given you for privacy and protection already waiting for you at the front door.

You nodded at the driver’s question about heading home and shot a text to Taehyung’s phone, notifying him that you were leaving and that you weren’t feeling up to more work tonight.

You just hoped he would understand although you didn’t let yourself hope too much.

So imagine your surprise when you managed to spend an entire night with no calls from Kim Taehyung and his unreasonable demands. All except a somewhat grumpy message telling you to take the weekend off but show up at his place first thing on the next work day.

“…And to the most courageous person we know, a toast to honor her patience!”

Your head turned as one of your friends made a loud crowing call, the table you were sitting at with your friends in your favorite club rearing with supportive cheers as they all raised their glasses.

As per Taehyung’s text, you had taken a whole of two days off, an invitation from all your very busy and hard working friends to join them for long overdue drinks being the only thing that dragged you out of your bed.

You laughed as Chanyeol and Mil let out loud cries of ‘Hear, hear!’ and banged their fists on the table.

“Hats off to you, babe, I would not know how to handle him for five fucking years!” Jae told you.

“It’s the lowest number of years I have to work, you guys!” You returned.

“Doesn’t matter; anyone who willingly signs up with Kim Taehyung is a saint!” Mil said, immediately getting hushed by your more sober friends.

His name ringing outside would get your band of friends’ attention you didn’t want and would also lead to an article that could get you all kicked out.

“So, Y/N, what’s your secret, yoga?” Jae continued.

“Nope, I just learnt how to manage him.” You winked for their benefit and the buzzed crowd erupted again.

“Aww, sounds like someone has a wee little soft spot for their new manager.” One of the girls teased Mil who scoffed.

“Honestly, I don’t mind him having a crush on Y/N, as long as he doesn’t make me get up at 2 AM just to get him a fucking berry smoothie.” Mil shuddered amid sympathetic noises.

“Y/N, what would you do if he did have soft spot for you?” Chanyeol wiggled his eyebrows, teasing you about the spectacle Taehyung had created during your first meeting.

“Does it matter? I need money, not boys. I think I can work something.” You replied.

“Be careful though, he’s a vindictive jackass. Do you know one of his stylists once told him blue wouldn’t be a good color on him and he dyed his hair blue! He did it, literally out of the blue!” Mil said.

“I saw those pictures, he looked good,” Jae said.

There was a pause in which everyone turned to look at Jae who looked up from his glass at us then shrugged. “What, the dude may be an ass but he’s also got a great ass. You’d have to be blind and dumb to not want yourself a piece of that.” He said.

There was another, longer pause as people considered what he just said then shrugged too, picking up their glasses to swig at them.

“Well, he’s not wrong.” One of your friends mumbled, making Mil choke and splutter.

“Excuse you, no, no he’s wrong! You do not want to be anywhere near that, no matter how hot he is. Trust me, as someone who’s been through all his dirty fucking laundry, he’s got some very bad shit going on with himself.”

“Does he not have a dick?” Chanyeol asked, making Mil grimace at him.

“No, that he does, I’m just saying he’s not very concerned with what and who he sticks it in.” Mil said.

“Aww, Mil, don’t judge a guy for having sex.” Jae groaned.

“The woman turned out to be a Sasaeng who had stalked him before. He was too drunk to recognize her and when he woke up next to her in the morning he made me come over to make her leave because she wouldn’t. She hit me and left a bruise and also stole a few of his clothes. We had to track her and bury the issue. It took me weeks.” Mil said, anger slurring her words as she glared at Jae so hard he cowered.

She turned to me.

“He hasn’t done Sasaengs in a while now but still, he’s the worst dick you could want in you. I won’t say he’s a walking STD, but,” she shrugged as if that was exactly what she was saying.

Your friends took a minute to process this before a girl beside Jae piped up.

“I heard he wasn’t always that bad.” She said, swirling the glass in her hand as she nervously spoke up.

Mil looked at her as if she was going to say something but then nodded.

“One of my seniors was a supervisor to the current Head Stylist of Big Hit and when a lot of scandals with Taehyung dropped I heard her talking about how he was a lot better when he was a trainee.” The girl continued before looking up, cheeks reddening.

“I heard her talking about the woman who scouted him and then ruined him.”

You clinked your nails against the tip of your glass, already wondering if you were going to regret hearing this, but you were too enthralled, too interested in the underlying notes of your boss to care.

The girl stopped, perhaps for effect and the taps of your nails hardened, waiting impatiently for her to speak up.

“Has anyone heard of Yubin?”

For a second, a brief vision of a tall, beautiful woman rose up in your brain, too vague and distorted from years of unheard from absence.

People exchanged looks before Mil rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I knew Yubin, just as she retired.”

“She didn’t retire. She just stopped working.” The girl countered.

“Nobody cares, what of her?” Jae cut in.

“Well, she’s from Daegu, right, that was where she found Taehyung. She was appearing at her university and met him and brought him to Seoul to train. I don’t know when or how they must’ve started dating but once they did, he started to become moody and reserved. Soon enough they announced that they were dating and I think Taehyung was close to proposing but they broke up and she disappeared. Apparently it broke him. So he went off on a long, long bender and came back with this whole persona.”

Your clinking stopped as you went over the information, trying to match it from any article you might’ve read. This was all still back when you were in the business circles and didn’t keep up much with the entertainment side of life.

“Now Taehyung is the biggest star there is and she’s nowhere to be found.” The girl finished.

You dropped your gaze to the table, realizing you had been just made privy to information about your boss that he might not want you to know, something private from a older colleague of Taehyung had just been passed around as Over the Table gossip.

“Well, guys, it’s time for me to go, I’m supposed to start work and I’d rather not go in to him with a hangover.”

“Don’t be surprised if he has one too,” Mil said, standing up to hug you as you passed through goodnights and ‘see you later’ from the rest of the table.

You groaned with relief as you pulled off your heeled boots, flopping down into the plush of your couch and leaning your head back, eyes closed as you rolled your feet to work out the tension from having been in the death traps you wore.

Your mind was screaming at the thought of having to turn up at Taehyung’s penthouse in the morning but this was what you had signed up for.

Wondering what terror he has planned for you for taking time off, you removed what was left of your make up and showered.

The ding of your phone on the counter notified you of a text and you hurriedly exited, wrapping yourself in a towel and checking it.

The appearance of Taehyung’s face on the screen, made you gasp, pulling away and tightening your grip on the towel, thinking he’d video called you. It wasn’t until you noticed the play button on the tip of his nose that you realized it was a video message.

Grumbling at the scare, you pressed it, watching Taehyung as he adjusted himself in bed, hair tousled and cheeks flushed. Your first thought was whether he’d sent you a post jacking off video accidentally until he opened his mouth, the familiar grin and wicked glint filling his eyes as he finally turned his attention to the camera of the phone.

I hope you had a good weekend, Miss Y/L/N. I expect you to come for me bright and early tomorrow.

You raised your eyebrows as he paused unnecessarily after ‘come for me’ and rolled your eyes as he ended the video with a wink and bite of him lips, the screen darkening with a replay sign on it that you ignored.

Was it really a persona? Or had fame finally made its way to Kim Taehyung’s mind and it was a fantasy of women who wanted to ‘fix’ him?

Maybe you’d never know.

As expected of you, the next morning you arrived at Taehyung’s palatial building with a very mild throb in your head that you were sure would go away with a little TLC.

Flashing your ID at the front desk, you waited for the elevator to ding at Taehyung’s floor, your head idly lying against the cool metal, wondering what you were going to be greeted with it when you set foot on his granite flooring.

The image of Taehyung with mussed hair and swollen lips certainly made you wonder if he had been alone or even if he was then what he had been doing, a thought that you had jolted yourself out of in horror. Shaking your head like a dog, you a straightened as the ding in the metal box indicated you were where you had to be.

You poked your head out, looking around to see the spacious first floor seemingly empty and stepped out.

“Mr. Kim, it’s me,” you called.

Walking with an almost relieved sigh to his seating, you dumped the bags you were carrying onto the couches.

At first thought, anyone would think that Taehyung’s house would be cool and chic like how he acted or if the people who he interacted with had to guess, it would be something out of the Fifty Shades setting. However, you had been pleasantly surprised to see that Taehyung’s personal space was very homey and cozy, decorated tastefully in equal measures of colors, austere, wood, metal and stone.

The living room had floor to ceiling windows that depicted a stunning profile of the Seoul skyline and often times that you’d been there with him droning on you’d found yourself gazing out of them, soaking in the sight that your windows, though decent and well paid for, were unable to offer you.

You were well off and doing damn good, you just weren’t there yet to purchase a pent house, so this was your closest best bet.

“I know,” you heard him say from behind you and turned, immediately freezing to see him walk downstairs, in a loose set of tracks and his torso bare.

“Good…morning,” you said, looking over his shoulder, waiting for his conquest of the night to come downstairs but it wasn’t until he’d reached the bottom stairs and walked over to you, visage similar to the video he’d sent that you realized that he’d come alone.

“Waiting for someone?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as well.

Busted…

“Is there someone I should be waiting for? Or rather, be prepared for…?” you countered and Taehyung smirked.

“I would like to see that, how you prepare for one of my one night stands.” He replied, taking a step closer and you rolled your eyes, feeling the throb in your head increase.

Great that was a no go for that TLC.

“Unless you bring home some psycho who I have to sue then you won’t be seeing much.” you said, about to turn around before pausing.

“Have you even taken a shower?” you asked.

Taehyung gave you a level look. “I haven’t slept with anyone, Y/N.” he said, voice grumbling again and you shrugged, digging around in one of the bags for his fresh laundry. You tossed him a clean white shirt.

For his part, Taehyung looked equal parts amused and annoyed with you as usual as you sat in your spot, where you could watch the view clearly before pulling out your phone.

“Any particular reason why you called me in so early…? You know, aside from bringing you your laundry, because delivery costs you so much.”

“Delivery people aren’t nearly as cute as you,” Taehyung teased, a quirk to his thinner upper lip that you didn’t deign to acknowledge. “I’ve got an invitation. It’s for the Film Festival. I’m sure Big Hit would tell you to take care of it anyway but I wanted to let you know about the details. I don’t want you to screw anything up.”

You gave him a venomous smile.

“As you wish, Mr. Kim,”

Your employer looked dubiously at you for a long while before shrugging, seating himself opposite you and pushing a docket of pamphlets at you. Spying the name Film Fest on it you carefully began to arrange them, studying each paper with a keen gaze and making notes in your phone about changes or payments that you were sure you needed to have done.

The Film Festival was one of the big events in the entertainment world, picking exotic or picturesque locations to invite local and international stars to grace its carpets, screenings and preview nights one of the candies offered while the earnings off of the event itself could feed a large family for a year.

It was mega huge to be invited, and of course Kim Taehyung would be on the list.

Taehyung lounged in the armchair opposite you, eyeing you with interest, watching you work for him.

“How have you been?” he asked suddenly.

Your attention diverted for a second, fingers pausing in their busy work of noting down important information as you shot him a puzzled look.

“Your health, you were sick.” He clarified

A delicate snort rose up to your lips but you quelled it in the last minute, instead choosing to shrug your shoulders as you returned to the papers in your hands.

“I’m fine now,” you said quietly, finally closing you notes app and shuffling the sheets so they would stay in a proper sequence.

“What happened to you?” he demanded next.

“I work, Mr. Kim, I get tired. I needed a little time off. You were generous to provide that, thank you.” you said, wondering if he could sense the underlying tones of sarcasm to your voice but if he did he didn’t give much of an indication.

“Well, I suppose there’s a clause about overworking you in that damn contract of yours.” Taehyung’s upper lip curled ever so slightly and while you’d have taken offense to the derogatory tone, you instead chose to grin.

“I’m glad to see you at least hold something for law, Mr. Kim.” You commented.

Taehyung’s curled lips furled even further, his eyes dropping to your mouth blatantly as he contemplated how to answer for the fact that he’d had a lot of brushes with the law than most celebrities had to.

“You should call me by my name more often. Don’t call me Mr. Kim, it feels weird.” He said instead.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Your staff calls you Mr. Kim,” you reminded him and he waves his hand to dismiss it.

“They don’t see me every day; they don’t have access to me 24/7. You…do, and you take care of more of my shit than they do. I guess that means you deserve to get some added bonuses.” He leans his head back to look at you as you slowly ran your eyes over his frame.

Six months of close contact with him had very nearly made you privy to almost all his looks ranging from Stage Taehyung to Screen Taehyung to Shit Taehyung. For all his good points, he had about twice the bad ones but even with this info lodged firmly inside your brain you couldn’t stop yourself from checking him out occasionally.

You couldn’t help yourself.

It wasn’t a lie that Kim Taehyung was probably the most beautiful, the hottest man to ever step foot on the planet and if he was going to be a douche most of the time the least he could do was be eye candy for the female population that worked for him.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to walk through your work place and over hear some girl who was freshly inducted, moan about wanting him to do things to her that would curl cheese. Then there were the women who’d been around a while and wanted nothing more than to fuck him for all the frustration he caused them.

You prided yourself on not falling in either of the categories.

You weren’t a newbie who wanted Taehyung to pin you to the nearest wall and have his way with you and you also weren’t the older women who gossiped at the coffee station about wanting to get fucked by him just because his piss off behaviors grated your motors.

Instead, if anything, you kept your mind on just how good he looked.

If late night imagination had to be blamed, you wanted him to decorate your floor, begging forgiveness and atoning for being a grade ‘A’ bastard.

Even now, with the way his body almost sprawled over the expensive faux leather covering of his couch, his eyes watching yours rake over him, taking in the bulges, dips and curves of his body, you would rather only stare from a distance than ever get physically involved.

Nope, late night imaginations would be what you left it at.

“I know that if looks could kill, you wouldn’t ever need a gun but darling that is definitely not the way to do it.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, reflecting the dark pools fixed on you till you finally straightened your posture, slipping the sheets into their respective folders and standing up, grabbing your purse.

Taehyung didn’t stand with you, choosing to gloss his eyes up your body with a blatantly hungry look on his face that you ignored.

It was only because he wasn’t getting laid with whatever he found crawling in the streets ever since you’d become his manager.

“If that would be all, Taehyung, I’ll leave now. You can come to the office to finalize the details of the itinerary and other matters. I’ll see you there.” You said, walking around him to get to the elevator.

You weren’t expecting him to follow you but when the elevator dinged its arrival and you entered, turning to face the front again, you found Taehyung standing right there, hands deep in the pockets of his sweatpants, a subtle smirk gracing his lips.

“Oh, you’ll see me, Y/N.” he said.

You blinked at him in confusion as he reached in, pressing the button to the lower level and pulled back, twirling his fingers in a goodbye, accompanying it with a ducky kiss face and a smarmy wink.

The doors closed, the mirrored walls, showing you the blank look on your face. It took you a second but you finally let the scoff that had been building inside you out, echoing in the metal box.

You’d just allowed your boss to successfully flirt with you, you scolded yourself.

Ah relax, it’s not like you encouraged him or lead him on. He’s just frustrated and maybe even lonely. It’s just horny male hormones. You reasoned with yourself.

In the mirror, you met your eyes with pursed lips, giving yourself a small nod as you set your reasons within stone.

He was just horny.

He was just horny and trying to mess with you.

You told yourself that you weren’t taken in by his antics. Nope, nothing like that at all but even as you entered your workplace amid new rumors; you had to digress to listening to a few of those.

As much as you liked to keep your work clean of these things, even you had to learn to make friends for a smoother run of time.

Of course, being the centre of those rumors was what bothered you.

Conversation ceased when you entered the break room, your eyes flitting towards the suddenly flushing girls as you walked to the deluxe coffee machine, starting it on the job of pouring out some delicious coffee.

The gazes of the whispering interns bored at you, making you wince in irritation as you walked to the group of stylists you hung out with.

“Hyelim, any idea why the glossy eyed dames over there are eyeing me?” you asked straightforwardly.

The five girls made space for you to sit on the couch as Hyelim rolled her eyes.

“Don’t be so concerned about that. These girls almost always have something to gossip over.” She waved a hand dismissively but Jay-eon interrupted.

“It’s because of Taehyung, of course!” she said.

You sighed. “What did he do now?”

“Nothing personally bad, but his actions were pretty…obvious, the day of the show.” She mumbled.

You waited as they exchanged meaningful glances.

“Taehyung was pretty…antsy, when he came back off the stage and you weren’t there. When Leda told him that you weren’t feeling well and went home, he mellowed. That’s sparked some flints.”

“What kind of flints?” you asked; already dreading the answer.

“That Taehyung likes you,” Hyelim answered and you immediately snorted.

“Oh please, nothing like that is remotely possible, especially since if Taehyung is making my life hell, I’m repaying him the favor equally.” You laughed.

However, even as you conducted the Festival meeting, feeling Taehyung’s more than lustful gaze landing on you more often than not, you had to shake that thought off, reminding yourself of the conclusion you’d reached in his elevator.

“You want to visit family?” you asked, following the tall man out of the back door of the entrance, quickly making it to the front of him and looking around to check whether anybody was lurking out there or not.

Taehyung chuckled as you put a hand up to his chest to block him, head turning around. Pressing your hand closer to his, he nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me this at your place?” you demanded.

“Because if I had,” he paused when you wrenched your hand from under his, pouting, “You’d have found some way to counter it,” he finished.

His BMW rounded the corner and you both sighed in relief as the driver quickly opened the door for you two. Letting him go ahead, you shut the door as the driver pulled out of the alley.

“I’m not a cold hearted bitch, Mr. Kim. I wouldn’t get in the way of you seeing your family.” you told him.

Taehyung didn’t comment on it the whole way as you made it to his building.

“Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, half to himself.

You decided to ignore the quiver in his voice.

“Just tell me ahead of time so I can make better plans, ok? You springing that out in the middle of the meeting did no one any good.” You said.

Taehyung shrugged before opening his door.

“Take the car for today. You can bring it to the airport with the driver tomorrow. Oh and, pack something hot.” He said, winking and your expression turned sour as he gave you the same blow-kiss again, shutting the door blatantly in your face.

You let out an irritated gruff.

“What an ass,” you said out loud, only realizing that it was Taehyung’s driver in the car, not yours. You shot him a wide-eyed sheepish look as his eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. He gave you a sympathetic grin which had you sagging back into your seat.

“Your home, ma’am?” he asked and you muttered a ‘yes, please,’ turning to look out of the window, wondering what was going to happen tomorrow.

All was set.

You stared around your now spotless home, critical of the way you’d cleaned and packed up your essentials in your luggage set, you went to pick up your phone to check the time.

You had awoken well ahead of the time you needed to, laying awake in bed for a few minutes to see if you would get back to sleep again. At failure to do that, you decided to start on early.

Showering, taking care of bodily needs and beauty, you made a nice, wholesome breakfast even though one would be served on Big Hit’s private jet. Tasting spice content off your thumb, you’d rung up Taehyung and Taehyung’s driver as an impromptu wakeup call, before focusing on the chicken mince and eggs, you’d made for yourself.

At 8 sharp, with your luggage placed near the door, you’d spent an hour cleaning, dusting off the curtains and scrubbing the kitchen, just for the sake of the relief of coming back to a neat and tidy house when Taehyung’s driver had called you saying he was waiting downstairs.

Your flat heeled boots carried you to the gates of the terminal Big Hit used for its jet when you heard the gasping and sudden uproar.

Pushing your glasses closer, you squinted at the massive crowd, groaning internally when you felt your employer push himself to a faster pace, walking closer to his fans, the screaming doubling in noise as he reached over the security borders to grab a few hands while the other signed autographs.

You lingered behind, an eye on your watch as the seconds ticked away.

It wasn’t until he had given ten minutes of attention to the galore of girls and boys who would, in different circumstances, be paying through the nose for this chance that you nodded at his bodyguard to bring him back over to you.

The arrival of the Pilot, who gave you a warm handshake and introduced you to the air stewardesses and stewards, was a blessing as Taehyung, with a final wave to his fans moved after you to the ramp of the plane.

You had been inside a few private jets in your life, some business mogul or the other needing to take you with them to an abroad meeting or some such other thing.

However, you had to admit that Big Hit’s jet, by far, won hands down.

The inside was a startling white, with cream and dark brown fittings. There was a small fireplace in the corner near the entrance, the counter curving to show off a discreet bar.

The small walkway was dotted with a few small tables, the biggest one, and right at the back, surrounded by a circular couch. You chose to sit in one of the double seats, your purse dropped into the side seat as you watched the runway from the oval windows.

After a few minutes, Taehyung followed, huge shades covering his face as his lips quirked at the sight of the inside.

“Ah, I hope they stocked up.” He said, head turning to the bar when you stopped paying him any attention, instead looking at the Pilot who walked in.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Kim, we’ve had your luggage brought to the jet. Would you want it in with you or would you like us to put it in the storage?” he asked respectfully.

You looked at Taehyung who grinned at the man.

“Have it brought here, buddy,” he said and the Pilot bowed again before exiting.

For a few minutes as you watched the trolley of luggage being carried up, Taehyung chose to raid the bar, going around to the tender’s place and reading through the labels.

“You know drinks?” you asked, suspiciously as he pulled out a few bottles, inspecting them closely. Taehyung glanced once over at you before turning back.

“I might have some ideas.” He muttered.

You stared at his back, tight muscles covered by the expensive jacket, dark hair brushing his nape. A split second view of his hair wrapped around your fingers made you look away quickly to the stewardess who entered.

“We’re ready for takeoff, Ma’am, please take your seats.” She said.

You sat down, complying with the order, and both sets of eyes went to the man who continued to stand.

“Um, sir, we’re taking off. Please take a seat and fasten your seat belts.” She said again.

You looked at the girl to see flushed cheeks, a wistful, yearning look in her eyes and nearly face palmed yourself. Great, another one of Taehyung’s conquests…

“Taehyung, please sit, we have a schedule to keep.” You snapped out.

The stewardess jumped at your tone and looked down as the man himself turned to raise his eyebrows at you. “Don’t you want a drink?” he asked innocently.

“You can make whatever you want once in the air. Now sit,” you sighed.

Taehyung clicked his tongue, reluctantly shoving the bottles back and exiting the bar, walking over to the seats without casting a single glance at the other female in the area who wilted at his ignorance.

You kept staring at her, not noticing Taehyung reach for the bag you’d placed next to you and drop it to the seat behind you, plopping down beside you.

You flinched just barely as the stewardess went through the safety instructions, seeing as you were travelling with them for the first time. Her voice was mellow, quiet and neither of you paid any attention to her as she scurried away finally to her own seat as the plane began to taxi.

The next hour of the flight after takeoff was spent in reading from your tablet as Taehyung fluttered about the jet. He mixed a few drinks which he offered to you.

Peering up at him, you sipped delicately at one, finding it decent but refused a second one, making Taehyung sag a tiny little as he meandered about.

“What about my staff?” he asked suddenly.

“The festival management is providing your lodging and a select branch of staff. Outfits, stylists and media will all be funded from their side. You only need to go and be there to look pretty. I’m coming because I’m your manager.” You answered mechanically, answers ready to spout off.

“I…I can’t stay at home?” he asked again.

“No, aside from the fact that it will cause security problems, it will also be tedious for your family to have a gaggle of people show up at your place every day.” You answered again.

Taehyung fiddled with another bottle for a second before coming back to drop down next to you, jolting your arm. You gave him a look, crossing your legs and tilting your body away to protect some of your private space that Taehyung’s broad frame now occupied.

He sighed, playing with his clothes, twiddling his thumbs. It was clear there was something weighing on his mind but you made no move to put him at ease, resolutely poring over the news article.

“God, stop,” you whined at length as he continued to jump his leg, bumping it against your ankle.

“I wanted to…you know, say thank you,” he blurted out, making you pause and your eyebrows to jump up at the exclamation.

“What for?” you asked.

“You…uh, you let me go see my family.” he explained but you didn’t change your expression, prodding him to go further.

He took the bait, looking down at his knees as he played Thumb War with himself.

“I don’t really get to see them. Very rarely, since either I’m busy or you know…security reasons,” he pursed his lips a little. “Most of the managers tried to get out of the hectic work that involved me getting some time off just to see my folks. So they never let me go plus the company always has something for me to do.” He shrugged before looking up at me.

“I miss them a lot and I hate it more than I let on. So…thank you,” he said.

You blinked before nodding.

“Like I said, I’m not going to stop you from seeing you family, Mr. Kim. Everyone needs that.” You said.

“Exactly, that’s why I said so in the meeting. I realized that if anybody could pull it off, it would be you. I trust you.” He gave you his patent boxy grin, causing a questionable swoop in your stomach.

“Right,” you said weakly.

“I’ll go take a nap, in the room. Feel free to join me if you want.” He laughed a little and took off.

Somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel disgusted by the innuendo.

Your arrival to Daegu airport was wrought with extra caffeine and a still sleepy Taehyung.

For anyone asking, sleepy Taehyung was overly snuggly – a trait you found endearing if not a little mind wracking as he managed to clutch on to you the whole way from the runway to the departure portal.

“Mr. Shin?” you questioned as the man with the stern façade approached you.

“Yes, you must be Miss Y/L/N,” he said, shaking your hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” he said.

“Thank you, do you have somewhere I could stash him at?” you asked, tired and exhausted at hauling your charge. He easily had ten inches on you.

Shin looked at Taehyung who even with his shades on, yawned large and wide.

“Yes, please, right here,” he flourished an arm to the side at the range rover and opened the door, letting you push him in first.

“You have to check in at the hotel first, before going to his house, Y/N. That way we can keep up appearances.” He said to you, voice low.

“What is something wrong?” you asked.

“Apparently, Taehyung’s plan of visiting family leaked out. We’ve had word from a lot of questionable people and media hovering near the hotel.” He said.

You groaned, rubbing a hand down your face in anger and defeat.

“We’ll handle it as well as we can. You just have to be careful.” He warned.

Nodding to the man, you climbed in after your boss as the car pulled out into the drive way.

Shin led you through the opulent entrance hall of the six-star hotel, where the festival was going to hold its gala and had booked rooms for its attendees.

It was unnecessary to say you were exhausted as fuck, the few minutes of nap grabbed in the car doing nothing to help as the caffeine you’d consumed slowly left your system.

Once at the reception counter, the crisply suited concierge intercepted you, annoyingly bright grin fixed on his face as he bowed to you. You bent at your waist as much as your stiff body would allow as Shin lowered his voice and began to speak to the man, eyes furtively looking about in case anybody would be listening in.

Shin finally beckoned you and Taehyung to the front. Your boss, who had dropped the shades and donned a face mask that hid everything but his eyes, began to fill out your information in both the hotel book and a special form that let the festival in charge know that you were checked in and accounted for.

The concierge thanked you and began to hand you your keys when Taehyung finally spoke up, just as you were reaching forward for your key.

“Wait, make it one.” He said.

The concierge, Shin and you both turned to look at him.

“What?” The man asked, nervously.

“The room, make it one.” Taehyung said.

“We booked two, sir.” Shin cut in but Taehyung ignored it, still watching the concierge who looked at you.

“Um, Mr. Kim, what are you…?” you began.

“I don’t want to be alone. I’m sure their security is amazing and everything but we’re going to be at my family’s house till the gala begins anyway. There’s no point in having two rooms. It’s inconvenient. Plus, I’d feel safer if you were with me at all times.”

You gave him a look.

“That’s not a good idea at all.” You pointed out.

If anybody – read Shin and the hotel dude – opened their mouths and the news got out that Kim Taehyung was sharing a room with his manager, it would cause a scandal, and it would affect you as well.

Taehyung frowned at you before turning to the concierge. “Where are the rooms now?” he asked.

The concierge looked down into the sheet.

“Miss Y/L/N is in the floor below yours, sir.” He said.

“Bullshit; put us in adjoining rooms.” He snapped.

“Taehyung, seriously,” you growled, already at the edge of your patience but Taehyung didn’t seem to be relenting. It was either sharing a room or the same wall. What the hell did he want you so close to him for? Was he…, did he think…? You hoped not.

Ugh, you were so not ready to deal with this.

“Fine,” you handed the man his key back. “Do as he says.” You sighed.

Your head tilted back to rest on the tiled edge of the small hot water pool, provided on the private bay of each celebrity’s suite.

Since Taehyung hadn’t emerged from his room since the check out you had assumed he’d promptly gone off to sleep and decided to take a soak in the pool where the hot water jetted against your more than sore muscles.

The vibrations from the water were slowly working to loosen your tight tendons, making you drowsy.

Just as your eyes were sliding to meet each other and a sigh of much needed sleep passed your sleep, you heard the glass doors of the balcony bay open and then padded footsteps. The small awake part in your brain wondered if it was a towel boy or something, until the water sloshed up around you, making you startle awake.

Your first sight was that of a familiar toned chest, bare and not too far from you. You followed the line down to where long, lightly muscled legs stretched out to barely touch yours, hidden by black swimming trunks, before flicking your gaze up to meet his eyes.

Taehyung took a second to say something, eyes raking over your nearly bare body as well before offering you a sheepish but smug smirk.

“Sorry to interrupt your slumber, princess.” He murmured.

You blinked and scoffed sleepily at him, not quite recovered as you debated whether to stay there or get up and leave, if only to get some space from his proximity if not to give him some privacy.

An increase in the water jets made your decision for you, as you sighed again, watching Taehyung fiddle with the small settings remote.

Your eyes closed back and head dipped to the tiles. You could clearly feel his gaze fixed on you and the heat flushing through your body was now more than just thanks to the hot water.

The sports bra and high waist shorts ensemble you’d chosen for your soak was definitely not enough to cover you up when Taehyung’s gaze burned as if he was melting the fabric right off of your body.

Your eyes opened when they couldn’t stay closed and ignorant of his gaze and turned them straight on to your boss.

Working for him for months had taught you that Kim Taehyung was the definition of many things, shameless one of them. If you had expected him to turn his eyes away, you were sorely disappointed. If anything, Taehyung, whose eyes had been fixed to the surface of skin right over your breasts and neck, simply met your eyes, eyebrows quirking in question, as if he expected you to say something.

“Do you want something?” you snapped finally, only realizing how the question would come across to him when he replied.

“I have almost all the things I could want, Y/N, except maybe one or two.” He said before giving you an angelic smile. “If I told you, would you be a good little manager and get me it?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he would say.

“Well, you could try, but whether you get it or get sued might depend.” You warned and he laughed a deep, resonating sound.

It made you jolt in surprise, never having heard that kind of laugh from him before. His usual laughs were short, almost bitingly curt and almost always sounded derisive. When that was what you’d heard more than once, you’re learned to roll your eyes and take it that the Diva boy just didn’t find humor around him.

It was now that you learned that this was Kim Taehyung’s real laugh; free, ringing and absent of any disdain he loved showering people in.

It was a nice sound.

“What, why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, head tilted in confusion.

You straightened up, realizing a small smile had crept to your lips which you erased. “Nothing, I just…haven’t heard you laugh like that ever before.” You said.

A part of you wanted to smack yourself for showing that there were things you noticed about him but a larger part of you wondered if maybe noticing Taehyung himself would break down some of the ice in Kim Taehyung’s façade.

He blinked before looked abashed. “Whatever, I guess,” he mumbled, but he was clearly taken back at your observation.

He stretched a little bit more but his legs touched yours and he drew away before with a sigh of his own he moved, coming to sit beside you and stretching out further.

“Ah that’s better,” he said, arms coming up on both sides to rest along the tiled edge.

If anybody looked the way you were sitting, they would assume you were a couple…and then spread rumors. You frowned to yourself at that, about to get up.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, looking up at you.

“Going inside, I think I’m good.”

“Nonsense, sit down, you need this.” he said before laying his head back again.

Your body immediately slumped back against the wall, grateful for the indirect command as you did not want to leave the hot water just yet.

There was a surprisingly comfortable silence between you two till you broke it.

“You didn’t tell me what you wanted?” you murmured, feeling sleep creep back up on you.

There was a pause in which Taehyung opened his own eyes but kept staring up at the sky before he brought the remote to his eyes, pressing a button.

You immediately felt the water jets increase near your back and you let out a whimper, his head snapping to look at you. His eyes met yours and darkened just a little.

“Where do I start, Y/N?” he said, voice low and husky.

“I want to put my hands on you, feel the warmth of your skin against mine. I want to put my mouth on you, devour those pretty lips and feel them on me.”

A low gasp had escaped you and you were already backing away when he raised his hands to your face, wet fingertips lining over your cheekbones.

“More than anything else, though, I want you to actually fucking give in for once instead of just eye fucking me across a damn room.” He growled.

Taehyung tilted your face up just a tiny bit and you bit your lip to hide the quake that had over taken them at the very thought that Taehyung might actually kiss you. You wanted to push away but the rest of you, the exhausted part that just wanted to agree that you found Taehyung attractive had taken over, not allowing you to budge.

Just as you let go of your lip to say something, the water jet activated again, a streak of water hitting the side of your ribs just under your bust. Instead of a rebuke, a soft moan escaped your mouth, reddening your cheeks and blowing Taehyung’s pupils out completely.

The grip of his fingers increased on your face, holding you in place as with a muttered curse, he was smashing his mouth against yours.

You wondered idly later if maybe you had been drunk the first time Taehyung had kissed you. Maybe it had been the exhaustion, the mind numbing tiredness that seeped through your synapses, brought on by rigorous and continuous working. It was the type of numbness that only went away with a vacation, passing out drunk though you weren’t a fan of the hangover that followed, oh and maybe a night of wild romping.

It was this last thing that you were sure Taehyung could provide the best, his prowess well known.

So, that was probably why you put up approximately zero resistance.

Even now, as Taehyung pulled you tighter to him, arms wrapping around your waist, you could feel the warmth and distraction working to pull you out of your slump.

Your lips opened to him easily, letting his tongue sweep in and taste yours, entangling as you made out messy and sloppy. Taehyung soon hauled you on top of him, your legs on either side of his stretched out legs, straddling him right there…

You let out a drawn out moan when you felt how hard he was, just barely contained in the material of the trunks as it pressed against the crotch of your shorts and you felt him grind up against you as his hands began to wander from behind you.

You tilted your head back, letting his lips trail fire across your jaw line and down your neck.

The night air was cool, crisp but the pool and Taehyung felt so hot, they seared your skin.

It wasn’t until you felt him fiddling with the strap of your sports bra that awareness finally flooded through you.

This was wrong. Oh god, what were you doing? What if someone saw? You both would be faced with scandal; you would lose your job and your reputation. You would lose everything.

“No, wait,” you whispered weakly, eyes still fluttering at the way Taehyung was mouthing at the skin available to him. Your added height from his lap had put him in direct line of your chest and you couldn’t help but want him to continue. Only this time, you reigned yourself in.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, his voice already husky and low.

Your stomach tightened at the endearment and you fiercely reminded yourself he probably called every girl he kissed that.

“Stop, we can’t be doing this.” you said tensely, stiff in his arms and he pulled back just a tad bit, looking around.

“You’re right. Let’s take it to my room.” He said.

Your eyes flashed as he confirmed your thoughts. This was just a passing of time for him.

“I meant that we shouldn’t be doing this at all. You will go to your room and I will go to mine.” You said, pushing yourself away from him and clambering off his lap.

Taehyung blinked in confusion.

“What?” he asked, watching you climb out of the water and go to the lawn chair where you’d set your towel and pool dress.

“I think I made it clear, we need to be up and off tomorrow early if you want to safely get to your parents. We need to leave before the celebrities start to arrive, as does the mob.” You said wiping yourself off as best as you could.

In a way, you were also trying to wipe away his touch on you.

“Is that really what it is?” you felt a large hand clamp on your wrist and turn you around, right against his bare and wet chest.

You jolted away from him, wrenching out of his hold.

Taehyung furrowed his brows at your behavior, so different from how it was just moments ago. “What happened? Did I do something you didn’t like?” he asked.

You snorted.

Of course, that was what his mind would immediately jump to.

“Well, Mr. Kim aside from just violating my last clause, not much,” you sneered turning around to put on your dress.

“Your last clause…? The sexual harassment one…? What the hell, Y/N, we just kissed!” he seethed, volume lowering as he spat out the last sentence.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss your manager! You’re not supposed to flirt with your manager, you’re not supposed to stare at your manager like they’re your prey!” you winced at how shrill you sounded, as if you were close to tears.

You sort of were. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t ever thought of Taehyung that way but the very idea of his experience…and who and where he gained it from, made your stomach lurch.

You didn’t know if you wanted to keep letting him touch you, or be ashamed of your weakness. Both…maybe both…

Taehyung had his eyes wide, looking a little thrown and if you were reaching, even a little hurt.

“You’re…you’re not just…I mean, you haven’t been just,” he swallowed loudly, looking down.

“This, this right now, it shouldn’t have happened, Mr. Kim.” You whispered and watched him ball his fists before he was looking up.

The glare in his eyes made you physically shrink and he scoffed, sneering at your smaller frame.

“Whatever, Miss Y/L/N,” he hissed and you blinked, looking away as you bolted out of the bay, leaving him to watch after you.

The night didn’t go easy for you, tossing and turning in the spacious bed of the suite Taehyung had insisted you get. Huffing at the delicate throb between your legs and puffing at the slight ache in your chest at look on Taehyung’s face when you’d viciously chewed him out, you completely gave up on sleep, deciding on coffee in the unholy hours of 4:30 am.

You went to the small table right next to the suite entrance, flipping through the thick folder of the hotel to fish out the list of numbers you needed to dial to place your order when you heard it.

It was common knowledge that hotels, no matter how upscale were prone to having thin walls. So thin, that the conversations happening outside a room was easily available to the ears, which was why most staff were told to keep gossip to their private zones.

Of course, no one expects anybody to be awake at nearly five in the morning and they’d feel safe gossiping among themselves…right outside of the rooms.

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“The new room-maid, apparently she…did it…with him!”

“You don’t mean…?”

“I sure do,”

“Oh…my…god, he’s a GOD! How did she land him?”

“Oh please, you know him, are you really surprised?”

“Man, I’m so jealous. For god’s sake…KIM -,”

“Shut up! If someone heard us, we’d be fired.”

“Right, right, sorry,”

“Let’s just get back to work, before someone wakes up. We need to still do the rest of the floors.”

You heard the voices fade from range as they carried on chattering while walking. Your hands had frozen on the folder as you analyzed what you’d heard.

You were pretty sure it was Taehyung who was the center of the gossip, and he’d fucked some maid. A maid…

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, the ache in your chest returning. How could he? He’d made you feel special for…what, ten minutes, before his true colors had jumped out.

You glanced down at your fingers, where they’d nearly ripped the sheet of numbers to shreds. Gritting your teeth, you went to the phone to order your coffee.

You were determined to not give him the time of the day. If he could show you that you weren’t worth much to him, you could return the favor well enough.

You didn’t wake Taehyung up, not bothering to call for him as you instead focused on packing a small bag of your necessities for the visit to his house.

You also forego packing anything special for him. If he acted up, you’d deal with it later. You were tired of always thinking of him prior to yourself, no matter if it was your job or not.

You sent your things to the car, waiting to take off when he arrived, rumpled and his clothes showing wrinkles in his shirt. There was a pause in which Shin and you eyed him and when he looked up, meeting your eyes, both of you looked away at the same time, nodding to Shin to indicate you were ready to leave.

It was a tense ride.

Taehyung’s family lived near the idyllic countryside, owning a farm of their own. It was a curious thing that Taehyung came from a non influential family but you quickly reminded yourself you didn’t care. It wasn’t your concern to worry about his roots, just where he spread his branches to.

You could feel Taehyung’s ire radiating off of his body, rolling against you as if you’d personally offended him. Maybe you had, but then so had he, treating you as if you were just a game he could play with and if it didn’t work, he could throw it aside and get another one.

Now that was where you took offence, never mind that you had been stupid enough to give in.

You chewed on your lips, lips that just a few hours again had been slotted against him, moving as if you both would combust if you separated.

Ugh, damn it all to hell, you thought, balling your fists.

You shifted in your seat and Taehyung, who had been sitting way to the other side at the other window stiffened, as if he was waiting for some movement on your part.

You glanced at him, only to find he was already eyeing you, a strange mixture of annoyance, frustration and something akin to hurt swimming in his eyes. You dismissed the last as your mind playing tricks on you. You looked away.

“You should let your family know that you’re on your way, Mr. Kim.” You said coldly, not wanting to say his name.

Did that girl say his name? Did she give him what he wanted from you easily? It must’ve been so. Not many girls would say no to Kim Taehyung.

You didn’t deign to look at him again after that thought for the rest of the journey.

Taehyung’s family house sprawled over the small valley of their farm. You could see strawberry fields looming at the back as you got out of the car, moving around to see Taehyung already out, running to a woman who was holding her arms out.

Even as you watched, Taehyung melted into the woman’s embrace, his larger frame easily covering hers.

A small pang went through you as you tried to remember the last time you’d been in a mother’s embrace, turning to look at Shin.

“You’ll be here till the time of the Gala.” He reminded you, handing you a list of timings and meeting schedule.

“Got it,” you murmured, waving once as he nodded to you, passing a curious glance over the animated actor behind you before he got back in the car, the driver pulling out of the driveway.

“Ah, have you brought a girl to meet with me, son?” you heard the coo of Taehyung’s mother and turned, feeling Taehyung’s gaze bore into you as he watched you, expressionless.

You avoided his gaze, putting on your charming smile as you walked to her with your hand out.

“No, ma’am, I’m Y/N, only Mr. Kim’s manager.”

It wasn’t your intention to be spiteful but the way Taehyung’s eyes darkened and jaw tightened in fury, you all but felt cold satisfaction.

However, you soon turned surprised as Mrs. Kim completely ignored your outstretched hand, moving to hug you instead, slender and soft arms, wrapping just as carefully around you as they had her son.

“I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like I already know you.” she giggled before pulling back to smile kindly at you. “Thank you for looking after my son, Y/N. I imagine it hasn’t been very easy.” She pouted at her son who looked down sheepishly, a tight smile on his face that vanished when he met your gaze.

“No, but I think I handle it ok,” you murmured, turning back to his mother.

She took a moment to look back at you from her son, a speculative look to her eyes as she glanced back and forth.

You spent more than half the day outside, walking along the farm and the small hill that overlooked the house. Taehyung, once inside didn’t acknowledge your existence and neither did you want him to.

Taehyung’s family, while having all sorts of modern amenities, still held true to the traditional ways. There wasn’t a chicken coop or anything but there was still a line to hang clothes, a hay shed, and miraculously, a large tractor in a looking garage…right next to a shiny Chevy.

You didn’t know if you were visible from the windows, aimlessly meandering or if they’d just remembered you but you turned to the calls of Taehyung’s mother, walking up to meet you at a heap of strawberry leaves. Her eyes, similar to Taehyung’s were glimmering but unlike her son’s they were still warm and jovial.

“Mrs. Kim,” you greeted politely.

“Oh you’re so formal, it’s unnerving.” She teased as she reached you.

“In my work, professionalism is necessary.” You returned with a smile and she tilted her head.

“I see; must be exciting working in all the sectors that you have, also at such a young age.”

“It’s more exhausting but yes,” you replied, looking over the hill. “You have a beautiful home.”

“How would you know? You haven’t been inside yet.” She said and you looked quickly at her to see her quietly laughing. “It’s peaceful here. We didn’t always live here, but the city became…hectic, after Tae became famous. His fans are amazing, but some can be a little…overwhelming. So, we moved here after Tae’s grandmother passed. It’s not too far away from the city and not so close that we would be…easily sought.”

“I can understand.” You said, sympathizing with her.

She was silent for a minute before smiling again at you, “Come, I’ll walk with you.” she said.

Mrs. Kim, gave you a small tour of the farm, or just explained the existence of the things you’d already seen. About how Taehyung’s grandfather had first purchased the tractor, how the hay shed was more like a place for Taehyung’s younger siblings to play in and other things.

“So, how did Taehyung get where he is now?” You asked suddenly.

She seemed surprised at the question.

“Surely, you must know, as his manager?” she asked.

You shrugged. “I have only been with him a short while and I don’t really like to pry in people’s past.” You murmured, not mentioning about how you’d heard of Yubin.

“Hmm,” his mother paused, considering. “Taehyung was quite the child when he was young, I suppose. Always up in some activity or the other…I don’t need to tell you how horrible his academics went.” She giggled, even your lips tugging into a smile.

“We never thought that he would be actively pursuing this line, mind you. We always thought he’d grow out of it, or finally start focusing on his studies…but then she came.” Mrs. Kim’s face darkened for a split second before lightening.

“Yubin, her name was. She was one of those actresses who do the occasional tour of their hometown just to raise awareness. I don’t know what Taehyung was doing, he was supposed to be out with a friend but he came home all excited. Told me about how he was scouted by Yubin herself and everything. I refused to believe a word of it but then she showed up herself, with her manager.”

Mrs. Kim turned to look over the farm.

“She took him with her to Seoul, set him to work and for a while everything was amazing. My son was doing what he loved, he was loved, and he had more money than we were used to. He could do, or be anything he wanted now. Soon, he came home…with Yubin again. This time, as his lover,” She sighed.

“We weren’t disapproving, per say of the relationship. Sure, she was a few years older than him, was more famous, and had many things to do about. It was just curious that she would take to seeing an up and coming actor. We accepted it though, for my son. He was happy with her. She seemed happy enough with him…”

“The blow for all of us came, of course, when he proposed. I doubt she was expecting it. I don’t know what she told him but the next day their troubles began. He would always call me and they’d be having a fight. She began to be colder, more distant. Soon, she just up and disappeared. It was later that Tae found about all the others.”

There was silence as I absorbed the new information…or rather history.

“My son…wasn’t what the papers make him out to be. He isn’t what I’m sure you think him to be. He was a child, a young man who just happened to fall for the wrong woman. After she left, he changed. He began to call less, visit less. We began to see atrocious news about our precious boy, we got cornered more. He grew more famous and popular yes, but I don’t think he sees the cost he paid yet. But we do,” she turned to give you a sad smile which made you drop your gaze.

A shrill burst of laughter erupted, breaking though the silence of the evening and both your heads turned, following the sound to see two young boys laughing, running out of the open door.

Seconds later, Taehyung followed, long legs carrying him after his brothers, the deep, booming genuine laughter you’d heard echoing over to you as he chased his siblings.

You watched as he tackled the small boy, falling to the grass, careful to push his body to ground first so the child wouldn’t get hurt as he began to tickle his sides.

The young child laughed harder, squirming in his brother’s arms as they were joined by the youngest, which jumped about, pointing and demanding attention.

You blinked fast, pressing your fingers to your chest where the ache had returned.

There might have been more to Kim Taehyung than you might have seen but just how much of it still remained in him, was yet to be seen.

You would give him space, but you weren’t sure if you were willing to put yourself out there just yet, especially not after this morning.

Shin sent you the car after dinner time, making sure that Taehyung at least had enough time spent with his family. You decided to forego dinner with the family, politely declining and saying you had some work to finalize and would have dinner at the hotel.

You didn’t miss the small exchange of eyes Taehyung’s mother shared with her son when he stiffly turned at your refusal, shrugging apathetically.

Plugging in your earphones, you began to tick down the list of meetings you had tomorrow with Taehyung’s outfitters and select media personnel he’d give interviews to, checking their faces and IDs when the car arrived to take you back to the hotel.

The ride back was even more uncomfortable than the first, now that you were concerned about your own feelings and you could feel him turn his head towards you more often, an indescribable look on his face.

When the car pulled into the underground parking of the hotel, you were the first out, clutching your thin tablet and papers to your chest.

“Y/N,” you heard Taehyung call but you didn’t turn to him.

“I’m hungry now. I’ll be at the dining hall, if you need me,” you said hurriedly, walking away as fast as your feet would carry you.

In the dining hall, where you put in whatever the first table of the buffet had to order, you sat by the window, looking out and sighing.

Now that you were back, the conversation you’d heard in the morning kept replaying in your head, making you press your fingertips to your temples and roll them when you saw it.

The mob had already arrived. You’d see it being parted as the car swept into the parking.

Now, apart from the mob, a gaggle of girls were standing outside the window. What was concerning was that their eyes were fixed on you.

Frowning, you raised your eyebrows challengingly to the girls but they didn’t stir, instead muttering to each other.

Now, you had had a few experiences with crazy people, girls and boys who wanted a piece of your charge or someone close to them but you had never seen this.

You had never been the one to be stared at.

Feeling a thread of worry unfurl in your stomach, you ditched your plate, deciding to just get room service in your suite’s safety and got up, picking up your things and leaving.

Stopping just near the elevator of the hall, you turned to see the girls gone.

Getting out on your floor was when you felt it. The feeling of unease you’d felt in the dining hall.

You turned, looking both ways into the hallways.

“Taehyung?” you called, hoping it was him, just him.

The door to the emergency stairway opened then and the girls came in.

There were four and very pretty. You frowned, were they workers, sisters, staff for one of the celebrities to be living on this floor? Why were they using the stairs instead of the elevator?

“That’s her. Taetae’s manager,” the girl who’d been staring at you said.

She had on a kitty hair band, you noticed, funny the things people register when cornered.

“Are you sure?” another asked, tilting her head. There was something oddly off about the girls, but then maybe you were just scared.

“Um, I think I have the wrong hall.” You muttered, turning to walk away.

“We saw you with him.”

You turned to see them walking towards you in a straight line.

“Yeah, so, I’m his manager,” you said, bluntly.

“You called him by his name. Who do you think you are, calling our man by his name? He should be only Mr. Kim to you, bitch.”

You bristled at the audacity before rolling your eyes.

“Ok, I’m going to give you ten minutes to get out of here. Otherwise, I’m going to have security call the police.” You said, bravely turning to walk away again.

A harsh pull on your hair stopped you, earning a yelp as you were tugged backwards.

You turned hair still in the bitch’s grip as your eyes watered, seeing her face twisted in rage.

“How dare you, talking to us like that? You fucking slut, we all know what you want from him!”

Your hand came up to clutch at her hand, digging in your nails to make her grip lose and she let go but the others tackled you, one of them catching you with the sharp edge of her nail as she grasped your neck, fingers digging into your throat.

Oh god, you were going to die.

You tried to buck her off, rolling to throw her off when you heard the commotion and a familiar shout.

“Hey! Get the fuck away from her!”

The girl looked up, her fingers loosening as black suited men surrounded the group.

“Taetae, hi, oh my god, we’re such huge fans. I’m sorry, I was just…” the girl stammered as she got off of you while you turned to your side trying to crawl away.

“Don’t, just don’t fucking talk to me,” you heard him bite before soft hands were cradling your shoulders.

“Y/N, hey, Y/N, can you hear me?”

You nodded as best as you could, ignoring the sting in your throat as Taehyung propped you against his knee before turning livid eyes to Shin and the concierge who had accompanied the security.

You watched as the black suited guys dragged the girls away in the service elevators.

“What the hell, man? Your security is fucking horrible. How did they get up here?” he yelled, making you wince.

“We’re so sorry, Mr. Kim. They must’ve used the emergency staircase. We don’t have a lot of men posted there.” The concierge spread his hands and Taehyung let out a scoff before looking at you.

“You’re lucky we got here in time. If anything happened to her, you can be sure you would pay…and not just in money. I’d personally make sure of that.”

“Taehyung, it’s ok.” You said softly and he looked at you, glare softening a little.

“Fine,” he grumbled as he stood up with you pulled along with him.

“Shin, make sure these idiots double everything. I don’t care who they put and I want Y/N watched as well,” he ordered, meeting with zero protests as he led me to his suite, shutting and locking the door after him.

The inside of Taehyung’s suite was similar to yours, the trademark pieces of the hotel’s furnishings, and a form of comfort to you.

He nudged you to the bed, sitting you down wordlessly before disappearing into the bathroom and rummaging in the cabinets.

You let out a slow exhale, closing and releasing your fists. Your neck was prickling where the girl’s talons had dug in and cut you and you badly wanted to scratch the skin.

Why did this happen to you? Why would you be targeted out of all the celebrities here? Were you just at the wrong place at the wrong time?

You groaned, dropping your head to your hands just as Taehyung emerged.

“The first aid kit isn’t all that amazing, but we can still disinfect and wash the cut – hey, what’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

Taehyung quickly placed the ceramic toothbrush bowl of hot water and the black bag of medical supplies on the nightstand, grasping your hands to pull them away from your face.

You shook your head and he let go of you, bringing a chair to sit in front of you, tearing open a pack of wet wipes and looking back up at you.

His fingers curved around your jaw line, tilting your head up and examining the crescents of nails on your skin, before running the cool tissue over them, wiping away any residual fluid that might have oozed out.

He dropped the tissue, before applying some antiseptic cream on the area and patting at it with gauze cloths.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” you asked curiously.

Taehyung didn’t answer. His warm brown eyes met yours and held the gaze as he continued to spread a thin layer of disinfectant on your skin with his fingertip.

You wondered whether he was avoiding the question when he looked away.

“I’m glad they didn’t harm you.”

“They almost strangled me. Nice, sweet fans,” you replied, watching the slight quirking of his lips.

“Not all of them are all so sweet.” He said.

“You’d know.” You said referring to the sasaeng he’d slept with.

He frowned immediately. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you mumbled, sighing.

You didn’t have to be so hard on him. Never mind, his issues with you right now, you were still his manager and he’s protected you, going to the front line himself rather than letting Shin or the hotel concierge do it for him.

“Listen, thank you for this, really, I’m sorry, I’m being mean.” You said.

He hummed, “Would your behavior have anything to do with what we…what happened at the pool?” he asked.

This time, it was your turn to frown at him.

“You’re one to talk. You managed to have your own fun and still acted like a jerk the whole day.” You argued.

Taehyung’s eyebrows rose up.

“I didn’t have my fun. I wasn’t just having fun with you, Y/N.” He said coldly.

“I’m talking about the maid.”

Taehyung looked genuinely confused.

“What maid?” he asked.

“The maid that you,” you paused, looking up as Taehyung tilted his head, waiting for you to continue. “You know what; we don’t have to do this. I’m going to my room. Thanks again,” you said, about to stand when he placed a heavy hand on your knee.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered his voice stern.

“The maid you slept with, Taehyung. There, I said it,” you sneered and he blanched.

“Whoa, whoa, wait right there, I did not sleep with any maid.” He blurted out, eyes widening as he raised both hands in surrender.

You rolled your eyes.

“I heard two housekeepers talking about it this morning, Taehyung. Drop it,” you said sharply and Taehyung frantically gripped your shoulders.

“I’m not lying to you, I swear. It must have been some girl trying to start a rumor. I was in my room ever since you left me at the pool and I didn’t come out till the call for the car came. I swear on my mother.” He said; breathing fast as he leaned down to look into your eyes, making sure he got the point across.

You blinked as he said it and looked down. “Oh,”

“I just thought…I didn’t put out with you so…you know, you went to get…”

Taehyung curled a finger under your face, pulling it up so you would look at him. His eyes were intense.

“I can understand why you would think that. I know I haven’t been the most…chaste person around but I can promise you, Y/N, what happened between us at the pool, was not because I was horny and wanted to just fuck. I mean I did want to but not just to pass time or anything. I want you, really. I haven’t messed around with anyone ever since the concert. I can’t think about it with anyone else but you now. I’m not going to mess this up by doing that with just anyone. If I want to change how you think of me, I’m going to have to change how I act, don’t I?” he said, quietly.

Your mouth parted as you absorbed what he told you.

Did he really feel like this and was just acting like a douche? Or had he stopped acting like one and you’d just never noticed…?

“Taehyung,” you said softly and he hummed again in question.

You leaned in slowly; feeling him tilt his head as well as you placed a delicate kiss on his lips.

Taehyung dragged in a halting breath, cool and warm at the same time against your skin as he opened his mouth under your pressure.

He was gentle this time, palms wrapping around your cheeks as he held you softly to him, curving towards you as he pecked your lips in short tugs.

“I was,” he kissed you again.

“So worried, when I saw you on the floor like that,” he pulled away to press his lips to your nose.

“I think I would’ve exploded right there.”

You shushed him, pulling his lips back to yours. “I’m fine now.” You said, before pulling away.

Taehyung didn’t let you go completely. “Stay here. It’s not safe for you to be alone anymore. I don’t know if Shin and that man doubled up security or what but I want to keep any eye on you.” he said.

You smiled softly, feeling his hands entwine with yours as you nodded. “Okay.”

As much you would’ve loved to spend the morning in Taehyung’s warm embrace the next morning, his long arms wrapped tightly around your midriff as he buried his head against your back, you couldn’t.

The film festival had officially begun and so had your work day.

Your first meeting was with the hall organizer, calling in to tell you where the entry and exits were, what the protocols for safety and…private areas were.

You shifted from Taehyung’s grip, slipping out just as he groaned, turning on his back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I need to go meet with Shin and the hall manager. So, you can look pretty when you enter the gala in the evening.” You told him, going into his bathroom and groaning lightly at the state of you.

Both Taehyung and you had fallen asleep with clothes on and now your shirt and pants were wrinkled. No way were you going to present yourself like this.

You ducked out while putting your hair into a ponytail to see him already standing, looking up at you with a small hopeful glint in his eye.

“What is it?” you asked warily and he jumped up, walking to the large closet lining one side of the room and pulling out a heavy black garment box.

He turned to you with his lips tucked between his teeth, advancing before presenting the box to you.

“Um,” you glanced between his and the box and he chuckled.

“I was…well, I was going to ask you to be my date for the Festival before the pool thing happened. Now that everything is fine between us, I’d like to try again.” He said.

You dropped your gaze to the box again.

“It’s something I liked while shopping when you were sick. I had it customized in your size.” He explained.

“How do you know my size?” you gasped.

Taehyung rolled his eyes before dropping the box to the bed, arms curving round your waist to pull you closer to his chest as he dropped his head near your ear.

“I have been watching you for months now, Y/N. You don’t think I can make an accurate guess as to your sizes?” he asked, chapped lips running over your lobe and you giggled, pushing at his chest.

“Fine, whatever, you creep, I’ll see you later.” You said, escaping his hold and swiping the box off the bed, making a hasty dash for your room.

The hall was already decorated, marble flooring gleaming and reflecting the domed and chandelier-studded ceilings as you circled in the huge space.

The skirt of your outfit brushed along your knees as you turned, taking in the opulence with a soft smile on your face.

Your talk with the hall manager had gone by smoothly as he explained how and where the attendees would be coming in from, the way the media would have access to them and how they would be escorted back to their rooms in clear detail, going as far as to explain that he would made doubly sure to not let in any obsessed fan.

You nodded solemnly at that, thanking him as he left you, politely bowing out.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

You jumped; startled as you whirled to see another woman had joined in on your solitary enjoyment.

You stuttered in your steps a little before politely nodding, adding a small bow to the seemingly older women just as she turned to you.

She was beautiful, of course she was.

Her hair, a gleaming black was pulled back into a swinging ponytail that brushed the middle of her back, the lines on her face only adding to her ageless beauty.

“It is,” you agreed and she smiled.

“It’s been a while since I was asked to be a part of something like this. I couldn’t refuse this time.” She tilted her head to you a little. “I am Yubin.” She introduced herself and for a full half minute you gaped, your eyes widening.

This was Yubin? The Yubin? The one who had supposedly broken Taehyung’s heart and maybe even ruined the kind hearted boy and turned him into a bratty young man?

“I…I…I’m Y/N,” you said quietly.

“Oh…I’ve heard of you.” She said, surprise coloring her voice before the smile returned. “You’re quite famous in our circles.”

“I suppose. It’s all hard work and no sleep.” You mumbled.

“All work in our line is,” she sighed.

“So…are you back? Are you going to act again? Is this a promotion?” you asked, trying not to sound as if you were prying and she shrugged.

“I haven’t considered a return just as of yet. I wasn’t going to come but after a perusal of the attendees I had to come.”

It wasn’t caught out of your notice that she definitely had to mean Taehyung. The notion that she wanted to see him again made a slow flame light under your chest and your fist tightened.

You were about to take your leave in case you said something that would cause you problems when the door swung open again but this time it wasn’t the Hall Manager.

It was Taehyung.

His hair was parted, showing a sliver of his forehead and his grin was palpable.

You didn’t give much of a reaction as he began to walk up to you, not even noticing the other woman…or rather the woman.

“I was wondering where you were and Shin told me you had this meeting. I wanted to…”

He trailed off as your eyes darted to Yubin who had stiffened upon hearing his name, slowly turning to look at him. Taehyung for his part was slow to react. His voice quieted till he went completely silent and he froze in his steps, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

From what he had told you, it would certainly seem that Yubin was a ghost as she blinked gently at him.

“Hello, Taehyung, it’s been a long time.” She said softly, a demure smile on her face and Taehyung faltered.

Your heart fluttered to see this, wondering if you should leave now but also not wanting to. His eyelids dropped as he closed his eyes and he took a deep inhale. His lean frame was coiled, tight with tension even as he exhaled and you were surprised to see his open eyes find yours.

Only this time, they weren’t jovial and affectionate, not even dumbfounded.

No, they were enraged.

Without another word, he was marching past Yubin, brushing by her without another glance at her and he latched on to your arm, tugging you with him out of the private exit, leaving her behind.

Taehyung didn’t let up till you were way out of the earshot of people, climbing the stairs to some other floor with you trying to keep up with his long legged stride that you said something.

“Taehyung!” You snapped, yanking your arm out of his vice like grip.

He stopped to look at you, eyes still burning with fury and began to back you against a wall, hands coming up to both sides of the wall near your head, caging you in.

“What did she say to you?” he demanded.

“Nothing, jeez, she had just opened her mouth. We just introduced ourselves when you came in.” You said, trying to not seem so small with him towering over you.

Taehyung still squinted at you suspiciously. “Don’t trust her, Y/N. You…you shouldn’t have been in there with her alone. I should’ve paid more attention, I’m sorry.” He ducked his head in a sigh and your face softened.

“Hey,” you reached up, curling your fingers along his jaw to tilt his head up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. She didn’t do anything, ok?” you said and even though his eyes still hardened at her mention he didn’t push it.

“I’m just…I don’t want her to screw up another thing in my life.” He sighed and you nodded in understanding.

“Nothing’s screwed.” You reassured and he smiled at you fondly before leaning further in, encasing your lips in his.

A groan escaped him as he pressed you against the wall, one arm winding around you to curve your body to his, tongue swiping against your bottom, asking for permission.

You put your hands against his chest, letting his gently slide the muscle in and entwine with yours.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your mouth when a sharp ping made you both jump away from each other.

You looked around wildly before Taehyung pulled out his own phone.

“It’s just mine.” He said before his brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked and he shook his head, putting the phone down.

“It’s nothing. I have something to do now. I’ll see you in the gala, ok? Wear the dress, you’ll be beautiful.” He gave you his trademark glittering grin before he was vanishing back downstairs.

You might not agree with Taehyung on a number of things, but as you opened the garment box in your suite to get ready for the evening, you had to say you completely agreed that you were going to look good in the dress he’d picked out.

You’d showered, moisturized, perfumed and now you were standing in front of the full length mirror in the dress.

The lace overlay gown was stunning, blush color flowing down into a gossamer skirt that felt like water against your skin as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

Glancing back at the selection of dresses that Taehyung’s stylists had brought in for you, you sighed, running your hands down the shimmering material, decision made.

You were wearing Taehyung’s dress.

Grabbing a white clutch and a few necessities, you made your way out of the suite, tracing an eye across the floor just in case.

You weren’t scared of anything else happening but after that one time, you sure were going to be extra careful.

You cast a look down the hall to Taehyung’s closed suite door and smiled softly, wondering how he would be looking in the suit you’d helped the stylists choose. The red accents would be beautiful against his skin, you’d thought.

While you were excited to attend the Gala with Taehyung at your side, you couldn’t forget you were here to work first and foremost. One last glance at Taehyung’s door and you got into the elevator, going downstairs to meet Shin to make sure everything was perfect and safe.

Cameras flashes, soft classical music alternating with the latest hits in the industry blasted across the glorious hall. It was difficult to take in that the Grecian hall you’d seen in the morning was now hosting so many stars.

You smiled at a few business men you recognized, making sure to steer clear of the celebs getting their picture taken. Glancing at you studded watch you noted that it was about ten minutes till Taehyung would make his entry and you bit your lips in anticipation, smiling along to whatever one of your ex employers was saying.

“I’ll be honest; I wouldn’t have thought that you would ever work for an Actor.” The man said.

“Me neither, but here we are,” you said, smiling as you sipped at your champagne.

“Hmm and how has Kim Taehyung been treating you?” the man returned the sly smile and you glanced at your watch again, frowning when you saw it was past his time.

“Kim Taehyung…is late, as a matter of fact. Will you please excuse me?” you asked and the man snorted, already muttering about how you’d d well to return to the businessmen, who were at least punctual.

You nodded alone as he walked away from you, pulling out your phone to dial Taehyung.

No answer, the phone going straight to voicemail.

You let out an irritated grunt as you craned your neck to find Shin. Spotting him near the appetizers table you walked up to him.

“Shin, where’s Mr. Kim?” you asked.

Shin blinked down at you as he munched down whatever it was he was eating.

“He…well, he asked to have his entrance pattern changed.” He said.

“Excuse me?”

Shin glanced around before nodding. “He came up to me and told me to make a few changes.”

“Why wasn’t I notified?” you demanded.

“He told me you already knew. Now, I think he was lying.”

“Obviously,”

The quickly darkening look on your face must have alarmed Shin because he quickly spoke up. “I’ll go talk to him, if you wish.”

You shook your head.

“No, I’ll do that. Thank you,” you added quickly and walked away.

Your hand moved to pluck another champagne glass from a passing waiter and chugged it down.

Great, Taehyung seemed to have reverted back to his original ways. This was going to be a very long night.

“Y/N,” you looked up from your phone to meet Mil’s eyes, already holding two champagne glasses in her hand.

“Mil, fancy seeing you here,” you mumbled, dropping your eyes back to your phone.

It had been a full hour and you were bored out of your mind, waiting for Kim Taehyung’s arrival.

If it had been anybody else, a date or something, you would’ve walked out a long time ago but seeing as this was your job, you had to grin and bear it.

Almost everyone who knew you here could tell you were in a bad mood, brow perched low and lips downturned.

“Where’s the brat?” Mil asked, pushing the glass in your hand.

“I don’t know. Apparently, he doesn’t need to notify his manager where he’s fucking off to and why he won’t pick his phone up.” You growled.

She sighed, sitting down on the stool beside you.

“I’m sorry. I really feel like I pushed you into something terrible.” She said.

“No, I agreed to do it,” you sighed and laid your head down on the cool counter as Mil watched you suspiciously.

“Did something…happen? You would usually be a lot more pissed than this.” she said.

You eyed her as she watched you before looking down.

“He…I…we might have kissed.” You mumbled.

There was a pause before Mil was shaking her head. “Oh Y/N, you know better…”

“I do…I mean, Taehyung wasn’t, he said he didn’t want to be known for what he acted like.” You protested but Mil didn’t look convinced.

“Pretense is only a façade until it becomes habit, Y/N. Then it’s behavior. Then it’s the person themselves. You cannot change a person.” She said before turning to look away.

“Taehyung has been known to try with anything that moves. We all thought you might not be one of those people. I guess we were wrong. I’m so sorry, I pushed you into this.” she looked so crestfallen for you that you stayed speechless.

Mil and you didn’t speak again, the silence unbearable and uncomfortable.

It was only broken when the crowds went crazy near the door. Mil and you both stood up to see who had arrived and your breath caught in your throat.

No…it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t do this…

He was beautiful as usual, angelic with his rectangular smile on proud display. He was also wearing a different suit, not the one you’d chosen. He was wearing one to match her.

Had you really been so stupid and blind?

He wouldn’t…he couldn’t…

You shook yourself mentally.

Yes, of course, he would…he could and he had…he had done exactly as you were seeing him.

You really had been a stupid, blind fool.

Taehyung had played you easily, easier than a fiddle. You had been so taken with trying to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Kim Taehyung you’d forgotten the basics. Of course, he was different with his family. It was the tabloids that managed to get to the truth after all, not his mother. No, his mother had been played just like you, too fond of the idea of her perfect son to see what he truly was.

Your eyes drifted to Yubin, who looked ethereal in all white, raven hair flowing down her back, all smiles and poses.

They were marvelous together.

“Y/N,” you heard Mil call for you but it was almost as if you were underwater.

You couldn’t be here right now.

“I’ll see you later, Mil.” You muttered before grabbing your clutch and downing the glass of champagne and rushing out, from one of the side exits.

Your anger lasted well past the night.

You’d stared at your reflection, looked at the makeup on your face and the dress. It felt dirty against you now. Quickly shedding off the fabric you hadn’t bothered to keep it away properly, letting it disgracefully lie on the floor.

Your fists were balled now, the cotton ball clutched frantically.

You had never felt so dumb in your entire life, not even during your first job when you’d flirted with the son of your boss. At least they’d taken it in good humor.

This, though, you wouldn’t take in good humor.

Your pride was hurt, your ego bruised and you were vindictive.

Taehyung had probably waited all this while to pay you back for the iron leash you’d placed around his neck and he’d succeeded magnificently.

You wanted to laugh at yourself, but at least you hadn’t shed tears. You wouldn’t.

You had only about three more years to work for Kim Taehyung. You wouldn’t back out of the clause. You would do the term and then drop him, never to see his face again.

Something in you had started to ache again, but you ignored it, mercilessly squashing it.

Your decision made, you’d still felt restless the next morning.

Apart from the numerous messages Taehyung had sent and calls you’d missed, each one demanding where you were and why you weren’t replying.

Anger and hurt had made you delete nearly everything but his contact, walking out of the suite to go down to the dining room to get breakfast instead of ordering it via room service. You weren’t sure if Taehyung would show up at your doorstep, or if he had…spent the night with her.

The elevator dinged its arrival and you entered it.

Just as the door began to slide shut, a hand grasped the end of one, the door stopping its slide. You jumped, wondering for a split second if Taehyung had managed to catch you after all but the man who came into your sight was not him.

Round faced and cute, Park Seojoon entered the elevator with a somewhat embarrassed grin pointed at you, bowing a little. “Ah, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You chuckled, bowing back to one of your favorite actors. “No, sir, you didn’t.” you returned.

“Sir,” he laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Please, don’t be so formal. You may call me Seojoon. You’re Taehyungie’s new manager, right?” he asked.

The mention of his name soured you just a tad and you just nodded listlessly.

He watched you a second, head tilted as the elevators opened at the dining room.

“May I sit with you? I would rather not dine alone.” He said.

“Oh,” you blinked at him.

Park Seojoon inviting you to sit with him? How could you ever refuse?

“Of course,” you smiled, leading him to the window seat you always ate at.

Seojoon followed you obediently, ordering for the both of you before sitting down in front of you.

It was a great breakfast.

Seojoon was funny, endearing and over all a charming company. The dining room, even though filled with a few of the celebrities who’d been attending at the festival was empty of Taehyung and Yubin and you were happy for it.

“So, is Taehyung treating you right or do I need to kick some sense in him?” he asked finally as you winded up.

“Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Would you be accepting of one more thing to handle tonight then?” he asked suddenly, turning to look at you.

You paused as you stood beside him, watching him curiously.

“Would you like to attend tonight’s gala with me? If I’d known you earlier, I would’ve asked you for both the evenings but at least this way I get to spend the rest of the festival with the perfect companion.” He smiled his sweet smile.

You flushed, looking down at your shoes to grin.

Unbidden, Taehyung’s face rose up in your eyes but just like before, you quelled it.

“Of course, I would love to.” You grinned.

His answering smile was blinding. “That’s awesome.”

The second gala was the real opening of the festival. In which actors promoted their new projects, interacted with each other, and could exchange merchandise.

This time you’d picked out your own gown, a shopping trip acting both as retail therapy for you and you also didn’t want to wear one of the dresses sent by Taehyung’s outfitters.

Seojoon had kindly sent you a picture of the outfit he was going to wear and you had bought a gown specially to match it, quite proud of your selection.

Now standing next to Park Seojoon, you were actually struck by how much difference there was between Taehyung and his Hyung.

While Taehyung was enigmatic, yes, there was always doubt in the back of your mind as to his next move. With Seojoon, his maturity easily showed. He was quieter, open, and actually showed up; making your mouth drop open to how amazing he looked.

If the way his eyes popped out as well was any indication, you knew you’d done a good job.

“You really do look amazing.” Seojoon said again just seconds before the doors swung open. You ran a hand down the crimson ball gown and grinned, your cheeks tinted just right as he walked in, your arm wrapped around his.

You’d been right in estimating the type of date Park Seojoon would be.

He was attentive, a good listener and endearing, introducing you to people whose first commendation came always in the way you had switched so brilliantly from Business to the Entertainment industry. Each mention of Taehyung’s name felt like a lemon being squeezed on you yet you kept up the grin.

“Well, she is just plain amazing.” Seojoon smiled, patting your shoulder appreciatively and you preened. Attending a gala with your celebrity crush would do that to you.

The crowds, which tended to scream just as a celebrity entered the hall, screamed louder and you turned away immediately, already sure of whom it was. They must have finally arrived.

Seojoon leant in, smile fixed in place, “Dance with me?” he asked.

You returned his smile. “Yes, please.”

You said and he led you to the glittering marble floor.

After a quick dance to one of the slower hits of a singer, you and he bought some of the merchandise to be delivered later to your rooms and talked to the other veterans in the industry. Seojoon introduced you to a few of his co-stars who were more interested in what went into being Kim Taehyung’s manager than you.

You spied Taehyung a few times in the midst of the stars and not once did he look happy. His mouth was pinched, eyes flaming and he’d dropped Yubin somewhere. He also seemed to be avoiding the eyes of everyone who stopped to talk to him. You squinted to be able to see if he was drunk or not when Seojoon began to excuse the both of you.

Seojoon and you walked up to the bar.

“Man, I have about an hour more to do this and then I can go back to my room.” He sighed.

“Lucky, I’ll probably have to stay for Taehyung.” You sighed, already worried about his disposition.

He leant over the counter for the bartender and shrugged. “Well, then I suppose I should stay here with my lovely date so I don’t miss any more time of her company.” He flirted and ordered a few martinis, talking about the merchandise both of you had ordered.

When the drinks arrived, Seojoon turned to you seriously.

“Is there something wrong with Taehyung and you?” he asked.

You nearly choked on your drink, making Seojoon calmly reach over to rub your back as he offered you a napkin. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“No, I mean, why would you even ask me that?” you asked.

“Well, any mention of Taehyung seems to make you upset, you didn’t look at Taehyung when he entered, you avoided all the stalls that have Taehyung’s goodies and he’s been looking at you ever since he’s caught you, all angry and red in the face.” He said.

It was a mark of your control that you didn’t turn to look to find Taehyung when he said that.

“Look, I won’t pry but if you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.” He said.

You’d just opened your mouth to say there was nothing wrong when a shadow fell over your corner.

“Y/N,”

Seojoon and you both turned to look up at the intruder, making you let out a small gasp at the sight.

Taehyung was drunk. His hair, usually perfectly styled was messed up, half of the strands standing up and his skin was clammy, eyes bloodshot.

The only thing that was halfway in focus was his gaze that was fixed on the less than respectable distance between you and his friend.

“Taehyung,” Seojoon was the first to speak, leaning away from you, surprised to see his friend so far gone.

Taehyung’s eyes flitted to him. “Hyung,” he sneered, “Having fun?” he asked, eyes roving to yours.

You bristled, immediately understanding what he was hinting at. You stood up. “Taehyung, you should go to bed now.” You said.

“Sure, come with me, unless you want to stay here with Hyung and…have some more fun.”

You winced, glancing at Seojoon who stood up as well, walking forwards to place a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Taehyung-ah, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s get you to your room ok?” he said soothingly.

Taehyung scoffed, throwing off Seojoon’s hand. “I’m fine, Hyung. If you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to my manager.”

Seojoon looked weary at that. “I don’t think it’ll be appropriate if I let her go with you in this state.”

“No, it’s fine.” You said quickly, already noticing the brewing anger and outrage in Taehyung’s eyes but Seojoon shook his head, “It’s not, Y/N.” He said and struck out a hand to stop you from going to Taehyung.

“Hey, don’t touch her!” Taehyung yelled immediately.

Seojoon’s eyebrows rose, hand still out as people began to look around, murmuring and pointing your group out.

“Taehyung, stop, he’s not ok, he’s not doing anything. Seojoon, please, he’s making a scene, let me take him out of here.” you gripped Seojoon’s arm in panic.

“I’m making a scene? Of course not, dearest Y/N. why, I’m in perfect control. Now come with me, now.” Taehyung growled.

“I can’t let you go with him, Y/N. I’m sorry but he’s not safe.” Seojoon said sternly and Taehyung lunged.

“No, Taehyung stop!” you screamed as Taehyung threw a punch. You didn’t know if it was the drunkenness or Seojoon’s military training but he quickly caught the fist, pushing his younger friend away.

“What the hell are you doing, Taehyung? I’m your friend.” Seojoon hissed and you slipped past him, grabbing Taehyung’s arm.

“Friends don’t hurt each other the way you did, Hyung.” Taehyung spat and then Shin was there, wrapping his arms around the struggling man.

By now a crowd had gathered around you and your ears burned in shame. But this wasn’t the time to be ashamed of his actions, you thought as you caught the cameras pointing at him.

“What do we do with him?” Shin asked.

You met Taehyung’s angry stare with your blank one. “Take him to his room and stay with him. Don’t let him leave. I’ll have to handle this.” you said as Shin began to usher the man to the exits.

Taehyung seemed to have given up the fight; figure slumped as he looked imploringly at you.

“Y/N,” you heard him say before the doors shut and the murmuring picked up again.

You turned to Seojoon urgently, examining his face for any hurt.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I doubt he is though.” Seojoon brushed off your concern.

“I’m so sorry about this. I really am.”

“Don’t be, Y/N, I enjoyed myself tonight. You should go to him, he’ll need you.” he said, offering you a pursed smile.

“And if you need me, you know where to find me,” he added just as you turned to leave, the whispers following you all the way to your room.

“I don’t understand!”

Mr. Bang slammed a fist on the wooden table.

“I do not understand why Taehyung would get drunk and pick a fight with Park Seojoon of all people. They are brothers, they are so close.”

You chewed on the end of your pencil as you tried to seem as if you were in thought. And so you were, thinking about the last 72 hours. Those were the critical period in which a crisis in image management could be resolved.

You’d flown back home in Seoul to deal with the media printing out the news of Taehyung’s fight with Park Seojoon. You’d managed to quell almost all of the further speculations in good time but the video proof had been spread and even gone viral.

You’d seethed at him internally for putting you on the spot and if he’d been here you’d have hit him.

You’d called Seojoon to tell him you were going back and he’d forwarded his desire to see you when you and he were free, a prospect you’d gladly taken up before you were on the flight back home, leaving Taehyung behind to complete the festival events, under the sharp watch of Shin.

Besides, there was more you had to do.

After a long time of consideration, you had decided to let go of your contract with Kim Taehyung. There was no way you and he would be able to work together like this. Not when Yubin was concerned and not when his own actions towards you were so questionable.

You’d put yourself out there twice and he’d smashed both those chances.

You were done with him.

So, here you were sitting with Jinyoung and Chanyeol again.

“I don’t know, Mr. Bang. And frankly, I don’t care. I cannot work with someone who has zero self control and I’m not willing to be his impulse inhibitor.” You said harshly.

Mr. Bang sighed.

“I thought after this time…I must’ve been wrong.” He said.

Your jaw clenched as your gut told you what he was hinting at.

“Well, seeing as my client doesn’t have any further ties to Big Hit, we’d like to take your leave now.” Chanyeol said, chancing a look at your face.

You had never been so thankful for your friends before. Mil’s mistake had made you remove the clause in which you had to find a suitable substitute for Taehyung.

You’d submitted your resignation and had only to wait for Taehyung to return to sign its acceptance.

Meanwhile, you were taking a vacation. You’d earned it.

“…and I would also like to ask for Seojoon’s forgiveness. I know what I did was way out of line and I cannot stress how ashamed I am that I got inebriated enough to hit one of my closest friends. I’m just happy he and my manager weren’t hurt.”

Your hands froze in the act of chopping up tomatoes for your dinner.

You hadn’t heard from Taehyung ever since that fateful night and the sudden onset of his deep tenor voice made you stop every motion as you listened.

“I would also like to explain the reason why I was so inebriated. I was under a forced deal. It was so stressful that I acted out in an atrocious manner towards my manager. She had been kind enough to bear with it but I feel now is the time to stop dragging her through the dirt like this. I can only ask for forgiveness, I’m afraid.”

You walked out of your kitchen to see him on the news channel.

Sitting on a panel, surrounded by Shin and Mr. Bang his head was bowed as he narrated his side of the events. About how he was drunk, how he didn’t mean it, how he was sorry…

You let out a scoff at his face. He was a fantastic actor; of course he would be magnificent in this role. After all, he was the nation’s Golden boy. He’d be forgiven anything.

The knock on your door, made you turn, frowning at the late visitor and opened the door a crack before gaping.

Taehyung’s head was bowed now as well, cap down turned, and mask on but it was easy to tell it was him. You’d always be able to recognize him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, opening the door further.

His head rose to look up at you, small eyes brightening at the sight of you.

You looked around the hallway before ushering him in.

“Well?” you demanded, crossing your arms as he took his time, pulling off the cap and mask.

“I…I came to see you.” he said.

“Right, well you saw me, now you should leave.” You said coldly.

Taehyung’s face fell at that. He took a step forward, towards you. “Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he paused, head turning to see him on your screen.

You and he watched him as the press conference repeated some snippets and you sighed, moving to the kitchen to pick up your knife again.

“Are you going…to stab me or something?” he asked, appearing in the doorway.

You rolled your eyes.

“No, but I do want you to leave.” You stressed.

“Y/N,”

You could feel him step into the kitchen, arms reaching for you before he sighed, dropping them.

You waited, seeing if he would actually leave.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I have to do. I need you to tell me. Just say it and I’ll do it. Anything to get you back,” he whispered.

You paused, watching him out of your periphery.

“I…I’m just a farm kid, Y/N. I don’t have much experience with this but I know I screwed up again. All I’m asking is for you to understand.” He said again.

You turned to face him.

His face had drooped, lips pouting.

“Why did you do it? Why would you go back to her? You didn’t even have the guts to tell me.”

“I didn’t go back to her!” Taehyung shook his head vehemently. “That’s the last thing I would do. I know I sound like I’m shifting blame but she…she’s the reason why I’m like this.”

He sighed before slumping down into one of your dining chairs.

“You know that Yubin was the one who scouted me but when I got popular enough, successful enough we began to date. I was…mesmerized by her. She was beautiful, smart, everything that a small town kid like me could want. I would’ve married her in a heartbeat. Of course, I knew my family didn’t exactly approve but…I honestly didn’t care. I proposed.”

He gave a bitter laugh.

“She said no, of course. It changed her. She began to stay out late, took more far off projects, leaving me behind. It wasn’t until later, when we broke up that she told me about all the other…men and women. I wasn’t experienced enough, not good enough for her. She wanted more. She didn’t want to settle with me.”

He broke off and you didn’t have to be a mind reader to know that it must’ve hurt.

“Well, what else was I supposed to do? We broke up and she left, retired. I became The Kim Taehyung. What you see in front of you now, is thanks to her.” He looked up with a hollow look on his face.

“I slept around, did everything to become more like her. Maybe then I’d be good enough but she never returned. After a while, I began to act like that out of habit. Call it fucked up, I’ll agree with you. When I met you, I honestly began to only see you something to be broken into what I wanted. Of course, I wanted you to be mine; the pool wasn’t part of the scenario. I don’t know when, but you weren’t a conquest to me after a time. You were making me better. You were making me…me, again. Even my mother said so.” He chuckled.

“I got protective of you. Anything that could wipe away the traces of her from me, I’d want to keep. That was you. So, imagine my horror when she came back and I saw her with you. It scared my life out of me, even more than seeing you on the floor with some girl trying to choke you. I’d have done anything to keep you from her.”

“That day on the stairwell, it was her who messaged me. So, I went to see what she wanted. I didn’t think she would want anything to do with you but I was scared she’d run you off. That was the only reason why I agreed when she told me to accompany her to the Galas. I didn’t tell you because; I didn’t know what you’d say. Of course, now I know that was dumber because I hurt you nevertheless. Also the whole thing with Seojoon Hyung…I can’t believe I did that.”

“You were jealous.” You said bluntly, finally breaking your silence and he nodded.

“Can you blame me? In my mind, all I could see was that I was losing you to him. The one thing I didn’t want to happen and it was happening right in front of my eyes. I lost it.”

He reached out suddenly, grabbing my hand to pull me closer to him.

“There, now you know everything. I even did the press conference because I couldn’t reach you. You wouldn’t even take my calls.”

You sighed.

“Taehyung…I like you, I do but…this; this isn’t good for me. I can’t have you become jealous and try to ruin everything, my reputation and yours in a fit of temper. Please,” you said, trying to pull away but he held fast.

A glint of determination shone in his eyes.

“I’ll give it up. If I can’t change then I’ll give it all up. None of this matters if it loses me you.” he said fiercely.

I snorted.

“Then what, you become like Yubin?” you asked backing off but this time he followed, definitely not willing to give up.

“Anything, I’ll do absolutely anything. I have more than enough money, Y/N. I can last well enough till I’m ready to come back to the scene. I only want you to take me back.”

You bite your lips, watching him.

“Why, what’s so special about me?” you asked.

He smiled a soft fond smile.

“You’re you. You’re patient, understanding, strict but kind and reasonable. You’re the first one to comment on my laugh being genuine. You’re the first one I’ve wanted to spend the night with and the first one I’ve wanted to impress.”

He was leaning in; his face so close that you could feel his warm breath waft against your skin.

“I might even say that I’m falling for you.” he whispered.

“If you…” you began, “make a fool out of me again, I will personally castrate you.” you warned.

His eyes widened a tad bit at the warning before he was nodding. “I’ll take it.” he said.

“Good,”

You and Taehyung stared at each other for a minute until the tension in the air reached a crescendo. You huffed and reached out for his shoulders, pulling him to you in a rough and messy kiss.

Taehyung let out a soft growl against your mouth, teeth clashing and nipping at your lips as he let you plunder his mouth, take the kiss the way you wanted.

His hands gripped at your hips, molding the flesh in his large palms as he pulled you tight to his chest. Heat bubbled in your chest, threatening to combust you as you broke off for breath.

“Taehyung,” you gasped and he pulled away; kiss swollen lip panting for breath, looking at you in question.

You looked around your slightly cramped kitchen before nodding to the living room hallway.

“Couch,” You mumbled, and he nodded immediately, ducking slightly and lifting you up so your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you out to your living room, setting you down on the plush material of the sofa before he was withdrawing to the door, locking and bolting it before returning to you.

The kiss he placed over your lips this time was sweeter and yet rough, him taking his time to grab your face in both of his hands.

“The things I want to do to you but I want you to take charge.” He mumbled against your skin and you whined, nails dragging across his covered bicep.

He began to tilt your head to place kisses under your jaw and along your neck and you groaned, your smaller hands running under his shirt to feel his back, pushing the fabric to bunch around his neck.

“Take it off,” you mumbled.

Taehyung obeyed, pulling back to toss the shirt off as he hovered over you again, allowing you to kiss up his chest. He grunted when you closed your mouth over his nipple and gave a hard suckle, peppering more kisses further up his torso.

He grinned down at you even as you sunk your teeth into his shoulder, earning a hissed ‘fuck’.

“You like biting me, baby?” he asked and you blinked owlishly up at him before he was pressing his lips to your again. “I liked it. You can have your way with me however you want.” He promised and your core clenched at his words, all sorts of fantasies coming back to you of months of imagining what you would’ve liked to do to him.

You had always wanted to see what his skin would taste like and now that was one fantasy checked off.

You raised your body up on your elbows and he pushed back onto his haunches, watching you as you began to push him back, making him sit back as you climbed onto his lap, just like the pool.

The way his eyes darkened, you knew he was remembering it too.

“I want to make you pay for all those months of annoying the fuck out of me,” you whispered, your voice husky and breathy and he groaned, head falling back before nodding.

“Go ahead,”

You latched onto his neck at the permission, making sure to leave a dark purple bloom across his golden skin. Taehyung chuckled at that, feeling you devour him as petals blossomed across his upper body.

“Marking me as yours? I might have to annoy you even more.” He teased before jolting as you pinched his left nipple, shutting him up.

You kept your eyes on him, watching his reactions. With the god like face he owned, you had to admit, his expressions only aroused you more as you fiddled with your shirt, unbuttoning it slowly.

Taehyung’s wide eyes followed the skin you bared to him, before his own hands moved, grabbing onto the simple cotton bra you had on, almost ripping it at the clasps to get it off of you.

The moment your bare breasts met his eyes, he smiled wickedly, leaning to take a peak in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, lapping at it with his tongue, giving you the same, if not slightly gentler version of your treatment of him.

Shivers of pleasure rushed up your spine and you curled your fingers in the soft hair at the base of his neck, another fantasy fulfilled, pressing him closer to you.

“Fuck baby, you taste so good, I can’t wait to taste your pussy.” He muttered against you as he bucked his hips into yours.

“Later, take your time later; I want you inside of me now.” You gasped, feeling your wetness pool into your underwear and he pouted but relented.

Gripping your thighs tight, he made you look into his eyes.

“Right now, we’ll do it how you want but the next round I’m taking my time with you and I don’t want you to make a peep.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“Brat,” you muttered at him but he only grinned, letting you clamber off of his lap.

Both of you leaned away to undo your jeans, him tossing his clothes away before pawing at yours, fingers hooking over yours to take your panties off.

“Jesus, look how wet you are, you can’t possibly not let me eat you out.”

For your part, you wanted to taste him too but you just keened, basking in the praise while slipping in a finger into your core to tantalize him into action.

Taehyung’s jaw slacked as he watched you finger yourself open, his eyes darting back and forth between your pussy and face. Finally reaching forward, he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand up to his mouth to suck at your soaked finger.

Damn, the way his tongue wrapped around your index made you want to screech even as he moaned.

“That’ll have to do for now.” He said, before he was driving back for his jeans, fingers fumbling into his pockets for a condom.

Ripping off the foil, he began to slow down to carefully put it on.

“Ready baby?” he asked, rolling it on him, waiting for your permission.

You nodded, quickly, feeling him desperately line himself with you and push in with a hard thrust, burying him into you to the hilt.

A cry escaped you at his roughness. Taehyung’s libido must have suffered from all the abstinence he’s practiced for you and you understood the greed he was dripping with now.

Taehyung cursed, hips rolling into you as he slowly pushed in and out, testing the waters. “Taehyung, please,” you whined again, your legs wrapping around his to drag him in closer to you. “I want you to go faster, harder.” You ordered, remembering his promise and his jaw set, eyes watching yours for any sign of discomfort before he nodded and set a furious pace, pumping him into you.

His face dropped, lips caressing yours as he whispered sweet and filth to you before he was running his fingers down your body, finding your clit as he rubbed it with his thumb.

Pants of your breath and his grunts filled the room, the static noise of a reporter talking about Kim Taehyung interrupting a few short moments of silence before your cries of pleasure drowned out the droning voice again.

“Come for me,” Taehyung said, index and thumb pinching your now swollen and hard nub.

You exploded, stars twinkling behind your eyes as he followed soon after, grunting and groaning as he emptied himself into the condom.

There was a silence as you both reveled in the catharsis of the pent up sexual tension releasing before he was getting off of you, going into the bathroom to dispose of the condom. “We won’t do it again with the TV on,” you grumbled, reaching around for the remote to shut the TV off as you heard him chuckle from inside.

Once he returned, wrapping both of you up in the couch blanket, he nuzzled up into your neck.

“How will you resign if I don’t accept?”

He asked suddenly and you let out a tired chuckle.

#bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #taehyung smut #bts angst #taehyung angst #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung x reader #adulation #bts scenarios #bts imagines

[cards-and-stars]

✧ Astrological Oracle Cards

Author/Artist: Lunaea Weatherstone & Antonella Castelli

Editor: Lo Scarabeo

ISBN: 978-88865271481 ✧ 978-0-88079-965-2

Link: https://shop.loscarabeo.com/index.php?id_product=553&controller=product&id_lang=1

Disclaimer: No matter how much I played with the settings of my camera it just refused to render the colours as muted as they actually are. While they look vibrant on the following pictures, please bear in mind they look much more worn out in reality, keeping with the classical tones associated with the Art Nouveau movement.

Today, let's take a look at an oracle deck. I have selected one of the first ones I acquired, which blends the themes of Astrology and Art Nouveau. It is published by Lo Scarabeo which is quite a big deck editor, offering options for all tastes and needs. In this review, let's focus on the Astrological Oracle Cards.

✧ The Box

The box is a gorgeous, deep, emerald green with accents of silver on the moon, stars and the character's jewellery, as well as on some text. The character represented on the box front is the one you will find on the Luna card.

On the back of the box, you can see a sample of cards (Aries, Cancer, Scorpio and Saturnus). You can also read a short intro: “The wisdom of the stars in everyday living in 22 Art Nouveau cards. Feelings and intuition indicate the path towards the spirituality of the stars”. This is written in 6 different languages: English, French, Italian, German, Spanish and Russian, the languages usually used in every Lo Scarabeo deck. The full telescope box comes with a fabric band to help pick up the cards and booklet. The inside of the box is simply plain green.

It looks and feels gorgeous!

✧ The Cards

To be honest, after seeing such a gorgeous box, I was expecting the cards to bear a similar depth of colour. In actuality, the illustrations remain true to more traditional Art Nouveau palettes, which makes use of warmer but more muted colours.

There are 22 cards, 10 planets and 12 signs, and they are slightly bigger than usual RWS cards, but they remain comfortable to handle. The finish is nice and glossy, with a few small, matte, silver elements ( backgrounds, stars, jewels, hair, etc). The edges are also silver.

Now let's touch on the illustrations.

The planets are illustrated by deities from the Roman pantheon. Some of them will have additional symbols, relevant to their interpretation. For example, Luna has moths in the background, Venus has shells, Neptune has a bunch of sea horses and Pluto has skulls. Jupiter is accompanied by his eagle while Uranus holds a globe. The others are decorated with flowers only.

The two top corners of each Planet card are decorated with flowers, and these framing elements are present on each of those cards, only changing colour from one card to the other. In the top left corner you can find the name of the planet, a glyph in the top right corner and a name-plate at the bottom center of each card. I'm not quite sure why the name appears twice, but It may have something to do with some of the layouts of the Zodiac cards. Overall, each planet card is designed with the same layout, which does bring consistency and feels finished and tidy.

As for the meaning associated with the cards, not all are representative of their astrological properties: for example Mars doesn't convey any energy, power or action and Mercurius doesn't show anything related to intelligence, communication or swiftness. Yet these are the meanings attached to them by the booklet, which would result in a hard time intuitively reading the cards for someone who is unfamiliar with astrology.

The zodiac signs are all illustrated as white women. Now, granted, Art Nouveau focuses almost exclusively on the elegance of the female body, but I do believe that the deck would have benefited from some more variety in representation (more different skin tones, body types, ornament, flora, etc). This uniformity may deter some readers.

Now, where the planet cards showed a consistency in the layout, this is completely thrown out the window in the zodiac cards:

7 cards bear the name of the sign in the top left corner and the glyph in the top right corner (Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Aquarius and Pisces).

The other 5 cards also show the title and glyph of each sign, but they are complemented by an additional illustration of the said sign:

3 cards show the illustration within a circle, located at the bottom center of the cards (Aries, Cancer, Capricorn).

1 card shows such a circle but it is located to the bottom left (which is ironic, because it's the Libra card, the one that SHOULD display balance).

1 card shows the illustration in a rectangle, located at the bottom center (Scorpio).

1 card has this rectangle on the bottom left (Taurus) and one on the bottom right (Leo).

When sorted by element or mode, the cards do not show more coordination either. (the Earth signs almost had something going with 2/3 cards having a green undertone).

As an artist and fan of Art Nouveau, this sort of random composition stands out like a sore thumb to me. I would have understood if each card was different, if the extra illustrations for the signs were (or were not) present on every card, but no such luck.

As for the illustrations themselves, some of them are really on point (the water signs clearly display more emotions than other signs and Gemini, Sagittarius, Virgo and Capricorn are quite representative of their sign. Other signs look more generic and less inspired, such as Aries, Taurus, Leo, Scorpio and Aquarius.

The back of the cards is decorated with a symmetric deign made of pomegranates and stars, with the same muted colours as the card fronts. Why pomegranates? They are the symbol of Persephone/Proserpina, who is not referred to in any of the cards. There are so many symbols that could have been more relevant to the theme, such as a zodiac wheel, or the 4 elements, or constellations, etc.

✧ The Little White Book

At first glance, the booklet is an impressive 192 pages long. However, you have to account for the fact that it contains 6 different parts, one per language. The actual content is about 50 pages per language. It starts off with the interpretations of the signs, the planets and the houses (while there are no cards representing the 12 astrological houses, they will come up in the recommended spreads).

It proceeds to present two different spread. In the first spread, you draw two planet cards (therefore all planet combinations are covered in the booklet). In the second, you create an astrological wheel, pulling the sign that corresponds to the 1st house at random and then arranging the other signs accordingly. You then select the house you want to focus on and draw a planet card to place there. All the planet-sign combinations are also available in the booklet. Also, the houses are explained again in this part of the book, with a shorter blurb this time (more like a reminder). I actually really like this one spread and will probably build up on it. All in all, the booklet covers a lot of information.

The last page shows the glyphs of the planets and signs.

The cover is adorned with Luna while the back is illustrated with Sol, both enhanced by the gorgeous silver effects you find on the box.

✧ Conclusion

▐ Likes

Astrology and Art Nouveau.That's a killer combo!

Lovely illustrations and finish.

The suggested spreads are interesting and a bit out of the ordinary.

The booklet is very interesting and provides a lot of interpretations based on combinations of 2 planets and of a sign and a planet.

▐ Dislikes

The box and the cards don't feel like they are part of a set.

Some card illustrations seem uninspired.

No consistency in the cards design.

The depth of symbolism found is Astrology is left unutilised in the illustrations.

Some cards do not convey their actual meaning easily (or at all)

To be perfectly candid, I like this deck. Despite all it's flaws, I still refer to these cards as signifiers in my readings because Art Nouveau speaks to me on a deeper level.

However as someone who's education was about the visual arts, their history and their critique, I have to admit it feels superficial and rushed. The illustrations are shallow interpretations of the signs and planets, carefully avoiding the wealth of symbols and correspondences associated with each of them. This can be a problem for readers who have no background in Astrology and can make it hard to read as there is no deeper meaning to rely on.

I also picked up some favouritism when it comes to the signs cards. Some clearly had more effort put into them, while others only get a generic illustration.

This prompted me to look further into the artist's work. It turns out that the Neo Art Nouveau style is her speciality and she has illustrated numerous decks. I am quite surprised as I would not consider this deck a success. I might, in the future, purchase another deck illustrated by the artist, for the sake of comparison and also to give her another chance.

Overall, while I still enjoy this deck, looking in detail into it made me realise how imperfect it is. It also allowed me to realise how the cards have a very low energy feel to them. So while it is a pretty deck, it is not perfect. If you think this could bother you, I would not recommend this deck. But if you don't mind and have a good knowledge of astrology, then why not give it a shot?

✧ Rating

✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧

Thank you for reading and see you later, little MonStars!

#oracle deck #oracle #cartomancy #astrology #moon #luna #sol #sun #mercury #mars #venus #jupiter #saturn #uranus #neptune #pluto #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #zodiac #birth chart

[the-nysh]

I find myself unable to think of Bakugou in any way more positive than "dislike", because he reminds me too much of the people who made my life miserable when I was growing up. (Not that it makes him bad; it's just my emotions.) Do you've any advice on how to bend my mind around that? I don't need to LOVE him, just mentally separate "him" and "the people who make grade school suck for me" so I won't irrationally hate him, because I don't LIKE hating characters.

Hi there! I’m glad to see you come forward, especially tosomeone who’s a big fan of him, after happening to see how far you’veventured through my tags already (whoa dedication!) to seek possible answers or further clarity about this,especially if it’s something that’s still bothering you, oraffecting/preventing you from fully enjoying the series. Because of that, I cantell how serious and genuine you feel about this, so I will take this seriouslyas well. 

(Below, 1800+ words)

Another thing is that it’s okay to feel this way, your personal experiences are still valid,and there’s no obligation to force your feelings otherwise, or subject yourselfto content that may be uncomfortable for you. Please continue to take all theprecautions needed (blocking/blacklisting) for an enjoyable and productivefandom experience. But understanding that even if the characters may havecoincidental similarities to our pasts, they are not direct projections of us, the people in our lives, or our realities.Their world is not ours. So this awareness is another good step to have, tobegin seeing the story (and characters) more openly, objectively and closer tohow Hori originally intended.

Since you’re willing to learn more, and as you may have already seenfrom my content here, Bakugou (Kacchan)became my definitive fav character of the series, but not for thoselingering resentments mentioned. The compelling character I see is so much morebeyond that first ch’s established baseline, which was narratively placed and designedto contrast against who he becomes later on. As a means to gauge and appreciatehis growth and the journey of how far he’s changed into becoming a proper,well-rounded, better person and inspirationalhero. The kind of emotional narrativefocus that always gains my interest and priority to see develop. Already, theperson he is now at 215+ chs is not the same as who he was at ch1 (neither ishe the flanderized, fanon stereotype many have been misled or indoctrinated tofirmly believe he is), and he will keepon developing as the story marches on. I am fully on board to witness thathappen. 

The challenge now, is not letting his initial baseline impression(or the feelings from your own separate –but equally valid– experiences, oreven the vitriol from others) stain or cloud that entire slow-burn progressionof the story going forward. Otherwise the important milestones and insightsinto his character that Hori leaves along the way (which can sometimes bedifficult to see from Deku’s limited pov) end up getting obscured, ignored, oroutright rejected from an internalized feeling of ‘hatred’ that tends to blockout anything newly introduced that would challenge that preconceived perceptionof him. However, to mentally reject such change and prevent the valuedimprovement of a growing person (a learning child in his formative years, forinstance), to otherwise keep the status quo static and unmoving, to permanentlystay rooted exactly the same way as thestart…would in fact be a much more toxic/harmful mindset to have, and actuallydefeats the purpose of telling a proper story as well. 

Setbacks to that challenge unfortunately include thewidespread availability of biased mistranslations (even from official sources),poor/oversimplified characterizations from non-canon content(movies/novels/merch, etc) that’s not written directly by Hori, because all thesethings just reinforce and exacerbate the problem of inflating fanon stereotypesand those preconceived notions that people have already solidified in theirminds as true (when they often aren’t). It gets even worse, and ironicallyhypocritical, when those same people start feeling justified they can go out oftheir way to attack others (includingthe author) for how to ‘properly’ enjoy and interpret the series (for beingdifferent or ‘incorrect’ from the perceptions they believe to be right). Butwhat’s happened is they’ve begun to blindly act on feelings multiple levels sofar removed from what actually is (whatexists as presented within canon, vs what they believe in fanon, vs what exists separately that may beplaguing these people’s real lives), that by then, that kind of maladjustedsocial behavior is inexcusable. Stepping back and realizing when things start crossinglines irrationally out of hand, to prevent that kind of behavior from happeningin the first place, (and again, by taking measures to block/blacklist stuff thataggravates or makes you feel uncomfortable), is the much wiser approach toparticipating and enjoying fandom. So that no matter what happens or what otherssay, they can’t impact or ruin what you love about the series.

Which in my case, includes Kacchan’s character. Basedon what Hori has consistently presented in canon, I can conclude and freely admithe’s the only character I can fully trust. Amazing, right? Because he hasabsolutely nothing to hide. Everything he does (not through his harshwords/temperament, but through his genuine actions),is extremely forthright and honest. He does not half-ass things or hide anyother ulterior motives or malicious intent beyond his dedication to become the best hero. And he takes that goal very seriously. Striving for and expectingexcellence from himself (and all themental pressure that self-imposed perfectionism brings) and others. Currently in the manga that includes Deku now too, whomhe willingly goads (showing support in his own way) and checks in on for hisprogress too.

Remember his fights in the sports tournament, how he takesall challengers with equal commitment/opportunity (gender does not matter),provided they give him their best inturn as well, because to do otherwise –to go easy on them or hold back– wouldbe disrespectful and underestimating an opponent. There’s a very just and admirablehonor in that. Remember how he can’tstand anyone looking down on him, which includes how he misinterpreted Deku’sfeelings of admiration for disdain(he could not accurately read Deku’s intentions, and became so perplexed by himthat he assumed the worst: that Deku looked down on him instead). Considering the level of seriousness and effort he alwaysputs forth, to be confronted with the opposite would be personally insulting.

Remember when the villains invited him to join their ranks(because they misread and shallowly judged his character), he stuck to his idealsand outright refused their offer.(Boldly exploding villains in the face~) Risking death over playing it safe andlying to pretend to follow along totheir whims. (How brave and badass is that?!) Kacchan does not lie, cheat theeasy way out, or do things he’s not feeling or doesn’t agree with. Again, honesty. Becoming a villain, a traitor,or betraying those who’ve earned his trust? Absolutely no chance. Afterlearning AM’s secret and finally understanding/rectifying everything that didn’tadd up about Deku, would he go behind their backs by breaking promises? No way.Again, most trustworthy character. 

Rereading the story a second time over, but from his perspective, practically doubled myappreciation and enjoyment of the series. Thinking about how the foundations oftheir society impacted his world views at such a young age, to the very betrayal he must have felt thinking achildhood friend lied to him aboutsomething as important/vital as a quirk. (And if we already know how he feelsabout cheating liars…hmm, faithful loyaltynow feels like a valued trait.) Other factors include his relatable giftedchild syndrome, all the complexes born from that, and for how extremely intelligent,competent, and much more calmly calculating he is than his short temper may lead one to believe. How he was oncea ‘big fish in a small pond’, now thrust into the ocean to compete among evenother bigger fish, with the pressure to both succeed and prove himself…all whilehis previous world views are checked and challenged every step of the way.

For years he’d been valued and praised for only the promisingpotential and primary trait of his strong quirk. (The reinforcement for his badbehavior on the other hand? Not valued with the same proper attention.) Alreadythat’s an unfortunate consequence of their quirk-filled, hero-commodified society. Think of justhow shallow/fake groupies would be, or how annoying and hollow it would feel tohave people cling to him just for that (for talent and skills over his meritsas a person), and just how difficult forming genuine, natural bonds would be… (Becomingself-reliant now becomes another added pressure he has to juggle on his own.) Beforequirks had ever entered the picture and complicated things further, Deku was probablyconsidered the closest friend he had. Until…misunderstandings happened, andthen the only thing he wanted was for Deku to stay away from him. (A misconception is that Kacchan actively soughtDeku out, when it’s actually the opposite: Kacchan only reacted if Dekuencroached on him too closely.) Because he feared how Deku made him feel,forcing him to face his own shortcomings, and address perceptions of reality hedid not want to face. Because for someone he perceived as the weakest, to boldly goagainst that and do what Deku did (help him out of concern/kindness, but thatintent only read as pitying to him),made him feel even below that. And what’slower than the low of the weakest/most useless? Pretty ouch, so stop followingand stay back. Yet Deku just kept on coming back no matter what, for reasons hecouldn’t yet understand. (Deku felt genuine care and admiration for him, whichKacchan hadn’t realized, so gah, dramatic irony.) His changing feelings, correctinghis attitude, and clarifying his relationship to Deku, who continually challengesand defies his very worldview and perception of weakness, brings a whole otherfascinating draw to the series, which would take a whole other essay to fully analyze(but which many other fans have thoroughly done so already). 

Further considerations include his struggles facing other relatablefeelings. How he confronts the pain and weight of experiencing loss, survivor’sguilt, and assessing powerlessness and the inability to save situations beyondhis control. Internalizing self-doubt, hatred, failure, and inferiority…because‘if only he were stronger.’ What Isee is a child overburdened by expectations and responsibilities beyond hisyears…who has to learn to process and overcome many of those same feelings I’vealready gone through and had to come to terms with growing up. (The very reasonhe’s often and endearingly referred to as a ‘son.’) The majority of adults inhis life assumed he was already ‘strong enough’ and ‘fine’ on his own, theyneglected to give him proper mental guidance going forward (AM even admitsthis). And we unfortunately see the tragic consequences of that. But fortunately,things are getting better, and Hori’s story for him still isn’t over yet.   

Overall, what I see is the chance for an excellent,multi-layered, and well-written character to become even better. And that’s why his narrative is so particularly engaging. Doeshe remind me of the kids that once made certain social aspects of grade schoolinsufferable? No, because that’s not who he is; he’s so far removed and beyond them, that they’ve become extras whono longer matter anymore. Instead of lingering on such negatives, it’s insteadthe positive aspects about him that shine through even stronger. The fact heisn’t perfect, but deeply flawed and learning to address his shortcomings in nowmore productive ways. This progression and growth makes him interesting, and combinedwith the many other traits I’ve mentioned above, favored and loved bymany. Although ultimately I can’t change your opinion about him (that’s stillup to you to decide, and it’s ok to still dislike characters), hopefully I’veintroduced new ways of perceiving and appreciating his character for you. Tohelp see some of the positives that Deku always valued in him as a drivingsource of inspiration too: to strive hard despite life’s setbacks, and win. ‘He may be a jerk, but he’s amazing.’

#pomrania #replies #bnha #kacchan #meta #manga spoilers #long post #speaking from the perspective of him as my fav #hopefully this sheds some new light #(and i think i covered everything i wanted to say) #this is also why i mentioned before that the message of mp100’s mogami arc is important #and what i mean when i say minori’s ‘imcomparable levels of cruelty’ #because kacchan is definitely not that #but the ability to change; grow; and forgive even the worst of who people used to be #is multitudes more valuable; stronger; and daresay heroic #than regressing into a hateful vestige of a non-functioning human like mogami #that kind of message still rings true here #the fact deku still cares despite seeing the worst from him is testament to how genuine his feelings are for him too #so instead of focusing on the worst...here i explain those cherished positives too

[justforbooks]

If Stan Lee revolutionized the comic book world in the 1960s, which he did, he left as big a stamp — maybe bigger — on the even wider pop culture landscape of today.

Think of “Spider-Man,” the blockbuster movie franchise and Broadway spectacle. Think of “Iron Man,” another Hollywood gold-mine series personified by its star, Robert Downey Jr. Think of “Black Panther,” the box-office superhero smash that shattered big screen racial barriers in the process.

And that is to say nothing of the Hulk, the X-Men, Thor and other film and television juggernauts that have stirred the popular imagination and made many people very rich.

If all that entertainment product can be traced to one person, it would be Stan Lee, who died in Los Angeles on Monday at 95. From a cluttered office on Madison Avenue in Manhattan in the 1960s, he helped conjure a lineup of pulp-fiction heroes that has come to define much of popular culture in the early 21st century.

Mr. Lee was a central player in the creation of those characters and more, all properties of Marvel Comics. Indeed, he was for many the embodiment of Marvel, if not comic books in general, overseeing the company’s emergence as an international media behemoth. A writer, editor, publisher, Hollywood executive and tireless promoter (of Marvel and of himself), he played a critical role in what comics fans call the medium’s silver age.

Many believe that Marvel, under his leadership and infused with his colorful voice, crystallized that era, one of exploding sales, increasingly complex characters and stories, and growing cultural legitimacy for the medium. (Marvel’s chief competitor at the time, National Periodical Publications, now known as DC — the home of Superman and Batman, among other characters — augured this period, with its 1956 update of its superhero the Flash, but did not define it.)

Under Mr. Lee, Marvel transformed the comic book world by imbuing its characters with the self-doubts and neuroses of average people, as well an awareness of trends and social causes and, often, a sense of humor.

In humanizing his heroes, giving them character flaws and insecurities that belied their supernatural strengths, Mr. Lee tried “to make them real flesh-and-blood characters with personality,” he told The Washington Post in 1992.

Energetic, gregarious, optimistic and alternately grandiose and self-effacing, Mr. Lee was an effective salesman, employing a Barnumesque syntax in print (“Face front, true believer!” “Make mine Marvel!”) to market Marvel’s products to a rabid following.

He charmed readers with jokey, conspiratorial comments and asterisked asides in narrative panels, often referring them to previous issues. In 2003 he told The Los Angeles Times, “I wanted the reader to feel we were all friends, that we were sharing some private fun that the outside world wasn’t aware of.”

Though Mr. Lee was often criticized for his role in denying rights and royalties to his artistic collaborators , his involvement in the conception of many of Marvel’s best-known characters is indisputable.

He was born Stanley Martin Lieber on Dec. 28, 1922, in Manhattan, the older of two sons born to Jack Lieber, an occasionally employed dress cutter, and Celia (Solomon) Lieber, both immigrants from Romania. The family moved to the Bronx.

Stanley began reading Shakespeare at 10 while also devouring pulp magazines, the novels of Arthur Conan Doyle, Edgar Rice Burroughs and Mark Twain, and the swashbuckler movies of Errol Flynn.

He graduated at 17 from DeWitt Clinton High School in the Bronx and aspired to be a writer of serious literature. He was set on the path to becoming a different kind of writer when, after a few false starts at other jobs, he was hired at Timely Publications, a company owned by Martin Goodman, a relative who had made his name in pulp magazines and was entering the comics field.

Mr. Lee was initially paid $8 a week as an office gofer. Eventually he was writing and editing stories, many in the superhero genre.

At Timely he worked with the artist Jack Kirby (1917-94), who, with a writing partner, Joe Simon, had created the hit character Captain America, and who would eventually play a vital role in Mr. Lee’s career. When Mr. Simon and Mr. Kirby, Timely’s hottest stars, were lured away by a rival company, Mr. Lee was appointed chief editor.

As a writer, Mr. Lee could be startlingly prolific. “Almost everything I’ve ever written I could finish at one sitting,” he once said. “I’m a fast writer. Maybe not the best, but the fastest.”

Mr. Lee used several pseudonyms to give the impression that Marvel had a large stable of writers; the name that stuck was simply his first name split in two. (In the 1970s, he legally changed Lieber to Lee.)

During World War II, Mr. Lee wrote training manuals stateside in the Army Signal Corps while moonlighting as a comics writer. In 1947, he married Joan Boocock, a former model who had moved to New York from her native England.

His daughter Joan Celia Lee, who is known as J. C., was born in 1950; another daughter, Jan, died three days after birth in 1953. Mr. Lee’s wife died in 2017.

A lawyer for Ms. Lee, Kirk Schenck, confirmed Mr. Lee’s death, at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles.

In addition to his daughter, he is survived by Ms. Lee and his younger brother, Larry Lieber, who drew the “Amazing Spider-Man” syndicated newspaper strip for years.

In the mid-1940s, the peak of the golden age of comic books, sales boomed. But later, as plots and characters turned increasingly lurid (especially at EC, a Marvel competitor that published titles like Tales From the Crypt and The Vault of Horror), many adults clamored for censorship. In 1954, a Senate subcommittee led by the Tennessee Democrat Estes Kefauver held hearings investigating allegations that comics promoted immorality and juvenile delinquency.

Feeding the senator’s crusade was the psychiatrist Fredric Wertham’s 1954 anti-comics jeremiad, “Seduction of the Innocent.” Among other claims, the book contended that DC’s “Batman stories” — featuring the team of Batman and Robin — were “psychologically homosexual.”

Choosing to police itself rather than accept legislation, the comics industry established the Comics Code Authority to ensure wholesome content. Gore and moral ambiguity were out, but so largely were wit, literary influences and attention to social issues. Innocuous cookie-cutter exercises in genre were in.

Many found the sanitized comics boring, and — with the new medium of television providing competition — readership, which at one point had reached 600 million sales annually, declined by almost three-quarters within a few years.

With the dimming of superhero comics’ golden age, Mr. Lee tired of grinding out generic humor, romance, western and monster stories for what had by then become Atlas Comics. Reaching a career impasse in his 30s, he was encouraged by his wife to write the comics he wanted to, not merely what was considered marketable. And Mr. Goodman, his boss, spurred by the popularity of a rebooted Flash (and later Green Lantern) at DC, wanted him to revisit superheroes.

Mr. Lee took Mr. Goodman up on his suggestion, but he carried its implications much further.

In 1961, Mr. Lee and Mr. Kirby — whom he had brought back years before to the company, now known as Marvel — produced the first issue of The Fantastic Four, about a superpowered team with humanizing dimensions: nonsecret identities, internal squabbles and, in the orange-rock-skinned Thing, self-torment. It was a hit.

Other Marvel titles — like the Lee-Kirby creation The Incredible Hulk, a modern Jekyll-and-Hyde story about a decent man transformed by radiation into a monster — offered a similar template. The quintessential Lee hero, introduced in 1962 and created with the artist Steve Ditko (1927-2018), was Spider-Man.

A timid high school intellectual who gained his powers when bitten by a radioactive spider, Spider-Man was prone to soul-searching, leavened with wisecracks — a key to the character’s lasting popularity across multiple entertainment platforms, including movies and a Broadway musical.

Mr. Lee’s dialogue encompassed Catskills shtick, like Spider-Man’s patter in battle; Elizabethan idioms, like Thor’s; and working-class Lower East Side swagger, like the Thing’s. It could also include dime-store poetry, as in this eco-oratory about humans, uttered by the Silver Surfer, a space alien:

“And yet — in their uncontrollable insanity — in their unforgivable blindness — they seek to destroy this shining jewel — this softly spinning gem — this tiny blessed sphere — which men call Earth!”

Mr. Lee practiced what he called the Marvel method: Instead of handing artists scripts to illustrate, he summarized stories and let the artists draw them and fill in plot details as they chose. He then added sound effects and dialogue. Sometimes he would discover on penciled pages that new characters had been added to the narrative. Such surprises (like the Silver Surfer, a Kirby creation and a Lee favorite) would lead to questions of character ownership.

Mr. Lee was often faulted for not adequately acknowledging the contributions of his illustrators, especially Mr. Kirby. Spider-Man became Marvel’s best-known property, but Mr. Ditko, its co-creator, quit Marvel in bitterness in 1966. Mr. Kirby, who visually designed countless characters, left in 1969. Though he reunited with Mr. Lee for a Silver Surfer graphic novel in 1978, their heyday had ended.

Many comic fans believe that Mr. Kirby was wrongly deprived of royalties and original artwork in his lifetime, and for years the Kirby estate sought to acquire rights to characters that Mr. Kirby and Mr. Lee had created together. Mr. Kirby’s heirs were long rebuffed in court on the grounds that he had done “work for hire” — in other words, that he had essentially sold his art without expecting royalties.

In September 2014, Marvel and the Kirby estate reached a settlement. Mr. Lee and Mr. Kirby now both receive credit on numerous screen productions based on their work.

Mr. Lee moved to Los Angeles in 1980 to develop Marvel properties, but most of his attempts at live-action television and movies were disappointing. (The series “The Incredible Hulk,” seen on CBS from 1978 to 1982, was an exception.)

Avi Arad, an executive at Toy Biz, a company in which Marvel had bought a controlling interest, began to revive the company’s Hollywood fortunes, particularly with an animated “X-Men” series on Fox, which ran from 1992 to 1997. (Its success helped pave the way for the live-action big-screen “X-Men” franchise, which has flourished since its first installment, in 2000.)

In the late 1990s, Mr. Lee was named chairman emeritus at Marvel and began to explore outside projects. While his personal appearances (including charging fans $120 for an autograph) were one source of income, later attempts to create wholly owned superhero properties foundered. Stan Lee Media, a digital content start-up, crashed in 2000 and landed his business partner, Peter F. Paul, in prison for securities fraud. (Mr. Lee was never charged.)

In 2001, Mr. Lee started POW! Entertainment (the initials stand for “purveyors of wonder”), but he received almost no income from Marvel movies and TV series until he won a court fight with Marvel Enterprises in 2005, leading to an undisclosed settlement costing Marvel $10 million. In 2009, the Walt Disney Company, which had agreed to pay $4 billion to acquire Marvel, announced that it had paid $2.5 million to increase its stake in POW!

In Mr. Lee’s final years, after the death of his wife, the circumstances of his business affairs and contentious financial relationship with his surviving daughter attracted attention in the news media. In 2018, Mr. Lee was embroiled in disputes with POW!, and The Daily Beast and The Hollywood Reporter ran accounts of fierce infighting among Mr. Lee’s daughter, household staff and business advisers. The Hollywood Reporter claimed “elder abuse.”

In February 2018, Mr. Lee signed a notarized document declaring that three men — a lawyer, a caretaker of Mr. Lee’s and a dealer in memorabilia — had “insinuated themselves into relationships with J. C. for an ulterior motive and purpose,” to “gain control over my assets, property and money.” He later withdrew his claim, but longtime aides of his — an assistant, an accountant and a housekeeper — were either dismissed or greatly limited in their contact with him.

In a profile in The New York Times in April, a cheerful Mr. Lee said, “I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” adding that “my daughter has been a great help to me” and that “life is pretty good” — although he admitted in that same interview, “I’ve been very careless with money.”

Marvel movies, however, have proved a cash cow for major studios, if not so much for Mr. Lee. With the blockbuster “Spider-Man” in 2002, Marvel superhero films hit their stride. Such movies (including franchises starring Iron Man, Thor and the superhero team the Avengers, to name but three) together had grossed more than $24 billion worldwide as of April.

“Black Panther,” the first Marvel movie directed by an African-American (Ryan Coogler) and starring an almost all-black cast, took in about $201.8 million domestically when it opened over the four-day Presidents’ Day weekend this year, the fifth-biggest opening of all time.

Many other film properties are in development, in addition to sequels in established franchises. Characters Mr. Lee had a hand in creating now enjoy a degree of cultural penetration they have never had before.

Mr. Lee wrote a slim memoir, “Excelsior! The Amazing Life of Stan Lee,” with George Mair, published in 2002. His 2015 book, “Amazing Fantastic Incredible: A Marvelous Memoir” (written with Peter David and illustrated in comic-book form by Colleen Doran), pays abundant credit to the artists many fans believed he had shortchanged years before.

Recent Marvel films and TV shows have also often credited Mr. Lee’s former collaborators; Mr. Lee himself has almost always received an executive producer credit. His cameo appearances in them became something of a tradition. (Even “Teen Titans Go! to the Movies,” an animated feature in 2018 about a DC superteam, had more than one Lee cameo.) TV shows bearing his name or presence have included the reality series “Stan Lee’s Superhumans” and the competition show “Who Wants to Be a Superhero?”

Mr. Lee’s unwavering energy suggested that he possessed superpowers himself. (In his 90s he had a Twitter account, @TheRealStanlee.) And the National Endowment for the Arts acknowledged as much when it awarded him a National Medal of Arts in 2008. But he was frustrated, like all humans, by mortality.

“I want to do more movies, I want to do more television, more DVDs, more multi-sodes, I want to do more lecturing, I want to do more of everything I’m doing,” he said in “With Great Power …: The Stan Lee Story,” a 2010 television documentary. “The only problem is time. I just wish there were more time.”

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS

[northlandian]

How I Fell in Love with Marvel

As a die-hard MCU fan today, it's hard to imagine where I would be and what I would be interested in today if it wasn't for my discovery of these fantastic movies. This is the story of how I accidentally saw my favourite movie to date, resulting in me finding one of my greatest passions today.

For context, before that day occurred, the closest I had been to anything Marvel related was having seen the original Spider-Man movies, 1 through 3, and I actually liked them (well, except for the obvious). A few years after that, I also saw Guardians of the Galaxy in theatres, which also happened to be on accident, as I was cottaging in a small county during the summer, and my sister and I were bored one night. However, Guardians wasn't enough to reel me in. If I'm being completely honest, it was never one of my favourite MCU movies (I even prefer the sequel over it). Not that it's not good, it was, but at the time, there was a lot of information thrown at me all at once that I didn't quite get because I didn't see any movies previous to it. Obviously, being young, stupid, and not that into that kind of stuff at the time, I didn't know I was supposed to. 

It's also worth noting though, that before this accident I'm about to delve into occurred, I knew I wanted to be a Marvel fan. I had seen the Spider-Man movies and enjoyed them (although I didn't know that the MCU would differ from those, but anyways), so I knew there was a fairly good chance I would enjoy the others. Just the idea of these incredible fighters had always intrigued me, and it's probably why I enjoy video games as well. But I also wanted to feel like I was part of something, something bigger than myself. I was over my book phase, Gravity Falls had just ended, and I had finished all the Harry Potter movies... I wanted to find something else to love. But at the same time, I could never really find the time or effort to catch up on however-many countless movies were out at the time.

SO, without further ado, this is how I happened upon the MCU.

First of all, it was near the end of December 2017...yes, this took place just last year, I'm aware of how new I am and I only wish it could have happened sooner.

Anyways, my sister and I were staying at my cousin's for a few days during the winter break. We decided to go downtown for the day, which included seeing a movie. We hadn't bought the tickets ahead of time, but we were planning on seeing Coco - I had only heard good things, so we were all really excited. We get to the theatre, and one of my cousins goes to buy the tickets, while I wait with her three little brothers and my sister. Eventually, she comes back, only to tell us that Coco was sold out...big bummer for me. There was nothing else to see. My sister began complaining. My cousin then informs us that she had instead, purchased us all tickets for the new Thor movie...what? Her brothers seemed happy about it, and I decided to grin and bear it, but I gave my sister one look and knew I'd be sitting through one boring boy's movie. Whatever. I'd get it over with.

So we sit down in the theatre, we sit through the previews (I saw the preview for Black Panther for the first time, and ironically thought, "huh, that looks pretty good"), and the Marvel logo comes on. First impressions? Well, it was pretty cool. It was my first time seeing the newest Marvel logo, considering Guardians never had it.

Then it pans down to Thor, and he starts monologuing in his deep Asgardian accent, and I'm expecting it to be expositional and boring but...wait, it's not? It was actually pretty funny. The Surtur scene continues, and now first impressions are really kicking in... they were able to make it expositional and funny at the same time, and it worked well. Then the fight began, and suddenly, I was like...woah. These fight scenes are really good. Like. Really good. I found the camera angles made to follow the hammer very cool. Enemies were being taken out like dominos. Even Thor using his hammer as a shield against Surtur's fiery breath was literally a battle move I had doodled all the time! And now I was seeing it in front of me! Then, of course, his escape. I fell in love with the score instantly. The Bifrost aesthetic had me captivated. And from the moment the camera panned up into birds-eye view to read "Thor: Ragnarok", I knew this movie was going to be a bit more than interesting.

Suffice it to say, first impressions were good.

I won't go into detail about every scene like I just did, but I'll highlight the important ones that really made the movie for me.

Loki's introduction. Little did I know I'd be meeting one of my favourite characters of all time. His magical capabilities were revealed instantly for a first-timer like me, something I appreciated at the time I was watching. So was his relationship with Thor; not all of it, obviously, because there are many, many layers, but it was enough for me to determine that he was someone who had the kind of relationship that allowed him to act very jokingly, as seen while also being very jealous deep down, and expressing resentment (his desires of wanting to be King, making a stage production out of his own death, exiling his own father, etc). I could also pick up his immediate character traits fairly quickly - he’s funny, he's someone who practically embodies trouble, and he will always put himself first. It was unclear how much he truly did care for others, specifically his brother, but then again, it's been like that throughout most of the MCU anyways. I, of course, did not know why he was the way he was, but his personality had me intrigued from the very beginning.

The references made to past MCU movies. Believe it or not, I wasn't completely lost, unlike with Guardians. The reason for this was because it was presented in a way that made it so simple. For example, Loki faked his death. How do I know? Because Thor comes back to a stage production about it, but surprise! He's not dead. Another example is, Hulk and Thor always fight alongside each other. How do I know? "He's a friend from work". "Work" obviously being the Avengers (I didn't live completely under a rock, at least), and "friend" being enough to tell me that they were on pretty good terms the last they saw each other. Even the line "adopted" being enough to tell me that there was some deeper story behind why Loki is the way he is. It was small things like that that really set this particular movie apart, and sure, there were some references I didn't catch until seeing the previous movies ("Yes! That's how it feels!"), but it was nice to not always be in the dark about everything. 

Valkyrie. Literally, everything about this character. I hadn't exactly been acquainted to Natasha Romanoff yet, so she was the first female badass I had ever had the pleasure of watching. From the moment she's introduced, you can tell she has a deep backstory. Her confrontation with Loki had me rolling when she beat the crap out of him, and then proceeded to throw a bottle at him shortly after. And of course, there's her entrance onto Asgard... enough said. 

The last thing I'm going to mention goes out to the film's director, Taika Waititi, as well as the perfect portrayal performed by the actors, and that is the constant humour in the movie. Perfect example: “Get help”. It had me rolling. This is why I always consider it the most wonderful, yet coincidental incident because the truth is, if it was any other MCU movie, I wouldn't have been enticed enough. The movie was so damn funny, I must've laughed through half of it. Before I had seen it, I didn't know Marvel didn't take themselves so seriously. Or at least, I didn't know they didn't have to. I know now of course that that movie specifically was purposed to completely rebrand Thor in order to make him more interesting, and damn, did they do a good job. 

So, that last point especially lingered as I left the theatre that day. I cannot express how much I thought about that movie for the rest of the night, which rarely happened to me, as it only happens when I watch something really good. The best thing I can think to compare it to was when the author of the journals was revealed in Gravity Falls (for those who have seen it). I even remember asking my cousin, "Wow, I had no idea Marvel movies were that good. Are they that funny in all the movies?". She responded, "Yeah, we should definitely watch the Avengers tonight", to which I agreed.

We watched Wonder Woman. I was highly unimpressed. Sorry, not a DC stan, never will be. 

But when I got home from my cousin's, I did end up watching it. And then I watched Ultron. Then the Thor's. Then the Iron Man's. Then the Captain America's. I loved them all. I even enjoyed Guardian's 2 and Spider-Man: Homecoming, as I was hesitant about both. A few months later, I went back to the theatres to see Black Panther, just like I wanted to. With each time I watched and rewatched the movies, I fell more in love with the characters, I picked apart more from the storyline, made sure I knew every after-credits scene...started crafting my own theories for Infinity War. 

And of course, little did I know, it would smash my heart to pieces not five months after I first discovered it. 

And now, here I am, still obsessing over these movies, still undecided on who I could possibly like more, Thor or Loki, just as I felt from the moment I left the theatre for the first time. It's cool to think I found my passion on a happy accident, and it's weird to think that considering how happy it's kept me, what I'd be doing without it today.

#marvel #MCU #storytime #thor ragnarok #thor #loki #avengers #iron man #captain america #spider-man #guardians of the galaxy #origin #story #love

[secretcinema3]

Ten Thoughts Inspired By: A Bout de Souffle

1. Before I ever saw the film I saw this poster. As soon as I laid eyes on it I knew I had to see the film. It radiated cool energy. And that title. At once a declaration of the film’s style and the viewer’s response to it. A promise and a boast. Stylish. Sexy. Breathless. But its original title, A Bout de Souffle, translates as Out Of Breath. That’s a B-movie title, slang for death, like Chandler’s The Big Sleep. Consider if they’d used that as the English title instead. Would the film have attained such a cool reputation? Just imagine it on the poster. Stylish. Sexy. Out Of Breath. Suddenly it’s not so much an intimation of awed wonder as middle-aged decline. My younger self probably wouldn’t have been so impressed, but so what? Does it matter? A title’s just a title, after all, a way of identifying one film from another. Sure, mostly, but it’s not always that simple. Consider these titles for example: Stranger Than Paradise. Some Like It Hot. White Heat. Touch of Evil. Now each of these could, at a push, describe what happens in their respective films, but I don’t think that’s what’s going on when we read them. They’re not merely labels, they’re suggestive, free-floating, haikus of compressed mood. Yes, a good title can define a film, capture its essence, but it can also add to it, deepen it, complicate it. It’s a chemical reaction. Just think of the mysterious, symbiotic relationship we have with names and they have with us. Do they shape us, do we grow into them? If you don’t believe this then consider these possible alternative titles for the films above; Losers. TransAmerica. Mother Love. The Mexican. Does it make a difference? It’s hard to say, but this much is clear, the anonymous translator tasked with finding an English version for A Bout de Souffle clearly thought so.

2. The film of tomorrow will not be directed by civil servants of the camera, but by artists for whom shooting a film constitutes a wonderful and thrilling adventure. – Francois Truffaut

The famous dedication is to Monogram Pictures. Monogram were a poverty row studio specialising in cheap genre flicks, serials and westerns. So what was the attraction for serious French cinephiles like Truffaut and Godard? Well, for starters, because they were largely ignored they were an undiscovered continent, ripe for reappraisal. They often relied on genre conventions, offering rich ground for theorising, for detecting encoded meanings, hidden ideas, themes build up across a body of work. Also because they had less to lose they could show the seemier side of existence more freely than bigger studio productions, the kind of exploitation subjects considered beneath proper art. Some French critics saw passed all that bourgeois respectability, understood that the life of a petty thief could be as worthy of great art as the noblest king, that an absence of craft or style might represent a film’s psychological meaning, its hard indifference to the lies of romance. They understood serious artists could exist outside the mainstream, might find the fertile confines of genre more to their liking, might prefer playful indifference to highbrow pretension. But even the worst of these films taught them about innocent enjoyment, the pleasure of transformation, how much easier it was to bring the moves, clothes and dialogue into your life when they were ritualised, repeated, how cliches spoke to the yearnings inside ordinary people. By dedicating his film to Monogram Godard was sticking two fingers up at the industry, rejecting its middlebrow concerns with craft and rules, aligning himself with the outsiders, the dreamers, with those great American values of outrage, adventure and play. This is a game, he’s telling us. We’re playing here. So can you.

3. The famous opening line is: I’m an asshole, a provocation from the start, followed by a close up of a scantily clad girl on the front of a newspaper, lowered to reveal our hero, Michel, hat over his eyes, puffing on an enormous cigarette. He’s cool, but posing too, a kid playing dress-up. Then he runs the side of his thumb across his lips. It’s a signal. To us. Thumb across lips. That’s all it takes. Your Bogie. Your life is a movie. It’s hard to appreciate now the impact of this message. A Bout de Souffle was one of the first films to acknowledge people’s desire for movie grace in their lives, wanting their everyday existence transfigured by it, blessed with purpose and shape, ordinary personas imbued with unified glamour. You don’t need to be famous, a star. The magic isn’t out there somewhere, owned by producers, studios, agents, fans. It’s in you now, once you’ve seen the film, it’s yours, a gift, not a privilege. This is what cinema is, the democratisation of play. It’s an evolutionary tool, teaching poor regional kids moves and gestures to help them escape impoverished lives, to face the twin terrors of adolescence and neighbourhood streets. After all, when you live in a non-verbal environment knowing how to stand on corners with cool indifference is a vital art. This is another thing the film is already telling us. The street is a movie set too.

4. We first see Patricia ambling down the Champ-Elysees in her flat shoes, sweetly calling ‘New York Herald Tribune!‘ She’s played by Jean Seberg, proof that nationality is a notional concept at best. She’s supposed to be the American chick but comes across, in her clothes, her manner, her cropped hair, as ineffably French. It’s hard to imagine any other contemporary American actress playing the part, actually American but spiritually in tune with the Frenchness of the whole enterprise. (The film too is at once American in its conventions and French in its style and ideas.) It was that way from the start. Her screen debut was as Saint Joan (1957), hand-picked from 18,000 hopefuls by Otto Preminger. It was Preminger again who brought her to France the following year to play the spoiled Celine in Bonjour Tristesse. The same year she married film director Francois Moreuil. By the time of A Bout de Souffle they were divorced and she’d taken up with French author Romain Gary, marrying him in 1962. Was it fate or inclination that drew her to the French and them to her? Or was it the hair? The gamine prettiness? Whatever it was, it went on, until her tragic, mysterious death in 1979, found dead in her car on the same Parisienne streets she’d watched Belmondo play dead on all those years before, back when they were all young enough to think of death as a romantic game, something to be bargained with.

5. Leaving Patricia behind Michel passes a poster for a film called Ten Seconds To Hell (1959), its tagline proclaiming ‘Live dangerously till the end!’ It’s a lovely moment, not just for the renegade cheek of using the poster without permission, but for the serendipity of it being there in the first place, articulating the film’s key theme – defying death. (You know you’re in the zone when the world starts to speak to you like this, send you secret messages, when you see connections everywhere, when you start to believe there’s no such thing as a coincidence, that luck, in fact, is just fate in disguise).

6. Once you accept the rule of death thou shalt not kill is an easily and naturally obeyed commandment. But when a man is still in rebellion against death he has pleasure in taking to himself one of the Godlike attributes, that of giving it. This is one of the most profound feelings in those men who enjoy killing. – Ernest Hemingway, ‘Death in the Afternoon’

‘It is solely by risking life that freedom is obtained,’ Hegel wrote, somehow defining the essence of A Bout de Souffle over a century before it was made. The spirit of the film may be its exhilarating sense of freedom, it’s jazzy liberation from social, artistic and cinematic conventions, but it’s also obsessed with death, from its title to its conclusion. Or rather, with invoking it in order to feel more alive. If the taking of life could, as Hemingway suggests, ward off your own death, than so could acting it out. In this sense, the film is as ritualistic as a bullfight, a bloodless rebellion against death. Just as ancient Greek rites evolved into formalised drama, the death of a tragic hero offered to the gods rather than the sacrifice of a goat, so too with cinema. It may be a game, Godard suggests, but it isn’t frivolous. It’s as serious as any religion, as vital to our happiness as freedom itself. It was a message that hit the new decade like a Molotov cocktail, starting a creative blaze that lasted twenty years and engulfed the old Hollywood studio system in its wake.

7. ‘What is your greatest ambition?’ Patricia asks the novelist (played by director Jean-Pierre Melville) at the kind of pretentious press conference only the French would have. ‘To become immortal‘, he replies, looking straight into the camera, ‘and then to die‘. It’s a joke, a contradiction. He might as well have said his ambition was ‘to wake and then to dream’. It’s an impossibility, mutually exclusive states, waking/dreaming, immortality/death. Except, of course, there is one place where the impossible can happen. When we watch a film, especially in the dark of a cinema, what else are we doing but dreaming while still awake? And when we watch the great stars of the silver screen like James Cagney, Bette Davis or Steve McQueen, what else are we doing but watching the dead walk again, forever alive in their films, made immortal by them?

8. Which is what Bogart represents in the film, not just a role model but an icon of immortality. Dead only three years when A Bout de Souffle was made, already he’s becoming a cult, his moves, clothes and dialogue remembered, repeated and fetishised. But why Bogie? What was it about him that so obsessed the French? Maybe he was, in some way, more French than other Hollywood stars, more ironic, fatalistic, ugly? Maybe the characters he played, men with secrets, with shadowy pasts, were more in keeping with a nation haunted by defeat, collaboration and existential dread? Whatever it was it went deep, just think of the hats and coats in Melville’s own films like Le Samourai.

Of course, the Bogart of The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca and The Big Sleep was also the coolest man on the planet, a dream of tough grace under pressure. He crystallised the essence of cool long before Brando and Dean turned up, a man’s cool, not a grumpy adolescent’s, someone who’s lived, seen things, been betrayed by events, by his own heart, hides his honour like a dirty secret. But we know it’s there, we know he does care, does know which side is right, he just won’t be played for a sap any more. Being a man, he seems to say, is a moral act. If you don’t know how to read people, if you don’t know when to keep quiet, if you don’t understand that sometimes cynicism is just the truth no one wants to hear, then you deserve what you get, you leave yourself wide open, cannon fodder for con men, Nazis and certain kinds of women.

9. Then there’s the lovely extended scene in Patricia’s apartment. She arrives home to find Michel in her bed. What follows is spontaneity, calculation and natural light, cultural allusions everywhere. She poses before a poster of Renoir’s Mlle Irene Cahen d’Anvers and asks who’s the prettier. He caresses her bum and asks can he piss in her sink. She washes her feet and tell him she’s pregnant. He sits beneath a Picasso figure wearing a mask. She quotes from The Wild Palms by William Faulkner: ‘Between grief and nothing, I will take grief.’ Michel says he’d choose nothing. ‘Grief‘, he adds, ‘is a compromise‘. They talk, flirt, test each other and eventually make love, fumbling under the covers like kids, not sure what their parents really do under there. The claim that capturing Seberg’s beauty on film matches Renoir’s achievement on canvass is hardly worth noting now. But it’s a reminder of a time before the triumph of popular culture when film was considered an upstart medium, devoid of true craft, a nickelodeon distraction for immigrant hordes and over-excited housewives, not something to be taken seriously as high art. This was the fight Godard, Truffaut and the rest of the Cahiers du Cinéma critics were waging in the late 50s, rescuing great artists like Hitchcock and Hawks from the neglect this pompous snobbery had consigned them to.

And what about Michel’s claim that grief is a compromise? Is it an existential statement, like Beckett’s ‘every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness‘, or is he just trying to sound cool. Is he suggesting that emotions are a refuge, a refusal to accept the truth? It’s an interesting idea in an age when personal grief has become everyday currency. Would Bogie give in to grief, cry and wail, take to his bed, sell his story to the tabloids? No, he wouldn’t. He’d take it inside him, order a drink, light a cigarette, another lesson learned, another test passed. The cigarette is vital of course. Just consider how important they were in all this. Michel smokes non-stop throughout the film. Even his dying breath is a puff of smoke. Can you imagine a time when smoking was this cool? When things weren’t ghosted by consequences, by health warnings, when people drank at work and smoked in cinemas, weren’t constantly fretting about their health, short-changing their youth for a few extra years at the end? When looking cool now was more important than being alive then? It’s all about how you look, y’see, masks, uniforms, encoded signs, the transformative power of objects and faces. ‘The mystery of the world is in the visible, not the invisible,’ as Oscar Wilde rightly pointed out. Open your eyes (and dream). We’re being movie stars here. They’re immortal. They never die of cancer or liver failure.

10. ‘The film of tomorrow will be an act of love...’ – Truffaut

Above all it’s a film about love, love of cinema, love of life through cinema. There really was no difference to these young men. Cinema was life. Watching a beautiful woman and capturing her on film was the same thing to them. It was very chauvinistic, of course, but very romantic too (essentially the same thing). Romance has no time for feminist aspirations. It wants to be taken out of this crappy world, wants to idealise, heighten, improve. It’s foolish, a youthful folly, but where would we be without it? For a few brief years, as the world woke up from it’s post-war slumber, a handful of young men believed that cinema was the new language of happiness and truth. A Bout de Souffle bottled that moment. It’s a time machine. The spirit and energy of that moment can be revisited every time you watch it. You could even say it’s immortal. Or to put it another way: Devil in the Flesh. Rififi. And God Created Woman. Scarface. A Bout de Souffle. The best film around.

#A Bout De Souffle #breathless #jean-luc godard #1960s #essays #10 thoughts inspired by #Nouvelle Vague

[paraclete0407]

I used to post here under SN’s that referred to K-pop ‘uncle’ fans before I realized it’s not really a funny joke; I had actually joined Tumblr in part at least because I had been ‘training’ or studying to become a high school teacher and wanted to see what today’s teens were up to.  

I later got really in to K-pop particularly Girls Generation and even contemplated rekindling my Media Studies interests with a view to describing the ways in which GG were trying to change culture or open people’s eyes to beauty, perhaps ‘moral beauty,’ or ‘naive and sentimental love.’  

I associated GG with a Victorian cult of ‘moral beauty’ from people such as Oscar Wilde, Walter Pater, and above all John Ruskin (’Sesame and Lilies’; ‘Unto this Last’), who believed that somehow ‘tiny, pretty’ things could help redeem the human race.  Girls Generation were ‘sex-positive, love-positive.’  

Later on the so-called 3rd generation girl-groups got really out of hand in my opinion.  My favorite group, Oh My Girl, were interdicted at an airport for supposed or real underage sex-trafficking which isn’t really funny and might not be fake news either.  

I later gravitated toward Gfriend, in part because SinB / Hwang Eunbi and Sowon / Kim Sojung were Roman Catholic, and in part because I thought they more than GG or OMG were ‘measured, circumspect,’ and ‘as honest as one possibly can be without saying too much’ when it comes to the possibilities of romantic or affectionate ‘amor’ love and what young couples can expect to face when they set out to tread ‘the fragrant path, the virgin road, the bridal way.’  

My favorite GG song - the only one I really listen to or think about much anymore - is ‘Complete.’  ‘In a beautiful season, sunshine flashing on the eyelashes...’  I loved how Lee Sooman or whoever produced ‘Complete’ didn’t over-blend the girls’ voices but made it like a children’s song in which the individuality of the singer wasn’t subsumed in some corporate whole or monolithic aggregate ‘message’ (rather, desire to convey or force upon the listener a single aesthetic effect).

My favorite Gfriend song was ‘Sunshine,’ although mostly I listened to a reminiscent fan-music version called ‘Sunshine Nature Version,’ which was a ‘strident’ (the word people mis-use when they mean ‘striding, propulsive’) piano-cover with a video that featured Gfriend’s trip to Slovenia.

IDK if it matters at this late point in the history of K-pop’s 3-gen and the Delta variant of Covid-19 which could burn through much of the Western World or at least Anglo America, but my actual favorite Gfriend member was Yerin, Ms. Jung Yerin, partly b/c she looks like my former student from Korea and was born in the same year; 1996.

I had very high hopes / ambitions for this student, who from the beginning I considered ‘suasive, gentlewomanly, possessing savoir-faire.’  She said that she wanted to be a type of service-worker but I thought she could make it as a diplomat or something in politics.  She put me in mind of Colossians 4:6, ‘Let your speech be always savory, seasoned with salt, so that you may have an answer for everyone you meet.’  She had the gift of speaking directly to you as if she knew who you were, understanding her audience you could say.  Though she came from a poor and - quite literally - disenfranchised area of the RoK, with left behind people, where they said the best kids around couldn’t compete with the worst from Seoul, I still thought that she was under-selling herself.  IDK why in retrospect I assumed that a young woman’s not wanting a high-powered career automatically constituted under-selling oneself, particularly when I myself gave up on law school &c. a long time ago and didn’t feel that bad about it; or at least, nary worse about that than about the human race in general and how business is done in this day and age.  (I realize that is moral relativism.)

I had sex-problems before going to Korea and I had them after.  Tumblr made them worse in some ways and K-pop.  Moreover, ‘sweet love and sex’ are not going to save everyone.  There are all kinds of terrifying evil things in the world today.  I read that during the initial stage of the coronavirus pandemic in Wuhan a lot of Chinese were ‘looking at porn’ / viewing pornography.  Maybe many kids in America were as well and perhaps it has accelerated the brain-damage and brutalization of character / taste that are wrought by everything that pornography tells the brain and soul about sex, about women, and particularly about young women.  

I honestly think pornography will be banned in the near future.  I used to joke, ‘Some people are libertarians, socialists, some believe in helping the poor and weak and others believe in laissze-faire sink-or-swim it’s-all-your-fault neoliberal capitalism’ - and reply, ‘I’m a paternalistic theocrat.’  I don’t think I was really joking either.  

Anyway, Tumblr appears to be a good venue for young people to communicate with one another but it also leads to indulgent fantasies of revenge (’let’s hang / guillotine all business-majors), with attendant destructive ideologies.  There is also a huge amount of sexual content that might seem funny or ironic to Millennials like me and what we sometimes used to call ‘Zoomers’ / Gen Z).  However, this pornography involves real human beings and in more extreme cases abets actual child-rape and child-sex-trafficking while brutalizing people’s sexual tastes worldwide.

Today I think there are bigger things to worry about than what author Yiyun Li calls ‘bedroom business’ such as war, the current pestilence which continues to mutate and kill in unexpected ways and places, along with flawed vaccines that can also kill, probable famine in some areas and a huge backsliding into poverty for IIRC something like 100 million children worldwide; which can further expose them to lost educational opportunity, hunger, disease, and again, rape and sex-trafficking.  Americans moreover, I think (or rather US and Canadian citizens), consider much of the rest of this world and many of these souls or ‘particular individuals’ to be more or less empty vessels; statistics; or else totally unreal.  My own mom keeps telling me that basically I was never in Korea, that Korean isn’t a language but only a set of symbols, and that Koreans don’t exist or if they do I never saw one.  I recently started to feel as if I want to leave America for good but I have spent a lot of my money on books and I am not sure where I would go.

At any rate, if anyone picks this up, at least take cognizance of the fact what people post on Tumblr and AsianFanfics isn’t good advice but more like ‘object-lessons’ or portraits of the ‘beautiful and damned.’  I don’t think stuff like this makes people happy.  

I assured somebody a while back I would quit listening to K-pop and did so except for Taeyeon.  The last groups I followed were IZ*ONE and Dreamcatcher, and I went to the DC concert in 2019 in Chicago.  Everyone says that DC’s leader is more beautiful IRL than in pictures but at 25 she already looked deepy furrowed with concern and it was clear that her inner beauty had outstripped the face that she could make to meet the faces she was meeting.  She didn’t have a personality or manner or form that could be easily put in to a single frontal category or sense; I think F. Scott Fitzgerald might call her a ‘personage not personality’ - though, I am against summing up women, as if we could box up a person like that.

People today appear still to be reeling from ‘Trumpism’ in terms of this obsession with image or frontal ‘imago’ and the obsession with making ‘be be the end of seem’ or demanding that everyone look the part tout court.  Donald Trump for instance distrusted his highly talented National Security Adviser (Lt. Gen.) H.R. McMaster due to the latter’s intellectual appearance, and in spite of the fact that while Trump was on the phone in Manhattan McMaster was commanding an M1A1 main battle-tank in Operation Desert Storm and winning a Silver Star.  McMaster also nowadays has been working with an organization I highly respect, North Korea News, where they try to learn and spread the truth about people I consider some of the most Cross-bearing in the world and also important to humanity’s future in spiritual terms as well w/r/t authentic and useful understanding of human / world / US history since about 1866.

I am also concerned RN that many people are trying to ‘teach themselves’ more about the gross and scope of all human history and particularly in terms of Anglo-American policy in the Indo-Pacific since the Battle of Singapore or so, the consequences of Japanese imperialism and whether or to what extent the Empire of Japan was the ‘fault’ of Commodore Perry, as if America’s excessive affection for or faith in the value of commerce caused Japanese to commit mass-rape and conduct biological warfare in China, when they ought to be loving their neighbors today and making critical investments in their children, as well as securing the innocent against blowback from mistakes from the past that no one can totally fix but for which there are numerous self-appointed revengers and punishers in the world right now.

I often in the past few years thought of a Christian AsianFanfics author - my favorite fanfiction artist - SummerChild, of ‘Saving Suzy’ about an alienated writer and a former sex slave at the apparent end of the world; and wondered whether I ought also to plant some kind of ‘good’ fanfic in a poisoned soil like AFF or else totally take leave of and separate myself from that platform.  I think in retrospect that separation from evil is important, though making people aware of their evil and that evil is evil is also important; and that separating oneself from the evil is ultimately the loving thing to do for evil people and evildoers as well, AFAIK.  I guess for the Christian that means leaving your bad family though in ultimate terms this separation also means dividing God’s holiness and His holy or sanctified chosen ones away from the damned and reprobate in Hell.

IDK if anyone will pick this up but starting in 2016 I started to see visions of (Pope, St.) John Paul II; and recently, finally began to read his encyclical ‘Human Life’ (Humana Vitae), which apparently predicted a lot that is happening in the world today, such as abortion, euthanasia, or the commercialization of the human body such as through organ-harvesting and rape-for-sale in Xinjiang.  Today many people are waging private and/or public wars in America at least and appear to feel anything goes; they’ll apologize for anything and everything and refuse to draw a line and they will compliment themselves for being understanding.  They also appear to think that erasing a line is humanistic, life-affirming etc. without grasping that they erase human lives when they erase certain lines.

I honestly don’t even know how long I will live though I am ‘only’ 36.  I am concerned that Covid-19 and the broader Judgment of which it was coefficient or an instrument is going to get worse for North America than it has been so far though many people want to celebrate and celebrate.  They’re preparing to resume life but I am frankly really concerned about the nearness of death, spiritual and physical.  I wish I could warn someone, tell someone.  I am trying to hold on to life and a ‘culture of life’ though I came to this late; and I also rebelled and raged against some of my best ‘teachers’ due to their attitudes towards East Asia, which I felt were either dismissive of the value of lives or else touristic.  If I live through ‘Delta summer’ I am wishing to move to Vietnam, Korea, anywhere, Latin America, Somalia, where there is a very high birthrate and therefore a lot of potential human value, not to say grounds for miracles.  But I’m sincerely concerned the American Midwest, erstwhile impregnable or unreachable by most weapons of war, and relatively untouched by plagues within living memory, is less prepared for what is or could be coming than they want to believe; and that neither their individual or family institutions nor their social / governmental institutions are prepared nor honestly want to be, which strikes me as insane because it’s pointless to let bad things happen either macro such as to cities or micro such as to tomorrow’s children, when measures could be taken to protect the undefended and provide for the sick and poor now and to train kids in the right way so they stand at least a chance.  People are really waiting for what Confucius called ‘signs and wonders.’  I wish I could warn them not to let everything happen because everything has meaning - a famous quasi-Christian author wrote a book called ‘Everything is Spiritual’ although by this reasoning Hell is also extremely spiritual or at least meaningful - but not everything is good or expedient to say least.  So many people are also obsessed or fascinated with the CCP or the seemingly infinite spiral of Chinese history and others are still debating Hitler and Stalin as if understanding such matters were intrinsically valuable; to which one could reply, ‘Whose value and for whom?’  It reminds me of a debate I had decades ago with somebody who I think sense then lost their moral compass to an extent but who then rightly reproached me for seeking theological or jurisprudential arguments for forgiving the most clearly demonic individuals and actions, and neglecting those who clearly deserve a little more bread, a little more attention and graciousness, better teachers, better places to sleep, desks to study at, quiet homes, reasonable adults - good police also - and stand to benefit far more from what one poet called ‘the sweet and obvious side of the light’ than from these extreme theological / eschatological exercises.  In any event lately I was trying to support and promote various authors, political leaders, old friends and others I had some confidence in but I found that nearly one and all were more interested in either a) dissecting me or b) fighting ‘duels’ with either me or one another over questions like ‘How much napalm was dropped on North Korea’ as if knowing the exact quantity would give them the ‘critical mass’ of factors for their ‘decision point’ on whether they should care.  IDK, how much phosphorous and napalm burning you would make you care?  They clearly never read ‘Fire Road.’  These people are all invested in their own careers and constituencies and ‘sunk costs’ as well as conscious or unconscious assumptions about either their national identity and ‘national character’ or what used to be called sth like ‘the peculiar genius of the _ people.’  They wanna fly the same flags as ever.  I was listening to ‘Grace to You’ with the incomprehensibly erudite Pastor-Teacher John MacArthur who was teaching today that Rome was / is the final empire, before and after what is called the ‘Church Period.’  Whether it’s the European Union or some other consortium or confederacy it never really went away.  The Roman Empire has presided nevertheless over hugely nauseating and at least somewhat avoidable or fungible atrocities and it makes me sad to see so many just reading the papers or going out.  I wish I had more money, resources, connections, a platform.  I guess everyone wants more.  Night is falling over Milwaukee, it seems to me, and many people think this is a story - they think it’ll be fun / interesting / a learning experience.  What more is there is to learn?  Beginnings, endings.  I find that someone wants me to deal in ‘apologetics’ and others want me to tell them exactly what will happen in the future, though I think that a) I’m not that important and b) I really don’t know if what I see is either true or ‘evitable.’  I only recently gained something like a loving heart toward even the people I most believed in and admired in the past, who loved me, and taught me about love, and to love.  I read St. Augustine for years and thought of him when I was in KR and over the years also came to theorize reading and interpretation / hermeneutics in a pretty sophisticated way of which I am dangerously proud.  I avoided personal responsibility over the years and right now am concerned for both my own life and the lives and souls many in the city I live in, people from the past and even people I have never met.  I sincerely think that there could be a major terrorist attack in Milwaukee or a flare-up of the Delta and/or other Covid variants whereas people want to ram everything through the way it is including their children in the name of some vain defiance of reality.  Parading around.  Driving 80-90 on I-95.  I did that back in 2016, driving with headlights on all day.  Instead of this parade or death-life-race or whatever corporatist fantasy it is they should stop trying to do everything at once and think of their souls, think of their kids, think of not telling lies or equivocations about abortion or homosexuality or whether a good marriage is a good marriage or whether it’s better to tell the truth or tell lies.  Delta Covid, private arsenals of automatic weapons, Russian suitcase-nukes smuggled by North Korea’s Bureau 39 on the behalf of ISIS or Syria or God knows who.  But the person I believe in maybe more than anyone else in the world, my ‘sister’ of nationality I shouldn’t say but fellow believer, told me in no uncertain terms to be concerned about (thermo)nuclear terrorism.  

4 million people died so far from coronavirus and people have been talking since 9.11.2001 about how ‘the real world’ was finally coming to America but 9.11, Katrina, et cetera are not really comparable in scale to what ‘the real world’ has been to Russia, Korea, Europe, et al.  

I lit a candle in my room.  

[the-writers-nest]

First Mission

So, hey guys, I love your blog and, as so, I would like to submit this to be a part of it. I only have two stories in Tumblr for the moment, but I used to have more on my ff.net and my Wattpad, however, I had to erase those accounts due to personal reasons. I love writing more than anything and I'm quite active on Tumblr. I hope you consider me and hope you like this short story as much as I do!

Word Count: 2811

Author: notyourregularfangirl

Requested by: @fioretz

Rating: K

Summary: Spider-Man goes on his first mission with the Avengers, but not everything goes as planned, bringing out an unusual facet of Iron Man

Warnings: Angst

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the the Marvel characters or plot lines. Neither do I own David Bowie’s song.

At first, they thought it had only been some remnant of the Chitauri technology that had been left behind after the battle, yielded unknowingly by some unaware citizen. The Avengers were wrong. However, only partly. It was the artifacts they had feared, but no any citizen had used it. It was one of Vulture’s followers that, apparently, possessed an enemy in one of the apartments of the building and wished revenge, so he attacked the poor man inside his home.

The job of the vindictive young man had only started a small amount of time before Vulture was captured, as so, his knowledge on said technology was limited and he didn’t only miss his target, but he also destabilized the whole apartment complex. After his attempted escape, the building started falling. The Avengers arrived, just in time to save most of the inhabitants before the building collapsed completely and to give Vision enough time to chase down and catch the perpetrator.

“The rubble is too unstable now, moving one piece might crash the people left inside, and the crevices are too small for any of us to fit in.” Iron Man announced, using the thermal camera in his suit to analyze the location of the trapped. Two people. One child.  

Scarlet Witch and Black Widow had been sent abroad for a special mission, obviously, leaving only the males of the Avengers group. Thor, Captain America, Hulk and Hawkeye looked around. Up above, in one of the neighboring constructions, something caught Cap’s eye.

He turned to Tony, “I think there is someone that will definitely fit.”

At first, Iron Man thought Steve was looking at the Hulk, and was about to go along in the joke when he noticed the red spot.

“No way, Cap.”

Thor was as confused as when they told him there was a thing other than magic that could make two people swap faces in a phone. Hulk was faster to catch on.

“Stupid Iron Head will let kid do the job.” The green humanoid ordered.

“Language.” Iron Man said out of reflex. With his head down, he contemplated his options.

One of the rocks slid and there was a loud rumble. “Hardly the time for that, Stark.” Hawkeye signaled.

The panic was evident in Captain America’s voice, “You know he’s ready and we have to be quick.”

Iron Man sighed and shook his head. Yes, he had been personally training the Queens’ teen for a while now; and yes, protecting the little people had made him humbler and even stronger than he had once been, but, he was still too young for these sort of missions, especially after the whole Vulture fiasco. He had faith in the kid, but he wouldn’t be able to have something happen to him. Nevertheless, there were civilians in danger and their main duty was with them. “Fine.” with a sigh, he called Peter’s suit. “Come on down, kid, quick.” There was a sound that resembled a squeal of unmasked joy and the red and blue clad teen was right next to him in a matter of seconds.

“Spider-Man reporting for service,” Iron Man rolled his eyes and explained the situation quickly to the boy. After a firm nod of the head Peter tentatively examined the hollow spaces and chose the most suitable one to go into. The space was very small and he wasn’t a very big fan of the complete darkness that engulfed him suddenly. So, he used his new suit’s advanced and enhanced features to make it less dark and localize the people. There was a young girl first, about six years old.

“Hello?” Peter called out. There were two answers. One was the sobs of the little girl that were interrupted with a hiccupped, weak ‘help me’. The other one was a man, somewhere from 10 to 15 feet away farther than the child:

“Please, get her out of here. Save her, just save her.” The man’s rough voice begged.

He must be his daughter, the hero thought to himself.

The girl’s crying got louder. “No, no! Save my daddy, too!” She cried and mumbled uncomprehendingly until she gasped for air and spoke in a tone barely above a whisper, “I need him.”

Peter Parker’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He knew the feeling of needing a parent, of being helpless, and worst of all: of losing a parent. He was not going to let that little girl go through what he experienced.

“Don’t worry,” He said as calmly as he could, “I am going to get both of you out of here.”

There was another crackling on the debris above him and a few pebbles and dust sprinkled down. The sound made the girl cry louder.

“We’re going to die! I don’t want to die!”

Peter analyzed his surroundings. Some rocks were so close to falling that the girl’s weeping could topple the whole thing over. “No, no. You’re going to be fine. I promise.” That didn’t calm her down. “However, if I want to save you, we need to be calm and not cry so we don’t make the rocks angry.”

At this point, the girl continued crying, but more softly and quietly and her dad decided to step in, “We wouldn’t want to make the rocks angry, now, would we, Bowie?”

She sniffed. “No.”

“You like rocks, Bowie?”

“A lot, I have a huge collection back at home.” As soon as the words left her mouth Spiderman flinched. “I had a huge collection.” And the bawling continued, only louder.  

Peter was in trouble. “Uh-uh-Your name’s Bowie. Like David Bowie?”

Bowie nodded and once she realized the man couldn’t possibly see her, she said yes.

“I love his songs.” Peter smiled because he was saying the truth, and he got some flashbacks to when he and Ned started humming Under Pressure right before a Physics’ final and the whole class joined in to the point where even the teacher crooned the tone herself, after administering everyone detention, of course. “How about we sing one now?”

The girl sniffed, “The Man Who Sold the World is my favorite.”

“Well, that is just perfect because that is also my favorite song of his.” Peter smiled despite himself. “How about we sing the song together and I promise you that by the time we finish the song you and your father will be out of here, together.”

“You pinky promise?”

Peter Parker felt unease: The structure was getting weaker by the second, there were more people to take into account, and the song was almost four minutes long. Peter Parker was scared.

Spider-man, on the other hand, was so confident. Probably a lot more than he should have been. He was going to jam to this song as he saved people, just like in the movies. He was going to save the two people that were trapped. He was not going to be scared as the darkness enveloped him and when there were sharp edges of objects sticking out at him from every direction, and when the lives of five people, total strangers, were literally hanging on his hands. Spider-man knew no fear because…simply because he was Spider-man.

He finally made it to the small hollow where the girl was perched hugging her legs and rocking herself in the tiny amount of space there was to spare.

He took her in his arms and, with the sincerely least scared face he could muster, he asked her to start singing the song.

Bowie sang shakily at first, evidence of her still not completely tearless state,

“We passed upon the stair  we spoke of was and when  Although I wasn’t there He said I was his friend”

                The girl sang just like Peter imagined angels would. Contrary to her petite, babyish body, her voice was huge, soft and sweet, but demanding and resounding. Even if he was buried in yards of dirt, an ethereal feeling confined him, along with the renewed need to save that little person, because, holy crap, did the world need to listen to her voice.

“Which came as some surprise  I spoke into his eyes I thought you died alone a long long time ago”, Spider-man sang back, “The next part together.”

“Oh no, not me” Just another left turn and he would be back outside.   “I never lost control  you’re face to face With the man who sold the world”

Bowie finally stopped sniffing and lightly whimpering, changing her expression to a more tranquil one. With her eyes closed and even breathing, she relaxed into her savior’s chest and prayed and prayed that very soon her father would hold her like this, like he always did.

“I laughed and shook his hand  and made my way back home I searched for form and land for years and years I roamed” Finally, Spider-man laid Bowie onto Captain America’s arms.

               Spider-man booped her nose, “Keep on singing, kiddo. Your dad is next,” She scrunched her nose and nodded.

“I gazed a gazeless stare at all the millions here I must have died alone A long, long time ago”

               He advanced faster now because of having memorized the way already. As he got to Bowie’s dad, he heard her starting the second-to-last chorus.

               “Is Bowie okay?” The man asked as soon as Spider-man came into his field of view.

               “She is safe and sound outside with my colleagues, sir.”

               “Thank you, thank you so much.”

               “You are very welcome. Now, if you would kindly jump on my arms since I promised your daughter I would get you back safely before the song ended, and I am not about to break a promise to someone with such an amazing taste in music despite her young age.”

               The father did as told, although tentatively due to his insecurity about having the lanky hero carry his quite bigger, heavier frame through such a tight tunnel. His worries were put to bed as he laid on his arms, since the teenager was way sturdier than he seemed.

               It wasn’t as easy carrying a man that was probably twice his age as it was to carry someone that was ten years younger than him, but he prevailed and advanced at an even pace. Almost synchronized with the tune.

               “Who knows? Not me We never lost control”

               “She does, doesn’t she? She got that from her mother. As well as her voice.” He sighed, probably reminiscing about old times.

               “So her mother got out of the building before it fell?”

               The man looked down at his hands, “Yes, long before. She died three years ago.”

               “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

               “Don’t worry, kid. You couldn’t have known.”

               “Well, then, I believe you’ve done a great job raising Bowie. She seems like a very sweet child.”

               He smiled sweetly, “That she is. Sometimes I believe she can be too sweet for her own good,” He shook his head even though he smiled. “This is a cruel word, even more for the kind, innocent people. But God knows I love her more than all that there is in this world. And I have to protect her from all that.”

               Peter said nothing and showed no sign of answering.

               “I’m sorry, I’m venting. You must know what it’s like, loving someone, having children.”

               Peter laughed. “Oh no, I don’t have children. I’m barely 16, but I do know what it’s like to love someone,” He sighed and felt an awful knot lodging itself in his throat. “And I’m also familiar with loss.”

“You’re face to face With the man who sold the world”

               “May I ask why?”

               “My parents died when I was younger than Bowie even.”

               “I’m very sorry.” The light at the end of the tunnel was already visible and Bowie’s voice could be heard again.

                              “Who knows? Not me”

               “No need to. My aunt and uncle took me in and they love me very dearly.” Peter winced as he remembered he couldn’t say that truthfully anymore. He only had his aunt now.

                              “We never lost control”

               Above them, there was a falling pebble. Of course, they didn’t notice that.

                              “You’re face to face”

               “I’m glad you had that support.” He cleaned his nose of some dirt that had dusted down. “You know, we’ve been through all this and I don’t even know your name.”

               Peter smiled, “I’m Spider-man, sir.” He started walking with his back to the exit.

               “Thank you very much, Spider-man.” He patted the boy’s shoulder and Spider-man had few times felt as proud as he did in that moment.

               They both saw the huge grin on Bowie’s face as they almost stepped out of the crevice.

The child finished singing, “With the man who sold the world”

               And then the whole thing came down.

               It must have been days since he started crying. It sure felt like it, even if it had only been a few hours. His lungs felt as if they had been filled with rocks. Rocks the size of fists with jagged ends for fingers. Just like the ones that were left sticking out of the passage. That wretched passage. His fingers trembled, probably exhausted from all the wiping of his nose and tears.

               The images kept repeating themselves in his mind’s eye.

               He hated himself for it. He had been the one closer to the exit. He shouldn’t have been. He should have put the man down on the ground safely before himself. He should have reacted quicker. He shouldn’t have let him go, even if it was an involuntary reaction.

               He would never be able to forget Bowie’s screams. They would hunt him forever.

               “You promised, you liar! You said you’d save both of us!”

               She was right. He was liar, but above all, a murderer.

               There was someone at the door knocking, but he didn’t look up. The memories were so much louder than any knock would ever be. The guilt even more as it screamed inside every part of him in little Bowie’s voice.

               “I brought you some hot chocolate.” It was Mr. Stark, but Peter wasn’t in the mood to please anyone. He wasn’t in the mood for anything. “I know it’s the middle of summer, but Cap said it was a comforting beverage and he insisted so much I just did it to shut him up.”

               The teen did not respond.

               “Can I sit?” It was stupid of him to ask. They were in the Avengers’ headquarters, in a room they set aside for him whenever he went to train and it was too late for him to go back, so he practically and literally owned the place.

               Nothing.  So the millionaire sat.

               “It was a good mission.”

               “How can you say that?” Peter shrieked at him. “He died! A man died because of me. I killed him!”

               “You did not kill him,” Tony set the mug on the floor.

               “Of course I did. I let him go, I was about to go out first.”

               “With him on your arms.” Iron Man interrupted.

               “It would have been better if I hadn’t carried him at all.” Peter looked down at his lap again.

               “He could have been injured when the structure collapsed, you did what was right.”

               “If I had done what was right my suit wouldn’t be stained with an innocent man’s blood and that girl would not be an orphan.”

               Tony arranged himself so he could be looking directly at Peter. “Hey, look at me.” Peter raised his head slowly. “You did what you thought would solve the problem. You used logic and you calmed both of them. Yes, you were about to get him out, but sometimes that’s just how things work. There was a reason bigger than all of us for that man dying and you and the girl being the ones that survived. Maybe because you’re young with a life ahead. We will never know. But this was your first mission, Parker. You assessed the situation and saved a life today.”

               The Spider-Man in him made him stop crying so he could listen to his mentor. “I didn’t fulfill the mission.”

               “The way I see it, you did save both of them. You fulfilled the mission. It’s just God, or destiny or whatever you want to call it that got in the way of a happy ending. It happens to the best of us, believe me.” Tony’s face contorted to a pained expression during his last sentence.

               “Thank you, Mr. Stark,” He grabbed the mug from the floor. “But I would like to be alone for another moment.”

               “Sure thing, kid.” The older man made his way back to the door. Peter took a sip of the hot beverage, along with a few tears that ran down his cheeks. “And remember, I’m proud of you. If that means anything.”

               It meant a lot.

#submit #one shot #submission

[skarletterambles]

Pirates of the Caribbean 5

I just got back from seeing Dead Men Tell No Tales.  I have thoughts.  Quite a few of them, actually.

I should preface this review by giving a bit of background on my involvement with this franchise.  I saw the first PotC movie in the theater seven times.  I saw Dead Man’s Chest three or four times and loved it.  I saw At World’s End exactly once, hated it with the passion of a thousand burning suns, and never saw it again.

I was--and am--a hardcore Sparrabeth shipper.  The canon status of Willabeth only explains part of my disillusionment with the franchise, however.  My biggest problem was how Elizabeth had an amazing character arc over three films, going from a prim-and-proper governor’s daughter to the ass-kicking Pirate King, pursuing her dreams in defiance of society’s expectations, outwitting both the EITC and legendary pirates, leading an armada in battle...and then had it all stripped away at the end of the third movie, where she is left literally barefoot and pregnant to wait for her man to come back.  I was--and am--livid.  I felt betrayed, both as a fan and a feminist, to see one of my favorite characters do a 180 like that.

So I have very strong feelings about these movies.  I’ve tried to get over it in the years since AWE, with limited success.  Against my better judgment I did see On Stranger Tides in the theater, and thought it was mediocre.  Since Elizabeth wasn’t involved I could just ignore its existence, for the most part.

Then the fifth movie was announced, and Will was going to be in it.  I had hoped that maybe, just maybe they could try to rectify some of the mistakes (read: character assassination) of the past.

They didn’t.  But they still came up with a pretty good movie.  Honestly, I’d even give Dead Men Tell No Tales four stars out of five.  I was riveted to the screen for most of it, and it was thrilling to hear the theme music and see the familiar faces.  It was exciting and entertaining, the special effects were impressive, and there were some good laughs.  Plus, zombie sharks!

Do I have issues with parts of it?  Yeah.  And I’m going to ramble at length.

**** MAJOR POTC: DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES SPOILERS BELOW ****

Sequel creep is definitely at work, where each installment has to be bigger and zanier than the last.  The gags are broader, the willing suspension of disbelief gets even more strained, the stakes are higher, and it becomes almost like a Saturday morning cartoon version of itself.  

Thinking back to CotBP, we had to buy into the curse turning Barbossa and his crew into undead, but other than that the world operated on fairly realistic terms.  Yes, there was movie logic involved as far as coincidences, travel times, fast wound recovery, and all that, but it still felt more or less like the real world.  Stakes got higher with each sequel, until we have whatever the hell that “bank robbery” was in DMTNT.  

Don’t get me wrong; it was an enjoyable action sequence, but it felt more like a cartoon than anything that could happen under the laws of physics as they exist in our world.  That’s not inherently a bad thing, but the tone was noticeably different compared to the earlier films.

Moving on, I was glad Captain Salazar didn’t have that slurpy, blood-drooling voice through the entire film.  When I first heard that in the early trailer I was both grossed out, and concerned that he would be hard to understand.  Instead it was just that one scene, and he spoke normally the rest of the time.  He was a great villain, from his badass and scary entrance through to his delightfully ironic death.  He was genuinely threatening, which was kind of surprising considering the cartoony feel of some of the action scenes.  Javier Bardem killed it.  Thumbs up to him!

The legend surrounding the trident, and the map to find it, seemed cool until you thought about it for more than two seconds, and then it didn’t really make any sense.  Calypso is the Sea Goddess in this universe, so where did Poseidon come in?  How can his trident override curses that she put in place?  If it could be broken by a single sword blow, how did it stay intact under the sea for (presumably) thousands of years?  I mean, sure, maaaaaagic, but...eh.

And why did Will get all barnacley anyway?  Elizabeth waited for him, so that part of the curse shouldn’t have kicked in.

And what will happen to the souls of the dead without the Dutchman to ferry them to the afterlife?  

And what happened to Bootstrap Bill?  Did Will figure out how to free him and let him move on to the afterlife?

And if breaking the trident cancelled all the curses related to the sea, how did Davy Jones appear in the after-credits scene?  (Assuming it was him.  The gait, crab claw, barnacles, tentacley silhouette and the music box theme all pointed to it being him, anyway.)  I could almost buy him coming back to life when the curse was broken, but as a normal human again, not ol’ squidface.  The mythology makes no damn sense at all!

This review is coming across pretty negative so far, but I really did enjoy the movie.  I thought it was much better than OST, and felt like a return to the original vibe of the series.  I thoroughly enjoyed watching (almost) every minute of it, and I left the theater grinning and humming the theme music.  As a summer popcorn movie, it’s pretty great.  It’s just when the adrenaline wears off and I start thinking and analyzing that I see the issues.  And, like I said, I have a long history with this franchise, so overthinking it is what I do.

There were definitely some surprises, although I saw a couple of the twists coming.  The instant I realized Carina was Hector’s daughter, I was like, “Well, he’s going to die saving her somehow.”  And I was right.  It was sad (and that damn monkey gave me more feels than any creepy little primate has a right to), but at the same time I’m delighted at how his character grew into so, so much more than he was originally planned to be.  He was supposed to be a one-shot villain in CotBP, but Geoffrey Rush is so damn awesome, and he and Johnny Depp brainstormed a history between their characters, decided his first name was Hector, and one thing led to another and here we are, genuinely mourning him in the fifth movie.  It was a worthy sendoff for a memorable character.

One of the themes that got raised over and over in the earlier movies was the idea that it’s possible to be a pirate and a good man.  Bootstrap Bill Turner was.  Jack is.  Was Hector Barbossa a good man?  I don’t know if I’d go that far, but he wasn’t 100% evil, either.  And he was a lot of fun to watch.

Henry definitely reminded me of Will.  He had the same wide-eyed earnestness about him, as well as the tendency to charge into danger because it’s the Right Thing To Do without thinking through the full plan first.  Elizabeth’s legacy is a bit harder to see, except in the first two scenes.  Keeping a secret stash of pirate memorabilia and legends?  Totally Lizzie.  Back-talking authority figures?  Yep, Lizzie’s genes are in there.  And later, in the jail, taking Jack’s ego down a peg by scoffing at his legendary reputation in comparison to the reality of a scruffy, rum-soaked pirate?  Also from the Swann side of the family.  So I think they did a pretty good job of making Henry his parents’ son. 

I just wish we had more information on how he was raised, and where.  I always imagined him scampering around Shipwreck Cove and up the rigging of Elizabeth’s ship(s), the mischievous pirate prince.  Based on the house Elizabeth is living in at the end, and the fact that he was enlisted in the royal navy, I don’t see that happening in canon now.

When Carina was introduced I had a couple thoughts:

1.  “I wonder if she’s related to any existing characters...  No, don’t be silly.  This isn’t a fanfic.  They’re trying to move the franchise forward into the next generation.”  (Or not.) 2.  I don’t want to like her because no one can ever replace Elizabeth Freaking Swann the Pirate King as the best female character in these movies.  And that’s still true, but she definitely grew on me.  She had a fairly good balance of “smart woman who can take care of herself and doesn’t need a man to complete her story” and “too perfect to be likable or believable.”  I could have done with a costume that didn’t draw quite so much attention to her heaving bosom, but I suppose there’s some vaguely historical style going on.

Honestly, there’s a reason her backstory could have been lifted from a story on Fanfiction.net circa 2004:  those kinds of long-lost relative reveals can be a hell of a lot of fun.  Especially when you have Jack there to tease “daddy” Hector mercilessly.

I’m glad they didn’t have her be Jack’s daughter, though.  That thought crossed my mind, too, and that would have been...not good.

Pity Hector never got to introduce himself to Elizabeth and Will as the father of their potential daughter-in-law.  Awwwwwkward!  Bwahahaha!

Speaking of the dreaded Willabeth...  Jack saw them smooching in his spyglass, made a face, and announced that it was a revolting sight.  Same, Jack.  Same.

Therein lies my biggest complaint about the movie, and, as I mentioned above, it’s just the latest sprout on a tree of dislike that I’ve been nursing since the ending of At World’s End was leaked.  How in the seven hells they thought it was an appropriate, satisfying, logical plot development for Elizabeth Freaking Swann the Pirate King to end up standing around passively on a beach in a frilly dress and a fucking corset, waiting for the menfolk to do the important stuff, I will never, ever understand.  It’s a slap in the face of everything her character arc was over the first three movies.

“Sure, little girls, you can have adventures and play pirate for awhile if you want to, but in the end you still have to get married, grow up, conform to society’s beauty standards, put aside those dreams, and take care of your husband and children.”  Fuck that with a rusty garden trowel.

And here, when they had the chance to redeem that travesty, when they could have showed a glimpse of her at the helm of her own flagship, or holding court with the other Pirate Lords, or just simply wearing pirate-type clothes and carrying a sword, for the love of all things holy, did they do any of those things?  Oh, no.  No, they doubled down and had her be so passive that she didn’t even get to speak.  (Doesn’t that mean they don’t have to pay Knightley as much?)  Literally all she’s there for is to be a reward for Will upon his homecoming, and then sleep with him--on land in a fancy house that could have been in Port Royal, for all we know.  Any journey her character had is moot.  She’s back to square one, and it makes me want to throw things.

Oops, I was going to keep that rant short, and failed.  Oh well, it’s a sore spot, obviously.  I have never felt so betrayed by a franchise as I did when they did that to Elizabeth in AWE, and it still stings after all these years.

My ire didn’t even stem from my shipping preferences, although that certainly was salt in the wound.  If they couldn’t give us a series of movies with Jack and Lizzie, the best pirates in the world, having amazing adventures while flirting like they did in DMC, at least they could have given us a sort of open ending, where she, Will and Jack all sail in their separate directions, knowing that their paths would cross in the future in any number of entertaining ways.  I’m never sure if I should blame the writers, the studio, or the actors, or all of the above, but I would have bought, like, ALL THE TICKETS to see those movies.

But, alas, that’s not what we got.  We got OST and DMTNT instead.  OST was quite forgettable, but DMTNT packed a pretty good punch and I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.  I won’t say it totally redeemed the franchise for me, but it’s got its head above water for the first time since DMC, so that’s progress.

Should you see it?  Yeah, I think so.  If you enjoyed the precious PotC movies, or just like pirate movies in general, it’s a fun couple hours.  Just don’t think too hard about it afterward (like I did.)

#Pirates of the Caribbean #dead men tell no tales #movie review #sparrabeth #anti willabeth