#I'm not even american but if a company tries doing this kind of thing (hoping they will get away with taking people's rights)

[toamonster]

Hey American Roblox community, have you seen the new updated Terms Of Use for roblox? Because I took a quick peek and uh:

That doesn't look good. I don't know if this was part of the terms from before the 6th of november, but in case it wasn't and/or you weren't aware of this part of the terms of use, now you know.

Be safe

[slashbitch2]

The Proposal AU! (part two)

Summary: when your boss Agatha faces the threat of deportation, she convinces you to marry her in return for a promotion- and things only get more complicated with a trip to Salem, an eccentric tarot-card-reading aunt, and a homophobic mother to convince.

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

TW: deportation (which I admit I know very little about I'm not American lol) suggestive themes, sort of arranged marriage

W.C: roughly 1.3k words

PARTS: ONE, THREE

“There’s no way this is going to work.” You said, bouncing your leg underneath the table, finding it the only outlet for the sickening anxiety weighing down upon you.

To your left, Agatha was scrolling on her phone, nonchalant and entirely unaffected by your panic.

Realising you weren’t going to get a response; you allowed your gaze to travel across the room. It was barren, impersonal and imposing. The chair opposite was currently empty as you waited for someone to arrive. Who, you weren’t quite sure. You really didn’t understand anything about this entire process, and you silently prayed that Agatha did.

Agatha, who was infuriatingly casual about the whole thing. It wouldn’t surprise you if she didn’t understand the process, if she was just winging it- if she had dragged you into all this just to torture you. In an attempt to pass the time, you tried racking your brains for something you might’ve done wrong recently. A coffee order you had messed up, a report you had forgotten to submit, a mistake you might’ve made with her calendar. Yet, nothing came to mind.

Out of the corner of your eye, you looked Agatha up and down. Her coat was neatly folded over the back of the chair that she was slumped in, rather ungracefully you noted. She was wearing a purple jumper with a broach pinned to the collar, one you had never seen her without. You had always longed to ask her whether there was some meaning behind it, but knew better than to expect a genuine answer.

You glanced up at her face, framed by strands of dark brown hair falling from a messy bun, and watched as she chewed on her lip. Now this was a habit you hadn’t noticed before.

“Are you nervous?” You interrogated after spending a second longer staring at her lips than was socially acceptable.

“Why would I be? She murmured, not bothering to look up from her phone. “I have my gorgeous fiancé here with me.”

You sighed, willing her to show one ounce of normal human emotion and opening your mouth to refute.

“Well, isn’t that just lovely to hear.”

Both you and Agatha jumped in your seats at the sound of a foreign voice.

The man rounded the desk, dressed in a perfectly tailored, colourless suit. He had neatly combed grey hair and an impassive expression. “Lovely to meet you both.” He said, routinely taking his seat opposite. “I’m Tyler Hayward and I’ll be handling your case Miss…” the man’s eyes travelled across the file already opened on his desk. “Miss Harkness.” He finished, smiling up at you both coldly.

“Pleasures all mine.” Agatha smirked, tucking her phone away to pay the man full attention.

Finding your mouth suddenly dry, you nodded with a grimace that you hoped came across more like a smile.

“So, I have one question.” Hayward clasped his hands together, eyes darting between you both before landing specifically on you. He licked his lips, prolonging the tense silence, then finally, “Are you committing fraud to avoid her deportation so that she may keep her position at the company you work at?”

Right then and there, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating.

“That’s insane!” Agatha exclaimed, faking outrage as she slammed her palm down onto the desk- ever one for the dramatics. “The audacity to even suggest such a thing!”

You looked over at Hayward, seeing the glint in his otherwise frigid composure. You knew this was the kind of reaction he had hoped for, fake or not, and while this kind of intimidation tactic worked for Agatha with incompetent employees, it wouldn’t work on this occasion. She was doing herself no favours in trying to sell this sham marriage, and any remaining hope you held that she had a plan immediately went out the window.

“How dare you, we’re in love!” Agatha continued. “And I do not appreciate those kinds of insinuations that-“

“Hey, hold on now, love.” You intervened, ignoring how unnatural it felt to be referring to your boss in such a way. “He’s just doing his job.” Swallowing back your discomfort, you reached over to place a soothing hand on Agatha’s thigh, trying to ignore the way her skin radiated warmth through the layer of fabric. “But no, Mr Hayward, there is nothing fraudulent about the way I feel for Agatha. Unconventional, maybe. But definitely real.” You said through gritted teeth, attempting to force as much affection into your gaze as you could.

Which was especially hard with the way Agatha was staring back at you: a mixture of impressed, confused, and suggestive…

“My apologies.” Agatha said, placing her hand over yours. “I just get upset when people make assumptions about my personal life.”

“I understand that.” Hayward nodded, pulling your attention away from Agatha and back to him. “And you’re right it is unconventional for a relationship between an employer and employee. How, might I ask, does the company feel about this? I’m surprised they would allow such a relationship.” He inquired, though his curiosity wasn’t genuine. He knew that it wouldn’t be permitted, that this was a glaring flaw in your non-existent plan.

“The truth is…” You began, swallowed hard and thought desperately about how to respond. “Agatha and I… we’re just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love… but did.” You shrugged, pretending as though you were reliving such great hardships. “And we couldn’t tell anyone we work with... As you pointed out, it would be deeply inappropriate.”

You smiled sadly, praying that Agatha would jump in so you wouldn’t have to monologue any longer. Each word you worried over, just waiting for you to slip up and have Hayward jump in and arrest you for fraud. You could practically feel the handcuffs around your wrists now, the cold metal tight against your skin, cutting into your flesh, constricting your movement. You felt your heart start to pound, your palms start to sweat.

Agatha must’ve felt you tensing up, as suddenly, you felt her thumb begin to trace soothing patterns against the top of your hand. Round and round. Real and yet ever so gentle. The soft contact drew you back into the moment, back to her.

Back to Hayward…

“So, no co-workers will be able to vouch for you.” He looked down at his file, grabbed a pen and scribbled something down. “What about family? Have the two of you told your parents about this forbidden love?”  He questioned, narrow-eyed and mocking.

“Oh, I…” You grit your teeth together, sucking in a lungful of air as you pondered how this would look. “My parents are out of the country right now.”

“Of course they are.” Hayward chuckled maliciously, jotting more down on his form.

“Well, my mother is actually on a road trip through the country with some… other relatives.” Agatha chimed in, regaining Hayward’s attention. “In fact, we were planning on joining up with them in Salem this weekend to share the wonderful news.”

“We were?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

“Oh yeah, how could you forget, sweetheart?” She fake-reprimanded. “It’s Aunt Lilia’s big sixtieth birthday road trip, the whole family’s coming together to surprise her.”

“Right…” You nodded along, though you couldn’t rid yourself of the frown adorning your face. You recognised what Agatha was doing. She was overcompensating, but she was only going to complicate this arrangement even further.

“How lovely.” Hayward drawled. “I suppose you’ll both be travelling up tomorrow then?”

“That we will.” Agatha gulped, your eyes tracing the movement of her throat.

You turned back to Hayward and met his evident annoyance with a smile, one more genuine. You didn’t like the man. You wanted to prove him wrong...

“I for one can’t wait!”

NEXT PART

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I’m not sure if you’re following the vcha lawsuit but I was wondering if you had any thoughts about how this will affect kpop global groups moving forward. Vcha seems to be going the route of total destruction (possibly saddling the other girls with a bunch of debt they have no hope of paying off now that the other member’s lawsuit went public? not the member’s fault, but concerning all the same) while katseye seems to be doing well. (Not sure, and I actually doubt, that they have the same contract provisions). All in all, though, this seemed like a very obvious breach of California labor law and im kind of baffled about how jype found themselves here

***

"All in all, though, this seemed like a very obvious breach of California labor law and im kind of baffled about how jype found themselves here"

The only thing that comes to mind is that perhaps JYPE's partnership with Republic Records (initially to develop A2K and later VCHA) didn't extend to artist management. And that JYPE thought they could replicate the abusive management practices typical in Korea, in America, with zero push-back. I'm assuming HYBE USA's management of Katseye includes more American staff who, while not angels by any stretch (see Scooter Braun & co) can somewhat temper the more extremely abusive impulses of the Korean team, leading to less friction for now.

That aside, JYPE doesn't appear to be doing things any differently compared to other k-pop agencies. Nothing described in those lawsuits is new - every complaint is something we've seen before from k-pop idols who have tried to take these agencies to court. Given how closely JYP and Bang Sihyuk have aligned themselves, I highly doubt JYPE's business practices are all that different from HYBE's in Korea.

K-pop agencies are exploitative and abusive by default, and that default usually doesn't improve unless the CEO or someone with significant control has a vested or personal interest in the wellbeing of the idols, or unless a significant showing of fans vocally come out in support of the idols after said idols allege abuse. The only reason Katseye still seems okay is, I suspect, the same reason most idol groups still seem alright, which is that they deem what they are getting from the company to be worth more than the bullshit they're putting up with.

It's a basic equation every worker knows, though factors like cultural expectations (as in this case) could impact the worker's tolerance of said bullshit.

"...but I was wondering if you had any thoughts about how this will affect kpop global groups moving forward"

Again, I doubt this case will dramatically affect the actions of Korean entertainment agencies towards 'global' groups going forward besides forcing even stricter NDAs, even tighter control, and more exploitative structures.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

083 of 2024

Created by chasingghosts

Are you going to be busy tomorrow?

I hope so. Still some packing, and I hope to go to France for shopping.

What was the last topic you read about on Wikipedia?

Lada cars. Like, these ones from Russia.

Have you ever donated money to Wikipedia?

No, I haven't. Honestly, not planning to do either.

Is your country part of the Commonwealth?

No, it's not. From Europe, only 3 countries are and mine is not one of them.

Around what time of the year do you start your Christmas shopping?

November? Anything earlier feels too early.

Do you have blinds or curtains on your windows?

Blinds on most of them. We only have curtains on windows that come to the backyard, and our kitchen window + bathroom window has nothing at all.

What are the most common birds you'd see around your home?

House sparrows, house martins, seagulls, pigeons.

Did you sleep well last night?

Yeah. But there was a lot of work today so I'm tired now, I'm gonna go to bed when I finish this.

Did you live within walking distance of school when you were a kid?

Theoretically yes, but I also had one tram stop.

What board games did you play when you were growing up?

I was playing outside with friends, not playing board games.

Do you know any sign language?

No, sadly. It would be convenient, though.

When was the last time you bought new clothes? What did you get?

Last year I think, a hoodie.

What, other than books, do you have on your bookshelves?

Fake plants (so my cat doesn't get poisoned when she tries to eat them), photo frames, some sea-themed decorations, perfume bottles.

Do you ever watch streamers on Twitch?

No, I don't.

How close are your nearest neighbours?

We share walls.

Has your house ever been broken into? How did you find out?

No, thankfully not.

What do you usually eat for breakfast?

A yogurt or cereal with milk.

What's the first thing your hand touches if you reach to the left?

The couch or the blanket, depends how far.

Describe your favourite mug or cup.

It's white and has a logo of our company on it. Another one is green, another is black and another is transparent.

If you could teleport to any country right now for a holiday, what would it be?

Poland, but I'm going next week anyway.

Are you overwhelmed right now?

Yeah, kind of. But only two working days to summer break, so I'm gonna leave work troubles at work.

Did you share a bedroom with someone when you were growing up?

No, my sister had her own room.

Have you ever had anything dry cleaned?

I haven't, but my husband had, one of the things he was selling.

How many group chats are you in? Do you participate in them much?

I'm not in any, but I'm a member of a few forums.

What's the best concert you ever went to?

I don't really go to concerts, but I'm gonna say Shuriken II. Guys are really good.

Do you like to watch subtitled movies?

I don't like to watch movies.

Are you still in touch with any of your exes?

Yes, with Nielsje. We're still close friends.

How old were you when the first American Pie movie came out?

I don't even know when it came out.

Do you know how to change the oil in a car? What about a flat tyre?

Yes and yes.

What do you do for work?

I build trains. Like, for real.

[scumlafeccia]

Coming from someone who was truscum in the 2010's, I think you being gendercrit and also chest dysphoric is a sign of some major cognitive dissonance and self-hatred that you really should talk over with someone outside of this hellsite. Doesn't necessarily mean you're trans—how you label yourself is entirely up to you—but you clearly have a complicated relationship with gender that will not be improved here.

That being said, I've been binding for years and can say with confidence that binders are very much a personal preference thing, so your mileage may vary with these suggestions:

Underworks: My absolute go-to for years. Their tri-top binders are my tried-and-tested favorite, but I also own a compression T-shirt from them that also binds pretty well, and I've heard good things about their econo binders as well. Sizes also go up to 3X, which is nice. The fabric can take some getting used to, being about three degrees of separation from trampoline material, but the arm holes being on the wider side makes up for that in my book.

Phluid: Honestly not sure if they even sell these anymore. I found mine in the back of a Spencer's, and I haven't found it online at all beyond a few websites talking about Phluid partnering with Spencer's to sell binders. That being said, the binder I picked up from them is surprisingly comfortable and binds incredibly well, so they're worth a shot if you do find one. Be wary though: they absolutely go by Hot Topic sizing. The sizes go up to 2XL and they run small. I'm a large in Underworks sizing, but an XL in Phluid sizing.

gc2b: More of an anti-suggestion. I never really liked their binders, and I've heard they've been using lower-quality materials in recent years. For me personally, the arm holes always felt too small for my comfort, and the fabric on the tanks had a habit of bunching up throughout the day (though this was about eight odd years ago so who knows). That said, they're the most fat friendly option that I'm familiar with, running up to 5XL, and have a wider variety of colors and prints. You'd probably be able to wear some of their tank binders out in public and just have people assume you were wearing a normal tank top. They might work out better for you depending on your preferences and circumstances.

In terms of general advice and suggestions: pick up a fabric tape measure if you don't have one already and take your chest measurements. If you wear bras already (like, ones with cup sizes) you might be able to guesstimate your chest size, but it's better to have more precise measurements for binders. Always, always check the size charts of any binder company you shop from to be sure you're buying the right size and, when in doubt, pick the larger size rather than the smaller one.

If the binder fastens with a zipper or clasp system, avoid it. Best case scenario, you're just getting a very low quality product. Worst case scenario, the pressure is being distributed very unevenly due to a flawed design that prioritizes profit over safety and you could bust a rib. No matter what binder you end up getting, don't do any strenuous exercise in it, try to stick to around eight hours of usage per day maximum, and hand wash those suckers (or at the very least use the delicate and cold water settings on your machine washer) to prolong the effectiveness of the compression material.

I hope this helps. Best of luck out there.

anon, you misunderstood. I have kind of figured out why I am dysphoric, and it's got nothing to do with being trans, even from a truscum point of view. I'm not looking to figure out my "relationship with gender" on tumblr, but I know that there's other women on here who are dysphoric and don't plan to transition, and I dont think it's bad to confront experiences. as for the binder suggestions, I've been keeping updated on tips on how to buy one since I was 14, and I'm not american so I'd need to look elsewhere anyway. thanks for the thought tho, that's appreciated

[busyralph]

Dearest Ralphie Boy,

To be honest.... I'm starting to think I do might know him! So now I'm wondering if he recognizes my name, let me know! Of course, California is a big state, not as big as Texas which I'm told, if you want good barbecue... That's the place to go. It is a shame about the passport deal... I hope you all get it sorted because I'd think you'd have a marvelous time here! If only for the food. California is the place for Mexican food as well, how are you with spice? I ask that, but I'm actually kinda horrible at it. My dad definitely has a higher tolerance for it, so whenever he claims something is spicy.... I don't believe him. I just don't.

Ahhh. Podcasts. Some of those are good! It's sort of like... Did you have those radio shows back home? It's kind of like that, it really depends, but basically audio shows or plays that one puts on the internet, could have a theme, sometimes interviews with celebrities and the like, or just discussion. But be wary if it's just a group of men that have a microphone but overall shouldn't. Do not listen. They have nothing noteworthy to say.

Haha, yes, you can let him just read what I wrote. I wouldn't want him to take it out on the messenger. Yve from California says it's GIF and will figuratively die on this hill, Scott! I said what I said.

There's nothing wrong with that! Life is too busy and sometimes too draining that a quick and easy meal is just what we need, you know? I like that kind of mac and cheese myself, my go to lazy meal.... Sometimes just a bowl of cereal. Or lately, I've rediscovered my love of hot dogs. Terribly American, I know. But, a beef hot dog on a skillet with some melted butter, grilled and then in a bun with your choice of toppings? It hits the spot. Especially if I cut up a potato and fry it with some oil on a skillet. Potatoes are a big thing for me, I love them. Mashed, baked, fried, roasted, I'll have it. Salted butter and a sprinkle of sea salt, or if fried, with ketchup. Again. Very American.

You really should try some barbecue. My go to would be the chicken, beef ribs ( sometimes pork, but, I'm a beef gal ) and either a tri tip or, there's one restaurant that does brisket burnt ends and it sounds weird but it's the most tender meat you'll ever taste.

God, we're quite wordy, aren't we? And usually over food. But since we're talking about food, what's your favorite dessert? Might as well.

Warmest Regards, Yve

Dearest Yve,

I hope it is not too forward to echo your sentiments back to you!

I am rather wary of spiced foods, admittedly. Especially after my friends gave me a meal that I later learned, when I looked at the menu for myself, that it had four peppers next to it, would you believe! I should have known something was afoot when they all had their phone cameras out. Rest assured, I shall seek my revenge! And I have learned to never let other people order for me.

Oh, a radio show! That could be fun. Victoria always said I had a face for radio, but that makes no sense at all, you can't see the faces of radio hos- Oh. I think I understand what she was trying to say, now.

I am writing these instructions down to try a true American hot dog! And ah, yes. The potato. So versatile, so universally loved, and yet so humble. One can only aspire to be at one with such a wondrous foodstuff.

I do tend to ramble quite a bit, especially when I am in especially pleasant company or I am talking about something I enjoy. And here I am, experiencing both! Normally this is the part where I would apologise for being "too much", as my... *ahem*, darling sister would describe me. And yet, you speak as freely as I do! How marvellous. To answer you, I've always had an especially sweet tooth. Mother never allowed me to have my favourite chocolate cake as a child, but now that I am a wage-earning adult, I can buy all the cake I want! It doesn't even need to be my birthday! This is truly living.

Warmest regards,

Ralph

[finallydelight]

I am the anon who asked about jk live I mean with bam while he was eating chicken

She’s So Fine | Maya Chapter

author's note: I know it doesn't really have anything to do with the live, but it's kinda inspired by it, so I hope you like it anyway ! let me know what you think of it and thank you so much for the request !

January 29, 2023

''Hey! Don't touch me, I have a girlfriend.'' Jeongguk drunkenly protested, prying the unwanted arms from his body. ''Stop, please!''

''Are you serious right now?''

''Stop! That's not cool, I have a girlfriend!'' He tried moving away from the displeasing touches, the woman in front of him not seeming to get the hint that he wasn't that kind of a guy.

Jeongguk's vision must have experienced some huge errors after those countless refills of his beer, because he had no reason to shy away from the person who found him lying on his couch.

Jieun had made her way to Jeongguk's apartment after spending almost an entire day at the company. The endless recording and practicing had taken almost all the energy from her body, the only small amount that was left was reserved for the man who had been bugging her for the last hours to come back home.

Ever since Jin had been enlisted into the military, her boyfriend hadn't been too keen on really doing anything that consisted of going outside. She was happy that he was resting so well, but the man hadn't seen sunlight for almost a week now. His days were spent watching Netflix, ordering food and taking care of Bam.

So as she walked into his apartment, she expected to find the same image that she had seen all week; Jeongguk eating in front of the tv with Bam. However this day, it was quite a different sight.

Bam greeted her at the door, nothing out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary, was the lack of noise from her boyfriend. She could hear something playing on the tv, but nothing from Jeongguk's side.

Upon walking into the living room, she was met with a disoriented man mumbling inaudible things to himself, while he laid face down on the couch. The empty soju bottles and half-full beer glass indicated the singer had had a fun time on his own.

Jieun tried getting him up and into his bed, but that's when the man started opposing and tried pushing her arms away. He didn't recognize her.

She might as well have fun with this.

''A girlfriend, huh? Tell me about her.''

Jeongguk let out an unexpected snort. ''Why do you want to know about her?'' Before Jieun could even reply, he continued. ''She's- she's so fine.'' He smirked to himself.

''I don't know how to begin, she's just- ugh, so perfect. She has everything you could want in a person, you know? When I first saw her, we were like 18, I was like damn,'' that last thing made both of them laugh, a sudden American accent coming out, ''she smiled at me, well at us, my hyungs were there too. I don't know what she thought of me, to be honest. I thought she was beautiful, she was hot- she was so hot. She- she had this leather jacket on, her hair was down and she still had to get her make-up done. I watched her while she sat in the stylist's chair, I thought she looked like the most beautiful thing in the world.''

''I love her so much, I should tell her more that I do. That's why you can't touch me or kiss me, you know? I'm not a cheater, I don't do that. It would hurt her a lot and I don't want to do that. I would never do anything to hurt her, that- that would kill me.''

''Don't tell her I said this, but- I, uh, I think I'm gonna marry her someday. Well, I don't think, I know I'm gonna marry her. I would be an idiot not to.''

Jieun watched him in awe, speechless at the confession he just gave. She knew that Jeongguk loved her, that was an obvious given. However, she didn't know how much he actually loved her and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

His declaration of love must have sobered him up as he finally noticed her return. ''Ji- Jieunie? You're back, oh, I missed you so much.'' His arms quickly found their way around her and he left kisses all over her face.

''Yeah, you look like you had fun over here.'' She dramatically glanced at all the empty bottles on their coffee table.

He followed her eyes, grinning shamelessly. ''We did, didn't we Bam?'' The boy joined them on the couch upon hearing his name, safely putting himself in-between Jeongguk and Jieun.

''I'm gonna get you some water and aspirin, and afterwards you can clean all your mess up.'' She wanted to get up and head to the kitchen, but her boyfriend stopped her. ''No~,'' he whined, ''don't go, you just got here.''

Jieun got up anyway, pressing a short and sweet kiss against his lips. ''You know, the first time I ever saw you, I thought you looked really good in those jeans you were wearing.''

''Hell yeah, I did.''

Taglist: @stopeatread @sakuurra @seongwhaffels @cosmicwintr @smh-anon @cixrosie @allthings-fandoms @themalipirate

[seokwoosmole]

KAMP LA Day 1 Pros&Cons

This'll be a long one...

Cons (Let’s get those outta the way first)

-$50 parking?????

-Lines. For awhile there were like 6 of them cause no one knew where they were going or what they were supposed to do. I spent like half an hour w/ another fan just wandering around in different lines tryna find the right one until we did a full circle and went back to the line we were told to move from in the first place. Like why were there no signs whatsoever?? No workers stationed throughout the grounds to give instructions. Just eww.

-Maybe I was expecting too much from a company that couldn’t even get all of their booked artists to fly over but I was kinda hoping there’d be artist-specific merch or freebies. I would have even been happy with cheaply printed fake photocards :/

-P1Harmony & iKON should have had longer sets. I was a casual Piwon fan before KAMP but now I am srsly considering committing full-on. Their energy was soooo good, they have great live vocals & dancing, and every song they performed had me so hyped I totally would have wanted more. iKON. I practiced the Killing Me fanchant over and over only for them to not perform it?? I get opening with Sinosijak is basically tradition, Love Scenario is a must as the national anthem, Bling Bling was amazing, obviously gotta promote But You since it’s the newest, and I am a BDAY enthusiast but would I have preferred Killing Me, Freedom, or even Dragon? Absolutely. The set times were weird in general. T1419 was on stage for a very long time for a new group. I like them a lot but they performed like half of their discography. And Momoland seemed surprised that they were supposed to do another song. I don’t remember but I think it was Nancy that was like “oh we have another song?!” after they were ready to leave the stage. Then when iKON was on, they were tryna prolong their stage time by talking in between songs. Idk if SUJU got the amount of time they deserved but I really hope so since so many of their fans were there.

-That translator?? First of all, not 100% of my frustration goes to her since it seems like she’s not an actual translator but just a staff member of KAMP that was suddenly forced to be translator cause they probably didn’t have one. However, that still doesn't change the fact that she was...not the best. I don't speak Korean and I could still tell that she was not doing her job fully. There were moments when an artist would say like 5 sentences in Korean and the translator would be like "I'm so happy to be here, thank you". Like uhhhh I know for a fact that they said more than that and gave adequate pauses in between speaking to give room for the translator to talk. Also, asking T1419 who the best BTS impersonator is? What kind of question?? My memory is hazy, but I could have sworn there was a moment when the translator either dipped or just stopped talking, and T1419 were just trying to tough it through with their limited amount of English. I felt so bad for them, as this was their American debut and this is what they had to deal with. I noticed that besides Bobby, Jinhwan and from my memory, even Donghyuk a little bit, tried speaking more English, not relying on the translator too much as she wasn't translating everything they were saying, especially things in relation to the many mishaps going on. I also heard that one of the Super Junior members called out the translator for mistranslating what he said. I don't know if this was KAMP's weird attempt at censoring the artists' critiquing the organization, or if she just wasn't well-versed in translating – her grammar was off at times, making me wonder if she's just proficient in English and isn't actually fluent, which I am not blaming her for. But if that is the case, and the predominantly Korean-speaking artists can point out when there are flaws in the translation, then maybe KAMP should have actually had a professional translator prepared.

-I'm not elaborating on the obvious screwups of idk...half the artists not even being there and the lack of a sufficient apology and such cause idk what else I can say about that. I ended up requesting a refund for Day 2 because the artist I wanted to see most was MONSTA X, and even without them, T1419, MOMOLAND, and EPIK HIGH were up there, but I already saw T1419 and MOMOLAND on Day 1 so at that point, it just wasn't in my best interest financially to go. I think about how I at least got to see one of my ults, iKON, but a lot of people didn't even get that. I met someone in Koreatown who flew in from another state in the midwest JUST to see Kai. Like yeah, a refund is great (deserved tbh) but what about people's hotel expenses, gas costs, airfare, etc. Obviously KAMP isn't legally responsible for covering those, but on a moral front – all that money wasted because of a mistake KAMP made.

ANYWAY

Pros (Cause KAMP sucked but there people that showed up didn't)

-P1H's set was sooooooo good

-"When I say 'Kee', you say 'Ho'" and that bilingual joke. We love Keeho, bilingual king

-Oh yeah, P1H was great btw I may or may not be on my way to becoming a P1ece

-T1419 did amazing & congrats on their American debut! They seemed super nervous but for being so young they were great live performers. I'm definitely gonna keep supporting them.

-Also the collective 'ohhhhhh' from the crowd when they explained the meaning of their group name💀

-MOMOLAND has gained a new fan. Their type of music is usually not my cup of tea at all, but there's such an aesthetic appeal to the way they dance and their songs are so catchy I just loved every bit of their performance. Their stage presence is just AHH Exquisite. Also I could tell at parts they were being real sarcastic about the whole situation. The passive aggressive behavior was suuuuuper relatable and I adored it.

-iKON!!!!!!!!!! I can't even speak about it coherently yet. They were amazing. I love them. I loved them before. I love them even more now. Seeing them live is everything I imagined and more so. They didn't live up to the hype but exceeded it.

-Jinhwan shading the translator. Also him jumping as if to say "can y'all see me?" I love all 65 inches of him.

-Bobby live –– seeing one of my ult biases live –– he's (no pun intended but well deserved) iconic. Also he made us bark. I was too in awe to even process it but if my delayed processing hadn't kicked in I would have barked and chased my own ass in circles if he asked me to😩✋ Mrs. Bobby tell ur husband to leave his kinks at home

-Also Donghyuk bias-wrecked me harder than he ever has that night he was looking fine af🥵

-Met @aqua-bebe ☺️ See you at the next show <3

-There was a trio of dudes that sat in my area that were just the definition of the greatest fans on the planet. They cheered so loud waving their EXO lightstick like a lasso and dancing and singing for EVERY. SINGLE. ARTIST. What class-A supporters. When Keeho said "When I say Kee, you say Ho," they said HO with their whole chest. When MOMOLAND was on, one of them screamed "I LOVE YOU NANCY" louder than I thought was humanely possible. When iKON left the stage before their encore, they started the iKON chant in my section for them to come back. The were incredibly loud and obnoxious and looked like they had a blast. I aspire to be them.

[nonstoplover]

protagonist ~ joe liebgott (band of brothers)

my masterlist  |  my hbo war masterlist

pairing: joe liebgott x female reader

short summary: joe's assigned to search for the perfect house for easy's hq in the new town they'll soon arrive to on their way through germany and finds one with a girl in there who's like the protagonist of one of the comics he's read - courageous, fearless, heroic.

words: 2.5K

a/n: first of all, sorry for disappearing, exam season has started at my uni and i've been hella busy these past weeks (and gonna be for the following few as well,  u g h ).

anyway this fic came around from a conversation i had with the lovely @now-im-a-belieber when i was telling her about an idea i had and she technically came up with the base of this. thank you, Pearl, i love you xx (i hope i did justice to your idea)

oh and let's just say i have no clue if this would have been possible, at least the exact way i wrote it.

taglist: @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @50svibes @pennyllanne @nowinnablewar

gif credit: @basilone

Four loud bangs sound against her front door right as she starts washing the dishes after they finished lunch. With her eyes widening in surprise she rushes back into the room, telling the family of three to hide as she's drying her hands in her apron before making her way to the door.

After taking a deep breath she grabs the handle and opens it. The next thing she knows is being pushed to the side as a figure storms in past her without a word. A gasp leaves her lungs as her back lightly collides with the wall, head turning to watch as the soldier barges in the house.

What is going on? Has someone found out about them?

With a hand reaching behind her back she pushes herself off the wall and hurries behind the man. Trying hard to sound completely calm and innocent she asks him what is going on, but he only barks back something almost inaudible - only a few German words reach her ears.

The soldier is moving with such speed that she hasn't got a single chance to get a better look at his uniform as he's entering every room one by one. Who is he? Worry swiftly floods her veins - more importantly, what is he looking for?

She can only pray the family has had enough time to properly hide.

As he reaches that door, she holds her breath back, repeating her little prayer like a mantra inside her head. The man comes to a sudden halt just as he steps through the doorframe and in an instant fear makes her blood turn freezing cold. She carefully moves closer to glance inside next to his body, not knowing what to expect.

And what she sees makes everything else in her mind disappear - just the thoughts of all hell breaking loose any time now move around inside.

Her best friend crouches on the other side of the room, clearly frozen mid-movement as her body is still half out of the hiding spot, eyes wide as she stares at the soldier, not a single muscle moving. It's like everyone's got frozen in time, none of the three people makes a move.

Liebgott's mind slow to catch up to what he sees - he didn't expect to see that as he rushed through the house. He's only been trying to decide whether it's a good place for Easy's HQ, as he has been ordered to do when Winters sent him ahead of the company.

His eyes then start moving around the room, trying hard to find a good reason as to why that girl is half inside the wall. A book is laying on the table next to the door, open at around the middle. With one glance at the pages he recognises the letters of the hebrew alphabet, and suddenly it all makes sense.

She's a Jew.

His breath hitches in his throat as he struggles to comprehend this new information, and just in that very moment the silence is broken by a voice. And it's not coming from either of the two girls in the room - more like it's coming from inside the wall.

One simple sentence, ending with a Yiddish term of endearment - one he can perfectly understand. It came from a woman, asking the girl crouching facing him from across the room why she's stopped moving.

There are more Jews in there.

His lungs fill with a sharp breath he's taken and he spins around, staring straight at the girl who opened the front door only minutes prior. The question must be clear in his eyes as she starts stammering in defense, her voice audibly shaking.

Joe shakes his head, stopping her mid-sentence. "No, they're Jews, I can see it," he says in perfect German, and the already pale girl suddenly seems even whiter.

He swiftly grabs her arm and pulls her in the direction he remembers finding the dining room in, trying to find a chair for her to sit down on, as she's visibly close to fainting - though the reason behind it he can't find.

(y/n) flinches with utter fear, weakly trying to resist being pulled away - he most probably is now taking her away to kill her, right? He's a German soldier, that's what his job is. But no matter how hard she tries to wiggle away, his grip is too tight around her arm and she can't do a thing.

Just when they arrive to the dining room and he kind of pushes her into one of the chairs is when Joe realises that she's scared of him - she immediately pushes the chair further away from him as soon as he lets go of her. So that's why she's shaking so bad.

"No, wait, don't be scared," he rushes to say. "I'm a Jew too."

This finally breaks the scaredness - instead her eyes fill with utter confusion. Her forehead wrinkles as she tries to make sense of what he's saying. How can a German soldier be Jewish? It makes absolutely no sense.

With a sudden wave of suspicion she moves her glance down to his uniform, examining every detail she can lay her eyes upon.

Is he not German?!

Suddenly she can see differences - details about his uniform that she's never seen on a German soldier before, and she's seen her fair share of those in the past years.

But if he's not German, who is he and what is going on?

She takes a still shaky breath and looks back up into his eyes - seeing the waiting expression on his face as he's standing there in patient silence for her to say something.

"Are you-" Her voice cracks mid-sentence. It's not good. She clears her throat and tries again. "Are you German?"

All of a sudden he bursts out laughing - so loud, and somehow so dark that her eyes widen once again. She just can't decide if it's from fear again, or only surprise.

A minute or so goes by with nothing but Joe laughing - this must be one of the most hilarious things he's heard in the past couple years. That he is a German.

Then his laughter finally quietens down to slight chuckling and he speaks up once more to confirm the truth. "No, of course not," he shakes his head in amusement. One look in her eyes tells him that somehow she still has no clue about his nationality, so he opens his lips again to give an answer to her question in advance. "I'm American. Don't worry, you're not in trouble for that," Joe points back in the direction of the room with the hiding spot above his shoulder.

A loud sigh escapes her lungs, her shoulder visibly falling a bit as she slumps more into the chair. It feels like years worth of stress and nervousness have just come to an end - it's truly like an enormous stone has rolled down from her chest and shoulders. She somehow feels free again for the first time in years.

Relief completely replaces the worry and fear in her veins as all other thoughts leave her mind. She's not gonna die. At least not today.

"They're Jewish," the soldier speaks again - and it's not a question. More like a statement.

(y/n) nods, unable to say a word as she's still overwhelmed with her new feelings.

"You're hiding them?"

She just raises an eyebrow, and Joe mentally slaps himself - what a stupid question. He could've might as well just asked her the colour of the wall.

"Since when you've been hiding them?" He corrects his question.

"Ever since the whole thing has started," she answers, her voice so quiet it almost disappears in the air between them.

"Wow," Liebgott breathes out before he can stop himself. He stares at the girl in disbelief. She looks so innocent and young - she's probably one or two years younger than him. How could she pull off something such a thing? Such a dangerous and pretty reckless thing?

"Esther is my best friend, she's been ever since we were little kids, they all are like a second family to me, I've spent most of my days with them," (y/n) explains, the relief causing her to ramble and Joe - for about the first time in his life has to struggle to keep up with the German words that come flying out past her lips. "I just had to help them, you know. I couldn't just leave them here."

"Where's your own family?"

"My parents left to France to be further away from the chaos, and my brother joined the Luftwaffe, and since then I haven't heard from none of them."

"Why didn't you leave with your parents as well?" The young soldier keeps asking, moving closer to the table and sitting down on a chair on the opposite side, facing her. Pushing his M1's strap down his shoulder he places the weapon on the table, pushing it only a little further in order to calm the girl more. He knows he probably shouldn't do this - and keep Winters waiting, but he's too curious to stop himself, he has to hear the rest of her story.

"I love this town, I was born and raised here," she shrugs as if it's obvious. "But more importantly, I didn't want to leave and let innocent people like my best friend's family suffer. I wanted to stay and fight back as good as I could."

Joe subconsciously mumbles under his breath before he can stop himself - words that praise her absolute bravery, words that give away his true feelings he suddenly feels towards her - then he has to move his gaze away from her, fearing that she sees the embarrassment in his eyes. He tries hard to think of another question while also trying hard to forget the look of the half-smiling expression that took over her face just a moment before - it does nothing good for his heart.

"Did you make that hidden room yourself?" He asks in the end, thinking back to what he saw in the room.

"Oh," she giggles - and it's the prettiest sound he's heard in a very long time. "No, my father made it when me and my brother were young and often played hide and seek. I just improved it a little so they can fit in more comfortably."

Liebgott hums, not knowing how to tell her - or if he should even tell her in the first place - how absolutely super impressed she left him with every single thing she's told him and what he's seen. It's one of the craziest things he has ever heard, and he had a fair share of unbelievable stories told to him in his life. He simply couldn't even imagine how on Earth this girl could manage to do this - and not get caught. Throughout the whole war.

In that very moment he swiftly decides that he'll go and find another house for the HQ, and that he'll somehow get back to this particular one, no matter what it takes. He wants to get to know her better. He has to get to know her better.

She's the most incredible woman he's ever heard of, read about or met. She's a woman who fits in the stories of the comics he's been reading his whole life - as the protagonist, the hero. He can't leave this town without hearing more about her, seeing her face more. That would be the biggest regret of his whole life, he can already tell.

But for now, he has to leave. It wouldn't be a good idea to keep his officers waiting even longer.

He stands up, fingers reaching out to grab his M1 before looking back into her eyes. Damn, he doesn't even know her name.

"I have to head back to my company, but I'll come back later, if that's okay with you."

Her eyes are already on his, seemingly staring straight into his soul with that intensity that lays in her (y/e/c) orbs. The girl then rises to her feet - still never breaking the eye contact.

Thoughts race inside her head, and it's like an angel and a demon are sitting on each of her shoulders, one telling her to say no whilst the other trying to convince her to say yes.

What if he only wants to use her? What if he only wants to sleep with her? Maybe force her to do so, threatening her with his knowledge of the Jewish family. He might not even be who and what he says he is. How could she know?

But on the other hand, there is this feeling she has about him. A feeling that tells her that nothing she previously thought will happen. She doesn't know what it is, but it's there, right in her chest, and she can't fight it. He seems genuinely curious and impressed, and honest. And she feels a pull towards him. She wants to see him again.

In the end, the devil on her shoulder wins, and she simply nods - right before she could change her mind.

"I'm Joe," the young soldier moves around the table, one hand held out towards her.

A glance cast down and right back up to his face she takes his hand and gives it a shake, holding onto it tightly, as if only to let him know how strong she actually is.

It probably works, 'cause he raises an eyebrow, slightly tilts his head and the corners of his lips curve up into the smallest smirk she's ever seen - but it's there.

"(y/n)," she eventually answers with her own introduction.

A few seconds pass and neither has let go of the other's hand, not yet. They just stand there, staring into each other's eyes, only the small noises of them breathin breaking the silence.

Then Liebgott blinks, clears his throat, pulls his hand out from her grip and instinctively places his fingers upon his weapon hanging from his shoulder whilst nodding towards her as a gesture of saying goodbye without words.

She watches as he turns around and walks out from the room, and after a tiny, happy sigh she follows the sound of his steps.

Just as he opens the front door and moves through it is when she arrives to the hall. Joe glances back over his shoulder for one last time, offering her a small smile, then looks back ahead of him and continues his walk as if nothing has happened. None of the past dozen of minutes.

(y/n) leans against the doorframe and watches him right until he disappears in the distance with a dreamy look in her eyes.

She can't wait until he comes back again.

.::the end::.

(might write a part two if i'll have time and you'd like to read it)

my masterlist  |  my hbo war masterlist

[wanna be added to my taglist?]

[llycaons]

ok ok bcs finale

wow 'gene' here is not having a good time

MARIE!!!!!!

"My husband was the best person I knew. He lived to help others." Literally not true, he was a racist scumbag who openly mocked others, beat a 23 year old to within an inch of his life, and tried to intimidate a woman he knew has probably been abused.

I know she's a grieving widow but her husband sucked ass and so did his jokes

this is probably intentional

"you did it all for money" get him, Marie

saul spinning this like he's the victim is a surprise, but none of the things he says ww did is incorrect

"I've lost my family" dude you don't have one

I hate him so much, this smug slimeball

asking for ice cream, the cavalier bastard

omg ww. bastard man

no more jesse, huh :( he got his cameo

bryan cranston really is so good though. "brah ha time travel is a scientific impossibility, fool. no imagination or whimsy here"

"STAY IN YOUR LANE" lmao

'my regret is when I established a company with my FAKE friends who MANIPULATED me into LEAVING it' get a load of this guy

help when saul was like "omg I could have sued for you!" and ww was like "no fuck you I would have never hired you"

"a slip and fall. right. so you were always like this"

the laugh I'm doing rn is so weird sounding but it is genuine

if saul is giving testimony that hurts kim...what the fuck

fucking scumbag

it's so funny how they call judges "the right honorable" such rituals

blanca gomez!!!

like a target!

if I was a judge faced this this asshole I would immediately drop the recs

I feel such rage when I see him

I wish these people would be less forgiving and meaner to him. and given my distaste for the american justice system I do not say that often

'I THINK I KNOW THE LAW HERE BETTER THAN YOU DO'??? oh this is intentional

im so mad they care more about the cops than about the children killed

bless oakley's heart, he's really trying

I don't really care about his brother or his name but uh good for him

actually thank god he's not going by jimmy anymore

"I'm doing this because you're my brother and you'd do the same for me" he literally would not and you can tell by the uncomfortable smile

I forgot how annoying I found chuck

yeah not to be mean but a middle aged man so dependent on and obsessed with getting his brother's approval is so uninteresting to me. like that kind of immaturity is so unappealing

damn he lost his entire deal, and for what? not for kim. to come clean?

what the fuck

kim!!!!! KIM KIM KIM KIM KIM KIM KIM KIM

what happened to her hair, anyway? I couldn't even recognize her at first

I don't like that this is how the story ends. what's the message, that life in prison is justice? seems a disappointment given how critical the show has been of the justice system

and that's it? we don't even know where kim will end up

man, what a downer. I guess I shouldn't have expected something happy given how brba ended, but el camino had a lot of hope in it so I guess I was hoping for something like that

in conclusion: meh

[beatriceeagle]

I'm more of a fantasy than sci-fi person, but consider my interest piqued. Why should I watch farscape?

Okay, the thing is, every Farscape fan’s pitch on Why You, Yes You, Should Watch Farscape ends up sounding very similar, and that’s because Farscape is a black hole that sucks you in and does things to your brain, and after you’ve watched it you are never, ever the same, which incidentally is basically the plot of Farscape.

I would summarize the basic plot for you, but that’s work, and luckily, the show’s credits sequence includes a handy summary that I will provide instead of doing that work: “My name is John Crichton, an astronaut. A radiation wave hit, and I got shot through a wormhole. Now I’m lost in some distant part of the universe on a ship, a living ship, full of strange alien life forms. Help me. Listen, please. Is there anybody out there who can hear me? I’m being hunted by an insane military commander. Doing everything I can. I’m just looking for a way home.“

So let me break down that monologue into its component reasons you should watch Farscape.

1) Some of the strange alien life forms are Muppets.

Farscape a co-production with the Jim Henson Company, and while there are many aliens played by humans in make-up, there are also a considerable number (including two of the regular crew) who are Muppets. By which I do not mean Kermit. I mean really gorgeous, elaborate works of art.

Also, even a lot of the humans-in-makeup aliens just look cool, and incredibly weird. Here’s an alien who appears in a single episode of season 1:

Not that there aren’t, you know, occasional Star Trek-style “these guys are just humans with weird hair,” or whatever, but in general, the aliens on Farscape look really alien. And that’s more than an aesthetic choice; it’s Farscape’s driving narrative principle. The aliens look alien, they act alien, they have alien values.

You know how a lot of sci-fi shows will have a stand-in for “fuck,” like Battlestar Galactica has “frak”? Well, Farscape has “frell.” And also “dren.” And yotz, hezmana, mivonks, loomas, tralk, snurch, eema, drannit, dench, biznak, arn, drad, fahrbot, narl. Some of those are swear words, but some of them are just words, never explicitly translated, that the alien characters will pepper into their speech, because, well, why should translator microbes be able to completely translate all the nuances of an alien culture? You’ll pick it up from context. One time, in passing, a character mentions that he’s familiar with the concept of suicide, but there’s no word for it in his language. I cannot emphasize to you enough how fleeting this moment is; the episode is not about suicide, we’re not having a great exchange of cultural ideas—at the time, the characters are running down a corridor in a crisis, as they are about 70 percent of the time—it’s just that the subject got brought up, and this character needed to talk around the fact that he literally didn’t have a word, in that moment. Things like that happen all the time, on Farscape.

Because more than anything else, Farscape is a show about culture shock. John Crichton is this straight, white Southern guy, at the top of his game—he’s an astronaut! he’s incredibly high status!—and then he ends up on the other side of the galaxy, where none of his cultural markers of privilege hold any meaning, where he doesn’t know the rules, where he literally can’t even open the doors. And he has to unlearn the idea that humanity is central, that he is the norm.

2) John Crichton, an astronaut, is pretty great.

A show that’s about a straight white guy with high status having to learn that he’s not the center of the universe could easily be centered around a really insufferable person, but one of the subtle things that makes Farscape so wonderful is that Crichton is, for the most part, pretty excellent. He has a lot of presumptions to unlearn because almost anyone in his cultural position would, but he’s also just a stand-up guy: compassionate, intelligent, open-minded, decent, forgiving, brave, hopeful.

And the galaxy tries to kick a whole lot of that out of him. It doesn’t succeed, mostly, but if Farscape is about anything other than culture shock, it’s about the lasting effects of trauma. How you can go through a wormhole one person, and experience things that turn you into someone you don’t recognize.

That’s kind of grim-sounding, but ultimately, what I’m trying to say is that Farscape is almost fanatically devoted to character work. Crichton is not the only character who sounds like he should be one thing and ends up being another. All of the characters—all of them, all of them, even the annoying ones—are complicated wonders. And you don’t have to wonder whether the events of the episode you’re watching are going to matter. They will. Everything that happens to the characters leaves a mark. Everything leaves them forever changed. Whether it’s mentioned explicitly or not—and often enough, it’s not explicit—the characters remember what has happened to them.

3) The living ship houses a lot of excellent women, among them the ship itself.

Ah, the women of Farscape, thou art the loves of my fucking life.

There’s Aeryn Sun, former Peacekeeper (that’s the military that the “insane military commander” hails from) now fugitive, currently learning the meaning of the word “compassion” (literally). She will break your fingers and also your heart. John/Aeryn is the main canon romantic ship.

There’s Pa’u Zhoto Zhaan, a priestess of the ninth level, current pacifist, former anarchist. Sorry, leading anarchist. She orgasms in bright light! (Oh my god, Farscape.)

There’s Chiana, my fucking bestie, a teenage(ish? ages in Farscape are weird) fugitive on the run from a repressive authoritarian state. Chiana is like a seductress con artist grifter thief who mostly just wants to survive so that she can have fun, damn it. Characters on Farscape do not really discuss sexualities (sex, yes, sexualities, no) and it would be fair to say that several of them do not fall along human sexuality lines generally, but I’m gonna go ahead and say that Chiana is canonically not straight.

Then there’s Moya, the ship herself, and it’s hard to get a straight read on Moya’s personality, since she mostly can’t speak. But she definitely has opinions, and things and people she cares about. And she moves the plot, though that gets into spoiler territory.

Past first season, further excellent women show up: Jool (controversial, but I like her), Sikozu (I once saw a Tumblr meme where someone had marked down that Sikozu would lose her shit when someone pronounced “gif” wrong, and that’s absolutely correct, and it’s why I love her), and Noranti (who is incredibly weird, and incredibly hard to summarize, but man, you gotta love her willingness to just show up and do her thing). Plus, there’s a recurring female villain, Grayza, who I could write probably multiple essays about. (I don’t know how you will feel about Grayza, as not everyone loves her, but I think she’s fucking fascinating, especially because she’s not actually the only recurring female villain. We also get Ahkna!)

(Side note: I should mention, here, that the cast of Farscape is really, really white. There is one cast member of color, Lani Tupu, but he pretty much represents the entirety of even, like, incidental diversity in casting for the series.)

Anyway, Farscape is full of awesome women, and also awesome and unexpected men, and it really enjoys playing with audience expectations of gender roles, generally. Literal entire books have been written about the way that Farscape fucks around with sex, sexuality, and gender. It’s a little weird because it was the late 90s/early 2000s, and sometimes that does come through, but Farscape’s guiding principle was always to try not to present American culture of the time as the norm, so like. It is not.

(An aside on Farscape and sex: Literally every character on Farscape has sexual tension with every other character. If you are a shipper, this is a Good Show, because no matter who you ship, there will not only be subtext, you will get a Moment of some kind. Multiple characters kiss the Muppet. Farscape is dedicated to getting into the nitty-gritty of the galaxy—I like to think of it as showing the guts of the universe—so a lot of the show is kind of squishy. They live on a biomechanoid ship, instead of androids there are “bioloids,” there’s a lot of focus on strange alien biologies, and lots of weird glowing fluids and things. I think the sex thing is kind of part and parcel of the larger biology focus: Farscape is really fascinated with how we all eat and evolve and live and die and, well, fuck. Which is in turn, kind of part of its focus on making everything really alien.)

4) Other stuff you should know.

Farscape as a whole is excellent, but it was kind of the product of creative anarchy—an Australian/American coproduction (oh yeah, everyone except Crichton speaks with an Australian accent) that was also partnered with the Henson company, whose showrunners were based in America but whose actual production all took place in Australia, and who was just constantly trying new things. So individual episodes can vary wildly in quality. It really takes off in the back half of season one, but no season is without a few off episodes.

It is extraordinarily funny, and I really think I haven’t stressed that enough. It’s one of the shows I want to quote the most in my daily life, but almost all of its humor is really context-dependent, and if you just wander around going, “Hey Stark? What’s black and white, and black and white, and black and white?” people look at you really funny.

It’s very conversant with pop culture generally (although obviously sci-fi  specifically, and Star Trek most specifically of all) and really enjoys deconstructing tropes, often to the effect of, “Well, Crichton really does not know what to do here, does he?” but sometimes just to be interesting.

There are also a lot of themes about science, and its uses and misuses.

The whole thing is fucking epic, and if you get invested at all, will take you on an emotional ride.

This show is weird. I know that that’s probably come across by now, but I think it’s worth reiterating as its own point: Farscape is so weird. Like, proudly, unabashedly, trying its hardest, weird. An amazing kind of weird.

If you’re into fantasy, you should know that there’s a recurring villain who’s just a wizard. Like, they don’t bother to explain it any more than that, he’s just a fucking wizard.

In summary: You should watch Farscape because it is a weird, wild, emotional, epic romance/drama/action/allegory full of Muppets and leather and one-liners and emotional gut punches and love, and if you let it, it will worm its way into you and never let go, which, now that I think of it, is another Farscape plot.

Send me meta prompts to distract me from my migraine!

[lu-undy]

A lil sad request: spy gets hurt on the battlefield like really hurt and he’s rushed to medic bay afterwards. And sniper not allowed to see him so he gets really worried and starts venting to demo that he might not ever see him again and he that blaming himself for lu getting injured. Only to have Interrupted by spy in cast who is very disappointed that mundy thinks he could killed so easily-

Here we go, a worried lil’ Aussie bloke :) Hope you like it!

"They've been in there for hours, can't I see him? I just want to see him!" 

"Nyet." 

Heavy was standing in front of the door to Medic's lab. His German friend had instructed him not to let anyone in, especially not Sniper.

"Ugh, mate, please…"

"Nyet." 

Sniper sighed and his shoulders sank. Heavy stood like a wall between him and Medic's lab.

"Is there anything I can do for you to let me in?" 

Heavy shook his head.

"Wanker…" Sniper turned his back and went away. 

Spy had been quite severely injured right at the end of the round so respawn did not fix it. All Sniper knew about it was what he saw of the incident. Spy was escaping the enemy Soldier and wanted to jump to a lower level of the map. However, Soldier had shot a rocket, making Spy jump higher than he had anticipated and he landed unconscious right at Sniper's feet as the Administrator announced their victory. 

Well, what is a victory when Spy's body was unconscious and covered in blood in Sniper's arms? 

Nothing is what it was, nothing, and certainly not a victory. 

Sniper went back to the base. He thought that a bit of time with his colleagues might manage to distract him from his worries about his lover. He sat on the couch in the living-room next to Demo and Soldier who were watching some American football on TV. 

"Hey, lad, fancy a beer?" Demo handed him a bottle but Sniper shook his head. "Is it Spy?" Demo asked, seeing his friend's distraught blue eyes behind the aviator glasses. 

"Yeah…" 

"No! He missed it!" Soldier shouted at the screen and both Sniper and Demo got startled. 

"C'mere, lad. You need a good chat." Demo stood up and pulled Sniper to follow him. He dragged him outside and they sat on the edge of the van, at the back, on the small step there. "So, what's wrong?" 

"He's still with Medic and I'm… I'm worried, ok?" 

"Yeah, I can see that. But don't you worry, I'm sure the doc' will fix him!" 

"Yeah, well…"

Demo squinted at Sniper. 

"The doc' always fixes us, why d'you still worry?" 

"I don't know… When he crashed next to me, I - it was terrible. His face was pale, more pale than usual but he was covered in blood and worst of all, he was completely unconscious. But what scares me now is that the doc' never spends that long with anyone, even when we break our bones… I can't help thinkin' something seriously bad has happened." 

Demo put a hand on Sniper's shoulder but the Aussie kept his head lowered, staring at his boots and the orange, dusty ground of the desert.

"Have you tried to ask Medic?" Demo asked. 

"I tried, but Heavy's at the door and he won't let me in…"

"Ah, yeah, well… D'you want me to go and ask? Maybe he'll let me go in?" 

Sniper's face brightened. 

"Y-yeah, please, ask him how Spy's doing and uh, how much longer before I see him, and ask him if-"

"Wow, wow, lad, calm down, eh?" Demo chuckled. "I'll do it all. Now, you stay here and," Demo stood up. "Ye don't move, alright?" 

Sniper nodded excitedly and he rested his chin on his palms, waiting for Demo to come back. The poor Aussie couldn't help taking a look at his watch every so often. He was naturally patient, but Spy had changed him a bit in that regard. 

Well, Spy had changed him a lot. First, he loved him back, and that was the biggest change in Sniper's life for a few decades at least. He wasn't one to go around wooing ladies or gents. He didn't like the whole process of dating. Having ideas where to take the person, getting ready for it, preparing everything and half of the time, ending up being stood up. Nah… He didn't like it. The way Sniper usually did it was in pubs. After a couple of drinks, no one is shy anymore and sheilas are easier to get and less picky. He'd play the solitary hunter who lives in a van and boom, as easy as a headshot, he'd find himself someone to spend the night with.

But that was about it. The next morning, they would be gone and wouldn't want more of him. Hell, to be honest, neither did he. How could you want more from someone that you just know the body of? 

Spy had broken that habit - or that curse. Sniper couldn't exactly recall how it happened but they got to know each other and spend more and more time with each other without it feeling like dates per se. They would show up in their Mann Co. uniforms and decide what to do on the spur of the moment. Spy showed him a few good movies, not always the kind that Sniper had expected him to like. He would reciprocate by showing him the stars at night and commenting at length on the godly night blanket under which Sniper slept. 

Not anymore, eh. They had started sleeping together and as curious as it had seemed for both of them, they had started by just sleeping. Sniper found it odd that Spy wouldn't be more forward but on his side of things, Spy just wanted that: some company. Sniper eventually understood it and they spent the sweetest nights with the most pleasant of dreams. They were living the dream, sleeping in each other's arms, one spooning the other, or one using the other's shoulder as a pillow, their limbs entangled. And they would wake up to hums, kisses and happy moans.

Sniper sighed and he grinned without realising it. He was in love with the Frenchman in a way that was so different, so pure, that it almost seemed childish. 

Of course, they had their needs and as such, they would indulge each other when they weren't too tired. Sniper had learnt a lot throughout the torrid nights with Spy. He had learnt about it as a general concept but also about himself. Spy showed him a lot without maybe knowing it. But now Sniper knew. He was lovable, his scars, bites and claw marks weren't a problem, his lack of Australia-shaped chest hair wasn't an issue at all and none of it made him less of a man. No, as it turned out, Spy showed extensively how much he loved them all, how he treasured every bit of his lover's body. And in his turn, Sniper had reciprocated.

"Sniper?" 

Demo's voice broke Sniper's daydreaming. 

"So, you saw him?" 

"Nah, Heavy didn't let me in but he went to ask and Medic said you could go and see for yerself."

"Oh, I'll go then, thanks, mate." 

"No problem, lad."

Sniper almost ran to Medic's quarters. Heavy had disappeared from the front door. He gave a knock and Medic answered. 

"Yes, Sniper, come in." 

"Hey, uh, can I see him?" 

Medic nodded. 

"Yes, you may. But-"

Sniper didn't wait for the end of the sentence and opened the door to the room Spy was in. 

"Spook?" 

Distress flashed across Sniper's face as he realised that the room was empty. 

"Where is he?" He entered. 

"Right behind you." The suave voice with the French accent answered and when Sniper turned and saw him, he threw himself at the injured man, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

"Oh my God, you got me worried so much!" 

"B-Bushman! Too strong, too strong!"

"Ah, sorry…" Sniper relaxed his hug and took a second to take in the view of Spy in his suit and - oh, a cast on his leg?

"I have to keep it for a few days." Spy said, seeing that Sniper had noticed. "But I have to go and see Medic everyday for it until I remove it." 

"Oh, ok… Does it still hurt?" 

"A bit, but much less than a few hours ago." 

"Gosh, I missed you so much, love…" 

Spy softened and let go of the crutches he was holding. They fell on the floor. He cupped Sniper's face with a tender smile. 

"I can see that on your face. But did you really think something that bad had happened?"

"Yeah, I mean, you were there for hours…"

"Because I argued with Medic."

"What?" 

"Can we sit down please? Resting on one leg is quite painful."

"S-sure." 

They took a seat on the chairs in the room. 

"Oui, I argued with him because he wanted me to stay here day and night."

"Why didn't you accept? If he thinks it's best for you then do it."

"And be nailed to this room without you for days? Non, I refused. And it took us a bit of quarrelling before we agreed on this solution." Spy pointed at the cast. 

"Oh… I see."

"Demoman came and told me you were worried to the bone." 

"Y-yeah, a bit." Sniper blushed and averted his gaze. Spy bent forward and took his lover's hand. 

"Do you think me that weak? After all we have been through already in this God forsaken company?"

"N-no, nah, I mean…"

Medic opened the door and interrupted them. 

"Now that the princess is rescued from her castle, do you mind leaving so that I can disinfect the place? Or maybe you changed your mind Spy, and you want to stay after all?" He taunted. 

"My leg is in a cast, but my hands are not and I can still use a knife or a gun, Medic." Spy stood up and caught the crutches that Medic threw at him. He walked to the man in the labcoat. "If I were you, I would watch my tongue." He added threateningly.

"Uh, thanks doc'." Sniper said to ease the atmosphere. 

"My absolute pleasure and delight…" Medic sarcastically added. "Always a pleasure to tend to a rotten spoilt child's wounds…" 

Spy turned and was about to answer but Sniper dragged him out and in a few minutes, they were back in Spy's smoking-room. 

"D'you want something? You hungry? Maybe a glass of water?" 

Spy smiled. 

"I may be injured but I am not crippled yet, so if I need anything, I am still capable of fetching it myself." 

Sniper blushed. 

"Sorry, I didn't want to offend you…"

"You didn't. Come next to me, please." 

They sat side by side on the sofa. 

"Please put the show that you like on TV."

"You want to watch it?" Sniper grabbed the remote and turned the TV screen on. 

"Oui." Spy leaned his head on Sniper's shoulder and threw away his gloves and his balaclava. 

"Thought you hated it." 

"Not more than being away from you for hours." Spy's hand found Sniper's and he held it dearly. "I… I missed you too, Sniper."

Sniper's blush went to his ears and he looked down at Spy. He looked gorgeous… The Aussie wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. 

"Love you, Spook."

"So do I." 

Sniper's eyes were back on the screen when he felt a peck land shyly on his cheek before Spy's head settled on his shoulder.

[najatheangel]

Idol Life Ship☮

Hello!! 💜 I was wondering if I could request for Idol Life Ship... I am ENFJ-T from personalities. I am loud, straightforward, honest, stubborn, ambitious, talkative, caring, big crackhead sometimes, but I can be wise as well too... I'm emotional too... About hobbies I love dancing, fooling around with friends, working out, singing, shopping, TRAVELING and exploring... I do not watch TV or etc a lot, because I am always busy in [...]

I hope you will have no trouble with it and I would be grateful for it🙃... Have a nice day and stay healthy!! 💜

Hello honeybun, thanks so much for your kind words and I hope the same for you. Thanks for being so patient your ship is finally complete...🤩

Your Company: KQ Entertainment

You were a backup dancer for big names such as Hwasa, Wonho and even American artists such as Justin Bieber for around 3 years. You’ve decided to audition under a big company to continue your career as a dancer under KQ Entertainment. What stood out to them is your stage presence, ability to make the crowd smile and your dancing skills. You’ve trained under KQ for 6 months. 

Number of Members: Total of 5 members. Two Korean, 1 Taiwanese, 1 from Canada and then there’s you. 

Group Concept: Girl Crush

Your Position: Lead Dancer/Sub Vocalist/Mood maker. In the group, you were the second member that debuted into the group and a lot of eyes were on you whenever you danced on the m/v’s. At the time, you were one of the top female dancers in the industry and received so many offers with different idols to do collab stages which of course you did. You may not be mainly known for your vocals, but your with your talent and irresistible charms, most of your fans had a crush on you. In the group, your the most outgoing and have your chaotic moments in interviews. Some other days your very chill observing the room watching over the younger members. Your apart of the brat line pulling pranks, teasing the older members and spilling all the tea on everyone’s embarrassing moments in weekly idol. The members adore you and love when you light up every room you step foot in. 

Your Scandal: You had a few dating scandals here and there. You have a lot of male idol friends close to you which led some crazy fans to think that you were dating some of them. It didn’t bother you in the slightest, but you still made sure to be cautious when approaching your friends in public. 

Girl BFF: Jessi. She immediately approached you on music award shows every chance she got the chance to express her gratitude towards you. She admires how hard you work and continues to offer to hangout on the weekends to work on music together. She’s like a mentor/mom to you she takes good care of you and isn’t afraid to stand up for you. You both love gossiping and catching up on each other’s lives. 

Boy BFF: Ten from Nct. You’ve trained with him long ago before during your pre debut days and have bumped into backstage noticing him practicing his dance moves repeatedly until he nailed it perfectly. You would always hype him up in the background and sometimes join him in the dancing not giving a care who’s watching. After the job is done, he loves taking you out to restaurants, by best friend shirts to stir up some mess with dispatch and even go bowling every weekend. Your both reckless, but have fun together. 

Your Ideal Type: Wooyoung from Ateez. You were the first girl group to enter the company so of course he got a little excited when he heard the news. He was dying to meet you and the other members, but you seem to caught his eye out of everyone. His intentions were good for the most part and he wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible when settling in the company. He thinks your attractive and just smiles whenever you glow on stage. He also loves teasing you, but never would take it too far because he know you would come back 10x harder. In the end, he saw you as one of his closest sisters in the company and never tried to confess his feelings he had for you.

Your BF: Yugyeom from Got7. Jackson was one of your other closest friends in the industry and introduced you to his bandmates at one of his album release parties. Once you and Yugyeom met up with each other, you both were kind of staring at each other a lot and biting your lips nervously whenever you would make eye contact. Things escalate real quick once the music turns on and he offers to dance with you. Ya’ll get real close and after one night, it’s hard to separate the two of you. Whenever your schedules were cleared up, you would have the whole day to yourselves walking around the city, taking 100+ couple pictures and not having a care in the world who’s watching being absolute crackheads in public. Best friend Bam Bam definitely approves and joins in on the chaos every once in awhile. 

How long have you debuted for: 9 years. Your group still stay close in touch and visit each others hometown every year. 

Other Activities: Music Show Host/ Solo Artist

@kmk61​ I can hope you enjoyed your ship and feel free to request again anytime. Have a nice day/night! ☁️☁️

[anne-white-star]

Young Jon pertwee x waitress!reader 

Notes: reader is a waitress jon saves her from a scary situation and more will happen read to find out😊

Please ignore any spelling mistakes thank you 😊

There are hystorical mistakes im sorry about that i tried my best

Warnings : cursing nothing bad or explisit

Words : 2067

It was 1947 2 years After the war of 1945 people wer trying to pick back up their lives. A lot of buildings were destroyed many people died, lots of people fled and fought the war it was a big chaos the last 5 years, but things were calm now.

Jon pertwee came back home from the war after serving as a marine in the navy on the HMS Hood also in the ww2 many of his men died one of the only survivers of his group was him and Ian Fleming. (I hope i got it corect if not my excuses)

"Hey jon! How are you doing mate?" Jon turnd around at the mention of his name.

"Oh hey ian, it has been a few years" jon grabed his hand and shook it "im doing fine how about you?".

"im doing alright, im just trying to pick my life back up you?" They started to walk next to echother.     

"Yes me to the past years have been really tough" as they both crossed the street jon his eyes fell on a bar/restaurant/pub "shall we go get a beer? Than we talk further".

"Sounds good im always if for a cold beer" ian laught

Walking in they were greated by lots of men sitting and drinking their fill, waitresses were serving food the bar tender was filling their beer mug. And there were a few cooks in the back prepairing some food. They sat down at a table and a women walked up to them.

"Hello welkom to the fox and hounds my name is y/n and i will be your waitress this afternoon would you like to eat or drink something?" She grabed a pen and note book out of her apron ready to Wright down their order. (The Fox & Hounds is locaded at 29 Passmore St, Belgravia, London SW1W 8HR, not far from jon his old home at 66 Chester Row it was build around 1960 but lets pretend its older)

"Umm yes" jon looked at the menu

"I'll take a pint" ian said

"I take one as wel"

Y/n looked up from her note book "anything ells?"

"No this is fine" jon smiled at the women

"Alright two pints coming up" she walked back to the bar to get them

"Are you starting to like her don't you?" Ian asked

"What?"

"I saw the way you looked at her"

"Oh be quiet you" jon punched his shoulder while grining  

"So here you go two pints that be 2s 4d"( its origanaly 1s 2d im not british i Googled it but i really don't know how this works it was after the war) she smiled and put them down on the table before them

"Here you go i pay for both of us" ian said to her and smiled

Y/n took the money from the table and put it in her apron

Jon started to drink his beer and they talked with echoter for about 30 minuts when

"Hey let me go aaahhh!!!"

They both turned around to look where the scream came from, when they turned around they saw y/n being hold back with a gun pointed to her head

"Give me all the money out the register or the pretty girl will pay with her life"   

"Please let me go" she asked while crying softly

Jon put his beer mug back down on the table and stood up "let the girl go"

"Hmpf" "what are you going to....." the man was caught of guard by jon punching him in the face "agh!! you fucking cunt!" the gun fell out of his hand and His hands flew to his nose. Jon grabed the gun from the ground and went to stand in between y/n and the man.

"Now put your hands up turn around and face the wall" jon pointed the gun in the back of the man "someone call the police"

Ian walked up to y/n and sat next to her on the ground "are you alright?"

"Yeah yeah im fine..... i just need a moment" *sigh*

About 30 minuts later Two police officers stept in "Good afternoon we got a call for a attempt of robbery and a hostage"

"Yes sirs here he is" jon said while still pointing his gun at the man.

"Alright we take it from here thank you so mutch for keeping him under controle" one of the police man took handcuffs and arested the man.

"Also here is his gun" jon gave it to the other officer

"Thank you sir, we will take care of all this".

After the police officers took the man away jon turned to y/n sitting on the ground with a blanked over her shoulders. "how are you feeling?"

"Im feeling better now thank you" *sigh* "i just feel a bit scared now to get home"

"Where do you life?"

"About 30 minuts away but i have to be at work tomorow"

"If you want you can stay at my home i don't live far from the restaurant"

"That would be Nice sir"

"Oh please don't be so formal just call me jon"

"Thank you jon" y/n smiled at him.

Ian had been gone for a few hours after the insedent, after y/n her shift they walked to jon's house

"So this is my place" jon unlocked the door and let her in. "Make yourself at home"

"Its quite lovely" she looked around, y/n put her bag down and hung her coat on the coat rack.

"You must be hugry" jon said while walking to the kitchen "what would you like?"

"Hmm is (favorite food) alright?"

Jon laught "sure but i don't know how to make that, perhaps you could help me?"

"Of course i will help you jon its the least i can do" she went to stand next to him.

After they were done preparing the food they both sat down and started to eat

"Hmm this tastes great"

"Im glad you like it jon"

When they were done with eating their food y/n went to prepare herself for bed "where can i sleep jon?"

"you can take the bed y/n i'll take the coutch"

"Are you sure?"

"Its fine don't worry, good night dear"

"Good night".

The next morning both jon and y/n had breakfast with echoter and talked about all kinds of stuff

"i can't thank you enough for helping me out yesterday"

"Oh its nothig i dealed with worse"

"You fought in the war din't you?"

"Unfortanetly yes" jon looked down sadly "so many died, i lost a lot of comerats in battle"

Y/n grabed his hand softly in hers "Im so sorry, that you had to go trough that jon"

Jon smiled at her "Its alright I only hope this never happens again"

Y/n looked at the clock "oh goodness i have to get ready my shift starts in an hour" she stood up and went to get ready for work.

The few days that y/n had to work she would sleep the nights at jon's house so that she could be at work on time when she had off from work y/n would go back to her own home. Jon had to admid the days when she wasn't there during the late afternoon and diner it was quite lonley, but the days she was at his house they enjoyed cooking, reading and playing games to pass the time.

6 months had passed sinds the incedent at the fox and hounds and y/n and jon got very close with echoter they became great Friends even to the point that they both fell in love with one another but both din't know it that they were.

"Hey jon in a few days there will be music at the fox and hounds and i was wondering if you would like to go with me?"

"Sure it sounds like fun"

The evening came around and people were dressed up formal y/n was wearing a long black dress with long white gloves and golden wristbands plus a pearl necklace around her nek her hair was in pretty waves down her back. They were enjoying them selfs when the bar tender came up to y/n

"Y/n can i talk to you for a moment"

"Alright sure, i be back in a few minuts jon" they both walked to the back of the restaurant "whats wrong?"

"Wel i got the news that the last person who was suposed to sing could't come because their car broke down"

"Oh no what are we going to do"

"Cant you go up there?"

"What me? Really?"

"Yes you, i have heared you sing something while being in the back your voice is very pretty y/n"

"Hmm... Alright i'll do it"

"Thank you y/n you are a life saver"

About 30 minuts later it was time for her to come one the stage

"Ladys and gentelmen may i have your atention for the last act y/n y/l/n"

(Play the song from here if you want)

🎶He was a famous trumpet man from old Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

He's in the army now, a-blowin' Reveille

He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B

A-toot, a-toot, a-toot-diddelyada🎶

Y/n looked over the crowd trying to find jon

🎶Ai, ai, ai, ai, ai

Have you ever danced in the tropics?

Well that girl's a fool

With the Gaucho?????

Of the South American way, hey!

Ai, ai, ai, ai. ai

Could you have ever kissed in the moon light

If you never kissed

Who knows what you've missed

In the South American Way🎶

Again looking around she still could't spot him

🎶Bei mir bist du schoen

Please let me explain

Bie mir bist du schoen means you're grand

Bei mir bist du schoen

Again I'll explain

It means you're the fairest in the land

I could say "bella, bella"

Even say "wunderbar"

Each language only helps me tell you

How grand you are

I'll try to explain

Bei mir bist du schoen

So kiss me and say you'll understand🎶

"Okay guys, grab your gal and hit the floor

'Cos here's that beat you've been waiting to swing to" said the bar tender to the crowd of people

🎶Who's the lovin' daddy with the beautiful eyes

What a pair o' lips, I'd like to try 'em for size

I'll just tell him, "Baby, won't you swing it with me"

Hope he tells me, "Baby, what a wing it will be"

So, I said politely "Darlin' may I intrude"

He said "Don't keep me waitin' when I'm in the mood"

In the mood

In the mood

In the mood

It didn't take me long to say "I'm in the mood now🎶

She finaly spoted him in the crowd he was looking at her with a dreamy look.

🎶If you ever go down Trinidad

They make you feel so very glad

Calypso sing and make up rhyme

Guarantee you one real good fine time

Drinkin' rum and Coca-Cola

Go down Point Koomahnah

Both mother and daughter

Workin' for the Yankee dollar🎶

🎶Oh, Tico Tico, tick

Oh, Tico Tico, tock

This Tico Tico, he's the cuckoo in my clock

And when he says "Cuckoo"

He means it's time to woo

It's Tico time for all the lovers in the block

I've got a heavy date

A tete-a-tete at eight

So speak, oh Tico, tell me is it getting late?

If I'm on time, cuckoo

But, if I'm late, woo woo

The one my heart is gone to may not want to wait🎶

🎶In Spain they say "Si, si"

In France you hear "Oui, oui"

Ev'ry little Dutch girl says "Ya, ya"

Ev'ry little Russian says "Da, da"

La-la-la-la-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da

Da-da-da-de-de-da-da

De-da-da-da-da-da-da-da🎶

When the song was over people clapped and cheered for her performance. Jon walked up the stairs of the podium.

"That was amazing y/n i din't know you could sing so wel"

"Thank you jon it means a lot" y/n smiled

"I want to ask you a question y/n"

"Yes jon go ahead"

"Would you like to be My girlfriend?"

"I would love to"

Jon kissed y/n a top of her head knowing that this women wil be a great joy in his live.

The end

I hope you all enjoyed reading 😊

[qqueenofhades]

Okay ONE MORE because I'm needy. “Ring the bells that can still ring. Forget your perfect offering. There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” For Garcy or Asher/Maria.

The Engineering & Aerospace Technical and Industrial Summit’s keynote opening address is held in the New York Hall of Science, and starts four minutes past nine AM on April 28, 1972. Maria is in the audience with the others, Lockman lanyard around her neck, notepad and number-two pencils at the ready. As promised, it’s a notably international gathering. President Nixon’s groundbreaking visit to China in February means that a group of student engineers from Beijing have been granted permission to attend, and they sit together in a self-contained huddle, with wary glances at the others. There are Mexicans, several Brits (instantly recognizable as they moan about the quality of the conference-supplied tea) and a decent selection of Western European intelligentsia. There are also some who may well be from the other side of the wall. Maria has heard snatches of German, something that might be Polish, and other Eastern Bloc languages, though nobody is dumb enough to openly speak Russian. The fact of this being conceived as a showpiece for the promotion and exchange of advanced American technological prowess means that it is also a possible target for the Soviets. There are a few ordinary-looking men in plainclothes, occasionally wandering up to random delegates and making friendly conversation, who Maria suspects of being CIA.

The keynote address is dull, but Maria takes dutiful notes. There are three more days of panels and papers to go, and the morning proceeds as you would expect. Weedy men in badly fitting suits struggle with their slide projectors, and drone on about bogglingly obscure minutiae in commercial combustion engine design. Even some of the other Lockman delegates are yawning, but Maria pays intent attention, and not just because it’s her job. She’s good at this, she knows she is, and she translates some of the more obtuse mathematical formulas into plain English before she hands them over to the men, who are supposed to understand better than she does, but don’t actually. Shocking.

Lunch is held in the cafeteria, a not-terribly-appetizing selection on offer, and Maria wrinkles her nose at whatever is pretending to be beef stroganoff on her plate. As she’s trying to decide whether she wants to eat it, a voice says, “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

She looks up with a start. She thought it would be one of the Lockman engineers, but it’s not. The man is tall, lean, a few years older than her, and wearing a trim blue blazer, a tie, and slacks that actually fit. He does not have one of those disagreeable mustaches; he’s clean-shaven, and his hair is thick and dark and prone to flip over his forehead. His eyes are dark too, lively and intelligent, and his strong nose suggests southeastern Europe, as does his accent. The badge around his neck reads Jugoslovenski Aerotransport. JAT, the national airline of Yugoslavia. He might be into those very engines.

Maria is surprised – yes, there is open space at the table, but there are spots at other tables too. Presumably he should be sitting with the rest of JAT, as she should be with the rest of Lockman, but she makes a small gesture, inviting him to set his tray down. He does, swings his long legs over the bench, and examines the dismal culinary prospects without relish. “Do you think they’ll make us eat this the whole time?”

Taken aback by the fact that he has read her mind, Maria laughs. It feels like something for which she should have asked permission, though from who she has no idea. “I hope not.”

“I hope not too.” He speaks English well, mostly fluently, with the careful intonation of someone who has learned it out of books. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I am sitting down next to you, and I have not introduced myself. Asher Flynn.”

“Maria,” she says by reflex, glancing down; his name is indeed printed on his badge, though it strikes her as slightly Anglo for someone from Yugoslavia. Not that it is her business why he would have any kind of name at all. “Maria Tompkins.”

They shake hands, and he nods to her, having evidently also read her badge. “You are with Lockman? That must be exciting. They work with NASA, yes?”

Maria nods back, though she cannot help be wary of why this man has chosen her to chat up and immediately seemed interested in her employer. They choke down the gluey stroganoff for a few moments, and then she says, “Isn’t Yugoslavia a communist country?”

This is rather skip-the-formalities with someone she’s just met, and Asher Flynn looks surprised. “Yes,” he says, as if that was obvious. “Well, mostly. Tito is no friend to Moscow, though, and we are officially non-aligned. We’re the only country in Eastern Europe where you can travel abroad without an exit visa, and emigrate if you want to. Those poor bastards in the USSR, they need a passport even for domestic travel, they have to request leaves of absence from their hometown council if they plan to be gone longer than thirty days, and they can’t leave the country. I wouldn’t want to live that way.”

Maria notes the elegance of this answer, how he seems to be responding to the real question (are you a Soviet spy?) hidden within her first one, while never letting on that he is. Or maybe it’s just her imagination, and he’s gotten this a lot from suspicious Americans, inclined to mistrust a dark young man with an Eastern European accent and an interest in spaceflight technology. Maybe that’s why he goes by Asher Flynn, if the name is easier for the West to trust. Maria takes a bite of bread (stale), and says, “So that’s where you’re from?”

“Yes. SR Croatia. Zagreb.” He doesn’t seem offended by her asking. “You?”

“Texas.” She bites her tongue on asking if he knows where it is. Just because she couldn’t find Zagreb on a map doesn’t mean he can’t. “Houston.”

“Houston,” Asher says, nodding. “Yes, yes. Where they launched Apollo 11. Were you there for that?”

Maria looks at her plate. She can feel the stroganoff revolting, threatening to come back up and taste even more vile this time, and swallows heavily. Asher cannot know that he has stepped directly onto her most vulnerable sore spot, her most enduring wound, and she tries to concentrate until the urge to scream and run backs down. He can sense at once, however, that something is wrong. “I didn’t – ” he says. “Sorry, is that – ?”

“I – no. I wasn’t there.” The words are dredged out of her like leaden anchors. “There was – there was a family emergency. My son, he – ” God, no, no, no, she is not telling this man she just met, she is not doing it, she is not throwing it onto him, and yet she is. “My son actually – my son died that day. It was – a bee sting, a bad allergic reaction. He – he didn’t make it.”

Asher blinks like she’s hit him. There are any number of things he could say or do in response, not least some screaming and running of his own. Then he reaches out and pats her hand; his own is large enough to cover it, if he held on, but he doesn’t. “Please forgive me,” he says quietly. “I did not know, of course, but I am very sorry. You may tell me to go away and eat my lunch somewhere else, if you would like.”

“I – no.” Maria is determined not to crumble, not to sit here and cry in the middle of the cafeteria, and she might do that if he left. “No, it’s – ”

He’s still looking at her, pensive, considering. Then he says, “What if we throw away this mess, and go get a sandwich? I heard New York has good sandwiches. The next panel I want to attend is not until two o’clock.”

Maria tenses. “Are you just – because you feel sorry for me?”

“I do feel sorry for you,” Asher says, simply and unpretentiously. “But I was going to ask if you wanted a sandwich before you said that, so it’s not why. There is a shop on the corner. It would take only a few minutes. If you would like.”

Maria supposes there is something to be said for the fact that he took the dead-son bombshell and his next move to is to seek out more of her company, to see her cracks and her ruins and somehow find them -- well, not beautiful, but not dead, unbearable, disqualifying. She can give into it, she’s never going to see him again, and the stroganoff is disgusting. She pauses, then says, “Okay.”

Asher smiles – it’s unforced, natural, dazzling, and her insides do something strange – and gets to his feet, once more nearly tripping over the bench that has not been made with the interests of a six-foot-three man in mind. He strides at her side as they leave the cafeteria, as Maria recalls the warning against walking alone in New York and then decides that after all, she isn’t alone. The sandwich shop is not far from Shea Stadium, bedecked with graffiti, and the 7 train rattles overhead on its elevated tracks, felonies presumably being committed aboard. It looks seedy, but Asher ducks inside with easy confidence, strides up to the counter, and orders them both a New York sub special, opening his wallet and carefully counting out cash to pay before Maria can offer to go Dutch. It’s hot and greasy and possibly the most delicious thing she has eaten in her life.

She looks at her watch when it’s done, decides to get back so she can serve as Lockman stenographer for the afternoon sessions, and Asher escorts her back. As he regards the Unisphere with a slightly ironic expression, Maria asks, “Is this your first time in America?”

It’s rich of her to be asking, since she’s a newcomer to the city herself, but she finds herself wondering. He nods. “Yes,” he says. “I can’t say that New York’s impressed me very much.”

“Is it different back home?” Maria has no idea what Yugoslavia is actually like, other than presumably Soviet Union-lite. The American imagination does not encompass much social diversity (or quality of life) over there in the Red parts of Europe, those oppressed and faceless millions bereft of the freedom and luxury of the West. “Better?”

Asher shrugs. “Every country has its problems. It was devastated by the war, the Nazis occupied it and turned it into a puppet state – it used to be the Kingdom of Yugoslavia, but the last heir to the throne fled in 1941, and the monarchy was abolished. That’s the year I was born, so I don’t remember, but Tito rallied the Partisans and the anti-fascist forces, and they fought to drive the Nazis out. Then he became president of the republic, and he separated from Stalin fairly quickly. But my mother was born in a farmhouse with dirt floors, in a poor and rural country that was still essentially in the nineteenth century, and now she lives in a nice rent-free apartment in Zagreb. She can go on vacations to the seaside and to cafés with her friends, her health insurance is paid for, she has a television set and a washing machine and likes to read Žena u borbi and watch soap operas. I can even take her to Paris, Milan. I don’t think that is so bad, no?”

Maria glances sidelong at him. The way he speaks about his mother makes it sounds like he loves her, and is proud that she has a comfortable life. Maria wonders what Asher is leaving out, what sacrifices are made for this, but then, is it any less than the sacrifices made in America, this increasingly strange land that they all accept as the norm? She looks at this dirty city, the trash blowing in the gutters. Remembers the pictures of burning TV sets and prostitutes and homeless people in suits sleeping in the street. She says, “No, it sounds nice.”

They reach the fairgrounds, and go inside. Asher gives her half a bow, old-fashioned, oddly charming, before he returns to the JAT contingent, and Maria finds herself inexplicably reluctant to see him go. In her defense, he was polite and well-dressed, gracious about that inadvertent emotional minefield, interesting to talk to, not from around here, and saved her from having to eat the cafeteria food. Out of nowhere, she wonders if he’ll take her to lunch again tomorrow, if she could induce him to do so, but that seems manipulative. She could even ask, but that – no. She doesn’t want to give the wrong impression. Not when, as she already has to remind herself, they are never going to see each other again.

[jojoreadwhat]

i'm the best book you'll never read / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Lucy's POV.

It's been a weekend and three days since Matty tried kissing me under the stars. His breath still a lingering scent that wouldn't subside, so close to my pale skin. Laced with the red wine shared between us and the minty menthol he had threw before hovering over me. Sending this racing chill through my body that was fitting with the warmth of the wine I had consumed. His dark chocolate eyes like daggers against my crystal blues, tracing my face like transparent paper. A scene that wouldn't leave, a scene I was wish I played into instead of pause.

The words replaying in the savory tone of Matty's thick accent, 'You're not one of them' his calloused index finger running over my forehead. Moving the little strand dancing across it. 'Not in the slightest.'  Watching as his rare lips, so defined and gloss-like. Curl into this unconventional smile that was so.. inviting.

I sighed to myself, opening my eyes to the window with the picture perfect scene. Lightly shaking my head to possible mistake I had made. His strange absence painting the bigger picture that all was not the truth, that I was different in that moment. Only because I wanted more grammar rather than the tongue tied language he wanted to perform.

It was best to keep it a subtle memory, keeping me at bay for all the wonders I was expected to see in London. Matty was just an introduction to it all, starting the carpet that would lead me to all I was hoping to find here. Experience.

I looked down at my leather bound in my lap, writing the finishings of my entry before reading the watch on my wrist. Today is my first day working in the university's library. I buckled the strap of my journal, throwing it into my bag before grabbing another coffee for the walk.

++

I walked to the west wing of campus to the building separated from the rest of it, I swear the library for this campus was bigger than two mansions. Three floors full of magic aligned each shelf. A different world for a different day of the week. The smell ventilating so much that I could catch it into a jar like you would sand on a foreign beach.  

I clocked in, placing my belongings into a locker in the back. I bent down to fix the buckle of my mary jane's, before I stood in front of a community mirror. Straightening out my navy and green plaid skirt, readjusting the black tulip hem shirt following the placing of my lanyard over my neck.

Taking a breath, before going to look for my supervisor, Matilda. Blonde long haired woman approaching her fifties. Blue eyes similar to mine and this angelic face that you only seen in those old Victorian paintings in museums. With a very laid back style, a different patterned skirt everytime I seen her during study hall. Loaded with different amounts of jewelry, and smelling of fresh eucalyptus.

She was marking books with little color tags on their linings. Separating them from different genres. I lightly tapped her because you know the rules of libraries, six inch voices. She spun around with a warming smile, kind of like the one my mom gave.

"Ah, Ms. Collins. It's your first day!" She exclaimed ever so quietly.  Placing her arm around my shoulders blades as she directed me. Her light embrace warming me heavily, "I've been looking forward to working with you."

--------------------------------------------

Matty's POV.

I stood at the counter of Rocket Records as each strike of the clock moved and people browsed through the plastic wraps of wonders. I was in the mist of heading to uni when James called in a frantic. Ryan, the morning shift had an emergency to attend too. Taking me out of the terrible excuse of books and lectures. So I could stare at the girl a few rows in front.

Friday kept replaying in my head.

The way she danced to the strums of my guitar. The way her face squinted after her first sip of her drink. Her refreshed skin glistening against the neons as she came out of the ladies room. Her little hand in mine as I led her on the outskirts, buying cheap wine to watch the street lights and stars make align in her eyes. That laugh cascade over the sounds of the stale city, making it ever so bright in the night. The way she was so small laying slightly beneath me, how every bit of the details etched on her face. Were what she considered flawed, but to I so beautiful blended. Lastly how guarded her valuable heart was as her small hands barely amounted to the strong opinions running from her mouth.

I smirked in thought at the way her eyes widened when I didn't move my stance. Which them open from fear she was trying to have subside, to the curiosity of why I was still lying there. Showing that what I remarked back was the most truth I had ever spoken. She was not the red head in the bar when she seen her hands resting around me. Not the blonde that left my flat the day I found Lucy in my Creative Writings class. She was Lucy. Lucy Collins, a girl with lines to read and understand.

The little bell over the door had rang, my two friends and bandmates Ross and Adam peering from the sunny autumn breeze. Holding bags of clanking bottles and snacks as they rested them on the counter in front of me.

"It's Wednesday." I reminded. Very aware of the events taking place tonight.

Ross looked at me taken back on my greetings. "It's two days till Friday. We are just preparing." He replied, Adam chiming in beside him with a chuckle. I sighed to myself, taking the tagging gun and running along a pile.

"Is it a big one?" I asked, my mind flooding with papers due and studying to do. As much as I would be usually stoked for the midnight ride, I wasn't feeling it much.

Adam shook his head, "Preparing remember?" He remarked, resting his arms on the counter. "It's just enough for good food, good tunes and some nice company." He added, picking up a record.

"Plus, we think you should invite Lucy." Ross added once more, "She's quite the catch."

For my usual laid back, very unreadable expressions. I could feel the curl in my cheeks with only the truth filling the room. She's a definitely a catch. A catch so difficult to grasp.

----------------------------------------------

Lucy's POV.

Matilda had directed to me the front desk, giving me light duty today because we were pretty swamped. It was the middle of the next week now and there was essays and exams due. I felt all the same pain, I had a double whammy of exams on Friday that I was dreading to bits.

I worked with the computer, helping my fellow classmates if we had books available or if they had been checked out. It was definitely a sucky job, I hated the feeling knowing you didn't get to a book in time. It was like getting to class late... And naked to top it off.

Eventually it had died down. Matilda was now at the desk with me, eating peanuts and checking library check out slips.

"So Ms. Collins. What are you studying?" She asked, during my interview it was cut short so she didn't get to ask about why this American was in London.

I helped check slips with her, "Literature. I write." I explained, I didn't really have a direction when it came to what type of writing I was studying. I took up creative writing and women studies as extras cause many books I read were along those lines. But honestly, I just wanted anything to everything about writing at my fingertips. Writing never had directions, just flows.

She seemed pleased, "My daughter is a writer too." She went on, looking just like her I bet, pretty long blonde hair, taking the world by storm.  Writing about experiences she had and was experiencing things as we spoke. Wearing a coat of many colors without any shame. That would be a level I'd like to reach after this.

"I bet you have great stories." She continued, I smiled at her positivity. She had no idea that I only had a first kiss in Junior high and talked to a homeless guy once or twice. All my experiences being so blah and that standing in this library. In a place so new, was more exciting than all of them combined. "I bet he knows that too." She added once more, my face immediately flustering into confusion.

She smiled at my questioning look of her mentions. "He was here a few days ago when you had picked up My Life On The Road." She explaining more specifically, "His eyes were all over you more than the book in his hands."

She went on to describing him but I didn't need more, instead I was beginning to feel more guilt than I already had. Totally judging him by his past when mine was just a sheet of lined paper. Jotted with scarce notes that never even made it to the market, just a list of things I never did.

++

Matilda set the alarm before locking the doors and saying goodnight. Day one of work had been surprisingly smooth than I expected. Leaving me now with enough energy of diving into textbooks and paperbacks of my own. Excited for the fresh bottle of pumpkin spice creamer in the fridge, the Coldplay record that was delivered to the house via email and the half eaten tub of apple crisp flavored ice cream. Waiting to be devoured in the freezer hidden behind the stack of frozen peas.

With the unlikely exciting things to be thrilled about for some when getting home. I retraced the familiar route to the tube that would lead me to my happy events of the night. The mixed aromas of firewood and the brisk winds tickling my nose, I went to slip in my headphones. Finishing from the middle of Moose Blood when the voice I kept hearing replay in my mind. Was now colliding against the autumn winds.

"Hey Blue." His voice sliding down my spine like ice.

Leaning against his car that was dark like the sky above. His hands in the green army jacket over the white and blue of his flannel, edging out all the tone of his build. His black infamous holed jeans meeting at the bottom where his vans were crossed. Casually playing the aesthetic he walked.

I walked towards to him, stopping two feet but only itching to get closer.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked with his absence from Creative Writing remained on my mind.

He smirked, probably mentally preparing for all the questions to roll off my tongue like a ball on the ground. "Abby told me that you were working." He replied, surprised that he went looking for me in the first place.

"Were you hoping I fetched your homework?" I remarked. My mind immediately regretting the bantering remark.

He shook his head, "No." looking down at his shoes. "I was hoping to catch you." Before his brown eyes met mine again, even with the indigo that surrounded us. They were so bright, golds so prominent like the moon dancing with stars.

"The boys and I are having a party tonight." He said, "I was hoping you could stop by."

My mind playing tricks splitting like a Gemini on a off day, one part wanting to cover my face with apple crisp ice cream. The other was Matty opening the door to the passenger seat of his car.

++

The party was smaller than I had thought about on the drive here. Just a handful of friends, good brews and fresh tunes.

Matty grabbed me a drink before grabbing my hand and pulling me to the dance floor. I was never much for parties or the way my hips move off beat. But for Matty's hands to lay on my waist as his wine breath danced along the skin of my neck. I was fabricating more ways in my head for this feeling to be more frequent. The past thoughts of earlier as I was dealing with guilt for Friday. Were beginning to feel sighs of reliefs with all the words Matty babbled and the laughs he caused to ripple against the music.

More people started coming in from the yard, changing the vibe and it was getting more difficult to listen to Matty talk. Finding the words that would fall so easily were being replaced by nods and smiles. Trying to hint a bit that it was beginning to be crowded and he was all I wanted to listen too.

"Let's go to my room." He slightly slurred without waiting for a response, his hand moving from the fabric resting on my waist. Now running along into my hand as he moved through the crowd till we reached stairs.

He turned the knob of a door covered in nonsense stickers of bands till we entered his room. The room loosely matched his door, posters in multiple different sizes overlapping, collages, and a tapestry of different faces he admired plaster on the walls. I looked around, Matty turning on a lamp on his nightstand before sitting on his bed. Silently watching me as I silently observed the things that hadn't fallen from his mouth.

I chuckled to myself as I counted a few more pictures of Prince than Michael Jackson. The first week of his friendliness and his one man protest of who was better coming to mind. "You really think Michael Jackson is better?" I recanted, pointing out some of the snippets of articles I had found. "Okay, maybe. But Prince definitely has killer style." He replied as I shook my head in amusement. Trailing my eyes to the colorful bookshelf with bold names seeping. Picking up Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman. A book I had all intentions of picking up in the bookstore back home, but it never made it to the register.

The sound of a lighter clicking as Matty lit his menthol was followed with his towering figuration standing from his gray duvet covered bed.

"Ever read it?" He asked, the cigarette moving with every curl of his lip. Wrapping his fingers around it as he pulled it away to exhale. I shook my head, a look of surprise gracing his face. The English major failing to read a book that fallen between cracks and rolled up lists.

I watched as he brought the cigarette back to his perfectly formed lips, inhaling once before exhaling into a question. "Do you remember your first English class?" He began, middle school replaying in my mind, Ms. Lindsay's pretty floral dress, the posters aligning the walls with every author you could imagine. She was a big part of my decision of devoting my life into words, journals and novels.

Matty's voice breaking me from my memory, "Remember when they taught you to never judge a book by it's cover?" He added, I looked back down at the book that was falling to pieces, the cover was beginning to wear and the colors becoming stale. "Even if it's a over read story or just a plot you'll never fully understand?" Inhaling once again, "Or just a author with too much exposure?" I ran my fingers over it's folded pages, the old and fresh notes made in the indents.

All his questions beginning to connect like the lining of the book. Matty was a book, folded at it's edges, full of knowledge and secrets some old from past lives, some new. Over read like the one in my hands.

I looked up at Matty who was beginning to raise his hand to take another swing of his cigarette. I had other ideas when I gently grabbed his wrist before I reached up and met his lips with mine. He was taken back my sudden action, making two of us. I was nervous about what I had begun but it all subsided when his hands wrapped around my waist. Pulling me closer, tasting what I was about to guard myself from, like he was a banned book that I was going to go through all lengths to read.