#Centre Stage REviews

[centrestagereviews]

Review: A Child of Science - Bristol Old Vic

[sparrowsabre7]

Like for real interviews are traps. I had one where I needed to do a phone role play to show my customer service and they said "OK so do you want to do it in the bullpen or in my office where it's a bit quieter" and even at the age of 31 I thought "gosh how nice, yes that would be nice to have a little privacy for this interview."

First thing flagged on the NO response was "took the private room like a damn coward smh 😔 not enough of a chad to work here". They also said I was 15 mins late when, as far as I was concerned I was 15 mins early. As it turned out the time they gave me was not the time to arrive but the time the assessment would happen. Apparently they assumed I would show up an hour before this time to "meet the team".

Protip: If you give someone a time for an interview, maybe that time should be the time you expect them to arrive, not the time of some subsection of the interview, because, guess what! If you tell me when to arrive, I will still be there when the subsection will take place!

remember that interviews are not about giving a good and honest first impression that they'll carefully consider. interviews are about saying the special words and phrases they're looking for that give you points and when they tally those up whoever earned the most job points wins

[jimsmovieworld]

CENTRE STAGE- 2000 ⭐️⭐️

TOO MUCH DANCING!

Twelve of the best ballet dancers from across the country get into a prestigious dance academy where they compete to be the best and to impress theyre instructors.

Some of the scenes when they got to go out and have fun on the town were a bit fun but most of the film was filled with dance sequences that go on far too long which is boring.

[sayruq]

Al Jazeera has obtained a copy of the Gaza ceasefire proposal that Hamas said it accepted on Monday. The deal, which was put forward by Egypt and Qatar, would come in three stages that would see an initial halt in the fighting leading to lasting calm and the withdrawal of Israeli troops from the Palestinian territory. The proposed agreement would also ensure the release of Israeli captives in Gaza as well as an unspecified number of Palestinians held in Israeli jails. Israel has said that it does not agree to the proposal but that it will engage in further talks to secure an agreement – all while pushing on with its assault on Gaza. Meanwhile, the United States, which is also involved in the negotiations, said it is reviewing the Hamas response. The basic principles for an agreement between the Israeli side and the Palestinian side in Gaza on the exchange of captives and prisoners between them and the return of sustainable calm. The framework agreement aims at: The release of all Israeli captives in the Gaza Strip, civilians or military, alive or otherwise, from all periods, in exchange for a number of prisoners held by Israel as agreed upon, and a return to a sustainable calm that leads to a permanent ceasefire and a withdrawal of Israeli forces from the Gaza Strip, its reconstruction and the lifting of the siege. The framework agreement consists of three related and interconnected stages, which are as follows: The first stage (42 days) [Herein] a temporary cessation of military operations between the two parties, and the withdrawal of Israeli forces eastward and away from densely populated areas to a defined area along the border all along the Gaza Strip (including Wadi Gaza, known as the Netzarim Corridor, and Kuwait Roundabout, as below). All aviation (military and reconnaissance) in the Gaza Strip shall cease for 10 hours a day, and for 12 hours on the days when captives and prisoners are being exchanged. Internally displaced people in Gaza shall return to their areas of residence and Israel shall withdraw from Wadi Gaza, the Netzarim corridor, and the Kuwait Roundabout: On the third day (after the release of three captives), Israeli forces are to withdraw completely from al-Rashid Street in the east to Salah al-Din Street, and dismantle military sites and installations in this area. Displaced persons (unarmed) shall return to their areas of residence and all residents of Gaza shall be allowed freedom of movement in all parts of the Strip. Humanitarian aid shall be allowed in via al-Rashid Street from the first day without any obstacles. On the 22nd day (after the release of half the living civilian captives in Gaza, including female soldiers), Israeli forces are to withdraw from the centre of the Gaza Strip (especially the Netzarim/Martyrs Corridor and the Kuwait Roundabout axis), from the east of Salah al-Din Street to a zone along the border, and all military sites and installations are to be completely dismantled. Displaced people shall be allowed to return to their places of residence in the north of Gaza, and all residents to have freedom of movement in all parts of the Gaza Strip. Humanitarian aid, relief materials and fuel (600 trucks a day, including 50 fuel trucks, and 300 trucks for the north) shall be allowed into Gaza in an intensive manner and in sufficient quantities from the first day. This is to include the fuel needed to operate the power station, restart trade, rehabilitate and operate hospitals, health centres and bakeries in all parts of the Gaza Strip, and operate equipment needed to remove rubble. This shall continue throughout all stages.

Exchange of captives and prisoners between the two sides: During the first phase, Hamas shall release 33 Israeli captives (alive or dead), including women (civilians and soldiers), children (under the age of 19 who are not soldiers), those over the age of 50, and the sick, in exchange for a number of prisoners in Israeli prisons and detention centres, according to the following [criteria]: Hamas shall release all living Israeli captives, including civilian women and children (under the age of 19 who are not soldiers). In return, Israel shall release 30 children and women for every Israeli detainee released, based on lists provided by Hamas, in order of detention. Hamas shall release all living Israeli captives (over the age of 50), the sick, and wounded civilians. In return, Israel shall release 30 elderly (over 50) and sick prisoners for every Israeli captive, based on lists provided by Hamas, in order of detention. Hamas shall release all living Israeli female soldiers. In return, Israel shall release 50 prisoners (30 serving life sentences, 20 sentenced) for every Israeli female soldier, based on lists provided by Hamas.

The United Nations and its agencies, including UNRWA, and other international organisations, are to continue providing humanitarian services across the Gaza Strip. This shall continue throughout all stages of the agreement. Infrastructure (electricity, water, sewage, communications and roads) across the Gaza Strip shall be rehabilitated, and the equipment needed for civil defence allowed into Gaza to clear rubble and debris. This shall continue throughout all stages of the agreement. All necessary supplies and equipment to shelter displaced people who lost their homes during the war (a minimum of 60,000 temporary homes – caravans – and 200,000 tents) shall be allowed into Gaza. Throughout this phase, an agreed-upon number (not fewer than 50) of wounded military personnel will be allowed to travel through the Rafah crossing to receive medical treatment, and an increased number of travellers, sick and wounded, shall be allowed to leave through the Rafah crossing as restrictions on travellers are lifted. The movement of goods and trade will return without restrictions.

And that's just phase one. Read the rest of the article for the rest of the ceasefire proposal approved by Hamas.

[tevanbuckley]

buddie stans review bombing 8.05 is so spectacularly stupid. What world are we living in where a bunch of predominantly queer fans are review bombing one of the first episodes where the two queer leads and their partners have taken centre stage? Do they not understand the optics of that?

And these are the people who supposedly want them to make another main character queer! Which, if that’s your goal, I don’t think it’s gonna be helped by making it look like a bunch of right wing culture war bros are mad because of woke! Not only is this behaviour incredibly pathetic it actively reduces the chance of them getting what they want!

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 8

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

The seat you've picked for their second practise runthrough is one of the best in the house, you think quietly as the music kicks in. 

The one that you'd picked for the first practise was middling, upon review, too far back to really appreciate every silly antic on stage, and the seat you'll be hiding in on the night of the show won't be anything as special as front row, but this one...this one is good. Front and centre, no one in the seats in front of you and not so close that you have to crick your neck to look up at Changbin waving to you as he wanders along the edge of the stage - but still close enough to spot that smile and the amusement that glimmers in his eyes as he passes. 

It's nice to see the show from a place like this just once, even if the choreography isn't all out and the boys wander about rather than playing up the energy for the crowd, when there will be so much time for that tomorrow. It's even better to observe how they work in an environment you've never experienced despite so many years as a trainee.

Not that you will experience any of this yet, not really. You're not sure if the way your gut clenches is out of disappointment or relief. You've waited to headline a concert like this your entire life, but to have to start your career here, instead of something smaller like the TV stages...

The start of God's Menu blares through the small arena, every beat a gut-punch with the volume of the speakers. Your feet move with the music, dragging you up out of your seat and into the clear space of the aisle nearby. For once, the choreography feels easy; whether it is because Lee Know isn't watching your back like a hawk, or because you stop for a moment whenever you run out of room, or because the way Chan points at you and smiles makes your heart rise in your chest...

Easy plays next, subtler in sound and much sharper in movement, each move sliding seamlessly from smooth to snapping and back again. You don't dance that one half as well, you're sure - just keeping up isn't good enough, when they are so perfectly in sync, so absolutely sure of themselves after just a week of practising.

You sit down again after that one, face flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly. At least you've gotten in some practise for today.

They go for a full three hours, just like they will tomorrow. Just like it's another day for them, like it hasn't taken weeks of planning and choreography and a whole team of people to put together - and for them, you suppose, it hasn't. It's been kind of scary, actually, how easy it's been for them to come into practise and pick up choreography for one song or another, clean and go. It's taken you so long just to prepare one and a half songs; even as a trainee, you couldn't imagine being that confident after just one day.

The practise ends with an imaginary fanfare, the boys cheering themselves on through microphones before scattering to all  corners of the stage so that the band can adjust what they want to. You wander up to the stage in no real hurry, just as you had at the end of the session yesterday, hoisting yourself up onto its eddge between two lights and climbing to your feet, turning to look out at the empty auditorium.

You'd never admit it, but the sight takes your breath away. The stretch of the seats, climbing up the walls into the shadows, the shine of the lights in your eyes - and this is only a small venue. Dones and arenas stretch even further into the distance, the sea of lights infinite - if you couldn't even stand on this stage and imagine it full-

"No audience members on stage, please," Minho says behind you, wandering his way across the stage with Han trailing in his wake. "Where's security?"

He's so straightfaced that for a moment, even though you know he's joking, you wonder if he's being serious. In the next moment, Han cracks a laugh, his elbow catching MInho in his side. "What?" he says like he can't believe what he's hearing.

"What?" Minho replies, his lips curving into a smile.

"Don't be mean," Han whines, though the effect is lost in the laugh that bubbles from his mouth. It's the most relaxed you've seen him since your first week, when Felix had leaned over and said he's just shy.

"Don't worry," you say kindly, trying your best to tread carefully in this new terrain. "He does this to me all the time now."

"Ah, you know how it is then," Han sighs in agreement.

"Do you like the stage?" Minho asks, if only to draw the conversation away from his bad habits.

You nod, your eyes turning outwards again. "It's big," you comment, scanning row upon row of empty seats, all the way to the back wall. "I've never actually been on a stage in a venue like this."

Minho looks out too, eyes searching the place while he thinks of something clever to say. "It's okay," he says lightly after a moment, the tone of his voice clearly giving away that he is playing with you. "It's not that big."

"Okay, sure," you snort, and then you catch the funny, surprised look Han gives you and remember that you're still a junior here. You've begun to forget, with some of them, that they are afforded due respect as seniors, the chasm between you starting to feel smaller...but not Han, yet. Not Seungmin, or Hyunjin, or sometimes even Chan, despite how friendly he tries to be.

"Wait until award season," Minho says, patting you on the shoulder. "If we perform at those shows..."

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of it - packed arenas, audiences of other idols, international broadcasts with all kinds of eyes on them. And you weren't even playing this stage-

Sixteen weeks. And another sixteen to award season, the year over in the blink of an eye. You know by now how quickly time could disappear if you weren't careful, how six months could whittle to three and then none in the blink of an eye.

"Don't scare her, Lee Know," Chan says, pausing on his way past. A mic dangles from his hand too, flipping back and forth idly in a way that catches your eye simply for how close it seems to come each time to being dropped.

"Why would I do that?" Minho replies innocently, stepping casually out of their leader's reach. Clever, really, when he shifts just a moment before Chan can throw an arm around his shoulders to match the silly grin that's dawning on his face. "I just spent all of this time making her dance."

"Because you would," Chan says, in a voice that gets more indulgent with every syllable. "Evil rabbit."

Minho makes a noise of disgust and shuffles away two steps, nose scrunched in distaste. Across the stage, the band picks up the thread of Slump, somewhere in the verse. The lyrics spring to mind several bars later, your mind automatically catching up to them.

"Everyone's gonna be watching," Han sings casually, mic dangling by his side and his head swivelling to track the movement of the others across the stage. "I gotta show them all of me." His voice is lovely, steady and clear as a bell even at the end of their runthrough. Without a mic, he is still loud enough to be heard across the room; from several feet away, Felix lets out a loud whoop, hand up in the air as he laughs at himself.

Minho picks up where Han leaves off, pulling a face as he reaches up into the higher range of his voice once more to catch the notes. Han joins him for the final line in lieu of I.N, lost somewhere across the stage, threading in a higher harmony as the drum kicks up towards the chorus.

"Now I'm walking on my way," you sing under your breath as their voices both rise, not wanting to disturb their fun but unable to resist the rise of the music when you know the melody and you love the song. Han doesn't hear you, his back turned to look at something Felix is doing over in the corner; neither does Minho, wandering restless circles in orbit around your group as he sings. That's okay though. You didn't really want to be heard anyway, not when you aren't-

Something hard taps you on the shoulder. 

You turn, looking down; a microphone awaits, held out expectantly for you to take. Chan looks at you expectantly, the offer never wavering even though it takes you several seconds of indecision to decide what it is you're going to do about it. He waves it at you again when you don't move, insistent.

Slowly, you take it from his hand, and watch the smile that lights up across his face.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna be left stranded by myself." The sound of your voice reverberating in the rafters, filling every corner of the room, sends a shiver down your spine, a shock of lightning that winds itself into the notes that you sing, electrifying the air. To your left, Han stops singing, turning around to watch you; from the far end of the stage, Hyunjin looks up too, sharp eyes landing on you. You turn away before fear can falter in your voice, looking out to the empty crowd instead, the wide space that waits for an audience to fill it.

Imagining them there, singing along as your voice rises above them, is giddying; but why wouldn't it be, when this has been the dream all along? And now it is so close, right here within your reach and in front of your eyes, and if it runs away from you once more-

The song ends, one final note from the very back of the stage ringing out. Your voice dies in your throat, the microphone falling away - for a moment, you wish that they would start up again so that you could have four lines more, or eight, or a whole song. You could live in this feeling forever, standing here on this stage, right up until the hour of the show when people would start to fill those seats and you would have to hide away again.

In the next moment, you become distinctly aware of all the eyes that are trained on your back, and you remember that this is not where you belong.

You turn sharply on your heel to face Chan, your heart in your throat. "Thankyou," you say, in a voice that is a little too stiff to be usual, and hold out the mic for him to take.

"Hey, no worries," he replies in English as he takes it, the warm metal slipping from your grip. "Sounds good, by the way. I like your voice."

"Oh." The compliment catches you off-guard, your fingers curling around themselves in the absence of the mic. "Thanks. I've been working on the songs."

"Have you ever sung on a big stage like this?" he asks.

You shake your head, your heart jumping again at the thought of it - blinding lights and screaming crowds and the music down in your bones. "I did a survival show before I came to JYP," you say, "but the stages there were only a hundred or so people, not...thousands."

Chan's face changes, from that usual, polite warmness he puts on to a confusion that tugs at his brow. "I didn't know you were on a show," he says, in a voice that says he is dying to ask more questions.

"It wasn't very popular," you offer freely, something between a smile and a grimace turning the corners of your mouth. "It was so much work, and then they dropped two of us in the predebut stage, and disbanded six months later. I shouldn't have ever done it."

"And then JYP dropped you from Midnight as well," he adds, and then blanches at the grimace that comes across your face, rocking back on his heels. "Sorry. I didn't mean that in a bad way."

"I don't think there's any good way to say it, is there?" you reply, trying to wipe that expression off your face and slow the jump of your heart in your chest. Tension tightens in the air like a wire, expanding to fill the whole stage before it snaps. "Six years in training, three debuts lined up, and-" You stop as short as Chan did before you finish that sentence, looking at your feet to avoid looking at him. "I'm trying really hard this time, I promise. Not that I didn't try the last two times, it just didn't-"

"Hey," he says, cutting through the babble that your sentence has descended into. "I know what you mean; I was here for seven years before Stray Kids, so...I know where you're at. And you can tell me whatever you want, yeah? I'm not that scary. Ask any of them."

You lift your eyes, following the line of his finger to the seven boys he is pointing to at the back of the stage. The sharp eye of Lee Know catches yours from within the crowd, eyebrow raising as if to ask what you need; you glance away as if you hadn't noticed, eyes sliding across to the empty side of the stage. 

What are you supposed to say? I don't know if we can talk casually without it being rude, or you hold my entire life in your hands and I don't know what to do about that? If I relax before debut I'll get dropped, or I think I'm cursed? None of those things seem right to say, and when you look at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to pretend like you aren't looking at all, you realise that you're still not sure you trust him, even though it's been over a month and he's given no indication that he wants you gone bad enough to undermine you.

But he never wanted you here in the first place.

"I'm not scared of you," you say, and force yourself to look him in the eye. Your mouth is set in a grim line, your jaw clenched; you know immediately by the way the corners of his eyes crinkle that he can see through the lie, but he doesn't say anything. "I'm just really focused on making it to debut. I want to be one of you, not just...the trainee on the side."

He reaches out, hesitant as his hand lands on your shoulder. Giving you time to move away, you realise, but you don't. It's grounding, in a way, even if the proximity of him and the stretch of the stadium out around you makes you want to curl up and hide away. "You already are one of us," he insists.

But when you look into his eyes, you can tell that he doesn't really believe it - and you know that he can see that you don't really believe it either.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG translation] Joker Out: The destinies of "the Jokers" are linked

An interview with Joker Out published in the September 2024 issue of Pil magazine. Original article written by Jelka Šutej Adamič, photos by Vita Orehek. Translation by a member of JokerOutSubs, review by @kurooscoffee, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

The band Joker Out is at the centre of the Slovenian music scene, they're travelling from concert to concert, and they also have more and more fans. Right now, they're still on a big European tour titled 'See You Soon', on which they will have, or have had, at least 22 concerts in 13 countries¹. They've announced the release of a new album in the autumn. We caught up with them during the hot July days and chatted with Jure Maček, Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh and Nace Jordan, whilst Bojan Cvjetićanin wasn't able to join the conversation.

¹This interview was conducted in July 2024 and published in the September issue of Pil; the See You Soon tour is now already over.

A question that has probably been asked a hundred times already: how and when did you get together and form the band?

We formed the band out of two pre-existing ones, the bands Buržoazija and Apokalipsa. We met at a concert and decided that we should form a band together. That was in 2016, when we got together for rehearsals for the first time and named the newly formed band Joker Out.

Last autumn you sold out Stožice Arena, now you're preparing the new album and have been on a European tour for several months already. Did you imagine that you would rise so quickly?

Maybe not that it would be so quick, but we've always been quite ambitious, because we had hopes and dreams. It's true, however, that we didn't know exactly what it was that we wanted.

What would you suggest to beginners who have similar ambitions to you? How should they get to work?

They have to practise a lot and persist, they have to find the people around them who complete them. Our friends and family members helped us out a lot in the beginning. Jan's dad, for example, constantly drove us around for the first two years. We wouldn't have gotten anywhere without him. Our advice would be to use (in the positive sense of the word!) anyone who can offer help. But of course, you primarily have to play as much as possible, including with various musicians who show up on your path.

Aside from hard work, another important thing is probably the producer, someone who gives you direction, takes care of your sound, gives you advice?

Our producer is Žare Pak, who is admittedly a "peculiar fellow", but Joker Out probably wouldn't sound the same without him. He is the sixth ear of the band who listens critically and determines whether something is good enough to make a recording. At the end he puts everything we record into one package and that's what we then listen to.

Who are the other people who are by your side professionally?

We have Niko, our driver, security guard, the dad of the band. We have Maša and Sanjin who always make sure that we look good and make a good impression in interviews. Also very important is Mark Pirc, who started out as a video producer, but our collaboration has expanded into general visual artistic co-creation and coordination. Mark is our main visual producer. All the people who help out, who make a concert happen, are also part of our team, and that's not a small number. Right now, we wouldn't be able to put on a concert on our own anymore, without help. We also have to highlight Andraž Drobnič, who takes care of our clothes, our stage costumes.

Do you currently live in Ljubljana?

In Ljubljana, Logatec, and Vrhnika.

You performed in various venues on the tour – from Helsinki to Istanbul, where you're yet to go². Were any of the performances abroad particularly memorable?

Whenever we go to Finland, we're thrilled. It's always top-notch there. Last year we played in Turku where 2800 people came to listen to us, which was something special for us. The venue was sold out.

²The Istanbul gig the interviewer is referring to was later cancelled.

How does a festival performance differ from one in a concert hall or a club? Do you prepare a different programme for one versus the other?

A lot of people who don't know us come to a festival, and we adjust our playlist accordingly. The advantage of being at a festival is that we can hang out with other musicians who are playing at the same festival, because at solo concerts, we stay backstage. The most important thing at a festival is definitely that you also get the attention of people who don't know you, whereas at your own concerts, you primarily have to satisfy the wishes of your listeners.

And the audience? How does it differ from country to country?

They don't speak Slovenian anywhere, so it doesn't matter. (laughter) They differ in energy, since each country has its own unique energy. At some concerts, the audience is more intense and very energetic, at others, they sing very loudly or participate in clapping and singing on their own... Each country is a little different. Finns are the most like us, while Lithuanians are the best of all at waving. We do have a lot of fans who are with us at most of the concerts. They follow along...

Are you perhaps planning a tour in the USA?

No. Of course we'd like to go, but it's not the right time for a tour yet.

What else do you like to do when you're not behind your instruments or the microphone?

I spent all day yesterday fixing my moped. (Jure)

I like to cook, I made a good lasagna the other day! At home, I often take a look at what's happening on the music scene: innovations, new releases. (Jan)

I have a small puppy and I spend most of my free time trying to raise him to be a nice dog. (Nace)

I go to Rožnik³ to cool off. (Kris)

Basically, we like to use our free time for ourselves.

³Rožnik is a small wooded hill in Ljubljana, a very popular place for the locals to go for a walk and exercise.

Do you also hang out privately?

Yes. We would probably do that more if we weren't together so much for business too. We also go for drinks together or meet up at our rehearsal place to chat and hang out.

How do you react when you get recognised on the street? Are you nice to your fans?

We are nice and we take photos with people if they wish to do so. There might be a problem after concerts, when there are really a lot of people and you can't please everyone. But otherwise it's not a problem to sign an autograph, but what's best is to have a bit of a chat.

You've opened an Openstage platform, which makes it easier for your fans to access your activity. What has the response been like? Has it "stuck"?

It has stuck, but it's true that we constantly have to promote it. We've reached ten thousand fans on Openstage, which means that more than ten thousand people have access to exclusive things like, for example, hearing a pre-premiere snippet of our new single 'Šta bih ja', which was released in July. Besides that, they're always the first ones who can buy new articles, CDs, vinyls, and they will often have a chance to buy concert tickets on pre-sale, and maybe have some discounts too. We also get a lot of information out of it, which helps us going forwards. The fans tell us where they are and where they want to listen to us, so we can plan a tour based on that as well.

In 'Everybody's Waiting', a very intimate song, you highlight topics like anxiety, success, individualism ... How has success affected your lives?

Ever since Eurovision, we often get the feeling that we're not in control of our lives anymore. We are more or less dependent on a bigger goal and at least four other people. It seems like our future, our destiny is irrefutably linked now, and we often have a feeling that the individual can get lost within that.

I'm sure you're sticking with rock'n'roll. Nevertheless, are you still tempted by any other music genres?

We're staying based in rock'n'roll, but we can always add rhythms from other musical genres to our songs – from a hint of world music to jazz chords, electronic music, samba rhythms...

What do you think of Pil⁴?

We read Pil and we were always excited about the posters. We hope we will get another edition of the poster. (laughter) We're glad that Pil still exists, that it's just like the one we knew from our childhoods. The fact that we were already on a Pil poster once means a lot to us.

⁴Pil is a Slovenian magazine for pre-teens and young teens which has been published since 1948 and has been an important part of many Slovenians' childhoods and teenage years.

[writingrock]

the tale of two lovers [9]

pairing: barbarian! katsuki bakugou x reader (female) summary: a bard approaches a lone barbarian in search for a story to tell. Who could have known that the barbarian end up being such a romantic tale.

notes: fantasy au, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, bakusquad, barbarian bakugou

word count: 8.5k

part list

part one: chapter list

a/n: this chapter was definitely on time... don't even..

The first thing you did upon waking wasn’t meditating but checking your map and compass, ensuring the route you’d scouted the night before was still clear in your mind. You couldn’t bear to mess up at this stage of the journey. There were no room for mistakes. You were all too close to the heart of the forest to fumble now. Just the thought of what lay ahead shook off the last remnants of sleep as you traced the lines of your map, reviewing each turn and landmark until you felt confident with your memory. Only once you felt certain did you allow yourself a moment of morning meditation. Not that you had long to. One by one, the others slowly woke up, stretching and yawning as they emerged from their bedrolls, the early morning light filtering softly through the trees.

The group shuffled around the embers of the campfire, sorting up the first meal of the day. Breakfast was simple— rations from the previous day, paired with leftovers from last night. To your surprise, there was little chatter this morning. No one sharing odd dreams or complaining about someone’s snoring. Instead, everyone finished up and moved quietly through the familiar routine of packing up. Mina and Denki moved groggily through their tasks, sharing sleepy smiles as they gathered their belongings. Sero meticulously checked the area, ensuring nothing was left behind. Kirishima was already rolling up his bedroll, efficiently finishing the job. Bakugou was already waiting with his arms crossed over his chest, glancing at the group with a lick of impatience in his eyes.  

“Everyone ready?” you asked, scanning the camp alongside Sero to ensure nothing had been left behind. Though subtle, a quiet sense of anticipation seemed to ripple through the group, sharpening everyone’s focus.

It took a moment for anyone to respond, as each person made a final check of their gear and belongings. Finally, Kirishima broke the silence, springing up with his usual enthusiasm.

“Ready!” he announced, his voice brimming with energy. The others nodded in agreement, echoing his sentiment with determined expressions. But beneath their steady resolve and excitement, there was a hint of anxiety. A trace of worry from awareness of what lay ahead, of the unknown at the heart of the forest.

With everything packed, you led the way, navigating by the route you’d planned. Today, the air felt different, tinged with a subtle magic that pulsed beneath the surface, guiding you toward your destination.The path wound through the woods, the undergrowth thick but manageable. As you pressed on, the landscape began to shift. The tree trunks were twisted and ancient, draped in glowing moss that shimmered in the sunlight. The air cooled, carrying the scent of fresh water and wildflowers, each breath filling you with a sense of purpose. Hours passed in focused silence as the group forged ahead. By midday, the forest thinned, and you stepped into a vast clearing that took your breath away.

The clearing was a perfect circle, surrounded by towering trees that seemed to stand guard. The grass was lush and vibrant, soft beneath your feet like a natural carpet. Scattered across the clearing were countless unopened buds, their petals tightly furled, as if waiting for the perfect moment to bloom. At the centre lay a large pond, its surface still as glass, reflecting the sky above. Around it, clusters of night flower buds, their closed blooms hinting at the luminescent display you had seen before.

“This is it,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath as you took in the serene beauty of the heart of Niniel’s Veil. The air was dense with magical energy, making every breath feel as if you’ve inhaled fumes of pixie dust. The group stepped forward with their mouths agape in wonder and disbelief. It was as if the forest had finally opened up. And now you were standing at its heart.

Kirishima let out a low whistle, his eyes wide as he took in the sight. “Woah… this place is incredible,” he said, admiring the panoramic scene before him.

Denki stood in rare, quiet admiration. His usual carefree spirit was replaced by genuine awe. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he murmured, almost as if speaking too loudly would break the magical atmosphere.

Mina’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she spun slowly, taking in every detail of the clearing. “It’s like something out of a dream,” she said, her voice filled with childlike wonder. The flowers, still tightly furled, seemed to whisper of untold secrets, their vibrant colours muted in the dappled light.

Sero smiled softly, his gaze fixed on the large pond at the clearing’s centre. Its surface was perfectly still, reflecting the sky above like a mirror. “So this is the heart of the Veil,” he whispered to himself.

Bakugou stood a little apart from the rest, his silence not out of indifference but out of something deeper. As expected, Bakugou’s eyes have begun to sweep over the clearing, taking in every bit of detail. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind, already planning the next steps.

But the flowers, rows upon rows of unopened night blooms, created a natural barrier, making it clear that this was not a place to tread lightly. Their petals were still tightly closed, as if waiting for nightfall to reveal their true nature. You knew better than to disturb them, sensing that the heart of Niniel’s Veil was as delicate as it was powerful.

“We can’t set up camp here,” you said, your voice breaking the quiet spell. “These flowers… We should respect their space.”

You led the group a little farther from the clearing, finding a suitable spot where the ground was soft and the view of the pond remained unobstructed. “We’ll set up camp nearby,” you decided, dropping your pack onto the grass. “We need to be ready for whatever comes next.”

Without hesitation, everyone moved into familiar action, setting up tents and organising supplies with efficiency. It was calm among the group, but underneath there was an electric hum of anticipation thrummed through the gaps. 

Kirishima, who had been unrolling his bedroll, glanced up with a grin. “We made it,” he said, feeling rather relieved that they’ve made it this far. He was simply glad to finally be here to wrap up the final ends of the journey. “Now we just have to figure out what’s next.”

Denki, helping Mina build a fire, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but whatever it is, we surely got it.” Denki sounded determined, also lightened up with relief that they’re a step closer to the end of this journey. “Seriously though, look at this place— it’s like we stepped into another world.” Mina gushed as she arranged the firewood, sparing a glance over to the clearing. 

A low and firm voice grumbled from the trees. “Don’t get too comfortable. The Veil’s not done with us yet. This place… it’s hiding something. We just have to find it.” Bakugou trudged into the conversation with more firewood.

You looked around, feeling the weight of his words. The heart of Niniel’s Veil was a place of mystery, where beauty and danger intertwined, and the sense that you were standing on the edge of something great filled the air. Whatever came next, you knew it would be unlike anything you had faced before. You could feel the Veil watching, waiting, and you were ready to meet whatever challenge it had in store. This place, with its untouched beauty and strange allure, was just the beginning. The pond, surrounded by those enigmatic night flowers, held the mystery of the artefact waiting to be solved.

As the group settled into the camp, Sero rummaged through his pack with a mischievous grin. “Hey, I’ve got something to kill some time,” he announced, pulling out a worn deck of cards. The edges were frayed, and the faces were slightly faded, but they were a treasured item that had seen many nights of banter and laughter on the road.

Mina’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, yes! A card game is exactly what we need right now. What are we playing?”

Kirishima leaned over, curious. “I’m down for anything that doesn’t involve moving. All that trekking took a lot out of me.”

Denki glanced up from arranging the last of the supplies, a grin spreading across his face. “Deal me in. I could use a distraction.”

Sero shuffled the cards with a flourish, clearly proud of his impromptu idea. “Alright, how about we play ‘Dragon’s Bluff’? It’s simple: whoever has the best hand wins, but you’ve got to be a good liar to get away with it.”

Bakugou, who had been stoking the fire with a stick, gave them a questioning look. “Seriously? Sounds like a waste of time.”

You shrugged, already taking a seat around the makeshift table they’d created with a few flat rocks and logs. “Come on, Bakugou. It’s all in good fun. Besides, it’s been a long time since we’ve done something that doesn’t involve fighting for our lives.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes but eventually tossed the stick aside and joined the circle, reluctant to join in. “Fine. But don’t whine when I take all your rations as bets.”

The cards were dealt, and the game quickly turned into a lively affair. Mina tried her best to bluff her way through each round, throwing exaggerated expressions and wild gestures that had everyone laughing. Her exaggeration worsened especially when her hand was terrible. In contrast, Sero kept his cards close, playing strategically and throwing in just enough banter to keep everyone guessing.

Kirishima, honest to a fault, struggled to keep a straight face. Often bursting into laughter every time he tried to bluff, which often gave away his hand. “I’m terrible at this!” he admitted, cheeks flushed from laughing so much. “I swear I’m not lying, but you guys never believe me!”

You found yourself enjoying the game more than you expected, the chipper atmosphere a welcome change from the usual tension. Denki, meanwhile, was in his element, throwing wild accusations and daring bluffs, his animated storytelling a perfect distraction that often led to him winning rounds he had no business winning.

And then there was Bakugou, who played with a focused intensity that turned every move into a psychological game. His expression was impossible to read as he watched everyone’s tells with a predatory patience. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, it was with a smug confidence that had the others on edge. “Nice try,” he’d say, exposing a perfect hand after baiting his opponents into risky moves.

By the time the game had been going for a while, the circle around the makeshift table was filled with laughter, playful insults, and groans of defeat. Mina leaned back with a dramatic sigh, her latest bluff having just been called out by Sero. “You guys are ruthless. I swear I had that one!”

Kirishima shook his head, grinning as he tossed his cards onto the pile. “We should have known Sero had something up his sleeve when he suggested this.”

Sero only shrugged, shuffling the deck once more. “Hey, I just thought we could all use some fun. And besides, it’s not about winning or losing. It’s about the thrill, right?”

Bakugou smirked, gathering up his small pile of winnings— mostly rations and the occasional favour. “Speak for yourself. I’m winning.”

As the game continued, the sky above slowly darkened, stars beginning to twinkle faintly through the gaps in the tree canopy. The group’s laughter echoed softly in the clearing, mingling with the sounds of the forest. As the day faded into night, the sky deepened into a velvet blue. A strange and enchanting transformation began to unfold. From the darkness of the forest floor, delicate buds began to stir. One by one, luminescent night flowers emerged, their petals unfurling in a breathtaking display of ethereal beauty. They glowed with a soft, silvery light, casting an otherworldly luminescence over the landscape.

The flowers’ petals opened slowly, like the shy unveiling of a secret, revealing their inner glow to the world. Their light danced across the field, creating a mesmerising tapestry of shimmering colours that swayed gently in the breeze. In the centre of the nearby pond, a larger night flower began to rise. Its bloom was immense, its petals spreading wide like the canopy of a great tree, casting an even brighter glow that illuminated the entire area with a gentle, otherworldly light.

Kirishima’s eyes widened in amazement. “Whoa, look at that! It’s huge!”

Denki whistled softly, his usual energy replaced with awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like something out of a dream.”

Mina, her gaze fixed on the grand flower, added, “It’s beautiful. Almost surreal.”

Sero nodded, his eyes twinkling with the reflection of the luminescent scene before him. “It’s like the forest is putting on a show just for us.”

You took in the scene, a deep sense of nostalgia washing over you. The sight of the night flowers brought back memories of a time long past, when you had witnessed this same magical event with your father. The memory was bittersweet, a reminder of days spent exploring the wonders of nature with someone who was your father and mentor. It was a blissful memory, one you’d treasure for the rest of your days.

Shaking off the melancholy, you turned to the group, trying to keep your tone light yet firm. “Be careful, everyone. These night flowers are not just for show. They produce drowsy pollen. It’s best to cover your mouths with something, or you might find yourself dozing off unexpectedly.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened slightly, staring down at the innocent-looking flowers. “Seriously? Should we do anything else to stay alert?”

You nodded, pulling a scarf from your pack and wrapping it around your face. “Just be cautious. It’s a beautiful sight, but the pollen can be quite potent. Keep your distance if you start feeling drowsy.”

The group nodded in understanding, quickly following your lead. With their faces covered, they ventured towards the pond, their curiosity piqued by the grand night flower. Each step brings them closer to the heart of the forest's enchanting display. As they approached the pond, the grandeur of the enormous night flower dominated their view. Its petals unfurled in a delicate cascade of light, bathing the surroundings in a soft, ethereal glow. You were willing to bet that the artefact lay somewhere within this captivating bloom, but you needed a closer look.

You reached for your scarf, intending to remove it for a clearer view of the massive bloom before you. But as your fingers brushed the fabric, you hesitated, a sharp reminder flashing in your mind of the danger that the flower’s pollen posed. The air was thick with the faint, shimmering dust, barely visible but undoubtedly potent. Exposing yourself fully to it could prove reckless, and you knew better than to take that risk.

Instead, you tightened your grip on the scarf wrapped securely around your mouth and nose, feeling the familiar weave of fabric pressing against your skin. You considered your options carefully, the gears in your mind turning as you stared at the flower, its petals vibrant and impossibly large, each one curling delicately at the edges as though hiding a secret within.

An idea struck, and you extended your arm, calling forth your familiar, Kyrah, a majestic eagle with sharp, piercing eyes and feathers that shimmered in the light. With a flick of your wrist, Kyrah appeared, wings beating powerfully as it hovered beside you, sensing your intent even before you spoke.

“Kyrah,” you commanded, your voice steady as you kept the scarf over your nose and mouth. “Fly over the flower. Show me what’s inside.”

Kyrah’s keen eyes locked onto the target, understanding your request immediately. Kyrah soared upward, wings cutting through the air with silent grace. As the eagle approached the enormous flower, the view shifted, the petals growing larger, each vein and fleck of colour more distinct. You murmured a brief incantation, your words quiet and deliberate as you tapped into the bond between you. The spell took hold, and your vision blurred momentarily as it shifted, merging with Kyrah’s. In an instant, you were no longer seeing through your own eyes but through those of your familiar, the world transformed into crisp, vivid detail. You saw everything through Kyrah’s sight: the shimmering golden pollen dusting the petals, the delicate movements of the flower as if breathing in time with the forest around it.

Kyrah circled above, giving you a clear vantage point. As it hovered over the flower’s centre, you finally glimpsed what lay within: a cluster of glowing orbs, pulsating softly with a light that was almost otherworldly. The orbs were nestled deep among the petals, emitting a faint, rhythmic hum that resonated through the air, almost musical in its tone. They glowed with a faint, bluish light, each one connected by slender tendrils of translucent vines that seemed to pulse in harmony.

You focused, absorbing every detail, your heart racing at the sight. You had never been this close to this flower when you were here with your father. It was clear that it was no ordinary flower— the sheer size of it spoke volumes. Whatever it guarded was alive, charged with a strange, unfamiliar magic that tugged at your senses. You knew immediately that the orbs were an obstacle to whatever mystery the heart of Niniel’s Veil held. But their exact purpose remained elusive, cloaked in layers of enchantment that you could only begin to decipher. Based on the riddle, you could only assume the artefact would lay in there. 

Kyrah swooped lower, giving you a closer look, but the pollen grew thicker, swirling like a shimmering mist around the orbs. You watched as tiny sparks of energy danced within the pollen, flickering like fireflies trapped in amber. It was beautiful, mesmerising even, but there was also a danger to it— one wrong move and you could find yourself ensnared by the flower’s strange magic.

“Careful, Kyrah,” you whispered, even though you knew your familiar couldn’t hear you directly. The bond between you was strong enough that Kyrah sensed your caution, pulling back just slightly, maintaining a safe distance while still providing you with a view of the orbs.

With a final sweep, Kyrah flew back toward you, landing gracefully on your outstretched arm. The vision shifted back to your own eyes, leaving you momentarily disoriented but filled with the knowledge of what you had seen. The flower was a guardian of something precious and powerful, and whatever lay within those glowing orbs had to be the artefact Bakugou had been searching for. You lowered your arm, feeling the weight of the discovery settle in. 

You took a deep breath, your mind still reeling from what you had seen through Kyrah’s eyes. The glowing orbs nestled within the massive flower were unlike anything you had encountered before. They were humming with an ancient magic that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the forest itself. 

The group gathered around, curiosity etched on their faces as they waited for you to speak. Bakugou’s stares never left you, his arms crossed and posture tense, while Mina and Kirishima exchanged worried glances. Denki fidgeted nervously, clearly eager to hear what you had found, and Sero watched you with a cautious, measured calm.

“What’s in there?” Kirishima asked, a touch of concern in his voice. “You looked like you saw something big.”

You nodded, collecting your thoughts before you began. “I did. There’s a cluster of glowing orbs, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They’re nestled deep within the petals, and they’re… alive. Pulsating with some kind of magic.”

Mina leaned forward, absorbing your words as she puzzled with the implication of the magical orbs in the flower. What could those orbs do? “Orbs? What do you think they are? Are they dangerous?”

You glanced at her, then back to the rest of the group. “I’m not entirely sure what they are, but they’re not just decoration. There’s an ancient magic to them— one that’s tied to the Veil itself. I think the orbs are protecting whatever lies at the centre of the flower, and we need to be extremely careful. I suspect that the artefact we’re looking for is in there, hidden among those orbs.”

Denki’s brows furrowed as he tried to picture what you were describing. “So, you’re saying those glowy things are like… protective measures or something?”

You nodded, your expression serious. “Exactly. The orbs are like guardians, in a way. I felt it through Kyrah’s eyes. The magic is old, ancient even, and it’s designed to keep intruders out. If we make the wrong move or trigger them, there’s no telling what could happen. They could be traps, alarms, or worse.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed, his mind already racing with possibilities. “So what’s the plan? We just sit here and wait? Or are you saying we go in blind?”

“We can’t go in recklessly,” you cautioned, meeting Bakugou’s intense gaze. “If we disturb those orbs without understanding what they do, we could set off something catastrophic. They’re too sensitive, and this magic… it’s not something we’ve dealt with before. We need to find a way to disable or bypass them, but not until we know exactly what we’re up against.”

Sero rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the flower. “So, what’s our next move? Can we get a closer look without setting them off?”

You thought for a moment, weighing your options. “We’ll need to study them from a distance, carefully,” you began. “I can use Kyrah again to scout further, maybe find a pattern or a safe way through. But none of us should touch the flower or the orbs directly until we have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.”

Kirishima nodded, his usually cheerful expression now marked with caution. “Alright, so no poking the magic orbs. Got it. We’ll play this one smart.”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to share another critical piece of information. “There’s something else you all need to know. The flower is emitting a potent pollen— similar to the night flowers in the clearing, but much stronger. If we get too close without proper protection, it could knock us out cold.”

Mina’s eyes widened with concern. “That bad, huh? How close do you think we can get before it affects us?”

“Not very,” you replied. “Even from a distance, I could feel its pull. It’s subtle, but powerful. The pollen in the night flowers was enough to make us drowsy, but this one… it’s on a whole different level. If we’re not careful, it could overwhelm us before we even get a chance to react.”

Mina stepped back instinctively, her expression shifting as she processed the information. “So it’s like a defence mechanism, right? The flower lulls you in, makes you drop your guard. If you get too close, you’re done for.”

“Exactly,” you confirmed, watching the swirling particles drift lazily in the air. “The pollen is meant to disarm anyone who gets too close. It’s subtle, but it’s powerful. If we breathe too much of it, we’ll be vulnerable, drowsy, and easy prey for whatever else this place has in store.”

Sero frowned, glancing toward the massive flower. “So, not only do we have to worry about those orbs, but we’ve got to deal with sleep-inducing pollen too? Sounds like a real party.”

“It’s going to be difficult,” you said. “We need to be fully aware of the risks. If anyone starts feeling lightheaded or sleepy, we back off immediately. The last thing we need is someone collapsing before we’ve even figured out how to approach this.”

Bakugou scowled, irritation flashing across his face. “This thing’s got traps on traps. Can’t we just blow it out of the way?”

You shook your head quickly, knowing that would only make things worse. “No. We can’t just force our way through. The flower and the orbs are connected. If we try to destroy it, there’s no telling what kind of reaction we’ll trigger. The pollen could spread, or worse, the orbs could activate.”

Denki, trying to keep the mood light, offered a small grin. “This isn’t going to be an easy one, huh?”

You gave a tight smile, appreciating his attempt to ease the tension. “Unfortunately. But we’re not rushing in blind. We’ll take our time, study the situation, and only make a move when we’re confident we can do it safely.”

The group nodded in agreement, the weight of the challenge before you settled in. The combination of the potent pollen and the ancient magic guarding the flower meant that this would be one of the most delicate operations you’d ever attempted. But you knew you could find a way through, especially with your party. 

“Let’s stay focused,” your resolute tone rings through the group. “We’ll figure this out, step by step. Kyrah will help us map a safe path, and we’ll keep our distance until we’re sure we can approach without triggering anything— or putting ourselves in danger.”

With that, the plan was set in motion. Caution would be your greatest ally in this final stage of the journey, and as you prepared to send Kyrah out once more, you steeled yourself for the challenge ahead. 

Kyrah took to the skies once more, her powerful wings cutting through the air with silent grace as she soared overhead. You focused on your familiar, your vision blurring and shifting until you were seeing through her sharp, keen eyes. The world below came into crystal-clear focus. Every petal, every swirl of pollen, and every faint glow of the orbs within the flower was laid bare before you.

Kyrah circled above the enormous bloom, her movements careful and deliberate, studying every detail of the flower’s structure. The petals were vast and slightly curled, creating layers that shielded the glowing orbs at the centre. The pollen drifted like a fine mist, shimmering faintly in the sunlight, thicker near the heart of the flower where the magic was most concentrated.

As Kyrah hovered, you scanned the area, searching for a path through the dense layers of petals and pollen that wouldn’t trigger the ancient magic protecting the orbs. It was like navigating a living maze— one wrong turn could unleash whatever power the flower was guarding. You watched closely, noting the way the petals shifted ever so slightly, almost as if responding to Kyrah’s presence.

There was a narrow gap between two of the larger petals, a space just wide enough for someone to pass through without touching the orbs directly. It led to a less concentrated pocket of pollen, a rare break in the flower’s defences. You traced the route mentally, marking each twist and turn in your mind, calculating the safest approach.

Kyrah swooped lower, getting a closer look at the pattern of the pollen’s movement. It swirled like a slow, deliberate dance, and you could see faint trails of energy sparking between the orbs, reacting to the shifts in the air. The path was tight and would require precise navigation, but it was there— a possible route to the heart of the flower.

“Good girl,” you whispered, guiding Kyrah back with a thought. She responded instantly, banking gracefully and returning to you. Her presence was a comforting weight as she perched on your shoulder. The vision snapped back to your own eyes, leaving you momentarily disoriented but at the very least, you know where to go now. 

Turning to the team, you relayed what you had seen. “There’s a way in,” you said, your voice steady but tightened with caution. “It’s not easy, but there’s a narrow path between the petals that avoids most of the pollen and the orbs. We’ll need to move slowly and carefully, but it’s possible.”

Kirishima listened intently, nodding as he visualised the route in his mind. “Alright, so we just need to stick to that path. No touching anything we don’t need to.”

Mina glanced at the flower, feeling her nerves buzzing under her skin. “And if we mess up? What happens if we trigger one of those orbs?”

You met her gaze, not sugarcoating the danger. “If we trigger them, there’s no telling what could happen. The magic is unpredictable— at best, we get a warning. At worst… it could be lethal. We have to be precise.”

Bakugou crossed his arms, his eyes fixed on the flower. Narrowing at them as if he had a personal grudge against the flower. “We can’t afford any mistakes. You lead the way. We’ll follow your instructions to the letter.”

Sero and Denki exchanged uneasy looks, but they nodded, their trust in you clear. “We’ve got this,” Sero said, his voice calm and reassuring. “Just show us where to go.”

You adjusted your scarf one last time, feeling the weight of the challenge ahead. The danger ahead is unnerving but there is no other way. “We move slowly. Keep covered, and follow the path exactly. No shortcuts, no rushing.”

With a final deep breath, you led the way, Kyrah perched on your shoulder as your guide. The flower loomed ahead, majestic and foreboding, but you moved with confidence, every step measured and deliberate. One by one, your team followed, navigating the twisting path through the petals, every motion precise.

You took the first step toward the massive flower, your heart beating steadily as you approached the narrow gap between the towering petals. The air was cool and tinged with the faint scent of the pollen, a fragrance that was deceptively pleasant but underlined by the subtle, magical potency that hummed in the atmosphere. Kyrah shifted slightly on your shoulder, her presence grounding you as you moved forward, guiding the team into the flower’s enigmatic embrace.

The gap between the petals was barely wide enough to slip through without touching the delicate surfaces. Each petal was a vibrant tapestry of swirling colours— deep purples, luminous blues, and shimmering golds that caught the light and refracted it in an enchanting display. As you slipped into the narrow passage, the walls of the petals seemed to close around you, like the mouth of a living labyrinth, pulsating faintly with the life force of the flower.

You moved slowly, each step deliberate, mindful of the swirling clouds of pollen that drifted lazily around you. The faint luminescence of the particles gave the air an ethereal glow, casting everything in a soft, dreamlike haze. You could feel the magic pressing in, testing your every move, waiting for the slightest mistake to entrap you.

Behind you, Kirishima followed, his large frame moving with surprising delicacy as he kept close, careful not to disturb the petals. His breath was steady, but you could sense his alertness, every muscle poised to react if things went wrong. “This place… it’s like walking through a living painting,” he murmured, voice hushed with a mix of awe and caution.

Mina was next, admiring the flower as she navigated the narrow path, her movements light and nimble. She reached out instinctively to steady herself but pulled back just in time, realising how close she’d come to brushing against a petal. “This is… unreal,” she whispered, barely daring to speak louder than a breath. “It’s like it’s alive.”

Sero and Denki moved carefully, their eyes darting around, taking in the strange beauty while keeping a wary eye on the pollen. Sero’s face was calm, but his brows were furrowed in concentration, every step taken with precision. Denki’s movements were slow as he mirrored your every action. 

Bakugou’s expression is locked in a fierce concentration. Scanning every detail for every possible threat. He moved with a predator’s grace, avoiding the pollen with sharp, deliberate motions. “Keep moving,” he said, more a reminder to himself than anyone else. “Eyes on the path.”

The air grew colder as you descended deeper into the flower’s core, the light dimming to a soft, bluish hue that emanated from the glowing orbs nestled at the centre. They pulsed with a quiet rhythm, each beat sending ripples of energy that made the pollen shiver and dance in response. You could feel the magic intensifying, a low hum that resonated in your bones, urging you forward and warning you all at once.

You glanced back, ensuring everyone was still on track. The team’s faces were set with persistence, shadows and light playing across their features as they moved with you. The narrow passage twisted slightly, curving inward as it led you closer to the flower’s heart. The walls tightened, forcing you to duck and weave to avoid brushing against the shimmering petals. It felt like walking through a tunnel made of silk and starlight, fragile and impossibly beautiful.

The path opened slightly as you reached the centre, the glowing orbs now directly in front of you, suspended in a delicate tangle of tendrils that pulsed with the flower’s lifeblood. They were mesmerising, each orb swirling with light and shadow, tiny storms of magic contained within translucent shells. The air around them was thick with power, and you could feel it brushing against your skin, prickling like static electricity.

You raised a hand, signalling the group to stop. Everyone froze, their breaths quiet, eyes locked on the orbs that guarded the artefact within. The atmosphere was charged, and the slightest disturbance could unleash whatever ancient force lay dormant in the flower’s core.

“We’re almost there,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “Stay focused. We can’t make any mistakes.”

One by one, you led them closer, moving along the narrow path that wove between the orbs. Each step felt like navigating the edge of a knife, the tension almost palpable as you manoeuvred through the intricate web of petals and magic. The flower seemed to sense your presence, its petals fluttering faintly as if acknowledging your careful intrusion.

The centre of the flower opened up slightly, revealing a clear view of the artefact—a small, intricately carved steel sphere set within the web of glowing orbs. Its surface was etched with ancient symbols, each line glowing faintly as if whispering secrets from a long-forgotten age. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you, the culmination of your journey so close and yet still wrapped in layers of magic and danger. With a deep breath, you steadied yourself, knowing that the next steps would determine the outcome of everything you had fought for.

“Alright,” you said softly, your voice carrying the gravity of the task ahead. “We need to take this slowly. No sudden moves. We retrieve the artefact, and we get out. Together.”

Kirishima nodded, his jaw set with determination as he followed your lead, every muscle taut with focus. Mina crept behind him, her gaze flickering between the glowing orbs and the artefact at the centre. Sero and Denki moved in tandem, their footsteps silent, their breathing shallow as they navigated the delicate path. Bakugou, at the rear, kept his eyes locked on every detail, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

The orbs pulsed softly, casting faint shadows that danced along the petals. As you inched closer, you noticed the orbs were not just suspended—they were subtly tethered to the artefact by thin, almost invisible strands of light. These connections pulsed in sync with the orbs, like a web of veins pumping magical energy directly into the artefact. Whatever magic protected it was still active, alive, and watching.

You paused just a few feet away from the artefact, signalling for the group to halt. “We can’t just take it,” you said, keeping your voice low. “It’s connected to the orbs. If we pull it free, we risk setting off whatever defences are still active.”

Mina’s brow furrowed as she stared at the thin strands of light connecting the orbs to the artefact. “So how do we get it without triggering… whatever this is?”

You considered the question, examining the web of light for any weaknesses or patterns. “We need to sever the connections,” you said thoughtfully. “But carefully—one wrong move, and we could set off a chain reaction.” It was a dangerous task but you saw no other option.

Denki looked uneasy, glancing at the shimmering web. “So, like detaching it? Do we even know what happens if we break those links?”

Bakugou’s eyes flicked over to you, his expression serious. “We’ve dealt with traps before. We just need to stay sharp. You got this,” he said, his confidence in you clear. 

You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves as you reached for a small, precise blade tucked at your side. “Kyrah, keep watch,” you whispered, sending your familiar to hover above, vigilant for any changes in the flower’s behaviour. You carefully moved closer, extending your hand to the nearest glowing strand. It vibrated faintly, humming with energy that prickled against your skin. 

The first cut was a slow, careful slice, the blade barely grazing the strand before it severed with a soft, almost musical twang. The orb shivered but remained stable, its light dimming only slightly. You let out a deep breath you had, the ache of fear pumping through your chest. 

“First one’s done,” you whispered. “No sudden changes.”

The team watched in tense silence as you continued to sever the strands, each cut deliberate and precise. With every connection you broke, the orbs pulsed more faintly, their light waning as the artefact’s glow grew stronger. You were making progress. Goosebumps prickled at your skin as you continued this arduous process.

Just as you were about to sever the final strand, the flower shuddered, its petals quivering as if sensing the impending loss of the artefact. The pollen in the air thickened, swirling around you in a shimmering cloud that pulsed in time with the remaining strands. You felt a tug at your consciousness, as though the flower itself was reaching out, testing your resolve.

“Almost there,” you said, your voice strained but steady. “Stay focused. We’re almost through.”

With one final, careful motion, you cut the last strand. The artefact glowed brightly, freed from its magical bonds, but the moment was bittersweet. The flower let out a soft, mournful hum, as you reached forward, gingerly lifting the artefact from its resting place. It was warm to the touch, thrumming with residual energy, and as you held it up, the symbols etched into its surface seemed to shift and shimmer, whispering secrets of a bygone era.

“We’ve got it,” you said, turning to the group, relief flooding through you. The team exhaled collectively, their tense postures easing as they realised the worst was over.

Kirishima clapped you on the shoulder, his grin wide and full of admiration. “You did it. We did it.”

Mina looked at the artefact, her eyes bright with wonder. “It’s beautiful… and we finally have now.”

Bakugou’s gaze lingered on the artefact. A satisfied smirk crossed his face. “Took you long enough,” he teased, though there was no mistaking the pride in his tone.

With the artefact in hand, you all began the careful retreat, retracing your steps through the flower’s pinched path. The journey out felt lighter, the tension of the unknown replaced by the exhilaration of success. 

As you emerged back into the clearing, the weight of the artefact in your hands felt like both an end and a beginning— a key that would unlock the next chapter of your journey. Emerging from the night flower’s cavernous interior, the group breathed in the fresher air of the night, the effects of the pollen gradually fading. The flower’s glow dimmed behind them as they made their way back to the camp, ready for much needed rest after the taxing climb and the encounter with the potent pollen.

The trek back to camp was subdued, each step heavy with exhaustion. It seemed even with some protection, the pollen still seeped through. Some are more affected than others. The effects of the potent pollen were clear: Denki and Mina, both more affected than the others, stumbled with a driftiness that made their movements lethargic. Kirishima and Bakugou lent their support, guiding them carefully through the forest paths. 

As the group arrived at camp, the firelight cast long shadows over the clearing. Mina and Denki were already half-asleep, their eyes struggling to stay open. You and the others gently helped them settle into their bedrolls, tucking them in with a soft touch to ensure they were comfortable and warm. The faint glow of the fire danced across their peaceful faces, a stark contrast to the earlier intensity of the night.

Once the two were settled, you joined the rest of the team around the fire, where the relic rested on a small cloth spread out for examination. The relic was a striking metal sphere, exquisitely crafted with intricate astral carvings that seemed to shimmer with their own inner light. The metal surface was etched with swirling patterns, delicate yet profound, and at its centre, a glowing purple light pulsed softly, casting an ethereal glow that flickered like stardust.

The team gathered around the fire, their faces illuminated by the gentle light of the relic. The warmth of the fire provided a welcome contrast to the chill of the night, and the group’s mood was one of both relief and contemplation.

Bakugou, still catching his breath from the climb, examined the relic with a mix of satisfaction and wariness. “So, this is it, huh?” He grunted, “It’s taken us this long, but we’ve finally got it.”

Kirishima nodded, his gaze fixed on the glowing relic. “I’m glad we got it, but I also can’t help but think of how much further we still have to go.”

Sero, who had been silent for most of the evening, finally spoke up. “This is a big step, though. We’ve managed to retrieve the third piece. There’s still more to do, but this is a solid victory. We can rest tonight, regroup, and then figure out our next move.”

As the fire crackled softly, Bakugou took another look at the relic, his expression thoughtful. “We did good tonight. But Sero’s right,” He looks to Sero as he speaks, agreeing with his words. “Let’s not forget that this is only the beginning. We’ve got more pieces to find, and more dangers to face. But for now, we rest.”

The team nodded in agreement, the weight of their journey momentarily lifted by the sight of their hard-earned prize. The fire’s warmth and the relic’s gentle glow provided a moment of tranquillity before the next phase of their adventure.

As the night deepened and the firelight flickered, the group settled into a relaxed quiet, each person lost in their own thoughts, contemplating the journey ahead. The relic, now a tangible symbol of their progress, glowed faintly in the firelight. Though exhaustion weighed on everyone, there was also a quiet feeling of accomplishment. Everyone had come so far. 

You quietly rose, slipping away from the camp and heading toward the clearing where the night flowers bloomed. Their soft, luminescent petals glowed under the moonlight, swaying gently in the cool breeze as if they were breathing along with the night. You wanted to pick them— gathering some of the pollen for future use. Last night’s collection with Bakugou hadn’t yielded anything as powerful as these, and you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to gather more. It was potent, and who knew when its properties might come in handy again? You moved carefully, taking care not to disturb the flowers too much as you began collecting the shimmering dust into small pouches.

As you focused on your task, the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor reached your ears, and you turned to see Bakugou making his way toward you. He approached with a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “You’re not sneaking off to get yourself into more trouble, are you?” he asked, his hands on his hips as he towered over your kneeled form. “Last thing we need is you knocked out cold from this crap.”

You smiled faintly, amused by his thinly veiled concern. “I’m just gathering some of the pollen. Figured it might be useful later on.” You gestured to the glowing flowers, their petals delicate and otherworldly. “Besides, someone has to make sure we’re prepared for whatever’s next.”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. "Weren't the ones from last night enough?" He remembered the previous night's foray in the woods, the moonlight casting long shadows as you both carefully harvested the blooms.

You shook your head, focusing on the task at hand. "These are different; they're much more potent," you explained, emphasising the unique properties of the new flowers. Your hands worked deftly, ensuring not a speck of the valuable pollen was wasted.

Bakugou huffed, his expression softening as he stepped closer, inspecting the night flowers. “These damn things… I’ve never seen anything like it.” He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to help, carefully holding open one of the pouches as you brushed the pollen into it. The task was simple, but the quiet between you was easy, almost comforting.

As you and Bakugou worked under the glowing canopy of night flowers, a gentle silence enveloped the clearing. The delicate pollen sifted into the bags you had brought, each grain shimmering like stardust in the moonlight, tiny flecks of magic that seemed to hold the secrets of the Veil itself. 

“You’re pretty damn meticulous about this,” he remarked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Guess that’s what makes you good at what you do.”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips curling into a small smile. “It’s just part of the job. But it helps to be thorough… ”

As you finished filling the pouch, Bakugou glanced up at the night flowers above, their glow softening his usually sharp features. “You know, this whole thing… it’s not how I pictured it. Working with you, I mean. Thought you’d be more of a pain.”

You laughed softly, tying off the pouch and meeting his gaze. “And here I thought you’d be impossible to work with. Turns out we’re both stubborn, just in different ways.”

Bakugou smirked, shaking his head. “Guess that’s why it works. Anyway, don’t go hoarding all this crap. I don’t want to find out it’s toxic the hard way.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that slipped onto your lips. “I promise I won’t poison anyone. But thanks for the help.”

The serenity of the moment made you reflective, memories tugging at your thoughts as you worked. You watched the delicate night flowers sway gently in the breeze, their glowing petals casting a soft, ethereal light. “You know,” you began, breaking the comfortable silence, “the first time I saw these night flowers bloom was with my father. We were on a similar trek through a magical forest. He said these flowers were special, that there were countless wonders like this in the world.”

Bakugou’s eyes remained fixed on the task, but his quiet attentiveness encouraged you to continue. “What else did he say?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, tinged with genuine curiosity.

You smiled faintly, letting the memory wash over you like a warm breeze. “He told me that there’s so much more out there, beyond what we can see. He hoped seeing things like this would inspire me to travel, to explore as much as I could. It was his way of encouraging me to never settle, to always seek out new experiences, no matter how far or dangerous.”

Bakugou’s fingers paused for a moment, and you could see the weight of your words reflected in his expression. He didn’t often speak of his own past, but you knew there was something about your story that resonated with him. “Sounds like he knew what he was talking about,” he said, almost begrudgingly, as if admitting a truth he rarely voiced. “There’s a lot out there, and it’s easy to forget that when you’re stuck in one place, dealing with the same old crap.”

The quiet moment between you was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the forest floor. Sero and Kirishima emerged from the shadows, drawn by the glow of the flowers and the hushed conversation. They hesitated briefly, not wanting to intrude, but curiosity got the better of them.

“Hey, what are you two doing out here?” Kirishima asked, trying to sound casual but clearly intrigued by the sight of you and Bakugou working together under the glowing canopy.

You glanced up, a bit surprised but not displeased to see them. “Just collecting pollen. It’s valuable, and we could use it for all kinds of things. Might come in handy later.”

Sero shot Bakugou a sly grin. “Looks like you’re having a heart-to-heart. We figured we’d crash the party and lend a hand.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes but didn’t bother arguing, instead handing Sero an empty pouch with a gruff nod. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re here now, so don’t just stand around. Grab some pollen. We need all the help we can get.”

Kirishima joined in, his broad smile contagious as he took his place beside you. “So, what’s the story with these flowers? They really bring back memories, don’t they?”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued your careful work. “They do. My father had this way of making everything seem magical. These flowers... they always look the same, every time I see them, but somehow they never lose that sense of wonder.”

Sero glanced over at you, peering at the pollen you've collected. “Sounds like your dad was a pretty inspiring guy. No wonder you’ve got such a sense of adventure, always looking for the next big thing.”

The four of you worked together, gathering the reflective pollen in a rhythm that felt natural, the task transforming into a shared experience. The gentle glow of the night flowers illuminated your small gathering, casting a warm, soft light over the clearing. Kirishima’s voice broke the quiet, his tone lighter, more playful. “So, what’s next after this? Another adventure waiting around the corner?”

You laughed, glancing over at Bakugou, who gave a small, begrudging nod, his usual stoic expression tinged with a hint of anticipation. “We’ll see,” you replied, your smile genuine. “For now, we’ve got a good haul of pollen and a bit more of the night’s magic to savour.”

As you continued to work, the atmosphere was filled with an easy companionship, the earlier tensions of the journey momentarily forgotten in the gentle glow of the night flowers. The night flowers, which had once been a reminder of your past, now symbolised the experiences you were all gathering together. Under their glowing canopy, your bonds strengthened. The journey and friendships were growing, day by day, moment by moment.

previous chapter

next chapter

a/n: one more chapter oh my god oh my god @chocogoldie @devils-adversary @l0kisbitch @miikii0 @onlyisaa @sleepisfortheweakpooh @helena-way07 @enzstr @kitsunetori

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

© writingrock 2024 do not copy, translate or repost.

[nxzz-skz]

collision (skz x reader)

ᯓ★ idol!minho falling for his enemy fem!reader

ᯓ★warnings: minho is kinda mean at first, enemies to lovers, kissing

ᯓ★note: i'm starting a tag list so leave a comment or ask to be added!

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

This wasn't how it was meant to be. This was supposed to be you big break. Landing a choreography role with JYP Entertainment had been a dream ever since you'd started training as a dancer. This was your chance to work on something big, to get you noticed-helping choreograph Stray Kids' comeback. you'd spend days studying their movements, watched every stage performance, and prepared endlessly for this moment.

But then it happened.

He happened.

From the moment you first met Lee Minho, you knew he was here for trouble. Handsome, talented, and annoying full of himself, he had that untouchable aura of someone who didn't feel the need to prove themselves. He carried himself with an effortless swag that struck all your nerves. And to make matters worse, he clearly didn't like you either.

The first rehearsal was proof of that.

"It's too stiff," he said, eyes locked on the monitor showing playback of the group's routine. "That transition doesn't flow."

You stiffened, gripping your phone a little tighter. "It's supposed to have a pause there. It's deliberate."

"Well, it looks awkward. And stupid." he shot back, still watching the monitor. "If you're going for 'deliberate,' you missed the mark."

"Maybe it looks awkward because you're not hitting it properly," you retorted. The other members let out a collective "ooh," exchanging amused glances.

Minho raised an eyebrow at you, lips curving into a slow, disbelieving smirk. It was the kind of smirk that said, Oh, you think you can challenge me? He tilted his head, eyes narrowing with amusement and something sharper.

"Alright," he said, stepping forward and clearing his throat. "Why don't you show me how it's done then. You're clearly the expert here."

"Gladly," you shot back, slamming your phone on the table and striding to the centre of the room.

Everyone sat down and watched as you executed the move with surgical precision, your body snapping into each position with absolute control. When you finished, breathing heavily and running a hand through your hair, you turned to face him. "Like that."

There was a pause, the kind of pause that made your heart pound in your chest. His eyes scanned over you slowly, studying every single one of your features. And then, to your complete surprise, he slowly nodded.

"Not bad," he muttered, already turning away, grabbing a bottle of water.

Not bad.

That was only the start of it.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The following weeks were exhausting. Between choreographing new moves and teaching the members, you were pushed to your limit. But your biggest source of frustration wasn’t the moves. It was Minho.

He questioned every decision, challenged every suggestion, and made you second-guess everything you thought you knew. Your exchanges became the highlight of rehearsals—cutting remarks, sharp looks, and just enough chemistry to make the others watch you both like a live-action drama. Han, in particular, loved it.

“Can you two fight more often?” he teased one afternoon. “It’s better than TV.”

You scowled at him, throwing a towel at his head. “Shut up, Han.”

But the teasing didn’t stop. The others began making comments like, "What’s the bet for how long before they kill each other?” and "That’s not tension, that’s foreplay.” You ignored them, but it was impossible not to notice the way Minho’s eyes lingered on you just a little too long.

And then one night, everything shifted.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

It was 11:50 PM, and you were still at the practice room, reviewing footage. Everyone else had left hours ago. Your eyes were sore, and you were on the verge of giving up when you heard the creak of the door.

You looked up, expecting Bang Chan, but instead, it was him.

Minho stepped inside, bare faced, bangs let down to fall in front of his eyes, his hoodie pulled low, his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked just as tired as you felt, but he didn't say anything as he walked up to sit beside you on the bench.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” he muttered, eyes on the monitor.

“Could say the same to you,” you replied, not looking at him. You kept your eyes on the footage, scrolling back to the part of the routine you’d been obsessing over.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the monitor. But then, he broke the silence.

“You’re too harsh on yourself,” he said quietly.

Your fingers froze on the playback controls. Slowly, you turned to him. “What?”

He leaned back, resting his head on the wall, his eyes still on the screen. “You’re tired, and it’s messing with your head. That move isn’t as bad as you think.”

You blinked at him, not sure how to respond. He wasn’t wrong, but hearing it from him—the person you’d been butting heads with for weeks—made it hit differently. You stared at him, searching for any sign that he was joking or teasing.

He wasn’t.

The silence between you became filled with something neither of you wanted to name. You were so used to bickering with him, so used to trading insults, that this moment of quiet understanding felt like unfamiliar territory. You weren’t sure what to do with it.

So you said the only thing you could. “Thanks, Minho.”

He glanced at you, his lips quirking into a small, rare smile.

“Don’t mention it.”

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The next few weeks were different. You still argued, but it wasn’t as sharp as before. It felt more like… banter. The others noticed it too.

“You two are acting weird,” said Changbin one day, narrowing his eyes at you both. “Did something happen?”

“Nope,” you replied too quickly. Minho snorted.

“Yeah, she’s just finally learning to listen,” he said, giving you a smug look.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snapped, though you couldn’t hide your smile.

It became a pattern. He’d tease, you’d fire back. But beneath it all, there was something new—something neither of you could ignore.

Then came the scandal.

The leaked video of Hyunjin at a club with a girl hit social media like a bomb. Fans were angry, the company was scrambling, and the mood in the practice room was tense. No one talked, and even Minho, who always had something to say, was quiet.

It all came to a head one day when he lost it during rehearsal.

“Can you stop messing up that move?!” he snapped at Jeongin. “It’s not that hard.”

“Minho,” you warned. “That’s enough.”

He turned on you, eyes roaring with frustration. “Don’t tell me what’s enough.”

You felt your heart tighten in your chest. “I’m not telling you. I’m asking you not to take it out on them.”

He froze.

The room went quiet. Everyone glanced between you two like they were waiting for something to explode. Minho’s jaw clenched, his eyes dark and unreadable, but instead of lashing out again, he turned on his heel and left.

“Go after him,” Felix muttered to you.

“Why me?” you asked, even though you knew the answer.

“Because,” he said with a knowing look, “he’ll actually listen to you.”

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

You found him on the rooftop, leaning against the metal railing, his head bowed.

“Hey,” you said softly.

He didn’t look at you, but he didn’t tell you to leave either.

After a long pause, he spoke. “They work so hard,” he said, voice rough. “I just… I don’t want them to get hurt.”

Your heart ached. This was the Minho no one saw—the one who loved fiercely and protected his members at all costs. You stepped closer, your hands gripping the cold railing beside his.

“I know,” you whispered. “They know too.”

His head turned slightly, eyes meeting yours. You didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly, his hand was on your cheek, fingers warm against your skin.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured, voice so low you barely heard it.

“Right back at you,” you whispered.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It was raw and unspoken emotions spilling out all at once. His hand cupped your face as you gripped his hoodie, pulling him closer, like you’d both been waiting for this moment for too long.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

"Don’t think this means you’ve won,” he said, grinning.

You laughed, eyes still closed. “I think we both did.”

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

ᯓ★ Send an ask or leave a comment if there's any fics or tropes you could recommend for me to write!

ᯓ★ Reblogs appreciated!

ᯓ★ taglist:

[somedayillbepeterpan]

Finally, I am able to continue this series.

I started doing The Butterfly Ball analysis as a way to get it out of my head because it had burrowed deep inside my brain that it was rotting my thoughts (which still hasn't stopped).

To understand my ramblings fully, you can go to the other parts here:

Start here | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Here we go for: PART 5: BLOCKING AND WHERE COLIN WAS WHILE PEN WAS REVEALING HERSELF AS LW

I've decided to chop this part into smaller pieces too because when I started part 5, the whole thing was way too long for my attention span. I really am so sorry about the deluge of thoughts that I have for this scene. I'm half tempted to copy Sammy Bates and create videos but I do not have the same talent that she has. So, you're stuck with me and my barrage of written thoughts.

Anyway, Part 5.1 - The stage layout

We've talked about the shape of the venue. We've talked about the aesthetics of the event. We've talked about clothes. And we've talked about music and dances.

Now, let's get to the nitty-gritty of things. Let's talk about the blocking of the whole scene. To start it off, we have to understand the layout of stage.

Just for context, at one point in my life, I studied cinematography and I love movies so I get keyed up with blocking and camera angle choices.

To give importance to how important this scene is, sweeping/panning shots that is 360 degrees in motion with about 150, maybe 200 people, in one room is a nightmare in logistics. Every shot has to matter and every shot has to be reviewed and set up precisely. Most of the ball scenes takes 1 week to shoot because of how technical it is. There is an interview of Tom Verica talking about plotting the whole scene (I think it was the Vanity Fair one).

The particular weight of this ball is shown in how it's set-up like a centre stage. Even the lighting and the floor design draws your attention inward. Out of the three seasons' Ep 8 balls, this is the only one elevated and without anything disrupting the centre.

I've drafted a diagram to fully understand how the whole stage looks like.

**you guys are allowed to call me crazy after this post.

There are 4 major sides that I will call anchor points as we go around this layout.

Entrance (in between the two bug cages)

Side entrance 1

Side entrance 2

Ostrich feathers

One particular stand out for me are the pillars around the stage. The pillars hides and distinctly divides each of the 4 anchor points. While this might go past a regular viewers' head, someone looking for it (or a crazy person like me) will understand the significance of each anchor point. It helps easily assign people on each side and and use blocking (+ camera shots) as a great storytelling device.

These 4 anchor points become very important when Pen goes on stage.

Because every single one of it stands an important woman in Pen's life.

(going clockwise from the entrance) Anchor point 1: Prudence by the entrance

Anchor point 2: Portia by side entrance 1

Anchor point 3: Philippa (+ Albion) by the Ostrich feathers

and Eloise (next to Fran, Alice Mondrich, and Lady Danbury) right by Anchor point 4: Side entrance 2

I just loved that every time Pen turned around, there was someone for her to look at and ground herself. Because what she did, being vulnerable and exposing that part of herself she has kept hidden for a very long time, couldn't have been easy.

(We will get to Colin after the next post if you're wondering where he is in all of this).

I understand that some people were disappointed in how the LW reveal/fallout was portrayed but just for a while, let me help you appreciate that in Pen's most vulnerable moment, these women had equal parts surprise and awe on their faces as they watch their sister/daughter/best friend own up to her mistakes and face the Queen herself. And while we didn't get much out of them in the aftermath in terms of communication, it was still wonderful to know that in the end, all these women become/is important for Pen to fully embrace who she is.

I'm hoping to put all of these out every 1-2 days so I can finally move on to writing other things.

Next up: Part 5.2 The Queen and the bugs

[season-77]

A new, very interesting review has popped up on Facebook—secrets of accent and underwear revealed!

"As promised, this is my review of last nights performance of Here in America. The Orange Tree has a real community theatre vibe which I prefer to the West End. It also gives the actors that "getting back to basics" feel where there is nowhere to hide from a bad performance.

I had read the play before seeing it, and was really interested in how it would be portrayed with such a minimal set. The two benches and some leaves were used so effectively, I was really impressed. No stage hands to assist, just the cast using props and a raised platform in the centre of the room.

As an ex actor myself, I will try to be as general as I can as otherwise I will be writing a book here! The first thing that struck me was just how close I was to the actors. I was in the front row, and found I couldnt even cross my legs without causing an obstruction. However, this meant that I could see every slight glance, a frown or smirk which really suits Shaun's style of gesture. I call it small acting.

Shaun is tiny! I have never really noticed this before, but when he is there less than metre away, I really became aware of it and this added to the vulnerability of Gadg. He really does play a tortured soul very well. A few times I caught him catching the audiences eye almost pleading with them to see his point of view, and this technique worked well. However, there was an accent slip a number of times, and I even detected a tiny bit of Scouse in one instant! There was also a feeling that he needed to relax into the scene, but that probably comes from him not working within this genre as often as TV.

Faye Castelow gave a good performance as the opinionated and uptight Day. She presented a character as wound tight as a drum, and I was expecting an angry outburst at any minute.

I was disappointed in Miss Bauer, the nickname used for Marilyn Monroe, played by Jasmine Blackborow. If you are going to present such an iconic character, you need to get the basics beyond the physicality right. There was none of the childlike vulnerability used as seduction or even the intelligence of Monroe. I know the character was used mostly as a narrator, but although it was a great idea, I'm not sure it worked.

Michael Aloni as Arthur Miller was the stand out performance. There was a strength and determination of Art that Aloni really delivered. His transformation was great too. Having watched many interviews of Miller over the years (I've been obsessed with Monroe since I was a small child) he really nailed the steely take no shit of the man.

Overall, I was enthralled throughout the play, and the 80mins seemed to fly by. At times, I laughed and other times I felt quite emotional about the position Gadg was put in, and it does leave you asking yourself "what would I do?" in that situation.

Back to our favourite man. Shaun is incredibly handsome in the flesh and has beautiful skin up close. However, he is alot shorter than I thought and appears quite delicate, although I know looks are deceiving! Definitely wears briefs not boxers (for those who may be wondering). I actually got a smile off of him which nearly took my breath away. I feel incredibly lucky to have seen him work up close, and hope for him to do more theatre as you could see he was quite buzzed to get a roaring round of applause."

[centrestagereviews]

Review: Disney’s Newsies @ Wembley Park Theatre

Review: Disney’s Newsies @ Wembley Park Theatre 🗞 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Newsies is running at the Wembley Park Theatre till April 2023 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ As the industrial revolution changed the face of America in the 1800’s, more and more children were forced to find work in order to support themselves and their families. Many of these children worked as newspaper boys and girls, otherwise known as “Newsies”. Following the resolution of the Spanish American War in late…

[louisupdates]

CLASHMUSIC / FEATURES / 19 · 02 · 2024

Deep Diving: The Snuts Interviewed

Scottish band on seizing independence, their new album, and touring with Louis Tomlinson...

[…]

As they get ready for the release of ‘Millennials’, their second studio album, songwriter, producer and frontman Jack Cochrane talks to Clash about doing things differently this time, creative freedom and health, Louis Tomlinson and how he wants to see changes for young bands and artists in Scotland.

Talking of being on stage. How close did you get close to Louis Tomlinson?

We’ve done a support tour with Louis Tomlinson, we loved this opportunity. It really gave us a chance to get in front of people we wouldn’t necessarily be in front of in a live environment. It’s a different type of fan, our music translated well towards that. We’ve done tours with him over the past couple of years, we know him well.

He comes up to Glasgow for his shows, and we’ll go and watch football. He’s a good guy. Quite private. It’s funny because he been in the pop world, but deep down his roots are in indie guitar music, that’s what he is making. He’s fun guy to be around, and for us it’s great to see how others do things.

What did you take away after sharing stage and spending time with Tomlinson?

There’s been a confidence shift in terms of being onstage that we picked up on tour. The idea of taking control, sometimes I felt like we were always trying to part of the crowd and never wanted to be the centre of the attention. So being in control, having a stage presence, being able a walk on and be confident enough to do what you are meant to do up there. Definitely learned lots, we got so much better after those tours.

The Snuts mention touring with Louis Tomlinson, in their interview with Clash Magazine [19.2.2024]

[thecrownnetflixuk]

Fond Farewells Mark the End of an Era for The Crown.

Pt 2 of Season 6 Accedes to the Next Generation – But Reigns Most Triumphant Saluting Its Sovereign.

Review & gifs by L.L @The Crown TV

I wasn't sure what to expect from the final 6 preview episodes of The Crown. Part 1 gifted us with a season-defining performance from Elizabeth Debicki, but such intense focus on the tragedy of Diana and Dodi's deaths was heavy-going. How to move forward?

Not many TV shows stick the landing, but I believe The Crown does, mostly by putting Queen Elizabeth front and centre. In four different ways! But Part 2 takes a while to forge ahead and reign triumphant.

Ed McVey and Meg Bellamy make shy William and swotty Kate believable as a young couple who meet at university – or earlier, as per a flashback with (not Ghost!) Diana. I still found it hard to invest in their will-they-won't-they relationship (we already know they do.) 

Instead, it’s sisters Elizabeth and Margaret who have long been the emotional heart of this show; at every stage of their lives.

Former Oscar-nominee Lesley Manville (alongside Queen Imelda Staunton) is truly magnificent in Ep 8 as Princess Margaret, though it's painful watching this vibrant lady struggle as her health worsens.

Memories of the 1940's are a delight. However, I wish we'd seen more of wide-eyed teen Lilibet let loose (Viola Prettejohn) and carefree Marg (Beau Gadsdon) before older Margaret says her final goodbye.

Staunton saves her best for last, bringing dry humour, vulnerability as well as leadership to Ep 10. The 70+ min epic finale 'Sleep, Dearie Sleep' has its shaky moments, but beautifully completes Queen Elizabeth's story when it counts, bringing near-perfect closure. That alone elevates Season 6 beyond Season 5.

Warning - MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD. This is my final *EVER* review (might be extra long!)

S6 is NOW ON NETFLIX - WATCH THE EPISODES before reading.

Images: courtesy of Netflix

Starting with less good news; the first couple of episodes of Part 2 were my least favourite. Ep 5, 'Willsmania', feels transitional, and a little stuck in the past. Following his mother's death, Prince William (Ed McVey; taking over from younger actor Rufus Kampa) turns inward as he struggles to cope with public attention and grief.

It's an understandable reaction to losing a parent, but Part 1 already spent nearly half a season on Dodi and Diana. It felt like we grieved in real time. As a result, whenever the subject of Diana crops up again in Part 2, it tends to weigh down both pace and narrative.

Ep 6 brings a welcome change of topic. This being The Crown, I'm sure there are critics poised to be offended by Queen Elizabeth's nightmare about Prime Minister Tony Blair being crowned king, but to me, his 'coronation' was hilarious, as was the choir boy singing Blair's cheesy Labour pop anthem.

It felt like deliberate tongue-in-cheek humour, an absurd reminder why monarchy might still be better than populist elected leaders.

I really wanted this episode to work, but it didn't go anywhere, and themes like tradition-vs-modernity were covered more effectively in episodes such as 'Marionettes.' Bertie Carvel has Tony Blair's voice down but suffers from comparisons with Michael Sheen, who was uncanny as the Prime Minister in 3 earlier Peter Morgan projects.

^ PM Tony Blair. The Women's Institute weren't fans of his grandstanding.

The Crown: The Next Generation fully arrives during Ep's 7, 9 & 10. Some will love it. Those who prefer more historical episodes with broader scope may be disappointed, as the show follows William and Kate through University life in the early 2000's.

The newcomers do bring fresh energy to the show. It helps that they cast Ed McVey and Meg Bellamy, who make a sweet couple as Will and Kate, even if William sometimes comes across as petulant.

Unlike Ed McVey as William, Luther Ford doesn't bear much physical resemblance to Prince Harry, other than red hair. Ford does however put in a good performance as Harry becomes increasingly reckless.

The Crown doesn't hide either Harry or William's bad behaviour. The brothers seem to get on well at the start, but it later seems like they're more at odds. Underneath a lot – a LOT – of boozing, both boys appear quietly screwed-up over their mother's death. Neither of them seem to enjoy playing happy families with Charles, either.

The show mostly concentrates on William and Kate, but there aren't many episodes left to develop a genuine romance. They have potential, but it feels fairly surface level. Suddenly, they rush to move into a house share together when we've barely seen them kiss. They (and we) needed more screen time to really get to know each other.

There's a bigger issue here with Kate's mother, Carole Middleton (Eve Best.) Pushy parent Carole is keen to play matchmaker between her 'commoner' daughter and the young eligible Prince, keeping tabs on William. Carole isn't as conniving, but ... didn't we just watch a similar storyline with Mohamed Al-Fayed/Dodi/Diana in Part 1?

^ Kate 'n' Will. Her Mum would frame this picture.

Ep 8 'Ritz' plays like a standalone film. Margaret's final story is touching, but upsetting, at times; I was a fan of Diana, yet sobbed as much for Margaret as the credits rolled, even though her eventual death isn't shown. In fact, her final goodbye is sensitively done and stands as a fitting tribute to the princess, as well as to the Queen.

Lesley Manville makes Margaret's predicament so real as her health slowly breaks down. She bounces back from one stroke, then another hits. How awful too for Elizabeth to watch a much-loved sister deteriorate, though it was wonderful to see Lilibet read Margaret a bedtime story. It brought out the warmer side of Staunton's Queen.

The scene where Margaret scalds her feet in the bath is genuinely horrifying. I've suffered from ill health and loss of control myself and this was so much worse. I could feel her pain. That poor woman.

Human moments are where The Crown excels; through this episode, this working-class lass from a council house could somehow relate to a Princess in a palace. Peter Morgan has surely done more to humanise the royal family than any P.R team ever could.

^ Fans of Margaret (and Lesley Manville) prepare yourselves for her sad final journey.

Onto the big reveal: when I mentioned at the start there are FOUR ways Queen Elizabeth appears – this is what I meant:-

^ Newcomer Viola Prettejohn plays teenage Princess Elizabeth.

^ & there's Olivia Colman & Claire Foy alongside older Queen Imelda Staunton.

Satisfyingly, all 3 of The Crown's leading ladies return to close the show. Olivia Colman and Claire Foy each have an additional scene, too (I won't spoil the entire finale, as it covers a lot of ground in over 70 mins, but Olivia and Claire aren't back as 'ghosts.')

As we get older, the ghosts who speak loudest are our own; the former versions of us we berate ourselves with. Not everyone may warm to the Queen (sort of) talking to herself, but personally, I was thrilled to see these talented actors on screen together.

Foy's scene with Staunton is particularly effective, as the younger Queen gives her older self an old-fashioned dutiful talking to. It's somehow also credible that they're aspects of the same person.

It reminded me of Peter Morgan’s 2013 (extraordinary) play, ‘The Audience', which inspired this series, and included scenes where Helen Mirren shared the stage with young Elizabeth. That play is also why this theatre-fan started watching The Crown to begin with, and later went on to create this website.

When Ep 10 finished playing, my Netflix returned itself to Season 1. 60 episodes over 7 years! I will miss the grand scale of The Crown, but appreciate the legacy which remains. Now feels like the right time for this story to end. A full-circle moment in more ways than one.

**Majestic thanks for reading, and to every person who has liked, reblogged, messaged, supported The Crown TV for all these years.

💎♕You each deserve a Crown of your own!♕💎**

N.B: These are my humble opinions at this point in time. No offence is intended. Agreement = lovely; not compulsory. Disagreement = happens; kindly coexist. Ta!

[submalevolentgrace]

"Like many First Nations people, the significance of this time of year holds centre stage in my mind. It’s living rent free and eating all of my food.

It’s that time of year when Indigenous people get a harsh reality check on how deep the casual racism and microaggressions can go. It’s also the main time of year when the phrase “I’m not racist but …” gets used like a welcome greeting. We discover this ugly truth in those we consider friends or family; often in people we look up to.

Ever walked into a crowded room and felt out of place, alone and vulnerable? Now, imagine that everyone in that room suddenly stops and stares directly at you. Watching and judging your every move. That is what the lead up to 26 January feels like for me. Having at least one person who recognises the inequalities can be the difference between violence (in all its forms), and safety.

Every year, I have to take the time to do an internal review on where I am emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually and politically in order to ascertain how I’m going to approach 26 January while considering my safety and mental health.

I have been that person who responds to every racist social media post or comment I come across. It’s exhausting and distressing.

I have remained silent and tried to pretend that this date doesn’t exist. It’s lonely and disempowering.

I have attempted diplomacy and handed out the “agree to disagree” phrase like lollipops and was still actively sought out and covered in racist verbal vomit.

While you might be out there getting ready for your barbecues, back yard cricket and goon of fortune, so many of us are riding an emotional rollercoaster of pain, anguish and frustration, while trying to reconcile our love for our white friends and family. You have the privilege of ignorance and indifference. We have the burden of existing in a space where we are told that we are not wanted, valued or respected. We have to actively choose how to navigate this war zone every single year."

(keep reading)

[endiness]

a review of a play joey was in called "the cure" (he played dylan, btw):

"Jude and Dylan have been friends since school. Now at university their relationship is closer than ever, except Jude is a lesbian and everyone thinks Dylan is gay. Working on an upcoming piece of performance art, they are constantly interrupted by the disturbingly violent Jo and Dylan's well-meaning estranged father. The intensity of Sibthorpe and Batey's performances gives the play a vitality and raw energy, pulling the audience along at a rapid pace. Sibthorpe is exhausting to watch; the character of Jude is manic, passionate, uninhibited, and she dominates the stage, at times tenderly pleading, at others laughing brashly as she stands pantless over her friend's face. Sometimes this intensity can become a little too much, and the audience longs for the tone to change a little. Moments of relief come in the rare scenes when Dylan is alone. Batey is the perfect match for Sibthorpe's restlessness: calm, reserved, he is the solid centre to the piece. As both characters battle their insecurities and pretensions, we are drawn in and long for resolution. Jo is the implacable strange flatmate that everyone knows. Reminiscent of Brian from Spaced, only less endearing, Hanes gives him an unsettling intensity that prevents him from being just a peripheral character. He provides a pivotal insight into Dylan's character when he asks "do you actually like me?" — we are swung from irritation at his character to a recognition of Dylan's patheticness and unintentional cruelty in hanging out with someone he doesn't actually like. George Pott's father is another excellently observed piece of characterisation, inciting both pity and irritation from the audience. The show is tight, but can sometimes veer into the over written: too clever for its own good. Existentialism in the form of a revolutionary speech by Camus is interesting, but feels close to cliched teenage angst, or a revolutionary spirit that is not quite of this century. That said, the final scene using the speech is a powerful insight into Dylan and Jude's relationship and leaves the audience wanting more."